The three of them came into the salon just after we opened. The private studio was in the back, away from the training salon floor where my senior apprentices served as models for the student stylists, and I waited to see whether the receptionist would direct them back to me or not. She did and a moment later they stood in front of me. They were all achingly beautiful, as befitted those referred to me directly. They came over and stopped when they saw the lines of heads along one wall of the studio.

“How can I help you ladies?”

They jumped, but none said a word. The tallest of the three, a brunette, held up a small black calling card.

“Ah, I see. You’re all here to audition?”

“Yes,” the brunette said. “I’m Meghan and this is Tiffany. And that’s Amber.” She pointed at the blonde and the redhead.

“I’m Miss Helen,” I said. “Am I to take it that you both understand just what you’re auditioning for?”

They nodded.

“Well, just to be sure, I’ll go over it again-” the lawyers required it “- and then if you’re ready to commit we’ll get busy. Sound good?” They nodded again, which was a good sign. Applicants with the right potential to become my Angels, the highest-priced lesbian escorts in the country, never had much to say at this point. They knew the gravity of what they were about to do. “If you commit to me today, I’ll put you through an interview process to see if you have the right mindset,” I smiled, “the right... lack of inhibition, to be one of my Angels. We’ll also get to see how you’d perform both as a junior and a senior apprentice. As a junior you earn your place in the salon and as a senior you earn your place in the Angels program. It generally takes about six months to get that far.” I went on, “Anyways, you’ll get a stunning makeover and, of course, a chance at a life filled with pleasures you can’t yet imagine. Before we get to that, however, you should know exactly what I’m looking for. You need to be beautiful, which you all are, you need to be willing to do anything for sex, and you need to have never been with a man. Plus enjoying a day at the salon helps,” I laughed. “Do you each affirm that you meet the minimum standard?”

“Yes,” the all said.

“What happens if it turns out we’re not what you’re looking for?” asked Meghan.

“I cut off your head, of course.”

“You’re joking, right?” Tiffany interjected.

“Not in the least,” I replied and then gestured to the back wall. “You didn’t think these were plastic, did you?” Tiffany gasped while Meghan looked stunned. “No, my dears, if you don’t have what I’m looking for then you join my Wall of Shame.”

“How…how likely is that?” Meghan asked.

“Hmmm…for a normal applicant, the odds are about 1 in 10. For you three, being that you’re here together, the odds are higher. You are, in effect, competing against each other, so your odds are more like 1 in 2.”

Tiffany spoke up, “So one of us…”

“More likely two, but yes, you will leave your gorgeous head on my wall. Should you commit, of course.” They were quiet again, taking it all in, as I gave them my last instructions. “Should you sit anywhere in my studio, I will take that as acceptance of the contract you’ve been offered. Should you choose to back out of the contract before the interview process is complete, or should I find that you have lied to me, the consequences are…severe. I don’t recommend that,” I added with a smile. “Now, if you’re ready to begin, I’ll need one of you to take a seat in the waiting area just around the corner and the others to take a seat at the shampoo bowl. After you’ve all taken your clothes off, of course. You need to be naked for this.”

They exchanged nervous glances for a moment before Tiffany said, “This is what we came to do, right?” They nodded. Without a word, Tiffany walked over and sat down at the shampoo bowl. Meghan and Amber took their seats in waiting area.

I made the usual small talk as I caped Tiffany and leaned her back to the bowl. The first shampoo was nothing special, just a quick scrub as I lathered up her blonde hair, but the second was a real treat. What none of my applicants ever knew was that the shampoo was formulated using a special serum to put them into a hyper-relaxed state. When my business first began, extreme measures had been needed to maintain compliance during this stage (hanging an applicant in front of the others usually did the trick) but now, well, Tiffany couldn’t leave the bowl even if she wanted to. The serum was formulated to last several hours, during which Tiffany would be unable to resist any suggestion at all. Just as important, she would also be incapable of telling a lie.

“So, Tiffany, tell me…have you ever been with a man? I know you’ve got the beauty to make it here but I do require all my women to be pure.”

“Nope… Men are gross…” she answered playfully, her eyes closed as she was completely under the control of my hands on in her soapy hair.

“That’s good. Now, is there anything you wouldn’t do for sex? Anything at all…?”

“Hmmm…I’m not sure. Meghan’s the only person I’ve ever been with…”

“Oh? So she’s your girlfriend?” That would require additional precautions on my part.

“No, just friends…with benefits…” Tiffany giggled.

“And you like getting your hair done? You seem to be enjoying this.”

“No…I mean I do but not really…”

“Hmm…well, that’s OK. We can work with that.”

I let her relax as I rinsed and lathered her up once more, just to be sure the effect of the serum would last long enough for her student stylist to do her work. After I conditioned her hair, I rinsed it one more time before putting it up in a towel and leading Tiffany over to an empty station on the training floor where Jennifer waited for her. Far from being a typical student stylist, Jennifer and Sandra were two unsuccessful applicants that I’d kept on for a few months now to help with the interviews. Their job was to gauge the potential of new applicants to be senior apprentices out on the floor, in addition to getting the applicants ready for the next step in the process.

“Alright, Miss Meghan, it’s your turn.” She followed me back to the bowl and took her seat.

As I caped her up, she asked, “What did you do to Tiffany? I’ve never seen her that relaxed.”

I smiled as I leaned her back to the bowl. “Just the same thing I’m going to do to you. Take complete control.”

Meghan’s turn at the bowl went the same as Tiffany’s had. Within moments she was moaning softly as I lathered her up.

“If you’re going to cum that’s alright,” I said with a smile. “My scalp massages have that effect on people.”

“Oooo…I just might…this feels amazing.”

I put to her the same questions I’d asked Tiffany and got surprisingly similar answers. She’d never been with a man but she had a few more inhibitions than her friend did and she absolutely loved to spend a day at the salon. In short order I had her rinsed out and handed over to Sandra.

“And last but not least,” I said as I led Amber over to the bowl. Her experience was much the same as the others, up to a point. When I asked if she’d ever been with a man, she didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes…only men…I don’t know how I’d be around a woman.”

“Well that’s not good. You lied to me and I don’t like that.”

“I’m sorry…I didn’t want to let my friends down.”

“Oh I don’t think they’ll remember it after today,” I said with a smile.

Rather than hand her over to Jennifer or Sandra I took her to my chair where, unlike her friends, she got a nice flat blowout. The other girls had their hair put up in rollers before they were placed under my dryers. Confident that Meghan and Tiffany were in good hands I took Amber from the styling chair and led her down a quiet hallway to a secluded backroom. She hadn’t got quite as much of the serum as the others and I could tell by her nervousness it was starting to wear off. That was just how I wanted it. I always enjoyed what came next.

I unlocked the room before leading her inside. The room was dimly let and I kept it that way while I locked the door behind us. I hit the light switch and Amber screamed. A noose hung from the ceiling, suspended above a short stool and a drain in the floor. A small table by the wall was the only other furniture.

I took a firm hold of Amber’s wrists, which I quickly handcuffed, before I said, “You can scream all you like, my dear. The room is soundproofed; no one out there can hear you.” When she’d quieted down, I went on, “You lied to me, and that is the one thing I cannot abide. And this is the consequence.”

“You…you don’t have to do this…please…I’ll do anything…”

My back to her, I opened up a small case and took out a vial and a needle. Filling the needle halfway, I turned and said, “My business is built on compliance above all else. And yes, I do have to do this. Your contract, the one you agreed to when you sat down,specifies your termination in the event you cannot comply with my standards.” The needle went into her arm.

“What…what’s that…?”

“My special blend of anabolic steroids. You see, I have expenses. Yes, the training salon breaks even but I prefer to make a profit and Angels can take so long to successfully complete my program. No, I need something else. In your case, there’s a buyer with a taste for your meat and the tender it is, the better. The longer you take to die, the more adrenaline you release and the tender your meat will be. Ready?”

“What…? Of course not!”

“That’s too bad. I have to get back to your friends.” The serum’s effects had almost not quite worn off, just enough that Amber didn’t put up a fight as I noosed her and placed her on the stool. The noose was also specially made, constructed so that it restricted her windpipe instead of crushing it. The end result was an extraordinarily long hang time. She’d last while over an hour, maybe as many as three, before she expired and her meat would be tender indeed. “Good bye.” With that I tipped the stool out from under her and Amber dropped all of three inches before the rope took her weight. She sputtered and gasped
as her hands strained at the cuffs and her feet kicked like crazy. “Ooo, you’re a fighter. It’s too bad, really…the fun you and I could have had. Oh well… I’ll be back when you're dead. Enjoy!”

I watched her struggle for a while before heading back out across the training floor. Tiffany and Meghan were back in my private studio, asleep under the dryer hoods as they blinked away. Unlike with clients under normal dryer hoods, both ladies had their wrists and legs secured to the chair. My dryers served another purpose. When programmed properly, they scanned the brainwaves of whoever sat in them. By the time I’d finished with Amber both machines had sedated and scanned the brainwaves of their occupant. The readout on the controls screen told me exactly how close each was to my standard of no inhibitions whatsoever and, more importantly, how much neural reprogramming was needed to get them there. It was that gap, and the effort it would take to cross it, that determined whether an applicant made a trip to the Wall of Shame or not.

Jennifer looked up from the control screen as I walked up. “Tiffany shows 87%.” Anything over 90% could generally be fixed in less than an hour. “And Meghan’s at 74%.”

“How many blondes do we already have in that apprentice pool?” For some reason they always scored higher than the rest.

“Seven,” Jennifer replied.

“Well, we definitely don’t need another one,” I said quietly. I glanced over at Meghan’s readings. I had no real policy when it came to an absolute minimum score. Anything under 80% was generally a waste of time, unless I was willing to have an applicant under the dryer for hours and I usually wasn’t. Still, I’d had my fill of blondes lately and I did have one final option. “Wipe her memory and her personality. Completely,” I added. “And then substitute one of our standard models.” That would cross the gap the same as extensive neural reprogramming would and do so in much less time. Without a word, Jennifer hit the appropriate button and a surge of electricity passed through Meghan’s body. She spasmed once and then went limp.

“It will be a little while before she wakes up.”

“Good. Bring Tiffany to me when she’s done processing.”

I left them then, for my office and the paperwork that inevitably came with processing three applicants in a single morning. Despite what my detractors might think, everything I did was perfectly legal (and the Angels brought enough attention in the corridors of power to keep it that way) but I could never be too careful. I cast a glance at a TV monitor in the corner of my office where Amber's body still kicked as she fought for breath. I gave my pussy a stroke but decided against enjoying myself too much. One of my newest Angels had her initial test with me that night and I knew from experience that it was worth waiting for moments like that.

I was absorbed in my work when Jennifer caught my attention an hour later. I looked up to see her show Tiffany in. As she always did with applicants like this, Jennifer had outdone herself. Tiffany’s long blonde hair was piled up on her head in a mess of braids and curls and her makeup looked exquisite.

“Come on over, Tiffany, “ I said as she crossed the private studio to my desk. “We’ve got to talk about your future in my program.”

“You mean I have one? I won’t be on the Wall…?”

“Well, let’s talk about that. You answered all my initial questions adequately and you scored high on the technical portion of your interview.” I saw the confusion on her face and laughed. “Don’t worry, no one ever remembers that part. So, all that’s left is to get your signature on a few forms and get you processed in.”

She signed without thinking about it (they all did) and I took her into yet another side room, this one hidden in the wall of my studio. We stepped inside and I again locked the door behind us. “Sorry about the light,” I said as I fumbled with my keys.

“It’s alright,” she answered. “I’m so excited to have this chance!”
Tiffany’s enthusiasm died as I hit the light switch. The axe glinted softly in the light, the block and the basket behind it equally foreboding.

“What…what’s this for…?”

Without a word I took my own clothes off. Then I ran a finger gently from her face to her breasts as I softly whispered, “This is for me to enjoy you.” No handcuffs this time, just a piece of rope to bind her hands behind her back. I gave her neck a kiss while I worked. “See, the whole point of my Angels program is that I get to have you, over and over, before anyone else does. You have to satisfy me, you see? And this is how you’re going to satisfy me.” She whimpered quietly as I massaged her neck. “You know, I used to use the guillotine, but it’s too mechanical, too impersonal. Just pull the switch and it’s over. I don’t get to cherish the moment, feel the tension in your neck before it comes apart under the axe, watch your submission as you lay your head on the block, choose the exact moment to bring the axe crashing down…” I could feel myself getting wet but I didn’t fight it. All of my candidates ended up in here sooner or later. There’d been dozens in the last year alone and it still never got old.

“Come on,” I said gently. I stood her in front of the block and picked up the axe. I held its razor sharp blade at eye level for Tiffany to see. “See? Look at how sharp it is,” I said quietly. It can take your head off in a single stroke…” she jumped as I caressed her neck… “or, if I prefer, it can take half a dozen strokes to finish you off. How many would you like me to take?”

She whimpered quietly as I forced her to kneel and then secured the braid in her hair to a hook sticking out of the opposite wall. At the push of a button the hook retracted downwards, forcing Tiffany’s neck to the block.

She shivered as I ran the blade of the axe across her pale skin. “You see? This is far more intimate and sensual then a simple beheading.”

“Please…don’t do this…” she begged.

I raised the axe up high and brought it down in a measured stroke born of much practice. Tiffany gasped as the blade came to a stop halfway through her neck. “When you resist you just make it more fun,” I said with a smile. This time the axe stopped three quarters of the way through. My pussy was so wet I thought it would burst, and I moaned as I ran a gentle finger along it. I surrounded to the orgasm and brought the axe down one more time. Tiffany’s head dangled from the hook, bleeding out into the basket below it.

I quietly dressed and headed back out into the studio. “Have one of the juniors prepare Miss Tiffany for the wall,” I told Jennifer, “and remind her that if she doesn’t do it properly she’ll join her there.”

“Yes, Miss Helen.”

I picked up the clipboard by the neural control station. Miss Meghan was now Miss Melanie, I saw. I glanced at Sandra's station and saw her putting the finishing touches on Melanie’s updo, not quite as extravagant as Tiffany’s, of course, but still gorgeous. I wasn’t surprised to see they were almost finished; time seem to slow when I got to cut someone’s head off. I walked over a moment later as Jennifer took the cape off.

“You look wonderful!” I said. “So, Miss Melanie, are you ready to see your new home?”

She nodded. “Yes, Miss Helen.”

I took her by the hand and led her down the hallway past where Amber still dangled to a door at the very hand. I unlocked it to reveal a pleasantly lit stairwell and showed Melanie down it. “Now remember,” I said cheerfully, “most junior apprentices only take a couple of weeks to move up to senior. You’ll get better accommodations if you make the leap.”

“And if I don’t you’ll cut off my head?”

“You catch on quick!” I said as we got to the door at the bottom of the stairs.

“So what do I have to do as a junior apprentice?”

“Well, you do all the odd jobs that keep this place running, but mainly,” I opened the door with a flourish, “you have to survive.”

Melanie screamed. Bondage equipment cluttered the room, on which half a dozen women were tied and contorted in agonizing positions.

“Welcome to the rest of your life.”

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