Cathairsis (Part 7) by Fantasy Weaver

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Continued from part six.

Part seven of "Cathairsis: A Photographic Anthology". Please read the previous parts for context.

-Fantasy Weaver.


Note

1: Foul language ahead

2: Adult content ahead


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Cathairsis: A Photographic Anthology

xox

Picture 2 - Humility for your Master - Part 2

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Iced latte slid down his throat in a heavenly thirst-quenching stream. The mini-fridge was chock full of the stuff, no doubt a favorite of Rah’s if the quantity said anything. That, and iced tea. Aden had taken the time while he was up here to use the bathroom and open his laptop too, deciding he would do some editing on Lucas’ photos while he waited.

That’s funny, isn’t it? He’s escaped the den, but here he is now, sitting with its essence and likeness in digital format. He could go through some other projects; group photos, personal night photography, a recent family portrait, but he felt that even just opening those files up while inside Cathairsis would somehow taint them. Like the risqué nature of this place granted it some level of sentience, and that it would wrap its dirty little fingers around each of his projects and turn them into something vulgar.

Part of him wondered if that’s what being here was doing to him. It was hard to shake off the sentiment, at least. Though Rah promised him his control does not extend to him, it was difficult to ignore the undeniable command the barber held over the room.

Again, he was greeted with Lucas’ face, and again he wondered why he even bothered to do this.

Taming his face into a neutral mask, he got to work with the photos, ears picking up on quiet conversation and laughter from downstairs. What could Rah be doing to Keiji right now? The addition of rope suggested bondage, but what kind? Rah hadn’t even mentioned anything about Keiji’s hair yet, and he knew what was going to happen when he did.

Well, he did say they were going to try something new, so Keiji couldn’t be totally ignorant of what was to come.

As he played with the contrast on one of Lucas’ pictures, his mind wandered. What made Lucas, Keiji, and all the others, come to Rah? The man gave him a brief descriptor when it came to each of his submissives, but any details about how each of them came into his "care" were scarce.

Yesterday’s client came to mind. Rah’s interactions with the man in his chair had clearly been of the illicit kind. The patron himself had been…enjoying himself, for a lack of a better, safer word. Rah hadn’t been dominating the man like he did with his boys, but nothing about the few minutes Aden had been witness to was innocent.

Then there was the matter of that notice on the entrance door. No clients under the age of eighteen. If Rah let his clients pleasure themselves in his shop out in broad daylight, then it was no wonder the note was plastered to the front door. Rah wouldn’t want a minor walking in on such a display, Aden was certain of that. But apart from the notice, and maybe the logo, if he was being nitpicky, nothing about the shop alluded to its more taboo aspects.

Unless…

Aden recalled having briefly scanned the Cathairsis website, back when Rah had first messaged him about his project, but to say he had done a thorough examination would be a gross understatement.

Forgetting about editing, he quickly tapped in the website into his laptop’s search engine. He was greeted with the same page he had first been presented with all those weeks ago. Black background and banner with gold trim and the name and logo front and center, with black and white pictures of what he now recognized as Rah’s hands holding and cutting hair, handling brushes, using his tools. A brief homepage talking about the shop and its service quality. Tabs at the top labelled: "About", "Contact Us", "Shop", "Services" and "Reservation".

Nothing jumped out at him at first. Nothing in the "About" page gave anything away, apart from specifying that the shop serves an adult clientele. Similarly, the two following tabs were just as tame. The "Services" tab however...this one proved to be a little different.

Shampoo 20$
Haircut + Shampoo 45$
Hair treatment 50$
Shave 30$
Haircut + Shampoo + Shave 70$
Line-up 25$
Color Starting at 50$
Bleach Starting at 60$
Perm Starting at 70$
Specialty Add-on Please Contact for more info
Specialty Service Please Contact for more Info

Though most of the barbering and hairstyling services were exactly what Aden was expecting, the last two were not like the others. What did "Specialty Service" mean here? No price, no description, just an ominous demand to call the shop for any further information on the matter.

The last tab, "Reservations", directed the photographer to a page with two options, the first of which held no interest for him, being a redirect to an online reservation form, however the second option held an intriguing description which made Aden’s eyes widen:

Cathairsis provides its patrons with Specialty Services and add-ons to existing services to give each client a pleasurable experience they will not soon forget. For these Special services, please contact the owner directly using the provided phone number or email address bellow. We will happily service you.

Now if you asked him, giving a client a "pleasurable experience" sounded a little too specific. Why not say a "pleasant" experience, or a "customizable" experience, if say, these services were tailored for each patron’s desires? No. Pleasurable. Not only that, but a quick look at those reservation forms on the first link showed that these "Specialty Services" were nowhere to be found, unable to be added to a haircut or shave or any other option. No, one had to call or email Rah to ask about them.

Nothing else on the website caught his attention. But what did had Aden agitatedly carding his fingers through his hair. He sat back heavily, irises flicking uneasily to the door leading down into the den.

Alright, what if - and Aden couldn’t believe he was letting himself ponder over this - Rah’s boys had once all been patrons of his shop? Not submissives, but paying clients. Was that how he had collected an assortment of men with a penchant for hot haircuts? Were these "Specialty Services" somehow linked to this?

A screening perhaps? For potential sexual mates? Or was he reading too much into this?

Or, and this could perhaps explain the lack of a budget for the project, was this the equivalent to a happy ending? Pay extra and get Rah’s special treatment? Whatever that could be?

A low groan emitted from his throat as Aden rubbed his face, chocolate waves dragging into his eyes. He huffed, the strands flying back into place. Why was he even pursuing this? He hates knowing what people do in their spare time, what their life outside of their photography projects are like. What Rah did when Aden didn’t have a camera in his face was his business, and the same went for all of his boy toys.

So why?

Why was he so hellbent on knowing more?

You f***ing know why, his mind taunted him.

Maybe…

Maybe because Rah had so clearly read him, when they first met. Maybe because Aden still hadn’t found a time or way to explain why he had taken all those pictures of him, how accidental they were, even if the other thought something else of the incident.

He checked his phone. Thirty minutes had already passed. He should portably head back downstairs.

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What met Aden’s eyes when he finally got back to the den was…

"Perfect timing, I’m just about finished with Keiji."

There Rah stood, kneeling at his boy’s right leg, hands busy tying a silver rope around his thigh. The rest of Keiji’s body, or at least part of it, had already been bound.

And it was… F***, it was amazing.

Aden couldn’t move from where he stood, honeyed eyes trained to the sight before him without conscious consent. For some reason, the photographer was certain that he would arrive back in the den to Keiji tied into the barber chair with those ropes, but nothing of the kind had happened. No, instead, Rah’s submissive looked almost drunk, or like he had just woken from a deep slumber, eyes heavy-lidded, chest rising deeply, slowly, ribs encased, imprisoned behind a web of silver and deep purple ropes.

A web - that’s what it looked like, but the ties were asymmetrical. The binding started from Keiji’s left hand, straight lines and knots splitting and connecting again along his arm, up to his shoulder. The cord dug into his skin, his neck, his back, the web-like patterns creating a shattered-glass look wherever they were, left pectoral framed both delicately and roughly. The ropes continued along his abdomen and right leg-

They framed Keiji’s crotch. Hidden behind black cotton, his dick strained against his underwear.

"That should do it," Rah declared, hands stroking his sub’s leg tenderly. Brown irises found his boy’s flushing face. "Nothing’s too tight? It’s not pulling anywhere?"

Aden blinked, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the sight, barely registering Keiji’s voice answering his Master’s questions.

It was beautiful. How? How could rope look beautiful on someone? And more importantly, how could such beauty come from Rah’s hands? The same hands that had gripped Lucas, slapped him, pushed him into the counter, destroyed his hair?

‘Wait, no, Christ,’ Aden though dazedly. It did make sense. Even though Rah’s hands were capable of hurting and destroying, they had also shown they could create and beautify. Lucas had looked so damn good by the end of last session; if the barber could do that, then making this rope-web on Keiji had to be just as plausible. It made it no easier to digest though.

Or easier to look at.

Aden’s back was clammy when he found his place on the stool again, his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his skin. He could not allow himself to react like this to Rah’s actions and the sights in the den; a repeat of last session was not on his list of priorities. Leaning forward, he fidgeted with the settings on his Nikon again.

What was the use? It took but two seconds for his eyes to focus back on the two men in the den.

Rah stood up, hands grazing over the path those ropes made on his submissive’s body, causing Keiji to shiver. The barber’s dark eyes ate up the sight, roved over his handiwork reverently. Smiling softly, his right hand ghosted along Keiji’s neck, brushing his collar gently.

Tilting his head, he asked, "If I took this collar off right now, would you be free, boy?"

Aden saw Keiji’s eyes go blank, eyebrows furrowing. His features cleared as his Master’s words registered. "No."

"No? Why do you say that?" Rah brushed the boy’s bangs aside, yet Keiji kept his gaze to the ground.

That’s an easy answer, even Aden knew it. The rope harness; it acted like a surrogate to the collar around the other’s neck. Rah’s will extended beyond a simple collar. It permeated every tool or toy he touched. And, perhaps, Rah was asking this of Keiji because he was planning on taking the collar off. Its red hue only clashed with the ropes wound around his boy’s body, and if only from an artistic point of view, Aden didn’t think leaving it would make for good pictures.

"I…" Keiji hesitated, "I serve my Danna-Sama. Not the collar."

"Yes," Rah agreed, voice soft, lulling, and his body moved just as slowly around his sub, face rubbing gently against’ Keiji’s as he slid behind him, hands dragging against exposed skin and cord. "You serve me. Does removing this harness grant you freedom?"

"No." A breathless answer.

No? Aden’s own answer would have been wrong then?

"If I gave you your clothes back, would that grant you freedom?"

"No."

"What then?" Rah whispered, so quietly the photographer almost didn’t catch it.

"Your- kuso…" Rah’s right hand ventured down to tease his boy’s underwear, left hand following one rope close to a pert nipple. Swallowing, Keiji tried again, "Your word, Danna-Sama."

His…

His word?

Rah grinned against Keiji’s ear. "Ī ko."
The young man shivered deeply, voice coming out in a breathless laugh. What did Rah say? Clearly Keiji had taught his Master a few choice words of Japanese to enhance his experience.

Honey-colored irises flicked down to Rah’s tattooed hand on the other’s briefs.

Long fingers lifted the waistband. Disappeared inside.

A bead of sweat rolled down Aden’s throat. He swallowed thickly.

Rah smiled widely, teeth glinting in the lights, lips brushing his boy’s ear as he spoke, "You would do just about anything I wanted, if I told you to do it, wouldn’t you, boy?"

"Hai!"

Low laughter emanated from Rah’s grinning mouth. "If I told you to sit on the floor, you would stay there until I told you to get up?"

"Yes, yes." Keiji was shaking.

The barber slid a long leg between his sub’s own. "If I told you to grind down on my leg with that tight ass, how long would you do it?"

Aden was sweating about as much as Keiji. "Unt-t-til Danna-Sama told me to stop!"

Rah flicked his boy’s nipple, other hand rubbing beneath his briefs just a tad faster. "How long would you let me slap your balls if I started right now?"

"Dame- Kuso! As long as Danna-Sama wants!"

"Even if you’re screaming in pain for me to stop?"

"Hai!"

Aden had to stop looking. Why had he come back down? He should have stayed upstairs until Rah came to get him. This isn’t right. This is so incredibly wrong-

"And if I told you to sit and let your Master cut your hair until he thinks you look beautiful, what would you have to say?"

"I-"

Keiji stopped. So did Rah. His hands paused in their sensory torture, allowed his poor submissive to regroup his thoughts. Aden too, needed it.

His eyes met with Rah’s from across the room.

Both men seemed to realize at the same time where their gazes had ventured to, and surprisingly, Rah did exactly like Aden: he tore his irises away from the sudden eye-contact.

At last, Keiji swallowed, eyes closing tightly, "I would say I am not that beautiful, anyway…"

A moment of silence punctured the air. Rah’s hand removed itself from Keiji’s underwear, and his left hand made for his boy to turn his head towards him, brown eyes stabbing him with a chiding gaze. "Your humility is wonderful boy, but I don’t think that’s what I asked you."

You could hear a pin drop in the den. The photographer squeezed his hands together, thumbs worrying themselves as he awaited Keiji’s response, and after another few seconds of unbearable silence, it came: "I…ah…" Keiji closed his eyes again, muttering under his breath, "Sanpatsu o onegaishimasu…sanpatsu, sanpatsu- sanpatsu? Ah! Haircut!" His eyes flew open. "I would let Danna-Sama give me a haircut."

Rah seemed amused by his sub’s antics, his sinister smirk breaking a little with every word. It had to be hard to maintain face like that throughout these sessions. "Oh really, Keiji-Kun?" he challenged, "even if I did something completely different?"

A little hesitation came from Keiji this time. Aden already knew what Rah had planned for his boy, having been told of that tidbit of information yesterday. But as he watched the two men interact, Aden, whether he wanted to or not, was starting to put the puzzle pieces together. Why was Keiji suddenly hesitant? Rah had said before that the young man is used to his current hairstyle. Now, the barber’s proposing to change that, do "something completely different."

‘Stop getting yourself involved. He has his reasons, you’re just here to take pictures.’ That’s what he kept telling himself, but…

There was no way he was ever going to stay impartial in this.

"I’m not certain," Keiji replied, after much rumination, "I need to look good for-"

"I know, Keiji," Rah reassured him, hand petting his abdomen, following the lines of the rope harness. "You want to look good for the agencies. I understand that. But I think you could look more than good. You want to capture people’s attention?" Keiji nodded, biting his lower lip. His Master came back around to his front and held his jaw in both hands, stared deeply into his eyes. "Then you need to look stunning."

"What is ‘stunning’, Danna-Sama?"

Rah smiled and tenderly stroked his sub’s face, thumb rubbing his boy’s lips until Keiji sighed contentedly. "Well, when someone is stunning, they’re very attractive, or they draw people’s attention. And you, my dear boy, need to shock the modelling agencies with something tape-à-l’oeil if you want to get a gig." Rah let go of Keiji’s face, taking a few steps back to give his boy a once-over. "And I have just the thing to do that, if you trust me."

Aden’s spine went rigid. There it was again! Was Rah deliberately doing this to f*** with him? Was he asking Keiji to trust him because of how last session had ended? Whatever the reason, Aden gripped his fingers tightly and ground his teeth unhappily.

As if to mock him further, Keiji answered, with his head bowed low, "I trust you, Danna-Sama."

Rah flicked his eyes to the left, watching Aden from his periphery. "Even if you’re scared or nervous, you would let me have full control of your hair?"

Aden wasn’t even looking at him, Rah realized. His head was turned the other way, chocolate waves hanging loosely into his face from where they fell from the messy half-bun.

"Yes. Danna-Sama, my hair is in your hands. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu." Rah’s focus flicked back to his submissive, where he was bowing deeply with his hands clasped in front of himself.

"What does that mean, Keiji-Kun?" Rah decided to not antagonize Aden by asking him if he was alright. He needed to give Keiji his full attention now.

"Ah, eto…P-please take care of me?"

Aden’s head twitched in the direction of the young man bending before his Master, mind engulfed in turmoil. Of all things to ask of Rah, this is what Keiji chooses to express?

A look to the barber showed him to be equally impressed with the request, but in that amused and endearing way one might look at a cat begging for a bowl of cream. Still, "You’re in good hands, boy. You know your safewords?"

"Hai."

"Good boy. In the chair then."

That was Aden’s cue if he had ever heard it. Schooling his features, the photographer straightened as Rah accompanied Keiji over to the barbering station, where, now that he’s given it more than a passing glance, Aden could see that the barber had prepared what he would need for today. Capes, towels, and, interestingly, bowls and brushes. There were some long, slim boxes too, a digital scale, some white bottles, and a jar of blue powder.

What would Keiji think of his new look, Aden wondered as the men arrived beside the chair.

Giving the foot pedal a push with his polished red shoe, Rah made the chair turn towards his sub, beckoning him forward with a gesture of his hand. When the young man had sat himself in the leather seat - without so much as a scowl for the cuffs that called it home - Rah turned the chair to face Aden directly, not bothering with the mirror this time. Both Master and submissive looked forward.

"Look at the camera, boy," the barber said as he toyed with Keiji’s fringe, carding his fingers through it as his brown eyes held Aden’s gaze. "Do I need to move him, Aden?"

Honeyed irises checked the viewfinder, making some adjustments to the focus. Now was the time for him to do his job. Just like Rah said. He didn’t exactly like that the man’s words had shaken him so much, but the truth is, this is what he’s been hired to do. And so, "The lighting’s not right." It wasn’t, he realized. It was much darker than last time, yet his setup had stayed put since then. He even made sure to use the same settings on his camera. What gives?

"Oh? Wait-" The photographer observed as Rah went to the side of his barbering station, and it was just as he bent behind it that Aden noticed what was different; with a flick, the lights surrounding the mirror came on. "Forgot to turn these on. How’s that?"

He checked again, finding the problem solved. "Everything’s set." He readjusted himself on the stool, hands holding his Nikon lightly. Glancing over his equipment at the two men as Rah returned behind the chair, he declared, "Whenever you’re ready."

"Wonderful…" Rah’s hands were back in Keiji’s hair, and as though to see if Aden truly was ready, he combed his fingers through his boy’s dark fringe and held it up.

A snort nearly passed through Aden’s lips, but he swallowed the sound before it could escape, and pressed the trigger, the shutter closing at his command. He took the first of many pictures.

With that understanding passing between them, Rah focused on the task at hand. "What do you like about your current cut, boy?"

Keiji blinked, tapped his fingers on the leather armrests. "It is…soft?"

"And?"

"It looks good?"

Rah, unseen by Keiji, bobbed his head to either side, thinking. "I suppose it does the job. Easy. Simple. Common."

Aden didn’t like the way he said that last word.

Keiji too must have heard the note of disdain in the uttered affirmation, as his shoulders tensed ever so slightly under his Master’s scrutiny, and even further when Rah removed his red rope collar. "Is…is that bad, Danna-Sama?"

"Well," Rah stepped around the chair, deposited his boy’s collar, and reached for the white cape atop the counter, looking pensive, "If that hairstyle was on anyone else, it would be more than acceptable. It’s light and easy to style and even when it grows out, it looks good for a long time between cuts. But-"

The barber turned around, and in one fluid motion, unfolded the cape and wrapped it around his boy’s throat. Pressing the trigger on his camera, the photographer captured the movement, watched as Keiji’s eyes closed in bliss.

Rah bent forward as he snapped the cape closed, black hair falling from his shoulder like a midnight waterfall. He spoke directly into his submissive’s ears, but his eyes stayed glue to the camera lens, heavy-lidded and shining with intent, "I think you’re long overdue for something different."

Keiji began to bow his head, but a gentle tug from his Master’s hand in his hair stopped him from dipping his features away from the lens. No words were said during the tense exchange, but Keiji’s sigh, and his subsequent surrender to the pull on his scalp, must have been enough for Rah, for he just gave an approving hum.

There was something different this time, Aden mused, and not just in the way Rah treated his submissive. It was clear from the start that Keiji was not like Lucas, and his Master treating him differently could only be natural. Rah didn’t hurt his boy, nor did he make his strip completely… Beyond that though, Aden realized something. It was as Keiji sat, as Rah caped him up, that it became apparent; a detail that, in this context, should have been obvious to him from the start.

Rah didn’t strap Keiji into the chair.

The young man was tied up, sure, but his Master had left him with full use of his limbs, and it didn’t look like Rah had any intention of securing Keiji into the leather cuffs. Wouldn’t all of that leave Keiji with an escape?

No. It wouldn’t. Rah had made sure of that. He had asked for his boy’s trust. He had tested him, asked him what he would do in the event of a haircut, of being given a new style, without knowing what it was. Rah asked what would grant his submissive freedom and Keiji said that only his Master’s word could.

Rah says "Get in the chair", and Keiji obeys. End of story. No squirming, no complaining, and no need for restraints.

Aden stared at Rah as he opened a drawer in the barbering station.

How thrilling must it be for Rah to have someone wrapped around his little finger like that?

With a clatter, Aden’s thoughts skidded to a halt, and his honeyed irises took in Rah’s form by the counter, where he slipped a bottle of clipper oil into his right hand. His left hand reached for the innumerable hooks on the side of the furniture, taking a burgundy-colored clipper off it’s resting peg.

Briefly, the photographer turned his attention to the young man in the chair, watched his features turn from passive to nervous. It would be cruel to take pictures now but, he wouldn’t have Rah complaining about his inaction during what can only be a moment of "surrender". Quietly, he took a few shots, and awaited the dreaded moment Rah would turn those clippers on.

After applying oil to the blades and wiping them clean with a towel, Rah affixed a guard on his tool. He took a comb and, turning around slowly, let the machine of mass-hair-destruction dangle from its’ loop on his right index finger, cord trailing behind him.

Eyes positively smoldering, he smirked, asking, "You know what this is, don’t you, Keiji-Kun?"

The camera trigger was the only sound to break the silence. Then, the barber’s sub emitted a tense laugh. "Y-yes. I know, Danna-Sama."

"Do you know what I’m going to do with this?"

The light white cape could not hide the small bulge that appeared in Keiji’s lap, and Rah watched it growing with hungry eyes. The man walked around the chair, stopping behind it, the clipper hanging limp from his digit. "I-I don’t know, Danna-Sama…"

"You don’t know?" The barber bent toward his boy’s ear, "Or are you too afraid to think about it?"

More nervous laughter, and if it wasn’t for Rah standing right behind the chair, Aden was sure Keiji would have curled into a ball to squirm himself away from this situation. Without his Master’s word though, his body was bound to the chair, limbs pressed into the leather through Rah’s sheer willpower alone.

"Kowaidesu- ah, scared? I’m not certain…if this is…"

Keiji’s indecisiveness and uncertain fear had his Master’s eyes softening. Rah flipped the clipper into his hand, gripped it firmly. "Keiji, look into the camera."

The fingers on Rah’s left hand tenderly lifted his sub’s features to Aden’s Nikon, stayed there as the young man in the chair took a deep breath.

Softly, Rah continued, "For someone who wants to model, you have some trouble keeping your eyes forward. When you are with me, I ask that you look down and be humble. But for the camera now, for the modelling agencies? Don’t be. Show your beauty. And as for me…"

Rah flicked the lever on his clipper, and it purred to life, startling Aden so much that he hit the trigger three times, capturing blurry images.

Rah smiled and straightened himself. "I think I’m going to make sure everyone can see your beautiful face, Keiji-Kun."

Without leaving time for Keiji to interject, and barely enough time for Aden to ready himself mentally, Rah plunged the humming clippers right down the middle of his boy’s head.

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Continued in part eight.

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