A Real “Karen”

If you listened to the neighbors, she was the meddling mother-in-law from down the road who always had an opinion, always had a glass of wine in her hand, and never seemed particularly happy. Retired, divorced, sixty-five, and carrying the bitterness of both those labels around like a heavy purse, she often looked like she had given up trying to impress anyone.

Her short gray hair certainly suggested as much.

It was usually uneven, flattened on one side from sleeping, and cut into a practical style that seemed designed more for convenience than appearance.

Jack had heard all the stories. He had also seen her plenty of times visiting her daughter’s house, arriving with grocery bags, complaints, and occasionally a bottle of wine. Most people avoided conversations with Denise if they could help it.

Then one afternoon he saw something interesting. Denise walked into Great Clips. Jack was passing by the front of the entrance.  Being more than a little fascinated by short hairstyles, Jack couldn’t help but be curious. He waited a few minutes before heading inside himself.

From a chair across the salon he watched as the stylist draped the cape around Denise and got to work. Nothing dramatic happened. After all – Jack’s short hair addiction, well fetish, had him sitting himself for a quick clean up, a chance to see the frumpy bitch get her hair cut.

The stylist simply took an already short haircut and made it shorter. The sides were clipped close. The back was tapered. The top remained a few inches long and somewhat shapeless.

When Denise stood up, the result looked practical, slightly masculine, and completely forgettable. Jack figured that was the end of it.

About ten days later he ran into her again. This time she was sitting alone at a local bar nursing a glass of wine.

He almost walked past.

Instead, he nodded.

“Evening.”

Denise glanced up.

“Sit down if you’re not afraid of getting trapped in conversation.”

Jack laughed and took the empty stool beside her.

To his surprise, she wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as her reputation suggested. Underneath the sarcasm and complaints was a woman who had clearly been hurt by life.

Her divorce had been ugly. Retirement wasn’t nearly as comfortable as she’d imagined. Money was tighter than people assumed. By the second glass of wine she was talking more openly.

“So you’re a Great Clips guy I see, I go there when I see their $8.99 specials, I mean they’re not the best around, but it’s cheap. By the way, on the subject of hair, I really love your wife’s haircut, it always looks so cute.”

Jack smiled.

“She likes it short.”

“Very short.”

Denise swirled her wine.

“I’d love to keep mine looking decent, but salon visits add up. These days I mostly go when somebody mails me a coupon.”

Jack nodded.

Then she asked a question.

“So where does Gail get hers done?”

Jack chuckled.

“Funny thing. I do most of it.”

“You?”

“I take care of hers about every other week, the clippers up the back and sides. She handles the front.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”​ she said…

Now she looked intrigued. The conversation drifted to other topics, but Jack noticed she’d filed that information away. A few days later a text message. It was Denise.

“I have a strange question.”

Jack smiled before she even finished.

A week later he found himself standing in Denise’s kitchen with a set of clippers.

She looked nervous. The cape was secured around her shoulders.

“I just want it cleaned up some,” she said.

“That’s what everyone says.”

The first pass of the clippers immediately made her eyes widen. Hair drifted onto the cape.

“That’s shorter than I expected.”

“You told me to trust you.”

“No, I told you I trusted you.”

“Same thing.”

By the end of the evening the practical haircut she’d wanted was there – slightly shorter than she’d had in the past.

The sides clippered slightly. The back was clean and sharply tapered. The top was reduced to a short textured layer.

When Denise looked in the mirror she was pleasantly surprised.

It was slightly shorter than anything she’d worn before. She turned her head from side to side. Then laughed.

“Oh, my daughter is going to think I’m back on the dating scene.”

“You hate it?”

“No.”

She smiled. For the next several days she received exactly the reactions she expected. Many compliments. And something unexpected happened. She started carrying herself differently. The new haircut felt intentional rather than neglected.

People noticed.

More importantly, she felt confident.

A few weeks later Jack saw her back at the same bar.

This time she wasn’t sitting hunched over her wine. She was laughing. Smiling. The haircut had softened and grown out slightly, but it still looked sharp.

“Your fault,” she said as soon as he sat down.

“My fault?”

“I’ve gotten more compliments in three weeks than I got in the previous three years.”

Jack laughed.

“I’ll take the blame.”

The conversation flowed easily. Much easier than before. The bitter woman everyone warned him about seemed to be fading away. Not completely. She still had opinions. Still rolled her eyes at half the world. Still complained about politics, grocery prices, and reality television. But now there was humor mixed in with it. And she seemed genuinely happy whenever Jack was around. A few days later she sent a text.

“Busy?”

“Depends.”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“I want to go shorter.”

Jack laughed.

“How much shorter?”

“Come over and find out.”

When he arrived, Denise already had a cape waiting.

The confidence that had been missing weeks earlier was impossible to miss. This time there was no hesitation. No nervous questions. No second guessing.

The conversation started, a few glasses of wine and Denise became quite frisky, poking jokingly at Jack’s penis as he wrapped the cape around her neck.

“God Jack, Gail is a lucky gal, that cock of yours is a dream.” her hand now inside his gym shorts grasping with both hands. “I’m so sorry Jack, I shouldn’t have done that – you and Gail are great friends and I crossed the line.” Denise said as Jack slowly tilted her head forward.

“Quite alright Denise, no harm no foul, but yes I do love my wife, so we’ll keep it civil and between the lines – I mean, I can still help with your cuts, at least you’ll save some money.” Jack now reaches for the machine and flipping the switch.

Today Jack had brought reinforcements. His large and in charge Oster 76 clippers with all the guards.

Tonight’s cut would be a quick one. Jack knew he was now in the driver’s seat and he took full advantage of the situation.

The first few runs up her nape peeled her hair off and left only skin. The triple 000 guard firmly pressed against her scalp leaving her white scalp nearly bald. Her head firmly in his grip, Jack skinned her like a brutal prison cut. By the end of the session she was wearing an ultra-short high-and-tight with a small flat top that emphasized her strong features. Jack had fantasized this his entire life. His short hair fetish had controlled many aspects of his life for as long as he could remember. And now, a chance for him to unleash the beast in him.

He clipped on the 1.5 guard and from front to back, ran the machine across the top of her scalp, ending in a tight horseshoe flattop, a lnding strip ready to land the Space Shuttle.

Jack thought the transformation was astonishing.

Denise studied herself in the mirror.

Turned left. Turned right. Then dropped her head.

“I never would have imagined this. Neither will my family, they’re definitely going to think I’ve lost my mind.”

Yet there was no anxiety in her voice this time. Just anger. Disbelief.

“What the fuck did you do Jack, I’m almost bald, damn you – I mean… ” Denise was livid as she rubbed her nape trying to revive any stubble that was left.

“I’ll get my tools and leave now, I’m certainly not going to tell my wife about your frisky hands, and by the way, my lips are sealed around your daughter too. She would be devastated you tried to make a move like that, I mean I try to help save you a few bucks and your cross the line.” he said as he placed the clippers in his bag and began to leave.

“And by the way, I’ll need to keep you skinned at least every other week from here on Denise, from now on, that horseshoe flattop is going to your identity, we’ll just call it The Shoe!” he said cracking a faint smile.

“I’ll never let you near my fucking…. ” she said as Jack walked out and left.

She sat at the table, another glass of wine wondering what in the fuck just happened.

A week or so had passed and Jack noticed her car next door, her daughter’s husband was grilling out that afternoon.

‘Let’s walk over and say hey Gail, I see Denise is over – grab a bottle of wine, I know she’s much more tolerable when she’s tipsy,” They both laughed.

Denise was on the phone as Jack, Gail and Cindy, her daugher were talking.

“Yea, I don’t know what got into mom and the whole hair deal, she said she was just sick of dealing with it and decided to go super short, but dang, I don’t know what in hell she was thinking – I mean, can you say Army haircut? At least it’s starting to grow out some, I mean what the hell?”

They all chuckled and a few minutes later Jack walked past Denise sitting by herself on the sofa inside.

Jack walked over from behind and slowly placed his hand on her nape.

“Hey girl, I hear your daughter was kinda taken back with your new look. I’ll be over around seven later tonight, I’ll need to clean this fucking mess up. I mean, your hair grows like weeds. I think every other week will be way too long between cuts, plan on seeing me a few times a week. And don’t worry, those clippers are like a diesel engine – the more they work, the better they cut. I’ll see you shortly, and don’t fucking be late – I’ll only have a few minutes, so be sitting in the chair ready.”  As Jack rubbed her nape and walked out.

“Leaving already mom” Her daughter said as Denise walked out with her keys. The whole crowd gathered in the yard  – Denise hugging everyone.

“I need to pick my prescription before the store closes at 7, I’ll see you all later.

Denise walked out. 7pm was only an hour away.

At 7 sharp Jack walked in to see Denise sitting in the middle of the kitchen. He walked over, plugged the clippers in and when it roared to life, she simply dropped her head.

He didn’t say a word, 5 minutes max – she was skinned tight. She sat in the middle of the kitchen, hair all over her shirt, he didn’t even bother with a cape.

The final blow came when he walked her over to the parlor area, had her lie down face up on the ottoman. With her head slightly hanging off the edge he slowly inserted his stiff member down her throat. Again, not a word spoken. And just like that – a throat fucking for the ages –