The Shave

She entered a room lit by black candles with one dim hanging lantern of royal purple silk. Directly under the lantern on the floor sat a small pillow, just beg enough for her to sit on. To the side, on a small damask covered table were the tools needed: a newly sharpened straight razor, simple razor, pair of scissors, an ornate dagger, a dark crystal bowl with warm water, another bowl of shaving cream and soft warm towels. Slowly, she stepped into the room, placing one bare little foot on the thick rug. Once fully in the dimness she began to disrobe, slipping out of the baggy, faded jeans first then slowly unbuttoning the simple cotton shirt to reveal tightly bound breast. Giving her the appearance of a boy a first glance.
The shirt fell to the floor. She stood straight waiting permission to continue, The master nodded his consent and took a step into the candle light closer to his pet. She stepped out of her black spideweb lace panties and froze in place as the master approached and stepped behind her untying the leather hat bound her petite breast. SHe help her breath at his touch and didn\'t;t move a muscle until he was once again facing her from the dim glow of the candles. Slowly, she unwound the bindings leaving a coiled pile at her feet.
The master bade her come. She knew the ritual, for that ‘s what it had become. It was a ritual she looked forward to. She smiled and silently came to the pillow on the floor and knelt before her master. He stood just looking at her, watching her heaving breast as she breathed. Her pale naked form sitting straight-backed on her knees with eyes cast to the floor. He lifted her chin to gaze into those eyes and saw a happy playful glint.
He spoke not a word, there was no need to. She knew what was to come next.
The master forced her head downward, her long white topknot falling forward. He ran his fingers through the new growth of soft fuzz that covered her scalp, drawing a barely audible whimper from his pet. She felt warm shaving cream massaged under the ponytail. She closed her eyes concentrating on the sensations. She heard him pick up one of the blades, unsure of which one he’s chosen. She felt the blade of the straight razor slowly making its way up through the fuzz to the base of the topknot then she felt it again and again until she felt only air against her skin. She heard him move again to the table. Once again thick cream was massaged around the ponytail, along the sides and on top of her scalp leaving only the front with her long bangs uncovered with white foam. A shiver of anticipation ran through her body, She could feel the wetness between her legs.
He tilted her head to the right . Shaving that side smooth, slowly and carefully. He watched her breathing quicken. Then the master stepped to the other side and tilted her head roughly to the left. She softly moaned. It was building.
“Spread your legs.” The master commanded.
She complied, still kneeling like a geisha, and spread her knees wide.
He stood back, admiring his pet before removing the dagger from the table and kneeling in front of her, He smiled and thrust the ball end of the dagger’s hilt into her warm moist opening, She let out a tiny gasp. This was something new. He pushed the hilt further inside her then stood and backed away to once again admire her. She sat perfectly still, knees wide apart. She knew how sharp the blade was. This was nearly too much.
The master then stepped back to the left, straight razor in hand and once again running it through the new growth, removing it. He glanced down between her legs, seeing the moisture grow along with her desire.
He leaned down, pulling the hilt nearly out only to push it back in again. Once. Twice. She bi her lip to resist crying out. Once last time he plated with the dagger before taking it out and licking the ivory hilt to taste her.
Slowly, methodically he took the dagger blade along her scalp from her bangs back to the front of the ponytail. This drawing more soft moans from his pet, as the blade left behind only alabaster flesh. Slowly, almost painfully slow he sheared the only remaining fuzz from her, leaving only the long white topknot and her bangs which framed her face with white wisp.
She wondered if on of these nights he would decide to take more. Maybe leaving only the ponytail or just the wisp in the front or taking it all.
She felt a warm damp clothe run along her now bare flesh and moaned once more at his touch.
She knew one more thing remained, as he inserted the dagger’s hilt again. She lay back, careful of the blade protruding from her vagina.
The warm lather was applied to the soft fresh growth of hair between her legs. She had thought about bleaching it the same color white as the rest of her hair, but all thoughts flew from her once feeling the razors edge as it laid bare with the same practiced methodical ease as before.
She nearly cried out as he thrust the hilt of the dagger deeper before rinsing her and pulling it torturously out.
Laying in a haze of lust, she watched her mater disrobe and prepare to take her.