Two Eggs, Over Easy

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Two Eggs, Over Easy


By Shorngirl


It was a simple task really. Every morning, just after I woke up, I would walk down to the long wooden shed to gather the eggs. Although the money that I managed with the eggs was negligible, it kept me busy during the day.

We held a stock of about a hundred hens. So, with a daily production of between forty and fifty eggs, I was able to offset the food shopping in trade with the local grocer, who was more than happy to have fresh, organically produced eggs on his shelves.

My name is Katie, and I’ve held many jobs in my young life, but nothing lucrative, or worth mentioning here. I met my lover, Leanna, nearly four years before, and we had quickly set up house together in her large country manor.

Leana’s parents had left the place to her in their will, after they were tragically killed in an accident. She had no need to work, but having earned her law degree, practiced at a local firm in Gloucester, strictly on a part-time basis. We were more than comfortable.

I had long since graduated from a hand-carried basket to a cart, which I wheeled along the narrow passage as I gathered the eggs. The half-dozen cartons which the grocer insisted upon were quickly filled, any remainder finding their way into our own refrigerator.

I knew better than to allow my long blonde hair to hang loose when I was in the sheds. I would always gather it up into a makeshift bun. That morning, for whatever reason, I had forgotten. So, as I made my way down the aisle, the hens would peck at my hair through the chicken wire enclosures, painfully pulling through the mesh.

I cursed the fact that I had forgotten my usual routine, but as I was nearly half finished with the run, I didn’t see any point in going all the way back to the house to fix it.

Flossy, one of our older, but still productive hens, was particularly uppity that morning. As I bent down to gather the egg that she had bestowed, she had decided to take something in return. I felt, rather than saw when she snagged a large knot of my hair and pulled it roughly through the wire.

Before I knew it, I was in a tug of war with the large hen. She was determined to add my hair to her nest, and the more I struggled against her, the more hopelessly my hair became tangled into the mesh of the wire.

Determined to put an end to this struggle, I lurched backward, ending up in a heap on the other side of the aisle. What I saw as I gathered myself was more than upsetting. There, stuck into the chicken wire mesh was a large amount of my precious hair. In my overzealous effort to free myself from the bird’s beak, I had managed to rip out any hair that was still tangled in the fencing.

Panicked, I reached up to feel whatever damage had been wrought by the encounter, and was saddened to find what amounted to a bald patch on the side of my head. I quickly gathered the remaining eggs and hurried back to the house.

I left the eggs by the car, while I ran in to assess the damage. The grocer would simply have to wait. The bathroom mirror was unkind, as I lifted my disheveled hair away from my face. All the hair between my face and my left ear was missing, a ragged bald patch in its place.

No matter how I styled it, there was no hiding the ugly truth. I had seen pictures of women with side shaves and figured that I might just be able to pull off the look. Leanna was going to be pissed. She had always commented on my beautiful hair, so this was going to be a shock.

I formed a part just above the damage, and one running vertically behind my ear. The evil patch was isolated and ready. I took one of the razors that I used to shave my legs and other areas at times and raised it to the side of my head.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Katie, get it over with,” I said under my breath, as I felt the sharp blade tug harshly against my virgin scalp. I had to admit to being fascinated by the jet-white skin the razor revealed as it harvested the sparsely tressed area.

Several strokes of the blade was all it took to reveal the shockingly smooth scalp in its entirety. I allowed the hair that I had parted away from the area to fall back into place. There was going to be no hiding it.

As I drove into the village, I just couldn’t resist the feel of the freshly denuded scalp under my fingertips. I would catch myself with my hand up under the thinly distributed hair that scarcely covered the patch.

So, as I pulled into the grocer’s, I was suddenly aware of a goodly amount of moisture pent up inside my knickers. “Oh, this is ridiculous. How can I possibly find this arousing?” I whispered as I grabbed a trolly to cart the eggs into the store.

I was well aware of a few stares as I walked to the back of the shop, and I knew precisely what they were looking at. As I approached the man himself, I smiled, hoping that the change would be overlooked. I was too optimistic.

“Trying to resemble your product, are you, Miss Katie?” He chuckled, as he counted the cartons. “Never took you for one to try something so bold.”

“Up for a change, I was,” I explained, again unable to prevent my fingers from caressing the bald spot.

“Maybe you should go for the whole thing, you know?” He joked. “Eggs from the egghead herself, yeah?”

I felt a flood of excitement course through me, as he said those words, and I had to look away to hide my face. The idea of shaving my entire head was beyond preposterous. I loved my hair. Leanna loved my hair. “That’s just not going to happen.” I blurted out, ashamed.

“Pity. Might be a good gimmick, you know.” He suggested.

“Can you just add the total to my account please?” I said, flustered. I turned to walk away.

“Will do, Katie. Will do. You be careful around those razors, now.” He added with a giggle.

By the time I got to my car, I was beyond hope. I knew that my juices had made their way around the smooth cotton and was soaking the inside of my thighs. What was wrong with me?

The drive back home barely registered in my head, parking the car somewhat haphazardly in the drive. My clothes were already half off by the time I reached the rear door to the kitchen. I ran to the small half bath, my smallish breasts exposed, and my recently shaved sex glistening with arousal.

Hurriedly, I gathered my hair away from the shaved side, leaving it completely exposed. I knotted the long strands into themselves for lack of anything to tie them with, enjoying my snow-white scalp in all its glory.

My fingers touched my clitoris and my scalp simultaneously, and I came. I came so violently, that I collapsed to my knees. Wave after wave of sensations coursed through me with my continued ministrations, and I wasn’t certain which was giving me more pleasure, my scalp or my clit. It was as though they were working in tandem with one another.

Utterly exhausted, I cleaned myself up and set about my daily chores. It was already one o’clock, and Leanna would be home soon. All the while, I just couldn’t prevent my hand from slipping up beneath my hair.

It didn’t take but a moment for Leanna to notice my ‘patch’. “What on earth have you done to your hair?” She exclaimed, pushing the barely adequate curtain of blonde wisps away from my shame. “Katherine?”

I hated when she used my full name. It was something my mother did when she was angry, and Leanna used it in the same manner. “I had a bit of a run-in with Flossy,” I explained.

Not believing me, I had to take her down to the henhouse, and the scene of the crime. Flossy had managed to pick all my remaining hair from the wire, and there she sat, my bright blonde silk woven neatly into her nest. Leanna couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’ll teach you not to put your hair up in here.”

“You’re not angry?” I wished.

“Angry? Not at all.” We had made our way into the garden by then. She stopped and turned to face me, slipping her cool fingers along the razored surface of my scalp. “I quite like it,” She admitted, which brought an involuntary gasp from my lips. “…and it seems you do, as well.”

Later, as we relaxed in bed, our lovemaking even more intense than ever, Leanna made a comment. “This doesn’t really work, does it.” She said, brushing away the thin strands of hair that barely concealed the bald patch. “I think you’re going to have to have something done, you know.”

“Whatever do you mean?” I asked, curious.

“Well, there’s no sense in hiding it. Might as well flaunt it, yes?” Leanna grinned.

That was all the encouragement I needed. I called to schedule an appointment with my hairdresser the following morning. We had talked about styles, and only briefly had she touched on something short. The electric sensations that jolted through me while we did, however, were more than noticeable.

On the morning of my appointment, Leanna seemed particularly bothered by my hair. “You fancy the idea of going short, don’t you?” She put forward.

“It’s crossed my mind, I have to admit.” I managed, shakily.

“Well, judging by your demeanor at the moment, I’d say it’s more than crossed your mind.” She turned, gathered her brief, and stood by the door. “Short it is, then.” She groused. The door closed behind her, but I heard her say from the other side of it, “Don’t disappoint me.”

I dropped the eggs by the grocer and made my way to the next town. Our small village was not large enough to support a real hair stylist, so I was forced to make the twenty-minute drive to Cheltenham. Having parked my car, I made my way down the high street on foot.

As I stood looking at the small studio, I took in my reflection in the window, knowing that when I emerged, the image would be different.

“Good morning.” The young receptionist smiled.

“Yes. I have an appointment.” I said, nervously. I couldn’t help but notice the girl’s eyes wandering to my patch. “Katie Gooding.”

“Ah, yes, here you are. I have you slotted in with Maria. Have a seat and she’ll be right with you.” The girl directed.

“I’m quite sure my appointment was with Amanda.” I queried.

“Oh, well, Amanda rang in this morning. Maria is taking her appointments. You can reschedule if you like.” She offered.

The idea of not doing anything was less attractive than waiting however many days for Amanda to take me. “No, that’s alright. I’m sure Maria knows what she’s doing.”

Of course, Maria caught me in the act when she came to fetch me, my fingers firmly ensconced beneath my hair.

“You must be Katie?” She assumed, as I quickly folded my fingers together in my lap.

“That’s me.” I managed.

Maria seemed young, her starkly cropped hair standing vertically from her head in a sort of exaggerated flattop. As I sat in her chair, she was quick to notice my bald spot. She expertly fastened the nylon cape around my neck and fastened it almost too tightly.

“Oh, what have we here?” She giggled, lifting my hair to reveal the shaven side of my head. “Pity to hide it under all this hair.”

“Yes, well, that’s why I’m here,” I admitted, barely able to get the phrase through my quivering lips.

“So, we’re going short, then?” She smiled, enthusiastically.

“That’s the plan. I want to get this out there. No sense trying to hide it.” I couldn’t believe I had strung so many words together, but I was almost sorry I had.

“Well, this is exciting.” She leaned in, almost too close. “You’re going to let me do whatever I want, aren’t you?” Maria whispered into my exposed ear.

I felt as though I was going to melt into her chair. Knowing what was ahead, I was thankful I had had the presence of mind to wear a pad. Her words cut into me like a knife and there was no denying her. Unable to voice my consent, I simply nodded.

She rubbed her fingers over the sandpaper surface, running against the grain, deliberately. “Good girl,” I swore I felt her lips against my scalp as she quietly took control.

From that point on, I was merely a spectator. I watched in awe as she parted the hair high on the left side of my head, from front to back, far above where it had been shaved before. I was expecting the clippers, but as she slipped a blade into a dangerous-looking straight razor, I realized she had other plans.

“Let’s let this little secret out, shall we?” Maria grinned, resting the blade firmly against my scalp at the part. One quick motion, and two feet of hair slipped over the cape and onto the floor. Each small stroke sent torrents of blonde silk cascading to the marble floor of the fancy boutique.

As for me, I was completely lost in the moment. My sex must have been frothing, because all I could think about was getting my fingering in there. My clitoris ached to be touched as my hair was slowly but absolutely shorn from my scalp.

As my ear slowly emerged from beneath the veil of hair, I began to realize just how drastic this was going to be. In only ten minutes, all of the hair on the left side of my head was gone, nothing but a puddle surrounding the chair.

My ear now totally exposed, Maria leaned in, her lips caressing its exaggerated arc. “Be a dear and clean this up while I get my clippers.”

The request was simple but outlandishly humiliating. Did she really want me to clean up my own hair from the floor? As I watched her disappear from view, I couldn’t help myself. The cape still firmly about my neck, I slipped out of the chair and to my knees, swiping my hands over the crystalline floor. The long strands gathered easily, and I soon had them grasped tightly in my hands. Suddenly aware that a few other customers were watching me, I groaned audibly. I was still on my knees when Maria returned.

“That’s a good girl.” She stood by the bin, tapping her foot as I rose to my feet. Without a word, she pointed down into the round opening. Obediently, I deposited my once coveted hair into it, like so much trash. “Right where it belongs, I’d say,” Maria commented, as I took my seat once again. “Wouldn’t you?”

Totally humiliated, I was unable to speak at that moment, but my sex was quite literally soaked. I nodded, but it was not enough for Maria, who seemed to be relishing her newfound power.

“I can’t hear you, Katie. Where does your hair belong?” She was no longer whispering, but quiet enough so as not to be heard by anyone but me.

“In the bin.” I managed, almost out of breath.

“What belongs in the bin, Katie?” She pressed.

“My hair,” I spoke a bit too loudly. “My hair belongs in the bin.” A few chuckles erupted from around me, and I realized that I had made a fool of myself.

“I couldn’t agree more, Katie,” Maria smirked, mischievously. “I’m more than happy to oblige.” I watched her fiddle about with a few attachments, finally deciding on the one she was after. The clippers sounded menacing as they switched on, and I knew I was in for it. “Right. Let’s get rid of this lot, then.”

I couldn’t help myself. When the clippers were suddenly brought to my forehead and run back through what remained of my hair, I gasped. In their wake, all that remained was the barest hint of stubble. The contrast between what had been shaved with the blade, and what had been instantly mowed was a barely perceptible line, bright blonde against stark white.

The whine of the clippers continued, while row after row of hair rained down from my head. It was horrible. It was exhilarating. So beyond humiliating and I was loving every second of it. I swore that I was going to masturbate right there in that chair, in front of Maria and all of the women who were now indignantly witnessing my beauty’s demise.

Maria seemed more than enthusiastic, as she wielded that devilish machine. Back and forth, side to side, this way and that she worked, as if each hair on my head was an afront to her senses. Finally, as the clippers fell silent, Maria stood back and admired what she had done to me. I was, quite literally, a mess.

The utterly denuded side of my head only served to mock the stubbled remainder, as if it was letting down the side. If there was a millimeter of hair left, it would have been a lot. Maria ran her hand over the smoothly shaved side, and then in contrast rubbed the other vigorously as if to mock me for having it.

“I can smell you, you rancid whore.” Maria whispered behind my head, and I knew I was completely undone. “I think we’ll finish the job.” She searched for the straight razor, opening it threateningly before my face. “What do you think, Katie?”

“Yes. Please finish the job.” I begged, my fingers having found their way inside my knickers.

“What’s that?” Maria teased.

“Shave me bald. Just do it.” I groaned, and not discretely, either.

“If you insist, Katie Gooding.” Maria was cruelly using me now, and it drove me even deeper into sexual depravity. I didn’t care who knew, or what they thought of me, as I worked myself into a frenzy beneath the cape.

As the razor’s edge worked its way over my head, taking me down to the very bone, I was making no effort at all to hide each orgasm as it swept through me, over me, and out of me. The room must have reeked of my sex, but I simply didn’t care.

So, as Maria mercifully finished the shaving, and my hand rushed to feel the unabashed desolation of my hair, I crashed through the best orgasm of my entire life. By now, the other women had turned away, disgusted with my degenerate display of sexual abandon. It had become too much for them to even watch.

In the back of my mind, I wondered how many of them might be tickling themselves in their beds, later on, imagining themselves in my place. But then, I knew that no self-respecting woman would ever do what I had done. No one would allow themselves to be used, as I had been used that day.

I did my best to put myself together, as Maria whipped off the cape, but the telltale soaking, the crotch of my trousers wet with it; was all too evident.

“I think we outed that little secret of yours, and then some.” Maria boasted, running her fingers over my glass-smooth scalp. I was about to walk to the front, Maria placed a hand on my shoulder. “Forgetting something?” Her eyes fell to the mass of blonde hair surrounding her chair. Ashamed and still completely under her spell, I was powerless to resist. Once again, I fell to my knees and gathered my hair into a pile. Maria had moved the bin over with the toe of her shoe, allowing me to deposit my crowning glory into the only place it truly belonged.

With nothing more said, I paid her and exited the shop, ashamed. Having worn myself out sexually, nothing remained but the abject humiliation of what I had done. Reaching the sanctuary of my car, I raced out of Cheltenham, vowing never to return, lest someone recognize me.

By the time I made it home, I realized that Leanna’s car was in the drive. What in God’s name would she think of me. Surely, she would leave me. Who would want a bald slut such as me? Still reeking of my own sex, I made my way inside.

After a good round of laughter and humiliating comments, Leanna finally let on that she and Maria had chatted for a long while on the phone. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed. I couldn’t help but tell her what a display I had made, saying that I could never show my face in Cheltenham again.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Leanna smirked, “…seeing as I’ve made weekly appointments for you.” Leanna ran her fingers over my head, reigniting the fire in my loins. “This is to be your new look, my darling Katie.”

I was shocked. “But, you loved my hair.”

“I did, but I love your head even more. Besides, Maria said she had a wonderful time knocking you down a few pegs.”

“You say that like you know one another.” I managed, confused.

“Well, in a manner of speaking, we do.” And as if one cue, Maria stepped into the sitting room, wasting no time putting her arms around Leanna and kissing her.

“Hello, little Katie.” Maria mused, cupping Leanna’s breasts from behind.

I wanted to protest, but for whatever reason, I didn’t. All I managed was, “How long?”

“Oh, your Leanna’s been my pet for a few months now. It’ll be nice not having to sneak about anymore.” Maria grinned, slapping Leanna’s behind roughly.

“So, am I to leave?” I asked, the obvious question.

“Oh, I wouldn’t hear of it,” Maria exclaimed. “Now that I have the both of you, it seems like an ideal situation for me.”

I looked up at Leanna, who seemed powerless to object to anything Maria had to say. I couldn’t help but find myself aroused by the situation, as devastating as it was, initially.

“Leanna has been a bit standoffish, but now that you’ve set the example, I think we can finally move forward,” Maria suggested, firmly. “I think it’s time she quit her job and take her place beside you, Katie.”

I watched, in shock as my loving girl, slowly stripped out of her clothes and knelt before Maria, kissing her booted foot. Maria then eyed me. Still powerless to her, I followed suit, stripping out of my clothes which still reeked from my experience under her domineering hand, nuzzling closely beside my beautiful Leanna.

“That’s it, my slaves. Show me your respect.” Maria reached down and rubbed my naked skull, then grasped it tightly in her grip. “Once you’re free of that job of yours, I fully intend to have a matching pair. What do you say to that, Leanna?”

“Why wait.” Leanna sighed, as Maria gripped her hair tightly in her fist.

“Indeed.” Maria reached into her bag, producing the straight razor that had ravaged me only hours before. “Why wait.”

A month later, we had settled into a routine. Having been fired from her firm after showing up bald and tattooed, Leanna had taken her place beside me as Maria took control of us completely. We take turns shaving each other, under Maria’s strict supervision. Life had certainly taken a turn, and although I couldn’t be happier sexually, I miss the closeness that I once shared with my lover.

We now sleep in separate cages, while Maria enjoys the Manor and all the privilege that had once been Leanna’s. She was sad at first, of course, but has since resigned herself to the life we now lead. Leanna, like me, has found delight in the degradation and humiliation we now face on a daily basis. Utterly hairless, right down to our brows and eyelashes, we are her slaves and Maria has no intention of ever letting go.

I am still responsible for the hens, of course, and make my daily deliveries to the grocer, who was more than pleased to find I had taken his advice. I hadn’t had the heart to tell him that he wasn’t the reason I had shaved my head bald. Nor could I explain that the tattoo Leanna and I sported on the back of our skulls was not at his bidding.

It was the same as the logo on his eggs, of course.




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