She wore her hair long.

She had worn it long ever since an encounter at a nightclub. She had flirted with a man, cockteased him, followed him outside – but when he had propositioned her for sex, she got cold feet and demurred. Enraged, the man had reached out and grabbed her hair, gripping it hard and pulling her towards him – and she had immediately been more aroused than she ever had been in her life. 

She had almost purred with lust, her nipples hardening, her cunt wettening. In that moment the man could have done anything to her, and she would have let him, and orgasmed from the sense of powerlessness.

But a police officer had seen, and intervened before it could go further, and she had wanted to scream in frustration. She wanted that hand back in her hair. She wanted her mouth to be pulled down onto a man’s cock. She wanted to be dragged struggling to a cage. She wanted him to pull on her hair like a leash as he fucked her from behind.

So now she wore her hair long. And she knew that eventually she would convince someone to pull on it…

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