My Treatment At The Facility

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My husband was the one who signed me up for treatment At The Facility. He said that it would be the thing to save our marriage after I cheated with his best friend.

When I arrived at The Facility, they took my clothing. I watched them lock away everything in a locker with my name on it. Then they marched me through the hallways to their Intake Room naked. It seemed like everyone was staring at me. The Orderly slapped away my hands when I tried to cover my nakedness.

“Who said that you’re allowed modesty, slut?” he asked cruelly.

Distracted, I didn’t answer him. We had arrived at the Intake Room by then. Then was a gynecologist chair in the center of the room. With straps. That’s what distracted me. The Orderly strapped me in. Then he stoked my bush. It was full and blonde just like the curls on my head. Beautiful curls that bounced over my shoulders.

“For your stay here, you will not have a name,” he said, still stoking my bush like it was a little animal that needed some reassurance, “You will be referred to as patient #0124.”

Then he got a pair of small black clippers. Tears ran down my face as he used them to mow off my bush. I should have saved those tears, however, for when he put down the small clippers and picked up all the large ones to use on my head. My poor curls didn’t stand a chance against them. They soon littered the floor.

Rubbing my buzzed head, he said, “Vanity is another thing that we don’t allow, #0124. Why the tears? Is it because you look like shit without those pretty curls? Well, keep crying because you’re about to get a little uglier.”

Then he covered my vagina with cheap smelling shaving cream that stung a little and used a safety razor to shave it smooth. Then he lathered up my head and used the same razor to shave that as well. And, as punishment for crying, he shaved off my eyebrows. As a final touch, he stamped “#0124” on my forehead in bold black ink.

“You may look ugly right now,” said the Orderly, taking off his pants and revealing his massive hard cock, “but that’s what I like.”

After he had his fill, he unstrapped me and hosed me off like an animal. Then he brought me into the next room where an elegant woman in a long white coat waited. She introduced herself as the Doctor, and then had the Orderly strap me down on a cold metal table. Caressing my newly shaved pussy and fingering my exposed clit, she read the list of my husband’s requests for my course of Treatment. I shuddered as she went down through every item of torture and humiliation to be visited to my body over the course the next couple of days. He wanted me reborn by this experience.

She took a syringe and injected into my clit. Then she started fingering my clit again. This time, her attentions caused my body to twitch in ecstasy.

“Isn’t that nice, patient #0124?” she cooed, “It will make some of our other modifications easier to stomach.”

When my husband picked me up a week later, I wasn’t his beautiful well-dressed wife with a clever tongue and a head full of golden curls. I was an ugly hairless woman dressed in ugly gray sweats and white Crocs. My mind lobotomized, I just smiled as he thanked the Staff for caring for so well.

Dancing his fingers across my bald head, he said, “Thank God for electrolysis. I didn’t want to have to shave this bitch daily. Too much work. I just want to enjoy the sight of her, bald and submissive, sucking my cock and not cheating on me. I can’t wait to see the piercing work that you’ve done to her.”

I just smiled lovingly at him.

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