“Now that is an odd sigh to see” stated Amber to her friend Jenn. The two girls were enjoying lunch outside, at a café in the center of town. While talking to each other about the days’ events thus far, a woman walked by. She was beautiful and dressed in tight jeans and body hugging cut off t-shirt. The odd sight was not her jeans, or t-shirt, or any way she was dressed. The odd site was her hair, or lack of it. The woman was sporting a high and tight crewcut, which could just barely pass for a flat top. The back and sides were buzzed down to the skin as close as any set of clippers could take it. The top was barley 1/16” at the edges of the crown, increasing gradually to ½” at the front, which was standing straight up. The top in the middle appeared to be clipped as close as the sides and back, all the way to the crown. Amber was just shocked to see such a sight in person.
“Yea, that is a pretty drastic cut, but being a local fashion mag reporter, you must have seen such things before” replied Jenn.
Thinking about it, Amber stated”well, I have seen pictures of girls with buzzcuts, and even shaved heads, but never in person. Don’t forget, this is a relatively small town, and that sort of fashion is not considered fashion”, as she chuckled. However, deep inside, her mind was absolutely racing with what she saw. Immediately she thought to herself that she could never ever do something that drastic to her hair. She immediately followed that thought with the thought of how it would feel to have all of her long golden hair cut off so brutally short.
“Hey, I’ll catch up with you later Jenn. I feel a story here somewhere.”
Amber left some money to pay for her lunch and proceeded to follow the woman with the crewcut down the street. It wasn’t hard for Amber to trail someone without being noticed. She had become a pro at it working as a reporter for a local television station, covering all sorts of crime based stories. This tracking session is a lot safer, and should be a lot easier to do undetected she thought. But the longer she followed the woman, she could not stop looking at her hair. She was mesmerized by it for some reason. So many thoughts kept flooding through her mind. What was her hair like before she cut it? Did she have it done at a barber shop? What did her friends and family say? How did it feel to have actual barber type clippers shave her hair off? Did she think all the things I am thinking about another woman that she saw? WHY did she even do it? And then a very scary thought shook her to her bones. Will I ever have my hair like that?
Amber was a very pretty girl. She was 26 and very athletic. No smoking, junk food, not too much alcohol, no drugs. Her body was very fit and toned from daily exercise and body sculpting with a personal trainer, which was a gift from her mother. Her mother owns a dance studio, and always tried to keep her only child in the best shape she could. Amber appreciated that and did a lot of hard work to keep herself in the best shape possible. She stood 5’6” and weighed roughly 115lbs. She had beautiful crystal clear blue eyes.
More impressive than all of that was Amber’s hair. It was thick and straight golden blonde, with streaks of lighter blonde throughout, hanging in a V shape just above her firm and tight ass. It had always been her cherished blanket as a little girl, and an instant date magnet…for guys AND girls.
She could not understand the struggle inside of her to even “try” to understand why a female would want such a drastic short haircut. It was just unfathomable to her, which is why it intrigued her equally as much. One of Amber’s traits was always needing to figure something out. The why, the how, the what, was slowly being turned into “could I ever really do that???”
Amber quickly shook it off, came back to reality, and answered a loud “HELL NO” to herself in her head. She loved her hair. Many times throughout her life, she had been asked if she ever thought of cutting it. There was always someone that would say “I don’t know why you would bother with all of that hair. It would be much easier to take care of if it were shorter.” It made her queasy thinking of having her hair chopped off.
Amber noticed the woman stop into a barber shop, but not before looking back. “Oh shit, did she see me? Does she know I am following her?” Amber crept up close to the shop figuring she could just peek inside and see what was happening. It was an old style shop. Nothing fancy at all. Just a narrow shop with only two chairs and very plain décor. There was no one in the room. Amber wondered where the woman went, and she also wondered where the barber who works in the shop was. She was nervous simply being near a barber shop, never mind being inside one. Thoughts of hair being clipped, butchered, and shaved made her shiver and finger her own long golden hair. She was actually scared, which uncommon for Amber. She was always brave and sure of her surroundings, but now she was feeling anxiety and apprehension. Nevertheless, her inquisitive mind made her press on.
Amber approached the door and noticed it was a tad open. She went up to the door and took hold of the handle. Mind saying stop, but heart saying go, Amber stepped into the shop with hardly a sound. She let the door closed very softly so no one would hear her. Maybe she could just get close enough to the back room to hear someone speaking. She saw the chairs. They almost seemed to turn as she slowly crept by them, inviting her to come sit, or perhaps, telling her she had better come sit. The tools of a professional barber were all laid out on the shelf in front of the chairs at the base of the big mirror. Amber had thoughts racing in her mind. “How cruel it would be, to have to sit in one of these chairs in front of such a large mirror, only to see my hair hacked away at.” A shiver went down her spine.
As she inched closer to the door in the back of the room, she grabbed hold of her heart with anticipation. She had snuck around plenty of times to get a good story, some places even more dangerous than just a simple barber shop. Although that fact was true, she was never more scared. Just as she leaned in close to the door, it swung open swiftly. Startled amber screamed, and fell back. She tried to gain her balance but she ended up back pedaling and fell right into one of the barber chairs. The woman she was just following reach out to help, but missed.
“I am so sorry I startled you my dear” said the woman. “Please forgive my…surprise.”
Amber was now almost totally sprawled out in the chair holding on for dear life, heart pounding and breathing heavily. She started to rise from the chair but was stopped as the woman place a hand on Amber’s arm, easing her back down.
“Please, relax. Sit for a minute or two and catch your breath.” Her eyes were inviting…and intoxicating, almost to the point of hypnotizing.
“Well, thank you. But I don’t mean to intrude” replied Amber.
“You are not intruding at all. My name is Heather, and this is my shop. You are welcome to come anytime.” Amber was starting to feel a little less startled but still nervous being in a hair butcher shop. “May I ask what brought you here?”
Knowing she was spotted back outside the shop, Amber replied “I am a fashion magazine reporter and I wanted to see if I would like to ask you about your hair to be honest. It is quite short and I wanted to know if this is where you get it cut?”
“To be honest, no. I get it cut at a different barber shop which my friend operates. Here, I couldn’t do it myself, as I am the only person. I own and operate this shop alone.” She looked deep into Amber’s eyes and said “You should only know…how good it feels to have hair this short.”
I should, shouldn’t I thought Amber. Wait, what? Wait a minute. I could never get my hair cut like that. No way. Could I?
Heather could see the questioning going on in Amber’s mind. What Amber didn’t know, was that Heather held multiple Masters Degrees in psychology and was a master herself at persuasion. She knew that she had Amber in her control from the moment she saw her on the street. She knew that Amber’s gorgeous long blonde hair would be on her floor within the hour. The simple fact that Amber has not risen out of the char was evidence of that. Little did Amber know it, but she herself had already succumbed to the idea that she was getting a haircut, in a barber shop, as short as her barberette, today. Today, was time for Amber to be barbered.
“Ya know, I have wondered what it would be like to not have such long hair before. I just have always been too afraid to think of not having my hair long. I could never cut it, especially as short as yours.”
“Never say never” replied Heather. “It could be the most exciting thing you have ever done in your life.”
It could, couldn’t it Amber thought. I mean, maybe I have been wrong all along. It does take a long time to wash and dry and take care of. How silly of me to be afraid to even be in a place like this. The chair is actually very comfortable, and Heather is very nice, not to mention beautiful.
Without even asking, Heather slowly spun the chair around to face the mirror. Instead of asking Amber, she stated “you will look so good with your hair cut, and you will be so happy you finally did it and broke free from the chains of all that hair.”
While staring into the mirror at herself, Amber didn’t even notice that Heather was reaching for a black pinstriped, white cape. Amber felt intoxicated. Like all reason and control was slipping away. She had no inhibitions or fears or cares. Amber’s stare was broken by the cape being swung open in front of her and place loosely around her shoulders. Heather took a piece of tissue paper and wrapped it around amber’s neck. While trying to secure it, Amber herself assisted by holding her own hair up out of the way. Heather smiled and knew she had another victim. With the tissue now secured tightly around Amber’s neck, Heather now fastened the cape, leaned over and whispered into Amber’s ear “It is time for you to get a nice high and tight haircut sweetheart, just like mine. I know you will enjoy this.”
Paralyzed with fear, apprehension, doubt…and excitement, Amber could only watch as Heather started combing her hair. With her hair all straightened out, her barber grabbed her scissors with her right hand, and grabbed a handful of hair on the right side of Amber’s head and started cutting slowly. Amber’s eyes were unblinking and watching in amazement as she saw her most prized possession start to drop slowly away. Heather was careful to go slowly so Amber could savor the experience and soak it all in. She continued cutting midway past Amber’s ear until all she held was severed. She took the 30” fistful of long golden hair and slowly let it go in front of Amber’s face, making it look as if it were raining golden thread. There will be no saving any hair today. Heather wanted Amber to feel and see the loss, experience the brutality having her hair severely chopped off, right in front of her eyes, and there was nothing she could do about it. Heather continued cutting in back, again holding a handful to be released for Amber to watch.
As she finished dropping the second mass of Amber’s hair in front of her eyes, she spoke words that she knew would wake Amber from her amazed and excited state. Heather wanted her to come back to the reality of what was now happening to her, and feel the sorrow and loss. She wanted her to feel the helplessness of fixing the situation and the eventual submittal to such a drastic and brutal haircut, actually happening to her.
“It’s a shame to lose all of this beautiful and shiny golden blonde hair. I have to admit I am surprised you wanted me to do this to you. You had such beautiful hair darling.”
Had? Amber thought to herself. HAD?? Oh my God. What am I doing? Why haven’t I protested what is going on??? Why have I not said anything? Oh my God, my hair is being sliced away from me. My beautiful hair! I actually am allowing this. What the hell is wrong with me? What is everyone going to say? My boyfriend is going to kill me. My mother is going to cry. At that thought, Amber herself started to well up, and tears started forming in the corners of her eyes. She knew it was way too late. She felt defeated. Her barber had won without even having to fight. Amber looked down into her lap to see all of her long hair that was no longer a part of her. As she looked down, Heather continued cutting her hair off around her head, dropping rainfalls of Amber’s hair to her lap, spilling over onto the floor below.
All my hair, chopped off and now laying on a barber shop floor below me. I feel sick, she thought. Before she could regain any strength to look up, Heather came around to her right side again, only this time she was putting clippers to life. The sound of the machinery made Amber’s tears stronger. She was so beaten and shocked, that she did not put up any fight at all as the hair hungry machine grew louder in her ear. Heather did not have any hair pins, so she simply held up what was left of Amber’s hair and started to buzz from her temple up to near the top of her head. 6” pieces of hair fell onto Amber’s shoulders, sliding down the cape. Heather finished the right side and continued in back.
She left Amber with a basic bob style, which was clippercut all the way to the top underneath. Heather turned the chair away from the mirror knowing that Amber was defeated, and need not watch anymore. She took Amber’s earrings off and combed her hair to ready herself for the rest of the barbering.
Heather continued to use scissors at this point, playing with Amber’s hair. Making a shorter and shorter bob cut.
Finally, Heather put her hand on the back of Amber’s head and tilted it forward. She brought the clippers to the back of her head and proceeded to finish clipping off Amber’s hair so it would all fall right in front of her eyes. Amber watched the remnants of her once beautiful mane fall in front of her face. Heather ran the clippers all over her head to make sure she got everything, saying “I have changed my mind, I am going to just give you a basic military boot camp crewcut dearie.”
The barbering was complete. Heather brushed the stray clippings off of Ambers newly exposed ears and neck. Amber felt cold. She felt like a prisoner. She felt less than she was. She was. As she walked over her hair to the door completely somber and defeated, Heather said…
“Now I know what you would do for a story”
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