The Forgotten Anniversary
We have been seeing each other for about a year and played many bondage games. Today is our anniversary and I forget…I am out with someone else and you know it. I arrive at your house unsuspecting of what you are going to do to me to keep me from doing this again. I knock and you greet me seeing I am wearing a short skirt…probably no panties at all…showing off my body. My thick red curls are well combed and run down my shoulders freely.
“What day is this?” you ask when we enter the bedroom.
I say, “Monday. Why?”
You instantly grab me and I start with a surprise. I feel you put something over my mouth…it is a cloth with a liquid that quickly knocks me out. I wake up tied to the bed stomach down…spread-eagled and gagged. I hear many people. You are discussing what to do to me. I finally hear someone say, “Strip her!” I shake my head trying to get someone to get the gag out. I feel hands remove my skirt and tear my shirt off. I begin to turn red as my panties are cut off by something. I hear you behind me telling me that it is time to fix those good looks which get me into trouble. “She is all yours,” you say to the crowd. “Do anything you wish. I don’t want her pretty anymore.”
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I hear a woman say, “Hmmm. What shall we do first? You heard the man…no more prettiness.” I hear a man say, “Let’s just scar her face and pussy up.” Many people yell ideas. I hear “tattoo her face”, “cut off her nipples and nose”, “slice her lips off”, “shave her completely”. I hear the woman say, “That sounds like a good idea…hmmm…men love red bushes like this one.” I feel her touch my curly red pubic hair and freeze. She asks someone to shave my pussy as she thinks of more things. I feel shaving cream being rubbed in and people snickering as my pubes are swiped away slowly by a razor.
“This hair is awfully pretty, huh fellas?” she says as she begins to feel my head hair. I feel terror run through me at the thought of what she might want to do…then she says my worst fear. “Let’s do something about this hair.” I begin to cry…my hair is the proudest part of my body. I hear many ideas run through the crowd… mohawk…dye it green…shave one side…crewcut…reverse mohawk…butch job…then I hear the woman say that it would be best if I were made bald…She says she wants to do this one personally. I struggle as I hear scissors snapping near me, preparing to cut my curls off.
“Ohhh…this one doesn’t want to lose her hair…I think I will enjoy this,” she says. I feel my hair being grabbed and she begins the shearing process. I cry as she begins crunching. I watch and feel hair falling around me…MY HAIR…MY LOVELY RED LOCKS! I could hear everyone laugh…she just kept cutting. I saw her hand show me severed locks. I could feel air on my head as I heard a whirring noise…oh god…no, I thought…as I felt an electric razor run from the back of my neck to my forehead leaving horrible stubble which she felt. Everyone laughed. She purred, “Not so pretty without your mane huh? Ha ha”
She continued shearing until I could feel air surrounding my stubbled head. All my locks were piled on the bed and then I heard her say, “Come.”