A Visit to Vesper (Bettina Bobs her Hair)

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One:

There wasn’t much that scared Bettina Ess. She loved to travel widely and often, from her beloved Alps to the Andes and back again. She was a woman who faced her fears, both personal and professional, and came out the other side changed but unbowed. Though she lived a comfortable life and was blessed with wit, wisdom and striking beauty, Bettina was not one to leave that life unexamined or unexplored.

If Bettina was honest with herself she relished and craved a type of fear. That feeling in the pit of the stomach and the internal voice that pushes one ever further onwards despite every instinct screaming to cut and run. She exulted in it. Particularly when it came to her kinks. Bettina loved living in 2040s’ Zuri.

Ever since the devolution of the city states in the former Switzerland ten years ago the cultures between them had become more and more disparate. Zuri had retained an element of Germanic severity but also blossomed with a kind of hedonism only previously seen in Weimar Republic Berlin over a century earlier.

Almost everything was socially accepted here, often flaunted, and she relished the confluence of the city’s libertine mores with her own proclivities. Bettina loved to be restrained, submissive, open to delectable punishments and just enough pain. Zuri’s nightlife was only too pleased to oblige.

Bett smoothed her hand along the tight sheen of her high-waisted pants and fastened the buckles on her thigh-high leather boots, smiling absently as she stroked the stiff, gleaming armor encasing her calves. They matched the thin harness lingerie, intentionally visible beneath her crisp white shirt. Her high collar was rounded with a lace trim and and she buttoned it snugly around her long slender neck, hiding the lingerie’s attached leather choker. Bettina felt a little thrill as she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

A summer training regime had paid off, though not without some trademark single mindedness. She loved the way she looked; with a frame that was tight but not hard, lean muscles moving beneath her designer apparel. Her appearance during her self-imposed boot camp had gone rather neglected and she felt like she had emerged into her true self this autumn. There was just one more part of her that needed attention. Hair!

Her hair, ay there’s the rub. It was a deep seated kink she never admitted to anyone. This fetish always seemed too personal to broach with her lovers. If she were to ever explore it, Bettina knew there would be no putting the genie back in that bottle. She held up the shining mass of her black hair, sleek and heavy, and brushed her hand lightly up her exposed neck, her full lips parting.

When she was younger Bettina felt that her facial features were too exaggerated and even a little mismatched on her teenaged oval face. As a woman of twenty-nine years she had grown into her defined nose and wide, expressive mouth with its bee-stung lips. She continued to study her reflection with large, heavy-lidded feline eyes which flashed from near black to hazel in the low evening sun. Delightfully constrained in tight black and white, she turned slightly and tried to imagine herself with the hair she had always dreamed of. Just like countless times before she squinted at her reflection and willed herself to see a blunt, shiny cap of hair, bobbed just too short just above a perfectly shaved nape.

Without giving herself time to rethink, she picked up her phone and confirmed her appointment at Vesper, the members only salon and cocktail bar in the middle of town. She had lost count of the times she made an appointment at a salon only to cancel a couple of days later, snapping out of her fantasy with a tap of her finger. The appointment was confirmed now and her account would be charged anyway. She could go along, have a cocktail, enjoy a head massage from one of the lovely assistants and ask for a little trim and a blow dry as she had done last year around this time. Or, or…. She felt herself become wet. After carefully dampening her mane of hair she applied some high-shine gel through the roots.

She slowly worked the brush through her hair and slicked it straight back. It seemed to push her gorgeous features even more to the fore. After tying her hair tightly at her nape she quickly made a thick plait over her shoulder and smoothed the end with a little more gel. It curled invitingly on her right breast.

Vesper was an entirely delightful place, gleefully styled after 90s goth clubs, with a strong Art Deco aesthetic. Bettina was afraid of it. Deliciously so.

Two:

Bett’s sharp heels clacked on the frosted pavement as she rose from the cab. She pulled the oversize collar of her long leather coat close around her and fastened the jacket’s belt. Vesper’s logo was radiating red in the chill dusk. She smoothed back her already immaculate hair and flipped her long braid in front of her shoulder. For perhaps the last time, she teased herself. She took a deep breath and strode, lithe and shining, inside.

A sub-bass throb punctuated by glissando strings greeted her ears as she stepped inside. The club was expansive and open-plan. A large rectangular bar dominated the left side of the space, all underlit black marble peppered with stools. The right side was a black and white tiled marvel with at least a dozen old fashioned barbers’ chairs, huge in front of starkly lit mirrors. Bett’s pulse quickened as she too casually took in the uncannily beautiful salon staff, gliding to and fro among the clients.

Bett turned her attention to the bar. She was an hour early for her appointment. All the better to admire the gorgeous staff, their clientele and their transformations. She figured she’d have a drink, loosen up, tease herself some more with what she could ask her stylist to do to her and then get her usual trim and blow-dry. Exciting enough but with the stakes kept low. As her eyes grew accustomed to the combination of directional light, gloom and flaring brass fittings she was all but stopped in her tracks by a girl nursing a drink at the bar. Bettina judged her to be five or six years her junior and the admiration was clearly mutual.

They made eye contact and smiled slowly at one another. The girl swiveled round towards Bettina and motioned to the neighboring stool. She held out a hand. “Sophie” she said in a voice that was deeper and more breathy than Bettina expected. They clasped hands. “Bettina. Can I buy you a drink, Sophie?”

Sophie was breathtaking. She was petite but possessed of a full figure bound in tall leather boots and a fine mesh catsuit that had to have been made for her. It accentuated every curve, did nothing to hide two prominent nipple rings, and came to a halter top. Her shoulders were lightly tattooed. Loose and glossy chestnut curtains tumbled from a small forehead, framing a button nose. Her hair was exquisitely cut in a heavy bob that rose from below her chin to the middle of her neck. Her lips were impossibly full, adorned by a ring piercing the middle of the lower lip  which accentuated a habitual pout that was almost indecent in its immediacy. Bettina imagined the metallic tang of it on her tongue.

When she finally managed to tear her eyes away from Sophie’s lips their eyes locked once more. Her’s were a clear and inviting green with long lashes and bold, tastefully shaped brows. Bett distractedly handed her coat to a silent member of staff and perched at the bar beside Sophie.

Sophie Lee was half Brazilian, half Korean and had moved to Zuri a year ago. She mentioned she liked to sing and had just finished rehearsals with a band at the jazz club next door but seemed coy when pressed for further details about herself. Bett didn’t mind – it added to Sophie’s mystique and provided her with a rare opportunity to talk about herself. Sophie was interested and engaged, asking questions and laughing softly when Bett was characteristically self effacing. Her deep brown waves tumbled and fell about her face as she shook her head or giggled. As she combed her fingers back through her hair she stretched and breathed deeply, never breaking eye contact.

It felt good to be out, enjoying herself with somebody so sexy and intoxicating and in her enjoyment Bett had almost lost track of time. Her appointment was in ten minutes. She flushed as she explained to Sophie that she had to go next door for a while. Sophie’s eyes widened and she parted her lips in a radiant grin. “You’re getting a haircut? Nice! Your hair looks gorgeous right now but you’d look incredible with short hair.” Bettina shifted in her seat and toyed with her braid. “You think so?”, Bett asked, the slightest quiver in her voice. “Of course – You’re stunning!”, said Sophie, still smiling. She raised an eyebrow, “You could get a haircut like mine…” With that, Sophie turned and lifted up her deep chestnut waves slightly and exposed a tightly faded undercut at the nape of her neck.”

“I’ve always wanted to,” confided Bettina. She didn’t know why she was telling someone she had just met. Perhaps that made it easier. “I definitely have a kink for short hair, Sophie. I so wish I just had the guts to go through with something like that. Sometimes…” Bettina faltered and continued in a lower voice. “Sometimes I wish someone would just decide for me and cut it. The shorter the better.” Bettina was not given to blushing but she did so for a second time that evening. Sophie reached out and stroked Bettina’s hand gently. It felt at once thrilling and entirely natural. “You’re gorgeous, Bettina. Maybe you’ll get your wish one day. Go on, you’d better go get your haircut. I’ll be here.”

Bettina steadied herself and stood up. She leant in to Sophie’s ear, close enough to smell her light, sweet scent and whispered “You can watch if you like.” Bett felt Sophie’s eyes on her as she left. She swayed her hips as she went, endeavoring to give Sophie enough of a show to ensure that she was going nowhere until her return.

Three:

The assistant that greeted her was an unusually pretty guy in his early twenties. He was tall, slim and lovely in a long white shirt and tight leather trousers with his strawberry-blond hair cut in a sharp bob that further emphasized his androgyny. He smiled at Bettina, crinkling his deep blue eyes. “Welcome Miss Ess. My name is Alex. I’ll be taking care of you until your stylist is ready.” What luck, thought Bett.

Alex led Bettina across the tiled floor to a series of curtained fitting rooms with high, illuminated mirrors. They regarded each other’s reflection. Bettina had to admit that they looked stunning – she in her severe, stiff cotton shirt, neatly tucked in to skin tight pants, he in a looser, flowing white shirt over what actually looked to be the same pants. Alex pushed his sharply cut hair behind his ear. It was just long enough. “Would you like to select a cape Miss Ess?” He gestured to the selection beside them.

Bett’s gaze immediately alighted upon a black latex cape hanging next to Alex. She took two steps towards him, exhilaratingly close now. Alex obviously felt the attraction too and his pants did nothing to hide it. Bettina reached a languorous arm up, brushing past Alex’s soft waves and took the garment down. It looked to be around knee-length with buckles up the back and a heavy rubber neck detail. Perfect.

Bettina deliberately left the fitting room curtains slightly open as she unbuttoned her shirt and Alex couldn’t help but watch. She slid the shirt off revealing a harness that both bound and supported her in all the right places and left her erect nipples exposed. She slipped the heavy rubber around her neck, over her thin leather choker and looked through the curtain at Alex. “Tie me up?”, she said with a bewitching smile. Alex flushed and croaked something obliging. He pulled the straps from the base of Bettina’s neck to the top of her thighs firmly into the buckles which pulled her shoulders back and bound her arms lightly to her side. “Tighter please, Alex.” Bettina said in a low voice. Alex was only too happy to oblige.

She couldn’t back out of the appointment now without causing a scene but she could still just ask for a trim, couldn’t she? Bett loved to tease herself like this.

Bettina loved getting her hair washed. The feeling of attention and care that sensuous fingers on her scalp gave her was second only to the feel of her luxuriant hair being stroked and combed out, ready for a deep conditioning treatment. The cutting gown was deliciously tight around her and it stretched over her form such that nothing of Bettina’s athletic figure was left to the imagination. The knee-length latex had slits up the side which left her hands free and allowed her to walk. She sashayed slowly over to the sinks, letting the glossy material glide over her skin.

Alex’s clever hands unfurled the smooth coils of her braid and worked his fingers through the roots of her hair. He slowly, slowly brushed the gel’s residue out of her hair, leaving it soft and shining down her back then gathered it up, gently pulling her head back into the sink. He bent down facing Bettina and proceeded to wash her hair with jets from the chrome shower head. Alex worked a thick conditioner into her hair and rubbed her scalp, all the while whispering in her ear about the process. Bettina was sent. She could feel the tickle of Alex’s breath and lips around her small pearl earrings alternating with the cool swish of water around her forehead and nape. Bett was completely at the willowy assistants mercy, back arched, head back, the shape of her breasts exposed. They kept their eyes on one another, intent, smiling slyly.

After the comely young assistant applied a light leave-in treatment and combed her long jet-black hair straight back and smooth, he led her over to one of the gleaming mechanical barber chairs on the edge of the salon floor. It was the closest one to the bar and Bettina couldn’t resist a look over to where she left Sophie half an hour before. Sophie was gone. A wave of disappointment washed over Bett and for the first time in a long time she felt a little self-conscious. She could see some of the bar’s patrons admiring her.

The salon floor had darkened somewhat and it cleared considerably while she was being bound and pampered. Bettina took deep breaths and made herself relax. Her hands stroked the smooth latex of the cape stretched around her and she settled into the huge chair, focusing on imagining the hairdresser she’d soon be acquainted with.

She planned to request what she usually did. Half an inch off the ends, blunt, no layers, and a straight blow-out. She always added a light-hearted “Unless you have any better ideas,” caught between hope and dread that one day someone would. Maybe some drastic ones. She stroked the leather of her pants, tight over her pussy. Bettina heard someone approach from the shadows on her right. The smack of leather boots on tile. She turned her shining head and her breath caught in her throat. Her chest tightened, she felt ice fill her belly, her sex started to throb. Bettina’s pulse raced as she watched Sophie approach out of the salon’s darkness.

Four:

Sophie was glorious. She was still in her fine mesh catsuit which had taken on a deep purple hue in the lights of the station’s mirror. Her hair made Bett’s mouth go dry. She had slicked it straight back with some kind of high-shine pomade and tied it tightly at her occipital bone. Her new hairstyle revealed a tight skin-fade undercut halfway up the sides of her head, round to where had secured the small, thickly curling tail of her top hair. Sophie smirked and took Bettina in. “Hey Bettina! Sorry – I can’t resist a surprise,” she chuckled, “As soon as you introduced yourself I remembered your name from my appointments book. I really hope you don’t mind!” A tinge of anxiousness colored Sophie’s luminous green gaze. Bettina laughed nervously, hoping that Sophie didn’t recall all of what she mentioned at the bar.

“No, no of course not – you got me! So you’re a hairdresser as well as a singer?”

“Yeah – I’ve been with Sassoon since I left High school and my portfolio seemed to really impress the management here, so I kind of landed on my feet. I mean, I really have, with clients as beautiful as you coming to see me!”

“Oh my god, Sophie, you’re even more gorgeous than you were in the bar. Your hair is so hot like that”, Bettina blurted, instantly chastising herself.

“It keeps it out of the way when I work”, shrugged Sophie, “That’s what I tell people but it isn’t the whole truth. I love the feeling of my little ponytail tickling my nape, especially like now when it’s freshly shaved. I just had the fade freshened up while you were having your time with Alex. So – still want hair like mine, Bett?” Sophie’s smile was radiant as she clasped her hands together and looked expectantly at Bettina.

Bettina never stammered. She was always so deliberate with her speech. She chose her words carefully and prided herself on her rich, measured speaking voice. Apart from now. “I, I mean…I really don’t know, I…” This was so close to her wildest dreams as to be a nightmare.

“Sshh Bettina, it’s ok – take a breath,” soothed Sophie. Her pouting lips filled Bettina’s vision. “I’ll do it if you want me to Bettina.” Sophie leant on the station’s worktop, swiveled the chair round and smoothed back Bettina’s wet shining hair behind her, blinking languidly. “If you want me to, you don’t have to say anything. If you want me to stop, just say ‘Sophie, stop’ and I will”. Sophie turned the chair again. She caressed Bettina’s cheek and looked deep into her eyes, cupping her chin. Bettina felt so wonderfully scared. Terrified, even. This was the fear she craved, she needed.

Sophie carried on slowly, “If I cut your hair short, everyone will see. Everyone will know you wanted it that way and it’ll be too short to hide. Everyone will know about your little fetish!” Bettina opened her mouth to protest but Sophie carried on, calm, breathy. “Bettina, I know. I’m the same.” She ran her hand up the bare skin of her high fade and gave a shudder which turned into a giggle. She breathed deeply. “This is turning me on so much – I can’t wait to cut your hair. Now let’s have some fun!”

Bettina could feel herself slippery wet beneath the tightness of her pants and her skin pulsed around the harness lingerie that caged her. She heard Sophie snap a switch on the chair and felt a warm, insistent vibration on the seat. This was almost too intense. Bett moaned softly and her eyes started to tear up slightly. Tears of joy or panic, she didn’t know, she didn’t care. She felt high, elated, and so aroused. “I had this installed myself”, Sophie confided. I love to sit here and give one of the other stylists free reign. There’s a dial on the right hand side of the chair base – It’s at 5 right now. Goes all the way to 11!” Sophie gave a throaty laugh, clearly enjoying herself as she saw conflicting expressions scudding across Sophie’s wide-eyed, almost cartoonishly lovely face. Sophie bent down and put her lips, almost touching, right next to Bettina’s ear. “Remember”, she whispered, “just say ‘Sophie, stop’ and I will.”

“You know I won’t” said Bettina, suddenly lifting her head and brushing her lips softly over the barberette’s. It was Bett’s turn to laugh at Sophie’s expression.

Five:

Sophie quickly parted Bettina’s long damp hair, baring a thick horizontal section of hair from ear to ear over her nape. She pumped the lever on the chair and it rose smoothly. As Bettina heard the snick of scissors opening in Sophie’s hands she stretched her own hand out of the bottom of the tightly buckled vinyl, searching for the seat’s dial. Sophie combed Bett’s nape section straight and pressed her head forward. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

Bett felt the cold shears straight across the middle of her neck and heard the crunch of hair between steel. She could hear her hair sliding down the latex cape as the scissors moved inexorably across her neck. Is this as far as she’s going to go? she thought. It was already the shortest hair she’d had on her head in her life but she yearned for more. She didn’t dare hope… “More?” asked Sophie. “Mmm-hmm”, Bettina could barely choke the sound out in her excitement.

A maelstrom of her deepest desires whirled inside her head. This was a realization of things she only whispered to herself alone in the dark. Her fingers could almost reach the dial – she could feel the edge of it. Sophie positioned her shears right at the hairline of Bettina’s nape and closed them. Bett felt Sophie’s hot breath on her neck for the first time as she moved quickly, cutting a laser straight line that exposed all of her slender neck. “Shorter?”, whispered Sophie. She heard a tremble in Sophie’s voice now. Bettina’s long, searching fingers found the dial at last. She turned it up as many notches as her bonds would allow.

The chair clicked into the ninth setting and the seat began to undulate gently along with the growing vibrations. “Yes, Sophie. Please!”, Bettina breathed. She felt her body judder as the chill scissors closed well above her hairline as she sat bound, helpless and exultant, her heart racing. Sophie let the other sections of her hair down and cut them to perfectly match the uncompromising guideline then snatched up large, cordless clippers and snapped them into whirring life. She slowly, lovingly shaved off all the hair below the perfectly straight, blunt line in the glossy coal-black fall of Bettina’s hair.

Sophie gently kissed the exposed skin of Bettina’s pale white nape and she could feel the smooth tickle of Sophie’s lip ring on her newly bare skin, as cold as the steel of her scissors. Bettina could hold it no longer. She bit her full lip hard as she began to come. Sophie moved lightly and straddled Bettina, knees on the wide seat. She wrapped her small warm hands round Bettinas bald nape and slid them up to the heavy hair above as she kissed her. Their lips locked. Wet, hot tongues probing, intertwining. And Bettina came like she never had before.

To be continued…

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