You and some friends are at a bar, and you see your ex and some of his friends. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone is talking. But you notice that he keeps getting in little put-downs on you, and keeps trying to make your comments seem stupid. All of your mutual friends are noticing, and are waiting for you to stand up for yourself.
On the bar’s TV sets is a football game, and the talk starts to turn to betting. Your ex makes some snide comment about how you could never make an intelligent pick, that you would probably just pick the team with the coolest uniforms. You decide to teach him a lesson, and immediately offer to make a wager on the outcome of the game that’s just starting.
Right away, all your friends and all his friends start “helpfully” suggesting what you guys should bet. Money is suggested, but is waived off as being too boring. After a bunch of suggestions, one of your friends starts talking about slavery, and suggests that whoever wins gets to have their own personal slave for a day. The slave would have to do whatever their master told them to do. You are a little reluctant, until you notice that HE is even more reluctant than you. So you immediately agree, hoping he’ll chicken out and look like a wimp. “What exactly would this entail,” he asks, still not convinced. “I mean, would I have to do everything she told me to, no matter what?”
You immediately jump in, trying to embarrass him.
“Everything! No matter what the master says, the slave has to do it. No exceptions!” Your friends all nod enthusiastically. Finally, he agrees.
The game gets under way, and it’s fairly even for a while. His friends are all talking about the sexual things he’s going to make you do, but you don’t let it get to you.
In the second half, your team fumbles a few times, and throws a few interceptions, and suddenly you’re down 24 to 7. He and his friends start teasing you, wondering out loud what kind of horrible things he’s going to make you do. Since it is all pretty unimaginative, stuff like washing his car or cleaning his house, you aren’t too worried. You notice that he’s not saying much, just kind of looking at you intently, and that starts to get you a little worried.
The game finally ends, with your team losing by 24 points. One of your “helpful” friends pulls out a collar and a leash, and fastens the collar around your neck. With a flourish, she presents the end of the leash to your ex.
“She’s all yours for the next 24 hours! Anything you tell her to do she’s going to have to do.” Your friend stops and looks at you for a moment to see if you’re going to back out. “Isn’t that right?”
You nod, thinking “how bad could this be? At least he doesn’t know about me and John.”
You get back to the apartment, and he just walks in ahead of you. He’s not grabbing onto the leash or anything like that. You are a bit puzzled, but still not worried. How bad could this be? What’s he going to do – make you have sex with him? So what?
You get inside and he still hasn’t said anything. Finally, you ask him “So what’s the deal? Do I have to get naked now? Do you want me to do the dishes? Take out the garbage? What’s going on?”
He pulls a chair away from the table and sets it in the middle of the room.
“Sit,” he says, and then disappears down the hall.
“Fine, I’ll sit,” you mumble. “Maybe later I’ll stay, fetch, and speak, too.”
He returns with some ropes. You feel yourself getting interested.
A little roughly, he ties your hands behind your back, and lashes them to the chair. He also ties your ankles to the legs of the chair, and wraps the ropes around your thighs a few times and then secures them to the chair. A few more passes of the rope around your waist and to the back of the chair, and you are absolutely tied tight. You struggle a bit but can hardly move at all. As you are pulling at the ropes he steps around behind you.
Suddenly you see a flash of red before your face and he sticks a hard plastic ball gag in your mouth. You try to speak in surprise but he pulls it tight and you can feel him strap it down firmly in back. You force yourself to remain calm and breathe through your nose. As he steps around in front of you he looks down and you can see he’s pissed off about something.
“I’m so mad at you right now,” he says, staring down at you intently. “I just wanted to lock you down and get you to shut the hell up while I figure out what I’m going to do to you.”
He sees your eyes widen in fear and surprise as he speaks. You had no idea he was mad at you. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“I was out with a few of the guys the other night,” he says, still watching your face for a reaction. You look back at him, still unable to speak, but starting to dread what he might say next. Did somebody talk? What does he know? Is he just guessing, or is he sure? Whatever he sees in your reaction, he apparently decides to continue.
“John was there. He had a few beers and started babbling, saying he had to apologize to me for something.”
Your mind is reeling. Oh, crap! That asshole John couldn’t keep his mouth shut! What did he tell him? What if he knows what happened? Your ex sees your reaction and nods to himself, then continues quietly.
“He told me about the two of you. Two weeks before we broke up. The night I had the flu and was too sick to make it to the bar, and big dope that I am, I insisted you go along without me and have a good time. Remember that night?”
Oh, my God! He knows! He knows the night it happened, so he obviously heard the whole story. Why the fuck couldn’t John have kept his big mouth shut?
“What kind of a person does that with her boyfriend’s best friend? I know I should be mad at John too, but he told me how he was halfway blasted and how you came onto him. You shouldn’t have done that.” He is clenching and unclenching his fists now, but still just standing there in front of you. He obviously hasn’t decided what to do with you yet.
Meanwhile, you’re thinking “Oh, sure! John was just sitting there minding his own business and I threw myself at him. Like that’s how it really happened. As if John wasn’t as into as I was!”
Your ex stands there for a few more seconds, watching your reaction. From the fear in your eyes he can tell that the story is true. He looks around the room, as if seeking ideas.
“I don’t know exactly what to do here. I’m thinking maybe I should cut off all your clothes, throw you in the back of my truck chair and all, and drop you off downtown somewhere so everyone can get a good laugh tomorrow morning.”
Your mind is racing a mile a minute. Okay, dropped off naked and tied to a chair. That’s not really so bad… Someone will come around that you know and let you go. It’ll be embarrassing, sure, but it’s not so bad.
“Or,” he continues, “I was thinking of cutting off all your clothes and just driving you back to the bar. Everyone will be there, and we should all get a good laugh when I drag you and the chair through the door.”
Okay, you’re thinking, that’s still not too bad. I’ll be embarrassed for a few minutes, but he’ll look like an asshole for tying me to a chair and dragging me around town. Okay, still doing okay, you think.
“But then I figured that both of those ideas weren’t all that horrible for you,” he says. “You’d be embarrassed for a bit, and maybe you’d be a little uncomfortable, but you’d come out okay. So I don’t think we’ll be doing either of those things.”
Your mind is racing again. Damn! Both of those ideas were survivable. What the hell is he going to come up with now?
He walks over to you, so he can stand over you and look down on you.
“What I want is to come up with something that will teach you a lesson. Something that you’ll remember, that’ll teach you that you have to pay when you use your looks to fuck people over.”
He walks around you several times, apparentl
y trying to think of something. You try to speak but all that comes out is muffled groans. What the hell is he going to come up with? Deep down inside, you have an idea for something that would really hurt you, but it is so terrible that you don’t even want to think about it. He’ll never think of that, will he? How could he figure that out on his own? He can’t, right? Don’t even think about it – it’s not going to happen so don’t even think about it.
He is still standing over you, staring down at you in judgment. It’s obvious he can’t think of anything too horrible to do, and you’re starting to think that maybe he’ll just forget the whole thing. Maybe he’ll get frustrated at not being able to think of anything good to do to you and he’ll just untie you and tell you to get the fuck out. Fine, so he’s mad at you. Who cares? You can live with that.
Suddenly the doorbell rings. He seems surprised and looks around quickly, as if checking to make sure that the sight of you tied to a chair can’t be seen by anyone coming up the walk. After a moment, he leans over and taps the ball gag with his finger.
“I guess I don’t need to tell you to be quiet,” he says, grinning. “I’ll be right back after I get rid of whoever this is.” He walks quickly from the room and you hear him answer the door.
You hear a female voice greet him and they both start talking in low voices so you can’t hear exactly what they’re saying. Apparently his current girlfriend is here. You know her vaguely, her name is Kelly, and you’ve seen her around but never really talked to her. Maybe she’ll talk him out of this. She’s got no reason to get back at you. Maybe she’ll make him let you, because –
“Well, well,” her voice rings out behind you as they both walk into the room. “What do we have here?”
You turn your head as much as you can and see them walk into the room. She is stunning – tall, great body, gorgeous face, and thick, shiny blonde hair in a perfect French braid that falls all the way to her beltline in back. She has a smile on her face as she sizes up the situation.
“My man tells me he’s looking for a way to teach you a lesson, but hasn’t figured anything out yet. I thought I’d give him a hand, since I have a little score to settle with you too.”
You can’t believe it. You hardly know her – probably wouldn’t recognize her if you bumped into her on the street. What the hell is she talking about?
“I don’t know if you know my cousin Gina,” she continues, an evil smile on her face as her eyes move up and down the ropes securing you to the chair.
“She’s a very nice girl, very shy and quiet, and at one point was very much in love with a certain guy. Unfortunately this guy wound up hurting her considerably, and since then she’s been terribly depressed. She keeps thinking that it was some fault of hers that her boyfriend screwed around on her, even though I’ve told her repeatedly that she should be blaming the little slut who threw herself at him that night at the bar.”
Oh, my God! No way is she trying to tell you that John was dating her cousin Gina! That’s just fucking great! You pull suddenly against the ropes but they are still tight. You can’t move anything but your head.
“I think this is a great idea,” Kelly continues, “teaching you a lesson so that maybe you’ll think twice about using your looks to screw over people who’ve never done anything to you.”
“So what do you think we should do,” your ex asks her. It’s obvious he’s going to listen to whatever suggestion she comes up with. That’s just great! Now you have to worry about what this vindictive bitch might think up. He continues with “How about that idea of cutting off her clothes and dragging her back to the bar? What about that?”
Kelly appears to think about it for a moment, and then shakes her head. You can’t help but notice her thick, shiny braid swaying slightly behind her as she does so. You feel a sudden wave of nausea as you notice her looking at your own gorgeous curly red locks. She can’t be thinking about THAT! There’s no reason for her to think of that! Okay, now she’s looking away. She must not have been thinking about what you were thinking about. Oh, my God, what a relief!
“No,” Kelly says, “I don’t think that embarrassing her for a couple of minutes is enough. We need to think of something that will stay with her for awhile, so that she’ll learn a good lesson.”
As she is speaking, Kelly moves around behind you, to where you can’t see her. Your ex is watching her closely, hardly paying attention to you at all. It’s clear that he will do whatever freakish thing she tells him to do. You hardly breathe as you wait for her to continue.
“Now, as a woman,” she says, and you can almost hear the evil grin on her face, “I know what I would hate to have happen to me. I know what would be the most horrible punishment, what would stay with me for a while and constantly remind of what I’d done.” As she speaks, you suddenly feel her hands resting on your shoulders from behind, in an almost familiar fashion. She lifts her hands and slowly, gently strokes them through your curly red locks. Oh Christ! No! No! She can’t be serious! Anything but that!
Still running her hands slowly through your hair, she says “As a woman, I know that the main thing that turns a guy’s heads is great hair. Especially great long hair. Even from across a room a guy will stop and stare if you have terrific hair. They can’t help but think about playing with it, running their fingers through it, thinking of you shaking it wildly and having it fall into your face as you thrash about in passion during sex. It’s the primary thing that turns guys on.”
You feel like your heart is going to burst. You have to concentrate to breathe through your nose, or you may pass out. Not this! Please don’t do anything to my hair! Please!
“She does have great hair,” your ex says, “and she does use it to turn guys on. She flips it around, lets you play with it, tickles you with it. I think you’re onto something there…”
“Of course I am, sweetie,” Kelly says. “She has terrific hair. Not as good as mine, naturally, but still terrific. Such a lovely color, and nice and long, and thick, and with gorgeous curls in it. Really, very beautiful hair.” As she is speaking her hands are in constant motion, caressing your gorgeous red hair, slowly running her fingers through it.
“So what are we going to do with it,” he asks. You get a surge of hope for a moment, thinking that if he hasn’t decided yet then maybe there’s a chance. Maybe they’re not thinking about the same thing you are. Kelly’s answer crushes those hopes of yours instantly, and you feel your heart drop and you nearly faint.
“I think she needs a haircut. A very short, boyish looking haircut. And I would LOVE to give it to her right now!”
You try to struggle but can hardly even wiggle your arms, much less free yourself. You want to shout “No, no! Not my hair! Don’t cut my hair!” but all that comes out past the ball gag is a series of grunts.
“Do you know how to cut hair,” your ex asks Kelly, suddenly looking doubtful. It seems he’s realized that he may not like how you look with all your hair chopped off, and he suddenly seems reluctant.
Kelly reassures him immediately. “Of course I do. I have cut my friend’s hair before – all the time. She’ll look fine when I’m done, she just won’t have this long red hair to flip around and catch guy’s eyes with anymore.”
Your ex still doesn’t seem convinced. “Giving her a really short haircut still seems a bit much, don’t you think.”
“Well,” Kelly says soothingly, “it doesn’t have to be that short if you don’t want it to be. We could just trim enough off the ends to make an impression on her. How about that?”
He thinks about it for a minute as you feel yourself relaxing. Okay, a trim. That doesn’t sound so bad. And if Kelly really knows what she’s doing, a couple inches off the ends won’t be bad at all.
“How much a
re we talking about?” Your ex seems to be going for the idea.
Kelly gathers up your red curls into a ponytail, her hands softly stroking against your head.
“I think if we just chop this off it’ll make quite an impression on her, don’t you?” She strokes the ponytail with her free hand as she holds it with the other. You’re eyes bulge in fear again – the whole ponytail! That’s a couple years’ worth of growth! It’s going to take a couple of years to get it back to that length!
Your ex notices how frightened your eyes appear. With a smile he nods at Kelly: “Okay. That sounds like it will be something she’ll remember for a while.”
Kelly smiles at him. “Go find some scissors.”
He walks out of the room and she drops your ponytail. You feel your hair spill over your back and can’t help wondering how long it will be before you get to feel that again. Kelly picks up her purse and rummages through it, pulling out a comb and few other items. You stiffen in fear again as you notice that one of the items she pulls out of her purse is a digital camera. Kelly notices your expression of apprehension and smiles evilly at you.
“Oh, yes, my dear,” she says. “We’ll be taking a few pictures of tonight’s haircut. Wouldn’t want to forget about this, would we?” She chuckles to herself as your ex comes walking back into the room, carrying a pair of scissors. She hands him the camera and tells him to make sure he gets some good shots of this. He smiles and walks a few feet away from you, bringing the camera up and snapping a shot or two. Kelly steps around behind your and you feel her hands in your hair again. She is stroking and caressing, softly running her hands through your gorgeous red locks. You are stiff with fear, but still totally helpless, secured tightly to the chair. You can’t even move as Kelly secures your hair into a thick ponytail at the back of your neck.
Kelly picks up the scissors, but instead of moving them towards your hair she slides them into your collar, where she rapidly begins cutting away your shirt.
“What are you doing?” Your ex seems surprised, but doesn’t seem to mind.
“Making it a little more embarrassing for the little slut,” Kelly replies. “When these pictures are posted I want them to show her totally helpless, bound and gagged, and without a stitch of clothing on.” She continues cutting through your shirt, pulling roughly on the sections trapped beneath the ropes. When she’s cut the entire shirt off she snips through your bra straps and pulls that off too. You are naked from waist up, and can feel the ends of the ponytail brushing softly against the bare skin of your back. But Kelly doesn’t stop there.
She slides the scissors into the waistband of your jeans, snipping through the denim. It’s a bit harder for her to pull the pieces of your jeans out from under the ropes holding you to the chair, but she manages with some effort. A few more snips with the scissors and your panties come off. She kneels down in front of you and you feel her tugging your shoes off. After a moment, she stands up, looking down at you. You are totally naked, and you can see your ex snapping away with the camera.
Kelly looks at you for another moment or two. “Something is still not right,” she says. After a minute, she walks out of the room, returning with a damp cloth. “Got to get rid of all this makeup,” she says, smiling again. “Can’t have her looking too good in these pictures, can we?” She chuckles and you are horrified to hear your ex chuckling along with her. You thought that maybe he was reluctant about this, that maybe at some point he’d stand up for you. Apparently, she’s got him firmly wrapped around her little finger, and he’s not going to say “boo” to her.
Kelly roughly grabs your chin with her hand and, none too gently, wipes every trace of makeup off your face. When she’s done she tosses the cloth carelessly into the corner of the room. Almost as an afterthought, she reaches for your earrings and removes them, tossing them into the same corner as the cloth. Kelly takes a step back and looks at your ex, who is still snapping pictures. Kelly steps behind you again and you feel her hands softly stroking your ponytail and along your neck. She leans down and you can feel her breath caressing your ear as she whispers to you.
“This is all coming off, sweetie,” she says softly, giving your ponytail a little tug. “In a few minutes it will all be lying on the floor.”
You try to thrash about, but all that happens is that you wind up wiggling around a bit. Kelly gives your ponytail another tug. “Say good-bye to it, dear.”
She picks up the scissors and snips them in the air menacingly several time. Your ex is smiling as he snaps a few more pictures. Your heart is pounding as she moves the scissors closer to your precious red locks. She isn’t really going to do it, is she? She’s just trying to scare you, right? You are frozen in fear as you watch the scissors until they pass out of your line of sight behind you. You can feel her pulling the ponytail taut, and she snips the scissors together one more time, causing you to jump.
“This must be horrible for you, my dear,” she says, pausing just before placing the scissors on your precious ponytail. “I can’t imagine how terrifying it must be for you to be tied down, totally helpless, unable to move or protest as I bring these scissors up to your hair.” She laughs out loud at the fear in your eyes. “You deserve it, you little slut,” she says, snipping the scissors together again. “Now kiss your long hair good-bye!” You feel her place the scissors at the base of the ponytail.
Your mind is racing. Is she really going to do this? Is she just trying to scare you? Oh, god! Please don’t cut my hair!
Kelly laughs evilly one more time and starts to close the scissors. You can hear the crunch as they start to cut through the base of the ponytail. Tears start streaming from your eyes, wetting your cheeks as you feel her sawing at the ponytail with the scissors. Your hair is so thick that it takes her a few moments to cut all the way through. With a couple of final snips, suddenly the ponytail comes away, all that gorgeous hair severed from your pretty head. She snipped it off above the elastic, and the loose ends of your hair fall forward, brushing against your cheeks which are still damp from your tears. You now have a very ragged-looking bob which falls to about chin-length. You are sure it looks horrible, and the expression on your ex’s face just confirms this.
Kelly laughs out loud. “Well,” she says smiling, “this certainly looks bad!” She unceremoniously drops the severed ponytail onto the floor in front of you so you can stare at it. Your eyes are drawn to it – eighteen or so inches of beautiful red hair that used to be yours. You are so distracted by looking at it that Kelly totally surprises you by removing the ball gag. Before you can speak, she slaps a wide strip of silvery adhesive tape across your mouth.
“The straps for the ball gag were going to get in the way of the rest of the haircut,” she explains softly, whispering into your ear again. The sound of your ex constantly snapping pictures drones on in the background. All you can clearly hear is the sound of Kelly snipping the scissors together, torturing you with the sound.
“I’m sure you could get yourself to a salon and fix this without too much trouble,” she says. “You could probably show up at the bar tomorrow night with a sexy-looking bob and still turn heads. And we can’t have that, now, can we?” She laughs again and so does your ex. Kelly steps around to stand in front of you and combs your hair down over your face. Without a word she places the scissors high up on your forehead and starts snipping again, half an inch or so from your hairline. She is giving you the shortest bangs you’ve ever seen! You’ll have a good inch or so of forehead exposed above your eyebrows! This is going to look horrible you say to yourself as you feel the snipped
-off locks sliding off your breasts and falling to your lap.
Kelly finishes the bangs, which might better be called micro-bangs since they are a maximum of a half-inch in length. “There,” she says, “let’s see her go to the salon and fix THAT!”
You can only imagine how bad you look, and the expression on your ex’s face only confirms that the new bangs look terrible. More tears stream down your face as Kelly steps behind you again and you feel her gathering up locks of your hair in her fingers and snipping them off. You can’t see what she is doing, but you can see and feel what seem to be LONG locks of hair sliding down your shoulders and breasts and landing in your lap. She must be cutting off a lot, you think, and you continue crying silently, tears winding down your cheeks and mingling with the snipped-off locks of hair in your lap.
You feel Kelly’s hands as she moves from the front to the back on one side of your head, then the other. At times she roughly pushes your head to one side or the other, and sometimes pushes it down so that your chin is pressed against your chest. When she does this you can clearly see the growing pile of soft red hair in your lap and the tears start flowing again.
“It’s all coming off, sweetie,” she murmurs to you as she continues snipping away. “Pretty soon this will all be lying on the floor. No more pretty red hair to flip around and entice the men with. Too bad!” She chuckles and continues snipping with the scissors.
After a while, she places the scissors on a side table and says “There! Just about finished! Just one more thing left to do…” She walks out of the room and you are left alone with your ex. He seems to be utterly turned off by your new haircut, and you feel a sinking feeling in your stomach as you look from the pile of hair in your lap to his expression of disgust. With no make-up, no jewelry, and your eyes red and your face streaked from all the crying, you must look terrible.
Kelly comes back into the room, and your heart leaps into your throat as you see she is holding a set of electric clippers, such as the kind guys use to trim their beard or mustache with. Oh, my God! She’s not going to use them on me! She’s already cut enough of my hair off; she can’t want to shave the rest off, can she?
Kelly seems to guess what you’re thinking and says soothingly “Don’t worry, sweetie. All I need to do with this is taper the sides and the back so it looks nice and neat. I wouldn’t want you going around telling everyone that I gave you an uneven haircut, would I?”
You think “Of course not, you bitch! We wouldn’t want YOU to be embarrassed by this at all, would we…” But even this little burst of anger can’t revive your sagging spirits, and as Kelly roughly shoves your head forward so your chin is pressed against your chest you simply allow her to do it, without fighting back or showing any resistance.
However, you can’t help but jump in surprise as she turns the clippers on with a loud “POP” and suddenly presses them against the back of your neck. The vibration is oddly arousing as she runs the clippers slowly up the sensitive nape of your neck. Under different circumstances you might even enjoy this.
Using the comb and the clippers, Kelly tapers the sides and the back of your hair. She appears to running the taper pretty high, but of course without a mirror you can’t be sure. And there’s nothing you could do about it anyway. You can feel the tears start flowing again and can only pray that she is leaving you enough hair so that you won’t have to wear a hat for the next year or so.
After a couple of minutes of the oddly arousing vibrations of the clippers against your head, Kelly suddenly straightens up and announces “We’re done!” She takes a few steps back and puts her arm around your ex’s waist. He lifts the camera again and snaps a few more pictures, all the while with a smile on his face. He is shaking his head at the same time, though, so you know he’s not smiling because you look so good with your new super-short haircut.
“I think it’s time she gets to see, don’t you?” Kelly doesn’t wait for your ex to answer. She leaves the room and comes back a moment later with a small hand mirror.
You shut your eyes as she holds the mirror in front of your face. You don’t want to see how horrible you look. You remember her cutting the micro-bangs, and are sure they look hideous.
“Open your eyes, sweetie. You’re going to have to look sooner or later. And it looks pretty good, if I do say so myself,” Kelly is so self-absorbed it almost seems like she is waiting for you to compliment her haircutting skills.
Finally, you open your eyes and are shocked by the reflection in the mirror. Your long red curls are gone, and you now have a super-short pixie cut, tapered high up the sides, with a little length left on top so Kelly could brush your hair to one side. Your bangs are indeed WAY too short, and in your opinion they look horrible.
However, you think to yourself in surprise, the whole thing doesn’t look too bad. You never would have gone into a salon and asked for such a dramatic haircut, but now that it’s done you can tell that you will still be sexy once you fix it up a bit, put your make-up on, and find the right clothes for such a ultra-short, ultra-sexy style. Underneath the silvery tape over your mouth, you manage to give the briefest of smiles. Big mistake.
Kelly sees the smile and immediately lowers the mirror. “She likes it!” She turns to your ex and says again with disbelief, “She actually likes it! Did you see her smile? She’s laughing at you!”
You can see your ex start going into a slow burn and only then do you realize how Kelly tricked you.
“I guess this wasn’t enough to make a lasting impression on you, huh?” He is speaking in a quiet voice, but you can tell his is royally pissed off. “I think we have to do something else now. This was a waste of time.”
Kelly jumps right in, as by now you knew she would. “She only likes it because she realizes she can still be sexy, even with a short haircut. I screwed up, sweetie – I did too good a job.”
“Well,” he says, still angry, “maybe you can try again and do a bad job this time.”
“Good idea, honey,” Kelly says, catching your eye just enough to let you know this is EXACTLY how she planned the conversation. “I’ll get right to it.” She steps back behind the chair and picks up the clippers again.
You are fuming inside but still can’t move or speak. You have figured out exactly what Kelly was up to. She knew that your ex wouldn’t go for a head shave right off the bat, so she settled for getting his permission to give you a short, boyish-looking haircut. But she gave you the sexiest short cut she could, hoping you would actually like it when she was done. And you fell for it, smiling like a fool as they showed you the new style in the mirror. That set him off, especially Kelly’s comment about you laughing at him, and now she actually has him thinking that it’s HIS idea to have Kelly shave your head.
“What a shame,” Kelly says softly in your ear, her breath warm and soft against your skin, “I do a great job on this short and sexy haircut, and now it’s all going to be wasted.” She runs her fingers through your new short cut, then sighs as through in frustration. “This does look good, sweetie. I hope you got a good look at it, because now THIS is all coming off! Maybe in about six months you’ll have enough hair to get this look again!” She laughs and turns on the clippers with a loud “POP!”
You try to struggle but the ropes are as tight as ever. You want to speak, to beg her not to shave your head, but the tape over your mouth is tight against your skin and you can’t make a sound. She’s already cut off nearly all your hair, and it’s shorter than you’ve ever had it in your life! She doesn’t have to shave your head – you’ve learned your lesson and won’t fuck around with other people’s boyfriends any more. Please! Don’t shave my head!
n if Kelly could hear you, she isn’t interested in listening to you. This whole thing is obviously going exactly as she planned it, and she is clearly enjoying seeing you stripped of all your beauty. She smiled as she wiped off all your make-up, and you could see her subtle grin as she removed your earrings and threw them into the corner with all your cut-up clothes. And when she was snipping away at all your long red curls, you caught a smile on her face every time you looked up with your tear-filled eyes. Now she is not even bothering to hide it. With the clippers humming in her hands, she smiles widely as she steps behind you and places her left palm on your forehead.
Slowly but irresistibly, she pulls back on your forehead, lifting your head up. Holding it firmly still, she ever-so-slowly brings the clippers closer and closer to the hairline at the top of your forehead. She sees your eyes widen in fear and horror, and her smile widens.
“Here we go, sweetie,” she says with a laugh. “This lovely, sexy, short cut is about to disappear. Say goodbye to the last of it, dearie!”
Your tears start flowing again as she draws the clippers through your hair from front to back. You can see the couple of inches of hair falling before your eyes. You try to struggle a bit, to reassert yourself, but Kelly is expecting this and grips your forehead even more firmly. She passes the clippers through your hair again and again, and you see more and more hair falling in front of your face.
Kelly stops and places her left hand on top of your head now, roughly pushing it to your right. You try to resist again but with you tied to the chair and her standing you have no leverage, and are helpless. You feel her running the clippers up the left side of your head, around your ears. A couple of quick passes with the clippers and Kelly suddenly releases your head, which snaps back upright. You are still crying in anger and fear at how horrible you are going to look. You can just see Kelly’s smile out of the corner of your eye as she moves around to your right side. You can also see the look of revulsion on your ex’s face as he sees you being stripped of all your beauty. Of course, that doesn’t stop him from snapping a few more pictures of you as Kelly pushes your head roughly to the left and starts buzzing away with the clippers on your right side.
Once again, she suddenly releases her hold on you and your head snaps back upright. Kelly steps behind you and firmly pushes your head forward until your chin is touching your chest.
“Just a bit more and we’ll be finished, sweetie,” she says with that infuriating smile on her face.
With your head pushed forward, she places the clippers on the nape of your neck and slowly begins drawing them up the back of your head. Once again, you notice how oddly arousing this sensation is, and can’t help but wonder if you might allow this to turn you on under different circumstances. The vibration of the clippers on the super-sensitive skin at the nape of your neck is unbelievable!
When Kelly finishes her last few passes up the back of your head, she turns off the clippers with another loud “POP!” Placing them on the table, she lightly brushes off your denuded scalp with her fingers, and you shudder at the soft touch of her fingers on your suddenly super-sensitive scalp.
“All done, sweetie!” Kelly grabs the mirror and holds it up for you. “Don’t you want to see how it came out?” She laughs again, and to your horror so does your ex.
You breathe as deeply as you can with the tape still over your mouth, trying to calm yourself. After a moment, you raise you head to see. You can hardly recognize yourself! Thirty minutes ago, you had beautiful, mid-back length, curly red locks which caught the attention of every guy in every bar you went to. Even five minutes ago you had a sleek, ultra-sexy, ultra-short pixie-type cut which, if worn with a little confidence, would have also turned the heads of every guy in sight.
Now, you think as you look at the reflection in the mirror, you just have skin. Every bit of hair is gone from your head, and you are as bald as bald can be. Your eyes fill with fresh tears as you regard your reflection. Kelly and your ex seem entirely satisfied with your reaction.
“Perfect!” Your ex is smiling as he snaps another few pictures. “I don’t think she’s going to forget THIS for a while!”
Kelly slowly walks up to you and suddenly sits on your lap. You try to lean back but it’s still impossible for you to move. With one hand she reaches over your shoulder to pick up the clippers again.
“There’s just one more thing to do, and then I think it’s time to drop her off at her apartment building. We’ll let one of her friends find her and untie her, okay?”
“You mean bring her home naked and bald and tied to the chair,” you ex asks. When Kelly nods he smiles and nods as well. “I like it! It’s perfect! What’s the one more thing you have to do?”
“Just this,” Kelly says softly as she grabs your chin with one hand. She lifts the clippers up and turns them on. “We need to get rid of these eyebrows.”
Oh, Christ! You can’t believe this! Can’t she leave you anything? How am I going to get by with a wig or a hat with no fucking eyebrows!
Holding your head still, Kelly quickly but carefully makes one pass with the clippers over each of your eyes. It only takes a moment and when she is done she stands up quickly. She does not offer to show you the mirror this time. You let your head hand in defeat. You can’t even imagine the embarrassment you are going to feel when one of your neighbors finds you in lobby of your apartment building – naked, bald, no make-up, no jewelry, NO FUCKING EYEBROWS for Christ’s sake!
“Let’s go,” Kelly says. Now that the haircut and humiliation are over, she seems eager to get you out of there so she can be alone with your ex. “Let’s throw her in the back seat of your car and drive her home. We might as well say goodbye to her as well, since I don’t think she’ll be hanging out in the bars for quite a while, will you sweetie?”
Thoroughly broken, humiliated, and defeated, you simply shake your head.
Your ex picks you up, chair and all, and carries you out the front door thoughtfully help open by Kelly. In moments you are riding in the back seat of his car, staring up at the ceiling, lying on your back still tied to the chair.
At your building, they drag you out of the car and into the lobby. No one is around. Your ex stands your chair up in the center of the lobby, facing the front door. Since it is only about one o’clock in the morning, he figures that some of your friends will be returning from the bars before too long, and he wants them to get a good laugh when they come in the door.
“I hope you learned a lesson,” he says as he walks out the door. “Bitch!”
Kelly lingers for just a moment after he exits. She leans down and whispers into your ear.
“Serves you right, you little slut,” she says. “Now think about this: I’m going back to my place with a guy, and I’m going to play with my hair, and tease him with it, and let him play with it and run his hands through it, until he’s so freaking horny he will bust if he doesn’t fuck me!” Kelly reaches up and pulls her thick blonde ponytail over one shoulder, stroking her hand down it gently. “And while you are waiting for your friends to rescue you, you can also think about just how long it will be before you can do the same!”
She runs her hand over your bald head, just once, as she turns away from you and walks out the door without another word.
You watch through the lobby window as they get into the car and drive away. As the car heads out of sight, the street is left empty. You sigh heavily as you prepare to wait for someone to show up.