Tinder Fetish: Shaved Mistress Part 2

Maddie’s life took a wild turn the day she stumbled across that Reddit post about her shaving stories. What started as whispers from her past dates—Sam and Tyler spinning tales of her fetish—had now exploded into something bigger. The internet dubbed her the “Shaved Mistress,” and instead of shrinking back, Maddie decided to lean into it. Hard.

She grabbed her phone and posted a bold update to her Reddit profile: photos of her gleaming clippers, a close-up of her freshly shaved head—smooth and shiny like a polished stone—and a risqué shot of herself in a low-cut top, her bald scalp catching the light. The caption? “The Shaved Mistress is here. Who’s ready?” Her previous dates had painted her as some mythical figure, and now she was stepping into the role, owning every bit of it.

Her inbox buzzed with comments, but one message stopped her cold. A guy named Corey slid into her DMs: “How much do you charge for a date and shaving experience?” Maddie stared at the screen, her heart thudding. What the hell? She hadn’t expected this—someone willing to pay for what she’d been doing for kicks. Her mind raced. Is this a business opportunity? Could I actually make money off this? But then came the doubts: How safe is it? What am I even doing? Still, the thrill outweighed the fear. She typed back, “$1000. PayPal: shavedmistress@…” and hit send, half-expecting nothing to come of it.

Minutes later, her phone pinged. PayPal: $1000 received. Maddie’s jaw dropped. Oh my God, this is happening. She had no clue what to do next, but she wasn’t about to back out. She messaged Corey: “Meet me at The Razor’s Edge bar, 8 PM.” Then she texted her friend Jake, a barber who’d shaved her head before and knew her secret. “Dude, you won’t believe this. Some guy just paid me $1000 to shave him. He saw the Reddit stuff.”

Jake’s reply came fast: a string of laughing emojis. “You’re shitting me.” Then, after a pause: “You can use my barbershop for it, but no sex, and I want $300 for the space. I’ll wait at the bar.” Maddie smirked. Sex was never her thing with this—just the shave, the rush, the control. “Deal,” she texted back. “I’ve got this.”

By 8 PM, Maddie was ready, fully embracing her Shaved Mistress persona. She slipped into a tight leather outfit—black, curve-hugging, with a zipper pulled low enough to tease. Her head was shaved that afternoon, smooth as a baby’s bottom, and she’d rubbed a light oil into her scalp to make it gleam. She walked into The Razor’s Edge, heels clicking, confidence radiating.

Corey was already there, fidgeting at a corner table. He was average-looking, with messy brown hair begging for a buzz. When he saw Maddie, his eyes widened, stunned by her beauty—her bald head striking, her leather outfit screaming power. “M-Maddie?” he mumbled, tripping over his words.

She flashed a wicked grin. “That’s me, Corey. Ready for your shave?” He nodded, nervous as hell, mumbling through small talk as she led him to Jake’s barbershop nearby. This’ll be easy, she thought, watching him squirm.

Inside, she pointed to the barber chair. “Sit.” Corey obeyed, and she snapped a cape around his neck. “Here’s how it’s gonna go,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m shaving you like you’re headed to boot camp. Quick, no nonsense, bald as hell.” She grabbed the clippers, flicked them on, and the hum filled the room. Corey’s breath hitched as she buzzed the first strip right down the middle, his hair falling in clumps.

She worked fast—clippers carving through his mop, leaving stubble in their wake. Then came the razor, scraping his scalp clean until it shone. As she shaved, she leaned in close, whispering dirty in his ear: “You love this, don’t you? Being stripped bare, all that hair gone. So smooth, so helpless.” Corey’s face flushed, his hands gripping the chair. She could tell he was hooked.

In the final moments, as she wiped his head clean, she noticed a wet spot on his jeans—he’d lost it, overwhelmed by the mix of nerves and arousal. Maddie didn’t flinch. She dusted off his smooth dome with a brush, her fingers lingering. “Look at you, all perfect now,” she purred. “I enjoyed this, Corey. Hope it’s not our last shave.” He stammered a “T-thank you,” handed her an extra $200 tip, and shuffled out, happy but clearly embarrassed.

Jake stepped out from the back, laughing his ass off. “First client, and he’s already a mess. You’re a natural.” Maddie handed him his $300 cut, smirking. “You want to do this again?” he asked, pocketing the cash.

“Hell yeah,” she said, adjusting her leather top. “The Shaved Mistress is just getting started.”