Deliverance

Today I started my new delivery job. An hour of filling out paperwork, then off to pickup up my uniform. In the summer heat I opted for shorty shorts to show off my cute butt and a short sleeved shirt to show off my bustyness. The uniform clerk informed me that for my long red hair, I could either wear a company baseball cap or I’d need to pull it back into a ponytail or braid. I never liked the ring that hats left on my hair so I pulled it back and secured my waist length hair into a big ponytail. I signed my uniform use agreement and I was now official. They even had my “Becky” name tag all ready for me.

For the rest of the day and the next few days I rode along with another driver learning the rules, procedures, and equipment for deliveries, then I was ready to solo.

Normally, I’d start as an alternate, if someone was sick I’d fill in for them but the company was short drivers at the moment so I was given my own route straight away. So after I clocked in I headed to my delivery van and was off on my first day with my new route. It was an urban area skirting the downtown business district.

My deliveries were fairly close together so pretty easy to navigate. It was kind of cool walking into my first tattoo studio to drop off packages and getting a look at what goes on inside. The owner was a beautiful woman with a shaved head and intricate floral tattoos on her scalp along with a bunch of piercings. Her long black sleeveless dress and black boots completed her look and she was breathtaking . Her name was Veronica per her packages but she went by Ronnie. She greeted me warmly and wished me well on the new job.

I pulled up to my last stop before lunch and grabbed the packages for the business then headed for the door. I froze two steps from the door when I saw the spinning barber pole. This was a barbershop. I had never been in one before and felt suddenly uncomfortable like I didn’t belong here. This was a man’s place, no women allowed right? Was it like being a vampire, did I need to be invited in?

Suddenly my decision was made for me. A departing customer saw me with my packages and held the door for me. I stepped through the doorway into a massive barbershop. It had seven barber chairs running down each side and two rows of waiting chairs back to back running down the middle. The air was buzzing with the sounds of clippers, scissors and men talking and laughing. So different from the dainty salon I go to every 3ish months for the smallest of trims.

Hair and strips of white paper encircled each barber chair like they were too busy to ever grab a broom or something. If cut hair had a smell, then this would be it. That and some sort of oil like I use on my sewing machine.

Every chair was filled with a male customer cloaked in a big white cape and all the barbers were similarly attired in light blue smocks, black slacks and black dress shoes.

It all seemed so utilitarian with black and white floor tiles, black leather and chrome barber chairs, stark white walls with large mirrors behind each barber chair, and bright fluorescent lights overhead. Then I saw the price list. Holy crap! No wonder they are so busy! The shop is called Dollar Barbershop and has probably been around long enough that that may have been the original price. These days a man’s haircut was only $12 here! My haircuts cost 10 times that amount.

The other thing I quickly realized is there are no receptionists in barber shops nor any front desk. I stood there in the doorway wondering where to put their packages. I looked around for any clue what to do. It was then that I saw a teenager scowling as the barber stripped his hair away leaving him just a faint hint of hair on his head and large clumps of severed locks littering the cape. The clippers just ruthlessly peeled his hair away leaving next to nothing in its wake. It made me think back to the pretty tattoo shop owner and made me wonder if she cut her hair herself or went to a barbershop.

“Miss, you can just set the packages over here in the corner.”

“Oh….ah….thank you.”

I set them down, took one last look around the room, and headed back to my van. That was exhilarating. My palms were sweaty and my heart was racing. I finished my shift out but kept thinking back to the tattoo shop and barbershop and what I had witnessed in each.

As the weeks rolled by, I had several more stops in the two businesses and got to know the people there. Ronnie, the tattoo shop owner, always looks stunning in leather or lace, and I can’t stop thinking about her bald head covered in beautiful head tattoos.

The barbershop is owned by Big Mike. He is tall and wide with a full head of hair parted on the side. He is also a big joker. One day he told me to have a seat in his barber chair while he grabbed a package he needed shipped out, and while I was sitting in his big chair he snuck up and caped me. It scared me and I did some flailing kung fu arm movements to get it off me while I jumped out of the chair. The whole shop laughed at me.

“You should have seen the look on your face”’ Big Mike teased as he mimicked my flailing arms. This brought more laughter.

“You got me good.” I replied with a chuckle as my pulse raced my face flushed with embarrassment.

“Maybe someday I’ll get you in my chair for real”

“Dare to dream Big Mike, dare to dream”, was all I could come up with as I took his package and headed out the door.

That prank flooded my thoughts for the remainder of the day. It was the first time I’d sat in a barber chair and it was so big and comfortable. That night I dreamed of sitting in the chair as Big Mike used his big clippers on me like they had been on that scowling boy. I woke up in a panic and my panties were soaked. I closed my eyes and finished the haircut while pleasuring myself to relieve the pent up arousal. I won’t be able to look at the barbershop the same way ever again after this dream.

It was true. Each day I’d go in there dropping off packages and sneak a peek at all the haircuts in progress to determine which I wanted to fantasize about getting that night. I’d then make small talk and position myself so I could watch directly or indirectly through a mirror. I’d even delay pulling away in the van if I could get a few more minutes watching through the front window. What was happening to me? It was the clippers. The big black loud clippers that excited me. They don’t exist in salons I’ve gone to, and they both scare and excite me all at the same time. The more hair I see the bigger clippers removing, the more excited I become.

This went on for another month, then one Friday my whole life changed. It started off mundane enough, but about mid-morning I stopped at the tattoo shop for a delivery. As I walked in I froze. It was a slow morning for Ronnie so she was sitting at a workstation with her head covered in shaving cream and was shaving her head with a razor and bowl of warm water.

She noticed my reaction in the mirror. “What, never seen a woman shave her head before?”

I was speechless as I stood there with my jaw hanging down. She stood and came over to me, took the packages from me, and set them on the counter. I couldn’t take my eyes off her head. She noticed.

“Would you be a dear and help me with this?”, she asked pointing to her head. I nodded and she took my hand and led me to her station. She put the razor in my hand and gave me instructions on how to finish shaving her.

I was so nervous and aroused as I tentatively worked the razor around her scalp, using my other hand to feel her beautiful bald head as I felt for areas I’d missed. She just smiled at me in the mirror as I worked.

“You know, I used to have long beautiful hair like yours a few years back.”

“Really, why did you decide to shave it? Bald is not a common hairstyle for women.” I asked as I shaved her slower than necessary just to prolong the experience.

“Two reasons. First, having my head tattooed is a walking billboard for my business. And second, because I wanted to. I had gorgeous hair that everyone kept saying was my best feature, but I wanted to show people that I am more than just pretty curls. Does that make sense?”

“It does actually”

“You know, I see the way you look at me, at my head. I recognize that look. I had that same look before I shaved my head. I can also see in your reaction to shaving my head that you want this. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You have beautiful features that are hiding behind all that hair. Have you been having ‘the dream’?”

“Wha-wha-What dream is that?” I stammered.

“The one where your head is bald, or even better, you’re having all your hair cut off?”

“Ummm…..no, I love my hair”, I retorted, not sure if I was trying to convince her or myself.

“Mmmm hmmmmm, sure”

She stood and took the razor from my hand and tucked my hair behind my right ear. “Look at those cheekbones, hidden behind all this hair.”

It was like she could see right through me, into my soul. I stared at her reflection in the mirror, then my own. What was happening right now? This is crazy! I need to get out of here. Flustered, I scurried out the door and sped off in my van. That little stop had cost me most of my lunch break, but that was ok because I didn’t have much of an appetite.

Later that afternoon I stop at the barbershop to deliver packages and right as I walk in there is a woman in Big Mike’s barber chair with all her hair flat on top and he is shaving the lower half of her head bald. She looked at me and smiled and winked. I nearly dropped the packages, but quickly regained my composure and set them in the corner then headed out to grab another handful of boxes. When I returned she was just stepping out of the chair and walked past me to pay. I openly gawked at how brutally short it was, but how beautiful she looked with it too. She was in camo fatigues and donned her matching cap as she exited. Big Mike patted his barber chair and said, “Hop on up Becky and I can give you a matching haircut.”

I just chuckled and said, “hard pass”, but not real convincingly.

“Well, you know where to find me when you change your mind”, he joked then called up the next customer.

Do Big Mike and Ronnie know more about me than I know about myself? Is that what I secretly want, to lose all my hair? Would I lose my job if I did? Would that be reason enough not to do it? I had to admit, I had started spending my free time watching long to short haircut videos, reading haircut stories online, and fantasizing about these things during my self gratification sessions. But is it that obvious to others that this is my secret fantasy?

The rest of the day was a blur, and that night my dreams were full of images of me shaving Ronnie’s head and the woman in the barber chair. It was a restless night, but chock full of wonderful orgasms.

The next morning my mom was getting ready to run errands, including taking my little brother to the mall for a haircut. “Oh, I can do that mom. I’m headed that way anyway”, I lied.

“Oh, thank you sweetie. That would really help me out.”

We hopped in my car and I headed out with my 10 year old brother.

“Where are we going? The mall is the other way.”

“We’re going somewhere else today.”

“But mom always takes me to Supercuts in the mall.”

“Well, I’m in charge and we’re going somewhere different today.”

We pulled into the parking lot of Dollar Barbershop and I started to get out.

“Uhh uhh, I ain’t going in there. That’s a barbershop.”

“Don’t be silly. They give great haircuts and are way cheaper. Besides, I’m in charge, remember? Now march.”

Reluctantly, he exited the car and we made our way into the shop. I knew from my deliveries that you had to pull a number ticket from the machine by the door and wait for your number to be called so I took a ticket and led my brother to two empty seats in the waiting area. They were really busy this morning.

We both watched mesmerized at the various buzzcuts occurring around the shop. Then I heard

“Number 42”
“Number 43”

I held up my ticket and looked around to see who had called my number, 42. Then I realized that my brother had a ticket in his hand too and was walking the other direction towards the barber who’d called 43. Big Mike looked at me and smiled, finally recognizing me without my uniform on. “Are you number 42 Becky?”

I could have just explained it was a mistake, that my brother and I had just taken an extra ticket by mistake, but I couldn’t get the words out. My mouth went dry, my heart rate skyrocketed, and my vision narrowed to just Big Mike and his barber chair. All my dreams from the night before came flooding back, as did the juices in my panties. Why did I offer to take my brother for a haircut, and why did I bring my brother here? Is my subconsciousness leading me down a path I secretly want to go down? Where will this all end?

Big Mike patted the chair like he did yesterday, but unlike yesterday I took a step towards the chair, then another, and another. What the fuck am I doing? I should stop, my hair wants me to stop, but my subconscious and my arousal push me forward. I hear another barber asking me how I want my brother’s haircut, but I tune him out. I have bigger concerns like the fate of my own hair. My brother can do whatever the hell he wants with his hair.

Big Mike grins at me as I sit.

“I knew you’d be in my chair someday. You had that look, that yearning. I’ve seen that look many times over my career.”

He draped me in his big white cape, the same one he had used to prank me weeks ago, the same one I had seen strewn with locks of cut hair each time I came in, the same one he’d caped the lady in yesterday. The neck strip and snaps on the cape psychologically sealed my fate. The chair pumping higher and higher added to that finality and succeeded in pumping up my anxiety and arousal simultaneously.

Big Mike was savoring this. He is normally efficient and fast, but not now. He smoothed the cape around the front and sides, then began slowly combing my long red hair.

My face was as flushed as red as my hair and I stared at my feet as if in a trance, like this was an out of body experience, that I would wake up in my bed and this would just be another of the many dreams I’ve had about this moment.

Tenderly, he worked his way around my head combing root to tip, carefully working through any tangles. Finally, he spoke, “Like the lady yesterday? I saw how taken you were by her haircut.”

She was breathtaking. Is that what I wanted? Is that what drew me here today, my close encounter with her? Or was it something more? My mind flashed back to yesterday and all the events that transpired. My world had been rocked seeing a woman in a man’s barbershop getting a man’s military haircut. Or Big Mike patting his barber chair inviting me to get the same haircut right afterwards. Then my mind flashed to the tattoo studio, to Ronnie shaving her head, to me shaving her head, to the feel of her scalp as I did it. Sparks flew straight down my spine to my thighs as I clenched them tight. That was it! That was why I was here. I wanted that, no, I needed that!

With as much courage as I could muster I meekly replied, “Buzz it all off please.”

Big Mike paused his combing, obviously not expecting that answer. “You sure honey? I’m just joshin’ with ya. I can do a nice bob or pixie if you’d like.”

He was giving me a second chance to recant my request, what did I REALLY REALLY REALLY want? At this point I could:
1. just rip the cape off and run out the door.
2. Ask for a bob, and maybe go shorter in stages.
3. Just go for. Would I ever get the nerve to come back if I chickened out now?
After weighing my options, I knew what I had to do.

“Please sheer me like a sheep Big Mike”, I proclaimed, this time with resolve. I startled myself with how assertive it came out.

“Okie dokie, one sheered sheep haircut coming right up”

With that he put down his comb, picked up his big black clippers, and swapped the #1 blade for his #00000 one. “You want to watch?”

“Oh God no!”, came out before I could stop myself. I knew in barbershops no one faced the mirror, they always faced the ‘audience’, and besides, I’d probably cry if I did.

He flicked his clippers on and off as he oiled them up good for the forest of hair they were tasked with cutting down. They would get a workout today unlike any they’d faced in a long time. Then he turned me to face the rest of the barbers and customers. All eyes were on me, me and my long red hair hanging down front of the white barber cape. No one but Big Mike and I knew my hair’s fate and everyone looked on anxious to see how this all played out. Even my brother stared at me from across the room as his barber was cutting his hair shorter than he’d ever had it before.

“One last chance Becky, scissors or clippers?”

“Sheep”

“Ok, my little lamb. You are in for the shearing of your life.” With that he put his big clippers to my center part and slowly pulled the clippers straight back, widening my part by three inches. The tone of the angry clippers changed as they made contact with my hair and chewed their way back. I could feel the bare metal on my scalp, and my juices on my thighs. I was in sensory overload, the thrill, the humiliation, the vibrations of the clippers, my heart beating a mile a minute, and the sight of my long red hair sliding down the cape into my lap instead of being on my head where it belongs.

Bzzzt, bzzzzt, bzzzzt, Big Mike slowly peeled the hair off the top of my head sending tufts of crimson hair down the cape which then pooled in my lap like a little furry animal. If I’d been thinking I’d have donated it, but that’s just it, I wasn’t thinking, this is totally spur of the moment spurred on by my arousal and what could be a blossoming fetish. Or could it be something more. Again, my thoughts went back to Ronnie, to how I felt shaving her head, how I felt in her presence. Put a pin in that thought, we need to get through this experience first.

Big Mike went over the top of my head two, three, four times making sure he didn’t miss anything then moved onto the back and sides. This was not like I’d seen barbers shear new recruits in army movies. No, Big Mike was taking his sweet time, savoring every moment, but who could blame him. We were center stage right now. Some barbers even stopped working and turned their customer towards me to enjoy the show. When would he ever get any opportunity like this ever again. In hindsight, maybe a small shop with one or two chairs would have been less embarrassing, but no, my fantasies all revolved around this shop, this chair, even this barber.

The clippers climbed the side of my head and arced over my ear sending three foot long locks into my lap. The sensation of my ear being exposed was foreign and exhilarating. I could feel the warm air in the shop on my newly exposed scalp. Then he guided my head down towards my chest and ran the clippers up my nape. Each pass sent electricity straight to my core and had to bite my lip as the tidal wave of an orgasm brewed.

On around my head he buzzed until the last of my long locks were removed. He then retraced his path and buzzed it all again several
more times from different directions until he was satisfied that this sheep was properly sheared. The clippers fell silent and there was an eerie stillness in the room. No one moved, no one made a sound. All just stared at the girl who came in with a gorgeous mane of fiery red hair, and now it all resided in her lap and around the chair. No one had ever witnessed such a sight and were processing how to deal with it. Even her brother sat there in his barber chair with his mouth hanging open not sure he’d just seen what he thought he saw.

“You want me to go all the way and shave you bald?”

“No, this is enough for one day. Besides, that honor belongs to someone else.”

He shaved the hairline and neck, then turned me to face the mirror. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and it took some time for my brain to register that the bald person staring back at me was really me. My head looked so little without all that hair, and my ears were now on full display. I’d need some big hoop earrings to break up all the baldness going on on my head. Who knew I had such prominent cheek bones ? And my eyes really seemed to pop now.

I reached out from under the cape for my first touch of my nearly hairless head. There was only a faint trace of red now and it felt rough as I moved my hand back over the top of my head. It also felt so alive, especially the nape. I smiled for the first time since entering the shop and Big Mike smiled back at me in the mirror.

“I loved the red hair and all, but this look really suits you. Come back anytime my little lamb to get it tidied up and no charge today. You gave us all a thrill we won’t soon see again”

He whisked the cape off me sending all the hair on the cape down to join the rest of my formerly gorgeous mane. What a mess, and mass!

I paid for my brother’s haircut and we headed for home. He stared at me the whole way but said nothing. When we got home I told him to get out because I had somewhere else I needed to go.

I drove to the tattoo shop and parked in front. I walked through the front door and saw Ronnie working on a client’s tattoo. She looked at me, then did a double take.

“Let’s take a break eh Paul?”

She stood and came over to me. I felt like a shy school girl getting her first attention from a boy.

“Look at you! You did it!”, she lifted my chin and my gaze rose from the floor to meet her eyes. She gently glided her fingers over the top of my head. My core was on fire.

“Will you help me finish the job?”

“Depends. What does ‘finished’ look like to you?”

“I love your free spirit vibe, the piercings, the tattoos, the clothes that accentuate it all. That’s what I want.”

“Strip.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, strip. I need to see what I’m working with.”

Slowly I kicked off my tennis shoes, the peeled off my tshirt and jeans.

“All of it please”

The bra and panties dropped to the floor. My nipples were hard and my folds slick with moisture.

“Oh my, someone is excited, aren’t they”

I was aroused, and the possibility that someone could walk in and see me naked heightened that arousal. Ronnie stood behind me, her warm breath on my nape. She reached around and lightly dragged her nails over my breast and nipple causing an involuntary moan to escape.

“Perhaps some nice bars through these”, she whispered as she tweaked my nipple and gave it a little twist. Another moan as my stomach muscles tensed.

Her hand slid down my belly and circled my navel. She nibbled my nape then whispered,
“And maybe a nice jeweled navel piercing, eh poppet?”

Her hand continued its journey downward to my bush.

“Oh my, this is in need of some TLC. Or perhaps we could just remove it and put some lovely ink here”, she teased as she ruffled her fingers through my fluff.

“And what are your desires down here?”, she asked as her fingers slid into my sopping cunt. I came hard clenching my muscles again and again around her fingers as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me. It had been building all morning and yearning to be released. My back arched and head lolled backwards onto her shoulder, our bald heads touching for the first time.

She relentlessly teased my clit prolonging the ride until I had to force her hand away because I couldn’t take any more. My head remained on her shoulder as my body slowly tried to calm itself. She looked down at me and smiled, as she brought her hand up and gently caressed my breast. I wanted to stay here forever.

“Are you ready for what comes next?”

“Don’t you mean who comes next?”

“Oh you are a naughty one kitten. On the table, up you go. Let’s start with your piercings.”

The cold leather on my skin was a shock at first, but when my head laid back on it the coolness felt amazing. It was so unexpected to not have hair there.

Ronnie was totally professional as she pierced my nose, ears, nipples, eyebrow, and navel.

“Now let’s do some landscaping, shall we?”

She used a small set of clippers to carefully buzz away all the pubic hair, then used shaving cream and a disposable razor and pulling the skin this way and that to get a close shave. She finished by blowing on the area sending a cold shiver through me. She then raked her nails across the newly bared skin sending electricity surging through me, then slapped my mound a couple times sending jolts to my core and generated an unexpected moan of approval.

Next, she slowly sensually lathered my head, going over each area multiple times as I leaned into her touch which felt other worldly. She grabbed a fresh razor and slowly shaved my head. I closed my eyes and moaned my approval as she shaved me truly bald. She lathered my head again and shaved against the grain this time, tenderly running her fingers over my scalp to ensure nothing was missed.

Oh my God! This feels so amazing! I definitely get the appeal. I may never grow my hair out again. She has such an amazing touch I never wanted this experience to end. I am truly a bald chick now. Fuck! I’m a bald chick now! I started to go down the road of how others would react, then pushed those thoughts aside to stay in the moment. I touched my head as she finished up marveling at how smooth it is. It was surreal feeling my head that just this morning was covered in waist length red hair. I was now just like the long to short videos I loved to watch and my arousal also responded to this comparison casing my to press my hands into my mound that was aching for more attention.

“What shall we do next muffin? Perhaps some ink. Any preference where we start?”

Poor Paul was sent packing, then we started my ink journey. It started with a floral vine on my head that wrapped around my neck, with little sprigs that curled around my breasts. Next came a beautiful colorful butterfly on my navel extending down into a floral design on my mound. That was about all I could handle for one day.

She grabbed her makeup kit and thickened my eyelashes, then added a nice pink eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick.

“Now my little dress up doll, let’s find some suitable clothing.”

She disappeared into the back room and returned holding a black, red, and white tartan micro skirt and white cropped tank top.

“These should fit you nicely and show off your new tattoos.”

My body was stiff and achy from the tattoos and piercings and just laying in the same position for so long. Ibuprofen helped a little. I started to put on my underwear but Ronnie snatched them from my hands.

“Nope, these are soggy and full of bacteria. Go commando.”

I pulled the skirt and tank on carefully, and she led me to a full length mirror giving me my first look at what she had done. I didn’t recognize myself. My eyes, cheekbones and smile were accentuated and I felt so pretty, but more importantly, I also felt more me.

My neck looked so much longer but the vine wrapping around it and my scalp is gorgeous. The tight crop tank really shows off my round C-cups and nipple piercings as well as the beautiful butterfly and flowers around my navel and the new jeweled piercing.

The skirt didn’t even fully cover my tight round butt cheeks, and if I bent over or a good wind caught my skirt my whoohaa would be on full display. The thought of this was making me excited. My black Doc Martins completed the look though high heels might have been a better choice.

“You look stunning cupcake.”

I turned to face her. I grabbed her cheeks with both hands and kissed her long and deep. “Thank you for helping me find the real me.”

Feeling a new found confidence I pushed her shoulders down until she was on her knees then pulled her head into my swollen vagina to satisfy my pent up arousal. She gladly obliged and was very talented bringing me to climax in short order pulling her bald head deeper as I bucked with pleasure.

“Look at you all sassy and in charge now”, Ronnie said as she arose to her feet and wiped her mouth. By this point I was physically and mentally spent. What a day! I hugged Ronnie and we set a date to continue my tattoo sessions, then I headed home

Needless to say my parents did not approve of my new look nor my brother’s bald fade haircut with lightning bolts shaved in each side. Nor did the delivery company approve of my appearance. They let me go for violating their uniform policy.

Not sure what to do I headed to the tattoo shop. Ronnie comforted me and offered me a job as her assistant doing everything but tattooing. She also offered to let me stay with her in the apartment over the shop. How could I say no.