Tag Archives: headshave


Disclaimer: This story will contain material related to the topic of sex and religion. No offence of any kind was intended by the author in the drafting of this story. All readers please be advised.

I was born to a dissociated couple, which gradually grew to become a set of divorced parents as time past. I have always resided in Northen Virginia though, the state they chose to settle down in almost a decade ago, when their love was still blooming and on fire. This may be the place my parents had decided to split, but it was where I grew up. I had no reason to leave. Being the product of separated parents will always have a certain impact on the child, and one could safely say I was no different. While kids of my age during middle school enjoyed their childhood times, I was busy becoming an adult, having to deal with arguments every other day over meagre issues, usually over me. After all, with separation, I was the only bridge left between them. Obviously, I grew up and matured very swiftly, in dire hopes of resolving the troubled times that followed even after my parents’ separation. Many years ensued as time quickly past, and before long, I was already in my mid twenties, approaching the climax of my adulthood.

My parents weren’t all bad though. Well at least, not totally. There is one benefit from being their child, probably the only one, and that is their affluence. They were always one of the richest individuals residing in the district we lived in. My childhood may have been constantly rocked by dreaded scenes of unrest at home, but money was certainly an issue. What was an issue, was that I had been inevitably categorised as one without much talent in mainstream education, and hence no prospect in the white collar world. I quickly realised that, trying to correct that would only be a futile attempt. With that in mind, at the age of sixteen, I decidedly dropped out of high school, switching to pursue hairdressing instead, after discovering that I had a certain knack and love for the trade.

In an effort to make up for the past, or at least that was what I thought, my now-separated parents jointly funded my first private business entity, which was a full-fledged hair salon located downtown. It was a small shop space no doubt, but I certainly did not mind. After all, small was not all that bad, since it did not require much furnishing. There was sufficient space for me to setup two haircutting stations, along with a simple front desk and a segregated hair washing area. Small also means that I simply needed to employ two assistants that would help me out with daily chores and chemical treatments. It was a modest business, but the privacy offered by the careful shop design and meticulous service quickly won the hearts of the local townsfolk, in particular those that had to don hijabs or other covered headdresses for their daily lives. As it is a two-seater salon, they were able to comfortably unveil their hijab to get their haircuts or treatments in full privacy at most times. It was a win-win since I could simply offer these sort of customers appointment timeslots and allow them to book down the entire space, in case they felt uncomfortable with revealing their precious locks to strangers.

One of my regular clients, Mariana, was born in a very religious family. However, for certain unknown reasons, she seemingly grew to become an Atheist, or perhaps simply a non-believer. I certainly took no issue with it, since her faith was of no immediate impact to me. However, Mariana’s lack of belief became an issue for her parents, whom were frustrated by Mariana’s repeated refusal to don their religious headdress. Mariana on the other hand, did not want to do so as she did not share the belief her parents pledged their faith to.

Her parents however, were one of the most influential families that had connections both politically and commercially. They were a pair of individuals that were well-respected in the city, and certainly should not be trifled with. Their respect for the religion they endear treads as far as the amount of power they wield in the city, and they have been continuously annoyed by Mariana’s ignorance when it came to the necessity of her following in their religion. The pair was convinced that if Mariana would not obey, they would eventually bite the bullet and use harsher methods to change her mind.

With African roots, Mariana had a full head of wiry, curly hair that she carefully styled as an afro. She would regularly drop by my hair salon monthly to get the afro trimmed up, sometimes getting a blowout when she felt like going slick straight for a day or two. That was no different for today, as she called a day earlier to book a timeslot for a trim and blowout. On the other hand, something drastic and unexpected was about to unfold for Mariana.

Upon knowing that Mariana was scheduled for a trim and blowout at my hair salon, her parents had discreetly stepped in and requested for a favour, even promising a payment in the near future. I was utterly shocked by their request, and had to consider carefully before agreeing, because what was planned technically could not be considered legal. However, in the fear that refusal of their request would offend them and damage my chances of keeping my business long-lasting, I ultimately accepted their request and took on the task, albeit reluctantly.

It was just past one in the afternoon, when the sun was still blazing bright, that Mariana stepped into the hair salon. Knowing that she will be arriving around then from the appointment made, I had decided to reject any potential business from any walk-in customers , and simply waited by the front desk for her arrival. I gestured her towards one of the stations upon her arrival, while one of my assistants assisted Mariana to change into one of the beige silk gowns we offer our clients to change into while we render our services. On the other hand, the other assistant passed me one of the glossy ivory-coloured capes that we used. These capes were custom ordered to be larger in size and feel smooth to touch. The enlarged size was to accommodate the slightly larger frames of the clients I get, and the silky feel was to ensure my clients remained comfortable. The glossy colour also gives off a sense of elegance. Ironic as it may be, what was coming for Mariana was nowhere as elegant.

As per usual procedure, after Mariana took a seat, I proceeded to the humongous-sized cape over Mariana, covering her figure in its entirety, fastening it snuggly by the back of her neck. Judging by her behaviour, she seemed to have completely no idea what was coming. It further reinforces the fact that her parents wanted this ensuing episode to have a dramatic impact.

“Just a trim and blowout please, Jane,” Mariana spoke, as she fiddled slightly with the cape that was already covering her to make herself more comfortable in the seat. Dear oh dear, how was I going to explain myself after what was going to happen to Mariana?

Devachan Caping 1

Devachan Caping 2

In an effort to first mask the ultimate motive, I calmly restrained my nerves and checked through her wiry curls as per usual. As I did so, I casually commented that her afro looks damaged and dried out, questioning if she had been straightening or dyeing it by herself frequently, but that was obviously not the case. She looked indifferent to my remarks, brushing them aside, but I went on about the unhealthy condition of her curls. When it seemed that she would not surrender on her own will, it escalated quickly to having to take more drastic measures.

“Ladies, kindly assist our customer by the seat please,” vaguely hinting for my assistants to step in and secure Mariana in place. They had been briefed beforehand on what was about to take place, and being followers of the same faith as Mariana’s parents, they had no objection of the plan that was unfolding. They quickly stepped up to the sides of Mariana while she was all caped up and in seat. They swiftly reached beneath the cape, and forcefully pressed Mariana’s arms tightly to the armrests of the chair. With rope in hand, I tied both of her arms to each of the armrests respectively. Mariana was totally shocked upon sight of what we were doing, and tried to fight back, but was mostly futile as my assistants kept her steadily in place while I secured her to the chair, ensuring that she had no chance of escaping from what was coming for her.

“Jane, what are you doing? Let me go right now, I am one of your regular customers for god’s sake!” Mariana exclaimed. “God? But there is no god in your life Mariana, or is there? You though, might be wishing there is one very soon,” I replied Mariana blankly, holding in my nerves as much as possible. She was now kicking frantically with her arms fastened and unable to move, and I thought that since it had come to this extent, might as well go all the way. I took more rope, and tied her legs to the foot support as well, rendering Mariana totally zero control of what was going to happen to her.  Mariana was lost for words by now, and did not know what she could possibly do. She had no other options but to accept the current scenario. The curtains were already drawn shut by now, with the salon supposedly closed an hour for lunch. It would take hours before anyone would even suspect or realise the plight Mariana was currently set in, giving us enough time to deal the punishment her parents had wanted us to prepare for her.

The assistants had retreated to the back by now, observing the inevitable fate of Mariana. To totally eradicate any signs of opposition or retaliation, I decided to tape her mouth, masking any vocal rebuttal from her. I reached for a pair of cordless hair clippers from the servicing tray, and unhooked the #2 guard that I usually kept attached on to use for my male customers. The clippers were now without any guards attached, meaning that its blades will unforgivingly shave hair off down to the scalp.

The hair clippers turned on with a thud, and Mariana’s eyes widened upon the sight and sound of it in motion. She murmurs through the tape on her mouth, but could not voice out any clear words to describe her feelings. I grabbed her firmly by her afro, and pulled backwards with some effort to sit her straight, countering her reluctance to obey. Tears almost seamed from her eyes, but I could not care any further. I had verbally promised her parents beforehand, that this was necessary and would be a done deal. With her head tilted back and in place, I placed the oscillating blades of the hair clippers just before Mariana’s front hair line, and ruthlessly pushed backwards all the way towards the crown. The clipper blades changed tunes as it quickly sliced through Mariana’s wiry locks, sending them tumbling to settle on the cold salon floor. I repeated the process, making more passes through Mariana’s locks with the clippers, sending more of her bushy hair to the floor, now laying lifelessly. What was left in the path of the hair clippers, was Mariana’s scalp, pale and free of hair for the first time in her life.


Before long, Mariana’s head was clean of her afro, with all of it now settled lifeless on the floor. I gathered them together into a neat pile, before lifting as much as I could of them in one hand. With her shaven afro in hand, I gestured with it in front of Mariana, reprimanding her for her refusal to conform to her parents’ wishes. “This, is the consequence you have subjected yourself to for refusing to obey your parents’ will,” I preached to Mariana, before cold-heartedly tossing the pile back onto the floor.

But that was not all. Her parents had planned something bigger, considering the fact that Mariana was such a stubborn daughter, and that it would take something more to convince her of reality. I tilted the chair in an anti-clockwise direction, making Mariana now face towards the left instead of the mirror. Her eyes were already drenched with tears from having to witness me shave off her afro, but more was coming. I lifted the haircutting cape by the front, and let it rest on top of the armrests, so that the lower half of Mariana’s body was revealed. Unsurprisingly, she wore revealing clothes, particularly a floral dress cut several inches above the knees, which opposed the values of her parents’ religion.

I pulled out the haircutting scissors from my pouch, and snipped the dress apart by the centre as far up as the cape reveals. Mariana’s panties are now revealed, and she seemed more appalled now by what was coming next. I slit apart her panties by the sides, before pulling them off her forcefully and tossing it onto the vacant chair beside the one Mariana was secured to. With the panties now gone, her pubic area was now uncovered. Her pubic hair was in full bloom, a generous garden of pubes that were wiry and curly, similar to the texture of her now-shaved afro. I was disgruntled by the fact that my long-time client did not even bother to take care of her pubic area, which was essential in a basic hygiene routine.

To help her get started, the hair clippers were put to use again. I gave the blades a few good swipes with a brush, removing any remnants from the previous shaving of Mariana’s afro. The clippers came alive again with a loud thud, ready to mow away. Without hesitation, I mowed away at Mariana’s pubes, letting the clippers eat away at the pubic hair as I ran it around her pubic area. The sheared pubes gathered quickly by the small gap between Mariana’s pelvis and the chair, but I let it gather on purpose to dramatise the punishment she was receiving. With a few more passes using the clippers, Mariana’s pubic area was shaved down to super short stubble, almost invisible to the naked eye. With one good swipe, I grabbed all of the pubic hair that had piled up in one hand, and tossed them away to the floor right in the face of Mariana. She had already ran out of tears and simply given in, subjecting herself to any punishment I was going to deal.

For the highlight of the session, I pulled out a straight razor, but removed the guard that was usually put in place to prevent cuts during use. Mariana deserved to know the full extent of her mistake and what consequences will she face if she decide to make such an error again. Using one hand, I stretched the skin around her labia tightly to keep it flat, before using the straight razor to scrap off the remaining stubble. Each drag of the razor removed a significant amount of stubble, gradually revealing a clean vagina area with no hair at all. I applied more force to ensure every single strand or stubble is shaved off, sometimes cutting Mariana’s labia in the process. But I could not care less. Before long, the entire pubic area was completely free of hair, with some cuts around slightly bleeding, but nothing serious. I pulled back down her slit dress to bring Mariana’s punishment to an end.

As I loosened the ropes securing Mariana in place, she was already partially unconscious, too shocked by my disposure of such dramatic punishment, and confusion as to why I did so. It was all in the name of survival. Should I offend her parents, who knows what could happen to me and my business in the near future?

Upon loosening her, I signalled for the assistants to step in and lift Mariana off the seat. By the backdoor of the salon, a black limousine was already parked in place, ready to transport the victim to her next stop. I opened the door of the vehicle, and the assistants put Mariana in before closing the door. The vehicle took off, concluding the entire process, and I could finally heave a sigh of relief at completing this tedious task.

We are aware that this story may provide reference to certain aspects of certain religions. Kin EMJX & Haircut Stories would like to reassure our readers that the usage of these aspects are not intended to offend any of the religion’s followers, but rather, purely for fictional & recreational purposes. In the case that our readers’ interpret otherwise, we seek their kind understanding by reaffirming our stance that we do not bear such intentions, and are open to editing the storyline if the interpretation is justified. Any reader that wish to do so can contact us via the Contact Us page. Thank you.

Janice & The Express Salon (Chapter 3)

“Sam, get over here right now!” Janice remarked angrily as he spotted his presence by the entrance of the express hair salon. She was infuriated by Sam’s broken promise of returning on time for his haircut. Janice stepped off the barber chair and headed straight for Sam, grabbing him by his arm and dragged him straight out to avoid creating a commotion for the customers waiting for their turn.

Sam unknowingly, seemed frustrated at Janice’s anger, since he had not noticed that half her head of long locks were being shorn off. The shaven sides were still covered by her incredibly long locks at the top. “Why are you shouting at me? I was a little late, but shit did not happen within the few minutes in difference right?” Sam retaliated. Janice remarked again that he was late by in fact, a total of fifteen minutes, enough for the barber to shave half her head.

She lifted her locks by the top to show Sam how severely short the shaven sides were. The previously flowing long hair was nothing but super short stubble that allowed a clear peek at Janice’s scalp. Sam was taken aback at the sight of Janice’s plight, and bobbed his head downwards, an act of regret and guilt.

She however, found no comfort in leveraging on Sam’s guilt. After all, there is nothing Sam can do or act to return her the long flowing hair she had. Only time could. But in the meantime, she wanted to teach Sam a lesson, and this time round, in a devilish manner. “You will now do as I say, or if word gets to mum, you are so dead for getting me into this shape,” Janice ordered Sam. Out of pure remorse, Sam nodded in obedience.

Janice then grabbed Sam tightly by his arm again, and pulled him towards the other side of the mall strip. At the far end of the mall, near the entrance into the residential district, a traditional two-seater barbershop laid, serving the older men that live in the area. Today, they will have the pleasure of serving a young man with a severe haircut.

Just by the door into the barbershop, Janice turned towards Sam again, face still seemingly annoyed. She however held it in, and issued instructions to Sam. “You will go in there, and ask for a #1 buzzcut. Following, request for a total head shave with the straight razor and warm shaving cream.” Janice ordered Sam.

Sam seemed flabbergasted at Janice’s request, instantaneously reaching up to caress his thick, curly head of brunette locks. He was after all, not very familiar with barbershop culture as he was brought up getting his haircuts at hair salons. Janice reassured him that it was going to be over in moments and that she would follow him in if that might make him feel better. Amidst her anger and intention to punish Sam for his wilfulness that caused her to lose much of her hair, the kinship between them as brother and sister still existed. Reassured by Janice, Sam nodded and entered the barbershop. Janice followed right behind, and signaled to the nearest barber that she was simply accompanying Sam.


The barbershop had two barbers on duty, one male and female. The man was in his mid-thirties, working on one of their seemingly regular customers, a retired man who was obviously balding by the top. The other was a barberette in actual fact, and she sat on the vacant barber chair. The barber whom Janice signaled, named Wesley, called out to Roxanne, who had not taken notice of her incoming victim.

Upon noticing the arrival of Sam and Janice, Roxanne rose from the barber chair and gave it a few pats while maintaining eye contact with Sam. He moved forward and took a seat on the barber chair, a little uncomfortable with the ambience of the barbershop. Feeling awkward, he took a few glances at Roxanne as she prepped her tools to serve Sam. She looked to be in her late twenties, and was dressed modestly but fashionably. Roxanne donned a plan pullover of a bright turquoise shade, and paired it with washed out skinnies. Her hair was trendily cut in a one-length bob with some layers cut in, and was blown dry to curve slightly inwards in a C-curl. Roxanne was overall, very demure and feminine, making many question why she would work in such a masculine environment such as a barbershop, when she would fit much better in a hair salon.

Sam grasped the arm support of the chrome barber chair as he awaited his unescapable fate of being shorn by Roxanne. Roxanne gave her pair of clippers a final few brushes and some oiling before she hung it back by the hook. She then positioned herself behind Sam, ready to serve. “So, haircut for you young man?” Roxanne asked Sam courteously with a gentle smile. Sam, still quite unsure of going ahead with this initially, took a glance at Janice again via the mirror, and saw a menacingly annoyed figure. He had no choice. “Umm, I would like a buzz, buzzcut using a #1 and then a full head shave with the straight razor.” Sam answered stutteringly.

“Wow, okay. You will look great being totally shaved, trust me.” Roxanne remarked. She then lifted the barber cape that was hung over the barber chair Sam sat on. The cape was a plain white haircutting cape, and had minimal detail except for black lining by the neck and the corners of the cape. Before caping Sam, she reached for a roll of neck strip, tore a piece and wrapped it tightly around Sam’s neck. The cape was then tossed over Sam, and fastened snuggly over the neck strip. The width of neck strip that was not covered by the cape was then folded down over the cape.

Sam started to feel nervous, since it was the first time he was getting all his hair shaved off. Heck, this was probably the first time in a long while Sam would be having hair shorter than what he had right now. Usually, his hair would be much longer, close to shoulder length.

Roxanne gave the chair a few pumps to align Sam’s head better with the mirror, before stepping forward to reach for her pair of clippers by the hook. She turned it on with a thud, gave it a few brushes before stepping back behind Sam again. Without room for conversation or words, Roxanne simply combed through Sam’s unruly locks towards the back. As she tugged at his curly mane that almost refused to budge to Roxanne’s comb, his forehead was revealed as Roxanne continuously combed it backwards. When Roxanne finally rid his mane of the tangles, the pair of clippers was put to work. She placed them by Sam’s hairline by the front, and pushed it backwards straight from hairline to the crown. The clippers changed tune as it sliced through Sam’s locks, revealing a wide strip of stubble in the area it went through. Janice watched in astonishment, and almost started to cum mysteriously. She was surprised by her reaction, but held it back.

Roxanne unsparingly, continued with her task. She repositioned the clippers by the hairline, this time beside the shorn area, and pushed backwards once again. More hair was shorn off, and was pushed by the clippers off Sam’s head, landing on the wooden flooring of the barbershop. Sam’s hair was so thick that two pushes from the clippers could almost cover the area behind the barber chair in his hair! Roxanne quickly got through the process, running the clippers up the temple, shaving off Sam’s sideburns and the locks at his back. It did not take long for Sam’s curly locks to cover the white barber cape that enveloped him. Each stroke of the clippers revealed more of Sam’s scalp, and made him visualise better how he would look without any hair. With all his hair shorn down to stubble, he stared blankly at his reflection in the mirror. His head seemed so small now that there was no sheltering from his curly mop of hair, but it certainly accentuated his facial features.

Roxanne hooked the clippers back, and prepped to give Sam the second part of his punishment. Without sweeping off the shorn locks that covered Sam above the barber cape, she applied shaving cream over the stubble that remaining on Sam’s scalp. When she was satisfied with the application, she cleaned her hands with a towel hooked beside the barber chair, and reached for the straight razor. She positioned the blade by the crown of Sam’s scalp, and applied some tension to it as she pushed it downwards. Sam and Janice both could hear mild screeching sounds as the razor blade shaved off whatever stubble was left on Sam’s scalp. As the razor pushed downwards, a clean white scalp could now be clearly seen. Roxanne continued shaving off the stubble with the razor, and without long, revealed a Sam that was fully shaved.

He took his first glance, and found it quite acceptable strangely. He reached out from beneath the cape, and gave his scalp a few rubs. It was totally stimulating, since the scalp is one of the most sensitive parts of the human body. Sam smiled at his new look, almost forgetting that this was supposedly his punishment. Janice on the other hand, was quite unhappy that Sam seemed satisfied, and seemed quite upset.

Now that Sam has his head fully shaved, will Janice be finally pacified? Or will Janice take a more extreme cause of action? Stay tuned as we reveal the fourth and final part of this story!

Alyssa’s Mystery

Disclaimer: This story contains sexual content. Please be advised for all readers below 18 years of age.

Alyssa awoke prematurely, oblivious to what have happened previously that caused her unconsciousness. The young lady, dressed in what seemed like a maid outfit, had been trying to wake Alyssa up, but to no avail. She finally succeeded with a slightly overpowered kick to Alyssa’s thigh.

Alyssa rose, now awake from her unnaturally caused slumber. Still slightly drowsy, she could barely make out the face of the girl who had awakened her, but saw a nametag on her which says Mary.  It was also then did she realise that she had completely no idea where she was.

Alyssa's Mystery - Scene 1

The surroundings looked dilapidated, and only dim light managed to shine through the window grills. There were salon equipment, such as styling chairs and mirrors in the room she was as well.

“Don’t be afraid. Just let me do what they want to you. They just want a good show,” Mary now spoke, with short pauses in between each sentence.

Alyssa could barely process what the lady had preached, before she pulled her up to stand on her feet. She then gestured for Alyssa to take a seat on the nearby salon chair.

Alyssa's Mystery - Scene 2

She was hesitant to obey her orders, but decided to do as she says at the moment. Alyssa took heavy, reluctant steps towards the chair, before sitting down, resting her feet on the movable footrest.

As soon as she sat, Alyssa quickly regretted her decision as the lady spared no time in taking action. With hardly any time to react, the lady had already tied her ankle to the footrest with thick rope, allowing minimal movement of her feet. She tried to struggle, but was in futile as the lady pushed her back into place. The handcuffs appeared to tame Alyssa, and her hands were now cuffed in place, leaving her helpless.

“Do as I say, or the boss won’t be happy. And when he isn’t happy, you wouldn’t want to know what happens then,” was the stern warning Mary served before she walked over to a nearby station.

While she seemed busy picking out what looked to be haircutting tools, Alyssa knew she had to do something. She tried to pull on the handcuffs, and see if it gave way. It didn’t. But it sure did rouse the attention of the lady.

With the tools now in hand, she walked back over, obviously displeased at Alyssa’s disposition. “You see that over there? It’s a camera, the boss is watching you,” Mary warned again, pointing to a device affixed to a corner of the wall top.

Just then, their one-sided conversation was interrupted, when a similar maid-like figure appeared from the only door. She was dragging along a lady by a rope, which tied up her hands. She was forced down onto the other salon chair in the room, and was quickly tied up as Alyssa was in a similar fashion.

Alyssa-s Mystery - Victim

But it didn’t stop there. Something similar to a torture brank was fitted into her mouth, leaving it wide open, and stopping her from conversing at the same time. A brown hairdressing cape was then laid over her, and fastened tightly around her shoulders.

The maid-like figure adjusted the chair’s backrest slightly, and reached for a pair of hair clippers that were already laying on the nearby table, as if on standby.

Alyssa's Mystery - Alyssa

The clippers turned on with a thud, and were mercilessly pushed down the middle of the lady’s forehead. Alyssa could watch no longer, on the brink of tears as she feared a similar fate.

“See that woman over there? She didn’t cooperate as we had wished, so we had to use some… additional measures to keep her in check,” Mary explained while standing by my side, watching the show.

That being said, Alyssa lost all hope, and resigned to the wishes of the lady. There was no more struggling, only submission.

“If you are a good girl, the boss may just let you go after this is done. But if you don’t follow, this may drag on for a while, and I’m sure that is not your wish,” she further commented.

The one-sided conversation then came to an end, as she reached for a similar brown hairdressing cape, and draped it over Alyssa, fastening it snuggly around her neck.

“Lift your legs, and place them over the sides of the chair,” Mary commanded. Alyssa obeyed, spreading them as far apart as the tight rope allows.

Mary lifted the cape, which curtained down to Alyssa’s ankle previously. It was lifted all the way up to her upper body, and folded so that it didn’t fall back down. Mary took a pair of haircutting scissors, and snipped Alyssa’s tube top dress down the middle at the bottom, all the way up to as far as the cape reveals. Alyssa’s thick mound of curly pubes were now in full exposure.

Alyssa was afraid of what is going to happen, but took it in as she knew this was her only way to survive this cursed fate.

“Wow, you go the no-maintenance style down there, don’t you?” Mary commented, obviously referring to Alyssa’s pubes which she left unkempt throughout her life.

Mary then reached for a pair of clippers, turning it on with a loud thud. For some unknown reason, this one sounded much more menacing as compared to the other lady’s.

The clippers touched Alyssa’s privates, and sent cold shivers down Alyssa’s spine. But the vibrations, oh it was arousing. So arousing Alyssa had to hold it all in, afraid to cum, especially in such undesirable scenarios.

The clippers made quick work as Mary made several passes around the vulva, and subsequently cleaning up the entire private area. The accumulated pubes were then swept off her privates with Mary’s hands, sending them down onto the floor. All that remained was thin stubble that felt like soft bristles when caressed.

“Good girl, now we are done with step one. If you do well for the next round, the boss may just agree to let you go,” Mary remarked.

The cape was pulled back down, once again covering all the way down to Alyssa’s ankles. For some reason, Alyssa felt like a sheep, waiting to be shorn by her shepherd, Mary.

The clippers turned back on again, and this time approached Alyssa’s hair. She longed to reach and caress her long, luscious curls, but it was impossible. Mary used the other hand to move away the locks covering Alyssa’s hairline at the front. The clippers were then plunged down the centre, and pushed all the way until the crown area. The clippers had mowed the hair in its path, revealing Alyssa’s scalp in the area it shorn.

Mary then continued to make several more passes, dislodging most of Alyssa’s locks down her back. Some of the hair fell towards the front, cascading down Alyssa’s shoulders, and laid lifeless on her lap now.

Mary repositioned herself now to Alyssa’s left, and pushed the clippers ruthlessly up towards her temple, sending all her clipped locks down the cape, and quickly gathering into a reasonably large pile. Alyssa held back her tears as she watch Mary take away the hair she had painstakingly grown over the past few years.

The hair on Alyssa’ right temple was chopped off in a similar fashion, before Mary worked on the back, pushing the clippers up from nape to crown. Alyssa was already beginning to feel light-headed, with all her hair now shaved off.

After Mary made a final few passes to ensure all hair was shaved off, she used a brush to sweep around Alyssa’s neck, before the cape was unfastened.

Alyssa watched as the pile of her hair previously on the cape was swept off the cape, and laid lifelessly on the floor now. The years of growth, now all gone.

Before Alyssa knew what was coming next, her head was covered up, and knocked unconscious once again.

When she awoke, she found herself by the front gates of her home, still donning the same tube top dress which was cut apart by Mary.

She reached up to check if her long curly locks were still there, but they were nowhere to be found. It wasn’t a dream that Mary had shaved off all her pubes and long hair.

What exactly happened, remains a mystery. A mystery that Alyssa will never solve.

Headshave for the Model

This is a sequel to the story titled Undercut Bob for the Model.

I sat comfortably on one of the stools within the studio, making minor adjustments to the model’s hair now and then, in order to ensure it stays in place for a perfect shot.

Just as I thought that the photo-shoot was coming to an end as the model made the final few postures, the director called the cameraman and model over to her side and they engaged into a brief discussion. The discussion did not last long, when the director digressed from the discussion and walked up to me.

‘Are you up for some overtime? We are doing an additional concept.’ The director briefed. I replied that I would be glad to do so and I was updated on what haircut I had to administer to the model. It turned out that they wanted to portray the model as a stern teacher, and the best haircut for that, is to shave it all off. Now that answered why the model looked a little flustered during the discussion.

The model walked back over and took a seat. The director gave instructions to shave off the longer section down with the Number 2 clipper blade, and orders are orders, despite how I really loved the undercut bob.

Female Studio Headshave 1

Female Studio Headshave 2

I pulled out the clippers once again, and attached the Number 2 blade on. With a few combs through the hair, I plunged it backwards horizontally from the side of her nape, and the locks quickly gave way, tumbling down onto her shoulders and lap. She watched in astonishment as the top was left with reddish stubble that was slightly longer than the sides and back. I made short work of her hair as I made multiple passes quickly across her head, severing whatever comes between the clipper blades.

Female Studio Headshave 3

Female Studio Headshave 5

I reattached the Number 1 blade onto the clipper, and began to neaten up the look by tapering her back and sides higher. She seemed to be enjoying the haircut as she occasionally smiled at her reflection in the mirror.

Female Studio Headshave 6

The haircut was done sooner than I had thought, and I returned to take a rest as the model took to the stage for the 2nd round of the photo-shoot. The shaved look was perfect, perhaps even better than the undercut bob. Consequently, the shots came out great, and the model finally left, leaving behind all her red hair that littered the studio floors. As I swept away the pile of hair, reminiscences of her getting shaved aroused me strongly. Perhaps the model wasn’t the only one who enjoyed watching her head get shaved.

Female Studio Headshave 8

I Got The Job

I was abruptly awakened from my phone’s vibration. With my eyes barely opened, I managed to take a look at my phone screen. It reads: ‘New email from Mr. Will’ on the lock screen.

‘Are you serious?’ I thought. I had been unemployed for several months, partially due to my excessive love for punk rock, and the fact that I dress like a punk rock fan as well. Mr. Will was the manager in-charge of a company where I had previous went to for a job interview.

I unlocked the phone, and saw the email. It reads as follows:

Dear Ms Kelly

I am sending this email to inform you that your job application has been approved after careful deliberation by the company.

However, we would like to remind Ms Kelly that our corporation is set in a strictly professional environment, and while Ms Kelly’s dress code for the interview has certainly been unappealing, we trust that you will look more appropriate from your first day of work onwards.

If possible, you may start work today at 12PM. Do not be late. Congratulations on receiving the job.

Best Regards
Mr. Will

Upon reading the email, I glanced at the wall clock, which reads 8.30AM. There is still some time left, but I guess I need a makeover for the job. As I stared in the mirror, I realised what Mr. Will said was true. The hot pink hair, funky earrings and gothic black clothes, they all had to go. I opened the wardrobe and pulled out what was probably the most colourful piece within; a floral short-cut dress. I replaced the funky earrings with a simple pair of ear studs, and wore a black blazer over the dress.

Everything looked in place except the pink hair now. The clock reads 9.00AM already. I reached for my phone, and gave Julia a call. The call went through. ‘Hey Julia, could you fit me in at 10AM, I need an urgent shape-up.’ I said through the phone. ‘Sure, just drop by at 10AM.’ Julia responded before hanging up.

I packed what I needed for work into a sleek handbag, and took the public bus down to Julia’s salon, which was situated quite a distance away.

Just as I was about to doze off on the bus, Julia’s salon was within sight from the bus window. I alighted, and headed instantaneously for the entrance. When I entered, Julia was already waiting at the front desk. ‘Hi Kelly, come this way.’ Julia said as she gestured towards the stylist chair at the end.

As I sat down on the chair to make myself comfortable, Julia came over and draped a black hairdressing cape over me, and fastened it snuggly around my neck. I looked at my watch, and it reads 10.45AM. Almost an hour left before I need to reach my workplace. ‘So, it’s just a trim for you?’ Kelly asked.

‘Well, honestly no. I need to get rid of all this pink. I got the job.’ I replied Julia. ‘Are you serious? That’s great!’ she exclaimed upon hearing the news. ‘So, are we dyeing away the pink then?’ she asked again. ‘How long will it take, twenty minutes?’ I asked Julia.

‘Nope, it will take at least an hour to dye over this pink back to a more natural brown. It has to be dyed several times to get the pink out.’ Julia answered. I panicked for a moment. If I spent one hour getting the pink dyed out, I would be late for work. And if I’m late, I will lose the job, likely. I probably needed the job more than anything else then, even my hair. In a frantic state of mind, I thought desperate times call for desperate measures. ‘Shave it then.’ I told Julia firmly, although my heart was being torn apart on the inside at the same time.

‘Are you sure, this is a lot of hair!’ Julia said, shocked from my request. ‘Yes, do it.’ I said, and the conversation came to an end. She disappeared around the corner, and returned with an oversized haircutting collar. Julia draped it above the larger cape, and tightened it at the back as well.

Julia whipped out a pair of clippers, and turned it on with a thud. With no questions asked, she pulled back my hair, revealing my hairline at the forehead, and plunged the clippers straight from front to back. A bare, white path was now left in place of what were originally long luscious, pink tresses. She continued shaving in a similar manner, until she reached almost my right temple. She repositioned herself slightly, and pushed the clippers up straight to the temple area. The dislodged pink locks fell onto the cape, and slid down to my lap.

Pink Dye Shave 1

After getting rid of the length on my right side, she made quick work of the back as well, leaving only my left side intact. Julia and I were laughing at how hilarious I looked as she continued shaving my head.

Pink Dye Shave 2

As she reached the left side gradually, more locks began to slide down the cape gradually, forming a significant pile on my lap. With a few final pushes up the left side to the temple, I officially became bald. The cold air felt chilly on my head, deprived of the pink curtain that used to shelter my head. They were all gone now. I was not disappointed though. It felt good to have some change.

Just as I was about to spend some more time getting used to the bald look, I checked my watch and it reads 11.20AM. ‘I’m almost late if I don’t leave now!’ I said to Julia in an urgent tone. She quickly unfastened both of the capes, sending the thick pile of hair to the salon floor. I stood up, paid Julia for the shave, and scurried off to catch the next public bus for work.

As I reached the office, Mr. Will was already waiting by the entrance. I looked at my watch. ’11.55AM’ it reads. I heaved a sigh of relief as I walked up to Mr. Will.

‘Good afternoon Ms. Kelly. I see that you have made some improvements to your appearance. I’m sure our boss will appreciate your efforts.’ Mr. Will said as he led me into the office building. I grinned at his comment, and explained to him the story as we walked in.

Seems like shaving all that pink hair wasn’t too bad an idea after all.

Greeting the Summer Heat

‘Argh, I can’t take it anymore!’ I grumbled annoyingly to myself. The immense heat this summer has certainly taken its toll on me. Working as a marketing associate, it meant I had to be on my feet and travelling almost all the time, mostly in the open under the sun. What’s worse, I have a head of natural kinky curls, which I only managed to rebond just a few months ago, with a meagre amount of time I chipped off work.

Now, the originally pin-straight rebonded hair is a total mess with the new growth appearing. Without the help of a hair dryer and straightener, I look like a total disaster. ‘This had to stop.’ I thought. I certainly needed a low maintenance hairstyle, something that is wash-and-go, so I can spend more time on my work and other things I have to attend to.

Living in a small town with a population of less than two thousand, there was not much commercial business going on here, except for a small mall at the centre of the town. I grabbed my car keys, and drove towards the mall without a further thought.

In the mall lie probably the only two places where the townsfolk can get their hair done; Sam’s Barbershop for the men, and a Unisex Salon for the ladies, or the metrosexual guys. Usually, I would have gotten my hair done in the city area, where there are more posh salons. However, desperate times call for desperate measures. I knew that this had to be done, here and now.

Obviously, Sam’s Barbershop was out of the story. Thus, I headed towards the Unisex Salon. As I reached the outer corridor of the salon, I peered inside. Seeing that there was nobody getting their hair done at the moment, I gave a sigh of relief as I was assured there would not be any strange remarks for what I am going to do in the next hour.

I pushed open the door, and entered the unisex salon. My entrance did not go unanswered; a young lady, dressed in a double-denim outfit and a pair of Birkenstocks, greeted me and gestured for a nearby chair. I took a seat, and she excused herself briefly to get ready.

She returned quickly, this time with a hairdressing apron on, and a chocolate-brown cape on hand. I sat properly as she draped the cape around me, and fastened it snuggly around my neck. ‘So, how would you like your hair cut today madam?’ she asked as the chair was pumped up several times.

‘Take everything off.’ I said, without a second thought in mind.

‘Oh, getting the big chop I see. You do have some decent length which is natural though. Would you prefer I cut off the length until where the natural ends are?’ she questioned. I deliberated for a moment, and came up with my final decision. ‘No, I want to take it all off.’ I replied.

‘Sounds like a clean start to me. Alright, a #2 coming up!’ she exclaimed, almost as if she struck the lottery, to be able to shave off all my hair.

She walked forward, picked up the clippers hanging on a hook beside a small drawer, and replaced the guard with one from a box on the top of the drawer. The clippers came alive with a loud thud. The lady pulled up a section of hair close to my occipital bone, so that she could get a clearer look at the length on my nape. The buzzing noise of the clippers came closer to my ears, and transmuted into a continuous tearing sound as I felt the vibration of the clippers push upwards from my nape. With all the curly kinks grown out, I was actually more worried about the clippers getting jammed than losing all the length.

Salon Big Chop

She repeated the motion several times, each time with less tension than the previous. With the last stroke having little to no tension from the touch, I knew that all the length at the back was gone. The lady then repositioned herself, and proceeded to shave off everything on my left, up to the temple. The sheared curls tumbled down my shoulder, and rested in my lap above the cape. Where the clippers mowed through, laid super-short stubble now.

She repeated the process with the other side, leaving a huge heap of hair on my lap, and all over the salon floor. The clippers went silent for a moment, as she brushed off the scraggly mess that had stuck onto the clipper blades from all the shaving.

Without further delay, the clippers came back on. Mentally, I said goodbye to my locks as she positioned the clippers at my forehead, and pushed them back, all the way to where the stubble at my back lies, connecting the length. With a few more similar pushes, all the remaining locks tumbled to the floor, and lied there restless. I stared in the mirror, emotionless as I observed my newly cropped head. I reached out of the cape and caressed the stubble. It pricked me gently. I loved it! It was exactly what I have been looking for.

Giving my nape a gentle brush, the lady unfastened the cape off me, sending the heap of my locks to the floor. I stood up, paid her for the haircut, and left for the door.

As I stepped outside, the heat was no longer as intense to me. With my newly shaved head, I greeted the summer weather. I think I’m going to keep it this short for a long time to come.

St Baldrick’s Fair

My mobile phone vibrated. And it repeated, again. Reluctantly, I pulled myself up from bed. Pulling aside the curtains, the sunlight shone through brightly, glaring on my hardly-opened eyes. I picked up my phone, and glanced at the text message that woke me up.

‘Hey, it’s Joan. There’s a St Baldrick’s fair going on downtown today, see you there at twelve!’ the message reads. Joan was my best friend in college and we kept contact with each other frequently, even though college was already past memories from years ago.

The wall clock reads 10.15AM. There is plenty of time to get myself ready before meeting Joan. I took a cold shower to get myself prepped up for the summer heat. Fortunately, my long auburn locks was easy to manage and did not take much effort; a good ten minutes of blow-drying and some mousse to manage the gentle curls at the ends, good to go. I wore a white sleeveless top, and paired it with skinny jeans. To finish off the look, I picked a black leather jacket, put it on, and headed for the door.

The St Baldrick’s fair wasn’t too far away, probably just a five minutes’ walk down the street and I’ll reach it. I know the place pretty well because it happens annually, always at the same venue. As I reached the fair area, I spotted Joan already waiting for me there, standing in the shade of one of the tents. ‘How are you Joan?’ I asked, giving her a hug at the same time.

As per the normal meet-ups with her, we would exchange greetings and chat about what’s happening recently. After some time, we decided to check out the head shaving area. There, we saw several yellow tents pitched to the ground, and under each was a chair. The participants of the head shaving event would get their shaved while sitting on these chairs. Joan and I decided to stop by near one of the tents and watch one of the participants get his hair all shaved off.

St Baldricks 2

As I watched, it reminded me of a guy friend, whom always remarked that, regardless of gender, everyone should get their head shaved at least once in their life, and that it is a great feeling. That aroused my curiosity a little.

As I watched the clippers deprive the participant of his mane, I suddenly felt aroused down there. It was a strange sensation, but nonetheless pleasant.

Out of the blue, I suddenly had an absurd idea. I thought this could be the moment; the moment I shaved my head, the once-in-a-lifetime moment. As if irrationality overcame me, I gestured to Joan that I would be back in a bit, and wandered off. As I walked around the large tents, I spotted a freshly-shorn participant get up from one of the chairs. This was my chance.

As the participant walked away, I walked over nervously, legs almost going jelly. ‘Hi, may I get my head shaved?’ I asked the middle-aged lady who was in charge of the station. ‘Sure, take a seat.’ She replied casually as she brushed the chair to clean off the shaved hairs from the previous participant.

I sat down, trying to calm myself, despite it being mostly futile. The fluid thoughts of myself getting shaved filled up my mind, and I tried hard to stay composed on the outside, even though I was about to break apart on the inside.

As the lady picked up the green cape, I pulled up my long hair behind, so that she can drape the cape over me easily. She threw the cape over me, took over hold of my hair, and fastened the cape snuggly around my neck with the other hand.

St Baldricks 3

St Baldricks 4

As I sat there while waiting for the lady to begin, I noticed a crowd gathering around; it is probably a rare occurrence for girls like me to get shaved at events like this. It was then I started regaining rationality, and realized the stakes were high this time. Although I bore thoughts of making an escape, I convinced myself it was for a good cause, and was worth it.

The lady gave me a gentle pat and asked if I would like to keep my ponytail. I gave a slight nod, and was replied with a loud thud from the clippers. She pushed my head down slightly, with my chin almost touching my chest. Without any second thoughts, she plunged the clippers up my nape, and repeated several times. The sound of the clippers changed and roared lightly at my ears as it was pushed through, severing off my hair tight to the scalp.

St Baldricks 5

After several moments, the sounds stopped, and the lady presented me with a ponytail of my hair. It was at least fifteen inches long! My head felt lighter instantaneously as well from losing all the length.

St Baldricks 6

That was just the start of all the excitement though. As I played with my freshly-cropped ponytail, the clippers came back on, and the lady sheared through my remaining locks. I giggled from the clippers’ touch; it was one of my first time getting into contact with a pair of clippers. As the lady was busily focused on mowing through my hair, the newly sheared hair fell down, gathering into a pile on my lap above the cape.

St Baldricks 7

As the lady made a final few passes with the clippers, I could feel that there was little to no tension against the clippers anymore; a sign that all my hair had been shaven off. She dusted me a little and unfastened the cape, sending the thick pile of hair to the ground.

I stood up, and felt my new bald head. The short stubble pricked gently against my touch, but it was a pleasurable feel. It was then Joan came up from behind me, smiling at my unexpected makeover. ‘You look great girl!’ she commented, as she gave me a tight embrace. With everything shaved off, that means no more ends for me to play with. No more cover-ups for my pimples or freckles. But it felt great, and I continued my date with Joan for the rest of the day, whilst getting used to my new bald head look.

St Baldricks 8