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Hi my name is Rose but people call me Rosie. I am 26 years old, single and still looking for that illusive long term boyfriend. All my past relationships seem to last for a few months and then fizzle out. I just cannot keep a boyfriend happy.
I am currently boyfriend free and live alone in a rented bedsit apartment. Sometimes I honestly believe that if I disappeared tomorrow no one would notice.
The only good thing in my life is my job in the accounts department at FACE TODAY fashion and beauty magazine. It is a great place to work, my work colleagues are friendly and the cherry on the cake is the owner and CEO of the company Mr Steele is really quite dishy although he is a little elusive and something of a mystery.
It is that time of year when the company holds its charity month and all employees are encouraged to think of new and innovative ways to raise money for local charities.
My idea although not exactly unique was to hold a sponsored haircut.
My hair is very long and reached past my bra strap and I would guess that it is 18 inches long from scalp to tip. I could happily lose a few inches of hair no problem.
I distributed the sponsorship forms amongst friends and colleagues and hoped to raise a decent amount of money for my chosen charity.
ROSE CARTWRIGHT – ACCOUNTS DEPARTMENT
2pm FRIDAY 1ST JUNE IN STAFF DINING ROOM.
ONE INCH OF HAIR FOR EVERY £1000 RAISED.
As the big day approached the sponsorship was going well and had reached the grand sum of £6000, a little more than I anticipated. The loss of six inches of hair would take it to shoulder length but I could handle that and it was for a good cause.
The day of the big cut arrived and a further £1000 had been added to the total. Seven inches of hair, no problem, my hair would still sit just above my shoulders.
1.45pm on Friday afternoon and the workforce gathered in the dinning hall where a makeshift stage had been erected.
I took my seat on the stage as a hairdresser from one of the local salons covered my body in a striped barbers apron and fastened it securely at the neck.
The hairdresser measured 7 inches of my hair from its tip and sniped the required 7 inches separating it from my long auburn mane. The women clapped and the guys wolf whistled. The hairdresser continued to cut the required length of hair from around my head and my fund raising effort was given a load cheer as the final length of hair hit the stage floor.
“Ok everyone let’s give Rosie a big cheer for her sterling fundraising effort.” declared Tom, my line manager as the hairdresser untied the apron from around my neck.
“Wait.” came a voice from the back of the crowd. The crowd turned and parted like the Red Sea to allow Mr Steele to walk towards the stage.
” I haven’t made my contribution yet.” he said standing in front of me.
” I would like to donate £15000.”
The crowd gasped and then cheered.
“But that’s all my hair.” I said.
“Exactly.” declared Mr Steele.
The hairdresser retied the apron around my neck and the crowd cheered.
This cannot be happening, this was not part of the plan. I looked up at Mr Steele, my eyes pleading with him to stop this humiliation.
Mr Steele smiled and leaned into me and whispered, “You will look stunning bald.
“Please sir, don’t do this to me.” I begged.
“A contract is a contract and your hair now belongs to me.” he whispered.
Mr Steele stood back to give the hairdresser the space to strip me of my hair and my dignity.
The atmosphere in the room changed and the baying crowd, my work colleagues and friends chanted aloud.
“SHAVE HER, SHAVE HER.”
My eyes filled with tears as the hot chattering teeth of the hair clippers touched the skin of my forehead.
“SHAVE HER, SHAVE HER.”
The vibrating teeth pushed back from my forehead towards the crown of my head leaving a path of short stubble down the centre of my scalp in its wake. The women in the crowd gasped and the men cheered and all I could do was watch as my beautiful auburn hair fall across my body and onto the floor beneath me.
“SHAVE HER, SHAVE HER.”
I looked across to Mr Steele, his eyes transfixed on the spectacle being played out before him.
The tears now flowed from my eyes and down me cheeks. This only seemed to please and excite him more.
Having stripped the hair from the top of my head the hairdresser worked the clippers up my nape and around my ears. The mountain of hair around the chair grew as the amount of hair on my head dissipated with each pass of the clippers.
“SHAVE HER, SHAVE HER.” The crowd cheered louder.
The clippers fell silent as I reached up and touched my scalp.
I felt nothing but a covering of short sharp stubble.
My head sank into my hands as my body trembled and floods of tears rolled down my face.
The men in the crowd cheered and many of the women cried at the spectacle they had just witnessed only content in the fact that it wasn’t them that was bahis siteleri sat on the stage being stripped of their hair, dignity and pride.
I felt the hairdresser release the apron ties from around my neck.
“Wait, Miss Cartwright still has hair on her head.” declared Mr Steele.
I raised my head and stared back through teary eyes at him.
His eyes transfixed on me but now all I could see was a look of lust and wanting staring back at me.
I could not escape the fate that lay ahead of me. I sat up straight in the chair and stared back at Mr Steele as the hairdresser covered my scalp in shaving cream.
Our eyes fixed on each other, neither of us blinking.
The cold steel of the straight razor touched the crown of my head and glided forward striping the cream and what remained of my hair from my scalp to leave a baby smooth patch of skin.
“SHAVE HER, SHAVE HER.”
The touch of the cold razor’s edge as it glided across my head, up my nape and around my ears only added to the feeling of excitement building inside me.
I sat in front of work colleagues and friends, some of the men I had even dated and made love to. I was at Mr Steele’s mercy. My pride and dignity was being so brutally stripped away from me. I felt humiliated and degraded but I felt alive, every nerve in my body reacting to the touch of the razor’s edge.
Our eyes never left each others stare. The passion, the lust, the excitement emanating from his eyes bore into my very soul.
“SHAVE HER, SHAVE HER.” the baying crowd chanted.
They could shout as loud as they wished because as far as I was concerned the only two people in the room were me and Mr Steele as our eyes and minds made love, beautiful sexually charged love.
My loins ached for him, my vulva swelled and moistened as my clit throbbed beneath my panties.
I wanted him, I wanted the man who had humiliated me in front of my friends and colleagues to penetrate me, to explore and use me as he wished.
My shaving complete, the crowd cheered.
” Wait.” declared Mr Steele. ” To my reckoning I believe we are still owed £4000 worth of hair and I would consider Miss Cartwright’s eyebrows fair game.”
“SHAVE THEM OFF, SHAVE THEM OFF.” The crowd bayed.
The soft shaving cream covered my eyebrows.
SHAVE THEM OFF, SHAVE THEM OFF.
Mr Steele’s stare touched my very soul as I released my sex into my panties.
The razor’s edge striped my eyebrows as the crowd cheered and clapped.
Finally released from the cape I stood as members of the crowd pointed towards the wet patch around my groin and laughed.
My excitement on view for all to see.
I had never felt so humiliated and degraded but something inside me stirred. I wanted more. I wanted him. I needed him.
I ran to the staff bathroom and stared at my reflection in the wall mirror. All my long auburn hair had been shaved off and my dome was completely smooth with the glow from the harsh bathroom strip light reflecting from my scalp’s glossy surface. My eyebrows now gone my head was completely devoid of hair allowing my ears to stick out making me look like an alien lifeform.
I ran into a toilet cubicle, locked myself in and sobbed.
A knock on the door.
“Miss Cartwright, Mr Steele wishes to see you in his office now, please follow me” said the feminine voice on the other side of the toilet door.
I steadied my self and did as requested.
“Miss Cartwright because of your rather immature behaviour and your inability to control your sexual emotions I believe your position at FACE TODAY is untenable, you cannot possibly work with other members of the accounts team.” said Mr Steele.
Mr Steele interrupted me “Please let me finish. By sheer good fortune a vacancy has arisen for the position as a maid at my private residence. My old maid has retired and moved on to pastures new. Are you interested in filling that vacancy?”
No job, no money, no rent, no home. It was a no brainer. I had no choice.
“Yes please Mr Steele.”
“In that case, my driver awaits you at the main entrance, he will drive you to my home.” He replied.
After a short journey the limousine pulled into the driveway of a very large country house set in its own private grounds.
The driver escorted me to the front door.
A female dressed in a black and white French maids uniform opened the door.
The uniform dress left nothing to the imagination. The bust of the dressed was cut very low and only just covered the maids more than ample breasts. The skirt was extremely short and filled out with numerous net and lace petticoats. The only reason the maids backside was not on show were the very frilly ruffle panties she wore. She wore sheer black fully fashioned seamed stocking supported by no less that six suspender straps on each leg. Her shoes were black patent leather 4 inch stiletto heels.
One blatantly striking feature of the maid was that her head was shaved completely bald and shone like a billiard ball. Her eyebrows canlı bahis siteleri were non existent.
“Miss Cartwright, we have been told to expect you, please come in.”
The maid turned and walked into the entrance hall.
Tattooed across the back of her head in black gothic writing was the word
I was shown into a room that looked not dissimilar to a beauty salon where a further two women dressed in the same French maids’ uniform stood waiting.
“Miss Cartwright, this is Monday and this is Saturday.” She said waving towards the two maids.
“As you may have gathered from my tag, I am Wednesday.” she continued.
“Please undress and take a shower.” Wednesday instructed.
I did as I was told and after showering I found myself lay on a waxing table being worked on by the three maids.
On completion my body was totally devoid of hair.
“Now please sit in the salon chair where Tuesday will shave your head.” instructed Wednesday.
A forth maid entered the room.
“But my head was only shaved this afternoon.” I said.
“But now how we shave it, Mr Steele likes us to wear our scalp in a certain way.” she said as the ceiling light reflected from her perfectly smooth and shiny dome.
Tuesday shaved my head no less than three times, each shave punctuated by my head being covered in a hot damp towel.
After the third shave a richly scented wax was applied to my scalp.
I watched in the mirror as Tuesday buffed my waxed head with what appeared to be a soft lambs wool cloth.
“There we go, as shiny as a new car in a showroom. Tuesday declared.
My head shone like a beacon reflecting the light from the salon strip lights. The skin on my scalp was like a mirror.
Tuesday shaved my non existent eyebrows again and I was finished.
As I stood from the salon chair the door opened and a large man covered in tattoos entered.
“This is Tom, he is the tattooist from the local town, he assists us whenever a new member of staff needs tagging, please return to the chair” instructed Wednesday.
Tagging? New member of staff? Does she mean me?
Tom’s heavy hand steadied my head as the needles impregnated my scalp and permanently inked my new tag to my head.
Wednesday held up a hand mirror to the back of my head. I looked at the reflection and there it was tattooed across the back of my head in black gothic writing.
“Now there is no time to waste, as you are probably aware today is Friday so you will be accompanying Mr Steele to his club so we need to get you dressed but before we do go to the bathroom an have a wee.” said Wednesday.
“But I don’t need a wee.” I replied.
“Trust me, just have a wee because when you are dressed in your outfit there is no place to go.”
Although I didn’t need a wee I had one just the same.
As I returned to the salon two further maids, Sunday and Thursday had appeared carrying my outfit for the evening.
Seven maids in one room, Sunday through to Saturday all dressed identical apart from me who was still naked.
The six maids oiled my body apart from my head. Why on earth are they oiling my body and then I saw my outfit. It was a skin tight black latex body suit.
I slipped my feet in through the neck opening and the maids pulled and tugged, twisted and stretched the suit until my whole body was covered in black latex.
The suit covered my whole body including my feet and hands. The neck opening finished just below my chin.
“Now do you see why I told you to have a wee? asked Wednesday.
“But if I do need a wee, what do I do?” I asked.
“Just do it where your standing, no one will notice, it’s locked in there with you.” replied Wednesday with a giggle.
A pair of black patent leather thigh length boots with a 7 inch stiletto heel were pulled up my legs.
“How on earth am I expected to walk in these?” I asked.
“You will get used to it trust me.” replied Wednesday ” It only becomes a problem when Mr Steele asks us to wear the ankle shackles.”
Tuesday applied my make up and gave me bright red lips and dark dusky eye shadow.
“Now for the final touch.” said Wednesday as she secured a bright red dog collar around my neck.
“Finished.” She declared as she led me out to the entrance hall to wait for Mr Steele.
Mr Steele descended the wide sweeping staircase dressed in a black tuxedo. He looked so handsome.
My stomach did a somersault and I felt the my loins begin to ache for him.
I do hope I meet his expectations.
Mr Steele approached me.
“You look stunning Friday.” he said as he clipped the gold dog chain to my collar.
He leaned into me and kissed me on the lips. His hands touching and caressing my freshly waxed dome.
I could not control myself. My vulva swelled as I released my sex into my latex suit. The warm feeling of my juices sitting in the groin area of the suit with no escape excited me but did I really want to do that? I would be wet for the remainder of the evening.
After canlı bahis a short car journey we arrived at Mr Steele’s club. The club was located on a busy street in the centre of the city and it was still busy with last minute shoppers and people returning home from work.
“I’m afraid I cannot get any closer to the club sir, I will have to park here.”
“That’s fine Parker, we can walk, it’s only fifty yards and I’m sure Friday will enjoy her walk. I will call you when we need picking up.” replied Mr Steele.
It was a beautiful June evening as Mr Steele led me on my dog lead along the footpath towards the club.
People stared in disbelieve at the site of a shaven headed woman dressed in a body hugging latex suit being led on a dog lead by a handsome blonde hair haired man dressed in a tuxedo.
Some just pointed and stared, some laughed. The worst reactions came from the women.
“How could she sink so low?”
” I would never let a man treat me like that.”
“She’s nothing but a cheap slut.”
They were right, I was a cheap slut but the comments did not upset me, they only fed the inner warmth I was feeling in my stomach and between my legs.
We entered the club and I truly believed that I had walked into a scene from hell.
Naked men walked around with their penis either swinging freely or worse still sticking out erect looking for their next female victim.
Women dressed in sultry and sexy underwear, suspenders and stockings, latex body suits with open an crutch.
Some walked freely around the club offering their wares whilst others were spread eagled and chained to wall shackles ready and waiting for any passing man. I noticed that some of the older women sported hair free domes and clearly displayed a gothic head tattoo, Monday, Thursday and I spotted at least 2 Wednesdays.
Then I saw her, a shaven headed women shackled by her wrists and ankles to what looked like a padded vaulting horse, she was bent over ready to offer her pussy to the line of men waiting in turn to fuck her.
On the back of her shaved head was a tattoo
Mr Steele stopped and spoke to her whilst she was being used by a naked man from behind.
” I do hope your settling in to your new role at my club?”
The poor woman was unable to reply due to the bright red ball gag secured firmly in her mouth.
Mr Steele led me through the club and to his office.
He unleashed me and sat behind his office desk.
“Wait over there in the corner.” he commanded.
I looked but could only see a large wicker dog basket.
“But there is only a dog basket in the corner?” I said.
“Yes and it is for you, you may sit, kneel or even lie down and have a sleep if you wish the choice is yours, I am not an unreasonable man.” he replied.
“And if you was wondering, the woman I spoke to in the club was your predecessor. Unfortunately for her she reached the grand old age of 30 and when women reach such an age they are no longer useful to me personally so I redeploy them in my club.”
My god, is this what I have to look forward to in four years time.
My throat ran dry as I pondered my fate.
“Could I please have a drink of water, my throat is dry?” I asked.
“Yes certainly, there is a bowl of fresh water just by the side of your basket. Now be a good girl and let me do my accounts.”
I knelt on all fours and lapped up the water from my bowl.
Mr Steele looked across at me and smiled. “Good girl.”
My Steele was pleased with me, I was so happy that I had made my master happy.
I curled up in my basket and fell asleep.
“Wake up Friday it’s time to go home.”
Mr Steele clipped my dog lead to my collar and led me from the club.
It was still light outside with the sun low in the sky.
“You have been such a good girl I will take you for a walk in the park before we go home.” he said.
The park was still quite busy with groups of youths, courting couples and people enjoying the late evening sun.
I did my best to keep up with Mr Steele as he walked in front of me but it was difficult in my 7 inch stiletto heels.
My stomach began to ache and I just knew I needed a wee. I slowed down.
Mr Steele stoped walking.
“You need a wee, don’t you?”
“Well I am reliably informed by the other girls that it is easier and more satisfying if you get down on all fours and spread your legs slightly.” he said.
I did as advised.
In the middle of a public park with young courting couples walking by, still attached to my dog lead I squatted on all fours, parted my legs and relieved myself. The warmth of my wee flooding around my groin and inner thighs encapsulated within my latex suit felt strangely warm and comforting.
I had reached a low point in my life and it felt wonderful. I had finally found a man who would take care of me and treat me for what I was.
HIS GIRL FRIDAY.
Parker picked us up at the entrance to the park and drove us home.
The other girls were waiting to greet us as.
Mr Steele entered his private study and the girls whisked me off to prepare me for Mr Steele’s pleasure.
It took 3 of the girls to extricate me from the body suit.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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