TOO MUCH OF A COINCIDENCE

Radhika’s family
Radhika is a design engineer in a leading industry near Padi, Chennai.  Being resident in faraway Adyar, it is quite a job coming to work everyday and going back.  She found that taking a bus pass was the best thing to do.  She is a 32 year old mother of a 10 year old boy, Ranjan and an 8 year old girl, Pratima.  It was her fortune that her mother-in-law, Nagamani and father-in-law, Ramanan stayed with them.  Otherwise who would tend to her children?  More fortunate was that her relations with her in-laws were excellent.  Her 35 year old husband, Venkatesan works as a Central Govt. employee in the Income Tax Department.  She has a very happy relationship with her husband with full trust on both sides.  She has not hesitated to get a lift from even gent riders when the occasion has called for it.  In fact, her in-laws and hubby have encouraged her to do this rather than wait endlessly for non-available bus or autorickshaw.  Of course, they have cautioned her to be careful in choosing the rider.
Radhika’s mottai dream
Radhika is a beautiful lady with dense hair reaching only about 6 inches below her shoulders.  That is the maximum length it reaches and she has not cut it for the past 18 years.  It was when she was 14 that, to increase the length and density of her hair, her mother got her head nicely tonsured in Tirupati and for the next six months her head was closely shaved every month in the nearby barber shop.  This improved the density and quality of her hair but not length. Radhika did enjoy that period of head shaving.
Now, she is very successful in her career having got two promotions in her 11 year old job.  Being highly talkative, she can befriend almost anybody within a short time.  After she got her employment she had thought of offering hair at Tirupati but there was little opportunity for that with her marriage proposal almost being finalised.  After marriage she was scared to raise the subject before her in-laws even though she had paid three visits to Tirupati since then.  Of course, on all these occasions the menfolk and her daughter had got tonsured there.  Still, she did nurse in the corner of her heart the desire to get her head nicely shaved there.
Bald Shanti
It was an April Monday.  As she boarded the bus for work, she was surprised to see the 24 year old lady conductor of the bus wearing a scarf.  Her name was Shanti and had got this appointment about seven months ago.  This was her second route.  Radhika being a regular in the bus had easily befriended her.  In fact, once in a while Radhika visits Shanti’s house which is just half a km from her own house.  The employment meant a lot to the B.Sc. graduate Shanti what with her sick old father, mother and two studying youngsters.  Now, obviously Shanti’s head was bald and she was hiding it for the sake of work.  Radhika’s eyes glowed with pleasant surprise.  At that time there were just two other passengers and Shanti greeted Radhika with a broad smile simultaneously taking off her scarf.  Radhika caressed her smooth head saying “Nice, Shanti”.  Shanti tied the scarf back hurriedly and said “Thank you, Akka.  I did not inform you of this beforehand to make it a surprise for you.  I have completed my probation and you know how much this job means to me.  I had vowed this before I got the job.  Also, Appa is improving slightly day by day.  Yesterday, all of us including Amma and Preeti (her younger sister studying in I B.Sc.) got tonsured in Tirupati as thanksgiving to Lord Venkateswara.  Come to my house today, Akka and see my beautiful, bald sister and mother.  More at my house, Akka” and hurried off to collect money and issue tickets.
Radhika was excited at the thought of seeing and caressing young Preeti’s and her high school studying brother, Raju’s bald heads.
Ramanathan’s family mottai
As she approached her desk in the factory, she had another surprise.  Her senior, 40 year old Ramanathan was already there but minus his regular moustache and the nice, curly hair.  It was a bit difficult to recognize him at first sight.  Radhika said “Fine sir, you look really nice.  Where had you been?  Tirupati?  Palani?  Srisailam?”  Ramanathan replied “Thank you, Radhika.  I had been to Tirupati.  You see, my wife, Kusuma had this vow of hers.  So this is the result.”  “What vow, sir?”  “She had vowed, about five years ago, that after we bought our own house and cleared all the loans, she would offer hair in Tirupati as celebration.  Of course, she had sought my and my parents’ clearance.  Initially, Appa did not agree.  But Amma persuaded him saying ‘You and I could not make our own house and Kusuma wants to do it.  Let her do it.  In fact, I also would like to do it, if you would agree.’  We all had been stunned by her statement. It is three months since we occupied our new house and got it registered.  The kids (Ramanathan has two high school going 14 year old twin daughters and two sons aged 12 and 9) not only happily agreed for the tonsure but also persuaded their grand-father to join.  It was agreed that all the eight would get our heads shaved in Tirupati. And so the day before yesterday, we all got tonsured in Kalyanakatta.”  Radhika became so excited on hearing this that for a moment she was unable to breathe properly.  “Can I come today to your house and see your people?”  “Oh by all means.  I will take you to my house on my bike after work”.
Radhika had a tough time in concentrating on her job.  She telephoned home that she would be late by about three hours.  In the evening, she went to Ramanathan’s house riding pillion on his bike and saw his beautiful, bald wife Kusuma, the daughters, the sons and his parents – all nicely and proudly bald.  She caressed everybody’s head including Ramanathan’s but barring those of his parents. The twins and their mother were ecstatic about their nice, gray bald heads.  After about an hour of listening to their Kalyanakatta and other Tirupati experience, she set out to go back to Adyar by bus.  She was supposed to go to Shanti’s house, you see.
But, even after half an hour of waiting she could not get a bus to anywhere near Adyar or the bus had too much rush for her comfort.  She started waving at single riders, mostly male and some female.  While no female stopped to give her a lift, several men stopped but either their destination did not suit her or they appeared a bit too eager to have her on their pillion seat.  Probably it was the 20^th bike that she waved at in half an hour.  The rider slowly stopped his Hero Honda Splendor at the left footpath.
“Yes, Madam?” he asked with due respect.  She could not see his face properly because of the helmet.
“In which direction are you going?”
“Adyar”
“I also want to go there.  Somehow I am unable to get a bus for the last one hour.  Can you drop me in Adyar? I work nearby here”.  She showed him her identity badge.
“No problem.  Please sit on the pillion seat.”
“But a request.  I would like to see your face fully and I would like you to write your name and bike no. in my diary.  Just a precaution for my husband’s sake, you see.”  She extended her small pocket diary and pen.
“I can understand.  I don’t mind at all.”
He took off his helmet, took her diary and pen to write his name and bike no.  And what a surprise for Radhika!  The young man had a very recent tonsure and he looked so good with a fully bald head.  She spontaneously blurted out with a grin “Oh! You are a mottai! How nice you look!”  If only Venkatesan got his head done like this more often, say at least once a year!  She could enjoy spending half an hour everyday stroking his nice bald head.  By now he had finished writing.  With a smile he handed back her diary and pen saying “Thanks for the compliment”.  His name was Murali.  He looked around 27 or 28.  He observed her appreciating his nice round bald head.  He smiled again and put on his helmet.  He recalled in his mind how his mother and two sisters, his elder brother’s wife and now his own wife and two of his female colleagues all had wanted him to get his head shaved at one time or another.  As a result this was his seventh tonsure in about 15 years. What is it that many females had in them to appreciate, even demand, a tonsured head on males?  “Please sit down, Madam.  Could I know your name?”  He had not paid attention to that in the id card she had shown.  “Radhika” she said, sitting a bit shyly, with both of her legs on the left side.  She always wore sari to office.
“Can you hear me?” she asked as the bike moved forward.  She could not resist her ever-wagging tongue for long.  “Sure.  Are you able to hear me?”  he asked back.  “Where did you get the mottai done?  Palani? Tirupati?”  She asked.  He said “I got it done in Tirupati yesterday.”  “Are you married?”  He had seen her mangalsutra, so he need not ask her that.  “Yes, three years ago.  I have a two year old daughter.”  “Did your wife allow you to do this?”  “She insisted that I do it.  On Friday my colleague Chitra, on learning of my impending Tirupati visit, had threatened that if I came back with hair on my head she herself would tonsure my head.  I don’t know why many women like the males in their lives bald. Well, it was for our two year old daughter’s mottai that we went to Tirupati.  After that and darshan, my wife insisted that I also do it.  When we again entered Kalyanakatta supposedly for my tonsure, she bought two tickets.  I did not understand.  She said she also would do it praying for the next child.  I was taken aback.  My parents-in-law who had come from Salem and my own parents who had come from Vellore supported her.  I could not resist all of them and so I went along with her wish.  After I and she got tonsured, we again had darshan and came back yesterday.  Our parents are back to their places.  It was in a way good that she did it.  She looks very beautiful and is so much happy about it that she has vowed to do it again along with the mottai of our next child.”
On hearing what Murali said about his wife, Radhika got so excited that it was a miracle that she did not fall off the bike.  This was too much of a coincidence for her.  Unable to control her tongue “I have this attraction for those who shave their heads especially females. I wish I could see your wife and appreciate her look!”  “Well, your house could not be too far from where I live. So, please come home, Madam.  She will very much welcome it.  Since yesterday many have appreciated her, but some do have objected.  She will be happy to have more support for her tonsure.”
Radhika would not like to lose this opportunity of caressing Murali’s and his wife’s nice heads.  It will be a bit delayed to go to Shanti’s house.  No problem.  She would be at home. “Okay, I would love to.  But does she approve of you carrying strange females on your bike?”  “Once or twice she objected.  But once she got stranded in Ayanawaram when there was a strike.  Reluctantly, she tried to get a drop on a two wheeler.  A rowdy mob passed in front of her shouting and sloganeering.  She started trembling with fear.  After some time, a kind gentleman did give her a drop till Raj Bhavan.  Since then she herself encourages these things.  She has full confidence in my behaviour.”  The two chatted on and on about many things – politics, cricket, music concerts, TV serials and so on.  Finally after an hour of life on the bike and several traffic signals, he arrived at his house.  She realised that his house was just about 5 minutes walk from Shanti’s house.
Bodi Pallavi
Inside the house she was introduced to Pallavi, his wife.  Oh! What a bald beauty she was!  Radhika spontaneously hugged her, kissed her on her cheek and head and said “You look fantastic, Pallavi”.  Though taken aback initially, Pallavi did not mind the gesture coming from an elder.  She responded in equal measure to cement a sudden friendship saying “Thank you, Akka.  A few have objected but most others have appreciated.  Now that a close neighbour like you is on my side I won’t give a damn who says what and I will enjoy this going around bare headed.”  She giggled.  Radhika caressed the head of a blushing Murali also thanking him for having given her a drop.  He said “Never mention it again.  Hereafter, you are like an elder sister for us.”   After receiving the prasadam and a cup of coffee Radhika left and walked to Shanti’s house.
There, she learnt that Shanti had already gone to her house showing her bald head gleefully and given prasadam to her mother.  She was hugged by Shanti’s bald sister Preeti.  She caressed the nice bald heads of Shanti, Preeti and Raju.  Already two days’ growth was there on their heads.  Even the two elders – Shanti’s mother and father looked nice with bald heads.
Shanti explained more about the pilgrimage.  Because of his poor health, her father and mother got tonsured in their cottage.  But her father insisted that the rest do it in Kalyanakatta only as doing it there among the general public is more auspicious.  So, the three shed their sacred hair there.  Shanti vowed to do it again three months after marriage. By the by her marriage had also been fixed to be conducted eight months hence.   The bridegroom had agreed for a very simple marriage, for her to give all her earnings to her parents till Raju became old enough to earn a decent amount of money and for her to get tonsured immediately after marriage and also once in three or four years.  Preeti vowed that she would also follow her dear sister’s footsteps – tonsure after getting employed and tonsure after marriage.
Today, after her shift was over Shanti met her reporting officer, Natarajan to give prasadam.  He was pleasantly surprised.  He told her that if she wished she could work without the scarf and he would not have any objection.  He commented “I have been telling my wife and daughter to get it done at least once. Neither listens to me.  Please come to my house tomorrow after shift hours.  At least, if they see you looking beautiful and confident with a bald head they may be convinced”.  So, from tomorrow she would go to work with the scarf in her vanity bag.  Preeti butted in with a giggle “All in my house call me ‘mottai’ and I welcome it.  Though currently all are mottais in our house, only I will be called that. Will you also call me that, please?”  Radhika replied with a giggle “Yes, mottai”.
When Radhika finally returned to her house, it was 9 o’ clock in the night.  “Why are you so late?” demanded her husband.  Radhika ignored him and from the look of her everybody realised she was excited about something and it was better to wait than press for her answer.  At the dinner sitting, her mother-in-law asked her “What is it, Radhu?  You seem to be excited about something.  By the by, your conductor friend Shanti had come.  Know what?  She has got her head tonsured in Tirupati and gave prasadam to all of us.  She said everybody in her house got tonsured.”
Radhika said “I know Amma.  I am excited about the coincidence, too much of a coincidence.  Three whole urban middle class families getting tonsured in Tirupati in the last two days! And I get to meet all of them, see all their bald heads, caress most of those heads, all in one evening.  Too much coincidence, I think.”  For the next half an hour she described the happenings of the day.
Ramanan said “Yes, it is just a coincidence.  So many people get tonsured everyday.  It was a coincidence that you met three such families.”
“No Appa, you rarely find whole of urban middle class families including young and old ladies getting tonsured.  Maybe the gents, may be an occasional female.  But whole families!  I think there is a message in this for us, me at least.”
“What are you driving at?”  asked Venkatesan.
“I also want to get fully tonsured in Tirupati” she blurted out blushing and lowering her eyes.
“Ha ha ha, Radhu you getting tonsured!  Why at all?”  exclaimed Nagamani.
“Cut it out Nagu.  What Radhu says sounds good.  Why only her?  Why not you also?  Why not the whole of our family?  I feel such a thing would be a nice change for the family” said Ramanan.
“You mean I also should do it?” implored Nagamani at her husband.
“Why not Nagu?  You will look good with it.  If you don’t, it will anyway grow back in about a year or so.  I would not come in your way if you chose to do it.”
Venkatesan started giggling imagining a bald mother.  “It would be funny to look at a bald you, Amma” he said.  Radhika joined him in giggling.  Nagamani became slightly angry at it but soon joined them in giggling.  The kids also started laughing.  The atmosphere became conducive for acceptance.  “For what reason should anyone of us get shaved?” she asked Radhika.
“No need for specific reasons.  Just the pure desire of getting tonsured in a holy place like Tirupati is sufficiently good reason.  I have wanted to do it ever since I joined work before marriage.  But I never got the guts to ask you.  Now this coincidence has filled some courage in me about it and intensified my desire to do it.  So I have raised the topic.”
“Let us do it then.  All the six of us will get shaved including dear Nagu.” ruled Ramanan firmly. “When shall we go to Tirupati then?”
“Shubhasya sheeghram.  Earlier the better.  Why not the coming Friday and Saturday?” butted Venkatesan.
“Okay, the kids have holidays anyway.  I will apply for leave on Saturday and we will leave on Friday evening itself” said Radhika.
“But we have Shalini’s wedding in first week of May.  Why not do it after that?”  asked young Ranjan.  Shalini was a cousin of Ranjan and Pratima.
“Marriages come and go.  If we tailor our life to such things we may not be able to do many things in time.  What if we receive another invitation or two before Shalini’s marriage?  We are going to offer hair to God and there is nothing wrong in appearing bald at the marriage.  Rather, some of the punya we get by becoming mottais in Tirupati will rub off on the young new couple.  Let us do it this Saturday” said Nagamani.  Suddenly her subconscious desire to get tonsured made her more eager to do it early.
Thursday morning Shanti told Radhika that on Tuesday evening she went to Natarajan’s house and met his wife, Sukanya and 18 year old daughter, Ananya.  Both were surprised to see that a young shaven headed woman could look so good.  “Yesterday Natarajan thanked me for visiting his house saying that at least Ananya got interested in doing it and she will do it at the opening of next academic year”.
Bodi Radhika
So, on that Saturday the six of Radhika’s family got clean shaved at Kalyanakatta in Tirupati.  It was a superb experience for Radhika when her locks started falling and grazing her cheeks.  Nagamani also felt elated getting tonsured.  She said that if it was known that getting a tonsure at Tirumala is such a good spiritual experience she would have done it several times by now.
After coming back Radhika made some decisions and announcements to her family.    For a few more years she and Pratima would sport short machine-cut boycuts done in a barber shop.  Everybody giggled.  One more Tirupati shave for both when Pratima crosses eleven years of age and for six months thereafter Pratima would be rendered smoothly bald every month to make her hair dense and possibly long when allowed to grow.  Some more giggle from Pratima herself. Thereafter, no haircuts for either of them till Pratima completes 10^th class when both would again offer their hair at Tirupati.  Pratima reacted “Oh, fine”.  Venkatesan was elated to know that his dear wife would sport boycut for some time which he had been secretly fantasising.
A bald Radhika, without any covering on her smooth grey head, again took the same route on Monday – to Ramanathan’s place on his bike, to Pallavi’s place, of course by bus this time and to Shanti’s house saying ‘The fourth mottai family for you’.  This time it was she who distributed prasadam, showed around her bald head which was caressed by Kusuma, her twin daughters, Pallavi, Murali, Shanti, her mother, ‘mottai’ Preeti and even Raju.  In fact, Pallavi and Shanti were ecstatic in seeing their dear ‘Akka’ also go bald so happily.  With her lovely face, kumkum, nose stud, ear rings and saree her bald head gave her a very clean and decent appearance.
Most of her colleagues have lauded her courage.  Her equals started lovingly calling her ‘Bodi Radhika’. And she is happy with that epithet. That an accomplished female mechanical design engineer with traditional attire and a freshly tonsured head corrects the drawings of juniors, discusses engineering aspects with peers and superiors and gives a PPT presentation of her design to her seniors speaks volumes of her conviction that professional females getting religious tonsure and displaying it is a respectable thing to do.
Nithya’s mottai
Shalini’s wedding was just two weeks after Radhika’s family mottai.  In two weeks all had grown about 6 to 10 mm of hair.  Shalini’s mother Nithya is Radhika’s cousin and is elder to her by 13 years.
The entire family of Radhika went to Shalini’s marriage with quarter inch turfs on their heads.  Many could not recognize them.  22 year old Shalini and 44 year old Nithya were pleasantly surprised at the beautiful face of Radhika with her almost bald head, silk saree, bindi, nice jhumka and nose stud.  Shalini’s mom hugged Radhika saying ‘Radhu, how beautiful you look like this!  I also will do this after Shalu’s marriage!’ Lo and behold! A week after Shalini’s marriage, Nithya, her husband and their 20 year old son went to Tirupati and all got fully tonsured.
Bald Ananya
Early June, Shanti told Radhika that her boss Natarajan’s family also did family mottai.  His wife who was against it finally had a change of mind and joined her daughter and husband in early June in shedding the hair at Tirupati.  Shanti told that Ananya is ecstatic about being bald for the first time in her life.  She would do it again after her marriage, she has vowed.
‘Machine Cut’ Radhika
Three months later, on a Sunday, Radhika took Pratima to the nearby barbershop where she used to take Ranjan for his haircut.  The barber was astonished to see the two females with short hair.  There was the usual Sunday crowd.  Many giggled and many ogled at these two.  Radhika simply smiled back and sat down waiting their turn.
When their turn came, Radhika pushed young Pratima into the chair.  She told the barber ‘machine cut on sides and back, very short on top, like boys’.  He pumped up the chair, draped the young girl, took electric clippers with half inch attachment and ran it all over the girl’s head.  Pratima was smiling at the sensations. The three month growth of about 2 inches was reduced to half inch all over. Then the barber took out the attachment and with bare blades balded the sides and back of the girl a bit high up making a boyish crew cut.  It looked cute on the young girl who was happily all over herself with the sensational haircut she just now had.
Then to the astonishment of all, Radhika sat in the chair.  She said ‘machine on sides and back, top just sufficient for combing into a boyish crop’.  The barber draped her, combed her hair, clippered the sides and back to about an inch above the top of ears, scissored the top neatly to merge with sides and back and produced a neat clippered boy cut on Radhika.  She was ecstatic after the cut.
All at home and office appreciated her looks with a male haircut and female attire.  Her colleagues started calling her ‘Machine Cut Radhika’ or MCR for short.  Many advised her to keep the style as it looks really good on her.  She happily said ‘Thank you’ to all such people and said she would abide by their wishes.
Since then Radhika sports a monthly machine boy cut which looks very good on her.  And everybody in her office calls her MCR or MCR Madam.  She is very happy being called like that.

She's Having a Haircu

It's over Jen - last night was the final straw. I've had it."
 
I'd known I was in big trouble but it was just a personality thing. Since my early teens I'd enjoyed flirting - it was just part of who I was and I really couldn't help myself. However, I knew I'd gone too far last night when Kat had stormed out of the party after seeing me with my arms wrapped around Zak. Of course, there was nothing in it, other than a bit of harmless fun. Kat had been my partner for over two years and I loved her deeply. I regarded her as my soul mate as she was the first person I'd ever met who seemed to truly understand me. More than two years into our relationship and I still looked forward to spending time with her, talking to her, exploring her, being with her - and of course fucking her. I knew I had let her down badly but I couldn't contemplate her leaving.
 
"I'm sorry Kat - truly. I think I had too much to drink but I know that's no excuse. I embarrassed you and I shouldn't have done. Please let me make it up to you - you know how much I love you. I know I flirt too much but I don't mean to - I don't want anyone else, only you."
 
"You should have thought of that then shouldn't you? Have you any idea what it's like for me to see you hanging off someone else when you're supposed to be my partner? This is one time too many - let's face it, you're not going too change so let's just call it a day and go our separate ways. You know Jen, I always thought you were the one, but I just can't take it any more. I've had enough. It's over."
 
I felt my stomach turn over as Kat walked away from me towards the bedroom. I could feel tears welling in my eyes, but deep down I knew she was right. I enjoyed flirting with people - and liked nothing more than to have people look at me. I loved the short skirts I wore, the halter tops and my boots - over 30 pairs in the wardrobe at the last count. I rarely went out without makeup and I was very aware of my own sexuality - I was attractive and I knew it. However, none of that mattered now - the only thing that did was Kat and she was preparing to leave. I followed her into the bedroom. She was packing as I entered.
 
I gazed at her longingly. "Please don't go. I'm genuinely sorry about last night - I truly didn't mean to hurt you. I want to be with you Kat, and I'll change - I promise."
 
"Heard it all before Jen, think we had a similar conversation a couple of months ago - you just can't help yourself - you won't change, you never do."
 
"Please Kat, I can, give me the chance to prove it to you. I want to spend my life with you - surely that should count for something?" I was shaking by now as I waited for her response.
 
She stared at me intently for what seemed an eternity and finally retorted " Okay. Prove it then."
 
"Thank you" I whispered. I moved across the room aiming to give her a hug.
 
" I don't think you understand Jen - I want you to change - today. Clothes, hair, the works - think of it as a makeover, only I get to decide how you look. If you're serious about changing then prove it to me."
 
I shrugged my shoulders. "Okay, anything - what do you want me to do?"
 
" Get yourself ready, wear your favourite clothes - you can change as we shop. Put some make up on - I want to see you at your very best."
 
Forty five minutes later I was ready to go - freshly showered and wearing a low cut white top, short leather mini skirt and knee high boots to match. My naturally curly shoulder length blonde hair was tied back in a neat pony-tail and Kat had helped me apply my make-up. I felt wonderfully feminine but I was still a little worried about what Kat had planned for me. She was refusing point blank to tell me anything.
 
We drove into town and our first stop was a clothing store. But instead of browsing the blouses, skirts and dresses as usual, Kat chose me a white polo shirt and some very narrow jeans. Kat made me change in the shop, and when she was confident we had the sizes correct, she bought me 5 more polo shirts in different colours and 2 more pairs of jeans. I emerged from the shop wearing my new top and jeans, though they felt really uncomfortable as I rarely ever wore jeans. Kat insisted that the polo shirt was buttoned to the top and the collar chafed against my neck. Suddenly I wasn't enjoying this shopping trip anymore, but I knew what the consequences would be if I complained. Next stop was a shoe shop where I exchanged my leather boots for a pair of Doc Martens. Most of the boots I wore were fairly light, and again the heavy feel of the Doc Martens made me feel uncomfortable. Kat instructed me to keep the Docs on with the jeans tucked into them as we left the shop and moved off again up the street.
 
As we passed a bin, she told me to throw my old top, skirt and boots into it. I was starting to panic by now. Kat's behaviour was totally uncharacteristic of her but I was prepared to do anything to keep her - including disposing of my favourite clothes. Next was a drugstore, and here Kat instructed me to go to the bathroom and remove all of my makeup. On exiting the bathroom, she told me that I'd be having my ear pierced - not both, but only the left. I'd never had my ears pierced before and it was quite exciting to have it done - though a bit strange having only one pierced. She requested a stud earring for me and once fitted we left the shop. I felt really strange now - no makeup and clothes I wouldn't have chosen to wear in a million years. I knew this was her way of teaching me a lesson so I was prepared to go along. I was sure tomorrow would be back to normal but I hadn't anticipated her next surprise. Turning left along a street I had never been on before, Kat stopped abruptly and told me that if I mouthed a single word in the next shop, she wouldn't be coming home with me. Having agreed to her instruction, she pointed across the street and said "that's our next stop - Pete's Barber Shop."
 
Without pausing for breath she marched across the road and held open the door of Pete's Barber Shop for me. The day had become completely surreal and now I was actually becoming quite scared. A barber shop was an alien environment to me, having always been pampered in a beauty salon up to now. The inside was surprisingly bright and airy, not what I had imagined at all from the outside. There was no sign of anyone called Pete - the only person inside the shop was a girl in her early twenties, sitting in a barber's chair and reading a magazine. She smiled as we entered " Hi, come on in, are you ladies looking for haircuts today?"
 
She was very pretty, and under normal circumstances I'd have been looking forward to chatting with her and getting to know her, but today was anything but normal and we both waited for Kat to speak.
 
"Hi, I'm Kat and this is my girlfriend Jen - she's having her hair cut today - can you fit her in?"
 
For a moment there was a slight look of confusion on the girls face - I think she had anticipated that it would be Kat getting her hair cut as Kat's hair was already quite short. However she recovered quickly and said ` no problem at all, why don't you take a seat in the chair and I'll get started straight away?"
 
I slowly made my way to the large barbers chair as Kat took up a position between the chair and the waiting area. The girl introduced herself as Gina as she wrapped a piece of tissue around my neck and draped a large black cape over me. I looked down at my new Doc Martens and then at the very strange image of me that was reflected in the mirror. With a smile Gina glanced at the mirror and asked the killer question " so what can I do for you today?"
 
I could only stare as Kat moved towards us and in a very firm voice said " she's having a butch."
 
I had no idea what a butch was, though didn't like the sound of it. I sensed the dynamic in the shop had changed as Gina had quickly grasped that Kat was in charge and I was being punished for something. I detected malice in her voice as she grinned at Kat and said "you got it, I'll soon have her nice and butch for you."
 
She ignored me completely as she picked up her scissors and moved behind me. I could feel my pony-tail being pulled back and I knew I was about to lose it. There was a loud `schnick' and suddenly it dropped on the cape in front of me. In the mirror she was smiling, as if really relishing this situation. I was truly scared now and my fear increased tenfold as I watched Gina pick up a set of clippers and fit a small plastic comb to the end of them. I stared at the mirror in sheer terror as they hummed into life and Gina moved them closer to my head. The buzzing noise got louder and louder as the clippers got closer and closer and I jolted in horror as they touched the front of my head. Gina swept them over the top of my head and it was all I could do to stop from crying out as my hair began to fall around me on to the cape. I begun to cry, but nobody paid any attention and Gina carried on with the haircut, occasionally pulling my head roughly back and forward, and from side to side. The clippers continued to sweep over and over the top then up the sides and finally the back. My shoulder length blonde hair was now mostly lying in my lap, with only short stubble remaining on my head. I couldn't see myself properly through the tears but I knew it was almost over as Gina was brushing me down with a neck duster. With a mocking tone I heard her say "there we go, nice and butch, just like you wanted."


 
I felt a hand rubbing my head and looked up to see Kat roughly stroking my stubbly scalp. In that same firm voice I heard her turn to Gina and say " you know what, I think the butch is just a little too long - can you make it a high and tight? Take it down some more and white wall the back and sides please."
 
Again, this terminology meant nothing to me, other than it meant my hair was going to be even shorter. I couldn't understand why Kat was doing this to me - maybe I had deserved to be taught a lesson, but this felt like utter humiliation. It was Gina's turn to rub my head as she turned to Kat and said "if I white wall the back and sides I'll need to take it quite a bit shorter on top too." Hearing this, I felt sick to the pit of my stomach - how much shorter could it possibly go.
 
"No problem" said Kat, "go for it."
 
I watched as Gina made an adjustment to the clippers and shuddered as she began to run them over my head once again. Short, fine hair began to drift down over the cape and I was suddenly aware of how light my head now felt and a soft breeze in the barber shop. I thought I was done as the humming of the clippers had stopped and I knew that my hair had now been clipped fairly close to my scalp all over. Little did I know I was just about to find out what the term `white walled' meant.
 
Gina picked up another smaller pair of clippers, this time with no plastic comb on the end and moved round to the left side of my head. When she switched on these clippers, the humming was more high pitched and got louder as she started clipping just above my left ear. Slowly and methodically she ran the clippers up to the top of my head, starting at the left side, working around the back and then over to the right side. In the mirror I could see pale white skin being revealed and I began to cry again. The realisation that almost all of my hair was being shaved off was too much for me to take. Ignoring my tears, Gina again pulled my head roughly as she worked to wrap a hot towel around it. She smiled over at Kat, and stated "this sure is some haircut you're giving her - guess she must have really pee'd you off", and again it was as if I wasn't there.
 
I heard a whirring sound and then Gina was behind me again, pulling off the towel and applying some gel to the back and sides of my head. Addressing me for the first time since she'd began, she said "you stay nice and still now and that way we'll avoid any accidents."
 
From the counter she picked up an open razor and again moved to the left side of my head. I was all cried out by now and utterly resigned to what was happening. The touch of the razor on my skin was repulsive, and once again Gina worked slowly and methodically - left side, back, then right side removing any last remaining traces of hair from the back and sides of my head. She shaved me twice just to make sure it had all totally gone. She then used scissors and clippers on the little bit of stubble I had left on top to blend it all together. After brushing me off, she finished the haircut by rubbing some strong menthol smelling lotion into the shaved parts of my head. Turning to Kat she asked "what do you think - is this what you had in mind?"
 
"It's wonderful" stated Kat mockingly "just what she's always wanted." She moved behind me and rubbed my head again, and this time I could feel her drawing her polished fingernails across the shaved areas.
 
"You know, if you ever want your own hair cut make sure you give me a shout. I'll make sure it's a little less butch than this one" said Gina, and with that they both laughed. There was a look that passed between them, and even in my current state I detected a hint of sexual chemistry.
 
Gina removed the cape sweeping all of the hair she'd removed from me onto the floor. I watched it sweep over my new Doc Marten boots and I felt like crying again. She brushed around the top of my polo shirt as I stepped awkwardly from the chair. In a leering voice, Gina once more rubbed the top of my head roughly and mouthed "now that's what I call a proper skinhead - you'll be used to it in no time."
 
I moved closer to the mirror to realise the full horror of what had happened to me and my hands shot instinctively upwards to my head. The back and sides of my head were completely and utterly bald. The smoothness felt repulsive to me, somehow unnatural, and the stubble on top was not much better. I could see my scalp through the stubble and I knew that from any sort of distance it would look as though my head was completely shaved. I could see the white of my scalp on the sides of my head gleaming in the mirror, almost shining and contrasting sharply with the slightly darkened skin tones on the rest of my face. I felt physically sick. And it wasn't just the hair. As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, it finally dawned on me what Kat had done. The image staring back at me was that of a young boy - she had taken my femininity. I had never, ever considered that she would have it in her to be this cruel. I looked at the contrast between how Gina looked, her hair, short summer dress, boots and make-up, and me looking like some type of extreme skinhead.
 
As Gina had been shaving me, more people had entered the shop and I now became aware that the waiting area had filled up. There were two men waiting, and a mother with two small boys. They were all staring at me, trying to work out I suspected whether I was a boy or a girl. They kept staring as I rubbed and rubbed at my shaven scalp trying to work out in my mind how all of this had happened. Suddenly one of the men in the waiting area shouted over in a loud voice " you got a thing for the Marines son?" and everyone in the shop, including Kat burst out laughing.
 
I could feel my face and neck reddening with the utter humiliation I felt and my eyes stung as I tried to hold back tears. Turning to Kat, I whispered in fury "I'll never forgive you for this - never" and with the laughter still ringing in my ears, I ran from the shop.
 
As I passed shop windows, I could see my reflection staring back at me, one that was still completely alien to me. I hadn't gone too far when Kat caught me up. I felt sure the first thing she would do was apologise but I was wrong again. I moved away as she tried to run her hand over my head again. She grabbed hold of me and said " I told you I wanted you to change and this is just the start. You've got a choice to make Jen - this is how I want you to look from now on and if you can't accept that then we go our separate ways here and now. But if you do and if you behave, I may even let you wear some of your old clothes occasionally. It's your choice."
 
I wanted to scream, shout, run, but all of my energy had completely been sapped away by the events of the day. Too tired to carry on the conversation and overcome with emotion, the only reply I could muster was "let's go home."
 
She wrapped her arms around me and said " I was hoping you'd say that. That haircut has made me so damn horny you wouldn't believe. I'm going to fuck you all afternoon."
 
And that's exactly what she did.

Six months had passed since that fateful day in Pete's Barber Shop, but my hair had not changed. I'd stupidly thought that once Kat had completed her punishment things between us would get back to normal. Again I was wrong. On the day that Kat had had my hair shaved to an extreme high and tight, she had also purchased a set of clippers from the drugstore. It had now become a Friday night ritual to cut my hair, cropping the top with a number one guard and shaving completely the back and the sides. I still hated it but had grown more used to it and now accepted that this was my look. Kat relished our Friday's and shaving my hair turned her on big time. After shaving we'd fuck passionately and then have a shower together before getting dressed and going out to a club or to dinner. My clothes hadn't changed either - it was always regulation polo shirts, narrow jeans and Doc Marten boots - I now had four different pairs of these. All of this was at Kat's instruction - the clothes I had worn prior to THAT day she had mostly given away to charity shops. I got strange looks wherever I went but Kat was insistent that it didn't matter and all that did was that she loved me as I was.
Despite our passionate sex, our relationship had changed. I was no longer as deeply in love with Kat as I had been - her cruelty had changed things between us forever. I still had feelings for her but I was growing more and more unhappy as time passed. Since the day of the change, my confidence had diminished and the vivacious, bubbly personality that I'd once had was almost totally gone. Since that initial extreme haircut, I'd become the butt of jokes at work, and earned the nickname `G.I. Jen'. The first week afterwards had been horrible - people had laughed openly at my new look, others had sniggered behind my back and on more than one occasion I'd been referred to as `the butch lesbian'. Most people now thought I had some sort of weird fetish, and most just treated me with complete disdain. I'd lost all my energy and enthusiasm and my work was suffering as a result. I'd often find myself crying in the toilet cubicles and I could no longer bear to look at myself in the mirror.
Kat on the other hand was positively flourishing. Our roles had changed and now she was the flirtatious one. She'd often taunt me at parties with the remark "funny how nobody flirts with you now - lucky you've still got me."
Kat had grown in confidence and in terms of our relationship was now much more dominant. She made the choices, took the decisions and was very firmly in charge. At work she was doing well also and had recently been promoted. On the night of her promotion she'd allowed me to wear some of my old clothes to go out and celebrate with her. However, it was back to normal the following day and on with the polo shirt again. At times I felt I was shrinking into myself but I couldn't see any way out.
One Friday night, Kat came home very excited and announced that in four weeks time she'd be travelling to Europe to make a series of presentations for her company. She'd been chosen for this above three other people and that this would be a major step forward for her career. She would be away for three and a half weeks. I was very happy for her but I was even happier at the prospect of three and half weeks on my own. I could hardly wait for her trip to arrive. We fucked passionately that night, but for the first time in six months I'd made it through a Friday evening without having my hair cut. In fact Kat was so obsessed with getting her presentations right, she spent every waking moment on them and I managed to make it through the entire four weeks with no hair cut. The weeks passed quickly and suddenly it was the day of her trip.
I drove her to the airport on a Monday morning and as we said our goodbye's I felt as excited as a giddy teenager. With a spring in my step I jumped in the car and drove in to town. Unknown to Kat, I'd arranged to take the rest of the week off work and my first thoughts were on a bit of light shopping. It was a fantastic morning - I bought a cropped top, a short burgundy skirt and an expensive pair of boots, changing into each of them as I bought them. I couldn't help but notice as I changed my clothes that my hair was longer than it had been for some time - though still brutally short. I knew I'd have to ditch these new clothes before Kat returned but it was just so good to feel feminine again, even if for only a short time. I stopped off for a coffee at an Italian deli, sitting at a table outside and watching the world go by. Life was good again.
I spent a few more hours shopping, trying out new lipsticks and browsing around clothes stores. Lost in my thoughts, I took a left turn and there facing me across the street was the scene of my haircut humiliation - Pete's Barber Shop. My first urge was to turn and run, but curiosity got the better of me. Very slowly I found myself moving towards it, curious to see if it had changed any, and whether `she' was still there. As I drew nearer, the memories of that hurtful day rushed back and it was surreal to glance in the window and see her sitting in exactly the same position as she had been that day - leaning back in the big barber's chair, and reading a magazine. Without even realising, I found that I'd opened the door and had ventured into the shop. I had to know if she remembered me - if she'd had any idea what she had done. She said "Hi - come on in - I'm Gina. Are you having your haircut today." With that she rose from the chair and began walking towards me.
She hadn't recognised me -yet, but as she got closer I could almost see her mind turning over in trying to place me. My hair was a bit of a giveaway and finally I could see the recognition in her eyes as the memories came rushing back. " Why you're the little skinhead - almost didn't recognise you without your butch clothes on. You here to clean up that Jarhead?"
I could feel my face and neck reddening and the stinging sensation at the back of my eyes. I had nothing to say to this woman - in fact I had no idea what I was doing here. As a single tear rolled down my face, I managed to mouth "you bitch" before turning my back and heading for the door. I wanted to get away from here as fast as possible.
I'd half-opened the door when she suddenly shouted "wait - please. I'm sorry." I turned back around and watched as she moved towards me. As she got closer she reached out her hand to me and said " I'm sorry - for what I said just now and what happened before when I cut your hair. I felt so bad about that afterwards. Any chance we can start again - you look like you could use a friend?"
I hesitated, then closed over the door and reached out and shook her hand " I'm Jenny, you probably don't remember my name - I certainly remember yours Gina."
She smiled at me and said "good to meet the real you Jenny - I really am sorry for that day. I don't know what got into me - well actually I do. Why don't I close up for an hour and we can talk - d'you fancy a coffee?"
I nodded and Gina pulled down the blinds and locked the door. She went in the back and returned with two frothy cups of coffee. "You mind if I smoke" she asked " I don't normally smoke in the shop but I could really use a cigarette?"
I nodded again and she lit up. I was reminded again just how attractive she was as I studied her up and down. She broke the silence by saying " so tell me, what made your girlfriend do that to you?"
Over the course of the next two hours I unburdened my soul to Gina. For over six months I'd been holding my emotions in check and now they burst forward like water through a hole in a dam. I talked and talked, occasionally stopping to cry or collect my thoughts, and Gina listened attentively, stopping at times to put her arms around me and hug me to her chest. She rubbed my back and my head, and this time her touch was ever so gentle. So much so, that I was becoming aroused. She couldn't believe that Kat had been so cruel, having assumed on the day, that Kat had caught me sleeping around and cheating with someone else. "I've been cheated on before" smiled Gina " so I thought I knew exactly what she was going through and that's why I was so cruel to you - I'm just so ashamed of how I treated you. What kind of person is she - you flirted with someone and she turned you into a guy - I just can't believe it. I'm really sorry honey."


She wrapped her arms around me again as I began to cry once more. Through my tears I looked her in the eye and said the words that I'd been thinking for a number of months " I don't know what to do - I still have feelings for her, but I don't think I can live with her anymore."
"Then don't - there's nobody forcing you Jenny. In fact if you'd let her go that day, then none of this would have happened. Relationships fall apart all the time - you need to be yourself, wear your own clothes, grow your hair, become an independent person again. You've got beautiful features - you know you're attractive, and all you have to do is make the break." With a grin she said " I'll even help you burn those butch clothes if you want - it's probably the least I can do." With that we both burst out laughing. " On a serious note", she continued, "Kat is trying to control you and you shouldn't let that happen. If she loved you and respected you then she'd let you live your life the way you wanted - I think you really need to break it off. Not unless you want to spend the rest of your life looking like an extra from Full Metal Jacket."
Her sense of humour was infectious and it was so great to be laughing uproariously again.  Before I realised what I was doing I had pulled her towards me and was kissing her passionately on the lips. We broke apart and she kissed me on the forehead. "We can do that later, but for now we need to make sure we've got you sorted out. How do you feel about ending it with her."
" I suppose I've been thinking about it for a while, but I just didn't have the courage to take that final step. I really was beginning to feel depressed so deep down I suppose I knew it was over. I still don't know how I'll tell her - I don't think she'll take it too well."
"Then don't tell her - go home, pack your things, have a butch burning ceremony and leave - let her come home to an empty apartment and she'll soon get the message. You can talk to her later after you've made the break. In the meantime, I've got a spare bedroom if you want to stay with me for a while or I'll help you find your own place. I still feel bad about my part in this so I'd like to help you out if I can. I'd even offer to fix up your hair, but there's not much of it to fix up."
I rubbed my hand over my bristly scalp - "you mean I can't have a perm then" and we both laughed again.
She was staring at me intently " you know, there is something you can do" she said  - "a symbolic gesture if you like, that is if you are making a clean break of it. I've known women to have done this before."
"Done what before?"
"Shaved it - totally. Just taken it all off as a way of liberating themselves from the past. Wouldn't look a great deal different from what you have now, but it would be a way of making a fresh start, and you could start growing it out to whatever style you want afterwards."
I wandered over to the mirror and looked at my reflection. Even with four weeks of growth, my scalp was still visible through the stubble on my head. For six months the back and sides of my head had been shaved totally clean each week, so the only difference really would be in taking down the 3mm of stubble on top to bare scalp. The word `liberation' was echoing round in my head. I wanted to be free again, and having made my decision I turned to Gina and said "do it - shave it all off."
"Only if you're sure honey - you don't have to if you don't want to. It was just a suggestion."
"No, I want to. Besides, a shaved head has got to look better than this Jarhead look! Do it Gina - liberate me."
"It'll be my pleasure Jenny - hop up into the chair and make yourself comfortable. You know, lots of women look good with a bald head. If you've got the right facial features - and you have - and with the right clothes and makeup you can look stunning."
"I'll take your word for it" I whispered as I climbed into the chair.
Gina wrapped the black cape around me, and I watched as she removed a guard from the end of the clippers. "Never thought I'd see you sitting in my chair again" she said as she brought the clippers up to my forehead. "I'll make this as quick as I can."
The clippers made short work of my stubble, and just as in my previous visit, my hair began hitting the cape. The clippers worked fast and soon there was only the very finest of hair remaining on my head. Gina wrapped my head in a warm towel, massaging my shoulders as she waited for it to soften the bristles on my head. I closed my eyes with pleasure as her hands worked over me, moving slowly downwards towards my breasts. She stopped suddenly and removed the towel from my head. Getting some lather from the machine on the counter, she rubbed it slowly and gently over my scalp. Everything about this haircut felt much more sensual and I could feel my nipples hardening against the cotton fabric of my top. Gina had started with the razor and was making slow, steady strokes across my scalp. I couldn't believe that I was having my head shaved and enjoying it. I closed my eyes again, sinking into the chair as Gina continued her work, removing the last of my hair. Having shaved me once, she lathered my head again and took the razor to it a second time. I felt wonderful, sitting in the chair with my eyes closed, and Gina caressing the razor over my head.
Soon it was over, and having wiped me down with a towel, she massaged my scalp with the menthol smelling lotion. For a moment it stung, but this was soon replaced with a cooling sensation. Gina continued to rub and rub at my head, and I didn't want her to stop. Finally she did, and with a flourish swept away the cape. I looked at my image in the mirror, and a girl with a shiny bald head stared back at me. Though not a great deal different from my previous haircut in this chair, the removal of the stubble on top, had taken away a lot of the harshness, and there was a certain femininity about me. I rubbed my hands over it, and this time it felt sensational. I knew I wouldn't stay bald, but right now, I felt good about myself - more than that, it was just as Gina had described - I felt liberated.
Gina had moved behind me and I felt her hands on my shoulders again. With my newly shaved head I turned to face her and mouthed only two words - "kiss me." She gave me that smile, kissed me passionately on the lips, then slowly whispered in my ear "why don't you take off your clothes....?!"
To cut a long story short, I stayed with Gina that night, and we spent hours exploring each other's bodies, and drifting in and out of sleep. She had to work next day, but she closed early again and we went shopping together. We became close friends but didn't get together as a couple for many more months - I just didn't feel ready to rush into another relationship. I found my own place and moved out before Kat returned. I think she had half expected it and surprisingly we did remain friends. My hair has mostly grown back and is at collar length now. I'll never shave it again - but I do often sit in Gina's barber chair, laughing and joking with my new soul mate I haven't worn a polo shirt since my return to Pete's Barber Shop.
And I never did get an answer to a question that had bugged me since that very first day - Gina just tapped her nose and gave a short laugh each time I asked - "in the name of your shop, who the fuck is Pete"?!!!

---

Angela

PART ONE: MICHAELS SLAVE
"On your knees, slave!"
Meekly Angela obliged......
It had all started a week earlier. The 18 years old girl had met Michael at the introduction party for the new members of her sorority where Michael's fraternity had been invited. He, a senior student, had immediately been attracted to the girl with the long, thick and wavy dark hair, swinging joyfully when she twirled. He had asked her for a dance and they had danced all night. Angela had promptly fallen for the handsome and goodlooking young man. He lived in small apartment outside the campus and when the party was over Angela had accepted his invitation to follow him to cultivate their first meeting. She had not been drinking much but she wasn't accustomed to alcoholic beverages and felt somewhat light-headed and light-hearted.
Being in this high mood she had giggled when he kissed her and at the same time moved his hand under th seam of her skirt. That had made him audicious and he had pulled down her panties.
"Woa, you have a lot of hair there too."
Giggly Angela had said: ''Shave it if you don't like it.''
Boys had never made remarks about her pubic hair. Though, not many had seen it. After her first intercourse two years ago only a few had followed.
"Do you mind when I do?" he had asked and again she had sniggered: "You may have it all your own way with me."
He had produced a safetyrazor and carefully shaved off the hair from her mons, the labia around her vulva and the area around her anus. This had aroused both and soon they had been naked and screwing.
Hot, sweaty and beetred Anngela had said: "Wow, that has been the best sex I ever had."
Quickly she added: "Not that I've done it so often and never at a first meeting."
"And why this time?"
"I don't know, it just happened of itself. Do you think I'm a naughty girl?"
"Maybe we are both naughty," he had laughed. "You told me that I was allowed to have my own way with you and I did. Do you still stick to that?"
"Sure! What do you want?"
Seriously Michael looked at her: "Angela, would you be startled if I would ask you to become my slave?"
Just as seriously Angela had answered: "I am your slave already, Michael."
"Do you realize what it means?"
"Yes, I've to do anything I'm told without arguing. Only when I think your orders are out of proportion I have the right to speak a password to stop you."
"You know a lot. Have you been a slave to someone before?"
"No but I got interested when I had to write an article about bondage."
"You know that you have to live here with me? Do you really want to be my slave?"
"I told you that I consider myself being your slave. Yes, I do."
And thus she had become Michael's slave. In the morning she left for college and in the afternoon she returned to his apartment. As soon as she was inside she took off all her clothes just as Michael had ordered. He wanted to be served by a naked slave who had to crawl on hands and knees. Only when he allowed it she could stand and walk upright. Angela had to sit on the floor, preferably at the feet of her master unless she was granted consent to take a chair. During the meals she got a prepared dish or her master fed her. When visitors were expected Angela got permission to wear an oversized but short T-shirt to cover her nudity. If she behaved well Michael permitted her to sleep next to him in his bed, otherwise she had to lie on the floor next to his bed as a penalty. She had to ask her master consent if she wanted to speak to him.
Those measures were very humiliating but Angela possessed her soul in patience. More difficulty she found in having to do something that went against the grain with her:
"Give my friend a blow job" Michael ordered.
On hands and knees Angela crawled towards Matt and unzipped his trousers. His erect tool popped outside. Angelina didn't like it at all but she opened her mouth and closed her lips around the swollen glans. She hoped that he wouldn't spurt his load into her face and hair as had happened lately and she hadn't got permission to clean up herself. Indeed he didn't but came in her shirt causing a wet patch. During sometime she had the smell of sperma in her nose.
Afterwards Angela was sitting at the feet of her master while he was playing with a lock of her hair, searching for her ear and making it visible.
"It is a pity that such a fine treasure is hidden under all that hair," remarked Matt.
"Oh, that's easy to settle," Michael said, "Go and put up your hair," he told Angela.
She crawled to the bathroom.
"Do you still have those DVD's about radical make-overs?" Matt asked.
"Sure, want to see some?"
"Yeah. Did you show them to Angela?"
"Not yet."
"Would she be upset when they are showed to her?"
"I don't know. Anyway she gets to see them now."
The DVD's showed a number of girls with more or less long or longer locks, nearly all at least shoulderlength to waistlength. Gradually they were cut short, shorter and shortest, eventually ending with nothing at all.
The boys had observed Angela. Successively she had showed disbelief, then horror and at last excitement.
"Well slave, what do you think?"
"I think it to be such a waste. Why should they do this?"
By turns the boys threw out:
"Probably they were paid for it."
"They did lose bets."
"They had to be punished."
"No, some were laughing."
"Seeking publicity, the DVD brought out and selled."
"For fundraising."
"What does it matter?" Michael asked, "They did?"
Matt left and Michael took Angela with him to his bedroom. She noticed that looking at the DVD's had made him very horny.
Later she asked: "Would you like to shave a girls' head yourself?"
"I don't think it to be probable that the occasion would occur."
"But if a girl would be willing, for money for instance, would you do it?"
"Maybe. I like to look at these images but I've never thought of doing it myself."
"Do you want to do it to me?"
"No! I love and I like your long tresses. Look, I don't know those girls and why they do it. And I don't care. That makes the difference."
The next day, when they had lunch-time, Angela told her best friend Sharon about the DVD.
"Would you do such a thing?"
"No, never!"
Another girl heard them talking: "Well, for a 500 pound I would consider it."
Back at home Angela told Michael that she knew a girl who probably would be prepared to have her head shaved for a thousand dollars.
"What!?" Michael exclaimed angryly, "You are not allowed to speak to others about this. Go to the bedroom and wait for me. You are to be punished for this tresspass."
Angela said: "Yes master, I'm very sorry, I deserve a penalty."
She crawled, as a matter of course already naked, to the bedroom and awaited her master. He came and gave her a very short white tanktop which left her waist and navel free, a ditto black miniskirt, black fishnet nylons and a pair of red high heeled shoes.
"Put on a heavy make-up and go by bus to the address mentioned on this paper."
Angela knew that everyone thought her to be a whore and she was anxious about what she had to expect at the address which Michael had given her. She couldn't settle herself to take a seat in the bus as she was afraid that the short skirt wouldn't cover the naked parts of her thighs. People gazed at her, a guy leant against her and suggested to come with him.
"I'm on my way to a client," Angela answered.
When she came to her destination she noticed that she stood in front of a unisex hairdressing salon. Angela's heart sank.
"Hi, I'm Nancy," the girl at the reception greeted her, "And you must be Angela, we are expecting you. Come with me."
They walked to the back of the shop.
"Here no one will disturb us," Nancy said while closing the curtains of a booth. "Sit down, please," pointing at a barber chair. "Michael told me you have been shaved before."
No!!" Angela cried out, "I think I have to make a phone call."
"That's not appropriate at this moment," Nancy replied.
"Michael doesn't want my head to be shaved," Angela wailed, "I have to call him."
Nancy began to laugh: "Your head? No silly, your pubes. He said that it is time to reshave them. Please, put your legs on the armsupports."
Angela sighed relieved. Michael had scared her to death to teach her a lesson!
Surprised Angela saw one evening Matt enter in the company of a girl. Not one of his friends owing to her clothes which made her look like a cheap prostitute. Which she really was. Her hair was untidy, yellow discoulored with an outgrown perm and reached to her collar.
"Where d'ye want me?" she asked.
"In the bathroom," Michael answered.
"Can I first have my money?"
"Of course." Michael handed her 250 pound. "Better take off your s


weater," he said.The girl pulled her tight sweater acroos her head and unzipped her skirt: "Want no hair on my skirt as well."
Wearing only her panties, girtlebelt, stockings and shoes she sauntered languorously to the bathroom and let herself down on a stool. Matt had brought a pair of clippers which he handed to Michael. He didn't hesitate, pushed the girls' head towards her chest and put the clippers at her nape. Slowly he moved them towards her crown. Repeating the action a few times he denuded the backside of her head. The right and left side followed.
"Can you leave me some bangs?" the girl asked.
"Why not?"
Michael left some hair at the front and cut it straight with scissors just above her eyebrows creating a nice chelsea.
"Ready." The girl rose. "You look better than before," he noticed.
Which was true. Matt left with the girl.
"She owes him some of her services too," Michael said to Angela.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
However, during the next months the mutual attraction between the two lovers was fading away. No one was to blame, it just happened and after some time they split up.
Angela returned to her own apartment on the campus which she shared with her roommate Cindy.
Cindy spent most of the weekends at her boyfriends' place.
A few weeks after her return in her own apartment Angela was alone on a Friday night when the doorbell chimed. She looked through the peep-hole and saw Matt standing in front of the door and opened it.
"Hi Angela."
"What do you want, Matt? A blowjob?"
Matt grinned: "No, I want you."
"What do you want from me?" Angela asked surprised.
"Don't you ask me to come in?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Yes, please."
Matt followed her to the living-room: "Are you alone?"
"Yes, my roommate spends the weekend with her boyfriend."
"Great," he pulled a bottle of wine out of his pocket, "Perhaps I could cook us a meal."
Angela didn't know what to think. She repeated her question: "What do you want from me, Matt?"
"All of you." He grabbed her head and kissed her, poking his tongue into her mouth.
Embarrassed Angela fended him off: "I'm no longer a slave, Matt."
"Dead certain you are!" Matt spoke in a firm tone, "Once a slave, always a slave, girl."
He lifted her and without much ado carried Angela to the bedroom and put her down on her bed.
"No! You can't do that!" Angela cried while Matt stripped her to the skin.
"Oh yes, I can and I will, my sweet slave. I want you and I shall get you," Matt snarled at her while he spread her legs and screwed her.
Angela had no defence, Matt was too strong for her, as well physically as mentally and willy-nilly she submitted to him. The influence which he exerted on Angela made her will-lessly undergo her fate. Though she despised herself for it she even got aroused and Matt made her come......
"Are you hungry?" Matt asked while laying next to her, playing with a strand of her hair.
"No," Angela shook her head.
"Then let's drink some wine."
He rose to fetch the bottle and two glasses. He gave her a glass and let her down it. Then a second.
He fucked her again.
Angela woke up in broad daylight. Matt had gone but she found a letter which he had left ordering her to come to his place at four o'clock that Saturday afternoon.
"You should be dressed in a short tanktop, a short miniskirt, black fishnet stockings and high heeled court shoes. No underwear."
'Like a whore,' Angela said to herself. 'He acts as my master and I am expected to act as his slave.'
After lunch she washed and blowdried her hair. While she was brushing it she said aloud: "You needn't go."
But she knew that she would. -"Once a slave, always a slave"- She had no will of her own any more, though she feared what was in store for her. More than once Matt had alluded to it. -"Pity that those fine treasures are hidden under all this hair"- Isn't it unusual for a slave to have such a shock?"- "I want all of you."-
Angela was pretty certain that Matt would have given Michael information about the yesterday events and she imagined how a talk over the telephone could have passed off: "I've fucked you former slave."
"Congratulations."
"And I will take from her what I want: her most precious possession."
"I wish you luck."
"There you are, my naughty whore, you obeyed my orders like a good slave becomes."
Matt greeted her with a mischievous smile. Before Angela could say anything he gave her a small glass filled with a poisonous green coloured liquid: "Drink this."
Angela obeyed. It was strong and tasted sweet. Angela got dizzy and sank down on a chair which Matt had put on a strategical place. She had been very nervous when she had neared Matt's place but now every concern vanished. She felt care-free, careless and light-hearted. She giggled when Matt took off her tanktop and unzipped her skirt and she looked on how he tied with velcron tape her wrists to the armrests and her ankles to the chairlegs.
She didn't seem to care whatever he would do to her.
Matt gathered all of her mane into a huge ponytail high on top of her head. With a ribbon he tied it as near to the scalp as possible. Then he took a pair of Wahl clippers.
"They are about to go, your lovely and coveted tresses, a slave doesn't derserve to have such an adornment. I'm going to shave them from your head and make it as bald as an egg," Matt said with a malignant grin. He flicked on the switch, bent her head forward and moved the clippers from Angela's nape upwards to the base of the ponytail. So he let them circle around her head, every time finishing against the top of her head. At last he severed the big tail from her scalp. Nearly all of Angelina's locks were caught in it. Matt clippered any stray hair away and covered her naked scalp with a a towel, soaked in hot water. After a few minutes he took it away and spread shaving gel across her scalp. He shaved her head, lathered it again and repeated the shaving, taking care that her scalp became as smooth as a baby's butt.
He held up a mirror in front of Angelina and told her to look at her new appearance.
Angelina had suffered her humiliation motionless, without uttering a word or making any noise. Looking at her image her only reaction consisted of big tears trickling down her cheeks.
"And now, my baldheaded whore, put on your skirt and tanktop, we are going for a ride."
Apathetically Angela was siting on the passengers place. She didn't care that her short skirt had rided up to her groins, exposing creamy white thighs above the border of her black stockings. Nor did she care that Matt while driving put two fingers in her vagina and massaged her clit.
Matt halted in front of the dwelling of Michael.
"Oh my god," Michael exclaimed when he saw Angela. In a tearing hurry he took her in his arms, hugged and kissed her and rubbed her bald pate.
"You may have her ," Matt said, "I've got what I want. Good luck." He left.
But the two didn't hear him. Suddenly the smouldering fire of love flared up again and broke through Angela's lethargy. She began to sob uncontrollably, could not speak but clung to Michael as if she never more would let him go. Michael caressed her and consoled her speaking sweet words.
They couldn't get enough of each other and late that night or better early in the morning Michael told Angela: "You are so beautiful. How could I've been so stupid to let you go."
"Do you really think me to be beautiful without hair?"
"Darling, so many times I've wanted to see you with a shaven head but your luscious mane was so lovely that I would never mention it. But now that it has gone, wow, you look gorgeous. The shape of your head, your ears, your neck, all are perfect."
"Yes my love, I know about your fetish which is mine now too. You may shave my head as long as you want."
"From now on I'll be your slave."
Angela shook her head: "No, I don't want to dominate you. We should be tied to each other with the bonds of love on a base of equality. Do you agree?"
"Of course, my darling. Oh, I love you so much and I'm so happy that we are together again."
"Me too, my love, we should now always remain together."

SIX MONTHS LATER.

After their reunion Michael and Angela decided that they would live apart in their own apartments so that they wouldn't get too much distracted from their studies and to be together in the weekends only. Meanwhile Michael had graduated and had gained a job as a psychologist.

In the last week of November Angela woke up in the middle of the night with a nasty feeling in the lower part of her belly. She noticed that she was lying in a puddle and when she switched on her bedlamp she realized horrified that it was blood. Her own blood! Startled she called Cindy, her roommate, who immediately warned the caretaker on duty.

Mrs. Smith rushed in to look at Angela and went to the phone to ask for an ambulance. Then she called Angela's parents, George and Brenda, and Michael.

Michael arrived at the St. Elizabeth hospital soon after George and Brenda. Angela had got a tranquillizer and was lying limp and very pale in a snow-white bed.

"They are going to take it away from me," she said resigned and added: "Marriage is no longer necessary."

Michael kissed her: "We'll discuss that later, honey."

Two orderlies came to carry her to the operating-theatre and as soon as she had gone Brenda asked Michael: "Don't you want to marry her any more?"

"Oh, I do but is not me to decide, Angela has to do that. You know that I love your daughter but she agreed to to our marriage to give her child a father."

"You are a good man, Michael. I would really be sorry if you shouldn't become our son-in-law. Isn't that so, George?"

"It sure is."

"Well, we shouldn't urge her, she'll have a rough time and she has a lot to think about. Give her time."

"You are a psychologist," Gerge said, "So we leave it to you."


Before Angela was allowed to leave the hospital Michael spoke to her. Angela was apathetic, sad and depressive.

"It's only a few weeks to the Christmas holidays. Go for recovery to the home of your parents. They can take care of you."

Angela agreed. But she didn't feel at ease in this well-known environment. The protective attitude of her mother gave her a feeling of suffocation and irritated her.

"I want to be alone for some time," she announced, "but not on a lonely place."

She asked her father to rent a room in the city. She felt better in the midst of people which she didn't know.

Though her hair had grown somewhat as she hadn't more been shaved since her miscarriage it still was brutally short and Angela noticed that people were staring at her. Normally she wouldn't give it attention but in her unstable mental condition she couldn't cope with attracting too much interest and therefore she had bought a wig which made it easier for her to visit lunchrooms, restaurants, expositions, galleries, theatres and cinema's. Being on her own she sometimes was approached by men but she remained aloof. Only Michael was allowed to visit her.

One night Michael took her out for dinner and when he brought her back to her room Angela said: "I want you to stay, Michael and make love to me."

"Darling, I don't think this to be a good idea. You are not yet ready for it. You have enjoyed a fine dinner with a few glasses of wine and you are in high moods now but I'm afraid that you would regret afterwards having done something that could set you back. First you should find back your real self."

Angela was disappointed and didn't understand why lovemaking with her lover could harm her. But Michael remained adamant and Angela had to give in.When Michael had gone she stayed behind in disarray. She got angry and did something foolish. She tarted up herself, went to a nightclub, got tipsy, let herself pick up by a man and went with him to his home.

While they were cuddling on a couch Angela' wig shove aside but this didn't startle him. On the contrary, it excited him and he wanted to know why she had such extremely short hair. Giggling Angela told him the story: how Matt on that Saturday afternoon had tied her to a chair and had shaved her bald.

The next morning she hated herself. Full of aversion she fled out of the house with her host still asleep. She forgot her wig and back in her room she looked in the mirror. Her hair had grown to a length of about 3/4 inch.

'I look like a hedgehog,' she thought. A few blocks away from her room she had seen a trendy beautysalon, called "Bizarre". She made a phonecall and got an appointment in the afternoon.

"Ah mademoiselle, your hair is very short," Francois, the French proprietor, croon


ed, "too short for extensions."

"I know but what can you do to make me look a little nicer?"

"Ah, you are young and when you are a bit audicious, only a bit, the length of your hair could be made fit for geometrical figures. Or characters, your initials for instance.

Angela pondered: 'Initials, hmm, AM? Angela Mc Cauley? Or Angela and Michael.'

"How about a name? Michael?" she asked.

"Michael? Too many letters. Four or five is ideal, no more. But Mike, could you agree with that?"

 "Yes, that would be fine."

Angela had been thinking a lot about the events of last night. She felt ashamed and angry with herself. How could she have let herself behave in such a shameless way, only because she felt disappointed that Michael didn't stay the night? She had cheated on him! She should have to confess this to him and she would.

Meanwhile Francois meticulously was cutting the outlines of the characters with a pair of small scissors. At last he seemed to be satisfied. Angela couldn't see what he was doing as the M was situated above her left ear and the E above her left one. The I and K had been given a place at the backside.

With a pair of small clippers he began to shave away the hair around the letters. Angela had thought that the the letters would be cut out in her hair and when she realized that only the hairy letters would remain the only hair on her head it was too late.

Startled she exclaimed: "What are you doing?!"

Francois explained it to her.

"But I will be bald with the exception of the characters?"

"I'm sorry madam, you must have misunderstood but I can't go back on it now."

"Never mind, go ahead."

"To keep your caracters shapely you should come back to me every week," Francois told her when he had finished his activities.

Back in her room Angela called Michael and got his answering machine just as she has expected. She left a message: "Michael, would you please come to me tonight? I've been so stupid but I love you, I love you! Will you please inform me if you can't come?"

Michael didn't call and in the evening Angela nervously paced up and down the room. She had covered her head with a towel, folded like a turban.

When Michael arrived she began to cry: "Oh Michael, Iv'e done such a stupid thing. When you had gone I went out and ...oh, I'm so ashamed, I let myself pick up and..." Her words came as an avalanche but Michael interrupted her: "Sssssh, I don't want to hear that. I really am sorry that I left you alone yesterday but you needed a stimulation and obviously it took effect. Not in the way I had foreseen but nevertheless your depression was breached. So I am to blame too. Please, forgive me, darling."

Michael kissed her, then suddenly seemed to notice her covered head: "Why that towel on your head?"

Angela pulled it off and shyly said: "I did this for you."

 She began to explain that it had worked out differently from what she had expected but Michael didn't let her finish talking. He kissed her passionately: "You are so sweet and lovely."

"Will you still marry me?" she asked, wiping away her tears.

"Of course, my love."

Angela laughed and clapped her hands: "When? Oh, let's do it tomorrow!" she cried out with youthful enthusiasm.

Surprised Michael answered: "I don't think that we can arrange that so quickly. Or we should have to travel to Gretna Green in Scotland."

"Oh yes, Michael, let's do that!"

"But what about your parents? They won't like it when we are married without a wedding party and everything else."

Angela didn't mind: "Afterwards this may be organized, if necessary with a ceremony in the church. But tomorrow it has to be our day, for us alone."

"Well, we could fly to Gateshead early in the morning, rent a car and be married in the afternoon."

"Oh yes,yes!" Angela shouted with joy.

And so everything turned out well.

The end.

---

---

---

---

The Cueball Salon

"You are connected with the reception of Beautysalon Ramona. Good morning."
"Hallo,this is Vivian speaking."
"Hi Vivian, do you want to make an appointment?"
"Yes, only for a trim this time."
"Is it? Well, I could fit you in for five o'clock tomorrow afternoon. Does that suit you?"
"Yes, that would be great. But....errrr...do you think that Diana could take me? She is my favourite stylist, you know."
"I know. Well, I think so but I'm not sure. By the way, we have a new girl in the salon. She is very good too and I think she is free to take you."
"Mmmm...I don't know, I'm accustomed to Diana and ...well."
"Marsha likes to experiment with different styles. That's you do have a liking for too, don't you?"
Yes, Vivian liked to stunt with her hair. She had sported many different styles and colours but now her hair had to be restored and grow before she would try something else.
"Well Cindy, we'll see. Nevertheless I would appreciate it if you could arrange that Diana is free to do me."
"I'll do my best, Vivian. But Marsha really is very good."
"Oh, I don't doubt it but nevertheless....""
"Okay, okay! I told you I'll try. Ciao, see you later."
Why would Cindy try to force her to be treated by Marsha? Vivian was a little irritated. A stylist she didn't know at all!

---

Marsha was with her 28 years a little older than most of the other girls in the salon, Helen, Julie and Diana. Only Linda, the team leader, surpassed her in years. Although Marcia was the youngest by seniority she was very self-assured and sharpley aware of her qualities. Which she undoubtedly had but the other girls hated it that she was always making a display of her capacities.
"She should know her place," Julie said, "she has been here since six weeks and yet she behaves as if she is the leading lady."
It was lunchtime and only Marsha was still busy finishing a new hairstyle. At that moment Cindy, the receptionist, showed up.
"Linda, think of something to do," Helen supported Julie, "we are a good team and we want to keep it like that. Marsha should be teached a lesson."
"I've an idea," Cindy interposed. "Vivian has just called to make an appointment. She is scheduled for five o'clock tomorrow afternoon. I tried to persuade her to let Marsha take her but she insisted that Diana should be her stylist."
"That's right, she always wants me," Diana confirmed.
"I told her that you would possibly not be available at that time and that Marsha would be free."
Marsha just came in and hearing her name she asked: "Free to do what?"
Cindy explained the matter to Marsha.
"No problem," Marsha laughed, "I'll convince her, just leave that to me."
"That won't be so easy, Marsha," Diana contradicted her, "She always wants to be attended by me. I lay a wager that she will wait for me."
Marsha looked at Diana: "Okay, I'll bet you anything you like that I can persuade her to choose me."
"You are on," Diana answered.
"What if I win?" Marsha asked.
"Well, you think my hairstyle is too conservative. You may cut my hair in any style you want."
"Okay. And if you win you will cut my hair, I suppose."
"No I won't. If you lose you have to dance for us while stripping to your skin."
The other girls looked surprised at Diana. What was she up to? They all knew that Marsha had wanted to become a professional ballet dancer when she was young. Though she certainly was talented it just didn't reach to the required level. She had to choose another profession but in her spare time she practised jazz ballet.
Inquiring Marsha looked at Diana: "Only for you but further no onlookers."
"Except us only Vivian may stay if she wants."
"And that's all?" she asked incredulously. "Okay, it's a deal." They shook hands.

---

When Vivian arrived the next afternoon Cindy told her: "I'm sorry but Diana still is engaged. But I want you to meet Marsha of whom I spoke to you before. She indeed is free to take you."
"Well.... glad to meet you," Vivian wavered, "But I prefer waiting till Diana is available. Sorry, Marsha, but I'm very attached to Diana. Don't blame me for that."
Whatever Marsha tried, she couldn't persuade Vivian.
So Marsha had lost and had to dance and strip for the other girls, including Vivian!
It took not much time to give Vivian a trim and soon afterwards the last customer of that day left. Vivian had been asked to stay and watch; after all she had elicited the bet.
Cindy locked the door and closed the window screens so that nobody was able to look inside the salon. She selected a CD with appropriate music.
"Well Marsha, you may start your show," Linda said.
Marsha began to dance, in the mean time slowly undressing: her shirt, skirt, bra, shoes, stockings and at last her panties. After making a number of more movements she stopped.
"Are you satisfied?"
"No, you have not yet stripped to the skin," Diana answered.
"Well, I have nothing more to take off."
"Marsha, not all of your skin has been exposed. Parts of it are sill hidden."
Marsha's eyes widened when the meaning of these words sunk in.
"No! You can't do that to me!" she cried.
"Oh yes, the deal included a total stripping to the skin. Everyone present can confirm that."
"You won't cut my hair, that's what you have said."
"That's true and I will not do it. But Linda will."
"That's ridiculous."
"A deal is a deal, Marsha," Linda said.
Marsha pondered for some time and then she said: "I think I have no choice, have I?"
"None at all."
"Okay, do it. Shave me."
"What shall we do first, her pubic region or her head?" Diana asked.
"Pubes," Linda decided. "Sit down, Marsha and spread your legs across the armrests."
She pointed to a chair and Marsha obeyed. Linda caught a pair of small clippers and buzzed her pubic and perianal areas. Then she lathered and shaved them smooth. She told Marsha to lower her legs and to take up a normal sitting position. Next Linda took the Wahl clippers and switched them on, reached for the curly hair of Marsha that cascaded across her shoulders, bent her head to her chest and put the clippers at her nape. She moved them to her crown, path after path, leaving only stubble in its wake. After the backside of Marsha's head had been denuded Linda turned to the right side and then to the left. Wthin ten minutes all of Marsha's beautiful locks were lying on the floor.
"Do you want me to shave her head?" Linda asked Diana.
"It won't be necessary, her skin is adequately exposed," Dia


na answered."Shave me," Marsha unexpectedly declared, "I've always wanted to know how it feels when your head is shaved but never had the guts to do it. Now the opportunity is there. I'm already totally humiliated, shaving doesn't add any more."
"Okay, I"ll do it," Diana said. "Bald like a cueball you shall be. I hope it will teach you modesty."

---

"You are connected with the reception of The Cueball Salon. Good morning."
"Hi Cindy, Vivian calling."
"Hi Vivian, do you want to make an appointment again?"
"Not really. I received a prospectus announcing the new name of your salon. Why this change to Cueball Salon?"
"You initiated it with your column in the Daily Wanderer. Though you didn't mention names describing the event you witnessed some weeks ago in our salon some people recognized the location and were curious to see the result with their own eyes and that brought about a rush on us. You wrote about a stylist bald like a cueball and this brought the proprietor to the idea to transform the salon into a really progressive hairstyling one and change the name. Well, that's the explanation."
"I see. It sounds interesting."
"And there is an other change, Vivian. Linda didn't approve of the transformation and quit. Marsha is now the leading lady."
"Marsha!?" Vivian exclaimed. "That must put a heavy strain on the relation with the other girls."
"No, on the contrary. Her behaviour has improved since she is in control. The sky has cleared up and the girls accept her being in charge."
"You know Cindy, after all I think I want to make an appointment. Time for a change."
"There is little room, Vivian, but for you I'll make an exception. Tomorrow at one o'clock, does that suit you?"
"Marvellous, I'll be there."
"I'll see if Diana is free to take you."
"Oh, I'm sorry Vivian, I would prefer Marsha, if that's possible."

---

"Cindy! Is it really you? My god, what happened to your hair?"
"This is the Cueball Salon, you know? Everyone working here has to have a shaven head."
"That was the reason for Linda to quit?"
"Yes indeed, she refused to do it. Maybe her husband objected. Anyway, he has a good job that brings in alot of money. So she doesn't need the work properly. But we all had to choose: shave or leave."
"And they all shaved their heads?"
"No, Helen quit also. Diana and Julie agreed and there are two new stylists: Phoebe and Ray."
"Ray? A man?"
"Indeed. Soon we shall need more of them. The proprietor has bought the adjacent property and he will alter and equip it as a barbershop. He expects men to like it to have a haircut by bald girls. He thinks it will cause a run."
"Yeah, maybe. Tell me, the idea of bald stylists, has Marsha prompted this to the proprietor?"
"You mean as a revenge for shaving her bald? I don't know but it is possible. Whatsoever!"

---

"Hallo Marsha. I heard that you have got a promotion. Congratulations."
"Thanks Vivian. I must say that I'm amazed that you have asked for me to take you."
"That's not so surprising: I know that you like to experiment and so do I."
"And what do you have in mind to day?"
"I don't know exactly. Do you have an idea?"
"Certainly. This is the Cueball Salon, isn't it?"
"Does that mean.............?"
"Indeed. What do you think?"
"I leave it to you but I don't want to be totally bald."
"We could start with a Chelsea."
"How is that?"
"Trust me. You will keep some hair on the front: bangs. Also called: bald with a quiff. Is that okay?"
"I don't think so. Listen Marsha, the idea of a beautysalon with bald stylists entered your mind when you lost your hair and you spoke to the proprietor and persuaded him to adopt it. Isn't that right? You had nothing to lose and you had your revenge on the other girls who would be forced to have their heads shaved too."
Marsha had listened, smiling enigmatically:"The truth, Vivian, is different. The proprietor called me as he wanted to speak to me after he had read your article in the newspaper. It is you who brought him to this idea, not me."
Diana suddenly appeared: "Marsha is right, Vivian, in fact you are responsible for the change which carried with it the need for us to shave our heads."
Cindy joined them: "You were curious to see what the change implied and you made an appointment. But you asked for Marsha and not Diana. So you knew more than you seemed to know when you called me. Well, you are in the lion's den now and we think that you should at least declare you solidarity with us."
Vivian was amazed and felt uneasy.
"I had no intention to harm you by writing that article. I'm a journalist and it belongs to my work. I couldn't anticipate that it would have those consequences."
"Yeah, but they are reality. So, what will you do now?" Diana asked her.
"What do you expect me to do?"
Marsha interrupted: "Vivian, you did come here today for a haircut and you will get one but don't you think it to be right that you show your feelings of solidarity with us as I told you before?"
"You want to shave my head? But my job! My boss could fire me!"
"When he threatens you to do that you can always buy a wig. But why should he? I presume that he did read your column so he is well informed about the subject. And I suggested a Chelsea."
But Diana and Cindy objected: "We think she has to go all the way just like we had."
"Okay, you heard the verdict, Vivian. Your doom is sealed and I'execute it."
Vivian was trapped and she couldn't resist three determined women.
In a short time they had in a joint action Vivian's head changed into a beaming cueball.


"Huh?" Lorna had understood what the guy, who had taken a seat next to her in the bus, had said to her. But she didn't know what to answer. For the first time she made the journey in the Greyhound from New Jersey to Boston alone. In former years her mother had brought her or her grandmother had come to collect her when she spent the summer holidays there.
"I said that you could look much prettier by changing your hairstyle. I'm a stylist, you know."
"Are you? Well, I don't know........maybe....but my mother likes it this way.... At least I think so."
Lorna was 15, not a stunning beauty, at least not yet, but she had a pretty face which was framed by her long, straight dark coloured hair (by nature) which was parted in the center and was hanging down to her butt.
"You don't even know if your mother wants you to wear it like this? Well, you are a big girl. Did you never consider a change?"
"Not really. I never visited a beauty parlour, my mother always trims my hair when necessary."
It is true that Lorna envied girls with wavy or curly hair. She had rather fine hair and it hung down limply.
"Do you think a perm would do me good/"
"Hmmm....maybe but I should have to know more about the texture of your hair."
This was not what Ray, the guy's name, had in mind.
They chatted during the journey about this, that and the other. They exchanged their names and it came out that Ray worked in a beauty salon in Boston, the city where Lorna's grandmother was living. When he got off the bus he said: "In case you want to do something to your hair, the salon is called The Cueball."

Grandma's house was situated in a suburb, not far from the busstop. She came outside to wellcome her grandaughter: "Well, well, you didn't change much since the last time we have seen each other. Just a little taller."
Grandmother! It hardly was an issue to call her granny. Paula was 48 and looking younger with a slender body. There was some grey hair but it had been dyed into a dark colour. At the age of 15 she had got pregnant and could not marry the student who had been responsible. His father had bought her out for $ 15000, which had been reasonable. An abortion was out of the question, so she raised her daughter alone, supported by her parents. When she was 20 she married a grocer, a widower who was 30 years older. She had been his shopgirl. She didn't love him but he treated her well. His wish that she sould give him a son and successor was not complied. Her daughter Patty remained her only child. Her husband died some ten years later and Paula took over the grocery which had expanded into a supermarket. Paula developed enough business qualities to establish a number of supermarkets at several places in the city. Some years ago she had agreed with a take over by a federal supermarket chain and had got a position in the board of directors.
"Hi Paula, still going strong, I see," Lorna said, kissing her grandmother.
"How was your trip? No trouble with changing?"
"No problems. I'm no more a child, you know."
Paula smiled, she loved her granddaughter. But she had to be protected for the fate that had hit herself and her daughter Patty.
Patty, Lorna's mother, now was 32. She too had caught an unwanted pregnancy at a young age. She had been 16 at that time and it had been her own fault. She had been careless with contraception and she could choose the creator out of three possibilities. She had not been a slut but she had many boyfriends and regularly sexual intercourse with some of them, her sexual behaviour being very liberal. Fortunately one of her boyfriends took care of her and they lived together for a number of years. Later she was married but divorced about two years later. At present she lived together with Jim who was two years younger than Patty. For his work he had to travel much, also abroad, and often was away for days or even weeks.
"Do you have a boyfriend, my dear?"
"Not really, Paula. I'm acquainted with a lot of boys and some want to date me but mom doesn't approve."
"Right she is! Your time will come, you are young enough."
"But I'm already fifteen, Paula!"
Paula though about her own youth and that of Patty. Both were dating boys at an early age and look what had happened to them! No, that shouldn't happen to her grandaughter if she could help it!
Lorna told her grandma about the hairdresser in the bus and his remarks about her hair.
"A new look? Which one?"
Lorna shrugged: "I don't know. But I would like a change, I think now it is boring as it is. I have this style since I don't know how many years. But mom doesn't allow me to visit a beautysalon. What do you think about a perm?"
"I don't think it to be good idea, darling. How about a shorter style?"
"Do you think mom would approve?"
"What is the opinion of Jim?"
Again Lorna shrugged: "I don't know. He doesn't speak to me often anyway."
"Why not?"
"Well, maybe he is afraid to make my mother jealous."
Yes, Paula thought, that's a point. A young girl, not notoriously beautiful but nevertheless cute and likely attractive to a man, in the same house! Perhaps Patty didn't want her daughter to change her hairstyle for that reason: it might increase her appeal. No, not a perm, a short cut, very short, that would be better!

---

"Sit down, sweetheart, let me see how I could dress your hair."
Paula began to brush Lorna's tresses and the girl relaxed. Next she pinned up her hair and fixed it with hairgrips and small combs. She gave Lorna a handmirror and let her look.
Lorna frowned: "I don't like it, it looks foolish."
"Maybe you're right. You look much older too."
Paula pulled out the pins and let the limp strands fall down across her back. She gathered the bulk into a ponytail. Suddenly Lorna felt her grandma pulling the tail taut and she heard the sound of cutting through hair. Startled she jumped and turned towards Paula, only to see her triumphantically holding the severed ponytail in one hand.
"Why did you do that?" Lorna wailed and while she began to cry she reached with both hands for her head...........
She woke up with a start. A bad dream, a nightmare! Her locks were still at


tached to her scalp. Lorna sighed reassured. The experience had been horrifying but when she though about it she became aware of another emotion. The sudden and unexpected event had startled her but basically had aroused her too.........Next morning she told Paula her dream.
"Maybe a haircut wouldn't be such a bad idea," Lorna stated, "But what would mom say?"
"Well, she is on vacation with Jim and she has left you under my supervision."
"Would you allow me to visit a beautysalon?"
"Why not? But only for a haircut, no perm or dying or whatsoever. Do you understand?"
"Yes granma, only cutting," Lorna answered obediently.

---

Lorna took the bus to the Cueball Salon. She would inquire after Ray and see if he could help her. She had no idea of the course of events in a salon. The first one she saw was the receptionist.
"Hi, I'm Cindy. Do you have an appointment?"
Lorna lookd at her wide-eyed. The girl's head was as bald as a ........cueball. Lorna gazed at her flabbergasted and Cindy had to repeat her question.
"Oh.....no....I'm wondering if Ray.......if I could speak to him."
"Ray? Usually he works here in the salon but today he is next door in the barbershop. You may enter there without an appointment."
"A barbershop?" Lorna gasped. "Don't only men enter there?"
"Not necessary, though most of the clients indeed are males," Cindy smiled, "Don't worry, it is the same business."
Reluctantly Lorna entered the shop. Fortunately she saw one other woman in the waiting area, a blonde of about thirty years. Lorna sat down and looked around. She saw Ray cutting the hair of a man. Three other barberchairs also were occupied by men who were served by barberettes with shaven heads. Aghast Lorna looked at them. She was startled when one of the girls called: "Next!"
The blonde woman looked at Lorna: "I think it is your turn, I'm waiting for my husband."
"Oh...errr.....I would like to wait for Ray," she faltered.
"Of course, just like you want," the barberette smiled.
Ray had finished the haircut of his client. He greeted Lorna smiling: "Well, you have decided to change?"
"Yes, but may I pose a question? Why have all the barberettes shaven heads?"
"Well, this is the Cueball Salon and Barbershop. It is a rule that all the co-workers have to submit to."
"But you have hair."
"I'm the exception that fixes the rule."
"Why is that?"
"I don't know, I didn't make the rule. You should ask the owner. But let's turn to your hair. What do you want me to do?"
"I don't know. A change. What would you suggest?"
"Ah, I could shave you bald."
"Oh no!" Lorna exclaimed horrified, "I would never do that."
Ray laughed: "It is only a proposal."
"You are kidding, aren't you?"
"Okay, then say what you do want."
"No curls and no dying, so I think somewhat shorter."
"How short are you willing to go?"
Lorna felt uncomfortable but at he same time excited too: "Shoulderlength perhaps?"
"Hmmm....why not shorter? When you want a real change you should be more radical."
"But not shorter than chinlength."
"Okay, I'll cut a chinlength bob and we'll see how it looks. Personally I'd rather go shorter."
Ray started to cut in front of her right ear and cut around her head to the left side. About two feet of hair slipped down in her lap and to the floor. Lorna watched it with a mixture of fear and excitement. Next Ray combed a part of her hair at the frontal side across her face and cut it just above her eyebrows into a fringe.
Lorna looked at her image. She turned her head from left to right, shook it:"I don't like it."
"No, I told you."
He brushed the hair backwards and made her ears visible: "Your face still is partially covered by hair and look at your ears, they are cute. I want to cut them free and denude your nape."
Lorna got more and more excited at the prospect of losing more hair. Once the cutting had started her fear had diminished.
"Okay, I'm ready for it."
The scissors began to cut away the hair around her ears, next at the nape and the back of her head. Ray tossed the on the counter and grabbed a straight razor. Lorna's eyes widened: "What are you going to do?!" she cried out, startled.
"Take it easy, darling, I won't shave you," he soothed her, "I'm going to cut your hair shorter to unequal and uneven wisps with this razor. I need them to give you a nice pixy look."
"What is a pixy look?" Lorna asked suspiciously. She had never been interested in the different hairstyles and she really had no idea.
"Just trust me," Ray said, "You'll look marvellous. It is a short style but you'll keep some hair."
Some hair! Her excitement increased: "Okay, go on!"
Longer and shorter tufts of hair rained down while Ray wielded his razor throughout Lorna's hair on top which he had wetted. At last he put down his razor and combed wih his fingers through the remnants of her hair, just a few inches long, unequal and uneven, no one longer than four inches.
"Well, what do you think?"
Lorna looked at her image: "My god, is that me? I look like somebody else!"
You look gorgeous! This is what I meant when I spoke to you in the bus."
"Oh thank you! I'm so happy!" Lorna exclaimed, "I feel.......well like new........ as if I were another person."
"You are your real self now, no longer disguised by all that hair. Would you come back for an update after six weeks or so?"
"Of course, you needn't doubt that."

---

"Is that you, Lorna?" Paula asked when the girl had returned, "Good heavens, you look gorgeous!"
But she thought: 'She is still more attractive than I had ever imagined! Well, there are two things that I shall have to do. First I will go with her to see my physician and let him prescribe a contraceptive as a precautionary measure. And secondly I have to make an appointment at the Cueball. I'm in need of a haircut.'

Towards the end of the summer holidays Lorna's hair had grown about an inch.
"I have to go back to the beautysalon for a tidying up," she told her grandmother.
"Sure darling, make an appointment."
However, before she had done this Patty and Jim suddenly and unannounced appeared in front of the door which was opened by Lorna.
"Gosh Lorna, I hardly recognize you! You look great with that short hair. Why didn't do you that earlier?" Patty exclaimed, while kissing her daughter.
"You never told me."
"You never asked."
Jim jumped in: "You look like a boy. A little make-up and girl's clothes would make the difference."
"Granma likes me this way and why should girls not wear trousers?"
Meanwhile Paula had joined them and greeted her daughter and Jim: "I shouldn't ask about your journey to Europe, I suppose. You sent us so many postcards."
"It has been marvellous," Patty answered, "We have seen so much, Rome, Paris, Brussels, Amsterdam, Kopenhagen, Stockholm, all those wonderful cities. We'll show you the video's, we have lots of them. But first I must tell you something else which is of more importance."
She paused for a moment while Paula and Lorna questioningly looked at her.
"It could be that Lorna gets a little brother or sister."
"Oh mom!" Lorna screamed, "That would be wonderful! A baby!"
"I'm not yet sure," Patty stated, "but I assume that I'm right."
"You should do a test," Paula suggested.
"Of course I'll do that. But I had some fear. If it wouldn't be true I couldn't bear the disappointment. So I waited till I would be pretty sure about it."
Later, when Paula and Patty were alone, the former said: "Lorna wanted to change her hairdo and I had the idea, which turned out to be false, that a short haircut would diminish her sex-appeal. Well, the contrary seemed to be true. That's why I didn't allow her to use make-up and encouraged her to wear blue jeans, T-shirts and Doc Martens boots.. And I took her to see my physician."
"I guess you did the right things."
"She was rather upset when the doctor told her to undress for a gynaecological examination. Well, I stayed with her to hold her hand, so I could reassure her."
"Thank you, Paula. Do you think she has an intimate relationship?"
"No, as far as I know she still is a virgin. So there is no reason to bother."

The next day Lorna said to her mother: "Mom, your perm has grown out. Why don't you come with me to a beautysalon/"
Patty and Jim had decided to spend a few days with Paula and afterwards take Lorna with them home.
"Yes, you're right, I think it's time for a new hairstyle."
"I'll make an appointment."
Lorna called Cindy: "Tomorrow at eleven? That's okay."

Patty gasped when she entered The Cueball Salon and was confronted with Cindy.
"Hi Lorna, I assume that you are Mrs. Rodgers?"
"Yes, I'm Patty."
"Well, take a seat please. Marsha will meet you in a few minutes."
"You go first, mom," Lorna said, "Marsha will take you."
Patty was shocked again, seeing the stylists: "They are all bald," she whispered.
"The salon is called the Cueball, mom, that's why."
"Does that mean that the customers are persuaded to go bald also? In any case I have no intention to do that."
"No," Lorna laughed, "But it is a fact that they like extravagant styles. So be prepared."
In spite of herself Patty descried some excitement.
"Hi, I'm Marsha."
"Glad to meet you, my name is Patty."
"Okay, will you come with me?"
"Well Patty, what do you want me to do?"
"I have no exact ideas. What would you suggest?"
"What would you say to an asymmetrical bob? A parting on the left side and that side clippered short and angled towards the back. The right side longer."
"It sounds good. Do you think it suits me?"
"It certainly will. You'll love it."
While Patty was treated by Marsha, Lorna had looked around but she couldn't discover Ray. She went to the barbershop, hoping that he could be found at that place. She took a seat in the row but didn't see him either.
One of the stylists, a tall black girl (of course with a shining bald head) cutting the hair of a young man, saw Lorna inquirinly gazing around and asked her: "Looking for some one in particular, sweetheart?"
"Yeah, I'm trying to spot Ray."
"Ray? Well, you wouln't find him here. He refused to shave his head so had to quit, ha, ha! But I'll help you as soon as I've finished this guy."
There was nothing for it but to wait.
"Well sweetie, I'm Trisha and what is your name?"
"It's Lorna."
"Exactly, I thought so. Your grandma has called us."
Lorna was surprised: "My grandma? Why?"
Trisha grinned: "About your haircut. What d'ya want? She would like a shorter style."
"Strange, she didn't tell me anything."
"Well, sweetie, tell me what to do."
"Okay, if she wants short then really short. How about a flattop? With shaved back and sides!"
Trisha grinned: "Sure, I love it. No problem, honey."
She took a pair of clippers and removed the attachment, pushed Lorna's head to her chest and flicked on the switch. The machine moved up her nape and the back of her head to her crown leaving in its wake pale skin and very short dark stubble. Track next to track was shorn and then the left side of her head, next the right one. Trisha took a flattop comb, inserted it horizontally into the hair on top and mowed off the hair sticking out above the comb. With scissors she constructed a perfect flattop no longer than 3/8 inch. She lathered and shaved the back and sides smooth and clean. With a moist towel Trisha wiped Lorna's head clean and she applied a gel to make the short remaining hair stand erect.
"All done, dearie. What do you think?"
"I think it is very short and I hope that my grandma will be satisfied


.""If she's not then the only solution is to shave to baldness," Trisha said with a broad grin.
The men waiting their turn laughed while Lorna returned to the salon. Her mother wasn't ready yet, so she took a seat in the waiting area.
As soon as Patty got her daughter in view she was flabbergasted.
"Honey, what happened to your hair!?" she exclaimed, "You are as good as bald!"
Lorna grinned somewhat uncertain: "Did you know that Paula had called about my visit?"
"No, she didn't tell me. Why did she call?"
"She should have said something like a short style. So if that's true, I hope this is short enough."
"Darling, you have hardly any hair left. But what do you think of me?"
"Mom, you are stunning with that short hair. You could be my elder sister."
"And you my younger brother." But she smiled as she though of what Paula had said about Lorna's attractiveness to boys. "It's okay, it suits you."
She gave her daughter a hug and with their arms around each others waists they walked out of the salon.

"You look like a recruit," Paula said when they had returned. She gave Patty a wink but Jim remarked: "Why didn't you shave it all off?"
"Should I go back?" Lorna asked, "I don't mind," she continued defiantly. What the heck, she had gone so far that she got reckless.
"No need," Jim answered, "I can do that as well."
It was not clear whether he was joking or meant business.
"Mom, what do you say?" Lorna asked her mother.
Patty revolved in her mind: could a bald girl be attractive?
"Honey, it's up to you. Do you really mean it?"
Lorna hesitated one moment, then said: "Okay, let's do it."
"Are you sure?" Jim asked.
"Yeah, I am. After all I visited the Cueball with the bald stylists and I want to have the same experience."
Jim tookher to the bathroom. With scissors he cut the small amount of hair on her head as short as possible, covered the area with shaving gel and shaved her bald.
"Do you like that, Jim? Shaving a girl's head?" Lorna sked him. She enjoyed again the scraping of the razor across her scalp.
"I've never before done that. But if you want to stay bald for some time you should find someone to shave you or do it yourself. You know that I'm often away."
"Oh well, mom will help me."

Some days later Patty and Jim returned to their home taking Lorna with them. Calling her best friend Joyce was the first thing Lorna did when she was home again.
"Yes, I'm back and you'll be surprised seeing me. My appearance has radically changed."
"What do you mean? What is different?"
"Well, come and see."
"Oh, I'm so curious! I can't wait, I'll come over to you immediately."
Joyce stood dumbfounded when she got her friend in view.
"Why on earth did you do that?"
"I wanted to look totally different. So I went from short to shorter and shortest."
"And to nothing at all! I wonder what one will say when you enter class on Monday."
"Yeah, I'm a little nervous to do so. Will you support me?"
"Of course."
Indeed Lorna was teased with her bald look but it didn't last long. Soon everyone had been accustomed to it. After the first astonishment there also was admiration, especially from the side of certain boys.
Lorna remained bald for some time but as it got colder she let grow her hair. After the turning of the year she got 16 and Patty assented her to date with boys. After some time Brian became her boyfriend.
When spring had arrived Brian asked Lorna whether she would shave her head again.
"Do you want me to do that?"
"Only when it is your wish too."
Lorna pondered on it. Her hair still was rather short and she didn't like it. But when she shaved it off again ........Nevertheless she understood that Brian would like to see her without hair again.
"Okay," she said, "But you have to do it yourself."
The idea aroused Brian: "So, what are we waiting for?"
He took her with him to his room, knowing that his father was in the possession of clippers. He had Lorna sit on a stool in the bathroom and moved the clippers criss-cross over her scalp. Next he covered her head with shaving foam and shaved it as smooth as a babybottom.
That night Lorna didn't only lose her hair for the second time but also her virginity.......

Lorna's relation with Brian didn't last a long time. When it ended she stopped shaving her head and let her hair grow out. At last, when it was long enough, she had it shaped into a short bobstyle which she kept during her further years at high school. She was surprised that the quality of her hair had improved and thanks to the good care of the hairstylists the shape was irreproachable. Every summer Lorna stayed with her grandma in Boston and of course she then visited the Cueball.
After graduation from high school Lorna told her mother that she wanted to become a hairstylist and to work in that well-known and much appreciated salon, especially visited by youngsters, the Cueball. Patti didn't like the idea, she wanted her daughter to go to college and follow an academic study. They extensivily discussed the matter but couldn't reach an agreement.
Of course Lorna visited her granma that summer too and she asked Paula's advice. This one convinced Lorna to follow her mothers wish.
"Go to college for one or two years and in the mean time you can take lessons at a beauty institute with evening courses. When you succeed in being matriculated at the university here in Boston you may stay in my apartment."
Lorna did as her granma had suggested and everything went according to plan.
Towards the end of her first year at the university, where she had chosen to study history of art and culture, the beauty institute asked volunteers for demonstrations. Lorna enlisted and asked for which styles she would be available she answered: "Every style, I don't care which."
"Well, that's very convenient. You'll get an appeal from us."
It didn't take not much time. Lorna didn't know what she had to expect but certainly she never had imagined that she should be chosen as a model to demonstrate hair-extension! After the demonstration she found herself with long hair, several inches past her shoulders!
Shortly after she got a message that there would be a vacancy at the Cueball. Would she be interested? So Lorna had to decide: another year at the university or take the offered position?
It wasn't that simple. The sudden extension of her hair had elicited a desire to let it grow. Afer all those years of short styles or a shaven head it was intriguing to have long hair again and working at the Cueball required a shaven head.
Then she really did like studying history of art and she considered to continue it, strongly supported by her mother who urged her to obtain a university degree.
And a last but not the least important factor was Charles, her new boyfriend. She had met him at college and when she had told him that she had enrolled as a hair-model he had feared that her hair should be cut short. He had been delighted to see her back with longer locks. He loved long tresses! And Lorna loved him and she didn't want to disappoint him.
And that settled the matter: not the Cueball but the university. A second and third year.
Lorna graduated at last cum laude and was offered a position at the university. Lorna loved it. She loved Boston and she loved Charles above all. Soon her hair had grown to waistlength again.
Lorna was married to Charles and soon he expressed his wish that they should try to get a baby.
"No, I'm 23. We have enough time, I should like to wait a few years," Lorna answered.
But Charles was insistent. Again and again he tried to persuade Lorna to stop contraception. Before she was married she had asked her gynaecologist to insert a capsule under the skin of her arm which would make her infertile for at least three years.
At last Lorna gave in and had the capsule removed.
A few months later, at the start of November, she got a positive result of a pregnancy test.
When her pregnancy reached its eighth month in July and her abdomen expanded more and more a heatwave came to development. The temperature sometimes rose to 35* C and at night it hardly cooled down. For Lorna it was almost unbearable. Every movement consisted of a torment to her.
One morning she said sighing: "A woman experiences much discomfort bearing a child. I have done it for you, my love, as you want a baby so much."
"I know, darling. I wish I could do something to make you more comfortableas long as it is so hot."
"You can do something."
"Name it, sweetheart, I'll do anything you want except divorce and leave you," he laughed.
"I know you wouldn't do that. If you will do everything, please, cut my hair. This mass of hair makes me crazy in this heat."
"Cut your hair? Me? I don't know how to do that. Shouldn't I ask if a stylist is willing to come over?"
"No, you can do it. Just cut it very short and shave my head."
In bewilderment Charles looked at her: "Shave your head? I thought.....a nice short style."
"No!" Lorna said resolute, "I have thought back and recalled the time that I had no hair and how I enjoyed that and I want to have the experience again. I want my scalp totally hairless and smooth."
Charles couldn't make her change her mind.
"You said you would do anything for me. I bear our child , earlier than I would have wanted, to please you. Now you have to make a sacrifice, I know that you love my long hair. I promise that I'll let it grow again as soon as our baby has been born and when it is long enough I'll have it extended . Please my love, I beg you."
"I hadn't thought of extensions. Okay, I'll do it, just say when."
"Do it now. I can't bear another hot day with this mop of hair."
Charles gathered her hair and tied it into a big ponytail next to her crown.
"Cut it with clippers, darling, the bulk is too thick for scissors. It would take so much time severing it from my head."
"It hurts, sweetheart, nevertheless I'll do it."
Charles put a number 4 guard on the clippers after having got the ponytail out of the way, switched them on and placed them at the hairline. In one sweep he brought them across the top of her head to her nape, went back and repeated the movement just to the right of the first several times. Then he turned to the right sideburn and ran the clippers in front of her ear to her temple, above and behind her ear and down to the nape. He cleaned up the remaining hair on the backside of her head and nape and turned to the left side. Soon all of Lorna's hair had been reduced to a length of 1/2 inch.
"We could leave it as short as it is now," Charles suggested.
"No


way," Lorna was again determined. "I told you that I want a totally smooth scalp. Remove the guard!" Charles sighed but obeyed. This time he started at her nape. Lorna began to purr like a kitten when she felt the clippers running across her scalp, shearing the short hair to stubble. Charles got aroused seeing his wife's bare skin appearing. He could hardly stop moving the clippers again and again across her scalp and Lorna didn't mind. But once every hair had been removed there no longer was any reason to continue.
"My goodness, this is crazy! I've never known how good you look without hair. The scape of your head is so beautiful and your nape! Graceful like a swan!"
"Glad that you like it. But you are not yet ready. Shave me!"
"Oh yes!" Charles exclaimed. "I'll love to!"
He spread shaving gel out across her head and shaved her with a safety razor, with short strokes just as he did shave his face. Lorna nearly exploded while feeling and hearing the scraping and Charles apparently enjoyed it ever so much.
"I never saw you with a shaven head. You look marvellous!" He was delighted and kissed her passionately.
"Oh my darling, I'm so glad that you did this for me, thank you, thank you!"
Both were so aroused that in spite of the heat and the problems Lorna's bulging belly caused they succeeded to have a stormy intercourse!
About six weeks later Lorna was admitted to hospital to give birth to her baby. She delivered a beautiful boy after she had got an epidural analgesia. She was totally enraptured and only wished that she had got pregnant sooner.
"You see?" Charles said, "I told you so often!"
"Yes darling, you were right, I'm sorry that I hesitated so long. Forgive me."
Of course he did, he was too happy with his son.
As soon as she was back home Lorna asked her husband: "Would you do me one favour?"
"Of course, my dear, what do you want?"
"I promised to have my hair grow back after our baby was born but I would love it to experience a headshaving one last time."
Charles facial expression got sterner; "Lorna, I think we should talk."
Lorna got worried:"Is something wrong?"
"You forced me to cut off all of your hair. You know how I loved your beautiful tresses."
"Oh darling, I'm so sorry to have been so selfish. At that time I was so upset by those high temperatures that I was unreasonable. Can you forgive me?"
"Listen Lorna, it is not enough to say sorry or to ask for forgiveness. You deserve a punishment, don't you agree?"
Lorna bent her head: "Yes darling, I think you are right."
"Well, say it!" Charles shouted in an angry voice.
Lorna was startled. Never before he has shouted at her like that. She began to cry.
"I should be punished because of my disbehaviour," she sobbed.
"Okay," Charles said, milder now,"Hear my verdict: you will remain bald for an indefinite time and I'll shave your head every day."
Lorna sobbed unceasingly and concealed her head against Charles' chest.
"No need to cry, sweetie, don't be sad," Charles said while he caressed her head.
Lorna lifted her head and looked up at her husband with eyes wet of tears: "I'm not sad, I cry of joy."
Charles laughed: "I'm not cross with you. Your scalp tingles like sandpaper."
"Oh darling, arrange that! I hardly can wait for you to shave me."
"Okay, don't let us waist any time. Sit down and I'll fetch my tools."
While he lathered her scalp Lorna asked: "How long is indefinitely?"
"Just what it says. But as your trespasses have been severe it shouldn't be shorter than a year."
"Oh sweetheart, you make me a happy girl!"
"A happy mother. But we are not alone. We must consider other people's feelings. What will your colleages say when you return to work at your institute? What will be the reaction of your professor?"
"They already know! They have visited me to congratulate me and admire our son. And professor White won't object. She herself has short hair and more than once has remarked that it must be very time consuming washing, conditioning, drying and styling that long hair. No, she will be glad!"
But everything took a turn when on account of retrenchement policy the position of Lorna at the institute became superfluous and she was didmissed before the end of her pregnancy leave. Some months later again a vacancy arose at the Cueball and this time Lorna applied and was accepted as a trainee. So she probably became the first stylist with a Master of Arts degree!
About one year later Charles' education as a surgeon was finished and as he got an appointment at a hospital in Atlanta they had to move. Lorna was pregnant again at that time and she didn't look for a job for the time being. Once their second child had been born, a girl, she would see how the land would lie.
During the time that Lorna was employed at The Cueball the prorietor changed his instructions concerning the hairstyle of the stylists: he wanted them to cut their hair in what he called " future and fantasy cuts." They were all short styles, dyed in daring colours, sometimes with shaven patches. But no longer a totally shaven head.
When Charles and Lorna moved to Atlanta he told her he wanted his wife to let her hair grow. Lorna agreed. Afterall she wanted long hair back too.
Being at the age of 26 now Lorna has a beloved and loving husband, two lovely children and beautiful tresses which already pass her shoulders as a result of weaving extensions into her hair. No job yet but the children keep her busy!
The end.