HairSnip.com

You think that you know someone. And then you realise how wrong you were.

I had almost seven months to get to know Jason. I mean really know him. Or so I thought.

It's true that not all of what I was discovering was to my liking, but it was stuff that I thought I could work on. I just put it down to habits that he had formed in previous relationships, but habits could be broken. He did appear to be coming round to my way of thinking in the bedroom department which is where most of my objections lay. He was starting to learn that it wasn't all about him and that there were things that I liked to do and wanted to do, happy as I was at first to try to please him. He got very upset if I didn't immediately agree to what he wanted, sullen, withdrawn for days until I conceded just to restore the peace. I should have known then that there was no future in our relationship, but I stuck around for another couple of months.

After one of our 'episodes', Jason started to reveal the side that he had kept so well hidden. He said that as a 'peace offering' he wanted me to have my hair cut. There was so much that I found wrong with this. Why was it down to me to make a peace offering?  Why did either of us need to make a gesture? Why could we not just talk about the problem and make sure that we understood each other better? Why did he want me to cut my hair anyway? Besides, I was happy with my hair the way it was. Collar-length, blonde, straight most of the time, except when I was in a desperate hurry, at which time it usually developed an infuriating kink.

Needless to say, my refusal did not go down well and Jason left for a business trip without saying goodbye. That did have the benefit of allowing a cooling-off period and also allowed me the time to turn detective. Jason hadn't taken his laptop with him on this particulr trip and was soon betrayed by his careless browser habits. I eagerly followed the trail that he left. It was a trail that mapped out where our relationship was likely to go, getting progressively kinkier, and by the looks of it, more and more painful for me.

It was several hours before the trail led me to the wardrobe. I packed as much into my suitcase as I could, grateful all the time for the poor state of the housing market which had meant that my own apartment had still not sold. What I had started to think of as a mill-stone was now my safe-haven. I had plenty of time over the next day or so to move out completely and to re-create my life back in my own flat. It might have been going too far, but I even changed the lock on my front door, just in case there was even more bubbling under with Jason than I suspected. I left a note for him on his kitchen table, thanking him for the good times that we had had together and explaining that it was over. As I closed his door for the last time, I hoped that there would be a clean break.

That was three months ago and I think that I probably was a bit hard on Jason in all fairness. He hasn't tried to get in touch and he has been kind enough to forward on some of my mail. At first I went over and over as much of our relationship as I could, looking for warning signs that I had missed, looking for anything that could have got me out of there sooner, for my benefit and for his. I eventually came to the conclusion that it wasn't his unusual interests that were the problem, so much as his selfishness. It was all about him and if he had not had such a controlling streak things could have been different, I'm sure.

After all, you can't choose what turns you on and I'm sure he is at a loss to explain why he is drawn to the things that I found on his computer. True, there were a few of the more extreme s&m things there that disturbed me, but if he'd asked if I was up for a bit of spanking, I would have agreed just to see what it was like. It might have been a bit sore for a while, but I couldn't see any potential for lasting damage. As for the stuff with whips and canes, I would prefer to think that it was there out of curiosity rather than as a mainstay of his leisure pursuits. After all, he had asked me to cut my hair, but he had never struck me, even in the heat of passion. There was always the possibility though that he would eventually go down the s&m route and I really don't think that I could have stayed around if he had brought that out into the open.

So, what else have I been doing for the past three months? Curiously enough, I have wandered down Jason's trail more and more. Before I left, I made a note of some of the sites that he visited and during a couple of particularly introspective sessions, I fired up my laptop and had a better look than I did before I left his flat. Then there just seemed to be so many avenues to explore and I spent more and more time looking. In a way, I have to thank Jason, as he opened me up to the possibility of doing things that I never would have thought about, and I don't just mean being spanked! I'm 37 years old and single (once divorced, several times split-up) and for me it's pretty much a case of 'now or never.'

I probably should have sat down with a girlfriend and talked things through, but for some reason I just didn't want to. In the end, I found it much easier to unburden myself on a complete stranger in the unlikeliest of places. For me, anyway.

I had been window shopping in town and as I came out of a small, side-street boutique, I saw a tattoo and piercing parlour. I have only ever had my ears pierced and never really considered getting anything beyond the basic hole in each lobe. I've seen plenty of pierced belly-buttons at the gym and on the street, but never thought about getting mine done. None of my boyfriends had ever suggested body piercing and Jason certainly never had. His browser history, however, suggested that body-piercing was a subject that had crossed his mind more than once.

I looked through the various photographs in the window, pictures of tattoos and piercings, on males and females and without another thought, I went in. I wanted to see what it looked like, but the idea of some big, hairy biker-type coming anywhere near me with a needle was a no-no. I was pleasantly surprised. The big, hairy biker-type was busy with another client, so I was welcomed by his female colleague. Not as big, certainly not as hairy, and attractive in a sort of exotic way. She had taken full advantage of the staff discount on body art and could be counted as a walking advertisement for the business. All topped off with a multi-coloured, choppy haircut.

Her speaking voice surprised me, gentle, well-mannered, educated. It certainly was a case of don't judge a book by its cover. 

'Hi, I'm Chrissy, what can I do for you?' she asked simply.

'Er, I'm just curious' I replied.

'About anything in particular?' she asked.

I wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic and was on the point of replying "about the meaning of Life", when I thought better of it.

'I was thinking of maybe getting my belly-button pierced' I said.

She nodded and then her reply almost knocked me off my feet.

'If you don't mind me saying, you should definitely get those done' she said with a nod towards my chest.

'You mean..?'

'You won't believe the fun you can have with them' she said 'or your other half. Belly-buttons are for decoration, nipples are for friends!' she added with a smile.

'Doesn't it hurt?'

'No more than any other piercing really and it soon fades. Best thing I ever did' she explained.

'I thought I was being adventurous getting my belly-button done.'

'Oh no, you're well inside conventional territory there!'

I paused for a while. 'Really?' I asked eventually.

'Slip your shirt off and I'll show you some pieces to give you an idea' she offered. 

There was no harm in seeing what was on offer, I thought as I slipped my shirt off.

She started by showing me a tray of belly-button jewellery and she held a couple of items in place while I looked at myself in the mirror. I quite liked the way they looked, but was a little disturbed by the size of some of them.

She moved to another display case and came back with a tray full of assorted bars and hoops. 

'You'll get a better idea if you slip that off' she said with a smile, indicating my bra.

I had wondered how long it would take her to move on to her specialist subject.

I reached behind my back and undid the clasp, easing myself out of it as if it was my first time with a new lover.

'My, weren't you at the front of the queue when they were dishing those out!' she said.

I blushed slightly, not expecting such a masculine comment from her, but quietly pleased at the admiring glance at my unfettered boobs.

'I've never had any complaints' I retorted.

She picked up a hoop from the tray and held it to my left nipple, the merest brushing of her fingertip enough to send a tingle through me. She didn't like what she saw and swapped the hoop for a slightly larger one.

'You can handle a bigger one' she said with a smile. She held the hoop pressed against the tip of my nipple for a moment and then turned to the tray again, turning back towards me to hold its twin. She moved behind me and reached around to hold a hoop against each of my nipples.

'I thought you just get one done?' I queried.

'The only rule is that there are no rules. Having both done means that you can string a chain between them. It looks fabulous, believe me' she said with a twinkle in her eye.

'I don't know, I'm not sure that I can carry it off like you can' I said nervously.

'Don't be daft, just think of them as the icing on the cake and your cakes are way better than mine. I don't usually try to talk people into things that they don't want, but I'm going to make an exception with you. You absolutely must get them done. Forget the belly button if you want, but you must do these' she said, cupping the undersides of my breasts gently.

I blushed again, not knowing what to do. It wasn't as if I had anyone in mind who would benefit from them. It would be for me and me alone at the moment.

Chrissy ignored my self-doubt and busied herself with the various instruments of torture that were the tools of her trade.

'It looks like you've decided for me then' I said.

She nodded and motioned to me to sit on the treatment table.

I was eager for any distraction at that point and decided to steer the conversation away from anything to do with needles and pain.

'I hope you don't mind me asking, but where do you get your hair done?' I asked after a moment.

She smiled, still occupied with the task at hand.

'Sometimes I do it myself, sometimes a friend does it. Why? Are you thinking of a makeover?'

'Maybe' I answered cryptically and then thought that I may as well be a little more forthcoming. 'My ex wanted me to cut my hair. Then I found out that he was into women with shaved heads or skinheads, that sort of thing'.

'Oh, he was one of those' she commented.

'You sound like you've come across someone like that before.'

'You meet all sorts in this line of work, goes with the territory. They tend to be harmless' she replied.

'I'm just not sure what it was that he liked about it, was it the actual style or the process or what?'

'Could be either or both, you'd have to ask him' she replied.

She stopped talking in order to concentate on what she was doing, but hopefully you won't mind if I gloss over the next few minutes.

The pain wasn't actually as bad as I had anticipated and there I was, the owner of a rather large bar in each nipple and a cute little ring in my belly button. I looked down to assess the changed landscape and marvelled at the thought of going about my conventional life knowing that underneath I was sporting intimate jewellery.

Chrissy smiled at me looking at myself in the mirror. 

'They look better than I had hoped. Really sexy.' she said.

'Thank you' I replied, picking up my bra. I winced slightly as I put it on, but that was to be expected. She gift wrapped the rings we had chosen and advised me on care for my piercings in the coming days and when I could swap the bars for the rings.

'So, are you going to go for it?' Chrissy asked.

I looked at her quizically.

'Getting scalped' she said with a smile.

'Oh that!' I said,laughing.

'He's got you thinking about it hasn't he?'

'He's got me thinking about a change, but that's about it.' I replied.

'I think it's more than that. He's got you wondering what it's all about, how it could possibly turn someone on.'

'Maybe' I replied after a moment.

'I bet a few months ago you never imagined having your nipples pierced, did you, and here you are?'

'Here I am' I mimicked.

'So let's say I have some clippers in that drawer over there, will you sit in the chair for me?'

'Have you?' I asked hesitantly.

'Sit down and find out' she retorted.

I reached up and touched my hair. I had been fine talking about it, but now there was a danger of something actually happening it was totally different.

'I think I've done enough for one day' was the best I could come up with in the end.

'You should strike while the iron's hot and all those other cliches' she said with a smile. She motioned to me to sit down again. I looked at the chair.

'I don't think I can' I said weakly.

'Go on, it won't hurt' she urged.

'What are you going to do?' I asked, still standing up as straight as I could.

'You want to get your head shaved, I'm going to do it for you' she said looking me straight in the eye.

'I don't think that I did say that I wanted to shave my head, did I?' I said.

'Not in so many words, but I think that's what you wanted to do ever since you found that stuff on your ex's computer. Otherwise why keep thinking about it, why tell me about it?'

'There's a difference between being interested and actually doing it' I said.

'There's not much I can say is there. YOu want to do it, I'll do it for you, that's all I'm saying.'

'Just like that?'

'Just like that' she confirmed.

'And you've really got clippers in that drawer?'

She nodded. 

I sat down.

Chrissy looked at me and then smiled.

'I knew you would' she said.

I sat there silently, waiting. She didn't move from where she was standing.

After a moment, she broke the silence.

'I haven't got any' she said.

I looked at her.

'I lied, I haven't got any clippers' she said.

I'm not sure what I felt at that moment. Relief, disappointment?

'You tease!' I exclaimed.

'It proved a point though, didn't it?' she replied.

'Which is?'

'You want to do it' she said.

I shrugged my shoulders.

'Sitting on a chair and actually letting you cut my hair are two different things' I replied.

'I suppose they are' she said. 'Anyway, the question is what are you going to do about it?'

'I'll just have to make do with your other handiwork for now' I replied.

'You could always call in somewhere on your way home' Chrissy suggested as I stood up.

'No, I'll think about it for a bit' I said, digging in my bag for my purse.

'From what you've told me, you've been thinking about it ever since you did your little spying mission.

'You're probably right' I said, starting to get a little bit irritated. I just wanted to get home so that I could take my bra off and relieve the pressure on my nipples.

Chrissy must have picked up on the slightly snippy tone in my voice as she took my money in silence. She handed me my change and one of her business cards.

'Pop in and show me if you do it, I'd love to see' she said.

'I will' I confirmed, knowing that I wouldn't.

That was almost a month ago. I had walked out of the piercing studio with the intention of forgetting about Chrissy and her badgering, but the difficulty was that every time I undressed I was reminded of my visit to her. At first it was a painful reminder, but the tenderness has gone now and I delight in the sight of my new jewellery. When I went swimming for the first time with my new 'bits' I could see the over-long glances at my chest that some of the other swimmers made. It wasn't just the guys either. When I first put the costume on, there was barely any indication of my little secret, but once wet, the outline of the rings was there for all to see. I even had one woman in the changing rooms asking me where I had got them done!

The rings lead me to think of Chrissy and that leads me to think of what I found on Jason's computer. Short hair, dyed hair, no hair. Chrissy's challenge to sit in the chair when I thought she was serious. It was all vivid.

The amount of time I spent thinking about it convinced me that I was going to do something eventually, so I decided that I may as well just get on with it. The question was what 'it' was.

Without asking Jason, I didn't really know whether there was as much of a thrill in a woman changing her colour as in getting her hair cut. Given the rarity of women with shaved heads, I had to make the assumption that that was the ultimate thrill for him and others of his persuasion. But was there a reasonable thrill in colouring? 

I have never coloured my hair as I have always thought that once you go down that road, you are in for a long ride and I have never seen the point. Now I have a point, I thought. A bit of exploration, a bit of experimentation. Then I stumbled on the answer to my seemingly endless pondering and prevarication.

I popped into town to do some shopping and while I was walking to the main shops I passed a hairdresser's with a sign in the window. 'Models wanted. Colour and cut.' it said. It struck me in an instant. I could model for them, relinquish control and just go with whatever they needed to work on. No more need to make my own decision, no need to wonder about Jason's interest in cutting, colouring or anything else. After so long, I was surprised at how calm I was when I walked in.

'Hi, I saw your sign about models' I said to the receptionist.

'Hi' she replied 'I'm sorry, but that sign should have come out of the window last week. One of the girls needed people for an exam, but she's done it now.'

'Never mind, it was just a thought' I said, my disappointment evident.

'I can fit you in with someone else, it just won't be model prices, that's all' she said in a bid to salvage something for the salon.

I pondered for a moment. The model scenario would have been ideal, as it would have been a way to peer over the threshhold into the secret world that Jason sometimes inhabited, but that route was now closed. I could turn around and leave or I could try a different way in, I thought, chastising myself for referring to it as anything to do with Jason. He clearly wasn't the only one in it, and he didn't invent it, so why should I associate it just with him? I needed to find another way to refer to it, but that would have to wait.

'That's fine, when can you fit me in?' I said, pleased with my resolve.

'The owner's free now, if you didn't want to wait' she replied.

It wasn't that I didn't want to wait, I couldn't wait, as during that briefest of exchanges I had decided to forget about colour experimentation and go for broke. Images of stubbled and shaved women filled my head. They were no longer associated with Jason's grubbier interests, they were just there, different, elegant and exquisite.

'Now would be great' I said enthusiastically.

'Shall I put you in for a colour and a cut?' she asked.

'It'll be just a cut' I replied matter-of-factly.

I thought of all the times that I had been in a hairdressing salon and I had never felt like this. It wasn't a chore, there was nowhere that I would rather be at that moment, I was excited. I'm not even sure that I was nervous, not in the usual sort of way. If anything, it was the sort of nervousness, the sort of curiosity that you experience with a new partner. Wondering about the whole experience, how it would feel, how it would be different from other times. I was really starting to see why Jason was drawn to this world.

My musing was interrupted by the receptionist offering to lead me through to the salon proper. She led me towards a smiling, attractive woman, probably in her forties, immaculate in a white tunic. Her hair was collar-length and sculpted, a rich mahogany in colour.

'Hi, I'm Helen' she said.

'Jo' I replied.

'Have a seat Jo and we'll have a chat about what we can do for you today' she said.

I explained that I wanted to go short, all thought of colours having been left in reception.

'So how short were you thinking?' the stylist asked, reaching to run her fingers through my hair.

All the time that I had spent looking at various websites meant that I was well-versed in clipper settings and roughly how short they would cut, so I was able to sound quite clear and confident with my instruction, or so I thought.

'I thought I'd see what three or four looked like and then take it from there' I replied.

'Do you mean three or four inches off or three or four inches left?' she asked.

I paused.

'I actually meant clipper lengths' I replied, looking at her intently to see her reaction.

She nodded pensively and then raised an eyebrow.

'So when you said short you meant short!' she said after a moment. 'I'm sure there's a story in there somewhere'

'I had an ex-boyfriend who was into really short hair.'

'An ex-boyfriend?' she queried, with the emphasis on the 'ex'.

'Let's just say he got me thinking.' I replied as she fastened a pretty pink cape around my neck.

'You see quite a few models and actresses go really short these days, and even a 'Britney' doesn't seem out of the ordinary anymore' Helen said.

'I think my boyfriend was aiming for the 'Britney' end of the scale really' I added, warming to Helen and her friendly approach.

'And even though you're not together now, you're still going to give it a go?'

'As you say, there seems to be loads of women buzzing their heads just recently. The internet is full of them' I expanded and then wondered whether that was too much information. I didn't want to be giving my secret away.

'You do see pictures in the fashion magazines and it makes you wonder how it would feel to actually do it yourself' Helen said. 

'Looks like I'm about to find out' I said as I watched Helen picked up a pair of clippers and inspect them. She took the guard off and scrutinised it.

'Shall we go to a four all over and than see where we go from there?' she asked. I must admit that she did seem rather keen on the idea now that we had had our little 'ice-breaker' chat.

'Go for it' I urged. As much as talking about getting buzzed was starting to give me a lovely warm feeling, I didn't think that it would compare with actually feeling my hair start to fall. I had read many stories about buzzing and shaving over the past few weeks, but the effect of those had already been surpassed by talking to Helen just now, so I just wanted to take things that little bit farther.

I trembled involuntarily as the clippers were touched to my hairline and with barely a pause, Helen had made the first cut. She was obviously determined that I wasn't going to have a chance to back out and whilst I would probably have wanted to prepare myself a little more and to have had a chance to savour the moment, I actually found Helen's approach quite exciting. Had I stumbled upon a fellow visitor to Jason's world?

'I think you're determined to enjoy this, aren't you?' I asked.

'I don't get the chance every day, so I'm going to make the most of it!' she said without a break in her rhythm.

The clippers hummed softly rather than buzzing angrily as some I had heard in the little movies that I had watched on various sites. It was all very sedate and almost as if I was watching somebody else getting their hair shorn. The sensations that I was experiencing were ones that I would normally associate with other more intimate activities and I wondered whether I was alone in feeling something a little more than you would expect to feel in a salon. The only slight regret that I had was that this was a spur of the moment thing and that I should have dressed slightly differently. The experience would have been complete if I had gone bra-less and been able to have a sneaky twirl of my 'secret' rings while Helen was clippering me. I couldn't help smiling at the thought.

'Enjoying yourself?' Helen asked.

'Mmm, definitely' I said.

She joined me in a smile as she cleared away the last long tresses and started to go over my head to make sure that everything was the same length. In another couple of minutes, the humming stopped and there I was, surrounded by piles of my hair, on my lap and on the floor, with my very own 'number four'. 

It looked strange, but in an unfamiliar way rather than a weird way. I looked at myself in the mirror, front and sideways. Helen helpfully showed me the back in a mirror so that I could appreciate myself from all angles.

'What now?'

Helen asked.

'Three?' I ventured.

'I think you could go to a two straight off' she said, looking at me in the mirror. Her left hand rubbed my newly-shorn scalp.

'You're a frustrated barber, aren't you really!' I exclaimed as the clippers came back to life. I hadn't replied to her question, but they were at my forehead and moving without even the slight pause from before. The difference betweeen the four and what I assumed had to be the two was quite striking. I peered into the mirror to take it in. The clippers stopped suddenly. 

Helen turned the chair slightly so that I could see her and I followed her line of sight down to the clippers. She eased the guard off with her left hand.

'Do you want to hold on to that for me?' she asked.

I looked down at it.

'You could just put it on the shelf if you want' I replied after a moment. 

With a different stylist I may well have stopped at the 'four', but there was something about Helen and the way that she was entering into the spirit of things that made the whole experience slightly different. There was a hint of excitement in the air and it wasn't all coming from me. I was starting to suspect that this was something special for her too.

She didn't need telling twice and in a flash, there was a strip of my scalp that was hairless. She lifted the clippers clear for a second and touched the denuded skin with the fingertips of her free hand. Without a comment, she carried on, each stroke of the clippers revealing more and more of my scalp. As far as I was concerned, the only things that existed were in the immediate vicinity of that styling chair. It was just me and Helen and the clippers. I closed my eyes as Helen worked in silence.  The clippers moved over my head, revealing as they went. Helen's fingers followed, probably in a professional manner, but possibly not!

Silence returned. Helen held my bald head in her hands, the lightest of pressure from her fingers at each side.

'You can look now' she said.

'I was savouring it, it's not every day I do this, you know!' I said.

'It might have to be if you're going to stay like this' she replied.

'It might sound silly, but I haven't actually thought about that. I've been focussing on whether I should cut my hair or not and didn't actually think that I would come this far' I said.

'So why did you?' she asked, brushing stray hairs from my shoulders.

'It just seemed right once I sat down' I replied. That was true, but the more I thought about it, the more I decided that Helen had played a big part in where I had ended up.

'And I think that you egged me on a bit' I added as she freed me from the cape.

'Me?' she questioned, pointing at her chest.

'I don't know that I would have gone this far if it hadn't been for your enthusiasm.' I said as I stood up.

Her expression became serious.

'Don't worry, I'm glad I did it and I'm glad you enjoyed helping me' I said.

'So no lawyers?' she asked with a smile.

'Definitely no lawyers' I said. 

'That's good because while I was shaving you I was thinking about going for the clippers myself.'

'Really!' I exclaimed.

'I found some of those articles fascinating, but it never struck me to make the obvious next step. Now you're here, you look wonderful, so why not?'

'I don't suppose that the boss will say too much about it!' I exclaimed.

'That's the beauty of having your own business!' she confirmed.

'So are you going all the way?'

'I'm not sure, I was thinking "four" and then I thought "three" as I got more into it. The longer I worked, the more adventurous I was getting!'

'Perhaps you should go over mine again and see where that leads you' I suggested with a smile.

'I was going to say that we should razor shave you if we're going to do it properly.'

I had come in for a makeover and here I was about to be shaved smooth. It was farther than I had intended to go and perhaps I had been caught up in the moment, but I wasn't unhappy about it. How many times in my life had I said "just a goodnight kiss" to someone and then ended up in bed with them. Was I easy or just determined to experience things to the max, I wondered?

'Fine' I replied, 'but I'd rather have it done by a fellow convert.'

'I'd need to have a look at the appointment book' she said with a smile and walked off towards reception. While she was gone, I shamelessly looked at myself in the mirror. The more I looked, the more I liked what I saw. After what must have been a minute or so, Helen came back into the room, followed by a younger woman who smiled at me, trying to strike a balance between an appreciative glance and a stare.

'You're sure, Helen?' she asked.

'Never more so, Clare' she replied.

Clare put a cape around Helen while I took a couple of steps back, out of the way, but still perfectly positioned to see all the action. Try as I might to keep him out, Jason popped into my head again. What he would give to see what was happening here today? I was finding it a complete turn-on, so I could only imagine what would be going on in his trousers if he were here.

'You're sure you want to go straight to a three?' Clare asked Helen, ignoring me completely.

'Yes,.. no' Helen replied.

'No?'

'Start with a two' Helen said after a moment.

Clare paused and then picked up a guard from the shelf and attached it to the clippers that Helen had just used on me.

'You're the boss' she said and flicked the switch.

I could see Helen close her eyes as the clippers approached her forehead. Clare hesitated for a moment and then she made her move. Helen's immaculate hair started to fall in thick clumps as Clare swept the blades over her head. What was a beautifully styled, perfectly conditioned advertisement for her salon was now falling away rapidly. I watched intently, alternating between the falling tresses and the serene expression on Helen's face. I hadn't had the chance to see myself with a "number two" all over as Helen had taken the guard off after only a couple of passes, but I quite liked the effect. Admittedly Helen's hair was darker than my own and possibly a little thicker too, but she looked more attractive as more of her hair fell. She was left with a suede-like covering all over her head in a matter of minutes. As Clare shut off the clippers, Helen opened her eyes. It took a moment for her to assess her new look, but her serene expression was soon replaced with a beaming smile. She reached up to her head and rubbed gently.

'Oh Clare, you've got to do this!' she said.

Clare said nothing.

'You look beautiful' I said to deflect attention away from the slightly uncomfortable Clare.

'Thank you' Helen replied. She stood up and Clare undid the gown from her as the last clumps of Helen's hair fell from her lap to the floor.

Clare went over to hang the gown up and left our part of the salon.

'I think she's a bit stunned that I just did that. She's the one who spent hours making sure that I looked perfect and now I've just had her clipper it all off!' she laughed.

'It really suits you, you look stunning' I told her.

'Now will you let me shave you?' she asked.

I nodded and sat back down in the seat. She draped a towel around my shoulders, but didn't bother with a gown. She found a can of shaving foam in a cupboard and covered my scalp with lather. I closed my eyes as she started to shave.

'You must recommend some of those websites so that I can see what you've been looking at' she said.

'I will, but I think you'll find that it's a bigger thrill doing it yourself.'

'Perhaps they'll give me the nudge to do this too' she replied.

'You must remind me to give you another recommendation before I leave' I said.

'Okay' she said slowly, intrigued.

The sensations of being shaved were wonderful and much as I wanted to talk to Helen, I just wanted to savour what was happening. I think that Helen understood and completed her task in silence. She swathed my head in a towel and rubbed gently to remove any last traces of shaving cream and then dramatically she unveiled me. To look at, it wasn't that different from before, but the difference was to the touch. It was gorgeous.

'I think that just feeling what you've just done to me will be enough to make you want to do it yourself' I said.

'I think you're probably right' she replied.

I took one last look in the mirror and then stood up. 

'Can't sit here all day!' I said.

Helen walked ahead of me to reception and I'm sure that she could sense my admiring looks. We didn't pass any of the other staff, so Helen would no doubt have to go into the staff-room to reveal her striking new look.

As I dug around in my purse for some cash, I asked her for her email address to forward a few links to her so that she could explore her new discovery a little more. Cash wasn't all that I was looking for in the depths of my bag. Then I found it.

I held the card out to her.

'Here's the other part of the experience' I said, passing Chrissy's card to her. She looked at it quizically. I leant forward so as not to be overheard.

'Pierced nipples' I whispered conspiritorially.

'You haven't..?'

'They're wonderful!' I confirmed with the broadest smile.

'Both?'

I nodded as I handed over the money for my haircut.

'I may have to think about that a bit harder' she said, returning my smile.

'It's one of those things best done rather than thought about too much' I said, holding my hand out for her business card which had just had her email address scribbled on the back.

'No one else uses this address do they?' I asked.

'Just me' she said with a wink.

'I'll drop you a line later' I said. 'Thanks so much!'

'What for?' she asked.

'Making it special' I replied and turned for the door.

I abandoned any thoughts that I had about shopping and went straight home. I paused only to pour myself a glass of wine and then headed for the shower where I lingered for an age. I marvelled at the feeling of my wet scalp, slick with lather. I was even worse once I got out and stood in front of the mirror, still dripping. I stood and smiled, not believing that the reflection was me. The former image of the well-groomed professional was gone. Standing there like that there could be no doubt; smooth head, smooth mound, nipples held erect by piercings, the old me was gone, possibly never to be found.

It amused me when I went to work the following Monday and people admired me for being so daring by shaving my head. Little did they know what else I had done. That was part of the thrill for me; they thought that I had exposed myself completely to them, but in reality I was saving the best for my own pleasure.

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