Yours

Yours

Yours – GMO

Tammi and I had been together for almost two years. Her taste in the unusual was probably one of the things that had attracted me to her in the first place. We hadn’t been together for two months before she started talking me into getting a tattoo. Once I had gotten one, a small rose on the inside of my thigh, she was onto something else. She talked me into a number of things that I would never have had the guts to do on my own, even if I had thought of them. Still, I must confess, I did let her talk me into them and haven’t regretted a single thing.

Whenever we were out someplace, be it a Lesbian club or just walking down the street, she would always point out other women who she found particularly erotic looking. I often wondered if she was trying to evoke jealousy from me or was she hinting at something? The one thing I soon noticed was that all these women had something in common; really short hair.

In fact, it seemed the shorter the hair the more attractive and erotic she found them. I must admit that I, too, found other women with short hair to be very appealing. Tammi’s hair was fairly short, tapered along the sides and back, spiked on top. My hair, on the other hand, resembled something of a sugar bowl cut.

I had never given my hair a lot of thought. As a young girl my Aunt would perm it every so often so that I resembled Shirley Temple. It was like this all the way through grade school and into junior high. By the time I got to high school I stopped the perms and just let it hang straight. My Aunt would then occasionally trim it with a pair of scissors to keep the bangs from my eyes.

“Tammi,” I asked one day, knowing the response that I would get. “Do you think I’d look good if my hair were shorter?”

“I think it would look great!” she replied.

I could see the fire in her steel blue eyes as she walked over to where I was sitting and began to run her fingers through my hair. Before I had asked she was somewhat preoccupied with reading a book. Almost immediately she had put down the book and come to me. I knew right away that her interest had been piqued.

“Maybe I should get it spiked like yours.” I suggested.

Tammi began pulling up the hair on top of my head. She looked at me through the mirror and thought about it. My eyes shifted back and forth between her reflection and mine.

“Maybe,” she said after giving it some thought. “Even shorter would look nice.”

“How short?” I inquired skeptically.

“Hmmm. How short would you go?”

I looked at her reflection and saw that her face held a wide, mischievous grin. I knew those little wheels in her head were turning. I also knew from the tone of her voice that she was getting ready to propose something. It was the same tone she used when she first suggested the tattoo.

“How short do you think I should get it cut?”

It was a loaded question, and I knew it. I couldn’t wait to hear her reply. I was sure that she was going to suggest a soft crew cut. What she answered caught me by surprise.

“You know what I think would be really cool?” she began, her voice sounding enthusiastic, but hesitant.

“No. What?” I asked after waiting through the long pause she took.

” I think it would look really, really cool if you had your head shaved.” To emphasize her point she pushed the front of my hair back and covered it with the palm of her hand.

“No way!” was my first response.

As I said, I never really gave much thought to my hair, but the idea of looking like an army recruit, which is what I thought she meant, didn’t sound all that appealing. After all, just because I’m a Lesbian doesn’t mean that I want to look like a man. Part of me likes looking feminine. I started muttering all kinds of reasons why I thought that it was a bad suggestion. I used every excuse I could think of from not having the facial shape for it to wondering how I’d explain it to my parents, coworkers and employer. Tammi offered up an argument for every one. “Besides, I’d be embarrassed as hell to walk into a salon and ask someone to do it,” I pleaded as my final excuse.

“No, no,” she countered. “I’ll do it for you. I think it would be really hot!”

With that she began nuzzling my neck. Her hand never left my head as she ran her fingers through my hair while she kissed and nibbled my flesh. I quickly found myself becoming wet and, as much as I hated to admit it, the thought of letting her cut off my hair began to sound more and more erotic.

My mind went back to my younger days when my true sexuality began to awaken. I had gone with a bunch of my friends to see the first Star Trek movie. The sight of Persis Khambatta was something that I will never forget. She made me feel all funny inside. I was absolutely fascinated and enthralled with her. Fortunately, I had the good sense not to share this feeling with my friends. I just went and saw the movie five or six more times just to see her. Naturally, now I own the video.

Up until that time I had never considered emulating Persis. I knew I found her, and almost all women with buzzed or no hair, to be a real turn on. It never occurred to me that having it done to me would be something I’d find just as exciting.

“Please Hon,” she whispered as she licked and nibbled on my ear. “It’ll grow back if you don’t like it.”

Her free hand slipped inside my shirt, found one of my breasts and began playing with my nipple ring (a whole other story). Her tongue traced around my ear, her lips and teeth gently closing down on my earlobe. My eyes closed as I leaned back in my chair and let out a soft moan. Seduction is something Tammi did well and she was doing her best now. My juices began flowing almost right away and soon I was lost in the world of her touch.

“We can get you a wig to wear to work or to your parents house,” she added, never stopping her seduction.

I was already too far gone to say much of anything, let alone argue. I just let out another soft moan and enjoyed what she was doing to me. I knew, from the way she was turning me on, that she was going to get her way. Knowing that, and thinking about her doing it to me, only added to the fire that was rapidly building inside me. With each passing second the idea of it grew more and more appealing.

Tammi removed her hand from by breasts and brought it down to my legs. Firmly, she started rubbing against the crotch of my jeans. I subconsciously inched my butt forward in the chair and separated my legs. “It’ll look so hot!” she kept whispering in my ear. “You’ll love it!” Her hand soon found its way inside my jeans. Her fingers began to play over my hairless mound. I was lost and I knew it. She was going to have her way and it made me so damn hot I could hardly stand it.

I should have known that this would have happened. Tammi was always into hair, or should I say the lack of it. The second time that we slept together she talked me into letting her shave my pubes. It was a very erotic act and I loved how it looked. I haven’t had hair there since. When my first orgasm hit I thought I was going to die. It was so incredibly intense! My body was swept over by wave after wave of pleasure. All the while I could hear her voice softly whispering over and over in my ear.

“Please, it’ll be great.”

“Yes! Yes!” I finally cried out, almost not believing that it was my voice.

“I promise that you’ll love it!” she assured me, her finger never letting up on my clit.

She and I eventually made it to the bed and continued our lovemaking. She never mentioned the idea again that night. She was, however, hotter than hell and had some of the most explosive orgasms that I have ever seen.

The next day I found that I wasn’t so sure that losing my hair was such a great idea. I hated to disappoint Tammi, but I figured that if she brought the subject up I would just tell her that I needed to think about it some more. Fortunately, or so I thought, she didn’t mention it all that day, or for the rest of that week.

Tammi left the apartment early that following Saturday. She didn’t say where she was heading or what she was going to do. She just said that she had some errands to run and that she’d bring home dinner. Other than being happy about the dinner I didn’t give it a second thought.

That night we had a spread of Chinese food and a couple bottles of wine for dinner. By the time we were through eating we each had a nice little buzz going. Wine and MSG will do that to you.

“Let me show you what I bought,” Tammi announced, jumping to her feet and almost falling.

She regained her balance and trotted off into the bedroom. A few minutes later she returned with several bags.

“First, I bought you this,” she said in a cutesy little voice.

She pulled from one of the bag a round hatbox. She then opened it and carefully removed its contents.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“You bought a wig?” I responded, things not having clicked as yet.

“It’s for you. I tried to get one that looks exactly like your hair.”

Suddenly it hit me. My stomach knotted up as I realized what she was up to. She hadn’t forgotten! I was screwed!

“But how did you know what size to get?” I asked, hoping that the damn thing wouldn’t fit.

“I got the size from the inside of your softball cap,” she replied smugly. She handed me the wig and I examined it nervously. It didn’t look too bad. It wasn’t quite my color, but it was close. I wondered how much it had cost, but she wouldn’t tell me.

“I also got this,” she said as she pulled another box from a bag. It was a home haircutting set, complete with clipper and various size guides. It also had an instruction book, several pair of scissors, several combs and a small tube of oil for lubricating the clipper.

“What else did you buy?” I just had to ask.

“Oh, just a few items for later,” she answered. “But I did get this.” From another bag she produced a barber’s cape. It was light blue with snaps along one edge to close it around your neck.

Tammi looked just like a kid at Christmas. Her blue eyes were shining bright. Her lips were bent up in a huge smile. Her movements were fast and furious, almost like she had too much energy.

“You really want to do this, don’t you?” I inquired in a tone that clearly showed my reservation.

The smile evaporated from her face. I could tell that my tone shook her. The change in her made me feel like two cents. I looked down at the wig.

“Well,” I finally said after staring at the fake hair for some time. “I guess it would look really cool. Besides, I don’t have to worry about work with this.”

I looked up at Tammi and saw the gleam return to her face. For a moment she just stood there looking back at me, her lips smiling again. Then, like a rabbit out of a box, she collected up all her bags and raced off into the bedroom. The wig and I sat together amongst the half-empty boxes of food. All I could do was shake my head.

About five minutes later Tammi returned and took me by the hand. Instead of leading me into the bedroom she led me to the kitchen sink.

“First I have to wash your hair,” she announced.

It seemed like a dumb idea to me, considering that she was going to cut it all off. Besides, I had just washed it that morning and hadn’t done anything to dirty it. I went along with her anyway.

She placed a towel over my shoulders and had me lean over the sink. She then started spraying my hair with water from the spray gun. Next I could feel a large dollop of cold shampoo plop down on the top of my head. A moment later her fingers began working their magic.

It was both relaxing and exciting to have Tammi wash my hair. She seemed to take extra special care to see that I enjoyed it. It was almost like she was making love to my scalp. I loved every second of it and hoped that it would never stop.

Unfortunately, after five or ten minutes, she stopped massaging the shampoo into my hair and picked up the spray gun. She then started rinsing the foam out, her fingers again massaging my head vigorously. When all the soap was out she repeated the whole process, which was just fine with me.

All too soon, the second washing was done. She pulled the towel from my shoulders and wrapped it around my head. It was only when it was secure that she allowed me to straighten up.

Without saying a word, but with a beaming smile, she took me by the hand and led me into the bedroom. She sat me down in front of our vanity and stood behind me. Gently, at first, she began rubbing my head with the towel.

When she was satisfied that she had dried my hair enough she pulled off the towel. Naturally, because of the vigorous rubbing, my hair looked like a rat’s nest. It was still damp and clung together, falling every which way. My first instinct was to try and fix it.

“No, no,” she protested, pushing my hand away. “I’ll take care of it.” Tammi picked up a brush and began brushing out my hair into its natural shape. She did it slowly and lovingly. I was really getting into all this attention. Not only did it feel good, it was also very arousing. In a few minutes my hair was in its normal style. Tammi backed up a few steps and looked at her handiwork. She then picked up her camera and took a couple of pictures.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, feeling slightly annoyed.

“Just something to remember this by,” she said.

I was still not sure about all this and part of me was afraid that I might change my mind and back out. Another part of me was afraid that Tammi might change hers. All I knew is that I wanted her to do it and do it now.

She took a shot of my side, my back and then one frontal. When she was done she put the camera on a tripod and connected her shutter cable to it. “Maybe we should take our clothes off so they don’t get covered in tiny hairs,” she suggested.

Before I could register an opinion she began undoing the buttons on my blouse. She seemed to be as nervous as I was. Her hand trembled so much that she fumbled with each one. I ended up undoing half of them myself. Soon we were both naked. Before I sat back down she reached into a small bag and presented me with a pair of large silver hoop earrings.

“I bought you a little something,” she said as she handed them to me. “Try them on.”

“Now?” I inquired, feeling a bit confused.

“Yes, I think that they’ll look even better when your hair is cut.”

I sat down and began putting the earrings on. Meanwhile, Tammi had turned around and started messing with some of the things that she had laid out on the bed. I couldn’t see what she was doing, even by looking at the mirror. I knew that she was getting ready for the big event and the knot forming inside my stomach told me I was better off not knowing. Instead, I concentrated on putting the earrings on.

I looked at my reflection and admired my new earrings. I must admit that they looked really nice. They matched the ones I wore through my nipples, only those are only about half the diameter. These were so large that they hung just about half way to my shoulders.

Suddenly, with the flourish of a bullfighter, Tammi covered me with the barber’s cape. I hadn’t expected it so it caught me by surprise. My heart skipped a beat and I held my breath as she snapped it tightly around my neck.

If I ever wondered what a condemned person feels when they are being strapped into the electric chair I sure had a sense of it now. The cape was like some kind of psychological bondage. Although I wasn’t tied to the chair with rope or anything, feeling that cape on me had the same effect. In my mind it seemed that I had just given up my last chance to call it off.

Tammi knelt beside me and pushed a plug into the wall receptacle. She then rose upright, turned and softly kissed my neck, sending chills through my body. She took my chin in her hand, turned my face towards her and then kissed me.

“This is going to be so cool!” she whispered in a voice that dripped with lustful excitement.

All I could do was moan softly.

After another quick peck on the mouth Tammi moved behind me. She picked up something, but held it down behind my back so that I couldn’t see it in the mirror.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Do it,” I said, almost choking on my own words.

There came a loud snap, which made me jump, and then a humming noise. My heart was racing and I was breathing rapidly. I also realized that I was becoming quite wet. I resisted the urge to finger myself even a little.

Tammi leaned over me and, using her left hand, pushed my bangs back against the top of my head. Then, using her right hand, she brought the buzzing clippers around and laid the shining teeth against my forehead. I watched in shock and amazement as she started sliding it up my forehead and into my hair.

The pitch of the buzzing changed noticeably as the blades cut into my hair. The metal teeth felt very warm, almost hot, against my skin. I held my breath and watched.

The clippers slipped into my hair like a hot knife through butter.

Clipped hair began cascading down my face and into my lap. I could feel the hot metal sliding deeper across the front of my head. In the mirror I could see the first track of stubble quickly growing longer and longer. It felt like I was in a dream.

Tammi pushed the clippers back all the way to the crown of my head. She then lifted it and blew away the fallen hair. I now had a path of stubble cut straight back across the top of my head. I had to resist the urge to reach up and touch it.

She brought the clippers back to my forehead and slowly slipped it over my head to widen that path. She then repeated the process several more times until all the hair on top of my head was now either lying in my lap or on the floor.

I looked at her face through the mirror and saw a look of intense concentration. I also noticed that her nipples were hard and that her pubes glistened. I knew that this was making her hot. I knew that this was making me hot!

Tammi next began running the clippers up the sides of my head. The metal teeth were really getting hot now, almost too hot. I found that I kind of liked the feeling. Actually, I liked it a lot.

Finally, she moved to the back of my head. She pushed me forward so that my chin rested against my chest. By looking up I could see the top of my head reflected in the mirror. It looked really strange, brown stubble covering a field of white. It felt strange, cool and light. Now I knew how Persis had felt.

I felt the hot teeth move across the soft flesh of my neck. I could feel the clipper travel up to the top of my head, clearing a path and joining it to the field atop my head. The heat and the buzzing on my skin made me shudder.

Before I realized it, Tammi shut off the clippers. She then began blowing and brushing the clumps of hair away. I raised my head and looked at what she had done.

“I didn’t think that you were going to cut it this short,” I said, lying. I reached up and began to run my fingertips over the short stubble. It felt warm and rough. I liked how it felt.

“Oh, I’m not done yet,” Tammi announced. “Now I have to clean off the stubble.”

“What?” I asked with surprise as she clicked off some more pictures.

“Just sit tight and I’ll be right back.” she replied, finishing with her camera and heading into the bathroom.

I heard her running the water, then I noticed the sound change. She was filling something up. A few minutes later she returned carrying a bucket and an old towel.

She laid the towel on the floor and put the pail down on it. She then reached into the bucket and pulled out one of our good towels that had been soaking in it. She wrung it out so that it was still wet, but not dripping. Finally, she shook it open and wrapped it around my head like a turban.

Although it was hot, it wasn’t uncomfortably so. Within a few seconds I grew accustomed to the temperature.

“This will make everything nice and soft.” she informed me.

Tammi gently pressed down on the towel making rivulets of water run down my face. As she did I decided to be a little playful. I reached from under the cape and ran my hand along the inside of her leg. Instinctively, her legs began to spread. When I reached her pubes I found that she was extremely wet. Just as I tried to slip my finger between her sopping folds she surprised me by jumping back.

“No, not yet,” she cried out. “I don’t want to lose the excitement.”

I knew what she meant, which was why I had avoided touching my own dripping folds. I had to admit that what she was doing to me was hot. I was so aroused that I found it extremely difficult to keep from touching myself.

After about ten minutes Tammi removed the towel from my head. She picked up a can of shaving gel and squirted a large glob of it in her hand. She then began rubbing over my scalp. Soon my head was covered in a snow-white cap of foam and she was taking more photographs.

She ripped open a package of disposable razors, picked up one and removed the protective cap. She then placed it at the very spot where she had begun with the clippers. Slowly and carefully she began dragging it back. Although I could feel the razor sliding over my head, it was the sound that affected me more. The scratching noise of a sharp blade cutting through stubble made me shudder. It wasn’t a shudder of fear. It was more like one of unexpected stimulation.

Tammi could only shave back about an inch before she had to rinse the razor in the bucket of water. After a few times of doing this I could see another path being drawn. This time it was a path of smooth skin surrounded by shaving foam.

Over and over, she shaved the front part of my head. Several times I had to wipe soap and water from my face before it got into my eyes. The last thing I wanted was not to be able to see what she was doing to me.

I could tell when the razor became dull. Instead of sliding gently it started to tug and pull at the stubble. Tammi could feel it too and would replace it with a fresh one from the package.

Inch by inch, she scraped the foam from my head. Inch by inch, more and more bare flesh began to show. It took a while, but eventually she had removed all the foam from the top of my head. Now she began on the sides. Perhaps the skin is more sensitive there, but I found that shaving around my ears was very, very sensual. Maybe it was because I could hear it better. I really don’t know. All I do know was that I enjoyed that part the best.

Finally, she began doing the back of my head. She pushed it down so that my chin was once again resting against my chest. The touch of the razor on my neck felt almost as good as my ears. I was also thankful that she was almost done.

When she was finished she started running her fingertips over my head. When she found a rough spot she squirted out a little gel, rubbed it on the spot and went over it with a fresh razor. Eventually she was satisfied with her work and pronounced it complete.

“What do you think?” she asked, grinning broadly and picking up her camera again.

I pulled my hand from under the cape and touched my now naked head. The feeling was indescribable. Inside I felt a mixture of disbelief, remorse and arousal. At that moment I couldn’t say whether my bald head looked erotic or bizarre. There was just too much to digest.

“Go take a quick shower and wash off the hairs and soap while I clean up,” she said after she was finished taking pictures.

She unsnapped the cape and carefully removed it so that more hair wouldn’t get dumped on the floor. I then got up, went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

It was a strange sensation to feel the water cascading against my bald head. I let the shower run over it for several minutes before I reached up and touched it again. I was having a hard time believing that I had let her do this to me. Being bald was something that was going to take some getting used to.

Realizing that I had no choice now but to get used to it, the remorse began to ebb away. I reached up and slid my fingers over my slick head. That’s when I admitted to myself that I actually loved the way it felt. The whole episode had turned me on like nothing else before. Tammi had been right.

“Tammi?” I called out.

“I’ll be right in,” I heard her reply.

My gawd, I wanted her bad!

 

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