Like Hers

Like Hers

Like Hers – 0

It was an addiction, she realised. A terrible addiction. For as long as she could remember, Terry had found the cutting of hair – and more importantly, her own hair – to be a terribly thrilling experience. But frightening, too. She tried various ways of getting it under control. When she was young, she used to cut her dolls’ hair. Not often. Perhaps once a week. And only the tiniest amount. Then she’d play with them as usual, taking great pleasure in the fact that only she knew that they had cut their hair. She stopped when the difference became too obvious, though.

In her teens, she had done pretty much the same thing to her own hair. First placing the scissors in one lock, then developing the habit of trimming her hair across the whole length. She cut so little no-one ever noticed, though.

And suddenly she had grown up, had a job, and was living on her own. Alright, college had come in between. But she hadn’t been so alone there. Somehow her social life had left her little time for her `interest’. When she did trim her hair (largely because she couldn’t justify the expense of going to the salon) it didn’t seem as exciting as it had earlier. She thought she had overcome this particular childhood disease.

But then she had been living on her own. Few friends in the neighborhood, no partner in her life… And a terrible urge to get her waist-length hair trimmed. It just couldn’t show.

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So, she had sought out a salon. `Sally’s’ seemed to fit the bill. Run by an old lady and catering to the same, she was sure they could deal with conservative trims. And they did. And she had, more importantly, become acquainted with Lara. Lara was more or less her age, and didn’t really seem to fit in with the rest of the shop. Apparently she was a niece of Sally’s or something.

Anyway, Lara had worn her hair to her shoulders (although lately it had become a chin-length bob), and had been very entertaining. It seemed she liked cutting (and talking with) someone her own age. She did trims well, cutting nothing more than asked. Most of the time.

She had also, once, cut two inches more than she had been explicitly asked. Terry had been shocked, of course, but afterwards, she realised what a terrible rush it had been. It also occurred to her that Lara had looked at her in a satisfied way, as if she understood how exciting this had been for her. Lara might be on to her. Lara might once, decide to give her what she really wanted and place the scissors a lot higher. So the next time, she explicitly asked for Lara to cut her. And the time after that. Each time, hoping that Lara would cut more than she asked. She never did though.

She made her appointments once every two weeks. Until Sally had retired, and had sold the shop to Lara, who promptly decided to redecorate the place, closing the shop for four weeks.

It had been terrible going cold turkey like that. She could get a trim anywhere, but she wanted Lara to do it. But tomorrow the shop would open again. She couldn’t wait that long. So she picked up her cellphone and dialed Lara’s personal number.

“Yeah?” a voice sounded. Over the phone she could also hear the sound of a radio playing loudly. Clearly, Lara was still busy finishing up the shop.

“Listen, Lara, it’s me, Terry. I’ve got a favor to ask of you,” she said.

“I’m listening,” came Lara’s voice.

“I know you’re busy with the shop and everything, but I’ve got an important meeting tomorrow, and I need to look my best. I wonder if you could give me a trim today anyway.”

Suddenly, the radio stopped. Lara had turned it off, apparently.

“No,” the reply came.

Terry paused, surprised.

“I won’t do trims anymore, Terry. I am willing to give you a haircut, though.”

Terry gasped, realising too late that it would be all too hearable over the phone. Her heart pounded.

“Ehm, I’d really like a trim,” she supplied, knowing that she really didn’t.

“Ah, come on, Terry! You’ve worn your hair exactly the same for what, a year now? I don’t mind doing your hair, but I’m tired of nibbling the ends away with the scissors.”

She took a deep breath. “Alright,” she spouted out.

“Great. I’ll see you in an hour or so.”



Oh dear. What had she done? She could still back out, couldn’t she? But did she want to back out? I mean, this was what she craved for so long, wasn’t it?

She was almost hyperventilating, her heart was pounding so hard it seemed to have entered her throat. Alright, she would go through with this. But what? What would suit her? The act of cutting her hair had always been so secretly arousing to her she never even thought of how she would cut it. Like now. Oh, shit, she couldn’t afford to be aroused like this. She lay down on the sofa and took a deep breath. Let’s do this rationally. Since she was going to get her hair cut, she might as well choose a good style. No holding back. Alright, what looked good, and was easy to maintain? Or should she let Lara do her thing? But she might cut it short. But she wasn’t afraid of that anymore, was she? Perhaps… she should get the same cut as Lara. I mean, the chin-length bob thingy looked pretty good on her, didn’t it? She wasn’t sure about the slightly buzzed back, but she had a feeling it would suit her too. And even if Lara wanted her to go shorter than that, she could hardly refuse the flattery.

Alright, then it’s settled. She would get her hair cut like Lara’s. She would get her hair cut like Lara’s. She walked over to the mirror, trying to picture herself wearing the cut. Shit, she couldn’t even picture herself asking Lara to cut it for her. Best to practice that first, then. “I’d like to get the same haircut as you.” No, what about, “I’d like to get it cut like yours, please.” Much better.

The sun was shining nicely warm on her head. Spring was obviously in the air. And Terry was still nervous. What if Lara would find it strange that she wanted her hair cut like hers? She ran the sentence through her head again. “I’d like to get it cut like yours, please.”

She was pretty sure she could say it now without stammering.

Sally’s salon had changed dramatically. Apparently, Lara had renamed it `Image’. Sounds like she wanted to change her customer demographics as well. She opened the door, and the smell of fresh paint greeted her. In the back stood someone dressed in a paint-stained coverall. Her head was bald.

“Lara?” Terry asked.

“Oh, hi Terry!” the response came.

“I see you’ve made some changes,” Terry remarked.

“You like it?” she said, rubbing her head.

“It looks pretty good on you,” Terry admitted.

“That’s nothing compared with how it feels,” she said, taking Terry’s hand and placing it on her head.

Terry rubbed it. It felt nice and smooth. “Wow,” she said.

It distracted her. She had run the scenario over and over in her mind. Lara would ask her to sit down, and she would ask her to shave her head. Ehm, make that cut it short. Having to spend time admiring Lara’s new do somehow upset her schedule.

“What on earth made you do it?” she asked, interested.

“Phew, you’d better ask what on earth made me wait. I’ve been dying to shave my head for the past two years.”

“Well, it looks good on you,” Terry said.

“But you came here to get your hair cut, not look at my scalp.” Lara cut her short. “Sit down. What did you have in mind?” she continued.

Finally, she could get to it. Never mind Lara’s distractingly beautiful (and actually arousing) head, she had been working up too much courage for this moment to allow herself to wait even the shortest moment.

“I’d like to get it cut like yours, please,” she said.

Only when Lara looked at her as if she had been struck by lightning did she realise her mistake. But Lara’s expression had already changed from amazement to excitement.

“You, mean, you want to go bald too? That’s soooooo cool! I mean, you’ve got exactly the right head for it. Did you know I actually fantasized about shaving your head when I trimmed your hair, because it would look so good on you?”

“Ehm, I meant, like you used to wear it,” Terry interrupted.

Lara’s face changed.

“I meant the chin-length bob, really,” she said, slightly apologetic.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lara said. “I just thought you were…”

“Were what?” Terry asked.

“Well, like me, really. I mean, I thought you were just as stuck up about cutting your hair as I was, the way you reacted when I cut your hair slightly shorter than you asked…”

“What do you mean?” she asked again, although she had a good idea what Lara meant.

“I mean, I’ve always wanted to cut my hair, but I’ve always been reluctant to do it. I don’t know, it’s almost a sexual thing for me. Considering how often you had me trim your hair, I figured you were the same,” Lara admitted.

“I am.” Terry confessed. This was the first time in her life she had openly talked about this with someone.

“So your decision to go for a bob must have been pretty tough, eh?” Lara said.


“Well, let’s take this slowly then, shall we?” she said. “You’ll want to shave your head eventually.”

“What do you mean?” Terry asked.

“If you’re like me, once you’ve thought about it, you’re hooked. It’s a fact. You can’t go back, and you won’t feel… complete until you’ve done it. Does the thought of shaving your head arouse you a little?” she asked.

Terry considered it. Imagined how it would feel. “More than a little,” she admitted.

“Then it’s a sure thing,” Lara said. “But we’ll start with a bob.” Saying that, she walked away to get some of her equipment.

“Were you serious when you said I’d look good bald?” Terry asked suddenly.

Without saying anything, Lara pulled her hair backwards into a tail. Then she smeared some styling gel through it, trying to make it as tight as humanly possible. “Look at it,” she said. “You look much better without the hair in your face.”

Terry tried to imagine herself without hair. She couldn’t. She wasn’t even sure she was going to look better bald anyway. But she was extremely aroused, and wasn’t going to give it up. “Fuck it,” she said. “Shave it off.”

“Your wish is my command,” Lara said, as she grabbed the clippers lying on the counter. She positioned herself behind me, and from her heavy breathing Terry could hear she wasn’t the only one being aroused here. Suddenly it dawned on her why Lara had become a hairdresser.

She positioned the clippers at the temple on the left side of Terry’s head, and flicked them on. The vibrations rocked her skull. This was nothing like a trim! This wasn’t gently nibbling at the ends of her hair, this was shearing them off at the roots!

Lara cleared the first path, then brought the clippers forward again to start a second. Terry could see the first pale skin exposed by her ear, Lara’s own gleaming head hovering above it as a sort of example. Soon Terry would be like her. Terry was definitely in heat, and let out a gasp.

“So it’s exciting to you, eh?” Lara said. “Let’s keep it exciting, then.” Then she turned around the chair, so Terry could no longer see herself in the mirror. She could only see Lara, and feel the eagerness with which she pulled the clippers over her head. Terry couldn’t take it much longer. With each pass she became more and more aroused. She brought her hand to her crotch, and began to squeeze it. The orgasm would come anyway, so why not help it a bit?

But Lara gestured her to place my hand on her crotch. Terry complied, realising that this was just as exciting for Lara as it was for her. From what she felt, she guessed she had some sort of a mohawk at the moment. And suddenly Lara was sitting on Terry’s lap, squeezing her breast with one hand, while operating the clippers with the other. Terry continued to touch Lara’s crotch, and was now using her other hand to pleasure herself as well. The chair was rocking madly now, and they were both moaning like female tennis players. Finally the last pass came, along with them. The chair fell over backwards, but fortunately they didn’t hurt anything. Terry rolled over, getting herself out of the chair and on top of Lara. Then they rolled over again, so Lara lay on top of Terry.

From somewhere, Lara produced shaving cream and a razor, and began lathering Terry’s head. She told her to sit very still, while she began to scrape the lather away with the razor. Terry was pretty exhausted anyway, so it was fine by her. It took a long time though, as Lara wanted to get Terry perfectly smooth. Terry began stroking her soft thighs.

“Not yet,” Lara whispered.

Finally, she seemed satisfied, and they both rose to their feet. She massaged Terry’s scalp with some sort of oil, which made it gleam like hers. When they looked into the mirror, they looked like bald twins. Terry stroked Lara’s head, and she stroked Terry’s. Then she pressed her lips on Terry’s, and thrust her tongue into her mouth. She was a good kisser.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Lara said, when we finally stopped.

“What for?” Terry asked, slightly surprised and still a little shaken.

“Your daily trim,” Lara said, grinning seductively.


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