Chapter Eighteen
Primping For My Pimp
I slept poorly knowing what was in store for me, and the bags under my eyes the next morning angered my Goddess. Nevertheless, she and Dr. Khachaturian set about making me over. When they covered my head with shaving cream, I knew they intended to make my dome as slick as a billiard ball. Their meticulous care in erasing every trace of a whisker from my face and scalp meant I’d wear a wig and makeup that night—no more trial runs.
Countess Vronsky had transformed herself again. Her bold makeup imbued her face with a domineering starkness that I could only describe as fierce, undeniable, irresistible beauty. She showcased her body in an utterly feminine light. Shunning her usual latex catsuits, she accented her sinewy limbs and torso with a soft, wet-
