The acridly sweet taste was thick on Kelly’s tongue, as she struggled to regain consciousness. The persistent black haze was difficult to fight, and although she remembered being held down, she had no recollection of anything after that.
‘Why had she been so stupid?’ She asked herself, although she could not have been sure if she had stated it out loud. Every extremity buzzed and her lips were numb, and a slight awareness of her surroundings began to occur. Then, as if a curtain was being raised, the room became clear around her.
Kelly knew she was no longer in the barbershop, but her hand flew to her head, finding her shoulder-length hair still very much intact. As she tried to sit up, she realized that there was some sort of restraint around her middle. In fact, there were several bands that seemed to fasten her to whatever surface she was laying on.
The room she was in had a clinical appearance, and the distinct odor of alcohol was pervasive, now that the sweet citrus scent was fading from her nostrils. Her lips and nose felt raw, as if they had been burnt, and Kelly figured it was from whatever agent they had used to sedate her.
As hard as she tried, she was unable to unfasten any of the straps which held her. There were several machines in the room with her, but she wasn’t connected to any of them. As far as she could tell, she was alone.
Kelly had no idea how long she had laid there, before an older man entered the room.
“Good afternoon.” He said, as if nothing was out of sorts. “My name is Dr. Ashford. You are Kelly Felton?” He asked, although it was obvious they already knew who she was.
“What is going on?” Kelly demanded. “Why am I here?” More angry than tearful.
“Well, surely you received our email, Ms. Felton. We simply decided for you. Your compensation has already been forwarded to your bank account, so all we need is a signature, and we can begin.” The doctor said, matter-of-factly.
“I’m not signing anything!” Kelly shouted. “Let me go, right now!”
“Well, you see Ms. Felton, having taken possession of her purse, we can not only deposit money to your accounts, but we can easily lift your signature from any number of documents in your wallet.” He smirked. “So, why don’t you simply comply, and make things easier for everyone concerned.”
“What are you going to do to me?” Kelly demanded, still furious.
“I thought that was all laid out in the email. You really have to be more observant, Kelly.” The doctor held out a rather thickly packed clipboard. “One last chance, Ms. Felton.” She turned her head away, defying his request. “No? Very well. I’ll just hand this off to my assistant, who is marvelously good at forgery.” A wiry young woman stepped from behind him, gingerly taking the papers, and without too much effort, signed them.
“You can’t do that!” Kelly seethed.
“Oh, but have, Ms. Felton. Have a look.” Doctor Ashford held the clipboard down so Kelly could see the signature now gracing the bottom of the form. Her heart sank as she realized that there wasn’t a person on earth that could fault that signature. It was hers, to the stroke.
“I’m sorry you have chosen to be uncooperative. In any event, you are now a member of test group 645 and as such, we can move you to the appropriate area so your intake can begin.” And with that, he was gone.
Kelly was once again alone in the room, a little bewildered over what had just happened. She remembered the text in the email, and how it spoke of hair removal. She prayed that she would be spared any of that. Perhaps she would be in a different test group.
A few minutes later, the doors swung open and two rather disheveled looking men entered. “This one goes to block 32. I’ll show you where that is.” He said to his partner, who was obviously new. “Oh, you’re in for a treat, sweetie.” The man said, as he tugged on her blonde tresses, hanging like so much silk over the edge of the gurney.
Kelly lay flat at the insistence of the man, who kept forcing her down each time she would try and see where they were going. The lighting changed from a bright white to a subdued green as they arrived at their destination. The bottom of the cart pushed through some swinging doors, and into a small empty room.
“That’s that.” The man told his apprentice. “You just leave them here for the prep team.” The man slipped his hand into his pocket and reached out towards Kelly’s head. She heard the sickening sound of scissors crunching through her hair, and quickly turned, eyeing the man intently. “Just a souvenir.” He shrugged, and then disappeared back through the doors.
Kelly was again left to wait, anticipating her fate for what must have been an hour or more. Finally, an older man was at the head of the bed. “Kelly Felton, 5679955.” He stated, for no one in particular, reading off a clipboard. With a grunt, he pushed the gurney forward, and into an adjacent room, that was anything but empty. Four men immediately surrounded her, glaring down at her.
“Alright. Phase one.” One of the men called out, with a strange disinterest. To Kelly’s shock, they systematically began cutting away her clothes. She felt so violated as the cold metal of the shears slipped beneath her jeans, and then her blouse, destroying them and anything else she was wearing. It all went into what appeared to be a large trash chute.
Still strapped to the table, but completely naked, Kelly struggled against her bonds, trying to cover her sex at the same time. The men seemed uninterested in her struggles. For that matter, they seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she was totally naked before them.
She had always considered herself a fairly attractive woman, and to be so ignored while she was so explicitly exposed, seemed degrading to her.
“Okay, um, phase two.” The man said, again, with an almost trance-like disinterest. This was the part that Kelly had been dreading the most. She saw the four of them approach her with unguarded clippers, each seemingly responsible for a different part of her anatomy.
Kelly wailed as the clippers ran unceremoniously through her lovely blonde locks, and the cold of the clinically sterile room pressed shockingly against her bare scalp. At the same time, she felt her legs being spread open and the vibration of another set of clippers attacking her pubic hair.
As annoying as it seemed to her, she was unable to prevent herself from growing aroused. As the man pulled on her labia, inserting fingers into her vagina, and then pulling outward, she couldn’t help but thrust her hips upward. “This is so humiliating.” She sighed aloud. But the men ignored her plea, continuing with their task, until she had been shaved to mere stubble.
They stepped away for a moment, and her hands flew up to run the surface of her scalp. So foreign, and so ridiculously arousing was the bristled surface of her exposed skull, that she inadvertently allowed a moan to escape her lips. She knew that she was sopping wet between her legs, and wondered if the indifference she was being shown might alter with their knowledge of her arousal.
Kelly was disappointed when men returned, their faces flat and seemingly bored. “Phase three.” One of them managed, just. Each of the men held some sort of container, and began dousing her body, head to toe with whatever was inside.
At first, the liquid merely felt wet and cold, eliciting a shiver that ran up and down her naked form. Very soon, however, it was more than just cold, it was absolutely freezing. She could feel every single hair she had left on her body stand at attention, almost painfully. It felt as though each follicle was being stretched painfully outward, including the thousands on her head. For a second she thought her scalp might actually lift away from the bone beneath, so violent was the sensation.
“Phase three, complete. Piloerection at maximum level in thirty seconds, prepare for Phase four.” She watched as the four men retreated from the room, closing the door behind her. Meanwhile, Kelly felt as though her skin might peel away from her body, right up until a bright red flash caused her to wince, reacting with whatever was happening to her skin.
Looking down, Kelly seemed coated with white ash, which clung to her skin like a thin layer of powder. The room smelled like burnt hair, and Kelly assumed they had just singed off all her hair. She reached up and thick dust came away in her palm. ‘Was this all that remained of her hair?’
The four men returned, unfastening the bands that had been holding Kelly so firmly in place. “The subject will follow.”
Her legs a bit unsteady, Kelly did her best to keep up with the single-file line the men formed as they led her into a long hallway. Kelly was so humiliated to be seen as she was, as people filed past her. The strange part was that none of them seemed the least bit interested.
“Wash yourself.” The man indicated a small cubical, open to the hall, which had the appearance of a shower stall. So, as the four men watched, she turned on the water and began to rinse away the ash. Only when they were satisfied that all traces of the ash were rinsed away, did they reach in and pull her back into the hall, dripping wet, naked, and completely hairless.
Again, before countless people, men and women both, she was seemingly paraded through the hallway, eventually coming to a long thin corridor, with regularly spaced doorways, that seemed to stretch for hundreds of feet. About halfway down they arrived at a door with a number matching the 5679955 designation they had prescribed her, earlier.
“When not in used the subject will be relegated to its storage unit. You will enter now.” The man said, in a monotone drone. With a touch of his hand against the frame, the door opened.
Kelly stepped inside, daunted by the spartan accommodations. There was only a small shelf with minimal padding, which was to be her bed, and what appeared to be a basin and toilet. The room was so small that it seemed more like a closet than a room. Before she knew what was happening, the door was closed behind her and she was left to come to terms with her situation, and the claustrophobic conditions she was going to have to put up with.
Kelly raised her hands to her head, feeling the rubbery surface intently, perhaps searching for one single hair that the process had missed. Not even her eyelashes were spared. Almost cruelly, whoever designed these rooms, saw fit to install a mirror above the basin, and Kelly was forced to examine her appearance for the first time.
The alien-looking creature staring back at her bore little resemblance to the blonde beauty that had entered the barbershop for a trim that morning. Her lack of brows and eyelashes rendered her face an expressionless mug that seemed barely human. Her ears, which she had always thought poke cutely through her hair, seemed oddly protuberant. With her starkly hairless pate it reminded her of some preconceived notion of a goblin.
She suddenly found the image almost amusing, and a subdued chuckle escaped her lips as she sat down on the marginally comfortable shelf. Still naked, she couldn’t help but touch herself, perhaps out of sheer disbelief over what had just happened. “This has to be a dream or something.” Kelly reasoned, determined to wake up, she squeezed her clit between her fingers until she let out a yelp of pain. “Wake up, already.”
But Kelly’s desperate pleas were fruitless, because this was no dream. As unbelievable as it seemed, this was as real as it could get. Days seemed to pass, but as she had no window to see out of, there was no reference. It was only a guess. They say that time seems to pass more slowly as a person is denied the ability to differentiate between day and night.
So, when Kelly’s door opened for real, and not just the small slot through which her food had been deposited, she was grateful, if only for the break of monotony.
“5679955? Follow me.” This was not the generic men who had processed her. This man seemed more well-kempt and had an air of authority about him. Still naked, and getting used to it, Kelly followed behind him, past the throngs of people in lab coats. Occasionally, she would pass another such as herself, devoid of hair and as naked as she was. A look of despair was all she managed as they passed, the expression echoed in the face of the woman, who seemed as though she was once attractive.
Attractive? Was that something she would ever know again? Would she ever get out of this place? Suddenly feeling very much like a lab rat, she entered a large room, behind the man in the white coat.
“Alright, Kelly. This will be the first of several treatments you will receive before we can release you from the program.” The man smiled, indicating a steel table at the center of the room.
Kelly perked up when she heard of her release. So, she would be let go; but to what? Would she stay as she was now? Would she even have a job when she was released? She worked up the nerve to speak. “My job, I…”
“That has all been dealt with, 5679955.” The man responded, tersely. “You had an accident, and will return to work after a brief stay in the hospital.” He recited, as though he had said countless times. “Your job is secure, although you may choose to accept the position we will offer you at the end of your obligation.
Perhaps things weren’t as bleak as Kelly had imagined them to be. S she was helped onto the table, she noticed that no straps were used to hold her there. Maybe they figured at this point, she would show no resistance to their ‘experiments’.
Two doctors began spreading a slimy green substance over her skin, they themselves wearing gloves. Obviously, they didn’t want whatever this was getting on their skin.
“This is the 645 product, and you will be only the second recipient of the treatment. Once it is thoroughly applied, it will be left to cure over thirty minutes.
When I speak of thorough, there will not be a square millimeter of your skin left uncovered.”
The two men stepped back, examining their work, and doffing their gloves in response. “There. Now we wait.”
Kelly was left alone in the room, unfettered and covered in a tightening green coating. She could just get up and run, but where would she be going? All of the damage was done, or so she thought, so there was no use in fighting it. No, she would simply lie there and accept whatever it was they were doing to her.
As the minutes passed, the green goo seemed to be gripping her body like a rubber sheath. A few times she swore the stuff split as it tightened. Perhaps this was expected. Finally, the three men returned, seeming pleased with my appearance.
“Hop up.” The man instructed, indicating she should stand. “You can brace yourself against the table. This part can be a little jarring.” The two men who had applied the goop, worked at the top of Kelly’s head, and with some effort, split the plasticized casing and began peeling it away from her. Kelly felt as though her face was peeling off with the stuff as they worked it away from her.
Inch by painful inch, the sheath was removed from her body. After several minutes she stood, before them. Looking down, she realized that her skin was as pink as the lip of a seashell. Suddenly embarrassed, Kelly instinctively blushed.
The man chortled. “The pink will fade, but what we’re interested in is the state of your hair follicles. After the fifth treatment, we will assess your progress, and you may very well be ready for release.”
With a modicum of renewed hope, Kelly was returned to her cubical-like cell, almost no worse for wear. As she peered into the mirror, she giggled over the pinkish hue the ‘product’ had given her skin. ‘Was it really going to leave her permanently hairless, or was it going to be another failed attempt at human body hair depilation?’
There must have been a million products on the market claiming to remove hair permanently, but she knew as well as the next person, that none of them actually worked. Was this 645 going to be another futile experiment in the battle over human body hair? Kelly hoped so, because the prospect of being permanently hairless, was daunting, to say the least.
An End in Sight
And so, the daily treatments continued. Kelly wondered why they felt the need to dehumanize their subjects as they did. She really did feel like a lab animal, and perhaps there was something to take away from all this after all. Never once during her week-long stay at the lab, was she ever afforded any modesty whatsoever. Even though her naked exposure was a constant source of arousal, and Kelly had masturbated a lot during that week, she still wondered why it was necessary. She had been paraded around naked from the word go.
During her stay, Kelly became familiar with seeing the myriad of other ‘subjects’ she passed in the hallways. How many of them, she wondered, were ‘willing subjects’. One thing she learned was the amount of her compensation. Not nearly as lucrative as they had promised, and definitely not compensation enough to be potentially hairless for the rest of her life. A measly five thousand dollars was all that was deposited into her account, barely a month’s salary from her job.
After they had stripped her of the latex-like coating for the last time, they had promised, a familiar face appeared. When she first arrived, Dr. Ashford had met her. Of course, now she had been divested of her hair, and any clothing, but he seemed unphased.
“Good morning, Ms. Felton.” He smiled. “I see you have survived our 645 protocol. No worse for wear, it seems, save for your hair of course.” He reached out, running a knowing hand over my denuded scalp, which, at the moment, was bright pink.
Kelly nodded, not knowing what to say. She had been abducted, had her signature forged, and then put through a rigmarole of procedures that may well leave her permanently bald. Not to mention the complete humiliation of her constant nudity, and for all to see, including him.
“Well, only one thing remains, and that is for a group of our technicians and investors to have a good look at you. Time will tell, of course, but I’m quite confident that this product will change the face of body grooming for years to come.” He patted a gurney. It was quite bare, no sheet or covering at all. Just the metal frame and wheels that rendered it portable.
The steel was cold against her newly shed skin, and Kelly winced as the metal pressed into her buttocks and shoulders. Once she was situated, Dr. Ashford wheeled her into what she knew would be a large auditorium. It was.
Just as in her dream, the theater was chock full of people, all ogling her from wherever they had been sitting. Kelly thought she would be quite immune to any humiliation such exposure might elicit. She was wrong. This was far from the indifferent glances she had been afforded in the facility up until then. No, these people wanted to have a good look at her as she was. Her naked hairlessness was the highlight of their day, and they were clamoring to get a closer look.
“I know you are all anxious to get a good look a or ‘willing’ participant, 5679955. As the handouts indicate, we have every confidence that product 645, soon to be known as Folliminate, will revolutionize body grooming. As you can see from the microscopic studies, not a single hair follicle remains intact. Several sites were chosen, including the head, which can prove exceptionally stubborn. This slide shows that this subject’s scalp, before and after treatment. The follicles have been eradicated, and the skin has healed over them completely.
Kelly squirmed on the gurney, as Dr. Ashford ran his hand over her silky smooth mons, smiling down at her. “Are you ready?” He whispered. He directed his gaze back into the crowd. “Okay! If you want to file down by rows, you can have a look, and feel of what true hairlessness is.”
Kelly thought she might explode as hundreds of hands caressed her body. There was no modesty or restraint, no rules, whatsoever. Every part of her anatomy was touched, probed, and explored by the eager guests. They were not candid with their remarks either, and not all of them had anything to do with her depilation. One woman sneered that the subject seemed to be enjoying this process a little too much, running a finger through her sex, and wiping it on Kelly’s slippery scalp.
Of course, most of the crowd were just eager to get their hands on her, to run their fingers over someone so exquisitely and permanently hairless. Kelly couldn’t help but be aroused. This experience would probably be fodder for masturbation for years to come, she was certain of it.
When every guest had had their fill of her, she was wheeled away, and out of sight, back to the room from which she came. Dr. Ashford soon followed, congratulating her on completing the company’s most successful product to date.
Kelly grumbled inwardly, cursing the fact that they finally got it right, and that she would be paying for it for the rest of her life. He handed her a small packet that contained a modest change of clothes.
Inside were a pair of white shorts, a nondescript t-shirt, and sandals. ‘Jeez, you’d think they could drop a dime on some decent clothes.’ Kelly silently cursed. Without a word, she donned the skimpy outfit, and was led to the door of the facility, whereupon she was given back her purse.
Upon checking, she was surprised to find that nothing was missing. Even the one-hundred-seventeen dollars and change were still inside her wallet. For a company that had no qualms about forging her signature, she was surprised that they had left her anything at all.
“Good luck, Ms. Felton. Remember, should you decide to return, we have a position waiting for you at twice the salary you currently enjoy.” He waved.
Back to Reality
Climbing into a cab, all she wanted to do was get as far away from that lab as humanly possible. It wasn’t until they were entering the outskirts of her town, that she began to wonder what on earth she was going to tell everyone.
Kelly did not doubt that what the research had proven was true. There was never going to be a hair sprouting anywhere on her body, ever. The cabby pulled up in front of her apartment building, pushing away the fare, saying it was all taken care of. Kelly slipped the money back into her purse, and climbed out.
She was both relieved and daunted to be back home. When she had left the place, she was a stunning blonde, with shoulder-length hair, and what most would say a pretty face. Now, she knew how much different she was. Gone were the locks, the looks, and the confidence she once sported so well.
Kelly stealthily entered the building, hoping that she could just make it to her apartment without being seen. To her amazement, she had. She was only mildly puzzled to find the items she had purchased that fateful day, resting on the table inside the door to her apartment. ‘So, they had been to her home? What did that mean?’ she wondered. ‘Would they be making frequent visits?’
Trying not to think about it, she set about trying to piece her life back together. Kelly knew that returning to work as she was, would be a serious issue. She was going to have to purchase a wig. With an extra five thousand in her account, that would be easy enough.
She hopped on her computer, making arrangements to be fitted the following day. With any luck, she could get a wig that resembled her old hair and no one would be the wiser.
It was only when she began to retrieve her messages, that she wondered just what the lab had told her employer.
“I’m so sorry, Kel… you always had such great hair.” And “My cousin had it, and lost everything. All our love and support, kiddo.” And finally… “You can always wear a wig, but don’t feel you have to or anything.”
The messages continued, until she realized that there really was no point in wearing a wig. The lab had obviously spread a lie that she had alopecia. Well, now regardless of how she got there, she did.
Kelly began to wrap her head around the notion that it might not be so horrible to be bald. She had always fantasized about it, and now it was a reality. The eyebrows, she was going to have to paint on, there was no doubt there. She wasn’t going to go through life with an expressionless blank face.
Experimenting, Kelly pulled out her makeup, and sat in front of her vanity. She toyed with different styles and thicknesses, until she settled on one she felt was her. “They almost look real.” She whispered aloud. Then she made the call.
“Willard-Banks” the snappy receptionist rattled off.
“Sophie? Hi, it’s Kelly. Kelly Felton.”
“Kelly. How are you, sweetie. Oh, I’m so sorry to hear what happened. Are you okay?” She sounded genuine enough.
“Oh, just fine. Minus a few thousand things…” Kelly tried humor. “But okay.”
“Are you coming back to work?” Sophie asked.
“Yes, I was hoping tomorrow, actually.” Kelly offered. “Is Mr. Banks available?”
“I’ll put you right through. See you soon, kiddo.”
The phone rang a few times before a gruff-sounding man answered. “Banks.”
“Mr. Banks. Hello. It’s Kelly Felton. I was hoping to talk to you about returning to work.” Kelly said, hopefully.
“Really. Are you ready? I mean, we’d love to have you back. The place is a madhouse without you, you know.” He chortled.
“Yes. Obviously, things will look a bit different, but…”
“None of that, now. None of us can help how we look, and folks here will just have to get used to a … shall we say… sleeker you.” He cleared his throat. “Personally, I think it will be a refreshing change of pace.” Not wanting to be taken the wrong way he digressed. “Anyway, Ms. Felton, we’ll see you…”
“Tomorrow too soon?” Kelly suggested.
“Sounds good, Kelly. I look forward to seeing the new you.” He clicked out, and Kelly did the same.
It was time for a trial run. Kelly put on some more appropriate clothing, and set out for Main street. Every once in a while, she found herself reaching up to touch the rubbery smooth surface of her scalp, not quite believing she was out and about like that.
It was a small town, and there were the obligatory glances and stares as people passed her on the sidewalk. A few times, there were some honks from boys in cars and she wondered what crazy fantasies they might be conjuring in their adolescent minds. This was going to take some getting used to.
One Year Later
Kelly sat staring at her reflection. Had it really been a year? She ran a hand over her polished head and sighed. One thing the folks at Hair Research and Development hadn’t prepared her for was what happens to a scalp that has been bald for a period of time.
Unlike a scalp that is shaved, her skin had long since grown smooth with the lack of follicles, and as such, her skin had thinned, and she now had what she jokingly referred to as ‘the old man shine’. Her jet white pate was as reflective as a piece of polished chrome, and that was if she didn’t buff it up, as she often did.
The rest of her skin remained hairless, but smooth, as though hair had never grown there in her life. Her lover seemed to enjoy this the most, when she settled into her moist labia, and there was no stubble tickling her nose. Yes, that’s right, Kelly switched teams, although Kelly would argue she never knew which team she played for until she met Saoirse.
It hadn’t happened overnight, but it had happened. Strangely enough, she had fallen in love with another test subject that had been ‘volunteered’ to participate in further studies at the lab. She worked there now, the temptation of a larger salary, too much to resist.
Unlike Kelly, Saoirse found her bald head too much to bear in public. She had several wigs she wore, but never faulted Kelly for wanting to flaunt her baldness. The only time Saoirse was comfortable revealing her baldness, was when the two were alone. Their lovemaking was so much more intimate and free, without hair to impede their attentions.
One time, Kelly had suggested they try oiling each other up, and it was almost too much for either of them to bear. The continuous stimulation had nearly driven the two of them mad. Both had promised to keep that particular pleasure for very special occasions.
For Kelly, remembering her old self was a bittersweet mixture of regret and acceptance. At times, she missed having her hair, missed just having something to style and to change. On the other hand, had she not gone through the ‘program’ as she liked to call it, she would never have experienced the ultimate culmination of her fetish. Nor would she have met her lover and that would have been the greatest tragedy of all.
Funny as it seemed, Kelly’s powerful fetish for haircutting and shaving faded shortly after it had become a reality for her. She no longer needed to fantasize; she was living the dream.2