Audition

The following story depicts a forced female head shaving. It is intended as a fantasy for adults, and does not advocate such activities in real life. Be kind to all living creatures.

“THE AUDITION” – Joan Rathburn, dedicated to Lady Shave

Carly Hemmings sat fidgeting in the casting agency’s office. The tall, leggy 19-year- old nervously crossed her legs in suspense as she waited to go in for her fourth call- back for the non-union exploitation flick that had been her only encouraging experience since moving to Los Angeles with dreams of being an actress six months before. The script—which had been adapted from a peculiar short story call “Nurse Brooks’ Barber Shop”— was the strangest thing she’d ever heard of. She had a hard time holding back the giggles as she read scene after scene of her character being dominated by the stern women in the story—spanked, given enemas, and having her head shaved three times in the course of the movie. Carly’s stomach tightened at the idea of her flowing red tresses being confined to a latex bald cap during the entire shoot, but the would-be thespian knew that this was her big break, so she’d already resolved to put up with the discomfort for her art. Carly forced a smile as the producer of the film, an obnoxious and obese degenerate named John Kane, came out from his office to greet her. The young actress fended off the low budget film maker’s come- ons with a put-on playfulness, but she really wanted an acting job—ANY acting job— so when he offered a greasy hug, she returned it with mock affection.

“Well, you’ve pretty much got the part, Carly,” wheezed Kane as he led Carly into the office. “I just have to make sure you check out in two ways.”

Carly was mildly surprised to find an attractive brunette of about 40 wearing a white smock waiting in the corner of the office. Kane gestured to her.

“This is Ms. Phillips,” said the producer as the woman gave Carly a cold nod. “She’ll be assisting us today.”

The girl was put off by the woman’s cold demeanor, but was secretly delighted that the presence of another woman meant that Kane would curtail his constant grabbiness. Carly flashed her moon-shaped eyes at her would-be boss.

“What scene would you like me to read today, Mr. Kane?” she asked.

“I don’t need to read you anymore,” responded the producer. “You’ve got the part down enough. No, since your character spends a lot of the film without clothes on, I need to see what you look like nude. So step behind the partition, and get undressed.”

Carly’s face flushed at the suggestion. She knew that with Miss Phillips there, she was safe enough; but the idea of her standing there in the altogether as Kane ogled her made her take a pause. Kane snapped her back into the present with an ominous bark.

“Do you want the part or don’t you?”

The girl bit her teeth together and slowly passed behind the thin cotton partition. She could see from the angle of the light that the fat old reprobate could see the silhouette of her undressing, but the redhead thought of her detested waitress job, took a breath, and began peeling off her clothes. First came the black “fuck me” pumps; then the tight grey mini-skirt to the floor. She glided the tight black tank-top off her tanned shoulders and over her head, and draped it over the partition, trying to block Kane’s view. Carly sighed and rolled down the black hose from her right leg, and then her left. The actress whispered to herself once again about what an opportunity this was, and slid her pink satin panties down her legs and off her ankles. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and walked out to be evaluated by Kane. The producer’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. Daily visits to the gym had given Carly a strong, curvaceous figure with strong limbs and a full bust line. The girl looked at the floor self- consciously, and blushed a deep red as she remembered she had shaved off her pubic hair that morning to end the battle of dealing with her bikini line.

“You’ll work out just fine,” wheezed Kane as Carly averted her gaze from the mounting bulge she could see in the producer’s pants. “We have only one more test to do. Since your character’s head is shaved for most of the film, I’ll have to see what you look like bald. So sit down in that chair, and Ms. Phillips will shave your head.”

Carly’s jaw nearly dropped to the ground. She knew that the character’s head was shaved in the script, but she assumed that it would be faked for the shooting. “But I thought that you would use a bald cap,” spurted the girl as she stroked her waist- length mane of flaming red tresses for reassurance.

“That’s MUCH too expensive,” retorted Kane as he lit one of his long black cigars. “We’ll use a red wig on you for the first scenes, but I have to see what you look like shaved, so sit down.”

Tears started welling up in the girl’s eyes as she stood paralyzed.

“If you don’t want to do it,” said Kane as Ms. Phillips tapped her foot impatiently, “feel free to put your clothes on and go home. We start shooting the day after tomorrow, and I don’t have time to waste on prima donna amateurs.”

Carly tried in vain to stifle the tears now rolling down her cheeks as she quietly walked towards the umsympathetic figure of Ms. Phillips, who was taking a pair of metal shears and electric clippers from out of her bag. The girl could feel her head shaking from anxiety, but gingerly sat down in the cold metal chair as the barber threw a white towel roughly over her shoulders. For the first time, Ms. Phillips looked at Kane and spoke.

“You want her head shaved completely smooth, right?” she asked in an icy voice.

“Right,” answered Kane as the volume of Carly’s sobs became more and more audible.

The young actress sat rigidly as tears streamed down her face while the barber silently picked up a thick lock of her scarlet curls and sank the shears into them with a loud “SNIP!” Carly held back a scream the fiery red tress floated down to her tanned, muscular thigh. Ms. Phillips began her chopping in earnest as remnants of the girl’s mane seemed to be flying all around her, landing softly on the floor. After an eternity of chopping while Carly cried throughout, the girl’s hysteria reached a new level when she heard the “CLICK!” of the barber turning on her clippers and bringing them towards the young actress’ matted scalp. The buzz of the clippers couldn’t drown out Carly’s weeping, as Kane sat silently watching, still puffing on his cigar. The girl was finally too spent to cry any more as the clippers made their final pass across her skull, and she could feel Ms. Phillips smoothing shaving cream over her stubbly dome. The first pass of the razor felt like a trail of fire to Carly, as she gazed in panic at the huge piles of red curls around her feet. The drag of the blade continued again and again, until finally Carly could feel Ms. Phillips roughly towelling off the final drops of cream from her smooth skull. The girl finally turned and looked at the mirror on Kane’s wall. The gorgeous mountain of tresses had been replaced by a satiny smooth bald pate. Carly’s lower lip trembled uncontrollably as she looked at the bold contrast of the tan line between her tanwy forehead and her snow white scalp that had been covered by a gorgeous cascade of red curls only moments before. Kane smiled at her broadly, reached into his desk, and pulled out a contract.

“You’ve got the part,” he said.

 

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