I Think That, In The End, This Is What I Wanted

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It was a small party. Just me and five of my friends. Well, I thought that they were my friends.

My ex-boyfriend was the one who suggested hypnosis. He took a course during quarantine. I’ve never been able to be hypnotized. He knows this. His niece’s 5th birthday featured a hypnotist. I’m surprised that he let me be his first volunteer. I decided to freak him out and pretend to fall over his spell, growing sleepier and sleepier as he waved his stupid pocket watch in front of me.

Except he wasn’t freaked out. Not at all. In fact, he seemed thrilled to have me under his control. “Get naked,” he said, eager to exploit my vulnerable state.

Not wanting to spoil the joke too soon, I got naked. He pinched my nipples like he used to when we dated. Then he invite the others to pinch my nipples. They hesitated, but, spurred on by my ex, who called them chicken for not trying, they took turns. I managed to keep my face still. Then they decided to take turns spanking me. With a rubber spoon. Both my asscheeks were bright red and tears were streaming down my face when they finished. Still I managed to convince them that I was hypnotized. I think.

Giggling, one of the women suggested that they shave my head while I was under. I had beautiful hair. It was chestnut brown and reached my waist. The others found it hilarious as well. They said that I was so vain and boastful about it. They said that it would be funny to see me wake up and realize that it was all gone. I almost stopped my charade. They’re not wrong about my attachment to my hair. I really did love it. But, then, realizing that my pussy was leaking, probably from the unrestrained touching and unrestrained expression by my friends, I decided to see how far they would go. Would they really shave my head? Would they be that cruel? And would I let them?

I let them sit me down on a little wooden stool. It hurt to sit due to the spanking. My ex fetched a pair of big fabric scissors and a garbage can. He took the the first chop and let it fall into the garbage can. Then everyone else took a turn. The garbage can soon filled with my hair, and, I let them do it.

Keeping my face still, I thought, my pussy absolutely gushing, they’re actually taking my hair. It was so exciting that I didn’t dare stop them.

My ex then fetched a pair of clippers and various other objects from the bathroom. He noticed my wetness.

In my ear, he whispered, “Should have done this while we dated, bitch.”

Then he turned on the clippers. They deafened me as they mowed through what was left of my hair. I soon had the buzzcut of a military recruit. That wasn’t enough for my ex. He lathered up my scalp with a thick layer of shaving cream that smelled like raspberries and used a safety razor to shave me smooth. When he toweled off my head, he snapped his fingers to “bring me out of my trance”.

I immediately felt my head. Aroused by my newly exposed scalp, I almost forgot my charade. Annoyed by my ex’s knowing smile, I started cursing them out for shaving me, though my heart wasn’t really into it. My ex laughed. Then he got a Sharpie and wrote something on my forehead. He then forced me to look in the mirror.

I moaned and read the words aloud. “Party Slave…”

“Yes,” he said, kissing my neck, “let’s begin.”

In the morning, my ex bathed me, scrubbing off what was written on my forehead and all the things that happened to me the previous night. He, however, wasn’t going to allow me hair. He lathered up my scalp again and reshaved it. Then he even shaved off my eyebrows.

Showing me my new reflection, a blank canvas of a face, he told me, “I think, that in the end, this is what you wanted.”

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