Once Upon a Lurker

Once Upon a Lurker

Once Upon a Lurker by BuzMeTendr

Often times the hour was late, or should I say early morning, when I would sit at my trusty computer and browse – or lurk as the term online is called – in the Short Hair Enthusiast room. Soon, the chats began, casual at first. Talks of various styles, trying pinpoint when the urges and intrigue began with short haircuts.. then it would turn to utter dismay – and for some total disbelief that I, as a female, had not cut my hair at all in my life until I was 26 years old! Here I was, in the beginning, 36 years old and still trying to get up enough nerve to give in to my secret passion. The chats were pushing me in that direction.

Sooner than I expected, I began “nipping” at my hair myself, taking it from near butt length to just below shoulders. With every snip, I could feel the desire grow. But, as a very conservative person, living in a rural and most conservative Christian environment, I felt torn between what was expected of me, my own personal vanity, and this ever-increasing desire!

The chat content changed. Now, it was “cybercuts” that pulled at me. Almost drew me to the computer. That “I have to cut some hair” feeling ruled! Again, I went deeper into the desire; sitting in front of the computer, in chat, in a cyber chair. I’d pick up my scissors, and chop off more hair… taking my bangs to an above-eyebrow length… the back to a blunt bob just above shoulder level. Then, the next day, when meeting friends, give an acceptable explanation for the sudden change.

I was under the control of the desire now. The cyber chats weren’t enough. I began doing “phone cuts”. I’ll never forget the 2 a.m. clipper undercut I gave myself as my phone mate gave details as if HE were the barber… the hair falling to my bare breasts, shoulders and slipping down my back! I was hooked!

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My visits to the many wonderful hair sites on the web were the final push. When combining the view of so many women being shorn, picturing myself as the one in the chair, the recalled chats in my mind, I decided it was time to get it cut good. Well, for me, that meant letting a professional do it. Make a marked difference in style and length.

I made the call. We looked through magazines. I came out with fresh blond highlights, a chin length, layered bob. I felt liberated. Yes, I realized it was not what the Hair Fetishist called short, but for me, it was a HUGE step in the fulfillment of my desires. All the while, nobody suspected (except my online cyber pals) that this was much more than “needing a new look” or “convenience factors”.

Time passed, much the same: cyber cuts, phone chats, viewing pics, reading (and even writing – for my some favored online pals) stories of haircuts. I had gotten to the place where I wanted to increase the anticipation, thrill. No way would I let this desire become mundane and routine (as many of the stories were getting to be as well as the chats). I called a new stylist. When asked “what are we doing today?” I simply said, “Whatever you think best, I do like the convenience of it being short in back.” She complied… moderately at first. Taking the bob cut down to a smart, cute tapered cut, she quickly clipper shaved the nape… my heart nearly stopping! “Let’s see how you do with this cut and we can go from there next visit.” I left with a 1/4″ scissored tapered back, blending up to a 2 /12″ – 3″ layered top and bangs just to brows, tiny sideburns. It satisfied… for the time being!

Winter set in, I was snowed in for days, then iced in, then worked long hours. Soon I realized it had been 6 weeks since I’d been to the salon. I made an appointment. It was to be the next day, for which I was more than ready. Upon arriving, I somehow knew that whatever the stylist decided, I’d not protest! First, the highlights, then the shampooing, then the haircutting….. it went like this:

First the highlights, placing that plastic cap over my head (I’d not had this method before) gave me a good look at how I’d look with little or no hair (not good -LOL), but the highlights turned out great… nice pretty blond (again). Then came the haircut… she asked first how I liked the last cut and got along with it. I told her I liked it a lot… the shorter back was much easier to care for! So she began, scissoring the bulk off… clumps of now blonder hair fell to the cape. She cut through the back, sides and top, then the bangs. Next, she pulled out the thinning shears and worked over the back, a bit on the sides, then sporadically through the top. The hair on the cape was piling up now. I didn’t realize I had so much to yet come off! (Gee, it had only been 6 weeks or so!) After the thinning shears she snipped a bit more with the scissors at the back, then began to blow dry. At this point I figured she wasn’t going to use clippers, but I knew she had thinned and tapered a lot at the back already. But she soon spoke up.

“This in the back is just not looking like I want it to with the scissors. I think last time I edged some with clippers, this time I’m going to clipper the back rather than do more scissor taper.” It was a statement, not a question. “Head down, now,” were the next words, and POP! – the big black clippers came to life.

My mind was reeling! I couldn’t believe it was actually happening! And it was! She took the clippers up to the occipital bone! Then up to just behind the ears on both sides! Over and over it seemed, she took her time in shearing the back. Then she did a bit more with clippers over comb, then the tiny clippers… she shaved the neck and did some edging. All the while I was thinking, am I dreaming or is it really happening?

After the clippers were turned off, she grabbed the thinning shears again and made a few select snips. The hair wafted again to the cape. “Raise your arms,” she spoke. I did, and she shook the pile of hair to the floor then picked up the regular scissors and cut a straight line from top of my ears around the occipital bone, combing and clipping to make a blunt line. She snipped a few more times around the top and sides.

“There ya go.” She handed me the mirror.

It was awesome! I was stunned, and pleased! The gentleman in the seat next to mine (he came in as she was rinsing out my highlights) stopped and looked as the gal doing his hair commented on how great my hair turned out. I know I blushed, and was wondering if he had a hair fetish.

I left the shop, what a rush! (Those next few details will remain private.) Now I sit, sharing the experience, still lurking, pondering, dreaming of that one day when I’ll go to the ultimate… totally shorn! I want that, at least once in my life, and being now 40 years old, I’m sure hoping it’s sooner rather than later. However, I will save that ultimate experience to share when I find the love of my life. Until then… I lurk 🙂

———————————————————————Only the beginning——— 🙂


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