Karen’s Hair

Karen's Hair

Karen’s Hair – Nevius

This whole story really wasn’t that long ago. My name is Mark, and I really don’t know why this ‘fetish’, as some people call it, is doing this to my life. It started out in High school, and kept getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on whose outlook you take). I really don’t know what to say at this point; I’ll tell you the whole story.

“No Mark, I can’t let you do it. My mom will get mad, my friends, my whole class at school, I can’t.”

“Come on Karen, I’m only going to give you a trim. Please, please let me do this to you, pretty please?”

“Come on Mark, how could you take so much pleasure from something as simple as putting a pair of scissors in my hair and cutting across just a half-inch?”

“I’ll do anything, you name it, anything for the privilege of taking the scissors, and comb and start taking off a half-inch.”

“Alright, fine. A half-inch! Let me see what a half-inch is to you”

I raised my hand and spread my fingers until they were about four inches apart.

“Forget it!”

“I’m kidding; this is a half-inch” and I showed her, for real this time.

“I can’t believe I am going to do this…”

“Come on, Karen… Come on. First, it needs to be wet. Is there some kind of sink around here?”

“Over there, besides the washer.”

And there was. I couldn’t believe my good fortune! A half-inch! She was going to let me cut it! We went to the sink and I started to wash it.

“Ok just dip your head forward and let it fall in the sink”

“If anything happens, my mom will kill me!”

I took the hose I had and turned on the hot water.

“Ouch! That’s too hot!”

I loved making her feel that pain. None-the-less I turned the hot water down. She had the most beautiful long brown hair, the main reason why I went out with her.

“That’s better.”

So I took the shampoo, and then the conditioner. I was exhilerated. To think, a half-inch; it’s going to be in my hands, I could play with it. We were getting done with the preparations.

“Do you have a towel?”

“Sure, here, let me do it.”

“Ok, just be careful!”

The drying off process; the whole thing, thus far, was pretty easy. I fumbled around with her gorgeous brown locks, and then I started to comb them.

“I can not believe I’m letting you do this.”

“It will be alright Karen, you, or the rest of the world won’t even know that you didn’t go to a professional.”

I started out in back. I first of all clipped a few layers off to the side of the back; not cut, clipped. Then I brushed out the remaining layer. Snip, snip. A half-inch gone. I combed out another couple of layers. Snip, snip. I think that is where I lost it; I knew that I could go ahead and finish, but the next time… Anyway, I finished combing the layers out in back and cut them as well.

“A half-inch, right?”

“Yes, yes ,yes; a half-inch.”

So I went to the sides, and we were done. They, again, were easy; just brush out the sides, grab the hair with your fingers and snip away.

“Are we done?”

“Yep. See, a pro-job. Go look in a mirror.”

So she did, and was impressed.

“Wow! Nice job!”

What little did she know.

So I took her home in my car, and I reached over to touch her hair.

“I can not believe you did such a good job. Congratulations!”

“Hey Kar, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing, why?”

“I just thought we could go camping for the weekend.”

“Sounds good. I’ll call you tomorrow. Thanks again!” as she held up her hair.

“My pleasure. Bye.”

Now I had to be smart. I went home and saw her hair on the floor, too much. I picked it up, and went to bed, with some interesting dreams. Now I must warn you, the next part, isn’t so nice.

The next day I packed up to go camping, and she called me around two.

“Ready to go?”

“Yep, come on over.”

So I did; went, picked her up, brought her out to the mountains to ‘camp’. There was no one around, no one.

We pitched the tent and had our fire going. Next, we sat around the fire and here’s what happened.

“Thank you so much for the nice job you did on my hair.”

“That was nothing.”

“So what are we going to do tonight?”

“Sky is the limit! I’ve got a little something that will help us out” as I produced a bottle of white wine.

“Mmmmmmmmm. What about a corkscrew?”

“You just leave it to me.”

So I had a corkscrew, and glasses in the glove compartment along with some of my heart-beat medicine, that you were not supposed to combine with alcohol… So I fed her a few glasses of wine, and she was drunk, confused, trying to get a hold of herself. Then she passed out. Now is the time. I took her inside the tent, got the scissors (the last thing in the glove box) and carried her inside the tent, where I proceeded to cut her hair, short – real short. I grabbed the back first and put the scissors to her head. CHOP! CHOP! The sides – SNIP CHOP CHOP! Finally, the top SNNNNNIP! CHHHHHHOP! My cute little girl, all her hair gone.

Well in the morning, she didn’t remember anything – nothing. She had to deal with a practically bald head. I told her what ‘happened’.

“You were wild! I don’t know where you got those scissors but you were making fun of me the way I cut a half-inch of your hair, but you just kept going and cutting!”

With her in tears, and her hair for me to keep, I pulled her in tight, and we made love.

 

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