"Why don't we bring in your mother and sister? I'm sure they'd love to try this too!"
"Good idea, dad!" you agree. You start into the house when your father places his hand on your shoulder.
"Before we head inside, shouldn't we head off?" Dad says, winking at you.
"Head... what?"
Dad sighs. "Chop our heads off, son. We should chop our heads off before we get them."
"OH! Sure, dad!" you say, returning to the guillotine and helping your dad back into it. You position him perfectly and give the cord a tug, the sharp blade slicing right through his neck and separating his head again. You fish it out of the basket and smile at him. He returns the smile and blushes a little, you can sense he enjoys being held like this. You turn toward his body to hand his head over, when he stops you.
"Hold on, son, I want to see if I can find us without my head," he says, concentrating and closing his eyes. You watch his big bellied body stumble a bit, your headless father stretching out his arms as he swats at the air, looking for anything to orient himself. You can't deny how much you enjoy watching this, it's a good thing your dad can't see the tent in your pants. His broad hands finally make their way over to you, feeling up your face.
"Aha, found you!" he shouts. You laugh as his hands go lower, grabbing and striking your neck and shoulders, down to your chest, until they finally find his head in your hands. He plucks it out of your grasp and tucks it under his arm, as natural as one would hold a football.
"Whew, I think I need a shower, I've never been this close to my pits before," your dad says jokingly.
"Oh, let me help with that!" you say. Your dad blushes and looks at you with a strange expression.
"Help me... shower?" he asks. Actually, that thought weirdly sounds pretty good, but that will have to wait. You grab your gym bag out of your car and retrieve your deodorant, extra strength for those sweaty workout sessions.
"Here you go, Dad!" you say cheerfully, offering the stick to your father's body.
"I don't think I can use it like this, I gotta keep one hand on my head. Would you put it on for me, son?" he asks.
"Oh, s-sure, Dad," you say, nervously approaching your dad's body as he directs it to sit down on a large toolbox and places his head in his lap. His body then starts to fiddle with its shirt, finally discarding it and raising its arms. You approach from behind and start rolling on the deodorant. He giggles and twitches a couple times during the process, but otherwise it goes smoothly. Once finished, you retrieve the discarded shirt and put it back on your dad's headless dadbod.
"Thanks, son, I realize this is pretty weird, but I'm hoping it'll become a regular sight for both of us," he says, winking at you.
"You mean... you want to stay headless?"
"Maybe... we'll have to see how the next few days go. I'm definitely staying off my body for at least that time."
"Well, I only have the guillotine for a little while, after a certain point you might have to make a more permanent decision," you warn.
"Relax, son, that's at least a week away! Let's just have fun with this thing in the meantime," your dad says from his lap, his thick thighs in his khaki shorts pressing against his head's cheeks as he nonchalantly scratches a little itch on his stump. As his fingers make contact with it, he lets out a soft little moan and you notice his body shiver.
"Whoa... that felt..."
"Dad?"
"Sorry, son, I think the spot where my head was is... really sensitive. I'll try to keep my hands off it."
"No! Uh, I mean, don't worry about that on my account. I don't mind."
Your dad looks at you a little strangely, blushing as he gets up and picks himself up, tucking himself back under one arm.
"Much better, son. Thanks for your help. Now, shall we get on with chopping your head off too?"
You eagerly mount the bench as your father did before, his big body walking over and putting its free hand on the cord.
"Ready, son?"
"Hell yeah, dad! Chop off my head!" you yell, closing your eyes in giddy anticipation. Your father's body obliges as it gives a sharp tug, the heavy blade whooshing down until it makes contact with your neck. You feel your skin separate as you tumble into the basket. You direct your headless body to reacha round the guillotine and take you out, holding yourself at an angle to see your empty shoulders. The stump on what's left of your neck is completely smooth and flat, just like your dad's. You raise one finger to stroke it, your whole body feeling a wave of pleasure the moment your finger makes contact with the sensitive skin. You moan even louder than your dad, causing you to awkwardly cover your mouth and blush. Your dad just laughs, he laughs so hard he almost drops his own head! The sight of each other is hilarious to the both of you.
"So, Dad, how do we approach telling Mom and Emily about this thing?" you ask. He thinks for a moment, before delivering the game plan with a smile.
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