For some reason, I just love dominating andhumiliating other women, especially the glamour-pusstypes. I consider myself a feminist and have no usefor the bimbos who try to get what they want bypromoting sexist stereotypes. I was clubbing recentlywith my friend, Marta, and I was ready to beat thecrap out of some stuck up bitch. I purposely didn'tdrink so that my reflexes would be in top condition.
I spotted a tall blonde bimbo (early forties) who wasflirting with a lot of guys and generally pissing offthe other women. She'd obviously had a lot todrink. She was laughing really loud and carrying onlike a fool. She was dressed in skin tight redleather jeans and a button-down white shirt tied offabove the waist and unbuttoned at the top to displayher massive cleavage to best advantage; she lookedridiculous as she was too old to carry off that look. Her bare midriff included a visible "jelly roll" offat. Her breasts looked to be about a 40-D! Shetottered around in a pair of high heeled open toedmules - fire engine red - that looked like something astripper would wear. She was sporting an obviously professional pedicure (again, fire engine red) and silver toe rings twinkled on the second and middle toe of each foot. I disliked her instantly. I told myself, that bitch is gonna get taken down a peg tonight! "Watch this!" I whispered to Marta.
I coolly walked over to where she was and bumped intoher. She spilled some of her drink down her cleavage. She glared at me and snarled, "Watch where you'regoing". I responded matter of factly that she wasdrunk and was blocking the way. The blonde then turnedred and said I should learn some manners! I told herto come outside and teach me some. She just turnedaway. I then said to the gawking onlookers, "Lookslike this whore is afraid to fight". I assumed I couldprick her pride since she was a good five inchestaller than me and probably forty pounds heavier. Theblonde said "Ok you little bitch, I gave you a chanceto walk away but now I'm gonna kick your little ass!".
I said "Lets' go, 'Juggsie'!? Outside we went. Shewalked out first, then me, then half the bar!
I noticed as we were walking that her balancewasn't right. I knew I was going to enjoy this one! When we got outside, she announced, "Class is now insession" and she swung at me with a telegraphedroundhouse right. I slipped the punch with ease. Shespun in a half circle and then I started talking. "Noone interferes ... no one breaks this up, right,Blondie?" I goaded her; in not time I had us bothdemanding that no one from the crowd would intervene. Blondie tried a couple more loaded right hands which Islipped with ease; she was starting to huff and puff -a tribute to her age and the non-stop steam ofcigarettes she'd been smoking. I started to pepperher with jabs - light and stinging, meant more toannoy and goad than punish. "You slow, Granny!", Iteased as she missed with another right, accentuatingthe jibe with a stinging left to her perky littlenose.Livid, she continued to swing (and miss!).
"Stand still, you little bitch!", the blonde screamedin frustration. She was too stupid to realize that Iwas deliberately methodically exhausting her. When Icould see she was so tired that her arms werepractically hanging at her sides, then I really wentto work on her - targeting those pendulous udders ofhers. As I battered her fat fun bags, her shirtslowly came undone until one of those melons she wasclearly so proud of flopped out. As she fumbled tocover her "assets", I hit her with a right hand to thejaw that sent her tumbling back on her ass!
She sat there, just blinking as though she didn't knowwhat had happened to her. One big droopy tit wasstill on public display and her big bare feet flexed rhythmically.
BARE FEET?!! That's right! I had knocked the bimboclean out of her shoes! As she sat there on theasphalt looking stupid, I went over and took her bythe ankle. Locking her ankle in the crook of my arm,I looked down at her heavily made up face.
"You're a mess now, blondie!" I looked at hercontemptuously, "You need a makeover ... starting witha HAIRCUT!".
The look on her face was priceless! It was if someonehad splashed freezing water in her face. Her eyeswere as wide as saucers with terror. All her falseconfidence drained away. Intriguingly, She began togently wiggle her long toes; her flashy pedicure andsparkling toe rings inadvertently attractingattention!
"H-hey ... you w-w-wouldn't do that, would you?" shestammered dry mouthed, "N-N-Not in front of all ofthese people. You wouldn't (ulp) ... CUT MY HAIR?!!" I looked around to gage the crowd; it was plain to methat no one was going to intervene on her behalf - infact, more than half the women were either smiling,nodding their head or in some other way showing theirapproval! I went for it!
Grabbing her by the hair, I pulled her to her feet(none too gently). Sliding behind her, I maneuveredher arm into a hammerlock, exerting just enoughpressure upward to control her. She looked prettyshaken by now and why not - having lost a catfight toa much smaller woman! One of her big knockers wasstill on public display and her heavily made up facewas streaked with mascara tears. She certainly didn'tlook very glamorous any more!
Cupping her exposed breast I began to heft and jiggleit, drawing hoots and whistles from the crowd, "What'sthe matter, you old cow?", I teased, "You had noproblem playing the exhibitionist before? Shakingthese fat milk melons in the face of another woman'sman, right? Well, look at all the attention you'regetting now! Now listen up, BITCH ... if you so muchas move a muscle, the beating I gave you before willseem like nothing, got it?". She nodded her headmeekly.
"Marta ... SCISSORS!", I demanded. A grinning Martahanded me a set of shears. I sat Blonide on her assagain and I began snipping away, whistling cheerfullyas I cropped the bimbo's long thick hair. She wassobbing pretty freely but made no effort to resist;her resignation to her fate was complete. In no time,I had hacked her lush mane into a close cropped mess.
"Marta ... CLIPPERS!", I demanded. A grinning Martahanded me a set of cordless clippers. Still whistling cheerfully, I began to pass them over Blondie's scalp. With each humming pass, more whisps of hair were devoured until her head was rounded and bristly.
"Marta ... NAIR!", I demanded. A grinning Martahanded me a bottle of Extra-Strength Nair and a pairof plastic gloves. Still whistling cheerfully, Idumped the goop onto the slut's ravaged scalp and,after putting on the gloves, began massaging into herhead. "It ... it's burning!" she whined as thenoxious chemical dissolved her hair at the roots. This was powerful stuff and it did it's work quickly!
"Marta ... TOWEL!", I demanded. A grinning Martatossed me a towel. Still whistling cheerfully, Iwiped the now inert Nair from her naked skull and usedthe towel to buff and polish her empty bald head to ahigh gloss shine. I stepped back to admire my work.
"Well, 'Baldy' ...", I taunted, "You're about theugliest looking thing I've ever seen now, isn't thatright folks (the crowd hooted and applaudeduproariously)? You're gonna be saving a lot of moneyon hair care for a few months, 'Chrome-Dome'!"
The aging former glamour girl was sobbinguncontrollably now; I decided to cheer her up! Regaining the hammerlock with my left hand, I began togoose her bare midriff with my right, causing her toyelp in ticklish discomfort and jiggle her droopybreasts for the crowd. A nervous titter escaped theblonde's lips, notwithstanding the embarrassingspectacle she was making of herself (albeit with someassistance!)
"P-P-Please (sob) ... l-leave me alone ... I ... I ...(it was then that I started poking that her exposedmidriff) ... ohhhhhh ... hee hee ... w-what are you... tee hee hee ... oh not again ... hee hee hee ...",she began to squirm; I was getting to her!
I started to tickle her belly in earnest. "Tickletickle tickle, 'Fatso'! You made such a point ofexposing your flabby tummy like some Brittany Spearswanna-be, trying to flirt with other women's men ...now you're gonna pay for it! Ooohhhh, you're so softin the middle, 'Melon-Head', did you ever hear of agym? You really ought to tighten up these patheticabs if you're going to put them on public display likethis, dear! And these flabby droopy tits of yours,why, you look like some used up brood sow without youfancy clothes, 'fuck me' pumps and ... oh yeah, yourHAIR!".
The bald bimbo squealed with helpless laughter and inadvertently shook her massive knockers to the crowd's delight as I tickled her mercilessly! Marta stepped forward and snapped the Chrome-Dome's photo in this compromising position. Finally, when everyone had had a good look and I felt she'd been utterly humiliated, I let her loose.
"Now get your skanky butt out of here before I kick itagain!" I warned. Her face beet red, she pulled herbreast back into her shirt and hurried off into thenight.
I walked over to Marta and she gave me a high-five;handing me the blonde's shoes! NOW ... I felt like acelebratory drink! When I got home, I placed the bimbo's shoes into my "trophy case" along with herpicture. They took there place among a collection ofthe shoes and photographs of other bald sluts I'dencountered over the years. I often wondered if their encounters with me in any way "reformed" them. I though about them sheepishly walking home, bald and barefoot. I had little doubt that for one night at least, they'd each learned the meaning of humility!
Rate this story now.
Enter some comments about this story or see what others have said on the forums.
Recommendations
If you liked this story, here are others that you might like.
Your Internet home for stories about male and female haircuts, head shaves, buzz cuts, alternative hairstyles, and more!
Copyright 2002-2012 by the owners of HaircuttingStories.com