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Mel hadn't expected it to hurt so much.

As soon as she heard the "swoosh" of the cane through the air she knew that she had made a mistake. Contact with her naked buttocks confirmed that she had been terribly mistaken in her belief that this would be an interesting experiment for a curious twenty-something who hadn't had a boyfriend for a while, and was starting to feel something like withdrawal. But this wasn't titillation, it was assault. The air left her lungs in a rush. She flinched. She tried to stifle a scream, without much success. She was too slow to stop a second stroke from raising a welt in her flesh.

'Stop! Please stop' she begged, tears forming in her eyes.

Mel looked round at the woman wielding the cane, dressed in a business suit, totally out of keeping with her own nakedness. The woman stood, poised for the next stroke. 

'I'm sorry, I've made a terrible mistake' Mel said, trying not to let the sobs loose. She knew that there would be no stopping them if she gave in to their demands for freedom.

The woman looked at her without emotion, her blonde hair immaculate in a French braid. She was elegant, attractive without being beautiful, her powder blue suit expensively cut. She gestured to Mel to stand up.

'Not what you expected?' the woman asked.

'I didn't think it would hurt so much' Mel replied, wanting to look at the damage, but not wanting to. She was grateful that her long brown hair was covering her breasts and moved a hand awkwardly to cover her sex. In different circumstances she would have thought it funny that a moment earlier, she had been kneeling, legs apart on a sofa waiting for this stranger to cane her. The advertisement that she replied to had led her to believe that it would be a thrill, sexy, different. She had been intrigued. The woman had told her that it would hurt, but she hadn't expected that the woman could be so savage. Did it turn her on to see someone suffer? Was she trying to inflict as much pain as possible? Mel wasn't going to wait to find out. She walked towards where she had left her clothes and started to get dressed.

The woman watched her in silence, disappointed that the girl had called a halt so soon. She probably shouldn't think of her as a girl, she must be in her late twenties at least, not that much younger than herself. Perhaps she had started off too eagerly, should have been less aggressive, but the way this one's back arched in anticipation turned her on so much. She would be more careful with the next one. She looked at the girl stepping into her knickers, looked at the way her large tits hung forward as she bent. She could have kicked herself. She caught the girl looking across the room. The girl saw that she had been observed.

'Do you use that much?' the girl asked, looking again at the large wooden frame in the corner, in the shape of an 'X'. She wondered how it had got into the apartment, but then realised that it must have been in pieces when it was brought up the stairs. The would have kept any nosey neighbours from wondering what the woman was planning to do with such a piece of equipment.

'It's very popular' she replied.

'I can't imagine doing something like that' the girl replied.

'Well, you should go and stand against it, see what it feels like while you're here. You came for new experiences after all, didn't you?' the woman replied, watching the hesitation on the girl's face. She had got her bra on now, but had stopped the dressing process. She walked slowly across to the frame, running her hand along the varnished wood.

'You need to lean back against it, feel it against your arms and legs' the woman said, watching. Perhaps all was not lost. She approached the girl.

'Slip your hands through them, just lightly, feel the leather' the woman said, reaching up to touch one of the straps. The girl did, hesitation clear on her face.

'Like it?' the woman asked.

'I don't know' the girl replied. 

The woman ran her fingers up the girl's outstretched right arm, to the strap. She tightened it and then tightened the other, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough so that the girl couldn't slip her hands out.

Now what does that feel like?' she asked.

'It makes you feel so helpless' the girl replied.

The woman crouched down at the girl's feet and took hold of an ankle.

'You may as well feel the full effect while you're here' the woman said, pulling gently on the ankle.

The girl's resistance eased as she decided that there was no harm in seeing what it would feel like. Sometimes she was too ready to try something new. In moments she was standing, spread-eagled, strapped to the wooden torture thing. It felt strange to be trapped there like that, the woman watching her. She was glad that she had her underwear on.

'Do you like that?' the woman asked, still without much of an expression.

'It's different, I'll say that' the girl replied, ready to be freed.

The woman approached her, hand outstretched, brushing a strand of hair away from Mel's face. Her fingers lingered, brushed her cheek. Mel thought about how gentle the woman could be, so different from the woman who had been so brutal with the cane. The woman's fingers trailed down Mel's neck, down the swell of her breast, further down. Further and further down. It tickled. The woman's fingers brushed the front of her knickers. She felt so exposed. There was nothing she could do as the woman stroked between her legs, smiling.

'You like that, don't you?' she asked. Of course she liked it,  Mel thought. She didn't reply. The woman was running her fingers over and over the material between her legs, making her wet. All thoughts of the pain in her backside were gone. She felt warm and horny. She wished that she wasn't here, but with somebody she loved, at home, in bed. The woman smiled again and walked away, behind Mel, where Mel couldn't see. Mel heard the woman open a drawer and rummage for something.

She was back. Close. Mel felt something cold and hard against her stomach. She looked down, just as the blades of the scissors snipped through the material of her knickers. One side fell forward and then the material fell away completely as the woman cut through the other side. Mel looked down at her exposed belly, the neat rectangle of her pubes exposed to the woman again. The woman stroked down the line with the back of her index finger. It felt so good, but she wished that she wasn't trapped like this. The woman tugged the useless material away and tossed it aside. She looked at the girl's crotch, looked at the carefully trimmed pussy, the pubes that stopped just above the lips She bent down and kissed the short hairs, feeling the girl's belly contract as she touched her. She stood up, smiling, cutting through the girl's bra straps one after the other, pulling it away. She licked her lips so that the girl could see the extent of her pleasure. She touched the tips of the scissors to each of the girl's large nipples in turn. She could see them pucker, getting harder as they reacted to the steel. She moved the scissors.

'Would you like me to cut this off for you? I promise it won't hurt a bit' the woman said, scissors poised around a tress of the girl's hair.

'No. I want to go now, please' Mel said politely, curious at how this whole thing was turning her on.

'You'd look so much better without all this' the woman said, bringing the blades together. She watched Mel's face as the girl looked down, watching a small piece of hair fall to the floor.

'No, please, let me go' Mel said more firmly.

'I'm going to cut this off' the woman said, moving the scissors higher.

'No, please' Mel pleaded, aware of her helplessness. Aware of her increasing wetness. The woman moved the scissors down. As if sensing Mel's arousal, the woman slipped a finger back between Mel's legs.

'You do want me to cut it' she said emphatically, bringing her finger up to where Mel could see her own wetness.

'No, I don't, really' Mel protested.

'I think you should cut it off' the woman countered.

'No, let me go' Mel said. She had never had short hair, not for as long as she could remember anyway. The woman's fingers were between her legs again. Mel wished that she wouldn't do that. The woman moved away, then came back again.

The air was filled with a buzzing sound. Mel felt the vibrations against her lower belly, moving downwards, the woman was pressing the thing against her lips, slipping it inside her. Mel squirmed as tremors welled up. The woman was moving the thing all around, teasing her, touching her clit, moving away. Mel looked down, eager to watch, closed her eyes, opened them again, fascinated at the woman's skill with the vibrator.

The woman reached behind the frame again and came back with something in her other hand. The buzzing of a second ago was replaced with one of a different pitch. Mel looked upwards, frustrated that she couldn't move, excited that she couldn't move. This gadget felt different as it moved across her belly. It wasn't going as low as the other one had. She looked down. It wasn't a vibrator. The first patch of her pubes had already fallen to the floor. The woman was shaving her! What a waste of a trip to the salon that had been. Ages getting waxed and now she was just getting shorn like a sheep. She watched as the woman revealed more skin. She had never shaved completely down there. It wasn't right. Women were meant to have some hair there. It just wasn't right. The woman paused, slipping a finger between Mel's legs again.

'You like that too' the woman said, slipping her finger out, shaving again. Mel looked at her pubes on the floor, looked at her belly. She never would have dared do it. It looked good. It looked slutty. She wondered why she hadn't done it herself.

The woman stood up, clippers still buzzing.

'Would you like me to do this now?' she asked, flicking a tress of Mel's hair with her free hand. 'Cut all this off? Make you bald and sexy?' The woman moved her hand down, to gauge Mel's inner-most thoughts.

'I think you do' the woman said, holding up her finger as proof.

Mel didn't know what to say. She had forgotten all about why she had gone there in the first place, all thoughts of a quick thrill from being spanked were gone. All she could think of was how this woman had shown her so easily how submissive she was. But you can be spanked and cover up the evidence, it is not so easy to hide the fact that you have had your hair cut off. It would invite so many questions. What was it about the idea of having her hair cut off that was such a turn-on anyway?

The woman had crouched down. The clippers were silent, on the floor. The woman was undoing an ankle strap. The woman was kissing her belly, licking her, moving downwards as she fiddled with the fastening. Mel's right leg was free. Her left leg was free. She could bring her legs together, but didn't. The woman licked and kissed and stood up. Mel could see her own wetness around the woman's mouth. Her arms were freed, one by one. Mel brought her hands down to her sides, grateful for the return of the circulation. The woman crouched down and picked up the clippers.

'You can go' the woman said. Mel looked at her, not moving, able to cover her nakedness, but not bothering.

'Go' the woman repeated.

Mel realised that there was little point in arguing, much as she wanted to see what would happen next. The woman stood expressionless as Mel stepped into her skirt. Mel looked wistfully at the small pile of her hair at the base of the wooden frame, her short dark pubes amongst the longer tress cut from her head. What would it have been like to let the woman cut her hair? Would she really have done it or was she just teasing, Mel wondered. She pulled her jumper down to cover herself, catching a glimpse of her still-erect nipples protruding through the material, betraying her arousal at what had just happened. She moved to pick up her ruined underwear, but the woman told her to leave them. She wanted to talk to the woman, ask her about what she would have done, but the woman walked to the door and opened it. She had nothing more to say to this girl. She licked her lips as the girl turned her head to say goodbye.

The door closed behind Mel and she walked down the steps to the ground floor of the apartment building. She looked up and thought that she could see the woman at the window, looking down, but she wasn't sure. She walked around the corner to where she had parked, eager not to let her car be seen too close to the building itself. She didn't know how many people went there in response to the adverts, whether the neighbours knew what went on. The last thing that she wanted was to have some snooper take a picture of her car outside a known den of iniquity.

She eased into the car gingerly, not sure whether it would hurt her to sit down. It was okay, she had obviously called a halt to the caning before any real damage was done. She wiped herself with a tissue, hoping that no-one could see what she was doing. She smiled at the thought of what she was doing in a public place. She wanted to sit for a while and think about what had just happened, but she wanted to get away from that place. She drove to the outskirts of town and parked the car. She reclined her seat slightly and closed her eyes, thinking about everything that had led her to go in the first place. Mundane office job, no boyfriend for a while, regret that she had only had conventional boyfriends, and not someone who would test her boundaries. She knew that there was so much that she hadn't done. She had thought about trying certain things that she had seen on the internet, so when she saw an advertisement for a fetish site she had visited it and marvelled at some of the things there. She once had a boyfriend who smacked her backside a few times as he took her from behind and it had turned her on. It had never gone farther than that and the relationship ended shortly afterwards, once she found out that he was two-timing her. So, she replied to the advert, thinking that it might be fun to be spanked a little more and if not, then at least she could say that she had tried. She had definitely tried and just hoped that the evidence would disappear quickly.

Now there was the question of the woman tying her up and shaving her. Was it being tied up that turned her on or being shaved? Certainly the tying up had been a bit of a thrill. She thought that the woman would just let her stand against the frame, so it was a real surprise when the restraints were tightened and she found herself in a position where she could do nothing at all to prevent the woman touching her, shaving her. It was the shaving that did it though. Something that she had never considered doing herself, yet she found herself an observer as it was done to her. There was no force, no threat, just an inevitability. She liked the way that it was done and she liked the result. She was hairless down there. There was nothing to hide her curves, frame her slit. She liked the thought of that now.

The woman wanted to cut her hair. Why? Why had the thought of it turned her on even more than having her pussy revealed? She liked her hair long, liked the feel of it brushing her nipples, it gave her something to hide behind. The woman was going to shave her head the way that she had shaved her pussy. Without mercy, without asking. It had made her wetter than anything for a long, long time. She wondered about contacting the woman again. Should she go back? Would the woman answer the door? Would there be somebody else there now? The woman had been quite strict about the need to be punctual. Had the moment passed? She wondered about going to get her hair cut, tried to imagine what it would be like walking in somewhere and asking them to cut her hair off. Her hand strayed to her lap. She was only too aware that she had no knickers on. She could feel herself getting wet again. She was at the imaginary reception. The woman with the cane was the receptionist, smiling at her, welcoming her. She had the clippers in her hand before Mel could say anything. The urgency of a bicycle bell made her open her eyes. A child raced past, ringing the bell again and again. A woman was some way behind, the child's mother, left behind in the excitement. Mel sat up. She waited for the woman to go past before she had another quick wipe with the tissue.

Mel turned the key in the ignition and drove. Not far, just into town, finding a parking space without too much trouble. She got out of the car and started walking, looking, thinking. She saw a barber shop, paint faded, posters yellowed by the sun. It was nowhere that she could imagine going in. She walked on, thoughts flying round her head, the gentle breeze reminding her of her knickerless state. She saw another barbershop, a unisex salon, but neither of them interested her. There was no flicker of excitement, no little tremblings in her stomach at the prospect of walking in. She turned on her heels and walked back to the car.

She watched a young couple walk towards her. The girl's hair was blown gently by the wind as she walked. She flicked it back into place with her hand. Mel pulled her phone from her bag and scrolled through the list of calls until she found the number that she wanted.

'Hello?'

'I made a mistake' Mel said. 'I left too soon' she added.

'You did.'

'When can I see you again?'

'Now.'

It was the strangest conversation that Mel had ever had, but everything that needed to be said was said. She started the car.

Mel looked at the featureless walls as she went up the steps. She had dallied outside the unisex hairdressers and felt nothing, but she could feel her excitement mount from the sight of this pale plasterwork alone. She stood expectantly in front of the dark door, wondering whether the bell had actually sounded inside. She tried to remember if she heard it the last time. She heard no footsteps approach, but the door opened. The woman didn't smile, but stood to one side to allow Mel past. Mel was conscious of the woman following her. She started to speak, but the woman put a finger to her lips. 

Mel looked around her. Looked at the wooden frame, looked for the small pile of her hair that she had left at its foot. It was gone. She looked at the woman, who gestured towards the frame, a wide piece of leather in her hand. Mel looked at it. It was a sort of strap, but wider, with only one apparent purpose. She looked at the silent woman, knowing that she was most definitely here on the woman's terms this time. There would be little chance of leaving before the woman had done whatever she was going to do. She hoped that it wouldn't be as brutal as the cane would have been. It was wide, it didn't look as hard, it was exciting. The woman cocked her head slightly, expectantly. Mel pulled her jumper over her head, conscious of the woman's gaze on her breasts. Her skirt headed to the floor, leaving the woman able to inspect her earlier handiwork. Mel felt the leather as the woman used it to caress her right breast, to rub her nipple. Mel closed her eyes, wondering what was about to happen. She felt the edge of the strap nuzzle curiously between her thighs. She parted her legs to allow it access. Animal hide met Mel's softest flesh before being withdrawn. The woman held it up to show Mel that it glistened with her wetness. The woman gestured towards the frame and Mel walked towards it slowly, turning so that her back was towards it as she reached it. A hand on her shoulder told her to turn around, and a nudge on her arm was the instruction to raise her arms ready to be restrained. The woman's hand between her legs urged her to spread them wide so that she could be buckled in once again.

The frame allowed Mel to look across the room, but there was no mirror in view to allow her to see what, if anything, was coming. The woman was still, silent. Mel could hear her own breathing, heavy in anticipation. There was nothing; then there was pain. She didn't hear the sound of the strap hit her as all of her senses rushed to assess what had just happened. It had hurt, but not in the way that the cane had hurt. This was different. She closed her eyes, awaiting a second strike. It came, the blow softened by the breadth of the strop. She didn't scream as she had before, she tried to savour it, knowing that she was being punished for her earlier shortcomings, but knowing that the woman was punishing her in a way that she could tolerate. Another came and another and another. She savoured them, looked forward to them, wanted more, but they stopped. The silence returned.

Her head jerked backwards as the woman pulled her hair. The sharpness of the pull hurt more than the strap on her buttocks. She hadn't expected it, she was unprepared. The woman let go. Mel tried to turn her head, but a firm hand stopped any meaningful movement. It let Mel know who was in control. She liked that. She felt the woman's fingers running through her hair, gentler now. She closed her eyes. The hands were gone, the woman was gone. The touch was back. On her hair, on her scalp. Nails, then fingertips, sensations alternating between hard and soft. They stopped. She felt a different sensation for a moment and then she felt a feather-like touch across her buttocks. Her hair wasn't that long, but hair was caressing her body, she was sure of it, sweeping down her thighs, up her arms, her cheeks. She could see now that it was her hair, but that it wasn't attached to her anymore. It was clutched in the woman's fingers. The first cut had been made.

The woman moved round to the other side of the frame so that Mel could see her smile. Mel could see the tress of long brown hair in the woman's hand. The woman held it up and let it fall to the floor, bit by bit. Mel knew that she was wet at what had just been done to her and wished that she had a free hand to explore, but then realised that it was precisely the fact that she couldn't do what she wanted that was heightening this experience for her. She could have gone to one of the salons that she had seen if she had wanted that degree of control, but she wanted this. She was exposed to the woman's gaze, to her touch, to anything that she wanted to do. What would happen if the woman didn't cut the rest of her hair off, just to tease her? After all, the woman knew that Mel wanted her to do that. She decided that she could go round in circles with that sort of thinking.

The woman had let the last strand of hair fall to the floor and had now moved behind Mel once more. Mel felt her head being pulled back again, but this time it was slow, gentle. The woman was leaving her not knowing what to expect, pain or pleasure. Mel's head was tilted so far back that she was looking up at the ceiling. She felt fingers between her legs. She closed her eyes, wanting them to go deeper. They slipped out of her, snaking up her body, leaving a trail of her own arousal in their path. She winced as the woman twisted her nipples, squeezed her boobs, her breath hot on Mel's neck. The fingers moved up, sweeping Mel's hair back off her face, the sharp sensation lingering in her breasts.

A moment later, Mel heard buzzing again, trying to recall whether this was the sound of the vibrator or the clippers. The woman's palm was on the back of Mel's neck, fingers combing Mel's hair as they moved upwards. Mel's head was pushed forwards and then she felt what she had been hoping to feel. The clippers were following in the path of the woman's hand, slowly, probably with slightly more pressure than absolutely necessary. Mel closed her eyes again, savouring the feeling, recalling the sharp pain of a few moments ago, contrasting the two. She wasn't sure which she liked best. The pressure moved to the side of her head, upwards, curving round with the contour of her skull. It was going up high, on to the top of her head. The woman was doing it at last, no more teasing, she was just cutting. Mel's thoughts went to her spread legs, wondering if she was actually dripping on the floor. Obscene, yet delicious. The woman's touch eased a little, the clippers gliding more easily, eager to finish the task of stripping Mel of her long brown hair.

The woman moved around in front of Mel, her attempt to shave her head from the one position having proved too awkward. Mel opened her eyes, wondering whether she should smile or whether that would cause the woman to stop what she was doing. She wanted to look defiant, but wasn't sure if that would just make her look weird. She decided that it would be best not to try to force any expression at all. The woman reached up and wound the still-long hair at the side of Mel's head in her hand. She pulled so that Mel's head was forced left. Mel tried not to resist, but it was still uncomfortable. The woman looked deep into her eyes as she brought the clippers up and severed the tress close to Mel's scalp. She threw the limp hair to the floor with a look of satisfaction. She moved closer and pressed the clipper blades against Mel's head again, continuing with her task. Mel closed her eyes once more, knowing that this couldn't last much longer. In a matter of minutes the clippers fell silent. Mel opened her eyes to see the woman standing in front of her, smiling in that silent way of hers. It told Mel that her job was done. The woman went behind Mel and ran her hands over Mel's scalp, stroking, squeezing more forcefully and then stroking again. There was nothing to impede her progress.

Her hands moved down Mel's back, slowly, deliberately. They followed the contours of Mel's buttocks, squeezing, releasing. Mel prepared herself to feel fingers in her wetness, probing her, exciting her, but instead felt the sharp pain of a slap with what she suspected was the woman's open hand. The report echoed around the room. Mel braced herself for another, but felt the woman's fingers on the restraint around her left ankle. One by one, the woman freed her arms and legs and then stood back as she had before. Mel stepped back from the frame, rubbing her wrists in turn before reaching up to feel her scalp.

'No!' the woman said sternly. She enjoyed the way the girl flinched at the command.

Mel looked at her and followed her gesture to the broom leaning against the wall, seemingly out of place with the rest of the room's furnishings. Mel was to be denied her pleasure for a little longer as she was made to clear up the "mess" that she had made on the floor. She took hold of the broom and swept, aware of her nakedness, but not embarrassed by it. She marshalled the hair into a pile, amazed that all of it had been on her head until moments ago. She looked to the woman to see what she should do with her former glorious hair. She felt no sorrow for it, still glowing from the caresses, the spanking. The woman held out a plastic bag, making Mel wonder what she intended to do with it. Was she going to keep it as some sort of a trophy? Mel scooped handfuls of her hair into the bag, finding it harder and harder to pick up what was left, but the woman's demeanour indicated that not a single hair was to be left on the floor.

Mel returned the broom to its original place against the wall.

'May I?' she asked, lifting a hand towards her head. The woman nodded her permission.

Mel touched her scalp carefully, savouring the feeling. The woman had done a good job, despite the unusual circumstances. Perhaps not quite as good as she would have got from a salon, but perfectly acceptable. She could always try to improve it herself when she got home, she decided. She stood awkwardly for a moment, not quite knowing what she should do. She wanted to kiss the woman to show her appreciation, but she didn't think that that was the done thing in the circumstances. Not quite correct "sub-dom" etiquette, if that was what she had just put herself through. She wasn't quite sure what it had been, she just knew that she had enjoyed it more than anything for a long time.

'Thank you' she said simply. The woman inclined her head slightly in appreciation. Mel put on the only two garments that she had and then slipped her shoes back on. She was conscious of the woman watching her as she moved. It unnerved her slightly as she had no idea what the woman was actually thinking. Mel turned to the woman to ask whether she needed to pay, but the woman anticipated the question.

'Come back and see me, that will be payment enough' she said.

'I'm not good with pain, you've seen that' Mel said.

'There's other things' the woman said, handing Mel a business card. 'Use this number next time, it's for people I like' she said, with a normal smile this time. The crueller side of the woman had retreated back to where it had come from, leaving the softer, caressing, stroking persona to entice Mel back again. She wanted to see this one again, she seemed a promising candidate to develop in other areas. She had gone for the headshave so easily and whilst she might not be right for more extreme forms of punishment there were many uses for someone so easily persuaded.

'Thank you. I will' Mel replied and headed for the door. She went down the steps briskly, keen to get away again, but eager to find somewhere that she could be alone with her baldness and her feelings. Just as she got to her car, a couple of teenagers passed her and giggled. She wasn't sure if it was at her or at some private joke, but it unnerved her for a second. Is that what she could expect from now on? She turned the key in the ignition. She smiled. She didn't care!

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