Alphabet Cuts: Kayte

Cutting Kayte’s hair was pleasurable because she actively encouraged me to do what I wanted. Kayte told me as I cut her hair that she wanted the style to cause a big impression. “When I go back to work I want to shock them,” she told me with the hint of wickedness in her blue eyes. From what Kayte told me of her colleagues’ reaction, shock was their first response, they then all agreed that she looked great but it must have taken a lot of courage to go through with it.

Kayte’s hair was naturally a very light blonde, a shade achieved without the aid of chemicals. When Kayte sat down her style was an outgrown pixie – what she stood up with was significantly shorter. Kayte was brave, there was to be no hiding with the style I intended for her, as she was 5’11 she would find it hard to hide anyway, I knew Kayte had the confidence, attitude and striking good looks to carry it off. Kayte was very excited by the occasion, excitement almost matched by my own feelings, the smile on Kayte’s face when I took a “before” picture could not have been wider.

“You will remember to stop and take pictures, you won’t get carried away will you?” she asked. Truthfully I replied that I would find it difficult to stop but there was no way I was not going to record this transformation. I completed the pre-cut photoset by taking pictures of Kayte’s profile as well as the rear of her head and without my asking Kayte also leant forward and facilitated my camerawork by bringing her hand up to her neck and pulling her hair up and close to her scalp, exposing her soon to be shorn nape. Throughout the whole cut Kayte’s attitude was one of compliance and encouragement to my cutting.

“You’re going to use the clippers aren’t you?” It was as much an instruction as a question.

“Of course,” I said, showing Kayte the instrument of her transformation

“Will there be a guard on those, they look a bit keen?” Kayte winked as she asked the question, I played along with her.

“Only if you want me to put a guard over them, if not then a lot of hair will be clipped away very quickly.”

“Will that be such a bad thing?” Kayte was teasing me as much as I was her.

“Let’s do a trial run,” I said. “If I cut here you can see if it is too short ” I pointed to her temple before pushing the unguarded clippers over her right ear. Kayte’s hair was swiftly dispatched. There was little resistance to the teeth, the tone of the clippers changed as they cut her hair away. Soon I had shaved a path through Kayte’s hair, exposing her head to the light of day. “Too short?” I asked

“If it is, what can you do? You can’t stick it back on, can you?” Kayte felt her head. “Oooh,” she murmured, “I thought it would be all bristly but it’s not, it’s so soft.”

“Is that a yes then?” I asked

“I can still feel some hair, even though it’s hard to see any”

“Looks good though, let me take a photo and I’ll carry on”

I quickly took a photo then picked up the clippers, this time I worked up Kayte’s head, pushing the clippers from the shorter hair through the longer hair above. The only noise was the whirr of the clippers as they bared more of Kayte’s head. Soon the right hand side of Kayte’s head appeared naked, the only way to be aware of the presence of hair was to touch Kayte’s scalp. As I did so, she shuddered.

“Feels nice?” I asked

“What do you think?” Again there was a glint in her eye and a smile.

“Photograph please.” I handed Kayte the clippers and took a photograph. As I was taking a couple of snaps I heard the clippers start again. I took the camera away from my eye to see Kayte holding the clippers against the other side of the head. She paused briefly then pushed them up her head. The advance of the clippers was visible by the wave of shorn hair it pushed before it. Soon the waves broke and the teeth of the clippers appeared.

Kayte shook off the clippers. Big clumps of blonde hair fell to the floor and she positioned them for another pass up her head. “Quickly – take a picture of me,” she urged. I moved around and recorded the moment as Kayte pushed the clippers through her hair, shaving herself close to the scalp. Kayte handed me back the clippers and I continued her work. Soon she had a right side to match her left. Kayte turned her head and laughed as she saw the mohican she sported.

“Job done,” I joked and put the clippers down before taking a photo, finishing the film. I ejected it and put a new film in.

Kayte shot me a look of disbelief. “I’ll finish it off myself if you don’t,” she said.

“You know that I can’t leave it there,” I reassured her and picked up the clippers again. I moved behind Kayte and compliantly she put her chin to her breasts as I placed the clippers at her hairline before purposely and progressively pushing the eager clippers up to her crown, shearing her of her blonde pelt. The passage of the clippers left the merest remains of hair on Kayte’s head, the only way she would get a closer shave was with a razor blade. The vestiges of her blonde hair did nothing to disguise Kayte’s scalp. A couple more pictures and I resumed clipping. Three passes of the clippers up her nape, over the occipital bone and to her crown left Kayte’s head effectively devoid of hair. The sense of touch proved Kayte was not strictly speaking bald, but the paleness of Kayte’s scalp and the blondeness of her hair made this very hard to see. The only obvious signs of hair were on the top of her head, and I soon set about reducing this “crowning glory” to something more suitable, more sexy.

“How do you feel?” I asked, to be taken aback by her reply.

“Turned on,” Kayte admitted. “It feels fantastic,” she enthused.

“I know exactly how you feel,” I told her, as she posed for another snapshot. I remembered back to the first time I succumbed to the lure of the clippers. “There’s just a little bit more to cut.”

I temporarily put down the clippers and picked up the scissors. I teased her by doing a couple of practice snips in front of her face, before placing the cool steel against her skin. I cut an inch-long fringe, as the blades met they severed her hair, the cut hair slipped silently downwards and collected on Kayte’s chest. She laughed as she flicked it to the floor.

Picking up the clippers again I placed them on her head and pushed the bare teeth backwards from the roots of her fringe to the crown. Copious amounts of hair slipped to the floor as the clippers sliced their way through each hair, as close to the follicles as I could get. To make sure that there were no stray, longer hairs remaining Kayte encouraged me to re-clipper her, by moving the clippers in a different direction to my first pass. Frequently Kayte put her hands to her head, relying on her sense of touch to identify any offenders, “You’ve missed one, ” she said, as if I needed any encouragement to make sure she had the closest of close crops.

Soon the clippers could cut no more, I was using them just to satisfy both our enjoyment. Kayte was enjoying the sensation of the clippers buzzing on her scalp and I was excited by seeing the clippers stroking her scalp. I turned the clippers off and blew over Kayte’s head to dust off any stray clippings, my breath caused not only a brief shower of hair, but a moan of excitement and a judder from Kayte, whose pale scalp contrasted with the blushing of her cheeks.

“Did you enjoy that?” It seemed an unnecessary question to ask, as Kayte’s smile said it all.

“As much as you did,” she smiled. She touched my hand with hers as I delicately brushed her scalp, feeling how soft her clipped hair was. The soft touch of my fingertips felt how silky and downy her scalp was.

As I played with her fringe to give it a bit of lift Kayte turned her head to fully appreciate her new style. Kayte stood up and hugged me.

“Go and knock them dead,” I told her. I have never seen such a big smile.

If you’d like a similar style e-mail me yvonnek39@hotmail.com

 

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