How could he do this to me? My orgasm wound down rapidly, leaving behind a near-hysteria.How could he do this to me? My orgasm wound down rapidly, leaving behind a near-hysteria. I hadn't really meant this to happen. At all. He worked across my forehead, from my ears forward. I stopped fighting it for a few breaths to try and catch his eye. If he could just see the expression on my face, I thought, he would have to stop. I looked at my forehead in the mirror and went back to futile hysteri- cal struggling when I realized it was too late to stop him. My scalp was showing through; for a distance of three or four inches back from my hairline, my hair was less than a half-inch long. Over my entire forehead, in a line from the fronts of my ears to the top of my head in front, I had a crewcut. He stopped snipping and I tore my eyes from what he was doing long enough to look at the rest of me in the mirror. I was crying. Mascara streaks ran to my chin. Air was hissing through my nostrils like a steam engine, cheeks puffing out, nostrils dilating; my nose was running down to my lips and over the gag, mouth leaking saliva that dripped on the black plastic neck and breasts of the torso. My breath was ragged, my eyes red-rimmed and round. I was making little whining noises through the corners of my mouth around the gag. He smeared shaving cream on my forehead --my new forehead-- and began shaving me with a disposable razor. Funny, the scraping noise of the razor was the only sound I could hear--even my labored breathing faded into the background of my awareness. In shock, I thought, stupidly: "At least it isn't all of my hair," as if it mattered. I can't go out in public the way I am now. It will be months and months growing back. As the razor scraped over my forehead, I became aware again of the vibrators inside me. It had been less than ten minutes since he had put them in, but it seemed so long ago I had nearly forgotten them. I shuddered involuntarily. They didn't feel sexy any more. I just wanted them out. I didn't want another orgasm. I just wanted it to stop, to be undone. He was through. He damp-wiped my forehead and face and fluffed out what was left of my hair. |