The Morning After

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The Morning After

By JimB    ©opyright July 2018

 

Jenna rubbed her head. It was smooth and clean.

She was bald.

The crowd that watched her march triumphantly to the chair, to be shaved, cheered as masses of blonde tendrils fell to the floor.

The euphoria of the moment would live in her mind forever.

The cheers from the crowd had given her a new found confidence in her appearance.

She had a lovely jawline that now stood out as her most prominent feature. Her angular head looked splendid without hair.

Jenna was thrilled.

The men in the crowd, and not too few women, had elbowed up toward her in hopes of rubbing her shorn, shaven and salved head. It was a brilliant five minutes she spent on stage.

It felt like an eternity to her.

It felt like, for a little while at least, she was the center of attention.

She had traveled to Kansas City to be part of a video taping of haircuts and head shaves.

She was nervous as she got off the plane.

She felt knots tie themselves on top of other knots in her stomach, as she hailed a cab.

She almost turned to run, when she arrived at the address she’d gotten from the e-mail.

The check had cleared and she knew the money was pretty good.

She would be able to spend her final semester at college just studying.

Her student loan and the check, from headshave.net, would make her last days in college comfortable.

She wouldn’t have to wait tables.

So, she went through with it.

Her mouth fell open when she saw the first girl walk on stage and get clippered down to a marine-like high and tight. She was obviously a veteran of these shows.

She knew how to vamp for the camera like no one else could. She sat stock-still at some points and bobbed her head to the techno drone at others.

Clearly loving every stage of the shearing.

The next up wasn’t nearly as experienced, and easily as willing.

Jenna watched her hesitate between steps toward the chair.

The crowd coaxed her with hoots and shouts.

The video cameras and lights disappeared as the scissors flew through her hair.

Snips here and there reduced her mountain of red curls to a pixie cut in a matter of seconds.

Jenna gulped, knowing her turn was coming.

If she wanted out, she’d have to return the check and try to get her job back.

Plus, she’d have to pay for the flight to and from Kansas City, something she could not afford to do.

One of the stagehands gave her a glass of wine, an Australian red that tasted warm on her throat and smooth in her stomach. It calmed her some as she watched Terra in the chair.

She was a thin, Italian girl with ravishing hair and flawless features.

Her eyes had that haunted, dark beauty and an “oh just shut up and do me, dammit” matter-of-factness to them, men would be powerless to her demands.

Terra nodded as the stylist spoke to her.

The crowd was stunned when he removed the guard from his clippers and mowed away her raven locks, starting right down the middle.

A near hush fell across the people as they saw Terra, looking smooth in black leather pants and a silky, sensuous, top walk toward them, stop and turn letting the whole room see her newly naked scalp.

As she turned to walk away, they saw the tattoo on the back of her head.

She’d done this before.

And, she was obviously confident in her walk and in her new/old look.

Terra walked past Jenna, winked as she walked by.

“You’ll love it,” she said, her New Jersey accent more sexy than off-putting.

She pulled her fingers across her naked skull, a squeak emitted as she did.

Jenna laughed nervously.

“You think so?” she asked in passing, not expecting a response.

Terra stopped, walked up to Jenna and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

Jenna’s eyes grew wide, an ear-to-ear grin appeared and the butterflies disappeared.

The next girl on stage was getting her blonde haircut into a super short bob cut.

She sat there, almost ashamed of herself for “chickening out” of going all the way.

The stylist was sweet, comforting and told her that no one would force her to shave if she didn’t want to.

The crowd hooted and hollered at the finished look.

A long slender neck was exposed, and the hair was sliced blunt at the jawline.

She looked pretty.

Terra kissed Jenna’s cheek, nudging her, giving her encouragement.

“Trust me, it’s true,” Terra said, her perfume matching the smell of the lotion on her glistening head.

Jenna walked up, not sure if she could go through with this.

She looked back at Terra, she was rubbing her scalp, moaning and grinning back at Jenna.

“Okay, let’s go,” Jenna said as she sat down.

“Are you ready?” the stylist asked.

Jenna nodded, seeing nothing but Terra.

Terra was everything Jenna wanted to be, confident, sleek, chic and knock-down-drag-out gorgeous.

Plus, Jenna had just learned a secret from Terra.

A secret she wouldn’t share with anyone else, but one she knew.

And, it was one she was about to discover was true.

“Better than sex,” Jenna thought to herself, she saw Terra nod again.

The clippers roared up the back of Jenna’s neck, ridding her of five years of growth.

Five years of growing out the Rachel cut her pals had talked her into in high school.

They hummed and purred near her ear, the excitement rumbled inside her. She felt a breeze over her ears.

Her temples were naked and exposed.

Her head was quickly being denuded.

It would, in a matter of a few minutes, be as smooth as her ass.

The feature Jenna was always most proud of.

Terra clapped off stage as Jenna began to look nervous.

Inside her, sexual pleasure was busy fighting for supremacy with the fear of the unknown.

Fear lost.

And, how fear lost.

Jenna bit her lip, almost to the point of drawing blood.

The crowd noise became a dull hum in her ears, as she got lost in the moment.

She looked down to see the big black cables that she’d stepped over to get in the chair.

Above her was a boom mic, looming large and casting a shadow just past her feet.

Several men with cameras were jockeying for position, swirling around her in some sort of dance. A well-choreographed dance, where the cameras majestically caught each pass of the clippers on film.

Jenna got up after the clippers had worked their magic, after the warm towel had been wrapped around her head, after the last traces of anything remained on her scalp.

She was bald, completely clean and glistening.

The nice, middle-class girl was now a different sort of person entirely.

She just didn’t know what.

The crowd roar echoed again, Jenna felt like a princess walking to the end of the stage.

She heard all the whoops and howls. It made her immediately love the new look.

She touched her head for the first time and felt a shudder to her soul.

She looked up, beyond the lights and cameras to see her self in a mirror, bald.

Regal and bald!

Her face was so prominent, so soft and feminine.

The crowd was still erupting.

Terra was off to the side, smiling at her.

Jenna was in heaven.

Jenna rubbed her head. It was smooth and clean.

She was bald.

The crowd watched her march triumphantly to the chair to be shaved cheered as masses of blonde tendrils fell to the floor. The euphoria of the moment would live in her mind forever.

The cheers from the crowd had given her a new found confidence in her appearance.

She had a lovely jawline that now stood out as her most prominent feature. Her angular head looked splendid without hair.

Jenna was thrilled.

It was a brilliant fifteen minutes she spent on stage. It felt like an eternity to her.

She wondered to herself as she walked out of view if she’d still feel the same way tomorrow?

The next girl up knew how to get the crowd reacting.

She mocked fright and ran from the stage only to return laughing.

The crowd erupted.

Jenna felt the arms of Terra wrapping around her.

“When I wake up tomorrow, will I regret this?” she asked Terra.

“You’ll know in the morning,” she replied, rubbing her own smooth pate.

The next day Jenna woke and wandered over to the bathroom mirror, she was still half asleep, as usual.

 

She scratched her head, like every morning and was shocked awake at the memory of what she had done.

 

Her eyes were wide. She rubbed her still smooth skull.

 

After a long, slow stare, a smile came across her face.

 

“Still smooth,” she said.

 

Her smile grew wider, “Smooth and sexy.”

 

She opened the cabinet, reaching for the can of shaving cream.

 

 

A smooth ending         By JimB    ©opyright July 2018

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