Unknown Passion 5 – M’Lyn
By the time Maggie met up with the bridesmaids and the bride, they had all gathered in the special area set aside for getting their hair and makeup done, and then for them to get dressed. Maggie had not had much sleep the night before, and she couldn’t help yawning. Luckily, no one commented on it. Maggie had grabbed a diet Coke, hoping the caffeine would help ease her fully awake. Everyone was chattering away around her as one by one they had their hair styled by a very fashionable, and quite expensive, stylist from New York.
Maggie couldn’t stop her thoughts from returning to the night before. She had never before known such passion. Her skin felt sensitive still, from John’s touch. She could quite happily return to his bed right now, and not leave there for a week, maybe two, she thought to herself with a smile on her lips. After her submissiveness, and performing, quite eagerly, oral sex on John, he had pushed her back on the bed, and entered her soft body eagerly. She had gasped, she remembered at the feeling of his smooth groin slapping against her denuded pussy. The sounds of their lovemaking had filled the silence of the room.
The fabulous things he had said to her, the way he had made her feel had her blood singing through her veins as never before. Several times he would stop making love, and demand that she again promise to whatever he commanded her to do, even if his command were given to her through another person. She had told him, eagerly, that yes, she would do whatsoever he might wish of her. She wanted to please him. She wanted to be with him, and to make him happy. She had told him that over and over, as he caressed her sweet, hairless pussy, and massaged her full, round breasts.
She sighed softly as she recalled his hands on her breasts. She had always been self-conscious about her large breasts. Their size had always drawn unwanted attention her way. But when he had praised their size, their color, the way her nipples peaked up, even when he just talked about them, she had felt so at peace, and yet so aroused, she had been amazed. With each touch of his skillful hands, squeezing her breasts, massaging the firm flesh, and then playing teasingly with her nipples, she became wetter and wetter. The lips of her hairless pussy were shiny and wet with both of their love fluids. When he had lowered his head to lick her nipples, she had cupped his head lovingly, and tenderly holding him close. He had lightly bitten her pink, taut nipples. And she had cried out softly.
He had taken her hair and spread it over her large breasts and caressed the round globes through the silken red strands. He had told her how beautiful she was, with her hair concealing her body from him. He loved her ‘big tits’ he had said, watching her squirm as he used those words. He told her that when they were alone, back at his home, he would have her naked most of the time. He wanted to be able, he had told her, to reach out and squeeze her tits, and fondle her pussy whenever he felt like it. She had blushed brightly as she became even more aroused, and her body gushed forth with her arousal liquid. He had stroked his index finger over her smooth pussy lips, lifting the wetness to his lips. He had tasted her and said she was sweeter than wine.
Maggie closed her eyes as she remembered how his slightest touch, whether it was against her cheek, over her rounded shoulder, or a tickle behind her knee, he aroused her to near climax. Dear Lord, she wondered, how was this possible? How could this man make her feel such things? How could they go on, beyond this idyllic weekend? She wanted to be with him; inner soul was craving for his presence.
And then she heard her voice being called and realized it was her turn. She had left her hair loose, waiting to be braided here, maybe with ribbons, or some flowers, she wasn’t sure what the stylist had decided. She got up languidly and walked to the chair, which had been set up in front three mirrors so the stylist could easily see each angle. Maggie smiled up at him, waiting.
The stylist leaned down and whispered in her ear.
“John told that he and you had decided to have your hair cut short, and that I was to give you a nice cut, even though you might have changed your mind. He warned me that you might.”
Maggie’s eyes got very wide as she stared at the smiling stylist. She recognized in his words that John was ordering her to cut her hair. Dear God! How could he? How could she go through with this? She should protest, but a part of her remembered her promise to him. She had agreed to obey his wishes, no matter what they might be. He had even said that he might make his wishes known to her through another. Oh Lord, had he been planning this since the day before, when she had told about the stylist wanting to cut her hair. He had said he didn’t want her to cut her hair. And yet here he had gone and talked to the stylist and told him to cut her hair.
Maggie watched, feeling she wanted to speak, to protest, and yet she didn’t. She watched in silence as the stylist raised the shears and inserting them even with the bottom of her ear, he cut off 3 feet of hair. As if in a fog, she heard her friends saying something, but all she could see was the hair that now barely covered her ear and the stylist was continuing to cut around her hair. Each schnick of the blades and another long lock was severed and dropped to floor, to be kicked out of the way by the stylist. And finally, that last horrible schnick sound next to her other ear, and her hair was cut off. She moved her head a bit, and the hair brushed her cheek.
The stylist was saying something, but Maggie couldn’t quite understand what he was saying. The stylist proceeded to cut her hair into an ear-tip bob that curved upwards in the back to the occipital bone. The hair below was clipped off to 1/4th inch with a large black clipper. He finished with cutting her bangs that were about an inch above her eyebrows. He quickly finished the style, telling her how easy this was going to be for her to keep up, not to mention how carefree this would be each day when she got up in the morning. When he was finally done, her hair curved under and swung forward silkily against her cheeks and swooped upwards at the back to near nothingness. He told her that she should probably get it cut every three weeks, to keep it really neat. And then he spun her away, and said she was all done.
Maggie got up in a daze. Her friends all told her how nice her hair looked, that it looked very chic, quite sophisticated they said. And how it really accented her eyes. But Maggie knew, and she saw it in their eyes, they all wondered why in the world she had cut off her beautiful waist-length hair. And Maggie couldn’t very well say ‘my Master told me to cut it,’ now, could she? And so Maggie sat back down in her chair until it was her turn for her expert makeup job. The whole time the makeup specialist applied her makeup, accenting her eyes as never before, Maggie could only stare at the reflection. That woman with the very short bob couldn’t possibly, she would tell herself. This had to be a dream.
But it wasn’t, and soon all the women were getting dressed in their very beautiful bridesmaid dresses, and then they were helping the bride, everyone stopping to mop up someone else’s tears, both of joy, laughter, and a tinge of sadness, on the part of the bride’s mother. It all passed in a bit of a blur for Maggie. She was beginning to feel emotionally drained. It wasn’t long before they were on their way to the church, and then lining up to walk down the aisle, before the bride. As she walked down the aisle, a smile on her lips, she could tell that a lot of the people from work were shocked by her appearance. And then she saw John. He wasn’t smiling exactly, but Maggie saw the look of satisfaction in his eyes. She could tell that he was pleased with her, and his eyes told her so. And when his eyes slid down, and saw the incredible display the dress made of Maggie’s breasts, the look turned to a hot, ravenous desire, which he worked hard to tamp down and not reveal.
The wedding passed in a whirl of activity, which was pretty much a blur when Maggie tried to recall specific events. She remembered when it was all over at the church, and they had all been released from the receiving line to regather at the house for the reception, that John had been right there, and he grabbed her hand to lead her off to his car. Maggie had sat next to John, and about half the way back to the house, he turned off onto a small side road. He pulled off the road and turned to look at her.
“You look so beautiful Maggie.”
She turned and smiled at him, but her hand strayed up to smooth her hair. He caught her hand.
“I knew if you didn’t protest cutting your hair Maggie, that you would be ready for our relationship to proceed. That by accepting my wishes, you would be willing to accept all my wishes. I only have your best interests in mind.”
Maggie looked at him. “But, I loved my hair long…”
John hugged her close. “You look so sexy with your hair cut like this. I couldn’t believe how great you did look, as you walked towards me. Seeing you dressed up like this, you are a truly beautiful woman. I realized how lucky I am, that you have accepted me.” He leaned forward and kissed her full lips. He kissed her lightly, knowing that anything more, and they wouldn’t make it to the reception. “Okay, honey, let’s get going to that reception. I admit that I wish we had come up alone so we could leave whenever we wish.”
Maggie smiled at that. If they hadn’t come up with Max and Carlie, then none of this might have happened. Why, they might have gone on for much longer, not saying anything to each other. Maggie refused to acknowledge the sharp pain that caused in her chest, in the area over her heart. She still wasn’t sure how deep this relationship, if that is what it was to be, was really going to be.
John restarted the car and headed back to the estate.