The cute girl's insecurities

Sumire looked somber as I scraped all the depilatory cream off her. She had relaxed her body at the very least, but I could tell she was far different than from what she had been before.

"So... You saw it," she mumbled.

"Were you really cowering at the sight of dogs?" I asked.

Sumire meekly smiled. "Yes... I'm... afraid of dogs. I don't like being near them, freak out when I see them slobbering towards me, but I feel horrible about it. Dogs are beautiful creatures. I didn't used to be so afraid, but then one day, it just... happened. My family has had a number of dogs, currently one right now, yet I'm now afraid of her. I cower and retreat if she walks towards me, bail for my room if she starts running with a toy in her mouth, and that's what partially influenced me to move into the dorms. Pathetic, isn't it?"

I decided to remain silent.

"I... see... Yes, it must revolt you. It revolts me too, but sadly, I've found therapy does little to help, but I don't want to turn my back on the canine community. Thus, I did the next best thing and decided to raise money for canine charities. The stream you saw wasn't the first time I had done such acts. This was just the first time... I was willing to put my appearance on the line. I mean, it worked. There were people that wanted to see a haughty asshole like me, be reduced to tears and humiliation."

"'Haughty asshole'?"

"Ah... My act must have vanished... Yes, this is the real me, a pathetic shell of an estranged noble."

The shit I have to deal with on my day off. Look, I get stylists are conversation starters, and great listeners, but we ain't councilors. Get some- Oh, she mentioned professional help didn't do jack. Should I have said something instead of staying silent and waiting for her to finish? No, I needed to hear everything. Ugh, this is why I wanted to be a dominatrix over a stylist; a dominatrix doesn't listen to problems, she whips your ass and tells you how much of an eyesore you are.

Standing up, I turned to face Sumire. "So, is it self guilt that's motivating you to submit yourself to me? Do you think that by becoming a bitch, you can "atone" for being afraid of your family dog? Are you shitting me? What good is a toy if it's broken!?"

"I'm not-"

"Then where's the haughty? Where's the "thous" and "arts"? Didn't you just say yourself your mask slipped? That's not what I want!"

"B- But my mask slipped plenty when you shaved-"

"Different shit. THAT'S the good kind of breaking. You know what a dominatrix loves? A strong-willed woman. A strong-willed woman because it's a joy to see them humiliated and blush in embarrassment. That's the game I like to play, so don't ruin it for me!"

"I'm... I'm sorry."

"Tch, oil your own damn head, and don't come back to my shop until you reflect upon yourself," I snarled as I tossed her the body oil and began walking away.

"Are you telling me to try and like dogs again? No, you can't just expect me to-"

"This ain't about dogs, but if you want my opinion on that... I hate dogs, all animals actually, especially birds."

"Huh?"

"I ain't scared of them, but have you seen the undead mutt Beckett brings with him sometimes? Fucking hate the damn thing."

"'Undead mutt'?"

"His basset hound. It looks dead as can be, but clearly alive as it flops around, slobbers, and pisses n' shits everywhere. You think cleaning that shit up is fun!? Fuck no! I've got a "No pets allowed of any kind" sign cuz of that shit! And don't get me started on the birds. Bastards ruin the sidewalk out front, which trust me, turns many members of the upper-class, who I depend on for income, away. Besides, ordering someone who's scared of dogs to suddenly start petting them or get ostracized ain't what a dominatrix does, that's the kind of shit a torturer or despot would do. In case you're too stupid to get it, I want you to bring your haughty back. That's the only way you're ever gonna have a chance at seeing me screaming and crying as I'm shaved bald. So when I say I want you to reflect on yourself, it means to remember who you are. You're the twintailed tyrant, furious that she's been demoted to a smooth serf! Is that the kind of woman that would just submit herself to an eternity of humiliation!? No! So bring back the tyrant and fight to avenge your pride!" 

With that, I took my leave, glancing back at Sumire out of the corner of my eye as I went. She stared at tube of body oil for a bit before popping the cap and pouring it all over herself. Looks like the pep talk worked.

...

The next day, the salon was open, so Sumire arrived at normal time, however...

"Achoo! E- Even in sickness, your queen keeps her promises," a masked Sumire sniffled.

Lovely, Sumire's got a cold.