Ginger’s head snapped up when she heard the door opening with a loud creak of old wood and rusty metal and knew that the Master had returned. An involuntary whimper escaped from behind her gag as he strode toward her carrying a metal bucket in one hand and a riding crop in the other.
Her eyes followed him across the room as he stepped over and knelt between her legs with the bucket. He set the container filled with water in front of the chair, just below her protruding genitals. She could see wisps of steam rising up from between her legs. He deliberately set the riding crop aside and spoke to her.
“Well, you have learned to fear.” He said with a smile, “Now it is time for you to learn to trust!” He reached into his hip pocket and brought out a long, shiny straight razor. It gleamed in the dim light of the room, which shone from the single, naked bulb hanging overhead. Ginger cringed and twisted in the ropes as she tried desperately to push herself back to sink into the cushions of the chair beneath her. She groaned loudly into her gag as he opened up the blade. She started shaking her head no, imploring him with her wide eyes while he reached down to pat the soft patch of auburn hair between her legs.
“Time for a shave!” he laughed and began whistling softly as he started removing the mortified young girl’s pubic hair.
***
Ginger’s careful attentions to her appearance had prevented her from noticing where Pam was taking her for quite some time. Pam kept up an endless stream of chatter about contracts, points and percentages, back-end’s of deals, etc. for the entire trip. As the Range Rover continued to speed through the night, Ginger had listened with half an ear to Pam’s description of the huge ad campaign while touching up her hair and make-up. The campaign was going to involve a beautiful athletic girl (hopefully Ginger) and a bag of tortilla chips. The producers were looking for a fresh, sexy face that could fill out a spandex body suit nicely. The spots were going to be aired nationally which would mean massive exposure for the young actress.
Ginger was well aware that the opportunity for national exposure as a sex symbol could very well be the spark to ignite her career. The last two years had involved mostly occasional background work on inane television shows about lifeguards. The type of show that needs lots and lots of bikini clad girls jiggling along the beach in the background. After doing that for a couple of years, the prospect of jiggling center stage for once made Ginger tingle all over with excitement.
Ginger took a look at herself in her mirror and took stock of her choices. At the age of twenty-two she was at her absolute physical and mental peak. The perfect balance of professional savvy gained through hard earned experience, yet still able to pass for a teenager. She still possessed a stunning figure that she maintained religiously through a strict regimen of diet and exercise.
If there was a problem with her figure it was that her breasts were slightly too large, 36D to be precise, which was fine if you aspired to becoming a centerfold but she knew that it sometimes prevented her from being taken seriously as an actress. Too many young, bubble-headed girls thought that the same party-girl look and demeanor that would get them into a nightclub would also carry them to fame and success on the silver screen. What such little tramps failed to realize was that real studio executives were generally up to their armpits in tits and ass. They were not going to be overly impressed by some cheap bimbo flashing her cleavage in their face. What they wanted to see was a responsible professional that they would be comfortable working with.
With all of this in mind, Ginger had chosen to wear an elegant, black silk dress of fairly modest cut which adhered closely to the curves of her glorious body. She had also brought a pair of black velvet heels to help subtly emphasize her incredible rear end. Her thick, lustrous mane of deep red hair was worn up to accentuate the smooth, pale skin of her neck.