Julie, Kris, and Kelly sat around the round mahogany table in their office, sipping on their black coffee as they discussed the latest case file. Their eyes scanned over the neatly typed pages, each one absorbing the details like sponges.
"So, we're dealing with a hypnotist who's using young women to take out top executives?" Kris spoke up, her blonde ponytail bobbing slightly with each word.
"That's what it looks like," said Julie, her eyes narrowing as she tapped a finger on the file. "But why? And who's the puppet master behind it all?"
Kelly leaned back in her chair, her brunette hair cascading over the leather. "Well, that's our job to find out. But first, we need to get close to Reardon's operation without raising suspicion."
The three of them were Charlie's Angels, the best in the business. They had seen it all, from corporate espionage to high-stakes heists, but this case had a twist that none of them had encountered before.
Julie, the newest member of the team, was eager to prove herself. "I'll go undercover at Reardon's firm," she said with confidence. "Maybe I can get some intel on the inside."
The other two angels nodded in agreement. Kris spoke up, "And Kris and I will take on the role of junior executives. We'll keep our eyes peeled for any signs of foul play at Tectronics."
Their boss, Charlie, a disembodied voice over the intercom, responded, "Good plan, Angels. Remember, we're dealing with a highly intelligent and dangerous individual. Do not underestimate the power of mind control."
With that, they all stood up, ready to take on the mission. Little did they know that the game was about to change in a way they never could have anticipated.
Julie arrived at Reardon's company early the next morning, dressed in a sharp pantsuit and carrying a briefcase that contained nothing but her most essential gear. She walked through the sleek, modern lobby with purpose, her heels clicking against the marble floor. The receptionist looked her up and down before pointing her to the elevator with a suspicious gaze.
Kris and Kelly, on the other hand, waltzed into Tectronics with the ease of seasoned professionals. They flashed their fake IDs and were led to the executive floor, where they were to act as temporary employees. The tension was palpable, and they could feel the eyes of their unsuspecting colleagues watching them closely.
As the days went by, the Angels gathered bits and pieces of information. They noticed the strange behavior of some of the women in the office, who always seemed to be whispering and glancing at their watches. The trail grew colder by the hour, but they were determined to uncover the truth.
But fate had other plans. Reardon grew suspicious of the new executive assistant, and it didn't take long for him to deduce that she was not who she claimed to be. One evening, as the office emptied out, he called her into his private room. The room was dimly lit, with a large chair in the center and a set of strobe lights and headphones on the desk.
"You're not here to take notes, are you?" He said with a sly smile.
Julie felt the blood drain from her face as she realized her cover was blown. She tried to think of an excuse, but before she could utter a word, Reardon placed the headphones on her and flicked on the strobe lights. The hypno script began to play, and she felt her mind slipping away, unable to resist the powerful suggestions.
Reardon's plan was clear: he would turn her into one of his mindless drones, programmed to take out Charlie's client. He had no idea what he had just unleashed by bringing the full might of the Angels onto his tail.
The fight against the hypnotic conditioning was brutal. Each day, Julie was subjected to the strobe lights and the hypno script, her will being chipped away little by little. Yet, deep down, she clung to the hope that Kris and Kelly would find her before it was too late.
One by one, the other angels were brought in for the 'typing test' under the guise of a promotion. They too were hypnotized and placed in the conditioning tanks, their spirits breaking as the days turned into weeks.
The transformation was complete when they emerged from the tanks, wearing the green spandex unitards that had become synonymous with Reardon's control. They were brainwashed into obedience, their personalities stripped away, leaving them as happy hypno drones, ready to serve their new master without question.
The three of them now walked the halls of the company in their large gowns, pearl necklaces, seamed stockings, opera-length leather gloves, and open-bottom girdles, a stark contrast to their former selves. Yet, they felt a strange comfort in their new roles, a comfort that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Julie, once the eager and sharp-witted detective, now moved with a grace that was almost inhuman. Her eyes held a blank stare as she carried out her duties, her movements precise and calculated. The executives she once protected now fell at her feet, her touch as cold and deadly as ice.
Kris and Kelly had become the ultimate femme fatales, their charm now a weapon more potent than any gun. They could manipulate any man or woman with a simple batting of their eyelashes or a whispered command. Their hypnotic allure was undeniable, leaving their targets powerless to resist.
They took to their new lives with a disturbing enthusiasm, executing their tasks with a ruthless efficiency that sent chills down the spines of those who knew them before. Each kill was met with a sense of satisfaction, a twisted reward for their loyalty to Reardon.
Their bouffant hair bounced with every step they took, each strand perfectly in place as if frozen in time. The girdles and high heels that once constricted them now empowered their every move. They had become the embodiment of a dangerous allure, a living representation of Reardon's twisted vision of perfection.
Their deep red lipstick smiles grew more menacing with each passing day, a silent declaration of their newfound allegiance. The nylon stockings that had once been a mere fashion accessory were now a weapon of choice, wrapping around the necks of their unsuspecting targets like a serpent's embrace.
The office had become a stage for their macabre performance, each corridor a catwalk for their deadly dance. The once bustling halls of Tectronics now echoed with the clack of their heels, a rhythmic prelude to the horror that awaited those who dared to cross their path.
Julie, Kris, and Kelly had been reborn as Reardon's instruments of destruction, their minds shackled to his will. They followed the evil path he had laid out for them, forever entwined in a nightmare of his making. The joy they had once found in solving cases and bringing justice to the wronged was replaced by a cold, mechanical satisfaction in carrying out their new orders.
But amidst the fog of their hypnotic servitude, a spark of rebellion began to flicker. It was as if the very core of their beings was crying out against the manipulation, a whisper of their true selves that could not be fully silenced. Slowly, they began to understand that the only way to regain their freedom was to take down the man who had stolen it from them.
One fateful evening, as the moon cast long shadows across the office floor, the three angels gathered in the conditioning room. Their eyes met, and in that brief moment, a silent pact was formed. With a strength they didn't know they had, they broke free from their programming and turned the tables on Reardon.
They approached him as he sat in his chair, surrounded by his monitors and gadgets, the very tools he had used to control them. His smug expression fell as he saw the cold determination in their eyes. He knew he had made a grave mistake.
With a swiftness that belied their elegant attire, the angels descended upon Reardon. They had studied his every move, learned his weaknesses, and waited for the perfect moment to strike. Their hands, once so adept at typing and serving drinks, now became instruments of vengeance.
Kelly stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with a fiery resolve that seemed to illuminate the room. With a grace that was almost mesmerizing, she looped her nylon-covered leg around his neck, her high heel digging into the plush carpet for leverage. The girdle that had once been a symbol of his control now felt like a vice tightening around his throat.
As Reardon's eyes bulged, Julie and Kris joined in, their latex-covered hands working in unison. Kris took hold of his flaccid member, her leather-gloved grip firm and unrelenting as she began to stroke it through the sheer fabric of her stocking. Julie, with her own stocking-covered mouth, took turns with Kris, sucking him to a state of painful arousal.
Reardon's face grew redder, his breaths more ragged, as the stocking tightened around his neck. The pleasure was intense, but the fear of death lurked just beneath the surface. His eyes darted back and forth between the three of them, searching for a hint of mercy that was no longer there.
The moment came, as it always does in the darkest of moments. With one final, desperate thrust, Reardon reached his climax, his body convulsing as he shot a massive spurt of cum into the stocking. But the release was short-lived, as the pressure on his neck grew unbearable. The stocking filled with the warmth of his seed, the fabric stretching tightly around his throbbing member.
Kelly's leg muscles quivered with the effort, but she did not let up. The other two angels continued their relentless assault, their movements now a blur of stocking and latex. The air grew thick with the scent of sweat and sex, a heady mix that seemed to fuel their determination.
Reardon's eyes rolled back in his head, his body going limp. The last thing he saw was the trio of angels standing over him, their expressions a mix of triumph and horror at what they had become. And as the light faded from his vision, so too did the grip on his life. The stocking grew wet with his final release, a grim reminder of the power they had taken from him.
With their former master defeated, the angels surveyed the wreckage of their lives. The office was a battleground of overturned furniture and shattered glass, a testament to their newfound freedom. They knew they couldn't simply return to their old lives, not after what they had been through. The scars of their ordeal ran too deep, and the thrill of the hunt had become a part of them.
They decided to take over Tectronics, using their new skills to eliminate their rivals in a way that was both brutal and alluring. Under their control, the company grew more powerful than ever, and their influence spread like a dark web across the corporate landscape. Each kill was a statement, a warning to those who would dare oppose them.
The boardroom was no longer a place of dry business discussions but a stage for their deadly ballet. They would seduce and manipulate, their words a siren's song that lured their enemies into a sense of false security. And when the time was right, they would strike, their every move a choreographed dance of death.
Julie, Kris, and Kelly had become the very monsters they were sent to stop. Yet, they reveled in their power, the thrill of the kill now an integral part of who they were. They had no lives to return to, so they built a new one, one where they called the shots. The whispers of their victims echoed in the empty halls of the office building, a macabre symphony of fear and desire.
Their days of fighting for justice were behind them, replaced by a quest for dominance. They ruled Tectronics with an iron fist wrapped in a velvet glove, their every action calculated to maintain their grip on the company. The world outside had no idea of the horrors that played out within the gleaming glass and steel tower, but the angels didn't care. They had found a new purpose, a dark and twisted destiny that filled the void left by their stolen lives.
Their reign of terror continued unabated, each new acquisition or merger marked by the sudden disappearance of a competitor. The whispers grew louder, the fear more palpable, but still, no one dared to stand against them. They had become the very embodiment of the corporate predators they once sought to expose, their beauty a mask for the monsters beneath.
In the depths of their opulent office, the angels discovered a new thrill. Each night, they would don their shiny green long sleeve stirrup unitards, the material clinging to their toned bodies like a second skin. They would slip into the oxygen deprivation tank, the claustrophobic confines of which had once been their prison, now a place of twisted refuge.
As the tank filled with water, they would slip on their VR googles, the screens flickering with extreme brainwash loops that played on a never-ending loop. The images were a jumble of sensory overload, a barrage of colors and shapes that danced before their eyes, reinforcing their new reality. The oxygen depletion brought them to the brink of consciousness, and as their bodies begged for air, their minds craved the release that only came from serving Reardon's will.
They found themselves addicted to the process, the edge of orgasm dangling just out of reach. Each gasp for air brought them closer, their hearts pounding in their chests like a drumbeat of desire. The VR images grew more intense, the strobe lights inside the tank pulsing in time with their racing thoughts. The hypno script that once controlled them now a siren's call that urged them to submit, to give in to the pleasure that lay just beyond their grasp.
And so, they would stay, for hours at a time, their breaths shallow and rapid, their bodies trembling with need. It was a twisted ritual, a perversion of the conditioning that had once enslaved them. Yet, in the darkness of the tank, they felt alive, a spark of their old selves flickering amidst the cold steel and gleaming glass. It was a high that no drug could match, a reminder of the power they now wielded.
Their days were spent in their executive offices, their gowns and pearls replaced by sleek business attire that belied the monsters they had become. Yet, even as they crushed their enemies with a smile and a handshake, their thoughts often drifted back to the tank, to the moments of pure, unbridled desire that awaited them when the sun set.
Their nights were a blur of hedonism and violence, the three of them feeding off each other's dark desires. They had become a clandestine cabal, a trio of corporate dominatrices who ruled through fear and seduction. And as they lay in their beds, their dreams filled with the images from the VR loops, they knew that they had become the very thing they had been sent to destroy.
The angels had always known that they would eventually have to deal with Charlie and his agency. It was a loose end that could not be ignored, a threat to their newfound power. They had to act swiftly and decisively if they were to maintain their grip on Tectronics. And so, they set their sights on their former boss, the man who had sent them into this hellish world.
They began to gather intel on Charlie's operations, using their newfound skills to infiltrate his agency from within. They knew his tendencies, his weaknesses, and they used this knowledge to their advantage. Each night, they would slip away from the office, leaving behind a trail of whispers and shadows as they moved through the city, setting their plan into motion.
The final act of their twisted play unfolded in the heart of the agency's headquarters. They arrived dressed in their finest, a masquerade of innocence to hide the monsters beneath. The guards, hypnotized by their beauty, didn't suspect a thing as they strolled past, their weapons concealed beneath layers of luxurious fabric.
The moment they entered Charlie's office, the gloves came off. The hypno darts they had crafted, dipped in a solution of their own making, flew through the air with a silent grace. The room was filled with the sound of gasps and thuds as the agents fell to the floor, their eyes glazed over with the same mindless obedience that had once been their own.
Charlie looked up from his desk, a look of shock and betrayal etched onto his weathered face. But the angels showed no mercy. They had tasted power, and they liked it. They had become the predators, and now it was time for the hunted to become the prey.
With a flick of her wrist, Kelly sent a dart flying towards Charlie. He tried to dodge, but his reflexes were no match for their hypnotic precision. The dart embedded itself in his neck, the venom coursing through his veins.
He slumped back in his chair, his mind swirling with confusion. The angels approached, their smiles cold and calculated. They had come full circle, from being his pawns to becoming the masters of their own twisted game.
They strapped him into the very chair he had used to brief them on their missions, the chair that had once been a symbol of their unity now a throne of retribution. The strobe lights flickered on, the hypno script playing in his ears, and the cycle of brainwashing began anew.
As the lights danced before his eyes, Charlie's mind grew hazy. He could feel the walls of his consciousness crumbling, the last vestiges of his identity slipping away. The angels hovered over him, their gowns fluttering like the wings of avenging angels, their eyes gleaming with the victory that was almost within their grasp.
The process was slow, a dance of power and control that mirrored their own transformation. They whispered sweet nothings into his ear, their voices a siren's call that lured him deeper into the abyss. And as the final strobe of light faded, they knew that the final piece of the puzzle had been set in place.
Their mission was complete. The agency lay in ruins, its agents now mindless drones at their service. They had taken everything from Charlie, leaving him a shell of his former self, a man who would now serve them without question or hesitation.
The angels looked at each other, their expressions a mix of triumph and regret. They had crossed a line, one that could never be uncrossed. But they were in too deep now, too lost in the thrill of the hunt to ever return to the light.
Their hearts, once filled with the passion for justice, now beat in time with the rhythm of power and control. They had become the very thing they had been sent to stop, and they liked it. They had been reborn in the shadow of the corporate world, and they had no intention of ever leaving it again.
Julie, Kris, and Kelly stood before Charlie, their eyes gleaming with a cold, calculating hunger. The same stocking that had brought him so much pleasure in the past was now a tool of his downfall. Kris stepped forward, her hand caressing his neck with the same gentle touch she had once used to comfort a distraught client. But now, that touch was deadly, the stocking tightening around his throat.
Julie and Kris approached from the other side, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine. They had learned to read each other's thoughts, to anticipate each other's actions, and now they used that connection to bring their former boss to his knees. With a flick of her wrist, Julie brought the stocking up to Charlie's face, the same stocking that had been filled with the lifeblood of their enemies. His eyes grew wide with terror as she wrapped it around his throat, the soft fabric biting into his skin.
Kelly knelt before him, her full red lips curling into a wicked smile. She had been the one to deliver the fatal blow to Reardon, and now she was eager to repeat the performance. Her hand reached down, caressing his crotch through his trousers. He struggled against the stocking, his eyes bulging as he realized what was about to happen.
The air grew thick with the scent of fear and lust, a potent mix that only served to fuel their dark desires. They had become masters of the art of seduction, using their beauty as a weapon to bring down the powerful. And now, they were about to wield that weapon against the man who had created them.
With a quick yank, Kris brought Charlie to the brink of unconsciousness, his body writhing in pain. He was no match for the strength they had been imbued with, the power of the hypno script now a part of their very essence. His eyes rolled back in his head, and a low moan escaped his lips as Kelly took his member in her mouth, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin.
The strobe lights flashed in time with their movements, casting eerie shadows across the room. The hypno script played on a loop in the background, a constant reminder of their twisted origins. They had come so far from the bright-eyed detectives they once were, and yet, in this moment, they felt more alive than ever.
As they tightened their grip, their hearts raced with excitement. This was it, the culmination of their twisted journey. They had become the monsters in the shadows, the unseen hand that ruled the corporate world. And as Charlie's life slipped away, they knew that they had truly become the masters of their own fate.
The stocking grew wet with his cum, a grim testament to the perversion of their new reality. They had taken everything from him, just as he had taken everything from them. They had used his own desires against him, and now he would pay the ultimate price.
The world outside their gleaming tower remained oblivious to the dark transformation that had taken place within. The angels had become the very monsters they were sent to bring to justice, and they reveled in their newfound power. Each day, they wove their web of manipulation and fear, their every move calculated to tighten their grip on the corporate world.
Julie, Kris, and Darlene knew that their actions had left them forever changed, but they couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through their veins with each new conquest. They had become the embodiment of the corporate jungle, predators dressed in the finest silks and diamonds, their claws always ready to strike.
Their nights grew darker, their hunger for power insatiable. They sought out new ways to exert their control, pushing the boundaries of their own twisted morality. They had become the very essence of temptation, using their beauty and wit to bend others to their will. The city was their playground, and the powerful men and women who once looked down upon them now trembled at their approach.
One evening, as they lounged in their penthouse suite, sipping on champagne and discussing their next move, a new opportunity presented itself. A rival company, GENTEX, had made a breakthrough in technology that threatened to upend the balance of power. The angels saw a chance to solidify their dominance and struck without mercy.
Infiltrating GENTEX proved to be a challenge, but one they were more than equipped to handle. Using their hypnotic abilities, they seduced their way through the ranks, planting the seeds of doubt and dissent. The company's top scientists and executives began to act erratically, their actions a testament to the angels' influence.
As the chaos grew, the angels knew it was time to make their move. Dressed in their most alluring outfits, they crashed a high-profile board meeting, their eyes gleaming with malicious intent. The room fell silent as they strode in, their presence a stark reminder of the fate that awaited those who opposed them.
The board members looked up, their faces a mix of shock and lust. They had heard the whispers, the rumors of the three women who could bend men to their will, and now they were face to face with them. The angels didn't need to say a word; their very presence was a declaration of war.
The fight was swift and brutal, a dance of seduction and destruction that left the boardroom in shambles. The men of GENTEX were no match for the hypno-enhanced strength and speed of the angels. They fell one by one, each succumbing to the lethal combination of stocking and latex-covered hands.
As the last man lay gasping on the floor, the angels turned their gaze to the terrified scientist who had made the breakthrough. He was young, brilliant, and utterly defenseless against their combined onslaught. With a flick of her wrist, Kris sent a dart soaring through the air, piercing his neck. His eyes glazed over, and the angels knew that they had claimed another piece of the corporate puzzle.
The city watched in horror as GENTEX crumbled from within, their secrets now in the hands of the angels. The lines between good and evil had blurred, and the angels reveled in their new role as the corporate puppeteers. Yet, amidst the chaos and the power plays, they couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The thrill of the kill had become routine, the rush of adrenaline now a mere shadow of what it once was.
Julie looked out over the cityscape, her thoughts racing. They had come so far, become so powerful, but at what cost? Their souls felt hollow, their hearts cold and unfeeling. Yet, they pushed the doubt aside, focusing instead on the thrill of the hunt, the allure of the power they now wielded.
In the shadows of their gleaming office, the angels plotted their next move, their eyes alight with the fire of ambition. They had climbed to the top of the corporate ladder, but the world was a vast and treacherous place, ripe with opportunity and danger. They knew that their journey was far from over, that there would always be new challenges to face,
Zatanna Mohawk Haircut By Black Canary by umsharma, literature
Literature
Zatanna Mohawk Haircut By Black Canary
It was late in the evening when Zatanna Zatara returned to her lavish home, the scent of magic still clinging to her as she opened the door to her bedroom. The moonlight filtered through the large windows, casting a silvery glow on her belongings. She was exhausted from a long day of mystical performances and crime-fighting, ready for a peaceful night's sleep. Little did she know, a surprise awaited her.
As she set her top hat down on the vanity and began to unbutton her jacket, she heard the faintest sound of rustling from the closet. Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Who's there?" she called out cautiously, her voice sharp with suspicion.
The closet door creaked open, and from within stepped Dinah Lance, also known as Black Canary, wearing a mischievous grin on her face. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders like a curtain, and her black leather jacket clung to her frame as if she’d been waiting there for hours.
"Dinah?" Zatanna gasped, her surprise quickly turning into confusion. "What are you doing hiding in my closet?"
"Don’t be mad," Dinah chuckled, stepping into the room with her hands raised in mock surrender. "I came here with a little… proposition."
Zatanna narrowed her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. "Proposition?"
Dinah nodded, her grin growing wider. "I was talking to Diana earlier today, and she came up with a brilliant idea. We think it's time for a change. Something bold. Something new. A Mohawk."
Zatanna’s eyes widened. "A Mohawk? On me? You can't be serious."
"Oh, I am," Dinah said, taking a step closer. "Diana thinks it'll add some edge to your look. And I have to agree. You’ve had the same style for a while, and we think it’s time for a fresh cut. A bold one."
Zatanna crossed the room, standing in front of Dinah with a suspicious glare. "Let me guess, this is part of some larger plan of Wonder Woman’s?"
Dinah’s grin didn’t falter. "Sort of. Salon A Wonder, the new place Diana’s opened, is all about transformation. She wants to turn the salon into a hub of change for everyone in the League. You know, new looks, fresh starts, that kind of thing. And she thinks you should be the first."
Zatanna’s disbelief gave way to amusement. "So, I’m to be Diana’s first client?"
Dinah nodded eagerly. "Yep. And I’ll be the one giving you the cut. Right in that golden-black barber chair she’s got—very regal, very Wonder Woman. We’ll use all her top-of-the-line equipment too: golden-brown capes, water spray bottles, brushes, twin-edge scissors, electric clippers, you name it."
Zatanna chuckled, though there was a glint of skepticism in her eyes. "And what do I get out of this?"
"A killer new look," Dinah answered without hesitation. "And, you get to be the talk of the League for weeks. Come on, you know how much Diana loves seeing people embrace their power in new ways. Plus, I’ve been working on my barbering skills for a while now. Trust me, you’re in good hands."
Zatanna sighed, running a hand through her raven hair. "I don't know, Dinah. A Mohawk is a pretty big leap from my usual style."
Dinah walked over and gently took Zatanna’s hands in her own. "You’ve always been about bold decisions, Zee. What’s one more? Besides, I promise, if you hate it, I’ll make sure we fix it right away. Diana will never let anything happen to that beautiful hair of yours that you don't want."
There was a moment of silence as Zatanna considered the offer, her lips pursed in thought. Finally, she raised an eyebrow. "Fine. But if this goes sideways, you and Diana are paying for the magical restoration of every single hair on my head."
Dinah beamed. "Deal!"
The next morning, Zatanna found herself standing inside Salon A Wonder, an elegant yet strong space that reflected everything about Wonder Woman’s character. The black and gold décor was fitting for the Amazonian warrior. The large golden-black barber chair stood in the center of the room, an intimidating yet regal throne for anyone who sat in it. A golden-brown cape was draped over the armrest, while the walls were lined with a wide assortment of styling tools—water spray bottles, brushes, twin-edge scissors, electric clippers, and even shaving creams and razors.
Diana, dressed in a sharp red and gold outfit that reflected her warrior pride, greeted Zatanna and Dinah with a warm smile. "Zatanna! I’m so glad you’re here. Ready for your transformation?"
Zatanna chuckled nervously, already beginning to regret her decision. "As ready as I’ll ever be."
Diana guided her to the chair and placed the golden-brown cape around her shoulders, fastening it securely. "You’ll love this. I guarantee it."
Dinah stood behind her, already grabbing the water spray bottle, gently misting Zatanna’s hair to prepare it for the cut. The cold water sent a slight shiver down Zatanna’s spine, but she remained still, trusting Dinah’s hands. She could hear the soft hum of the electric clippers being switched on, and the sound filled the room with an air of anticipation.
"Here we go," Dinah said, her voice filled with excitement as she began trimming the sides of Zatanna’s hair with expert precision. Zatanna closed her eyes, trying to relax, though the buzz of the clippers so close to her scalp made her heart race.
With each careful stroke, Dinah removed more of the thick dark locks, revealing Zatanna’s pale scalp beneath. The sound of the twin-edge scissors followed, snipping the remaining strands to shape the Mohawk, while Diana looked on approvingly.
"You’re doing great," Diana said encouragingly as she handed Dinah a brush to sweep away the fallen hair. "The cut is going to make you look fierce."
After what felt like an eternity of buzzing, snipping, and brushing, Dinah finally stepped back, admiring her work. "All done. Ready to see?"
Zatanna hesitated for a moment before nodding. Dinah handed her a mirror, and Zatanna slowly raised it to her face.
She gasped. Her new Mohawk was daring, bold, and completely unexpected. The long strip of hair down the center was sharp and sleek, while the shaved sides added an edge to her overall appearance. She looked fierce, powerful—different.
"Wow," Zatanna breathed, her fingers lightly brushing the remaining strands. "It’s… incredible."
"Told you!" Dinah said proudly, beaming with satisfaction. "You’re going to turn heads."
Zatanna couldn’t help but laugh. "Alright, alright. I’ll admit it, this was a good idea. But I’m still getting used to it."
Diana smiled, crossing her arms. "You’ll grow into it. This is just the beginning of a new chapter for you, Zatanna."
Zatanna glanced at the two women before her—her friends, her sisters in arms—and smiled softly. "Thanks. I guess a little change isn’t so bad after all."
And with that, Zatanna stood up from the golden-black chair, her new look marking the beginning of a fresh and daring journey.
NEW BEGINNINGS
A transformation story by Bouff123 & Kathleen43
As jobs go, this will be a good one he thought to himself as he drove up to the entrance of a rather exclusive boutique hotel and retreat. A few days auditing financial accounts with the following weekend’s accommodation thrown in as part of the deal.
Surrounded by ladies with mud and sliced vegetables on their faces no doubt.
The website showed that they had a well equipped gym, a heated outdoor pool and a bar.
A couple of days of weights and good food would be a great way back into his regime which had lapsed since his divorce.
As he approached the entrance he glanced over at the pool area. As expected, there were women everywhere. But what women... they all looked like glamour models. Some were standing in the pool, passing a beach ball around playfully, others were topping up their tans.
There were no men anywhere. Perhaps they were off playing golf. Either way he figured there should be a great opportunity to have a bit of fun with one or two of the guests during his stay.
Pulling up at the entrance he was a little surprised when a beautiful blonde teenage girl, dressed in a tight red valets uniform, smiled coyly at him and leapt into and drove away in his car.
Another girl that could have been the valets twin sister, whisked his heavy holdall away with ease, blushing as she glanced at his muscular torso. A touch young he thought, but certainly a potential future conquest.
The reception desk was unmanned, a door to the side was slightly ajar, he could hear a woman humming gently. About to push the bell on the desk, he caught a glimpse of a woman in the back room.
She was very tall, standing, facing away from the door, so he had full view of her very curvaceous figure.
She was wearing a tight blue sweater and a black pencil skirt, nylons and high heels. Her jet black hair was scraped up into a sleek business like updo. Mmmmm, he thought to himself.
Straining to see more, he realised that she was humming gently as she brushed the hair of a beautiful blonde woman sitting in front of her. It was then that he noticed the mirror.
Thank god he thought. The blonde woman’s eyes were closed, her head tilted back, she looked beautiful and very content as her head rocked gently with each brush stroke. His gaze lowered to the milky white breasts that were barely contained by the low cut maid’s dress she wore.
The humming had stopped! He looked up in the mirror to see the tall woman staring sternly back at him.
She turned sharply. “Mr Rhodes I presume, we have been expecting you.”
She came through the doorway, hand outstretched. “I’m Veronica White, welcome to my hotel.”
Veronica’s hands were soft, but her grip was surprisingly firm. He didn’t know whether to shake her hand or bow and kiss it.
He stammered slightly, a little embarrassed to have been caught out staring, but he managed to hold her gaze, he had to look up to do so. In her heels, Veronica was at least 6” taller than his 6’2“frame and that didn’t include her hairdo. A mature, strong woman. “Hi, yes I’m Peter.”
Veronica tilted her head, “This is Frank...ie, she’s only been with us for a few days and has a little trouble taming her hair for work”.
His auditing work would start tomorrow. Today was for relaxing apparently.
Small talk continued about the hotel facilities. Peter tried desperately to keep his eyes up, but despite her very beautiful features and commanding voice, he couldn’t help himself. His eyes dropped to her breasts. Even hidden away beneath her sweater... they were enormous.
Veronica was one hell of a woman. He let his imagination run for a second or two.... She could eat him alive.
“Frankie, show Peter to his room please. Drinks are at 6, I insist that you join us.”
...............
After settling into his room, Peter had just enough time to shower and put on a fresh shirt before it was time to meet Veronica for drinks. Hanging his shirts he was surprised to find that the main closet was locked, as was the dressing table drawer. Not that they were needed. Odd.
As he approached the bar he noted the name, ‘New Beginnings.’
He pushed through the door, it was quite busy, with beautiful women sitting at tables or standing at the bar drinking cocktails. A few were gathered around a pool table. All were wearing low cut mini dresses or cocktail dresses and all wore killer heels.
Without exception, they all had perfect hair and makeup. He had never seen so many legs on display. He was starting to think that he had died and gone to heaven.
His eyes lingered as a gorgeous red head leaning over the pool table to take a shot. She had quite broad shoulders and looked to be fairly muscular. Her features were soft and her beautiful, hazel eyes flirted with him momentarily.
“Ah, Peter, do join me.” Veronica called and beckoned him over.
Seated at the head of a long table, she played court with the rows of ladies seated with her. She stood to greet him and gestured to the empty seat at her side.
She seemed even taller. Her hair was now teased out into a tall, sleek beehive, giving her a slightly stern demeanour. The work wear had been replaced by a low cut, v necked, calf length, black satin cocktail dress. Again he couldn’t resist. Her cleavage was .... magnificent, there was no other word for it.
He could see that she was naked beneath her dress, her breasts were firm and round.
She sat, crossing her legs. Her dress split to reveal very shapely legs that went on forever and glossy black 6” heels.
“So Peter, a drink?”
The bottles on the shelves behind the bar were unusual in that they looked like whisky bottles, but each was labelled with a girls name. Each had slightly different coloured contents. There must have been a hundred or so.
On the bar there was an empty bottle. He couldn’t quite make out the name on the label.
“What’s with the bottles?” he asked.
“Well, let me tell you” Veronica began.
“We play a game of cards. Each card you take corresponds to a particular ingredient. If you play, you get to drink your cocktail for the rest of your stay for free.
The cocktails are so popular with our clients that they will come back monthly just to join in our drinks evenings.”
“ OK, I’m game.” Peter replied. Free drinks are free drinks.
“Davina, pass the cards my darling.”
Davina; a petite, slender brunette with long dark eye lashes, stepped from behind the bar, her hips swaying provocatively. Veronica watched her intently as she approached.
Davina handed Veronica a pack of playing cards, their hands touching and lingering for a moment. Veronica looked up into Davina’s eyes and smiled. There was an intense passion in those eyes.
The look wasn’t lost on Peter. He realised that he wasn’t Veronica’s type.
The cards were laid out face down in rows on the table.
Peter looked down, a little shocked at the images on the backs of the cards.
Each card had a picture of a woman. They were all beautiful but had very different features. The lowest row had pictures showing various sexual activities.
“Peter, the rules are simple. Choose one card from each row. Only touch a card that you want to select. If you touch a card, you have to select it. Each card will add an ingredient to your cocktail recipe. So go ahead and choose what you like”.
The girls at the table were now silent, all leaning in to try and see what would be picked.”
Peter’s hand hovered over the cards. This was going to be fun.
The first card he touched showed a blurred image of a girl with enormous breasts.
He exchanged a look with Veronica. She smirked knowingly and sipped at her drink.
She then lifted the card and showed the face to Davina, who reached beneath the bar to then pour a large measure of a red liquor into the empty bottle.
He then tapped a card in the second row depicting a blonde woman with very long, thick hair.
The process was repeated with a different liquor.
This was then followed by a card of a silhouette of a tall, curvy woman.
Glancing at the ‘activity’ cards, their images were finer and more detailed. He leaned forward to get a closer look. A couple were not clear at all.
What difference does it make? He thought. He had no idea what the ingredients would be, so it didn’t matter which he picked.
So he picked one with two women holding hands.
Veronica sat upright, quite visibly surprised.
She looked over to Davina who was already starting to pour a measure into the bottle.
“Yes, you’re right of course, whatever is selected must be true”. She said, Davina smiled warmly in return.
Davina brought the bottle to the table and poured Peter a tall glass of the slightly pink mixture. She placed the bottle down next to him.
Peter noticed that the name on the label was Petra. With a shrug, he raised his glass and said “cheers”. He then drank the glass dry and poured a second. It was delicious and had only the gentlest of kicks.
Veronica left the table and excused herself for the night. Davina followed her, with a little skip as she tried to keep up.
The music in the bar got louder, some girls were dancing provocatively with each other, some were getting very close. Others stared at Peter with hungry eyes.
Peter watched from a distance but was now feeling extremely tired. In fact, his whole body ached.
Half of the bottle had now gone. It was time for bed.
.......
Waking in the darkness, Peter stepped out of bed and tip toed into the bathroom.
His head hurt. Filling a glass with water he took a long drink and glanced in the mirror.
Blinking hard, he rubbed his eyes, not believing what he was seeing. His hair had grown .... and was now blonde. He must be dreaming.
Sliding back into bed, the cotton sheets felt delightfully soft against his skin. Another hour, he thought to himself and was soon fast asleep.
Waking in the morning with sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains, Peter felt much better. 6am. No rush.
Rolling onto his side brought some confusion.
A long lock of soft blonde hair fell over his face. Brushing it aside, he noticed that his hands appeared long and slender.
His finger nails were now much longer and were all uniform in shape. But that wasn’t the biggest shock.
As he rolled over he felt and saw that there were now two very large breasts where his pecs used to be.
“What the f...”
He knew that this wasn’t a dream. Feeling a flush of concern but even more, a feeling of excitement, he lifted the sheets and looked down.
He was strangely disappointed to see that ‘it’ was still there.
Walking to the mirror he stood and stared for a minute, turning from side to side to take it all in.
Six foot tall, a very narrow waist, curvy hips and a full, very shapely ass. Still quite muscular, but so slim. He cupped one of his large breasts feeling a rush of pleasure.
His face was now much softer, more oval, with full lips and high cheek bones. He tilted his jaw, no sign of his usual morning stubble. Running his fingers through his hair, it felt wonderfully soft. It was a thick blonde, messy mane that cascaded down his back almost to his ass.
Sitting on the bed, instinctively crossing his shapely legs, he contemplated this very strange turn of events.
There was no panic or concern. In fact there was an overwhelming sense of calm and acceptance that was getting stronger as the minutes passed.
After a few moments he stood, his breasts bouncing, causing him to suppress a giggle, he shook his hips to see them wobble again...
Then he thought of the day ahead.
What to wear... and more importantly, what to do with this hair.
Sitting at the dressing table, which was now covered in brushes, bottles, powders and perfumes, Peter picked up a brush, but noticed that there was a folded, scented note tucked into the frame of the mirror.
‘Good morning Petra,
Welcome to my entourage. I hope that you are happy with your choices. Please check the closet for some suitable clothing. It won’t hurt if you are a little late for work this morning. Please take your time.
We will be having drinks again this evening should you wish to continue your stay.
Mistress Veronica’
Petra? So now I’m Petra.......
How lovely.
Petra picked up a brush and started to deal with his long tousled mane. The brush felt wonderful against his scalp but nowhere near as nice as the feeling of his now very soft hair against his body. Each movement gave him tingles of joy.
Initially he struggled, but soon got used to avoiding his breasts which seem determined to get in the way.
He brushed his hair down over each shoulder. It flowed between his breasts and over his nipples. The sensation was divine.
The huge closet was rammed full of dresses, blouses, skirts and casual wear. The drawers had lingerie, underwear and some rather sexy garments. And there was a whole closet of shoes and boots, all with extraordinarily high heels.
Drawing items from the closet, Petra laid a selection on the bed, matching blouses with skirts.
Thinking of how Veronica.... or should she say - Mistress Veronica -was dressed, Petra selected a white blouse, black skirt and the lowest pair of high heels that he could find. But what about underwear?
There were many to choose from. At first he picked up a pair of very plain panties, but a black garter belt caught his eye.
Looking down between his legs again, he realised that he would need to do something... but what?
Rummaging deeper into the drawers he found a strange pair of black seamless panties. They were perfect.
Petra stepped into them and pulled them up. Gently tucking himself in, the panties had a ‘pouch’ that covered ‘it’ perfectly.
A pair of black stockings gave his shapely legs even better definition. After clipping the garter straps in place he wriggled into the tight skirt and slipped on the blouse. The cotton felt soft against his skin and showed his breasts to full effect.
That’s better he thought giving a little wiggle to straighten his skirt. A check in the mirror, mmmm, not quite as full a figure as Veronica, but so very beautiful.
It’s now or never.
Opening the door, Petra stepped out into the morning sunlight.
Walking into the reception area he saw Veronica who greeted him with a very warm smile.
“You look absolutely divine,” Veronica announced as she leaned forward to kiss Petra tenderly on each cheek. Veronica’s hug was very warm, her perfume smelled wonderful, her breasts pressing firmly against Petra’s. Petra was surprised that she found Veronica to be incredibly attractive.
She was wearing her business attire. Her pencil skirt and a ruffled peach blouse that strained to hold her breasts in place.
Veronica reached out and fondled Petra's long blonde hair. “We'll have to do something about this.” She said “It just won’t do.” She turned to Frankie who was standing just behind her and said “Frankie, please make an appointment for Petra in the salon this afternoon. Let’s go with a full makeover”.
Petra was delighted at the thought of this. “Thank you, Veronica,” he replied.
Veronica’s gaze hardened a little.
“As we are now working” she said, “I think you should call me Mistress ”.
Petra responded a little cheekily, "Yes, Mistress. Of course, Mistress.”. It felt very natural to be subservient and Petra was pleased to see Mistress smile warmly. “I suppose that you have lots of questions Petra but they will have to wait until drinks later. I'm sure you will be joining us, but for now, let's get you to work.”
The morning passed quickly and after a light lunch brought in by a blushing Frankie, Petra headed off for his appointment at the salon.
As he entered he was delighted to see that his hairdresser was none other than the beautiful, auburn haired lady that had been playing pool the evening before.
With a beautifully warm smile, she approached and gave Petra a warm hug. “Hi, I’m Carla, I will be tending to your needs today. I think we should start with the hair. Then your nails and we’ll finish with your makeup.” She gestured to a chair in front of a huge illuminated mirror.
“Take a seat, lets get started.”
Petra studied Carla in the mirror as she worked on his hair. She was gorgeous and had the most beautiful eyes Petra had ever seen. Petra found himself very attracted to her. This couldn’t be right. Could it?
Carla’s hands were so soft against Petra’s skin. After washing and conditioning, she brushed Petra’s long hair into a high ponytail and with heated tongues, gave the ponytail a long sweeping curl.
HIs hair was long enough that the ponytail could be brought over the shoulder and down over his breasts. It felt divine.
Other girls came and went, having various treatments. They all looked beautiful when they came in, but left looking absolutely stunning after the slightest of touch ups here or there.
Petra and Carla chatted through the afternoon, discussing all sorts of things. Petra was surprised at how much they had in common, from taste in reading material to vacation locations past and hopefully future. It turned out that Carla had her own busy salon in the city, she was helping out here for a few days and loved to come back from time to time.
What a wonderful way to spend an afternoon thought Petra, feeling incredibly relaxed.
Carla's touch as she applied makeup with brushes and her fingertips was so gentle. Petra found herself staring down at Carla's cleavage and wondered what Carla would look like without her salon uniform.
Their faces came close together as Carla concentrated on applying some eye shadow. Petra’s eyes closed. Petra could feel Carla's breath against his cheek. Petra opened his eyes, to meet Carla’s gaze which lingered a just a moment too long, before turning away, her cheeks flushed.
“There. We’re all done” Carla stated.
Time had passed all too quickly.
It would soon be time for drinks.
Petra thanked Carla with a gentle kiss on the cheek and left to go and find something to wear for the evening.
Back at his room, he felt the need to relax and freshen up. After removing and folding his clothes, he slipped into a deep bubble bath. Taking care not to get his hair wet, he lay back until only his breasts were exposed above the bubbles like twin mountain peaks above the clouds.
Petra closed his eyes and relaxed. A thirty minute soak would be wonderful before dressing for the evening.
He wore a tight low backed cocktail dress with a plunging v at the front that showed of his décolleté wonderfully. The tight, very short skirt, allowed his stocking tops to just peek out.
As he entered the bar all eyes turned to him and the room fell silent once again, but only for a moment. Some girls gave a friendly smile, others returned to their conversations. They were all stunningly beautiful.
“There you are Petra, come and join us, you have some more cards to pick”. Mistress Veronica called from her place at the head of the table.
She looked amazing in a black trouser suit, her hair once again in a tall, elegant bouffant.
Petra headed to the table, but he found himself scanning the room for Carla. There she was, at the pool table facing away from the door, she was draped across the table taking a shot. She stood and turned and beamed the most beautiful smile in Petra’s direction. Petra gave a little wave in response and then turned to Veronica who reached out to greet him.
Leaning in for the now obligatory kiss on the cheek, Petra was surprised when the kiss covered half of his lips. He turned to see if Carla had noticed, but she was wrapped up in her game of pool.
“Good evening Mistress. Did you say more cards?” Petra asked, noticing the pleasure in Veronica’s face with his continued use of ‘Mistress’.
“Yes, tonight there are just two cards.” Veronica replied. “But take care, remember that the choice is permanent.”
The cards depicted silhouettes of women taken from the side. One had a penis, the other did not.
It was clear what the choice was.
Glancing again at Carla, and then again at Veronica who was looking so incredibly hot, Petra wondered about his potential desires as a woman and if being without a penis would alter this.
His hand hovered over the ‘with’ card. Veronica shuffled a little closer. Petra recognised that his desires for her were very different to how he felt about Carla, but he liked these feelings and didn’t want to change.
His hand lowered towards the ‘with’ card... and stopped.
He remembered the final card from the previous evening. Two women holding hands. He knew what it meant.
He lowered his hand and tapped a long fingernail on the ‘without’ card.
Within moments Davina served him a yellow cocktail, leaving the bottle with him. Decision made, Petra drank the glass dry.
“Wonderful, wonderful” Veronica exclaimed and stood to give Petra a very warm and close hug. Petra felt a bit of a rush in the item that he had just said goodbye to and hoped he had made the right decision.
The evening was wonderful, after a few cocktails Petra felt the need to dance and joined a group of girls on the dance floor. He watched as they danced, copying some of their moves and adding his own. Carla spotted him and stepped onto the dance floor, they danced together with broad grins having a wonderful time together.
The evening started to draw to a close. The music slowed and became more romantic. Unsure about Carla’s feelings towards him, Petra stepped away. As he turned, he felt a hand take his elbow. Turning back Carla drew him closer, sliding one hand around his waist, the other to the nape of his neck. As their cheeks touched, Carla whispered, “I chose the card with two girls too”. Petra’s heart literally skipped a beat.
“Move closer, move your body real close to me...” the song continued. Petra had never felt so good. He held Carla so tightly, he didn’t want to let go. The scent of her hair was intoxicating, as he nuzzled her neck tenderly. If only they could stay here forever.
The lights were slowly rising, it was the last song. Petra decided to be brave and tenderly moved to kiss Carla.
But Carla pulled away, tilting her head towards Veronica who was staring at them intently.
Petra wondered what she had done wrong.
Sensing this, Carla whispered,
“Veronica first”.
She then bowed her head towards Veronica, Petra noted that Veronica responded to Carla with a gracious smile and the lift of her glass.
With a light kiss on the cheek Carla said “We’ll talk soon” and walked out, their hands slipping apart.
Not understanding, but happy that he had not upset Carla with the attempted kiss, Petra walked over to Veronica to say goodnight and to thank her for such a lovely evening.
He saw Veronica watching her lasciviously as he approached and couldn’t resist adding a little extra sway to his hips as he walked over.
They embraced as Petra said “Goodnight Mistress”.
Veronica kissed Petra squarely but tenderly on the lips. “Goodnight darling” she responded. “Sleep well. Tomorrow will be very.... busy”
Back in his room, Petra removed his makeup and undressed. Slipping naked between the soft sheets, he started to think about Carla, but within moments was fast asleep.
Waking slowly, Petra’s thoughts immediately went to Carla. She couldn’t wait to see her again and planned to go and see her at lunchtime. Then she remembered the previous evening and the card selection. Thank goodness! Her feelings hadn’t changed.
However, things down below did not feel different... everything felt normal.
A little disappointed, she lifted the sheets to look. But ‘it’ had gone. It felt normal... because it was normal. She explored delicately with her fingers.
Her imagination took hold as she thought of Carla, and she found herself becoming aroused. Her nipples hardened. Cupping one breast she stifled a moan as she arched her back in pleasure.
The room phone chirped into action.
“Not now” Petra thought “not now”.
But it was too late, the moment was lost.
She picked up the phone.
It was Veronica
“Good morning Petra, darling. I hope You slept well. We have a lot to do today, I’ll be over in an hour. Please be ready.”
It wasn’t a request, it was a command.
“Yes Mistress” Petra responded.
A short time later, showered, make up applied and hair brushed into her now favoured ponytail, Petra opened the closet to select today’s outfit.
The closet was almost empty.
There was a small box containing a black garter belt, panties and stockings. A pair of red patent leather thigh boots that had the most ridiculous high heels and toes that that point straight down to the floor and a single dress.
The dress was a zip fronted mini dress, made in very glossy red latex.
There was no choice. Petra dressed quickly and took a look in the mirror. She looked incredibly hot! But she could barely walk in the high ‘ballet boots’.
There was a knock at the door.
Mistress Veronica.
Her beautiful black hair was teased out and combed back. . She was wearing an ankle length black latex coat, partly open to the waste, with a wide belt that was drawn tight showing off the curve of her hips and adding definition to her enormous breasts and cleavage.
She had a lot of makeup on, far more than usual, with the brightest red lips. She looked magnificent.
Veronica stepped forward to take Petra’s arm and help steady her as she walked to the office in those ridiculous boots. Her eyes roamed all over Petra hungrily, pausing to take in the sight of her large breasts and cleavage being lifted by the tight dress. Veronica gave a sharp intake of breath before moving her gaze down to Petra’s ass and legs.
The lust was obvious in Veronica’s eyes. Petra felt thrilled.
“Come through to my office” Veronica encouraged.
“Yes Mistress ” Petra responded.
Veronica’s gave Petra’s arm a gentle squeeze as they entered the back room. As Veronica closed and locked the door, Petra glanced around the room.
It was much larger than she had anticipated. The desk and chair just inside the door formed a small office area. The rest of the room was a very large, opulent bedroom. There was a huge four post bed as the centre piece, adorned with soft white Egyptian cotton. It looked very inviting.
There was a red velvet chaise long at the foot of the bed and a huge deep fur rug in front of a large fireplace that had candles burning in the hearth.
Crimson velvet curtains were closed with the room softly lit by a few wall and table lamps.
Veronica guided Petra to the Chaise long. And sat beside her. She didn’t let go of Petra’s hand.
“This forms the end of your transformation, it is something that all girls must go through in order for the process to become permanent.
All this remains is for me to teach you how to enjoy your beautiful body to the maximum and given your choice of cards, how to make love to a woman.
This is what this all costs.
You can leave now and after a day or so you will return to your previous life as if nothing happened. If you stay, there will be drinks tonight and you will stay as you are forever.
Your cocktail will be always available should you feel the need to ‘top up’, the cost for a visit would be an hour or two with me. I have needs. (She smiled) I am every girl’s guilty pleasure.
You will have a new job as a partner, with me in our own accountancy firm, in a new office in the city.
You will also be free to come and see us as often as you wish.
Take a moment to decide.”
Without hesitation, Petra leaned forward and drew Veronica’s hand to her breasts, whispering “Please teach me Mistress Veronica”.
Veronica leaned forward and gently stroked Petra’s cheek with the back of her fingers, drawing her long fingernails over her lips. The caress continued to her neck where she gently stroked a stray wisp of hair away.
Later that evening, Petra arrived at the bar in a navy sweater dress. She was exhausted but elated and wanted to see Carla desperately.
She blushed as she entered the bar. Most of the girls were smiling broadly at her.
She picked Carla out from the crowd, she was at the pool table of course.
As she crossed the room, she brushed past Mistress Veronica, their hands touching momentarily. Petra paused and looked at her Mistress. She looked as stunning as always. Her hair and makeup was impeccable. Veronica held onto Petra’s hand pulling her close.
“She is beautiful my sweet” nodding towards Carla.
Petra kissed her on the cheek. “thank you Mistress”.
Standing in front of Carla, Petra paused, unsure of what to say. How would Carla feel, knowing what had happened.
Carla drew her close in a warm embrace.
“I hope you had a wonderful time together. In the future, Mistress will have to be a free pass for both of us....” She smiled coyly, “ Or perhaps we could arrange to see her at the same time, I’m sure that Mistress would like that.”
Petra stroked Carla’s cheek tenderly and kissed her passionately in a long embrace.
Stretchy and Elastic Spa Massage of Playtime by queenofhearts22, literature
Literature
Stretchy and Elastic Spa Massage of Playtime
It was just another ordinary day at a popular spa, where a pair of eager masseuses stood ready at the entrance, anticipating their next clients.
As they spotted a couple strolling down the street, a sly smile crossed their faces. "Hello there! How would you like to indulge in a complimentary massage for two? We’re here to help relieve the stress of your daily grind," one of them offered warmly.
The couple, intrigued by the enticing offer, happily agreed and were guided inside to two luxurious massage tables prepared just for them. As the doors closed, the atmosphere shifted instantly. The skilled masseuses approached the couple, initiating an intense massage that engulfed them in bliss.
They began with gentle, invigorating chops on the scalp, and soon the couple felt their worries melt away, surrendering completely to the experience.
The masseuses then infused aromatic oils and soothing lotions onto their backs, expertly gliding their hands back and forth, transforming the
“Hey, white girl 12:00”,Shanna gestured towards the door with her chin. Machelle looked and saw the new girl coming inside the barbershop nervously. She was definitely not from the area. The barber smiled as she went up to the young woman and asked,”Hi, are you lost?”
“No, ma’am. I just need my hair cut”,the woman replied earnestly,”Why do you ask?”
“It’s just…”,Machelle trailed off before continuing,”You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No, ma’am”,the woman replied,”I’m new here and could really use a haircut”
“Uh-huh”,Machelle nodded quizzically,”Well, I could certainly help you with that. Come on back”
Machelle led her cautious client over to the barber chair. She watched on skeptically as her client sat down in the chair. The barber then pumped up the chair before applying the cape onto the young woman’s body.
“So, what are you doing today?”Machelle asked, already anticipating a few choice answers.
“I am kinda leaving that up to you”,the young woman replied.
Machelle gave her a
Harley and Poison ivy punishment and Joker Revenge by umsharma, literature
Literature
Harley and Poison ivy punishment and Joker Revenge
In the dimly lit streets of Gotham, the night air buzzed with a sense of unease. Joker, with his signature maniacal grin, had hatched a plan to teach Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy a lesson for their recent actions. They had become too bold, too independent, and Joker felt it was time to remind them of who was in charge.
Joker’s plan was meticulous. He had secretly infiltrated Wonder Woman’s apartment, slipping past the Amazonian's security with the ease of a master villain. In the center of her pristine bedroom, he placed a large, old-fashioned barber chair, its leather seat gleaming under the soft light. A massive mirror stood in front of the chair, reflecting the surreal scene. The walls were adorned with various barber capes, swaying slightly as if alive. On a nearby table, an array of clippers, scissors, shaving cream, and razors lay in perfect order, ready for use.
Satisfied with his preparations, Joker took out his phone and dialed Harley Quinn. "Harley, you won't believe this! I've got some juicy news about Wonder Woman. Meet me at her place immediately!" His voice dripped with deceit, but Harley, always eager for excitement, took the bait without hesitation.
Next, he contacted Poison Ivy, spinning a similar tale. "Ivy, darling, there's a situation involving Wonder Woman that requires your special touch. Hurry over to her place, pronto!" Poison Ivy, curious and slightly concerned, agreed to join him.
As Joker waited, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, imagining their reactions. Soon, the door creaked open, and Harley Quinn, with her baseball bat slung over her shoulder, bounced into the room. Poison Ivy followed, her eyes narrowing as she took in the bizarre setup.
"What's going on here, Puddin'?" Harley asked, her voice tinged with both excitement and suspicion.
Joker's grin widened. "Welcome, ladies. I’ve decided it’s time for a little… make-over session." He gestured dramatically towards the barber chair and the tools laid out.
Ivy crossed her arms, her expression hardening. "What's the meaning of this, Joker?"
"Simple," Joker replied, his tone eerily cheerful. "You've both been acting out of line, and it's time you remembered who runs this show." He pointed to the chair. "Now, one of you, take a seat."
Harley glanced at Ivy, then back at Joker, her eyes flickering with defiance. "No way, Joker. We're not your puppets."
Joker's face darkened for a moment, then he burst into laughter. "Oh, Harley, always so spirited. But this isn't a request." He snapped his fingers, and from the shadows, several of his henchmen emerged, surrounding the two women.
Realizing they had little choice, Ivy stepped forward, her green eyes blazing with anger. "Fine, Joker. But you'll regret this."
She sat in the chair, and Joker draped a barber cape over her, securing it tightly around her neck. He picked up a pair of scissors, their blades glinting ominously. "Now, let's get started."
As he began to snip away at Ivy’s hair, Joker lectured them on loyalty and the importance of knowing their place. Harley watched, her fists clenched in silent rage, but she knew better than to challenge Joker directly, especially with his henchmen present.
When he finished with Ivy, her once lush hair now lay in uneven tufts, Joker turned to Harley. "Your turn, dear."
Harley took a deep breath and sat in the chair, her eyes locked on Joker's. As he worked, she vowed silently to herself that this humiliation would not go unanswered.
Finally, Joker stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "There we go. You both look… refreshed."
He turned away, signaling his henchmen to leave the room. "Remember, ladies, this was a lesson in respect. Don’t forget it."
As the door closed behind him, Ivy and Harley exchanged looks. They knew this wasn’t over. Joker might have won this round, but they were already plotting their revenge, their bond stronger than ever in the face of his tyranny.
Joker, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy stood in stunned silence as Wonder Woman emerged from the shadows, her powerful presence filling the room. She moved swiftly, capturing Joker with her golden Lasso of Truth, binding his hands behind his back. The usually smug and confident Joker was caught off guard, his eyes wide with surprise.
"You've caused quite a scene here, Joker," Wonder Woman said, her voice firm and commanding. "But I have a proposition for you."
Joker, despite his predicament, managed to maintain his signature grin. "And what might that be, Wonder Woman?"
"I'm impressed with your hairdressing skills," she began, her eyes briefly flicking to the smooth, shiny heads of Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. "I need a haircut, and I want you to do it."
The room fell silent. Harley and Ivy's faces showed a mix of shock and concern. They knew the Joker's penchant for cruelty and were wary of what he might do given this unexpected opportunity.
Joker’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. "You want me to give you a haircut? Right now?"
"Yes," Wonder Woman replied, her tone brooking no argument. "Do this for me, and I'll consider letting you go."
Joker saw a chance not only for freedom but also to turn the tables and humiliate Wonder Woman. He agreed, trying to hide his delight. "Alright, Wonder Woman. I'll do it."
Wonder Woman unbound Joker's hands but kept a close eye on him. Joker guided her to the large vintage barber chair in the middle of the room. As she sat down, she found the chair surprisingly comfortable, its old leather creaking slightly under her weight.
Joker took a barber cape from the wall and draped it over Wonder Woman, securing it around her neck. He then sprayed water onto her hair, the cool mist causing her to close her eyes and relax. He began brushing her hair, making sections with practiced precision.
Harley and Ivy watched with a mix of fascination and horror as Joker prepared to cut Wonder Woman's hair. "Wonder Woman, you shouldn't trust him!" Harley warned. "He's up to something."
Wonder Woman ignored the warnings, focused on the task at hand. "Joker, are you ready?"
Joker picked up a comb and a pair of sharp scissors, standing behind the chair. "Oh, I'm ready. But remember, you asked for this."
He bent her head forward, starting to cut her hair meticulously, section by section. The sound of scissors slicing through hair filled the room as he moved to her left side, bending her head to the right, then to the right side, bending her head to the left. He worked with an eerie concentration, making each cut as short as possible.
Finally, Joker moved in front of her, combing her hair forward. He gathered the long strands in his hand and slowly began cutting them. The process took around 30-40 minutes, with Joker ensuring every snip was perfect, giving her a sleek and elegant look.
When he finished, Joker removed the cape and stepped back, admiring his work. Wonder Woman opened her eyes and looked at herself in the large mirror. She reached up, running her fingers through her newly cropped hair. Despite the situation, she felt good about the haircut. It was sleek, elegant, and practical.
Joker couldn't hide his satisfaction. "Well, Wonder Woman, how do you like your new look?"
Wonder Woman stood up, her expression thoughtful as she examined her reflection. "I have to admit, Joker, you did a good job. But remember, this doesn't change anything."
She swiftly re-bound Joker's hands with her Lasso of Truth, ensuring he couldn't escape. "Thank you for the haircut, but you'll still face justice for your actions tonight."
Harley and Ivy breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that Wonder Woman's strength and resolve had kept Joker in check. As the Amazonian warrior prepared to take Joker into custody, the lesson was clear: no matter the circumstances, justice would always prevail.
The years had passed slowly for Joker, each day in his cell fueling his burning desire for revenge against Wonder Woman. The humiliation she had dealt him by binding him again after granting him the illusion of freedom was something he could never forget. His anger simmered until the day he was finally free once more.
Back in the familiar shadows of his old warehouse, Joker began to plot. This time, his plan would be flawless. He decided to transform his decrepit hideout into something unrecognizable: a chic, high-end barber shop that would lure in his unsuspecting prey. He named it "New U Cut and Shave Salon."
The renovation took months. The once grimy walls were now covered in sleek tiles, and ten large, luxurious leather barber chairs were installed in a single line, each facing a massive mirror. The tables beside each chair were stocked with an array of clippers, combs, water spray bottles, brushes, shaving cream, and razors. Barber capes adorned with the logos of various superheroes, prominently featuring Wonder Woman, hung from the walls, adding a playful yet ominous touch.
Disguised as an unassuming barber, Joker began giving haircuts to clients, his skills and the elegance of the salon quickly earning a stellar reputation. Word of the extraordinary new barber spread rapidly, and it wasn’t long before Wonder Woman herself heard of the place. Her curiosity piqued, she decided to book an appointment.
The day finally arrived. As Wonder Woman approached the "New U Cut and Shave Salon," she was impressed by the stylish exterior and the big, bold sign. She rang the bell and was greeted warmly by the receptionist, who confirmed her appointment and led her inside. Wonder Woman marveled at the spacious, beautifully designed interior as she was directed to one of the plush barber chairs.
She made herself comfortable, the soft leather enveloping her as she waited. A few minutes later, Joker, in his barber disguise, approached her with a warm smile. "Welcome to New U Cut and Shave Salon, Miss…?"
"Wonder Woman," she replied, her tone courteous yet firm.
"Welcome, Wonder Woman. How can I help you today?"
"I need a drastic but good haircut, something unforgettable," she said, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "It's been 2-3 years since my last one, given by Joker. Despite his villainy, his hairdressing skills were impeccable."
Joker's eyes glinted with hidden malice. "Well, Wonder Woman, you've come to the right place. Your hair is now in the hands of the right person."
He draped a large barber cape over her, the one adorned with her own logo, and began spraying water on her hair, brushing it through to prepare for the cut. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, "Are you ready for the haircut?"
Wonder Woman was taken aback. "Ready for the haircut? I didn't tell you what I wanted."
"Don't worry, Wonder Woman," Joker replied smoothly. "I know what suits you. I have something special for a special superheroine. You can trust me."
After a moment's hesitation, Wonder Woman nodded. "Okay, Mr. Barber. You can cut my hair according to your choice."
With a wicked grin hidden beneath his disguise, Joker began his work. He bent her head forward and started cutting her hair meticulously, making it as short as possible. He moved to the left side, bending her head to the right, and continued the same precise cutting. Then he moved to the right side, bending her head to the left, cutting with exacting care.
Finally, he stood in front of her, combing her hair forward and gathering the long strands in one hand. With slow, deliberate snips, he cut her hair, the sound of the scissors slicing through her locks filling the room. The process took around 30-40 minutes, and Joker ensured every cut contributed to a sleek and elegant look.
When he finished, Joker removed the cape and stepped back to admire his work. Wonder Woman opened her eyes, her reflection revealing a sharp, stylish new haircut. She ran her fingers through her hair, genuinely pleased with the result.
"Well, Mr. Barber," she said, "you've outdone yourself. This is indeed a haircut I'll never forget."
Joker's smile widened, but this time, there was a gleam of satisfaction not from the praise but from the success of his deeper, darker plan. Wonder Woman had unknowingly fallen into his trap, and he had taken the first step in his grand scheme of revenge.
Wonder Woman had become a regular at the "New U Cut and Shave Salon," each visit further cementing her trust in Mr. Barber's skills. She appreciated his meticulous attention to detail and the comfortable atmosphere of the salon. After a few sessions, she began contemplating something bolder—perhaps a buzz cut or even a head shave to match her fierce persona.
One sunny afternoon, Wonder Woman decided to take the plunge. She walked into the salon, greeted by the familiar sight of the stylish interior. The receptionist smiled and confirmed her appointment with Mr. Barber, directing her to a special barber chair that Joker had meticulously prepared.
As she settled into the chair, Wonder Woman felt the leather embrace her, providing a sense of comfort and anticipation. Joker emerged from the shadows, standing behind her with a professional demeanor.
"Hello, Wonder Woman. What brings you here today?" he asked, his voice smooth and welcoming.
"Hello, Mr. Barber. I need something bold, like a buzz cut or head shave. I want to feel more energetic and comfortable," Wonder Woman replied, her determination clear in her voice.
Joker's eyes sparkled with hidden excitement. "Wow, wow, wow. Your demands are getting bolder by the day. Let me grab the equipment, and we'll get started."
He draped a large golden-black barber cape over her, adorned with the Wonder Woman logo, and began combing her hair backward. With practiced precision, he picked up his scissors and swiftly snipped a large chunk of her hair, the sound of the blades echoing in the quiet salon.
Joker then plugged in the clippers, the familiar buzz filling the room. He started at her forehead, running the clippers across her scalp and leaving a clean, grey strip. He continued until no hair was left on her head, ensuring a smooth and even cut.
Next, he picked up the shaving cream, applying a generous amount to her scalp. With a razor in hand, he carefully shaved off the remaining stubble, leaving her head completely bald. He wiped her head clean with a towel and applied aftershave to smooth her skin.
Wonder Woman felt a rush of liberation as Joker completed the process, but the atmosphere in the salon shifted as she looked at herself in the mirror. Joker's reflection behind her showed a fleeting smirk, a hint of his true intentions.
As Wonder Woman admired her new look, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Suddenly, Joker's demeanor changed. His voice turned cold and mocking.
"Well, Wonder Woman, you look marvelous. But did you really think I'd forget how you humiliated me?" he sneered, stepping in front of her, his true identity revealed.
Wonder Woman's eyes widened in realization, but it was too late. Joker's plan had come to fruition. He had stripped away not just her hair but a part of her dignity. The ultimate act of revenge was complete.
"Consider this my parting gift," Joker whispered, his voice dripping with malice. "Every time you look in the mirror, you'll remember who did this to you."
Despite the humiliation, Wonder Woman's spirit remained unbroken. She knew she had been deceived, but her resolve only grew stronger. As Joker walked away, she vowed to bring him to justice once more, her bald head a symbol of her unwavering strength and determination.
In the end, Joker's revenge was bittersweet. He had humiliated her, but in doing so, he had only fueled the fire of her relentless pursuit of justice. Wonder Woman left the salon, her head held high, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.