Baldies only
Val’s world flipped the day her mom announced the new job—constant travel, no time for an 18-year-old fresh out of high school. ‘You’ll stay with your Aunt Linda on her farm,’ her mom said, packing Val’s bags. Val had never met her aunt or the cousin she’d heard whispers about. A flight and a bumpy bus ride later, Val stepped off in the dusty middle of nowhere, the air thick with hay and earth. Aunt Linda waited in a pickup truck, her face weathered but kind, dark hair tied back. Beside her sat Rachel, 19, stunning with sharp cheekbones, full lips, and shoulder-length auburn waves that framed her athletic build. Val felt plain next to them, her long blonde hair cascading past her shoulders, body slim from high school track.
The farm sprawled across endless fields—cows lowing, chickens scratching. Aunt Linda wasted no time. ‘Work starts at dawn,’ she said, handing Val overalls. The days blurred into chores: feeding animals, mucking stalls, hauling bales with a crew of rough farmhands. Daniel, 22, broad-shouldered with a perpetual smirk, catcalled every woman in sight. ‘Lookin’ good, ladies!’ he’d holler, grabbing his crotch. No one liked him—Aunt Linda shot him glares, Rachel flipped him off—but he kept at it, eyes lingering on Val’s legs.
One sweltering afternoon, Rachel nudged Val. ‘Wanna come with me to town? Need a summer trim.’ Val shrugged—nothing better to do. The barbershop was a faded storefront, clippers humming inside. Rachel hopped into the chair first, Tony the barber—a burly guy in his 30s with tattooed arms—draping her in a cape. He fired up the clippers, shearing the sides and nape close, leaving a fade that exposed her smooth skin. Enough length on top to comb over, but it screamed boyish edge. Val watched, transfixed, as the machine buzzed over Rachel’s neck, vibrations echoing. Her pussy throbbed, a wet heat building between her thighs. She shifted, pressing legs together, pulse racing at the sight of Rachel’s hair falling in soft piles.
Rachel grinned from the mirror. ‘Your turn?’ Tony asked Val, wiping the chair. Val’s body moved on autopilot. She slid under the cape, heart slamming. ‘What’ll it be?’ Tony’s voice rumbled. Words tumbled out: ‘All off.’ He nodded, clippers roaring to life. The first pass plowed from forehead to crown, blonde strands shearing away in thick chunks. Val’s hand slipped under the cape, fingers finding her soaked panties, rubbing her clit through the fabric. The vibration against her scalp shot straight to her core. Tony worked methodically, stripping every side, nape, top—leaving her with velvety stubble. Then came the shaving cream, lathered hot and thick. Straight razor in hand, he scraped over her head, four slow passes, honing it mirror-smooth. Each glide made Val’s pussy clench; she plunged two fingers inside, pumping furiously. Orgasms ripped through her—first a shuddering wave, then another, juices soaking her hand. She bit her lip to stifle moans, but Tony noticed, his eyes darkening as he took his time, savoring her squirms.
In the corner, Rachel leaned against the wall, hand shoved down her shorts, fingering her pussy in rhythm, breaths quick. When Tony finished, Val stood on wobbly legs, scalp gleaming like polished chrome. Rachel paid, eyes hungry. Back home, Aunt Linda’s jaw dropped. ‘What happened?’ Val and Rachel mumbled about a mix-up. Linda sighed. ‘Day off tomorrow. Sort yourselves.’
That night, alone in the guest room, Val traced her bald head, fingers gliding over the slick dome. Heat flooded her again. She stripped, legs spread on the bed, fingers diving into her pussy. She fucked herself hard, thumb on clit, replaying the razor—orgasm after orgasm crashing, body arching as she came to the bald reflection in the mirror.
By day two’s end, Rachel’s demeanor shifted. She cornered Val in the barn, hand gripping the smooth scalp. ‘You liked that, didn’t you? My little bald bitch.’ Val’s knees weakened, a submissive nod escaping. Rachel smirked, pushing her against hay bales, fingers yanking Val’s shorts down. She ate Val’s pussy roughly, tongue thrusting deep into the wet folds, sucking the clit until Val bucked and squirted. Rachel stood, wiping her mouth. ‘Mine now.’
Next day in the fields, Daniel’s taunts hit harder. ‘Bald freak! Egghead slut!’ He grabbed Val’s arm, rubbing her head. ‘Bet you’d let me fuck you right here.’ Horny haze from her smooth scalp clouded everything. ‘Yes,’ Val whispered. They ducked behind the barn, Daniel shoving her pants down, cock springing free—thick and veined. He bent her over a crate, slamming into her pussy from behind. ‘No one’s gonna want a cue ball like you,’ he grunted, pounding deep, balls slapping her ass. ‘Just an egghead whore for my dick.’ Val moaned, pushing back, pussy gripping him as she came, his thrusts brutal until he filled her with hot cum.
The pattern locked in. Daniel cornered her daily—fucking her against fences, in the loft, cock ramming her mouth until she gagged, swallowing his load while he mocked her baldness. ‘Stubble slut—keep it smooth or I’ll tell everyone.’ Rachel dominated nights: strapping on a dildo, pegging Val’s ass hard, fingers in her pussy, or making her lick Rachel’s asshole clean, tongue probing deep while Rachel ground on her face.
Weeks in, mid-fuck behind the tractor, Daniel laughed. ‘Your head’s growing fuzz—looks stupid.’ Val felt the prickle, obsession flaring. After chores, she raced to the barbershop as Tony locked up. ‘Please, shave me bald,’ she begged, eyes pleading. He smirked, ushering her in. ‘Strip.’ Val peeled off clothes, naked and dripping. In the chair, she spread her legs, fingers circling her clit. Tony lathered her head, straight razor gliding three times, erasing every hint to shiny perfection. Then her eyebrows—scraped bare, face stark. Down to her pussy: cream foaming her mound, lips parted as the blade shaved her smooth, exposing every fold. Val came twice, pussy clenching around her fingers.
Tony unzipped, cock hard and throbbing. He bent her over the chair, thrusting into her slick pussy, hands gripping her bald head. ‘My shiny toy,’ he growled, fucking deep and fast. Val moaned, pushing back, orgasming as he stretched her. He pulled out, stroking, cum spurting thick ropes over her scalp, dripping down. Val scooped it, licking her fingers clean, then rushed home to masturbate—fingers buried, reliving the hot load on her dome.
‘Tony’s orders: back weekly,’ she told herself. The summer spun in rotation. Mornings, Daniel’s cock in her pussy or mouth during breaks, degrading her bald slut status. Afternoons, Rachel’s commands—eating her pussy on the porch, or scissoring until both came, clits grinding. Evenings, Val’s solo sessions, rubbing her smooth head while fucking herself raw. Once a week, Tony’s shop: stripped, shaved head to pussy, fucked senseless, cum glazing her chrome dome. Aunt Linda stayed oblivious, chalking Val’s glow to farm life. By summer’s end, Val craved the cycle—bald, used, utterly submitted.
