Britney’s Cut

Britney’s Cut – Xphile666

PART I

Having just finished her set, Britney Spears was heading back to her dressing room. Her shoulder-blade length auburn hair swayed back and forth rhythmically as she made her way through the fans that were already back there with their backstage passes. With a sigh to herself, she knew that that number would grow. She wove past all the fans and all of her security personnel and slipped into the dressing room. Immediately, she kicked off her shoes and sat down on a couch and put her feet up. But she never saw the person behind her. Dressed all in black, with a ski mask on, he sneaked up behind her, and put some kind of cloth over her nose and mouth. Try as she might, she couldn’t scream through the cloth loudly enough for anyone to hear her. She struggled mightily, but soon, she went under, and saw only black.

PART II

When Britney woke up, she wasn’t exactly sure where she was. Everything was dark and she had a terrible headache from the chloroform or whatever that was. She was seated in some type of leather chair, and she noticed that both her hands were handcuffed to the arms of the chair. Her legs were simply tied with some type of nylon cord to what appeared to be a footrest attached to the chair. She tried to scream, but some type of gag was stuffed in her mouth. All of her clothes had been stripped off as she looked down and saw nothing, save her breasts, her legs and her feet. She tried to move them but it was, again, no use. As her eyes started to get used to the darkness, her assailant stepped out of the shadows. Britney tried to squirm away, but found she was held tight.

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“I’ve admired you from afar for so long, Britney. I bought all your albums, I know all the lyrics. I wrote you so many times. I’ve loved your music, your body, and everything about you ever since your debut. But there was only one thing I wanted from you in my letters. I wanted a true souvenir to remember you by. I wanted a lock of your hair. But you ignored me. Now, I’ll take all I want.”

He threw on the lights to reveal that he had taken Britney to an old-fashioned barber shop.

PART III

Britney’s eyes opened wide with horror. This fan was going to cut all her beautiful hair off, and she was powerless to do anything about it. She had no idea where she was or who this was. All she knew was he was coming towards her with a pair of shears, the blades glinting in the light. She struggled and squirmed against her restraints to no avail. The assailant straddled her and, grabbing a strand of hair, cut off about three inches of it. He then looked at the hair. He got off Britney and knelt down on the floor by her feet. He kissed both of her feet, and then began to tickle her soles with the hair. Britney laughed uncontrollably, but it was muffled through the gag. He slowly worked his way up her legs, around her cunt, up the torso and then straddling her again, brushed her nipples with the three-inch lock of hair. Then he threw it up in the air, and it floated harmlessly down to the floor. He then began to walk back behind Britney and stopped to whisper in her ear.

“The fun is only beginning. You’re gonna get the haircut you deserve. It’ll be all gone.”

She tried to scream but only a muffled sound of distress escaped. He grabbed another strand, and SSSNNNIIIPPP! He cut off about a six inch strand. She heard the ugly crunching sound of the scissors and a tear rolled down her cheek. All her hair, all her beautiful hair was going to be cut. Again, he took it and threw it into the air. This action was repeated again and again and again. SSSNNNIIIPPP! SSSNNNIIIPPP! SSSNNNIIIPP! He would grab a strand and hack it off, only to throw it up and watch it float harmlessly to the ground. He grabbed a huge handful of her hair and proceeded to hack through it, though slowly with the scissors. He threw it all up into the air at once. Strips of Britney’s hair were floating through the air like snowfall. She sobbed audibly as tears fell down her face. He took another six inch length and snipped it off. He then used it to dry her tears which only brought another sob to light. SSSNNNIIIPPP! Off came another strand. By now, hair was starting to collect in her lap and on the floor. All her crowning auburn glory was being taken from her. It was no longer around her beautiful face, but on the floor, limp, lank and lifeless. It was being cut off and taken from her. She sobbed again. She tried to scream and work her way out of the chair, but when neither worked, she slumped down into the chair and sobbed. She was crying uncontrollably at this point.

Her bangs were the only thing left intact. He had denuded the sides and the back of almost all of her hair. He took the bangs and, holding them taut in his hands, sliced them off to the very top of her forehead. As the locks fell past her face, another tear joined them in their descent. He then began to walk away. Britney was starting to feel relieved, until she heard a startlingly different sound. POPP! Electric clippers coming to life. She squealed again. She squirmed and struggled more mightily than before, but still to no avail. She was bound tight. Britney could hear the clippers attack what was left of her once voluptuous mane. Soon it would be naught but stubble. BBBUUUUZZZZ! More auburn hair flew into the air. It was snowing hair again in the barber shop. BBBUUUUZZZZ! BBBUUUUZZZZ! The clippers made short work of what was left on the crown. He then focused on the nape. BBBUUUUZZZZ! BBBUUUUZZZZ! He deliberately took what was clipped off and, holding it in his hands, sprinkled it all over Britney’s naked body. Auburn waves littered her breasts, her stomach, and collected on the floor by her feet. The hungry clippers reduced everything in their path to nothing but stubble. As he finally turned off the clippers, the last few strips of Britney’s hair were floating down to her lap. She was still a wreck, totally engulfed in sobs and tears. Then, as, he took the rag to her face again, she could faintly hear him unlocking her restraints as she went under.

PART IV

Britney woke up on a roadside in the middle of nowhere. She felt the top of her head, afraid to feel what she might find, or the lack thereof. She sobbed again when she felt the stubble where her hair used to be. Just then, she thought about her competition. The likes of Jessica Simpson, Mandy Moore, and so on and so forth. She had to giggle to herself, when she thought to herself:

“Just think what they’ll have to do to keep up with me now! They’ll never forget that I’m the originator of this movement, and they’ll never mistake me for them again.”

She laughed to herself again at the thought as she walked off into the darkness, in search of civilization.

THE END

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