She cried wolf


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She cried wolf

By JimB  ©opyright August 2018

 

 

Connie was a gal who liked to play games with her friends, mostly when they had a few too many to drink.

The games were not off beat, simple ones where no one could, or would, get hurt.

Maybe their pride!

She had many who would try to get back at her, but she had played so many games she knew them all.

Or, she could see them coming at her.

Brett was her best girlfriend from high school, for some fifteen years, and she had seen many of Connie’s games.

She even had a hand, or two, in some of them. Especially back in high school.

They mostly played them on other girls, only a few on the boys.

The boys took them harder than the girls would, maybe that was because it was a girl getting the best of them.

Brett had been the butt of a few her self, only catching Connie’s games twice.

But, she had never played one on Connie, nor did she try.

She was satisfied to just sit back and watch the game unfold.

Brett had met Roger a few months back, he was well educated and with a great job. He had worked all his teen-age life and had set aside much of his earning.

He now owned a number of businesses, from specialty stores to a tax service.

In a way he was what many of their girlfriends have, or had, been looking for.

Connie tried to play her games on Roger, but he had learned from the streets and could see her winding up for the pitch.

His reaction was very swift, dodging with the grace of a mind reader.

Brett often told him, “One day Connie is going to get you, if you don’t get her first”.

Roger would only laugh, saying, “It was hard to get at someone who was only having fun”.

That was until last Saturday night.

Connie’s favorite games, was the ones where she would talk the other person into doing something if the lost, like a bet. With most of the men the bet was they would have to get their hair cut shorter than they had it.

But, she had never gone through with pushing the bet when they lost. It was more part of the game she was playing, just hoping a little too.

A few times she would bet one of the other girls a haircut, just to see their expression and reaction.

I was one of those girls, now I have a nice short wedge because of her.

My hair had been to just below my shoulder blades, and after a few losses to her my hair was almost above my ears.

So, I had my stylist give me something I could live with, and stopped playing games with Connie.

But, last Saturday night she took it a little to far, for Roger.

Her game for the night was “how much can you drink”. It was known she could put beer away like a drunk.

But, when it came to hard liquor, that was another question.

Roger, who likes to sip brandy, became her pigeon for the night.

He was not in a good mood, having worked late all week.

All he wanted to do was enjoy a quiet time and a few brandies, and head home to get some sleep.

But, Connie would have none of that.

They were playing a game of pool when Connie came up with her little game.

For each missed shot, she would get to snip an inch off his dark hair.

And, if she had cut it short enough he would have to get his head shaved.

Being a better than fair pool player Roger said he would take her up on the bet if the same applied to her.

Connie looked at her platinum blond wedge for a few minutes.

The bar became unusually quiet as everyone watched her and waited for her reply. You could hear the air conditioner breeze blowing from the vents, the dripping of the water from the tap, the ice machine dripping water to be come ice.

Everyone was waiting, waiting to see if Connie would be caught in her own game, finally.

“I would”, she finally said. “But, I do not have a pair of scissors with me.

“So, I guess we will have to make another kind of bet”.

One for Connie, she had been faced with her own game and walked away a winner somewhat.

So, the bet was changed to a shot of brandy with each missed shot. This was somewhat of a surprise, seeing Connie had never had a sip of brandy.

Roger knew this and took well advantage of it.

He chose a French brandy that was one hundred and fifteen per cent alcohol, and made of a grape which itself was high in alcohol content when aged.

Roger had won the toss of the coin and chose to let her shoot first.

You did not have to make a ball on the break, just send the ball around the table for a good game.

But, luck had it Connie sank one ball, missing the second shot.

The waitress, Sandy, poured the first shot and handed to her.

At first she started to sip it, but Roger stopped her and said,

“NO my dear. It is a shot, you toss it in and swallow”.

Not wanting to break any agreement they made she did as he had said.

Her eyes opened wide after she swallowed it.

Roger made the next two balls, but missed the third one.

With mouth opened wide he tossed the short of brandy down like it was water.

Connie missed her ball and followed with the short of brandy.

This time you could see it was beginning to take toll of her.

She could hardly line up her next short.

Each had sunk three balls, Connie was now holding onto the table as she walked around it.

Her head shook as she tried to line up her next shot, the stick rushed wildly pass the ball missing it by a foot, as one would say.

As the waitress handed her the next shot of brandy, you could see Connie was about to fold under. She tossed her head back and the brandy went flying all over her face.

Her head jerked back, her eyes rolled a little, her body began to weave, and she fell forward into Roger’s arms.

“Well, I think I won the game, and her game”, Roger announced.

Everyone gave a cheer, more for him winning than her falling out.

We tried to pour some strong coffee down her, but she was too far gone.

Faced with this Roger and I decided it was time to go, and we would drop Connie at her apartment to sleep it off.

And, maybe she would dream about her games.

We arrived at her apartment about thirty minutes later and carried her into her bedroom.

I undressed her as Roger started running the cold water in the shower.

As, I walked, more dragging, her to the bathroom Roger and I began to talk about the original bet, the one where each miss shot would cost a snip of hair, and maybe a head shaving.

A bet she had made many times, but she had few takers.

We talked about the few males who had taken her up on it and ended up with crew cuts.

About the few women who also lost, each ended up with their long hair above the shoulder.

And, even me ending up with this short wedge, which Roger liked. He was a “neck man”.

After getting her undressed we put her in the tube and turned on the cold water.

About fifteen minutes later we heard from her, it was one of those “moans” you hear from someone who had too much to drink.

The kind that something was coming up.

Roger pulled the curtain back just as she pushed herself up and hung her head over the side.

I grabbed the wastepaper basket and stuck it just in time to save the floor.

Her color was pale, turning to a shade of green; then back to an almost white.

“Aaaaa”, Roger spoke as he sniffed the air, “the sweet smell of someone who has not drank a strong brandy”.

With that she let loss another flow.

“She’s going to have a nice one tomorrow morning.” he cracked with a laugher.

“I’ll see if she has any juice”, I told him as I got up from the floor. “It will at least put something her stomach”.

“You better make it milk”, Roger told me. “It will help settle her stomach”.

When I returned with a glass of milk, her eyes were at a half sleep position.

She was mumbling words that did not make any statement, as she tried to get out of the tube.

Roger wiped her face and got her to rinse her mouth and throat.

He lifted her on the side of the tube as I poured the glass of milk.

After getting her to drink the milk Roger told me to get a large bath towel to dry her off, as he turned on the cold and hot water.

“A good showering will help”, he said.

As he held her under her arms, I washed her down. She became a little limp, more sleepy.

As I looked for the towel I came across something I had never seen before.

At first I started to say something to Roger, but decided not to.

But, as I was drying her I started to laugh, which he wanted to know “what was so funny”.

I told him, “She had one of those home barber set in the cabinet”.

“Wonder if she ever used it on anyone”, he replied with a snicker.

As I dried her hair a little light came on. I looked at him,

“Do you think she will remember anything in the morning.

“I mean like the bet and losing”.

“Some of it she will”, he told me as he laid her in her bed,

“Why, what are you thinking”?

“Well, …..”, I said hesitating a little, “do you think she will remember, I mean really remember, what the bet was”?

Roger gave me that “I don’t know” look, as he asked,

“What have you in mind. Something to make her think more about her games!”

I looked at him, told him not to put the covers over her, and went to the bathroom.

A few minutes later I returned with the home barber set.

“What’s that for …..”, he inquired with a glazed look.

“Well, ……,” I begin.

“She has made that bet about a “few snips” of hair and never lost. Suppose she …..”

“Come now …..”, Roger laughed.

“Just a few little snips, about an inch here and there”, she told him as she picked at Connie’s hair.

“Just to make her think in the morning”.

He looked her as he ran his fingers through her hair, “It still a little wet”!

I opened the box and dropped everything in it on the bed.

The clippers hit the bed bouncing a little, as the metal scissors fell next to it.

I had never seen a clipper set before and was amazed at the plastic attachments for the clippers.

Roger explain, that each “attachment” was used to cut hair to a different length with the clippers.

“It was quicker then with a scissors”, he told me.

I picked up the scissors and opened and closed them.

They worked smooth as if she had kept them well oiled and possible used them often.

I sat next to her on the bed and begin running my fingers through her damp hair.

“You wouldn’t dare”, Roger sparked.

“Just a few snips”, I told him as I held a section of hair up from her head.

“An inch here and a inch here”, I said as I took a snip of the section I was holding.

“Just a little to make her want to get her hair cut shorter to cover the loss”.

Roger watched as I picked up another section of hair, “snip” an inch, well a little more than an inch, came off.

I begin to feel some kind of “power” come over me.

I grabbed a larger section in the back of her head, “SNIP”, this one was closer to her scalp.

For sure she would need a shorter hair cut, now.

I looked at Roger as I took hold of another section, “SNIP”.

I looked at him watching me, his eyes were a little larger, he a smug smile on his face.

“Here”, I told him. “Take a “snip”. She will never know”.

He looked a little nervous, as he took whole of the scissors.

“Where should I cut”, he nervously asked.

“Just take a grab and cut”, I whispered.

He ran his fingers through her hair grabbing a section of hair.

“Here, …..” he asked.

I looked at him, “Whatever …..”.

His shaking hand brought the scissors to the section, the blades opened, “How much should I cut”?

“Just put it anywhere and “SNIP””, I told him.

“Just think of it as if the original bet had been made. You won, now you have the pleasure”.

He closed his eyes and slowly began to close the blades of the scissors. He became off balance and the scissors fell close to her scalp.

“SNIP” he had cut a length shorter that the one I had cut.

It was about a half inch from her scalp.

I quickly took the scissors from him and turned her head so he would not see how close he had cut.

I grabbed another section on the top, SNIP.

As I turned her head to look for another spot to do a little “snipping” he saw the section he had cut.

His fingers took hold of the half inch section standing up, “This should do it”.

He took the scissors from me, as his fingers took hold of a larger section next to the one he had cut.

“SNIP”, “SNIP”, it took two times to cut through the section.

I watched as his fingers grabbed another section on the left side of her head, “SNIP”.

He was fingering her hair for another section,

“Hell …..”, I barked as I reached for the clippers, “Let’s do it right”.

I picked up the clippers, undid the cord, and handed the end to him, “Do you see the outlet under the table”.

He looked and plugged it in.

“How short are you going to cut her hair”, he asked.

I thumbed through the plastic attachment, “Which do you recommend”?

He closed his eyes and reached, “This one”. It was marked “#3”.

“How short”, I asked as he looked in the instructions sheet.

“Says’ three quarter of an inch”, he said as he picked up another one. “This one will cut her hair to quarter of an inch.

“WHAT do you think”?

“Let’s use this one first”, I told him as I put the “#3” attachment on the clippers.

“Let’s see how she looks, and then make a decision”.

After putting the attachment on I fingered the switch,

“CLICK” it snapped on loudly.

Connie’s head turned as she let out a moan.

We watched to see if she was coming to.

Her head rolled back and her arms and legs moved wildly, then they came to a rest.

Roger whispered in her ears, she did not respond.

He looked at me with a twitch of his eye and a smug smile.

“You hold her head”, I told him.

I placed the clippers in the middle of her forehead and pushed it back as far as I could before it hit the pillow.

Her head moved to the side, but she didn’t wake up.

I placed the clippers again at her forehead and pushed it back over her head, another half inch strip of hair was left behind.

“Here, ….. let me turn her head so you can get to the back”, he told me as he turned her head. “She’ll have to get her hair completely cut if you clipped the back a little”.

As I placed the clippers at the base of the hairline I told him,

“What do you mean “a little”. I intend to run this “baby” over her whole head. Half inch or nothing”.

He looked at me with a smile and held her head as I begin my pass.

“Half inch or nothing”, he cracked and took the clippers from me.

“What the hell”, I barked.

He removed the attachment, “Or, NOTHING”.

He placed the clippers at the hairline and began pushing it upward leaving behind hair so short I could not believe the clippers could cut.

Quickly he moved the clippers upward again.

He made a few more passed in the back and turned her head to the right.

“Here, …..”, he said handing the clippers to me, “want to take a few passes while I go get something”.

I took the clippers and begin clipping the left side of her head. With each pass I could not believe I was doing this to my best girlfriend, let a known her being under the influence of alcohol.

But, I was feeling “power”, “power” to do something to her that she had the “power” to make me do. It was because of her I had this wedge cut.

I begin clipping faster, moving her head as I needed.

With the left side completed I turned her head to the left and started on the right side.

Roger returned carrying a bowl, towel, a can of shaving cream, and some safety razor.

“What the HELL”, I smiled, “or “nothing””.

He smiled back at me, as he put the bowl on the night table.

He watched as I finished clipping her hair from her head, his fingers brushing the clipped hairs from around her head and off the pillow.

“We’ll have to take turns holding her up”, he told me.

I smiled.

With the last stroke of the clippers he took hold of her shoulders,

“You lather her head and I will hold her up”.

It felt strange lathering her head. In fact it felt strange lathering anything on her.

We had been friend for years and not once did we shave each other like many of our girlfriends in high school did.

They would have “sleep parties” and would do each other’s hair, nails, and shave each other’s legs and underarms. I could not see myself doing these things, but now here I was lathering my best girlfriend’s head.

Roger watched telling me where I missed a spot, or needed a “little more lather”.

“Spread it on thick” he would say as I piled the cream on her head.

After letting it sit a while I sat behind her holding her up, as Roger dipped the razor in the water.

He took hold of her chin, to hold her head still, and begin shaving her forehead.

I could hear the razor scraping the scalp of hair, a sound I had never heard before.

Each stroke of the razor left behind skin, pale skin needing to be darkened.

The shaving revealed the darkness of her hair, almost a “jet” black color.

“It would take time for her scalp to darken to fade in her shaven head”, I thought. I could not believe I was thinking this, as if I expected her to keep her head shaved after she found out.

I begin to wonder what she would say when she woke in the morning and looked in the mirror, or ran her fingers over her head.

I know what I would say and do, but Connie was different.

She kind of took thing differently, almost like she expected them to happen.

But, this ……….

“Want to take a few passes”, Roger asked as he rinsed the razor.

I looked at her half shaven head, as that “power” came over me.

“What the hell”, I told him, “I took the first cut with the scissors”.

With that I took the razor and he came behind me and took hold of her.

“Should I make each stroke long or short”, I inquired, as I had never shaved anyone’s head before.

“Short strokes”, he said. “Rinse the razor before you take the next one”.

I followed his instructions until I had the right side of her head shaved.

My fingers brushed over her shaven head. It felt smooth but a little tight. A shock wave ran through my body as I brushed over the top of her shaven head. I took a deep breath in pleasure, my eyes opened.

“Want me to shave the back”, Roger asked. “I can get to it better. You can finish the left side”.

I placed the razor in his mouth and he let her slid into my arms.

“Let her head rest on your shoulder”, he told me.

With her head resting he would not have to hold her head, thus he would be able to shave her head quicker.

I was able to watch him shave each stroke short and smooth.

After he took about twelve strokes, it was time to shave the left side of her head.

We swapped, letting the right side of her head rest on his chest.

Slowly, but a little more quicker, I shaved the left side of her head smooth.

It did not take as long as it did when I did the right side.

The “power” was stronger this time.

When I was finished Roger took the wet towel and wiped her head.

He ran his fingers over it, “Smooth ….., here feel”.

I ran my fingers over her head. It was smooth, but felt like sandpaper in a few places.

Roger notices this, also, and picked up another razor.

He dipped it in the cool water and began searching with his fingers for these “sandpaper” spots.

Quickly when they were found he razored them away.

I begin looking at her face, how big her eyes looked with her head shaved.

With the right make-up and earrings she could carry the shaven head well, but that was wishing.

Softly I stroked her face, how peaceful she looked.

But, in the morning …..

Then, it came to me, “her eyebrows”!

She took good care of them, always keeping them groomed.

Not one strand longer than the other, always the same arch in that sexual way.

One the men like, the one that made men look deep into her eyes.

They had to be changed, after all her haircut had changed.

At first I started looking for her tweezers, but decided on just shorter.

I picked up the clippers and flicked them on.

“What are you going to do, now”, Roger asked.

I smiled and told him, “Just hold her head still”.

I pulled the skin, above her eyes, upward and passed the clippers over her eyebrows.

They were clipped close to the skin, You could barely see them.

Finished, I turned the clippers off.

“Now, ……..”, I said, “we are finished”.

I left her eye lashes alone. I wanted to see what she would do to with them herself.

With the shaving finished we begin cleaning up things, brushing the cut hairs into a bag. Washing out the bowel,

Roger took home the towel and razors.

We put her under the covers, set her alarm clock for 9am, turned out the lights, and he brought me home.

 

The End         By JimB  ©opyright August 2018

 

 

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