She had never mentioned it to him before, but his girlfriend cum fiancée started seriously criticising his hairstyle–or rather his hair’s lack of style. Until recently, whenever he wanted it cut, he went to a dull male barber who shore his locks into bristles. “I could sweep yards with your head” she started saying “I want you, nooo, neeed you to be a bit more stylish or I’ll need to think about things. I never wanted a knuckleheaded lug for a boyfriend.”

For a while, he didn’t dare cut it. In the meantime, she regularly had her hair styled, more than before in fact. And there was a strange dreaminess about her when she got back from her mammoth sessions at her salon. though her hair was lovely, did it really need 5 hours to get into that state of loveliness?

One day when he asked, she just put a card in his hand and said, “Here. You try my stylist. She does men as well you know. In fact, I´ve been showing her your photo and she´s been asking a lot about you. I even mentioned our shared love of silken sheets.”

He went a little red, then looked at the card. Embossed in an emerald green swirl were the words “Krystal´s Kavern-relaxing hair and beauty in stylishly mesmerizing surroundings”.

The small photograph of a smiling , beguiling blonde lady with emerald eyes intrigued him and tantalized him. Whilst he was used to the fumblings of the male follicular butcher who conducted regular atrocities on his cranial fur, he really did want to give this a try.

He knew his fiancée would be going to the salon the next afternoon. His plan was to show up half way through her appointment and book his–to let her know he was serious.

The salon was in a busy, but quite secluded location. There was a large sign but a small door. He imagined a short corridor lay beyond the entrance, but this was not what he saw.

The walls were covered in a pumice-like substance that seemed to have an inner incandescence. The “Corridor” was more like a cave. Authentic looking flame torches protruded from the walls with tinkling ambient music coming from within. At the end of the corridor was a soft green light. Suddenly, before him was a beaded entrance to a large looking room, the centre of this labyrinth.

He pushed the beads aside and entered what seemed to be another cavern–this time more like an amphitheatre. The rock on the walls glistened with an inner emerald light. Multifaceted and multicolored crystals hung from the ceilings. The lower parts of the walls were lined with mirrors encompassing a number of seats in front of mirrors.   As his senses and his mind sought to absorb all this, he sensed this was a salon with a big difference.

“May I help you?” said a soft but assured female voice.

She stepped in front of him, her blonde locks cascading over her well-endowed but perfectly proportioned bosoms. She wore a brilliantly shiny emerald charmeuse satin blouse opened slightly to reveal the wonderful dusk of the inviting and ensorcelling valley between her bosoms. Long shapely legs covered in sheer stockings led up to a short black satin skirt that made a sensual swishing and zipping sound whenever she walked. And she did not so much walk as glided gracefully presenting each satin-clad hip to reflect the light. Her eyes were deepest emerald.

When she next spoke it took him a full five seconds to reply “May I help you, sir?”

“Well…yes. My fiancée, Melissa, comes here and recommended that you style my hair.”

“Why of course it’s youuuuu” she replied opening her arms and giving him just a little hug.

“Melissa is one of our regulars. I’m soooo glad you exited the macho world of barbarian barbers and chose a more gentle approach.”

He was a bit startled. He could not see Melissa. Then, , out of the corner of his eye he saw a lady having her temples and forehead massaged by a young, antiseptically clean blonde lady. He walked around the corner to see his Melissa fast asleep, hair immaculately colored and styled, with her head resting on a small black satin cushion. he felt a touch on his arm.

“Don’t wake her, my dear. This is all part of the service and she adores her little sleeps at the end of our sessions. Don’t you, Melissa, my little love?”

For some reason he thought he heard his fiancé say, “Yesss mistress Krystal”. Her eyes opened slightly. The young blonde stroked her eyebrows lightly and said, “Close your eyes, Melissa. Dreamland awaits, my sweet angel. Simply sleeeeeeep!” Melissa´s eyes rolled and closed.

“Yess, you just nestle into the soft satin cloud of ressst.”

“Mmmmmmmmmm” she said as she quivered like a child entering deep slumber and relaxed.

“Now, young man, I haven’t even introduced myself. I am Lady Krystal, owner of all you see. And I want to style your hair right now. Come and sit over here. And don’t worry, my assistant will look after Melissa.”

After discussing styles, she began to cut his hair. Her voice had a strange, relaxing effect on him. Unlike his barber, who seemed to view every customer as a wrestling match, this lady had style, poise, grace, and more. She was sooo close to his ear and face that he really did feel like plopping his tired head onto those bewitching mammaries , telling all, then hopefully being soothed away to some emerald, dreamy nirvana. Krystal seemed to know this. She was like a stealthy, velveteen clawed lynx creeping up on his senses.

“Why was Melissa asleep?” he asked

“Oh! my dear, the effect of having one’s follicles caressed is soo restful. My darling, she just succumbs and sleeps. I styled her first then passed her to my assistant.”

“That would never happen to me” he ventured.

“Ohhh wouldn’t it, my sweet one? Too strooooooong and manly are we? Well! who knows. This Delilah may find this strong, little Samson’s weakness and sleepily enslave him. Ha!”

He somehow liked this assertion.

After his trim, he was told that Lady Krystal would have to apply special styling mousse all over his scalp and that this would take time.

She adjusted the chair and his head tipped back  almost in her lap. Those satin-swathed, mesmerizing bosoms almost touched his face as she massaged his forehead.

“Now this is where you may succumb to relaxation, my sweet. Don’t tell me that my sweet, silken fingers caressing your brow and working towards your hairline aren’t relaxing you, my dear. Aren’t all my restfully restorative, wonderful words and all your senses soporifically sequestering your silkily satiated sensibilities ensorcelled in satiny sensualities softly and subliminally soothing you, my tired yet resistant little Samson?

“As my soft, feminine fingertips tenderly touch and stroke your hairline, I bet you have deeeeep buried memories about your sweet baby head as a helpless little child. And I sense all you are perceiving pleasurably reminds you of how those ohhh so soothing maternal strokes made you sooooo relaxxxxed. Freely feeling sooooooo relaxxxxeed, sooooo relaxxxxed. Entrancingly enjoying your sweet, chiffon succumbing to slumbers because your enchanted essence is essentially sooooo sleeeeepy , soooooooo sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepy. You are already allured, my soooooooo tired little man. Why all we need is a little, sweet lullaby lightshow, my darling, my little love.”

Suddenly, the ceiling and crystals came to life as a soft light swept round and round across the rooms. And a gentle burr, like that of a child´s spinning top, caressed his ears as it was merging and mingling with Krystal´s soothing, endearing aural kisses.

“Just watch the lights. My dear, you are safe. Lady Krystal will take care of you. As my fingers sweep down by your earlobes and to your oh so relaxing neck, why not resssst, my dear, darling one. Why not succumb to sleeeeep, sleeeee-eeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, sleeeeeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, sleeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeeeeep.”

Her voice undulated like a soft, warm Pacific wave of tranquilizing tranquilities as her fingers surfed his tresses and lulled him deeeper into the sleeeep he really craved and the aroused obedience she wanted. His eyes closed.

Krystal sweetly smiled victoriously down upon him. Then she turned and beckoned to her assistant.

“Right. They are both under. You take her to the little girls “recovery room” and I’ll take him to another pacifying pleasures paradise. And by the way, operate the remote shop closure procedure. It’s time for leisure and pleasure. You have your wet, little lady-slave and I think by the look of this gentleman’s Levis that his girlfriend was not joking when she referred to him as “Howitzer Hips”. Funny though, Delilah got strength over Samson by cutting off his hair. I now have this little Samson by styling it!”

END

POSTSCRIPT – Krystal’s PLEASURES-STIMULATING PostScript:

In this story, I reveal how good a man can feel when the beguiling woman doing his hair drives him DEEPER AND DEEPER into HYPNOTIQUE SLIP SLIDING INTO SLEEP. Here’s a hypnotically stimulating hair-inspired fantasy:

April’s Hypnotic Hair (VIDEO)