Temptations : Emma

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Temptations will be the starting of a collection of short stories based around a salon owner Theo. By day he runs a small salon, normal to the human eye. But by the evening, special appointments get to join him in his dungeon salon, meant for clients of the BDSM and Kink community. Temptations will feature a variety of stories from punishment haircuts, such as Emma below, to consensual and time for change stories with kinky elements. If you wish to follow easier when updates come, head on over to my Wattpad account, look for ChisaiMix and you’ll be able to add Temptations to your shelf.








I tapped my pen against a note pad as I took a call from a new customer. “You’re in luck, I had a cancellation for tonight, I would be happy to slot you in. What type of package were you looking to purchase? “I asked and a smirk fell on my face as I heard the answer from the customer on the phone.


Brushing the black styled locks away from my face, I was brought back to memory over the last few years, and how I was able to make the business that I had thrived. Nestled in a quiet suburb was my little salon known as Temptations.  On the outside, it was a shop that a mother could take their children to get their hair cut ready for school, or the businesswoman wanting a change of style. What few knew was what hid behind the “staff only sign” in the far corner of my quaint little shop.


Most people thought it was my office, or perhaps a broom closet. What it was, was the entrance to the real salon, only accessed by a select clientele within the kink community. A salon that allowed those that were interested in the hair fetish community, or simply wanted to indulge in a sexier fantasy of having their haircut. With a wide variety of packages to choose from, willing participants came to have their hair styled with extras, while other Dom’s in the community requested my services as punishment for their submissive.


I considered myself one of the very few that was able to pull off business like this. Rarely did I receive one-time services, priding myself on the fact that my customers repeatedly returned.


“I see, very well,” I spoke, jotting down the details. James, a fellow dominant within the community has enlightened me that after a drunken endeavour, his wife had cheated on him, supposedly with his best friend who claimed that her long and shiny hair was the reason. His wife said she would do anything to atone for her sins. My information had been passed to him from a fellow client.


A tightness in my groin was felt when he mentioned I could do whatever I wanted with her hair, so long as I ensured that the process would be slow and humiliating.


“Will 7 o’clock work?” I asked. “Perfect,” I replied when I heard the answer. “The shop itself will be locked up when you arrive, simply ring the doorbell and I’ll escort you inside and go through the extra documentation I require.”


I smiled brightly when I hung up the phone. The sadist in me enjoyed the punishment packages the most. I wanted to set up for the appointment that was several hours away, only to be brought back to my storefront reality as my 11 am appointment walked through the door.


“Welcome, come to have a seat, what are we thinking of doing today?”




After my final customer left for the day, with a brand-new bright colour for her hair, I locked the front doors and turned the light to my open sign off. Pulling a key out of my pocket I unlocked the door which leads to my secret salon. Turning the lights on revealed the dungeon-like area.


Humming softly, I made sure everything was in working order. I was prepared for James’s sub to go short, though I didn’t plan for her to go bald, I certainly would make it happen if she put up a fight. Thankfully The large specially made barber chair that sat in front of a Styling Station with a large golden mirror. I had this chair made with attached buckles one the arms, chest, waist and legs. With a press of hydraulics, the chair could be tipped back and allow me access to shave my client’s most delicate parts. My station was equipped with everything from rollers and rods, to a variety of scissors and clippers, and finally my prized straight blade.


My dungeon reminded me of Sweeny Todd. I had installed tracks that allowed me to push the chair where I pleased, from the washing station to a jail cell, or just a closer look at the wall filled with riding crops and other dubious devices. Quite often I would turn the chair away from the mirror for my clients to be surprised. Tonight, my victim would watch.


Time had flown by and my lips curled in a smile when I heard the doorbell ring from above, signalling me that my clients were here.


With ease, I travelled upstairs to see my customers waiting outside the door. I unlocked my door and invited them in. James was dressed in a business suit with his hair neatly faded on each side.  I’m sure I would make a client out of him after tonight. The female looked a little uncertain, visibly uncomfortable, seeing as she probably didn’t know what she would be expecting tonight. A silk blindfold was wrapped around her head, hindering her ability to see where she had been brought.


My hands itched at the chance to plunge into the long brown hair. It was naturally wavy, and it looked well taken care of, considering it was reaching down the middle of her back. She would leave this shop much lighter than she arrived.


“Welcome,” I greeted. “You must be James,” I said, extending my hand to shake his. “And who is this?”


With a stern voice, he wrapped his arm around the short girl and pulled her close. “This is my wife Emma, she’s who you’ll be servicing tonight.”


“It’s nice to meet you, Emma, my name Theo,” I said softly, introducing myself and instilling a false sense of security. “Why don’t you follow me.”


Carefully I lead them to the basement, making sure that James was able to safely lead his sub down the set of stairs. “Why don’t we let Emma sit down here and we can talk,” I suggested to James, while simultaneously taking the coat that James had pulled off Emma. She was in a white blouse and a floral black skirt. James carefully leads her to sit on the barber chair. She sat with a pristine posture and her hands in her lap.


“Stay there Emma, and don’t remove the blindfold, hands stay in your lap,” he said sternly.


“Yes sir,” a meek voice escaped, being the first thing, I heard from her.


I lead James over to my desk in the basement. I kept forms and other documents related to my downstairs business. For my safety and that of my clients, I required non-disclosure agreements to be signed. I was also assured that Emma was a willing participant. Though I carried out the punishments, I made sure that I was doing it on consensual customers. I refused if there was any indication that it wasn’t, even going as far to bring them back to the upstairs salon and treat them to a styling instead, while allowing them to find safe refuge if needed. Emma however looked like she was aware of what would be going on.


“Do you intend to watch?” I asked. James shook his head.


“I’m going to run some late-night errands, prepare for tonight’s festivities after this. I’m assuming she’ll be requiring a lot of aftercare after tonight.” James struck me as a Dom that cared for his sub, considering he was so willing to care for her and forgive her for what she had done.


Before I lead James out, he walked over to Emma and kissed her on the lips. “You will do anything Theo says, he won’t hurt you, but he will be carrying out your punishment tonight. You will answer with yes sir or no sir. The more you put up a fight the more severe your punishment might be. Do you understand?”


Hesitantly Emma replied. “Yes sir.”


He left one more kiss on her lips before I escorted him out of the shop, locking the door behind him. I was sure that Emma would stay in her place like a statue until I returned. My suspicions were writing as I returned to the basement, locking the door behind me. I glanced over the document that James had signed for Emma, letting me look at the services that I was and wasn’t allowed to give her.


I walked behind Emma and my hands graced over the blindfold that was tied at the back. Slowly I removed it, allowing her the first glances of my little dungeon. I carefully set my hands on her shoulders firmly. I could tell there was fear instilling in her eyes and her hands instantly moved up to the ends of her hair. I had a feeling she knew what she was going to go through.


Carefully I started to thread my hands through the auburn locks, detangling the hair with my fingers. “So,” I started. “It’s to my understanding that you know why you’re here tonight?” I asked.


Emma nodded slowly.


“Yes sir, I’m here because I cheated while I was drunk. I said I would accept any punishment to ask for his forgiveness.”


“Do you feel like you are being forced into this at all?” I asked carefully.


She shook her head. “No sir,” she replied genuinely.


“Good,” I mused as I continued to calm her with my hands in her hair. “James told me the reason why his best friend slept with you was because of your hair, is that true?” I asked. I could feel her shoulders tense. I had a feeling she was realizing just what her punishment might be.


I could see her eyes begin to water. “Oh my god, you’re going to make me bald,” she let out in sheer terror and moved to stand up. Before she could get any farther, I moved my hands back to her shoulders and firmly sat her back down.


“I’m not going to make you bald,” I said firmly. “The only reason why you will walk out here bald is if you make it hard for me to do what I’ve been asked,” I spoke both sternly and sincerely. “Do you understand?” I asked.


“Yes… sir,” she finally replied.


Slowly I turned the chair around to face me, though I didn’t expect her to leave anymore, I quickly fastened the leather strap around her chest. And waist. “This is to ensure we don’t have any more of those outbursts,” I spoke softly, and I could feel her wriggling.


“What are you going to do to me,” she asked faintly as I secured her arms and her legs in the chair. “Please don’t make my hair too short, I’ve grown it for so long,” she began to plead.


“I know you have,” I followed, turning the chair back to the mirror. “And is this the same hair that allowed you to allow your husband’s best friend to have sex with you?” I asked. Emma didn’t reply and I prodded further, “well?”




“Yes, what?”


“Yes sir,” she finished.


“Better, and now we are going to make sure this best friend doesn’t look at you the same way again. So, you are going to sit in this chair and let me cut your hair, finding a style I think only your husband will appreciate. I moved towards the wall away from the chair and retrieved a cape. It was another item that I had made especially for this. I tossed the black and white pinstriped cape over Emma.


The cape was heavily weighted, I moved her hair with ease to allow the clasp to fasten behind her. This cape gave both a calming effect, coupled with the feeling that it would be impossible to move. Emma was securely fastened to the chair and any thoughts she had of leaving it were diminished.


Slowly I reached for my brush and started to brush her hair softly, assessing the quality of it. It had to be virgin hair. Apart from the splitting ends, her hair was thick and healthy. I reached over towards my shelves of assorted instruments to retrieve my scissors, allowing myself the pleasure of opening and closing the scissors near her hear so she could hear the sound.


“I’m going to start with getting rid of these dead ends first,” I commented coldly, letting her watch in the mirror as I began to held the end of her hair up so she could see how much I was cutting. She easily had 18 inches of hair. Her eyes widened as I seamlessly used the scissors to crunch through a chunk of hair. I let the hair fall onto her lap, seeing a mere three inches. I continued to drop the hair in front of her face. Each time my scissors made contact with her hair; a tear dropped across her cheek.


“Is… is that it, sir?” She asked when I had set the scissors and my comb down. I had trimmed the ends of her hair, a minuscule amount of hair compared to what she would be losing. I came around behind her again once again began playing through her hair with my hands.


“Just a trim, Emma?” I jokingly asked.  “Do you think trim is going to be enough? Hmm?”


Emma looked afraid to answer but she scrunched her face, looking at a vain of hope that it would be.


“Maybe it is….” She tried.


I clicked my tongue at her a few times and shook my finger.


“No Emma, I don’t think it is. But before I cut your hair any further, I want to wash it. And while I do that, I want you to continue to think about a length that you think would be an appropriate amount to lose for your punishment.”


Though I had no intention of giving her the ability to choose, I wanted to give her the thought that she was safe, and had control. With a pump of a lever, the security latch which kept the chair in place was released and I was free to Move Emma towards the washbasin in the corner of the room. I could tell she was thinking of what she could get away with.


Tipping her chair back, I collected the mass amount of hair she still had into the basin. I started the water and found a good temperature to wet her hair with. I allowed my hands to work a lather of shampoo into her hair, massaging her head. I could feel the tension in her body dissipate and a soft sigh escapes her mouth.


“Don’t enjoy this too much,” I said as I rinsed out the shampoo from her hair. “This is supposed to be a punishment,” I reminded, following the shampoo with conditioner, combing it through the ends of her freshly trimmed hair. It was as if I had lulled her to sleep when I finished rinsing. I roughly wrapped a towel around her head and pushed her back to the chair where she slowly started to become more attentive again, clearly realizing that everything she was going through wasn’t a dream.


I rubbed the product into my hand to add to her washed hair and combed through it with the ease of my fingertips.  I continued to leave her to her thoughts as I dried her hair. I spent a good fifteen minutes making sure her hair had been dried shape. When I was done, I began to gather all of her hair.


“Well, Emma? Have you thought of a suitable length yet?” I asked casually, pulling her head back with my hand in her hair, showing her that I had the power.


“I… I could show you if you remove the straps,” she choked out, allowing a chuckle to escape my mouth. She didn’t think that was possible, did she?


“Not happening Emma, tell me with your words,” I commanded, pulling just a little more. “My guess is you have about 15 inches of hair on your little head. “Give me a number,” I suggested.


Emma bit her tongue and looked at me fearfully in the mirror.


“Maybe… 3 more?” she asked.


I shook my head into the mirror. “I think it should be more than that,” I replied. “I’ll give you one more chance before I make my opinion.”


Emma gasped, clearly distraught that she only had one more chance before she started to see what she was going to be losing. “5…?” she breathed. I scoffed and let go of her hair. I moved by her and reached for a set of elastics.


“That’s close Emma, but that’s not it,” I answered and began to pump up the chair to a good height. “I think I’m going to bring your hair to about here to start,” I showed, bringing both of my hands to the side of her head. I placed them just above her shoulder.


Her eyes widened in fright.


“Oh, please no, that will never work for me,” she breathed out. “My hair will be poufy; it will never look good.”


Chuckling I began to section her hair into several ponytails with elastics.


“But I bet your husband would love what you would look like no matter what,” I answered. “Plus,” I began to add, getting close to her ear as I said it. “I’m still going to make it shorter.”


“Please, please don’t do it, I promise, I will be good from now on, I won’t do anything bad.”


I continued to chuckle as I reached for my scissors once again. “Oh Emma, I’m only doing what’s good for you. Do you know how much good you’ll be doing when I cut these off?” I chimed, dangling a sectioned ponytail in front of her face, ready to be cut.


“Think of a little girl with cancer, a little girl who’s done nothing but good and has lost her hair. Do you think that you deserve to have such long hair after cheating on your husband?”


Emma didn’t answer quickly, but she started to look down at the weighted cape she wore.


“No, sir,” she finally replied.


“That’s right.”


Taking my scissors, I made the first cut through the 6 ponytails that I had sectioned off just above her shoulders. Slowly I cut through the first ponytail that was right next to her right ear, making sure I did so slowly, allowing her to hear each crunch of the scissors.


“That’s one,” I said when the hair was released from her head. I dangled it in front of her face before setting it on the counter in front of her so she could see it. I followed the same process with the other ponytails until I had reduced her hair to shoulder length.


“Now, what’s next?” I began to ask her, trying to play eenie minie moe with the instruments that I could choose from. I playfully picked up a pair of clippers and held them in front of her face. I had just turned them on when my phone began to ring.


I turned off the clippers disapprovingly, setting them down in plain sight for Emma to see.


“Temptations, this is Theo, how can I help,” I said pleasantly.


“Oh, of course, I can let you back in, we’ve just really started to get going,” I replied looking at Emma. “I’ll be right there.” I turned off my phone.


“That was James, Emma,” I replied.


“He’s here to take me home now?” she quickly asked, thinking it was over. I did not doubt that her punishment was not over. I would allow James to make that decision.


“I don’t think so,” I replied with a smirk before leaving her in the chair. I was a little disappointed that James had interrupted, but I would let him in nonetheless. When James and I re-entered the basement, Emma burst into tears as James walked up to her and see the clippings on the floor and the hair on the counter.


He leaned against the wall crossing his arms as Emma burst into tears explaining how short that I had cut it, mentioning that it was going to look horrible. James didn’t pay much attention to the tears.


“Isn’t this punishment enough?” she asked.


“I don’t think it is,” James said simply, turning back to me. “Please, continue.”


Smiling I walked back over to Emma who was now sitting mortified that James hadn’t backed her up.


“I’ll start with a cute bob, and I’ll let you decide from there, how does that sound?” I suggested and grabbed the spray bottle, wetting her shoulder-length hair down before sectioning it.


James extended his hand out as if to say “go ahead.”


“Look down Emma,” I instructed as I slowly started to comb down the sectioned hair at her nape and prepared the scissors. I let the cold blade brush against her neck before slowly opening and closing the scissors against the sectioned hair, carefully combing down the damp hair each time I felt it went off track.


The room was silent as the scissors continued to make their way through Emma’s hair. James wanted Emma intently as I continued to section and cut more hair from her head, each time letting the dampened bits of hair fall in front of her face. When I had brought her down to a rough bob, I turned to James.


“Is this short enough?” I asked inquisitively.


Emma looked towards James in the vain hope that he might say yes, only for James to shake his head.


“Not yet,” he replied, and then pulled out of his phone. “I was thinking something like this,” James said and showed me a photo on his phone. Emma tried to crane her head in a way to try and see it, much to her dismay, it was for my eyes only.


“Oh,” I hummed. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. I didn’t expect you to want it so short,” I chided.


James had selected a very short pixie cut with shaved sides and a small amount of hair on top. I had only planned to use the clippers to shave Emma’s nape for an undercut, and let her leave with a longer pixie. What James wanted was drastic, but I had no objections.


“Please James, no more, I don’t want to look ugly,” Emma began to cry as I returned to her chair and sectioned the top from the rest of her hair.


“Emma, I will love you no matter what you look like,” James comforted. “Just remember that after this, all will be forgiven,” he said. “And Kyle will never look at you the same again.”  I gathered that Kyle may have been the one Emma had slept with. “If you continue to put up a fight, I’ll let him shave you bald, do you understand?”


Emma looked like she was about to fight back until James mentioned the word bald.


“Yes sir,” she finally replied and she visibly shrunk in the chair.


I put my hands on her shoulders. “I think you’ll look fine in this hairstyle,” I tried to comfort. Normally I would use the clippers to reduce all of the hair. But I decided that I would elongate the time by taking each strand of hair and letting the scissors cut as close to the scalp as possible.  When this was done, I reached my hand for the clippers and placed my number three guard on them.


“Just remember Emma, if you make this harder these clippers will be used on all of your head,” I reminded, watching her close her eyes.


“Open your eyes, Emma,” James instructed.


“I don’t want to watch,” she replied.


“Open them, or I’ll let him shave everything.”


Reluctantly Emma opened her eyes and watched as I tilted her head to the left and slowly plunged the clippers into her hair from bottom to top, flicking the remains of her hair with each stroke. When I had gone around her entire head, I turned the clippers off. I had reduced the sides to 3/8 of an inch.


Emma sighed relief, only to look in horror as I replaced the guard with a number 2 attachment.


“Still needs to be shorter,” I said, turning on the instrument and following the same process with the sectioned hair, allowing the clipped ends to fade to a 1/4 inch. James looked like he was pleased with what he saw so far.


I set the clippers down and unpinned the top of her hair, allowing what remains cover what looked like it could be an under shave.


“Are you leaving it like this?” She cautiously asked.


“What do you think?” asking as I combed through the top section of her hair. When Emma didn’t reply, I figured she knew it wasn’t over. I gathered the hair in a large chunk and pulled my scissors out once again to lop off a large portion that wasn’t needed. I sprayed it down once more and with ease, I began reducing the length between two and three inches. I played with the hair to see which way it would fall.


“How does this look,” I asked, looking towards James. I continued to play as James walked around Emma to see the look that I had given her. James ran his hands along the side of her hair.


“It feels like mine,” he answered.


“Is it not short enough?” I asked.


James paused before answering, looking at Emma’s face, gauging what she might try to say.


“It’s short enough,” he concluded. Visibly, Emma sighed in relief as if her punishment was over. She gasped when I grabbed the clippers once more, attaching a larger guard this time.


“I thought he just said it was short enough,” Emma let out with a bit of anger.


“It is,” I answered before James could step in with a stern remark. “Which is why I have a larger guard on, I just want to blend the back a bit so it doesn’t look like long hair and shaved parts. It will be fine,” I assured.


Biting her lip, Emma replied, “sorry.”


Emma’s torture was soon closing as I blended the hair in the back and proceeded to take my thinning shears to the thick hair that remained. “Just think how much easier it’s going to be to care for this hair,” I mused. “So much cheaper to take care of.”


When I had finished with the thinning shears, I used a little bit of product in my hands to play with the hair on top to look full. I looked to James for the final answer. “Was this what you were thinking of?” I asked. James smiled.


“Stunning,” he replied, looking at Emma. “What do you think?” he asked. Emma looked tired. Her face was puffy with tears that she had shed throughout the entire process. She knew it had to be over when I undid the clip at the back of the cape, allowing the rest of the hair on it to flourish to the ground.


“I look like a boy,” she pouted.


Rather than giving a stern remark, James simply began to undo the constraints that bound her to the chair and helped to stand her up, embracing her face with a long kiss.


“It doesn’t matter, I think it looks beautiful,” he concluded.


Emma burst into tears and wrapped her arms around James tightly. I could barely make out anything she was saying other than repeating the words ‘sorry’ over and over again. “It’s over, sweetie,” he said softly. “In a month we’ll come back and I’ll let him fix both of us next time. I think this is a wonderful style for you,” he complimented, clearly providing care for his sub that every Dom should after a punishment.


I was happy that James was pleased with my service. I had found two more clients to add to my list. I escorted the couple back upstairs; James had resorted to carrying the limp and shaking Emma up the stairs. He generously tipped me for the night’s endeavour. I sent them home with a brochure with the rest of my services and packages available, expecting to see them in the near future.
















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