Touch-up

Touch-up, a short hair short story – bob688

This story is a work of fiction meant for adults who enjoy reading about non-consensual hair cutting. As a work of fiction, it is intended for the world of fantasy, not the real world. Carrying out the actions in this story would be a violation of local, state, and possibly federal law, as well as being destructive of a marital relationship.

This is my first work of fiction, me having spent my career writing factual reports, this has been a fun exercise. I wrote it to thank those who have written the many stories I have enjoyed reading for some time. I am pleased with this effort, but would welcome constructive comments. Hope you enjoy it… bob688@flinet.com

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. No! I’m not going to let you cut my hair, Jim. I’ve had waist length hair since high school, and I like it that way. I’m not going to let you cut it. Absolutely not…I’ll tell you what, though. My hair color needs a touch-up. You can do that for me. You’ve done it before, and you enjoyed it. It should be fun for you.”

Jim was really angry with Carolyn this time. He had asked her nicely many times. He had even been extra romantic and attentive to her for weeks. He brought her flowers for no reason. He took her out to nice restaurants. Damn. He even bought her an expensive ring. Even that didn’t help. She still wouldn’t let him near her hair.

Sure, he had adored her long hair when they first met. In fact, that was what attracted him to her in the first place. He played with it, combed it, braided it, and fell asleep in it, but that was years ago, before they were married, and before he recognized his short hair fetish. Now, he becomes excited at the sight of a woman with short hair, the shorter the better. He looks for short haircuts wherever he goes, and is regularly rewarded with the sight of a woman who has cut her hair very short. Although he has never seen a woman with a bald head, he has often fantasized about shaving someone with long hair. There are even times when Jim has tried to squint his eyes and imagine what Carolyn would look like with her head shaved. That would be an incredibly exciting thing to do, but he also knows that is an impossible dream. Heck, she won’t even let him give her a very conservative shoulder length haircut.

“I could pick up a hair color kit and we could color it this weekend, Saturday afternoon, just you and me. What do you think, Jim?”

“Jim! Did you hear a word I said?”

“Yeah…sure”, he responded, having been startled out of his stream of angry thoughts. “Saturday afternoon, just you and me. Yeah, good idea”.

Meanwhile, Carolyn was feeling very satisfied with herself. She had once again deflected Jim’s adolescent attempts to change her appearance, to shorten her long, lovely hair, her pride and joy since her school days. Coloring her hair should keep Jim happy for a time, and keep him off her back about hair cutting.

Although Jim sounded very calm and interested in the prospect of coloring her hair, his mind was now racing along, his anger having focused on Saturday afternoon and Carolyn’s waist length hair. “That bitch”, he thought. “She thinks she can put me off that easy. We’ll see. ”

The rest of the week passed in a blur for Jim. He went to work, came home, watched TV, and did everything as usual, but his mind was on only one thing. How would he extract his revenge on her? Would it be something slow and subtle, something she wouldn’t even know he had done, or would it be something bold and direct, something she had no choice but to helplessly watch him do? Jim quickly gave up the idea of simply demanding that she sit down and telling Carolyn that he was going to cut her hair. Although she has always had the power to give him direct orders, he has not been able to achieve such authority over her.

This line of thought was not a complete waste of time, however, since it did lead Jim to realize that she would already be seated Saturday afternoon, and he would certainly have to comb and arrange her hair in order to color it. “That’s half the battle”, he thought. It would be the simple matter of a few snips of the scissors and she would have a new hairdo. “Yeah, that’s it. It would be simple and quick. No arguments.”, he thought. This seemed like right plan until Jim realized he didn’t really want things to be “simple and quick” for Carolyn. He wanted it to be slow. He wanted to enjoy this project. He wanted the thrill to last. He’d have to come up with another plan. The next several days were not very productive for Jim. He just couldn’t seem to come up with the right plan for Saturday. Everything he thought of was either much too direct and quick, or it was too complicated, or didn’t sufficiently reward him for his efforts. Jim’s problem was answered Friday morning while driving to work, in the form of a radio commercial. “That’s perfect”, he shouted out the open car window. “Its devious, it’s slow, and its 100% effective”. By lunch time, he had figured out the whole Saturday scene, and bought the necessary supplies over lunch hour. He sure felt better now. He would have his revenge, his way with her hair, and she would have no choice but to willingly co-operate with him in his efforts. The whole time, he would be the only one to know the true outcome. “What a fantastic plan”. He was able to put in a good half day’s work that week, after all.

Jim returned home with great anticipation. He had a renewed sense of joy, an unusual sense of control and self confidence. Friday evening and Saturday morning, he made a special point of being pleasant and even romantic to her, and being very conscious of her hair, of enjoying its incredible length and gorgeous texture. Although he was determined to carry out his plan, he also knew that things would never be the same afterwards, and he felt instinctively that the erotic pleasure he gets from this plan will be greatly increased to the extent she believes they both really treasure and appreciate her hair’s shining beauty.

Not wanting to appear too anxious to color her hair, Jim let Carolyn bring up the subject and suggest they begin. “Sure, this is a real good time. I’ll get the brush and comb and stuff, and you get the hair color kit. I’ll move the chair over into the family room where the floor is easier to clean up,” Jim cheerfully noted. She returned to the family room a few moments later with the package he remembered seeing from times in the past when he had helped her color her hair. He noted that she is still using that same color, a nice shade of reddish brown, with a beautiful smiling woman on the front of the package.

“Now you remember how to do this, right? You mix the small bottle into the big one, shake it, and apply the liquid to the hair roots and up about a half inch or so onto the hair. You apply it all over my head at the roots, then we cover it with plastic and let it set for about 25 minutes, then wash it out. Right?” She was certain he remembered how to do this, but she didn’t want to take any chances that he would mess this up. She hoped she had not made a mistake in suggesting he color her hair, instead of cutting it. Could he do this right? “I don’t need to worry”, she thought. “This stuff is so simple, even Jim can get it right, if l watch him closely”.

Jim went over into the kitchen to safely contain any spills, and began mixing the coloring liquid. “I’m going to mix the colors into this plastic bowl this time. I had some trouble using that bottle they give you with the little narrow tip. I’ll just dip into the bowl, like I do when I’m painting. Ok?”

“Yeah. Whichever you’re most comfortable with.” she cheerfully answered.

Jim returned to his mixing. Into the bowl went the liquid from the small bottle, and the liquid from the larger bottle. He also added the liquid from the bottle he had hidden in his own pocket. He returned the empty small and larger bottles to the hair color package, and began to quickly mix the three liquids together. He had no question things would look right, because he had already tried this once to be sure his plan wouldn’t be found out before he was ready. It was essential that the mixture he was applying to her scalp look and feel normal. He was sure it would.

“Ok, we’re ready to begin”, Jim calmly said, trying very hard to mask the erotic pleasure coming from deep within him. Breathing slowly and deeply seemed to help. Carolyn had already combed out her hair, not an easy task since it now covered both Carolyn and most of the chair as well. “I’ll begin at the front hairline, then to the crown, then the two sides and finally the back”, Jim confidently began.

“This may work out well after all. I get my hair colored, and I get him off my back for a while about cutting my hair. What a great idea I had”, Carolyn said quietly to herself.

Jim continued to apply the brown, foamy liquid to her whole scalp. He found it necessary to continue to breathe deeply and slowly in order to hide his extreme state of elation at his success. There were times he was sure she could hear his heart beating, it was beating so loudly. He also had to work hard to keep his hands out of her sight, because they were visibly shaking, probably another result of the adrenalin surge which he knows accompanies erotic pleasure. As he worked his way down to her one ear, then down to the other, he wondered what Carolyn would look like with absolutely no hair on her head.

Jim had experimented on a small patch of his own hair, and he knew that the hair remover he had mixed in with the coloring liquid removed every last bit of hair at the scalp, and he had only left his own on for the suggested 10 minutes. After Carolyn’s 20 or 25 minutes, she would be an absolute “cue ball”. How would she feel as she washed out the hair color, only to find, to her absolute horror, that handfuls of her pride and joy since high school were falling out at the roots? Jim wished he could be there to watch her, to see for himself first her denial, then her disbelief, and finally her horror and acceptance of the fact that she is now totally bald.. He wanted to be there as she screamed and wept at her incredible loss. But, in keeping with the plan, Jim did what he had done each time, he cleaned up the mess the hair coloring had made, and put the chair back in its place. He was particularly careful to clean out the bowl in which he had mixed the hair color. He first washed it with soap and water, then poured in laundry bleach, in an effort to remove any trace of hair remover (and thus any sign of guilt on his part for this terrible tragedy). He would have to carefully dispose of the hair remover bottle, also.

Having cleaned up and disposed of any evidence, Jim waited for that inevitable call from the shower. He would be a sympathetic husband, and would be as horror-struck as she was. He wouldn’t believe what he saw, and would ask her what she had done. He would threaten to sue the hair color manufacturer. He would speak of how lovely her hair had been, how it looked so pretty in the sunshine, and how he would so miss the part it played in their foreplay and love making. He would blame her for denying him the fun of giving her a haircut as he had requested the other day. But as the loving and caring mate, he would rub her bald scalp and suggest that she could always wear wigs, and that the hair would grow back to a reasonable length in just 6 or 8 years.

“JIIIIMMMMM”

Bob688@flinet.com 12/95

 

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