New Game, New Rules.
A Change of the Rules, Part Two
Apart from the sympathy of the other girls in the cabin, I received no other compensation for the way in which my hair had been shaved off by the camp barber. Even though the experience itself was wildly arousing, the fact remained that in two weeks’ time, I was going to have to return to the real world with no hair. That was just reality.
What once was covered in a luxurious mane of red curls, was now nothing but a stubbled skull with a face attached. I was certain that I was hideous and avoided the mirror at all costs. Even though Ms. Burns insisted that I was cute with my shorn head, I couldn’t have disagreed more vehemently.
Things between Ms. Burns and I had heated up even more, if that was even possible, and I was left with the notion that perhaps I was a lesbian after all. Suddenly, sex with boys seemed gross and unappealing, and that pretty much sealed it for my heterosexual life.
Ms. Burns, my ex-nemesis from my earlier years at the camp, who I previously knew as Natalie, had pretty much taken over my life. She was now the counselor, and I was a mere camper, even though we were both the same age. Aside from the military-style rules that everyone now had to go by, Ms. Burns had her own set of rules that I had to follow explicitly.
She had taken care of the obvious problem of my living in a cabin with eight other girls by informing Ms. Ashland that I was caught masturbating in my bunk. She had me moved into her private cabin so that she could ‘keep an eye on my issue’. Needless to say, I was not unhappy about the new sleeping arrangements.
My third night in camp was the first night that I was being punished, being directly supervised by Ms. Burns. Obviously, Ms. Ashland hadn’t a clue about Natalie Burns.
“I want you out of those clothes into the shower this instant, little Tina.” She demanded.
Ms. Burns had begun calling me ‘little Tina’ when she had indeed caught me masturbating in my bunk. That much about the story she gave to Ms. Ashland was the truth. Of course, she didn’t elaborate on what happened after she caught me.
“Yes, Ms. Burns.” I cowered, quickly shedding my shorts and T-shirt and slipping into the bath ahead of her, earning me a slap on my bare bottom. One of my ‘new rules’ was that I was not allowed any underwear. I was forced to cut up everything I brought with me and hand the remnants over to her. It was demeaning, but not nearly as humiliating as the haircut had been. Once in the small bathroom, I noticed the clippers sitting on the back of the toilet.
“I told you I knew where she kept them.” Ms. Burns insisted, lifting the evil contraption out of its case. “We mustn’t let this mop get out of control again.” This was another one of her rules. On-demand haircuts, to be administered by her, of course.
It had only been two days since my shearing, where my beautiful red hair had been taken in front of the entire camp. It was an experience I doubt I will ever forget. Feeling my head, I couldn’t feel any difference in the length of my hair. It was still the shortest of stubble.
“Sit, on the toilet.” Ms. Burns directed, plugging the clippers into the available socket next to the sink. “I wonder which attachment the barber used?”
I looked behind me, noticing four metal attachments that seemed to snap onto the body of the clippers, labeled 0,1,2, and 4. For whatever reason, I wondered what happened to number three. “I don’t remember, Ms. Burns. It was kind of a blur.”
“I remember.” She smirked. “Well, of the four, which one do you think you deserve, little Tina.” I scanned the blades again, almost afraid to pick.
“I guess, zero.” Knowing that that would be the answer she might expect from one so low as me.
“You guess, or you know, silly. Are you a four, a two, a one, or a zero, little Tina?”
“I’m a zero, Ms. Burns,” I answered confidently.
“Good. I think you’re a big fat zero too, of course.” She chided, rubbing her hand over my head. “Remember, that this is the one you picked, and the one we’ll be using every time I cut your hair.”
“Yes, Ms. Burns.” I watched as she brought the blade to the front of the clippers. It seemed to be magnetized and snapped immediately into place. The high-pitched whine sent a chill through my naked body, the sound all too fresh in my memory.
“Okay, here we go.” Ms. Burns began to run the clippers over the top of my head, first, and judging by the short but plentiful tufts of hair that were cascading off my scalp, I knew that I had chosen poorly. I looked up at her face as she worked, the smile indicative of her dominance over me. Sitting on the toilet, I couldn’t see what was happening, and I dreaded looking in the mirror when she had finished.
She seemed as though she knew what she was doing, and had finished the job in a matter of a minute, the clippers finding their place back in the case. I could feel her hands as they ran over the surface of my scalp, and it felt entirely different, better, more sensitive. I tried to reach up for myself, but her hand prevented it.
“Not yet, little Tina. You have to see this before you feel it.” She helped me stand in the confined space and demanded I close my eyes. “No peeking.”
I scrunched my eyes closed so she knew I was obeying. Once I was turned around, she giggled. “Open your eyes, little one.”
What I thought was shaved before was obviously not even close. The zero blades had taken my already stubbled hair down to absolutely nothing. My eyes grew wider as I searched for any trace of red, any hint that I once had hair at all. There was none. I was completely bald.
Now that I was coming to terms with how it looked, Ms. Burns allowed me to experience how it felt. It wasn’t completely smooth as my fingers explored my scalp, but almost.
As if having a revelation, Ms. Burns disappeared into the bedroom, leaving me alone with my baldness. “We have to finish the job, little Tina.” She insisted.
“What do you mean, finish? It looks pretty done to me.” I complained, which brought a sharp slap across my cheek.
“Who am I, little one?” She scolded.
“Ms. Burns, I’m sorry, I just…”
“Never mind. If you come out of my cabin like that in the morning, Ms. Ashland will know I stole the clippers from her office. We have to shave you, so it looks like you did it yourself.” She tried to explain.
She laid out a couple of razors and a can of ladies’ gel shaving cream. I looked down, as if things couldn’t get any more ridiculous, she was going to shave me smooth, like baby smooth. The more I considered the idea, however, the more it seemed acceptable to me. Hell, I already looked bald, I might as well feel bald and enjoy the sensation of it. I sat back down on the toilet and allowed Ms. Burns to cover my scalp with the shaving gel, whipping it into a blueish white lather.
It was rough going at first, the blade not doing a very good job. When she began to take shorter strokes, it started to go easier. As she shaved, it almost felt like my scalp was getting tighter, a very strange feeling. It took a lot longer to shave my head than to clip it, but when she was done, Ms. Burns was pleased with the result.
She had me put my head under the faucet and allowed cool water to run over my head. She sloshed the water over its slippery surface, making a sort of squeaking sound as her fingers rubbed over my scalp. The sensation was out of this world.
“Do you like how that feels, little Tina, ‘cause I sure do.” She reached down and guided my hand to my head. An electric shiver ran down my spine as I felt its glassy smooth surface for the first time.
“God, that’s wonderful, Ms. Burns.” I spluttered, the water still dripping around onto my face. Once again, I could feel myself growing more and more excited, the slippery surface like one huge erogenous zone.
“One more thing, little Tina, before we adjourn to my bedroom.” She tugged roughly at my pubic hair. “This has to go.”
It had been one of her rules, ‘no body hair whatsoever’. She handed me one of the razors and pointed to the shower.
“You wash up, little Tina, and I don’t want to find hair one on that body of yours. Is that understood?” She ordered, sternly.
“Yes, Ms. Burns, not a one.” She disappeared with the clippers in hand, assumedly, to return them to Ms. Ashland’s office.
The water felt amazing as it cascaded down onto my newly shaved head, and I forgot why I was in there for a minute. I started with my armpits, which I knew needed attention, working my way down to the fine peach fuzz that ran from my navel to the top of my thick red mound. I had always wondered why my pubes had been so much brighter than the hair on my head. They almost seemed the color of a carrot as I slowly and deliberately ran the razor into them.
Of course, I was wonderfully turned on as I watched the last vestige of any hair disappear down the drain. Small little tufts of orange circled in the water, disappearing forever into the void. It took a little while, but when I was satisfied that all had been removed, I shut off the water.
“Hurry up, little one. I’ve been waiting.” Ms. Burns called from the bedroom as I quickly dried myself.
I looked down at my pussy, amused by the prepubescent appearance. The fact that my inner labia were completely hidden by my puffy outer lips, only added to that illusion. I wondered what Ms. Burns might think of the look.
“Let me get a look at you.” She insisted, indicating the side of the bed where she was lounging, fully clothed. “God, you look positively infantile.” She chortled, flipping my clam-like pussy with her finger. “Oh, that’s perfect.”
She ran her hands carefully over my body, pleased that I had been so thorough in my attention with the razor.
“Not a hair, Ms. Burns.” I sighed, as she slipped a finger through the tight seal of my lips.
“You did well, little Tina, but I’m afraid you failed.” Ms. Burns said, feigning disappointment.
“I said you failed, so you failed.” She chided my rebuttal. “You see.” She reached up running a finger over my eyebrows, pointing out my error.
“Oh… oh. My eyebrows, Ms. Burns?” I asked, sadly.
“Yes, I do believe they are made of hair, little one.” She mused. “Never mind. You can keep them, for now. I just wanted to point out that you failed in your task. And what happens when a child fails to do something they are supposed to do?”
The fact that she was now referring to me as a child, sent waves of humiliation through me, and they landed right between my legs. Of course, I certainly looked like a child now, especially down there. I gave her the answer I knew she wanted. “They get punished, Ms. Burns.”
“Yes. that is correct, little Tina. Now I want you to undress me.” She indicated with a wave of her hand.
“Yes, Ms. Burns.” I squeaked, trying not to let my excitement show, and I was very, very excited. I first slipped off her sneakers, which she wore without socks, the strong scent of them catching me off guard. It did not go unnoticed. Next was her shirt and bra, and finally her shorts. It was really the first time I had seen my lovely Ms. Burns without clothes, and I was awestruck.
Sitting up on the edge of the bed, she reached into a side table. “I want you to kneel and brush my hair, little Tina.” I took the brush from her hands and beginning a the ends, slowly brushed her exquisite blonde tresses. The feeling of humiliation was almost unfathomable. There I was, without a single hair on my being, seeing to the hair of my absolute better. The debasement was so severe that it nearly brought me to tears. “It’s lovely, isn’t it, little Tina?”
“Yes, Ms. Burns, you have beautiful hair. I have always thought so.” I managed.
“I think it is far more beautiful than yours ever was. Wouldn’t you agree?” She pressed, knowing how the task was affecting me.
“Yes, Ms. Burns, your hair is far nicer than mine ever was.” It killed me to say it, but the thing was, I actually believed it, as well. All the abject humiliation was causing my pussy to leak down my legs. I could smell it, and if I could, I knew that Ms. Burns could too.
“Was, being the operative phrase, here, isn’t it, little Tina?” She pointed out, intuitively. “You see, I don’t think you will ever want hair again. You love being bald, don’t you, my little Tina?”
“Yes, Ms. Burns, I love being your bald little slave.” My mind jolted to attention at the use of the word, and how I had used it so freely. I had said it, and now it was out there.
“My slave. Well, I do like the sound of that, little… slave.” She asserted. “Do you want to be my slave?” She asked, as if confirming what I had said wasn’t a slip of the tongue, or the mind.
I was kneeling before her, my mind in complete turmoil, and my arousal peaked beyond all physical boundaries. “I am your slave, Mistress.” So, there it was.
“Oh, this is so much better than I had ever imagined, slave.” She swung around, placing her legs over my shoulders as I knelt. “You’re making me so excited.”
I looked between her legs, her well-manicured bush was glistening with her juices. Everything in my being was telling me to lean forward, if only just to sniff at the heavenly place.
“I can see how eager you are, little slave. First, you must be punished.” All the joy had run away from her face.
I had completely forgotten, but nodded in agreement with her assessment. “Yes, Mistress.”
She leaned back on her arms, and lifted her leg, bringing her foot to my lips. “Kiss it, slave. Show your obedience.” She sighed.
I absolutely hated feet. It was never something that I had ever even considered and the idea of it almost made me gag. My nostrils were filled with the strong scent and it was all I could do to purse my lips and kiss the ball of her foot.
“That was a very poor kiss, slave. Try again.” She pressed the sole into my face, so that her toes rested on my offending eyebrows. “Get it right, and maybe I’ll let you keep your brows after all.”
Forcing myself, I opened my mouth and allowed my tongue to bathe the bottom of her foot. Fortunately, it didn’t taste anything like it smelled, and I was able to overcome the scent, and continue worshipping her foot with my tongue. Not surprisingly, the incredibly demeaning act only served to feed my arousal. I was almost annoyed that something that had always been so abhorrent to me, was now turning me on.
After I had done the same for her other foot, she finally allowed me to come up for air. I think she could sense the incredible feeling of defeat I was experiencing in that moment. She was not going to let it go to waste. She had me in the basement, as low as I could possibly sink, but the evil glint in her eye said that she was going to push me farther.
“Nope! Changed my mind.” She chirped, acerbically. She dragged me back into the bathroom. Before I even knew what was happening, she had whisked the razor over my forehead, removing my brows in a matter of seconds. “Now, isn’t that better, slave?”
Mistress held my face in the mirror, a hand on each cheek to my mouth puckered open. Without my eyebrows, I looked like an alien. My large green eyes, the only color in a sea of white. My inability to say anything at all must have told her that she had pushed me as far as she dared that night.
“Come on, little slave. That’s enough.” She coddled, pulling me into her arms so that my naked head pressed into her ample breasts.
It was impossible to stop the tears now, in spite of my arousal. The entire night had been about taking more and more away from me and I had finally reached my limit.
Mistress guided me back to her bed and laid me down, gently. “There, there, my little slave. You have done so well. Let me please you, now.” She worked her way down my front, kissing my mouth, each of my nipples, and trailing down to my hairless pussy, where she finally settled. She pressed with her arms, so that my legs opened for her, revealing my freshly shaven folds. Slowly, and haltingly, she allowed her mouth to envelop my sex, her tongue finding my clitoris almost immediately.
The tears quickly stopped, replaced by wave upon wave of sensations. No one had ever gone down on me before, and I was astounded by what I had been missing. Mistress seemed to know exactly when I was about to come, and eased off, beginning the cycle all over again. I lost count, the number of times she brought me to the edge, only to allow me to slip away from that precipitous peak.
At last, when she could see that I was almost at wit’s end, she attacked, taking my clitoris between her teeth and driving her tongue around it. The edge came and went, and I was flying through the air, one unbelievable orgasm after the next. I finally had to stop her, running my hand through her lovely blonde hair. “You’re going to kill me, Mistress.”
My heart was pounding, and my breath came in short gasps, as I slowly came back down to earth. When I finally opened my eyes, they were met by her brilliant blue ones.
“Now it is my turn to please you, Mistress.” I insisted, trying to get up.
“Not tonight, my slave. I have already asked too much of you. Sleep now. Tomorrow will be another day, and another challenge.” She cooed.
As I slowly slipped into oblivion, all the sacrifices that I had made seemed to meld into one. They were in devotion to Natalie, my Mistress, and that thought carried me under.