Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire - Part 8

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(part 8)


"Katherine Does a Delilah"


This was it, the last page of Katherine's plan was about to be turned. Beth could hear voices in the other room, like the voices of an anxious audience waiting for the final act to be played out. When the curtain rises again, there she will stand, on center stage, the fair damsel in distress waiting for her heroine to save her from certain doom.

Beth was anxious for the final act to begin. She was on the downward slide now, with her role as a dynamic actress in Katherine's great plan reduced to that of an inert prop. The unique, cognitive and complex human being known as Beth Jenson was about to be sacrificed on the D/s altar of sexual depravity. She was to become a simple object of lust, of property, and of depraved indifference. She was passing through the final torment of hell with grand expectations of being reborn again on the other side in California.

Katherine, dear wonderful Katherine, was her spirit guide. Beth could not have asked for anyone more knowledgeable, more resourceful and more dedicated to her salvation than her boss and now closest friend. Katherine was truly a dear friend for all seasons.

Beth remained in Katherine's great room, her body nude, helpless, and fully displayed. She was waiting, waiting in anxious anticipation for the end to come at long last. And she was waiting in trembling fear for the "bonding ceremony" to begin.

She closed her eyes and felt the hard wooden surface on the back of her head. A smile formed on her face, a smile of self-pity. How could she have allowed it to go this far? Was there something wrong with her? It was bad enough for Katherine to cut her long brunette hair short and then dyed it blonde for her role as office bimbo, but to take it to this extreme was beyond any degree of normality.

Normality? She chuckled when that word passed through her mind. Nothing about her life was normal any more. Not her clothes, not her job, not even her identity, nothing at all! Except, for her relationship with Katherine. That was real! That had substance! And that was her lifeline back to a normal way of life!

Many times she found herself falling over the edge and into the dark abyss, only to have Katherine's strong will and determination bring her back from certain destruction. If it weren't for Katherine, then she would be in prison with all hopes of a wonderful life in California gone. Thus, her devotion to Katherine was absolute. Whatever Katherine wanted, she would do. When Katherine told her time and circumstance required drastic action, she told Katherine she understood and would comply. But her understanding and loyalty did not come easy, especially when Katherine told her what she had planned for the final act.

Beth tried to flex her body but the straps held her fast. With the smile gone and her eyes closed she began shaking her head from side to side. An unconscious act of resistance, as her mind began to re-live those dark memories of only a day ago.

That night, when the two returned home from the exhausting experience at the police station, Katherine told Beth what she wanted to do to end this farce. Beth was shocked into disbelief when she first heard it. She was equally dumfounded with her own response to Katherine's barbaric strategy when she heard her voice say, "Yes Mistress, whatever you want of me, your devoted slave, I will obey."

Beth already knew, because of the lack of time, that other options were not an option. Her only recourse was to do what Katherine had planned or suffer the consequences. But what truly scared her was the way she was so accepting and compliant, as if her role as a slave girl had truly become a reality. A reality that was beginning to make her question her ability to continue "playing" the role as a fantasy anymore.

If it wasn't for the fact that this farce was to end soon, then Beth thought seriously of running away from the whole charade. From Katherine, from Paul, from the corporation, even from this part of the country to save herself, to save her identity, to save her sanity, to even save her very soul.

But for the sake of the future, her future, Beth followed Katherine's lead. She said yes to the bonding ceremony with dread and fear, and she said yes to having her head shaved with the same distaste and regret.

Beth began to slowly bang the back of her bald head on the wooden post trying to stop the flow of images that were projecting themselves with disturbing clarity in her mind's eye. But she remembered it all to well, every humiliating minute of it.

The evening after they came home from dining out Katherine told her to go and remove all her clothes and meet her back in the great room. Beth remembered how nervous she was, not from being seen nude in front of the big picture window, but nervous as to whether she would be successfully in playing out her role of happy little slave girl throughout the hair removing process.

A strong image appeared in her mind of what was the first thing she saw when she entered the great room. Katherine was standing with a big smile on her face behind a wooden chair with armrests that was facing the center of the window. She was wearing a long white wrap-around smock tied with a sash such as someone in a beauty salon would wear. And on her feet were a pair of white low heeled shoes. That was all. One of her hands was on the top part of the straight back chair while her other was beckoning her to come and sit down in it.

Beth remembered how slowly she walked over to Katherine, all the while stroking her blonde hair and trying her best to keep a smile on her face. When she was close enough, she touched and then grasped Katherine's hand. She could still feel how warm and steady Katherine's hand was compared to her own cold and trembling one. When Katherine compassionately eased her into the chair she could feel the coldness of the seat on her bare butt.

As long as soon as she was seated, that damn yellow nerf ball appeared in front of her. Katherine was holding it there, steady as ever. Beth knew what to do next, and part of her was grateful for it as well. For once that ball was in her mouth, any speech from her, any pleas to stop, would be completely unintelligible and the scene would continue on no matter what she tried to say.

She took the ball in her hand and opened her mouth wide to accept it. In the process, she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror that was placed directly in front of her. It startled her at first, seeing herself with her mouth stretched wide ready to accept that yellow ball. She thought for a moment at how odd it was. All the other times Katherine was the one who gagged her. But now, she was the one doing it without a second thought. She watched in weird fascination as she shoved that brightly colored ball deep into her own gaping mouth wondering yet again if her slave role was really just a part she was playing in a fantasy game.

Just as the last bit of yellow foam vanished, she was suddenly struck by a revelation. Her eyes went wide and her red lips parted into an "O" revealing a patch of yellow like that of a target on a bull's eye. She was going to have a front row seat, watching every little prolonged step in having her hair removed at the hand of her most closest and dearest friend. Her mind searched for a reason why. Why did Katherine want to make her watch her own humiliation? Why couldn't she just experience the lost of this aspect of her femininity by the sense of touch alone? Why did she have to compound the intensity of her shame and embarrassment by making her watch the whole damn thing? She searched in vain for a reason and could only come up with one. As a slave girl hers was not to reason why, hers was but to do or . .  .  and die she did, on the inside, on that accursed night.

She opened her eyes, and found herself still tethered to the wooden pole in the great room. She tried to focus on her present situation, but all she could see was her image in that damn mirror and Katherine's hands caressing her face and upper body in an attempt to relax her before the lady barber practiced her trade.

Again, she closed her eyes and allowed her memories to flow just like she let Katherine's soft, delicate touch flow over her tense body. It helped, Katherine's gentle caring massage. She remembered how Katherine slowly took her hands and rested them on the armrests. She remembered how Katherine put her warm arms around her and hugged her tightly from behind. And she remembered how Katherine kissed her ever so lightly on the cheek before asking her if she was ready to begin.

She remembered all that. But somehow, she didn't remember nodding her head yes, while nuzzling her cheek up next to Katherine's. Nor did she remember when Katherine released her warm cuddling hug from about her. She did, vaguely, remember Katherine running her fingers through her hair, fondling it, caressing it ever so gently. And she most definitely remembered hearing that distinct buzzing sound when that electric clipper was switched on!

That's when her eyes shot open and her hands grasped the armrests with all her might. Her fingers and nails trying to dig deeply into the hard lacquered wood. That's also when she heard Katherine say those odd terrible words to her.

"Why don't we have a little fun in the process B. Lets see what you would look like with a Mohawk. Won't that be fun pet?"

Fun? FUN! How could anything as ugly and loathsome to a woman as losing her hair be even remotely considered as fun. But alas, once more she was forced to look, and act, the part of a happy slave girl. A slave who was eager to have her golden locks removed to please her dear Mistress. An act that made her feel more like a farm animal, a sheep, that was about to be shorn.

So she widened her lips, to force a big smile from then, while barely shaking her head yes. She continued to stare at herself in the mirror. Her eyes full of fear, sadness and regret, which was the complete opposite of what her happy smiling face was indicating.

The whole exhibition was all so surreal for her. First feeling the cold vibrating metal clippers touching one side of her smooth brow. Then watching it move slowly up and over her head like a miniature lawn mower leaving behind it a straight well defined path of closely cropped fuzz. When it's trek ended, at the back of her neck, she could feel a tickle as a small tuft of hair logged itself between the back of the chair and her exposed goose bump flesh.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion now. Her vision was fixed and focused on the changing image before her. She could not stop herself from watching as row after row of her blonde hair was being systematically removed, leaving in it's wake something barely visible to the human eye. Nothing more than stubble that looked like it belonged more on a man's face than on her head.

She continued to stare into the mirror. A small little smile, or was it a grimace, remained frozen on her face as Katherine began running the buzzing clippers on the other side of her head. And again, the horrible process was repeated. A few minutes later the buzzing stopped and she felt something warm being brushed into her stubble. The smiling face that stared back at her took on another change in appearance as each side of her head was being covered in white foamy lather.

In a way, she felt a little better now, for the warm soapy foam reminded her of shampoo and the many times she enjoyed washing her lovely long hair. She could even smell a faintly familiar scent between the shampoo she once used and that of the shaving cream Katherine was using on her now. But once more, Beth's silver lining was covered by a dark cloud as Katherine carefully guided a double blade safety razor over her frothy white crown.

Soon she was looking at herself with a kind of disembodied fascination. With one side of her head completely shaven, she could see how big it made her ear look. Beth relaxed a little as she turned her head to one side to get a better view. It's not like she never saw her ear before. She just never seen it in full view without any hair surrounding it.

All of a sudden, she felt Katherine rubbing her head with a towel to remove any left over shaving cream from both sides. She could not see the finished product because her view was quickly obstructed as Katherine moved in front of her. Her chin was grasped in Katherine's hand and her head moved from side to side. Katherine was busy inspecting her skills as a barber.

She remembered catching Katherine smiling in satisfaction at the result of her handiwork. She then felt a wave of delight flow across her damaged soul. Again, she wondered why Katherine's happiness would instill the same effect inside of her, especially in the middle of such a humiliating experience like this. She decided to close her eyes and wait for Katherine to finish playing barber. She had no desire to enjoy, out of empathy, such a bitter waking nightmare.

Katherine spent a good amount of time brushing and combing her remaining hair back and then up. No doubt intent on getting that special look she was after. When Katherine finally finished, she was reluctant to look in the mirror. But with a little coaxing and some positive praise whispered in her ear, she did open her eyes.

Her body became rigid as a board as she stared long and hard at the creature staring back at her. Her smile was still wide and full around that gag, but her eyes clouded over and a single tear ran down her right cheek.

Beth was looking up at the vaulted ceiling in the great room. Her head moving from side to side in complete disbelief of that horrid memory. She closed her eyes tightly as a word began echoing in her mind. That same word that came to her when she first saw herself in that damn mirror, FREAK!

Katherine had indeed given her a Mohawk, but on her it made her look like some stupid punk rocker. Her soft feminine features took second stage to her ears, pale scalp and Fuller Brush type hair cut. But as much as she despised it, that's how much Katherine loved it. And of course if Katherine liked it, then she had to like it too, or at least pretend like she did.

More humiliating memories flooded her mind. How she was told by Katherine to stand and display herself in the window for Paul's benefit, and all those other anonymous voyeurs who also wanted a good look see. She remembered fighting the urge to run away and cry her eyes out in her bedroom. She had to follow through with this no matter how badly she felt. Her future rested on her talents as an actress to continue to play this difficult part to a successful outcome. Besides, Katherine would have been very disappointed in her if she had failed. And considering all the time, effort and how much of her own credibility was on the line now, that made another strong reason for her to carry out this humiliating charade to the end.

The only resource she had to fall back on was her mantra. 'I am Beth Jenson, an intelligent and free heterosexual woman. I am doing this for a better life and this too will soon be over.'

Even now, strapped to the pole, alone in the great room, waiting and remembering, Beth's lips moved in silence with those same words. 'I am Beth Jenson, an intelligent and free heterosexual woman. I am doing this for a better life and this too will soon be over.'

Over and over again, she had repeated those words to herself while Katherine told her to assume one pose after the other. Just like in Katherine's office, at lunchtime, Beth moved like a puppet to Katherine's verbal tug on her control strings. But this time Katherine took pictures of her, lots of pictures of her Mohawk pet, in the most photogenic and pornographic ways possible.

Beth felt like a doll in Katherine's hands. She smiled, pouted, danced and held her pose on command. She remembered being ordered to fold her arms in front of her and then sit on a table facing the window like an American Indian. Her Mohawk hair cut, big bare breasts and wide shaven pussy in full view for Paul and her loyal voyeur fan club to see and marvel at.

She remembered hearing the click, click, click of the camera shutter as Katherine took picture after picture of her sexy poses. Poses with her mouth open, eyes closed and her head tilted back in ecstasy. Poses with one of her hands on her bald scalp while the other was busy playing with her breasts, nipples and pussy. Each picture was a record of her supposedly erotic gratification with what Katherine had done to her. She made herself look like she enjoyed it, even when Katherine told her to get down on her knees, bow her head and kiss her Mistress's shiny white shoes. Once more the camera clicked away, recording another tender moment between Mistress and slave.

It was all so obvious, even to the most causal observer, that the tears flowing down her cheeks were tears of love and joy. Obvious to all except Beth, who felt so incredible degraded by her public display of self- debasement that the silent flowing tears were all she had to show to how hurt she was with her outrageous disfigurement. Beth thought, in hindsight, how funny it was that those tears could have two such different meanings.

What seemed like hours later, a smiling Katherine ordered her back into the chair so she could finish what she had started. She obeyed her Mistress promptly and took her place in the chair, her eyes going to that strange image of herself in the mirror. A "self" that was slowly dissolving away with each pass of the clippers.

Her NEW reflected image was burned deep into her mind. She looked so different now, so cold, so sterile. Even her ever-present beautiful smile looked so faked, just like the rest of her doll like features. Katherine became so lost in her barber persona that she even shaved off Beth's eyebrows as well. But the final act to Katherine's bizarre transformation of Beth occurred when she rubbed a little oil into her bare scalp to give it a nice shiny luster.

Amongst all Beth's nightmarish memories, there was only one good one that stood out from all the bad. It happened right after Katherine kissed her on top of her bald head. She then lowered her mouth and whispered in Beth's right ear.

"I know this was very hard for you Beth and words can not begin to tell you how proud I am of you. Your courage and tenacity to follow the plan and your trust and loyalty in me is beyond reproach, boarding on inspirational. I am so very lucky and grateful to have such an incredible and unique woman like you going to California with me. I just wanted to say thank you Beth. Thank you ever so much for being the woman that I know you could be." And then Katherine kissed her on the cheek.

Beth's dark feelings just melted away. She quickly turned in her chair and hugged Katherine for all she was worth.

Never, not even in her wildest dreams, had she hoped to receive such glowing praise from Katherine. And to all who were observing them about then, Katherine and Beth made one very strange lesbian couple. It seemed like one of the women was showing a deep and touching appreciation for being turned into some bald headed kinky sex doll by the other. But in fact, at that very moment, objectification was the last thing that existed between the two women.

Oh yes, Beth remembered the circumstances under which she lost her hair that horrible night, and of the sharp contrast that existed between Katherine and herself from that point on. Katherine was the warm erotic seductress of both unique talents and tastes. And her, oh yes, HER! That generic term suited Beth well now. HER, and DOLL, and SEX TOY! All those words used to describe someone, no, some THING, of a nondescript nature. Just like the term "generic female" did, which was how she was beginning to see herself as.

Even though there was that one tender shared moment of warmth, love and shared admiration, beth still had to look at herself in the mirror. And with each time she looked, it was getting harder and harder for her to see the "Beth" she once was. And what she did see, was someone who was quickly approaching what she saw in that jail cell with Tonya, THING!

Oh yes, she will be happy when this bad dream of hers was all over with. Then her new dream of being a corporate executive in sunny California with Katherine could begin.

Beth tried to take a deep breath, but the straps that held her to the pole were far to tight to allow anything but a shallow breath. Oh why didn't she tell Tonya not to make them so tight!

Oh yes, Tonya! Another person she would be happy to see out of her life along with Paul. Especially with what she did to her all this morning to prepare her for her role as serving wench. Another role that Katherine told her she had to play before tonight's bonding ceremony.

Beth wonder if her butt cheeks were still as red as they felt.

 

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