Beautiful Losers - Part Twelve

You can't let runny, premium dark chocolate go to waste; it's a sin up there with lying and murder.

Jean, still flushed, propped himself up on his elbow. "Well! I just want to publically acknowledge that I am willing to be used for educational purposes any time the need arises."

I wasn't feeling tired anymore, just very, very horny. "So, you could lie back down and I could hone my skills?"

He winked at me and shook his head. "Let's just say it will take a little while for for the need to arise again. However," he leveled his gaze at Sebastian, "you have very little chocolate on you anywhere. That needs to be rectified immediately."

"Actually, no," said Sebastian. "She has no chocolate on her anywhere, but there's a small problem."

"What?" said Jean.

"Yeah, what?" I echoed.

"Shirakins, don't take this the wrong way," said Sebastian, smirking, "but I'm not sucking chocolate out of your pubic hair."

Okay, I did take it the wrong way. Everyone should be able to take criticism, but there was something about the attack on my nether region that hurt. It was also strange that, up until that moment, I hadn't noticed that no one else had any. Eww, they shaved. How the hell did that work? I stared at Jean's groin and wondered how one navigated around all the curves. Anyway, I had no intention of looking like some oiled up amateur porn babe - all that glistening pudenda, and the little spots where the hairs got ingrown. No. No. I liked my pubic hair.

Jean wore an expression that could only be described as manic. "We could wax her?"

"Fuck no! No one is putting hot wax on my vulva!" I said defensively.

"We have to shave her. It's quicker anyway." Sebastian sounded like he was talking about a poodle.

"No you bloody don't!" I was up on my feet and aiming to lock myself in the bedroom as fast as I possibly could, without knocking anything over or tripping over Jean.

Not quite fast enough. Sebastian caught me around the waist and heaved me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I screamed, I really truly screamed.

"Don't panic, Shirakins. You'll like it. It feels good."

"Before or after you slip and perform a clitorectomy by mistake?" I raised my head. Jean was pulling on his kimono and following us. I reached out and grabbed the doorframe that led into the bedroom. "Tell him no, Jean. I mean it. No!"

"Well, in this case, I happen to agree with him. Anyway, have you ever known Sebastian to take no for an answer?"

The slap on the ass that was so hard I gasped and let go of the frame. "Ow! Fuck you!" I spat, staring at Sebastian's upside down back. I looked back up at Jean. "You liar! That's bullshit. You don't let him fuck your ass!"

Jean tilted his head, blinked and prevaricated. "It's just a little personal grooming, Shira! Don't be so melodramatic."

Sebastian dumped me onto the waterbed with such force it winded me. For a moment, I lay there, blinking, trying to catch a breath. He had my jeans undone and was tugging with considerable violence. By the time I was breathing normally, I could hear the water running in the bath.

I glared up at Sebastian who was undoing the buttons on my shirt. "Why are you suddenly being so nasty to me?"

The smile was cold - really cold -which was a shock, considering that I had been sucking his tongue only fifteen minutes earlier. "Nasty to you?" he whispered. "You mean 'nasty' like what you said to me at my place?"

"But..." My mind raced, replaying the last part of the afternoon before I took off for practice, not that I'd forgotten it. I'd just avoided thinking about it. "But you didn't mean it, Sebastian."

"Scissors, razor, some - mm-m - very expensive shaving cream and baby lotion!" Jean called from the bathroom. "Is there anything else I'm forgetting?"

Yanking me up by my arm, which was going to leave a bruise for sure, Sebastian pushed his face against my head. "You really don't know me at all, Shirakins." His voice had that sort of icy calm to it - the kind I was pretty sure serial killers had. "Now, are you going to go along with this nicely? Or do I need to keep hauling you around?"

I heard Jean shut the bath taps off. "Oh, nice and hot! Just the way we want it," he yelled.

Sebastian didn't ease his grip on my arm. Tears pricked at my eyes. It had nothing to do with the shaving. Really, I couldn't even remember why I was making such a fuss about it. It was the other stuff and the way he was behaving. "You're scaring me."

The fingers around my upper arm loosened their grasp. "Well, that makes two of us. I guess we're even," he said. "Come on, this won't take long."

_ _ _ _

There were all sorts of instruments laid out neatly on a towel, on lid of the toilet cistern. It looked like Jean had been preparing for minor surgery. In a way, I guess that's what was going to happen. And I couldn't believe that I was going to let them do something so...so intimate. Why was shaving my pubic hair so much more intimate than a sex act? It wasn't rational, I know, but we're not always rational creatures. Then I thought of my conversation with Lindsey. Getting past all the rough parts, she'd said. Was this really a 'rough part'? Was I so petty that I'd make this a sticking point?

I crossed my arms and eyed them both. "Okay. How do I do this?"

"What, no last minute kicking and screaming?" Jean did look a little surprised.

"No. You don't like my pubic hair? Fine. I'll get rid of it. Tell me what I have to do."

My beautiful, gorgeous, sexy-as-hell friend smiled. There was a little relief in the smile, too. "Oh, you don't have to do it on your own. We'll help. Just get in the bath first. We need to soften up those follicles."

"I can do it by myself. It's not like I don't trim, " I said, stepping into the tub and hissing at the scalding heat. I lowered my ass into the water, teeth clenched. When I'd managed to get all the way in, I gasped. "Damn, that's hot."

It bothered me that they were both looking down at me with grins on their faces, like it was funny. Hadn't we been in the same situation about six hours previously? We'll at least Jean wasn't pissing himself laughing this time.

"How long do I need to soak for?" The heat was making my skin prickle. I could feel sweat oozing from every pore. I'd read somewhere that the Japanese were really into this. They could keep it.

Sebastian got to his knees and leaned his chin on his forearms on the ledge of the tub. "Maybe fifteen minutes? You've got pretty thick hair." He reached out and combed his fingers through the hair on side of my head. His eyes met mine, as if he wanted to say something completely different, but I couldn't read it at all.

Jean huddled down beside him. "You do! Nice on the head, but thoroughly inconvenient anywhere else." He gave me a cute little icky-poo grimace.

The minutes ticked by. No one said a word. It was like they were both watching a kettle boil. I grabbed the soap and started washing, just to make the time go faster.

"Where's the best place to do this?" Sebastian asked Jean.

"She could sit on the edge of the bathtub."

"Or we could put her on the counter, that would be easier."

"Definitely." There was a creepy tone of excitement in Jean's voice.

Sebastian nodded. "Is this going to be your first close encounter with in-your-face pussy?"

Jean giggled. "Since my mother pumped me out? I guess so. I've seen them in a magazine, of course."

"Hey!" I yelled. "You're talking about me like I'm a poodle again. Stop it." Holding onto the sides of the tub, I hauled myself up, feeling a little lightheaded from the heat of the water. "I told you both, I'll do it myself."

Grabbing a towel off the rack and draping it over my shoulders, Sebastian lifted me out of the tub, straight onto the bathroom counter. "Not a good idea, you might cut yourself."

"Pubic cuts are nasty," muttered Jean, "Very nasty."

I stared at him. Why was everyone making inane conversation? This was thoroughly creepy. "Jean, you don't even like pussy. It scares you. Why do you want to do this?"

His gaze flickered for a moment, like I'd caught him at something. "Well... I'm getting used to it, you know. I still don't like them as a generality, but this one's attached to you. I figure this is like systematic desensitization therapy."

"Oh, really?" I couldn't think of anything better to say. "And you?" I asked Sebastian.

He gave me a bland smile. "Me? I'm desensitized already. And I like it, as you know."

"But not women. Just pussy?"

"Pretty much," he sighed, pushing my legs open, but I eased them closed again. He turned to Jean. "Should we trim a little first, or do you think this is short enough to shave?"

Jean shook his head. "No we should definitely trim first. Get it down as short as we can and then take the razor to it."

"Okay, then. Scoot to the edge and lean back against the mirror." But Sebastian didn't wait for me to comply; he just grabbed my hips and pulled me forward. "Comb and scissors?" he demanded, wrenching my knees apart wide, this time with more force.

Fuck it, I thought, leaning back. He was doing this to humiliate me, and Jean was letting him. Well, it only worked it I could be humiliated. I crossed my arms and stared down at him as he combed between my legs and started snipping.

Jean peeked over his shoulder, and from time to time, gave me a glance. "It's not bad," he said, "not bad at all."

"I'm relieved to hear it," I croaked. It was only then that I realized I was crying. I took a big breath and told myself I was being stupid. It helped if I closed my eyes, so I did, although it didn't ameliorate the tickling sensation.

"Hot flannel?"

I opened my eyes. "What?"

"Just to keep the follicles softened," assured Jean. He dipped a washcloth into the bath water, wrung it out, and handed it to Sebastian who, unceremoniously, ground it into my general pubic area.

I recoiled. The cloth stung against the inner, more sensitive areas.

"Sorry," he quipped, not meaning it, holding it there with his hand. He gave me another bland smile that didn't reach his eyes, but were pinned to mine. "Shaving cream?" He held his other hand out without looking away. Jean passed him a small bowl with a shaving brush, already lathered up.

Suddenly I got it. I got it all. I read the eyes and I absolutely understood the message. They said, 'You hurt me, Shira, and now I'm going to hurt you.' It was that simple, that infantile, that messed up. How far did that single-mindedness, that instinct for revenge go? Somewhere, someone - a woman - had been very cruel to him. I knew it. I just knew it. But that woman wasn't me.

Sebastian took the washcloth away. I nodded at him. "I get it, Sebastian. Took me a while but I get it."

He blinked. "Do you?"

"I do."

There was a flicker of something - guilt, perhaps - on his face. "I knew you would, Shira."

"Just don't cut me, okay?"

As he stirred up the foam with the shaving brush, he flinched. "I'd never do that. Never," he said, softly.

Jean was hovering, glancing from me to Seb and back. "Okay. What's going on? Is this hetero pussy shit?"

Sebastian didn't answer him. He began brushing the warm, thick suds between my legs. Carefully, precisely, he used the brush to make each short hair stand up, biting his lower lip in concentration.

I looked over at Jean. "Yeah, kind of."

He shrugged and leaned on the counter, razor in hand, watching Sebastian work in silence for a while.

"Okay... razor."

At least it was a safety razor, not a straight-edged. Even so, as he brought it between my legs with a surprisingly steady hand, I still twitched. I felt Jean slip his hand into mine and squeeze. "He won't hurt you. I promise. I won't let him."

The first pass, as Sebastian dragged the razor against the skin above my slit, made me want to shriek. My legs trembled. I scrunched my face up and looked away.

"Sh-h," hushed Sebastian. He was holding my skin taut with his fingers as he drew the razor over it. "You're doing really well, Shirakins. Just another couple of minutes and we'll be done." I heard him rinse the razor. It came back hot against my skin.

I clenched my teeth and nodded, still holding my breath. I knew the fear was irrational. It was only shaving, for god's sake. Thousands of women did it everyday. But still, it felt dangerous and strange and I'd never had anyone besides a doctor examine me quite so closely down there. His fingers were pressing against me, and the razor tugged minutely at the hairs before it sliced through them, warm and metallic against my skin. I could feel his breath on my inner thighs, hot and even.

"Oh!" I gasped, letting out my breath in a rush.

"Wow. I wish shaving did that for me," said Jean. He wriggled his fingers in my hand and I realized I had probably been squeezing them brutally. "Are you always so pink down there? I don't think you were before. Not quite so..." he searched for the word, "fuchsia?"

I tried to control my breathing, because I couldn't do anything about my pounding heart. He had to be finished soon, soon, I promised myself.

"Maybe she's allergic to the soap?" whispered Jean.

"She's fine," said Sebastian, chuckling. "She's just turned on."

There wasn't any point in denying it; I could feel the blood swelling my inner labia. If he cut me now, I was going to bleed like a stuck pig.

"Well. I certainly understand why straight people have sex with the lights off. That colour could freak a person out," Jean giggled. "Owning one might be kind of fun, though."

"Shut up!" I groaned. "We made a rule about this, remember?"

"Flannel!" demanded Sebastian. He straightened up and dropped the razor on the counter, smiling broadly. "Take a look."

I glanced down my body, at the pink twat between my legs. I looked like a Barbie doll with a cleft. It was obscene. And more obscene, between my spread legs, was the erection in Sebastian's jogging pants. "You're a sick little puppy, you know that?"

He raised an eyebrow and pressed the hot washcloth between my legs.

My back arched, my muscles twitched and I pushed myself into his hand. "Oh...god!"

Jean giggled. Sebastian leaned forward, rubbing me with the hot, wet cloth. "Oh, God!" he teased in a mock falsetto, and pecked me on the lips, pulling his hand away.

"No," I groaned, reaching and missing his arm.

"Come on, back to the chocolate, Shirakins. I'm hungry, and you've now got yourself the most edible little cunt in the world, sweetheart."

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