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 workMavuika arrived at Xilonen’s workshop pushing her motorcycle with a nervous smile that boded nothing good. At first glance, the vehicle looked fine, but the exact moment Xilonen’s critical gaze landed on it, the bike collapsed comically, falling apart into dozens of smoking pieces on the dusty floor.
Mavuika let out a guilty giggle, but Xilonen was in no mood. The blacksmith had put up with this girl’s destructive track record for far too long. Sighing heavily, Xilonen ignored the scrap metal, grabbed Mavuika by the arm, and dragged her inside the workshop. With a sharp tug, she closed the curtain door behind them, isolating the room from the outside world.
Before Mavuika could offer an apology or pull out her pouch of Mora, she found herself pushed onto her back and tied firmly down to a worktable.
"Take it easy, Xilonen, I'll pay you double this time," Mavuika tried to negotiate, struggling uselessly against the straps.
Xilonen approached with a predatory smile, holding a new metallic gadget that buzzed with thermal energy. "I will not accept Mora for the bike repairs this time," the blacksmith stated, turning on the device. "You will pay with your hair. Introducing my new invention: the Phlogiston Razor."
To set the tone for her punishment, Xilonen decided to start in less obvious places to maximize the proud girl's vulnerability. She lifted Mavuika’s immobilized arm and ran the hot, precise head of the device over her armpit, shaving it completely bare in seconds. Mavuika gasped at the strange sensation of the thermal blade leaving her skin bare and exposed.
But the real price was up top. Xilonen positioned herself by Mavuika’s head, sank the Phlogiston Razor right at the center of her hairline, and pulled straight back. The blacksmith proceeded to shave exactly half of her head. Mavuika’s thick, fiery locks fell to the floor like extinguished embers. Xilonen paused for a moment, forcing Mavuika to feel the embarrassing contrast between the smooth shaven half and the heavy weight of the intact mane on the other side.
"Look at you. You look as disastrous as your motorcycle," Xilonen teased, enjoying the blush on her 'client’s' cheeks.
Without giving her time to reply, the blacksmith turned the razor back on and proceeded to shave the other half of her head. The constant buzzing eliminated any trace of Mavuika’s glorious hair, gliding meticulously until leaving her skull smooth and gleaming.
When Xilonen finally undid the straps on the worktable, Mavuika sat up, bringing her hands to her bare head. After alternating the razor across different parts of her body, the punishment was complete. Mavuika had been stripped of all her hair, left with only her eyebrows on her face. Her bike would be repaired, but it was going to take a long time to recover her dignity.