Boxing Sacrifice – Part 3

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Part 1 (here) Part 2 (here). The following piece can be read as a standalone, too.

A month and a half passed by after Marco hauled Maria into Al’s Barbershop and made her hair cropped short as a punishment for her unladylike behavior towards Elena. And on that exact day, Elena summoned every courage in her bones to walk up to the barber’s chair—not for a trim but to receive another shorter haircut. Not a peep made past her lips when Marco ordered her to be taken down to the wood. Instead, she happily accepted it and made sure his trainer and legal guardian, Marco, would clipper her head every couple of weeks in the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Maria grew closer to Elena after she had witnessed her courage at being shorn bald in a barbershop without objecting at all. In fact, in her heart, Maria was beginning to admire Elena’s bald head more than her skills inside the fighting cage. But the thought of having a shaved head was an unthinkable notion to her.
Two months ago she wouldn’t have believed that she had received a haircut in a men’s barbershop, so the idea of being bald was appalling to her brain despite it excited her mind.
Little did she know what awaited her fate led by her actions.
“Block the punches with your left, Maria,” Marco instructed from outside the cage. “Move quickly, Elena!” he yelled again.
Tuesday’s practice session ended with a good performance on both Elena and Maria’s part. Elena was pulling off the headgear, followed by her gloves. Sweat coated all over her sun-kissed skin, gleaming brightly under the dimmed lights. But the bald head made her features struck out magnificently as Maria stared at her.
“Hey! Do you want to go out for a coffee tomorrow? Sir gave us a day-off,” Elena asked, rubbing her stubble-head. It was almost two-week long growth, but she knew Marco would soon summon her to the kitchen stool in a day or two.
“No,” Maria responded crudely.
“I thought you wanted—”
Maria cut her in. “Can you stop being a bitch every damn fucking time? It’s beginning to get irritating now.”
Elena’s nostrils flared. “Maria, are you bipolar? You were behaving like a long-lost friend for the past month and a half, and suddenly you started throwing a fit all over again.” She shook her head in disbelief and began to come out of the fighting arena.
All of a sudden, Maria’s punch landed on her shoulders, dis-balancing her on the ground.
“Bloody hell!” Elena cursed and instinctively blocked the second incoming blow from the opponent. The attack and defend continued for a few seconds Marco’s angry growl pulled them apart.
“This is getting naive—both of you!” he scolded.
“Fuck the bald bitch!” Maria gritted out under her breath but loud enough to be audible to his ears.
“Maria,” the warning tone in Marco’s voice was palpable. “I am going to give you ten minutes to calm down and then you will meet me for a talk. And you better make sure you drop that attitude from your tone or I will make you drop it. Is that clear, young lady?”
“You already punished me, so…you can’t…again…” she stammered away in a pitched voice.
“That is up to me what I decide.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed menacingly. “Fine?”
She quickly amended in a meek tone. “I mean, yes, Sir. I am sorry, Sir.”
“Ten minutes,” he reminded her again and turned to Elena, “Go home, girl. We will have an early dinner today.”
Elena didn’t understand the purpose of early dinner, especially when they have a day off tomorrow. But she knew better than to question him right now.
“Ok, Sir.” With that, she walked out.
Maria couldn’t understand the anger behind her outburst—was it envy or temporary mood swing? Either way, she knew she had to face her trainer in a few minutes.
Would he punish her again?
Would he shear her bald just like Elena?
A shiver of thrill and fear clawed up her spine but also dampened her between the legs. She had never faced a conflicting emotion like this her entire life.
Steeling herself, she went on to find Marco in the gym.
“Maria,” his voice was more calming now. “Are you having trouble to adjust with Elena? I thought you accepted her as a friend.”
“I did,” she said softly. “I am sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Please tell her that I am sorry.”
“Why don’t you join us for tonight’s dinner and then you can deliver the apology in person?”
She took a moment to nod her head. “Okay. I can do that,” she said apprehensively.
“Excellent. I will let Elena know that you are joining us for dinner.”


Maria arrived at Marco and Elena’s place sharp on time, donning a wine red A-line skater dress that showed off her curves beautifully. The slightly overgrown pixie was washed and blowed dried—and then styled with added volume.
The evening went on with renewed friendship while three of them enjoyed the delicious Italian dinner made by the cook and housekeeper—Lucinda.
“It was nice of you, Sir, to invite me for dinner,” Maria said, as the spoon made a small clattering noise after she kept on the plate.
“I am just happy that you both worked out on your problems. I don’t like shallow negativity among you girls.”
Half an hour later, Elena joined Marco and Maria talking about various aspects of discipline in MMA in the drawing room.
“We had our dinner too early today,” Elena pouted a bit. “I don’t want to go to bed now.” Strict bedtime was one of the rules in Marco’s house that Elena had to follow by the letter.
“Young lady, are you forgetting something?” Leniency underlay his stern tone.
Elena racked her brain but came up with nothing. “I finished the dishes and laundry day is tomorrow…so what did I miss?” she muttered to herself.
“Silly forgetful girl,” Marco said, snaring her chin between his fingers. “Set the stool in the kitchen. I will be joining you shortly.”
No sooner the words made past his lips, Maria’s heartbeat drummed so loudly, it ached her ribs. Although the apprehension belied the growing moisture between her thighs as she quickly crossed one leg over the other.
“Maria can also watch you receiving a nice, induction hair cut. Wouldn’t you want that, Maria?” Marco added.
“I…uh…I guess. Okay.”

Several minutes later, Maria saw Elena setting the wooden stool in the middle of the kitchen, a pristine white towel hanging from her forearms. Elena quickly plopped herself down and draped the towel all over herself.
“Hey!” Elena waved at her. “Grab a chair and sit down.” Maria still couldn’t understand how cheerful and happy Elena sounded at the prospect of being shorn to the wood.
“I think I would sit on the counter,” Maria said with a curt smile.
“Oh, no, no, no!” Elena gaped wide-eyed at her. “Don’t even think about sitting on the counter. Marco hates it. Last time, I had ignored his warning, I received ten of the hardest swats with the cane on my bottom.”
“He…he spanked you?”
Elena shrugged. “As any father would. Marco might be all strict and stern, but he is also a doting parent to me. And he is never unfair, you know.”
Maria nodded thoughtfully and then questioned Elena on a different topic. “Does it hurt? You know…the clippers?”
Elena laughed a little. “Why would it? You had your clipper haircut about a month ago? Tell me, doesn’t the vibrations feel awesome?”
“It does. But my one had a guard on it, I think. The one Sir uses on your scalp—it’s just metal teeth.”
“And it feels even better!” Elena whispered, winking at her.
“Are you ready?” Marco’s voice boomed suddenly as Elena quickly straightened her back and nodded in acquiescence.
Maria gulped inaudibly and settled down on a chair nearby. Transfixed, she couldn’t take her eyes off the clippers when Marco oiled it nicely before removing all the attachments.
His palm splayed on top of her head in a firm grip and slightly pushed it down to her chest as he reminded, “No squirming, girl.”
The air filled with a loud buzzing noise as the clipper came in contact with her nape and traveled upwards. A single pass left white washed skin in its wake and followed by another. He took his sweet time in shearing his ward with a deft skill of wielding the menacing clipper. Loose clipping floated around but mostly accumulated on the white towel. After countless passes and repetitive moves, Maria watched the back of Elena’s head completely shaved clean.
“Chin up and look straight,” Marco schooled, and she obediently followed. The whole procedure looked as if they were doing it for years.
The Clippers now mowed down—starting from the sideburns to the temples, and then moved to her crown area. Maria saw how Elena closed her eyes and savored on the sensation—like she was in a trance. And soon all the coarse hair forming a shadow on her head was gone—just like that. Funny, Maria wondered, how a quarter inch stubble looks stark against a bald head.
He rubbed her head all over, dusting away the stray snippets and announced, “Neat and tidy now.”
Elena was grinning from ear to ear as she undraped the towel from her shoulders, and rose from the stool to head towards the drawing room.
Marco didn’t put away the clippers. Instead, he directly looked at Maria. “Now, it’s your turn. Take a seat.” He pointed.
Her whole body tensed, thighs quivered as he repeated his command a little more sternly now. “Sit here, Maria.”
“But I did apologize, and I thought…” she trailed off.
“No, no. It has nothing to do with the punishment at all. I think you want to do this, Maria. That little outburst was in the hope of a bald head, isn’t it?”
Maria nervously nibbled her bottom lip and walked over to sit down on the stool facing him. “I don’t know…maybe…”
“Why is the thought of getting bald making you scared?” he probed further.
“What will people say when they see me…bald?”
“This is 2019, Maria,” he reminded her. “How you want to have your hair as a woman or want to have hair at all or not is up to you. You’re a strong girl – emotionally, physically and intellectually. Why would you take a decision based on someone else’s opinion? So I am asking you this again: do you want to be bald now?”
Maria was convinced but meekly replied, “Yes.”
Marco shook his head in disapproval. “No, that won’t do at all, girl. I want a firm and loud YES or NO.”
“Yes, Sir. I want to be bald.” This time it sounded clear and confident.
He nodded and hollered, “Elena, get me a fresh white towel from the bathroom shelf.”
Elena walked back into the kitchen with the towel. “Why do you need-” She stopped mid-sentence when she saw Maria sitting on the same stool.
“Elena,” Marco ordered, “wrap the towel around her, please.”
Grinning she did and leaned down slightly. “Told ya, you would want to do this. Enjoy while it lasts,” she whispered for Maria’s ears and went back to occupy the same place where Maria sat earlier.
Marco reached behind her and smoothed the grown pixie cut by running his fingers through it. “We will start from the back. Keep your head down and stay very still,” he coached her and placed a firm hand on top of her head, slightly pushing it down to his liking.
The Brrrr sound of the clippers hummed but the moment it came in contact with her hairline, the vibrations deepened. She flinched a little, but couldn’t move her head against his powerful grip. As the Clippers made several passes in ascending movements, Maria had no idea of the white walls it left in its wake. She could only gape at the chunks of hair falling and getting accumulated on her lap. For a second, she regretted the decision of getting scalped but when the vibrations intensified—there was no room for going back on her mind.
“The back is complete,” Marco said after some time, rubbing the shaved portion. “Now, chin up and look straight ahead,” he repeated the same command for her as he did for Elena and Maria complied silently.
Marco stood in front of her now and combed the longer hair on her head sideways. “Let’s get rid of these silly bangs now,” he decided and switched on the clippers again.
Maria closed her eyes in anticipation as the vibrating metal touched the crown and the machine was dragged down towards her forehead. Sheaves of hair rained down her face and joined the severed locks on her lap. With expert precision, the top was shaved off, and he tilted her head to the side. With one hand, he gently folded her ears and swiftly ran the chattering teeth. Mounds of dark hair slid down her back while she started feeling light-headed. Was it the shearing or her headspace? It was difficult to assess.
The other side received the same treatment from the Clippers as Marco completely took her down to the wood for the first time in her life.
“Almost done,” she heard him saying, and a soft whimper escaped her pursed lips. A weird heat crept up her skin.
Maria shut her eyes tightly, without realizing the tears sliding down her cheeks while he ran the clippers for a second round for missed spots. When she heard the buzzing sound came to a halt, she slowly tried to open her eyes.
“No,” Marco quickly chided her. “Keep your eyes closed.”
She first felt a grip on her chin and then the caress of soft satin cloth dusting her newly shaven head, followed by her cheeks and neck for tiniest clippings. The ruthless shaving with clippers followed by such delicate aftercare melted the bones in her body. Her stiff muscles began to relax while her labored breathing slowed.
“Nice and clean now. You can open your eyes, Maria.”
As she slowly did, Elena walked up to her and helped her to remove the snippet-covered white towel.
“Doesn’t it feel amazing?” Elena asked with excitement as she showed her the hand mirror.
Maria watched with benumbed amazement how the ears, slender neck, almond eyes, and cheekbones were more prominent than ever. “I can’t believe I did this. But it does feel great.”
“Well, it’s both liberating and empowering for a lady when she shaves her head for the first time,” Marco said.
“Thank you so much, Sir,” she conveyed her gratitude. Then she turned to Elena, “I think I will keep it shaved now.”
“Well, in that case,” Marco said, and both of them turned to him. “I will give you both a few weeks to get used to the buzzed head and take it a notch smoother with the razor. For the first shave, I have Al do the deed. After that, I can do the weekly razor shave.”
Both the girls turned crimson at his revelation. They just got used to their shaved heads for a while, but experiencing the lather, and sharp razor in a barbershop was something they didn’t see coming at all.
Both of them were left dangled in uncertainty on how they would look and feel with a smooth cueball head when Marco would invariably lead them to the barbershop.


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