Crossing borders

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Crossing borders

This summer I moved to a small village near the Belgian border. One of the good things is, I am closer to my favorite barberette right now. The city of Antwerp being only a thirty minute drive from here.

I discovered Charlotte’s – that is her name – salon by accident a few years ago, when strolling through the mediaeval town center of Antwerp. She ran the place all by herself and only opened up for appointments made in advance.

Through the years I develop a kind of strange relationship with her. Hard to explain. Each visit I felt at ease and she cut my hair to my satisfaction. Always the same drill, just taking a few inches off. Till that one time I asked her to cut it shorter. Before I could show her a picture of me with shorter hair (that went back about five years), she responded with: ‘You want it shaved?” Eyes and mouth wide open as if she had been given a surprise present.  I waved that idea away quickly and showed her the photograph.

‘Okay that’s easy, I can do that one with my eyes closed.’ And so she did, as a figure of speech that is. She did a fine job and finished with the words ‘Well that sure was a major haircut’. I could read her mind that she clearly had fun doing it. She didn’t quite cut it like in the picture, not that short. I was satisfied though not ecstatically happy with it.

It being shorter it took more time than usual for my next haircut. As always not knowing what to do with my hair. So by the time I paid Charlotte the next visit it was rather lengthy. Even longer than the hair she had seen me with before.

She said she liked it and offered to do just a tiny trim. And that’s what she did the next three times. Though I liked the length of my hair now, I didn’t quite dig the way she styled it. Too much of a bob like style. Maybe slightly too feminine.

As winter came, circumstances in my private life made it hard to travel south. So I found a barberette close by.

It most have been over a year now that I had Charlotte cut my hair. My hair was even longer than it was a year ago, but more masculine. These last few months I noticed that I was suffering some hair loss. I unfortunately had a growing bald spot too. But … what you don’t see, doesn’t hurt, or?

I decided to take action. It scared me shitless. But I reckoned short would be better regarding the condition of my hair. I made up my mind to have Charlotte do the cut it as I always feel very at ease with her. Perhaps making a double appointment would be an idea. First cut going back to my regular style as familiar to her. After that a ‘major haircut’ as she called it. Just maybe I would be confident enough to let her really give meaning to that word ‘major’.

So I sent her a message asking for her schedule, explaining briefly that I was thinking of switching to a different style, but I couldn’t make my mind up. So maybe she could help me by doing the cut in two stages and make a double appointment, which I would pay for double naturally.

She replied with enthusiasm and the appointment was made.

A couple of days later. Having arrived early I walked up and down the street where Charlotte’s tiny salon was situated. Right on schedule I rang the doorbell of the old house that looked to have come right out of a fairy tale.

Nothing happened. And I was wondering if she was there. It did happen once before she forgot our meeting. My cell phone rang. ‘Hey it’s Charlotte, sorry I am not there but because of the government regulations I still have to keep the salon closed. Can you come to my home address instead, it’s just a block from the salon? ‘

I agreed and let Google maps help me find the place.

A short walk brought me to her doorstep. She opened the door and welcomed me. She looked different. In the salon she was always dressed in darker clothes, revealing almost no skin. Now she was wearing a short dress that had French fashion written all over it. It made her look girly like and sensual.

‘I live upstairs you know, but I can use the ground floor as I please. Please follow me.’ Charlotte led me through a long and narrow passage, tiled floor and walls. Bit creepy. At the end we entered a room that looked out on the back yard. Small window that let in some daylight but not much.

Charlotte clicked a switch and in the middle of the room a small bulb of light lightened the only chair present.

‘Have a seat’. I did and Charlotte walked to the corner of the room, fetching a large antique mirror that was on wheels. Put it right in front of me.

‘Welcome again and sorry for the extra walk. Well, you’re my only client today so we’ve got all the time in the world. She ran her hand slowly through my tresses.

‘How’s your decision going? Know what you want already? ‘ I was thinking, if only she knew what I wanted …

‘So the key message is shorter and after that explore something completely new? I like that. Can I make you a proposition?’

I answered ‘sure’.

‘Let me start with cutting maybe more than usual. Even more then when I did your major haircut. Do you remember? Not really aiming for a certain style. Just get rid of some bulk.

That’s step one. After that – step two – we’ll discuss the final style. Or …..’

I asked her ‘or what?’

‘Or … we don’t stop to discuss and from that point you just let me. Let me whatever I think is best for you. You do trust me right?’

‘Uhh yes Charlotte I do trust you, but what are you up to?’

‘Don’t know yet. But …. Promise not to disappoint  you. Do I get a YES, will you let me? ‘

What else could I say but yes.


Charlotte grabbed a small bag that was lying next to the wall. Presumably having all kind of tools in it to cut my hair. Placed it under the chair. She put a small, thin cape on my and started brushing my hair endlessly. She then took a pair of scissors and without another word she started cutting – what I felt to be – large chunks of my hair. The back of my head and my neck becoming colder.

Next Charlotte stepped to the side of the chair and with on big snip, cut all the hair on the side to just above my ear. She did that to both sides. Returning to her position behind me, Charlotte started to cut hair from the top of my head. A lot. But also saving some length.

Meanwhile the cape and the floor were covered with hair.

I looked into the mirror. Just like she said ‘not to aim for a certain style’. Well no mistake about that. My hair was a great deal shorter and looked as if I came right out of bed.

‘I cut quite a lot off. You sure you want to continue?‘

‘Well cannot go outside like this, so ….’

‘You do understand that I have to cut lot more to somehow make it neat …. Maybe even use the clippers.’

I was in a trance. ‘I don’t care ..’

‘So whatever I want?’

‘Whatever you want …’

‘Looks like your jeans are a bit tight when you sit like this. Let me help you.’

Charlotte kneeled in front of me, loosened my belt, unbuttoned my jeans and slowly lowered them to my heels.

‘Guess this must be a relieve, so tight.’ Charlotte laughed.

I was embarrassed cause now she could no mistake see I was getting aroused.

Charlotte laid her hands on my shoulders, holding the clippers. I didn’t see her fetching those. One leg she stepped over mine and sat on my lap facing me. I couldn’t help because of the short dress, noticing she was wearing no panties. And if I had not seen I would have felt. She was humid and warm.


She clicked on the clippers.  Touched the side of my face. ‘These have to go no matter what.’

No guard on the clippers, she shaved my sideburns. Slowly moving the clippers up.

‘Doesn’t that feel better?’ Charlotte made a big sigh. Turning the clippers off.

Before I knew Charlotte’s hand was taking my manhood and moved it into her body.

‘Yeah … some much better.’

Charlotte began to move her lower body as if she was horse riding.  Faster and faster.

I could barely keep myself in control.

‘What I want? I want all of it.’ Charlotte tuned on the clippers once more, held my head with one hand, with the other moving the clippers right down the middle to the back.

I couldn’t keep myself from …. And while Charlotte moaned she couldn’t either. You could say my lap was soaked by now.

Making this path front to back, I realized that there was only one way to go for Charlotte now.

Being out of breath she quietly and step by step resumed her job. Very slow and with loving care she passed the clippers all over my skull. It felt like a thousand times.

Thousand and one times, till my head was completely shaved.

Charlotte put down the clippers and started moving her hands all over my head. Feeling how smooth it was. ‘Hmm … not really smooth’ Charlotte said.

She leaned down to her bag to grab the things she needed. A small can of foam was opened and Charlotte rubbed it over my head. Not missing a spot. Then she picked up a razor and slowly and carefully began to erase what was left on my skull.

Moving her body intensely close to mine, being able to reach each spot.

At the end Charlotte grabbed a towel and wiped the small traces of foam that were on my head and neck.

‘So mister, that’s what you get when you don’t come to see me for that long a time.’

She unbuttoned her dress and upwards over her head she took it off. Leaned to fetch the scissors from her bag and handed them to me ….

‘Your turn honey…’
















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