kinkysnips
This is a continuation; Read Part 1 Here!
SCENE 7: The Salon
Lucy pushed open the large glass door and held it open for Tom as he followed her into the salon. This was the first time Tom was visiting this salon which was bustling with activity. It consisted of six chairs and three washing stations. He noticed all the chairs were occupied and three more women were waiting for their turn. Two of the chairs had significant piles of hair on the floor around them. He stood there in the doorway, momentarily frozen witnessing the scene.
“Hey, hello? I am holding this door open for you” Lucy chuckled and asked him to walk in
“Oh yes..um..sorry I was just..chuck it” he escaped the conversation
The young receptionist who greeted them was the first man that Tom observed at this place. He had expected there would be more men which could help him think of this haircut as a casual affair. Now he felt like they were a couple who went for this haircut experience together as a couple. The receptionist talking to Lucy broke his anxiety inducing chain of thought. He stood there
“Hello, I am Andy. You must be Lucy?” he smiled at both Tom and Lucy
“Hi Andy, I am Lucy. I had a missed appointment at 1 pm. The other receptionist with asked me to come back after 15 minutes.”
“Yes, she told me about your appointment delay. Please take a seat. It’s your turn next when any chair is free, unless you have a preferred hairdresser”
“No, its been long since my last visits. But I would like someone who has experience with short haircuts” she glanced at Tom as she uttered those words
This fell like thunder on Tom’s ears and he wanted to barge in to the conversation to take control but he could not
“I guess most of our staff has a good experience of that now. You see, many clients have been opting for short hair this summer. Kindly wait for you turn and let me know if you need anything” he assured Lucy she would be in good hands and left
SCENE 8: Drumroll
Both of them sat down on the sofa near the reception desk. It gave them a clear view of the activity inside.
“WHY did you ask for a hairdresser for short haircuts? I can’t take this” Tom said in a low tone trying to hide his desperation
Lucy noticed he was getting anxious and held his hand
“Tom look at me. why is this affecting you so much? Its just hair”
“But its your hair! It is gorgeous and I love it! I have imagined how amazing it would be to cut it short but now that it may happen, I feel sad. It is looking heavenly today.” he said trying hard to hide the red flush that came over his face
“So what do you want me to do? Look how damaged my hair is. If you like my hair, you better help me keep it healthy at least” she held an entire section and showed him the split ends which ran over more than a couple of inches
He did notice significantly damaged hair but also couldn’t ignore that it still looked beautiful. He wondered why women had to always get haircuts when the hair looked most attractive. Maybe that is the cause he got this fetish, he wondered.
“I’m not saying you should not take care of the damage. Just don’t do anything to tease me and then regret it later. It takes time to grow hair this long, right? So why hurry?” now he was gathering some of his composure and he felt proud of the logical argument he put forward
“Would you like me to just get a trim then?”
“No, I don’t want you to do anything because I say so. You can decide your own hairstyle. I am just warning you to give it a proper thought”
“Okay then it is time for you to stop freaking out like you did. I need my friend with me, not a nervous baby. I understand your emotions must be all over the place because its a fetish. Look I care about you and your opinions. Lets do something both of us like. After all, we do spend our days together. I wouldn’t want you to not like what you are looking at all day” she chucked and teased him
Tom nodded in approval and both of them smiled at each other and he felt quite comfortable. He wondered why is it that the few others he had shared his fetish were so judgmental and negative about it. Maybe teenagers are not that mature, he thought. The insecurity of his fetish had not even let him tell Simone about it. Lucy was the first person who was so accepting about it. The attraction element due to the fetish aside, he felt blessed to have a friend like her
Lucy too was feeling quite relaxed with Tom. This day felt extremely special as her friend’s admiration for her was revealed. Although she didn’t share the fetish, she did feel genuine excitement about it. She loved her hair which had been kept long since she moved out of her parents home. Her mother had it cut short every summer and Lucy had actually enjoyed these major annual haircuts. This also had left her wanting long hair and as an adult, it had been over 10 years of long hair. She felt like this was the right time to switch things.
Scene 9: Negotiations
Both of them sat next to each other witnessing the activity inside. Two women were getting their haircuts. One of them had got a significant trim, as evident from the floor full of dirty blonde hair. The other woman was getting a blunt bob.
“She still has a lot of hair even after a huge trim. That’s what happens when you don’t trim hair regularly.” Lucy said
“Hmm” Tom just nodded
“And the she has a bob which was my go to hairstyle during school. I miss having hair that is easier to manage. My mom used to get my hair cut short every summer.” she held her hand horizontally over her cheek to show Tom the length she was referring to
“Okay. That’s very short.” he said trying to seem indifferent
“I want short again.”
“How short?” he quizzed
“I don’t know. But I do want a new look and something easier to manage. Do you have any suggestion?”
“I do but….” he closed his eyes and sighed
“Calm down. Tell me quick because its my turn soon” she held his hand
“I want you to go short but in stages. I love your hair and I’d like to see you in short hair as well. Now since these two things can’t happen at the same time, I would like you to get a significant haircut but also something that leaves room for another haircut in a few months.”
“Okay I’ll tell you the options I was considering this morning. Tell me which one you like best.” Lucy started showing him the images she had saved
Short blunt bob like the one Lucy had back in school
Tom’s eyes widened as he found out that she was considering an ear length bob. That certainly was a bit too short that he had imagined.
“I had no idea you came prepared for this level of change. I’d like if you get a 8-10 inches off. Something that is a couple of inches longer than the long bob but shorter than the medium length.” he glanced at the long light tresses that curled up in her lap
Scene 10: Who’s in control?
“Who’s next?” one of the stylists asked Andy as she helped the woman who got the bob with her belongings.
“It’s me” Lucy said even before Andy responded. He nodded and they had now met the stylist who was going to cut her hair. She seemed like a woman in her 40s and had an air of confidence around her. She had her hair in a tight bun. Tom imagined her hair must have been long and thick for the bun to be that voluminous. She smiled and both of them and signaled she would be with them in a moment.
“Hello, I’m Joanne” she said with a firm tone, or that was how it seemed to poor Tom, who was trying his best to seem calm.
“Hi, I’m Lucy” she smiled
“So, what are we doing today?”
“Haircut”
“Okay. Please have a seat on the second chair. I’ll be with you in a moment.” she pointed towards the chair and Lucy got up and started walking as Tom was still seated near the reception.
“Sir, you can take a seat there.” Joanne smiled at him and pointed to the couch behind the first three chairs.
Tom felt shivers run through his body as the stylist had just offered him the best seats to witness his dear Lucy’s haircut. He wondered what she thought of them. Whether she could see what was going on through his mind at that moment. As he walked towards the couch, he told himself that she asked him to move because that was just the waiting area and technically, he wasn’t waiting anymore. That helped him somewhat and now he turned his attention to the gorgeous blonde in the chair in front of him. The long waves seemed a lot longer as Lucy was seated. The backrest of the chair was hidden by the thick mane.
They glanced at each other through the mirror and their eyes met, both of them feeling very intimate in that moment
Joanne walked towards them with a black folded cape in her hands and a set of shears, scissors, clips and combs strapped on her waist and stood behind Lucy.
“So, what kind of haircut do you want?” Joanne got straight down to business as she ran her fingers along the length of hair, seemingly examining it
“Well, I wear my hair long usually but I was thinking of going shorter this time” she quickly glanced to check on Tom who was now pretending to do something on his phone
“How short do you want to go? Any particular hairstyle that inspired you?” Joanne had gathered most of Lucy’s hair, twisted it and was holding it in her fist, just before she could put a clip to put a cape around Lucy
Tom looked at it and wondered if the stylist is having a lot of fun feeling all that hair she’s about to cut off
Lucy showed her the options she had considered
“Actually, I would not want to go very short this time as there’s a risk of not liking it. I was thinking maybe a shoulder length bob is a good idea” Lucy added
“Mmhmm, why are you getting a short haircut apart from the fact that you need change?” Joanne enquired
“Well, I am someone who often keeps my hair tied because I like it to be out of my way at work. Getting a shorter haircut shall definitely help me manage it better I guess.” Lucy said comfortably. Tom wondered how she could be so casual when she’s about to get a major haircut.
“I understand you now. You would like a shorter easy to manage hairstyle with an option to wear it long occasionally. Is that right?”
“Ah yes, that’s right. Do you have a suggestion?”
“Oh yes. I was thinking about a long bob with an undercut. Would you be open to that? The sides and the back would be very short.”
“Very short?” Lucy was caught off guard
“Yes, quite short. It’s a very popular hairstyle these days and our clients with such undercut hairstyles are happier managing their hair.” Joanne said in a reassuring tone holding and gently pressing on Lucy’s shoulder blades
Tom and Lucy both had now realized that Joanne was the one in control of the situation and they could still do something about it but they couldn’t
“Can I see a picture?” Lucy enquired in a slightly subdued tone. She always wore her hair in traditional styles and this style seemed too funky to her
“Sure, give me a moment” Joanne started browsing her phone and leaned so that Lucy could see. She opened a folder named ‘Hidden undercuts’ and asked Lucy to take a look at th pictures
“We’ll cut the sides and the back for one of these looks when you decide to tie your hair up. Other times. you’d be sporting a simple long bob” Joanne continued as Lucy sat in stunned silence.
Lucy now felt the need to get Tom involved and just before she could ask him for help, Joanne turned towards him and laughed.
“Sir, why don’t you take a look at the pictures I just showed her. Maybe she could use some help deciding.” she smiled and handed him the phone
“So, what do you think?”
“Oh wow! Haha! That is very short!” he tried hard to seem casual about it. Joanne didn’t give him the most pleasant smile in return
Lucy was gazing at him through the mirror and her eyes said it all. Although she acted all tough for any short hair, she had now realized that it was perhaps too late. She couldn’t even ask Tom to get involved because this stylist probably knew Simone. They were not to give an impression that there was anything more to friendship between the close office colleagues.
“Well, it is short but it would suit her beautifully. Don’t you think?”
“It would, but its such a big change. I don’t know if she feels ready for that” he was now trying to salvage the situation.
“Wait!”
Joanna starts using the phone
“Here, this is the best option. Why didn’t I think of it before?” Joanne is using her phone.
SCENE 10: The Secret Plan (Sat)
“Can I see that picture?” Lucy asked again, her voice wavering slightly. She felt like a passenger in a car speeding downhill—excited but terrified.
“Actually,” Joanne said, pulling her phone from her apron pocket, “I have the perfect vision. But I think it’s better if he approves it first. He seems to have a keen eye for detail.”
Joanne walked over to Tom, shielding the screen from Lucy. She tapped on a folder and held the phone directly in front of Tom’s face.
“This is what we’re doing. It’s the only way to fix the damage and give her a real style,” Joanne whispered. “It’s bold.”
Tom stared at the screen. The image showed a stunning, severe transformation—a high-contrast cut with a shaved neck and a steep, dramatic angle. It was bold, architectural, and incredibly short.
Tom’s eyes went wide. He looked from the phone to Lucy’s waist-length hair, then back to the phone. The difference was astronomical.
“That… that is short,” Tom stammered, his heart rate spiking.
“Is it a yes?” Joanne raised an eyebrow, challenging him.
“Yes,” Tom breathed out, almost involuntarily.
“Good.” Joanne pocketed the phone before Lucy could glimpse it. “It’s decided. Trust the process, honey.”
SCENE 11: The Harvest (Sat)
Joanne wasted no time with pleasantries. She didn’t wash the hair; she wanted to cut it dry to handle the bulk. She combed the massive golden mane straight back, smoothing out the waves.
“First, we’ll get need to remove the thick mass,” Joanne stated clinically.
She divided the hair into three thick, heavy pillars: one behind the left ear, one behind the right, and a massive central section at the back. She secured each tightly with an elastic band right at the chin level.
“Tom, a little help here,” Joanne commanded.
Tom stood up, his legs feeling like lead, and walked to the chair.
“Hold this,” she ordered, pointing to the back ponytail.
Tom reached out, his hand trembling as he grasped the thick, warm rope of hair. It was heavy, dense, and soft.
“Usually, clients cry over this kind of length, or they want to bag it up for donation,” Joanne said with a sassy roll of her eyes, flicking the end of the ponytail with her comb. “Personally? It’s just dead protein to me. But since you’re the ‘supportive friend,’ you can be the shelf. Don’t drop it.”
She positioned her large shears right above the elastic band, flush against the nape of Lucy’s neck.
CRUNCH.
The sound was visceral—wet and heavy. The scissors chewed through the thick bundle. It took three strong, deliberate bites. Suddenly, the tension released, and Tom was left holding a severed, fourteen-inch tail of gold. Lucy’s head instantly lifted an inch from the sudden weight loss.
“Side,” Joanne barked.
She spun the chair. Tom moved to the left side. He grasped the ponytail near Lucy’s cheek. Joanne angled her shears from the earlobe diagonally down towards the chin.
Snip. Crunch. Sever.
The second bundle fell limp in Tom’s grasp.
She spun the chair again to the right. Tom awkwardly clamped the third section between the fingers of his already full hand.
CRUNCH.
The final curtain fell. Lucy was now stripped of her length entirely. Tom stood there, clutching three massive, severed bundles of hair that smelled of her floral shampoo. Lucy sat in the chair, looking shockingly exposed, her hair now a jagged, chin-length mess.
Tom clutched the three tails in his fist and felt the combined thickness. It was one thick wavy tail. All the hair that he has admired and styled on so many occasions. He quietly turned back and sat down, glancing once towards Lucy and then looking at the silken mass of hair that spilled into his lap.
SCENE 12: The Undercut (Sat)
With the massive length gone, Joanne let out a breath and wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist.
“Okay, the heavy lifting is done,” she said, her voice returning to a normal conversational tone. She picked up a spray bottle and misted the short, jagged hair at the nape. “You have an incredible amount of hair, Lucy. I’m going to have to go really short underneath just so you don’t overheat in the summer.”
She didn’t wait for permission; she just tilted Lucy’s head forward.
“Comfortable?” Joanne asked.
“Mmhmm,” Lucy hummed, staring at her lap where her long hair usually rested. Now, she just saw the black cape.
Joanne pulled out her comb and scissors. There was no fanfare this time, just the rhythmic snip-snip-snip of the scissor-over-comb technique. She worked efficiently, moving up the nape of the neck.
Tom sat quietly, watching the process. The silence in the salon allowed his mind to wander. He found himself staring at the pile of hair in his lap, then back at Lucy. He remembered a specific day last winter—the office Christmas party. Lucy had worn a backless dress, but nobody knew, because that thick, golden curtain had covered her entire back. He remembered watching her laugh, the way the light caught the waves as she turned. It felt like a lifetime ago.
Lucy caught his eye in the mirror. Her expression was soft, perhaps thinking the same thing. She gave him a tiny, brave smile. The connection was palpable—a shared mourning for the old Lucy, and a shared thrill for the new one.
“My mom used to cut my hair like this,” Joanne said idly, breaking the silence as she carved a tight taper around Lucy’s ears. “I cried for a week when I was twelve. Then I realized I could beat all the boys in races because I was more aerodynamic. Never grew it back.”
Lucy chuckled, her shoulders relaxing. “Maybe I’ll run faster on Monday.”
“You definitely will,” Joanne laughed. “Okay, look down.”
She brushed the loose hair from Lucy’s neck. The undercut was done—clean, velvety, and skin-tight.
SCENE 13: The Stack (Sat)
Joanne unclipped the top section. The damp, heavy hair flopped down over the freshly buzzed nape.
“Seriously, the density is no joke,” Joanne muttered, shaking out her hand. “If I don’t stack this high, you’re going to look like a mushroom.”
She began to cut. This wasn’t a performance for Tom anymore; it was just work. She pulled a section of hair at the back, elevated it, and chopped. Snip.
Tom watched the mechanics of it. He saw how she cut the hair shorter underneath and left it longer on top, forcing the hair to curve inward. It was fascinating to see the shape emerge not through magic, but through geometry.
“Do you remember the day we went to the windy beach?” Lucy asked suddenly, looking at Tom in the reflection.
“Yeah,” Tom nodded, shifting the ponytails in his hands. “You spent twenty minutes trying to untangle your hair afterwards.”
“I was so annoyed,” she laughed, the sound vibrating against the scissors near her ear. “I guess I won’t have that problem anymore.”
“No,” Tom said softly. “I guess not.”
Joanne moved to the sides. She over-directed the hair back, slicing it in a sharp line. The floor was now covered in a secondary layer of wet, inch-long snippets that coated the earlier dry piles.
“Almost there,” Joanne said. She grabbed her texturizing shears and went to town on the ends, thinning out the bulk so the hair would sit flat. She worked quickly, moving Lucy’s head side to side, checking the balance.
SCENE 14: The Reveal and Departure (Sat)
The blow dryer roared to life. Joanne used a round brush to smooth the hair, rolling the ends under into a sharp, internal curve. When she clicked the dryer off, the silence in the salon felt heavy, broken only by the sound of other stylists’ clips.
Joanne spun the chair around. “All done.”
She grabbed a broom and began to sweep. The amount of hair on the floor was staggering—a chaotic mix of the long, dry strands from the initial chop, the dark dust of the undercut, and the wet, heavy chunks from the stacking. It looked like enough hair for two separate people.
Lucy stared at herself. The cut was severe, beautiful, and undeniably bold. The back was high and tight, showing off the graceful line of her neck, while the front dropped into sharp, lethal points at her chin.
“I have… a neck,” Lucy whispered. She turned her head side to side, watching how the short hair swung perfectly, then settled back into its sharp lines. She ran her hand up the back, her fingers sliding up the prickly, velvet nape and hitting the heavy ridge of the bob. “I look fierce, don’t I?”
“No,” Tom said, his voice barely a whisper. He was still sitting on the couch, clutching the three heavy golden bundles. “You look dangerous.”
They walked to the front desk. Andy, the receptionist, looked up and beamed. “Wow! What a transformation. You guys look like you’re ready for a serious date night. The husband’s patience definitely paid off today!”
Lucy opened her mouth to correct him—to say they were just colleagues—but she caught Tom’s eye. She saw the blush on his face and the way he was holding her old self in his hands. She simply smiled. “It was worth the wait,” she told Andy.
Tom paid the bill, fumbling with his card while refusing to let go of the hair. They stepped out into the cooling Saturday evening air.
SCENE 15: The Drive Home (Sat)
Lucy unlocked the green sedan. “You okay to ride shotgun? I think I need to drive. I have all this new energy.”
“Of course,” Tom said. He sat in the passenger seat and carefully placed the three long ponytails on the dashboard. They sat there like trophies, the setting sun catching the gold in the strands.
As Lucy backed out of the space, the movement of her head was different. There was no heavy swing of a ponytail, just the sharp, clean movement of the bob.
“Tom?” she said softly as they hit the main road.
“Yeah?”
“Check if it’s even. In the back. Under the weight.”
Tom reached out. His heart was hammering. He placed his hand on the back of her head. His fingers disappeared under the cool, smooth silk of the bob and pressed against the warm, fuzzy texture of her shaved nape. The sensation of the “prickly” taper against his palm was an electric shock. He let his fingers linger there for a moment, tracing the line where the skin met the velvet hair.
“It’s perfect, Lucy. It’s… incredibly soft,” he managed to say.
Lucy leaned her head back into his hand for a brief second while stopped at a red light. “It feels so strange. I can feel the heater in the car hitting my skin. I haven’t felt that in years.”
They reached Tom’s apartment building. The streetlights were flickering on, casting long shadows. Lucy kept the engine running but turned to him.
“So,” she said, nodding toward the dashboard. “What are you going to do with those?”
Tom looked at the three golden bundles. “I don’t know. Keep them safe, I guess.”
“Good,” Lucy said, her eyes glinting with a new, sharp confidence. “Joanne was right. I don’t want that weight back. You keep them. Consider it a thank-you gift for getting me through the breakup… and for today.”
“Lucy, I can’t—”
“You can. Just… keep them out of Simone’s sight, okay? I’d like to keep my best friend.” She laughed, a free, unburdened sound that seemed to match her lightened head.
Tom gathered the hair into his arms. He felt the weight and the silkiness one last time before stepping out onto the curb.
“Monday is going to be a shock for the office,” he said, leaning into the window.
“Let them be shocked,” Lucy grinned. She reached out and squeezed his arm. “See ya, Tom.”
He watched the green sedan pull away. He stood there on the sidewalk, a 31-year-old tech consultant holding three severed ponytails, watching his friend drive into a new chapter of her life. He looked down at the hair, then up at the stars. The cooling evening air finally beginning to settle his nerves. The taillights of the green sedan vanished around the corner, leaving him in a pocket of quiet suburban silence.
He looked down at his right hand. The three golden ponytails were clutched tightly in his fist, the combined mass spilling over his fingers like a heavy, silken waterfall. It was strange; only hours ago, this hair was the most defining part of Lucy’s identity. Now, it was a warm, fragrant bundle of “dead protein” that he was carrying through the night.
As he began the short walk to his apartment building, a wave of intense relief washed over him. He thought of Simone. She was still in Portland, likely finishing up her client meeting.
”Thank god,” he muttered under his breath.
If she had been home, this would have been a disaster. There would have been no way to explain why he was walking into their shared home with fourteen inches of their friend’s hair. He wouldn’t have been able to explain the lingering scent of Lucy’s floral shampoo on his palms or why his heart was still racing at the memory of the buzzed skin on her nape. He would have had to hide them immediately, panicking, losing the peace of the moment.
But tonight, the apartment was empty. He didn’t have to be a tech consultant or a partner; he could just be a man with a secret.
He climbed the stairs to his floor, his grip tightening slightly on the golden trophies. The weight of them was comforting, a physical reminder of a day where the boundaries of his world had shifted. He reached his door, fished out his keys with his free hand, and stepped inside.
He closed the door and leaned his back against it, the quiet of the dark living room wrapping around him. For the first time all day, he didn’t have to hide anything.
He looked down at the hair in his hand, then up at the ceiling, exhaling a long, slow breath.
”Best. Weekend. Ever,” he whispered to the empty room.
THE END
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