Celeste’s Salon (Part Two)

[This is part two in a series. You can find part one, and other little stories I’ve written, by clicking on my author page.]

 

They say find a job you love and you’ll never work a day in your life. I always thought that was kind of a bullshit phrase, but if I’m being honest, that is how I feel as a person with a hair fetish who owns her own salon. It’s hard work, but I never get tired of it. Not even the simple things, like a trim or a blowout. Hair is so meditative to me.

I was working on a regular client’s hair that morning. She’d gone through a breakup recently and told me that she was ready for a change. Her hair fell in riotous red curls around her shoulders and I convinced her to get a bob that landed halfway down her neck. Watching my shears feast on a good eight inches of copper curls sent my blood pumping. I watched red tendrils fall as I cut each—on her cape, the ground around her. I was wearing sandals and some of her soft hair landed on my foot.

“You’re going to want an undercut, probably?” I suggested as the weight of her hair became even more apparent at its shortened length. “To get rid of some of this bulk?”

She looked up at me, quizzically. We hadn’t talked about an undercut, so I had to do my best to try to convince her as I presumptuously sectioned out a parting for a high undercut—one that went all around her head, an inch or so above her ears. “Your hair is so thick, I think this is the best option,” I said confidently.

“Um, yeah, maybe…” my client reached up to touch the hair that was on the chopping block. “Oh wow, it’s already so much shorter than before.” She pulled her fingers through the short length.

I plugged in my clippers while we were talking, and considered whether to put an attachment on. I decided it was unnecessary. “I think I’ll just go with no attachment on this clippers, OK? That way you won’t have to come in for a touch up as fast.”

She nodded nervously, “Yeah, yeah. I guess that would make the most sense.”

I smiled and then told her, “Ok, head to your chest now, dear.” 

I held the top of her hair firmly to make sure it was out of the way and also to remind her, in subconscious manner of course, who was in charge here. “This will only take a few minutes,” I reassured her calmly as I plunged my clippers up the back of her skull, revealing the barest hint of red it its wake. More red hair tumbled down her cape and I blew on her neck, watching her do her best to suppress a shiver.

As I watched more of her buzzed scalp appear under each pass under my hand, I had a brief, but sharp flashback to the night a few months before that I couldn’t get out of my head. Jen and Nathan, the couple who came into my shop. How he’d commanded her to cut off her long blonde hair. How it felt to play a role in their sexually charged dynamic…I couldn’t get it out of my head. It was sparking a desire deep inside of me.

Finally, I pulled my client’s head back up and ran my clippers up her sideburns and through a particularly beautiful natural ringlet, watching as they fell with a thud to the floor.

She was looking in the mirror and I could tell she was a little upset but also knew that she looked amazing.

“Bangs, I’m thinking. They go so cute with little undercut bobs like this,” I was saying when the front door of the salon opened and in walked a familiar face.

“Nathan,” I said, turning my attention to the man. Had he been reading my thoughts?

“You remember my name,” he said, grinning all the way to his eyes.

“You were a memorable appointment!” I said. “How’s Jen? It’s been several months since her last cut. Is she growing it out?”

“Four months. It is getting quite long,” he said. “A little mullet-y, honestly.”

“Well the mullet is coming back,” I said, trying to keep my tone professional in front of my client, who was lifting her hair up and feeling her undercut with her hands, her eyes big with shock as she felt her scalp for the first time. Nathan and I both looked at her and then caught eyes, a subtle knowing passing between us.

I know he thinks this is hot, but does he know I do too? I wondered.

“We prefer more of a clean look, overall,” he said. “Which brings me to why I came by. I was wondering if you ever make house calls? I think it would be great to surprise Jen with a cut right at the house. A color too, if you have time. We live pretty close, just a few blocks down.”

He wants me to come to his house? Warring feelings of danger and excitement swirled deep inside me. Logic didn’t answer that day, the aching inside me did: “Yes, I can make house calls.”

We arranged for me to go over that night at 8 PM. As I cut micro-bangs on my client that she didn’t explicitly ask for but looked fabulous, I glanced outside and realized that Nathan was smoking a cigarette, watching the whole scene. We locked eyes and I swear to god he winked at me before dropping his cigarette to the ground, smashing it with the heel of his boot, and picking it up to put in the trash and walking to his car.

****

It was just a haircut. Why then did I feel the need to go home, take a shower, and put on a cute little dress before I went over to Nathan and Jen’s? Why did I feel the need to fix my own hair so that it waved perfectly to waist?

I parked a few houses down from the address that he’d given me, my heart pounding in my chest. I could still leave. I didn’t have to go in there. But I felt like a force outside of me compelled me to pull my keys out of the ignition, open the door, smooth my skirt down against my thick thighs, and walk up the front steps of the beautiful craftsman home.

Before I could knock, the door opened. It was Jen—looking flushed and nervous. Her dirty blonde hair was definitely in need of maintenance, the clips that she was using to try to appear presentable did little to hide how shaggy and unkempt it was.

“Oh, hi. Celeste, right?” Jen said. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Nathan appeared at the top of the dark wooden staircase. “Jen, this is your surprise tonight. Celeste is here for your haircut. I found out she does house calls.”

I gestured my travel case of supplies in her direction.

“Haircut? I was hoping to grow my hair—“

“No sense in not trying a few different styles while it’s so short, right babe? And short is such a good length to try new fun colors.”

“Color?” Jen said with big eyes, looking up to her boyfriend. “Yes, I guess you are right,” she said and looked back at me. “Thanks for making time, Celeste. And for coming out here.”

I walked into the foyer and feigned all the confidence I could. “Where are we setting up?”

“Follow me,” Nathan said to us both and we followed him into what looked like the master bedroom and into the en suite bathroom, where he’d set up a tall stool.

“Jen, I think you should take off your clothes so you don’t get hair all over them. You don’t mind, do you, Celeste?” He looked at me, as if challenging me to protest.

I lowered my eye contact and began spreading my implements on the bathroom counter. Scissors, clippers, clips, combs, a blow dryer. “No, not at all. Feel free to get comfortable.”

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Jen stepped out of her jeans and lifted her t-shirt over her head. Where I am tall and curvy, she was tall and thin and looked a little sweetly vulnerable in her baby blue underwear—she wasn’t wearing a bra at all and I did my best to avert my gaze away from her small but beautiful breasts. Nathan kissed her on the temple and led her by the hand to sit down on the stool facing their big bathroom mirror.

Attempting to retain a sense of professionalism, I barely looked at her while I draped a white cape around her, adjusting the snaps at her neck, musing on how much easier it was to do now that he hair was so short compared to the last time I had this woman caped.

“So,” I said as I pulled the bobby pins and clips out of her overgrown pixie. “What are we doing today? Same as last time?”

“Actually—“ she started.

“Actually, we’re thinking something shorter,” He smiled. I loved his teeth when he smiled and I loved the salt and pepper color of his hair. With a shiver I tried to suppress, I remembered watching she refer to him as “Daddy” when they thought I wasn’t watching after her last haircut. He was the dictionary definition of a daddy—dominant and masculine and sensual. Both of the people in this couple aroused me—Jen’s hair and Nathan’s energy.

“Shorter? Do tell,” I said, running my hands through Jen’s abbreviated crop.

“We were thinking a crew cut. Short all over. Just enough left to bleach and then dye.”

Jen looked at him with pleading eyes and he just ruffled a hand through her hair like she was a petulant child and then looked at me. “What do you think, Celeste?”

“I think that would look really good on you, Jen. A really nice choice.” My palms were sweating. “What color were we thinking? I’ve got all the normal colors. And of course if you want to go with a more unusual color…pink, green, purple, blue, orange?”

“Oh we were definitely thinking unusual. I’m thinking pink. Like a pale pink crew cut.”

Jen just nodded, clearly terrified.

I couldn’t believe that I was going to be buzzing this beautiful woman’s head, this woman whose haircut I’ve already been ruminating on for weeks. Nathan hopped up to sit on the sink to get a front row view. Their bathroom, which I’d barely had time to take in, was enormous, with a huge clawfoot tub and walk-in shower and two sinks.

I plugged in the same Osters that I used on the redhead undercut from earlier that day. I remembered her suddenly because there were a few red hairs left stuck in the blades. I cleaned the clippers quickly, thinking about the luck of my day. Two dramatic transformations on two beautiful women. Nathan seemed to be reading my mind, “I got to watch you work for a bit today, Celeste. You were so involved in your work you didn’t seem to see me watching for a long time. But that redhead today. Wow. Quite the chop you gave her.”

I was blushing as I fumbled a bit to put on the #2 attachment to my clippers. “Yes, she just went through a breakup and wanted something different. Haircuts can be symbolic in that way, I suppose.”

“I think you liked doing it,” he said. His voice was deep and gravelly. Not loud. He had the kind of voice that made you want to lean in to listen.

“Well yes, I do like my job. Are you ready, Jen?” I flipped the clippers on and she visibly jumped.

“I think it’s more than a job to you, Celeste,” he said as I plunged the clippers into his girlfriend’s hair, right down the center of her forehead. “I think you LIKE it. I think it turned you on to chop off all those red curls. Watch them fall to the ground. Talk her into an undercut that she didn’t know she needed. You made it so short, too, right? You gave her bangs she didn’t ask for.”

Jen’s hair was no match for my powerful clippers. Row after row of dishwater blonde hair removed from her scalp and replaced with the shortest stubble. Tears were pooling in her eyes as she watched her shearing in the mirror, the remains of her shaggy pixie cut piling up on the floor. I couldn’t meet Nathan’s eyes as truth spilled out of his lips, truth that I’d never talked about with anyone else in the world. I just listened to his words as I surrendered to the trance of haircutting, my arousal brewing as I stole more and more hair from this woman.

He continued. “I think you got off on chopping my girlfriend’s hair all off. I think you’re getting off by shearing her now.”

He jumped down from the counter and walked behind me, so close I could feel his breath in my ear, feel his erect cock in his jeans against the tight black fabric of my dress. He placed his hand over my hand that had already buzzed half of Jen’s hair and together, we buzzed the rest it. I felt him grind against my ass as my arousal built and he whispered things in my ear, like “I knew this turns you on. I knew you want this. You’re such a good girl, Celeste. Cut her hair nice and short.”

“It’s time to do her color,” I breathed out, worried for a moment that maybe Jen was not going to be cool with her boyfriend grinding against me. But no, her eyes were cloudy with arousal now too. I turned off the clippers and we all took a moment to look at the transformed woman in the mirror. Nathan and I were both pleased and aroused and Jen was shocked and we all took our time running our palms over her freshly denuded scalp.

“How does that feel?” I asked her.

“Weird,” she said. “It feels alien.”

“You look hot,” Nathan and I said at the same time, and laughed.

Mixing and applying bleach to her hair didn’t take long at all, given how little of it was left. While it was processing, I felt a little vulnerable and exposed. I started to clean up a little bit to keep my hands busy.

“I think you two should kiss,” Jen said. “I want to see it.”

“What?” I asked, flustered.

He just looked at me, his hazel eyes full of heat. I could barely keep his eye contact, but he came closer, and closer, and before I could register what was happening I was wrapped up in the kind of kiss where you leave the planet for a bit—the kind that makes you feel high and wrapped up in someone. His long arms surrounded me, one hand squeezing my ass and the other hand fisting my long hair. Firmly tugging on my hair, he whispered in my ear, “I know you want to cut your hair too. I think you’ve been waiting for someone to tell you to do it.”

I pushed him off and said, “I need to check her hair.”

Her bleach needed a few more minutes, but I needed some distance. I knew he was right. I knew I had been longing to cut all my hair off, somewhere deep down for a long time. But I wasn’t ready, right?

After I rinsed her bleach out, I applied her pink dye. “Have you ever dyed your hair?” I asked her, trying to steer the conversation back into a realm of comfort.

She shook her head. “Some highlights, a few times. But nothing crazy.”

“Change is good,” Nathan said from his new perch on the edge of the bathtub, his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms propped up behind him. “Don’t you think Celeste would look good with a nice short haircut, Jen?”

She looked a little shy but answered, “You’d look good with any hair.”

I smiled, “That’s so sweet coming from you. You’re beautiful.”

“It’s funny how hair takes so long to grow but it can all be cut off in a matter of minutes. How much longer does Jen need to keep the pink dye in?” He asked as I finished up this round of the dye process and cleaned up all my bowls and brushes.

“Probably about twenty minutes.”

“Plenty of time to get rid of all that hair, Celeste.”

I self-consciously ran my hands down the lengths of my own hair. “I don’t know, I’m pretty attached to it.”

“But you’d look so much better without it. You have a face that nothing should obscure.” He walked back over to me and turned my body toward him. He grabbed the hem of my dress and began to lift it upward. “You can tell me to stop at any time,” he said. But I couldn’t. The fog of my arousal made my legs heavy. I lifted my arms obediently to let him pull my dress over my head. I was wearing a black bra and panties and my hair fell over my body like a brunette Lady Godiva.

Nathan looked me in the eye and said, “What I’m about to do is…I’m about to get on my knees and absolutely worship that pussy of yours. But between the three of us, you’re the hairstylist. So what you’re going to do while I make you come is you’re going to cut off all that pretty hair of yours. You hear me, Celeste? You are going to do what I say.”

I couldn’t say anything, positively exposed standing in my bra and panties in the middle of this strange couple’s bathroom, debating whether I should chop my beloved hair off. Nathan handed me my shears, and then like he said he was going to do, dropped to his knees in front of me. He pulled my panties down and began to go down on me, an expert combination of tongue and hands. I felt my knees buckle as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“Cut,” he took a break for a second to look up to me before getting back to his work. I brought the scissors up to my chin, but I wouldn’t bring myself to clamp down the metal. He pulled back after a moment and said, “Jen. She needs help getting started. Cut the bulk of her hair and then she can go in and refine it.”

“What?” I breathed out, lost in ecstasy with only periodic moments of clarity.

She smiled sweetly and eagerly took the scissors out of my limp hand and took her place behind me. I am tall but she was even taller, so she was at a perfect height for the task. “Don’t cut my hair,” I breathed out halfheartedly.

“What was that?” She asked deviously as she began chopping right below my chin, allowing my beautiful hair to fall all over me and her boyfriend, who moaned against my pussy every time more of my tendrils fell around him. The vibrations of his moans and the sound of chopping sent me over the edge into an otherworldly orgasm. As I came briefly back down to earth, I looked in the mirror and saw a sight that would be burned into my memory forever: me, flushed and moaning, with a beautiful woman with pink dye in her super short hair gleefully slicing my hair and one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen going down on me, my hands clenching his soft hair. Half of my hair was still long, but Jen made quick work of it. The sound and image of her just chopping through my remaining locks sent me over the edge into a second orgasm. I almost fell to my knees from the strength of it, but they both held me up as I went limp in their arms, mounds of my dark hair all over the bathroom.

When I finally regained my senses, I had a rough bob swinging just under my chin. I sat on the chair and took my time snipping around it to even it up and add texture, feeling giddy about how cute it looked and how good it felt. With my dark bob and my lacy black lingerie, I felt sensual and French. My hair felt light and every time I shook my head, the short length tickled my neck, and I knew that every time I felt it, I would remember this night. This was already the shortest I’d ever had my hair—it was several inches shorter than when I had to chop it in beauty school.

Nathan was gently washing the pink out of Jen’s hair in the sink, whispering something in her ear as she smiled.

It took just a few seconds for me to blow-dry her super short buzzcut, but she looked incredible. Badass. Like a totally new person. I ran my hand across her head and asked her “How does it feel?”

She leaned into my petting sweetly. “Maybe you should get this haircut too, so you can see for yourself.”

Nathan chimed in, “That’s a great idea, baby. What do you think, Celeste?”

“This is enough for me, thank you though. It’s quite a big enough change.”

“For tonight, anyway,” He said, tugging the short strands of my bob as I moaned.

****

At home later that evening, I couldn’t sleep, so I went on YouTube and searched for some haircutting videos. Scrolling down a bit, I gasped when I saw a thumbnail—I was in it! Well, it was an image of me cutting hair. Jen’s hair. The footage that Nathan had taken that first day we met in the salon?? The video had tens of thousands of views.

I clicked on the video and watched, touching myself as I was transported back to that day. It was like an out of body experience to watch alternate angles of the cut, to be able to rewind particularly good moments and relive them again and again. I scrolled down to the comments to see what people were saying.

Lots of people bemoaning the loss of her long, beautiful hair. A lot of people saying they wish she’d been shaved to the skin. A lot of people saying she looked so much hotter and better with the short hair. And then…an interesting series of comments.

-I want that stylist to take charge and chop my hair off!

-Someone needs to cut off that stylist’s hair. Much too long.

-You can tell the girl cutting her hair was really enjoying herself…

And then, somewhere deep in the comments section, was a reply from the original poster, Nathan. A comment written tonight. “Don’t worry,” it read. “Celeste didn’t keep that hair for long. Her video will be coming soon.”

I slammed my laptop shut and paced around my apartment, feeling so mad, and so violated. He’d recorded me? I caught a glimpse of my new hair in the mirror and even through my shock, arousal poured through me. I guess my secret was out now, and if I was honest, I didn’t want to go back into hiding.

I took out my phone and text Nathan.

“I want a cut of the money you make from these videos,” I wrote. “I saw how many hits you got from the last one you posted. That was MY work.”

I could see the “…” show up on his phone and then disappear a few times before his reply came through: “I had a feeling you would be on that side of YouTube. ;)”

“I can be your hairstylist. Let’s work together. We can film all kinds of transformations. You know I get it.”

He wrote back, “Let’s talk.”

I drifted off to sleep shortly after, dreaming about hair and wondering where this new path was going to lead me.

 

[Thanks everyone who left positive feedback on Part One of this story! I really appreciated your comments. I hope you enjoyed the sequel.]