Hypnosis Gone Wrong

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Hypnosis Gone Wrong

 

By Dreadlocks

 

I’d been looking forward to the party all afternoon. Work was dragging by, and I was more than ready to escape. Five o’clock couldn’t come fast enough. I pulled my hair over my shoulder for the umpteenth time that day, feeling it cascade down my back. Don’t get me wrong, I love my hair, and wouldn’t think of parting with it, however much of a pain in the ass it was sometimes.

Every month, I would see Julia and instruct her to trim only the ends. Once she had taken off two inches, claiming the hair was damaged and it very nearly ended our professional relationship. That was the love affair that I had with my hair.

When five o’clock finally rolled around, Tom Brandon dropped a pile of papers on my desk. I gave him an evil look.

“Monday will be fine, Elaina.” He smirked.

I think he had been saving those so he could deliberately deposit them at my normal quitting time, just to judge my reaction. It wasn’t as though I didn’t log enough overtime, I did. Tonight, I just wanted to get home, shower, and get ready for the party. “You did that on purpose.” I accused.

“I just wanted to see the look on your face.” He chuckled. “Have a good weekend, Ms. Hamilton.”

“Goodnight, Tom,” I called back, my coat already over my shoulders.

As I stepped from the shower, and wiped the steam from the mirror, I looked at my hair, finger combing it as the water dripped from the ends. It would take an absolute age to dry. Such was the lot of a long-haired woman, and the price I was willing to pay for the luscious locks that all the men seemed to lust after.

By nine o’clock, my hair was dry and hanging in perfect fashion over my shoulders. I donned my coat and slipped through the door to my apartment. Gathering my blonde locks, I sat in my Z3, slipping in as gracefully as I could. I had managed to sit on my hair more than once since I got this car, and the jarring snap of my neck was not what I needed just then.

Serena met me at the door as I climbed the steps to her suburban house. I often envied her domestic life, but couldn’t imagine sacrificing my freedom to a marriage and kids; at least not yet. “Elaina, love, how are you?” She wrapped her arms about my shoulders and mock kissed me on the cheek.

“I’m good. Sorry, I’m so late.” I explained.

“Late? Nonsense. The party is just ramping up.” Serena ushered me into the foyer, slipping my coat from my shoulders and depositing it somewhere out of sight. The living room and kitchen were full of people, some I knew and some I didn’t. The low cacophony of multiple conversations surrounded me as I moved towards the bar.

Several of the men that I recognized were of interest, but one, in particular, caught my eye. I was surprised to see him, as he hadn’t been to any of our parties in some time. “Alan! How good to see you.” As far as I knew, he wasn’t spoken for, and would definitely be a worthy conquest. As I drew up close, I could feel the electric tingle between my legs, the same feeling I had experienced the last time we had met.

“Elaina. I was hoping to see you.” We embraced, platonically, and began to discuss our lives since the last time we had seen one another. He was incredibly successful, climbing the ladder at his law firm. Alan Petrocy had made partner since our last conversation, and I was quick to congratulate him.

“Yeah. The workload hasn’t changed, but the compensation certainly has.” He boasted. It wasn’t unattractive, just enough to let me know that he was worthy of my affection, should things head in that direction. That is exactly what seemed to be happening, and I was imagining myself in his bed that night. But, something was about to happen that would change that momentum drastically.

There was a burst of laughter from the kitchen, and we both craned our necks to see what it was. Not satisfied with that, we moved to the dining room and a direct view into the well-appointed kitchen. What I saw was hard to explain.

Serena, my good friend, and host was crawling around on all fours on the marble floor. I tried to imagine what on earth she was thinking as she seemed to sniff at the shoes of each person she encountered. Everyone seemed to be almost overwhelmed by the performance. A young man came from behind the counter and snapped his fingers, causing Serena to become acutely aware of what she was doing.

I saw her face turn every shade of red in the box, before she stood and flattened her skirt. Another round of laughter ensued, followed by applause. She’d been hypnotized. I looked over at Alan who was grinning ear to ear having enjoyed the spectacle. I immediately went to Serena’s side. “Are you okay?” I asked, wrapping an arm about her shoulder.

“Oh, I’m fine.” She grumbled. “It was a dog, wasn’t it?” She asked me.

“That’s what you looked like, yes,” I admitted, a pained look crossing her face.

“Elaina! Do you want to give it a try?” Several of my friends seemed to have singled me out, and pushed me forward to the center of the kitchen. I seemed powerless to stop the inevitable now.

“I’d really rather not.” I complained, looking over at Alan who just shrugged his shoulders, expectantly. “Oh, what the hell.” I sighed. “I do not want to be a dog.” I ordered, as the young man approached.

I remember that he moved me into a small pantry, and had me watch as he loved his hands and dangled some sort of bauble that was more distracting than anything else. “This isn’t working,” I mumbled as he raised his hand. Everything seemed to fade to black.

 

I suddenly became aware of my surroundings, glancing around me. I saw a familiar face, but couldn’t place the name. It was then that I realized that I was wearing a fucking dress. Was this some kind of sick joke? Acutely embarrassed, I ran from the house, finding what I assumed was my car by smashing the FOB over and over. Who had done this to me? Christ, I was carrying a purse! Someone was running after me, but I’d be damned if I was going to be confronted again in this getup.

As I drove, it suddenly occurred to me that I was unsure where I was going. My head was foggy. Maybe I was drunk. That had to be it. I knew that I was in no condition to drive, so I pulled into the first motel I found. I needed to sleep this off.

The joke seemed to be fairly elaborate, as all my identification was in somebody else’s name. Whatever. Whoever they were was going to find some charges on their credit card.

Closing the door to the room, I made my way to the bathroom to pee. I looked in the mirror, grimacing at the elegant wig that I seemed to be wearing. I pulled on one side, in an attempt to remove it, but it was stuck fast to my head. “What the hell. Did they glue this thing on?” I yanked harder, only succeeding in pulling a few hairs from the wig and giving myself a headache. “Damn.”

I pulled the dress over my head, wrestling with the damned hair as I did. I had to pee. They really seemed to have gone overboard this time, those jokers. “When the hell did they shave my chest? Son of a bitch!” I was never going to live this down. I ripped off the ridiculous bra and panties, bemused by the lengths these practical jokers had gone to. Had I been more lucid I would have been a little more suspicious of the realistic nature of my appearance.

I’m not sure what happened after that, but I must have passed out. I woke up with the worst headache. The sun was creeping in around the blackout curtains. Realizing that none of the things I had seen the night before had corrected themselves, I panicked a little.

I sat on the edge of the bed and called the front desk, pleading with them to pick up a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and above all else, a pair of scissors. They argued with me, but when I said I would reward them handsomely for their efforts, they finally complied. I still seemed drunk, and I wondered just what I had been given. Was I hallucinating or something?

About an hour later, there was a knock on the door. I instructed them to leave the stuff on the floor. There was no way I was putting that sissy stuff back on. When I was sure they had gone, I cracked the door, retrieving the clothes. The scissors were the office variety, but they would do. The wig was a complete mess, and I had to get rid of it.

Not bothering to look in the mirror, I began to hack away at the damned thing. Man, the place was going to be pissed, because there was hair everywhere. I doubted it was hair, probably some nylon fiber or something. Putting the scissors against what I assumed was the base, I snipped as close to it as possible.

It must have taken all of ten minutes to get rid of the hair, but at least it was out of the way, and out of my eyes. I was about to throw on the jeans and shirt when there was a loud banging on my door. Annoyed, I quickly threw them on and made for the door. Before I got there it swung open, and a bevy of people piled into my room. I was about to deck this one guy who was all in my face, when everything faded to black.

 

“Elaina!” Somebody called out, but I seemed unable to open my eyes. Someone had me by the shoulders and was shaking me. Finally, and with some effort, I was able to get them to open. “Elaina! Oh my God!”

“Serena? What is going on?” I looked around, realizing I was wearing some baggy jeans and a wifebeater. “Serena? What the hell?”

I seemed to be lying in a sea of hair; blonde hair, and I suddenly panicked, reaching up to confirm the horrible truth. My hands, expecting to feel the smooth strands of my beautiful locks, instead touched something rough and prickly. Exploring further, I knew that a scream was building in my chest as I realized the sea of hair was my own, and my head had been clipped to the bone.

“Fuck!” I flew up off the floor, desperately grasping at the people who seemed to be trying to protect me. “I need to see, damn it!” Finally, Serena guided me into what appeared to be a hotel bathroom. My clothes were scattered all over the floor, but the real horror was in the mirror.

Where my long blonde hair had once been, there was only stubble. In some places it was cut close to the scalp, the white skin showing plainly through, and in others, there were bristles of uneven tufts. “Who did this to me?” I screamed.

“I’m pretty sure you did it yourself.” A male voice chimed in from the other room. I pulled away from the disaster in the mirror, to find Alan Petrocy holding a long strand of my hair, shaking his head. “Do you remember anything?” He asked.

I was utterly humiliated to be seen as I was, my head shorn so crudely. “How is that even possible?” I cried.

“You were hypnotized, Elaina. Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” Serena wept. She looked over at an unfamiliar young man, who seemed to be hiding near the door. “What the hell, David? This is all your fault!” She snapped, acerbically.

“Oh, God. What am I going to do?” I was feeling weak, and my legs began to give out. “What was I hypnotized as?” I asked the man, who seemed to be almost melting into the wall behind him.

“A man.” He finally answered.

“We thought it would be a goof, you know.” Brent began. “Make the most beautiful girl in the room think she was a guy. I mean, it was perfect.” I glanced over at my former friend; my eyes must have been like daggers.

“You bastards. Look at me!” I yelled.

“Come on, Elaina. We’ll get this straightened out.” I was surprised, acutely embarrassed, but surprised as Alan wrapped his arm around me and led me out of the motel.

“Where are we going?” I asked, as he cut his way through the city, the sleek Maserati whisking me away from my apparent shame.

“My place.” He answered, reaching over to grip my hand in his. “It’s only hair, after all.”

I was shocked that he wanted anything to do with me. I was hideous. As we pulled into a three-car garage, he escorted me inside and straight into the most luxurious bathroom I had ever seen.

“I’ll be right back. Why don’t you slip out of those?” He pointed to the oversized jeans and shirt.

While he was gone, I slowly stripped off the obviously male clothing, allowing it to fall into a pile on the granite floor. Naked, I was nervous to be seen by him. Normally, I would have been salivating to be so exposed to a man as good-looking as Alan. Just then, I was anything but beautiful, and it was humiliating rather than arousing.

Alan returned with a small pouch, which he unzipped on the generous countertop. “Sorry, they’re only beard trimmers, but it’s all I’ve got on hand.” He explained.

“You’re going to shave my head?” I exclaimed, running my hand protectively over what remained of my hair. “Really?” I wept.

He swept the tear from my cheek, smiling. “I think that it would be the best solution, considering what’s left.” He ran his index finger up the side of my head, and I shied away in shame. “I think you’re going to be stunning, once you’re bald.” He admitted.

“You think so?” I asked timidly.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Elaina, with or without hair.” He bolstered, a high-pitched whine rose up from the clippers as he flipped them on. “Close your eyes. I’ll tell you when to open them.”

I stood, stoically as I could manage, as the clippers ran over my head. I couldn’t help but cry. The tears seemed unstoppable. Alan caressed my check as he worked, comforting me as he straightened out the mess my ‘male self’ had wrought.

It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, and I eventually found the warm metal of the clippers almost comforting, as if they alone could fix the horrific mess that was my hair. A few small, short strokes at the end, and the clippers fell silent. I felt hands on my naked shoulders move me, my feet following his direction across the cold smooth floor.

“Now you may open your eyes, Elaina.” Alan instructed.

The sight was not what I expected. I thought I would see a pathetic shaved rat of a girl. Instead, the image that reflected back was of me, without hair, and beautiful, not in spite of it, but because of it. It was a shock, to be sure, but not an unpleasant one.

“You see. You are absolutely spectacular.” Alan caressed my head, his fingers sending shivers down my spine as he explored the naked surface of my scalp. He kissed the side of my neck, trailing his lips upwards onto my naked head, and it felt amazing. “This afternoon, we’ll go buy you a wig. It can be just like your old hair, or anything you desire. I ask only one thing in return.”

Overwhelmed by his affection, I leaned back into him, my naked bottom fitting into him perfectly. “Anything you like, Alan.”

“The wig will be yours, to wear whenever you please. When you’re with me, however, I want you like this.” Again, he kissed my scalp, his tongue flitting over its sensitive surface.

Later on, after we had made love too many times to count, he shaved me while we relaxed in the spa. The blade was almost as enjoyable as the clippers, as it slid effortlessly over my head. Were I not completely worn out, I would have been aroused by its caresses.

I looked over at the long blonde wig that stood elegantly on its stand and smiled, a comfort to know it was there. Inside, however, I knew that I would eventually leave it behind. I was a bald girl now, and I would have to allow myself to be just that.

 

3 responses to “Hypnosis Gone Wrong

  1. Always pleased to see a hypnosis story. There’s something so fun about someone hacking off all their hair, completely oblivious to what they’re doing. Nice story with a cute ending! I enjoyed the “male” internal monologue

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