Bald and Breakfast
Sarah had been looking forward to her trip to the mountains. Looking after her sister’s children during the day, and then working evenings at the newspaper was taking a toll. She had to get away.
“You know you’re leaving me in the lurch here.” Her sister had accused. “You know I’m going to have to hire a babysitter while you’re gone.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage. Besides, what am I but a glorified babysitter?” Sarah pointed out.
“A glorified babysitter that’s a lot more affordable than anyone I could hire.” Her sister complained.
“It’s a week, Helen. You’ll just have to deal. I need a break.” Sarah finally said, putting an end to the bickering.
Sarah had seen the advertising for the bed and breakfast online. She really knew nothing about the place, other than it catered strictly to the lesbian community. This wasn’t really an issue, as she wasn’t dating anyone. Not that she hadn’t wanted to, she just didn’t have the time.
As she pulled into the small parking space marked specifically ‘For guests of Egging Lodge only’ she again wondered about the name. She hadn’t thought much about it, initially, but it just seemed such an odd name for a guest house.
Sarah pulled her hair back into a ponytail before getting out of the car, tired of it getting in the way of everything she did. One of these days, she’d work up the courage to get it cut. For now, though, she was in love with it.
Sarah loved the comfort it offered, like a warm blanket over her shoulders. Everyone always told her how lucky she was to have such beautiful hair. It was a source of pride for her, but was also a pain in the ass. As she bent into the trunk to retrieve her small suitcase, she was thankful for the scrunchy that held the mass of blonde curls in check behind her.
Pulling the suitcase behind her, she admired the charming architecture of the village that sat at the end of a long lake. The mountains soared up around her, and for the first time in a long while, she felt at peace.
“Hi, I’m Sarah Winters. I have a reservation?” Sarah spoke into a small intercom that had acknowledged her knock on the door. There was the padding of feet across the floor inside, the door opened by a relatively young woman, who smiled as she observed her guest.
“Hi, Sarah. Welcome to Egging Lodge.” The woman swept her arm into an expansive hallway, inviting Sarah inside. Sarah couldn’t help but be surprised by the one feature she rarely saw in a woman. She was completely bald. “I’m Marsha, one of your hosts. My wife, Gretchen, is working, but she’ll be home later on. Have you had a chance to look around the village?”
As hard as Sarah tried, she could not keep her eyes from wandering to the woman’s hairless head. It didn’t look shaved, and that made her worry that it was something medical. She redoubled her efforts, forcing her eyes to meet Marsha’s directly.
“That’s alright, dear. It’s a different look, but both Gretchen and I love the freedom it offers.” Marsha admitted.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” Sarah offered.
“Think nothing of it. I know you’re probably used to it, but I couldn’t imagine having to deal with hair like yours again, after being free of it for so long.” Marsha took the case from Sarah’s hand and led her through the lavishly decorated house, and up a flight of stairs. “Your room is on the second floor. It has a private bath and a lovely view of the lake from the sitting area at the one end of the bedroom.” Marsha set the case on the bed and opened the curtains revealing the view. “You’re here for a week?”
“Um, yes, that’s right.” Sarah stammered. “The room is lovely. The pictures don’t do it justice.”
“Thank you. You’re on your own for lunch and supper, but we have a healthy breakfast in the dining room every morning at eight. We hope you join us.” Marsha stood in the entryway, before smiling and closing the door.
Sarah was still absorbing the stark appearance of the woman, but she had to admit that she looked stunning bald. And did she misunderstand, or did she mention that her wife was bald too? Interesting. She pulled the tie from her hair, allowing the long flowing curls to fall around her.
She had it trimmed the week before and had felt a bit adventurous when she asked her stylist to take a good two inches off the length. All that angst felt a little foolish, considering the company she was in.
She opened her bag and unpacked her clothes into the antique bureau, but it was when she carried her toiletries into the bathroom, that she came across a rather intimidating situation.
Immediately evident, was the appliance that hung from a holder at the side of the ornate mirror over the sink. Where a hairdryer would normally reside, was a rather ominous-looking set of hair clippers. ‘Well, I’ll just put those under the sink.’ she thought, but when she went to unplug them, Sarah realized that the cord simply disappeared into the wall. They were hardwired. ‘Weird.’
As she looked around, the clippers were only the beginning. On a small shelf, there was some sort of dispenser, and beside it, a rack full of several multicolored safety razors. ‘Seriously?’Pressing a black button on the top of the chrome machine, it whined quietly, producing a blob of white foam. Sarah brought the stuff to her nose, recognizing the smell. ‘Shaving cream.’
Sarah wiped the cream on a tissue she pulled from a box on the toilet, and spied another dispenser. This one held plastic bags. Curious, she pulled one of the bags from the box, noticing something printed on the side, reading aloud:
SAVE THE WILDLIFE!
Oil Spill Donation.
Hair Collection Container.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SACRIFICE!
“Oh my God. Really?” Sarah pushed the bag back into the dispenser and walked out of the bathroom, a little in shock. Was this some sort of weird entrapment, or something? Sarah flopped down on the bed. It was one thing for the women who ran this place to choose to be bald, but to thrust it so bluntly at her, seemed almost too much.
Unconsciously, Sarah ran a hand through her waist-length hair, seemingly reassuring herself that it was still there. Everything in her bathroom was all about relieving her of her crowning glory. For a moment, she seriously considered leaving.
Standing up, she walked to the back of the room, looking out over the glass still water of the lake, the mountains reflected perfectly in its surface. Could she stay here, with all…that, in her bathroom? That was the question. It wasn’t as though they were holding her down and forcefully shaving her. It was a choice, and a choice she would not be making. Sarah made the decision to stay.
She had changed clothes and was about to head out, hopefully, to find someplace to eat supper. There was a knock on her door as she reached for the knob. Continuing the motion, Sarah opened the door.
Gretchen was considerably younger than Marsha, but was every bit as bald. She had heard her correctly. Like Marsha, Gretchen didn’t appear to be shaved, but simply hairless, the gleam of her scalp reflecting the ceiling fan, which slowly spun above them.
“Hi, Sarah. I’m Gretchen.” She noticed Sarah’s purse over her shoulder. “Going out?”
“Hi. Yes. I was going to get something to eat.” Sarah explained. She couldn’t get over how stunning Gretchen was. Marsha sported her baldness well, but Gretchen seemed made for it. Her ears were tucked tightly to her scalp, and her high brows seemed to point upwards to her gleaming head. Again, Sarah seemed unable to pry her eyes away from it.
Gretchen moved closer, taking Sarah’s hand in her own, and resting her now shaking fingers against the glass smooth surface of her skull. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?”
Shocked, but politely as possible, Sarah pulled her hand back to her side. “It’s very smooth.” For lack of anything else to say. Then she asked the inevitable question. “Have many of your guests… made a donation?” Indicating the bathroom with a sideways glance.
“All but one,” Gretchen said, proudly. “We like to think we’re spreading enlightenment and freedom from the encumbrance of societal norms.” Gretchen smiled. “Helping to clean up the environment is a fortunate collateral benefit.”
“All the women who have stayed here have shaved their hair?” Sarah asked, in disbelief.
“As I said, all but one,” Gretchen repeated.
“Well, I’ll be the second, I assure you.” Sarah insisted.
“No, you’re the one who hasn’t, Sarah. You, would be the first.” Gretchen pouted. “Well, enjoy your supper. There’s a Mexican place down the street that’s excellent.” And with that, Gretchen backed out through the door and closed it.
Sarah enjoyed the restaurant Gretchen had suggested, and spent the rest of the evening walking around the quaint mountain village. It really was a slice of heaven. One thing that jumped right out at her, however, were the number of women who had gone sans tresses. There were so many, in fact, that she began to feel out of place with her long blonde hair.
Three days later, and after absorbing the peaceful vibes of the little village, Sarah was finding it difficult to resist the temptation. Could she really join the women of this place in their freedom? What would everyone say? What would her boss think? “Oh, God, what would Helen think?” ‘I know what she’d think. She’d think I’d lost my mind. Maybe she wouldn’t foist her kids on me then? That would be a positive.’ Sarah imagined.
She stood, naked, looking at herself in the mirror, the gold leaf framing the goldilocks girl, perversely staring back at her. ‘Maybe if I just cut a little off, that would satisfy this urge I’m having.’ She thought. But as hard as she looked, there were no scissors to be found.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Sarah lifted the clippers off the wall. They seemed inordinately heavy as she held them in her hands. She supposed they were good ones, ‘Oster Classic 76’ printed boldly on the business end of the things.
She looked closer, noticing how menacing the blades appeared at the sharpest end of the machine, the finest line of teeth crisscrossed each other, ready to divest anyone so bold. A simple toggle on the end spoke of function and utility, rather than design.
Bravely, she flicked the switch, and the clippers wound up like a jet engine, reaching a high-pitched whir. The blades that stood individually at the tip were now invisible, so fast was their motion.
Experimenting, she raised them to her sideburn, the volume almost too much so close to her sensitive ear. Pushing them upwards, she heard the pitch of the blades change, and simultaneously felt the cold steel press onto her virgin scalp. Suddenly shy, she pulled them away.
Nothing seemed to have changed. She flicked the clippers off, thinking she had dodged a terrible mistake. She set them back in their holder, and reached up to brush back the hair from her face, inspecting the damage.
As she did, a long thatch of hair came away in her fingers, slipping between them and falling slowly to the tiled floor. It was a lot of hair. Panicked, she lifted what remained, and was shocked to find a two-inch-wide patch of bald, white, scalp that continued almost to the part on the side of her crown.
“Oh, shit! What have I done?” She asked herself, but suddenly realizing that she wasn’t alone.
“You, Sarah, have taken the first step,” Gretchen said, encouragingly. “Now, there’s nothing left but to finish what you’ve started.” Stepping back, Gretchen allowed her long housecoat to slip over her shoulders, leaving her as naked as Sarah.
Staring at her reflection once again, Sarah seemed bolstered by the hairless woman standing so beautifully behind her. Reaching up, she lifted the clippers out of their cradle, and looked in the mirror at Gretchen. “Would you…”
“You must complete the journey on your own, Sarah.” Gretchen smiled as Sarah raised the clippers to her head, not seeming sure where to begin. “Be bold.”
Sarah flipped the toggle, shuddering slightly as the clippers whirred to life. Again, she admired the sheer beauty of the naked woman standing behind her, so close she could feel the heat radiating from her skin. She placed the blades against her forehead and without hesitation, pushed them into her blonde curls, smiling as doomed silk rolled seductively over her shoulder to the floor. The tendrils covered her bare feet, as well as those of her benefactor, who had placed a hand on each of Sarah’s hips.
The gentle touch only served to embolden her, as she brought the clippers forward for a second pass. She felt the press of the woman’s sex against her naked butt, knowing that the feeling between her legs was her reward. It wasn’t a race, but she almost seemed desperate now, forcing the clippers through her hair, leaving narrow swaths behind in her haste.
The hands that were once on her hips had found their way to the soft blonde curls that were wet with her arousal. Gretchen’s fingers slipped between the ripe folds of Sarah’s sex, toying with slipping inside, as Sarah’s hair covered their union, caught between her barren scalp and the floor.
When, at last, Sarah was satisfied with the job the clippers had done, she allowed them to fall silent. Gretchen stepped back, allowing the last of Sarah’s blonde mane to fall lifeless to the floor.
“You are beautiful, Sarah. So beautiful, and so free.” Gretchen ran her hands over the freshly shorn surface of Sarah’s jet white scalp.
“But, what about Marsha?” Sarah asked, conscientiously.
“Our marriage is an open one. It has always been that way.” Gretchen sighed.
“Then she knows that…”
“She assumes. You are alone. To do this alone, would be a lonely affair.” Gretchen reached over and pulled one of the plastic bags from the dispenser. They both knelt down, Gretchen holding open the container. Sarah cleaned up her own hair from the floor, depositing it into the bag.
Sarah tried not to think of her hair, once so precious to her, being spread unceremoniously over some oil spill, the golden curls mingling with the sludge until it was completely indistinguishable from the muck. She tried, but the thought only served to arouse her even further.
“This part, I can help you with.” Gretchen said, as Sarah dropped the bag of hair into the hamper marked, ‘donations here’. She gathered a large dollop of shaving cream from the dispenser and spread it seductively over Sarah’s stubbled scalp.
Sarah, still on her knees, pulled up in front of Gretchen, her nose only inches from her hairless sex, fragrant with her own arousal. So, as the blade began to rid her of the last of her hair, she allowed her lips to caress the naked mound.
Gretchen leaned back against the sink, opening herself, as Sarah’s tongue darted out and between her labia, coming to rest firmly against her clit. Gretchen shivered, pushing Sarah away. “I don’t want to cut you, and I will if you don’t stop.” She stilled her head. “Soon, Sarah, soon.”
The shaving was the most amazing foreplay Sarah could ever remember, the gentle caresses of the blade stroking her newfound nakedness. She swore her scalp was like one huge clitoris, so intense were the sensations coursing through her body. With the last couple of strokes, Gretchen ran the razor over Sarah’s brow, eliciting a moan of approval.
“Now, you are ready.” Gretchen trembled, excitedly.
“Almost.” As Sarah stood, she caressed the smooth skin of Gretchen’s mons, then looked down at her own dowdy bush. They traded places, Gretchen kneeling as Sarah braced herself against the porcelain sink.
“I’m afraid we can’t donate this.” Gretchen kidded. But as she swept up the blonde ‘curlies’ from the floor, Sarah had retrieved the plastic bag from the hamper, and opened it before her.
“No one will be the wiser,” Sarah said, as she watched the last vestige of hair on her body disappear into the bag, lost amongst the sheer volume of hair. She led Gretchen to the bed, so ready to know the joy of utterly hairless sex.
Marsha looked up from the street, on her way to her own rendezvous, smiling as the light went out in the bathroom window. “Welcome, Sarah.”
Mary and Isabella…?
Let me know,