Slave Girl

Slave-Girl by EddyZ.

Melissa! Every time I had my statistics class I chose a place behind her, as near as possible, to observe her wonderful auburn tresses. They flowed past her shoulders and down her back like a cascade of waves, ending at her hips. Every movement of her head caused the waves to flow, adding more lustre to the already glossy tresses. Never had I seen a girl with such a luscious mane.

How would she look without it? All this beautiful hair spread out on the floor around the chair she would be sitting in? Of course this was only fantasy, deeply tucked away. I would never tell this to anyone. I thought Melissa to be unattainable to me, myself being rather shy and devoid of the flair other boys possess to chat up a girl.

So I was caught by surprise one day, after college had ended, seeing her turn towards me, asking: “Do you like my hair?” She smiled. “Yes, I’ve noticed that you are always admiring it.”

I was so amazed that at first I couldn’t find words and then in confusion I heard myself say: “Did you ever consider short hair?”

I didn’t know why I had said that and I couldn’t believe that I had done it.

“Cut my hair? Forget it,” Melissa said and headed for her girlfriends.

I had blown it. I had got the chance to speak to this gorgeous girl, maybe could have got a date and I had spoiled everything.

So I thought. But one week later she came to me again after college: “I was intrigued about what you said last week. Could we meet somewhere?”

I must have beamed with pleasure and flushed with excitement. “Do you know the Alassio bar? Shall we meet there at five?” She agreed. We chatted about unimportant subjects but didn’t come to the point.

“It is so crowded and noisy here,” Melissa said. “Couldn’t we go anywhere else?”

“Well, what do you think of going to my place?” I didn’t consider that seriously, I assumed that she would reject this proposal, but to my surprise she accepted without any reservations.

“Feel like a glass of wine?” I asked to make her feel at ease.

“I’d love to!”

I couldn’t keep my eyes from her, that enchanting girl, sitting on my couch! A dream coming true!

She smiled. “Why don’t you sit down next to me? Place enough.”

I couldn’t believe that this was really happening. But it did! And her body language was unmistakably plain! Inviting she offered me her wonderful lips. I had only to kiss them and I did. She answered my kisses passionately and soon we were lying on the couch, cuddling and stroking each other. I even fancied to hear her whisper: “Rape me,” but I didn’t trust my ears so I didn’t. Instead I said: “We should talk about your hair.”

Melissa sat up, pulled her skirt down which had been pushed up to her groins, trying to cover her thighs but not quite succeeding to do so.

“Okay, my hair. I’ve considered your words all week. It isn’t easy for me, though probably very simple. You dislike long hair, so the conclusion is: it has to be cut. I made an appointment for tomorrow at five o’clock.”

Amazed, I didn’t know what to say. She scrutinized me and the way she looked at me hit me like a bolt from the blue. Suddenly I understood. I read in her eyes that she wanted to submit herself to me, she wanted to be dominated! She saw by the expression of my face that I had grasped it.

“Yes, it is my wish to do everything you want. Whatever it is, even sacrifice everything which is dear to me.”

“But why me?”

How could such a fabulous girl choose an inconspicuous person like me? What did she see in me?

“Because I love you. Didn’t I show it to you before?” She got tears in her eyes. “Don’t you love me?”

“Of course I do! I’ve worshipped you since the first moment I saw you.”

“You should not worship me, I want to be your slave girl. Why didn’t you approach me earlier? I’ve had my eyes on you for a long time but I had to approach you, otherwise we wouldn’t be here now. Oh…. at last you kissed me.”

“Your wish is to be my slave?”

“Yes, that is the ultimate way I can show you how much I love you. But you have to drill and instruct me. I don’t know exactly what a slave is expected to do.”

“I don’t either. I’ve never done that.”

“I know someone who can tell you everything about bondage and so on. We can go for him tomorrow after I’ve had my hair cut.”

“In which salon do you have your appointment?”

“At the Happy Hairdresser. Do you know it? I never went to a salon, my girlfriends gave me a trim every now and then. Charley has recommended it to me.”

“Charley who?”

“No, Charley Wong, you know her?”

Yes I did. When she arrived at college she was a smartly dressed Chinese girl with very long straight black hair. In the course of time her hair had progressively got shorter and shorter: mid-back, just below her shoulders, collar length, a bowlcut and at the same time it was bleached. Next a pixiecut with green and lilac stainings. Her clothing had changed too: leather miniskirts, knee-length boots, tight-fitting sweaters.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“I certainly hope so. As you’ll be my master you should decide what haircut the stylist is going to perform.”

It had gotten late and I suggested that I should escort Melissa to her home. She seemed somewhat disappointed but she agreed: “You are the master.”

The next day I went early to Melissa’s apartment which she shared with two roommates. She was alone. When I kissed her she began to cry.

“I can’t go along with this,” she sobbed. “I love my hair.”

“But you said….”

“It is not me that wants it. You do.’

I tried to comfort her and I said: “I’ll cancel your appointment.”

“No! Oh, I’m so sorry, it is so childish of me, I’m such a wimp.” She began to cry again. “You are the master so I have to obey you.”

“Listen sweetheart,” I said, “I want to cancel the affair for this moment. You are too upset. I don’t want you to get a haircut now.”

She looked up at me with her face wet with tears.

“I’m so ashamed but I’ll do what you say.”

After she had called off the appointment Melissa settled down. Nevertheless she didn’t feel good.

“This is a bad start of my commitment. I have been disobedient. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course darling. You did obey my ultimate orders.”

Justin was the boyfriend of Charley and her master. So Charley was his slave girl! And now I understood how Melissa got the idea!

While the girls chatted in the kitchen Justin showed me his tools which he had installed in a particular room. A lot of leather and latex, whips, belts, straps, chains, hand- and ankle cuffs and a St. Andrews cross!

“I have no room for all of this, I said.

“You don’t need it all. To train your slave you should tie her up and whip her. Fasten hoops to your wall for the chains and Bob’s your uncle.”

“I should beat her? But I love Melissa.”

“Slaves love to be whipped. Not in the beginning but later when they have learned not only to feel the pain but also the delight. The satisfaction to submit themselves to their masters. But you must not beat her too hard. You should prevent damaging her skin, only some welts may be caused. I’ll teach you how to do it. It is the way you handle the whip. Hardly stroke the skin or slash it to cause a welt and anything in between. I’ll call that trollop. Charley! Come here! Now! And bring that other slut!”

Suddenly Justin’s attitude had changed, from a jovial young man into a severe master, now looking like a Marines sergeant. With the same closely cropped hair. He told Charley to undress. She unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it. She was naked underneath but she was not ashamed at all.

“Bend forward,” Justin commanded. Charley obeyed and Justin hit her three times. Then he gave me the whip and instructed me how to use it. I was reluctant and initially the thong didn’t reach her skin but soon I aimed better. Melissa looked on without saying a word.

After Justin had sent the girls away he said: “To drill a slave you should regularly tie her up and whip her. You don’t need a St. Andrews cross, you can put her on a table, alternately on her back and on her belly, spreadeagled, and fasten her wrists and ankles to the legs of the table.”

“I can’t understand that she would like that.”

“Listen old boy. She asked you to become your slave, isn’t it? She knows what it means, she has seen what I do with Charley. So, don’t bother, she wants to be dominated, to submit herself. Did you sleep with her?”

“No, we became friends only a day ago.”

“Fine. Well a slave should dwell at her master’s home. So you’ll sleep with her soon. When you do this for the first time take her really rough, rape her. She wants that.”

Probably I had heard well yesterday!

“Then, take her underwear away, she shouldn’t wear anything underneath. Shave her bush as soon as possible, that makes her feel more vulnerable. It is not essential but the way she is dressed could be more provocative. Miniskirts like Charley wears.”

“I’m afraid that Melissa will feel very uneasy if she is not allowed to wear panties.”

“But that is the intention! She should feel humiliated. And that is just what she wants. Next issue: her hair. That big hair doesn’t match a slave. I’ve heard that she resisted you, she refused to cut it.”

“She had made an appointment but she began to cry and…”

“Yes, she made you weak and you gave in. Well, that shouldn’t happen any more. And she must be punished, her hair has to go.”

“All of it?”

“Yeah, shave her head. But not yet and not too soon. Let her beg for it.”

“She will never do that.”

“Oh yes, if you drill her properly she will beg you. Let me advise you the following procedure for every day. Before you go to bed tie her up, naked and whip her. Then brush her hair a fairly long time. She will get excited and you too, I’m sure, and sex will be fabulous. But for now I leave you alone with your slave. Charley and I will be away, so you may have your way with her to initiate her at my place.”

Before they left Justin had sent Melissa to me. She seemed somewhat impressed by the fitting up of the “drillroom” as Justin called it. With a meek smile she approached, knowing what was going to happen. I told her to take off her clothes. She hesitated when she stood in front of me only wearing her bra and panties, but I was inflexible. I made her take them off as well and give them to me. I told her that she was not allowed to wear them anymore. Melissa nodded. It had been the first time that I had seen her naked body and as I had expected it was perfect. Slender long legs, firm breasts pointing proudly forward, rather narrow hips but not too narrow.

I handcuffed her and attached the cuffs to a chain which I raised by means of a pulley till Melissa had to stand on tiptoe. She looked anxiously as I fetched a whip. I hesitated. Did I want to beat this lovely girl? How could I do that? I loved her! She looked at me on a curious way with those almond-shaped brown eyes: on the one hand scared but on the other with anticipating excitement. I could not make a fool of myself by standing there without moving. I raised the whip and let it come down on her butt. Melissa winced and wailed softly every time I hit her, alternately on her butt, back, thighs and belly. When red welts started to show I said: “It has been enough for the first time.”

“I’m sorry that I have disappointed you. I should restrain my emotions.”

“You are just learning to be a slave,” I consoled her.

I released her and told her to lie on the cross, spreading her arms and legs. She looked very anxiously to the clippers that I took in my right hand but I held my tongue. Then I flicked the switch on and buzzed off her thick pubic bush. I applied shaving cream on the stubble and shaved her smooth, carefully removing every trace of hair round her lips and anus. Melissa shivered when I was doing this. I told her to get to her feet and she stood there, unsteady, not knowing what to do. I took her in my arms and kissed her. Holding her naked body so near to me excited both of us violently. Soon I had got rid of my clothes too, I laid the girl down and without any warning I penetrated her by force. Melissa winced and wailed, startled. But soon she screamed with pleasure when she orgasmed just before I did. Then she cried softly. I said to her: “Well, that was your initiation but that doesn’t mean that you are my slave yet. You are an apprentice; in a convent you would be called a novice but that word doesn’t match with a future slave. Slut or slag should be more appropriate. Yes, I want you to speak about yourself as ‘your slag’.”

Every evening I tied Melissa up and whipped her. She got used to it and she did no more experience it as a punishment for things she had done wrong. She knew that afterwards I used to brush her hair which she loved so much. Those feelings made her feel guilty as a good slave should only have them when her master allowed it. Then she asked me to punish her by cutting her hair. I didn’t listen to her as I had something in mind.

Soon Melissa had to give a presentation in her design class and for a couple of weeks she had been busy with the preparations. The night before I brushed her hair. This time she made no remarks. Then I said suddenly: “Time has come for your haircut, slag.”

“When?”

“Now.”

She looked at me, startled: “It is too late, all salons are closed.”

“No salon. slut. I’m going to cut your hair.”

Now she was really very uneasy. “Oh, please, tomorrow I have to do my presentation.”

“That is okay. You are part of your presentation. You are going to present yourself with a new designed appearance. Besides you contradict me. You understand that I have to punish you for being disobedient, don’t you slut?”

Melissa bent her head meekly. “Yes, I deserve punishment.”

“As I whipped you before you have to submit yourself to the haircut I’ll give you without any comments. Is that clear?”

She nodded: “Yes, you are my master,” she said with a trembling voice.

I pondered what to do. It had been my intention to cut her hair at shoulder length but as I had announced to punish her something more drastic had to be done.

Justin had advised me to shave her. I had thought this should be the finishing touch after a series of haircuts, gradually going shorter. Why shouldn’t I do it now, in one sweep? Make a clean sweep? Melissa was clearly upset, she anticipated something dreadful.

I told her to go to the bathroom and undress. Naked and trembling she sat on a stool while I gathered her long hair into a ponytail. I tied a red ribbon at the base of it and cut it with a straight razor. Then I continued hacking off the remaining hair near to the scalp, also with the razor, till at last all of her hair had been reduced to short tufts and wisps. It didn’t look so bad at all after I had tidied out the back and sides. I grabbed my clippers and flicked on the switch. Melissa winced but didn’t say anything. She must have feared that I would buzz it all off. But I didn’t. I made the back and sides shorter, about 1/4 inch, matching them with the somewhat longer hair on top.

“You may get up now,” I said, “I’m finished.”

Melissa looked at her reflection in the mirror, got tears in her eyes but thanked me for the haircut. We showered together while I consoled my girlfriend. We got both aroused and made love furiously while my hands tossed about her shorn hair

The next morning Melissa made the wisps stand erect with gel and it looked marvellous. She seemed to be resigned to her new look and laughed: “Indeed my hairstyle has been newly designed. Everyone will be amazed.”

Soon afterwards she was promoted sophomore and the summer holidays started. Every now and then I visited Justin, taking Melissa with me and together we had drilled our slaves. Now he had invited me for a special session as he called it.

Justin tied Charley down on a chair, then clippered her hair off and shaved her bald. This took not much time and the girl was released. Melissa knew that she would be next and soon she joined her friend with the same look. It did not come as a shock to her, she had expected it to happen one day and her drill had been so effective that she accepted everything I asked her or did to her

“Now you have become real slaves,” Justin said, “You have learned to do what your masters ask from you.”

And I had learned too. Learned that Melissa wanted to be dominated and humiliated by me. She got excited by submitting herself to me. I was not excited by dominating her. I had another dream and that had come true: to cut off her luscious mane and shave this gorgeous girl bald. Why? I don’t know. Well, that is not true, it gave me sexually an enormous kick.

But I do know that we love each other and that those strange habits make our love life marvellous.

Later that night I told her: “Now that you have no more hair to brush, I’ll shave your head every night instead.”

“You are my master, “she answered, “I’ll have to obey you and accept whatever you do to me.” She smiled: “But it is no penalty to me. I like it.”

“You like being bald?” I asked, rather surprised.

“No. I mean the shaving. I like to hear and feel the scratching and scraping of the razor over my pate. It causes shivers to run all over my spine. ” She paused for a moment and continued: “Now we have both what we want most, don’t we? I’m your slave and you shave my head.”

“You forget a trifle: we love each other, don’t we?”

Melissa cuddled up at me: “Of course, that is the essential prerequisite for all of it.” She kissed me. “I love you so much.”

“You couldn’t love me more than I love you, my little bald slave!”

She didn’t ask me how long she had to stay bald. I couldn’t have answered that question anyway. I didn’t know. But the summer still was young, the holidays had just started and we were free, free to do what we liked.

“How about going to the beach tomorrow?” I asked

“Okay, my scalp can use some tanning,” she laughed.

“Yeah, but take care. Look out for sunburn.”

But then we didn’t speak for some time. I rubbed her smooth scalp and kissed it while we made love.

The end.

 

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