HairSnip.com

It didn't take me long to realise that using a search engine to find a hair salon was not necessarily the best way to go about it. What it did teach me, however is that there are a lot of people out there with far more imagination than I possess. It took a matter of minutes for me to be led into a world that I never dreamt existed, a world where a haircut was anything but the chore that most of us have to endure every now and again. A haircut was a thing to be anticipated, planned, observed. I was in the shadowy world of watchers, friendless people, deviants. Or at least that was how I had used to think of them.

I hadn't got a boyfriend at the time, but that was nothing to do with me. It wasn't me who chose to regale a dinner party with tales of the racier elements of our sex life. They were mainly his friends, I'm glad to say, but he was out of my life shortly after I was out of the restaurant. That was three weeks before I decided to find a new hair salon to cheer myself up in a girly sort of way. I had actually started to enjoy the freedom of a single life again. Freedom to do what I wanted with what I wore, with the way I looked, without having to wonder whether somebody else liked it or not. That's not to say that I don't miss certain things about a relationship, but at the time they were worth doing without.

I had been drawn to my computer each evening for a week, eager to explore this world more and more. I soon knew though that I was coming to the edge of this new universe as it has been getting harder and harder to find new material. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing as it meant that I could get back to being a thirty-something woman out to make the most of her life. However I now had new areas of the real world to explore, even if I didn't have travelling companion to enjoy the voyage with me.

I had taken to going into town for a walk at lunchtimes and had been paying particular attention to hairdressing salons. Not really to see what was going on inside, but to see if I could spot one of these observers that I had read so much about. My research suggested that there should be crowds of them gathered outside each salon, but I couldn't see any. If they existed in my town they must be well-able to conceal themselves. I walked past salons, I sat at coffee shops opposite salons, but saw no-one who appeared to take any interest in what was going on inside.

I didn't want to cut my hair. I liked it. I looked after it, spent too much money on shampoos and conditioner for it, had it trimmed regularly, occasionally had it tinted. But here I was night after night looking at pictures of women having their hair cut short or even shaved. I couldn't do that, could I?

I did want to experience something of the 'hair world'. That was how I came to be standing outside a beauty parlour early on a Saturday morning, minutes before my appointment for a bikini wax. These appeared so often in the stories and articles that I had found, they just seemed like everyday occurences. I had never had one and had never had any complaints or even requests from boyfriends to have one. I may have trimmed the odd stray before heading to the beach, but that was as far as it went. And now there I was, about to cross the threshhold. I had entered this world electronically, but actually doing it for real was another matter. I told myself that I was being stupid, that millions of women did what I was about to do without a second thought. I went in.

The receptionist looked up and smiled, reaching instinctively for the appointment book.

"Hi, I'm Julie, here for a wax" I said a little too quickly.

"Hi, Julie, let me take you through" she said. She stood up and was off down a corridor, my guide to this new world.

In less than half an hour I was back onto the bustling street. Struggling to admit to myself what had just happened. What I had just done. Even telling myself off when the phrase 'Pandora's Box' flashed across my mind.

I was in the shower that evening before I allowed myself to think about what went on in that room. I had been trimmed. I had been waxed. I had been neat.

Then I had been pursuaded. I had been denuded. I was smooth. There I was, in the shower, soapy. I had been without a boyfriend for too long.

Within a week I had made another appointment at the beauty salon to have my eyebrows re-shaped. As I read through my collection of hair stories, I noticed the occasional mention of eyebrows and was fascinated. Here was something more daring for me, something that would be noticed by those I worked with, unlike the results of my previous visit to Emma.

The receptionist led me through to Emma's workstation even though after last time I would never forget the way.

"Hi Julie" she smiled and motioned to me to have a seat. I smiled at her and placed my bag on the floor before sitting down.

"So, how did you like my handiwork last time?" she asked.

"It took a bit of getting used to, but I like it" I replied tamely.

"I felt a bit bad afterwards, you know, I thought I might have bullied you in to it." she said.

"Well you did bully me and I'm glad you felt bad" I replied sternly, before allowing my expression to soften into a smile.

"And here you are willing to put your eyebrows at my mercy."

"They need to be tidied up, that's all" I said.

"Right now, just relax" she said.

That's fine for someone to say, but much harder to actually do when you are having your eyebrows plucked. She worked quickly and skilfully, minimising the discomfort.

"All done" she said and handed me a mirror.

I nodded in appreciation. She had actually managed to get a really nice curve into them.

"So you're not going to dash off like last time?" she asked.

"You've no idea how embarrassed I was about that" I blushed.

"You shouldn't have been, you're not the first you know. I like to think of it as a happy side effect."

"There's a time and a place, though isn't there?" I said somewhat circumspectly.

"It can be our little secret" she said with a wry smile. "Now, anything else I can do for you while your here?"

"No, that's it for now, it'll be a while before I need to re-do....down there, you know."

She smiled.

"What about up there?" she asked, pointing to my head.

I fingered the ends of my hair, conscious that I hadn't had it cut since I began my searching that fateful afternoon.

"I thought you just did beauty treatments" I replied.

"Full service, I thought you knew that from last time" she said. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that" she added quickly.

I smiled. "Don't worry about it" I said.

"So?"

"I hadn't thought about it, not here. I just didn't think you were a hairdresser as well."

"But you were thinking about a haircut?"

"I was, after I broke up with my boyfriend, but I got over it, you know, as you do. The urge passes and all that."

I was reaching up to get my coat off the peg, getting ready to go.

"What were you going to have done?"

"At one point I was going to shave my head" I said, pictures from various websites flashing through my mind.

"He was that bad?" she asked.

I nodded.

"So what stopped you?"

I looked at her quizzically for a moment before I chased the images out of my mind and processed her question.

"It's not really the done thing, is it" I said, slipping my arm into my coat sleeve.

"Why not?" she asked.

"You saw what it took to try to pursuade me to go from landing strip to nothing where no-one could see, you can imagine how much it would take for me to do anything that the whole world could see" I replied.

"New boyfriend wouldn't like it?" she asked.

"There still isn't one, I'm having a rest from all that" I replied.

"Then what better time, no-one to please but yourself."

"Why do I get the impression that you're going to try to bully me again?" I asked.

"I wouldn't do that, now would I?" she replied, hand clasped to her chest in a mock-offended sort of way.

"The moment passed, that's all" I said, straightening out the collar on my coat.

"That's a shame, it would suit you" she said, moving over towards the door. She turned back towards me.

"Tell you what, get Anna to book you in later this afternoon."

"What for?" I asked.

"Anything you want" she replied.

"You are trying to bully me" I said.

"No I'm not. Have a think, make your mind up and if you want to do it, come in later on."

She started to walk down the passage towards reception. Her footsteps stopped. I heard her coming back. She peeped round the door.

"What are you waiting for?"

"I was thinking."

"What about?"

"About last time" I said after a pause. This woman had seen parts of me that probably only medical practitioners had and ever would. It made me feel foolish that I was all tongue tied.

"You can keep your knickers on this time" she replied with a smile.

"No, not that. I was just thinking that you did something to me that I wouldn't have done on my own and I actually ended up glad that I did it."

"Hold on to that thought" she said, hand outstretched towards my coat collar. Her other hand came up and she was slipping the sleeves down my arms.

"Through here" she said, moving towards the door again. We turned left down the corridor and in to the room next door. I hadn't actually known that it was here, but this was a fully equipped hair salon. She took a gown from a row of identical gowns by the door and held it out to me.

I held out my arms as she enveloped me in the gown, moving behind me to fasten it around my neck.

"Pick a seat" she said.

No sooner had I sat down than I heard a low, vibrating sound. She eased the palm of her hand back from my forehead and across the crown of my head. Her other hand followed almost instantly. She had not said a word to me, not asked if I was sure about what she was going to do. Not until a furrow had appeared where my parting had used to be. I'm not sure if you could even use the word 'stubble' to describe the amount of hair that was left on that strip. There was barely anything at all.

"I suppose that you could say that it's a bit late to change your mind" she said, looking at my reflection in the mirror.

I said nothing. I couldn't. She carried on. Running the clippers over my scalp again, before moving to the side of my head and running them up around my ear. I was stunned. I was enjoying it. I was being inducted into the world of the 'weirdos' that I had discovered only weeks before. Except that they weren't weirdos. I certainly wouldn't class myself as weird. I was just experimenting with something. It wasn't hurting anyone, it wasn't illegal, but given some of the sensations that I was feeling it perhaps should be outlawed!

Emma was running her hand over my scalp. She flicked a tress from my shoulder with her other hand. I looked at it lying in my lap. I smiled.

I was aware of Emma moving away from me and when I smelt the same smell that I had when Emma had shaved my pubic mound and knew that she was going to be as ruthlessly efficient on my scalp as she had been when she had shaved me the first time. I closed my eyes so that I could memorise these sensations. It was over all too soon.

"You can open your eyes now" I heard her say.

There I was in the mirror. Hairless. Different. Not at all how I imagined I would look.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"It will take me a while" I said.

"But?"

"I think I'll like it" I said after a pause.

She held the shaving brush and mug up.

"It would be a shame to waste it" she said.

"I couldn't" I replied, suddenly eager not to embarrass myself again.

"Look Julie, you're going home to an empty house. Do you really want to risk the batteries being flat?"

I looked at her.

"Last time wasn't an accident, you know" she said, putting the brush down. She reached behind me and undid the fastener on the gown. She dropped it to the floor and bent down to kiss me, one hand caressing my newly smooth scalp.

She felt me ease away from her slightly and drew her head back. She looked into my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Julie" she said softly. "You've had enough new experiences for one day, I suspect."

I looked around for my coat. It was draped over the arms of a chair in the corner. I stood up and looked across at it, grateful for the time to try to calm my racing pulse. A pulse that was racing because I had just let this woman shave my head. Racing because she had just propositioned me. Racing even more because I now knew why it had been racing before. It wasn't just excitement at a new experience, I was turned on in a way that I hadn't been before. I knew pretty much what to expect from boyfriends, whoever they were. I didn't know what to expect from Emma.

I reached out and took her hand, pressing it against myself through the material of my skirt. Just as I closed my eyes, I saw her smile.

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