The Mirror – Ben
You are seated behind a large, one-way mirror, looking into an old barbershop. A large leather chair is right in front of you, so close you can almost touch it. Vents in the wall allow the smell of the shop to envelop you, and you settle down to watch. A door in the back opens and a beautiful blonde girl is led in by the barber. She is maybe 22 or 23 years old and has fine long blonde hair down to her breasts. She is dressed in a man’s grey business suit, complete with collar and tie. She sits in the chair in front of you, no more than 3 feet away, and stares right at you, even though you know she is looking at her own reflection in the mirror. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, unable to control your feelings. The barber flings a cape over the blonde girl and buttons it up tight in back. You watch as her breath becomes shallow, mimicking your own.
The barber sprays her hair with a sweet-smelling liquid and combs it straight down. He removes the part from the middle and places it on her left side, sweeping the rest of her hair over her head. He takes a large pair of shears and places them at her left temple, just above the ear. Without any hesitation he cuts, moving slowly around the chair. Blonde hair falls in her lap, on her shoulders, down the cape to the floor. She licks her lips as he moves around the back, long hair on one side contrasting with the short parted side. The only sounds you hear are the scissors cutting, hair hitting the cape, and your own breathing. In moments the barber has cut a perfect line around the beautiful girl’s head, just above the ears. He takes the clippers and you jump slightly as they pop to life! The blonde girl closes her eyes and smiles, just a little.
The barber wastes no time, turning the chair so the side of the girl’s head is now facing you. He places the clippers at her temple and pushes up and over the ear. Again he turns the chair and you are looking at the back of her head. He pushes her chin to her chest and quickly makes a few passes on her lovely nape. You shiver with excitement, longing to reach out and run your fingers over the freshly clipped neck before you. In an instant it is gone, the clippers running over her other ear and down her temple. She is facing you again, her mouth slightly open, her cheeks flushed. The barber spends a few minutes with his comb and scissors tidying up bits here and there, blending the clipped hair into the top. Finally he unbuttons the cape and removes it. The beautiful blonde girl moves close to the mirror and runs her fingers through her hair and over her nape. She twirls around once, giving you a good look at the superb cut. Facing the mirror one last time she smiles and begins to undress.
As the blonde girl removes the suit coat and trousers another girl is led into the barbershop. She is screaming abuse at the two girls dragging her to the chair, her long black hair being thrashed about in all directions. The two girls manage to strap her wrists and forearms to the chair, and after more struggling get her ankles secured also. She cannot move, and she stares at the mirror in fear, right into your eyes. The blonde girl, dressed now only in shirt, tie and black lace panties, approaches the chair and begins to stroke the beautiful black mane. “Please don’t do this, Sally,” the captive girl begs, but Sally just looks at the mirror and gives you a knowing smile. She pulls a bunch of the black hair into a ponytail high on the girl’s head and secures it tightly. She then takes some curlers and rolls up the loose hair on the sides of the girl’s head, half a dozen curlers tightly strung on each side. Sally combs the hair left on the nape and all the while the girl is pleading and begging her not to cut off her pride and joy.
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“Please Sally, I will give you anything, do anything for you.” Sally begins to braid the ponytail very tightly. “Is it money, Sally? I can give you money, lots and lots of money.”
“I don’t want your money.” A long thick braid begins to emerge.
“I will do you Sally, with my tongue, that’s it isn’t it? I can make you feel soooo good Sally, I can satisfy you like nobody ever has before, just please don’t do this to me.”
Sally removes her tie and shoves it in the girl’s mouth. “Oh I will be satisfied soon enough, Jennifer, don’t you worry about that.”
Tears begin to well in Jennifer’s eyes, but still she struggles with the bindings, screaming into the gag. Sally holds the braid in her left hand and runs her right hand up and down it, feeling how tight it is. She removes the curlers and you watch with delight as a dozen curls spring up on Jennifer’s temples. Sally takes the clippers, twirls the chair around and places them at Jennifer’s nape. She removes the tie gag and the begging begins again. You are spellbound by the scene before you, part of you wanting to stop it, part of you wanting it to be played out in full.
The clippers pop to life, no guard, and Jennifer screams, “No, no, please Sally, no!” but it is too late, the clippers run up the nape again and again shearing Jennifer’s neck bare. She is sobbing now, as Sally swings the chair back to face you and stands behind it.
“Are you sorry, Jennifer?” she asks softly, caressing the ponytail in her hands.
“Yes, Sally, I am sorry, please forgive me. I will do anything for you. Anything, just please don’t take any more of my hair.”
Sally takes a pair of scissors and lays them on Jennifer’s shoulder, then changes her mind and places them on the bench. “Perhaps you are sorry, honey. Perhaps I will let you keep your curls.” Jennifer’s joy is matched by your disappointment, and your heart sinks.
“Oh thank you Sally, I will make it up to you in some way, I promise.”
Sally reaches into a cupboard and takes out a silver shoebox. She places it in Jennifer’s lap, and picks up the scissors. “You can keep them in here, sweety!”
You can hardly believe it as you watch Sally begin to snip the curls off the side of Jennifer’s head and see them fall into the box. With each snip Jennifer screams. Sally takes her time over one curl, cutting little bits at a time, and then with another she just snips it right off, no hesitation. Curls and tears fill the box, and you squirm with delight in your seat. Sally rubs her own nape with her fingers as she snips the last curl, and you notice from her shirt for the first time how excited she is. She grabs the braided ponytail and yanks on it hard, bringing her face down close to Jennifer’s. She kisses Jennifer’s forehead before taking a pink ribbon and tying it in a bow around the braid. She picks up the big shears and places them at the base of the ponytail, as close to the scalp as she can.
Jennifer is broken now, resigned to losing her pony. “Take it Sally,” she says softly, “you win.”
Sally moves the scissors away. “You will let me take it?”
“Yes, it’s yours, you have beaten me. I am sorry, truly.”
Sally holds the scissors at her side, the pony still in her left hand. “I don’t want it now, Jen.”
Jennifer’s eyes widen, a glimmer of hope in them? “You wont take it?”
“No Jen, I wont take it. I will not cut it off. I will not humiliate you any further.”
Jennifer’s tears turn to tears of joy as she realises she will keep her pony. She looks in the mirror, working out how her stylist may be able to salvage something from the mess her hair is now in. “Oh god, thank you Sally. Thank you so much. I can’t believe you won’t do it. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
An evil grin forms on Sally’s face as she looks into the mirror. “No Jen, I wont cut your pony off. I wont be the one to humiliate you completely. She will.” With that Sally slides the mirror open and hands you the scissors. Jennifer screams again, and hands trembling, knees weak, you move forward to the chair, with Sally holding the braided prize high in the air, almost lifting it off Jennifer’s scalp. You open the scissors, place them at the base of the pony and…?