HairSnip.com

I was called all manner of things when I first showed off my new look. My favourite was probably 'the Borg Queen', coined by somebody in the mailroom who should have known better. It made me smile. Although at the time I had had no intention of shaving my head, it had been an experience, a one-off. It had started conversations, it had even started a relationship, however short-lived that had been.

I had no idea why those images were going through my head now. What a time to be thinking about a haircut! Perhaps it was just my way of deciding that my current relationship was over. There had to be some manual somewhere that said that if you start thinking about a haircut that you had six months previously, while bent over a sofa with some guy thrusting away behind you, then there was probably no long-term future in it. I had to admit that the sensations were enjoyable, but this was certainly not the all-consuming passion that I wanted. It was predictable, it was mundane. There was none of the frisson that raced through me when Emma pressed the flat of her hand to my stomach in the salon all those months ago.

The thrusting became more urgent. I gripped the sofa tighter, noticing that it had moved as a result of the relentless pounding transferred down my arms. The edge of an old red wine stain was becoming visible. Memories from that party came into my head, but before I could explore them there was one final thrust and it was over. Steve had his arms wrapped tightly around me, but a wiggle of my hips was sufficient to let him know that his clinch was no longer welcome. He had had what he came back for, although his coffee still sat untouched on the table to his right. Now it was time for him to go.

I stood up and helped the hem of my dress back down to where it had started the evening. I bent down and picked up my panties, noting that they had become a casualty of Steve's impatience. I turned towards him and forced a smile.

'I'll ring you later in the week, yeah?' he said, bringing his cup of now tepid coffee to his lips.

'Fine...I'll talk to you then' I replied, knowing that he would be unlikely to make the effort. He pecked me on the cheek as he brushed past me, but then he was gone without a second glance. It made me think that despite my best efforts, Steve had picked up on my lack of genuine enthusiasm.

I reached behind to unzip my dress and let it fall to the ground. I slipped out of my bra and made my way upstairs to the shower. The water felt good, re-invigorating me in a way that my recent exertions had failed to. I stood under the jet for several minutes, almost motionless, allowing the water to caress my body gently. After a while I opened my eyes and reached for the shampoo bottle from the ledge in front of me. I massaged the cream into my hair, closing my eyes again as my fingers slowly circled my scalp.

I had been surprised at the short length of time that it had taken for me to grow a pelt of hair again, which made me feel less conspicuous whenever I went out. Within a couple of months my hair had reached a reasonable length and it was just short, nothing unusual, nothing to get me a second glance anywhere. I had been asked on more than one occasion as to whether I was going to shave my head again, but I had not really given it serious thought. It was something that had happened 'in the moment' as somebody said to me, and that set of circumstances just had not re-presented themelves. I was busy at work, had a social life and had started to date again after several years of not having to go through that particular social dance.

I put my head under the water jet to rinse the suds from it, opening my eyes as I did so. I smiled as I looked down. My head wasn't the only place where I had allowed the hair to grow again. True, the triangle was trimmed to more of a rectangle these days, but it was a far cry from the 'nothing there' look that Emma had introduced me to. I wound a curl of coarse hair around my finger, marvelling at its length, before deciding that I had spent long enough in the shower and that it was time for a glass of wine.

Each morning for the next few days I sat in front of the dressing table mirror thinking that perhaps it was time for a haircut again. I had a little more shape put into my style about a month ago, but I was clear about not wanting to lose any of the length. There was something comforting about the feel of my hair brushing my neck.

It was Wednesday lunchtime when I checked my hair and make-up before going back into the office that I decided that I really should do something about my hair again. At my desk I looked through the Yellow Pages for the number of a nearby salon, but as I flicked from page to page, I thought back to last Friday and how I had felt more aroused by the thought of Emma's gentle touch on my fully clothed body than by the immediate physical motion of my lover inside me. I closed my eyes at my desk, intent on savouring the experience again. Standing there in front of Emma, bald and aroused. Uncertain. The phone rang to bring me back.

I put the phone down at the end of the call, but almost immediately picked it back up again. I looked down at the page to remind myself of the number to Emma's salon and dialled.

'Good afternoon, Reflections, how may I help you?'

'Hi, I'd like to make an appointment with Emma please'

'What is it for?'

'Sorry, a hair appointment'.

'Have you been to the salon before?'

'I have, but not for a while'.

'And what were you going to have done?'

'I don't know, I thought that Emma could help me decide.'

'And when were you thinking of?'

'An evening slot would probably best, if she's got one.'

'How about tomorrow at 5:15?'

'That's fine.'

'And the name is?'

'Julie Marston.'

'OK, Julie, we'll see you tomorrow at 5:15.'

'Ok, bye then.'

It was done. I tried to work, but I could already feel the butterflies in my stomach. I was grateful to be called into an impromtu meeting which took me to a respectable enough time to go home.

When I got home I decided on a self-indulgent soak in the bath. Eyes closed, I just lay there for over an hour until the water got too cool to be enjoyable any longer. Wrapped in a robe, I went into the bedroom to decide on an outfit for tomorrow. I had no idea what to expect, what I would do, what might happen. The dress was chosen without too much difficulty, but then it was a case of what I would wear underneath. I hadn't booked any intimate treatment, but that didn't mean that things wouldn't develop. In the end I decided that I was being a little silly and that I would put on whatever felt right in the morning.

Morning came and went. The afternoon came and seemed to want to outstay its welcome. Eventually the clock clicked round to 5pm and I reached for my coat. In a bid to try to calm my nerves I had perhaps left it a little late to leave, but my brisk strides got me to the salon almost exactly on time.

'Hi, I'm Julie, for Emma' I said to the receptionist a little breathlessly.

"Hi, Julie, let me take your coat' the receptionist said, stepping from behind the counter. She eased my coat down my arms and hung it on a coat-stand by the door. From another rack, she plucked a pale blue gown and held it out for me to slide over my dress. She reached up and fastened the gown, ensuring that it wasn't too tight by inserting her index finger and sliding it a couple of inches each way.

'Now, if you'd like to follow me...' she urged.

I followed her down the corridor, which appeared to be better lit than I remembered. She held open the door and allowed me to enter the room, closing the door gently behind her.

'Hello again' the voice chimed from the corner. 'Long time no see.'

I smiled a greeting.

'I didn't think that I would see you again' Emma said.

'You know how it is, too busy to attend to things that should be attended to.'

'Well, it looks like someone has attended to you, unless your hair naturally grows in layers.'

'I got someone to tidy it up a bit, that was all.'

'So what are we doing today?' Emma asked, motioning for me to take a seat in the styling chair.

'I only came in for a coffee and that girl wrapped me in this' I said in a bid to ease the tension I was feeling.

'She knows that I like my victims gift-wrapped' Emma smiled, as she moved towards the door. She left the room, which gave me a chance to look around. This part of the salon was just as I remembered it. Modern, neat, efficient.

I sensed Emma standing behind me and felt her touch my hair. I assumed that Emma was merely running her hands through the hair, using her years of experience to gauge the condition of it. Instead, I felt a cold,clammy sensation on my scalp.

"So, talk to me, how did you find it in the world of the bald?"

"I really didn't like the staring at first, but once people got used to it, it was fine. I even got picked up purely because I had a shaved head!'

'There you go, I knew you'd thank me!' Emma replied with a smile.

'Should I be asking what that gunk is that you're putting on me?'

'Don't worry your pretty little head about it, you know that you'll love it, whatever it is.'

'And if I don't?'

'There's not much chance of that. Now, tell me, how long did you stay shaved for?'

'I didn't actually keep it shaved. I just let it grow again.'

'You're no fun! I thought that you would have kept it for a while at least.'

'Work got busy, I started seeing someone who wasn't too keen on it, it was just easier to let it do its own thing, you know, the usual excuses.'

'So why come back now?'

'It just seemed like the right thing to do' I said, thoughts of Steve's thrusting coming back into my head.

I turned my attention to the mirror to see that my hair was now completely covered in what could only be colourant of some sort. Conditioner it most certainly was not. I wanted to know what it was, but knew that Emma wouldn't tell me. It wasn't what I had expected to happen, but I wasn't unhappy. It did mean, though, that I wasn't going to be bald again.

Emma moved away from me and I heard running water while Emma cleaned up whatever utensils she had used and also washed her hands.

'Now then, that gives us a few minutes. Would you like that coffee now?'

'Love one' I replied.

Emma walked across the room to a small alcove and busied herself with pouring coffee for us. She came back over to me and placed a cup on the shelf just in front of me. Instead of going back to where her own cup was still sitting, Emma moved behind me and undid the gown, careful not to disturb her earlier handiwork. Checking to see that I had not picked up my coffee cup, Emma slid the gown off me.

'Stand up for me' she said.

I slid out of the chair as I was asked, smoothing down the hem of my skirt as I did.

'Turn round.'

I turned as I was asked, facing the door to the salon, and felt Emma's finger brush my neck slightly. Then there was a small tug which could only mean one thing. I half-turned my head towards Emma, seeing a small re-assuring smile on Emma's face. Emma paused for a second, giving me the oppportunity to object, but seeing that none was going to come, she carried on dragging the zipper downwards. Reaching the bottom, Emma let go of the zipper and slid her hand inside the dress to caress the satin material, and then forced her hand further out so that the dress came off my shoulder.

'Is this what you wear to work everyday?' Emma asked, gently easing the dress down to reveal my black satin basque.
I love the way that the cups accentuated the curves of my breasts. The dress slid down to the floor. I stood there, hands by my sides as Emma gazed at me. I followed Emma's eyes as they took in the sheer stockings and tiny panties that completed the outfit.

Emma cupped my right breast gently and allowed her hand to trail downwards, maintaining the slightest touch with the fabric. Her index finger curled round as she moved it past the waistband of my panties and onto the curve of my pubic mound. I closed my eyes.

'Don't stop' I said quietly. The material gave no resistance as Emma's finger slipped easily into me. Emma knelt, dragging my panties slowly downwards, revealing my trimmed pubic hair. My eyes were still closed. She pressed her face into me, tasting me, savouring me and then as slowly as she had knelt, she stood up again. We kissed, I was intrigued by my own taste on Emma's lips. Emma broke away reluctantly and stroked my cheek with the backs of her fingers.

'We'll have to save the rest for later. We need to sort your hair out first.'

I looked sheepishly at Emma, suddenly feeling the moment slipping away.

'Can't it wait' I pleaded.

'I'll be as quick as I can. Then we'll go somewhere a bit more comfortable' she replied.

I knew that Emma was being sensible, but sensible wasn't actually what I wanted just then.

'Come on, over to the basin for me.'

I bent to pick up my dress and started to get it back to a shape that she could put it back on.

'Leave it. For me.' Emma said quietly.

I walked a little self-consciously over to the basin area and sat down. Emma put a towel around my shoulders and eased me backwards until my neck met the cold porcelain of the basin. I was all too aware that this position exposed me to the world and crossed my legs.

'As if that would make much difference if somebody came in' Emma said with a smile.

'Would you prefer me legs akimbo?' I asked.

'Whatever you're most comfortable with' Emma replied.

I stayed as I was, all too aware that I was dressed like a tart, semi-recumbent in a hairdressing salon, having just had my first sexual contact with another woman. I was also only too aware of the consequences that these musings would have for the chair that I was sitting on.

The water started to flow across my scalp as Emma gently washed off the dye that she had applied. In ordinary circumstances I would be excited to know what colour my hair was now, but I could only close my eyes and think about what she had done, my tongue brushing my lips in search of the last mingled traces of our juices. The sound of the water stopped and Emma eased me up, enveloping my head in a towel, rubbing gently to remove the excess water. She tapped me on the back to urge me to follow her over to the styling station.

'Ready?' Emma asked as she prepared to remove the towel.

I nodded, eager to concentrate on the mundane rather than on the sensations of the moment. Emma removed the towel slowly, allowing strands of vibrant, plum coloured hair to show themselves slowly as she did.

'Well, mousey, old Julie is no more' I said.

'What do you think?' Emma asked.

'It's a bit bright, but I think that this is more for you than for me, isn't it?'

Emma smiled and started to comb out the tousled strands of hair.

'Ok, so do you want to keep the length? Emma asked.

Before I could answer, I heard the sound of the clippers being turned on. Emma placed them to my forehead and pulled them backwards deliberately. I could see that they not only looked different from the last set that Emma had used on me, but that they had a different effect. These hadn't stripped me in the same way. They had left me with something like a couple of centimetres of hair, proud, standing up, pleased to be still there. The clippers came again. And again. Plum coloured strands tumbled down into my lap, contrasting brightly with my brown pubic hair. I smiled, wondering whether Emma would also colour those. One day perhaps, but it certainly wasn't going to happen today.

Emma worked swiftly and methodically, changing the plastic guard before moving on to the sides and back of my head. This was more in line with my expectations when I came in to the salon today. My respectable, professional tresses were falling. A little too willingly perhaps, I thought, but then I thought again. This was what I had come for. Much of what I had experienced today had been more about expectation than actual experience. I had been aroused before entering the salon and even if I had had nothing more than a conventional haircut, I would still have been more aroused than by being roughly bent over the sofa by Steve.

I admired Emma's professionalism and composure as she put the finishing touches to my haircut. I knew from my web research from all those months ago, that this would be called a 'high and tight' in a men's barbers. It was different, but not unpleasant. Probably not something that I would have asked for, but she could see that it suited me. I let my eyes wander downwards, from my almost masculine haircut to the ultra feminine form encased in black satin. I marvelled at the shape it gave me, wishing that I could look like this all the time. But then it wouldn't be special, if this became my everyday attire. What would I have to wear then to feel special? I had a feeling that Emma may well have some suggestions for me in due course.

The clippers fell silent and Emma took a step backwards to assess her work. She nodded briefly and turned the chair around so that I was facing her.

'Slide yourself towards me a bit' she urged me.

I smiled, thinking to myself that at present it was probably harder to stop myself from sliding.

The guardless clippers that Emma had just used to clean up my neck were now pressed to the rectangle of hair at my groin. I arched my back slightly to present myself to the blades at a better angle.

'We'll do the wax next time' Emma said to me, focussing intently on the course of the blades. I looked down as Emma worked, thinking to myself that I actually liked myself better with no hair down there. Despite all the years of hair and the past few months of crafted shapes, there was now no doubt in my mind that I was going to be smooth down there from now on.

I opened my legs in anticipation of any request from Emma, to ensure that she completed her task as quickly as she could. I was only too aware that I was becoming even wetter, but was unwilling, as well as powerless to do anything about it. Emma turned off the clippers, her work nearly done and wiped away any lingering curls with a towel. I was desperate to get away from the salon, but knew that the next few minutes spent with the foam and a razor would heighten the forthcoming experience for both of us. I sat there, head tipped back, immersed in the sensation of the razor gliding over my most private place.

Emma wiped the excess foam away with the towel and then brushed the area with her fingertips feeling for any patches that she had missed. There were none. She looked up at my face again.  She bent forward to take in my fragrance and ran the tip of her tongue gently along my petals, feeling them unfurl in response. I reached forward and pulled her head in to me, begging her not to stop. I was so close. Emma's tongue flicked and moved, she pulled back slightly, blowing gently before flicking her tongue again. My back arched and I gasped.

Emma moved upwards. I opened my eyes to look at her, close to me, smiling. I could see my own juices glistening on Emma's chin. We kissed. I tasted myself much more strongly now, my tongue exploring Emma's lips and mouth. I reached behind Emma's head, pulling her tighter, my hand moving through her hair. I clutched a handful and urged Emma's head away from my own.

'I can tell that you've done that before' I said with a smile.

'How dare you' Emma replied with mock indignation.

'But, much as I've enjoyed this, can we go somewhere a bit more comfortable?'

'My thoughts entirely' Emma replied, standing up.

I pressed down on the arms of the chair to get the leverage to stand. I looked down at my smooth mound and ran my hand gently across it.

'Makes you wonder why we grow hair there, doesn't it,' I said.

'Don't worry, I have a young lady called Annette who is going to make sure that you don't' Emma replied.

'That's not the one who was on reception when I came in is it?' I asked.

'The very same' Emma replied formally.

'She's not still here, is she?'

'Don't worry, she's very discrete. Why do you ask, anyway?'

'I was just thinking how sexy it would be to have you do that to me bald.'

'My, my, we've let the genie out of the bottle now, haven't we!' Emma exclaimed.

'It was just a thought' I said. 'You know, one of thoughts that you have when you're standing in a public place in your underwear, just after you've had most of your hair cut off and been brought to orgasm by a woman for the first time.'

'Ah, one of those sort of thoughts.'

I nodded. Emma thought for a moment.

'Well, I was sort of hoping that we could get out of here. It's alright for you, you've had your first, I'm standing here with a swamp in my knickers, quietly going mad. How about we save it for another time?'

'But you won't!' I objected.

'If I'm going to do it, I want to do it properly. Make a night of it, you know, not just whip it off,' Emma said.

I made a face at Emma, displaying my disappointment. I knew that Emma was right, it would be much better done at leisure, but that didn't make me want it any less.

'But you promise that you'll do it?'

Emma held out my dress to me. 'I'll do it' she promised 'now get some clothes on and lets get out of here.'

I slipped my dress back on and turned around to let Emma do the zipper for me. I turned to Emma and kissed her, allowing my hand to move up Emma's side to cup her breast.

'Time to go' Emma said.

That was nearly two weeks ago and we have spent as much time together as our respective jobs will allow.

The phone rang at my desk.

'Julie Marston' I said a little too abruptly.

'Guess who?' came the voice at the other end of the phone.

I looked around to see who else was in the office and was pleased to see that the only person there was engrossed in a phone call of his own.

'Hi, it's perhaps not the best time' I said.

'Oh, but it is' she said. 'Listen.'

There was silence for a moment and then I heard the unmistakable sound of electric clippers.

'What's so remarkable about that? Are they new?' I asked.

'Oh no, it's not what they are, it's what they're doing' she replied cryptically.

'Emma, can we talk later on, I'm a bit busy at the moment' I said.

'I don't think that this will wait. I'm going to put you on speaker phone, so just listen' she said.

I could hear the clippers clearly. Then they changed tone. Then I realised what was happening.

'Emma, no, don't' I said, eager that Brian didn't hear. I looked across at him, but he seemed to be still too involved in his own issues to worry about me.

'Emma...' I said more insistently '..I thought that you and I were going to..'

'I said that I would do it for you, and that's what I'm doing. You didn't say that you wanted to watch.'

I wanted to be with her when she did it, but I couldn't say anything, eager to conceal my agitation.

'Who's doing it?' I asked.

'Annette' she replied.

'But you're not..?' I asked, suddenly becoming worried.

'Don't worry your pretty little head about that. I gave up on that score a long time ago, didn't I Annette?'

'Oh, yes' came the disembodied voice.

I just sat there listening. The sensations of submitting to the clippers myself flooding back into my mind. Then it went quiet.

'There's probably not a lot more for you to listen to now' she said 'but don't worry, Annette will be very careful with me. She's never nicked anyone.'

'Emma' I said feebly.

'Annette will be here for a while longer if you want to come down after work. We could go for some dinner, or something.'

I looked at my watch. 'I'll be down in about an hour' I said, desperate to say more, but self-conscious because of Annette's presence.

'See you then' she called out and then the phone went dead.

I may just as well have gone as soon as I put the phone down as I really couldn't concentrate on anything. As soon as I could I closed down my PC and packed up for the afternoon.

'I'll see you on Monday, Brian' I said.

'See you' he grunted, not even bothering to look up.

The drive to the salon was a blur and when I got there I just barged in through the door. Annette was at reception. She smiled.

'Before you say anything, Julie, it was Emma's idea. I told her that you'd be mad.' As she finished she held something shiny up to me. A video camera.

'She said that you could watch it over and over again.'

'Where is she?' I asked.

She popped out, but she asked me to look after you while she was gone.

'Look after me?'

She started to walk down the hall and half-turned to beckon me to follow her.

'Did she tell you where she was going?' I asked, eager to see whether she had really done what I wanted or whether she had just been teasing me. Annette just carried on walking down the corridor and then she took a left turn into the salon. By the time I got there she was standing behind one of the styling chairs, clearly waiting for me to sit down. I hesitated and then sat down. She wrapped a gown around me and before I could get myself comfortable I heard the clippers start up. There was no preparation, no warning. The clippers were at my forehead and then they were ploughing backwards. I could see in the mirror that there was no guard on them and they were mercilessly revealing my scalp. I hadn't really had a chance to get to like the style that Emma had given me the last time she did my hair. I was getting used to it, but the colour was still a little odd. I certainly wouldn't have that problem now. Annette was sliding the clippers over my scalp quicker than I would have thought possible. I decided not to say anything else, just enjoy the moment while it lasted. It was obviously something that Emma had dreamt up and I decided just to go with it.

Annette gently moved my head as she needed to change the angle of attack, moving around me as she needed to. Her left hand stroked my head to check whether she had missed any patches. From what I could see, she hadn't. She had taken me by surprise when she started to shave my head, but what she did next really took my breath away.

Despite giving me the impression that she was having a final look at her handiwork while not bothering to switch off the clippers, she shaved off most of my right eyebrow with a simple flick of the wrist. Before I could react she had repeated the treatment on the left one, succeeding in removing a little more of that one.

'You've no idea what that'll do to Emma' she said.

There was nothing that I could do except allow her to carry on, hoping that she would make a good job of it if she didn't think that I was mad at her for what had just happened.

'You've no idea how much making up she's going to have to do for that. I know she told you to do it, but...' I said, not knowing quite what to make of the 'new' me.

I sat quietly while she finished my eyebrows and then lathered up my head. I closed my eyes, thinking of what was to come. Annette probably decided that she was in trouble, and that she should stay quiet, allowing me to set the tone. Just as she was making the final passes with the razor I opened my eyes again to see what I looked like, hairless and eyebrow-less. I was actually pleasantly surprised. I had perhaps allowed my imagination to run away with me while my eyes were shut. It wasn't as bad as I thought and at least it would present people with a challenge. Which would they comment on first? Shaved head or missing eyebrows?

'That's you' she said, patting me on the head.

'You know that I'm going to work on Emma so that I get my revenge, don't you?' I said, smiling. I reached forward and lifted a tress of her hair. 'There's no way that you're keeping all of this after what you've just done, young lady.'

She smiled.

'What is it with you two and hair?' she asked.

'Why don't you book yourself an appointment with Emma, I know she'd love to show you.'

'I might just do that' she replied.

Just then my mobile phone rang.

'Hello Emma' I said.

'How's my favourite lady then?' she asked.

'Have you got a lot of work to do!' I exclaimed.

Annette gestured to me that it was time for her to excuse herself and walked towards the door.

'Where are you anyway, you bitch?' I asked playfully.

'At home. In the bath. Waiting for you' she replied.

I pressed the button to end the call and smiled.

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