textfiles/sex/EROTICA/S/shave.txt

Shave and a Spanking  by  Lucy Blue
Fetish Bazarre  Vol 1  #9  MM36

Successful older gentleman wanted to 
spank Naughty girl.  Busty, slim blonde 
19 needs waywardness checked by 
grandfather figure.  Only 65+ SWM need 
apply.

That was the ad.  That should do it.  That should attract some 
horny old fool with gobs of dough.  All I had to do was place the ad in 
the Independent under Personals/ Women Seeking Men, then just sit 
back and take my choice.  

The Independent was a good place for my ad.  It was absolutely 
non-typical.  My ad would stand out from all the others.  All those: 
SWF Intelligent, Outgoing, looks for SWM Tall Handsome to share 
life's great ride.  Or some such crap.  That only bored men to tears.  

My ad would catch someone's eye, tickle some old guy's 
imagination.  They'd pant with desire at the mere thought of brushing 
their arthritic palms over my soft warm posterior.  

Now, don't get the wrong idea.  That ad might sound like I'm 
some kind of dumb sick-o pain freak, but I'm not.  I'm just incredibly 
understanding and fair.  I figure if I'm going to wheedle as much 
money as possible from some old coot, he has to be put in a situation 
where his guilty conscience makes him fork over dough in retribution 
for his kinky needs.  

Besides, I'm talking about an old man here, not some young stud.  
And though I advertise that I'm slim, I'm also pretty athletic.  I don't 
think I'll have any problem.  I'll just choose a frail one with deep 
pockets.  And it better be soon.  I'm down to my last hundred bucks 
and I just got kicked out of my apartment.





The first guy I met with was 68 years old and I swear he'd spent 
his entire life in Gold's gym.  He was also a misogynist.  Just talking to 
this guy over coffee, I could tell he outright hated women and wanted 
to beat the crap out of them.  I politely backed off, saying he didn't 
look one bit like my grandfather.  

The second guy was creepy: greasy hair, ratty nose and smelled 
like he kept dead things in his pockets.  I told him I was looking for 
someone a little older.  

The third one sounded perfect.  When I phoned him, he asked if I 
wouldn't mind coming to his place.  He was house bound in a 
wheelchair and didn't get out much.  He gave me the directions to a 
nice little posh community on the edge of town.  I ran all the way over, 
not believing my luck.  

An old dude confined to a wheelchair living in a high rent district.  
I knocked on the door of a cute little gingerbread house surrounded 
by a manicured lawn and a white picket fence.  There was no answer 
so I knocked again.  

"Door's open," I heard a faraway voice bellow.  "Let yourself 
in."

I opened the door to a long hallway and stepped inside.  

"Come all the way to the back," the voice called.  "To the 
sunroom."  I walked to the sunlit room at the end of the hall, poked 
my head in and looked around.  No one was there.  I went across the 
room to the windows and looked out.  When I heard a whirring.  I 
spun around.  

Filling the doorway was a man in a motorized wheelchair.  The 
man looked to be in his sixties with sharp blue eyes, smooth face and 
a gleaming bald head.  It was his body that was weird, though.  Legs 
dangled from a plaid coverlet draped across the seat of the chair.  
They looked withered and useless.  

Above an upper torso sprang tall and vibrant with muscle bound 
arms and chest.  It looked like two different bodies had gotten 
slapped together.  I barely stifled my laugh.

"So, you're the little girl who needs her fanny tanned."  His 
words were so quaint and archaic, I couldn't help myself.  I snickered 
right out loud.  

The motorized wheelchair came to life.  It lunged at me then 
stopped.  Like some spastic robot, the wheels rolled, then stopped, 
swiveled, then lurched the chair forward again.  The mechanical 
contraption corralled me into a corner.  

"Hide your face for acting so shameful."  My mouth dropped.  I 
was dumfounded.  All I could do was gawk at the man.  Huge hands 
grabbed my middle and spun me around.  He pulled my tight skirt 
above my waist and then he yanked my panties below my ass.  

"Plant your hands on the wall."  He pushed me off balance; my 
hands grabbed for support.  "Point your fanny out to me."  A thick 
hand pushed my stomach until I thrust out my ass.  He smacked me a 
good one with the flat of his hand.  Then another.  Then another.  I 
braced against the corner of the wall as he assaulted my ass.  The 
spanking was quick and sharp.  But his hand started to smart before 
my muscular ass did.    

"Face me."  I turned around, starting to pull up my panties.  Fast 
hands grabbed my wrists.  "Leave them."  The old guy glared at me.  
"Apologize for your rudeness."

"I, uh . . . ," I didn't quite know what to say.  "I'm sorry," I 
mumbled.

"You're painfully short on manners, little girl.  What's all this 
about?  Why do you advertise to get your hide tanned?"

"Well, I thought this could be something mutually beneficial to us 
both.  Anyone who answers this sort of ad must have a .  .  . unusual 
need to fill.  I thought I could provide it."

"Poppycock!  What do you expect to get out of it?" 

"Like I said in the ad, I can get a little wayward at times and I 
thought if you had a need to . . ." 

Large hands encircled my waist.  In a flash, I was flung over the 
spindly knees.  The wheelchair moved.  My feet were lodged against 
the wall.  My skirt yanked up over my head, my panties jerked down 
to my ankles. 

"You are so full of bushwa."  A leather slipper was pulled from 
his dangling foot.  "Weren't you taught not to lie?"  Whap!  The 
leather slipper whacked my butt.  "What are you getting out of this?  
Answer me." The blows were rapid now.  

"I just need a little bit to help defray the cost," I sputtered.

The leather slipper felt like a strap.  My ass quivered between the 
blows.

"You're selling it.  You're after money."  I tried to kick out, but 
my entangled panties and the wall prevented it.  

"I thought I should get recompensed."

"You're not a naughty girl that need spanking.  You're an outright 
cheat.  And a liar."  The paddling continued.  It stung like crazy.  His 
left hand reached out.  He grabbed one of my thumbs, then the other.  
He pulled my hands up by my thumbs and brought them over my 
head.  His forearm wedged into the back of my neck.  

"I'll keep up the whipping `til I hear the truth."  

I was beginning to ache as well as smart.  "Alright.  Alright."  

My butt felt like it swelled to a three foot wide quivering mass of 
flesh.  "Yes!  Yes!"  I screamed.  "I'm doing this for money.  I just 
got kicked out of my apartment." 

 The more I cried out, the harder the wallops came.  I started to 
shake.  My guts poured out.  "I got nowhere to go.  I got no money."

"Keep talking."

"I thought an old rich guy would be easy to get dough from.  
Especially if he's doing something sleazy to me."  The paddling 
stopped.  The wheelchair pulled from the corner.  

I was pushed from his lap, dumped to the floor.  My raw aching 
butt touched the wool carpet.  I jumped to my feet.  The wool fibers 
brushing my tender skin itched like the pox.  The old man cackled 
when I jumped in the air.  

"Stings, don't it?"  Then his face went stony calm.  He pointed to 
the carpet.  "Sit."  The voice was mean and cold.  

I sat back down.  My naked, raw ass was immersed in thick 
shaggy, itchy wool.  My tight leather skirt was stretched up over my 
tits.  My bikini panties still tethered my ankles.  I didn't dare move.  
That motorized thing would be on me in a flash.

"So you thought you'd scam some old coot out of his pension.  
All for the privilege of womping your hiney.  You're not naughty.  
You're bad.  A bad little girl." 

The wheelchair rolled forward looming over me.  The man 
reached down and ripped off my tube top.  Unbuttoning my skirt, he 
jerked it up over one tit then the other.  It was tossed aside.  Except 
for the panties bound round my ankles I was naked on the wool rug, 
my ass starting to weep.  The sharp eagle-eyes glared down on me.  

"So the bad little girl comes to Pappy.  With no money.  And no 
place to stay.  How old are you, bad little girl?"

"I'm 19."  Strong arms lifted me.  Again, I was turned over his 
knee.

"Why you're just a baby!"  A thick calloused hand hovered a 
hair's breadth from my ass.  My ass started to quiver.

"Pappy's going to have to be strict with this baby or she'll grow 
up to be a very bad girl."  He slapped my ass.  It was so sore, I cried 
out.

"No!" he said as he spanked me again.  "Such a bad Baby."  
His right hand rubbed my aching ass while his left hand snaked 
between my legs.  A feathery touch brushed my clit.  He soothed my 
fiery ass with his rough right palm, abruptly stop, then smacked me 
sharp.  

"Bad Baby!"

He did it again: rub, stop, smack.  "Bad Baby."  Rub, stop, 
smack, "Bad Baby." 

All the while his left middle finger worked my clit.  Then a very 
strange thing happened.  I started getting off on it.  I got real hot 
draped over this old man's lap while my ass was rubbed, then 
spanked and I was called a Bad Baby.  

My tension soared, then mounted.  Suddenly, I blew.  What an 
orgasm!  I never heard myself wail so loud and so long.  The old man 
slid me from his lap.  I knelt on the floor beside the wheelchair.  

"Sounds like Baby's crying to be fed."  He pushed aside his lap 
blanket and unbuttoned his pants.  A stiff turgid cock popped up.  He 
pushed my head forward until my lips touched his cock.  "Suck that, 
Baby."  

Wallowing in my tremendous afterglow, I opened my mouth and 
blissfully sucked.  His hand pinched my aching ass as I suckled.  He 
shoved his cock past my lips and deep into my mouth.  

"Keep feeding, Baby."  I guzzled his penis as if it held the milk of 
life.  I was greedy, anxious for it all.  My throat opened and took his 
cock.

"Oh!" he groaned.  "Good Baby."  I swallowed, gulping over 
and over.  He gasped, then stiffened.  Suddenly, he roared.  Like an 
old lion calling his pride, he roared.  I sucked up his juice, every bit of 
it.  

When it was gone, I licked his balls and cock clean with my 
tongue.  Before he leaned his head back and fell to sleep, he placed 
his hand on my head and smiled.  "Pappy will train you to be a very 
good Baby."  I curled up in a ball and fell asleep at Pappy's feet.  





I've been living with Pappy six months now.  Everything's going 
pretty good.  Pappy can be unbelievably old-fashioned but I have 
gotten used to it.  After all, Pappy pays all the bills and I live rent free 
so I really can't complain.  The old guy buys only what he sees fit.  So 
my choices are pretty limited.  It's really just the make-up and clothes 
that bug me.  There are none.  

Well, there are clothes.  But Pappy only buys me T-shirts, round 
toed flat sandals and Osh Kosh overalls.  Make-up he refuses to buy.  

My old clothes and make-up are all gone now.  I came here with 
only what was on my back.  The superintendent confiscated all my 
other stuff in payment for back rent when he tossed me out of my 
apartment.  

Pappy never gives me any money of my own.  He says I'm too 
young to handle it.  One Saturday a door-to-door cosmetics 
saleswoman rang the doorbell.  Pappy was asleep, so I let her in.  
When she hit me with the sales pitch for a complete make-over on the 
spot, I caved in.  What a kick, I thought.  Make-up delivered right to 
my door.  What a surprise for Pappy!

She seated me in a kitchen chair.  Her lotions, brochures, make-
up and mirror were all over the kitchen table.  I was seeing how to 
feather the deep shade of the eyeshadow into the subdued shade of 
the accent color, when Pappy, on his motorized behemoth, burst into 
the room.  I guess our loud giggling woke him up.  

"Get out of my house!"

"Good morning, sir.  Are you the gentleman who . . ."

Pappy's wheelchair swarmed to the table.  His arm swept all the 
woman's articles into her briefcase.  "Now!"  

He herded her out the door.  I knew I was in trouble when the 
sample case was hurled after her.  He slammed the kitchen door and 
swiveled around to me.  

"Get that filth off.  All of it.  Then come back here and show me."

"Pappy, I did it as a surprise.  I thought you'd like it."

"Go, you soiled, filthy child.  Purge yourself clean."  I ran from 
the room.  There was no sense in discussion when he was in that 
mood.  In the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror.  

Not bad.  I liked the grey eye shadow blending to pink.  It set off 
my blue eyes nicely.  The nectarine rose of the blush and lipstick were 
perfect for a blonde.  I looked at myself one last time then bent over 
the basin and scrubbed my face.  Oh, well.  I knew I would get 
spanked for this but it was worth it.  

It's much more fun getting a whipping for something you know is 
wrong, and then doing it anyway.  I dried my face and opened the 
bathroom door.  Pappy had posted himself outside.

"Bend your face down to me, Baby."  He reached up, grabbing 
my chin with his vice-like grip.  He examined one side of my face, 
turned my head and examined the other.  He pointed towards the 
bathroom.  

"March!"  I let out a sigh and walked back in.  What trace of 
powder did I miss?  The wheelchair followed me into the bathroom.  
The door was shut behind it and locked.

"Okay, Baby.  Drop `em."

"What?"

"Strip, Baby.  Right now."

"Pappy, I didn't put make-up on any other part of my body.  I 
swear."

"Take off the clothes, Baby.  Now!"

I unclipped my overalls and dropped them.  I pulled off my T-
shirt,  and tossed it in the tub.  I kicked off the round-toed sandals and 
slipped off my panties and socks.  I don't wear a bra.  That's 
something Pappy and I agree on totally, letting my 42D tits jiggle 
around.

Pappy steered the wheelchair towards me until my ass was up 
against the sink.  He reached out and grabbed the reddish blonde 
kinky locks of my pubic hair.  

"Unclean," he yelled with a sharp jerk to the hair.  "All filth will 
be made clean."

"But, Pappy," I said.  "I'm clean.  I bathed this morning."

With his left hand, he pulled me by my pubic hair over to the 
cabinet he had built for his wheelchair's height.  His right hand opened 
the cabinet.  Long pointed scissors appeared.  He stretched my pubic 
hair as far as it would go.  The scissors opened wide.

"No, Pappy, no!  Not that."  I tried to cover my pubes with my 
hands.  Pappy, quickly grabbed the cord to his electric shaver.  He 
tied my wrists behind my back; the free ends of the cord were tied to 
the door knob.  He clenched my pubic hair and the scissors once 
more.

"Pappy.  Please!  I swear I only had her put the make-up on me 
so you'd have something really good to spank me for.  I only wanted 
to get spanked for being naughty.  That's all.  I swear."  I stretched 
the word as far as I could, leaning towards Pappy to convince him.

He looked into my face.  "Baby, you not only painted your face , 
and you knew I wouldn't approve," I backed up, "but you also let 
someone into the house while I slept.  You had no permission."

I kept backing until the doorknob pressed into my ass.

"That's not something that's forgiven with a few whacks to the 
fanny.  It's something that gets privileges withdrawn."

Panicked, my eyes darted around.  "What?  I . . ."  What 
privileges did I have?

"Baby is no longer allowed to grow cunt hair.  It will be shaved 
baby-butt bare every morning."

I was shocked.  All I could do was dumbly watch Pappy snip 
away at my pubic hair.  Growing it had never struck me as a 
"privilege".  The snipping was faster now.  Wisps of hair fell at my 
feet.  

"Pappy, I don't do anything to grow the hair.  It just grows on its 
own."  My beautiful long locks were pruned down to a stubble.  

Looking at the hacked mess of my pube hairs, I started to cry.  
Pappy swiveled away.  The scissors were replaced with shaving mug 
and brush.  He rode to the basin for water.  

"So does my beard," he said.  "And everyday I shave it.  From 
now on, it's the same for you."    

A frothy shaving brush was applied to my stubble of hair.  The 
bristles were whipped up to a lather.  As the brush moved around, it 
stroked my clitoris.  I closed my eyes to the feeling.  But there was no 
pleasure in it.  It was so unfair to lose my beautiful cunt locks.  The 
brush stopped.  I heard Pappy swivel away.

"But, Pappy.  I need my cunt hair."  I started to ramble in a panic 
as I heard him strop a straight edged razor.  "It's dry lubrication.  It's 
good for me.  I need it so I don't stick to my clothes."  

I opened my eyes on the gleaming razor before them.  I looked 
into Pappy's eyes.  They held that same gleam.  "Hold very still, 
Baby." He held the cold steel against my belly.  "If I slip then you'll 
get cut."  

He started scraping away the lather with the razor.  Old men's 
reflexes are not so good and I felt faint.  But I didn't dare move.  
Lather and hair stubble disappeared from my crotch as I watched the 
razor make its strokes.  Lower and lower Pappy stropped.

"Put your feet far apart, Baby.  Far as you can.  I have to shave 
the lips."  He pressed one finger up between my cunt lips, moving one 
lip to the side.  As the razor stroked that lip, the lip tingled.  

Gently, the razor scraped the sensitive skin.  I started to weaken.  
The pulsing in that area was fearsome.  My mouth dropped.  I looked 
at Pappy.  He snickered at me.  

"What's the matter, Baby?  You look a little dazed."  He started 
shaving on my other cunt lip.  I could feel the juices within me start to 
run.  Oh, no, I thought.  Not now.  The tension began to build.  I 
couldn't start quivering while Pappy's had that razor to my cunt.  

My tensions started to focus.  No!  That could cause him to slip.  
I could lose it all.  "Pappy?  Pappy?  I think you better stop.  I think 
I'm going to . . ."

Too late.  I came.  As I convulsed again and again, I could feel my 
clitoris bounce against the side of the razor.  The orgasm lasted 
forever.  I heard Pappy's razor snap back into its cover.  Quickly, his 
hand bent my head down.  

"Baby, you look like you're about to faint.  Put your head down 
low."  He shoved my head onto his lap.  His penis was up and waiting 
for me.  I started to suck.  My wrists were still bound to the 
doorknob.  

My legs straddled far as they'd go.  My scraped pubic skin 
throbbed at the strange new hairless sensation.  I gaped open my 
mouth and unclenched my throat.  Pappy's prick slid in.  I wanted 
Pappy.  All of him.  I couldn't miss any of Pappy's nourishment.  

Pappy roared as he came.  With more force than ever.  It almost 
threw me.  I heard the razor drop to the floor.  I finished cleaning him 
with my tongue before I raised my head.  When I did, he was already 
fast asleep.  I didn't know how long Pappy would nap.  It could be as 
long as half a day.  But, I couldn't go anywhere.  I was tied to the 
doorknob of a locked bathroom.  It was then that I looked down at 
my new pubes.  

They were naked.  And pudgy.  With fat baby lips.  And bare.  
So wretchedly bare.  I hated it.  I wanted my beautiful thatch of 
reddish-blonde curls back.  I wondered how long it took to grow 
back.  

Miserable, I stood tied up before the sleeping man in his beastly 
wheelchair.  Pappy's nap lasted two hours.  He woke up with his 
usual bright-eyed vitality.  The first thing he did was look at my pubes 
and laugh.  

"Perfect!" he crowed.  "A baby's cunt for Baby."

"Oh, don't look at it," I moaned.  I was already sick of seeing it.  
"Please!  It's so embarrassing."

"Oh?  Well, that's too bad.  But I think you better get used to it.  
It's going to be like that from now on."

"Ah, no, Pappy.  I didn't think you were serious.  I thought you 
were just teasing.  You know, just getting me in the mood to fool 
around."

"No, Baby.  I was dead serious.  Growing pubic hair is a 
privilege you've lost."

"A privilege I've lost?  Forever?  Can't I ever get it back?"

"No.  Once a privilege is lost, it can't be returned."

I started to bawl.