Home » Language » English » Bound by Ties (Chapter 14, the haircut excerpt)

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Never thought I would muster up the courage to post on one of these sights, but this fits in to this, so I thought, why not.

Anyways, This is a chapter from one of my novels in the making Bound by Ties.  The book follows a girl who is kidnapped and sold to a guy who does have a fetish for hair.  This does happen to be a dream sequence.  And the full novel, if you so want to read it (as I can’t post every chapter as it doesn’t always involve hair related things can be found here.



The chapter preceding this basically Karen was forced onto a bed by her dominant, knocked out, and then she wakes up in the room with “the chair” meant for her punishment if she does anything wrong.


Chapter 14 Punishment



I felt cold.

What time was it?

Where was I?


I felt tired.  It was a struggle to force my eyes open.


I was still bare.  Nothing covering me.

The floor.

The floor was freezing. It was tile.

My wrists.

My wrists were sore.  They were still bound.

But I was somewhere different now.


On my knees I was strapped to the floor, the cold, cold floor.  Each of my hands were bound to the ground on my left and right side.  I was like a dog. Around my waist was another strap.  It was keeping me in this position.

Where was I?

I looked up and around.  My body couldn’t drop with the strap holding me from the ceiling.  I saw a tap. And a long shower head. Black and red tile.  I was in a shower. I turned my head to the left side.  A mirror.  I. The mirror; a sad the reflection of my naked body, harnessed and the reflection of another mirror and sink.

The Chair.

My heart stopped.

I remembered what Miles had once told me.  I would be knocked out and brought in here. I wanted to hyperventilate.  My heart was beating fast.


No one was here.

What did I do wrong? I thought I behaved enough that I didn’t need to be here.  I heard the door open and shut and the click of a lock.

Who was here.

“You are being such a bad slave.”

It was Mr. wells.

“You were doing so well up until last night.  But then you had to act UNGRATEFUL!” He yelled the last part. It echoed in the small room.  He was taking off all of his clothes.

“I was just scared,” I said tears welling up in my eyes.  What was he going to do to me? He picked something up.  I heard him walk over he was behind me now.  With one blow I felt the burn of something hit my butt.  It was hard and plastic.

“And then all the work I spent On putting your hair up nicely.  You had to let out all the curls, and then you played with it at the dinner table. It was so nice until you took it down.  And now it turned into a mess while I had sex with you.”

He sounded irritated.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” I sobbed.

He came beside me and I felt a brush in my hair.  That must have been what he hit me with.  He started pulling the brush forcefully through my hair.  There were knots, but he didn’t think to be gentle at all.  He continued pulling it through my hair. Pulling my head back every time there was a pile of knots.

“And now it’s all knotted because you didn’t let me fix your hair.  This is your fault that it is knotty. If you just left it alone, all would be fine,” he said.  I was crying he was pulling on my hair so much.

He continued brushing through my hair finally he stopped and he had stood up again. My body felt like it was in shock.

He turned the water on.  It wasn’t hitting me yet.  The water sounded as if it was a powerful jet though.  I was right when the water was aimed at me.  He attacked my back first.  The jet hurt.  The water felt warm but the jet was powerful.

“That hurts,” I cried.

“Shut up,”

I continued to cry.  He began to aim the jet of water at my hair.  Forcefully he washed it.  I heard the snap of a shampoo bottle and heard the mixture between his hands rub together and then his hands plunged into my hair.  This was such an uncomfortable position to be in, especially for my hair being washed.  His nails dug into my scalp.  He wasn’t being gentle and his hands weren’t melodic at all.


The strong jet of water started again and pelted my head.  As it washed out it tricked into my eyes.  Shampoo in the eyes hurt but there was nothing I could do but try and squint it out.  The water stopped again and conditioner was put in my hair.  He wasn’t kind pulling his fingers through the knots with his hands.  Very soon the water was hitting me once more and the conditioner was gone.

The showers head fell to the ground and hung by the wall.  I was wet and now cold.  Mr. Wells started to fiddle with the straps on my arms and my knees.  I could barely move the position I had been in was so uncomfortable.

A towel was dropped on me and roughly my body was dried.  Roughly he began drying my hair with the towel and then threw the towel to the ground.  “Get up and sit in the chair,” Mr. Wells spoke.

He was a lot scarier than when Miles had me in the chair.  I crawled to the side of the wall where the towel had been thrown and just looked at him with pleading eyes. I pulled the wet towel covering my naked body.

“I SAID GET IN THE CHAIR,” he yelled.

I closed my eyes tightly.  Did he really mean it?

I didn’t want to move my body.  I wanted it to stay right where it was.  But my punishment was going to be much more severe if I didn’t move.  I crawled onto my knees and used the side of the shower wall for support, I covered my body with the towel. My legs shakily moved, step by shaky step towards the chair.  I folded the towel around me.  But as I did so, Mr. Wells took the towel away from he as hard as he could.  He grabbed my wrist and squeezed it tight.  I sobbed.  It hurt so much.

He pulled me into the chair and straddled me and locked me into place using the cuffs attached to chair.  “I’m sorry,” I pleaded.  “I won’t fiddle with my hair anymore when you do it up so pretty.”

“You got that right,” he said.  “Because there won’t be much hair to play with after I’m done with you.”  His eyes were scary.  He really was serious.  Giant tears filled my eyes.  He had moved behind me now.  I could only see forward.  The brace around me meant I couldn’t move my head around.  I felt a brush attack my hair with force.  He pulled at my hair, taking all the knots out.

“Can you please be a little – “I had to stop mid sentence because he turned the chair around quickly and the flat headed brush that had been pulling through my hair hit me hard on both sides of my cheeks.  He taped my mouth shut.

“Whine, whine, whine, that’s all you do is complain.  I have been grateful to you, yet you still want something to change.  It’s not your choice, so just stop your crying little face before I decide to shave off all your hair,” he said loudly.

I closed my eyes, maybe this would all go away. The chair turned around once more as he began brushing my hair with the same lack of care he had been giving before.  After it was done, I heard him fumble around and then I heard the sound of a hair dryer.  Using the brush, he continued to use it as he dried my hair.  Maybe he wasn’t going to do anything.  He set the supplies down.

“Now, lets get rid of the bulk of your hair,” he said lowly.  I heard more fidgeting, he must have been gathering scissors.  My hair was then plopped up on top of my head except for the lower section which was left down.  He took the lower section and began to braid it tightly.  All I wanted to do was scream.  It hurt.  More fiddling and two pony tails were placed, one at the top of the braid, and another at the bottom.  I heard the fidgeting of scissors and then I felt the metal press against my neck as it sawed through the top of the braid above the pony tail.  It dropped on my bare lap.  I could only glance at it from where I could move.  I kept my eyes shut.  It would be over soon.  I heard the click of the razor.  It was on, and it mowed down whatever hair was not pinned up top.  It was becoming an undercut.

“What should I do next Karen?” he asked.  “Ha, oh right,” he scoffed.  “You can’t talk, and you don’t get a say in what I do,” he said and the hair that was pinned up top was let down.  He grabbed a chunk of hair and snipped it off. Just like that, a section was gone.  Then a second chunk of hair was chosen.  Snip, snip, snip went the scissors as all the hair was placed on my lap.  All the hair that I had grown, just gone.

Please just stop, was all I could think of. My hair was left un-neat and short.

“Oops,” Mr. Wells said.  “It looks like I got a little scissor happy. There is know way I can make this look remotely good, even if I did try to even it out.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.  He turned the chair around to face the mirror of the vanity.  I saw the mess he had left me in.  I heard the clip of the clippers again.

“I guess we will just have to shave it all off,” he said with a slightly pouty face.  “If only you would have listened, this wouldn’t have happened,” he said.  The clippers attacked my right side, just around my ears.  He didn’t even have a guard on.  All I could see behind the clippers was stubble.  He continued to make passes.  Left side, then right.  All the way to the top of my head, down the middle.  All that was left was just stubble.  The tears rolled from my eyes.

He began to unstrap my straps.  I felt limp, helpless, I was in complete shock.  He brushed the hair off my body, leaving the braid on the side and he picked me up and sat me in the shower.  I felt the water run down my bare head.  He straddled me on the floor as he began to have sex with me once more.

This was an absolute nightmare.

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