Story No. 2

Story No 2

Story #2 by Cruzzer

My husband of fifteen years, Joe, has always wanted me to shave my head. My hair is longer, around shoulder length, and a medium, blondish brown. He wants to videotape me getting a complete head shave with a straight razor. To me, I have resisted getting shaved bald, because I have pretty hair, and my argument is that it would look horrible on me. But Joe seems to think he would love the look on me, and keeps pestering me to do it. I am somewhat insecure in our relationship, and after a while, I started to believe that it may be a sacrifice I must make to keep him, as he is always going on line to look at hair fetish websites. My biggest fear is that he may leave me for a more daring woman, who is into hair. Another thought I had is that maybe he will drop the subject once I go through with it, so it would be a one-time thing that may blow over. Shaving my head would not make a difference in my work, as I have my own dog grooming business, and don’t have to look a certain way to get clients or anything. Plus it’s May, and the weather is turning hotter, and it might be a relief from the relentless south Florida summer heat.

About a week before our anniversary, I announce to Joe that I feel I’m ready to go through with what he has in mind for me. Joe is ecstatic, and instantly hugs me, telling me that he knows just what to do next. He said he would make an appointment for us at the shop of Peter, one of his nearby online hair friends who happens to be a professional barber. Peter has his own barbershop, and he has a website that is dedicated to women’s head shaves. I met Peter at last fall’s Oktoberfest in the city, he is a very handsome man, with strong hands and shoulders. Maybe it won’t be so bad having him do the honors.

Joe came back from work that afternoon and let me know that we had a date for the haircut at 1:00 p.m. Sunday, at Peter’s shop. Peter’s barbershop is an old-fashioned men’s barbershop, with big chairs, a lot of mirrors, and a big barber pole outside. Great, I thought, my shaving is going to be on display to a lot of people. Now I am starting to get pretty scared about going through with it.

My husband has been incredibly doting and kind since I announced that I would go through with his desires. I think that maybe I have made the right choice, in that he is now so happy, it makes me happy too. But I keep thinking about the big day that is to come, and the embarrassment that I will be going through to explain my bald head.

Sunday morning rolls around and it’s the big day. I keep thinking what I will wear to this event. Should I put on a dress, or dress down in jeans and T-shirt. Joe thinks a summer dress and sandals would be fine, and it would show off the new look better on camera. So, I put on my cotton print summer dress and a pair of low heeled sandals, and we head out. I had washed and styled my hair as always, in a shoulder length pageboy.

We arrive at the shop and there are a few cars in the lot. Holding hands, we enter and Peter comes over to greet us, shaking hands with Joe, and giving me a small peck on the cheek. Peter reaches out and starts touching my hair and asks me if I am ready for this. I answer that I am, and he leads me up on to the platform, and sits me in the oversized barber’s chair. It smells like men’s shaving cream and cleaner in the shop. I can see an array of barber’s tools on the counter, combs, a brush, several electric clippers, and scissors. Peter has arranged to have the shaving taped, and a man with a camera is in the corner doing some adjustments to his equipment. Joe and Peter begin talking about how the haircut should be done, and discuss the cost. Peter will be paying us $200 to do the shearing on tape, to use on his website.

The cameraman starts shooting me, a scared pale woman in a big chair, in her spring dress with a full head of hair. I am eyeing the barber equipment on the counter. Peter comes over to me with Joe, Joe takes the barber chair right next to me. The big striped cape is swung around, and a piece of paper is wedged in as it’s pulled tight on my neck. Peter is looking good, I notice that he has some really bulging biceps, and a strong neck. Maybe this will be a fun experience, but by now, I am shaking in my sandals, and my palms are sweaty and cold.

Peter picks up my thick hair and pulls it into a tight ponytail in back. He puts on a rubber band or two and his biggest scissors. Joe is beaming in his chair, and gives me a look in the mirror that says, thank you. I close my eyes and bend my head down, and Peter begins sawing at the pony. It is really happening, and I am on my way to being shorn bald. The pony is freed, and Peter gives it to my husband. My hair swings free, a lot shorter than it was a few minutes ago. Then, Peter kicks up the chair to a higher level. He and I catch eyes and smile. I am admiring his tight T-shirt over strong chest.

I guess Peter and Joe had talked about the best way to go about my shearing. Peter picks up the biggest pair of clippers, and puts on a small attachment. He says this will leave the hair about a half inch long, and we will gradually go shorter in three stages. Now I am about to cry, because the next step is such a big one. Joe reaches over and holds my hand under the cape. Peter flicks on the clippers, and they start buzzing and humming. A small tear escapes and rolls down my cheek. The clippers are positioned at my forehead, under my bangs, and without mercy Peter pulls them back, clearing a path of stubble along my part. Waves and sheaves of long hair fall to the floor. Another pass, and another, and the top of my head is now a patch of burrs. I can see the results in the mirror. Then the machine is put in front of my ear, and pulled upward, sending cascades of 12″ hair down my cape. Over and over the clippers shave up and up, along the sides of my head, denuding the scalp. In back, they buzz over the long hair, and my head feels a lot lighter.

Peter finished the first stage with me, and I can see in the mirror my ears and hairline. Joe feels the soft bristles and I also reach up and feel them. It’s so soft. Then, Peter goes to another clipper, it’s silver and small, and makes a high whining buzz. Peter puts it right in the center of my forehead and draws it back over and over, leaving a patch of shaved scalp on top. He shaves off the half-inch fuzz down to the whiteness of my scalp, putting pressure on the machine to clip as short as possible. Now it’s buzzing in front of my ear, and around it. Peter folds it down to buzz the area behind my ear. The hot point of the metal clippers keeps running over my denuded head, over and over, back to front, up and down.

Now my head is clipped down to stubble, and I reach up to feel it. It feels picky and stubbly. Joe is looking and looking at me, and smiles. Peter lays a warm towel on my head, and starts up the hot foam dispenser. Replacing the warm towel with a hot one, he begins sharpening his straight razor on the strop hanging on the wall. My head now feels so warm. Peter removes the warm cloths and takes some shaving foam from the dispenser, smoothing it on my head. Joe joins in and also takes some foam, smoothing it over the back of my neck and sideburns, until I have a full warm white cap of cream on my head. It looks funny, and I giggle a little.

Peter tells me to look down, and as I do, his strong fingers steady my head. His razor begins short strokes on the back of my neck, a raspy sound. Higher and higher he goes, shaving off the picky stubble. He feels with his fingers the progress he is making. After a short while, the back is done, and he moves onto the crown of my head, making short strokes. As Peter was folding down my ear to reach the edges, I am overcome with the sensual feeling of the warm cream, and smooth scalp. It is a new feeling, but each stroke feels good, the slower the better. He slides the razor left to right on top, then right to left. Peter’s strokes are longer after a while, and the straight razor dances over my head, removing all the extra stubble. He slides his big fingers, slick with shaving cream, over my skull, feeling for stubble. By now I am smiling at the absurdness of being shaved bald, and also the sensuousness of the slick razor and sensitive denuded scalp. Peter and Joe also are all smiles as the job is finished up.

After he’s done, Peter washes my head with a warm wash cloth, and coats it with a layer of good smelling cream from a plastic bottle he had laid out. Peter said that the cream dries fast into glossy shine. Finally done, my husband Joe feels my smooth head, and gives me a small kiss, looking so grateful. I am woman, I am free of hair, and I look good. The camera films me being uncaped, and standing to show off my new smooth dome. Time to go home, and celebrate the best thing I ever did to liven up my marriage. Peter hands us a roll of bills, and we’re on our way home.

 

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