The Long Embrace of Change

The Long Embrace of Change

 

Part IV

 

I fumbled with the keys as I unlocked the door to my flat.  Eventually, I got the door open and I rushed in.  I nearly dropped the bags I was carrying as I did so.

 

I’m not sure when I made my decision.  In fact, it wasn’t even clear, deep in the deepest hollow of my mind, that the decision was mine at all.  My ears felt as if I should be hearing a faint noise, but I couldn’t really hear anything.  Once the decision was made, it became a mission.  It had to be done.  There were things I just had to buy right away and use that very day.  Nothing would stop me.  So I turned around and went to the store.  Now I was home again.

 

I lined up what I’d just bought around my bathroom sink – a new set of electric hair clippers, a new razor (one of the type used by women to shave their legs in the bath), a satchel of bath crystals, and a couple of red candles that smelled like roses. 

 

I took off my clothes and looked in the mirror.  My clothes didn’t fit very well anymore – I’d been going to the gym, and for the past two weeks my breakfasts and lunches consisted of weight-loss shakes, supplemented with my morning pills.  My waist was much flatter and firmer than before.  I wasn’t doing weights, so I wasn’t sure why my chest looked a bit larger, but I didn’t really mind.  In fact, I liked the way it looked.  And now that the nipple piercings had more or less healed, my chest felt really good.  This was especially true when I gently fingered the rings, making my nipples – and often my cock – erect. 

 

I turned out the lights and lit the candles.  The bathroom didn’t have a window, so the room was lit only by the warm glow of the rose-scented candles.  I put on some music – Beethoven piano sonatas – and started the bath.  I put some of the fragrant bath crystals in the filling bathtub.  And, while the bath was pouring, I took out the clippers.

 

There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation in my actions.  I turned the clippers on and ran them up and down my arms, chest, armpits, and legs.  I stood with my back to the mirror, looking over my shoulder, as I ran the clippers over my shoulders and back.  Finally, I pressed them against my butt and sheared off the hair on my ass.

 

I was already half-hard by the time I got home, but I was at full attention now.  Clumps of dark, wiry hair tumbled the ground.  The cold, vibrating blades felt good against my body. 

 

My body was being stripped of its hair!  I couldn’t remember ever wanting to do this, but I worked as though my whole life had been meant for this one moment – as though I wanted this more than anything else in the world.

 

And then it was time for my crotch.  I hesitated for just a moment – long enough to enjoy the feeling of the clippers in my hand – and then dove them into my pubic hair.  Before long, I had removed everything but a little inverted-triangle patch right over my stiff cock.  Gently, I ran them along my cock’s shaft and, more gently still, my scrotum.  I trimmed the hair of my over-cock triangle down, but didn’t shave it off completely.

 

The vibration against my genitals was almost more than I could take.  I felt my hands begin to shake with anticipation, forcing me to slow down a bit.  Once or twice, I found myself holding the clippers against my balls just to enjoy the sensation.  Pre-cum began to drip from the tip of my penis. 

 

After a few moments, it was done.  I stood surrounded by the cloud of hair clipplings around my feet.  I was breathing heavily.

 

By now, the bath was full.  I stepped in.  The hot perfumed water soothed me.  I soaked for a few minutes and then smeared shaving foam all over my body.  Running the razor over my skin was as erotic as the clippers – I was familiar with the feeling of a razor blade against my face, but against skin that had never been shaved, it was more intense.  The newly-bare skin, exposed to the air for the first time since puberty, seemed extra-sensitive. 

 

I carefully shaved my cock and balls, making sure to leave sharp, crisp lines along the sides of the triangle.  My balls were engorged with cum and ached for release.  I left my ass for last, carefully shaving the hair from around my asshole.

 

Once I was fully shaved, I soaked in the bath for a while, enjoying the feeling of warm water against my nakedness – a nakedness greater than I’d felt since I was a child.

 

I remained stiff the whole time.  Finally I stood in the bathtub and rubbed myself to climax, spraying cum into the air above the water.  It was one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever felt.   

 

I soaked in the bath for a while after coming.  I really should have been drying off, getting dressed, and heading out to the lab – instead, I lazily stroked my bare skin with my fingertips, enjoying the glassy smoothness. 

 

After I got out of the tub, I gave myself a good, long look in the mirror.  I looked amazing.  I felt liberated, as though the body hair had been holding me back from…..well, from something I couldn’t really define.  My hands began stroking my body up and down.  It wasn’t long before the sight and feeling of my freshly-shaved body got me good and erect; as the last of the Beethoven sonatas finished, I came again.

 

I decided to go to the lab after all.  It was mid-day, but I could at least get some writing done.  But I had a hard time focusing on my work – between the memory of what I looked like, naked, no body hair, swelling chest bejeweled, and the way my clothes felt against my skin, my thoughts were elsewhere.  I could’t wait to get home and see what it would feel like to sleep naked without body hair.

 

On the way home, I took a detour to the same body piercing studio where I’d had my ears and nipples pierced before.  I’d decided to get a second set of piercings on my earlobes.  The same black-haired woman was working; the sides of her head had been shaved, giving her a short black mohawk, but little else had changed.  I signed the disclaimer form while she made a quick phone call (occasionally looking at me through the corner of her eye), and then I had my ears pierced again.

 

Just as I turned to leave, I felt compelled to stop.  The same weird sensation of hearing something I couldn’t hear hit me, and I turned around almost mechanically.  The piercer stood before me, putting something I couldn’t see in her pocket, and she said, “You will follow me.”

 

I did.  I don’t know why I did – I just did.

 

We went back to the room where my nipples had been pierced two months earlier.  She closed the door, looked at me, and said, “Strip.”

 

Again without hesitation, I pulled my clothes off, standing before her with my newly hairless body.

 

She looked at me up and down, then pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number.  “Yes, he’s shaved.  Did an acceptable job.  You want me to go with the PA?”  She nodded and put the phone down.

 

“Sit in the chair.”  I did so.

 

“You will relax.  You will not move.  You will not speak.  Is that clear?”  I nodded.

 

For some reason, I wasn’t getting aroused.  I should have been – the piercer was very attractive.  Was it the embarrassment of lying naked before a stranger?  Was it something in her voice?  I still don’t know, but I remained flaccid before her.

 

I even remained flaccid as her rubber-gloved hand picked up my penis.  Her other hand slipped a thin plastic tube a short way up my urethra, causing a strange burning sensation.  She then took a needle and pushed it into my penis just behind the head.  In a few seconds, a steel captive-bead ring had been threaded through the hole and out through my urethra.  I’d been pierced yet again.

 

It hurt, though not quite as badly as the nipples. 

 

“This will bleed a little tonight and tomorrow, so make sure you keep it clean.  You will also have to sit to pee from now on.  Is that clear?”  I nodded.  “You will always sit to pee from now on.  Get dressed.”

 

I’m not quite sure what happened after that.  I vaguely remember seeing her pull a long, brass tube from her pocket, but my next memory was of me walking home, trying not to let my underpants chafe my newly-pierced cock.

 

That night, sleeping was pure torture.  The feeling of the sheets against my hairless body was erotic.  This tended to make me erect, which caused the new piercing to hurt and bleed.  So I found myself lying naked, without sheets, just to keep myself from the agony of an orgasm.  And I dreaded having to use the toilet – the head of my dick burned furiously when I urinated – seated - for the first time.

 

Later on, the inner sense I’d been having on and off over the past few months – that my life was somehow changing course, and that someone else was helping chart the course – hit me again.  And I didn’t mind – didn’t mind at all.  That put the thought of the pain in my cock aside, and I dozed off.