Four ribbons, a haircut and a shave.
Please note: the following is about an Age Play relationship between consenting adults. Think of it as very advanced “baby talk” between lovers.
It’s been a few years since that afternoon when Missy and I were both stood up by our respective play dates at the old Center for Sex Positive Culture. We’d known each other from talking at past parties, but it was her wife (at the time) that suggested we play together. So I got the DM to fetch out the big cushion and we had a grand time as I showed her some of my “takedown” play tricks.
Her hair was its natural soft brown and to about the bottom of her neck. She’d been growing it out from a boy cut she’d gotten at a barbershop when she’d had grown tired of having long hair. I, of course, had my hair kit in my toy bag and we quickly discovered how much she liked having her hair played with.
It wasn’t long before she told me she was looking for a Daddy and I happily volunteered for the job. I’m always open about the hairy end of my fetish play and she was happy to give her hair over to me. After that, we devoted ourselves to her ambition of growing it out long and pretty, like a princess, which is what all good babygirls want, of course. I told her how to care for it and texted every morning how to wear it. We had a lot of fun with rag curls and rainbow colors.
Two summers later, when her hair was mid-back, she sat, neck strip and pinstriped cape on, in Daddy’s barber chair and was very brave as Daddy sectioned off and braided a piece in front and one in back, then took his big scissors and cut then them both off. She got short, straight bangs in front and a shaved nape (showed off her tattoo so much better) to remind her every day to be Daddy’s good girl. I hadn’t told her beforehand how her hair would be cut, and she had been prepared for anything, even a buzz.
We kept the nape shaved regularly (with enough growth between for a good re-clippering each time) and the bangs in good trim until the summer when her hair was starting to reach the length she’d been trying for and now reached her hips. The previous year Daddy had taken her for a fancy bleach and multiple colors at barber/salon, where a friend and fellow age player worked, so it was understood Daddy would be giving the instructions. It came out fabulous and was well worth the time and expense, but, of course, the bleaching came at a cost to the hair’s condition. So it was starting to fray on the ends, despite judicious trimming.
We figured it would take until around my birthday to reach the original target length, so I decided to let the bangs and nape grow until then. I also fell away from my habit of telling her how to wear it each morning and replaced it with a simple reminder to braid it into a single braid before bed, to prevent tangling.
But, one morning a couple of weeks later, she told me she had become fed up with it being long and begged me to cut it.
Bless me, Annie May Monday! Life can be so sweet.
I reminded her that her hair belongs to Daddy and Daddy knows every good girl wants long, pretty hair (like a princess) but if she didn’t remember to braid her hair before bed (again!) and came to me today with a tangled mess to brush and comb out (the way she loved me to), then she’s going to find out what happens when babygirls don’t take care of Daddy’s hair.
A hard kitchen chair and a towel around her shoulders; two braids, four pretty ribbons – two to hold the ends and two farther up, just below the bob.
“Ritsch-ratsch, ritsch-ratsch” No more princess hair.
As for the shave… it was on her yoni, the hair of which, when allowed to, grew as silky as the hair on her head and so long you could tie tiny ribbons in it for keepsakes, too.