"Tell me little boy, would you like to brush my hair? Surely that is how I may expose you to the sacred beauty of my hair. It is quite the honor, being able to tend to something so perfect." She asked, though it was hardly a choice. With her hair having Sam surrounded, he really couldn't say no.
"Well, I... I suppose so. You just saved me after all." He spoke as her hair approached him, a brush emerging from the sea of red locks. As he began to run the brush through her seemingly endless amount of hair, he couldn't help but realize how, well, beautiful it was. It was oddly enchanting, almost. This enthrallment only seemed to grow with time.
Against his will, he found his free hand gravitating to come stroke Clara's beautiful hair. She gave an almost motherly smile as he did, her hair reaching up to embrace his body. "I see you've begun to realize the extent of my hair's beauty. Please, allow me to show you even more. You've only seen the very surface of it's beauty."
Clara's hair begins to try and embrace Sam, likely engulfing him if he were to not resist. He quickly...
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