This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.

 


                 "Out of the Frying Pan and into the Fire"

                                by Musker

                       Inspired by and dedicated to
                            a very special Muse.

                                (part 8)

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

Oh yes, Beth was also anxious for the final act to begin. She was on the
downward slide now. Her role as a dynamic actress in Katherin's great plan
reduced her to that of an inert prop now. The unique, cognitive and complex
human being know as Beth Jenson was about to be sacrificed on the D/s alter
of sexual depravity. She was to become a simple object of lust, property,
and depraved indifference. She was passing through the final torments of
hell with grand expectations of being reborn again on the other side in
California. And Katherin, dear wonderful Katherin, 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.
Katherin was truly friend for all seasons.

And so Beth remained in Katherin's great room. Her body nude, helpless and
displayed, waiting. Waiting in anxious anticipation for the end to come at
long last. And 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 sarcasm. How could she have
allowed it to go this far? Was there something wrong with her? It was bad
enough for Katherin cut her long brunette hair short and then died it
blonde for her role as office bimbo, but to take it to this extreme was
beyond any degree of normalcy.

Normalcy? 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 Katherin. That was real! That had
substance to build on. And that was her lifeline back to her normal way of
life. Many times she found herself falling over the edge and into the dark
abyss only to have Katherin's strong will and determination bring her back
from certain destruction. If it wasn't for Katherin, she would be in prison
with all hopes of a wonderful life in California gone.

Thus, her devotion to Katherin was absolute. Whatever Katherin wanted she
would do. When Katherin told her time and circumstance required drastic
action, she told Katherin she understood and would comply. But her
understanding and loyalty did not come easy, especially when Katherin told
her what she had planned for the final act.

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

That night, when the two returned home from their exhausting experience at
the police station, Katherin 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 Katherin's barbaric strategy
when she heard her voice say "Yes Mistress, whatever you want of me, your
devote slave, I will obey."

Beth already knew because of the lack of time that options were null and
void. Her only recourse was to do what Katherin had planned or suffer the
consequences. But what truly scared her was the way she was so accepting
and compliant with the idea. 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 fantasy anymore. If it wasn't for
the fact that this facade was to end soon, then Beth was seriously thinking
of running away from the whole charade. From Katherin, from Paul, from the
corporation, even from this part of the country in order to save herself.
To save her identity. To save her sanity. To save her very soul no less.
But for the sake of the future, her future, Beth followed Katherin's lead.
She said yes to the bonding ceremony with dread and fear. And she said yes
to having her head shaved clean with the same distaste and regret.

Beth closed her eyes tight and 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 in disturbing clarity in her mind's eye. But she
remembered it all to well, every humiliating bit of it.

It started the next evening after they came home from dining out. Katherin
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 again, but nervous in 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. It was the first thing she saw when
she entered the great room. Katherin was standing with a big smile on her
face behind a chair that was facing the center of the big window. She was
wearing a long white wrap around smock tied with a sash that men barbers
wear, and a pair of white low heel shoes, nothing else. She had one hand on
a straight back wooden chair with armrests while her other hand was
stretched out in front of her beckoning her to come and sit down.

Beth remembered how slowly she walked over to Katherin. All the while she
kept stroking her bimbo cut blonde hair and trying her best to keep her
lips spread wide with a smile. When she was close enough she touched and
then grasp Katherin's hand. She could still feel how warm and steady her
hand was compared to her cold and trembling one. And when Katherin
compassionately eased her into the chair she could ghostly feel the
coldness of the seat on her derriere.

As soon as she was seated, Katherin's hand appeared in front of her. Her
hand holding that damn yellow nerf ball. Beth knew what to do next and part
of her was grateful for it. For once that ball was in her mouth any speech
from her, any pleads for mercy to stop, will be completely unintelligible
and thus her hair cropping would go on no matter what she tried to say.
She took the ball in her hand and opened her mouth wide to accept it, but
in the process she caught a glimpse of herself in a small mirror that was
placed directly in front of her. It startled her at first, seeing herself
with her mouth stretch wide around that yellow ball. She thought for a
moment at how odd it was. All the other times Katherin was the one who
gagged her like this. But now she was the one doing it, to herself, without
a second thought. She watched in weird fascination as she continued to
shove that brightly colored ball deep into her own gapping orifice. Again
wondering if her slave role was really just a part she played in a fantasy
anymore.

Just as the last bit of yellow foam vanished into her hungry mouth she was
suddenly struck by a revelation. Her eyes went big and her red lips parted
into an "O" shape pout revealing a patch of yellow like a target on a
bull's-eye. She was going to have a front roll seat in watching every
little prolonged step in having her lovely hair removed at the hand of her
closest and dearest friend. Her mind searched for a reason why, then and
now. Why did Katherin make it possible for her to watch her own public
humiliation?  Why couldn't she just experience her lost of femininity by
sense of touch alone? Why did she have to compound the intensity of her
shame and embarrassment by making her watch too? She searched in vein 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, inside, on that
accursed night.

She opened her eyes still tethered to the wooden pole in the great room.
She tried to focus on her present surroundings, but all she could see was
her reflected image in that damn mirror, and Katherin's hands caressing her
face and upper body in a move 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 Katherin's soft delicate touch flow over her pale tense skin. It did
help, Katherin's gentle caring massage. She remembered how Katherin slowly
took her arms and rested them on the armrests. She remembered how Katherin
put her warm arms around her and hugged her tightly from behind. And she
remembered how Katherin kissed her ever so lightly on the cheek just before
asking her if she was ready to begin.

She remembered all that. But somehow she didn't remember shaking her head
yes while she closed her eyes and nuzzle her cheek up next to Katherin's.
Nor did she remember when Katherin released her hugging self from her own
relaxed form. She did vaguely remember Katherin running her fingers through
her hair, fondling it, caressing it ever so gently. But the one thing she
did remember with a jolt was when she heard the buzzing sound of a barber's
electric clippers being turned on.

That's when her eyes shot open and her hands grasp the armrest. Her fingers
and nails trying to dig deeply into the hard lacquered wood. And that's
when she heard Katherin 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 self loathing to a woman as
loosing her hair be even remotely considered as fun? But alas, once more
Beth was forced to look and act the part of a happy ditsy slave girl eager
to have her golden locks removed like a shone sheep. So she widen her
closed lips into a big forced smile as she barely shook her head yes. She
continued to stare at herself in the mirror. Her eyes full of fear, sadness
and regret. A silent betrayal to her happy smiling face.

It was all so surreal to Beth. First feeling the cold metal clippers
touching her brow and then move slowly up and over her head like a
miniature lawn mower leaving behind it a straight well defined path of tiny
little nubby hairs. And when it's trek ended behind her head she could feel
a little tickle as a small tuff of hair slowly fell down along her back. It
was as if everything was in slow motion. Beth watched with bugged eyed
intensity as row after row after row of her luscious golden mane was
removed and replaced with something that was barely even visible. No more
than stubble that looked like it belong on a man's face instead of on her
head.

Beth continued to stare into the mirror. A small little smile or was it a
grimace frozen on her face, as Katherin began running the buzzing clippers
on the other side of her head. A few minutes later the buzzing stopped. But
before Beth could take a good look at her new "hair-less do" she felt
something warm being brushed into her stubble. She looked carefully in the
mirror and watched each side of her head being covered in a white foamy
lather. In a way, Beth felt a little better now. For the warm soapy foam
reminded her of shampoo and the many times she enjoyed washing her full
head of lovely long hair. She could even smell a faint familiar scent
between the shampoo she once used and that of the shaving cream Katherin
was using on her now.

But, once more, Beth's silver lining was being cover by dark clouds as
Katherin carefully glided a double blade safety razor over Beth's frothy
white crown. Soon Beth was looking at herself with a chilling fascination
and perhaps with a little neurotic levity. With one side completely shaven
away she could now see how complex and big her ear looked. She even relaxed
a little as she turned her head a bit to one side to get a better view.
It's not like she never seen an ear before. She just never seen hers', in
full view, without any hair around it. Then all of a sudden she felt
Katherin rubbing her head with a towel to remove any left over shaving
cream that still remained from both sides of her head.

Beth could not see the finished product for her view was quickly obstructed
by Katherin standing in front of her. She felt her chin being grasp in
Katherin's hand and then her head being moved from side to side. Katherin
was busy inspecting her skills as a first time barber. Beth caught her
smiling in satisfaction at her amateur status, and then she too felt a wave
of delight flow across her dismal soul. Again, she wondered why Katherin's
happiness would instill the same effect inside her, especially when she was
in the middle of such a humiliating experience. She decided to close her
eyes and wait for Katherin to finish playing barber. She had no desire to
sweeten such a bitter waking nightmare for herself.

Katherin did spend a good amount of time brushing and combing Beth's hair
back and up, no doubt intent on getting that special look she was after.
And when Katherin was finished Beth was very reluctant to look at her new
self in the mirror. But finally, with a little coaxing and some positive
praises from Katherin, Beth did open her eyes.

Her body became rigid as a board as she stared long and hard at the
creature that starred back at her. Her smile still wide and full, but her
eyes were glassy as a single tear ran down her cheek.

Beth opened her eyes and stared at the vaulted ceiling in the great room.
Her head moved from side to side in negative compliance to her memory of
that moment. She closed her eyes again, tight. A word kept echoing in her
mind. The same word that came to her when she first saw herself, FREAK!

Katherin did indeed give her a Mohawk cut, but on her it made her look like
some stupid punk rock freak chic. 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 was how much Katherin love it. And of course if
Katherin like it then she had to like it too, or at least pretend the best
she could that she did.

More humiliating memories flooded her mind. How she was told by Katherin to
stand and display herself in full view of the window, Paul and all those
other anonymous voyeurs needed 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 bad she felt. Her future rested on her
talents as an actress to play a most difficult part to a successful
outcome. Besides, Katherin would be very disappointed in her if she failed.
And considering all the time, effort and how much of her own credibility
was on the line, that made it another viable reason for her to carry out
this humiliating charade to the end. So once again, she fell back on her
mantra for inner strength. 'I am Beth Jenson, a viable and free
heterosexual woman. I am doing this for a better life and this too will
soon be over.'

Her eyes remained close as her lips moved in sync with those words. Beth
remained silent, still strapped to the pole and still alone in the great
room, waiting, and remembering.

'I am Beth Jenson, a viable and free heterosexual woman. I am doing this
for a better life and this will soon be over.' Over and over she repeated
those words to herself while Katherin told her to fix one pose after the
other. Just like in the Katherin's office at lunch time Beth moved like a
puppet to Katherin's verbal tug on her control strings. But this time
Katherin took pictures of her. Lots of pictures of her Mohawk pet in the
most photogenic and pornographic ways possible.

Beth felt like a toy doll in Katherin's hands. She smiled, pouted, danced
and held her pose quickly on command. She even remembered being ordered to
fold her arms out in front of her and then sit on a table facing the window
like an American Indian. Her new Mohawk hair cut, big bare breasts and wide
shaven pussy in full unobstructed view for Paul and anyone else who
happened to be looking at her from all those apartments on the other side
of the window.

She remembered hearing the click, click, click of the camera's shutter as
Katherin took picture after picture after picture of her sexy poses. Poses
with her mouth open, eyes closed and her head tilted back in ecstasy. Poses
with one hand on her bald spot while the other was busy playing with her
breasts, nipples and wet pussy. Each picture taken was a record of her
erotic satisfaction of what Katherin had done to her. And Beth made herself
look like she enjoyed it too. Even when Katherin told her to get down on
her knees, bow her head and kiss her shiny white shoes. Once more, the
camera clicked on, another tender moment between Mistress and slave
captured for prosperity on color film. But without the audible
accompaniment of 'I am Beth Jenson, a viable and free heterosexual woman. I
am doing this for a better life and this will soon be over.'

It was all so obvious too. Even to the most causal observer that the tears
flowing down her cheeks were tears of love and joy for being turned into
some freak of a long lost culture. Obvious to all except Beth. Her inner
self felt so incredible degraded by her public display of self debasement
that the silent flowing tears was all she could do to show how hurt she was
with her outrageous disfigurement of her most feminine pride and joy. Beth
thought, in hindsight, how funny it was that those same flowing tears could
have two different meaning.

After many pictures later a smiling Katherin ordered Beth back into the
chair so she could finish what she started. Again, she obeyed her Mistress
promptly and took her place in the chair staring at the image of herself in
the mirror. A "self" that was slowly dissolving away with each pass of the
clippers and Katherin's skill as a barber.

Finally, it was all over. Her reflected image burned deep into her mind.
She looked so different now. So cold. So sterile. Even her ever present
wide beautiful smile looked so faked now, just like the rest of her doll
like plastic features. Katherin became so lost in her barber persona that
she even shaved off Beth's eye brows. The final act to Katherin's bizarre
transformation of Beth occurred when she rubbed a little oil into her bare
scalp to give it that lustering shiny glow.

Of all Beth's nightmarish memories, there was only one good one that stood
out amongst all the bad. It happened right after Katherin kissed her on top
of her bald head. She lowered herself to Beth's ear and whispered the
following words to her.

"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 following 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 want to say
thank you Beth. Thank you ever so much for being the woman that I know you
could be." and then Katherin kissed her on the cheek.

Beth's stoic appearance just melted away. She turned and hugged Katherin
for all she was worth. Never, not even in her wildest dreams, could she
have hoped to receiver such glowing praise from someone of such impeccable
character and anointed status as Katherin.

Again, to the casual observer, and Paul, Katherin and Beth made a very
strange lesbian couple about now. One woman seemed to be showing a deep and
touching appreciation for being turned into some bald headed kinky sex doll
by the other. But in fact, at that moment, objectification was the last
thing that existed between the two women.

Oh yes, Beth remembered the circumstance under which she lost her hair.
And of sharp contrast she and Katherin made from that point on. Katherin,
the warm erotic seductress of unique talents and tastes. And her, oh yes
HER! The generic term suited Beth well now, HER, and DOLL, and SEX TOY!
All those words used to description someone, someTHING, of a nondescript
form and structure, just like the term "generic female", to which even Beth
began to see herself as.

Even though there was that one tender shared moment of warm loving
admiration between herself and Katherin, she still had to look at herself
in the mirror. An unique "self" that she was finding harder and harder to
see any more. And what she did see was someone who was ghastly approaching
what she saw in that jail cell with Tonya -- THING!

Oh yes, she will be glad when this was all over with and in California with
Katherin. Once there, she will wear a wig while her own hair grew back. To
begin her new life as a corporate executive, her dream come true, it would
have all been worth it, And soon it will be nothing more than a very bad
dream.

Beth tried to take a deep breath, but the straps that constrict her torso
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.
Especially with what she did to her all this morning to prepare her for
her new role as serving wench before tonight's bonding ceremony. Beth
wondered if her butt cheeks were still as red as they felt.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 9 coming . . . well, as soon as I can. Sorry for the delay.

Beth gets a crash course in becoming a serving wench for the going away
party via Tonya's fine tutelage.