| Subject: Felicity |
Author:
Blondie
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Date Posted: Thu, Jan 22 2004, 07:25pm
Felicity
While I was being put through my paces in the awful party dress, I noticed with a bit of trepidation that Julie was reaching for the dreaded bag again.
“Come with me, Blondie,” she instructed as she headed for the hallway leading to Becky’s bedroom. “Care to join us again, Felicity?”
I winced; my humiliation was bad enough, but somehow this precocious thirteen-year-old’s involvement added an extra edge to it.
“Yes, I’d love to,” the little imp responded. “But Julie, can I ask you for a favor?”
“What’s that?” wondered Julie, with a look of curiosity on her face.
“Um… if you could offer me this boon for my birthday…I’d really like to take Blondie back there by myself.”
I stiffened noticeably, which wasn’t lost on the girls.
“That way Blondie and I can get more acquainted with each other,” she teased while staring me down with a sly grin.
“Why, you little devil, you,” laughed Julie. “Well, sure, you can have your little birthday ‘boon,’ as you called it. I don’t know where you come up with these words. I think Blondie would LOVE to have you all to himself. Wouldn’t you, Blondie?”
I just stood there with a wretched look on my face. Everyone giggled.
“Oh yes, Blondie is just delighted. Now toddle along, you two. And take your time, enjoy yourselves.”
More giggles.
“And Blondie, I’m warning you, we’d better not hear anything about you being uncooperative. It’s Felicity’s birthday, and you’re to do anything she tells you to.”
“Come with me, Blondie,” said Felicity eagerly as she took me by the hand.
She took the bag from Julie with her free hand and led me down the hallway.
The next hour would prove to be nearly unbearable.
Felicity wasted no time once we entered the bedroom. She laid the bag on the bed and patted an area next to the bag, motioning for me to sit.
“Okay, sweetheart, let’s get you undressed. Have a seat up here.”
With extreme apprehension at what lay in store for me, I sat on the bed. My feet dangled above the floor, which facilitated the removal of my shoes. The devilish Felicity knelt on the floor and began the process by unbuckling the shoes. She spoke to me while she went about her task.
“Isn’t this great, Blondie, just the two of us? It’ll really give us a chance to get to know each other, don’t you think?”
I remained silent. The last thing I felt like doing during this god awful experience was engaging in conversation with this fiend. But she had other ideas. She stood up and pointed her index finger in my face.
“Now listen, Blondie, when I speak to you I expect the courtesy of a response. In case you haven’t noticed, there are two of us in this room, and I don’t plan on carrying on a monologue.”
Oh, this was really going to be hell, I remember thinking.
“Do you understand me?”
“Yes, I understand,” I said sullenly without looking at her.
She knelt back down and went to work on the shoes and socks. She picked up right where she left off.
“So tell me a little bit about yourself.”
Both shoes were off now, and she deliberately began rolling one of the anklets down my foot.
“Uh…uh…what do you want to know?”
I couldn’t believe I had to carry on this dialogue while being methodically stripped by a girl three years my junior.
“Oh, you know, what are your likes? Your dislikes? Pretty soon I’m going to be quite familiar with what you’ve got on the outside; I’d like to get to know you on the inside.”
She giggled to herself. One sock was removed and she started on the other one. I was miserable. I pushed myself to do her bidding.
“Um, I like sports. I like to play basketball…please, I can’t do this.”
She persisted.
“What kind of music do you like?”
I was barefoot now, and she took my hand to pull me up.
“Stand up, let’s get your dress off.”
I stood up, and felt her hand working the zipper down from the back of my neck.
“Answer me, sweetheart.”
“I like…rock and roll.”
“Oh, me, too! See, we have something in common. Do you like to dance?”
The zipper was all the way down now.
“Hold your arms up.”
I raised my arms above my head and she slowly started pulling the dress up.
“Keep talking to me, Blondie. Do you like to dance?”
“No, not really,” I replied despondently.
This was a lie; I actually didn’t mind dancing. I just had a feeling where she was going with this.
“That’s too bad. I’d love to see you dance for us in one of Julie’s outfits. It’s my birthday, do you think you can dance for me tonight?”
The prospect horrified me, but I had to be cooperative.
“We’ll see,” I said.
“Oh, that will be a treat. I’ll bet you’re a good dancer.”
She pulled the dress completely off, and left me standing there in the petticoat. She stepped in front of me and gazed at me, grinning widely.
“How delightful.”
I started blushing again; the emotion of embarrassment was taking over as each article of clothing was removed. Putting both hands on my shoulders, she eased the straps of the petticoat down my biceps, starting its leisurely descent.
“Tell me about your experience with my sister in her store at the mall.”
“W-what do you want to know?”
I was stalling; I really didn’t want to relive that humiliation, especially under these circumstances.
“Everything,” she answered fervently. “I’ve heard the story from Julie, but it would mean so much more coming from you.”
The petticoat was now at my waist, leaving me bare-chested. Felicity kneeled down to continue with matters at hand. She looked up at me expectantly, urging me to comply. I looked down to see the garment being pulled further down, exposing the frilly panties. Felicity had an impassioned look on her face; she was having the time of her young life.
“Um…well…um…they made me…”
”Who made you?” she interrupted.
“B-becky and Brenda…they made me go to Victoria’s Sec…please, you know the story.”
The petticoat was now bundled at my feet, its expanse of lace rising halfway up my shins. I folded both hands over the crotch of the panties; I felt my modesty being severely threatened.
“Continue!”
She was relentless.
“Th-they made me try on different stuff.”
I had trouble continuing this charade. Felicity was lifting one of my legs up and out of the petticoat.
“Tell me more, sweetie. Tell me what they made you try on.”
“A t-teddy…then a bra and p-p…”
I couldn’t say the word. At that moment, the petticoat was being pulled off of my other leg, leaving me standing there in…yes, a pair of panties. As Felicity stood up, she prodded me on.
“Go ahead, you tried on a bra and…?”
She tossed the petticoat on the bed and stood back and grinned wickedly at me.
“Panties,” I said, very quietly.
“Yes, Julie told me you looked quite darling, just like you do now. She said your face was fire engine red. Does your face feel as hot now as it did then, Blondie?”
She was the devil in disguise.
“Yes,” I answered as I looked at the floor, shame-faced.
“Go like this.”
She made two fists and put both hands on her hips, elbows pointing to the sides. I grudgingly followed suit. With a lecherous grin, she slowly did a three-sixty around me, ogling my pantied state. Somehow I turned yet a deeper shade of red while enduring this excruciating torment.
“Oh, Blondie, you look so delectable in your frilly little panties. But I’m afraid we’re going to have to take them off before I have you model your next outfit.”
She reached for the waistband of the panties, studying me intently. She got the reaction she wished for; I involuntarily retracted my hips, eliciting a knowing smile from her lips.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, I forgot how much you love your pretty panties. Well, there’s no hurry, you can contemplate your situation for a while. In the meantime, let’s find you something to wear.”
She opened the bag, and sorted through it.
“You know, this IS a slumber party, and you really should be dressed accordingly. Maybe a pair of pajamas is appropriate. We’ll call it a pajama party.”
Felicity proceeded to pull out a very feminine pair of silky, lavender colored pajamas. She held them up for me to see.
“Would you like to wear these, sweetie?”
I didn’t show much reaction; though, all things considered, it wouldn’t have been so bad. At least they offered a lot of coverage.
“They’re okay,” I replied.
“Or how about this?”
She pulled out a scanty pink, nylon babydoll and held it up to me. I observed uneasily that it would barely cover my modesty. Felicity sensed my apprehension; she was perceptive beyond her years.
“Okay, I’ll give you the choice: the pj’s or the babydoll. You pick it.”
I didn’t hesitate.
“The pj’s.”
I should have known better than to expect any compassion from this little monster.
“Oh, you silly boy,” she laughed as she returned the pajamas to the bag. “You’re quite the shy one, aren’t you? We don’t want to hide those pretty little girlish legs from all your guests, now, do we?”
She giggled to herself.
“Now, it’s time to relieve you of your panties. Hmm, how shall we accomplish this? Shall I take them down, or would you like to do it yourself?”
In retrospect, I should have just ripped the damn things off right on the spot, thus avoiding further anguish. But the idea of being naked against my will in front of this girl was more than I could handle at the time. I was hoping beyond hope to somehow avoid the humiliation.
“Please…” I pleaded.
“I get the distinct impression that you don’t want me to see you naked, Blondie.”
Felicity glared at me with a menacing smile. I didn’t respond.
“Why is that, Blondie?”
Again, I didn’t answer. That didn’t slow her down; she was thriving now, thoroughly enjoying my uneasiness.
“What’s the big deal? I’ve already looked down your panties and saw your little thingy, remember? I told you it looked just like my little brother Joey’s, except you have hair.”
I was blushing crimson now, and she went in for the kill.
“And the more you blush, the more fun I have. Why is that, Blondie?”
“Because you’re a fucking sadist!” I screamed at her without thinking.
Her face remained passive, but I knew I’d made a big mistake.
“You’ll be sorry you said that, Blondie. I’ll deal with your punishment before we go back out there, but for now I can tell you that if there are any more outbursts then I’ll have to inform the girls that you’re not cooperating. Would you like me to do that, Blondie?”
“No.”
Just then the doorbell rang.
“Oh no,” I remember thinking, “Who could that be?”
Felicity didn’t miss the look of dismay on my face.
“Oh boy, Blondie, it looks like you might have another visitor. We’d best get your panties off now and get you ready.”
With that she pulled out a stool from under the dresser and set it in the middle of the room.
“Step up here, sweetie, so I won’t have to bend down.”
At this point I knew I had no recourse. I climbed up on the stool, facing my antagonist. The top of her head was level with the hem of the panties. My feeling of vulnerability was extreme. My hands were covering the small bulge in the panties. Felicity grasped the hem on each side with her fingers, and held them there, teasing me.
“It’s time, Blondie; it’s the moment we’ve been waiting for. Isn’t this fun?”
I had no answer.
“I’m doing all the talking now, Blondie, and I don’t appreciate it. Now ask me very nicely to take down your panties.”
I was now wallowing in my state of wretchedness. Somehow I managed to spit out the words.
“Would you please take down my panties?”
“Why certainly, sweetheart,” she replied with pleasure in her voice. “Would you kindly put you hands behind your head and keep them there, please?
Defeated, I interlocked my fingers behind my head. My sense of dread was extreme. Felicity looked my up and down, grinning freely. She was ready to do the dirty deed.
“Okay, here we go, are you ready? On three: One… two…”
Then she stopped, and stepped back.
“I just had a wonderful idea, Blondie. It’s my birthday, right?”
I nodded glumly.
“Think about it: You’re just about to be in your birthday suit, right?”
Again I nodded, dreading what might be coming out of her mouth next.
“If you could sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me while your panties are coming down it would make the moment really special for me. Will you do that for me, Blondie?”
I nodded resignedly. What else could I do?
“Okay, whenever you’re ready…”
She approached me and again had her fingers on the hem of the panties. She looked up at me in expectation. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable. I closed my eyes tightly and began to sing.
“Happy birthday to you.”
I felt the panties begin their inexorable descent.
“A little slower, Blondie.”
I could tell by the excitement in her voice that she was really getting caught up in the moment.
“Happy birthday to you.”
The panties were now slipping past my penis. I heard Felicity giggle with delight. It was all I could do to keep my hands on my head.
“Happy birthday, dear Felicity.”
The panties were at my knees, beyond the point of no return. I opened my eyes to a squint and looked down at a girl who was nearly beside herself in ecstasy.
“Happy birthday to you.”
The panties were at my ankles. Felicity stepped back and clapped her hands in jubilation.
“Bravo, Blondie, bravo!”
Just then the door opened and Becky poked her head in. First her jaw dropped in astonishment at the unusual sight.
“Oh my GOD! Blondie, what is Felicity doing to you?!” she exclaimed.
Then, when the scene set in, her hands were at her mouth and she was overtaken by convulsive laughter. I could hold back no more, and I bent over from the waist, my elbows squeezing my sides and my hands clasped tightly over my crotch. I couldn’t imagine being more embarrassed than I was at that moment. My sister kept on laughing, unable to speak. Felicity had a triumphant grin on her face, quite proud of herself for creating such a spectacle.
Finally, after her laughter subsided enough so that she could articulate, Becky said, “I just thought I’d let you know, Mitch is here. He can’t WAIT to see you, Blondie.”
She paused to take in the horrified look on my face. She smiled and addressed Felicity.
“Take your time, birthday girl; don’t let us spoil your fun.”
With that she closed the door. Her laughter echoed through the hallway. Undoubtedly she was quite anxious to relay to her cohorts what she had just witnessed.
Felicity grinned wickedly at me for a few seconds. I stood there on the stool, still bent over at the waist. Without a word, she lifted one leg, then the other, freeing the panties from my feet. I was now completely naked and at her mercy. She dropped the panties on the floor and reached out for my hand.
“Come, sweetie, let’s chitchat over on the bed for a while.”
My torture at the hands of this cruel little girl was going to carry on. I took her hand, and she pulled me from the stool. My other hand still covered my groin as she led me to the bed.
“Up we go.”
She climbed onto the bed, pulling me with her. She situated us so that my back was to the door, and she was facing me. I was sitting with my legs off to my side, my hands still covering my modesty. I wondered what the hell she was up to.
“Come on, Blondie, let’s get comfortable. Spread your legs out.”
She leaned forward and grabbed both of my ankles, pulling them towards her. She spread them out, placing them on either side of her hips. Then she inched closer to me, placing her legs over my thighs. Her clothed torso was now no more a foot or so from my naked one. She held out her hands.
“Give me your hands,” she requested.
Actually, it wasn’t a request. I had to submit. I hesitated, then lifted my hands into hers. She held my hands and rested them on the bed, outside of my knees. I was now fully exposed, which, of course, was her intent. I involuntarily tried to squeeze my thighs together, but was inhibited by her hips. She looked between my legs and smiled.
“Tell me about Mitch.”
I flinched, which did not go unnoticed. She pounced on the moment.
“I hear he likes boys. Is that true?”
She waited for my response.
“Y-yes, I think that’s true.”
“I hear he likes you, Blondie.”
I didn’t reply.
“Does he like you, Blondie?”
“Please, I don’t know…”
“Come on, Blondie, don’t hold back. That’s why he’s here tonight, isn’t it, to see you?”
I couldn’t answer. She motioned to the babydoll that was draped over a chair by the bed.
“Mitch will be all excited to see you in that, won’t he, Blondie?”
“Please…”
“Or maybe you can go out just like you are. Would you like to do that?”
“No!”
My head shot up and Felicity smiled at my quick exclamation.
“Okay, relax, sweetheart, you can wear the babydoll. Would you like to wear the babydoll?”
The evil little thing was ruthless. I nodded.
“Tell me, Blondie, what do you want to wear when we go out there.”
“The babydoll.”
“Say, ‘Please, Felicity, may I wear the babydoll for Mitch?’”
It was becoming excruciating.
“P-Please, Felicity, may I wear the babydoll for Mitch?”
“Why of course you can, darling. Mitch will be very excited to see you in your sexy babydoll.”
She grinned at me, then looked down at my legs.
“It’ll really show off your pretty legs.”
She let go of my left hand and stroked my leg.
“He’s going to love your smooth, slender legs. Don’t you think so, Blondie?”
“Oh, God, please, no…”
She continued stroking my leg, and ventured up to the top of my thigh. Under these humiliating circumstances, I felt no sexual pleasure at all.
“How did your legs get so smooth, Blondie? Did you shave them?”
“No…I, uh…please, I’d rather not talk about it.”
She lifted my right arm and stoked it up and down with her other hand.
“And you have such smooth, girlie arms. Pretty, pretty.”
I fidgeted; I was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable, and she knew it. She lifted my arm high in the air and zeroed in on my hairless armpit.
“And your underarms are nice and smooth, too.”
She lowered my arm and looked me right in the eyes.
“Tell me how you got so pretty, Blondie.”
“B-becky and Brenda did it to me this afternoon.”
“Oh, and a wonderful job they did.”
She looked at my pubic hair.
“Why did they leave your hair down there?”
I didn’t answer.
“Shall we get rid of it now?”
“NO!” I cried, my eyes widening in horror.
That was probably a fatal mistake; I could tell by the smile on her face that she knew she had struck a nerve. She left it alone at the time, but I had a haunting feeling she would revisit it. Again she looked at my exposed genitals.
“Don’t you think you’re a little small down there for a sixteen-year-old?”
I fidgeted some more, much to her delight. She knew which buttons to push.
“I told you about Joey, my ten-year-old brother. I saw his little thing the other day, and yours is as small as his.”
That was at least the third time she had reminded me of this unpleasant piece of information.
“Aren’t you embarrassed when you have to shower after gym class? I’ll bet all the other boys make jokes about your little peenie. Oh, you’re really blushing now, Blondie, it must be true.”
I just sat there, unable to speak, my face on fire.
“Talk to me, Blondie; I’m monopolizing the conversation again.”
She was holding my hands again. She squeezed them and bounced them off the bed, pushing for an answer.
“I-I don’t know if they joke.”
“Have you ever measured yourself down there? It can’t be more than a couple of inches.”
“No…please.”
I was looking off to my right, staring at the floor, unable to make eye contact with this little devil.
“Look at me, Blondie.”
I forced myself to look. Her eyes were dancing with delight.
“Aren’t you embarrassed to show the other boys your little pee pee?”
“I don’t know…please, can we talk about something else?”
“Tell me the story about the auditorium.”
I probably would have been more comfortable talking about my penis.
“What story?”
I’m sure that my body language belied my feigned ignorance.
“You know, when Mitch and Marcia made you strip during the play. Julie told me, and she heard it second hand. I’d like to hear it from you.”
“Th-they made me take my clothes off. That’s it.”
“You mean you were naked with all those people in the auditorium?”
I nodded.
“But it was dark,” I said.
“I heard something about a flashlight. Didn’t Marcia make you shine the flashlight on your little pee pee?”
“Yes.”
I was speaking softly and again staring at the floor.
“Ooh, I wish I could have been there, it sounds delicious. Weren’t you just freaking out?”
“It wasn’t fun. There, you know the story.”
“The story goes that you didn’t have any hair down there back then. Is that true, Blondie, was the light shining on your hairless little weenie?”
“I don’t remember,” I lied (it was true).
She pointed between my legs.
“Shall we remove that unsightly hair before we go out there, sweetie?”
My startled reaction played right into her hands.
“Ah, I think we’ve struck a nerve, haven’t we, Blondie? Well you know, I don’t have any hair on my privates, so it’s only fair that you don’t, either.”
She paused, eyeing me for a reaction. There was none; I was still stunned by the latest turn in the conversation.
“Doesn’t that surprise you, Blondie? After all, I’m thirteen now. Most girls have reached puberty long before that. Not I. Physically, I have the body of an eleven-year-old, but emotionally I’m probably right at my age. And I’ve been told that intellectually I’m as smart as a lot of college students.”
I was in no mood to listen to her self-assessment. And the fact that she had the body of an eleven-year-old somehow only made my abject submission to her that much more humiliating. Which, now that I think about it, is probably the reason she was telling me all this. Like I said before, she was perceptive well beyond her years.
In any case, I had to try to appeal to her, hoping she had at least one ounce of compassion.
“Felicity, I’m begging you, please, PLEASE let me keep my pubic hair. I’ll do anything, but please don’t do that to me.”
She smiled, both at my anxiety and the “I’ll do anything” remark. Certainly there was a tacit understanding that this was the case regardless of whether she spared my pubic hair or not.
“Let’s see now, refresh my memory, sweetie, what was it you called me earlier?”
At that moment I knew there would be no mercy. I lowered my head in gloom.
“Something about a sadist…tell me, what exactly was it you said?”
“A fucking sadist,” I replied softly.
“Yes, that was it. You really shouldn’t have said that, Blondie. Here I’ve been so nice to you, dressing you up and helping you find your feminine side, and this is the gratitude I get.”
She shook her head for effect, as if she was really disappointed with me. Then she got up on her knees and pulled me from the bed.
“Now be a real sweetie and help me find a pair of scissors.”
She started rummaging through the nightstand drawer. I stood there, stunned at what was about to take place.
“Well don’t just stand there, check the dresser.”
I slowly walked over to the dresser, unbelieving at what was transpiring. Here I was, naked, helping my tormentor find scissors so she could cut off my pubic hair. I went through the motions, opening the top drawer. As luck (or lack of it) would have it, the first thing I saw was a small pair of scissors. Desperately, I picked them up, hoping to hide them under the bed.
“Good boy, Blondie!” shrieked Felicity, sneaking up on me.
I almost jumped out of my skin from the scare. Felicity took the scissors from my hand, held them up to eye level and opened and closed the blades a couple of times for effect. Just the sound had me backing up in apprehension.
“Yes, these ought to do the trick just fine,” she said while looking at my crotch with a fiendish grin.
I dropped to my knees and clasped my hands together in a classic pose of desperate entreaty. I’m sure it looked quite dramatic.
“Please, Felicity, I’m begging you one last time…”
“Oh, for crying out loud, how pathetic.”
She grabbed a few strands from the hair on my head and acted as if she was about to cut them off.
“Okay, then, we’ll just start right here and work our way down.”
“Okay! Okay!” I cried, while standing up.
She looked down at her target, then paused, putting her fingers to her chin, as if deep in thought. This, I knew, could not bode well for me.
“Let’s have some fun with this, Blondie,” she said, eyes widening as if a light just went on in her head. “You did so well singing ‘Happy Birthday.’ I’ve got another song for you. Are you familiar with ‘Old MacDonald Had a Farm?’”
I nodded wretchedly. My stomach was in knots.
“Great! We’ll use the same tune, but we’ll plug in our own lyrics. Let me think…”
She paused for a few seconds while I stood there, wishing for death.
“I know! It goes like this: ‘Pretty Blondie had no hair, ee-eye-ee-eye-oh. With a snip-snip here, and a snip-snip there, here a snip, there a snip, everywhere a snip-snip, pretty Blondie had no hair, ee-eye-ee-eye-oh.’ Now the beauty of this is [I must tell the reader that she had a maniacal look in her eye at this point; it was downright scary] that every time you say the word ‘snip’ I snip off a little bit of your hair. So basically, you’ll control the tempo of the snipping with your singing. The more you sing, the less hair you’ll have down there. God, I just marvel at my own creativity sometimes! Okay, anytime you’re ready, sweetheart. Do you want to practice before we do the real thing?”
I shook my head sullenly. She inched closer to me, her weapon at the ready.
“Oh, do me a little favor, sweetie, and hold your little pee pee down and out of the way. I’d hate to miss and snip the little thing off, know what I mean?”
She laughed aloud, obviously quite amused with herself. I pushed down my penis with my left hand; I certainly didn’t need any “accident” to add to my suffering. There was silence for a few seconds. Felicity stood by anxiously.
“Anytime now, Blondie.”
“Blondie, Blondie, had…”
“No, no, it’s PRETTY Blondie. Now start over.”
She was really wired up now.
“Pretty Blondie had no hair, ee-eye-ee-eye-oh. With a…”
I hesitated, momentarily unable to continue. Felicity gave me a look of admonition.
“With a snip-snip here…”
I winced as I watched a small amount of my precious pubes gravitate unfettered to the carpet.
“And a snip-snip there, here a snip, there a snip, everywhere a snip-snip…”
A total of eight snips of the scissors coincided with my less-than-mellifluous intonations. My voice cracked through the last part, as I struggled to maintain my composure.
“Pretty Blondie had no hair, ee-eye-ee-eye-oh.”
Felicity actually hopped up and down with joy.
“Excellent, Blondie. Excellent!”
I looked down to assess the damage. I could see the difference, but it wasn’t huge. The little devil was cutting off oh, so little at a time, to prolong my agony, or, more likely, her entertainment.
“Let’s do it again!”
Again I sang the sordid song, and again eight more snips were taken from my pubic hair.
“Let’s do it again!”
The child in her was coming out; she was captivated with her little game. After the third verse, there was a noticeable degree of hair loss. The feeling of despair was momentarily overshadowing my embarrassment. Felicity handed me the scissors.
“Now you do the snipping, Blondie, while I sing. You’ll see, it’s really fun!”
She gave me no time to argue.
“Pretty Blondie had no hair, ee-eye-ee-eye-oh. With a snip-snip here…”
She sang on, and, with incredulity, I snipped away. She put her head down close to the action, and emphasized the word ‘snip’ each time she sang it, laughing as she watched my hair slowly disappear. At the end of her verse, she again jumped up and down feverishly, clapping her hands. I was starting to think that she was positively deranged. But she knew exactly what she was doing.
“Okay, my turn, hold your little wee wee out of the way, and start singing,” she said as she took the scissors in her hand again. “Tell you what let’s do, Blondie, let’s take turns, until there’s nothing left.”
And so we did. We passed the scissors back and forth seven or eight times, trading off singing the dreadful song until there was nothing left to cut.
Felicity was the last to have the scissors. She placed them on the dresser, then scrutinized the fruits of her labor. There was still some stubble remaining, and she wrinkled her face. She grabbed my elbow and led me towards the bathroom.
“We have to finish the job, sweetie.”
She proceeded to turn on the hot water, holding a facecloth underneath the faucet.
“I’ve seen my daddy soften his beard with hot water. This will make it easier.”
She then found Becky’s razor and some shaving cream in the bathtub and handed it to me.
“Here, you have to do it, I don’t want to touch it.”
She paused.
“Unless you want me to get Mitch in here to do it for you.”
She laughed at herself while she handed me the hot, wet facecloth.
“Here, hold this over that stuff you have left for a couple of minutes. And I see you’ve got a few hairs on your little balls; wrap the cloth around those, too.”
She was making sure that I would be totally denuded. Under her supervision, I shaved off the last vestiges of my bodily hair. She handed me a towel, and I dried myself off. Self-consciously, I covered myself with my hands.
“Put your hands behind your back, let me see,” she ordered, all too eagerly.
I did.
“Now it looks just like Joey’s.”
My face flushed yet again, and again the little girl laughed joyously.
“Come, let’s have a look in the mirror.”
She took me by the hand and led me to the full-length mirror. She stood next to me and we both looked at the reflection.
“Go like this.”
She put her arms above her head, holding her left elbow with her right hand, and her right elbow with her left hand. I followed suit and was taken aback by the sight of an apparently prepubescent sixteen-year-old boy. I wanted to cry, but I was beyond tears.
“You look like a little boy, Blondie! How does it feel to have no hair?”
I didn’t answer. I just stood there, staring at the mirror in disbelief, drinking the full cup of degradation. Felicity brought me out of my stupor when she pulled the pink babydoll over my head.
“See, I promised I’d let you wear this.”
It had short, fluffy sleeves, and the lacy hem dropped just below my balls in the front, and barely covered my ass in the back.
“It’s too short, Felicity, can you find something else?” I pleaded.
I nervously tried to pull it down further, but there was no give.
“Nonsense, sweetheart, it’s perfect. I know it seems short, but I’ll tell you what—I won’t make you put on panties, since I know your panties would show.”
Then it hit me. The girls, and even worse, Mitch, could easily get an eyeful if I wasn’t careful. I couldn’t believe I was about to say what I was about to say.
“Can I please wear some panties?”
I cringed at how that sounded. Felicity laughed.
“Oh, sweetie, what a good girl you’ve become. Turn around, let me show you something.”
I turned around, my back to the mirror.
“Now turn your head and look in the mirror.”
When I did, Felicity lifted the babydoll halfway up my back, exposing my bare ass.
“If you wear panties then Mitch won’t be able to see your cute little fanny.”
I blushed yet deeper, and Felicity afforded herself yet another hearty laugh.
My feeling of humiliation was surpassed only by my sense of dread.
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