On Whim and Prayer
On Whim and Prayer – DoctorB
“Hey, hun is there something you want to tell me about these?” she asked, not so much as holding but brandishing the ‘men’s’ magazines at him.
He looked at her with a combination of embarrassment, surprise, dread and anger.
She had discovered his stash of porno magazines a couple of weeks ago and decided to bring it up now. She wasn’t one to jump to conclusions about fidelity. She knew from experience that most men had fantasies that they would not dare discuss with anyone let alone their wives. In this case she had been rather shocked, at first that is, about the content of the magazines. They all featured women in various shaved or shorn hairstyles. She had checked their ISP web account and found that he had frequented similar fetish web sites.
She wasn’t trying to provoke an argument or anything like that. She only wanted him to discuss it with her and be open with her. To her it was openness issue, not a trust issue. She saw it as way to become more intimate with her husband.
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He of course saw it as her infringing on his ‘space’ and as lack of trust on her part in; (a) finding the magazines and, (b) admitting she had found them. He was immediately on the defensive and quite angry.
She tried very hard to calm him down and even went so far as to apologize to him about her snooping. This shut him up for a moment.
“Listen dear, I am not angry or hurt or even upset about these magazines. I only want you to tell me about why this fascinates you so much. I guess what I really want is for you to share this fantasy with me,” she said in a calm tone.
“You mean you want me shave you bald?” he replied, a huge lump rising in his throat and enormous look of surprise on his face.
She held her hand up in front of him. “Woah – hold on minute there buster, that is not what I’m saying. I am just asking you to share your intimate thoughts with me, nothing more. I want you share with me more.”
He suddenly looked like a scolded child. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Look, don’t be sorry. It’s just that when you have these kinds of urges I’d like to know. OK?”
He looked at her and sounding very small said, “Yeah, OK.”
She knew what that tone meant. It meant ‘no’ but it also had deeper meaning to it. It was a conditional no. What he really meant was he didn’t think he could discuss it. It was a ‘you say you want to know, but you really don’t want to know.’
She wasn’t sure how she was going to get him to open up anymore than he just had, which is to say not at all. She was going to have to find a way to get him to open up for real so she needed a reason for him to want to be that intimate with her. She left him alone and began to consider the problem. His face had lit up like a little kid at Christmas when he had thought she wanted him to shave her. No, the look was feral and intense. It had lasted a brief moment and it made her wonder about the power of his fantasy. The look said that he didn’t just want her but that he wanted to take her and ravish her.
She decided that she would let it go for a while. She had learned that when he went into his ‘cave’ never to follow him. He would come out when he was ready.
Seven months later they were boarding the sailing brig S.V. Extasy. The ship was one of the smaller vessels of the Windjammer Cruise Lines fleet with a crew of 35 and just 62 passengers. They had worked very hard for this dream vacation, for the next ten days, they would island hop through Tahiti, and Micronesia waited on hand and foot by the attentive crew.
After a welcome from the ship’s purser they went to their spacious cabin and got down to the serious business of relaxing. Frank had already changed and was flipping through the ship’s daily schedules when Jill called to him from the bathroom, er, head. “Hey Frank, can you come help me with my necklace, I got it stuck in my hair again.”
“Sure babe,” he called as he walked to the head. The clasp was really tangled in her hair this time. “Bloody hell woman, you really got it stuck this time!” he said in a humorous rebuke.
“Oh just shut up and cut it out if you have to, it’s really tugging hard,” she whined.
“OK, OK, calm down,” he soothed. A quick snip from his small mustache scissors and she was free. As he sat down to try to open the clasp he off-handedly remarked, “You know hun, this the third time this week you did this, either stop wearing this damn thing or lose the hair, would you?”
That was what she had hoped he would say. She spun on her heel and asked rather pointedly, “What did you just say?”
He had been edgy lately so rather than back off he stood his ground. “I said – either lose the necklace or the hair,” he said with a firm voice staring at her.
With that she turned, opened her toilet kit and through him a small set of hair clippers, “OK, let’s lose the hair.”
He was stunned. His mouth gaped, closed and gaped again like a big guppy fish. “Come again?” he managed.
“You heard me, and I intend to come – again and again. What, are you thick? Now get off your ass so I can sit down and turn those clippers on and use them!” she said in a loud voice.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Remember those magazines I found? Well, I figured what the hell? We don’t know anybody here and it’s only hair. Besides, all those women in your magazines keep saying I should try it at least once. So, what the hell. Now, get cracking.”
At last, he stood and she sat on the edge of the toilet. He plugged in the clippers and looked at her carefully. “Seriously, you’re really sure about this?”
She kissed him lightly on the cheek and looked him in the eye, “Yes, I am. I’m doing this as much for me as for you,” she said in soft and loving voice. “Now get started before I chicken out.”
He turned the clippers on. The pop caught her attention. He moved closer to her, very close, reached out and held her chin in his hand and looked her deeply in each eye. “I love you,” he whispered, kissed her gently on the end of her nose and pushed then clippers slowly through her hair right down the middle.
Hair fell to both sides and down her back in a shimmering cascade. “Wow, this feels good,” she purred with her eyes closed. He pulled the clippers back to her forehead and started on another path just to the left of the last one overlapping it slightly. This time the hair was pushed more toward the rear and over the back of her head falling down her neck.
The third pass was to the right of the first. He was nothing if not methodical and precise. He was also sporting an enormous erection that she could not help but notice. Before he could start the fourth pass of the hungry clippers she stopped him, “I have an idea,” she said as she hopped off the toilet. She undid his belt, pulled his pants down to his ankles, and freed his prick from its cage.
“What are doing?” he asked.
“Well, dear, if it’s OK with you I’m going to blow you while you finish, that is if you can last that long,” she said somewhat matter-of-factly.
He could only blink a few times and tried to mumble something along the lines of, “Gee honey, what an amazing idea.” It came out more like, “Um, er, ahhh well I… um…” She knelt down and with one quick move took him into her mouth completely. His knees almost buckled.
With a full mouth, she managed to tell him to keep going. He flipped the clippers back on and began to clipper the back of her head. He had trouble making it neat and efficient and more or less managed to butcher the job. No matter, all the evidence of a poor clipper job would soon be gone under a thick layer of shave gel. After a few more passes, he could contain himself no longer. He set the still running clippers down on the vanity.
Grabbing the back of her partially clippered head he pulled on her butchered hair and held on pulling and pushing her, effectively fucking her mouth. She had been down this road before and gave into his primal rhythm. Very quickly his orgasm built and then exploded with a volcanic fury. She drank furiously and did not let him fall from her mouth. His knees finally buckled under the strain and he slipped and ended up sitting on the floor. Only then did she open her mouth and let him go.
He sat panting on the floor. She leaned over to him and with a little bit of come in her mouth kissed him deeply. Unlike other times he did not resist but kissed her deeply in return taking a full taste of himself. He was an animal and she liked it. “Why hadn’t I decided to do this before?” she thought.
“After you regain your strength there, buddy boy, fire up those clippers and finish this would you,” she said lifting the loose hanks of hair on the right side of her head.
He stood up, rather slowly, and fired up the clippers and ran them over the right side of her head and then over the back. He then ran the clippers over head a second time very quickly to at least give the clipper job an even look. She noted that his concentration was immense, so was his new hard-on.
She stood and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hairless reflection didn’t so much shock her but it did surprise her some. The week before the trip she had tried to imagine what she would look like without hair but couldn’t quite do it. She had tried slicking her hair back with water but to no avail. She was surprised because she looked far better than she thought she would. Her neck was longer than she thought it was and her eyebrows were perhaps a bit to full now. All in all, she liked the change. It was radical to be sure, but she figured, what the hell, it’ll grow back.
As she looked at her self in the mirror, she noted her husband behind her watching her look at herself. She knew what was going through his mind and she was willing to bet that this experience was going to overwhelm his senses. She was wrong. It would soon overwhelm hers.
She rubbed her scalp vigorously with both hands. “Awfully rough. Here, use these,” she said as she handed him a fresh set of razors and some shave gel. He looked a little tentative, almost looking at her for confirmation that this is what she wanted. “Listen hun, I already told you I’m doing this as much for me as for you. Now stop looking at me like some idiot. You’ve probably dreamed of doing this many a night, so would you just lighten up, squirt out some of the gel and start shaving me?”
He looked at her, still with a tentative look in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Well, nothing really. It’s just that this isn’t quite how I wanted it to happen. Don’t get me wrong. I’m going to have a hard-on for the next two weeks thinking about today. It’s just that this isn’t quite how I dreamed of doing this,” he said.
She replied, “OK. How exactly did you dream this would happen?”
He blurted out the reply, “I was going to tie you up and do it by force.”
“Oh, you were, were you?”
“Well, not exactly, but I always wanted to do this forcibly.”
She looked at him for a moment. “OK. I’m game. Grab a couple of the scarves I bought and tie me up if you want,” she said followed by, “you may take me any way you wish, kind sir,” in a bad imitation of a Southern lady.
He got four scarves out of her bag and returned to the head. It would be cramped, but he figured he could do what he wanted to, needed to do. “Kneel with your knees apart, ankles together and hands behind your back.”
She knelt down and spread her knees apart to a comfortable distance with her ankles almost touching. She then put her hands behind her back, crossing her wrists above her butt. He stepped behind her, wrapped a scarf around her wrists, and tightened it very tightly. “Ouch, that’s a little tight,” she said.
“At this point this is my fantasy, not yours. If your fingers begin to feel numb then tell me. Otherwise, keep quiet and don’t say a word,” he said firmly.
She didn’t bother to reply. She knew in her heart that he would never hurt her so she decided to play the game. She had heard from an old girlfriend of his that he liked rough sex but he had never asked her to do anything like that. She wondered why. Maybe because she was a ‘good girl’ in his eyes. This would be new to her.
He tied her ankles to together then looped the scarf to meet up with the one around her wrists. This forced her into an uncomfortably erect posture. He then stood in front of her and grabbed one breast firmly. She gasped slightly as he wrapped a scarf around one breast and cinched it tight like the cock ring he occasionally wore. He did the same to the left. He took the last scarf and forced in her mouth. She felt very uncomfortable, with a little pain and very awkward. She looked up at him. His eyes were cold and calculating as he stared down at her. His engorged dick hung right in front of her face. She wanted him to remove the gag so she could suck him off again.
She heard the hiss of the gel can and felt a shock of chemical warmth on her head and felt his hands slowly message the gel in. The mint smell permeated the room and she couldn’t help but breathe it in deeply. She was getting hot. Being bound was a new experience for her and she liked the helplessness of it. Clinically she knew that what she was experiencing was a mild adrenaline or endorphin rush but emotionally it was something more primal. She was being taken and she liked it.
She felt the razor before she heard the scraping sound. It tugged at the stubble on her head and at times, it hurt. She felt the razor on the back of her neck first moving upward in four- or five-inch-long strokes. Next, she felt it on the back of her head at the nape right in the middle. In little tugging strokes, it moved toward her left ear then over it. It then returned to the middle and worked toward her right ear. All the time he was behind her. He stooped close and she could feel him breathing on her scalp. His breath felt cold and exciting.
He moved in front of her so he could begin shaving her front. His dick was as big as she had ever seen it and the veins and head were a deep pulsing blue. He stood there looking at her as she stared at his cock. “I bet you want this about now don’t you?” he asked.
He then did something he had never done to her before. He began to masturbate right in front of her, the tip of his dick just an inch or two from her nose. She alternated from going cross-eyed trying to look at the tip to looking at his eyes and back again. She suddenly realized what was about to happen. She couldn’t dodge the stream of semen that shot from the glans and it hit her right in face. The warm dribbly stream went over her nose and across one cheek onto her forehead. Her reaction shocked her. She leaned into it so the last dribbly pulses ran down her chin. She had always found this “cumshot” sort of thing thoroughly disgusting. Here it was her turn and she loved it.
He began to shave the top of her head as he had done the back, in small patches working top to left then top to right. His now limp dick hung in front of her face. The sticky semen on her face was now cool and beginning to dry some and it really felt disgusting. Had she not been gagged she would have taken him in her mouth and allowed him to do it again.
All of a sudden, she noted he had stopped shaving her.
Then she heard the hiss of the gel can again and heard the mechanical click of the razor head being changed. Oh god how she wanted to fuck him!
He began again at the back in longer strokes shaving her head again. When he stood in front of her, he asked, “would you like to finish the last little bit on top?”
She vigorously nodded.
He loosened the wrist restraints and let her right hand go free. He then pulled her left arm, twisted it slightly, locking the elbow joint straight, and tied the wrist to the ankle restraints. With one hand free, she was still no more mobile than she had been. He kept her gagged and handed her the razor. He helped guide it over the two-inch wide patch of white gel covering the last vestiges of her hair. She thrilled at the idea of shaving herself. She began to moan slightly and he knew she desperately needed relief.
When the last stripe of gel was gone, and she was completely bald, he sat down in front of her with his legs outstretched. She looked at him quizzically with one raised brow as if asking, “now what the hell are you doing?” to which he said aloud, “This.” With one swift and sudden move, he inserted the big toe of his left foot into her pussy and, well, toe-fucked her. She found herself spreading her knees farther than she ever thought possible and tried to use her weight to force his big toe deeper. She screamed through the gag as she came in a thundering, shattering, wave. She lost her balance and fell sideways onto the floor panting through her nose.
He stood and left her on the cold floor for what felt like and hour, but what was really just a couple of minutes. She was exhausted, and as the endorphin rush wore off, her joints began to ache. He untied her, kneaded her sore joints, and wiped her face of the now completely dried goo he shot onto it.
He removed the gag and handed her a glass of water that she gulped down.
He helped her up and she looked at herself in the mirror anew. She hugged him and began to cry. He whispered in her ear, “I love you more than you can ever know. If you truly trust me I can show you how much I love you.”
She pulled back and looked at him, “What do you mean?”
“I have some old, well, toys in storage that you may enjoy more than these crude scarves and such.”
“Care to elaborate?” she asked a little eagerly.
“Actually no. But I will tell you that leather bindings are far more satisfying than these things,” he said, holding up one of the scarves.
She looked at him. She had learned a few things about her own psyche during this little bit of fun. “Sure, when we get home you can do anything to me you want. All I want is for you to keep sharing yourself with me.”
“Sure thing babe. Now lets get you cleaned up and go show you off in the bar.”
She reached to grab one of the scarves that she was going to use to cover her now hairless head. “No. You won’t need that. You will never need that around me,” he said with an air of finality.
“OK,” was all she said in response dropping the scarf to the floor and following him to the other room to dress.
Some time later she entered the bar on the arm of her adoring husband. That one moment has become legend in the sea lore of the S.V. Extasy.