He chokes something in the affirmative and I ease some of the pressure on his back. He gasps but makes no complaints. He would have given anything for me to have kept stroking that stupid, lying prick of his. My teeth are gritted and the red is clouding my vision. I slide the button and the clippers buzz alive again. They sound like a vibrator. Behind his blindfold he must be thinking he is in line for further dirty, mortifyingly delicious butt treats. As it happens he is simply about to live up to his name – and just think, if he had been Christened Henry or William or whatever, I never would have thought to do this to him.
I run the clippers from his nape to his crown and the strip of cut hair falls down the back of my glove and onto the floor. It takes him a couple of seconds to gathe
