High School Hell

Jim and Vicki had been inseparable in high school. They were the quintessential couple: the football star and the cheerleader. But behind the perfect image lay an unusual dynamic that no one else knew about.

In the 1980s, when most girls at school were teasing their hair into voluminous styles—big curls, layers, and bangs that stretched high toward the sky—Vicki stood out for a very different reason. Jim had always been obsessed with short hair, and from the moment they started dating, he had made it clear that he preferred Vicki with a close-cropped cut. It wasn’t just a preference; it was something deeper that made her his. And because Vicki loved Jim with every fiber of her being, she went along.

She took on a part-time job at a salon, and oddly enough, the owner loved cutting women short. Vicki was only 16, and over the next year or so, her hair would go from a longer, bi-level cut to an over-the-ear style of a boy pixie!

At first, it started innocently enough. They were young and infatuated, and when Jim had suggested Vicki go for a “neat, short trim,” she agreed. She remembered her first pixie cut vividly: sitting in the chair, the hairstylist hesitating before chopping off her long, golden locks, asking if she was sure. Vicki glanced over at Jim, who was watching intently, and nodded, her heart pounding as the scissors sliced through her hair.

But the more she cut, the more Jim wanted. What started as a trim turned into a close-cropped style that pushed the limits. The long locks she once took pride in had disappeared, and she became the girl with the shortest hair in school, standing in stark contrast to her big-haired friends. Her ears were fully exposed, and the nape of her neck was clipped so short you could see the skin beneath. It wasn’t what Vicki would have chosen for herself, but every time Jim looked at her, his eyes gleamed with pride, and that made it worth it.

Their connection grew stronger, and it wasn’t long before Jim’s obsession with Vicki’s hair started creeping into more intimate moments. When they made out in his car after football games or in his bedroom when his parents weren’t home, Jim would run his hands through her freshly cut hair, whispering to her how much he loved it short. Vicki would get caught up in the moment, feeling his touch, his breath hot against her neck. He always seemed to want it shorter.

One night, after a particularly intense date, they found themselves back at Jim’s house. His parents were gone for the weekend, and the two of them were in his room, tangled together on the bed, lost in each other. Vicki had just come back from the salon, her hair freshly buzzed over her ears, her nape cropped close. As Jim’s hands roamed over her, she could feel him gravitating toward her hair, the way he always did.

“God, you look perfect,” he whispered, running his fingers along the side of her head. Vicki shivered at his touch.

“You like it?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. She wanted to please him, to be everything he desired.

“I love it,” he murmured. “But you know what would be even better?”

She glanced up at him, her pulse quickening. “What?”

“Shorter,” he said, his voice low, almost hypnotic. “I want it so short, barely there. Just a little fuzz. I want you to be my girl with the shortest hair in the school.”

His words sent a thrill through her. She loved him more than anything and wanted to be what he needed. Even in the heat of the moment, the thought of going even shorter had her heart racing.

As their bodies pressed together, Vicki whispered back, “I’ll do it. I’ll go shorter for you.”

“Really?” Jim’s eyes were wide with excitement as he caressed her scalp.

“Mmhmm,” Vicki breathed, her voice shaky with anticipation. “I’ll go shorter and shorter… over the ear… cropped as close as you want…”

Jim groaned, and their kisses became more urgent. Every time they moved together, every touch, every breath, Vicki found herself whispering to him, promising to go shorter and shorter. It became part of their rhythm, part of their intimacy.

“Just… skin it,” she whispered, her voice breaking as they moved in sync. “I’ll have nothing left—nothing but a buzz…” Many nights they would lie in bed as young lovers, Vicki stroking his cock with a vengeance – all while whispering in his ear that she can’t wait to get it “close, close-cropped, way over the ear” She knew all to well his trigger point. Stroking his rock hard penis sometimes for a half hour, she knew just what to say to get him over the edge:

“Oh babe – feel this mess” as she would grab his hand and press his palm on her nape. “I want is all off baby, way over the ear. Shoot it all over my shaved neck baby, let it go now!” His explosion at times could hit the ceiling of tyhe rikety old trailer.

Her words only heightened Jim’s desire. He had her now, fully—both body and mind. He would run his hands over her scalp, gripping her short hair as they moved together during sex, and Vicki would scream out promises of going shorter, always shorter.

Saturday morning came and Vicki was first in the chair at Central Barbershop. Jim has sat directly across from her as Martha, the cranky old barber, sheared her down to skin. Imagine an 11th-grade cheerleader in 1981 with a military flattop style, but that is exactly what she got. She looked intently into his eyes with a faint whisper “I love you babe” just as the butcher pressed down on her crown and ran the loud, clangy clippers up her nape. It was bitter cold out and the shop wasn’t much warmer. He could see her flinch slightly as the cold blade touched her neck. It was only after a half hour of the powerful clippers running that the cold blades now turned red hot, peeling her hair off like a mower. Their eyes locked again later as the barber moved the clippers across the top of her head – taking it down to a tight 1/2 horsehoe flattop.

Jim knew her stance on the whole sex before marriage deal – she stood her ground. But the oral sex and her  aggresive style with stroking his penis was epic. She knew he would be rock hard after the cut, and true to form she leaned over the bench seat of the Chevy Impala and clamped down on his member. Pulling, sucking, twisting – taking every bit of Jim’s 7 inch erect stiffy.

Looking back now after 40 plus years, Jim is still reminded of seeing his sweetheart in the large leather chair, somke filled shop, the smell of grinding clipper blades, the scent of fresh lather, striaght razor, burning tonic on the neck and finally-  the burst of air from the air hose to get those tiny chards off the neck! To see her sitting in the chair, putting on her glasses and being spun around for her first look was nothing short of wonderful.

She loved Jim with everything she had. But as much as she felt powerful in their moments together, there was always a little nagging thought in the back of her mind, wondering how short she would have to go to keep him happy. As the story goes, she maintained her virginity throughout it all – 3 years of dating before it ended. She found the secret sauce to keep Jim out of her pants. Short clippered hair, always ready to stroke and suck his cock, always telling him she will always be short just for him!

+51