City Girl

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City Girl


By Dreadlocks


I simply had to get away. The month of June had been incredibly stressful, and a literal escape from the rat race was an absolute must. There were certain perks to being made top sales executive, but with it came all the pressure of performance.

People looked up to me, not only for guidance but as an example of what to do to be successful in the trade. My underlings would often jostle to gain favor from me, taking me out to lavish dinners or showering me with gifts. The perks were certainly plentiful.

So, with the long weekend at hand, I decided to take advantage of an offer made by one of those eager young women whose family happened to own a cottage high in the mountains. Heidi had insisted upon my going, saying that the place was fully stocked, and to simply enjoy. I certainly wasn’t going to argue.

It wasn’t a terribly long drive as vacations go; six hours up through some of the most beautiful scenery I had had the privilege to see. With only a few minutes to go by the GPS built into the dash of my Mercedes, I passed through what seemed like a rather rustic-looking town. Most of the place seemed to have been abandoned for some years, with just a few businesses still thriving at the center of the main drag.

Looking down, I figured now was as good a time as any to top off my tank, the needle hovering just below a quarter tank. It was one of those gas stations, slash, convenience stores that seemed to have taken over the trade. I was the only one there.

“Can I help?” A young man asked as he leaped from his perch inside the door.

“Fill it up, please. Premium.” I ordered, adjusting the rear-view mirror so that I could assess my appearance. After refreshing my lipstick and running a brush through my shoulder-length hair, I turned to find the guy staring at me. “Everything alright?”

“Sure. We just don’t get that many city folk up here in the mountains.” He explained. He jumped slightly as the handle popped, quickly pulling it from my car and loading it back into its holder on the side of the pump. “Thirty-Two-fifty.”

I rummaged in my purse and withdrew a crisp fifty-dollar bill from my wallet. After pulling a ten from his hand, I waved him off with a generous tip.

“Thanks, lady.” He managed, before I rolled up the window and pulled away. As I re-adjusted the mirror, I caught him staring after me, a grin seeming to creep over his face. At the time I didn’t think anything of it. In hindsight, I should have.

The cottage was simply lovely, perched on the edge of a mountain stream; a waterfall set perfectly to be viewed from the screened-in porch. Heidi wasn’t lying when she said the place was idyllic. I think the closest place to it was a good mile in either direction. If I wanted peace and tranquility, this was certainly going to fill the bill.

I unloaded my suitcase from the trunk and lugged it up the small flight of stairs to the cottage. I didn’t bother unpacking, preferring to simply open it up and go hotel-style for the two days I’d be there.

A few things I took out and arranged in the bathroom, thinking that shower would be just the thing to wash the road from my hair and skin. I was annoyed when the water just never seemed to get hot. That’s when I remembered Heidi’s instructions about opening the place.

I quickly threw on a robe which was conveniently hung on the back of the bathroom door and walked to the kitchen. The small page that had been laminated to the side of one of the cabinets explained how to get the place up and going, including turning on the gas and firing up the boiler.

I wasn’t averse to a little work, but I wasn’t used to ‘roughing it’, like this. I did manage to figure it out, but it would be a good few minutes before there was anything resembling hot water.

Deciding to enjoy nature while I waited, I walked around to the waterfall, still wearing the robe, my feet bare against the cool mountain grass. I was delighted to find a small pool at the base of the waterfall, and it was obvious that people seemed to swim there. A small platform extended out into the pool, inviting me to try.

Shedding the robe, figuring that there wasn’t anyone even remotely close, I stood on the end of the dock, naked. The spray from the falls moistened my skin as I dipped a toe into the water, finding it almost too cold to enjoy.

I swallowed my good sense and jumped in, shocked momentarily by the cold. It reminded me all too vividly of a polar bear swim I had done one winter for charity. I quickly climbed out, shivering as the breeze raised goose bumps on my arms and breasts.

As inviting as the pool was, looks were deceiving. I doubted I’d be swimming there again during my stay. I grabbed the robe from the platform and hung it over my arm, not bothering to wear it. As remote as the cottage was, I saw no need for modesty.

I ran the water in the kitchen and was disappointed when the hot came through tepid. It might be a while before I could enjoy a shower. Checking the cupboards, I was also disappointed to find that Heidi’s boast of the place being fully stocked was an exaggeration. Save for a few nonperishables, there was nothing to eat.

I threw my hair into a wet ponytail and dressed quickly, figuring I could make it into town and back before night settled in. I didn’t know what the little mountain town had for a grocery store, but I was hoping that it wasn’t limited to the convenience store.

As I drove down the scarcely populated main street, I soon realized that the only place to buy anything in town was that same place. The only going concerns seemed to be a hardware store, a few non-descript storefronts, and a barbershop. In fact, the only movement in the entire town was that spinning pole that hung precipitously from the doorframe of the haircutting establishment.

I ran a few fingers sympathetically through my ponytail, the blonde locks still damp from my dip in the plunge pool. I shuddered at the brief notion of having my hair cut in such a place as that. Still, the shudder sent a twang of arousal through my loins.

I had always had a bit of a hair fetish, ever since I was little. The idea or action of someone cutting my hair, be it a trim or a wholesale chop, always sent me home with my hand between my legs. I never questioned it, figuring everyone had their own peculiar idiosyncrasies. Having my hair cut was mine. It seemed innocent enough, considering some of the strange obsessions that existed out in the world.

Sometimes, I wondered how on earth I was ever able to maintain my hair in as long a state as it was. I was never one to take the scissors to it myself, although the temptation was there, I knew better. With my position at the firm, it just wouldn’t do to appear anything but professional, and that meant a respectable hairstyle.

With a sigh, I pulled into the convenience store, parking the car along the front of the building this time. I was actually quite surprised by the variety of goods the little shop offered, even having a small produce section. After filling my handbasket with what I thought might carry me through the weekend, I made my way up to the register.

There, the young man who had attended me at the pumps stood, smirking as I approached. “Forget somethin’, did ya?” He chortled.

“Yes. The cottage where I’m staying has precious little to eat, so…” I saw no need to elaborate. It felt a little odd to be telling this kid that I was staying nearby, so I clammed up.

“You’re up at the old Fleischmann place?” He asked.

It was Heidi’s last name, but I felt as though I needed to be careful. “Sorry?”

“Never mind.” The kid said under his breath.

Just then, an older man came out from behind a curtain, eyeing me up and down as he slipped by. “Jamie! You are going to get that mop cut today, right?” He chided. I turned to look at him but realized that he was talking to the kid. Why would I ever think he was talking to me? That same nagging throb emanated from my clitoris as I quickly turned away.

“Yes, Paw. I said I would, and I will.” The kid grumbled; I think embarrassed about such an admission in front of me.

“None of that trim shit, either boy. I want it good and tight, you hear?” The man called out, as I walked out the back door.

“Sometimes I wish I could just get all this chopped off.” I have no idea where it came from, but I’d said it, and it just sort of hung there between us.

“I think old Charlie’d keel over if’n you ever walked in.” The boy blushed, his eyes wandering to my hair, which hung over my right shoulder. “Hmm, ‘sides, what would a fine-looking girl like you ever do somethin’ like that fer.” He shook his head, as he began ringing up my order.

“Sometimes…, well, never mind.” I babbled, deciding to let the subject die on the vine.

After paying and depositing the groceries in the trunk of my Mercedes, I just caught the young man as he rounded the corner, surely headed for Charlie’s barbershop.

I slowly pulled out of the parking lot and smiled as the kid disappeared through the door below the spinning barber pole. Curiosity got the better of me, so I pulled to the curb just a few doors down from the place. With no intention of actually stepping inside, I slowly made my way up the uneven pavers until I was standing outside the rustic old barbershop.

The window, which was once painted in a gold frame had a crack running diagonally through it, the guilting long since faded and chipped. A buzzing neon sign flickered noisily against the glass but didn’t stop me from seeing the boy being caped in the single chair.

An older man, who was eighty if he was a day, seemed to be the only barber. “That must be Charlie,” I whispered under my breath. There was a conversation taking place between the old man and the boy, and I was pretty certain I knew exactly what was being said.

I don’t know what came over me, but I couldn’t stop myself. I reached for the well-worn door handle and slipped inside. The scent of talc and tonic immediately hit my nostrils, and I knew I was in a very different environment than I was used to.

“Can I help you, young lady?” Charlie asked.

The boy spun in the chair, grimacing over my sudden appearance. “She’s lost. She ain’t from around here.”

“On the contrary, I’m not lost. I just thought I’d stop in and watch for a minute.” I managed, slipping into one of the four wooden chairs that lined the one wall.

“Suit yourself, Ma’am, but most folks that come in here are lookin’ for a haircut.” The old man pointed out.

Not wanting to press my luck, but feeding the urge that was emanating from my crotch, I compromised. “I may be. I just want to see the product before I buy.”

“The product?” Charlie mused, lifting a set of menacing-looking clippers from the shelf and flipping them on. The machine whirred to life, startling the boy in the chair, who seemed powerless at the moment.

I was sure it was a real kick in the pants for him to have me watch his haircut. He seemed so cocky before, but his ego was certainly in for as much of a scalping as his head was.

I watched his face as the clippers rode up the back, skinning his nape down to the bone. For an instant our eyes met, and then ashamed, he quickly looked away. Swath after swath of his curly blonde locks fell to the floor, leaving him quite bald for the most part. Only the very front of his head bore anything that might be called hair, and that was trimmed so close that it stood upright and no longer than a quarter of an inch.

He looked younger, his teenage good looks pared down to something more closely resembling a prepubescent squab. The transformation had certainly stirred something inside me that I was uncomfortable with in that environment. The kid zipped by me, his humiliation complete, leaving me alone in the shop with the old man.

“Well young lady?” Charlie raised a brow, spinning the chair to face me.

Again, I ran a nervous hand through my hair, which was nearly dry. Before I could decide, I quickly stood, dashing out of the place. As I pulled away from the curb, I saw Charlie standing in the doorway to his shop, shaking his head knowingly.

By the time I reached the cottage, my head had stopped spinning, and I was getting a handle on my swirling arousal. To my pleasure the water was hot by the time I had put away the groceries, so I quickly stripped and ran the shower, the steaming beads of water dancing over my skin, doing little to calm my nerves.

My hand eventually found its way down to my center, working back and forth over my clit until I was balancing on the precipice. I hung there for a moment, imagining myself, under Charlie’s maniacal control.


“You city girls come up here, with your long hair and your city ways. Let’s pare down a bit of that pride you have yourself, young lady.” I felt the blades of the clipper driving forcefully over my scalp, completely at the old man’s whim. “Gonna send you back down there with your tail between your legs, hussy.” He was leaving nothing, nothing at all. “Is this what you wanted, huh? This is what we do to you city girls up here. I send ’em home bald and blubbering.” Over and over, this way and that, like he was shearing a sheep, my gorgeous hair falling over me just as the rivulets of water emulated its demise.


I came hard, almost violently, my hand thrashing in the air and my pleasure-pain sweeping through me like a sword piercing my flesh. I was left gasping for breath. I blindly shut off the water and staggered out of the shower stall and collapsed on the bed. Still soaked, not only with water but with my own pent-up juices covering my fingers and my sex, I basked in the afterglow of the best orgasm I had ever experienced.

I tried to eat something later on, but my mind and appetite were elsewhere. I just couldn’t get that damned barbershop out of my mind. I managed a few bites, and downed one too many beers, eventually falling asleep on the sofa with the television droning in the background.

The sun woke me the following morning, casting through the front windows which must have been full east. If I’d made it to the bed the previous night, I’d probably still be sleeping. I scrubbed my face with my hands, and stood, desperately wanting coffee, but knowing all I had on hand was instant.

After taking a few sips, I tossed the remainder down the sink, determined to drive into town to seek out someplace that had a decent cup of joe. Of course, the only place that was open at nine o’clock on a Saturday was the damned convenience store. I only hoped that I didn’t have to face the poor kid again, after having humiliated him so thoroughly the night before.

Just as I walked in, the same young man popped out from behind the counter, looking considerably younger with his hair cropped down to stubble. He turned a few shades of red as I made my way back to the coffee bar near the rear of the store. Seeing some fresh pastries, I helped myself to a couple of those as well.

“Just these?” He questioned, his left hand finding its way over the top of his head. The friction made the most distinct rasping sound, and I could feel myself grow moist remembering him in the chair. I swear I was almost jealous.

“Yes, thanks.” I handed the kid a twenty, telling him to keep the change. I hoped the tip helped to soften the obvious discomfort he felt in my presence. It seemed to; a smile pulling one side of his mouth into a dimple.

As I drove back through town, I couldn’t help but notice the barbershop was the only other place that seemed to be open for business. It took all my willpower to keep driving and not stop to see Charlie. I wondered just how he might react if I actually did stop by again. Certainly nothing like my little fantasy in the shower, I was sure.

As I pulled down the long driveway to the cottage, I chided myself for all my foolishness. How on earth could I go back to the office with my hair cut off? What would everyone think of me? “They’d think I’d lost my mind, that’s what they’d think.” I scolded myself out loud. The same reasoning that had prevented me from having it all cut off at home finally found me. The mountain air must have tricked me into believing I could pull it off.

But, was work the only reason why I never took the plunge and went short? I knew that ‘going short’, as it were, was never going to be enough to satisfy my little fetish. A year before, I’d even gone so far as to buy a convincing bald cap, tucking all my blonde locks up underneath and playing that I’d done the unthinkable to myself. It had been good for a few pleasant orgasms, but the fact that it wasn’t real, dulled the climax in the end.

I was so hot and bothered by everything stirring inside me that I even convinced myself to take another plunge into the icy mountain pool at the base of the waterfall. It didn’t help. So, I was horribly aroused and freezing cold, to boot.

As I struggled with my hair in the bathroom, combing out the long strands of blonde hair, I felt an undeniable urge rush through me. With my hair still dripping wet, I climbed into my car and drove. As if on autopilot, the damned thing pulled up right in front of Charlie’s Barbershop.

Looking inside, I could see that the place wasn’t empty. As I walked through the door, there were two men and a younger boy sitting in the chairs across from Charlie’s. “Take a number.” Charlie insisted as I went to grab the last remaining seat. Looking toward the door, I saw a small rack with plastic cards hanging from it.

I grabbed the one on top, examining it closely as I sat. I knew that the men were eyeing me as I set my purse down next to me on the floor. I could almost feel their thoughts as I tried my best to avoid their insistent stares. All it did was fan the flames of my seemingly unquenchable arousal. They knew why I was there.

Finally looking up, I watched as the young man who had been in the chair stepped down, his ears stranded for the shaving of the sides of his head. I imagined running my hands over the stubbled surface, then imagined it on myself. Flustered, I immediately attempted to squelch my thoughts.

The attractive young man smirked knowingly as he walked by me and out the door. I picked up a magazine but couldn’t have even told you what it was. Simply a distraction from the inevitable about to occur, I quickly flipped through it, barely absorbing anything at all.

The sound of the clippers being used over and over again was driving me mad. First, the boy, then who was undoubtedly his father, were skinned down to the wood, both sporting buzz cuts as they left. That didn’t help my situation at all, and I worried I might be leaking through my jeans at that point.

The man who had been sitting next to me took the chair, and Charlie managed a quick comment before starting in on him. “Couldn’t resist, could ‘ya?” He mused, as he fastened the cape around the man’s neck.

Just like the two before him, he too was peeled down to nothing, perhaps even shorter, as Charlie simply cut without asking. It seemed that he knew what everyone needed, either through experience or an arrogant defiance of any request they might make. He was the barber, and he was in charge. I tried not to imagine it was the latter, but that thought seemed to fuel my arousal more fervently than any other.

As my time grew nearer, I actually began to quiver in my chair. Was I really going through with this? What the hell was wrong with me? What was I doing? I very nearly stood and walked out, but as if knowing what was going through my mind, Charlie glued me to my seat with a quick, but insistent stare. “Your next, young lady.” He glowered, as he swept the cape from around the man’s shoulders, his hair reduced to a mere shadow on the surface of his scalp.

Grabbing my purse, I was powerless to stop myself. I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. The large leather seat was still warm from the man who had just occupied it, and I felt incredibly small all of a sudden. It honestly felt as though I was shrinking into it.

Charlie stopped for a second to speak to someone on the telephone, which was an ancient affair with a dial and everything. That detail seemed to hold my attention for a minute. Nothing was said, as he tucked a thin strip of crepe paper around my neck, the stretchy material feeling incredibly irritating. He didn’t seem to struggle with my damp hair at all, simply sweeping it up with one hand as he worked. But as the striped cape was firmly clipped around my neck, the shrinking continued. I imagined my feet poking straight out from the bottom of the chair, hidden completely by the cape. What was wrong with me? I felt like I was five years old.

“So, what are we doing with all this?” Charlie chortled, as he hefted my hair with both hands, pulling it free from the cape.

Then I said something that would haunt me for years to come. I had no idea where it had come from, but I had a pretty good idea considering where my thoughts had been for the last few minutes. “You’re the barber.” The words squeaked out of me, appropriate for the way I was feeling; small and inadequate.

“Well, I’m so glad you see it that way, young lady.” He chuckled. My racing thoughts were broken by the small bell tinkling over the door. Someone had walked inside. But when I noticed who it was, I suddenly felt very small indeed. It was none other than the kid from the convenience store, his buzzed noggin seeming suddenly well-coifed considering the styles I’d seen doled out that morning. “You sit right there, Jamie.”

I supposed it was just desserts, considering that I had watched him be scalped the night before. He would in turn be treated to my own humiliation, in whatever form that might take. I had placed myself firming in the hands of this old man. I could barely tell if it was an intense dread or an incredible yearning I was experiencing as I watched Charlie lift the clippers from the hook. Then to my complete and utter amazement, and just as I had imagined it, his diatribe began.

“City girl came by for a haircut, Jamie.” He gruffed. “Whaddya say we give her a lil’ piece of the mountains to take on home with her?”

I swallowed hard, the tight collar of the cape, barely allowing it. Would he really go on like this? Was it going to be just as it had been in the shower when I had very nearly passed out from my orgasm? Jamie was grinning ear to ear as the clippers whirred up, their gnashing teeth enveloping me with their hypnotic drone.

“Lookit’ all this hair.” The old man growled. “Mountain folk ain’t got no use for it. That’s why they all come to see me, little girl.” I felt the clippers slowly ride up the back of my neck; clumps of damp blonde hair tumbling over the cape to the floor. “Now, the ladyfolk, they all know to steer well clear of this place, and they do for the most part. Now there’s always a few young’uns that sneak in once in a while, and I give ‘em exactly what they want.”

I could feel the air from the ceiling fan circulating overhead against my scalp now, as the clippers slowly laid the back of my head bare. My heart must have been racing a thousand miles per hour, but that did nothing to quench the fire in my cunt. I allowed my fingers to rest against the crotch of my jeans, the moisture wetting them as I confirmed just how aroused I really was.

“You, on the other hand, I know exactly what you want.” He looked over at the kid, whose eyes were glued to the back of my head. I could only imagine how ridiculous it looked, skinned bald with the rest of my long blonde hair hanging in contrast on either side. “Git yer hand out from under that cape and feel that, girl.” Then he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Ya’ll be a good girl ‘n’ say it ain’t short enough, now.”

I reached up and ran my damp fingers up my neck, shocked when I felt the raspy stubble that ran from nape to crown. I quick gasp escaped my lips as I remembered what he had whispered so indelicately into my ear. “Can it be shorter?” I managed in that same squeaky tone I had uttered a moment before.

“Oh, it can always be shorter, less’n its shaved.” Charlie mused. “I’m thinkin’ that’s what you’re wantin’ anyway, ain’t that right city girl?” He grabbed my hand before I could slink it back under the cape, bringing it to his nose and sniffing. “Come here, boy.”

Jamie leaped from his perch across the room, beside me as the barber held my fingers open, slayed wide with his own. “Give them fingers a sniff.” The kid leaned down, smiling as he smelled my cunt on my fingers. “She don’t smell no different than Lori, that hillbilly your banging, does she?”

“Smells like poontang to me.” Jamie chuckled as he returned to his chair.

“See that, city girl. You ain’t nothin’ special. Ya’ll are just the same as that dirty little slut that boy is havin’ his way with Saturday nights.” His degrading actions had the desired effect, and I could feel the juice from my overwrought sex flowing freely now. “Ceptin’ ya’ll are gonna be bald.”

That’s when a loud moan escaped my lips, the sound of the clippers barely disguising it as Charlie started in on the sides. There was no use in hiding what was happening to me now. I was declared no better than a hillbilly slut, so I might as well act like one. I slipped my hand under the waistband of my jeans, sinking my fingers into my sopping cleft.

“That’s it, girl. Ya’ll enjoy yourself while I take care of this mop.” He knew exactly what I was doing under his cape, and I was certain that the kid did too. With practiced efficiency, Charlie ran the clippers with determination, pressing the warm metal blades firmly against my emerging scalp.

The sides and back were barren now, with only the top retaining any feminine qualities. But as Charlie placed the clippers at the top of my forehead, I knew that those were doomed as well. I watched as a patch of jet-white skin appeared in the clipper’s wake.

“Wonder what all those fancy city friends of yours are gonna think of ya’ now, little girl.” Charlie chortled as the last of my hair fell unceremoniously to the floor. The clippers fell silent, the old man cleaning them before hanging the menacing machine back on their hook.

I was silent, my fingers still easing over my clit as I observed the man fill his hand with lather from a dispenser on the counter. “Yeah, I don’t imagine they’re gonna take too kindly to this cue ball ya’ll are sportin’, huh? They’ll all be laughin’ and snortin’ ‘bout it, I’d say.” Charlie insisted.

With my clippered head all but covered in the aromatic white foam, I imagined what he was saying wasn’t too far from the truth. I was going to be the laughingstock, for sure. So, as the deathly sharp razor made short work of what remained on my head, I pictured the moment I walked into the office, my head shining white and as bald as a peeled egg.

But instead of feeling dread over the event, all I managed was another moan, the utter humiliation of it finally forcing the orgasm that I’d been courting since I walked through the doors of the barbershop.

“There you go, city girl,” Charlie said, proudly, as he wiped the reaming foam from my head. “You go show that off back in the city, now.” I felt the cape being swept away from my neck as he released me. The kid chuckled as he saw the state of my jeans, the crotch soaked, and dark with my juices from stem to stern.

“Ya’ll ain’t nothin’ but a plain ol’ slut.” Jamie chuckled as he sketched a wave to the barber. I shuddered with shame as he walked out of the shop and I was left alone with the old man. I opened my purse, but old Charlie waved me off.

“Oh, I think ya’ll have paid enough, city girl. That boy’ll be jerkin’ his meat for a month over this, I’m figurin’.” For whatever reason, that thought didn’t bother me at all.

I walked out onto the street, trying to come to terms with what I had done. I didn’t even remember driving back to the cottage, although I must have done. Staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, I tried to justify my actions. I looked ridiculous. My scalp was whiter than white and smooth as glass, the overhead light reflecting clearly in its glossy surface.

Naked, having shed my soiled jeans and panties, I made my way down to the waterfall, wondering just how shocking the cold mountain water would feel against my barren skull. I wasn’t disappointed. As soon the water hit my newly exposed scalp, I felt it tighten, deliciously.

As I pulled myself out of the water, I ran my fingers over my head, the skin of my scalp drawn as tight as a drum over the skull beneath.

“Ya’ll look like some kinda alien, but I’m still gonna fuck the daylights outta ya.” Jamie stood at the top of the trail, and I tried to think of a reason not to let him have his way with me. I couldn’t imagine any guy wanting to fuck me the way I looked, but there he was.

“You’re just a kid.” I reasoned.

“I’m nineteen, and up here, that’s grown.” He drawled.

Still naked, I climbed the trail until I stood before him, the air of superiority I once commanded over him thoroughly shaved away. Just as I had in the barber’s chair, I felt myself shrinking in his presence. Yielding to that sense of inferiority, I fell to my knees in the dirt and unzipped his fly.

“Ya’ll are nothin’ but a slut after all.” He managed as I took his cock between my lips and drew it in to the hilt, his balls resting firmly against my chin. He pulled me off, a line of my spittle hanging in an arc from the tip of his member. “Come on slut. Ya’ll may be ugly, but even ugly sluts deserve a good fuckin; every once in a while.”

I followed him dutifully into the cottage, feeling suddenly at ease. There was no denying it. I’d been thoroughly humiliated, degraded, and the twinge between my legs told me that I needed more of it. Jamie didn’t disappoint, and I knew I’d never be the same.

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