Chapter 3 : The Cape of Retribution

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As Divya meticulously arranged her tools in preparation for her next client, the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of an unexpected visitor. With a curious glance, she made her way to the reception area, where a representative from “Tress Tales” awaited her.

“Good afternoon, Divya,” the representative greeted her with a warm smile. “I’m from ‘Tress Tales,’ and we’re big fans of your work.”

Divya returned the smile, her curiosity piqued. “What brings you here today?”

The representative explained their proposal for a collaboration, outlining their vision for a haircut video featuring a forced haircut scenario. As they spoke, Divya’s excitement grew, her mind already spinning with ideas for bringing their shared vision to life.

“I’m in,” Divya declared with a grin, her enthusiasm infectious. “Let’s make some magic happen.”

“Tress Tales” revealed the story they had in mind—a young girl working as a cop discovers her aunt shoplifting and catches her in the act. The girl is torn between her duty as a law enforcer and her love for her aunt. Wanting to teach her a lesson without involving the law, she decides to take her aunt to Divya’s salon. There, Divya will cut her hair in a dominating manner, treating her like a convict as a form of punishment.

With the storyline set, Divya eagerly began to envision the narrative unfolding in her salon. Each snip of her scissors would serve as a symbolic act of authority and control, bringing the story to life in a way that only she could. As she and the “Tress Tales” team discussed the finer details of the shoot, Divya’s excitement bubbled over, eager to transform their vision into reality.

As the shoot commenced, Radhika escorted her aunt, Sunita, into Divya’s salon. Sunita looked around nervously, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.

Radhika took a deep breath, her demeanor firm and resolute. “Aunty, we need to talk,” she began, her voice tinged with authority.

Sunita turned to her niece, a hint of defiance in her eyes. “What is it, Radhika? Why are we here?”

Radhika met her aunt’s gaze, her tone unwavering. “I saw you shoplifting today, aunty,” she stated bluntly, her words cutting through the tension in the air. “As a police officer, I can’t ignore what I witnessed. But I don’t want to arrest you.”

Sunita’s eyes narrowed, her defenses rising. “Then why are we here?” she demanded, her voice tinged with suspicion.

Radhika’s expression softened, but her resolve remained steadfast. “I want to teach you a lesson, aunty,” she replied firmly. “I want you to understand the consequences of your actions. And I believe Divya can help us with that.”

With a sense of determination, Radhika led her aunt to Divya’s chair, her instructions clear. “Divya, I need you to give her a haircut similar to how it’s done in prison,” she said, her voice unwavering. “Make it a reminder of what happens when we make bad choices.”

Divya nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation. “If I become soft during her haircut, you take the charge, Divya,” Radhika added.

Divya agreed. “Since her act was of a criminal, shouldn’t she be treated like one?” she asked Radhika. “Shouldn’t she be handcuffed?”

Radhika understood and handcuffed her aunt before her haircut. Divya then gestured towards a special chair in the corner of the salon. “I have a special chair for such customers,” she explained. “It contains belts, arm and leg restraints, etc., to ensure they behave during the haircut.”

After Divya introduced the special chair, Sunita hesitantly took a seat, her hands still bound by the handcuffs. Divya wasted no time in securing her firmly to the chair, ensuring that she couldn’t protest or resist.

As Sunita settled into the restraints, she turned to Radhika with pleading eyes. “Radhika, please,” she begged, her voice tinged with desperation. “I know what I did was wrong, but was it really so big of a mistake to deserve this punishment?”

Radhika’s expression softened, but her resolve remained unwavering. “You should have thought about that before you shoplifted, aunty,” she replied firmly. “Actions have consequences, and now you have to face them.”

Divya observed the exchange with keen interest, a smirk playing on her lips as she admired the sight of a new customer on her special chair, handcuffed and restrained. With a sense of anticipation, she reached for her favorite white-colored cape, its silky fabric draping elegantly over her arm.

This cape was special—it was adorned with delicate lace trimmings and tied with a satin ribbon that Divya knew exactly how tight she would cinch it around Sunita’s neck. As she approached her captive client, a thrill of excitement coursed through her veins, eager to begin the haircut and assert her dominance in the most subtle yet effective way possible.

With a practiced hand, Divya draped the white-colored cape around Sunita’s shoulders, its silky fabric cascading down like a waterfall of innocence. With a gentle tug, she secured the cape snugly around Sunita’s neck, the satin ribbon cinching tighter and tighter with each loop, like a noose tightening around her soft throat.

Sunita’s breath caught in her throat as the fabric constricted around her neck, a subtle reminder of her captivity and the powerlessness she now faced. The lace trimmings brushed against her skin like a whisper of restraint, a stark contrast to the freedom she once took for granted.

As Divya tied the ribbon into a tight knot, she could feel Sunita’s pulse quicken beneath her fingertips, a silent plea for mercy that fell on deaf ears. With a satisfied smile, Divya stepped back to admire her handiwork, the cape now a symbol of Sunita’s submission to her will.

As the haircut progressed, Divya’s hands moved with precision, her fingers deftly working through Sunita’s hair as she trimmed away the strands with meticulous care. Sensing the moment was right, Divya gently pushed Sunita’s head down, her voice soft yet commanding. “Look down,” she instructed, her tone carrying a hint of authority.

With a swift motion, Divya retrieved a pair of clippers from her workstation, her intentions clear. But before she could proceed, Radhika intervened, her voice firm and determined. “Divya, wait,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. “Let’s make this process longer. Use the scissors.”

Sunita’s eyes widened in panic as she looked up, her silent plea for mercy met with a resolute shake of Radhika’s head. “No, Divya, please,” she whispered, her voice trembling with fear.

Divya regarded Radhika for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a nod of acquiescence, she set the clippers aside and began to chop away at Sunita’s hair with the scissors. With each snip, strands of hair fell to the ground, leaving behind an uneven shoulder-length bob.

The sudden transformation left Sunita stunned, her reflection in the mirror a stark reminder of her vulnerability. And as Divya continued to work her magic, Sunita could only watch helplessly, resigned to her fate beneath the velvet grip of Divya’s cape.

After cutting the initial length of hair, Divya proceeded to use a comb to gather the back hair, her movements deliberate and precise, reminiscent of a seasoned barber. Radhika couldn’t help but notice the skill with which Divya wielded the scissors. “It’s uncommon to see women hairstylists use scissors with such precision,” she remarked, her tone filled with admiration. “I’ve often seen jail prisoners get a haircut like this. You’re helping me and Savita aunty with this haircut, even though she may not like it right now.”

Divya paused for a moment, her gaze meeting Radhika’s. “I learned how to give a boy cut from a male barber,” she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of pride. “They ensure complete control. They don’t allow customers to see the mirror, as they stop them from cutting a lot of hair.”

Radhika nodded in understanding. “Do the same,” she instructed. “Ensure complete control.”

With a nod of acknowledgment, Divya pushed Sunita’s head even further down, her grip firm and unyielding. Sunita’s tears flowed freely now, her pleas falling on deaf ears as Divya continued to work her scissors with ruthless efficiency.

Desperate to avoid losing too much hair, Sunita attempted to speak through her sobs, unaware of whom she was pleading with. “Please, don’t cut my hair too short,” she begged, her voice choked with emotion. But Divya remained steadfast, her focus unwavering as she carried out Radhika’s instructions with meticulous care.

With the back hair neatly trimmed, Divya moved on to the front, her scissors poised with precision. As she began to cut, she deliberately angled the strands in a way that they fell onto Sunita’s face, causing her discomfort. Sunita instinctively tried to brush the hair away, but Divya’s firm grip prevented any movement.

Feeling Sunita’s resistance, Divya pulled her front hair harder, ensuring that she remained still. The sensation was jarring, a stark reminder of Divya’s control over her transformation. Sunita winced in pain, but her protests were met with silence as Divya continued to cut, each snip a testament to her authority.

Despite Sunita’s discomfort and growing sense of resignation of her fate beneath Divya’s capable hands, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of helplessness. Divya remained unsatisfied with the hair length. She knew this was a rare opportunity, as most of her female clients didn’t opt for such a drastic haircut. With a smirk playing on her lips, Divya decided to take it a step further.

“Looks like we’re not done yet,” Divya remarked mockingly, her tone dripping with disdain. “Your hair still needs a bit more… persuasion.”

As Sunita’s heart sank, Divya retrieved the clippers, her intentions clear. With swift and deliberate movements, she began to run the clippers over Sunita’s hair, the buzzing sound filling the salon with a sense of finality. Sunita could only watch in silence, her humiliation mounting with each pass of the clippers.

Divya’s mocking tone and the humiliating haircut left Sunita feeling utterly defeated, a prisoner to Divya’s cruel whims. And as she sat there, caped and restrained, she couldn’t help but wonder how she had ended up in this situation, at the mercy of a stylist who took pleasure in her humiliation.

As the clippers finally fell silent, Divya stepped back with a satisfied smile. “The haircut is over,” she declared, her voice filled with triumph.

Radhika approached her aunt, her expression a mix of concern and determination. “Aunty, because of your actions, I had to bring you here,” she said firmly. “Let’s put an end to this now. Divya, please unfasten the cape and release her restraints.”

Divya nodded, her demeanor shifting from assertive to accommodating as she complied with Radhika’s request. With practiced ease, she untied the cape and removed the restraints, allowing Sunita to step out from the chair, albeit with a sense of relief tinged with humiliation.

As they stepped out of the salon, the video concluded, capturing the moment of liberation and reconciliation.

Later, over a cup of tea, Radhika, Divya, and Sunita discussed various aspects of the haircut. They praised Divya for her skillful job and marveled at the unique cape she had used, admiring its intricate design and how it was tied like a ribbon around Sunita’s neck.

The team assured Divya that they would contact her again for another video soon, eager to showcase her talent and creativity once more. And as they parted ways, there was a sense of camaraderie and anticipation for the next collaboration, each member looking forward to what the future held.

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