Model Behavior by BladesRule
Back during my bright college days, I worked part-time for a photography studio in Chicago. We used to do sessions for major modeling agencies doing photo layouts for prints ads, catalogs, etc. I had the pleasure of working with some gorgeous women during that time. I always looked forward to the lingerie sessions (okay, so I didn’t do it just for the money!), and I couldn’t have asked for a better way to work my way through school. All I had to do was set up the lights, arrange props, and assemble sets and backdrops, then kick back and watch the fun while our photographer, Jose, did the rest.
These sessions were often all-day affairs, involving a lot of wardrobe changes, hair styling and make-up, etc. Most of the clients we dealt with were very good people, but every once in a while, we’d encounter some really demanding people who cared little about people’s feelings. These people were not only rude to us at the studio, but to their own models as well, and they treated us like robots. I thought I’d seen it all until a session we did during the spring of ’83.
We were doing a session for an agency that was putting out a line of new wave/punk clothing, and they brought in several models made up like punks, complete with the spiky hair that was all the rage back then, and wild make-up. The clothes they were modeling were downright bizarre–any woman who would wear this stuff is either crazy or blind. Anyway, I performed my usual duties and set everything up to the clients specifications then moved to my favorite spot on the couch to watch.
A few minutes later, a beautiful young brunette approached me, and asked if she could share the sofa with me. I could hardly refuse such an adorable girl. She had rich dark brown hair, big blue eyes, and a lovely smile. Her hair was combed out straight just touching her shoulders, with bangs covering her forehead and she wore a light blue terry cloth robe and black hose. “By the way,” she smiled, “My name is Chloe.”
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“I’m Eric,” I replied as Chloe shook my hand, “Nice to meet you.”
“I just moved here from Minnesota,” Chloe said. “This is my first assignment with the agency.”
“Are you nervous?” I asked.
“Oh, not really,” she said. “I’m just tagging along today. They probably won’t use me yet. I’m just here to watch.”
“You’re very pretty,” I said.
“Well, aren’t you sweet!” Chloe smiled. “Thank you.” She settled back and watched the session with me. Chloe seemed different than most of the models I’d seen come through the studio. Much prettier, I thought, more down-to-earth than those glitzy gals with their noses up in the air. She spoke with a smooth and sexy voice, and she had an innocence about her that I found quite charming. We chit-chatted off and on throughout the morning, and I quickly became attracted to Chloe.
By afternoon, Chloe seemed rather bored with the session as she sat with her chin in one hand, her other hand continually running up and down her legs, tugging at her hose, waiting for something to happen. She had no idea what was about to happen to her.
About 3:00, the agency people were having a pow-wow about ten feet from us on the sofa. There was Ross, the head of the agency, and his assistant, a short, heavy-set redheaded lady named Glenda. They were joined by this big burly guy named Richard, and their hairstylist, Armando, who was effeminate, to say the least, and very demonstrative with his gestures. Apparently there was a crisis because one of the other models had a hissy-fit about something and walked out on the session. I could overhear most of what they were saying, and Chloe strained to hear as well.
“Who’s the girl on the couch?” Richard asked.
“That’s, uh, Chloe,” replied Glenda, “She just started today.”
“What do you think of her, Ross?” asked Richard.
“I think she’s really cute,” said Ross, “but rather goody-two-shoes, don’t you think?”
“She does look rather prim and proper,” added Glenda.
“We’d really have to do something radical to her to make her fit the image we’re trying to market here,” said Ross. “Something shocking. Any ideas?”
“We could cut all her hair off,” Armando suggested, “and REALLY change her image. Chloe looked very sullen when she overheard this remark. I even saw a tear well up in her eye.
“That might work,” said Richard. “That would look smashing with these outfits.”
“I think it’s a great idea, don’t you, Ross?” said Glenda, excitedly.
Ross nodded in approval, “Let’s do it!”
I thought to myself, “What a bunch of assholes! They want to cut off this girl’s hair without any regard to her feelings at all.”
Armando approached Chloe and knelt down in front of her, saying, “Well, we’ve lost a model today, so this is your big chance. We’re going to have to cut your hair some, though.”
“What are you going to do to it?” Chloe asked nervously.
“Just crop it some,” he said. “It’ll look very chic. You’ll love it–trust me!”
“But how much are you going to take off?” Chloe implored. “You’re not going to cut it all off are you?”
“Oh heavens no!” replied Armando, “We won’t take too much off. You’ll still have some hair, don’t worry.”
“But no one said anything about cutting my hair,” Chloe protested.
About this time Glenda butted in and said, “C’mon now, this is part of the business. You’re going to have to get used to it.”
Chloe began caressing her hair and began to cry, “But I like my hair…”
“Stop crying and let’s go,” Glenda said coldly. Chloe looked at me and I tried to give her a look of support. She looked terrified as Armando led her over to the barber’s chair, and I felt helpless. I could tell Armando was lying when he said he wouldn’t take much hair off. He switched on the electric clippers and my worst fears were realized as he began removing huge clumps of Chloe’s tresses.
Jose, who was on break at the time, saw what was taking place and said to me, “My God, what’s he doing to her?” He then turned to Glenda, who was standing nearby and said, “How can you people do this to her?”
“That’s the business, Sweetheart,” she replied bluntly.
In five minutes, Armando had reduced Chloe’s beautiful mane down to a quarter-inch of brown fuzz. He removed the cape from around Chloe’s neck, and she reached up and felt her scalp with her hands. I’ll never forget the look of horror on her face as she felt the fuzz on her head. She then whirled around to face the mirror and let out a blood-curdling scream when she saw what he’d done to her hair. She leapt to her feet and shrieked, “MY HAIR!! You BASTARD!! You shaved off all my hair, you little faggot!! Oh God!! I HATE you people!! I’m almost BALD now!!” She looked down and saw all her hair on the floor, and cried, “All my HAIR–it’s gone!!” Chloe burst into tears as she ran down the hall. I caught up with her at the end of the hall as she collapsed in the corner, crying hysterically. I took her by hand and led her into Jose’s office as she sobbed, “Eric, they cut all my hair off! Why’d they do this?”
I embraced Chloe and tried to comfort her, “I can’t believe they did this to you. I don’t know what to say. I wish I’d have stopped them.” Chloe was shaking as I held her in my arms and she cried on my shoulder. Her newly-shorn scalp felt very strange to the touch as I stroked head a couple times.
“What am I going to do?” Chloe sobbed. “My hair’s gone! I loved my hair and they took it away from me! My God, I’m practically bald! They told me I might have to get my hair cut, but I never imagined anything like this.” Chloe was actually shivering as I held her in my arms. I could only imagine what was going through her mind following such a traumatic experience. It brought back memories of my first crewcut when I was eight years old, and how embarrassed I felt when I faced my classmates at school then next day.
A few minutes passed before Glenda came bursting through the door with a full head of steam. “Is she alright now? We’ve got to get her into costume–we’re running late now.”
I glared at her and shouted, “Why don’t you fuck off, lady?” I knew I was putting my job in jeopardy, but I didn’t care at this point. “Can’t you see the young lady is upset? You fuckers just cut off all her hair against her wishes and you don’t even give a Goddamn about her feelings! She’s in no condition to be photographed now.”
“Well if she can’t handle a little haircut,” Glenda huffed, “then that’s just tough, young man! She’s got five minutes to get out here or she’s fired!”
Chloe abruptly broke our embrace and shouted, “I’m not working for you anymore! I quit, you ugly bitch!”
“Fine, get the hell out of here!” Glenda retorted as she waddled back down the hall, nearly trampling Jose along the way.
Jose overheard the entire exchange, and he said to Chloe, “Honey, I’m very sorry this happened to you in my studio. If it will make you feel any better, I will no longer work with this modeling agency after today. I’m fed up with them.”
“Thank you,” Chloe sniffed. “I just want to go home now.”
Jose then looked at me and said, “Eric, why don’t you take the young lady home? I can handle things here the rest of the day.”
“Sure, man,” I replied. “Would you like a ride home, Chloe?”
“Yes, I’d appreciate that,” she said, “I can’t ride back with those people now. Thank you both–you’re both so kind.”
I led Chloe back out to the studio where she rounded up her purse and belongings. I couldn’t believe how uncaring and unfeeling the other models were toward Chloe. Not a one of them even bothered to offer any sympathy to her, and they all just callously went on about their business as if nothing had happened.
We were about set to leave when Chloe suddenly walked directly over to Glenda, as if she were going to attack her. Chloe reached up as if to slap Glenda, but instead she grabbed at Glenda’s hair, which it turns out was really a wig, and snatched it right off her head!
“I’ll send this back when I get my own wig, bitch!” Chloe announced, as she placed the shoulder-length red wig on her own head. Glenda just stood there dumbfounded wearing a brown stocking cap over her natural hair, which was a mousy mix of brown and gray. Jose alertly began snapping photos of Glenda in her disheveled state, and I chuckled mightily as I escorted Chloe to my car.
Chloe gave me directions to her apartment. On the way she hardly said a word, and continued to cry over the loss of her hair. Her world was shattered, and her dream of being a fashion model had suddenly become a nightmare. This was, to say the least, a cruel introduction to the modeling industry. As we arrived at her apartment complex, I walked Chloe to her door.
“You’ve been so sweet to me, Eric,” she said. “Thanks for everything.”
“Are you going to be alright?” I asked. Chloe tried to muster a smile for me, but she couldn’t fight the tears, and she said, “I don’t know. Could you come inside for a few minutes?”
“Sure, Chloe. Of course I can.”
She unlocked her door and we entered her small studio apartment. Once inside, Chloe, still clad in her robe, removed Glenda’s wig and looked in the mirror over her sofa and burst into tears again. I took her in my arms and tried to comfort her
“What am I going to do without my hair?” Chloe sobbed. “What will my friends say when they see this? I feel so violated.”
I tried to give her some words of encouragement, but was unable to say the magic words to make it all better for her. I held Chloe in my arms and gently stroked her buzzed scalp, and she began to calm down. After a few minutes, Chloe said, “It feels good when you do that.”
“Do what?” I said.
“When you touch my head like that,” said Chloe. “It kinda tickles, and it feels neat.”
I continued to stroke her scalp, and I could feel our embrace become more sensual. Chloe began to squirm and sigh as I ran my hands over her head, and she become more and more aroused. Her sighs soon became moans of delight, and Chloe said, “This feels so good, Eric!” and she placed her own hands on her head and stroked her scalp.
Chloe was now smiling for the first time since her haircut, and I couldn’t believe the change that overcame her. Now that she was smiling, she also looked much prettier– strangely beautiful now. I couldn’t resist the temptation, and I pulled Chloe to me and kissed her. She quickly threw her arms around me and we locked lips in a very passionate kiss. Chloe led me over to the sofa and removed her robe and stood before me wearing a lacy black bra and smoky black pantyhose. I was stunned that everything was happening so fast, but I couldn’t resist as Chloe pulled the cushions off her sofa and pulled out the rollaway bed. Next thing I knew, we were entangled under the sheets and it was pure heaven. I ended up spending the night at Chloe’s.
Over the next few days, Chloe and I spent a lot of time together. I accompanied her when she went wig shopping, and selected two pretty brown ones–one that resembled her previous hairstyle, and another with shoulder-length curls. Chloe sent Glenda’s red wig back to her in a plain brown wrapper. Meanwhile, we got to know each better, and the more time I spent with Chloe, the more in love I became with her. She wasn’t just a beauty on the outside–she was the real deal on the inside too. We made love every night, and Chloe seemed to be adapting to her new hairstyle as well.
The following Monday, Chloe called me at the studio with the exciting news that she’d landed a job with another modeling agency. “These people are much nicer, and they’re paying me more money, too!” she exclaimed over the phone. “I have a little surprise for you, too, so come over as soon as you can tonight.”
I headed for Chloe’s place right after work, and she greeted me at the door wearing her new curly brown wig. She treated me to dinner by candlelight, and seemed very giddy about something. “So what’s this big surprise you have for me?” I inquired.
“Well,” Chloe smiled, “Remember when I said that my new employer is paying me more? Well, when I showed my new boss what the other agency did to my hair, he got really excited and said that I was just the type of model he was searchng for, and he said he would pay me some extra money to do this…” Chloe then reached up and slowly took her wig off, to reveal that she was now totally bald! “He was looking for a bald model, so he paid me an extra $500 to shave my head! Now I’m really bald! What do you think, Eric?”
I was shocked that Chloe did this, but I was also aroused by the sight of her hairless scalp. “Incredible!” I said, “Chloe, you’re gorgeous! I can’t believe you did this!”
“Come here and feel my scalp, honey,” she cooed. I obliged, and her head was as soft and smooth as the satin blouse Chloe was wearing. It didn’t take us long to find our way to the rollaway bed…
Chloe’s bald look helped her career immensely, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off her when we were together. She even started venturing out in public without a wig on, and I felt proud to be seen with Chloe. Chloe and I were married a year later, and she has remained bald to this day. She made lots of money as a model, and invested it wisely and was able to retire before she even turned 30, all thanks to an unauthorized haircut. How lucky can you get?