Hair Fetish story

by HB

I found this story on the web. I know Joan has short hair but it's still exciting, don't you think.


As it turns out Joan has been a neighbor of mine since I was 13. For the last 4 years I have fantasised

and been obsessed with with that sexy blond. The fact that she is a fasmous star makes my fantasies even more exciting.

Since I can renember I have had a very intense Hair Fetish, and since I met Joan I have been in love with her sexy,

silky blond hair. I often fantasise about doing Joans hair. I have always looked for a way to get her to let me wash, dry,

curl and style that amazing head of hair. I often get up early in the morning to watch her leave for work so I can see what

style she is wearing that day. One day I was downtown running an errand for my mom when I saw Joan comming out of a hotel

and kissing a strange man. I alwauys thought she was happily married. I went home that night, not saying what I saw to

anybody and formulated a plan. For the next couple months I followed Joan as she met this man. I took pictures of them

being very passionate. Finally it was time to hatch my plan. My heart was pounding as I knocked on her door. What would I

do if she didn't give in to me. Was I prepared to ruin her marriage and career. As I was thinking about this she opened the

door. She looked amazing in a tight yellow dress and her hair which she had recently cut looking as amazing as ever. She

asked what I wanted, I told her I needed to show her something. We went over to the kitchen table and sat down. I could still

back out of this I thought, but sitting there staring at that silky blond hair convinced me I had to go through with it.

I handed her the envelope, she opened it and looked at all the pictures.She slowly looked up at me and asked me what

I wanted. When I hesitated she said she would pay me to keep quiet. I told her I didn't want money. I told her I was in

love with her hair and wanted to own it,to be able to do anything I wanted with it. She stared at me and started to cry,

but I was prepared for that. I told her as long as she was my hair slave I wouldn't show the pictures to anyone. I don't

think she still quite understood so I came up behind her as she was sitting at the kitchen table and started to play with

her hAIR. It was softer than I ever could imagine. To express my point I gatherd up her bangs and twisted them around my

index finger tight. I pulled her up from the chair and led her up the stairs to the bathroom. She started to protest but

I reminded her of the pictures and to emhasise the point I pulled harder on those long blond bangs. I pulled her into the

bathroom where her hair slave training would begin.


TO BE CONTINUED