How My Hair Fetish Fantasy Became a Reality

It has been almost two years since I posted a story here. A lot has happened in that time. After many years of being together, I finally got married to the love of my life, confessed my hair fetish to him, and lived out my most secret fantasy. I had spent so much time worrying whether he would accept my strange kink, but when we did it, it only made our love grow stronger. Perhaps I should have opened up about it earlier. But maybe not… it turned out that we had chosen the perfect moment for my haircut, there couldn’t have been a better time.

But let me start from the beginning.

It was mid November 2022. Late autumn, the weather was getting colder. I sat with my boyfriend, let’s call him Pavel (not his real name of course, I changed it for anonymity), and we were looking at old pictures from our youth. We are both in our early 30s and he had just recently been to his high school (or the equivalent to high school in our small Eastern European country, the one where you spend most of your teens) reunion, so we were in the mood to share our photo albums from the time.

For as long as we were together, I had long hair. When I met Pavel, it went to my mid back. By 2022, it was to my waist. He had never seen me with short hair before, but on that day, when we looked at old photos, he saw all the radical experiments I made with my hair in my late teens. At that time, I had been in my edgy goth phase and decided to go for an edgy haircut. Of course, now I know that I didn’t just do it to be edgy… by cutting my hair short, I was exploring the fetish I had been hiding from myself for the longest time. Just back then I didn’t realize it.

My first experiment happened at 17. I had my hair cut roughly to chin length, dyed it black (my natural color is auburn) and puffed it up with lots of hairspray. It was a really wild look that fit well to the edgy goth phase I was going through.

But that hadn’t been enough. A year later, I chopped it down to a short pixie. I still justified it as trying to look edgy, but deep down I knew I was doing it for other reasons. I kept the pixie until I turned 20, then started to grow my hair back out again. While it grew out I tried a few other edgy styles like a mullet, but after that I never went short again. Because at that point, I had realized that I had a hair fetish, and getting aroused while the hairdresser trimmed my pixie felt embarrassing to me. I didn’t want to be the weird girl whose cheeks flush red every time she goes for a trim. What if the hairdresser figured it out? What if people noticed?

Luckily, I also love having long hair, so it wasn’t a hard decision to make. I could keep the strange desire to cut my hair buried deep inside, and simply enjoy having it long. But of course, even buried deep, the desire remained.

Two years ago I decided to give my secret fetish an outlet by writing hair fetish stories. I posted them on this site, letting anonymous people on the internet share in my hidden desires which I never shared with a single person in my life.

But then, on that cozy November day in 2022, when I sat with Pavel looking through old pictures, the first seed of revealing my hair fetish to him was planted. He saw pictures of me when I was 19, with a short pixie that went just to my eyebrows and left my ears exposed. He was surprised, as he only knew me with long hair, so I told him that I had my edgy goth phase and wanted to try a different haircut at the time.

And then he said the words that made my heart flutter with excitement.

“It looked kinda cute on you.”

I felt the warmth rush to my face when he said that. “You think so?” I asked, just to confirm.

He laughed. “I don’t think it looked better than your hair now, but it really fit your vibe back then. Very playful.”

My cheeks grew even redder. I think he noticed, because he showed me a wide grin. Maybe he thought I was embarrassed of my edgy goth phase now? But no, it wasn’t that. It was his comment about my hair. He liked it. Maybe…

“What would you think if I got such a cut again?” I asked. Quickly, I added, “Not that I’d want to. Just, you know… what if…”

He laughed again. “Are you worried that I like you with a pixie? Don’t worry, I love your hair, babe. I’m just saying that you looked cute back then!”

No, I wasn’t worried that he liked me with a pixie. What did he think – that I thought he would ask me to cut it again? God, I would have said yes right away! No, I was worried about the opposite. Or had been, until that moment.

You see, I was always very open to my Pavel about everything. As you may have noticed from my other stories, I don’t just have a hair fetish, I also have a little bit of a foot fetish, and I love having my feet played with. I told him so early in our relationship, and he always happily indulged me with foot massages and even sucked my toes during foreplay. He also knew that I loved my hair being played with, and he often gave me head massages, brushed my hair, braided it… I loved having his hands in my hair, and he knew my scalp and nape were very erogenous zones for me.

But I never told him about my secret desire of having my hair cut off. It’s the one thing I kept secret. I knew he loved my long hair, loved to play with it as much as I loved it being played with. So I always worried – if he found out about my secret desire, could he accept it? Could he accept that I had the perverse urge to chop off my crowning glory, the long beautiful hair he so loved?

When he said that I looked good with a pixie, that worry suddenly evaporated. Now I knew he would be fine with it. Now I knew he wouldn’t leave me in disgust if I ever revealed my secret fantasy. Of course, it had been silly of me to ever worry about that. We love each other with all our hearts. Why would a stupid sexual fantasy be a reason for breakup?

I think it was my own inhibition that made me so worried about it. When I realized at 19 that the reason my cheeks always flushed red when I had my pixie trimmed in the salon was sexual arousal, I felt like a freak. All my other kinks felt normal. Getting my feet rubbed, what woman doesn’t like that? Getting my hair brushed and my head massaged, what couple doesn’t do that?

But having my hair cut off and getting aroused by it? It felt wrong. So I kept it hidden. But now, after my beloved Pavel said that I looked cute in those old pictures with a pixie, the chains around my mind were starting to unravel.

Maybe it wasn’t so wrong to have that fantasy, after all.

And then, in the weeks that followed, I kept prodding him about it, dropping more and more hints before I dropped the bomb on him. Finally, after seven years of being together, I would reveal my most secret fantasy to him.

But for now, we just kept looking at our old pictures, joking and laughing at how cringe we were as teens. In the back of my mind, still, the thoughts about my hair remained. Oh Pavel, you had no idea what Pandora’s box you had opened with that comment…

The next day, I brought up my pixie again. He gave me a funny look and said that it almost feels like I want to get it cut short like that again. Still nervous about my secret desire, I shook my head and came up with some silly excuse. I just wanted to talk about old times, I guess. The style I had in my younger years. Of course now I’m a grown up woman who no longer wants to experiment with edgy hairstyles. But it’s cool to know that you thought I looked cute.

He just shook his head and dismissed it as a silly woman thing. Women love to talk about their appearance, after all. I breathed in relief. I still wasn’t ready for him to find out the truth, but I kept prodding.

The bug had been planted in my mind. I knew he would be okay with it, so I wanted to tell him the truth, to reveal my most well-kept secret. It took me a week of bouncing the question around in my head, but finally, I decided to tell him.

I took him to my office – we both work from home and have little office rooms in our house where we keep our computers – and asked him if he wanted to read a story I wrote. I like writing and painting in my free time, they’re creative hobbies I can pour my soul into, and he had looked at stories of mine before. So of course he said yes.

But this time, it wasn’t a normal story. It was the story Leaving Her Hair Everywhere, the first story I posted here. Of course, I didn’t show him on the site but in a plain Word document, but the title already made him raise an eyebrow.

I told him it was a special story, and I wanted him to read it because it means something to me, and asked him to please just read it and if he had any questions to hold them for later. I just wanted him to engage with my fantasy, to see it with his own eyes. These stories were the only outlet I ever gave to my secret haircutting fetish, so it was the purest way he could experience it.

When he was done reading, I saw in his face that he had so many questions, but I shook my head and let him read the sequel first, Keeping Her Job by a Hair’s Breadth. That story was the truest to my desire that I had written. The scene where Steve cuts Marina’s hair in the bedroom was exactly what I wanted for myself.

When he had finished that story, he said straight away, “So that’s why you talked about your pixie so much these last few days.”

I nodded, didn’t say anything. I allowed him to digest it on his own.

After a long moment of silence, I asked, “What do you think?”

He shook his head and said “Well, I never expected that!”

“Yeah, but… you’re not scared off, are you? You don’t think I’m some perverted freak now?”

He barked out a laugh and took me in his arms. “My dear Nastya, I’d never think that of you! We were always open with each other about our fantasies. Why would this one scare me away?”

I could only shrug. Because it made me feel like a perverted freak for the longest time. But he accepted it! He accepted me with all my weird kinks and flaws, including the inexplicable desire to cut off my hair. Which, of course, I’d never put into reality.

Or would I?

We sat down in the living room and had a long, loving talk about my fetish. I revealed my secret desire to him, that I realized I had this fetish when I kept getting aroused at the hairdresser’s, and that it made me feel ashamed so I locked it away completely. Only when I started writing my stories did I allow it to come to the surface again, and then just a short while later we looked at old pictures and he saw the picture of me with a pixie and he said it looked cute on me and now I could no longer keep it locked up, I had to tell him about it.

And he accepted it. He has so much love for me, it’s incredible. I felt safe and welcome in his arms. It was like lifting a huge weight off my shoulders. The shameful desire I had always carried with me wasn’t shameful at all. It was completely fine.

We went out to a restaurant later that day and had a great evening together, and I felt more light-hearted than I had in years. It felt really good to finally let it out. And it felt even better to have my Pavel embrace that part of me. And so, the path towards making my fantasy a reality lay open…

Some days later, I told him that I wanted to go through with it. The thing he had read about in my story. The thing we had talked about on the couch. The secret desire that had been locked up in my chest for years, and that I finally allowed to come out.

I wanted to cut off my hair. All of it. Get a buzzcut. Together. No, not together – not him, I didn’t want him to get a cut too! I love his hair which he keeps a little longer, down to his neckline, and his beard that tickles my lips when we kiss. No, together as in – him cutting my hair. I wanted him to do it. I wanted him to wield the scissors and the clippers that would shear me down to stubble. I wanted this to be a sensual experience for the both of us. A shared sexual fantasy.

He was a little skeptical at first, but when he realized how strong that desire was for me, he agreed. It wasn’t something I’d want to put into our love life forever, just something to do once. Fulfill my secret fantasy once, and then grow my hair back out. It was just something I needed to do once in my life.

And so we got to planning. If it was really to be a once in a lifetime event, Pavel wanted it to be something special for me, not just a hasty thing done in the heat of the moment. We already had booked a hotel in Greece for the Christmas holidays, two weeks of romantic getaway with just the two of us. The short hair would be perfect for the vacation, he joked, because of the low maintenance, but I wanted to do the cut at home, in the comfort of our own bedroom, so we decided on mid December.

We bought a good pair of hairdresser’s scissors and a pair of clippers to prepare for it. We could have just used his beard trimmer for my hair, but he decided that proper hairdressing tools would make for a better experience. You can’t believe how happy this made me! How seriously my Pavel took this stupid desire of mine, how he helped me plan it out, how he wanted it to be perfect for me even though it wasn’t a fetish he shared.

He wanted it to be the perfect fulfillment of my fantasy. Oh, and how it would be…

The closer the day came, the greater my anticipation. I was all giddy inside, so giddy I could barely concentrate on my work. Luckily it was getting close to the Christmas holidays so all the business was slowing down, and my distracted mind wasn’t out of the ordinary for the time.

When the day finally came, we went out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. We had a bottle of wine along with the food, to get ourselves in the mood. I drunk more than him, probably three quarters of the bottle, and had a good buzz going when we went back home.

At home, I undressed and went into the bedroom, which Pavel had already prepared for the deed. We have a wardrobe with large mirror doors, and he had placed a chair right in front of it so I could see myself as my hair was cut. There was a cheap rug underneath the chair, which we had bought just for the haircut, so we could simply throw it away instead of having to clean all the hair off. Pavel had suggested a plastic sheet but I wanted a rug, I didn’t want to feel cold plastic under my feet but something soft and warm.

Completely naked, I sat down on the chair and took a deep breath. My heart was racing. This was the deepest-held desire I kept hidden in my heart for years, so many years! And my Pavel was there with me, helping to make it real. He didn’t shun me for it. He loved me with all my flaws, even my stupid hair fetish desires.

I wanted to make the first cut myself, so I asked him to hand me the scissors. I grabbed a lock of my hair and cut it off. A rush of warmth shot through my body when I cut it. I still remember the feeling as if it was yesterday. It was incredible. When you get to indulge in a sexual fantasy you kept secret for so many years, I don’t even know how to describe it. Like butterflies fluttering not just in my stomach but everywhere else, head to toe. Everything was tingling.

It felt so strange to look at that long lock of hair now severed from my head. I dropped it to the floor and let it fall on my feet. Then I cut another. And another. I dropped them all to my feet and played with the locks, picking them up with my toes, running my soles over them. Just like how I had always imagined. And it felt just as good as I had always imagined. It was incredible.

Then, I stopped picking out locks with my fingers and just plunged the scissors into my hair and snipped. The severed locks were sliding down my body as I cut them, tickling my shoulders and arms and back and chest as they brushed past them. It made my whole body tingle with excitement.

With a low whisper I told Pavel to take over and gave him the scissors. Then I closed my eyes and slowly began to touch myself as he snipped off my locks. He worked slowly, sensually. He really wanted to make it special for me, wanted me to savor the moment. Every snip sent a rush of excitement through my body. I rubbed myself just as slowly, eager to draw it out, build up for an intense orgasm with slow and loving touches.

After a while I opened my eyes and was shocked to see how much of my hair was already on the floor, and how short it was on my head. I watched as Pavel kept chopping, transfixed by the image of my hair falling, falling, lock by lock off my head.

I whispered an “I love you”. He stopped cutting just for a moment and gave me a kiss. We kissed with such passion, such intensity it made my heart sing with joy. Then he kept going, cutting off more of my hair, more of my luscious waist-long locks, more of the hair he so loved to play with, the hair he had known me with for as long as we’ve been together. It felt so intimate, I can hardly describe it. Like we had crossed into a new layer of intimacy, beyond simple sexuality and somewhere deeper.

I think it was just the feeling of having such a long kept-secret fantasy brought to life overwhelming me. It was the most intense arousal I had ever felt in my life.

When all my hair had been chopped into a short pixie, Pavel put the scissors away and we made out again. We kissed and touched each other and melted into each other’s arms. And after a while he asked if I wanted to go ahead and use the clippers too.

I said yes. Yes, I wanted the clippers too. I wanted them to run all across my head and give me a buzzcut. I’ve had a pixie before, but never a buzzcut. I wanted to fulfill my ultimate fantasy, push it all the way.

So I sat down again, slowed my breathing to calm myself down, and he took the clippers. I can’t even describe what it felt like when they passed over my head, shearing through my hair, reducing it to stubble. It was like a head massage but a thousand times more intense. I watched as they traced a path through my hair like a lawnmower, leaving my scalp almost bare. It was so fascinating to watch, I couldn’t even touch myself. I just sat staring, shivers running down my spine every time the clippers made a pass.

When it was done, when all my hair had been cut off, every last strand, all of it cut down to stubble, Pavel switched off the clippers and put them away and I rose from my chair on unsteady legs and fell upon him like a ravenous siren. I closed him in a tight embrace and kissed him and loved him so much in that moment, and when I put my hand between his legs I knew that he was aroused too.

He took his clothes off and we jumped into bed and had the most amazing, most intimate, most passionate sex of our lives. He kept running his hands over my head as we made love and it made me go wild. It was incredible.

I fell asleep in his arms with the happiest smile on my face that night.

When I woke up the next day I first thought it had all been a dream, but then I ran a hand over my head and realized it had all been real. So real. My greatest fantasy finally fulfilled. Just touching my buzzed head made me horny again. I realized that was going to be my fate for the next couple of weeks at least – simply being aware of how short my hair was aroused me, so I feared I would be constantly horny for days! And so it was, but I didn’t mind because we were about to leave for our vacation in two days.

We didn’t spend a single night on that vacation without making love.

Sharing that fantasy together had ignited a spark between us that made our relationship even more intense. We had always had a healthy sex life, but this had really taken us to new heights. I was insatiable for weeks! My poor Pavel almost had trouble keeping up. But I couldn’t help myself, it was so incredibly arousing to feel the buzzcut on my head, and to think about how all my beautiful waist-long hair was gone. And I don’t think Pavel knew just how much it aroused me when he told me I was beautiful and when he ran his hands over my head and said how nice it felt.

Of course, he was looking forward to my hair growing back, but when we talked about that, I couldn’t help but be aroused, too! Talking about the different styles I could try out on the way there, all the cute pixies I could try when my hair had gotten some length back…

For at least a month, maybe two, I could barely think about anything other than hair. How lucky that we had done the cut just at the start of the holidays! There was no way I could have focused on work in that state.

And so our lives went on. My big hair fetish fantasy had happened, and now I was growing it back out. Of course, my friends asked me about the buzzcut, because it was a huge change to go from waist-long hair to such a radically short cut, but I just waved it off and said I wanted to try something new. Some pried a little further, but I just showed them a wink and said it’s been something I always wanted to do. Usually, our conversations would go back to other topics after that. But there wasn’t a single person in my circle of friends who wasn’t shocked!

The real surprise for me came in February 2023. We had talked about marriage before, but now Pavel finally proposed. I was out of myself with joy! I said yes, yes, a thousand times yes! We started to plan the wedding, and chose June because we wanted to do it in summer when it was nice and warm.

I’ll spare you the details of my life, as they have nothing to do with this hair fetish story, the fulfillment of my deepest fantasy. But as I said in the beginning: the haircut happened at the best possible time. My hair had already grown back into what you could call a very short pixie, and by June it would be roughly the same length I had back on the pictures that started all of this when Pavel saw them, perhaps a little longer.

When we got married, I had a cute playful pixie that went to my eyebrows in the front, and that’s the haircut I have on our wedding photos. It was the wedding photo on my desk that prompted me to tell this story. Every time I look at it, it reminds me of that wonderful night when my fantasy came true. People tell me I look beautiful on that picture because of my happy smile, but only Pavel and I know what my hair has to do with my smile…

Yes, of course I was happy because we got married, but in that smile are still traces of that night, that night I still remembered because it was the reason my hair was so short. And the short pixie on our wedding photos would forever remind us of that night and its intense pleasures.

Now it is almost two years later and my hair is long again. Well, not really long yet – it’s just about shoulder length right now, with the hair in the back going just a little beyond. I tried a few different styles on my growing out journey, but mostly allowed it to grow without trims. When it had grown back to chin length, I tried a neatly-cut bob, but didn’t like it very much. I prefer my hair to be a little wild and playful, and the bob felt exactly the opposite to me. I had it cut into a mullet instead, and then just allowed it to grow out however it wanted. That’s why the hair in the back is a little bit longer than in front right now.

Ultimately, I want to grow my hair back to my waist because I love having it long and feel like waist length is the most beautiful it can be. But I also keep thinking back to that night of the cut, of the scissors shearing through my locks and the clippers running over my scalp.

If hair grew ten times as fast and it only took a year to go from buzzcut to waist length, I would cut it every year! But it takes such a long time to grow, so I’m sure if I’ll ever do this again. Perhaps it will remain a once in a lifetime experience. If so, it was the most intense sexual experience I ever felt.

Perhaps one day I’ll try a partial shave. An undercut, a sidecut, or maybe even something more extreme like a chelsea or a skullet. Although I’d probably choose a sidecut, as it’s the one I think would suit me best. I love having long hair, and I love getting it cut, so why not choose the best of both worlds?

But for now, I’ll just let it grow out. The memories of that beautiful night are enough to satisfy my cravings for years to come.

Will I write fictional hair fetish stories again? I don’t know. Maybe, if the mood strikes me. I just wanted to share my experience of making my fantasy a reality, and how it made the love life between me and my now-husband even more intense. Perhaps, if you read this and are in a similar situation as I was, this might convince you to share your secret fantasy.

Because there is nothing more beautiful than sharing something that keeps burning in your heart with your partner, and having him accept it, and embrace it, and love you with all your silly kinks and quirks.

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