Hole in the Wall

Hole in the Wall

The Hole in the Wall – Dreadlocks

Darcy wasn’t sure why she had to look through the little hole in the wall. She really had no reason to believe that anything was going on, but she looked anyway and what she saw ate away at her. Darcy pulled back the picture above her bed and slipped her hair back over her shoulders and then raised her eye up to the hole. There, sitting tied to a chair, was a pretty young girl, not more than 18 years old. She was naked except for the lace sockettes and some spiked heels. The girl looked frightened as she looked over her shoulder at the figure approaching her from the corner of the room. A man dressed in jeans and a dirty white T-shirt walked over to her and slapped her face. The girl winced from the pain and then looked straight ahead as if to ignore the man. Just then something very unexpected happened. Darcy was getting excited by what she saw, and in her moving about, fell against the wall with her shoulder. This caused both the man and the girl to look over at the adjoining wall. Darcy quickly retreated and sat nervously on the bed as if she had been caught and was trying to hide. But curiosity got the better of her and she raised up to look through the hole once more. What she saw astounded her. The man was cutting off the girl’s hair with scissors and not neatly. He was quickly hacking away at the golden locks that were slowly falling around her bound feet. Darcy could see that her face was wet and that she was crying, but the man was undaunted and continued to cut until all the hair on the young girl’s head was nothing more than an ashen stubble.

Darcy was very excited by what she was witnessing. Even though she knew that this poor girl was enduring a very humiliating experience, somewhere deep inside her, the girl must have been enjoying it too, because as the man ran his rough hands over her shorn scalp, the young girl moaned audibly. Darcy could see the man fumbling with something in the corner of the room and then as he came back into view, he held electric clippers, which he unceremoniously flicked on and began to run them over the girl’s head. Front to back, back to front and side to side, over and over until finally they fell silent. The man again ran his hands over the nearly bald head. There were some words exchanged and then the man disappeared into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with a small open can. Darcy could see him painting a light blue liquid onto the girl’s head, until her entire head was covered. The man then knelt between the girl’s legs and bent his head to please her. She was very loud as he was obviously quite skilled and she had several orgasms that Darcy could see. She was herself very close to orgasm as she had lowered her panties and was tickling herself. After nearly twenty minutes the man again stood up and seemed to be working on the edge of the blue cream with his fingers. The blue liquid must have solidified, for he peeled it off in one large piece, taking with it any trace of shadow the young girl had on her head. She was totally, shiny bald. Darcy fell back onto her bed and was furiously masturbating until she had three shattering orgasms. As she caught her breath she went back to the hole only to find that the girl was gone, the chair sat empty with the ropes that had once bound the girl, draped over the back.

The next morning as Darcy got ready for work she thought back on the things that she had seen the previous evening. The thoughts possessed her all day long at work and she found herself aroused again. Several times as she walked by a mirror she found herself stopping and adjusting her waist-length hair, its shimmering glow in the fluorescent lamps was very sexy.

That evening she checked out of the hotel and moved into her apartment, which she had been so patiently waiting for. As she gathered her things she casually walked over to the picture that concealed the hole and removed it. Slowly, she raised her eye to the hole. There was the chair, in the same condition as it had been the night before, the ropes dangling over the back. Disappointed, Darcy replaced the picture and locked the room. The desk was empty when she walked past and she thought that she might just drop the key in the mail instead of waiting for the manager.

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As she settled into her new apartment, she slowly forgot about the events that she had witnessed that evening. About two weeks had passed and Darcy was looking through her purse for a stick of gum when she came across the key. She had forgotten to mail it.

She thought about dropping it into a mailbox but then decided to take it back herself, the hotel only being a short distance away. She entered the lobby and once again found the desk deserted. Darcy wandered towards the hallway leading to her old room. She casually wandered down the hall and stopped outside of her room. She could hear the voice of a young woman inside talking on the telephone. She turned to leave but was surprised to see that the door to the room next door was ajar. Darcy was a little scared as she peered in through the crack. There was the chair! It was in the same place. She listened carefully but heard nothing from the room and she cautiously pushed the door open a little farther. There appeared to be nobody there. Darcy quietly walked into the room and stopped just behind the chair. She looked down and could see that there were still wisps of blonde hair matted into the carpet. She could feel the juices inside her start to flow as she slowly took a seat in the chair. There was a click behind her. Every ounce of her body shook as she went to rise but something was stopping her, perhaps the hands that now rested firmly on her shoulders. Suddenly, she was calm, resolved. Nothing was said by the man who now was in front of her. Darcy stood and disrobed completely without ever being asked to and then sat back down it the chair expectantly. The man had no real expression on his face and was quite plain looking. There was a coffee stain on the green T-shirt he wore and his jeans had holes in the knees. This didn’t matter. Darcy felt her hands being pulled behind her and tied. Her ankles also were tied, tightly, securely, making her pussy drool uncontrollably. She knew what was next.

She felt a tug on the hair in back of her head and then heard the sickening scruunch as the scissors sliced through her luxurious mane of jet black hair. But it wasn’t sickening at all. There were tears though, not of grief but joy. The man was hacking her hair as he did the young girl’s, snip after merciless snip until she could feel his breath on her neck and the breeze from the window that was slightly opened on the top of her head.

Darcy looked down and all around her on the floor was her beautiful hair. He was gone, but she knew where he was. She heard the clippers spring to life and felt the first cold contact of the metal on the skin of her nape and then a flurry of tiny black fuzz was everywhere. The motion of the clippers on her head was so erotic that she was completely overwhelmed by it and was momentarily dizzy, it was then that the clippers stopped.

“I have taken your hair from you tonight, but you must choose now.” The man spoke the words that she had strained to hear through the hole. Darcy looked up at the man and smiled.

“Thank you, I like it very much.” The man ran his hand over her stubbled head and nodded as he disappeared behind her. Darcy looked over at the wall that joined the two rooms and was surprised to see light shining through a small hole, the hole. She felt the blue liquid being painted onto her scalp, it had a sharp chemical odor. The man, as he had before, knelt between Darcy’s legs and bent his head down to lick her. She had recently shaven herself there as a consolation to what she had once witnessed there. It was the only time she saw him smile. Darcy felt the blue liquid tingling on her head as the man brought her to an earth-shattering orgasm, not once, but three times. Darcy glanced over at the hole in the wall and saw it, a glint of moisture reflected back at her and she knew they were being watched. She felt the man start to peel back the now hardened liquid and felt the rush of cool air hit her tingling scalp. At the same moment she heard a muffled moan from the other side of the wall and the light was once again shining through the hole.

Three months later, after Darcy realized that her hair would never grow back she returned to the hotel. She reached into her purse and took out the key. Once again the desk was empty. Looking around, Darcy placed the key on the counter.

“Thank you.” There was a man standing in the doorway to the office, silhouetted by the light shining from behind him, the man. “I believe this is yours.” He handed her a box wrapped with a bow. Darcy exchanged smiles with the man and turned to leave, only slightly embarrassed by the encounter. When she arrived home she slipped the bow off the box and opened it. A tear formed in the corner of her eye as she removed the contents. The most exquisitely crafted wig that she had ever seen was draped over her hand, its jet black hair shone in the light. Darcy only wore it on special occasions, when she needed to look her very best, for people had come to know her without her hair. And so, when the time came that she no longer needed the wig, she returned it to the man at the hotel, who graciously thanked her. In return he gave her a small bottle. Upon returning home she opened the bottle to find a small amount of the blue liquid, the smell of which brought back such memories as to make her wet almost immediately. She smiled knowingly for she knew what it was for.


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