Is This What Turns You On? by BaldSurfer

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Marla and I had been married for 12 years. We got married right out of college. The more success I had at the ad firm, the more hours I worked and the more stressed out I always felt. As our two kids got older, Marla spent more and more time and energy being a great mom. I still loves her with all my heart and I was sure she felt the same, but the fire and passion had gone out of our marriage. We hardly ever had sex anymore. One of us was always too tired, or in a bad mood, or a million other excuses. I still found Marla sexy and beautiful, but I just couldn't find the passion to make love to her. We tried to talk about it. She offered to indulge any fantasies I might have, but I had no ideas. And so we lived a loving but lukewarm life - and Marla tried to pretend it was OK. Until an email set off an unlikely series of events that changed us forever...

Julio, a talented graphic artist at work, sent around an email announcing that he was shaving his head for St. Baldrick's to raise money for children's cancer research and was asking everyone at work to sponsor him. What an odd idea, I thought - shaving your head as a fund raiser. And for Julio, it seemed like a very generous act because for the few years he'd worked for us, he'd always had long black hair, always tied in a ponytail, and a patchy scraggly beard that he was always sure would soon fill in. I admired his courage to take such a leap for such a good cause and made a mental note to post a donation for him.

That night, Marla and I went to bed early, around 10:30. I tossed and turned, couldn't sleep, so I wandered downstairs in my boxers and sat in my den, surfing the web. I remembered that I needed to sponsor Julio, so I Googled St Baldrick. Besides the link to the site, there seemed to be thousands of links to videos of St Baldrick events of people getting their heads shaved. I saw one video with a kid who had even longer hair than Julio and decided to watch it. The quality was terrible. The camera shook and the oohing and ahhing of the crowd drowned out anything the guy was saying. But watching this guy's long hair get clipped down to his scalp brought back a rush of memories.

When I was in high school, buzzcuts and shaved heads were just becoming trendy - especially with the jocks and the kind of "cool" kids who had fake ID's and got into bars and dance clubs. I was way too conservative to ever do anything radical but I was fascinated by the idea of being confident enough to get your hair shaved off. I furtively stared at bald and nearly bald heads, quickly looking away when I got caught. I'd lay in bed some nights thinking about how it would feel to sit in a barber chair and ask for them to shave all my hair off. And sometimes that made me hard and I'd jerk off thinking about it. But at 16, let's face it, everything got you hard. The web was still fairly new so there were no YouTube videos, very few pictures of severe haircuts, and the early message boards about the topic were filled with pretty creepy dudes. So in time, the fascination just passed. I'd never be "that guy" and I forgot about those feelings. At least until this night when I researched St Baldrick. Suddenly the feelings rushed back. I watched a few more shaving videos and suddenly felt the strain of a throbbing erection in my boxers. I reached down and began stroking myself as I watched strangers sacrifice their hair for charity. I exploded in orgasm and had to take off my tee shirt to clean up my mess. I was so transported by the experience that I never realized I was being watched. Exhausted, I finally entered my credit card info, donating $100 for Julio's shave, went back upstairs, put on a fresh shirt and went to bed.

Marla and I had plans for a "date night" that Friday, so the kids had sleepover plans with friends and I walked in the door at 7:00, ready to change and take Marla out to dinner. But as I opened the door, there was my wife in black lingerie, fishnet stockings and spike heels. God, she looked hot! But before I could even ask her what was going on, she snarled at me "It's about time you got home. Strip! Right here. Right now."

It was startling and erotic so I decided to just go along with whatever she was doing. Off came my suit, tie, shirt and underwear, right there at the front door. Without saying another word, she grabbed my hand and led me to the living room. I was surprised to see a dining room chair in the middle of the room a layer of newspapers spread out under and all round it, and handcuf** dangling from both chair arms. She gestured towards the chair and growled "NEXT!". I still had no idea what was going on but it was clear she wanted me in that chair. And the fear and confusion I was feeling were arousing me in a whole new way so I silently sat in the chair and offered no resistance as she closed handcuf** around both my wrists. I got a little more nervous as she used silk scarves to tie my ankles to the chair as well.

She briefly left the room, but soon I heard her behind me and she said "I finally figured it out. I know what turns you on, baby. And tonight is the night I get my man back!" What could she be talking about? This whole domination thing had me aroused but I was really scared to find out what was next.

Suddenly I heard the sound of mechanical vibrations. Good lord! What was she planning? What kind of sex toy makes a noise like that? And where was she going to put it? I started to speak but she quickly silenced me. "You do NOT get to speak! I saw you! I know what gets you hot! And if that's what it takes, that's what we're going to do!"

I had no clue what she was talking about, but the buzzing sound got louder and then I saw the bare silver teeth of hair clippers just a second before she placed them ate my forehead and I felt her push them back over the top of my head. "Is this what turns you on?" she asked as four or more inches of hair, still crusty with the gel it took to slick it back, fell around me. I felt sick. I felt angry. But I also felt the throbbing of a crazy erection.

"Are you crazy?" I screamed. "Are you shaving my freaking head?"

"I saw you the other night. Watching haircuts and masturbating! You were practically grunting! I can't remember the last time you seemed that hot about ME! So sit back, shut up and I'm shaving you! If that's what it takes, that's what we'll do!"

I was helpless. The stripe she'd shaved left no choice. And then I looked at her, her body as tight and luscious as the day we met. The fire in her eyes as the shaved another stripe. And then I thought of all those fantasies I'd had about shaving my head all those years ago. My erection throbbed, almost painfully. I contracted every muscle I could to stop from cumming as my slicked back hair rained down over my shoulders and fell on my bare lap. With every pass of the clippers, I felt more cool air on my head and my entire body quaked with a combination of passion and fear.

A few minutes later, it felt like my head was completely bare as she flicked off the clippers. My erection was still painfully strong as she dropped to her knees and blew me, my hands and feet still bound to the chair. I wish I could say it lasted more than 30 seconds but it didn't as I exploded in her mouth.

Marla freed me from the chair and led me by the hand through our bedroom into the bathroom where I looked at myself in a full length mirror and for the first time saw my head now barren but for some barely visible auburn stubble. I loved the way it looked. In my mind, I was already thinking that I would never grow my hair back again. I was instantly hard again as I looked at my shorn skull, grabbed Marla, threw her on our bed and made mad passionate love with her. It felt like our honeymoon all over again. But even better as I felt the electric tingle of her hands writhing across the sandpaper stubble of my bare head.

Afterwards, we lay there holding each other. "How are you going to explain this at work?" she asked me. I said I'd tell Julio that he inspired me and I'd gotten my friends to sponsor my shave.

But then it hit me that maybe this passion was a singular event. I asked her how we'd ever find this sense of danger and daring again. Marla simply smiled, running her hands through my furry chest and bush and said, "Baby, when the time is right, you've got plenty more hair to lose."

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