Author’s Note: I originally planned a posting hiatus because, man, I spent a weekend dumping out some feelings here, but, reading some of your feedback, I felt inspired.
Due to the coming storm, my job put me up in a hotel for the weekend, so I could come in Monday without issue. There was nothing to do but read, watch TV, and, well, touch myself. Inspired by my boredom, I decided to post some of my favorite fantasies on my favorite fetish website. I didn’t have my laptop on me, so I just used my phone. I think that I went a little overboard posting, but they got a few likes from other members. So, I thought nothing of it. I was just happy to share.
The following Friday night, back in my apartment, I woke up to find three masked men standing over me. They wore all black head to toe. I could only see their cruel eyes and sneering mouths.
One of them kicked me with his big black boot. “Wake up, bitch,” he said, “we need to talk about your bad writing.”
“Bad writing?” I asked.
One of the men ripped away my sheets. Another grabbed me by my long brown hair, which just covered my breasts, and dragged me from my bed. Acting on instinct, I knelt before them submissively, with the man still holding my hair taut and straining my neck.
“Yes, you spent a weekend posting dross on OUR website. Why can’t you write a story longer than five paragraphs? Are you just another dumb bimbo dabbling in kink without putting any effort into it?”
Then he grabbed a pair of kitchen scissors from my counter. Much to my horror, he hacked off a ragged chunk right at the scalp. And then he kept cutting. I remained stunned as my hair rain down around me. When he finally finished, I felt what was left. There was bald patches. I wasn’t even going to have enough for a pixie cut.
Crying, I told them, “They were just little fantasies. Meant to feel like dreams. Easy and short. Why are you so upset about them?”
One of the men pulled a pair of clippers from his bag. My hard nipples could be seen through my sheer black nightgown. The other two men made sure to pinch them as they stood me up. The man with the clippers popped off the guard. I would be getting a grade zero.
“If you enter our space, you need to pay the price. Maybe, if you really experienced a headshave, then you will write about them better.”
He then buzzed my head. Tears ran down my face as I lost what was left of my hair. I hadn’t seen myself yet, but I just knew that the look didn’t suit me. Each men took a turn jerking off over my stubbly scalp once it was finished. They didn’t even have to hold me still. By then, I was broken. By the time that they took out the shaving cream, I wasn’t even crying anymore. I was theirs to use. I allowed them to lather up my scalp, mixing the cum in, and shave me smooth with my own safety razor.
Rubbing my head with a towel, one of the men said, “You look like shit. No one will want to touch you for a while. You should beg us to use you before we go.”
So, I did, especially since my darkest fantasy had just been fulfilled. Once they made use of me, they took a photo of me standing naked against a wall with “www.haircutstorynetwork.com” written on the back of my head and both my asscheeks bright red. Then they left.
Dazed by what just happened, I crawled back into bed. When I finally woke up, I cleaned up the mess of hair and fluids left behind. Then I took a shower. I, of course, made sure to lather up my scalp and shave it again. Since my full bush looked silly with my bald head, I took care of that as well. I was right about the bald look not suiting me. No one really might want to touch me, I thought, rubbing sunscreen into my scalp, which made it shiny. Still, I enjoyed how it felt and the memory that it invoked of being humiliated. Besides, why not be ugly for a little while?