Savouring the Moment – Cheshire Cate
I held the clippers in my hand. I flicked them on to test them – they worked, just like I knew they would. Julia lay on the bed, sleeping, her hair fell about her face, flowing onto the pillow. I could see her red hair, as she was illuminated by a shaft of light that shone through the open door. Her sleep was deep, she barely stirred at the faint hum of the clippers. Would she awaken when the noise increased, when the blades of the clippers touched her head, and danced over her scalp? I wondered if her sleep was deep enough, if she had drunk enough not to stir, or at least if she did not really remember what happened?
I moved towards her and sat on the bed. No reaction from Julia, her breathing was deep. I took the guard from the clippers, there was nothing to separate the teeth of the clippers from whatever came up against them. I knew that the clippers would win the fight with Julia’s soft ginger hair. My excitement rose as I moved the clippers towards her resting body. My thumb pressed the switch and the clippers were ready. I moved them to her head.
The first pass took off a strip of hair over her ear, the shorn hair fell away as the blades advanced and slipped away to collect in a pile on her pillow. This first clipping only removed a 4 inch strip of her hair. I quickly moved the clippers to the front of her head again, overlapping the shaved area with the longer hair above this naked strip. Again, quicker this time, I forced the clippers towards the back of her head. The pile on the pillow grew as the shorn area on the side of her head increased. Another pass, one more and the side of her head would be shaved. Some hair fell over her face. Surely it tickled her, would she wake up? I attacked her hair for the fourth time, this time the clippers only cut at half their width, only an inch of hair remained at the sides of her head. Soon I had shaved the side of her head, where once there was soft, gingery hair, there was nothing but a slight ginger stubble, and the skin of her head was strikingly visible, as she had such pale skin that had been shielded from the world by her hair.
Excitement drove me on. I started to remove the hair from the top of her head, the clippers struggled to cut their way through her crowning glory. Julie had gone to bed with what was a sexy chin length bob, slowly I was transforming this into a closely shaved head, and I felt so powerful as I wielded the clippers. The more I shaved, the more of her head was revealed. I was surprised that she did not wake up, the fear that she would do made me all the more excited. If she were to wake up as I shaved her bald what would she think? How would she feel? With each of her faint murmurs I stopped moving the clippers, they kept buzzing, poised above her hair, eager to resume their task.
I shaved the top of Julie’s head from her hairline to her crown, again these were quite short strokes. The hair fell away, forming small clumps all around her increasingly shaved head. I had soon shaved away all the hair on her head that I was able to. She still slept, with hair only on the back of her head, and the left-hand side of the head, which was buried in the pillow. I stopped the clippers and took time to take in the sight before me. There was my housemate, asleep, half bald. I looked at the clippers in my hand. Small strands of Julie’s hair were caught in the clippers, my hand was dusted with small red and copper clippings that been freed from her head. I reached down to the pillow and grabbed the hair I had shaved away. I brought it to my face, I could smell the combination of her perfume, Cool Water and her shampoo. I took one of the longer strands and stroked my face with it. I looked back at Julie as she rolled over in her sleep, slowly more of her head was revealed to me, adorned with hair that needed to be clipped away. As she moved I saw stubble replaced with long hair, and I moved into position to continue shaving her.
I clipped the back of her head first, forcing the clippers from her hairline upwards. The long hair fell away as I neared her shaven crown. The clippers emerged triumphantly from the upward passage, and they seemed to surge as they passed into fresh air. Again I passed the clippers upwards, overlapping the previous path, again more hair fell away to increase the pile on her pillow. After the last pass up the back of her head I circled the clippers around to the side of her head, to shave what remained of Julie’s hair. The clippers remained as efficient as ever, and their job was soon done. They continued to buzz, but for now there was nothing left for them to cut. Julie had slept through the whole thing, I thought how funny it was that she had assisted her denuding by rolling over. She was now resting on her own hair. The hair that once flowed from her head was now a soft, gingery detached pillow.
I collected up as much of the shorn hair as possible and went back to my own room…
I closed the door quietly and stood with the remains of Julie’s hair in one hand and the clippers in the other. I placed the clippers down and jiggled my shoulders so that my robe fell away. Naked, I moved towards the mirror. I gripped firmly onto the hair I had shorn from my friend and gently stroked it over my skin. I trailed it down my arms, at the end of its path it tickled my wrists. I continued my sensuous dance, brushing Julie’s hair over every part of my naked body path. I used her hair to lightly brush my breasts, slowly I teased my nipples until the soft touch of her hair caused them to stiffen with excitement. I finished my dance by rubbing her hair over my face. I looked at the reflection as her hair, a rainbow of differing red shades, contrasted with my own fair hair. The lengths I had cut from her hair were longer than my own, which I had had styled into pixie cut, that was by now in need of a cut of its own. I entwined her hair with my own, before releasing my grip. Her hair slipped through my fingers, and continued its dance as it fell to the floor.
Her hair gathered around my feet, and I stood, reflecting on the transformation I had given to an unknowing Julie. I was excited by what I had done and I wondered what she would think when she woke and saw herself for the first time with a newly shorn head. How would she react, what would she say? And think? I allowed myself a wicked smile when I thought of the look on her face when she rushed in to see me. I carefully studied myself in the mirror, my blonde hair had trapped some of Julie’s hair, the rest encircled my feet, and as I moved the soft gingery carpet warmed my feet. I played with my own hair as I thought about my next move. I ran my hands up my nape, shuddering at the touch of my fingertips on my nape. I twisted my hair between index finger and thumb, as I ruffled my hair it became spiky and my reflection smiled at me. My reflection moved, an unseen arm picked up the clippers. The face that was now reflected to me was different, the smile was gone, replaced with a look of nervousness and anticipation, a mask to the excitement I was feeling within. Although not shown in my face, there was other evidence to betray my arousal, which became heightened as I switched on the clippers.
The clippers whirred as if they were pleased to be called into action again. They were exactly as they had been when I had shaved the last of Julie’s hair away: there were the small clippings of her hair between the teeth of the blades, and I paused for a moment to study the motion of the teeth as they danced back and forward. I marvelled at the power they possessed and the changes they caused as they met, separated and met again. The vibrations of the clippers caused these clippings to dance along the blades, in contrast to the longer, motionless lengths at my feet.
I stopped focusing on the clippers and looked at the girl in the mirror for one last time. She stood still, gazing intently as the hand with the clippers in moved upwards. My eyes opened wide as I felt the clippers touch my hairline. My view of my reflection on was blocked as my hand moved backwards, but I saw blonde hair fall away to the floor and I knew my mouth opened as I let out a surprised sigh. Once this first pass was complete I was able to see myself again. My shoulders were dusted with blonde hair, the origin of this hair was marked by the two-inch furrow in the middle of my head. I felt this shorn part of my head and I was amazed by its smoothness. I decided to leave the top of my head for now, here my hair was at its longest and I was keen to savour the moment – to remember the feelings of anticipation and then elation as I clipped my hair away. I moved the clippers to the side of my head , and quickly began pushing them backwards over my ear. More blonde hair fell away, some falling quickly, other strands taking a more leisurely journey to the floor. Four passes had the left-hand side of my head reduced to a fine stubble. Given the distance I was from the mirror and the colour and texture of my hair it looked as if I had no hair at all. The presence of the hair could only be confirmed by touch, and to stroke my shaved side of my head was to feel velvet.
Had I not been caught up and by my excitement I might have realised how ridiculous I looked, with half a haircut, but the constant, hungry buzz of the clippers spurred me on. I transferred the clippers to my right hand, blowing my hair away from the teeth of the clippers as they passed my lips. Golden clippings twinkled as they were sent airborne.
The clippers mowed a path through my hair with much greater ease than they had with Julie’s, my blonde hair was much lighter in weight than hers and soon I had reduced the right-hand side of my head to stubble. I put the clippers down for a moment and with both hands I felt where I had passed the clippers, where now the merest stubble remained. It prickled as I ran my hands forward but the feeling was so different when I stoked my hands backwards from my face. Taking my time I studied my reflection. The hair shorn away from the sides served to emphasise the hair that remained on top. I sported what appeared to be two Mohicans, there were twin strips of my blonde hair running from my forehead to my crown, where they then joined to become one mass again. It was this mass I tackled next. I had to manoeuvre the clippers into position and I actually reversed the clippers to do the cutting. I was unable to shave my hair away in a series of easy passes. As my movements were restricted the hair came away unevenly and in clumps. It was not until I changed my method and shaved downwards from my crown to my nape that I was able to achieve a satisfactory, smooth result.
Looking at my reflection I twirled before the mirror. All around my head was closely shorn to the scalp, so close that I appeared to be bald and devoid of hair. As sight was so deceptive it was only by going close to the mirror or by feeling that you could tell I still had some hair, as short and as stubbly as it was. I stayed close to the mirror for the finale to my shaving. I lovingly stoked what remained of my crop, the only length in my hair being confined to these two strips of hair that grew from my clippered head.
I worked on the right strip first, the first pass of the clippers reducing what remained to a few strands wide, which were easily finished off and sent to join their friends on the floor. As I placed the clippers at the front of the left hand strip I smiled, as the clippers moved further back on my head my smile grew. As the teeth of the clippers whirred freely at my crown, my smile was wide. I stood, and as the remnants of my crop collected on the floor I took in my reflection, smiling and wide-eyed. The clippers had done their business and as I flicked the switch, the only sound in my bedroom was my own deep breathing. I sighed as I touched my head, encouraging my fingertips to explore every part of my shaved head. I enjoyed the feeling of touching every shorn hair on my head, having never before experienced such short hair I was so excited that I giggled. My reflection giggled back. For the first time I noticed how wide and expressive my eyes were. I slowly scanned my body from my feet, surrounded by my blonde and Julie’s ginger hair, my gaze moving upwards over my calves, taking in the curves of my hips, the swell of my breasts and finally to my shaved head.
My thoughts turned to Julie in the next room. Was she still asleep? When she awoke and discovered her clipping would her feelings be the same as I experienced now, excitement and satisfaction? Would she awaken and with disbelief, rush in to me, only to find that what had happened to her had happened to me? I smiled as I thought of all the possibilities and wondered what would happen next.
I tidied up my bedroom, removing all traces of my barbering activities, although it was now beyond possibility that I could ever disguise what had happened, as both Julie and myself had similar styles. I gathered up her hair, combined with my shorter blonde curls and stuffed them in a sports bag, along with the clippers, which although silent, I knew I would be using again soon. Hiding these away in my cupboard I got into bed and as I once again stoked my shorn, soft, fuzzy scalp I drifted off into my dreams to wait for morning, and Julie to awake.
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