Dark Paradise – II

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DARK PARADISE – II

Part One (here)

The first two nights since Dark Paradise I had fitful sleep. And then from the third night onward, I dreamt of that evening—dread and arousal in equal parts—and woke up with wet, aching pussy every time. I was marched down naked and blindfolded before a crowd and plunged into submission by a cruel, relentless hand only to have him cut my hair in a brutal fashion.

It was no cute pixie or a sexy buzzcut. It was a little boy’s cut with side parting and bald back and sides. The longest length on my head was barely an inch on top. 

And to my surprise, every time I ran my hands over my head, I would drip in shame and come in carnal despair. Maybe this is what Declan Treventa was talking about when he doused me in my humiliation and watched me come apart under his dominance. The fetish he sowed inside of me was as savage as erotic.

You know who you are now, little wench. I will look forward to another evening if you are brave enough to accept who you are.

Then, I remembered the words of the barber. “She is going to need a cleanup in two weeks.” 

At the end of two weeks, there was barely any growth. Only the sides and the back developed a stubble and the length on top was barely noticeable. But I was not ready to be brave enough to step into Dark Paradise or submit to the dark desires of Declan Treventa. 

In fact, I fought hard to hate myself to seek pleasure in my degradation.

It lasted for a month and a few days. 

Then I found myself at the entrance of Dark Paradise Club.

“Good evening, Miss. I am going to need to see your Member’s ID,” the receptionist at the desk greeted. She was a different one than the last time.

“Umm…Hello.” I smiled awkwardly. “Actually, I don’t have one. I have this pass,” I told her and provided her with the VIP pass like the last time. 

She returned it. “I am sorry, but the Club’s not open to outsiders tonight. It’s a Member’s Only for tonight.”

“Can I see Mr. Declan Treventa?” I chanced.

“Do you have an appointment?” 

“I don’t but…never mind. Thank you.”

I grabbed the pass and turned around to leave. It was a stupid idea, I rebuked myself. I reached for my purse, stuffing the pass crumbled under my sweaty fingers when I collided with a wall of muscles. 

“Shit…Fuck…I am so—”

My throat closed and my mouth parted as those dark eyes fixed on me. Steady and intent. He was so much in control of himself that not a glint of surprise crossed his profile when he saw me. 

“Julia Evans,” he said simply.

“I was hoping we could—” …talk.

“Come.” That voice. Cold and relentless. 

One word. One command and that was all it took for me to follow him into the club and his office once again. 

He walked around to lounge back in his chair, completely ignoring my presence as I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. He did not invite me to sit or even acknowledge my presence for a solid five minutes, busying himself with instructions over the phone and then tapping away on the keyboard. 

Should I leave? Should I sit? 

“Come closer,” he demanded, without lifting his eyes from the keyboard. 

I did, standing a little away from his chair.

He looked up briefly, before grabbing his phone and issued another command like a casual conversation. “Strip.”

I opened my mouth to say something but I was lost. So I obeyed, knowing that my nakedness was inevitable. I reached for the zipper, pulled it down and shrugged out of the dress. 

“Everything,” he prompted, reading into my hesitation. His attention was still on his phone as he sat like a bored monarch in his court. I wanted to yank at the collar of his expensive silk shirt and make him look at me.

My shame was simmering into anger as I unhooked the bra and pulled down the panty with no grace at all. 

He tapped a spot with his leather loafers on the tiled floor, a few inches away from him. “Kneel here.”

I could have protested. Should have. 

As if he had taken away my will, I lowered down at his feet when he finally turned his attention on me. His gaze fell between legs, as he bent and reached out to trace the V line I had created in the morning. Somehow, I knew I’d found myself back here, naked and open.

“You are freshly trimmed,” he noted.

“Yes.”

His forefinger and thumb trapped my clit and gave a sharp pull. Ow. It took me a few seconds to remember that this was a scolding.

“Sir. Yes, sir.”  

He nodded and slid a finger up and down the shaved vulva. “And already wet.” 

Before I could say another word, a knock resounded at the door. “Theo, come in.” 

The tall, blonde barber walked with a slow smile and settled down on the couch. “I see your little hair pet is back.” 

“Like I said,” Declan boasted.  

He patted my pussy and straightened up. “Go on, little wench. Crawl to him.”   

I sucked in a breath to swallow the self-worth, reducing myself to go on all fours before Declan nudged my ass with the tip of his shoe. I crawled. The hard floor gave away to the plush carpet as I stopped at the feet of the barber.   

His fingers ran over my bowed head, pinching the top to gauge the length and then skimmed over soft bristled sides and back. 

“I had said two weeks. It’s more than two week’s growth.” 

“I know,” Declan sighed from his chair. “She will be punished for that. For taking so long to come to me, even though she knew what she wanted—what she craved.” I dared a glance at him. 

“What should we do with the hair?” Theo asked. 

“I liked the previous one. It’s a shame she grew out so much. Give her something shorter.” My heartbeat ricocheted. By now, I understood his fascination for short hair, but I still could not fathom how deep and carnal his fetish was.   

“A flattop, perhaps, with high whitewalls?” Theo suggested. 

“I’d like that. But first, I’d like to take care of her punishment.” 

“Suit yourself.” With that Theo left, leaving me at his hands. 

“On your hands and knees, little wench. And face the door.”

I acceded, turning away from him. My ears strained to listen to the sound of a cardboard opening and then the shuffle of his footsteps. Declan lowered himself a little, whispering.‘Red’. And then he squeezed the asscheeks. “Remember this as your magic word. You say this and I will stop. All of this will stop. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Sir.”

Before I even have the time to wonder what it was that he was going to do to punish me, there’s a sharp crack and a stripe of fire searing along the side of my ass. This was followed by three successive smacks, and by the eight lash of the leather I had stopped counting. 

I wanted to hate myself for all that I’d become, that I didn’t want romantic or respectful or tender. I wanted to be spanked, humiliated and shorn by a dominant. 

By the time Declan had stopped spanking me, I was spent. He seemed to be admiring his handiwork, chafing his large palms against the welts he’s left all over my ass to thighs. 

He then tapped one of the welts. “C’mon, time for your haircut now.” 

Thankfully, he didn’t make me crawl this time. But as I was led outside to the same spot as last time, I noticed that the crowd was bigger. More people, more humiliation—I gulped. 

Theo was already waiting, with a cart full of his menacing tools. Except, there was no barber chair like the last time. Instead, a wooden stool was placed beside him. 

“Nice stripes,” Theo commented when Declan handed me back to him. I was made to seat on the wooden stool, a little taller for my profile and as soon as my punished ass came in contact with the wood, I hissed. 

Theo laughed, slapping my breasts in rebuke. “There’s nothing I love than a punished ass on the seat. No matter how much they love to squirm, they can’t.”  

“I don’t care if she squirms or squeals, scalp her good, Theo.”

The next thing I knew, my hands were bound at the small of my back and my knees were tied to the wooden legs in such a manner it was spread wide open for the onlookers. 

“Legs spread, cunt open, tits out. You wouldn’t need a cape,” the barber relished and picked up something from the cart. 

“Open your mouth, girl,” he ordered. I complied and he shoved a closed straight razor with a wooden handle between my teeth. “Hold this tight. If the razor falls, there will be consequences.” 

My gaze sought Declan, who sat from across me and appreciated the sight of me—gagged with a razor, bound and spread to an audience. 

When the clippers came alive, I knew what was coming. Theo grabbed my head roughly, stripping the stubble at the sideburns and climbing over the temples. It was much higher than the last time and I was convinced that this time it would be brutal. He was done with the sides and back in under a minute and grabbed the scissors. He did short work on top as red hairs sprinkled all over my naked body. 

Something was smeared all over the top of my head. The barber held me firmly by the nape while he took a stiff hair brush and vigorously brushed the top. The feeling grew cathartic.

Once again, he took the clippers and ran it from my forehead to my crown, leaving something on top. I guessed it was the flattop he’d suggested earlier. I had seen that extreme hairstyle on men, but never had I imagined one on myself. 

“Is this the shortest you can do?” Declan asked from his seat, seeming bored.

“I can go shorter. It will be more of a horseshoe with a nice landing strip.”

The fire between my legs flamed. I dared to look at him, begging, pleading to end this with a flattop but at the same time, I wondered what he’d choose. My hair had been subjected to his will ever since I stepped inside his domain.  

Declan smirked before announcing, “Give her a horseshoe then.” 

And with that decree, my fate was sealed. 

I didn’t know what it looked like but I knew it would be ugly. 

Theo pushed my head down to my chest to expose the top of my head to the audience and brought the clippers to the middle of my head. It whirred loudly when came in touch and sailed toward the crown. The barber made it a point to drop the chunk of little hairs in front of me and made another few passes around that. 

With every trail of vibration, I shivered with the need to come. I begged for any friction against my clit and every time I’d squirm ever so slightly, my welted ass would hurt. 

“I think she should see how it looks on her,” the barber addressed the audience who hooted with pleasure when a girl held up a hand mirror in front of my face.

Fuck. I looked ridiculous. I was bald. My entire head was clipper shaved, except for a horrible strip of U-shaped hair around the top. What was even humiliating, was the way the razor was jammed between my teeth as drool trailed down from the corner of my lips. 

“That is brutally short,” Declan agreed with a smile. 

Theo nodded and purposely circled my trimmed pubes with his fingers. “She has more hair down here than on her head.”  

“Is my little wench wet, Theo?” Declan asked.  

The barber parted my lips with fingers, exposing me lasciviously before the crowd and Declan. “She’s dripping.” 

I was on the edge now—moaning through the razor.

He, then, picked up a small trimmer, proposing, “Perhaps, this will make her feel a little better about her head.” 

Without a preamble, the trimmer came in contact with my pubes and I lost it. “Fu—” The razor dropped and clattered to the floor while pleasure ripped through me as I came violently, and my pussy clenched tight and then released.

I realised that I would have fallen from the chair had I not been tied. 

“Tsk. Tsk,” the barber clucked his tongue while Declan held an amusing look. “What did I tell you if you drop the razor?” 

“Consequences,” I whispered, knowing I might be lined up for another punishment. 

“I believe disobedient subs should be punished,” Theo declared and then clamped a hand over my forehead as he forced my head back. 

The trimmer, which was still poised in his hands, sailed over my eyebrows before I could even gasp. 

Oh, my God. No, no, no…

He reduced my eyebrows to nothing, running the trimmer again and again until he was satisfied. At last, he rubbed a thumb over the denuded area and let go of my head. 

Somehow, the audience turned raucous. But all that mattered to me at that moment was what Declan thought as if his approval would somehow pacify the stormy feeling inside my head. And it did. When I watched him fixed me with a glance that was purely gratifying and possessive. 

He’d enjoyed every bit of my haircut humiliation—be it my long red tresses, or the pubes and even my eyebrows—as I’d let him do that to me. And by the heated look on his face, I knew he wanted more. 

“It’s a shame to let her keep that strip of hair on her head when she’s otherwise bare,” Declan proclaimed, and with his eyes still fixed on me, he ordered, “Go ahead, Theo. Shave my little wench bald.” 

I let out a breath and bowed my head in submission. There was no point in fighting the inevitable when I had gone this far to ever come back. 

The barber wasted no time driving the clipper through the U-shaped strip of hair and within seconds, warm lather was massaged into my scalp. Theo took his time, spreading it leisurely and then grabbed the straight razor—the one that cost me my eyebrows. 

He pressed his thumb to my temple, making the skin taut and used small strokes to shave me. The rasping sound of the blade against my scalp stimulated another building orgasm. He would fold down my ears this side and that and remove any remnant of my red hair. 

Every second of every minute was a divine torture. 

I endured every scrape of the razor mutely, savoured every moment of my humiliation and when I had squirmed, I felt the acute soreness of chafing against the wood.

I was on edge. 

And all it took for the second orgasm to rip through me was when Declan came over and rubbed his hand over my head to check for perfection. He inspected every inch of my scalp and my eyebrows, even my barren pussy like I was his prized possession.

“Fuck, she is so smooth,” he hissed and when I slanted a look at his pants, I watched his erection almost bulging. 

“Looks like your hair wench loves the cueball look, Declan,” Theo laughed.  

Declan freed my hands and legs as I wobbled to get a footing but he had different plans. I was grabbed by the scruff of my neck and bent over the high wooden stool and made to grab the legs. 

My ass was jutted high in the air as I felt the hot tip of his dick at my entrance. I gasped and turned my head as he bent over me and gritted in a harsh whisper, “Say ‘Red’ and I will stop.” 

I paused, closed my eyes and bowed my head.

And that was the beginning of the end of my will over my body and soul. 

In the coming months, I belong to Declan Treventa. His collared submissive. His hair wench. His to punish.

There were days he’d shave my head in pleasure and in punishment, and he’d sometimes let Theo do it, just to add a little salt to my humiliation. He’d let my eyebrows grow, however faint it looked. 

But my head was shaved every week, only after he’d spank me raw and watch me squirm for relief. 

_____________

Thank you for reading the series. Do you want a third part of Dark Paradise? 

 

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