Recently I’ve seen 2 stories I wrote many years ago which have been republished her by others claiming to be the authors. Here is one that may not have been read by many, thought it’d post it before someone else claims it. Thanks for reading.
My absolute favourite pink Manolos pumped the pedal on my chair as I gazed outside. The rain seemed to get heavier and heavier pelting on the aluminum window frame, it was only Tuesday I thought with a mental sigh. Turning my attention back to the young man in my chair, I slipped the cape off my shoulder and shook it out with a ruffle attempting to gain his mother’s attention.
I really hated bitches like this, stuck-up businesswomen Carrie Bradshaw wannabes dumping their precocious kids on me. She somehow managed to be on her ipad, blackberry and iphone at the same time. I turned back to my station and pulled a generous length of tissue, ripping it clear before once again trying to catch her attention. “Excuse me miss…” I hesitated. She looked up at me with a sense of puzzled annoyance. How dare I ask her how she wanted her son’s hair cut? “What are we doing today?” I queried politely whilst secretly wanting to stab her in the eye with my 7” shears. Flustered, she blurted out “shorter”, before returning to her call. Poor kid, mom had just signed a blank check and I was gonna cash it to teach her a lesson.
I chewed my gum with a sultry smile as a pulled the tissue around the boys neck, he fidgeted. The black cape was swathed over him and settled with a rustle and pinned with a snap. His hair was over his ears and unruly, quite the trend at the moment, not for long…. Pulling my clippers off the hook I blew the loose hairs whilst catching his gaze, fear was apparent. Snapping a number 1 on, I teasingly racked my oversized false nails through his mane, I suspect he knew it was the last supper. My hand planted on top of his head tilting his head to his lap with subtle force, “pop”….
I’d be the first to admit I probably dressed more on the provocative side, but that was me. Today it was my fave heels as mentioned, my new black leather pants and white tank. I was fortunate to have a large bust with a size 8 waist. I also loved jewelry, makeup, generous amounts of perfume you good hair. Certainly not your typical barber. My male clients loved me, wives and girlfriends hated me, younger ones ogled me awkwardly in pubescent awe.
First pass was straight up the nape with a flick of the wrists, shear-flick-repeat. Mounds tumbled and began to form a ring at the base of the chair. I was surprised he sat so still, and even more surprised his mother hadn’t interjected in shock sooner. Was too late anyway. I rolled his head left and right and had now reduced the back and sides to a crisp number one, much better.
The clippers were shut off and I dusted the mounds from his neck and shoulders before picking up my scissors, comb and spray bottle. His mother hung up the phone shortly after, “thank god” I thought. Was sick of her winy voice. She made her way to the chair wide eyed with LV tote on her arm, I saw her in the mirror and kept cutting. “Wow… ummm it’s rather short don’t you think?” she queried in a stern manner as she peered at her son. I kept combing and cutting with precision and without glancing sideways. “Its short, what you asked me for isn’t it?” I retorted. “Ummm well yes, but a little shorter than I imagined perhaps ….?” There was an awkward silence as I combed and cut, “well your father will be happy I suppose….”. She conceded, she knew she was in the wrong, I continued the cut with a slight victory smile, “lesson learnt” I mused.
Just then I felt a vibrate in my pocket. As I put my shears down to reach for the duster I snuck a peak. It was my bestie Sarah, “we’ve got a live one” it stated. I gleamed, this day just became a whole lot more fun and profitable for that matter. To be explained shortly.
The cape was unsnapped and whisked away with the remnants of the young mans mop which had been reduced to a very calculated short back and sides. He winced off the chair and sulked in the direction of his mother who rose to inspect the damage. Shaking the cape out I invited her to the chair for fun, “were you next miss?” I queried, with a partially mocking tone. She was slightly taken aback at my offer but composed herself before politely declining and pulling out her purse to pay me for my services and tip generously. Thank god they were gone.
Which brings me to my friend Sarah’s text message. Sarah and I had actually met in my chair, she was a police officer, client and now friend for over 10 years. We were close, but had recently become even closer due to the success of our own little ‘online enterprise’. One night after I had cut her hair we went out for a drink at a local bar, nothing out of the ordinary until we somehow began talking about the online hair community, fetishists if you will. Still not sure how that topic came about but one thing lead to another and we uncovered how much money people were making by selling and distributing haircutting videos, it was our light bulb moment. In summary we decided we would become content producers… but how you ask?
After bitch-face left I locked the door and drew the blinds, preparing the stage in readiness for our latest model to arrive. I had a good 30mins before show time, enough for me to prepare the hosting site, cameras and outfit. I usually took it up a notch in the outfit department for our shoots and today was no exception. Leather cat-suit, same heels and a ghd run through my sleek dark bob.
All hosting software was test and confirmed, cameras ready and community notified via message board. It was going to be a PPV live haircut, now to wait. I sat back in my chair and touched up my makeup keeping an eye on the PPV subscriptions growing by the minute. We had over 600 live members in the lobby waiting for the show to start, it was getting bigger and better ever production and I was ready to put on a show.
Moments later there was a knock at the door, show-time. I looked at myself in the mirror pressing my lips together freshening my pink lip gloss before closing my makeup case and making my way to the entrance. I opened the door, “ladies, glad you could make it”, I cooed acknowledging Sarah and the model in question. They both made their way in to the shop before I closed and then locked the door once more.
“Well ladies what brings you here??” I said trying to seem like I had no idea what was going on. Sarah, still dressed in her police uniform ordered the lady to sit down on a waiting chair. “Well, this young lady right here is recently convicted of possessing a trafficable amount of cocaine. She’s been released on bail with the good behavior bond. Lucky for her the judge gave her a warning and bought the story that she had only been implicated in her boyfriend’s drug ring. However… this afternoon during a random search of Miss Stevenson’s apartment, we found this…” she held a small bag aloft. “It seems this little black duck didn’t learn her lesson and will more than likely now face jail time”. The girl sobbed, “please no! I’ll do anything! My dad will kill me!! I can’t go to jail!!” she pleaded.
Sarah strode around the shop spinning her baton, “well Sabrina…… that is indeed what brings us here to my friends shop. We have a proposal for you that we think will work well for both parties….” she purred. Sabrina looked at both Sarah and I with smudged pleading eyes. “Yes what…anything, please help me!”. Sarah and I exchanged glances, I personally didn’t think it was going to be that easy, but it was, she was desperate. There was a silence as I looked her up and down. She was pretty, tall, long blonde waves potentially still in the dress from the night before. Needed her makeup tidied up, but she was perfect.
“I think we all know what will happen to you in jail, it’s needless to say that it’s simply not an option for you…. So my friend and I here can make your problem go away if you agree to be our model…?”. Sabrina looked up puzzled?? “Porn?? I’ll do it, I’ll do anything. Sarah looked at me then her, “kind of…. so are you in?”. “yes.. yes I’m in!”
“Good, that’s settled, now get in the chair” I instructed before nodding at my shining pride and joy. She looked a bit puzzled, “that one??” she referred to my red cushioned barbers chair. “Yes that’s the one…” I replied matter of fatly. The penny dropped…’are…… are… you going to cut my hair??” She quivered. “You bet” I smiled.
Fear crept in as her hands shot to her long pony. “I cant! I just cant, my modeling contract, my boyfriend!”… she pleaded. I looked at Sarah, “you’d better call the station Sare…take her on in whilst I pack up” I resigned. “NO!!!” she screamed. I knelt in front of her quivering face… “well this is the last chance bitch, get in the fucking chair or be someone’s bitch on the inside for the next five years…”. She began to cry and made her way to my station, hardest part was indeed over.
“Can you please fix up her makeup and I’ll get ready?” I shouted to Sarah as Sabrina slinked into my throne. By the time I’d checked the connection again and retrieved some restraints, Sarah had touched up her make perfectly in readiness for the shoot.
She sat there trembling as I began to cuff her wrists to the chair with studded leather restraints. Then her ankles and waist… “Will we need this?” I posed dangling a red rubber ball gag in her site?? She shook her head left to right with eyes wide open. “Good, we are ready….” I signaled to Sarah, cameras rolling we were live….
The PPV began and our viewers were immediately exposed to the damsel bound to my chair in fear. I leaned down and looked in the lens of camera one with my perky breasts bursting out of my cat suit… “Welcome viewers… tonight we have a very special treat for you…This young lady behind me has been a very naughty girl…” I said flirtatiously licking my lips…”I think she needs a haircut, don’t you…?” I made the customary signal for snipping scissors with my fingers then blew the camera a kiss whilst Sarah panned out to show full view of the model. Glancing over I noticed on the monitor that we were at 1537 viewers, more than double of anything before. Part of me was worried that the server would crash.
“So ladies & gentleman, as usual the bidding process has started. Please place your best bid via the website for the opportunity to choose young Sabrina’s fate…”. I spun the chair to face the camera, she looked down in embarrassment. Ruffling her hair I teased, “Perhaps a nice bob?? Or something shorter..??” I teased raking my nails through her curls? “Or maybe you’re a lover of her long her and will be her savior??? Sabrina, is your knight in shinning armor out there somewhere in cyberspace?? I think more than likely not…” I giggled.
“2mins left….., 1min……, 30secs……. 10, 9, 8,7,6,5,4,3,2 & stop!….. Who is our lucky winner today???” I looked to the monitor for confirmation whilst it refreshed. I didn’t declare the winning amount publicly but she had won it with a bid of $725!
“…and the lucky winner is…..Suzie109! Congratulations Suzie, a fellow sister! How about that… Suzie, please go into the private chat-room, I’ve just sent you the link. The message board then popped up on the monitor for all streaming to see. We were now up to 2181 subscribers, an event not to be missed!
“So Suzie” I queried playing with Sabrina’s mane, “what are we doing with all these lovely curls today??” Sabrina swallowed and looked on bleakly. The dots on the screen appeared, showing that Suzie was typing her response, the anticipation was electric! “High and tight flat top… skin fade….” She finished with a smiley emoticon. “Suzie you devil! Well Sabrina… Suzie109 has spoken and unfortunately for you a military flattop is what you will be getting my love!”. She wriggled and began to protest… “Please no! Please!! I’ll do anything!! Anything but that…” she begged. I failed to mention, we also had a ‘like/dislike’ feature on the site that plotted a progressive graph during the broadcast. The graph was currently peaking, especially when she began to resist, thought the computer was going into meltdown!
“Now now Sabrina, do we need this??” I questioned again holding up the ball gag. She resigned herself. “Suzie…one more thing… you need to choose a cape for this young lady… or maybe you prefer to see her curls fall over this pretty dress and shapely figure??”. The dots began again… “Black, long, silky with tissue…” she claimed. “Ooow very precise, that we can do. Now lets get this show on the road!” The graph was still bursting with anticipation, viewers sitting at 2789.
I walked out the back to find a cape suitable, we had tons especially matching that description. “Perfect” I purred pulled a large silky gown off the hanger slinging it over my arm and striding back out to the floor with purpose. I had some sectioning clips clipped onto the inside of my leather cat-suit at my cleavage. I removed one and pinned her mane with a twist exposing her petite neck. Then a length of soft tissue was torn from my role, I held it out for the camera, “As you wish miss Suzie” I played stretching it round her neck, she winced a little in discomfort. I flipped open my biggest most opulent cape playfully like a matador holding it up to the lens for her approval. She responded with a thumbs up emoticon.
In a flourish she was gowned in the sumptuous material, finalized with a button snap. The hydraulics squealed as the chair began to bounce and rise with each pump of the foot pedal, the hem of the cape grazed the footrest, exposing only her shoes. By now the PPV was over 3000.
I picked up my comb and shears from the counter before slinking back behind the chair. I moved in closer to her trembling ear, I could taste her sweet perfume…With one hand on her shoulder I leaned in, “I’m going to give you…. a haircut that I promise you will never…ever ever…. fucking forget…” I whispered, not audible to the viewers. “You will think of me every time you sit for a haircut for the rest of your life… now are you ready to put on a show for our audience…?” I teased pecking her on the cheek seductively. She immediately pulled away in frustration. “Awww play nice..” I cooed combing through her long curls. I placed my large 6.5” shears in front of her face and snipped them open and closed them mockingly. “Time to say goodbye my love…”. Her I gathered her long pony and in one foul swoop removed about 5 years of growth. It was thrown on her black caped lap before she could even gasp. “ooow these are sharp aren’t they?? ”. Her hand instinctively when to feel the back of her head but resulted in nothing more than a slight jolt and rustle beneath the cape as her wrists were bound. “Now for some fun” I stated placing my shears down and unhooking the clippers, her eyes like saucers.
“Say hello to my little friend…” I giggled in my worst Pacino impersonation. Click and pop, tears started to well.. “Please… please no”. With one had spread over her crown I pushed her head onto her left shoulder slightly digging my nails in, I could feel her neck pulsating. The vibrating clippers kissed her right cheek before sliding upwards and beginning their first pass. She tried to resist but didn’t really have much room to move. The path was harsh and visible as I flicked my wrist causing the shoulder length curls to spill onto her shoulder then the floor surrounding my 6” Manolos.
Tears rolled down her cheek as pass after pass revealed a stark white pelt. The guard-less clippers had soon made short work of her entire right side. Her head was tilted forward exposing her nape to the same outcome. She stared ahead into her black silky clad lap that had captured stray tresses on their southern bound pilgrimage. She had resigned herself to the shearing as she began to cooperate with my direction, the damage was seemingly done. Repeatedly running up her nape, she was peeled, the pile grew significantly at the chrome base of my chair. The cool air from the air conditioner caused goose-bumps on her freshly shorn nape as I turned her head to her right shoulder and the left side was also reduced to nothing, blonde curls strewn everywhere settling in the creases of the cape if not sliding to the floor with reluctance.
With the back and sides reduced to zero, the clippers were placed back on the rack. The sound of razor sharp shears once again filled the room, combing and snipping, combing and snipping. The length on top was re