Daphne was my long-standing girlfriend and we trusted each other implicitly – or so I thought. For the last two years we had lived together in the town where we grew up and everything seemed perfect – nothing could come between us.

Her greatest asset, in my mind, was her hair: a wonderful mane of waist length brunette locks that was always in perfect condition. She loved her hair and would never have cut it for anyone. Her only trip to the hairdressers would be for a wash and trim every two months.

Recently I noticed her increased interest in the Internet. A few months ago, she would not have gone near the computer but I recently introduced her to The Long Hair Site and other similar Web Pages.

I thought nothing more of it until we received the latest phone bill. It was way above the normal amount and I could see she was spending hours logged in to the Internet as it was an itemized bill.

Why the sudden interest? I thought.

I logged on myself and went through the history pages to find that she had been visiting. The Short Hair Enthusiasts’ page and other similar sites. I brought up the page myself and couldn’t believe what I saw – was she really thinking of a change of style?

Over the next week or so I kept a close eye on the history pages and found she was visiting this particular site more and more often.

But why? Surely the page would not have been updated that often. I had to know more.

I logged in again and found a link to the enthusiast chat page and duly entered. I couldn’t believe what I was reading.

Was it a fetish of hers that I had discovered?

The next day, I discovered a list of files in the documents list of the Windows ’95 start menu. They were titled Cyber1, 2 and 3 etc. I opened them up and saw logs of her on line chats – she had obviously saved them to relive her experiences, but this had inadvertently given me the chance to see exactly what she got from her on-line chats.

On regular occasions she was having a variety of CyberCuts with increasing sexual undertones, all involving her hair being hacked off, and sometimes clipped and shaved. In my mind she was effectively having On Line sex. She had to be punished – she had cheated on me.

Over the next couple of days I thought up various punishments that would fit the crime. It was then that the idea came to me. In every CyberCut that she had logged she said that she would never have her hair cut for real.

The plan was hatched.

The next day I phoned her from work and told her I would be late as I had to cover for someone over the evening shift. I knew she had nothing planned for that night which gave her an ideal opportunity to log in.

At about 8 o’clock I drove home and pulled up just down the road. I could see the spare bedroom light on which suggested that she may well be at the computer, so I phoned her from my mobile and sure enough the number was engaged. Half an hour went by and I phoned again – the number was still engaged. It was now or never.

I sneaked in via the back door, crept upstairs and waited outside the bedroom. I peered in through the crack in the door and there she was – completely naked and in quick succession would brush her hair, type a few lines at the computer and then lower her hand down to her crotch area waiting for the next response from the CyberCutter.

I could not hold myself back anymore and burst into the room. Daph panicked not knowing what to do. I grabbed her as she tried to get up and in no time had her tied to the chair – there was no escape. ‘What are you doing?’ she screamed.

I said nothing and read the conversation that she had been having. It was with Cam, one of her regular correspondents over the Net (another female from what I could make out). They were in the middle of a forced punishment cut – it was time for the real thing.

Cam sent a message ‘Talk to me Daph, are you still there’. I typed back, ‘This is Daph’s boyfriend, I’ve caught you in the act – I’ve suspected her for some time and now she must be punished.’

Another message popped up ‘What do you mean – is this for real’. The conversation went on between Cam and myself. I made sure Daph could read every word. In fact, I read it out to her just to make sure.

‘I’ve caught Daph cheating on me – she must be punished. Cam, you are to dictate to me the punishment that I am to carry out. I will follow your instructions – if I feel it is not enough, I will choose her fate and it will be far worse than anything you can imagine. For her sake, I hope it’s good.’

There was no response. I untied Daph and made her bend over and touch her toes. I wrapped a belt around my wrist and thrashed her across the buttocks 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 times. Her screams got louder and louder until she was crying uncontrollably

I paused and then typed away…

‘Cam I am thrashing her across the buttocks with a leather belt. I will keep going until you give your first instruction.’ The thrashing continued and after the 10th hit a message appeared on the screen.

‘Daph, I hope this is a joke…continue thrashing her until she begs for mercy’ I continued and after the 15th hit, I could just hear through the sobs a begging cry – I stopped and told her to kneel in front of the computer (I knew she would never be able to sit down).

‘She has begged for mercy and I have stopped the thrashing. NEXT’ There was a short delay and then…

‘Tell her to fix her hair, washing it if she has too’

I led her to the bathroom, pulling her by the hair and helped her wash it – this was a regular ritual for us, but tonight would be different. Once washed, we went back to the bedroom and I typed ‘NEXT’

Cam then asked her to blow dry her hair. I did the honors and repeatedly told her how wonderful it was.

‘NEXT’ I typed.

‘Take a small lock of hair, hand her the scissors and ask her to cut it as short as possible’

Daphne did not oblige. I knew this would be impossible for her – even such a small lock. I gave her one more chance and then stood her up and bent her over once again. After two thrashes she took the scissors and cut the first lock. ‘The first cut has been made’ I typed.

‘Tell her to continue, lock by lock until it is all gone. Collect up the locks as she goes.’

This was wonderful to see. A punishment she would never forget. It was a slow painful process as she paused at each cut hoping I would say enough. I took the scissors from her and began hacking away as quick as I could. I gave her each length to hold and told her to form a ponytail from it.

The deed was done – I told Cam and waited for the next instruction. There was no reply, so once again I started the thrashing. Eventually the next message popped up on the screen….

‘Have you any clippers?’ she asked.

‘Yes’, I replied.

‘Then finish the job – no guard’.

I obliged and very slowly removed every last trace of hair from her head.

‘NEXT’ I typed.

‘Lay her down on the bed and tie her hands and feet.’

Again I duly obliged. I could see she was in immense pain and for the first time spoke to her.

‘You cheated on me. You gained sexual pleasure from others. You seemed to be enjoying the punishment and forced cuts the most so you had to suffer the real thing.’

At this point I switched the computer off, took hold of the pony tail, stood above her on the bed and let if fall, strand by strand into her face. She was past crying, said nothing and just lay there.

I left the room and carried on as if nothing had happened, only going back the next morning to release her. I watched as she picked up every strand and formed it back into a ponytail. She said nothing – what must she be thinking, what shall she do?

The deed was done.