Topknot48
It had been exactly one week since I last buried myself deep inside Shela’s warm, tight pussy while her long, silky black hair swung against her bra strap. The memory of that moment still made my cock twitch — the way her heavy bun bounced as I pounded her from behind, the sweet scent of her hair when I pressed my face into it, and how I finally painted her crown with thick ropes of my cum.
Today, I came back to the small police post with one clear intention: to satisfy my hunger again. I wanted to fuck Shela senseless and then finally shave her beautiful long hair completely bald. I had been fantasizing about running my hands over her smooth scalp for months.
But the moment I stepped inside the post, something felt wrong.
Shela was sitting behind her desk, staring blankly at some documents. Usually, she would light up with a shy but eager smile the second she saw me. Today, her face looked pale and heavy with sadness. Her posture was slumped, and even under her tight navy hijab, I could sense something was terribly off.
“Shela?” I said softly, closing the door behind me. “What’s wrong, sayang?”
She looked up at me, her eyes already glassy with tears. She tried to force a smile but failed miserably.
“Nothing, Mas… I’m fine,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
I walked around the desk and gently pulled her up from her chair. “Don’t lie to me. You know I can tell when something’s bothering you.”
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, pressing her head against my chest. Shela’s body trembled. Then she started crying — quiet at first, then heavier, her shoulders shaking as she clutched my shirt.
I stroked the back of her hijab, feeling the familiar lump of her bun underneath. Or at least… I thought it was familiar.
Something felt different.
After twenty years of indulging in my hair fetish, I could instantly tell the difference between a real, thick bun and a fake one. This one felt… wrong. Too small. Too flat. Too light.
“Shela… talk to me,” I murmured, still gently rubbing the back of her head. “What happened?”
She shook her head against my chest, sobbing harder. “It’s my fault, Mas… I’m so sorry…”
My curiosity — and worry — grew stronger. I slowly pulled back and cupped her wet face with both hands.
“Look at me.”
With trembling fingers, I reached up and began loosening the pins that held her hijab in place. Shela’s eyes widened in panic.
“Mas… don’t…” she whispered weakly, but she didn’t have the strength to stop me.
I peeled the tight hijab upward, slowly revealing her head.
The moment it came off, my heart stopped.
Her once-glorious, waist-length black hair was gone.
What remained was a short, uneven crew cut — the kind given to soldiers or prisoners. Her beautiful thick locks had been brutally reduced to less than an inch all over, showing her scalp in some places. The tomboyish style made her look completely different. Vulnerable. Exposed. Humiliated.
I stared in stunned silence, my fingers instinctively moving to touch the short bristles.
“Shela… what the fuck happened to your hair?” My voice came out low and dangerous.
Shela broke down completely, fresh tears pouring down her cheeks.
“I… I didn’t cut it, Mas,” she cried. “Please believe me…”
I kept running my palm over her brutally short hair, feeling the roughness where there used to be silky smoothness. My cock was confused — half horrified, half strangely aroused by the sight of her ruined hair.
“Tell me everything,” I demanded, still stroking her head. “Right now.”
Shela’s shoulders kept shaking as she cried in my arms. I kept stroking her short, bristly hair, still trying to process the shocking sight. My beautiful policewoman, who once had hair long enough to reach her bra strap, now looked like a fresh recruit.
“Show me,” I said firmly, lifting her chin. “Show me what happened.”
Shela hesitated for a moment, then nodded weakly. She reached for her smartphone on the desk with trembling hands. After unlocking it, she opened her gallery and handed the phone to me.
“Here… this is the video,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
I pressed play.
The video started with Shela sitting tied to a chair in this very post, her hands cuffed behind her back. A young woman in a hijab — probably in her early twenties — stood behind her. The girl looked determined and excited.
I watched as the girl roughly pulled off Shela’s hijab, revealing her long, shiny black hair tied in a perfect, thick bun right on top of her crown. My cock twitched involuntarily at the sight of that familiar heavy bun.
The girl then dragged the chair into the bathroom, wet Shela’s hair thoroughly, and began shampooing it with rough, almost sensual movements. Thick white foam covered Shela’s long strands as the girl massaged her scalp. Even through the phone screen, I could see how aroused the girl was.
Then came the worst part.
The girl pulled out a dagger — a blunt, military-style knife. She grabbed Shela’s bun, yanked her head back brutally, and placed the dull blade right under the bun, against her crown.
Shela’s crying voice came through the video:
“Please… don’t use that. It’s blunt…”
But the girl ignored her.
I watched in a mix of horror and dark fascination as the girl began sawing through Shela’s thick bun with the dull dagger. It wasn’t a clean cut. The blade struggled, pulling and tearing the hair. Shela screamed and cried in pain as strands of her beautiful hair were ripped out one by one. The girl’s face showed pure pleasure while she slowly destroyed the bun.
It took a painfully long time. When the bun finally fell off into the girl’s hand, Shela’s hair was left in a messy, uneven shoulder-length mess. The girl then took scissors and finished the job, buzzing it down into the short crew cut I was now touching.
My blood was boiling… but my cock was also rock hard.
The video then suddenly switched to another clip — the one from last week. It showed me fucking Shela from behind in the bathroom, kissing and sniffing her bun, then shooting my load all over her crown.
Just as the video ended, my own phone started ringing.
It was a video call.
I answered it immediately.
The face that appeared on my screen was the same girl from the video — the one who had destroyed Shela’s hair. She was wearing a tight hijab, her face pretty, with a mischievous and confident smile.
I growled into the phone:
“Who the fuck are you!?”
The girl smiled sweetly.
“My name is Nisa,” she said calmly. “Nice to finally meet you… in person.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“What did you do to my Shela?”
Nisa tilted her head, still smiling.
“To your mistress? Or should I say… your secret lover? I only did what you always do to her. I played with her hair.”
She leaned closer to the camera.
“And I think we have the same taste.”
I stared at Nisa’s face on my phone screen, my blood boiling with a dangerous mix of anger and unexpected arousal. This young woman had the audacity to record me fucking Shela and then use it against us.
“What the fuck do you want from me?” I snapped.
Nisa smiled innocently, as if we were discussing the weather.
“I just want to get to know you, Bang. I didn’t expect to find someone who shares the same… hobby as me. Cutting women’s hair, especially when it’s long and tied up nicely. Playing with it. Ruining it. I’ve been watching you and Shela for a while. You two are quite entertaining.”
Shela, who was sitting beside me, lowered her head in shame, fresh tears falling onto her lap.
Nisa continued, her voice sweet but threatening:
“So here’s the deal. I have the full video of you pounding your little police slut and cumming all over her hair. If you don’t want this spreading everywhere — to her superiors, her family, or even on social media — you’ll accept my little challenge.”
I clenched my jaw. “What kind of challenge?”
Nisa’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“A hair competition. Tomorrow, come to the women’s prison where Shela works. I’ve already arranged everything. If you win, I’ll be your obedient little toy. You can do anything you want to me… including my hair. But if I win, you have to fulfill one request of mine. No questions asked.”
I stayed silent for a few seconds, my mind racing. Part of me wanted to hunt this girl down right now. Another part — the darker, filthier part — was already imagining pulling off that hijab and destroying whatever long hair she was hiding underneath it.
“Fine,” I finally said. “I accept.”
Nisa clapped her hands once, clearly delighted.
“Good boy. Tomorrow at 2 PM. Shela will take you to the secret room. Don’t be late.”
Before I could say anything else, she ended the video call.
The room fell into heavy silence. Shela immediately broke down again, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Mas… I’m so sorry,” she cried, gripping my shirt. “This is all my fault. If I didn’t let that girl trick me… if I wasn’t so careless… your secret wouldn’t be in danger. Forgive me, Mas… please forgive me.”
I pulled her into my arms again, one hand automatically stroking her short crew-cut hair. The feeling was still strange — bristly instead of silky.
“Shhh… stop crying, Shela,” I murmured, kissing the top of her head. “This isn’t entirely your fault. I was the one who kept coming here to fuck you. I was the one who couldn’t control my fetish. We’re both responsible.”
Shela looked up at me with red, puffy eyes.
“But your reputation… and mine… what if the video spreads?”
“It won’t,” I said firmly, though I wasn’t entirely sure. “I’ll handle this Nisa girl tomorrow. And after I win… I’m going to make her regret ever touching your hair.”
Shela buried her face in my chest again, still sniffling. Even with her hair almost gone, I couldn’t stop touching her head. The contrast between the memory of her long, thick bun and the short stubble under my fingers was strangely intoxicating.
I stayed with her for another hour, comforting her, touching her ruined hair, and secretly imagining all the ways I would punish Nisa if I won the competition.
Tomorrow was going to be very interesting.
The next day, I arrived at the women’s prison (Lapas) right on time. The afternoon sun felt heavy on my skin as I parked my motorcycle near the staff entrance. Shela was already waiting for me there, dressed in her full police uniform with a dark navy hijab tightly wrapped around her head. Even with her short crew cut hidden underneath, she still looked beautiful — though the memory of her long hair made my chest tighten with anger.
“Mas…” she greeted me quietly, her voice still carrying traces of yesterday’s guilt. “Follow me. The room is ready.”
She led me through several corridors, past security checks, and into a quieter, more isolated section of the prison. Finally, she opened a heavy metal door that led into what looked like an old interrogation or disciplinary room. The lighting was dim, and the air felt thick with tension.
Inside, three women were already waiting.
The first one I recognized immediately — Nisa. She sat confidently on a metal chair, wearing a tight black hijab that framed her pretty face. She smiled at me like we were old friends.
Next to her were two female prisoners, both handcuffed to their chairs. They looked to be in their mid-twenties. Both had long, thick black hair that reached well past their bra straps — exactly the kind of hair that made my fetish flare up instantly. They were wearing standard orange prison uniforms and kept their heads lowered, clearly nervous.
Nisa stood up gracefully and walked toward me.
“So you really came,” she said with a teasing tone. “I’m glad, Bang. I was worried you might chicken out.”
I ignored her playful attitude and looked straight at her.
“I’m here. Let’s get this over with. What exactly is this competition?”
Nisa gestured toward the two handcuffed prisoners.
“These two girls committed serious violations inside the prison. They tried to escape and caused trouble. Officer Shela here suggested that a proper punishment is needed to make them remember their place. So today, we’re going to shave both of them bald.”
She smiled wider.
“The rules are simple. We each take one prisoner. Whoever finishes shaving their girl completely first wins the round. There will be two rounds total. First round includes… preparation. Second round is the full head shave.”
I glanced at Shela, who stood quietly by the door. She nodded slightly, confirming everything.
I cracked my knuckles and stared at the prisoner assigned to me — a girl with very long, healthy-looking hair tied in a simple low ponytail. Her hair was extremely thick and glossy under the room’s fluorescent lights.
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s do this.”
Nisa stepped closer to me, lowering her voice so only I could hear.
“By the way… I’m really looking forward to losing to you, Bang. Or maybe making you lose. Either way, I win.”
Her eyes had that same dangerous sparkle I saw in the video.
Shela cleared her throat and spoke officially:
“Both of you may begin when ready. Remember, the goal is to make them remember this punishment.”
I walked behind my assigned prisoner. She trembled slightly as I stood close. I could smell the cheap prison shampoo in her long hair. My hands itched to touch it.
I looked over at Nisa, who was already standing behind her own prisoner with a calm, almost excited expression.
My cock was already starting to harden inside my pants.
This was going to be intense.
**Chapter 1: The Unexpected Prize**
**Part 5**
Shela stepped forward, her voice steady despite everything that had happened.
“These two inmates attempted to escape last month. They even attacked a guard. Solitary confinement wasn’t enough to break their arrogance. So today, we’re making sure they never forget what happens when they disobey.”
She looked at both me and Nisa.
“You may do whatever you want to them before the actual cutting begins. Consider this your reward for participating.”
My heart pounded with dark excitement. I moved directly behind my prisoner. She had incredibly long, thick black hair that hung heavily down her back, reaching well below her bra strap. It looked soft and well-maintained despite being in prison.
I gathered all of her hair in both hands, feeling its weight and warmth. Then, without warning, I yanked it upward forcefully and tied it on the very top of her crown with a strong rubber band I had brought. I pulled it as tight as possible.
“Ahh! It hurts!” the girl cried out, her head forced backward.
I smirked and pulled even tighter, making the high ponytail extremely taut. Her scalp stretched visibly.
“Good,” I whispered into her ear. “You’re supposed to feel pain.”
I looked over at Nisa. She was doing something similar but more artistic with her own prisoner — creating an even taller, more dramatic bun structure.
Shela nodded at both of us, giving permission to begin the real fun.
I immediately grabbed the thick, tight ponytail and pulled it back hard, forcing the girl’s head to tilt upward toward the ceiling. She let out a sharp scream. I leaned down and ran my tongue slowly along the side of her exposed neck, tasting her fear and sweat. Then I kissed and sucked on her skin, leaving marks while still gripping her ponytail like a leash.
But that wasn’t enough.
I released the rubber band with a sharp snap, letting her long hair spill down again. Then I gathered it once more, this time twisting it into a thick, heavy bun right on top of her head. I made the bun tight but with enough space inside — like a coiled tunnel of hair.
My cock was already throbbing painfully in my pants. I unzipped quickly and pulled out my hard, veiny shaft. The prisoner’s eyes widened in terror as she realized what was coming.
I pressed the swollen head of my cock against the center of the hair bun and pushed forward, forcing my dick into the tight coil of her silky hair. The sensation was incredible — warm, soft, yet densely packed hair rubbing against every inch of my sensitive skin.
“Fuck…” I groaned loudly.
I started thrusting into the bun, using her own hair as a living fleshlight. The bun bounced and tightened around my cock with every thrust. I could feel the strands wrapping around my shaft, sliding up and down as I fucked her hair harder and faster.
The girl whimpered in shame and discomfort, but that only made me more aroused. I gripped the base of the bun with one hand and kept pounding into it, the obscene wet sounds of hair being fucked filling the room.
It didn’t take long. The intense pleasure of violating her beautiful long hair pushed me over the edge.
With a deep grunt, I buried myself as deep as possible into the coiled bun and exploded.
Thick, heavy spurts of cum flooded inside the bun, soaking her hair from within. I kept pulsing, pumping every drop I had into her glossy black strands.
When I finally pulled out, the bun was visibly wet and sticky with my semen. I took a wide-toothed comb and slowly worked my cum through her entire length of hair, making sure every strand was coated and glistening.
I looked over at Nisa, curious to see how she was handling her own prisoner.
What I saw next nearly made me cum again on the spot.
I turned my head toward Nisa, still breathing heavily from my own intense release, my cock still semi-hard and glistening with leftover cum.
What I saw made my eyes widen in raw disbelief.
Nisa had transformed her prisoner’s hair into an extremely tall, towering bun — almost like a thick, vertical column rising straight up from the top of the girl’s head. It looked obscene and unstable, yet perfectly engineered for what she was about to do.
Without any shame, Nisa dragged the handcuffed prisoner off the chair and forced her to lie flat on her back on the cold floor. The girl’s head was tilted upward because of the massive hair structure.
Then Nisa did something I never expected.
She hiked up her own long skirt, revealing she wasn’t wearing any panties underneath. Her smooth, shaved pussy was already visibly wet. She positioned herself over the towering hair bun, spread her legs wider, and slowly lowered herself onto it.
“Ahh… fuck…” Nisa moaned loudly as the thick, coiled bun of hair penetrated her pussy. She used the prisoner’s own hair as a living dildo.
The sight was filthy and mesmerizing. Nisa began riding the tall hair bun with shameless, rolling movements of her hips. The bun slid in and out of her dripping cunt, the black strands becoming shiny with her juices. Every time she slammed down, the prisoner cried out in pain because her scalp was being pulled hard.
“Yes… so thick…” Nisa gasped, her eyes half-closed in pleasure. She rode it faster, grinding her clit against the base of the bun while the hair column stretched and filled her.
I couldn’t look away. My cock started hardening again just watching this crazy, beautiful girl fuck a prisoner’s hair right in front of me.
After a few minutes of intense riding, Nisa’s body suddenly tensed. She let out a long, high-pitched moan and came violently. Clear pussy juice squirted out around the hair bun, completely soaking the prisoner’s hair and face.
Nisa stayed seated on the bun for a moment longer, catching her breath, before finally standing up. The once proud tower of hair was now a wet, cum-soaked mess.
Shela stood silently in the corner, watching everything with a flushed face.
“Enough playing,” Nisa said with a wicked smile. “Time for the real cutting.”
I moved first.
I gathered my prisoner’s cum-soaked hair into a very high, tight p
