Bald and Breakfast II

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Bald and Breakfast II


By Dreadlocks


Mary and Isabella




Isabella sat at her desk, twirling the tips of her hair into points as she pondered the draft that she was proofing for the Edmunds case. It had been all she had done for nearly a week, and she was growing fatigued.

There was no doubt that it was the most important lawsuit she had ever been involved in, and it would be a feather in her cap if she and the three other attorneys she was partnered with could pull it off. She imagined herself being made partner or something, even though she knew that was a long way off.

“Bella?” Anthony’s grating persistence had been the bane of her existence during this case, his constant nagging rivaling any overbearing housewife’s. “How’s it going.”

“Please don’t call me ‘Bella’,” She chided, tossing the page she was reading on top of the thirty-page draft. Even though she made an exception when it came to Mary, her partner of three years, she hated the foreshortening of her name, especially Bella. “It still needs work.” She sighed.

“What do you mean?” Anthony’s tone was one of insult rather than inquiry.

“You may be a killer in the courtroom, pal, but your basic grasp of the English language leaves something to be desired.” Isabella insisted. “Have Sydney go over this again, with a fine-tooth comb, this time.” She knew that he hated handing things off to his paralegal, thinking his grammar was perfect as it was. He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Just do it, Anthony.” She handed him the stack of papers. “When I get back from my three-day vacation, I’m hoping we can submit this to the partners for approval.”

“Oh, you and Mary, up in the mountains, doing… whatever you…”

“Get over it, Anthony. You have no idea what Mary and I mean to one another, let alone… what we do.” She responded, acerbically.

He grinned, lasciviously, and walked away, leaving her disgusted with his assumptions.




Mary couldn’t wait to get away. She had booked this little excursion some four weeks before, hearing how lovely the mountain village was. A slice of heaven, was how she had heard the place described.

Looking in the mirror, she gave her long blonde hair another blow-out, hoping to instill just a little more body. Everyone had always complimented her on how lovely her hair was, however much of a pain in the ass it was to maintain. Izzy would be home soon, and she hoped that they would be able to leave shortly thereafter.

In contrast to her own blonde mane, Izzy’s hair had always been shorter. Lately, it had grown into a sort of bob, and Mary knew it was more of a time thing than any deliberate lack of maintenance. It’s chestnut brown color matched her olive complexion perfectly, and it had been one of the things that had attracted her to her lover.

Much to her chagrin, Mary was in between jobs, and although Isabella had always told her she didn’t need to work, she felt a little useless just playing the dutiful ‘housewife’.

It was by pure chance that she had been able to secure a three-night stay at the bed and breakfast. A cancellation had prompted a call and a quick change in plans. Of course, for her it was nothing, but for Izzy, it was a big deal. Mary knew she was in the middle of a huge case, so when she told Mary that they were on for the vacation, it was a huge relief.

It would be a four-hour drive into the mountains, and Mary entered the address and name of the place into her phone for directions. “Egging Lodge,” Mary said out loud. “I hope it’s as nice as the online brochure described.” She slipped the phone into her back pocket, just as the door to the garage opened.


Egging Lodge


Mary had driven the entire way, the Audi TTS a pleasure to drive up the winding mountain roads. Despite Mary’s constant dialog over how beautiful the scenery was, Isabella slept for most of the four-hour trip, waking only at Mary’s persistence, pointing out another breathtaking view. It was lovely, of that there was no doubt.

So, when they finally pulled into the small parking lot of the lodge, it was with some relief that they emerged from the comfortable but confined cockpit of the sportscar.

“Smell that air.” Mary expounded, as they stood and took their surroundings. Unlike city air, the slight breeze carried the scent of pines and a crisp clean fragrance that was difficult to nail down. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating.

The lodge sat directly on the shore of a long lake, rippled only slightly by the breeze, but not enough to prevent the reflection of the mountain crags rising up starkly at the far end of it.

“Look at that.” Izzy smiled, opening her arms as if to take the entire place inside herself. “Fantastic. Excellent choice, lover.”

Mary had extracted their bag from the rather abbreviated trunk of the Audi and had set it up on its wheels. “Let’s go check this place out.”

Izzy took the bag and hauled it up the five laid brick steps to the front door of the place, and rang the bell. The door opened nearly at once. They were confronted by a rather petite-looking girl, doe-eyed and seemingly subservient. That was not what struck the pair, however. Her head was completely devoid of hair. Not a single follicle was apparent, even her brows and lashes were absent, and Izzy immediately assumed alopecia to be the culprit.

“Good evening. My name is Sarah. You must be Isabella and Mary. Welcome to Egging Lodge.” She reached for the bag that Izzy clutched in her hand, and which she relinquished at the girl’s insistence. “Let me show you to your room.”

The pair followed the girl through the quaintly decorated house and up a wide flight of stairs to the center of a hallway. “Your room is the one on the end, there,” Sarah said, pulling the heavy bag behind her as Mary and Isabella followed.

“It’s lovely,” Mary exclaimed. “So much nicer than the photos.”

“Wait ‘til you see this.” So, just as had been done for her, Sarah opened the curtains at the end of the room, revealing the outstanding view of the lake and mountains. Mary and Izzy stood together at the window as Sarah retreated to the doorway. “You’re on your own for lunch and supper, but we hope you join us for breakfast. It is served at eight o’clock.”

“You have a lovely place, here,” Izzy said, turning to meet the young girl’s eyes.

“Oh, I’m just the maid,” Sarah admitted, her eyes falling to her feet. “The lodge is owned by Marsha and Gretchen. You’ll meet them at breakfast, if not sooner. They’re off hiking somewhere.” Sarah closed the door and headed back down the stairs to resume her duties.

“Izzy? Look at this.” Mary called out from the bathroom.




When Sarah returned to the world, after her vacation in the mountains, things just weren’t the same. With her newfound freedom, and having no intention of ever growing her hair again, she found the harsh reality of people’s opinions a little too much to bear.

Her sister, whom she assumed would be at least understanding, was the most ardent critic of all. She expressly forbade her children from seeing Sarah, much less allowing her to watch them as she had done for so long.

The final straw came when her position at the press was mysteriously eliminated. Strange that one of her underlings had communicated to her that she had been elevated to that same position a few days later.

Left with few options, Sarah packed up her meager belongings and made the trek to the only place where she knew she would be welcomed.

When Sarah had first shown up at the doorstep of Egging Lodge, Gretchen was more than a little surprised. Inviting her in, and seeing the desperate state of mind Sarah was in, she sat her down for a talk.

“So, the world was less than accommodating, wasn’t it?” Gretchen assumed.

“It was horrible. It was strange, feeling so good about something, so liberated, and have so many of the people I cared about shun me out of hand.” Sarah wiped a tear. “My own sister won’t have anything to do with me.”

“And then, you lost your position?” Gretchen continued.

“They said it was eliminated, but I have it on good authority that they simply replaced me.” Sarah seethed.

“Well, my dear girl. You may just be in luck. It so happens that Marsha and I are looking for a housekeeper; well, more of a maid to be honest.” Gretchen corrected. “It doesn’t pay well, but your room and board will be free, so the money you make is yours free and clear.” Gretchen looked out the window. “You won’t be able to keep your car, I’m afraid, not on your salary. But up here, you really don’t need one.”

Sarah finally spoke. “As long as I have a place to stay, that will be fine. And what happened before, that won’t…”

“We don’t need to speak of that again, unless you want to. Personally, I very much enjoyed our few days together, Sarah. As my employee, it might be a bit complicated, but, we can cross that bridge when we come to it. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

The rather spartan quarters were nothing like her room had been when she stayed there before. The small, almost claustrophobic space was only large enough for a single bed and a small dresser. A narrow window looking out on the neighbor’s yard was the only illumination.

“I know, it’s not much, but you will only be sleeping in here, so try not to dwell on it,” Gretchen said, a slightly dominant tone in her voice, suddenly.  “When you’re settled, you shall deal with the stubble that seems to be sprouting on your head.” Not an ounce of leeway being offered. Sarah would be bald, and not of her own choice, apparently.

Once all her things had been neatly stowed, and she shaved the short stubble that had so rudely grown across her pate and brows, Sarah donned the rather traditional maids’ uniform and met Gretchen in the main living space. “Ready.” Sarah sighed.

“I’m going to share something with you. Something that only the women of Marionet are aware of. It’s a secret, so there can be no speaking of it to outsiders. Understand?” Gretchen demanded.

“Yes. I understand.” Sarah followed her benefactor through the door of the lodge, and out into the street. They walked for a while before veering off onto a trail that seemed deliberately concealed. She had certainly never noticed it before, and she had been quite thorough in her explorations of the place.

The trail wound its way up through a series of escarpments, and finally into a cave. Sarah felt unease for the first time since her arrival, but it was soon allayed as the cave opened up into a meadow. There she saw that they were not alone. Three other women shared the space, and all were as bald and hairless as Gretchen.

They were naked, their clothes piled in what appeared to be a stone courtyard deliberately built at the center of the meadow.

“What is this place?” Sarah asked, meekly.

“It is… well, you shall see soon enough.” Gretchen began to remove her clothes, and at her bidding, Sarah followed suit. They placed them on the smoothly worn stones of the courtyard and moved together towards where the other women stood, busy applying something to their heads and bodies.

From the side of a cliff, a trickle of what appeared to be water seeped into a small basin, carved from the very rock. “This, Sarah, is the secret to which we all owe our hairless condition,” Gretchen explained, dipping her hand into the water, and allowing it trickle from her fingers, and over her head. “It doesn’t happen overnight, but after a few months you will find that you no longer need to shave.”

“What happens if I stop using the water from the spring?” Sarah asked, a logical question. Although no one of my knowing has ever stopped, it is said that your hair will eventually come back. I certainly hope you never need to find out.” Gretchen ran a dripping hand over Sarah’s head, spreading the elixir over the freshly shaved surface, its sweet acrid scent almost bewitching.

“I don’t intend to.” Captivated, Sarah dipped her hands into the basin, spreading the liquid liberally over herself.


Mary and Isabella


“What on earth is all this stuff?” Mary asked, one hand grasping her nearly waist-length blonde hair in reaction to what she was seeing.

“Um, those are clippers, and those are… razors, and…”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I know what they are, Izzy. What the hell are they doing in our bathroom?” Mary grabbed the cord to the clippers as though she might unplug them, but quickly realized that they were wired in. “Well, I’m going to go talk to that girl. Maybe she can move us to a different room.”

While Mary was off searching for Sarah, Isabella did a little more exploring discovering the hair donation bags and the hamper where the hair was to be deposited once gathered. It was an impressive setup, if one was interested in making a donation for the cause. She was a little puzzled by the cause, too. She’d heard of locks of love and all, but donating your hair to be used on oil spills was a new one on her.

“I don’t know where she got to. Sarah, was that her name?” Mary asked, exasperated.

“Yes, I think so. Listen, why can’t we just ignore this stuff. The room is really nice, and the view is second to none. It’s only a bathroom.” Izzy reasoned.

“It just freaks me out a little.” Mary sat on the edge of the bed, still holding her hair, as if the clippers might find their way to her, unaided.

“The owners probably just feel really strongly about the environment and all, you know. I wonder just how many of their guests take the plunge?”

“Nearly all.” A voice sounded from behind her, causing them both to spin. Gretchen had stepped through the open door, after having seen Mary wandering about below. “My name is Gretchen. I’m one of the owners.”

Again, they were both struck by her hairless condition, the same as Sarah. Now Izzy was convinced that it had nothing to do with alopecia. “Mary, my partner, was just freaking out a bit over the haircutting equipment in the bathroom. You have to admit, it’s not something you usually see in a B&B.”

“We are a unique establishment, and you will soon see that the village is as well. Feel free to use, or not to use the donation equipment in the bathroom, but I will say that you two would be the first not to make a donation, if that were to be the case.” Gretchen sighed.

“Well, there’s something to be said for being first.” Mary chimed in, finally loosening her grasp on her blonde mane.

Gretchen smiled, running a hand provocatively over her smooth pate. “You never know. You might like it if you try it.”

Izzy raised an eyebrow, although she had to admit to finding the display more than a little arousing. For a second, she imagined her gorgeous blonde lover, shorn to the skin. She wondered how that would feel under her fingertips as they made love. “We would hate to break with tradition, if that is what it is, but I’m fairly certain my lover is dead set against it.” Izzy pointed out.

“Ah, yes, but are you?” Gretchen inquired, slipping through the doorway and back down the stairs.

Mary hopped off the bed and closed the door rather abruptly. “What the hell was that all about?”

“How many times have you complained about what a pain in the ass, your hair is?” Izzy asked.

“Yeah, but, I’ve never even imagined shaving it off. I’ve given some thought to having it trimmed, or even cut, never shaved. Besides, I think you’d leave me if I ever decided to do something so rash.” Mary chided.

“Are you so sure about that?” Isabella caressed Mary’s hair, her fingertips running deep and against the scalp underneath. “Maybe it would be fun to have a bald lover.”

“Forget it, Izzy, unless you’re planning on joining me.” Mary challenged.

“Don’t make bargains you’re not willing to make good on, Mary. You may very well find yourself on the wrong end of those clippers in there.” Izzy chortled.


The Bald Women of Marionet


As Mary and Izzy made their way through the picturesque village that evening, they were struck by the number of women that seemed as bald and hair-free as their host and her employee. Was this some new trend that this place was starting, or was there a legitimate reason why so many of them were bald?

They sat together in the small Italian restaurant, looking out across the lake at the mountains, glowing red with the setting sun. The food was outstanding, and they felt obliged to walk it off afterward, finding their way down to the water’s edge.

“I cannot get over how many of the women here are bald. It’s a bit unnerving.” Mary said, Isabella a good ten feet ahead of her on the shore.

“Unnerving in that we’re the odd ones out?” Izzy suggested. “Back in Denver, we’d be the ones staring. I’d say the tables are turned, and I’m not objecting at all.”

“What are you saying?” Mary took her hand, pulling her down onto the grass, which was just getting damp with dew. “Tell me you’re not considering it.”

Isabella stared out over the lake, the surface bluish-black with the encroaching night. “I can’t tell you, because I am.” She confided.

“You are actually considering shaving your head… bald?” Mary asked, in disbelief. “What on earth would they say at the firm? You’re just getting ahead there, Isabella. Do you think they’d still take you seriously if you came to work on Monday, bald as a coot?”

Any time Mary used her full name, she knew she was treading on thin ice. Mary had a point, she knew. As tempting as it was, Izzy was painfully aware that she would be hard-pressed to make headway at the firm if she did anything the partners would consider ‘impulsive’. A woman shaving her head would most definitely be considered impulsive.

“You’re right, of course. You always are.” Izzy sighed, and Mary could sense the disappointment and resignation in her tone. “The partners would not understand.” Izzy stood, and began to walk back towards the main street, Mary quick to catch up.

“Do you really feel that strongly about it?” Mary asked.


Love, and the Things it Drives Us To Do


As Mary and Izzy made their way down to the dining room, they were still in turmoil over the events of the night before. Mary could sense a real conflict going on under Izzy’s skin, and it really bothered her.

“Good morning, you two.” An older woman stood at the entrance to the kitchen, again, one of Marionet’s many hairless females. “You’ve already met Gretchen, I’m Marsha. Are you enjoying your stay?”

“Yes, very much,” Izzy said, smiling, but it failed to reach her eyes. Sarah appeared in the opposite doorway carrying a tray of food, which she set at the center of the table. The meal looked wonderful, and tasted even better.

The four women had an interesting conversation, mostly concerning the village and touching uncomfortably on the subject of its many hairless women. Uncomfortable, at least for Izzy.

“Sarah doesn’t eat with you?” Izzy asked, noticing her absence.

“She eats with us privately, but not with our guests. As a maid, it wouldn’t be considered appropriate.”

“Maid?” Mary inquired. “Isn’t that a bit…”

“When she first started with us, we toyed with the idea of referring to her as our housekeeper, but after a short time, it was she who insisted on being called ‘the maid’. She seems to enjoy the condescension.

Mary looked over at Izzy, their eyes popping with that admission, wondering just what sort of strange place they’d fallen into. It was Mary who seemed the most uncomfortable with the idea.

However, it was also Mary who seemed the most moved. She had no idea why she was so aroused by the notion of being a maid. Mary knew, at some base level, that she was submissive. She had never admitted to anything of the sort, but seeing Sarah brought out that feeling within her, and for a few moments she imagined being in her place.

Later in the day, Izzy had gone on a hike with Gretchen. It was going to be a bit of a climb, so Mary opted out, preferring to read on the deck that hung precipitously over the lake.

“Can I get you anything?” Sarah asked. She seemed to appear and disappear at will, and Mary wondered how. Were there servant’s passages in the place?

“I’d love something cold to drink,” Mary admitted, casting an admiring eye on the pretty young girl. She was attractive in spite of her lack of hair, and for a moment Mary wondered if she might ever be able to pull off the look.

“There’s fresh iced tea, if you’d like.” Sarah offered.

“That would be wonderful.” Mary was unable to get back into her book, so she placed it open on the small table beside her. When Sarah returned, she carried a tray, her iced tea, and an assortment of cookies upon it.

“Is there anything else, Ma’am?” Sarah’s eyes fell to her feet as Mary turned to look at her.

“Actually, would you mind terribly if we talked for a few minutes?” Mary asked, tentatively.

“I’m really not supposed…”

“It would mean a great deal to me if you did. Please.” Mary almost begged.

Reluctantly, Sarah sat beside Mary on an adjacent chair, looking about for Marsha. ‘They must keep her on a short leash’, Mary thought.

“Do you like it here?” Mary started.

“Oh, very much. This place changed my life.” Sarah admitted.

“Really? Can you tell me about it?” Mary pressed.

Sarah was obviously a little uncomfortable, but went on to answer. “I first came here, just as you have. As a guest. I made the donation, and was glad about it, even though I never thought I would. I never felt more free. The world had very different ideas though. I lost my family, my job, and one thing led to another and I ended up back here.” Sarah sighed.

“How did it feel, shaving your head, I mean?” Mary asked.

“It was wonderfully erotic. Are you thinking of making a donation?” Sarah asked, curious.

“Isabella, my lover, she can’t because of her job, but she really wants to. I thought I would do it for her. I’m not crazy about losing all this,” Mary ran her fingers down the length of her luscious hair. “but if it makes Izzy happy, I want to do it.”

“You’ll never grow it back, trust me on that.” Sarah sighed. “You’ll get addicted to the feel, to the freedom of being bald.”

“I can believe you. You don’t look like you shave at all. How do you…”

“I have to go. I think I hear Marsha.” Sarah popped up as if she’d sat on a pin and scurried off the deck and into the house, leaving Mary to wonder what she had done.

Mary’s phone pinged, and there was a picture of Izzy and Gretchen on top of a mountain, the lake and the village some distance below them. It was beautiful, but she was relieved she had decided not to go with them.

A slight breeze blew in off the lake just then, and Mary retreated to their room. She laid her book on the nightstand, the quiet of the place almost deafening, suddenly. The light was on in the bathroom, so she instinctively went to shut it off.

As soon as she had entered though, a wave of arousal coursed through her. There she was, in the presence of everything she needed. The clippers hung, lifeless in their cradle, seeming to call out to her. The thought of wielding them sent electric waves through her sex, and she was powerless to stop herself.

Lifting the heavy machine from its home, she examined them. How could something so benign-looking, wield such power over her. She touched the toggle at the base, and the clippers whirred to life. Startled, she switched them off just as quickly. ‘Was she really going to do this?’

         Izzy was still up on the mountain, and there was plenty of time, she reasoned. ‘Plenty of time to do what?’ Mary stared at her reflection in the gilded mirror, her long blonde hair falling as it always did. Without any more thought, but plenty of emotion, she began to strip out of her clothes. As if putting off the inevitable, she folded them neatly and placed them on the bed.

Returning, as if on a string, she once again faced herself in the mirror. Without even realizing, Mary had lifted the clippers from their perch, holding them vertically so the blades rested between her pendulous breasts. They were on, but she didn’t remember doing it, their vibration sending ripples of pleasure through her torso and directly to her clitoris, which seemed to vibrate with the same intensity as the machine.

Tiny beads of perspiration clung to her forehead as she raised the blades to her hairline. “This is it.” Mary said, her words quavering, but the clippers had already moved. Long silken strands of blonde hair cascaded to the floor, slipping over her naked body and caressing her bare feet.

She stopped for a moment, leaning in to examine the trail of bare scalp the clippers had left in their wake. Mary’s free hand flew up to understand the gravity of what had just occurred. The sandpaper stubble was invisible to the eye, her hair being so light, but the coarseness of it cried out for a razor. “Soon enough.”

Soon a second path widened the swath of bald scalp, then a third, and a fourth, until the entirety of her crown was bare. She chuckled at the look of it, but that was the beginning of the frantic part. The part Sarah remembered so well as she watched covertly from the corner of the bedroom.

The clippers seemed to take on a life of their own as they made pass after pass over Mary’s head, this way and that, up, down, side to side all in a race to know the truth beneath it all. And the truth was revealed.

Visibly bald, Mary carefully set the clippers back into their cradle, a literal sea of blonde surrounding her at her feet. Sarah wanted to help, but Mary was not alone as she had been. She slipped through the door and headed for her tiny room to take care of the nagging ache between her legs.

It took a few moments for Mary to come around, but she did. The reality of what she had done began to sink in, but she was not sorry she had done it. Pulling a donation bag from the dispenser, she slowly and methodically gathered her hair from the floor and stuffed it unceremoniously into the bag. By the end, it was stuffed to bursting.

She considered simply dropping it into the hamper, but had a thought, suddenly. She placed the large plastic bag at the center of their bed, the text clearly visible, and dressed herself.

Mary suddenly felt right at home as she walked down the main street. Women smiled as she passed, and she began to understand the freedom Sarah had spoken of. The breeze now felt strangely exotic against her naked scalp, and she seemed unable to keep her fingers away from it.

Each shop she passed was another opportunity to glance at her reflection in the plate-glass windows. It was as though she belonged there. She could certainly understand why Sarah had told her that she would never grow it back. At that moment, Mary understood.


Isabella, Shock and Acceptance


Gretchen left Izzy at the base of the stairs, saying that she had something to check on. The hike up the mountain was everything she thought it would be, and aside from Gretchen’s occasional flirting, she got along wonderfully with their host. “Things are certainly different up here.” Izzy mouthed as she reached the top of the stairs.

Their door was locked, and she had to fish in her pocket for the key. She figured Mary must have gone out exploring, and why not. Isabella unloaded her backpack onto the small suitcase rack at the side of the entryway, not noticing the package that lay waiting for her on the bed.

She slipped into the bathroom and relieved herself, something she had needed to do since about halfway down the mountain. At that point, something caught her eye. From her vantage point on the commode, Izzy spied a long silky strand of hair pressed into the grout at the edge of the tile floor. It was only a few hairs, but the color was so similar to Mary’s. Perhaps the hair was missed and had been there the whole time. That was it, she thought.

Her theory was blown to bits, however, when she emerged and saw the plastic bag lying at the center of their queen-sized bed. There was no mistaking what it was, and who it had belonged to. “Mary?” She turned, knowing that she was out there, probably freaking out. “Oh my god. Mary!”

Izzy dashed out of the room, the door left ajar. She hopped into the Audi and backed out of the driveway so violently that she managed to be chided by no less than three people within earshot.

She slowly drove down the street, realizing what an ass she’d been. Now, Mary was going to be incredibly difficult to spot. More than half of the women she saw were bald, and she knew that Mary was now one of them. How was she going to find her?

Izzy had almost reached the other end of town when a voice called out to her from the sidewalk. Squinting into the setting sun, she saw a tall woman walking towards her, the sun reflecting off her bald head.

“Looking for me?” Mary asked, leaning into the car to give her lover a kiss.

“What on earth, Mary! I thought you…”

“For you, my love. I did it for you.” Mary opened the passenger door and climbed inside.

Izzy couldn’t stop staring at Mary’s stark new appearance. She looked so different, so sleek, and so damned sexy. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Izzy sighed.

“I wanted to please you. I knew how much you wanted to do it, and how ostracized you would have been had you done it.” Mary explained.

“But your beautiful hair.” Izzy pouted. “Are you sure you’re okay with it?”

“More than okay. Yes, I did this for you, but I’m now realizing that it was something I had wanted ever since we got here. I was just too stubborn to admit it.”

“What about Monday? Your friends, your mother?” Izzy grimaced.

“They’re just going to have to get used to it, because I think I’m staying like this for the foreseeable future. It just feels too damned good. Are you okay with that?” Mary asked, rubbing her head provocatively.

“Okay with it? Hell, I’ll even shave it for you.” Izzy admitted, eagerly.

“Oh, and speaking of shaving, you need to finish me up when we get back to the Lodge.”

Izzy reached over and caressed Mary’s head for the first time, feeling the sandpapery stubble that remained. The small shape of her lover’s head in her hand caused her clit to throb in time with her racing heart, and she knew this was going to be a night they would never forget.

2 responses to “Bald and Breakfast II

  1. I really, really like this follow-up, and love that you added — at least in my interpretation — a sense that these women may not be acting completely of their own free will (just something I gathered from Sarah’s situation). And I love the aspect of possibly surrendering their hair for good, since none of them know whether it’ll actually grow back for sure after using the water.

    Really well done follow up!

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