(Please be aware that I do not wish to offend anyone’s religious sensibilities with this story. I would however appreciate any feedback going – to [email protected])
Worship – Cestrian Clipper
She was summoned by the bell; a long-lasting, sole, monotonous chime. It rang out across the deserted streets. Those that heard it took little action other than to wonder why the bell was being rung at such an early hour. Janice’s ears recognised it as the sign she was waiting for to walk up the main street to the church on the hill.
He stood in the vestry, the bell ropes rested behind him, above him the bell had fallen silent. He moved into the church, up to the altar. He surveyed the pews as if he was to begin a sermon, today there would be no sermon. His flock thought he was away. Today, after having counselled Janice through her problems he was meting out what he had decided, and what Janice had accepted as the only way to proceed. He had described it as her cleansing.
On the altar the usual instruments of confirmation were replaced by more unusual tools. He knew what he was about to do, he was sure that Janice would have followed the instructions he had given her at their last meeting. She was too afraid of the implications of not adhering to his judgement.
He waited at the altar as he saw Janice enter the church, she turned and locked the door before proceeding up the aisle towards him. The previous summer he had stood in the same position and watched Janice walk toward him on her father’s arm. Just in front of him was her husband-to-be. He allowed himself a wry smile as he contemplated whether her husband knew where Janice was now, or what she was about to do.
She walked to him in silence, and stood without speaking before him. One of her previously issued instructions was a vow of silence on the Day of Cleansing. He could speak, and asked Janice if she had prepared herself as was she was supposed to, she confirmed that she had by passing him a small bag. It was heavier than he expected and he looked inside to check. Surprised by the aroma that escaped, he then selected some of the short and dark, contents between his thumb and forefinger; he rubbed them carefully and was surprised at their softness.
As he continued to rub the bag’s contents he beckoned to Janice and asked her to show him what she had done. Willingly Janice lifted her dress to reveal her naked form beneath. Stripped of any underwear he was able to see the paleness of Janice’s skin. Her hoisted skirt revealed her hairless crotch. He smiled and pocketed the bag containing Janice’s severed pubic hair, he recognized his own arousal as he gazed at the baldness of her holy trinity. The blushing of her skin suggested to him that her shaving had been recent and that she was, as instructed, freshly shaven.
Pleased with her compliance he asked Janice for the tools of her depilation, and again, without question she handed over a small pair of scissors along with a recently bought, yet heavily used straight razor. He knew where else this should have been employed and handed Janice a baby wipe before waiting for proof. Obligingly Janice wiped it across her forehead, as it began its passage Janice wore a carefully crafted kohl line in place of her eyebrows. As the moistened wipe moved across her skin it erased the line of make up, to reveal a smoothly shaven brow. Her knew that like her pussy hairs, Janice’s eyebrow hairs were now in his pocket.
Satisfied that Janice had followed his directions he allowed himself a few seconds to savour the moment. He recalled his sermons on original sin, and wondered where the Almighty would rank his actions. When he thought of God he laughed internally – as his god was not the same ethereal being as Janice’s god. Of course Janice had no knowledge of this. She was convinced that in her god’s eyes the cleansing would free her of her recently acquired sinfulness.
She knelt down, exactly where she regularly knelt to receive what passed as the blood and the body of Christ, today she would give rather than receive. Her raven tresses hung straight down, despite the best efforts of the wind her hair had benefited from the lengthy brushing she had given it earlier that morning. She spent so long carefully teasing each hair from any tangle as she appreciated that it was going to be the last time in a long while that she would have the need for a hairbrush.
He turned to the altar, next to the crucifix there lay a pair of clippers. Earlier he had buzzed them up his forearm to check their efficiency. Now they faced a more exacting task, and one that would have much more noticeable and drastic results. As Janice bowed her head the clippers were turned on. She felt her hair being pulled taut, just as she became used to the tension her head was freed from restraint as the clippers had cut away through her hair, severing it a couple of inches from her scalp. He laid the freed locks on the altar, gradually more and more hair gathered in a pile next to the burning altar candles.
He methodically worked over her head as her body arched willingly forward, making his task all the easier. Handful after handful of her long hair was grabbed and separated from her head, leaving a shorter, more brutal cut. Each swathe of the clippers freed a handful of Janice’s hair, each harvest was a good eighteen inches long. The first handful had been carefully placed on the altar, subsequent ones were tossed with far less care.
Janice’s hair was soon transformed into a less than flattering ragged crop, if she were to leave now, few people would understand what had happened to her. However she had no intention of leaving, knowing that her cleansing was not complete. She had to continue with this process, her sacrifice would find her absolved and free from her sin.
The next sensation she was aware of was an impatient buzzing at her temples. She closed her eyes and listened to as well as felt the buzzing pass to the back of her head. She was aware of falling hair as it fell down her back and rested on her upturned calves. What she couldn’t see was the way her hair was mercilessly shorn away. Her pale scalp was clearly visible. Only faint stubble remained in the wake of clippers, her white, virgin skin below, like a dusting of pepper on snow.
Soon more of her crown joined this first strip in being laid bare, the remaining hair was barely perceptible in the dim light. After buzzing the top of her scalp to the bone he proceeded to push the clippers down the side of her head, so that the shorn hair fell in a dark halo all around Janice. She remained as if at prayer as her head was clipped as close as the unprotected blades allowed. She resembled an out-of-place Buddhist at prayer in a Christian place of worship.
As she was cleansed she tried hard to focus on repentance and ignore the feelings of pleasure coursing through her. She could feel a wetness between her legs, the baldness of her vulva was touching against her legs and she was aware of the freshness of the feeling, there was no hair concealing the entrance to her very essence of womanhood. Although she considered that her cleansing was removing one of her finest defining features she felt altogether more sexy and aroused as she remained kneeling.
The silence bought her back to her senses. The clippers had finished; with all his will he was unable to clip any more hair from her. Unknown to Janice he was as aroused as she was. As he gazed at her stubbly scalp he was aware of a twitch from his own cock, one that had been hidden from women for too long. Despite what was going on, he knew that if he was to succumb now to such base feelings he would be ruined.
Janice remained with her hands at her sides. He took up a silver bowl containing foam and applied it all over her head, he allowed time for the foam to soften the bristles. As the stubble was immersed in foam he prayed, to himself rather than anyone else. Janice felt the warmth surround her head, as she had been clipped she had felt a new lightness about her head, as her abundant hair was shorn away. As she had undergone her barbering she had become used to the touch of the slightest draught on her scalp. Once more, although temporarily so, she was insulated. She was excited about the thought that for a long time to come, there would be little protection, or little sanctuary for her.
The warmth of the foam cooled and he picked up the razor Janice had presented to him earlier. Now it was about to shave its third area of Janice smooth. Soon her head would join her brow and her pussy in a union of smoothness. He began scraping the stubble at her nape, with small semicircular passes of the blade he began to work up her head. The foam bought the flecks of stubble with it, the skin that was revealed was as pale as ivory. He allowed himself a moment of pleasure by wiping away some foam from an area yet to be shaved. He gazed at the contrasts presented before him; dark, where hair remained against the paleness of her hair free skin and smoothness, against the delicate fuzz of Janice’s previously clippered head.
Covering up this revealed patch he resumed his shaving, passing the blade close against her skin, he believed he could hear each individual hair being shorn where it left its follicle. Janice was aware of the whereabouts of the razor by the tingle that was created by its kiss. Each pass resulted in about an inch’s worth of hair being removed, a wipe of the blade and it was back at work, creating baldness.
Soon the course of the razor had left Janice devoid of hair, she remained kneeling, her denuded skull reflecting the pale light of the church. He went to the font and returned with cool water that he doused her head with, the chilliness of the water caused Janice to shudder. He was pleased with this baptism, and wished he could perform more of them.
As she knelt he cradled her smooth head in his hands before he spoke for both of them, offering prayer, one he knew that would not be answered. Janice felt the relief was over her, as the water had some moments before. He lifted up her head, and looked into her eyes, he was captivated by the beauty of her smooth face. There were no eyebrows, or hair to hide her beauty. He signalled to her to stand up and face the altar.
As she stood up Janice felt her shaven skull. She was surprised at the feeling. She was also surprised by her feelings during her cleansing. She was pleased that her sacrifice had rendered her free from guilt. As she faced the altar he moved behind it. Janice stood in front, a carpet of her clippings at her feet, these dark clipping were no more than two inches in length. The hair that had been reaped earlier was a much lengthier crop. He took this hair from where it had been bundled next to the candle and selected the longest cuts. These he deposited into his pocket after removing the bag that Janice had collected her pubic and eyebrow hair in.
He placed a large salver on the front of the altar, between to candles. He took a small selection of the bag’s contents and placed them on the plate. He gestured to Janice and instructed her to pick up two handfuls of the hair at her feet and deposit them on the collection plate. He topped off the pile with the remaining locks. The blackness of Janice’s former glory lay lifeless on the silver platter. Janice’s eyes widened as he picked up the two candles and moved the flickering flames down to ‘her’ hair, as the flame neared the dark mound some of the hairs nearest to the heat of the flame sizzled and shrank away from the heat.
Any retreat was futile as he increased the pace of the candle’s approach and plunged the flames into the waiting mass of hair. The longest locks sizzled and burned from end to end, a plume of grey smoke rose high into the church as the hair continued to burn, dancing as it shrivelled away. The flames enthralled Janice, she stood staring at the inferno before her, ignorant of the unpleasant smell. As the hair burnt she felt her now cool scalp, the former resting place of her now cindered hair.
The only remaining vestiges of Janice’s hair were concealed within the silk bag she had given earlier, along with two sheaves of hair that he had gathered together and tied before hiding them in his pockets.
He spoke to aloud to Janice, himself and the empty church. “Amen.”
Janice smiled and, relieved, spoke for the first and only time. “Thank you father.”
She turned away from the altar and walked from the church, believing that she had been absolved of her sins. Behind her back he smiled at her, knowing her penance to be worthless in the eyes of God, but very satisfying in his own eyes.
No one saw the newly bald Janice leave the church. As she left she was aware of the steady chime of the bells, the same ones that summoned her were announcing her departure. Suddenly she became aware of a feeling of oppression, why didn’t she feel as carefree as she expected?
He had returned to the back of the church, and after ringing the bells as if to announce Janice’s new appearance he had disrobed. He picked up her hair and weighed it in his hands. Impressed with its weight he dragged it over his skin. His erection stiffened at the touch, soon it stood proud, a testament to Janice’s beauty. He held her hair between his hands, and pulling it taut, he wrapped it around his erect penis, before tying it in a knot and allowing it to fall down his erection to rest on his own recently shaven genitalia. He then picked up the other sheaf that he had carefully bound before also tying it around his cock.
With his hardness encased in the warmth and softness of her hair he began to masturbate as he replayed the events of that morning’s sermon.
– – – – – To be continued….