Substitute

Substitute

The Substitute

Late one afternoon, on my way home, I stopped at the barber shop for a trim. As I approached the shop, ahead of me a woman walked up to the door of the shop and went in. I entered the shop behind her and found that she and the barber were the only other people in the shop. I nonchalantly dropped into a chair to wait, picking up a magazine and pretended to read.

As it happened, it was just at closing time and we were obviously the last two customers of the day. With a glance at the clock, the barber latched the door and dropped the shade in the window. Then he nodded at the woman and she walked over to the leather-padded barber chair and seated herself. The large chair nearly swallowed her up her small frame.

Surreptitiously, I glanced at the girl in the chair. Her hair was dark brown, nearly black, and was caught up in a ponytail at the back of her head. An elastic band held the tightly pulled-back hair that covered her head like a gleaming cap. Her face looked somewhat pale, but there was a look of determination on her face. The shining dark hair made a sharp contrast with her face and the white apron that the barber held ready to drape over her.

“What’ll it be, miss?” the barber queried.

“I want a short haircut. A chili-bowl bob,” the girl replied firmly. “Just brushing the tops of my ears, with the back buzzed off REALLY short! And I want full bangs, right from my crown. Then I want my neck shaved with lather and razor, not an electric razor.”

The barber nodded and draped the apron over her. He snapped it around her slim neck and then jacked the chair up to a proper height. Then, he raised his hands and removed the elastic band that confined her lush, dark tresses. They tumbled down to graze her shoulders. Taking a comb, he carefully parted her hair in the center of her head. Next he combed her hair down smoothly all around her head. A hairbrush followed as the barber concentrated on removing every last tangle. Her hair hung like a shining, silky curtain, all smooth and dancing with highlights.

Taking a spray bottle, the barber spritzed water all over her dark head. As the water settled, her luxurious hair took on the color of ebony. Again he combed her hair carefully down all around, her wet locks gleaming with reflected light. His hand followed the comb, smoothing the myriad number of parallel comb-teeth marks into a sleek sheet of satin that hugged her head closely. He slicked her hair down behind her ears so that they emerged through her hair, with a section of hair falling loosely over them, to serve as a guide for making the first cut. Her wet head looked very small and vulnerable. In the mirror she watched the transformation of her hair into a glistening dark helmet.

The barber picked up the scissors and raised them to the right side of her head. He inserted them just below the top of her ear. He looked at her in the mirror and she nodded approval. Then the scissors closed and the lock of wet hair dropped to her shoulder and tumbled into her lap. Just as the scissors ravished the first lock, the phone in the back of the shop shattered the silence of the girl’s exquisite haircut ritual.

Muttering an apology, the barber went back to answer the phone. After a minute, he came back and said, “I’ve got a small problem that WON’T wait. I’ll be back in just a minute or two.” With that, he hurried out the back door.

Banteringly, I said to the girl, “Gee, I hope he doesn’t forget to come back!”

The girl gave a nervous laugh. “I sure HOPE not,” she muttered, “I am late enough as it is! I just KNEW I should have put this haircut off until tomorrow but I was afraid I’d lose my nerve.”

“Well,” I said, “it’s too late now, with one side short and one side long, huh? Or, do you think you could start a new style trend?”

“Yeah, right,” the girl said with a wry grin. She was silent for a moment and then glanced at the clock. “Damn,” she swore under her breath, “damn, damn, damn!”

I stood up and slowly sauntered over to the chair. I looked at the cut side of her wet hair. The hair was just over her ear, so that when it dried, it would be right at ear-top level. From her apron-draped perch in the big barber chair, she eyed me questioningly.

“That’s an easy cut to do,” I said. “Would you like me to take over? I can do it in no time if you want. I used to cut my girlfriend’s hair. Did it well, too. She used to come back to me for haircuts even after we broke up.”

“Ummmm, ohhh, would you mind doing that? I’m really awfully pressed for time and…” she asked hopefully.

“Say no more,” I grinned as I took the comb in hand. “By the way, I can’t give you a haircut until I know your name. I’m Jim.”

“Hi, Jim-the-barber, I’m Lori,” she smiled. “Now get busy and give me a haircut!”

“Right on, Lori,” I joked. “And here’s a ditty for YOU…. Hey! Lori in the barber’s chair, It’s time for me to cut your hair! Now settle back and just be brave, As I cut and clip and, lastly, shave!”

Lori laughed out loud. “A barber poet! Amazing! Just go easy on the ‘shave’ part – I don’t want to leave here bald!”

“Why not? You have a very nicely shaped head. I’ll bet you would look just great with your hair shaved completely off. Every woman should shave her head at least once in her life. It’s a fantastic experience. Once, when she wanted a complete change, my old girlfriend asked me to shave her head.”

“Gee! Did you do it?” Lori asked in a peculiar tone of voice, “Did you really shave her head?”

“Sure did,” I replied. “Total, complete head shave. Cut her hair off, buzzed her, lathered her head and shaved it. She loved it, too.”

Lori looked at me quizzically. “Honest? You really, really, actually shaved your girl’s head? You’re not kidding me? You buzzed all her hair off, lathered her head, and shaved it? What was it like?”

“Well,” I chuckled, “we both enjoyed it. We made a production of it. She dressed in her best negligee in a setting of soft lights and music. A good time was had by all.”

Lori caught my eye in the mirror and held it. She nodded in a thoughtful way and mused, “That sounds -ah- interesting. I’ve often wondered what it would be like…. well, I think I’ll stick with the chili-bowl cut you are going to give me. Let’s get started.”

I smiled at her and she grinned in return, then I set to work.

Taking the comb, I quickly sectioned the hair above her ears and, using her elastic band, formed it into a ponytail on top of her head. Then, after combing the hair on the back of her head down sleekly, I took the scissors in hand. Inserting them at the hairline at the nape of her neck, I quickly sheared off the six inches of damp hair. Taking a thick strand, I held it in front of her face. “Pucker up,” I smiled. She puckered her lips and I hung the hair under her nose like a Fu Manchu mustache. She laughed delightedly.

Moving again to the back of her head, I took the blow dryer and blew the short back hair for a minute so that it was nearly dry. Then I took the clippers and looked her in the eye.

“It will look best if the back is buzzed very short,” I said. “Is that OK and are you ready?”

She nodded slowly and I took my place in back of her. Placing one hand on top of her cool wet head, I gently pushed it down to expose the back of her head and nape for the clippers. I thumbed the button and the low hum of the clippers swept over her. She winced slightly but said nothing. Slowly, I lowered the clippers and they touched her neck. Then, I moved them purposefully up her neck and up the back of her head to ear-top level. Her hair ruffled up as the clippers slid under it. Dark clumps fell to her shoulders and down her breasts into her lap. Again and again, I eased the clippers up the back of her neck and head. I saw the goose bumps form on her skin and saw her shiver slightly. Hmmmmm! She was enjoying this! “Ah-HA,” I exulted to myself, “perhaps this may turn into MORE than just a simple haircut!”

I put the clippers down and went to the hot lather machine. Filling my hand with the rich lather, I returned to the chair and stood behind her. Gently I began to spread the lather over the back of her head and neck. I spread it up as high as I could, even a little into the hairline of the hair piled on top of her head.

Lori’s eyes opened wide. “Wha-what are you DOING?” she gasped. “You’re not going to SHAVE my head, ARE YOU?”

“I’m only shaving the buzzed part of your head and neck. It will look real nice. Just trust me,” I reassured her, smoothing the warm lather around. “I’m not going to lather your top hair….or AM I?” With that, I brushed a little dab of lather on the gathered up hair on top of her head.

She laughed, a bit uncertainly, her eyes riveted upon the lather at the top of her head. “Boy! You’re a REAL barber! No WONDER your girlfriend ended up with her head shaved!”

Chuckling, I carefully wiped the dab of lather from the top of her crown. “Shaving women’s heads is always fun,” I agreed.

With that I picked up a straight razor from the shelf. It was freshly honed and, placing my hand upon her head, I started shaving. Her eyes were no longer wide and, in fact, had taken on a relaxed, almost dreamy look. I quickly removed the lather and fuzz from the back of her head, leaving her bare scalp in sharp contrast to the dark, wet hair above.

Leaning towards her, I whispered quietly in her delicate ear, “Enjoyed that, hmmm? Imagine what it would be like to have your whole head done like that.”

As I whispered, I stroked the hair on top of her head. Her reaction was almost predictable. A slow flush crept over her face and she lowered her eyes demurely, but she said nothing.

Then I took down the hair from the top of her head, combing it down sleekly all around, covering the shaved back and neck. I gathered the crown hair back on top again leaving a layer of hair hanging down below it. Rapidly, I took the scissors and, following the first cut that the barber had made, I scissored the hair off all around her head. The first layer of the bowl was done.

Taking the remaining crown hair down, I combed it from a point at the crown of her head, down all around, some of it covering her face. Now for the FUN, I thought. Placing one hand on the top of her head, I picked up the clippers and turned them on. I felt her wince as she heard the pervasive humming.

“Don’t move, now,” I said as I moved the clippers to the curtain of hair covering her face. “I’m going to cut your new bangs.”

With the clippers inverted, I used them to cut bangs just above her eye level. The hair dropped away revealing her eyes screwed tightly shut. Then they flew open and she smiled at me. Moving to her side, I continued cutting the bowl-pattern all the way around her head, finishing at the other side. The clippers sliced through the dark curtain effortlessly, making a gentle, rasping sound as the strands fell away.

By this time, her hair was only damp, since it had been slowly drying during the shearing. Her haircut looked very neat and precise with the shaved back complementing the sleek dark bowl. Surveying herself in the mirror, Lori had a look of awe and rapture on her face.

Now, I thought, NOW is the time. I took the clippers and stood behind her again. “Close your eyes a minute, Lori,” I breathed in a soft voice. The brown eyes slowly closed as the cloying smile played with the corners of her mouth. I turned the clippers on and placed them on shaved back of her head. I moved them up to the hairline at the top of her ears. Then, pausing, I leaned to whisper in her ear.

“Well, Lori, the clippers are there on the back of your head again. Would you like me to clip a little more under the edge of your hairline? Just a little higher? Under the edge of your hair? Shall we let the clippers go a bit more? Lori? The clippers are hungry, they want more of your hair…Lori?”

I looked at her in the mirror. Her eyes were closed and the half smile graced her lips. Then, almost imperceptibly, her head nodded…

My hand found the top of her head, bending it gently down again. The clippers crept slowly under her hairline, slowly inched higher… and higher… until they were near the crown of her head. I could see her breasts rising and falling rapidly as excitement crept over her. Lowering the clippers, I started them up her shaved scalp again, making another fresh path to the crown. Three more times I did this, until the entire back of her head was clipped.

Continuing to hold her head down, I shut off the clippers and placed them on the shelf. Reaching under the apron, I brought her hand out and guided it to the back of her head and let her feel the close cropped hair high up at the crown. Her fingers moved back and forth, savoring the erotic feel of her clipped head. A happy, whimpering sound escaped her lips and I felt her give a small shiver of excitement. Again, I reached for the clippers and turned them on. Again, they rested on her head. Again, my lips found her ear…

“Yes, Lori, now’s the time… I’m going to finish your lovely haircut… shorter and shorter… clippers running all over your head… alllll over you, tickling and teasing… your hair falling… falling… feel the clippers, Lori? They’re ready, Lori, ready for you… ready to slide through your hair… all over your head, Lori… now, Lori, NOW…”

A soft moan was Lori’s only response. She sat there, eyes closed, waiting…

I let my hand slide forward and down onto her forehead, covering her bangs. I gently pulled her head back and let the clippers glide upward across the top of her head. The white swath showed starkly in the middle of the dark hair. Stepping closer, I held her head against my chest as I proceeded to slowly, and lovingly, clip the top of her head bare of the damp hair from which a slight fragrance arose. I clipped the sides, too, as I held her head in a firm but gentle embrace. Putting the clippers down, I continued to hold her head gently as I felt her trembling with excitement.

Releasing her, I stepped to the lather machine. In the mirror, I saw her eyes open slowly and she stared at her clippered head in the mirror. Taking the handful of lather, I began to spread it all over her head as she watched me with the same dreamy look in her eyes. Bending to her ear I whispered….

“All over now, Lori, except the final shaving. Are you all ready?”

Again, the small nod from the lathered head atop the small, aproned figure. With painstaking, infinite care, I began to shave the petite head before me. The lather disappeared, bit by bit, until at last her scalp was completely bare. I examined her bald head closely, aware that the fragrance of her wet hair had been replaced by the faintly masculine scent of shaving lather. Finding a bottle of scented lotion on the shelf, I spread some on her scalp and slowly massaged her smooth head. Last of all, I sprinkled powder on her shaved head and smoothed it around. All of the time, she was admiring the striking image in the mirror of a bald woman. Without hair to detract, her brown eyes seemed enormous.

I removed the apron and let the chair down. She rose from the chair and turned to me, eyes shining mischievously.

“I guess that now I have to pay my barber for the haircut,” she said in a breathless manner. “And I think I know JUST the right way. C’mon, let’s go and I’ll make the proper payment.”

Taking my hand, she led me out of the barber shop into the gathering darkness.

 

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