Ice Cold Scissors, a second too late to decide on my cut

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This story is 100% true.  When I was in college in the mid to late 80’s, I would go home to my parents home on breaks, and get my haircut while there.  I’d go an entire semester before going home and my mom would say, “Elizabeth, you need a haircut!”    I’d go in and get an inch or sometimes two trimmed off.  My hair was pretty short,  it was cut below the earlobe on the sides, and hung about 4-5 inches down my neck.

 

During my senior year of college, my parents moved to another state.  I no longer left college during breaks to go home, and of course to get my haircut.  I got an apartment in the college town I was attending.  At the end of my first semester in December, during the Christmas Break, I needed to find someone to cut my hair!  It was an inch or two below my earlobes, and 5-6 inches down my neck, in kind of a mullet style, although it was side swept on the top and reasonably long there.   I looked around town at a few of the salons, to try to gauge what place to go to, where I’d be comfortable.  I did not want to go somewhere that would cut my hair too short.  I was looking for a hairdresser that was young, or about my age.  I decided on Denise’s Salon, as Denise seemed to be in her mid 20’s, and for whatever reason, when I glanced in at the salon whenever I drove by, she was always busy, which led me to believe she was a highly regarded and sought after stylist.  I also saw many young women getting haircuts there, so I thought it’d be the perfect place for me.

 

When I drove by one morning and glanced in through the salon window, I noticed Denise sitting in her chair reading the newspaper.  I decided to pull over, park, and walk back to the salon hoping I could get in.  When I went in and Denise greeted me with a smile, I asked if I could get in to get a cut.  She said that she had someone coming in within 5-10 minutes, and that if I wanted to sit and wait to see if that appointment would be a no-show, that she would cut my hair.  Otherwise she said,  I can get you in this afternoon at 3.   I sat for about 10 minutes, which seemed like an hour to me.  We chatted about the weather, and the fact I was a college student, and where I was from etc.   I kept glancing at the clock on the wall of her salon and hoped her appointment would no show.  When the clock reached 1130 I thought, this will be a no show, and I can get in!   Denise kept looking at her watch.  At 1130 she said, “I will give her 5 more minutes, and if she is not here, I will cut your hair.”

 

The 5 more minutes went by,  with each passing minute I became more nervous.  I’d not had my haircut done by anyone ever for the last 5 years except Jenn, in my home town.  I was at this point hoping Denise’s appointment would show up as I was so nervous!  Those 15 minutes gave me time to check out the salon.  I looked at all the products on Denise’s station below her mirror, and lots of electrical cords connected to curling irons, hair straighters, blow-dryers, and a couple connected to other things that were in her drawer of her station to the right of her mirror.  I looked at all the pictures on her mirror, presumably of her husband and children.  I looked at all the haircutting capes.  I looked at pictures of hairstyles on models she had put up on her wall, some with really curly hairstyles, and some with shorter haircuts.  The pictures of the shorter cuts outnumbered the others by 5 to 1!   I thought, many must ask for shorter cuts.  I looked at a pile of hair on the floor that she had swept there.  some with gray hair, some with black hair, but there was a bunch of really long blonde hair mixed in, maybe two feet of blond hair!  I began to think of the woman who left the salon with that much hair left behind.  I thought about the inch or two that my hair would add to the pile.

 

In an attempt to continue to make small talk conversation with Denise while we waited, I asked, “have you been cutting hair for long?”   I then realized she was only about 25, so it could not be too long!  She said, “about 20 years.”    I thought, oh my god, she must be about 38!   She looked like 25 years old!    And, as any 21 year old will tell you,  38 seems like an old person!   She said, “I started cutting hair at about 17 when I dropped out of high school and went to hair school.  I will be 38 years old in a couple weeks.”

 

At that point, she said, “why don’t you have a seat?”  She turned the chair toward me and patted the back of the seat, motioning me to sit down.  I got up and went to the chair, but I was more nervous that ever now.  I didn’t want an “older person” to be cutting my hair,  she might not be so ‘up to date and ‘chic’ as I wanted.  Before turning me toward the mirror she placed a cape around me, and for some reason I can remember the color of it.  I looked at my lap and it was a red and white striped cape.  She didn’t tighten the neck at that time, but turned me toward the mirror before doing so.  She reached into one of her drawers on her station and pulled out a white strip of paper which she promptly put around my neck from behind and tighted the cape, before saying, “is that to tight,” as she smiled.   It was very tight, but i said, “no, it’s fine.”  I thought about my hairdresser from home who left the cape so loose i had clippings of hair down my neck the entire day.

 

Denise sprayed my hair with water.  She picked up scissors from her station, stepped behind me and gently pushed my head down until my chin was on my chest.  She said,  “i will be right back.” She went into an adjoining room and as I saw her returing I saw she had a pair of scissors.  I looked and saw three on her station, but for some reason she went and got a new pair.  She stepped behind the chair, and again, with a hand on either side of my head, lowered my head until my chin was on my chest.  she combed the hair at the neck, and asked how long it had been since my last cut.  I said it had been quite a long time, thinking that if i said that that she would only cut an inch or two at most.   I didn’t realize it was the exact opposite of what i should have said.  When I said a long time, she must have thought it’d grown a whole lot since my last cut.  I didn’t realize that.

 

As my head was down, she said, “so above the collar then?”    Three seconds went by, maybe 4 seconds tops, and I was paralyzed at what to say.   Just a millisecond before I began to say “well, not that short.”  She said, “yup, that’s gonna be above the collar.”   Then before I could say anything, even though I didn’t know what to say anyway, and probably would not anyway, as I did this time, she placed the scissors on my neck and began cutting from my right side of my nape to the left.  But, the thing I was stunned about was that the scissors were ice cold!  Literally, they were cold!  Not just a feeling of them being cold.  She must have gone to the other room and got these scissors out of a freezer of a refridgerator!    Again, remember, this is a true story!  She snipped at my nape, and said, “there, that’s gone.”  I raised my head as she started to comb my hair after snipping the nape.  I saw a huge smile on her face.  I could see only one 5-6 long tendril of my black hair on shoulder of my cape and thought, i’ve been had.   Not sure why i thought that, but i did.

 

The right side was next.  She cut it to mid ear length, the shortest I’ve ever had it.  She said “snip, snip, and it’s gone.”  All the while smiling.   I thought to myself, this lady loves having this control over me.  It was the beginning of my haircut fetish.   The cut was the shortest I’d ever had.   But, of course by all standards it was not a really super haircut, just the shortest I’d ever had.  When she was done she took her comb and brushed the cape by my shoulders to brush all the cut hair onto my lap.  “Quite a lot of hair you are leaving.”  (again, true story!   I was not a haircut fetish before, but if I had been I’d be so aroused at this point that i’d have wet my panties!  After that moment I WAS a haircut fetish woman)   I didn’t say anything.  She uncaped me, but not before picking up a 6 nch long tendril of my hair cut from the nape, and placing it on her counter below her mirror, and smiling at me.

 

I asked her how much I owed her, and I gave her a 50% tip!   At that moment, for some reason, even though my hair was too short for me, I felt like she gave me an ‘experience’ I liked a lot, and wanted to tip her.   She began writing on a card on her counter, and gave it to me.  I looked and it said,  “next appointment Jan 19th, which was 4 weeks from today.”   “I will expect you here, so we can keep this trimmed up looking good,” as she looked me directly in the eyes and smiled.  She said, “i will see you in 4 weeks Elizabeth”

 

4 weeks went by.  I debated going or not.  It was only 2 days before the next semester began.  I decided to go, remembering her dictation of “yup, this will be above the collar,”  and “snip snip and it’s gone”   I was now a short haircut fetish.   The cut was as arousing as the previous one.  This one with my hair on the sides nearly cut to the top of the ears, and at the nape she used electric trimmers to clean up my nape.  I was aroused for many days!    The next cut, just a few weeks before my college graduation was even shorter.  She said, “next time we may need to use the clippers.”   There was no next time.  I graduated and left my college town.  But, before leaving I had run into her at the local bar.  She came up to me and said, ‘will see you next week at your next appointment,” as she put her hand on the back of my head and ran her fingers up my head.  She said, ‘We will clipper this down short.”     The look of disappointment on her face was devastating when she learned I’d be leaving town.  Oh no, i remember her saying.  And her smile was a frown.  I realized, she was a haircutter fetish, and I was a haircuttee fesish person.  A perfect recipe.  I told her that I planned to come back to town in about a year for a homecoming event for graduates.   Her smiled returned.  ‘Please,” she said, “let me clipper your hair when you come back.”   I looked at her for about 4 seconds, but it seemed like 4 minutes,  and without thinking I said, “I promise I will.”  For the next year while my hair grew out, I thought of her many times a week and gained pleasure.  We kept in contact, and I emailed her a picture of a haircut I got  while in another state, it was much longer,  and she replied with her own email that said, “I am going to clipper that someday.”

2 responses to “Ice Cold Scissors, a second too late to decide on my cut

  1. Hi Jenny,

    That was a fantastic story! I loved the interaction between Denise and Elizabeth and how dominant Denise was with Elizabeth and her hair. I thought it was really great that Elizabeth developed a fetish for being dominated and receiving short haircuts from Denise. It was definitely a great story and very exciting to read! Thank you very much for sharing this great story with us!

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