I've been trying out new things, sorry for the delay guys. I hope you like it!
All characters depicted in situations are 18 years of age or older and of the age of consent, even if it looks otherwise. Acts depicted are all consensual. No real or fictional person was harmed in the making of this work
The "Haute Couture Robotic Spa" promised to be the ultimate relaxation experience in the city. Bayonetta, exhausted after a long night of hunting Paradiso's angels, decided she deserved some pampering.
A worker guided her to an immaculate private booth, dominated by a futuristic chair full of mechanical arms and a control tablet. "The machine will take care of everything, ma'am. Make yourself comfortable," the girl said before leaving and closing the door.
Bayonetta sighed elegantly. She deactivated her Umbran magic, allowing her tight black suit to unravel. Her hair, which formed her clothing, was freed and fell in an endless, silky cascade down her back. She wrapped herself in a soft white salon robe and, to relax completely, took off her iconic black-rimmed glasses, leaving them on a side table. The world immediately became blurry, but she didn't mind. She sat in the mechanical chair and crossed her legs.
The tablet screen lit up, and the robotic arms sprang to life. The "Style Trial" program began.
At breakneck speed, the mechanical arms grabbed her hair. First, they pulled it into an incredibly tight ponytail. Before she could complain, they twisted it into a severe low bun, worthy of a strict librarian. Seconds later, the bun was undone and the arms wove two braids that made her look like a schoolgirl. The machine didn't stop: it raised the braids and transformed them into ridiculous twintails, only to finally let it all loose and use hot tongs, leaving her head full of a mountain of exaggerated, dreadful curls.
"Useless junk, you're going to give me a migraine," Bayonetta muttered, losing her patience.
She reached out toward the glowing tablet, squinting her myopic eyes. She tried to look for the green "QUIT" button, but the letters danced in her unfocused vision. She pressed hard on what she thought was the right option. In reality, she had pressed "CUT".
Clack! Padded shackles snapped shut over her wrists and ankles, immobilizing her against the chair for "safety." "What is the meaning of this...?" she started to say, but two mechanical scissors descended at lightning speed. Snip, snip. In a single flawless swoop, her incredibly long curly mane fell to the floor, leaving her with a straight Bob cut at jaw level.
"Stupid machine!" Bayonetta exclaimed, indignant at seeing her precious hair on the floor. Using one of her trapped fingers, she stretched toward the screen to press "STOP". However, her blurry finger landed on the option right below it: "PIXIE".
Several electric clippers emerged from the compartments. Buzzing aggressively, they shredded the bob in a matter of seconds, shearing her head until she was left with a very short, spiky, and masculine Pixie cut.
Bayonetta was furious now. Her breathing hitched. She pointed her finger at the huge red button that, by visual logic, should be "CANCEL". But the red button said "BALD".
The machine beeped affirmatively. An arm poured a thick, hot lather over her head. Before Bayonetta could summon a demon to wreck the place, an automated razor glided smoothly and quickly over her scalp. Row by row, the razor eliminated any trace of hair. Her head was left completely bald, smooth, and gleaming.
Bayonetta closed her eyes, exhaling a long, resigned sigh. She was tied up, bald, and in a robe. It didn't matter anymore. She squinted one last time at the screen, trying to press "RELEASE". Of course, she pressed "EPILATE".
The chair reclined, and smooth laser panels aimed at her bare legs. Instead of getting angrier, the witch simply relaxed her shoulders and flashed a smile full of arrogance and sarcasm. "Well... if you've already left me bald, you might as well leave my legs silky smooth, you piece of junk. Go right ahead, darling."
Ten minutes later, the machine emitted a musical chime and the shackles opened.
Bayonetta stood up. She ran a hand over her smooth, bald scalp. It felt strange, but undeniably aerodynamic. She snapped her fingers to summon her Umbran magic and clothe her body again... but nothing happened. Without her magical hair, there was no suit.
"Wonderful," she deadpanned, scanning the room.
In a corner, there was a box labeled "Spa Lost & Found." She rummaged inside and pulled out the only clean garment there: a very tight, bubblegum pink tube dress.
She sighed, took off the robe, and slipped into the tiny pink dress, which highlighted her curves perfectly. She walked over to the table, picked up her glasses, and put them on. Her vision cleared instantly.
She looked at herself in the full-length mirror. The shiny bald head, the iconic black-rimmed glasses, the mile-long legs, and that loud pink dress. Anyone else would have cried of embarrassment. Bayonetta, instead, placed a hand on her hip, posed as if she were on the cover of Vogue, and smiled with predatory confidence.
"Hmm... avant-garde," she purred, turning around. "The angels are going to love my new season."
And with her usual hip-swaying strut, the Umbra Witch walked out of the spa, ready to dominate the world with her gleaming bald head and a stolen pink dress.