Her Darkest Fantasy Comes True

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Vanessa found herself lying on her bed, masturbating to her typical fantasy once again. She imagined herself in a dark room, on her knees, helplessly tied up while a powerful man had complete control over her. She pushed the vibrator harder against her clit as she imagined this. In her fantasy, the man was shaving off her hair. She wanted to scream for him to stop, but she was gagged. All she could do was struggle in futility as he took her hair, lashing her with a whip every time she dared struggle. She pushed the vibrator harder as, back in reality, she climaxed. When Vanessa opened her eyes, experienced post-orgasm clarity, and looked at the mess between her legs, she realized she would have to change the sheets.

Vanessa had experienced this fantasy for as long as she could remember. For years, she had been too embarrassed to tell it to any of her partners. Besides, she seemed to attract men who were far too timid in the bedroom to ever participate in anything like that. Now, at 28 years old, she was finally taking steps to make it happen outside her imagination.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t been successful so far. Her last boyfriend balked at the idea. Probably for the better, since he was cheating anyway. She had been posting about her fantasy on a fetish forum and had arranged a couple meet-ups with potential suitors, but none of them went well. The first guy wanted her to fly all the way to Seattle and wouldn’t come to her. The second one gave her the creeps. The third one didn’t even show up. There were fetish sites that would pay her to shave her head, but she didn’t want video of herself all over the internet, and the pay was less than a week of her salary anyway. She’d already spent more than that on the wig she planned to wear afterwards.

Months had gone by, and Vanessa had all but given up hope, when she received a message from someone named JohnDoe512.

It read: “A member of our community has directed me to your previous posts. It appears that not only do our interests have significant overlap, but we are located in the same city. Would you be interested in meeting in person to arrange the details?”

Vanessa decided to give it one more shot, and responded to him. They exchanged a couple messages back and forth and agreed on a time and place to meet in person. While her previous suitors had wanted to meet at parks or coffee shops, John arranged to meet in the bar of the Four Seasons hotel downtown, on a Friday night.

Vanessa arrived in a little black dress and heels. Her golden-brown hair cascaded in waves down her back. As she scanned the room, she felt as if the whole bar was looking at her. Near the back, she spotted a man in a suit and tie who seemed to be paying extra attention to her. He had a glass of red wine in front of him, and another in front of the empty seat across the table. Vanessa approached.

“John?” She inquired. He had a momentary look of surprise on his face, indicating that John wasn’t his real name, then instructed her to have a seat.

John, or whatever his name was, was a spectacularly well-put-together man. Vanessa estimated that his tailored grey suit must have cost more then her car. His tie was perfectly fastened. His sculpted beard accentuated his chiseled jawline, and his lightly-gelled, wavy dark hair conveyed that he was a man of wealth and taste.

Vanessa took a sip of the win to calm her nerves. It was an excellent cabernet sauvignon. Then they began discussing the details. Vanessa described her ideal experience. John didn’t even flinch at the idea of shaving her head while she was tied up. Neither did Vanessa when John told her that she would have to endure a great deal of pain first. In fact, she smiled with anticipation. John asked if tomorrow night would fit into Vanessa’s schedule. She couldn’t say yes fast enough.

She arrived at John’s house the following night. It was a large, modern house in a trendy neighborhood off of South Congress Avenue. Even a modest house in this neighborhood would have cost north of a million dollars, and this was no modest house. As instructed, she pulled into the driveway. The garage door opened for her and she parked in the empty spot next to a black Tesla, and went inside.

The interior of the house was very minimalist and clean, and the consistency of the design language indicated that this was the work of a professional. This was clearly the abode of a wealthy bachelor. John stood waiting for her at the minibar. He poured two glasses from a bottle of 18-year-old scotch as Vanessa approached, and handed her one. He told her to follow him.

Sipping on his scotch, John led Vanessa up the stairs to the third floor of the house as he explained the rules. She would have to endure a round of painful punishment, and each time she did so, he would remove more of her hair. During the punishments, she could say the safe word- potato- but if she did, she would leave the house with however much hair remained on her head. During the hair cutting, though, he would tape her mouth shut, and he would not stop under any circumstances. Vanessa had been very insistent on this at their previous meeting. She was already wet enough that she would have ruined her panties if she had been wearing any.

John led her through a door, into a large, windowless room with padded, soundproofed walls. A drum set and a collection of guitars and amps were pushed into one corner. In the center of the room, there was a pair of shackles attached to the floor and another hanging from the ceiling. There was a large standing mirror and a series of boxes against the wall.

“Welcome to my studio!” He exclaimed. “Now first things first, you will need to strip out of your clothes.”

That didn’t take Vanessa long. She finished her scotch, slipped out of her heels, then unzipped the back of her dress and let it fall to the floor. She had nothing on underneath.

John led her to the shackles and fastened them with padlocks. Vanessa stood with her arms and legs spread wide, her body making a giant “X”. The mirror was positioned so that she could see her naked body.

John carried one of the boxes over. He pulled out a rope and a hook with a large ball at the end. He first tied the rope around her waist, then ran it through her crotch and pulled it tightly up the back. Her clit and labia were squeezed between the two lengths of rope. Tightening the rope as much as he could, he pulled her hair and carefully intertwined it with the rope. Next, he applied lubricant the the hook and pushed the rope aside to forcefully shove the ball end up Vanessa’s asshole. Finally, he tied the rope to the hook and tightened it. Vanessa’s head was pulled back by her hair. If she tried to lean forward, it would pull on the crotch rope and the anal hook.

“For your first trial” John commanded “You will endure 10 lashes of the whip to your beautiful breasts. I hold in my hand a knife. If you say the safe word, I will use the knife to cut the rope and send you home. If you take all 10 lashes, I will use the knife to sever your hair and we will move on to the next stage. Am I clear?”

“Yes!” she cried out. “Please whip my tits!”

Vanessa couldn’t see the mirror with her head tilted back, but she felt the sting of the whip.

“Count the lashes!” John demanded.




The third stroke made a direct hit on her nipple. The pain caused her to recoil and briefly tilt her head forward. The tension of the rope squeezed her cunt and pulled her hair so hard she felt it might be ripped out.

“Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight!”

The ninth stroke directly impacted her other nipple. She reflexively leaned her head forward again, feeling the instant regret. She paused, and John wondered if she might opt out, but through the pain she screamed “Nine!”

One more lash and she screamed “Ten!”. The first stage was complete.

John placed a strip of duct tape over her mouth. He positioned the knife at the back of her ponytail, a few inches from the scalp, and slowly begin cutting. As he severed more and more strands, the tension on the remaining hair grew. Finally he finished slicing through, causing the rope to fall to the floor, taking a foot of Vanessa’s hair with it. She could tilt her head forward and see herself in the mirror now. Welts from the whip made stripes across her chest.

John untied the rope and removed the anal hook. He carefully unraveled the knot around the long hair, and set it aside to keep as a trophy.

Vanessa’s hair was now a short, shaggy cut, hanging about halfway down her face.

John opened up the second box and pulled out a set of electric clippers. “This will be your next prize.”

He continued to empty the box, pulling out a large quantity of plastic clothes pins attached to each other with string. Without speaking, he began clamping the clothespins onto Vanessa’s body. He squeezed her bruised right nipple hard before biting down on it with the teeth of the clamp. John applied them in a line down the side of her body, making sure to apply them exactly where the whip had left a mark. The line ended with three clothespins clamped to her outer labia. Then he repeated on the other side of her body. The final line of clothespins traversed her inner thighs, with the middle line applied in an upside-down V shape, clamped tightly to her clitoris and inner labia at the vertex.

John explained the rules as he gave the clamps time to squeeze into Vanessa’s flesh. Each line of clamps corresponded to roughly one third of Vanessa’s hair: left, middle and right. He flicked the clamps on her nipples and clit as he explained that. Before pulling the clamps, he would could down from five to zero. If she hadn’t said the safe word by the time he said zero, he would rip off the entire string in one pull, then run the clippers through the corresponding section of her hair. He taunted Vanessa with the clippers, turning them on and vibrating them against her clamped clit. He knew that the longer the clamps stayed on, the more painful they would be to pull off.

“Lets flip a coin for what side to do first.” John proposed, stalling further. “Heads the right side, tails the left side.”

He pulled a silver dollar out of his pants pocket and flipped it in the air with his thumb. “Tails.”

John took the pin clamped to Vanessa’s left nipple in his hand and began to count down. “Five. Four.” He could tell by the look on Vanessa’s face that she had no intention of uttering the safe word. “Three… Two… One… Zero”

He grabbed the clothespin attached to Vanessa’s right nipple with his left hand and yanked the whole line off in one forceful pull.

“Aaaiiiieeeeeaaaahhh” she screamed, her breath racing from the pain she had been unable to brace for, as she expected him to pull the other side.

“Oh, I meant my left, by the way. Sorry if there was any confusion” John chuckled.

John began running the clippers over the right side of Vanessa’s head- her right side. He started around the ear and worked his way up towards the center. The clippers left no more than an inch of hair in their wake. Vanessa shouted “Yes!” as he worked the clippers across her head. The scraps of hair fell to the floor, some sticking to Vanessa’s naked body. When a third of Vanessa’s hair had been shorn, he turned the clippers off and set them aside.

He played with the clamp on Vanessa’s left nipple again. “The longer these stay on… ” He reminded her “The more they hurt to pull off.”

John readied himself to pull the next string. “Five… four… three… two… one… zero” he counted down. She looked him square in the eye the whole time and didn’t even think about making a sound. He yanked the string and Vanessa screamed in pain again, but when she was done, her scream turned to a smile.

“Yes, yes, fucking cut my hair off!” she cried out, before he covered her mouth with duct tape again.

As John clipped the hair on the other side of her head, she was leaning her hair into the clippers, lest she delay her shearing by even a fraction of a second. When he was finished, he used her sweat to style her hair into a wide mohawk, with short fuzzy hair on either side and roughly cut hair a few inches long in the middle.

“Ready for the last one?” He asked, ripping off the tape.

John knew the countdown was merely a symbolic gesture at this point. She squirmed in anticipation as he counted down. He held the bottom clothes pins on each inner thigh in his hands, then simultaneously yanked on both. This time was definitely the most painful, with the final clothespin being torn off the most sensitive part of Vanessa’s body. She screamed, as she had before, and looked as if she were trying to reach down to touch her painfully swollen clit, but the shackles on her wrists forced her to endure it without relief.

“Do it, do it, do it, Shave me! SHRRRRV MRRRRR!” She pleaded as he applied a fresh piece of duct tape to her mouth. Preventing her from stopping him while he shaved off her hair was also a purely symbolic gesture.

He ran the clippers straight down the middle this time, splitting her faux-hawk in half. John couldn’t help but notice the trail of viscous liquid running down Vanessa’s legs as he mowed down the last of her hair slowly. After a few more passes, the dirty blonde tresses that had hung past her shoulders were now nothing but short brown fuzz.

For the next stage, John dragged a long, slanted, leather-topped bench out of the closet. He slid the bench between Vanessa’s legs and unlocked the shackles around Vanessa’s wrists. He allowed her a drink of water before proceeding, and locked her wrists to the same hooks on the floor that secured her ankles. She was now restrained in a bent-over position, with her head pointed down and her butt sticking up.

John placed another set of electric clippers on the floor beneath Vanessa’s face. These were similar to the last ones, except that they had no guard, just bare metal. “Your next prize.”

“It’s awful dark in here, how about a bit of mood lighting?” he quipped.

John took two candles out of the next box, one red and one blue, and lit them. As he held them over Vanessa, drops of hot wax began to fall on her back. She recoiled in pain each time but remained resolute. He moved the candles around, causing the scalding droplets to fall all over the backside of her body. One landed on her shoulder, then more on her butt, then the small of her back. He held the flame of one candle near her dripping wet pussy, moving it closer and closer until she flinched. After five minutes, Vanessa could see in the mirror that the candles were about a third of the way burned down. A layer of red and blue covered most of her butt as John dropped wax on the parts of her flesh that were left unprotected.

The hot wax caused searing pain as it touched her skin, but Vanessa kept looking down at the clippers and crying out for more. Sweat dripped up her spine, drenching what little hair she had left. Finally, the candles burned out and a thick shell of wax encased her backside.

Staying true to his word, John taped her mouth shut and flicked on the clippers. This time, he pressed the bare metal right on the center of her head and mowed a line from forehead to nape. Vanessa let our muffled groans of pleasure as she watched her short hair fall to the floor. John moved from the middle out, alternating from left to right, and in less than a minute, he finished removing all but the faintest stumps of hair from her head.

Vanessa wanted badly to feel her hairless head, but the restraints around her wrists prevented her. Almost as if he could read her mind, John reached down and stroked her rough scalp as he gently removed the tape from her mouth. Feeling hands rub skin that had never been exposed was a pleasure unlike any Vanessa had ever experienced.

Now it was time for the fourth box. First, John showed Vanessa her prize. A can of shaving cream, a straight razor and a bottle of aftershave lotion. Then he began to undress. He slid his pants down to reveal an impressively-sized member, fully erect. He unwrapped a magnum condom and slid it on.

As John moved behind her, Vanessa felt two fingers enter her moist pussy. “Oh yeah!” She screamed.

John withdrew his fingers and slowly slid his cock inside.

“Yeah! Fuck yeah! Fuck my pussy!” she cried out.

“Oh that’s not what’s happening next” John laughed, as he slid his moist index finger inside her asshole. “The only purpose your pussy will serve…” he paused as he inserted another finger into her tight sphincter and moved his fingers apart to stretch it out “…is a source of lubricant.”

He pulled his penis out of her vagina and moved it up a hole, gyrating his hips as he slowly but forcefully slid his cock into her ass.

“Fuck my ass!” Vanessa corrected herself.

As John thrusted in and out of her tight asshole, he peeled away at the layer of wax that still covered Vanessa from the last round of punishment. It stung as the wax ripped out tiny, almost-invisible hairs, leaving behind reddened skin. John spanked Vanessa forcefully with both hands.


Joh complied, again and again, leaving hand marks on Vanessa’s cheeks as she begged him to hit her even harder. “I’m gonna cum” She screamed, and John felt the splash of fluid as his balls smacked against her vulva with each thrust. John soon followed suit, pulling out, ripping off his condom and spraying a splatter of ejaculate down Vanessa’s back. He then produced another item and showed it to Vanessa in the mirror: a large, black silicone butt plug. He slid it into Vanessa’s still-gaping anus with ease. She moaned as it lodged into place.

He took one of his socks and wiped the cum off her back, then held it in front of her face.

“Any last words before this goes in your mouth?” He asked, wadding it into a ball.

Vanessa said nothing, she simply opened her mouth wider and stuck out her tongue to accept it. He shoved it into her mouth, making sure that she would be able to taste his semen, and then taped her mouth shut.

John moved her back into a standing position, securing her wrist shackles to the chains hanging from the ceiling. He sprayed the shaving foam directly onto her scalp and, holding her by the jaw with one hand to keep her head still, he massaged the foam in until there was an even white layer covering her head. He unfolded the straight razor and dangled it in front of her face. As he scraped away the foam with steady, almost surgical strokes, Vanessa’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. When all the foam had been peeled away, he rubbed her head to feel his handiwork. Unsatisfied, he applied another coating of shaving foam and repeated the process.

Finally content with his work, he wiped her head clean with a wet towel and applied the aftershave. It stung at first, then the feeling changed to a soothing sensation that sent shivers down her spine.

John removed the tape and took the sock out of her mouth. Vanessa stared at herself in the mirror. The welts on her chest were turning dark red. Her smooth scalp reflected the lights off the ceiling. She couldn’t wait to rub it as soon as he unlocked her wrists. This had been everything she dreamed of and more, she would remember this night while she touched herself for a long, long time. But he wasn’t unlocking her wrists… and she realized that there was still another box he hadn’t opened. He smiled at her, picked up the last box, which was larger than the others, and set it down in front of her.

“You still haven’t seen all your gifts.” John said to her as he rubbed her bald head again.

He opened the final box and took out a device with a series of wires and controls. The end of it looked somewhat like a grocery store scanner.

“What is this? You might be wondering” he questioned her, pausing. “This is a laser hair removal device. One zap of this laser and poof! The hair is burned off, never to return.”

John expected her to immediately scream the safe word. That’s what had happened the only other time he had ever shown this to a sub, and he hadn’t even threatened to use it on her head that time. Vanessa didn’t make a peep though. She just stood there, bald, bruised, sweaty and grinning like a kid on Christmas. Clearly, Vanessa was no ordinary submissive. John almost didn’t want to tell her what punishment she would have to accept in order to undergo the laser treatment. It was something he felt was so sadistic, so twisted that he was almost embarrassed to say it, lest she think him a complete psychopath. He considered audibling to a different punishment but his mind drew a blank, and he had already prepared what he was going to say next during all the times when he fantasized about this moment.

“What makes a woman, dear Vanessa? Some would say it’s the long, flowing hair, but clearly you don’t think so. Here you stand, about to have that taken from you forever. So what else is it?” He mused. John took two fingers and inserted them in her pussy, coating them in her juices and rubbing it on her upper lip so she could get a good smell. He then held a small object in front of Vanessa’s face: A curved needle with a thin, black thread. “I have already scraped away every trace of femininity on top of you, and next I will close up that which makes you a woman below. You will have no more orifices than a man.”

“Noooo!” She yelled “Please don’t sew my pussy shut!”

John felt genuinely concerned, as if maybe she had forgotten the safe word. He whispered in her ear: “Don’t forget, the safe word is potato”.

“Yeah, thanks, I know.” She snapped back at him, slightly annoyed that he would momentarily break character.

He knelt beneath Vanessa and used the fingers on one hand to pry her lips apart. She felt a sudden shock of pressure as he inserted a catheter into her urethra so that she would be able to urinate when he was finished. He clamped her labia with a pair of forceps and, with a swift flick of the wrist, pushed the needle through. Stitching human flesh was second nature to John, as he had been halfway through a surgical residency before his side-hobby of investing began to generate more money than he ever could have made as a doctor. He worked quickly, mechanically. The pain was less than Vanessa had imagined it would be.

When he finished, he held a hand mirror beneath Vanessa’s crotch so she could see what he had done. It was impressive work. He had drawn very little blood, each stitch was uniform in size and spacing. All that remained of her vagina was a single seam with a tube protruding at the bottom, her clit was tucked underneath.

“It’s amazing!” She exclaimed.

John applied a bandage to the stitches, poking a hole to feed the tube through. He held another strip of tape to her mouth. “Last chance! Once this tape goes over your mouth you’ll be bald for life.”

She closed her mouth, the look on her face was stoic as he sealed it shut.

It took over an hour for John to traverse Vanessa’s entire scalp with the laser. He worked steadily and methodically. When he was done, her head looked as if she had suffered a minor sun burn.

Finally, John released Vanessa from her shackles. She immediately rubbed her scalp with both hands. It stung, but the feeling of perfectly smooth skin was mesmerizing. She felt the spot between her legs where she would have usually would have felt a vagina. It was flat, like she had cut herself cooking and needed a few stitches. She looked like a Barbie doll with the hair ripped out.

“Thank you” she said to John as she hugged him, ignoring the pain that her embrace caused in her bruised breasts.

“One thing though” he added. “It takes multiple sessions to permanently remove all the hair with the laser. Right now, you will still have a little bit of hair growing back if it’s not treated again. You’ll need to come back and earn more sessions.”

“Sounds to me, John” Vanessa grinned widely “Like you’re asking me out on another date.”

“I supposed you could say that” He replied casually.

Vanessa kissed him. He tongued the inside of her mouth as he ran a hands down the small of her back and cupped her reddened buttocks, and she ran her fingers through his hair, something she would never again be able to do with her own.

She reached to pick up her dress off the floor, but John stopped her.

“That stays here. You’ll leave wearing only what you have on now.”

She left it there. As she strutted away and began to descent the stairs, she turned to wink at John, wearing nothing but a smile and a black silicone butt plug. This had been a million times better than the scenario in her dreams.

“Oh by the way” he called out as she left “My real name is Aaron.”

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