Chelsea’s Demonic Torments

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Kevin is what would commonly be referred to as a demon. A fairly high ranking demon, in fact. His job in the afterlife is to torment the souls of people classified as redeemable by putting them through trials to test their virtue. His subjects aren’t necessarily evil, like serial killers or sexual predators or the guy who invented robocalls. Rather, they’re flawed people who have the potential to be worthy of paradise, but need chances to improve as a person by being put in situations where they have to overcome their flaw. They agree to participate in scenarios designed by demons that will test their personal growth. While demons aren’t necessarily evil, they do revel in torturing people, so long as they feel their victims deserve it.

Kevin is the leader of demon team #12358W, a group of 42 demons who were selected because the all share one particular characteristic: a hair fetish.

Demon team #12358W’s latest subject is a human known as Chelsea Smith, who lived most of her life in Dallas, TX, USA. Her main flaw in life was vanity. She had always been extremely beautiful, and because of her beauty, people had always handed her things in life to the point where she grew to expect it. Her looks had always been the one thing she valued above all else, and she never lived to see them fade, due to dangerous her habit of putting on makeup while driving.

Kevin and his team would be putting her through a series of tests. Each time, her memory would be rebooted, and she would have no idea that she was dead or that the afterlife existed. As far as Chelsea knew, these tests were just another day in her life on Earth. She had already failed the first 118 trials that other demon teams had put her through.

For the first trial from Kevin’s team, they went back to when she was 23 years old.

Trial #119: The Generous Donation

Chelsea arrived early at the bland suburban office building. The traffic had been lighter than expected, so she had to finish her makeup in the parking lot. The sign on the building said “Futurevation” in a design that was both modern and completely cookie-cutter. This was the tech startup where her cousin Rachel worked. She had always been close to Rachel, but secretly despised her, because being around Rachel brought out the worst of her insecurities. Rachel had always been perfect- perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect grades, and she was such a goody-two-shoes, always involved in some kind of charity. That was what brought Chelsea here today. Rachel was going to have her head shaved to raise money for the local children’s hospital. She had convinced her company’s investors to pledge some absurd amount of money. Chelsea didn’t want to come, but Rachel had begged her to come along for moral support, and she figured it would at least be entertaining to watch Rachel be stripped of her immaculate strawberry-blonde locks.

She rang the bell on the front door and it unlocked. An older woman sat at the receptionist desk.

“Uhh, yeah, hi, I’m here for the charity event” She greeted the receptionist

“Oh sure sweetie. It’s going to be down that hallway to your left, conference room 101. You can’t miss it. Let me get you a visitor badge.”

Chelsea snatched the badge from her hand and walked away without so much as a thank you. She walked down the hallway and into the room marked Conference Room 101.

The room was set up for a presentation. To one side, there was an old school barber chair, and about 50 chairs were arranged in semicircular rows around it. TV monitors in the back of the room displayed various angles, all pointing at the chair. She looked for Rachel, but the only other person in the room was a handsome 40-ish-year-old man in a suit and tie.

The man approached her. “You much be Chelsea.” He said to her.

“Uhh yeah, how did you know my name?” She asked him, seeming a bit weirded out.

“Rachel told me you’d be here. I’m Kevin Anderson, COO here at Futurevation.” He reached out and gave her a firm handshake. “So… unfortunately… we’ve had a bit of bad luck. Rachel isn’t going to be able to make it today. She was supposed to fly back from New York last night, but they had that big winter storm and all flights out of JFK were cancelled, so it looks like she’s going to be stuck there a few more days.”

“Seriously? Ugh, I wish she’d told me that before I drove all the way over here. So I guess this is cancelled then.” She said, turning towards the door.

“Well, that’s the thing” Kevin responded as she stopped. “We’ve got all of our investors here from Silicon Valley, and they’re only here for today. If we don’t hold this event, they’re not going to make that $300,000 donation to the children’s hospital. That’s why I was hoping you could step in and take Rachel’s place.”

“What? No!” Chelsea responded, offended that he would even ask.

“That’s understandable, but it’s really a shame those sick kids won’t be getting that money.”

“Can’t you just get some other young girl at this company you can get to take Rachel’s place?” She asked.

“Rachel, this is a cutting-edge, progressive, industry-disrupting startup… so no… she’s the only one.” Kevin replied.

“Well, that’s not my problem. Rachel can do this some other time if she cares so much about those kids, but I am NOT shaving my head… for free.” Chelsea responded emphatically, making sure to emphasize the last part.

Kevin was shocked that she had failed the trial this quickly. He had expected she’d at least get past that part, but regardless of what choices the subjects made, the team was contractually obligated to finish the scenario. Also, they wanted to continue tormenting her, because they were demons.

“Oh, is the payment the issue?” Kevin responded to her. “Well we could always adjust the payment structure. Perhaps $20,000 to you and $280,000 to the hospital.”

“$40,000” Chelsea immediately snapped back.

“Ok, very well. We’re going to get started in about 15 minutes. Help yourself to some pizza and soda in the mean time.”

Chelsea grabbed a slice of pizza. There were three pizzas on the table: Hawaiian, Hawaiian with mushrooms and Hawaiian with onions. Chelsea hated Hawaiian pizza, but she hadn’t eaten all day so she picked the pineapples off of a slice and ate the rest. She poured herself a cup of Diet Mr. Pibb to wash it down while she waited for the guests to arrive. She couldn’t believe what she’d just let herself be talked into, but hey, 40,000 bucks. She could buy a high end wig while she waited for the hair to grow out and still have plenty of cash left over. Plus, she would have this to hold over Rachel forever. That bitch was going to wish she rented a car and drove back to Texas in a snowstorm.

Kevin arrived again, carrying a barber’s cape and a couple sheets of paper. “Here you go, just sign at the bottom here, and initial on page 2, put this on and have a seat in the chair.”

Chelsea signed the contract without reading it, fastened the cape around her neck and let her strawberry blonde locks fall around it. As she sat in the chair, she noticed some kind of straps on the armrests, but didn’t think much of them. Once she sat down, people started to trickle in the room. Most of them were old men, some were techie looking nerd types. All in all, about 40 people showed up to watch.

Kevin walked up to the chair and rubbed Chelsea’s shoulders. “You ready?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Be sure to smile, you look prettier when you smile!” He instructed Chelsea as he reached for the strap around the armrest and fastened it to her wrist before she even knew what was happening.

“Whoa, what are you doing, man?” She yelled.

“Don’t worry, it’s part of the presentation. Just let me know if they’re too tight.” Kevin replied dismissively as he fastened the other wrist. Then he bent over and fastened straps around each of her ankles. She hadn’t even seen those.

He picked up the microphone and addressed the crowd. “Hello everyone! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone for being here today. Thank you to our investors for continuing to believe in our product, and thank you to our employees for all your hard work. But most of all, I’d like to thank our subject, Chelsea, for agreeing to sacrifice her beautiful, long locks today, and she’ll be making a $260,000 donation to the local children’s hospital with the proceeds! Lets give her a hand!”

The crowd briskly applauded as Chelsea smiled uncomfortably.

“Now, without further ado, lets get this mess out of the way!” Kevin announced as he ruffled her hair.

He opened a box that sat on the floor by the chair and produced a large set of stainless steel clippers. They hummed loudly as he flicked the power switch. Wasting no time, he placed them right in the middle of her scalp and ran them all the way to the back of her nape, leaving a bald strip in the wake. The crowd applauded loudly. Kevin worked with impressive efficiency, it couldn’t have taken him more than 30 seconds to strip all the hair from Chelsea’s head, and the stubble he left behind was perfectly even. It was the result of thousands of years of practice.

Chelsea breathed a sigh of relief that it was over. That sucked, but in a minute, he’d unstrap her wrists and ankles and she’d never have to see this place or any of these people again.

Kevin picked the microphone back up. “Now, the demonstration you all came here to see.”

Chelsea was confused.

Kevin put on a pair of rubber gloves and held up a jar towards the crowd.

“This, ladies and gentlemen, is product AZ, the thing you’ve spent so much of your time and money developing over the last year and a half. Currently, the trade name we’re leaning towards is PermaBare. One application of this stuff to the skin and hair is removed permanently in about 5 minutes.”

“Whoa, I didn’t agree to this, let me out of here!” Chelsea shouted as she thrashed at her restraints. Kevin slapped a piece of duct tape over her mouth. She didn’t even know where he got that from, but she wasn’t able to make a sound. “You agreed to this in the contract.” he muttered to her.

“Whoops, sorry about that. Chelsea asked that she be silenced so she didn’t blurt out anything embarrassing while the PermaBare works its magic. Now, as I was saying, the patent-pending formula works by not only dissolving all of the remaining hair, but the follicles that cause new hair to grow. Our target demographic is men who have already experienced significant hair loss and want to permanently remove the rest so they don’t have to maintain it. The reason we’ve chosen a woman with a full head of hair for this demonstration is to show that it doesn’t only work on hair that is already thinning and falling out. Even thick, healthy hair is no match for PermaBare… hey I think I just came up with our new slogan.”

“Don’t quit your day job, Kev!” A voice blurted out from the crowd.

He laughed and slathered it on her head, evenly coating her stubble with the thick paste. At first, Chelsea felt nothing, then a slight tingle, then a painful burning sensation that got worse and worse. Meanwhile, Kevin was ignoring her thrashing and presenting a slideshow, which her chair had been angled so she was forced to watch, that went over the brutal details of how the cream was permanently destroying her treasured follicles. Many of the previous humans who had been subjected to this previous trial had passed, willingly agreeing to permanently sacrifice their hair in exchange for such a large charitable donation. In those cases, Kevin hadn’t subjected them to the slide show (which was all fake science made up to sound as horrible as possible), nor had he added ghost pepper extract to the hair removal cream. Chelsea had failed so badly, though, taking $40,000 from charity, that she scored in the bottom 1% for this particular trial.

Chelsea’s head was burning. Really, really burning. She strained herself trying to break the restraints but they wouldn’t budge, it was like they were held in place by dark magic, because they were. When the 5 minutes were up, Kevin took his time wiped the cream off her scalp with a wet towel, leaving behind a perfectly smooth, albeit red and irritated scalp. Chelsea was drenched in sweat and had a look of murder in her eyes, but was utterly incapable of doing anything but sitting there while the demons posing as techies poked, prodded and examined her smooth scalp.

The trial was finally over.

Trial #120: The Psych experiment

Demon Team #12358’s first trial with Chelsea was an abject failure for her, but a smashing success for them. Getting a subject to perform in the bottom 1% would look great on their performance metrics, and workplace performance metrics are hugely popular in hell, especially the ones that measure something that was pretty much just random luck and the employee had no real control over. Kevin supervised his team in setting up the next trial while some of those do-gooders from paradise tried to teach Chelsea the error of her ways to try and make her a better person before she got reset.

For the next trial, Chelsea’s memories and body would be rebooted to when she was 19 years old, taking classes in community college while trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. This one was a bit more risky for Kevin, since 72% of the subjects he had previously put through this trial had passed.

Only five other demons on Kevin’s team would be needed to participate in this trial, and everyone on the team wanted one of those slots due to the high likelihood she would fail, so Kevin awarded them to the five highest finishers of the office betting pool on the most recent season of Celebrity Big Brother (required viewing in hell).

Chelsea arrived on the campus of Frisco University, a very expensive private college about an hour from where she went to school. One of her professors (who clearly had a crush on her) had let her know about an opportunity to earn an entire Psych credit for participating in an experiment that would only take an hour.

She found the Psych building, a drab, 5 story concrete structure, and made her way to the 4th floor after an excruciatingly slow elevator ride. When she found the room number on her post it note, she went inside and was greeted by the 5 girls that were already there.

They all looked like the kind of stuck up rich girls she hated in high school. Their designer purses and perfect hair screamed daddy’s money, they all had the same Greek letters on their t-shirts and she guessed in her head that at least 2 of them must have had fake boobs.

“Hi” One of the girls said to her “Are you here for Professor Weinstein’s study?”

“Uh, yeah, guess so” Chelsea responded non-chalantly.

The girl who appeared to be the leader of the bunch reached out for a handshake. “Well it’s good to meet you. I’m Valerie, and this is McKenzie, Zoe, Halana and Alena”.

“Oh, uhh, hi. I’m Chelsea” she responded “Are y’all in some kind of sorority or something?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess you noticed the shirts. we’re all Alpha sisters!”

The other girls Woo’d when she said that. The room was empty except for 5 chairs, a small wall-mounted TV, and a mirror and a door on the back wall, so Chelsea stood in a corner and pretended to receive a text so they’d stop trying to talk to her.

The door in the back of the room opened, and a grey-haired man in horn-rimmed glasses and a tweed jacket entered the room.

“Hello, good to see none of you had trouble finding this place.” the man said with a slight German accent. “As you probably figured out by now, I’m Dr. Kevin Weinstein, I’m a tenured professor in the Psychology department here at FU. I’d like to thank you all for participating in this experiment today. I’ve already gone ahead and made sure you’ll all receive a full Psych credit.”

The sorority girls clapped and woo’d in unison.

“Now” the professor continued. “Which one of you is Chelsea Smith?”

Chelsea raised her hand. “Follow me, please.”

The professor led her through the door, entering the windowless room on the other side of the mirror and locking the door behind him. This room was almost as empty as the previous one. There was only a desk with a computer and a mirror on it and an office chair. A camera was protruding from the corner. On the side of the room was another door.

“Sit tight” he instructed her. “In a few minutes, the computer will play a video giving you further instructions.” He exited through the side door and she heard it lock behind him.

Chelsea waited about 10 minutes, then a video began playing on the computer monitor. Dr. Weinstein was on the video, holding a thing that looked like a weird bicycle helmet.

“Hello. The experiment which you have agreed to participate in will be a test of utilitarian decision making. First of all, you are probably wondering what this is. The device I hold in my hands is a prototype developed by some of the grad students in the electrical engineering department. It is an automated barbering helmet. It contains six sets of electric clippers and can cut a full head of hair in just 15 seconds. My grad student Jack here will demonstrate.”

The video cut to a feed of a young man with shaggy hair. It then cut to him with the device on his head, which started making a loud hum as a semicircular bracket moved from the back of his head to the front. He then removed the helmet to reveal a short, but even buzzcut.

“Thanks, I needed a haircut” He said to Dr. Weinstein as he shook his hand and walked out of view of the camera.

“Each of your co-participants has been fitted with one of these devices. Unlike Jack, though, they have a lot more hair to lose, and I would imagine they don’t want a haircut. This device is in the early stages of development, and the only haircut it can currently do is a #1 buzz cut.”

Suddenly the mirror on the wall became see-through and Chelsea could see the five girls from before, each with the same auto-barber helmet attached to their head, their ponytails pulled tightly through the back. They looked nervous.

The video continued “That glass is a one-way mirror. You can see them but they can not see or hear you. Each of their auto-barber devices are set to start in 10 minutes. There is only one way for you to stop this. In the top drawer of this desk is a hair tie and a pair of scissors. If you tie your hair back into a ponytail and cut off at least 6 inches, the devices on the other participants heads will deactivate. Otherwise, all 5 of them will receive a very short haircut when the timer hits zero. Either way, once the time elapses, the door in the back of this room will unlock, and you will have ample time to exit the premises before the door to the other room opens. As you are not a student at this university, it is unlikely you will ever see any of them again. So that is the dilemma. Do you sacrifice some of your hair to save all the hair of five complete strangers?”

The video was replaced by a counter that started at 10:00 and incremented downward. Chelsea opened the top drawer and sure enough, there was a hair tie, a ruler and a large pair of shears inside. She tied her hair back, looked in the mirror and measured 6 inches. That would leave her with a bob just below her ears, which she’d probably have to even out and make even shorter. Then she considered the fact that the devices on the other participants’ heads were probably fake. This professor wouldn’t really shave 5 sorority girls’ heads just to prove a point that people suck would he? Everyone knows that people do suck. Even if the devices did work, they were rich girls who probably deserved it, and its not like she’d ever have to see them again.

So she made her decision with 9 minutes and 15 seconds still remaining. She put the scissors down and played games on her phone while she waited for the timer to run out. As it reached 5 seconds, she stood up and looked in the window, curious to see what would happen.

She could hear the buzzing through the walls. As the brackets moved from the backs of their heads to the front, the ponytails grew looser, Sure enough, after 15 seconds, all five ponytails simultaneously fell on the floor. The sorority girls removed their helmets and looked at each other’s freshly-shorn heads in horror. While the device gave them very even cuts, it left very little hair. At this point, Chelsea was pointing and laughing at them through the one way mirror. She was glad she chose not to chop off her ponytail, because the looks on their faces were hilarious. Then they all looked directly into her eyes. Wait… this was a one-way mirror, right? Zoe looked her directly in the eyes and mouthed “What the fuck is your problem?”

Chelsea dashed towards the door, but it was still locked. “Hey, what the fuck? this door is supposed to unlock! And they weren’t supposed to be able to see me!” She yelled at the camera, but the camera retracted into a compartment in the wall. She heard a door unlocking, but it wasn’t the door she was trying to open, it was the door with five angry bald girls on the other side, and it swung open.

“You selfish bitch!” Valerie shouted at her, looking completely bald with only blonde stubble on her head. “You wouldn’t even cut off a little bit of your hair to keep this from happening to us!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would actually…”

“Sorry?” Halana interrupted her, looking completely unhinged while holding up the two-foot-long ginger mane that had just been severed from her head “You were laughing at us until you found out there would be consequences.”

“Speaking of consequences, the video said to look in the bottom drawer of the desk.” Zoe reminded her friends as she stroked the black bristle on her head.

Chelsea was beginning to realize that the experiment was not malfunctioning, rather, it had entered the next stage. She had let their heads be shaved when she thought there would be no impact on her, now they had her trapped, already knowing the decision she made.

Alena opened the bottom drawer of the desk and pulled out a large set of clippers. “Jackpot!” She shouted as she snapped the guard off. “Time for a makeover, Chelsea.”

Three of the girls pinned her down and held her by the arms. She pled with them to show mercy but they laughed. Alena plunged the clippers down the middle of her scalp with no mercy.

“Hey, why should you get to have all the fun, let’s take turns!” Valerie suggested as she snatched the clippers.

“You can’t do this, you’re going to go to jail for this!” Chelsea cried.

McKenzie laughed at her. “You’re going to go to jail” she repeated back to her in a mocking tone. “Fat chance of that, my dad’s a senator.”

“Yeah, and my dad paid for her dad’s campaign.” Valerie added as she grabbed a hunk of hair and adeptly buzzed it off, then shoved it in Chelsea’s mouth. “Was there any tape in that drawer?” She asked her friends. Zoe reached in and found a roll of duct tape, then taped her mouth shut, sealing the severed locks inside. “That should shut her up.”

One by one, the sorority girls took swipes with the clippers until all of Chelsea’s strawberry blonde tresses were barely even stubble. She hoped they were done, but there were more supplies in the desk drawer. She watched in horror as Zoe produced a can of shaving cream and a bag of dollar-store-brand, single-blade plastic razors.

Zoe sprayed the shaving cream directly onto her scalp and rubbed it around, not even wetting the hair first. Two of the girls started simultaneously swiping away at the foam with the cheap razors. Chelsea couldn’t see who was doing it, but between the dull blades and the dry scalp, it stung like hell. When they had finally finished the whole scalp, she heard someone yell out “Don’t forget the eyebrows!” and she immediately felt the cold foam and dull razors on the skin above her eyes.

McKenzie rubbed the bare skin on the crown of Chelsea’s crown. “Still feels a little rough, I think we need to go over it again.” And so she spread another layer atop Chelsea’s dome and they painfully scraped her scalp and eyebrows clean again.

Finally she was allowed to stand, and turned around so she could see herself in the mirror. She looked hideous. No hair, no eyebrows, and her mascara had run down her face so she looked like a clown.

Valerie pushed Chelsea over to the side of the room, towards two hooks on the wall she hadn’t even noticed before. Halana and Alena reached into the back of Chelsea’s yoga pants and grabbed her panties, giving her an atomic wedgie that lifted her off the ground, and hung her up by the hooks. Chelsea kicked the air but quickly felt her wrists and ankles being tightly taped together.

The sorority girls left her hanging on the wall with a mouthful of hair as they exited the room, making sure to position the mirror so that she could see her bald head.

Trial #121: Head Games

For the next trial, Kevin had something special planned. Valerie had been his star apprentice for the last couple centuries, and he felt she was almost ready to lead her own team. Chelsea’s next torment would be the first time Valerie got to run a scenario of her own design. She had often complained to Kevin that it was unfair the humans were always the ones being tortured, but the demons had to wait for their day off. Thus, Kevin was not surprised when he read what she had submitted for her trial design.

This trial would take place when Chelsea was 26 years old, and the torment would be based around the worst thing she did in her life- had an affair with her best friend Katie’s husband. In real life, Katie never found out, and they cleanly broke off the affair. In this scenario, that wouldn’t exactly be the case.

As Chelsea walked out of Javier’s Cantina, she realized she may have had one too many margaritas. “Hey, any of you guys good to drive?” she asked her friends.

Christina and Gretchen gave non-committal gestures as they gauged their own drunkenness, but Katie interrupted them.

“Actually, I’ve got something else planned for tonight. Let’s head over to my studio.”

Katie owned a small tattoo studio a couple blocks from the establishment where the girls had been drinking. After a short walk where Chelsea deeply regretted her decision to wear high heels, Katie unlocked the door and ushered them all in, locking the door and making sure the blinds were shut behind her.

Katie announced to the group that she had some fucked up news, and opened her phone. She showed them pictures she’d taken of her husband Blake’s phone screen. Text messages with someone named Val where they described their affair in lurid detail. He repeatedly told her how much prettier she was than his “bitch wife”. Chelsea recognized those texts. They were hers. She wasn’t sure why her number was saved as Val in her phone, but her heart pounded in her chest as she realized she had been caught.

“So who the hell is Val?” Gretchen asked.

“I had no idea, so I did some snooping around, and figured it out…” Katie answered. Chelsea debated internally whether to run, or beg for forgiveness, but instead she froze.

“I went to Blake’s restaurant” Katie continued “And what is the name of the hostess that greets me? Valerie! She knew as soon as I walked in that I was Blake’s wife and the mother of his children, and she just smiled and greeted me like she wasn’t ruining my fucking life.”

Chelsea breathed a sigh of relief. She was off the hook for now.

“So that’s why I had to take matters into my own hands!” Katie exclaimed.

Huh.

Katie opened the door to her office in the back of the shop. A girl sat on her chair, looking terrified, with her mouth gagged and her arms attached to the chair with fuzzy handcuffs. Though her makeup was running down her face, it was obvious that she was very pretty, and she couldn’t have been older than 21.

Katie removed the ball gag from her mouth. “Please let me go! This is a mistake! I never slept with your husband, I barely talk to him.” She begged.

“Shut up!” Katie screamed at her as she backhand slapped her across the face.

“Cal I please have some water, I’m so thirsty.” The girl bargained. Katie took a bottle of water that had been sitting on the desk and poured it in her mouth, then put the ball gag back in.

“Bitch won’t even admit to it!” Katie shouted in frustration “I mean can you believe that? Not only did she fuck a man that she knew had a wife and kids, she doesn’t even have the decency to fess up once they get caught. What kind of garbage human being does that?”

“Damn” Christina responded, “That’s fucked up” Gretchen added.

Chelsea felt called out, but it was better this poor girl than her. If Katie were willing to kidnap and assault a complete stranger for sleeping with her husband, she didn’t want to know what she would do if she knew who those texts were actually from.

Katie had an evil look on her face. She addressed her friends. “The thing that Blake kept saying over and over again was how much prettier Val is than me, so we’re going to do something about that.” She reached in her desk and pulled out a pair of cordless clippers, turning them on and putting them at the center of Valerie’s forehead, just fractions of an inch away from her hairline.

“Should I do it?” She looked at her friends. Christina nodded, Gretchen nodded, and they all looked towards Chelsea. “Well, should I?” She felt bad for this girl, about to suffer for her sins, but if she told the truth, Katie would probably put her in that chair and shave her head. She treasured her locks and had put so much time and money into them. She decided she’d rather watch that fate befall this stranger and hope Katie would think she got revenge.

“Do it!” Chelsea responded decisively.

As soon as she was given the signal, Katie plunged the clippers down the middle of Valerie’s head. She handed them to Christina, who mowed another strip, and Christina passed the clippers to Chelsea. “Sorry” she said under her breath to the poor girl, as she mercilessly clipped another path through the hair at the top of her head. After a couple rounds, the only hair the girl had left was a little at the back under the ball gag and stubble. Then Katie spread some shaving cream over the top of Valerie’s head, and shaved the top part smooth with a disposable razor, leaving stubble and long hair on the sides. She sanitized the bare skin as if she was preparing the area for a tattoo.

It turned out, that was exactly what she was doing. Katie produced a tattoo gun. “Should I?” she asked her friends. Once again, Chelsea was the last to respond. “I mean, something permanent like that’s a little extreme, don’t you think?” She protested.

Katie argued back “Well, the reason why the father of my two children fucked this girl is because he thought she was prettier than me, and he’ll still probably think that when she grows her hair back. Hell, she could put a wig on and nobody would even notice. Don’t you think that’s kind of a light punishment for what she did?”

Chelsea felt like she was outnumbered 3 to 1, so she shrugged and gave her approval. She could protest more, or just leave, but she worried that might raise suspicions.

Chelsea wrote the word “SLUT” backwards in tall letters, covering Valerie’s entire forehead and some of her scalp. She did not take her time at all, and the final product came out extremely crude looking, something a professional like Katie would put on a client’s skin. Then she tattooed an equally crude cock and balls on Valerie’s left cheek.

She wasn’t done yet. Chelsea was horrified that somehow Katie still wasn’t satisfied with what she had done to this girl.

The next instrument Katie retrieved from her desk was a pair of pliers. Chelsea looked anxiously at them, not even wanting to guess what they were for. Katie removed the ball gag from Valerie’s mouth and clamped the pliers around one of her front teeth. “She has such perfect teeth.” Katie proclaimed with a wide grin. She gave the tooth a yank, loosening but not removing it.

“Actually, why should I have all the fun? Chels, you can do this one.”

Chelsea was starting to have serious reservations.

“Whoa, uhh, I know you’re mad… and you should be… but aren’t we committing like, serious crimes here? We could all go to prison for a long time for this!” she bargained, no longer able to make herself seem unfazed.

“Oh don’t worry” Katie assured her. “There were like, a shitload of drugs in that water I gave her. That’s why she’s not even screaming at me right now. She is tripping balls! Plus she’s got an arrest record as long as the hair we just shaved off. Drugs, burglary, even arson. I found 5 mugshots in this county alone. I’m gonna open up tomorrow morning and find this girl who took too much, broke into my shop, gave herself a haircut, tattoo and some amateur dental work, and I’m gonna call one of the many cops I’ve inked to come check it out. And silly me, I keep meaning to get my security camera fixed but it’s still out of order. So don’t worry, nothing will happen to us for this.”

Chelsea didn’t want to, but everyone was looking at her, and Valerie didn’t seem like she could even feel anything, so she did it anyway, yanking and yanking until the tooth came out, almost falling to the ground when it finally came free.

Valerie was actually fully conscious. This was the part of the trial she had looked forward to the most. She loved having all her teeth yanked out with pliers when she went for a spa day, but to get a human to do it, that was a rare and unique experience.

Katie, Christina and Gretchen cheered for Chelsea. “Do the next one!” They egged on. So she pulled another tooth, and another, and another.

Suddenly they heard the door unlock and swing open. They heard a man’s voice from the main part of the studio.

“Baby, are you in here?” He cried out. It was Blake. Katie exited the office and shut the door behind her, leaving the other four girls out of his view.

They heard him through the wall. “Katie, I’m so sorry, I know you saw the text messages… I know Chelsea has been your best friend since high school. I just, ever since I met you I’ve always thought she was so beautiful. I’m sorry, I’m so weak, when she started coming on to me I couldn’t say no.”

“Get out!” she screamed at him. They heard something crashing and Blake ran out, slamming the door behind him.

Suddenly Christina and Gretchen fixated their stares on Chelsea. She looked at the drugged-out girl they’d been torturing, but she no longer appeared out-of-it. She sat up straight in her chair, smiling and licking the hole in her mouth where her top teeth had been, eyes locked on Chelsea like an apex predator.

Oh… shit.

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