The Paris Catacombs

Ever since I was a teenager I had always been intrigued by the Catacombs in Paris. Through out the years I put money aside hoping one day I could go visit and explore.

I didn’t just want to go check out the area open for tourists, I wanted to find one of the local known entrances sand dive deep in exploration. Passage ways unseen for years. For four years I gathered research, hidden maps, and finally when I turned 21 I saved enough money to go to Paris for two weeks.

I began packing, trying to figure out what clothes to even bring, I settled on a few sets of yoga pants, sports bras, bikini sets, and a few dresses. I figured between explorations I could get dressed up and go out to a fancy restaurant.

In a separate suitcase I packed everything I use for hair care, styling, and shoes. I take very good care of my hair, I often spend at least an hour a day adding essential oils, braiding it for bed, amongst other things. Frequently I would get compliments ranging from ‘I’ve never seen such long and thick hair like yours’ and even ‘love the way your hair makes your boobs stand out’

That’s right, it’s always been comments about my hair of my body. I stood 5’4 and have double D boobs, a thick ass (often called the perfect shape) and an outstanding hour glass figure. So between my body and my luscious blonde locks that spread down to my waist, people would call me the epitome of sexy.

Everytime I ever traveled especially to a different country, I would bring my passport, birth certificate, social security card, and other important documents. I typically keep all of my paperwork in one binder. So it isn’t uncommon to go somewhere with the title to my car and house as well.

Within the next four hours I would be getting on a plane flying directly to Paris. I decided to leave a bit early so I wouldn’t miss my flight. When I got to the airport I instantly started getting stared at. I didn’t mind, I kinda enjoyed being a tease. I loved the attention although it got a little much at times.

I walked up to the security check station, and set my bags on the conveyer belt. As soon as I walked through the metal detector an alarm sounded off. I figured it was giving a false read. I made sure to remove my earrings.

The TSA agent, who was a tad bit cute, led me into a room.

“What’s this about? I made sure I didn’t have any metal on mr?” I said

“Well regardless, we have to search you. The detector went off”

I looked at him quizzically with my eyebrow arched.

“Please remove your clothes I have to perform a strip search” he commanded.

“Excuse me?” I said as shades of red started to dawn my face.

The agent did not respond and crossed his arms waiting for me. It didn’t take much for me to strip down. After all I was only wearing a sports bra and leggings.

“See? Nothing else on me”

He walked over and slowly started to trace my body with his hands. Making sure everything he did was thorough.

“What the fuck are you doing? I thought you only did this with clothing on?” As he started getting closer to my pussy, I was stunned. I couldn’t believe he was touching me like this. I felt a slight tingle down there but the embarrassment outweighed any naughty thoughts.

“Seems to be clear, you can get dressed and find your flight now” he said, leaving a firm slap across my left ass cheek, causing me to yelp and jump a foot forward. He watched as I quickly pulled my leggings up, threw my bra on and swiftly walked out the door.

What an odd way to start a trip right? I thought so. I grabbed a coffee on my way to the plane. The flight was uneventful, I slept most of the time.

After the plane landed I made my way to the enterance of the terminal and hailed a taxi.

“Hi I’m Julia, could you take me to the Parisian hotel please?” I asked the driver as I got in to the taxi.

“Of course miss, what brings you here?” He asked in a French accent however speaking in excellent English.

“For years I’ve wanted to explore the catacombs. It’s always been a fascination for me.”

“I see, you’re an adventurer? I’m guessing you want to venture far deeper than the tousisty area?”

“That’s right! I’m hoping I can find a local to help me find a hidden enterance in.”

“Well I know a few access points, maybe after you leave your bags at the hotel I can drive you to one of them?”

Hearing this raised my heart beat. I was already getting to explore my dreams within the first couple hours of being here.

“That would be amazing! Are you going to come with?”

“Oh no, I won’t go down there myself. It’s dangerous down there, very easy to get turned around”

We arrived to the hotel and I quickly check in. One of the concierges in the lobby offered to take my bags to my room. I happily agreed knowing I could get right back into the taxi. As I started walking out of the lobby I grew curious about the dangers he mentioned.

Most of the dangers I read up on stated it was easy to get lost, flashlights can die, no cell service, etc. I figured nothing I couldn’t handle, after all I had a map and two flashlights.

As I got back into the taxi, the driver commented “Julia you really do have such lovely hair amongst other beautiful features”

Something about comments backed with a French accent really got me going and made me blush.

“Oh thank you so much! What other features of mine do you like?” I said giving in to his flirtatious advance.

“Well being truthful, you have a sexy physique.”

“You know I’ve never been intimate with a Frenchman…” I said as I lifted my sports bra up just enough for him to catch a peek.

He smiled as his cheeks flushed bright red. We pulled to an alleyway after a few miles of driving.

“Miss, this is a secret enterance that only few locals know, would you like me to pick you up in the evening?”

“That would be amazing… could I make a special payment now for this taxi ride?” I said as I playfully pulled his arm towards the backseat.

He crawled back with me and I slowly unzipped his jeans hiding a growing bulge.

I pulled his cock out and began kissing it, starting at his base heading forward to his tip. I ran my tongue up the same path and began sucking, sliding my tongue around as I blew him.

He grabbed my hair and fashioned it into a ponytail for him to hold onto. He started slowly but quickly grew forcefull and speedily pushing my head up and down. It wasn’t long before he pulled my head off with force and blew his load all over my face. I whiped my face off and winked at him before leaving the taxi cab.

He popped the trunk so I could grab my backpack. Inside I had flashlights, an underground map, along with my folder of paperwork. I meant to keep my folder in my suitcase but the thought slipped my mind.

I walked up to the plywood lying across the side walk and lifted it up. Below was a dark hole lead down by a ladder. I climbed down until I was on solid ground. I couldn’t hold my excitement finally being in the catacombs. I walked down a stone corridor until I found the first spiral staircase. I followed it down, taking pictures as I go. It felt like the steps went forever, I figured I went down the equivalent of 4 stories worth of levels.

When I reached the last step, it opened into another hallway, this was where I started seeing bones and skulls lining the walls. I reached a fork and decided to go left. The ceiling narrowed down so much that I had to start crawling.

My hair would not stop hanging down and getting in the way so I paused and took my backpack off in search of a hairtie. I really didn’t want to get my hair super dirty or getting caught on skeletons. After searching through my bag I couldn’t find a single hairtie. I figured I just had to push on, leaving my sun bleached blonde flowing down my body.

I tossed my backpack back over my shoulder, map in one hand and flash light in the other and continued. Every fork, every twist and turn I marked on the map, I did not want to get lost down here.

Everything seemed eerie being so far down below the surface surrounded by nothing but winding tunnels and skeletal remains.

I had been walking and crawling, climbing down stairs for close to two hours, just as excited as I was entering the catacombs.

I looked at my map and noticed a four way crossing coming up. I decided to go straight and see where that route takes me.

As I walked up to the intersection something didn’t feel right, but I decided to push on.

Right when I stepped into the four way someone jumped out from the hallways running perpendicular. They grabbed my flashlight and map and ran off into the dark.

It all happened so fast, I was in shock for the better part of a minute just standing there scared. I tried switching to my backup flashlight as quick as I could and switched it on.

Of course it didn’t work, I didn’t check to see if it came with batteries before stuffing it in my backpack.

I was alone and lost in pitch darkness. I scrambled back the way I came, hoping I would find familiarity with whichever way I was running.

All of a sudden I heard whispering coming from further down the hall.

“This way” a quiet voice beckoned.

I had no choice but to follow the sounds hoping they would lead me out.

“Come this way” I heard again slowly walking in their direction, each step filled with dread.

The voice seemed like it was getting further and further away, leading me deeper into the uncharted catacombs.

“Are you there? Please help!” I whimpered.

“Closer” a voice beckoned, coming from an opening in the hallway.

I gulped as I reached the hallway.

Someone jumped out knocking me to the ground. Without a word they started tieing me up. I was gagged, presumably to muffle my cries and shrieks, blindfolded and hauled off down the hall by what seemed like two people.

I was dragged for what felt like forever until they threw me to the ground and took the cloth covering my eyes off.

I was met with an open chamber filled with candles, a chair, a huge vat of water, and two people; a woman and a man.

“What the fuck are you doing to me” I cried while being carried and set onto the chair.

They couple exchanged no words as they chained me to the chair. All the while I kept struggling, trying to free myself from my bindings.

Then finally the woman spoke up in a heavy French accent.

“You’re American, no?” She said standing right in front of me.

I tried to reply, but my words were too muffled so I nodded my head.

“And your reason for being in the catacombs? Are you fascinated with it? Or are you fascinated with the French people? You know for sluts like you, we are not a novelty to fuck” the French woman said as she lifted my chin up.

All I could do was nod, the gag was preventing me from spewing any words.

“Well…” she turned to the man standing in the shadow.

“Jean… what do we do if American women are found snooping around here?”

“We turn them French” Jean said with a devilish smile spread from ear to ear.

What does that even mean? Turn me French? All I could feel was dread and terror wash through my body as she opened my backpack, dumping all of its contents on the ground.

She noticed the folder fall to the ground and instantly reached for it. She opened it, thumbing through the documents, pausing every other paper showing them to Jean.

“Stupid girl… you’ve made this so much easier for us haven’t you?” She said, causing each word she says to reverberate through my body.

Tears began to run down my face, making my mascara run as she slowly walked over to the candles.

She began listing the documents out loud.

“Birth certificate, special security, passport… ownership totes for your car… house”

My body grew tense as she held my papers close to the fire.

“Jean what should we start with first?”

“Birth certificate. Erasing her identity would be a good start”

Jean came behind me and started tieing a rope to my hair, securing it to the bottom of the chair, forcing my head and eyes to be pointed at the woman.

In the midst of shear panic, I let out a moan as he yanked my tresses downward.

“Oh honey, just wait” she says as she holds my birth certificate over the candle.

I tried screaming ‘no’ and ‘stop’ as loud as I could but again my cries were muffled.

I watched as the corner of it caught fire, the fire quickly scaling up engulfing the birth certificate in flames until there was nothing left.

She followed with my ssn and lastly my pass port.

“Well I guess Julia does not exist anymore. Jean what do you think? Does she deserve a new identity? Maybe a French identity?”

“I think she would make a great French woman, but only after a few changes.”

I struggled as much as I could, terrified of the changes she meant. I was already in a pit of trouble, how I’m earth was I going to get back home with no identity?

Each tussle I made in attempt to get out caused the chains to get tighter.

“Oh and one more thing, Jean untie her hand. There’s some things she needs to sign over”

Jean unchained my hand and forcibly brought it to the front of me. She held out my car title first.

“Sign it over or you’ll never make it out of this chamber alive”

Tears started streaming as she placed a pen in my hand. I worked so damn hard for that car and I knew what was next.

With a big gulp I signed the dotted line. She looked over it herself and then she held out my home owners title in front of me.

I let out a sob as I signed my name, permanently giving her all rights to my home and everything inside of it,

Lastly she held out a a new birth certificate except this was written all in French. Jean held a knife to my throat, threatening me to sign it.

I did as I was told and signed my life away to France. I now had no ownership, no property, no way to get back to the US, not even a choice in the matter.

“Now that you are a ‘French citizen by birth’ we need to make a few changes… Jean, disrobe her” she demanded as she handed a pair of scissors to him.

One hand held my head up by the chin, the other started snipping away at my clothes. He made fast work of my sports bra and moved onto my leggings.

The crisp coolness of the blades running up my legs, enclosing on my groin sent shivers up my body.

“From now on, we will choose your clothing, makeup, hairstyle, and even career until you’ve proven to be a proper French woman.”

I started to feel ten times more naseauce as soon as she mentioned hairstyles. Worst comes to worst I could deal with my clothes and everything else being chosen. But nothing to my hair. Apart from my body, my hair was my best and most prized feature. Let alone my natural shade of blonde.

The woman noticed me grow tense as she mentioned hair.

“Seems like you’re a very big fan of your precious locks. Such a shame it goes down to your waist. We will have to change that.” She said as she walked behind me, untieing my hair from its bindings.

She slowly started to run her fingers through my hair. She held it Directly in front of my eyes and with her fingers made a sudden gesture of cutting it.

I tried to move my head out of her grasp but she pulled back harder.

“You look so excited, but we will hold off on that for a moment.”

She walked over to a bag lying along the wall of skulls and dug out a set of 7” high heels, jet black.

She walked over to me and knelt down in front of my bare legs. She fastened the rather expensive looking heels on my feet and secured them with tiny locks.

“You will be bound to these heels until I say so… now back to the real change.”

She leaned right in front of my face

“I’m thinking something French.. short and chic. Perhaps a jet black French bob to match with your heels. Something short enough to show off your pretty kneck.”

I started to cry trying to scream out to anyone but was unsuccessful.

She held my hair out directly in front of my face and held them taught in between the scissors.

Snip

I’m one fluent motion she closed the scissors leaving that section of hair hanging down just below my jaw, tickling my cheeks as it effortlessly swished against my cheeks.

The woman dropped the bundle of hair into my naked lap and repeated the action to the other side.

Hair started to slide off of my smooth legs, surrounding me in a sea of blonde. I felt her combing out a triangular section at the top of my head and combed it down. Covering my view with layers of hair.

She placed the scissors right above my eyebrows and closed her weapons jaws, sending a waterfall flowing down my line of sight.

“Looking more French with every minute that passes. Oh and look at that, now that you’re eyebrows are unveiled we will need to do something about their shapes. But we will get to that later.”

It was such a foreign feeling, having hair laying across my fore head.

The next thing I knew she started mixing a concoction in a bowl, and painting it into my hair,

“Goodbye blonde” she said, mischievously laughing.

I tried to imagine what I looked like in my current state. Chained up in a catacomb, hair chopped off, naked with my hair quickly loosing all trace of its blonde quickly.

“Jean, I think it’s time she has something a little more permenant to remind her what nationality she is now”

“Already on it” he said as he filled several viles up with what appeared to be ink.

He approached me and knelt down. I watched as he brandished a tattoo gun and lowered it to the area right above my pussy.

Without hesitation he began tattooing a French flag, right above my pussy. I felt every single needling running in and out of my skin, depositing ink so deep it could never be removed.

He must’ve been a tattoo artist at some point in his life. He was swift and quick with his craft. My kissy began to quiver and become wet as he stuck two fingers in as he tattooed. This was the last feeling I ever needed in a position like this.

With the tattoo finally done, I was untied and my arms were handcuffed behind me, they forced me up and walked me over to the large vat of water on the other side of the room.

The woman dunked my head in and began scrubbing the dye out. I couldn’t breath and thought I was about to drown until she pulled my head out of the water by my hair.

I gasped and breathed in as much air as I could, she pulled me by the hair back into the chair, all whilst stumbling in the excessively high heels I was forced to wear.

With each step I took, my now short hair, would bob across my cheeks reminding me exactly what is happenings.

She sat me back in the chair and began cutting my hair again.

I felt the scissors line up with my bottom lip.

Snip.

A one inch chunk landed on my right shoulder, followed by another, then another. My head growing lighter with each cut.

I couldn’t contain my cries and was full on balling as she tilted my head forward forcing me to look at all my lifeless blonde hair scattered across the floor with growing piles of black snippets mixed in.

“You are starting to shape up into a proper French woman, my dear. And from now on you address me as Mistress Claire” Mistress Clair finally pulled the gag out of my mouth, releasing pent up cried and shrieks.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I said balling my eyes out.

She slapped my face “what do you call me?”

“Mistress Claire” I cried out.

“That’s right. But let’s not worry about that just yet. While your hair dries, you’re eyebrows needs a makeover”

She held my face back and began tweezing. Each pluck caused me to quietly moan in pain. She got one eyebrow done and paused.

“No one would ever know that you weren’t a propert French woman now. We are to maintain the new you as long as I see fit, and then we may move to different styles. But for now you will continue looking like a sexy French bitch.”

“Yes Mistress Claire” I said trying to sniffle my tears away.

“Catching on already”

“Mistress Claire, how long do I have to do this?”

“You are not to ask questions unless told to. Besides that, I will forever be in control of you.”

I started to cry again after hearing that. Not to mention the pain of having my eyebrows plucked.

I was so upset all I wanted to do was look in a mirror and have some closure of what I’d be looking like for the rest of the unforeseeable future.

The plucking stopped, and Mistress Claire began sectioning out the back of my hair.

I thought the cutting was all done, there couldn’t have been anymore left to cut. That was until I heard a pop followed by a loud hum.

She grabbed my head a forced my chin into my boobs.

“Head down until I tell you otherwise”

The clippers touched my neck and crept up my nape sending vibrations rocketing down my spine. I let out a soft moan as she started another pass.

With each movement, hair would flutter down my bare back and mix into the ever growing pile of tresses lining the floor.

The clippers popped off, leaving a defeating silence amongst the room. Mistress Claire blew cool air against my bare nape causing me to shiver. She brushed my hair out one more time before curling everything besides my bangs.

With my hair curled, I could feel it gently tickling the bottom of my ears, bouncing with every movement. That feeling alone made me tear up again.

“It’s amazing how you made it 21 years without ever piercing your ears. We need to change that. I can’t have my property walking next to me without diamond earings.”

A wave of naseua washed over me. I was terrified of needles. Obviously it was better than the pain filled tattooing I was forced into.

Mistress Claire pulled out a devious looking needle and walked up to me.

“Wow, I don’t even need to move your hair out of the way for this, it’s just so short isn’t it?” Mistress knew what she was doing. She was trying to humiliate me and it was for sure working.

My face flushed with shades of red until she jabbed the needle into my ear. Quickly she shoved a gorgeous diamond earring in. She repeated this with my other ear as well. I never had anything fancy like this, let alone diamond jewlery.

She gently whipes the tears from my eyes. She pulled me up and unlocked my handcuffs. I stumbled at first not being used to such high heels.

“Stay” she barked as she wheeled a full size mirror in front of me. She uncovered the mirror.

I couldn’t recognize the woman staring back at me. The first thing I saw was my hair. Jet black, cut extremely short for me, with bangs revealing my eyebrows. My brows were a total shock. Back in the US I would get them done occasionally but never drastically.

My eyebrows were pencil thin with high arches. They stood out resting right below my bangs that feel ever so straight against my forehead.

As I looked in the mirror at my hair, I gently shook my head, watching it bob and swish against my face. There was no hiding behind me goddess length bleach blonde hair. After all it was all around the floor. Then my gaze brought down to my pussy.

The French flag permanently embedded into my skin right above my pussy. But to me that wasn’t as big of a deal as my hair.

My whole life I did whatever I could to maintain such long and thick hair. All for it to be chopped off within the first day of traveling to Paris.

But I guess now France was my permenant residence, enslaved by Mistress Claire. Forced to dress and be the woman she desires.

As I furthered my gaze down the mirror I noticed how sexy my legs looked in such high heels. But nonetheless my sight always returned to my new chin length bob. I reached my hand up to feel it and instantly cried when I felt where my hair stopped.

Mistress Claire grabbed my hand and ran it up the undercut. My body filled with nervousness as I worried what would come next.

“You will never look like the person you were when you stumbled into the catacombs. This is your new identity. You are Talia from now on.” Mistress Claire spoke.

I turned my focus towards her with tears in my eyes.

“Yes Mistress Claire” I said as I turned back towards the mirror.

Startling myself again I looked in the mirror, again not knowing the French woman staring back at me.

Mistress handed me my new outfit. A jet black body contouring dress with a thing gold belt accentuating my waist. The dress showed off my double D bust, and ending right at the tops of my thighs showing off my smooth legs which have never looked sexier with the drastic heels I was locked into.

Mistress led me through a series of stone and bone mazes connecting to a spiral staircase, perhaps the same one I walked down to unknowingly change my identity forever.

As we walked up I began to get my balance back with these heels. We emerged back into the bustling streets of Paris as a completely new woman.

Mistress Claire and I side by side strolling through the streets, feeling the crisp breeze flow across my shorn nape, hustling my curled French bob around my cheeks.

Thank you for reading! I hope everyone enjoyed this story. There will be a part 2 eventually. Like always if you have any ideas for future stories I could write, let me know. And leave a comment telling me how you liked this story!