Fall of the Larion Queen

You are Trevor, a noble living in the kingdom of Larion.

You are shaving a little girl’s head in the middle of the arena, while the crowd looks, excited. It was kinda sad that you were shaving the little girl’s 300 meters of crimson locks, but you didn’t arrive at your position as the royal barber for asking questions.

The girl was trembling.

After being taught her whole life that Larion bald women were shameful, the thought of becoming one urged her to cry and plead like crazy.

“I’m sorry, but you were warned that any insult directed to our Queen would result in this.” You say as you proceed to chop locks of her head in front of the screaming crowd.

You felt bad about this. After all, this was the first child you shaved bald. Even still, you did what you had to do. You’d rather be branded a renegade than insult the Queen. Because a renegade was still allowed to grow their hair. However, those who insult the Queen are met with a harsher punishment. And so, you took your time cropping her mane at various lengths. After all, a Larion headshave takes time.

A really long time.

Larion women are known to be extremely vain creatures. And it is not unusual for a woman to spend hundreds of gold coins to have her mane done in a style that will make her feel good about herself. After all, most Larion women have kilometers of long hair, so making a style is an arduous process. This little girl, with her 300 meters of crimson hair, was considered short-haired by Larion women’s standarts. Even still, she was getting a haircut. And you were about to shave her head entirely. Luckily, the crowd was getting restless.

“SHOW HER HORNS! SHOW HER HORNS!”, the crowd chanted.

The little girl was terrified, as the sound of humming coming from the clippers filled the air. Her shorn piles of crimson hair covered most of the floor of the arena, falling from the top of the sacrificial pillar where you were shaving the little girl. The little girl tried to free herself from the chair, but it was useless: the restraints could even subdue an elephant. And so, the little girl cried louder and louder, to not hear the crowd’s mockery and screams.

But it was pointless: as you passed the clippers around her head, the white horns, a shameful feature that all Larion women possess, started appearing in the midst of her crimson stubble. The girl screamed as the people in the coliseum around her cheered, which only caused her pain to increase. Then, as the last lock was shorn by your clippers, you freed the little girl’s hands, that bolted towards her own head. You turned off the buzzing when you heard the little girl scream.

You felt bad.

On the one hand, you knew that she was getting a harsher punishment than she deserved. On the other hand, you did what you had to do. And you enjoyed your job so much that you cleaned her white horns with a sheet, making them more noticeable to the mocking crowd. The girl was now a Larion renegade, a social pariah that would get disowned by her own parents just to avoid her shameful presence. The crowd was still making a mockery of the girl. And the little girl was still crying, rubbing her red stubble. It was abrasive to her delicate hands, a cruel replacement of her piles and piles of shiny, crimson hair.

She could sense its unnatural texture, its stiff bristles and rough patches. She felt like she was in a nightmare, surrounded by jeering fans and snickering guards. But, unfortunately for the little girl, her punishment wasn’t still over. The Queen, seeing everything from her throne, high in the arena, started climbing down some moving stairs, all the way until the top of the pillar, where you and the shorn little girl were. Then, with a raise of her hand, silenced the crowd.

“Barber, step aside!”, ordered the Queen, pointing a long, bony finger to you.

“Shameful!” said the Queen, looking directly at the little girl. “Was insulting me, your Queen, worth it, you disgusting bald renegade?”

“No, Your Majesty!”, the little girl replied while weeping, lowering her shorn head, with her white horns visible, “I will…I will no longer insult you…”

While the Queen was berating the bald little girl, you couldn’t avoid looking passionately to the Queen. The Queen was a really tall and imposing woman that, despite her small chest and butt, was still the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen. Her purple hair was all stored inside two suppressors, one on each side of her head, looking like metal vials strapped to her head. But her eyes… The Queen’s eyes were sharp yellow, making anyone tremble in fear upon her gaze, resembling a cruel and sly animal.

“No, you won’t.”, the Queen grinned, putting her hand up, where a slimy substance was resting on her palm, “Not anymore.”

“What…what is that?”, the little girl whispered, not knowing about the purple mud.

“Barber!”, the Queen simply called.

“Of course, my Queen.”, you said, knowing what you had to do.

You then grabbed the little girl’s arms, trapping them again in the chair. The Queen’s hand rubbed, with all her strength and malice, the purple mud on the little girl’s crimson stubble. After some seconds, the little girl started to scream, as her roots were being burned. When the little girl’s head became smooth and red from the burn, you wiped the mud off. Now, as the crowd started mocking again, the little girl was irreversibly bald.

“By the gods…”, said the little girl, wheezing every time she touched her smooth head, “What have you done to me?”

The Queen watched the whole scene with interest.

“Tell her, barber Trevor.”, ordered the Queen, while looking to the bottom of the pillar, where the shorn crimson locks of the little girl were covering the sand around the arena.

As you told the little girl about her permanent baldness, she launched a shriek from the bottom of her heart, mourning the loss of her precious hair. While all the men in the crowd laughed with genuine pleasure at the loss of that little girl, the women, although also laughing, were touching their suppressors, caressing those metallic shells that stored their enormous lengths of hair, terrified of the idea of becoming like the little girl: a bald pariah.

“My hair…my hair…”, mourned the little bald girl, her eyes and cheeks as red as her smooth burned head.

But the show wasn’t still over. After cleaning her hand with a silky rug, disgusted at the purple mud, the Queen slowly moved her hands towards the large suppressors on her head.

You smiled ear to ear, your heart pumping faster, knowing what the Queen, that beautiful woman you loved to the depts of your soul, was going to do.

Clicking some noisy buttons, the suppressors made a vacuum sound, releasing a huge cloud of steam, created by the sudden release of the heat formed by the Queen’s purple mane. After waiting a few seconds, where the steam completely engulfed the arena, the crowd started cringing, covering their eyes. As the metallic suppressors made a huge bang when they fell to the floor, your heart almost stopped in awe when you saw the Queen’s luxurious purple mane falling down the pillar, like a waterfall, covering the entire crimson shorn mane of the little girl which, in turn, was only covering the sand of the arena.

However, the Queen’s shiny and thick purple mane kept pouring on the arena, reaching the lower countertops, fifty meters above the sand. The arena became full of wavy, purple hair, resembling a pond full of turbulent water. The women on the lower countertops picked up their combs, brushing carefully the Queen’s perfect locks, hoping to fall in her good graces.

The Queen, however, didn’t care about the brushings: they were just a way to show her superiority. You sighed in pleasure, seeing that the pillar had become just a tiny island in the midst of that sea of purple hair. The purple hair was so thick that you couldn’t see the end of it. You have always thought how much time it would take to shave the Queen’s luxurious mane. Although Larion women’s hair was naturally thick as hell, and the shorn pieces could serve as the toughest ropes, the Queen’s hair was way thicker than that. You had taken fifteen minutes to shorn that little girl’s crimson locks and they weren’t really thick, compared to Larion women’s standards. Now the Queen seemed to be on a whole other level. By your assumptions, the Queen’s purple mane could be so thick that the clippers could take just fifteen minutes in each passing. Not that you would dare to try out: many people lost their lives, trying to cut the Queen’s gorgeous mane.

You snuffed away those thoughts, as the Queen graciously moved her hand to her mane, separating one strand from the rest. Then, the Queen moved her head to you. One more time, you knew what you had to do. Taking a crimson strand of the floor, you gave it to the Queen. Feeling the texture of the crimson lock on her hand, the Queen grinned maliciously.

“You really think this is hair, little girl?”, laughed the Queen, slapping the little girl with her own red lock, “This is hair, you dirty sinner!”

With that, the Queen rubbed all her face and head with her pure purple strand, passing it between the white horns, her silk was, indeed, the greatest hair to ever exist. When compared to the Queen’s marvelous mane, the little girl’s crimson locks seemed unkept. Even abrasive! The little girl cried, even more, humiliated beyond repair. She would no more be a woman of Larion, but a dirty pariah, a disgusting being that would deserve nothing more than pity. Her white horns, already popping out of her skull, were the brand of her misfortune. If the little girl wished to live in peace and dignity, she would have to leave Larion as soon as possible. Although the little girl would never have a chance to go home, she could potentially be saved from her fate.

And so, after that humiliating procedure made by the Queen, her suppressors sucked her hair back, like a mouth sucking spaghetti, drying the sea of purple hair around the pillar. Now, the only thing at the bottom was the little girl’s hair, which still covered the sand in red, but was no match to the Queen’s mane. The little girl, now without color, without life, just a bald husk of her former self, accompanied you to a room. There, you gave her 4-meter strands of her former 300-meter crimson hair, combined on a wig. The wig, although a pale reflection of the hair that originated it, would hide her horns, allowing her to live peacefully in exile. Besides, 4-meter hair was, by other countries standards, really long, instead of ridiculously short by Larion’s standards. The little girl accepted your gift with a sad smile on her face.

“Thank you, Royal Barber.”, she said to you, “I will cherish this gift as much as I loved my hair.”

You were about to open the door to leave, but the girl stopped you. Her eyes were dry, but the little girl was determined.

“Tell me, why do you obey the Queen?”, she asked, “She’s evil in every sense of the way. Also, she is mean to me and all her female servants! And I lost my hair insulting the Queen for that…”

“I obey the Queen because, even though she is ruthless, she still is the best, most capable, woman to rule this kingdom,” you said, while the little girl put on her wig, made of the remnants of her crimson mane, “And you know the Larion rules: the most long-haired woman is the Queen.”

“But you know what happened to her rivals to the throne”, whispered the little girl, angry, “After all, they were all accused of crimes against her. And they all lost their manes. At your hand.”

You sighed. You became flustered when you remembered all those gorgeous women, pleading for mercy, as their massive manes were shaved by your hand. The humming of the clippers, eating bit by bit of their tresses. And your favourite part was the look of mixed disbelief, shock and shame when they rubbed their bald heads, while the Queen and everyone else mocked them relentlessly.

“Admit it! You gained a liking, a kink, of shaving heads, haven’t you?” the little girl followed up the whisper. You could feel her hot breath in your ear.

“Yes.”, you whispered back, “I love shaving heads. As much as I enjoyed shaving yours.”

“So why don’t you try to shave the Queen?”, she asked, her eyes becoming wet, “You have all the chances to do it at that pillar. So why not?”

If you wanted to do it, you could do it. The only thing stopping you was the fact that it would mean death.

“It is still not the time for that…”, you whispered, after looking around the room, “There is a rebellion rising and, if you want the Queen to pay for her crimes, you will be silent about it, ok?”

“If you think so…” It would be best not to get caught up in a mess like the one that was brewing, especially when your life was, in a sense, on the line already.

“So, Larion men are tired of being treated like slaves by our women. So, we are plotting to shave the Queen permanently with the purple mud, making her an example for everyone else. But, by now, we have been acting in the shadows, waiting for the day where the Queen will pay for everything she has done.”, you explained, before touching a thin lock from the little girl’s wig, “And, if you hate the Queen so much, I want you to do something while you’re on exile.”

“What…?”, the little girl asked, with her eyes narrowing.

“I want you to spread rumours about Larion’s great wealth to all the desperate women from other countries that you can find in your exile, then guide them to Larion’s frontier.”, you explained the little girl, that looked at you in awe when she finally understood.

“OK…”, the little girl said, slowly passing her fingers at one of the strands of the 4-meter red wig she was wearing, “It’s not the same thing…”

“I know…”, you said to the little girl, “But, if it makes you feel good, I think you look better bald than with all those piles of suffocating crimson hair you had.”

“You really think so?”, the little girl asked, looking into your eyes, “I mean, if it wasn’t for my shameful horns, I could be misidentified as a man.”

“Yes.”, you said, hugging the little girl’s small body, “Be well, beautiful child.” You felt the girl’s hand clench onto your arm, finally bursting in tears.

“Was I… did you enjoy shaving my head, Royal Barber?”, she asked you, “Snipping bit by bit of my gorgeous crown of hair?”

“You were very brave. You looked so pretty, so dignified.”, you answered, smiling ear to ear, “It was joyful to fleece you like a sheep. Many other Larion women, including the Queen, would have lost their minds faced with such loss. But you kept your cool, and that is an admirable trait that even queens envy.”

The little girl took her wig off, revealing her shiny bald head, adorned with her bone horns. She looked beautiful to you, so serene, so exotic. Then, she kissed you on the cheek.

“I’ll miss you,” she said to you, before jumping out of your arms, “I hope the rebellion is successful. But, even if it isn’t…thank you. I needed to see beauty in me. Even after being humiliated like this.”, the little girl rubbed her head, still grossed out by its smoothness, “I think I’ll keep the wig around.”

“I can live with that,” you said, “Good luck… little one.”

The little girl ran out of the room, the hair on her wig trailing behind her. You looked at the empty chair where the little girl had sat, and, for a moment, though how would it be if all the women of Larion understood that life was more than just their heads of hair. Then, you went back to your work.

***

Some hours later…

You were walking through the castle, amazed at its colossal, highly decorative, walls and ceiling. It looked like a work of art. As you roamed through those corridors, made so that the Queen could walk around freely with her kilometers of purple hair trailing behind her. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling, made out of hundreds of gemstones. Faintly, you could hear the sound of water dripping onto stone, coming from the large roof. You were called by the Queen for something that you were about to know. So, there you were.

As you approached the doors to the Queen’s chambers, a group of muscled women surrounded you, led by Regina. If Regina weren’t so muscled, you might have liked her. Her huge suppressor hung upon her head like a beehive, storing her 12 kilometers of straight blond hair. Like all the other Amazons, Regina had a strand shorter than the rest of her hair. It was like that because the Amazons, on their last day of recruitment, had to cut one of their locks, by themselves, to prove their absolute loyalty to the Queen. Many women refused to do such a cruel task, but the ones who did would become the elite warriors of Larion.

And so, all Amazons had a lock dangling on their faces, that they had to cut every five days so that they remained as short as possible. Regina wore a black corset and pencil jeans, with kneehigh boots. Next to her, you could see her bulging muscles, shining under her tight clothing.

“Royal Barber Trevor, the Queen awaits in her chambers.”, Regina informed you, “But first, we have to make a search on your body. If we find anything sharp…” Regina punched her hand, menacingly. “… We’ll have to punish you.”, she finished.

The Amazons, standing orderly, like a row of soldiers, stood around you.

“Why would I be dumb enough to bring my tools here, lady Regina?”, you asked her, annoyed, but you still let them search you because there was nothing more you could do.

The Amazon search was surprisingly gentle, considering their physical abilities. They even helped you out of your clothes, and you were about to dress up again when they glared at you.

“The Queen ordered us to keep you naked.”, said Regina, narrowing her eyes. You weren’t really healthy: you were so skinny that even your ribs showed up. Not that you ate much: after all, your work was so important that you were the most high-ranking man in Larion. Only the Queen and the Amazons could order you around. Sure, you could understand that the Queen forbade any type of hair cutting utensils around her: after all, she has done, it was obvious that she wished to keep the safety of her mane. However, you didn’t get why the Queen wanted you naked. Regina was twirling her lock, happily.

Then, banging on the door, said: “My Queen! The Royal Barber Trevor is free from blades, clippers, and clothes!”

“Excellent job, Captain!”, you heard the voice of the Queen coming from beyond the door, “Allow my guest to enter alone!”

Regina smirked at you, holding her lock. The Amazons grabbed you, pulling you away from the opening doors. At first, you didn’t understand why would they do it. But, as the doors opened, you saw a wave of purple hair hitting the floor where you all were seconds ago.

“Well…good luck!”, said Regina, still twirling her blond lock.

The entire door was clogged in the purple mane, that shinned brightly, reflecting the lights of the corridor. The Queen’s mane was her most prized possession. A possession you and most men of Larion were planning to remove from the Queen’s head. As you slowly dove inside the Queen’s mane, you heard the Amazons struggling to close the door, without harming a single hair of their Matriarch. You crouched and started to crawl through the hair.

You had to get through the mane in order to reach the source of the purple mane: the other side of the room, where the Queen was sitting on her bed. Your hands kept moving those huge clumps of hair aside, being met by more hair. It was like trying to open an infinite amount of silky, dense curtains. Weirdly, you felt that all her hair was getting warmer the more you advance. You knew that Larion women, aside from having the longest manes in the world, also could control their temperature, since they had nerves inside their manes. That meant that Larion women could feel everything that was happening to their hair, almost like a limb that grows fast after being cut.

Odd enough, you knew that, the warmer the hair, the most intense the feeling. Was she angry with you? You only could walk, praying that the Queen hasn’t heard of your plans to shave her head. After all, the death penalty was only applicable to Larion men. You could be trembling, but the warmth of that purple silk engulfing your naked body was enough to calm you down. After five minutes of walking through that colossal mane that covered the entire room, you arrived at the bed. There, you saw an opening in the hair: there, the Queen was laying down, with her hair going up, making a dome of air where you two could move freely. Aside from the bed, you couldn’t see anything more around, since everything else was covered in the thick, purple mane of the Queen.

“My Queen?”, you called, looking at your Matriarch, “Why are you naked?”

“Oh, hello, Barber…”, the Queen said, with her red cheeks, while looking at the middle of your legs. You looked down and saw the Queen’s eyes going up and down your body, as she started to blush.

“Hmmm…why did you call me…, My Queen?”, you asked, embarrassed, gazing at the walls of the purple dome made of her mane, that was releasing vapor, “Is it something I’ve done?”

“No, no…”, the Queen started, while sitting on the bed, looking at you. “Well, what is it?”

“It’s your body…I’d like to…touch it…”, admitted the Queen, approaching you.

Your eyes widened. The Queen was a young lady, that has been ruling for only five years. So, you knew she was a virgin. So, why now? And why you, of all the Larion men?

“My Queen…”, you said, looking at the ground. The Queen, sensing the fear in your eyes, started to laugh.

“Don’t be afraid, Royal Barber!”, she said to you, “What is your name?”

“Trevor…”, you answered, still not daring to look at the Queen. “My Queen…”

“Stop calling me Queen.”, she ordered you, raising the temperature of her mane, “In here, you can call me by my real name.”

“That is…?”

“Kassandra…”

“It…is a beautiful name.”, you told her, “It’s my favorite name for a woman.”

Queen Kassandra blushed heavily. Her small boobs weren’t anything special, neither her hips nor ass. But her hair…her hair! It was glorious! And you were planning to shave it all when you had the chance.

“Trevor…”, she said to you, her eyes burning through your body with desire, “I want you to give me a child…”

You felt the blood draining from your face.

“K…K…Kassandra…”, you stuttered, looking at her, “How…why do you want to do that?”

“Because, from all the men of Larion, you are the one with the highest title.”, she answered, while petting one of her massive strands, that looked like a piton, “And the Amazons have advised me to have a child with my hair growth qualities so that in the future, royal children have a higher hair growth than commoners. But I need a man. And, from all Larion men, I deem you the most trustworthy.”

You were speechless.

“So, will you do it, Trevor?”, asked Queen Kassandra, extending her lock closer to your cock, “No? Maybe you just need a little motivation…”

So, she wrapped her massive lock around your dick, making a purple cocoon of silk. You felt your blood flowing faster in your dick, as the Queen thrust the cocoon with her hand, a little more rough than what you are used to.

“Ohhhh…Kass…!”

“Do you like that, Trevor?”

You bit your upper lip, feeling all that pleasure going to your head.

“Fuck yes.”, you groaned. Kassandra, in her dizzying lust, grabbed your hand and placed it on the roots of her mane.

“Tell me, do you love my hair?”, she asked, excited. You took your hand out of the cocoon and caressed her hair, running your fingers through the silky strands.

“Good…”, Kassandra said, while her cheeks got redder. Kassandra kissed you, her mouth tasted like vanilla. You could feel her tongue intertwining with yours, as your hands explored each inch of her scalp.

“Don’t…don’t touch my…my horns…”, Kassandra said, ashamed. She didn’t sound like her usual cold and calculative self. As you continued, you felt your body slowly thrusting into the woman’s hair, in a completely unsexual way, as you marveled at the amazing sensation that is her hair.

“Ant…I…” You kissed her again, remorseful for knowing that, in a nearby future, all that hair would be cut off from her roots by your hand. But, you were there on orders, so you didn’t take long to obey them. Your dick, now pulsing, desired that woman. So, you shoved it inside her tight vagina.

“Oh, Trevor, it hurts! It hurts!”, Kassandra said, moaning, “Be careful!”

You thrust into her slowly, as her fingernails dug into your back.

“It’s so big…so hard inside me…it’s…argh…”, she grunted. You kept massaging her scalp.

Those soft locks were rolled in your fingers, giving you the sensation of a marionette controller. And the Queen was your most prized doll.

“I can’t wait to feel you cum inside me…”, she purred, “…show me your load, Ant…!”

You started thrusting into her with enough strength to break through a wall.

“YES! YES! YES!”, screamed Kassandra, clawing in your smooth scalp, as you kept massaging her roots harder. You gritted your teeth, as…as…something was coming out of your dick. It was a meteor of hotness, squirting in her womb. The sensation brought you to your peak yet again.

“AHHHHH….”, Kassandra screamed in pleasure, as the cum started pouring between her legs. After you cummed, you decided to touch her small boobs. However, after touching them, Kassandra slapped your hands.

“Don’t touch in my body!”, she ordered, “Only my hair!”

“But why?”, you asked her, “You have a beautiful body, my Queen. It’s a shame not being able to touch it.”

The Queen widened her eyes, surprised.

“…You…you like my body?”, she mumbled, tears forming in her eyes, “No one has ever said me that. They all just loved my hair…”

She extended one of her hands, stroking your cheek.

“You…you’re so sweet, Ant…”, she told you, “One day, you’ll be rewarded for this. I promise.”

“I know I will.”, you said, smiling, as you carefully stroke her boobs, “So, how much do you love your hair?”

“More than everything”, she said, smiling, placing a kiss on your lips.

You had a feeling she would say that.

“My hair…it is the most beautiful in all of Larion…”, she said, proud, pointing to the dome made of her mane, “This…is the goal that all Larion women aspire to get…My hair gave me everything I could wish for: a kingdom, servants, and beauty. So, I would be nothing without my hair.”

“So…now that we had sex…do you love me?”, you asked, hopeful of, at least, sparing her hair by you becoming the king.

She, after hearing those words, laughed cruelly.

“Please…you’re not that delusional. I merely used you to further my goals. I’m a queen, not a whore. No, you’ll never see me with you in the palace.”, she gently brushed the walls of the dome, made of her own hair, “All that I care about is my hair first and my kingdom second. But yes, I loved our little adventure, Trevor. You were really up to the task.”

You felt her purple hair cooling down, revealing the Queen’s state of conscience.

“I think…it’s time to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”, you said.

As you dove back in her now cold mane, you felt…used. Dirty. Unwanted. Tears started rolling down your face, being wiped by the mountain of hair that you were engulfed in. Even though it was silky and soft like the finest fur, you hated every piece of it. Kassandra was more than her hair, you knew it! And you had to show her. But not now. It was too late.

“Goodbye, Royal Barber. And thank you.”, she said, as her hair cooled down even further, resembling her indifference to Trevor, forming the walls of the dome once again, “I will always remember your deeds.”

***

One month later…

“Royal Barber!”, you heard Regina call you.

You got out of your room. You were still naked.

“Yes, Regina?” you asked.

“Alright, before I tell you something, you need to dress up. Right now!”, Regina ordered you, carefully covering her eyes with her blond strand.

“Err, OK.”, you replied, still feeling a bit dazed by the Queen’s cruelty to you, even though you were the one to take her virginity.

You quickly dressed up, thinking to yourself how cute that muscled blond Larion woman looked when she covered her eyes with her strand like it was a blindfold.

“So, are you done, Trevor?”, Regina said, calmly.

“Yes, I am!”, you replied.

You liked Regina, because, even though she was an elite warrior and a musclehead, it was nice to see a Larion woman caring about more things than their heads of hair. In fact, Regina was the leader of the Amazons not only for being the strongest but also because, on the day of her final proof of absolute loyalty to the Queen, she sliced her own strand with no hesitation. Not like the others, that took six hours of pleading and crying just to cut a single strand.

But not Regina, that cut it right away. No tears. No pleads of mercy. Just a single, clean cut. Her straightforwardness was something you admired on her.

“Regina, you still there?”, you asked.

“Yeah, I’m here.”, she replied.

“Good, let’s go!”, you said, bolting out the door, making Regina follow you. While you two were walking,

Regina’s blond lock was hitting her calves, sometimes almost making her trip on her feet.

“Stupid strand!”, Regina said, holding it on her hand, “It’s always making me trip!”

“Aren’t Amazons required by law to have their strand shorter than floor-length?”, you asked, curious, while raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah…I should have cut it some time ago.”, she answered, measuring the golden strand against her bulky arm, “But with all the work that I have, I simply didn’t find the time to get it cut.”

“Regina, I was just talking about your hair, not trying to get you in trouble.”, you said, “Although the strand is pretty long. It’s probably the most luxurious strand I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh?” Regina smirked, gently putting you against a wall.

Her lips were so close to yours, you could almost feel them against your own.

“Would you like to cut my strand?”, she asked in a flirty tone.

“Yes, but why?”, you asked, confused, “Aren’t Amazons required to cut their own strand?”

“Yeah, but I really don’t care about this strand.”, Regina said, looking in repulse at her blond strand, “In fact…”

She put you on her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Then, she walked around a bit until she found an empty room, used as storage. No one was going to appear there until the evening, so Regina had all the time in the world. For what? You didn’t know. But, for an odd reason, he was still trusting Regina.

“Alright!”, Regina said, happily, while holding her strand, “Let’s cut this shit!”

You were shocked. Regina had called her hair shit, which, if heard by the Larion women, would make them think that the blond Amazon was out of her mind. And they would be totally wrong since the glow in Regina’s eyes wasn’t of madness. It was sheer determination.

“What’s wrong, Trevor?”, she asked, impatient, “Are you gonna cut my strand or not?”

You gulped, took a deep breath, and then exhaled. Regina kept looking at you, while you sliced her strand. It took some tries, even with the sharpest scissors. But, when you finally cut it off, Regina couldn’t avoid a short moan, feeling excited when she touched the resulting cut: the strand now only reached her forehead. However, you looked with sadness to the beehive-like suppressor on top of Regina’s head, with her 12 kilometers of mane still intact.

“Do you enjoy cutting hair, Trevor?”, asked Regina to you.

“Honestly, yes.”, you admitted, nervous as hell, “And I enjoyed cutting your strand. But I always feel that that is never enough.”

Regina tilted her head to the side. You thought that Regina might try to harm you or run away from you after that declaration. But you didn’t even think about what she said next: “You know…I would let you shave my head.”

“Really?” You asked, pretty surprised that a girl like her wanted to give up her pride and mane, “Why?”

“Because I think having long hair is bullshit!”, Regina said, “I mean, during my training, I wasn’t allowed to use any suppressor. I hated it, and so did every other Amazon. Do you know that the suppressor brushes, untangle, and washes your hair for you? Can you imagine what is like to wash 12 kilometers of hair every day? And don’t get me started with brushing…”

“Must have been rough…”, you said, feeling compassion for the blond Amazon.

“It was…”, the muscled blond girl said, looking at you with lust in her heart. Then, an idea formed in Regina’s head. “Let me ask you something, Trevor: would you cut all my hair off?”

You went pale as a ghost, and your knees almost buckled.

“Are…are you sure?”

“I want you to be able to enjoy your work, so yes.”

You couldn’t believe it. Regina already had enough confidence for both of you.

“But…your position as leader of the Amazons…your pride…your social position in Larion society…”, you said, still trembling, divided by happiness and fear, when Regina caressed your face with her harsh hand.

“Not yet, Trevor.”, Regina said, “As much as I wish to shave my shitty hair, I can’t lose my position as the leader of the Amazons. But, when the day comes that the Queen gets shaved, I will be the first in your line for my new and fresh hairstyle!”

With that, you couldn’t stop yourself to lean in and kiss her. She kissed back, with her lips being much softer than you thought them to be. While you two were kissing each other passionately, Regina pressed a button on her suppressor, making it spill out her 12 kilometers of blond hair. Because you two were in a small storage room, her hair filled every inch of the room.

“Wow, you look stunning, Regina…”, you said, sitting on her lap, inside of the air cocoon occupied by you two.

“Do you like it?” She asked, smiling. You loved it. Regina had a rather bulky and muscular body. It wasn’t overly developed and instead was just in good shape. However, it was a little weird to see that, from the neck up, Regina looked exactly like a pure long-haired damsel, attached to a warrior’s body. It was a rare sight to see.

“You know… I may be tough… but I’m also a woman…”, Regina said, before kissing you in the lips.

“I know…”, you said, pulling out your dick.

“By the Amazons…”, she said, looking surprised at your cock, “Now I get it why the Queen liked you, Trevor.”

Regina became flustered, not really knowing what to do. Her blond hair was becoming warmer and warmer. Did she also love you, or just want a child, just like the Queen? Well, you couldn’t really refuse. Though, if she really loved you, she would become your greatest ally in overthrowing the Queen.

“Wait!”, you said, suddenly remembering something, “Aren’t Amazons forbidden from having sex?”

“Yeah, we are.”, admitted Regina, smiling, “And the punishment is a headshave. Honestly, if they ever find out, I want you to shave me, handsome!”

“OK…”, you said, penetrating Regina’s pussy. You started to thrust, and she increased the pace, riding your cock.

“Yes, yes, give me your strength!”, she said.

You two were going back and forth, wildly. Regina moaned even more, as your shoulders, head, and back were covered in her enormous mane. You were thrusting your hips rapidly, trying to hit the glans every time it entered her, which was very easy to do. You had several favorite spots on her.

“Yes! Yes! YES!”, screamed Regina, as you humped her from the back, while she was on all fours, enjoying being passive.

After all, a change of roles once in a time didn’t hurt. And you were enjoying dominating that muscled woman. It was a surprise to find out that Regina could be feminine when the situation required it. She didn’t even yell when you yanked some of her locks.

“Oh, yes, Trevor!”, yelled Regina, ecstatic, “Pull my dirty hair! I’m a dirty bitch and my dirty locks are gonna be shaved by you, baby! I grew my hair out just to be fleeced by you like a well-behaved sheep!”

Regina’s hair wasn’t really as soft as the Queen’s purple mane. Nor as long or well-kept. But it was way warmer. It was so blazing hot inside that blond cocoon of Regina’s mane that you finally knew that she really loved you.

“I WANT TO HAVE YOUR CHILD, TREVOR!”, she yelled, “Grab me by the horns!”

And so, after yanking her golden locks one more time, you dug through her roots, holding to her horns. And then, you pushed.

“AHAHAHA!” , she yelled, as her horns were being used as handles for your stability, “Your kid is gonna be pure, Trevor!”

“No, Regina!”, you said, feeling your sperm filling her, “You are the pure one. And I love you for that!”

You two fell into each other’s arms, breathing heavily.

“Wow…”, said Regina, smiling after seeing her legs, wet by your semen, “I’m no longer a virgin…”

“Let’s hope Larion never finds out…”, you said, worried about Regina.

“You can trust me,” said Regina, sensing your worry.

“You sure?”

Regina grabbed clumps of her blond mane, pulling them enough to hurt.

“All I want is for you, Trevor, to free me from these suffocating locks…”, Regina said, kissing you, “And I’ll be your bald woman.”

“Well, but first, we need to make so that most, if not ALL the Larion women shave their heads.”, you said, “So that we can live happily, us two…rubbing each other’s bald heads…”

Regina shook her head, disappointed.

“Why do you want to force them to shave their heads? They look so pretty…”

“Because for things to change, most of them must understand how bad is to be bald.”, you explained, “So that, when I shave you, you don’t become a renegade.”

“Fine, do you have a plan?”, Regina asked, combing her pesky hair to the side.

“I do.”, you said, confident, “On the next arena punishment, when you and Amazons are watching the stairs to the pillar, I want you to break the mechanism, isolating me with the Queen. Then, I’ll do the rest.”

“I don’t like this plan. It’s too risky.”, said Regina.

“If I fail, the rebellion will still happen. If I succeed, then I can get rid of the stupid rule without any more sacrifices than the Queen.”, you explained, combing her roots, petting her hidden horns, “Then, when the Queen gets bald, I’ll force her to make me her King, so then I can ban that stupid rule!”

“So, how will you make the Queen go down to the top of the pillar?”, Regina asked, “If she…”

“I need a ruse, Regina!”, you said, caressing her face, “And you are the one that can help me. So tell me: who is the most gullible foreign prisoner that we captured today?”

“That would be Natasha.”, Regina said, after thinking for some moments, “A black girl with small, abundant dark curls, that shine like pearls. Honestly, although she has short floor-length hair, her hair is still pretty, even by our standards!”

Regina clicked on a button of her suppressor, making it suck her hair, returning it all to that metallic beehive. You kissed that muscled woman on the lips.

“Soon, Regina, you’ll have the smooth head that you desire.”, you teased, holding her cropped strand, “Snip, snip, snip.”

“Don’t tease me, Trevor, I could always…gift you with a few extra inches of hair.”

You smiled, caressing her red face. “I promise you, Regina, that when I become King, I will keep you and the Queen as my wives!”, you promised, smiling, “BALD wives!”

***

“So, what do you want me to do?”, asked Natasha, the black young girl, to you, “From what I’ve heard about Larion, you guys love to shave women on the Arena, before you kill them, right?”

You smiled. Inside the cell, you were talking to Natasha, with your dear Regina blocking the door. Natasha didn’t know that Larion doesn’t have laws allowing the execution of women. Only men.

But, if Natasha thought that her life was on the line, maybe she would be more willing to sacrifice her mane.

“Right.”, you answered calmly, “After all those curls you got have been fleeced, you’ll be executed. So, if you want to live, you must hear my proposal.”

“What is it?”, Natasha asked, stretching one of her curls, making it bounce to its original form when released, “You can get me out of here, right?”

“I don’t know. Will you help me?”, you asked her, hoping that she’d say yes.

“Why would I help you?”, Natasha asked, making her tone one of skepticism.

“Should I remember you that your execution is postponed to today, at the end of this afternoon?”, you said, walking to the chair that Natasha sat in, “But, before, you’ll be…humiliated…fleeced like a sheep with overgrown wool!”

A smile formed on Natasha’s face, as a mixture of fear and anticipation.

“Alright, fine. I’ll do it.”

“Good.”, you said, yanking the bulk of her curls, “Your hair rivals in quality to the Larion women’s manes, Natasha.”

“Hey, what do I look like, some sort of pampered aristocrat?”, asked Natasha, as you released some of her hair.

“No, but it will be the perfect hair to shave.”, you commented, looking at the adorable white bow on top of her head, “And, if you wish to be able to regrow it, you’ll do as I say. Understand?”

“Got it.”, said Natasha, not wishing to get a bad deal.

***

The crowd was roaring in the arena stands. On top of the pillar, you were behind Natasha, that was bound to her chair, her eyes frenetic. Natasha was biting her lip, trying to make it stop from trembling. Everyone was going to see her shave. But, before you started, you whispered to the black girl: “Are you ready?”

“Yeah!”, she shouted, her voice shaking.

“I don’t want to hear you scream.”

You grabbed one of Natasha’s curls between your fingers, rubbing it. Then, you yanked her white bow from her head. Sniffing it, your nostrils were embezzled by the scent of strawberries.

You felt pity for that terrified black girl, since she washed, combed, and treated her own hair, spending hours per day to make it as gorgeous as it was. Not like Larion women, who depended on their suppressors to do that for them. You threw Natasha’s white bow to her lap, like the wings of a butterfly. She would no longer need it. You raised the scissors, snapping them in the air.

You were moving as slow as possible, because a Larion headshave takes a long time, just to drag on the misery of the women being shorn. And it wouldn’t be different with Natasha. With your other hand, you slowly separated a curl from the rest of her mane and positioned the sharp scissors close to her scalp. The screams of the crowd were drowned out by the howls of the wind.

Before you cut Natasha’s first curl, she whispered, weeping: “Please, don’t! It took my entire life to grow my hair like this…”

You ignored her pleas and started cutting. You were surprised that it just took one snap of your scissors to cut off Natasha’s curl. Usually, a strand of Larion women was so thick that you took minutes to chop it with those same scissors. The crowd was in awe of your swiftness and started roaring. Slow and steady, you sliced curl after curl of Natasha’s mane, pilling it on the floor of the top of the pillar.

The curls that covered the chair became fewer and fewer, while the crowd roared more and more. You took fifteen minutes to make the right side of her mane a cropped boy cut, while the left was still untouched. The crowd was in pleasure madness when Natasha finally broke down in tears, as half her hair was now cropped. You yanked the left side of her untouched mane, making her scream.

The crowd loved the screams.

“Please, Trevor…No more…”, whispered Natasha, seeing that you started cutting the left side of her curly hair. But you didn’t listen. Twenty minutes later, everything was over. You untied her hands, letting her feel the cropped mess that had become her once lustrious floor-length curls. Large tears filled her black face, mourning the loss of her mane. Natasha was still crying when you turned on the clippers. Because those were the most powerful clippers you had, they were more than a match to the remains of Natasha’s once glorious curls, reducing the cropped mess into stubble.

The crowd loved it, roaring as they’ve never done before. This would be an instant success. They even started to chant, taunting the poor, bald Natasha: “CUEBALL! CUEBALL! CUEBALL!”

Natasha was now wailing, pained by the humiliation and devastating loss of her precious mane of curls.

“My hair…my precious curls…”, wept Natasha.

“Keep focused, Natasha!”, you whispered to her ear, “The Queen is now coming here. Remember your part of the deal!”

The Queen started walking down the retractable stairs, on all her pride and arrogance. In her hand, she brought the purple mud, a permanent balding for any scalp rubbed by it. Each of her movements was coldly gracious, like a swan. When she set foot on top of the pillar, the stairs were retracted, leaving the Queen alone with you and Natasha.

Natasha had a pure hatred towards the Queen, facing her smug look.

“I trust you have learned your lesson, mercenary?”, asked the Queen.

“Yes, I learned that you will pay for my pain!”, shrieked Natasha.

The Queen laughed. That answer could have been insulting to most, but the Queen was too sure of her own power to even listen to such empty threats. Instead, her hands picked up Natasha’s white bow.

“Now this is a hair ornament that I appreciate a lot! To think that it was with someone like you…well, you won’t need it anymore, are you?”, the Queen laughed, looking at Natasha as if she was covered in dirt, “Well, this bow will go to my collection of hair ornaments. They are so many that you can’t really pick a favourite…”

“I hope you go bald, you bitch!”, spat Natasha.

Any other women of Larion would be insulted by such low insult, but the Queen only laughed.

“Sweety, why would I care about the words of a bald girl like you?”, the Queen said, condescending, “But my hair…my purple mane…is perfect!”

The Queen slowly moved her hands towards the large suppressors on her head. Clicking some noisy buttons, the suppressors made a vacuum sound, releasing a huge cloud of steam, created by the sudden release of the heat formed by the Queen’s purple mane. After waiting a few seconds, where the steam completely engulfed the arena, the crowd started cringing, covering their eyes.

As the metallic suppressors made a huge bang when they fell to the floor, your heart almost stopped in awe when you saw the Queen’s luxurious purple mane falling down the pillar, like a waterfall, pouring on the arena, reaching the lower countertops, fifty meters above the sand. The arena became full of wavy, purple hair, resembling a pond full of turbulent water.

“Now, for your punishment…”, the Queen said, approaching her hand with the purple mud closer and closer Natasha’s dark stubble.

But, before the Queen could rub Natasha’s scalp, you freed her. Natasha, with a swift move, proceeded to grab the Queen and lock her in the chair. The Queen tried to resist, but it was useless: Natasha was way stronger.

With a smug face, Natasha saw the Queen trying to free herself from the chair’s restraints.

Pissed off, the Queen yells at you: “Barber, release me right now!”

Natasha grinned, in a resemblance of the Queen’s smile of mockery. The Queen, still trying to pull her restraints, shook her head, making some of her purple strands fall to her face, covering it.

“ARE YOU DEAF, BARBER?”, the Queen yells, in all of her authority and arrogance, “RELEASE ME RIGHT THIS INSTANT! AMAZONS!”

The Queen kept calling the Amazons, but they weren’t coming. You smiled. Regina had made her part of the deal, breaking the retractable stairs, the only way to reach the top of the pillar. Now, you were isolated with the Queen by a sea of her own hair.

“I don’t think so, Your Majesty”, you said, grinning, as the crowd became silent by the recent surprise, “Not today.”

“Trevor, release me!”, ordered the Queen again, blinded by her own mane.

“But, my Queen, the show isn’t still over…”, you said, as you turned on the clippers.

As the clippers hummed through the air, the Queen’s arrogance was slowly replaced by primal fear. Queen Kassandra knew that you weren’t kidding.

“Please, Trevor, I’m begging you! Release me, or I swear to all gods that I’ll…”

“That you’ll what, Kassandra?” Natasha, still grinning, yanked the locks in front of the Queen’s face backwards, making her yelp in pain, but also allowing her to see. To see the arena and all her subjects, that were silently watching her, not knowing what to do.

“You’ll do nothing, you bitch!”, Natasha slapped the Queen, making her weep, “You’ll stay sit in here, while your dear barber fleeces your mane, like a well-behaved sheep.”, Natasha held a thick purple lock, yanking it harder and harder, causing pain and humiliation to the Queen, “So soft… so pure… so long… it’s sad that all this amazing hair is attached to such a whiny, spoiled woman.”

By now, the whole arena was silent except for the loud sound of the Queen’s crying and pulling of hair.

“Do you know what we do in my land to whiny, spoiled girls?”, Natasha continued, smirking at the fear in the Queen’s eyes, “They aren’t allowed long hair. Bad girls only have short hair. But you, Queen? You are bad to the roots, so a headshave is only appropriate for you, don’t you think?”

After Natasha said that, you placed the vibrant clippers close to the Queen’s hairline, allowing her to appreciate her gorgeous colossal mane one last time.

“Okay, here we go. One… “, you started counting, holding the famished clippers leashed in your steady, merciless hand, waiting to ravage the Queen’s mane.

“Please, Trevor. Don’t!”, begged the Queen, tears rolling her face, “My hair…I’m nothing without my hair! So, please, don’t shave me!”

“Two.”

“P-p-please…”, the Queen started to cry, looking up to the clippers like a terrified puppy.

“Enjoy looking like a cueball, you long-haired bitch!”, laughed Natasha, at the costs of the Queen’s terror.

“Three.”

You violently jammed the famished clippers into the Queen’s scalp. The clippers started to make loud noises, chewing up the queen’s hair with immense pleasure.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!”, shrieked the Queen, trying to free herself, more determined than ever to save her mane. But it was futile: the chair restraints were conceived especially to stop Larion women to run away. You were impressed at how thick Queen Kassandra’s purple mane really was: in fifty seconds, the clippers barely moved five centimeters, struggling to shave those tough roots.

But, although the clippers were chewing slowly the Queen’s purple hair, they were still moving, bit by bit. The Queen squirms scream and pleads, but no one in the arena knows what to do. Their Queen, the most beautiful female of the kingdom of Larion, a perceived goddess of hair, was being fleeced like a sheep.

As the fifty seconds elapsed, the room was filled with a painful silence as the clippers chewed up the first pass of the Queen’s hair to her nape. In the middle of her head, the clippers had munched down a passing of purple stubble, separating her sea of purple mane in two by the roots. On the other hand, her eye contact with everyone in the room had become more and more desperate and pathetic.

“PLEASE, ANYONE!”, the Queen pleaded, her red face rimmed in tears, “I DON’T WANT TO LOSE MY HAIR!”

But the clippers kept shaving each one of her thick locks diligently. The women on the lower countertops of the arena, those that always brushed the Queen’s locks as a sign of subservience, were now holding bits of that sea of hair, mourning the Queen’s imminent loss of the longest, most magnificent mane in all of Larion.

Queen Kassandra turned away her eyes from the bits of purple hair that you threw to her lap. Her purple mane. Your heart was pumping fast, as your hands diligently work now behind her back, shaving now the bulk of that thick purple mane. Between the crying, sobbing, and pleading of an entire nation of Larion women to spare the Queen’s mane, you finally cut the bulk, leaving the Queen with a bob cut, while the rest of her mane fell lifeless to the sea of purple in the arena. The Queen smirked in pain, feeling that the weight on her neck caused by her massive mane was now lighted.

She felt as she was falling from a high place. Her pride, her authority as Queen…

Kassandra felt all that being taken from her as you kept shaving her head. All that power was replaced by a bald head. The Queen bit her lip, as her face became red from shame and moistened by the tears rolling from her bloated, tearful eyes. Her people always loved her long, luxurious hair. Now, the people of the nation could not believe their eyes as the hair kept on falling to the arena and being chewed by the clippers.

Then, a man’s voice was heard on the arena: “Revolution!”

The man’s voice had all the salubrity of a cow, but when he repeated his command, everyone in the arena turned their attention to him. The women, crying for the horrible fate of their Queen’s purple hair, were distracted when the men, united, overpowered them, handcuffing every single one of them. Even the Amazons were taken by surprise but, even though they were strong, they were still no match to hundreds of men.

“Please! Hold on to your hair, ladies!”, the man in charge of the revolutionaries’ army ordered, “After the Queen, you all are next!”

After that man said that, the whole arena became silent, as you now started to, finally, shave the Queen’s hair that covered the horns. As the clippers munched, Kassandra’s white horns started popping out, after being hidden by that thick purple mane for a lifetime. Everyone in the arena gasped. The horns of the Queen were now visible, as the strands of her cropped mane kept falling to the floor, the best hair in Larion discarded like garbage.

Those shameful horns caused a massive commotion in the crowd, as many Larion women were holding their heads of hair, terrified by the prospect of being next. And like that they stayed, until you yanked the Queen’s last lock, making her scream as you passed the clippers through it, buzzing it from her scalp. Now, the Queen’s sea of mane, her pride, and joy that many Larion women would kill to have, was now reduced to a pathetic buzzcut. The whistles and cheers of the men in the crowd made you nauseous, as they relentlessly mocked the fallen Queen, that now that you freed her from the chair, curled on the floor, weeping at the loss of her mane.

Her pride, her beauty, her authority…You had shaved all that from her roots. Kassandra was no longer a Queen, now that she had a buzzcut.

However, to your surprise, the men in the crowd yelled: “PURPLE MUD! PURPLE MUD! PURPLE MUD!”

As Kassandra heard the cruel chantings, she looked to you with her eyes embedded in fear. She covered her shameful buzzcut with both hands, making sure to cover her horns.

“NO! PLEASE! HAVE MERCY, TREVOR!”, Kassandra pleaded, on her knees. Indeed, she was a prisoner now. She had no place to run. The men of the crowd had her surrounded, and they would make this moment last as much as possible. As a matter of fact, this was never in your original plan. Your original plan was just to give a buzzcut to that proud, whiny, manipulative Queen. You preferred her to grow her hair so that she could be your only long-haired concubine after a year. But now, as you looked at the men in the arena, you knew that Kassandra wouldn’t leave without losing her hair permanently.

And so, nodding at Natasha, you put a handful of purple mud on your hand. The Queen, with her eyes, widened by looking at the purple mud in your hand, tried to jump to the floor below, covered by the lifeless sea of purple hair that was once hers. Death was preferable for Kassandra than permanent baldness. However, before she could jump, Kassandra was thrown to the floor by Natasha. The men around the arena, already cheering you on, started to throw nuts and fruits at the fallen Queen. She used her hands to protect her head.

“Wow, the former Larion Queen is so brave…”, mocked Natasha, rubbing her abrasive scalp, “You must be feeling fresh, aren’t you?”

“My hair…I took my entire life growing it…”, Kassandra wept, “Please, Trevor…Let me keep my roots…I know you love my hair… Everyone loved my hair… Let me grow it again…please…”

She was speaking the truth: you enjoyed her purple hair, even if you prefer Kassandra’s small boobs, small ass and plain face over her mane. Kassandra’s hair was always her best feature. One that she would now lose. You lifted your hand, ready to take away Kassandra’s mane for good. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”, yelled the Queen, as you rubbed a generous amount of purple mud on her scalp, burning her roots permanently.

Kassandra, now bald forever, dropped to the floor, rubbing her head, which now was as smooth as glass. Natasha grinned, rubbing her own stubble. The men of the crowd cheered, throwing more fruits and nuts at the groveling Queen.

“So, how does it feel to fall so low, Queen?”, mocked Natasha, dodging from the fruits thrown at the bald Queen, “At least, I’ll be able to grow hair again! Damn, you really look ugly without your hair. You have an egg head!”

The men in the crowd laughed at the bald, crying woman, who used to be their cruel, arrogant Queen. You knew that the men and women of Larion had no way to remove the purple mud that was smeared on her hair or on her scalp, so she’d be stuck like this forever.

Kassandra was now a pathetic, bald woman, curled on the floor, whispering non-stop: “I’m hideous, I’m hideous, I’m hideous…”

Now that Kassandra was unrooted of her gorgeous purple mane, you couldn’t avoid thinking of her as hideous. Sure, you loved Kassandra’s body, but you wanted her to grow her hair. Now, that was no longer possible. However, as the men in the crowd shouted their allegiance to you, you couldn’t avoid thinking what to do about the former bald Queen.

But you had an idea…

You could kill her, of course. You were probably stronger than her anyway, and you had no intention of keeping her around for a potential slave rebellion. Or, you could keep her around. After all, she was the mother of your unborn child. You would keep her as your Queen. For now. But, when the baby gets birthed, you would exile her far, by selling Kassandra as a slave to Natasha, for free.

You would also tell everyone that Kassandra died while she was giving birth. This way, you didn’t have to kill her, and you’d get to keep the baby.

***

“OK, Amazons, swear allegiance to me on top of this cliff!”, you ordered, rubbing the huge, stuffed barber chair that the muscled girls look at in fear, “So, who is the first?”

The Amazons flinched. Even though they were elite warriors, they were still Larion women. Terrified of losing their precious locks. All, except one.

“I am, my king!”

Regina shouts, stepping up.

“Really? Oh, wow! Beautiful!”, you said, smiling, “And how much hair do you wish to lose, brave one?”

“All of it.”, Regina said, in disgust, “I’m tired of walking around with these long, suffocating blond hair!”

You nod. Then, you press the button on her suppressor, freeing her 12-kilometer blond mane one last time. Her blond hair cascaded down the cliff, touching its bottom. Then, as you turned the clippers on, Regina yelped you to stop.

“No, my King! Please, don’t use the clippers!”

“Why? After all that talk about wanting to shave your hair, you are finally backing down?”, you grinned, amused.

“No.”, she answered, flustered, “My hair is all yours, my King. It’s just…can’t you start by using scissors? I mean, I only wish for you to have the best experience ever with my shitty hair.”

You grab the pair of sharp scissors.

“I’ll make this quick.”, you say, snipping through her hair. Regina bites her lip.

“Do your worst, my King.”, she said, as she heard the terrified gasps of the Amazons when you cut one of her locks so close to her scalp.

Her hair was really thick, and it covered the entire chair. You grinned, as you turned the chair to the other Amazons, allowing them to see the full haircut you were giving their captain. Some even cried loudly, as their gorgeous captain was smiling, hearing carefully the sound of the scissors munching on her blond mane.

After some time fighting with the thickness of Regina’s mane, you snip why her hair to a shoulder-length length. Not short enough to be annoying, but just long enough to tickle her scalp when it runs against it. It still gave her incredible freedom of movement for a suppressor, but now she could run, or even fight, without the hair getting in the way. However, you weren’t still done. The Amazons gasped in horror when they saw you holding the purple mud, the feared substance that could turn any woman permanently bald.

“Regina.”, you say with a grin, “I have something to propose to you.” Regina, who was still focusing on the scissors in your hands, turned to look at you with worry.

“Do you want me to…”, she begins to ask nervously, but you interrupt her.

“Yes.”, you answered.

Biting her lips, Regina nodded.

“Well, go on…”

You took the bottom of her hair, and slowly poured some of the purple mud in your hand on her hair. She winced as a glob splattered onto her scalp. As Regina bravely took the pain of the burning of her roots, the other Amazons stepped back, terrified by the new, bald, muscled woman that got out of the chair, happily rubbing her smooth head.

“Regina has been permanently shaven!”, you announce proudly, to the delicious terror of the remaining long-haired Amazons.

And, so, one by one, the Amazons were dragged to the chair by Regina, fleeced by their roots, and shorn bald. If it was forced or complied, it didn’t matter.

The only thing you could hear was the procession of crying women, that were forced to stay in line, as you shaved them, one by one. The line of barber chairs that were close to the edge of the cliff was turned to the lines of terrified Larion women, that watched with impotence the fleecing of their mothers, sisters, and daughters.

From the oldest grandma to the youngest girl, no one was spared of the headshave. Some took it bravely, shouting curses and obscenities at you while you shaved them. Others were broken into tears immediately. But all of them got out of the chairs rubbing their heads, weeping, while rubbing their smooth heads, permanently bald. And so, after that day, the cliff became full with the manes of all Larion women.

However, instead of hate or resentment, the Larion women looked in awe at the cliff, filled with all their manes. It was weird to know that all that hair was once in their heads. And, for the first time ever, they felt fresh, not needing a heavy suppressor to carry around their long, suffocating manes.

They felt free.

Knowing that their hair was the bane of their oppressors, it caused them to laugh for the first time in centuries, to smile for the first time in millennia. Their oppressors were themselves. And their man, their liberators.