Emotional Content

The Emotional Content By Jenny

There have been a lot of short stories, fiction, and perhaps quite a bit of true content and some very good descriptions of the haircuts and I am not going to pretend that I can top any of them but my goal after reading 100s of the stories here is to describe the emotional content behind the first very short haircut I received from my stepmother when I was a young teen.

From a very young age I knew that there was something special about me and hair. After puberty it became apparent what it was. I had a hair fetish. My dad is a barber and so is my stepmother. That is how they met actually. They run a barbershop together. I used to love to go to their shop on Saturday and after school. I loved to see the long to short haircuts, especially on the girls. As a girl, my stepmom always kept my hair trimmed but I would never dare go shorter than a mid-length bob. That was kind of a pain because I always dreamed of having my hair cut off my ears and neck and a good short taper at the neckline but no way I was going to allow the kids at the high school where I went to make fun of me. Whenever a girl or boy went from long to short there was always a big deal made of it and being ridiculed about ears and smooth necks, etc. But still I still dreamed of how nice it would be.

This is where my trouble began: I had the habit of going to my bedroom and locking the door and I would pin my hair up with bobby pins to make it look and feel short. It was too short to put up in a ponytail or anything but too long to stay off my ears and neck. My stepmom kept it at that odd length. One day in the spring when I was 15 I went in my bedroom; I was real hot after gardening so I showered and pinned up my hair with the pins and stretched across the bed and started reading. My usual habit was to lock the door when my hair was pinned up in this ridiculous style and if someone knocked I would hurry and take the pins out and answer it. This time however I forgot to lock the door and I accidentally went off to sleep. The next thing I knew my stepmom was in my bed, waking me and asking me what was wrong. I told her I must have drifted off and that I was tired. Then she asked the golden question.

“What have you done with your hair?”

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I felt the blood run from my face and my legs became real weak. I stuttered and said, “Oh, nothing. I was just hot and pinned it up. I do that sometimes.”

She said, “Oh you don’t have to do that. I can cut it short for you.”

I said, “Oh no, you don’t have to do that. I like it the way it is.”

She said, “I know it gets hot on you when you exercise like you do and when you work in your flower garden and I have cut it at this odd length so why don’t you just let me straighten it out for you?”

About that time my dad walked by and she called his attention and told him of the deal. He said, “Okay, so just cut it off for her. It is about time she got a short cut. She is not that young anymore so give her a good short one.”

I said I did not want it but mom said, “Just come with me to the bathroom and we will take care of you and it will be over and you will be glad of it.” I tried to say no again but she just said shut up and she took me by the wrist tightly and led me to the master bedroom bathroom that had a make-up table and chair. She quickly caped me and combed out my hair. With dad’s input and with mom doing the cutting I got a short pixie with a severely tapered neckline with tiny little bangs. I just sat there and cried. The trauma of losing all my hair was bad enough but she made me clean it up afterwards. I saw my own tears fall and mix with my hair as I was sweeping my auburn locks into the dustpan and trash. My emotions begin to mix when I was back in my room. I stopped crying as I was feeling the stubble of the first taper on my virgin neckline. It had never felt like this before. My mind was racing. The excitement of the cut and the trauma of it and also how I was going to handle the school issue. My chest was heaving as I was panting with worry. As a teen the worst thing was being laughed at and I actually considered running away. My emotions were mixed with the feeling that I was glad that it was cut along with the deal I was going to have to go through at school.

I did not sleep at all that night and I spent periods crying while lying in bed in the dark. I knew my eyes were swollen the next morning when I got up. Oh how nice my hair felt in the shower. My naked neck felt so nice with the lubrication of the shampoo. That was the brief pleasure I had as I moaned in the shower, while one hand was on my nude wet neck and my other hand in forbidden places. On the way to school my stepmom was giddy with laughter. She and dad told me how cute I looked and how I was going to love my new cut. On the way to school mom drove me. I was shocked with disbelief when she mentioned that she had read my diary and she knew of my fetish. She said she knew of those things because she said, “You know both I and your father are barbers and we understand. He does not know of your fetish but I do. That is why I have been looking for a reason to cut you short and I know you will love it if you will just relax.” I told her about my feeling and school and she played it off as I knew she would. She pushed her mid-back-length hair to the front of her on her breasts and said, “You won’t miss it at all.”

As I thought when I approached the hallway of the first floor. My knees were weak and my heartbeat was at a record high and the snickers and laughs and remarks went on along with a few good ones and my closest friends comforted me. That day was hell but it ended with a big surprise. When mom picked me up I hardly recognized her. Her hair was as short as mine. She was a bit teary and she told me on the way home that dad made her get the cut as an advertisement and he wanted us to look similar. She said, “I am sorry I cut your hair because now I know how it feels. I have never had hair even cut to my shoulders, much less a tapered cut.” One last tear ran down her cheek.

I caught it with my finger and wiped it on her neckline and I said, “Don’t worry, you won’t miss it at all.” I closed my eyes and smiled as I enjoyed the irony of it all

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