Stocking and the Ghost Stylist

Story Categories:

Story Tags:

Views: 5,580 | Likes: +6

While Stocking is accompanying Panty to the mall- not like she had anything better to do, and this mall has the fucking best devil’s food cake you can get without sucking off Satan himself.
As she sits in on a bench in front of an abandoned salon letting the orgasmic taste slide along her lips and tongue, she notices something strange. A weird breeze coming from the shop behind her. She stands up and, with her cake in tow, silently pushes around the boards and curtains covering up the shop.

Suddenly, a piece of the cloth grabs her by the neck, and tightens quickly. She tries to reach for her weapon, but the tight grip keeps her frozen in place, trying to hold back a pleased moan. Several more pieces of cloth grip her arms and legs, and pull her in behind the curtain, before returning to their initial form. A plate of half-eaten cake is splattered on the floor, and a nearby janitor who observed the entire scene sighs, before going to grab his mop.
Inside the curtains, the various strands are cutting off circulation and choking Stocking, and she chokes, drooling slightly and smiling. After a small time, the cloth drops Stocking in a plush chair which she sinks into. Before she can regain her senses, a black cape clasps her by the neck much more loosely, and pins her limbs and body down tightly.

Stocking, remembering that she’s been kidnapped, tries to escape but finds it useless. She can’t reach her weapon, and she can’t move from the spot. She waits for a few moments before the chair spins her violently, and she is confronted with a ghost who looks like they should be haunting the lovechild of a Hot Topic and a trendy salon. Black boots, black jeans, a stylist’s smock over a black shirt, facial piercings, and black and pink hair styled into a side-shave.
“Oooh,” the ghost says, “I love it when I manage to nab a cute one, like you.”

Stocking tries to look around, but her range of vision is limited. It looks like she’s in some kind of restored salon- there are signs of wear on the other stations, as if they aren’t used much, but the ghost takes Stocking’s chin and points it back at her face.
“Come on. Don’t you want to hear more about my plans? Or who I am? I have an interesting backstory. I’m also pretty cute, although I’ll admit that death took away a small bit of my charm.”
Stocking thinks for a moment, before barking, “Wait a fucking minute, do you know what I do to ghosts? Especially ghosts which KEEP ME AWAY FROM CAKE? I’M GOING TO-”
The cape tightens around Stocking’s neck, and she gasps, before starting to pant. Her face begins turning red, and a small amount of drool runs down her cheek.
The ghost stares at her awkwardly, mumbling, “I didn’t even tighten it that much, geez… get a hold of yourself.”
“Tighter, please.” Stocking begs.
The ghost sighs, grumbling, “That’s supposed to be a punishment, you’re not supposed to fucking enjoy it…”
“Punish me harder.”
“Okay, let’s just get started so that this doesn’t get any more creepy.”

The chair spins to face the mirror, and tendrils of cloth pull Stocking’s long hair out from underneath the cape, pulling it taut behind her. Stocking moans and asks for it to be done harder, and the tendrils respond by pulling it harder, eliciting more moaning. The ghost shoos them off, and examines Stocking’s hair much more gently, running her cold fingers through it, and sighing.
“You may be cute, but you obviously have no idea how to treat your hair. All of this is absolutely atrocious- it’s a waste of a good face to hide yourself behind this mess. It all needs to come off.”
Stocking, still intoxicated by pain, asks, “What?”
The demon smirks, telling her, “I’m going to shave your head, and make you show off all your beautiful features! You might feel angry or afraid initially, but trust me, this is the only solution for you!”

The ghost pulls a pair of scissors out of her smock, and smiles at Stocking, who finally starts to understand what’s going on. “Wait a fucking minute,” she yells, as the ghost begins snipping away strands, “That’s a crock of shit. I take care of my hair really well! I pride myself on keeping it soft, bouncy, and the color bright.”
The ghost drops a clump of purple hair on Stocking’s nose, asking, “Really? Does that feel soft to you at all? It’s sandpaper.”
Stocking begins to scream, but a piece of cloth gags her, and she can only attempt to yell through it.

The smirking demon runs her scissors along a bigger chunk of hair, and shears it at the neck. She throws a big clump of hair on the cape, and lets it run down it slowly, before resting in Stocking’s lap. As the scissors shink further, it’s joined by another large clump, and another, the ghost working efficiently and quickly, cutting clumps of hair close to the head, until Stocking looks in the mirror and sees a ragged pixie cut. The ghost runs its fingers up the back of her head gently, letting her fingernails scratch at the skin gently.
“You look better already~” she purrs, before adding, “But this isn’t good enough.”
As she saunters over to the counter and grabs clippers, the ghost lets the gag loose, and Stocking pants, trying to catch her breath. The ghost pops the guard off her clippers while Stocking asks, “Why are you doing this anyway? What are you getting out of this?”
“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know? I was going to explain my story earlier, but then you decided it was so much more important that you got off. Well guess what- now it’s going to be a mystery forever.”

The ghost skips over behind Stocking, and pushes some of the hair on the back of her head up with her hand. The clippers follow her hand quickly, shearing away a strip of hair, starting from the nape and running quickly to the crown. When the clippers flick away a clump of hair, they leave behind a pale stripe which the ghost runs its finger down slowly, eliciting a shudder from Stocking. The ghost runs the clippers up another strip to the right quickly, keeping a hand on Stocking’s head, forcing her chin to her chest. When she flicks off more hair, she again runs her finger over the sheared area, eliciting even more shivering. The ghost continues repeating the process until she can pin down an ear and shear behind it thoroughly, rubbing the ear gently and unknowingly turning on Stocking immensely. As the ghost focuses on swiftly and efficiently shearing hair, Stocking leans into the hands on her head, and the hot clippers running up her scalp.
When the ghost fondles Stocking’s other ear while shearing behind it, Stocking lets out a happy moan, and the demon sighs irritably.
“Just like that, yeah,” Stocking mumbles, as the ghost quickens her pace to try and get her work done as quickly as possible.

When she takes her hands away, Stocking asks, “Oh, come on, you’re not done yet. You shouldn’t put your hands on someone like that and then just leave before they cum. You’re not done yet.”
The ghost grimaces, but this creepy girl is actually right. The cut isn’t done yet. She may be dead, but this stylist is still a professional dedicated to finishing her work.
The ghost walks around to the front of the chair, and leans in to buzz the top of Stocking’s head. As she pushes the clippers down the middle of the head, leaving another pale stripe, Stocking comments, “This is even better when I can see inside your smock. You should really be wearing a bra- it’s unprofessional not to.”

The demon withdraws, only having sheared one strip, and pushes her smock against her chest. Glaring at Stocking, she magically switches her shirt to a turtleneck, and continues.
As she shears another strip down, Stocking stays quiet for a little while, and the ghost relishes in the silence. This continues as the ghost continues to shear, until she has to shear up the sideburn and accidentally brushes the ear. Stocking loudly and aggressively moans, and the ghost pushes her ear down with a palm in response, shearing the sideburn and the area around it more quickly than she should, trying not to leave anything behind.
When the ghost leans back, done, Stocking has her tongue lolled out and her eyes rolled back, panting. When the ghost does the same thing to the other side, the intense panting gets louder, until it turns into a yelp, and then deep, heavy breathing. The ghost quickly finishes up the buzz, and shelves her clippers.
Stocking sits, restrained by her black cape covered in pink and purple hair, with a ring of hair around her. Her scalp is only covered by a thin fuzz, her eyes are closed, and she’s biting her lower lip.

The ghost sighs, knowing she’s not done yet, and Stocking tells her, “Not being able to touch myself during this whole thing makes it so much better.”
The ghost picks up a can of shaving cream and squeezes a few dollops onto her victim’s head, forming minature white horns before rubbing the cream over Stocking’s scalp roughly, eliciting another round of panting and moaning. The ghost quietly and carefully takes out a black razor, and spins it counterclockwise, mumbling something to it. A cloud of black sparkles erupts from it, before the ghost begins scraping away cream and hairs from the nape.
“Oh, god, it’s so warm…” Stocking begins, before the ghost orders a tentacle of cloth to fill her mouth. She quietly continues, expertly shaving, with great concern and ability.
The ghost hesitates when she needs to shave behind the ears, but she swallows her irritation and folds it down, shaving behind it just as carefully, even as Stocking shivers.
After it’s done, the ghost quickly shaves behind the other ear, and then move on to the sideburns. As she leans in close, she can still feel Stocking’s hot breath on her cheek, and it almost disrupts her concentration. The black coating on the blade starts to wobble and dissipate, before the ghost strengthens her resolve, and the black rematerializes.
Through the rest of the shave, the demon can feel herself blushing, and her cursed blade has trouble doing its work. By the time she shaves the last bit off, it’s too unstable to remain, and disappears in a black puff of smoke.

The ghost spins the chair dramatically, smiling, and stops Stocking when she can look into the mirror. She pulls the cloth tentacle out, and asks boisterously, “Isn’t it lovely? You look so much better!”
Stocking stares into the mirror for a moment. Her head is smooth and shiny- as if it had been polished. A portion of her long, thick locks are on her lap.
With no sensual, seductive hands on her, Stocking realizes what is going on again.
After a moment, she barks, “I’m going to fucking kill yo-”
The demon drapes a hot towel over Stocking’s scalp, and Stocking immediately calms down, letting her mouth hang open and drooling.
“Oh Christ that’s fuckin’ amazing…”
The ghost smiles and nods, adding, “There’s so much more fun stuff you can do now. You’re going to love this, I guarantee.”

While Stocking is relaxing and the stylist is leaning on her counter, several bullets with the appearance of crystal break through the curtains in the ceiling, and Panty drops in, after falling through. Tendrils of cloth try to seize her, but she shoots them unceremoniously.
“Alright fuckbag ghost,” she declares, “I know you kidnapped my sister, I don’t care why- you’re dead ectoplasm!”
Things are still for a moment. The ghost has jumped back, and her cloth minions are still. Stocking’s face is still covered by the towel, and her body is still captive under her cape. Panty looks at everything, and slowly, carefully moves toward Stocking, throwing the towel off her head and shooting it.

When she looks at Stocking, she busts out laughing.
“Oh my god, so this is what the ghost kidnapped you for?! To make you a cueball? This is too fucking rich, I’ve gotta get some pictures of this.”
The stylist’s eyes get tints of red in them as she hears Panty laughing, and she cautiously asks, “Don’t you think it’s lovely? I did work hard on this. She was enjoying herself before you came around.”
Panty only continues laughing. The ghost, now actively angry, stomps on the floor, and her cloth tendrils try to grab Panty.
Panty easily dispatches them with her gun, but more come in their place, and she’s forced to quit laughing as she dodges attacks.
After a minute of dodging attacks skillfully, trying to contain laughter, Panty pushes the barrel of her gun up into the bottom of the ghost’s chin, yelling “Repent motherfucker!”

Even as the ghost explodes in black, she’s unable to contain her laughter, and falls onto her back. The cape falls off Stocking, and she gets up, fuming. She approaches Panty, and looks down at her. Panty looks up on her, and sputters, “You look like a fuckin’ egg, chica. This is the best thing I’ve ever seen, oh my fucking god.”
“Let’s just get the fuck out of here.”

Back at the church, they tell Garterbelt about the incident. He recognizes the curse, and calls up heaven on his golden phone to ask about anti-curse services.
After arguing with customer service for a few minutes, waiting on hold for half and hour, and then arguing with a manager for another few minutes- with Panty making fun of Stocking all the while, rubbing her head, taking pictures, telling her, “This is so going on Instagram”- he hangs up the phone. “Bad news,” he tells Stocking, “Heaven’s bureaucracy is run by vengeful, petty assholes! Oh, and the curse-breaking services cost a metric shitton. You don’t have nearly enough money to pay for something like that, so you’re just gonna have to deal with being a cueball.”
Grating her teeth, Stocking replies, “Well that’s just fucking great…”

Then her expression changes, and she smiles.
“Although, I think I know where we can get a donor for a really nice wig…”
She turns to Panty, still smiling, and Panty stops laughing for a second.
“What?” she asks.
The sound of clippers starts, and Panty, smiling nervously, backs up a step, saying, “No, wait- Stocking, you’ve got this wrong- you’re not touching my hair- AH!”
Stocking jumps on Panty and blonde hair flies everywhere.
Later, Stocking is wearing a blonde bob cut and Panty’s head is buzzed.
“The world really does treat blondes better! I’ve already gotten two free cakes and a cream pie.”, Stocking starts.
“Go fuck yourself, whore.”, Panty finishes.

One response to “Stocking and the Ghost Stylist

Leave a Reply