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David Maxwell's Braid and Bun- Part 2 by paneermonst
Make sure you read part 1 to understand where we left off.
David Maxwell has woken up with a sudden jerk in the spotlight of a major light in a dark room. The light was blinding his eyes as he squinted to inspect and notice anything that might have been hiding in the dark surroundings. Although he had not noticed it yet he was blinded to a chair but the material for the rope was not very visible as his senses were disoriented from the bright light and thirst, making him think he had been stuck like this for at least 2 days.
Then I slowly walked into the room clutching a pair of scissors and a comb in my hand. As I passed the spotlight area with David Maxwell sitting in the chair, I immediately started to feel my juices flowing as my hair fetish was about to become a reality.
As soon as David had seen and recognized me as the barber who he told to cut his braid off he said, " HEY YOU MAN. I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO WAKE ME UP WHEN MY HAIR WAS SHORT! WHERE AM I YOU F#$%&*&g PIG. LET ME GO HOME!". I had not expected him to be so feisty and rowdy, but I guess that is what interested me even more in him. I simply smiled and held my fingers to his lips, and silently told him to be quiet. As he listed to his instructions he had looked around himself, now in a conscious state. He was bound to the chair with his own hair!
I said, "David, your hair is so incredibly loud and delicate that I had no choice but to remove it from the confines of the tight braid I had left you before I wanted to cut the braid. I want you and your hair to live. At Least a little longer".
David Maxwell tried to fidget his way through the thick masses of chestnut tresses, but I secured that the hair wrapped each limb in his body, without even needing to use hair extensions or extra rope. Every Time he moved his leg to escape, the chestnut locks would tighten up at another spot, making his escape impossible without a pair of scissors. But I knew that wouldn’t happen. Within 5 minutes he had succumbed to the realization that I would not let him leave with his hair cut. However he was not sure whether I wanted him to keep his chestnut tresses forever or if I wanted to cut it myself.
With a smile on my face I went to the back of his chair and glanced upon the mess of chestnut tresses that had captured my hairy victim. I wanted to play and touch his hair more. I quickly sprinted to the other side of the room where I kept a long rope just in case David had somehow managed to free himself from the bonds of his hair, and then ran back behind, smiling again. I did not want him to try and escape while I was freeing his hair, so I reached into my back pocket and implanted a small dose of tranquilizer into his neck, which immediately started to take effect on him. His aggressive grunts and looks began to slow down, until he lay limp in his chair again. Making sure that he was asleep for approximately an hour, I removed each lock of hair that covered his legs, arms, and chests and substituted with the fine coils of the white braid I had gotten from my parent’s warehouse.
David’s long locks dangelled even lower than what they had at the barber shop and started to thin a little at the ends, clearly being dried of their usual hydration and oils. I had to be sure his hair was healthy! I went back upstairs to the regular hideout of the barbershop and grabbed a pair of silver shears and a large container of natural oils and scurried back down the stairs to where David was sleeping. Relishing every moment I had while he was asleep, I slowly massaged the oils into his locks by beginning at the very end of his hair- 3 feet on the floor- and worked my way to his scalp which had the most thick hair follicles I had seen, each being at least 2 millimeters thick. It was rare to see women with such thick hair, but seeing a man with these cascading tresses was like seeing a Roman God come to life.
With his hair being massaged again with the oils and regaining its luscious chestnut glow, I decided to redo some of the hairstyles I had tried at the barber shop to see if my pictures would turn out better than before. I started with the braid, which took less than 4 minutes to make as I perfected the skill of separating his thick hair and wrapping it around at the end with a fine number of elastics. I was not satisfied yet. I caressed the braid from its base at his nape to the end-2 feet on the floor- and hoped that he would keep his Rapunzel mane for me to enjoy even more. With a strong gut sensation and feeling I ripped the town of elastics from the end of his braid and watched as the chestnut braid unwined all on its own until I had dragged my fingers through it and separated the three strands back to their length of 9 feet.
The next hairstyle I tried was curly hair, which I did so by using a curler and straighter to blow artificial curls into the hair, similar to ringlets on the mane of a lion. The hair started to pick up more volume until it was almost an afro and only reached his ankles, duo to the curly structure. This was a fresh hairstyle! I grabbed the back of his neck and crown of his head and twirled my fingers around the chestnut locks and felt the warmth enter my palm, which radiated from David's skull. In this hairstyle he looked like George Washington with his wig, except here his hair was all natural and beautifully covered his forehead in a layer of bangs, that formed without the need of anything being cut.
I only had 15 minutes until he worked up. With much aptitude and scurry I reached for the straight hair and began working down his hair in small sections until his hair returned to the 3 feet past the floor length- ready for the last hairstyle- the bun.
Just like him I loved it when men put their hair in buns and when I put David’s into a luxurious knot on top of his head, it had sagged a little despite the unlimited number of hair clips and elastics I had put in it to secure it. Within the few days he had been secured in the basement, his hair grew another foot, which explained why it was substantially harder to grab the strengthened hair into one mass and wrap it around the focal point of my hand. It was simply too long, but not too long for me.
David Maxwell once again woke up from his "nap" and saw that he was now tied with the ropes instead of his hair, which was stacked on top of his head, and had become slightly saggy compared to when he was in the barbershop. He said, "Please man...Just let me go to my wife and kids… I know you are sad just like me to see the long hair go… But I have to do it for them".
I asked him in a soft tone, "Why? Why do you have to listen to his family and cut his locks. Did they not care about his happiness?".
Instead of answering quickly and refined like he did in the barbershop, he answered with a lot less confidence, "My wife is just envious of my name because it is much thicker and luminous than her." Tears started to form near his eyes. "She said that she would leave me and my kids if I did not follow the family protocols and get a haircut". The tears flowed down his face, "I don’t have a steady job and my own source of income so I need my wife’s. But they don’t understand how much I love my hair. I’ve been growing it ever since my teens, and cutting it for such a simple reason as envy is just childish". His pain had become evident. He did not want to truly cut his braid.
I just stood there and waited until he finished. I understood how he felt. I believed that everyone should have their own defining features and couldn’t change for anyone. I had to tell him this. I had to.
With some courage, I stared into David Maxwell’s teary eyes and said, "How about you live with me then?".
PART 3 COMING SOON