Honey, Can We Talk?


Honey, Can We Talk? – DoctorB

Our relationship had soured over the past several months. We weren’t talking all that much anymore and we had a few nasty arguments over fairly minor stuff. I knew things didn’t look good. I discussed counseling with Bob but he wasn’t keen on it. After some prodding he agreed. I don’t know if was to shut me up or because he cared for me. Either way I just needed to do something before our relationship fell apart.

After several sessions with the therapist things between us improved a little, a positive sign to me. The problem was that Bob was still stand-offish and not as open as the counselor wanted him to be.

One evening we discussed this in a session. Bob wouldn’t say much. Finally the counselor just told him to stop being an idiot and say what he was feeling. To not do so was hurting things more than helping. Bob was somewhat taken aback by this rather direct rebuke from a stranger.

He finally said, “The sex is getting stale.” I had to agree that it was.

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“What would you suggest?” the counselor asked.

“I’m embarrassed to discuss it,” Bob said. I suggested he write it down. Bob shrugged his shoulders. “Just not here,” was all he would say.

When we got home I asked Bob what he wanted of me. “I am too embarrassed,” he said again. I knew that to get the ball rolling I would have to start by writing something down myself. So, I wrote Bob a letter describing a fantasy of mine. I had had long hair all my life and I wanted to go short. A bob or something like it. I wanted him to cut my hair and I wanted him do it as part of a light bondage scenario.

I sealed the envelope and handed it to him. “Open this at work tomorrow and tell me what you think when you get home.”

The next afternoon Bob handed me back the envelope which appeared to still be sealed. I was so pissed! Bob sensed my reaction and said, “I read it and changed it. Read it. I’m going out for exactly two hours.” He turned and left. What the hell? Was he angry? Was he coming back?

I took the sealed envelope and went to the living room and opened it. Oh – my – God! Was he serious? At the bottom of the letter was a website listing with instructions to look at it before making my final decision. I fired up the computer and typed www.haircut.net and followed his instructions to look at a certain page about a young model named Alysia. I wandered around the website some. I was transfixed. I made up my mind.

When Bob came back, exactly two hours later, he called for me. “Up here,” I yelled from our bedroom. When he entered he found his answer. I was seated in a chair, in the middle of the room on an old drop cloth. Bob smiled, went back into the hall and returned with an old box I recognized from the basement. He opened it and placed it in my lap. In it was some very old hair cutting equipment. An old and very clean set of clippers, sets of scissors and a straight razor. He then produced some large canvas straps we use to tie stuff into the back of our truck.

“How long have you had this stuff?” I asked.

“I did not give you permission to speak,” he said gruffly. The rules of the game had just been established. I went along with the game since it was what I had wanted anyway.

“I apologize sir.”

Straps were placed around each leg at the ankle and behind the knee. One was placed around my thighs binding me to the seat bottom. My arms were pulled over the seat back and bound together and then to the seat back. This forced my head forward and down some. Lastly, three straps bound my torso to the seat back in an X-shaped pattern separating my breasts. I was rather uncomfortable, completely helpless and somewhat nervous. I was also very aroused.

Bob placed the contents of the box on a table where I could see. First a large and imposing set of shears. Next the large black clippers. Then the straight razor and a piece of antique-looking leather. Last a can of my shave gel.

Bob held a piece of paper in front of my face. It read, “Your safe word is MERCY. Say it and everything stops. Nod if you understand.” I nodded.

Bob began to brush my hair. He had done it many times before. I recalled he rather enjoyed it, that and massaging my scalp. Now I knew why. The scissors disappeared from view. My hair was gathered in a ponytail way up on my head. Bob pulled and twisted the tail very tight, pulling my head against the restraints. I winced. Schnick! The pressure was gone. The ponytail was dropped in my lap.

I was getting wet. I was feeling bold and oddly empowered. I had a word I could use to stop this in a moment. Anything that happened from here on was my decision. Even though I was helpless I held all the power. I had never engaged in a bondage game before. I felt very alive. Energized would be a better description.

The clippers disappeared from my view. I was beginning to breathe heavy. POP-hummmmm. I felt them at the back of my head near my skin but not touching it. An opportunity to use the word. I remained silent.

The clippers touched my skin and the feeling was electric. They were also very loud. Up the back of my head and over the top and down the front. A mound of hair fell into my lap where I could see it pushed like a snow plow pushes snow. It was a lot of hair. I wanted more of it.

He began at the back once more slightly to one side. Up they came over the top and down the front again. The pile landed a little to one side. I was squirming a little trying to trigger the orgasm that was building within me. “Don’t move.” I stopped squirming.

Again at the back of the head. Five more times and the pile in my lap was now very large. Over the left ear and then the right. Finally the clippers moved all over my head very quickly.

Silence. I marveled at how quiet the room got when the clippers kicked off.

The shaving cream disappeared from view. Ssssssss was the sound as Bob filled his hand with the gel, then a pause. Another opportunity to use the word. I remained silent.

The gel was spread over the top my head working outward. The messaging action felt wonderful and I again resisted the urge to squirm. The razor disappeared from view followed by an odd sound like sliding a glass over a counter top. Silence again. My last opportunity to use the word. I again remained silent.

I felt the razor touch over my left ear followed by a combination of a scraping noise and feeling. Bob worked slowly. Carefully in small patches just a few inches in size cleaning the razor on a small towel he had placed over one of my thighs. The white gel was filled with tiny red hairs. My hairs.

Bob continued for a long time. Left ear, right ear, temples, top, back and finally front. Last came a dampened hot towel. Oh the feeling of that! Like finding nerves you never knew you had. I luxuriated in the warmth. A few minutes later Bob removed the towel. I heard the sssssssss noise again. What? Oh, just like when I shave my bikini line. It takes a couple times to get it smooth.

Bob worked the razor in longer, more flowing strokes. This time front to back. The scraping sound was gone, replaced by more of a fingernails on smooth skin tone. The sound of smoothness. Twenty or so strokes later and the hot towel returned. Oh how I loved that feeling.

Bob wiped my scalp clean. I still had my head down a little and could see Bob’s legs as he moved around near me. He had the largest bulge in his pants I had ever seen with a small wet spot at the top. Had he come while doing this to me? I hoped not because my panties were just dripping wet.

“Close your eyes.” I did. Bob removed the straps from my torso and then my arms. He messaged my shoulders removing the knots that had formed from being restrained for so long. The rest of the straps were removed. He then helped me to stand and move a couple of steps and then turned me to the right. “Open your eyes.”

Reflected in the full length mirror before me was a stunning vision. A woman in a sun dress (with a very large wet area), a long slender neck, full eyes and a white shadow where her hair used to be. I cried a little at the sight of myself. I looked so different. I turned to Bob and buried my face in his shoulder and gave him a huge hug. He put his arms around me, his head slightly above mind. His warm breath on my bald head felt loving and secure. “I’m glad we had this chance to talk and clear up a few things,” he said.

I was very glad as well. “Let’s go to bed and talk again tomorrow,” I said. Our relationship has been on a very solid footing ever since. What a wonderful thing when two people can talk things out whenever the need arises.


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