Mina
Directly after my makeover at the hairdresser, my boyfriend organized a meeting with my parents. Panic welled up within me. Until now, our “role-playing” had always been between us, and no one knew that at home, I played the role of the obedient maid for him. I wanted to keep it that way, so I contemplated what to say. From my perspective, it was the ugliest haircut of my life. Nonetheless, I decided to freshen up in the car during the ride to hide my unease. I didn’t exchange a single word with my boyfriend. We just sat in silence. Only at the beginning of the journey did he express his love for me and compliment my new hairstyle.
Upon arriving at my parents’ house, my dad didn’t even recognize me at first. My mom was shocked but managed to laugh with me. I explained that I was simply looking for a change and wanted the new hairstyle of my own accord. I described it in such detail, along with my boyfriend, that I almost believed the made-up story myself. During my visit, my mom was fascinated by my nape, which was completely shaved, smooth without stubble. She ran her fingers over my head several times and said she would never dare to try that. It’s worth noting that she had beautiful, light blonde hair like mine. Every time I looked at myself in a mirror, I didn’t recognize myself. The short black hair framed my face, and the tiny mini bangs looked very nerdy.
On the way home, we began talking about everyday topics in the car again, and for a brief moment, it felt like nothing had happened. When we got home, my boyfriend suggested I change into something more comfortable and come to the living room in about an hour. He wanted to cook a nice dinner for me. I don’t know why, but in that moment, I felt happy. He never cooked for me before. It was a bit like our first date when he made an effort for me. I suddenly felt valuable in our relationship again.
When I entered the bedroom, I noticed that he had thrown away all my “comfortable” clothes due to our move to the house. Instead, he had laid out a new lingerie set and a Japanese silk kimono on the bed. It looked quite expensive and high-quality. When I put it on, despite my ugly haircut, I felt very feminine and sexy.
Then we had the best dinner we’d ever had together in the living room. We ate by candlelight and had great conversations. Right after dinner, we had the best and longest sex I’ve ever had. We were both happy and, for that evening, we simply ignored everything that had happened.
The next day was a Sunday, and we slept in until late morning. When I woke up, my hair was all over the place, especially the mini bangs on my forehead were hard to manage. I had to wash my hair, blow-dry it, and even straighten it. Short hair is definitely more work than long hair. Despite spending about three-quarters of an hour on it, I couldn’t make my hair look as perfect as at the salon. I was simply dissatisfied. The micro bangs looked like I had individual strands of hair on my face. After the haircut, they were densely and evenly distributed. Nevertheless, my boyfriend praised me.
Before breakfast, I mentioned my empty wardrobe. After all, he had disposed of my clothes. In response, he asked me to sit down for a conversation. He explained his future vision for our relationship. He wanted me to sign the contract for another 5 years and move into the house with him. He would continue to pay me a salary and provide insurance. In addition to my household duties, he would hire a maid as support. He also wanted to have more participation in my appearance in the future. Earlier, I only wore my uniform for housework, and the rest of the time, I could do as I pleased. Now he wanted to include my entire clothing in the weekly program. He would, of course, pay for the clothing as well. The ultimate plan was that if I could commit to this contract for five years, he would know that I’m the right one, and he would marry me. After that, we would lead a normal married life between a man and a woman. This man managed to make me feel happy and sad simultaneously. I was happy that he wanted to marry me, but I didn’t know if I could live under his dominant control for the next 5 years. The hair-cutting event the previous day was clearly too extreme for me. I knew that if I declined his offer, our paths would likely part ways at this point. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. I even thought that with my ugly haircut, no other man would ever look at me. My self-confidence was destroyed. In an impulsive reaction, I signed the silly contract and simply kissed him. It felt like there was no way out.
In the evening, I received the weekly schedule for the next week. To my surprise, I had relatively few household chores to do. I could go shopping and had to handle organizational matters for our move to the house in the countryside. He had clear expectations for my clothing when shopping. In the first week, I had to buy three white blouses with ruffles and three black skirts, preferably from three specified brand stores. Before making the purchases with his credit card, I had to send him a photo for approval. The outfits were all suitable for everyday wear, but they weren’t my style. I despised ruffles, although I had to admit that the contrast of the white blouse with my black hair looked good.
At the end of the week, my wardrobe contained 3 blouses, 3 skirts, 3 silk pajamas, 1 polo shirt, and 3 identical maid uniforms. I told him this was not enough for me, and I wanted some variety and not wear the same thing every day. He firmly rejected that idea and said the wardrobe contained enough, and I should be grateful that he had paid for it. On Friday, the weekly plan included a “surprise at home” at 3:00 PM. I was suprised because at that time, my household duties were not completed. I still had vacuuming scheduled from 4:00 to 4:30 PM, and then I had to clean the kitchen.
At 3:00 PM, he came home from work and asked me to come into his office. There, he instructed me to kneel in front of him and brought out his razor. He explained that we needed to keep my nape and undercut clean. In this moment I felt so humiliated. After the shave, my nape and the area above my ears were soft again. He said it made my hairstyle look neat and well-groomed. Somehow, he was right, but I had hoped to be allowed to grow my hair back. In this matter, he had different plans than I did. The only hair he would have preferred to grow longer were my mini bangs. Even they were too nerdy for him. He said he wanted an elegant lady as a partner, not a hippie.
After that, I didn’t have much time to think because it was immediately back to the tightly scheduled household chores.
On Saturday, we had our first meeting with friends in the city. The initial encounters with people who hadn’t seen me with my new hair were terrible. Reactions were shocked, surprised, and even my best friend was sad about my haircut. Since I didn’t want to tell the true story of my transformation, I always explained that I had decided to change myself. This sounded clearly better than the actually crazy story. Interestingly, almost no one noticed that I had also drastically changed my dress code. Tight-fitting blouses with ruffles were absolutely not my style. I would have preferred to be here in my oversized hoodie. Somehow, everyone was so distracted by my hair that they didn’t really mention my outfit. After the second or third meeting, everything settled in, and our circle of friends got used to my new style.
