No-one Will Know

No-one Will Know

No-one will know – Cliptomaniac

After two months Jasmine and I were really getting used to life looking after my cousin’s log cabin in Canada. He’d decided it was time to see a bit of the world and had set off on a six month excursion leaving us to take care of business in his remote home in the forests of Manitoba. We jumped at the chance, perhaps not realising some of the hardships involved, but after about a month of learning to fish, chop wood and avoid grizzlies, with a few arguments on the way, we realised we’d made a good move.

The cabin was situated near Lake Winnipeg and was over twenty miles from the nearest town. No-one ever visited save for the weekly supply truck (which mainly brought supplies of beer!), we felt amazingly isolated, though we had a phone line and electricity, but most of the time we made our own entertainment. In the summer we would go for long walks, play games round the fire in the evening and of course, enjoy each other’s intimacy without anyone seeing.

Perhaps that was the best thing about the solitude. We would often swim and bathe naked in the lake (it was still summer when we got there) and Jasmine would wash her beautiful chestnut hair (or let me wash it) every day in the clear waters, perhaps more often. In fact whenever she joked about my beer consumption, I would counter that she’d probably taken up the entire shampoo ration for the local area and that everyone in the nearest town would be walking round with dirty hair! I’d shaved my head virtually the second week we got there. I wasn’t prepared to travel over twenty miles to the nearest barber and I doubt the barber would’ve come to me, so I was mighty glad that I just about remembered to pack the electric clippers on the night before we set out. Jasmine loved the look and said that I ought to keep it when we got home to civilisation, though I wasn’t so sure.

Well, we’d been going strong a few months but by now, the Autumn was closing in. It was late September, the leaves were turning brown (on the deciduous trees anyway) and the temperatures were definitely taking a turn for the colder. One day dawned a little warmer than usual, so I thought it would be our last chance to skinny-dip in the lake.

“But I’ll freeze my tits off!” giggled Jasmine as we neared the water.

“Then I’ll glue them back on! Come on, it’s our last chance!”

Jasmine seemed quite reluctant as we peeled off our heavy jumpers, and walking boots but seemed quite giggly by the time she was down to her underwear. As if to make things worse for her, I grabbed her by the ribs and tickled her slim abdomen as she took off her bra and knickers.

I was first in the water. “Come on, it’s not that cold!” Jasmine stood at the shore, a slight, beautiful but pathetic figure, her arms round her shivering breasts.

“Come on, don’t be a baby!” I mocked. Jasmine took a deep breath and waded in. She came straight towards me, shivering like hell. I caressed her petite figure, held her close and buried my face in her mass of sunlit hair as I rubbed her up and down. After three minutes she stammered “that’s better” and gave me one of those naughty looks with her big brown eyes. “Do you want me to shampoo you first?” I enquired, reaching for the bottle still on the shore. She giggled. The shampoo was getting to be a standing joke as she’d already washed her hair that morning. “The supply truck’s coming tomorrow isn’t it?” I went on, opening the bottle.

“Yes.”

“Oh well, we might as well use this lot up then!” I laughed, pouring a huge dollop of shampoo into my hand and then proceeding to smear it over Jasmine’s pert breasts. She giggled as it foamed around her nipples and I massaged it in.

“Oh well, still quarter of a bottle left for your hair!” With that I emptied the contents onto Jasmine’s wet hair and massaged the copious foam into her scalp as we kissed.

I must admit I was getting pretty aroused by this, so thought I’d better get a move on with washing her hair. I ran my fingers through her long tresses to release any of the excess foam, then plastered the rest of Jasmine’s hair close to her head. With her hair slicked back in this way Jasmine’s pixie features seemed all the more animated. Her little ears, her button nose and of course those eyes. She could be bald for all I cared and she’d still be beautiful. Mind you, I loved that hair so much.

The sex that followed was great and we stood at the shore for ages just towelling each other dry, at one point just locked in the same embrace under the towel for two minutes. We dressed and made our way back to the cabin hand in hand. The sun caught on Jasmine’s drying locks, which seemed to have gone a shade more auburny in the summer. I remarked about how her hair was the colour of the beautiful autumn leaves. She stuck her fingers in her throat at the sickliness of that remark. But it was true.

Well, that was a day I remember that was particularly good. Perhaps I remember it more for the fact that the next day was so bad.

We got up, wondering if we could enjoy ourselves any more on this “holiday” but with the realisation that winter was around the corner and there was a lot of work to be done. I was out making sure to get some wood chopped before the snows came, when I heard the throaty engine of the supply truck nearby.

“Great!’ I thought. We always got a bit anxious waiting for that to come. I walked to the front to meet Chris, our lifeline to the world.

“Bit of bad news, I’m afraid, Ray.”

“Yeah, what?”

“No shampoo and no beer. That jerk David forgot to pack it. I only realised when I was about a mile from here.”

“Well, at least the food’s here. That’s the important thing.” I tried to contain my disappointment about there being no beer. “When can you get the rest here?”

“Well, as it’s non-essential items, we can’t get it here till next week. Otherwise it’s fifty dollars for the call-out.”

“Yeah alright, leave it then,” I said, subdued.

I took in the food supplies and then went to chop wood with more vigour than ever before. No beer for a week – “Fuck that!” I cried as the axe came down. Well, I suppose we were lucky to get the food but by now we were skilled enough at fishing to catch our own. I came back in the cabin only half exorcised by my assault on the logs. Jasmine was there and not in a good mood either. “What’s up, Jaz?”

“I think you know what’s up?”

“Oh yes of course I’m psychic, (I was in a sarcastic mood), now, let me consult the heavens…”

“Did you bring in those fish you caught last night?”

“Oh shit.”

“Well they’ve only been stolen by a fucking bear that’s all! You were pissed again weren’t you? I mean, why don’t you just invite the grizzlies in for a teddy bear’s picnic.” It suddenly occurred to me that this was Jasmine’s time of the month, when every crisis tended to become a drama. I tried to calm her.

“Oh come on Jasmine, you know we both got pissed last night. We had a good time remember, or perhaps you’ve already forgotten. Anyway, after tonight you won’t have to worry about me getting pissed because they haven’t delivered any more beer.”

“Thank God for that!”

“Or shampoo.”

“What?”

“They forgot the shampoo as well.”

“Oh great. Thanks to you, I can’t wash my hair next week!”

“We were having fun. Remember that? Fun?”

“You didn’t have to use the whole bottle. Thanks to you I’m going to spend next week with hair like a hippy.”

“Then do what I did!” I suddenly got really annoyed by her negativity. “Shave it all off!”

Jasmine looked at me madly and then proceeded to mock my romantic pronouncement of yesterday in a really stupid voice:

“Oh Jasmine, your hair is so beautiful, like the colours of the Autumn leaves.”

“Yeah!” I replied. “And they’ve got to come off as well.”

It just sounded like a clever thing to say, but I hardly believed I said it. Jasmine backed away, incredulous that I wasn’t actually joking about her shaving off her hair. “You’re sick,” she just said and then retired to the bedroom with much slamming of doors.

I was in shock. Fortunately there was still some beer left in the fridge and I used it to calm me. It wouldn’t last the week so what the heck? A week without beer would do me good so I’d make the most of what I had now. I sat drinking beer and watching the telly most of the evening but most of all I thought, why did I say that? I also thought about the time that I plastered Jasmine’s hair back in the lake and how I thought she’d look great bald. Something stirred in me – I don’t know what. It would be sad if Jasmine were to lose something as beautiful as her hair, yet somehow the thought of it coming off was thrilling – and the thought of seeing her bald.… God, what was I thinking? Why was this turning me on? Arghh!

I went to bed early, numbed by alcohol but somehow twisted up inside with this strange new obsession. Jasmine was already asleep and judging by the smudging round her eyes and on the pillow she’d cried herself to sleep. I made sure to gargle before joining her lest she smelt the beer on me. I climbed in by her side and let my right arm gently encircle her. There was a small sigh. I then started to stroke the beautiful hair that I dreamt of shaving before myself falling asleep.

Next week passed fairly well, though nothing more was mentioned of the argument. I realised I could survive without beer and Jasmine used washing-up liquid to wash her hair. It smelt strange, but looked fine. Also, the snows arrived so we preferred to take out our tension with snowball fights. Sure enough, the van turned up next week, with a plentiful supply of food, beer and of course shampoo. The first thing Jasmine did was to rush to the shower with the bottle of sweet-smelling Pantene while I happily contemplated a good evening’s boozing.

That evening we both had a good drink. We watched some telly. We played cards and bet small amounts of money and chores before snuggling on the sofa. I kissed and stroked Jasmine’s hair again, telling her it smelt beautiful.

“If you love it so much why do you want me to shave it off?” she said.

“I was joking.”

“Oh come on, I’m not stupid!”

“Ohhhh. I don’t know. The thought of it sort of turned me on. But I care about you. I’d never do that to you, my sweetheart.”

Suddenly Jasmine turned to me. “Do you think I’d look alright bald?”

“Yeah. I don’t just love you for your hair. You’d look great, but as I said, I wouldn’t do that to your lovely hair. I love you.” I took her hand.

“I was just thinking,” she went on, “we’re here for another three months. No-one will see me except you and in three months time my hair will have grown into a short crop. I’ll look alright.”

I wondered how much the beer was affecting her. She went on:

“I mean, if I’m ever going to do something crazy like that, I might as well do it now.” She giggled.

“No, Jasmine.” My heart was filled with a kind of despair mixed with excitement. “Wait till you’re sober and think about it tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to. I want to do it.”

“Tell you what. We’ll take a bet on a game of cards. No, we’re too pissed to play cards. On a coin. Heads – you have to shave your head, tails…?”

“You have to go skinny dipping in the freezing lake.” She collapsed into giggles. The lake was already half frozen over, but I couldn’t care less at this moment in time. I took out a coin and span it into the air with my thumb, caught it and slapped it on my wrist.

“Tails you get a cold willy!” laughed Jasmine.

I lifted my hand. It was heads. Jasmine looked at me very seriously as if she’d suddenly sobered up from the five cans of beer she’d drunk. “You wouldn’t really shave my head, would you?” she smiled at me, thinking I wouldn’t do it.

“We’ll see tomorrow,” I smiled. Jasmine smiled back. We went to bed.

The next day went fine, but Jasmine was pretty quiet and last night wasn’t mentioned. At the end of the day I’d done my chores and Jasmine went to shower and wash her hair. I took this opportunity to set up a chair in the living room, complete with an old towel to use as a cape. I plugged in the clippers and had my razor and shaving foam ready. When I heard the sound of the hairdryer in the bedroom I went to join Jasmine. She was sitting in just her dressing gown and her blow-dried hair was looking more beautiful than ever.

“Don’t get dressed yet,” I said when she’d finished drying. “Come in the living room, there’s something funny on the telly.” She followed me wordlessly. I flung the living room door open to reveal the chair in the middle of the room with the clippers and razor on a small table next to it and the television off. It took a few seconds to register then she turned to me pleading, her eyes glazed with terror.

“You realise I was joking,” she stammered.

“Were you?”

“Look I was drunk. I say things like that when I’m drunk. And you said you loved me too much to do it”

“But you took a bet.”

“I was drunk for fuck’s sake!”

“Jasmine, if I’d lost that bet, you’d have insisted that I went skinny dipping in the lake.” Jasmine seemed to flail around in her mind for counter attacks. She couldn’t find any.

“But you’re not really going to shave my head are you? Look, please stop joking because it’s not funny.”

“Jasmine, no-one else will know just how short I cut your hair and I will still love you.” Tears welled up in her eyes. I continued: “Tell you what, we’ll do a deal. Tomorrow afternoon I go skinny dipping in that lake if you just be brave for me now. Okay?”

Jasmine just nodded and trudged to the seat. “Do you want me naked?” she whimpered.

“That’s alright, we’ll leave that till afterwards. Now just hold up your hair whilst I fasten this round your neck.” Jasmine was barely able to touch her hair, knowing very soon it would be gone. When I’d fastened the towel, I picked up the brush and slowly, very gently brushed out her beautiful, sweet smelling locks. The dim light just caught them perfectly.

“Oh please get on with it!” sobbed Jasmine.

“OK.” I bent down and kissed the top of her head, gently stroking hair out of the way as I reached for the clippers. They came on with a high pitched sound that sounded like a plane accelerating for take-off. I stroked a loose strand of hair from her forehead and looked lovingly into her big wet eyes.

“Are you ready sweetheart?”

“Go on then.” Jasmine’s eyes closed.

I held the clippers to her right temple and slowly ran them along a path just above her ear. Even at this stage I felt I might not want to shave the lot so I didn’t go straight down the middle. With mounting excitement I made a couple of more passes on the right side of her head and saw the harsh dark stubble emerging on her sun shielded scalp. Jasmine had opened her eyes now but was blinking incessantly and very silent. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her bare toes, clenched in fear, peeping out from the dressing gown.

I cleaned up around the back of the right ear, which was especially sensual as it was a place I often loved kissing. She seemed to react as I placed the clippers there and shaved it bald. As soon as I saw the shape of her head emerging it confirmed to me that she’d look beautiful bald and I started ploughing through her hair with more vigour.

I wasn’t quite ready to go straight down the middle.. I had another idea. By now about a third of Jasmine’s head was shaved. I popped off the clippers. In the ensuing silence I could hear her tiny sobs.

“Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine.” I instinctively kissed and then stroked the shaved patch. She put her own hand up, felt it, took a deep breath then composed herself.

“Okay sweetheart, just lean your head forward now.” I went on. She obeyed me wordlessly. “A bit further. That’s better.” I pushed her remaining hair on top of her head with my right hand so that her slim nape was exposed to me. I then ran the clippers up her nape, further and further. It was a little tricky but I managed to get them right over her head. A huge skein of Jasmine’s beautiful hair landed on her lap, right before her eyes, then again, then again. I could now hear her sobs above the clippers. My poor beautiful Jasmine, but hell I was enjoying it.

I walked round the front to inspect the two-thirds completed task and took the time to stroke her face and touch her hand. I then made short work of the hair above her left ear before gently cleaning up and popping the clippers off.

I looked all the way round Jasmine’s shorn skull. It was beautiful in a way totally different to the hair that had just come off it. I noted she also had a cute little mole above one of her ears.

“Can I look now?”

“You can feel, but you can’t look yet,” I said, shaking the can of shaving foam.

As I prepared the razor I could see Jasmine, still wide-eyed, still staring at the hair in her lap, stroking her stubbled scalp. “You look beautiful, Jasmine,” I told her, before planting a kiss on her head.

“Glad you’re satisfied,” she whimpered back.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Now this might feel a little cold.”

“Not as cold as your willy tomorrow, mate!”

As the clippers had been noisy, the final shaving gave me more chance to talk to Jasmine. She actually giggled at times, saying the razor was a strange feeling and that she got a shiver down her spine when I did that bit behind her ear.

“Not such a bad feeling after all is it?”

“As long as you don’t cut me you bastard!”

“Oh Jasmine, how could I do such a thing?” I kissed the part that I’d finished. It was totally smooth. Bliss! Where once there had been a mass of beautiful tresses, now just a landscape of cold, barren but tender skin.

“Can’t that wait till you’re finished!” she giggled.

“Alright.” I finished the shaving then ran another towel over her totally smooth dome.

“Oh Jasmine, you’re so beautiful. Go on, have a feel.”

Jasmine felt her head with the most strange look on her face. In the end she smiled a beautiful smile. “I can’t believe I let you do this.”

“You’ll certainly remember it. Now, up you get darling.”

Jasmine got up and I took her straight into my arms. I wanted to hug her and kiss her beautiful scalp, but first she had to see it for herself. There was a full length mirror in the hallway. As I let Jasmine go I unfastened her dressing gown and let it fall to the floor. I then took her by the hand and said “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Close your eyes then.”

I led her to the mirror. “Open them now. There, that’s the real you, Jasmine.”

In front of Jasmine stood the reflection of the most beautiful woman in the world, exposed. Not just naked but bald. She stared at it for a while turning her head to the side to see the outline of her scalp. I could see her eyes were again pricked with tears.

“I might just get used to it,” she choked.

“You will, sweetheart, you will. You’re more beautiful than ever and I mean that.” I gave her more comforting hugs and reassurance. We then cleared up the hair in the living room, putting it in a box for us both to keep, before adjourning to the bedroom for an early night. I often massaged Jasmine before sex and this time it was sheer bliss rubbing baby oil into her scalp and gently rubbing it in until she moaned. Sex itself was more meaningful than ever, totally different to when she had hair. “You know, I might get to like this,” she said.

The next morning she seemed a little sad again. She would constantly look pensively at mirrors and often into the little box containing her hair. She perked up when she realised it was payback time. I did my skinny-dip and she had a laugh at my expense, even threatening to nick my clothes. Afterwards I whipped off her bobble hat and rubbed snow on her scalp making her scream with laughter.

The months passed and her hair grew and we generally felt happy and proud of the way we’d looked after the place so well. As the time we were to return home grew nearer, the weather got extremely cold and Jasmine was glad that her little mop of hair added some protection. Then my cousin John came back, happy to find the place still in one piece and having had the experience of a lifetime. Our bags were already packed and I wish we’d had longer to talk but he commented on Jasmine’s pixie crop. She just said it had been more practical that way and that she’d grow it again.

“Well perhaps your hair will be fairly long again this time next year,” he said. “‘Cos I’m going to do exactly the same thing all over again and if you’re willing….”

“Shall we do the same thing again next year?” I asked Jasmine.

“Why not?” she grinned cheekily.

THE END

Isn’t it lovely when your girlfriend says those three little words to you? – Shave my head!

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