I arrive in your hotel room, only to find that you have put a chair in the middle of the room, facing away from the mirror. "Lillai," you say, "I appreciate that you have chosen to meet me, and I will offer you one more choice. If you want me to stop at any time, all you have to do is tell me so and I will. That said, if you make that decision, I will ask you to leave, and you will never hear from me again. If you wish to stay with me, then you must submit entirely to my every whim, and loose all your rights. Nod your head if you consent to this, otherwise turn around and never communicate with me again."
Slowly, I nod my head in agreement, wondering what lays in store for me. As if you can read my thoughts, you say, "I am glad you wish to please me. As of this moment, you are not allowed to speak a single word unless I tell you to first. You have given up your rights to make decisions for yourself, and as such I will make all your decisions from this point on. Although, I will remind you one last time, that if you want me to stop, I will. You know the consequences. If you violate the no-speaking rule, or do not comply in any way with my orders, I will mercilessly punish you as I choose. Now, you know why the chair is in the middle of the room and I don't want to waste time in making you my slave. Take off your clothes and then sit on the chair I have a few preparations to attend to, but will return in a minute. When I come back, I expect to find you sitting, with your legs as wide apart as they can go, and waiting for me with your head bowed, and your eyes to the floor. If you miss a single detail, your transformation will be a lot more severe, but if I find you as instructed, I may be more lenient."
With those words, you go into the adjoining room and shut the door. I take off my clothes, and sit on the chair, spreading my legs as far as I possibly can. I lower my gaze and submissively await your return. My heart is racing and I am terrified, but also thrilled that you want to control me so severely. I only hope that you will be true to your word, be impressed with my submission and not be cruel with me.
You return to the room and silently put something on the table beside me. As I have lowered my gaze, my view is obstructed and I am completely vulnerable. You suddenly grab my hair and pull my head up. You tell me to close my eyes and to keep them shut, which I do. "Lillai," you then say, " I could blindfold you and handcuff you if I wanted to, but it is much more pleasurable for me to not do so, to know that I don't have to, because you are my slave and have to do whatever I tell you. Because you are new at this, I will remind you one last time. You may not resist anything that I do to you in any way or you will be severely punished. This time, I want you to speak. I want you to say 'Yes Master Victor, I understand and serve you. MY job is to pleasure you." Say it now."
Without opening my eyes, I repeat your phrase. "Good girl," you say "Perhaps your initiation will not have to be as difficult for you as I thought." With those words you tie a band around my hair and capture it in a tight ponytail on top of my head. You then move to my front and start to examine my breasts. Your touch is not an admiring lover's touch, but rather almost clinical. "Your breasts are quite impressive Lillai, but my purpose is not to expand your ego with flattery. When you please me, I will give you praise, but your breasts are not a result of anything you did. They're simply genetic." As you speak, I feel a cold substance being applied around my nipples. "You probably want to know what I'm doing," you whisper in my ear, "but you'll find out when I want you too."
I then hear you rummaging around behind me and I suddenly here a pop, which I immediately recognize as the clippers springing to life. In my head, I wonder, "Can I allow this, can I actually go through with this? Should I tell him to stop and just leave?" However, rather than articulating these thoughts, I simply sit, hoping that you will be kind to me, and remember that I love my long hair. However, on the contrary, I feel the clippers biting into the hair at my neckline and traveling up my head. You stop at what feels mid-ear, although impossible to tell and repeat the same path all along my hairline. You then walk around in front of me and say, "Good girl, Lillai. You have passed your first test. No, I haven't shaved off all your hair, but then your haircut is not over yet. I am pleased to see that you've kept your eyes shut this whole time, and although I do see a tear on your cheek, there has been no act of rebellion. No crying though, you are pleasing me, and that should make you happy. Now open your mouth."
I do so, and I feel your hard, thick cock enter my mouth. "Suck me Lillai." you say and I try my best to comply, feeling overwhelmed and not certain of whether you still have clippers in your hands or if you have put them down. I simply try my best to follow your orders.
After I have sucked you for some time, you take your cock out of my mouth and rub it along my jaw-line. "Now imagine that your hair was this short..." you say. "However, you are an extremely vain girl and I don't think that jaw-length hair would be enough to adequately cure you of that." I swallow for fear, at the words you are saying. Observing my apprehension, you say "But you are on your best behavior now, that should count for something..."
I feel you take the band out of my ponytail and my waist-length hair falls down my back. Still standing in front of me, you pick up some pieces of hair that have fallen in my face. I suddenly hear the crunch of scissors, and feel the hair fall onto my forehead, Unable to stop myself, my eyes fly open and I stare at you in alarm. "Poor, poor Lillai," you say, "that little accident has just cost you the conservative bangs I was going to give you. Close your eyes now, and don't let it happen again."
This time I feel the schrunk of the scissors at the extreme top of my forehead. You continue to comb down more and more hair, and match cut it off at a similar length. You whisper, "Lillai, I told you that there was no crying. To show me that you are not deliberately rebelling, I will let you speak. You must ask me to shave your head. You must beg me to remove all your long hair and help you be a proper and controlled young lady. You may speak now."
I am still crying, yet in a shaky voice I manage to whisper, "Please Victor, will you shave my head."
"I can't hear you Lillai, speak louder and don't forget what else you have to say. You test my patience."
I clear my throat and with my eyes still closed I say clearly, "Please Victor, shave my head to help be a proper and controlled young lady."
"That was very good Lillai, and I know it was difficult for you to do. I'll take that into consideration when I choose which attachment to use on the clippers." You then brush my new short bangs forwards and arrange them with your fingers. I can tell that they must sit about half and inch from my hairline, in a heavy straight fringe. You circle around me, and begin to brush my long hair in the back. "It's really a pity to have to cut this all off, Lillai." you say, " I had only planned on giving you a good trim, but now..." your voice trails off. You begin to section my hair while you prepare for the cut. You then pull my hair tightly forwards and snip of a section at what feels about shoulder length. "Don't get too excited,' you say, "I just wanted to remove the bulk of the burden before bringing out the clippers."
You continue to comb and cut, and comb and cut. My hair that was once waist length, is being sheared so that I no longer feel it on my back at all. I feel terrified, but so sexual that I don't know what to do. I want only to please you, but hope that the feeling is at least somewhat reciprocal. You stop your work, and tie my hair back into a high poneytail. I feel extremely apprehensive, as you start to wipe my nape with a warm face cloth and then apply what I can only image in shaving cream to the area that you have already clipped so short.
After what feels like you have shaved me from neck to top of ear, you stop and tell me to open my eyes. You inspect your work, taking out the poneytail and combing my hair down around my neck. You stand back and say, "No, this is not the effect I had in mind. Sorry, Lillai, but you still look too free. I want a properly controlled young lady."
With those word, you take out the comb and start to comb my hair upwards. You take out the clippers again, and run them along the comb, clipping off my hair as you go. My eyes must express my alarm, for you say, "You are mine to do with as I please. Get used to that, and try to enjoy it, because if you choose to stay with me, that's how it will always be. Now, remember how you begged me to shave your head, well I think I just may have to do so."
I believe you as you clip my hair off, along the comb. I suddenly feel a draft on my ears, and realize that there is no more hair long enough to touch them. You wet my head again, and again spread shaving cream on the shaved area. The shaving cream goes all the way up to my eyebrows, and you begin to shave off all the stubble from my eyebrows down. You then take out the scissors again and trim around the hair that I have left. This goes on for about 10 minutes. I am so aroused that I can't do anything, even though I am also extremely mortified about the haircut I am so passively receiving.
Finally you finish and tell me to stand up. As I do so, even more hair slides off my body and onto the floor. "Just about perfect," you say "But please take out your earrings." You then put little pearl studs into each of my ears and explain to be that proper ladies don't wear big hoops.
I stand there, naked for a few minutes, while you just look at me. You face gives away nothing, and I do not know what to think. "Okay Lillai," you say, "I suppose your haircut is finished for now. If you're a good girl, then I may leave it this length or even let it grow a bit. But, any stupidities on your part and the whole thing is shaved off. Please turn around and look at yourself in the mirror now."
I do so, and the girl looking back at me is nothing like the girl I was before. You have cut off my long hair and left it neatly cropped off to eyebrow length. I am totally bald from that point down. You have also created a thick, straight fringe that rests just below my hair line, totally exposing my large forehead. Also, you have darkened my nipples to a deep red colour. I hate what you have done and can't believe that you would shame me in this way. You say, "Don't worry about the shaved parts, it will grow back quite soon. Provided that you are a good girl, your hair will grow into a nice, although fairly short, inverted bob style before next fall when you return to work. You will still look professional, but controlled. I suggest that you follow my orders carefully so that you won't have to explain to your staff why you have a shaved head. I can see from your facial expression that you don't like it, and that's just too bad for you. I like it, and therefore you have to like it. Now, don't make me angry, you owe me something."
Knowing what you are referring to, I kneel in front of you and whisper, "Thank you Victor."
"Oh, Lillai, Lillai, what am I going to do with you?" you ask. "You have just breeched the no speaking rule. Now I have no choice but to punish you. Sit back down and close your eyes again."
I do so, and cant help but cry, anticipating that this time, all my hair will be taken from me.
To my surprize, you tilt back the chair and climb on top of me. Thrusting your cock into my pussy you say, "Since you like talking so much, this time I want to hear you beg me to let you cum."
You fuck me savagely and I do beg, and I say all kinds of things that I never would have imagined, begging you to let me be your slave, to do whatever you want to me, to own me, to control me, to make me yours for always..
When we have exhausted ourselves you say, "I'm willing to let it slide this one time. Now be a good girl and go run the bath..."
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