H a i r c u t S t o r i e s
The Perm
story written and contributed by
Sabrina S.
| We went through the hair care section. Holly
selected a home perm, and I grabbed a blonding kit. Anxious to try them
out, we rushed straight back to the flat. Holly ripped open the home perm
and read the instructions. “Works best on short hair. What d’you think,
Jane? Should I try it as my hair is, or do you want to cut it off like
yours, only shorter?” I jumped. “Me? Cut your hair?” I’d never cut hair
in my life. I read the instructions too. Looked like I’d be giving Hol
a haircut, as the perm was not guaranteed to work on long hair. “If you
cut it straight, it might turn out sort of wedge shaped like that girl
who walked past," Holly mused, holding up her hair in front of the mirror.
“I guess the perm would make it less oily, too. Let’s do it, Jane!” She
grabbed a towel, her comb, and the pair of scissors from her desk, and
dragged a chair into the tiny bathroom. “Are you sure?” I said nervously.
Holly nodded. “Look, it doesn't matter if you stuff it up a bit. If it's
curly you won't really notice. And if it's too bad I’ll just go to a hairdresser
and get it trimmed. I've always longed to have short hair, anyway. Dad
always liked long hair on girls though, and now I'm eighteen…” Holly's
voice trailed off as she flicked her hair back for the last time with a
defiant gesture. Hesitantly I took the scissors in my hand. “How short?”
“Up to my collar,” Holly decreed, “and straight all the way around.” I
combed her hair. I hoped she knew what she was doing! I hoped I knew what
I was doing! Then I sank the scissors into her hair below her left ear,
and cut off several inches of her hair. Shrrriiiiiiiiiik! Holly's eyes
widened as about fifteen inches of hair fell to the floor, but she didn't
say anything. I cut off another scissorful, being careful to cut it as
straight as possible. Holly flinched as the cold blades of the scissors
touched her neck, but was silent as I severed her long hair. Oh, shit,
it was going to be just above the top of her collar! Never mind, she said
she wanted it short. Feeler braver, I kept cutting. I was at the back of
her neck now, cutting her hair off slowly and carefully. She looked odd
with half her hair cut off bluntly at her neck and the other half still
hanging down her back. I was doing a great job, I must admit. Maybe I should
have taken up hairdressing instead of studying Communications. Skkkkrrrriiiiiiikkkk!!
Lumps of hair fell away as I cut around Holly's head, finally chopping
off the last long locks. Holly shook her newly shortened hair and it bounced
around her face. “Wow! Jane, it's brilliant!” She ran her hands through
it, flicking it out. “Let's get the perm happening!” We pored over the
instructions. Holly shampooed her hair, marveling at how much less hair
there was to rinse clean. It was my job to wind the rollers into Holly's
chopped hair. When I was a kid I used to help my mother put her hot rollers
in before she and Dad went out at night, but these smaller rods were quite
fiddly to deal with. It took ages! Finally Holly's head was covered in
the perm rods, and she leaned over the bath while I carefully squirted
the lotion on her head. “Oww! It's going in my eyes!” “Sorry! Sorry, Hol,
here's a towel.” Holly wiped her eyes and looked at her watch. “OK, twenty
minutes time we rinse this off.” While she waited for her head to stop
dripping, I completely ignored the allergy test and smothered my hair with
the contents of the blonding kit. It stank! I had a moment's horror at
what chemicals I was putting into my extremely healthy hair, but then shrugged
it off. New town, new life, new hair. Coughing at the smell from both our
heads, we made ourselves a coffee with the last of the Nescafe. “How's
my hair, Holly? Does it look blonde yet?” Holly peered at my head. “Dunno.”
We went back into our hideous lime green bathroom. I scrutinized my head
in the mirror. No, it didn't look blonde enough. I reread the instructions.
First time users may need another ten minutes. Fair enough. My head stung
a bit, but I ignored it. Holly's head was ready for part two. She stuck
her head under the bath tap and I rinsed off the first lot of chemicals,
which apparently relaxed her hair ready for the perming lotion. Again I
carefully squirted all over her head, and Holly kneeled over the bath as
excess lotion dripped off. “We are going to look COOL,” Holly declared,
her voice muffled with the towel over her face. “They won't recognize us
at class tomorrow.” “Heather Locklear look out,” I agreed, checking my
color again. Well, the ends looked a lot lighter, but the roots still looked
dark. I finished off my coffee. My stomach was rumbling, telling me it
was time for dinner, preferably from The Satay Skewer. I ignored it. It
was getting salad because lettuce had been on special. When my hair had
had an extra twenty minutes, I decided it was time to rinse it off. I nudged
Holly out of the way and shampooed the color out of my locks under the
bath tap. “Jesus,” I muttered. “My hair feels like straw!” It was awful!
The harsh blonding kit had made my hair brittle and matted. Hurriedly I
covered it in conditioner and wrapped some cling wrap around it. Maybe
a heat treatment would help it. While I was grumbling about my hair feeling
disgusting, Holly checked one of her perm rods. “Doesn't look very curly,”
she said, winding it back up. “I’ll leave it in a bit longer.” We watched
the news on TV and I started making the salad, my head still wrapped in
plastic. By the time we got to sports Holly figured her perm MUST have
taken, and went into the bathroom again to wash it out. I helped her take
out the rods, and she sighed with relief as we dropped the last of them
into the bath. “Shit, those things pull at your hair!” Holly commented,
shampooing her now very curly mop. I was a bit worried, actually. It was
very, very curly, and I told her so. Holly said in a small voice from under
the tap: “HOW curly?” “Golliwog,” I admitted, passing her the conditioner.
“Oh, shit! Maybe the conditioner will help.” You'll notice we think conditioner
is the cure for all hair ills. It's all we can afford! Holly rinsed her
hair for the last time, and I rinsed the conditioner out of mine. It hadn't
worked. My hair still felt horrible. I tried to drag a comb through it
and bits and pieces of hair broke off in the comb. In horror, I looked
in the mirror for the first time since rinsing it clean. My hair was almost
white blonde! With my olive skin and dark eyebrows, it was a shocker! As
I combed it I could see more and more of it breaking off. While I had a
lot of hair, it was very fine and prone to split ends if I didn't trim
it regularly. I pulled a lock of hair in front of my eyes – split ends
for inches! “Oh, no!” I groaned. My hitherto fantastic hair was wrecked!
Beside me, Holly gave a wail. “Oh, Jane! Look!” She shook her head and
wild curls stood around it in a halo. The perm had shrunk her chin length
hair nearly up to her ears, and, like mine, it looked to be in awful condition.
“I can't even comb it!” Holly moaned. She pulled her comb through a lock
of hair and it sprung out from her head like wire. It was several shades
lighter than before where the chemicals had leached it, and, like mine,
appeared to be a mass of split ends. Holly burst into tears. “What can
I do? I’ll have to cut off all the split ends!” She peered through her
tears into the mirror. “It's stuffed, all the way to my scalp!” She examined
her hair closely, and it was all kinky and frizzy the entire length of
each hair. “Let it dry and see how it looks,” I suggested. “Don't comb
it too much or it'll go like an afro.” Holly tearfully dried her hair as
much as she could with the towel. I looked in horror as a large number
of her hairs broke off and dropped onto the lime green vanity unit and
the sink. Hol noticed them too. “Cut it off,” she ordered me, giving me
the scissors. “Just cut it really short, I think it's the only thing I
can do. Even a hairdresser can't fix this one!” I quailed. Holly was my
best friend, how could I cut off her hair? “But what if I stuff it up?
I'm not used to cutting hair,” I protested. Holly took the scissors from
me again, held up a lock of her fringe (which had shrunk almost to hairline
length with the wild perm), and cut it off close to her scalp as I watched
with wide eyes. She dropped the cut off squiggle of hair onto the floor.
“Like that,” she said flatly. She saw the look of horror on my face and
gave a twisted smile. “Can't look worse than this, can it?” She handed
the scissors back to me. Not quite knowing where to start, I lifted the
rest of her fringe and slid the scissors into it, With misgivings, I closed
the blade and cut Holly's fringe to about half an inch long. Holly didn't
say a word. I kept cutting, lifting up the ruined hair on top of her head
and cutting it off as carefully as I could. Even that short it was still
frizzy and fuzzy. I worked backwards, clipping her head with the scissors,
lifting the hair first with my fingers and then, when I got used to it,
with the comb. Locks of hair rained down on Holly's shoulders as it was
cut away. My best friend sat impassively, watching me shear her hair to
almost nothing. She actually started to smile by the top I’d clipped half
of the top of her head. “You know, it feels really funny, Jane. Sort of
tickles a bit as you cut it off. I've never had hair so short in my life.”
She lifted a hand and rubbed the stubble I’d reduced her hair to. Relieved
she wasn't going to kill me, I kept snipping at her head. At last I’d finished
cutting the top and moved to the sides. Slowly I slid the scissors against
her scalp. Like I said, they were office scissors, with long, 8 inch blades.
You couldn't cut hair to absolute baldness with them because of the way
they were made – thank God, or I’d be in real trouble! I’d discovered that
simply sliding them into Holly's still wet hair and closing the blades
cut the hair off to a relatively even length, even allowing for my shaky
fingers. So I simply cut off the hair in front of her ears and around her
temple with two long snips, and it fell over her knees in corkscrew curls.
I lifted the hair from over her ears so I could get the scissors in there,
and cut that off too. Holly's new haircut was emerging as mega-short with..er..the
odd patch cut shorter than others here and there, when I hadn't positioned
the blades as carefully as I could have. Because Holly's hair was wet it
was easy to cut, I discovered. When my mother trimmed my hair, she cut
it while it was dry so she could see what she was doing. I had trouble
judging exactly what I was doing, and Holly's scalp showed through her
clipped wet locks in patches, but it was very, very easy to cut! I just
hoped you couldn't see her scalp when it was dry. I cut off the hair behind
Holly's ear and started on the back of her head, snipping merrily. Obligingly
she bent her head forward so I could cut the hair evenly at her nape. She
gasped when the cold blades touched her skin, and shuddered as I moved
them up her head. “That really feels good, Jane,” she murmured. She lifted
a hand and ran it over the hair I’d clipped. I say ran it over because
there was no way it was long enough to run her fingers through any more!
I had suspicions that Holly was getting just a mite turned on by having
all her hair cut off. After all, the girl had started to squirm in her
seat, just the way she did when she saw a Tom Cruise movie. Lift and snip,
lift and snip. The back of Holly's hair was boy short now, and it was so
short at the crown it didn't even stand up. Holly closed her eyes as I
cut away the hair behind her other ear. It was hard to believe that only
an hour or two ago she had long, straight hair hanging down her back. Now
I was sliding the scissors in front of her ear and cutting the last wild
curls close to her skin. “Finished,” I said shakily. It didn't look good.
Try as I might, I was no hair artist. Maybe if we'd have had clippers I
could have done a better job, but scissors left the hair a bit “tufty”.
I tried trimming around her head to even it up, but I think the job was
beyond my skills. Holly turned her head this way and that. She rubbed her
hands over her head. “It still feels damaged – what there is of it. Why
don't you lather me up and shave my head?” “Shave your head?!” I shrieked,
almost dropping the comb. “Bald is beautiful, so they say. Look, Jane,
we've spent all our lives in a bigoted little country town. I've longed
to break out and do something different, something radical. Here we are
in the city where anything goes. So I want to shave my head. Can you do
it for me?” Holly had that determined look on her face which means Don't
Mess With Me. I knew what she meant. Girls with shaved heads or even crewcuts
didn't exist in our hometown. Girls like me who dyed their nice brown hair
to a white blonde the consistency of dried straw weren't exactly common
either. “I’ll have to cut it shorter if I can, especially on the top,”
I said, “it'll be easier to shave off.” Holly nodded, and sat very still
while I clipped away again, angling the blades to snip her hair as close
to her skin as possible. Large white patches of skin began to appear, with
little prickles of hair barely visible. Her eyes were shut in what appeared
to be pleasure, and I wondered idly what it felt like to have your hair
nibbled away to nothing, and feel the cold steel of the scissors against
your skin. “Ready,” I said finally, and Holly opened her eyes to see her
hair even shorter than before – what was left of it. She rubbed her hands
over her new skinhead look and grinned. We used shaving foam on our legs.
I covered Hol’s head in it, filled the sink with water and got out a new
disposable razor. “Here goes,” I said shakily. Holly closed her eyes and
smiled as I dragged the razor back from her forehead, taking a wide stripe
of hair with it. It was easier than I thought. The razor glided through
her hair, shaving it away to the skin without any problem. Carefully I
shaved the top of Holly's head, and she sighed when I reached the back
and shaved her crown. “Mmm,” Holly groaned. “You have NO idea what this
feels like, Jane.” When I’d finished the top Holly touched her smooth head
with her fingers and gasped. “Wow! Amazing! Hurry up and do the rest!”
This was a side of Holly I’d never imagined. Grinning in disbelief, I shaved
away the hair around her ears and temples. The water in the sink was getting
all gluggy with shaving cream and hair. Holly's scalp was getting balder
and balder. She bent her neck again so the skin was stretched taut at the
back of her head. I shaved up her neck and nape, and Hol shuddered in pleasure
as the hair was peeled away. Three careful minutes later, Holly was completely
bald. I wet a face flannel and wiped Holly's pale cranium clean of any
stray foam. Holly watched me, a huge smile on her face. She looked astoundingly
pretty without her hair – her neck was long and graceful, something you
never really noticed when her hair had hung around her shoulders. Holly
stroked her clean scalp joyfully, then looked at the floor. It was covered
in her hair – first the long, straight locks I’d cut off before her perm,
and then the dreadful curls, all bunched up and dry and split. “Much better
on the floor than on my head,” she murmured, using the flannel to wipe
clippings from her cheeks and nose. We looked in the mirror together: Holly
with her bald head, me with my straw. “What about your hair?” Holly said
pointedly, reaching over and feeling my split ends. “It's in awful condition.
Want me to cut it for you?” Now what, I wondered, did Holly mean by ‘cut’?
She pushed me onto the chair and draped a towel around my neck, then began
to brush my long, dry hair. “It's a mess, Jane. You'll have to cut it short.
It's breaking off everywhere.” “Er – “ I began. But Holly had the scissors
in her hand. In a flash she'd lopped off a lock of my hair to earlobe level.
Astonished, I watched six inches of hair fall onto my knees. “Hol!” “You
need it,” Holly told me. “I know,” I agreed, “but don't I have some say
in the style?” “What style?” said Holly. “I'm not a hairdresser! Trust
me and we'll see how this looks.” With that Holly put the scissors back
into my hair and kept cutting towards the back. I watched in the mirror
as my hair was shortened to a blunt, ear length bob. The scissors sounded
quite loud as they skkkkrrriiiiiiiked under my ear and around to the back.
When Holly got to the back, I felt the blades against my skin. Like she
did, I gasped, realizing how short she was cutting it. It felt like she
was bobbing my hair above the hairline. “Gotta trim up the bottom,” Holly
said with evident pleasure. She pushed my head forward and began clipping
away at the nape of my neck. I felt the blades against my bare skin, cutting
off my hair until it was shorn away up to the bob. I had to admit, it was
a peculiar sensation, and began to see how and why Holly had enjoyed it
so much. The blades nibbled away; Holly was just using the ends of them
to cut my hair very close. Then she'd finished the back, and in three long
swoops of the blades had hacked off the rest of my hair to the bottom of
my ears. “What do you think?” Hol said, picking up the brush and brushing
my hair. I loved having it brushed, feeling the bristles against my skin,
dragging through my locks. I looked at myself in the mirror; with my new
white bob I looked far more sophisticated than the long-haired country
girl I’d been until this evening. I felt the new, short ends of my hair.
“It's still split!” I gasped. “I don't believe it!” Holly inspected my
hair. “Yeah, it's still breaking off. I think it's safe to say your hair
is just as buggered as mine was. You'll have to go shorter.” I had a sinking
feeling in the pit of my stomach. This was not looking good! Holly might
think it the height of fashion to have a shaved head, but she was far prettier
than I. She could get away with it. “Don't you want to be radical?” Holly
said softly. “Or are you going to turn into a version of your mother, staying
at home, having kids and baking scones, wearing a knee length dress and
comfortable shoes, with a nice, shoulder length bob you can put up into
a French roll for a night on the town at the Bowling Club?” The vision
was all too awful – I wasn't a domesticated person by any means, the most
complicated thing I could cook was steak and vegetables. I’d never worn
a knee length skirt in my life. I had no intention of raising six kids
and baking scones – or putting my hair in a French roll for that matter.
Holly really knew how to get me where it hurt. “You're only young once,
right?” I said shakily. “Uh-huh,” Hol agreed. “Let's see how well I can
do a crewcut. Should look great with your ultra blonde hair!” “Crewc-“
I began in horror, but Holly had lifted up the hair hanging over my forehead
and cut off a great big clump of it before I could finish talking. The
die was cast. Or rather, the dye was. If I hadn't used that bloody blonding
kit I wouldn't be sitting here letting my best friend live out some fantasy
she'd obviously cooked up about cutting off people's hair - her own and
mine. Holly used the comb to lift my hair while she cut it off. I watched
hair rain down over my face onto my knees, and in the mirror the top of
my head was getting cropped shorter than my brother's. “Feel good?” Holly
said gently. I processed the question, letting senses other than my sight
take over. The comb lifted my hair, the scissors slid underneath it and
with a loud skkkkrrriiiiiiik clipped my hair off. There was a funny feeling
of lightness as the scissors severed my hair and the short clumps sprang
back to lie flat on my head. “Actually,” I said after a minute, “It does.”
“Told you,” Holly replied, satisfied. She was smiling as she cropped my
hair. My lap filled with clippings, and my head felt funny and tight where
she'd cut my hair super short. There was no turning back now, not with
the top clipped off, so I had no choice but to sit there and explore the
experience of the shortest haircut I’d ever had. Holly finished the top,
and I touched my newly shorn pelt. It felt soft against my hands, much
softer than the damaged hair which had been cut off. Almost recklessly
Hol attacked the side of my head, shearing away the hair around my ears
and temples. I saw my ears uncovered for the first time in ages; I always
wore my hair down. Holly was cutting my hair so short that my rather flat
ears almost stuck out from my head. I had no real idea what she was doing,
but it looked like she wasn't being that careful. Some chopped locks of
hair looked longer than others, sticking out in tufts on my head. “Bend
your neck,” Holly suggested. I studied my knees as she lay the blades against
my nape and began to cut. My nape was very sensitive, and I almost jumped
out of the chair when I felt the cold steel move slowly up the back of
my head. I couldn't believe I was sitting in the bathroom getting all my
hair cut off, but the sound of the blades shrieking through my locks, and
the feeling of weightlessness where the hair had been cut was pretty good
proof. Slowly the back of my head was cropped and chopped and shorn, all
the way to the top. I put my head back up straight and watched Holly lift
and snip away at the hair near my crown. It looked odd to see myself in
the mirror with no hair hanging down the back of my neck. Holly delicately
cut around my other ear, snipping my hair off at the hairline. “You've
got a well shaped head,” she said approvingly, lifting my hair lock by
lock and cutting it off, letting the clippings drop onto my shoulders.
At last the haircut was over. Holly had skrriiiiiked the last of my hair
to a wildly short length and let the cut clump fall onto my knees. I gave
a sigh. It had been quite an experience, and a far more enjoyable one than
I thought it would be. My self in the mirror had megashort hair and huge
brown eyes. I didn't look too bad. Better than I predicted I would. Almost
attractive. I ran my hands over my head and rather liked the feeling of
my new haircut, all soft and feathery against my fingers. It was a bit
uneven but I supposed I could go to a hairdresser's – or even a barber's
– and get it done properly with clippers when I had a bit more money. “I
haven't finished yet,” Holly said, watching me grin at my new, strange
reflection. She had the tin of shaving foam in her hand. “Hol!” I protested.
“You said you were feeling radical,” she parried. “You're only young once,
remember!? Jane, you HAVE to try it. You liked having your hair cut, I
could tell. Well, this is even better again. You won't believe what it
feels like having your head shaved unless you experience it.” “Maybe I’ll
just take your word for it,” I muttered, shaking the cut hair from my knees
and taking the towel from my neck. I rose from the chair, but one of Holly's
hands suddenly clamped on my head and pushed me back down. “You'll have
your head shaved,” Holly said firmly. “Your hair is just as damaged as
mine. There's not much left on your head anyway. Cut it any shorter and
you may as well be bald.” Before I could protest, she squirted shaving
foam all over the top of my head and began to massage it into my hair.
I was half terrified of this new, bossy Holly and half intrigued as to
what a head shave felt like. Getting out of the chair and walking away
would, I felt in my heart, ruin a life long friendship. There was nothing
to do but let Holly shave me bald. I watched in the mirror as she picked
a fresh razor out of the pack and made the first stroke, right in the middle
of the top. I felt the razor scraping against my skin, and then there was
a white patch of scalp visible amidst the foam. Holly rinsed the razor
in the sink, and scraped another part clean alongside it. It felt funny,
having my head shaved. Not unpleasant, just an unusual sensation in a part
of my body that didn't normally get the attention of a razor. I tried not
to think how long it would take my hair to grow back as I watched the top
of my head get denuded and felt the razor stroking against my skin. There
was a faint hint of five o'clock shadow where my hair grew, but that was
all that was left of it. Holly would have made a good barber. She was more
confident than I’d been, peeling my hair off in long, firm strokes. “Your
hair's really fine,” she murmured. “It's easy to shave.” When she put her
hand on top of my head to tilt it to the side, her palm felt very warm
against my bare skin. It was quite an erotic sensation, and I sensed the
enjoyment Holly had got out of her shave. Then the hair was shaved away
from my ears, and the side of my head. I heard the razor scraping against
my skin quite loudly as Holly shaved off my sideburns. Obediently I bent
my head forward again so the back could be done. Holly started low on my
neck, shaving away all the little hairs which grew down below my hairline.
I couldn't see the razor's progress any more, only feel it glide up against
my nape and only guess how much of my scalp was being shaved bald. Like
Holly, I couldn't suppress a shudder as the blade encountered the hair
at my nape. I felt myself blushing at my emotions; yes, it was turning
me on sexually. Splash, rinse, shave. My nape was laid bare, and Holly
began to scrape off the hair that grew over the bumpy bone at the back
of my head. “Feels good?” said Holly. “Mmm,” I murmured in assent as the
razor shaved all the way to the top of my head. My head was feeling cold
where it had been shaved but the rest of me was hot and flushed. Holly
was right, this was something I really DID have to experience! I’d never
have believed I’d truly enjoy feeling a razor blade shave off every hair
on my head. When I could look up again I watched the rest of my head get
shaved. Slowly the shaving foam, and all my hair with it, was scraped delicately
from around my other ear. I found myself grinning like a fool as my very
best friend carefully shaved the last remaining hair on my head from my
right temple. Like I’d done for her, she wiped my head clean. And like
she'd done, I felt my newly shaven scalp with both hands. It felt weird,
not having any hair. Stroking my fingers gently across the top of my head
was an amazingly sensuous experience. When I raised my eyebrows my entire
scalp moved, and I giggled. “I can't believe we just did that!” I gasped
finally, when I’d stopped laughing and got used to the sight of my hairless
self. “Yeah, I'm never using a home perm again!” Holly giggled, throwing
the home perm box in the garbage, together with the used razors. The awful
lime green of the bathroom floor tiles was obscured by hair – Holly's brown
and my white blonde. It was hard to conceive our two heads had produced
so much hair. “I think I’ll get my nose pierced when I get some money,”
Holly said dreamily, gazing at her bald reflection, with a hand mirror
angled so she could see the back of her naked head. “Hol!” I protested.
“You can come with me and keep me company,” she grinned. “No way. Now I
know what keeping you company really means,” I retorted, starting to gather
the hair on the floor into one huge pile and toss it in the garbage. “You're
only young once, remember?” Holly taunted, reaching down and patting my
head. “There's a limit,” I muttered, throwing away another handful of hair.
“Shaving your head doesn't actually involve physical pain.” I think you
can guess the rest. Three weeks later we both had pierced noses and had
spent the last of our allowances on a new pack of razors! The end. ©
Copyright 1999, Sabrina S e question, letting senses other than my sight
take over. The comb lifted my hair, the scissors slid underneath it and
with a loud skkkkrrriiiiiiik clipped my hair off. There was a funny feeling
of lightness as the scissors severed my hair and the short clumps sprang
back to lie flat on my head. “Actually,” I said after a minute, “It does.”
“Told you,” Holly replied, satisfied. She was smiling as she cropped my
hair. My lap filled with clippings, and my head felt funny and tight where
she'd cut my hair super short. There was no turning back now, not with
the top clipped off, so I had no choice but to sit there and explore the
experience of the shortest haircut I’d ever had. Holly finished the top,
and I touched my newly shorn pelt. It felt soft against my hands, much
softer than the damaged hair which had been cut off. Almost recklessly
Hol attacked the side of my head, shearing away the hair around my ears
and temples. I saw my ears uncovered for the first time in ages; I always
wore my hair down. Holly was cutting my hair so short that my rather flat
ears almost stuck out from my head. I had no real idea what she was doing,
but it looked like she wasn't being that careful. Some chopped locks of
hair looked longer than others, sticking out in tufts on my head. “Bend
your neck,” Holly suggested. I studied my knees as she lay the blades against
my nape and began to cut. My nape was very sensitive, and I almost jumped
out of the chair when I felt the cold steel move slowly up the back of
my head. I couldn't believe I was sitting in the bathroom getting all my
hair cut off, but the sound of the blades shrieking through my locks, and
the feeling of weightlessness where the hair had been cut was pretty good
proof. Slowly the back of my head was cropped and chopped and shorn, all
the way to the top. I put my head back up straight and watched Holly lift
and snip away at the hair near my crown. It looked odd to see myself in
the mirror with no hair hanging down the back of my neck. Holly delicately
cut around my other ear, snipping my hair off at the hairline. “You've
got a well shaped head,” she said approvingly, lifting my hair lock by
lock and cutting it off, letting the clippings drop onto my shoulders.
At last the haircut was over. Holly had skrriiiiiked the last of my hair
to a wildly short length and let the cut clump fall onto my knees. I gave
a sigh. It had been quite an experience, and a far more enjoyable one than
I thought it would be. My self in the mirror had megashort hair and huge
brown eyes. I didn't look too bad. Better than I predicted I would. Almost
attractive. I ran my hands over my head and rather liked the feeling of
my new haircut, all soft and feathery against my fingers. It was a bit
uneven but I supposed I could go to a hairdresser's – or even a barber's
– and get it done properly with clippers when I had a bit more money. “I
haven't finished yet,” Holly said, watching me grin at my new, strange
reflection. She had the tin of shaving foam in her hand. “Hol!” I protested.
“You said you were feeling radical,” she parried. “You're only young once,
remember!? Jane, you HAVE to try it. You liked having your hair cut, I
could tell. Well, this is even better again. You won't believe what it
feels like having your head shaved unless you experience it.” “Maybe I’ll
just take your word for it,” I muttered, shaking the cut hair from my knees
and taking the towel from my neck. I rose from the chair, but one of Holly's
hands suddenly clamped on my head and pushed me back down. “You'll have
your head shaved,” Holly said firmly. “Your hair is just as damaged as
mine. There's not much left on your head anyway. Cut it any shorter and
you may as well be bald.” Before I could protest, she squirted shaving
foam all over the top of my head and began to massage it into my hair.
I was half terrified of this new, bossy Holly and half intrigued as to
what a head shave felt like. Getting out of the chair and walking away
would, I felt in my heart, ruin a life long friendship. There was nothing
to do but let Holly shave me bald. I watched in the mirror as she picked
a fresh razor out of the pack and made the first stroke, right in the middle
of the top. I felt the razor scraping against my skin, and then there was
a white patch of scalp visible amidst the foam. Holly rinsed the razor
in the sink, and scraped another part clean alongside it. It felt funny,
having my head shaved. Not unpleasant, just an unusual sensation in a part
of my body that didn't normally get the attention of a razor. I tried not
to think how long it would take my hair to grow back as I watched the top
of my head get denuded and felt the razor stroking against my skin. There
was a faint hint of five o'clock shadow where my hair grew, but that was
all that was left of it. Holly would have made a good barber. She was more
confident than I’d been, peeling my hair off in long, firm strokes. “Your
hair's really fine,” she murmured. “It's easy to shave.” When she put her
hand on top of my head to tilt it to the side, her palm felt very warm
against my bare skin. It was quite an erotic sensation, and I sensed the
enjoyment Holly had got out of her shave. Then the hair was shaved away
from my ears, and the side of my head. I heard the razor scraping against
my skin quite loudly as Holly shaved off my sideburns. Obediently I bent
my head forward again so the back could be done. Holly started low on my
neck, shaving away all the little hairs which grew down below my hairline.
I couldn't see the razor's progress any more, only feel it glide up against
my nape and only guess how much of my scalp was being shaved bald. Like
Holly, I couldn't suppress a shudder as the blade encountered the hair
at my nape. I felt myself blushing at my emotions; yes, it was turning
me on sexually. Splash, rinse, shave. My nape was laid bare, and Holly
began to scrape off the hair that grew over the bumpy bone at the back
of my head. “Feels good?” said Holly. “Mmm,” I murmured in assent as the
razor shaved all the way to the top of my head. My head was feeling cold
where it had been shaved but the rest of me was hot and flushed. Holly
was right, this was something I really DID have to experience! I’d never
have believed I’d truly enjoy feeling a razor blade shave off every hair
on my head. When I could look up again I watched the rest of my head get
shaved. Slowly the shaving foam, and all my hair with it, was scraped delicately
from around my other ear. I found myself grinning like a fool as my very
best friend carefully shaved the last remaining hair on my head from my
right temple. Like I’d done for her, she wiped my head clean. And like
she'd done, I felt my newly shaven scalp with both hands. It felt weird,
not having any hair. Stroking my fingers gently across the top of my head
was an amazingly sensuous experience. When I raised my eyebrows my entire
scalp moved, and I giggled. “I can't believe we just did that!” I gasped
finally, when I’d stopped laughing and got used to the sight of my hairless
self. “Yeah, I'm never using a home perm again!” Holly giggled, throwing
the home perm box in the garbage, together with the used razors. The awful
lime green of the bathroom floor tiles was obscured by hair – Holly's brown
and my white blonde. It was hard to conceive our two heads had produced
so much hair. “I think I’ll get my nose pierced when I get some money,”
Holly said dreamily, gazing at her bald reflection, with a hand mirror
angled so she could see the back of her naked head. “Hol!” I protested.
“You can come with me and keep me company,” she grinned. “No way. Now I
know what keeping you company really means,” I retorted, starting to gather
the hair on the floor into one huge pile and toss it in the garbage. “You're
only young once, remember?” Holly taunted, reaching down and patting my
head. “There's a limit,” I muttered, throwing away another handful of hair.
“Shaving your head doesn't actually involve physical pain.” I think you
can guess the rest. Three weeks later we both had pierced noses and had
spent the last of our allowances on a new pack of razors!
The end. © Copyright 1999, Sabrina S
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