Liz got an unexpected push

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The sudden consent

Liz glanced at her calendar and sighed. Meetings, reports, deadlines—her schedule was always packed as the head of the department at a bustling insurance company. For the last 25 years she had mastered the art of balancing her professional responsibilities with her personal life. Married to a supportive husband, raised two kids, she often felt like she had it all under control. That is, until a knock on her office door disrupted her thoughts.

“Come in,” Liz called, barely looking up from her screen. It was Emily, her young and enthusiastic assistant. “Hi Liz, may I interrupt you?” Liz smiled warmly. “Sure, Emily. What’s up?”

Emily took a deep breath. “You know Shirin from the team Damage Clearing A-E? She’s been diagnosed with cancer. We would like to show our support. The idea is to hold a shaving event to collect some money for Shirin. But just now we have only two participants. Could you imagine joining us?” Liz’s smile faded. “Oh, Emily, I don’t think that’s really for me. I support the cause, of course, but shaving my head? It’s not something I’m comfortable with.”

Emily hesitated, then said, “I understand, Liz. It’s just… well, some people think you might not be up for it, that you’re not the type to take part in something so bold.” Liz felt a twinge of annoyance. “Not up for it?” The words stung her pride. She had always prided herself on being a leader, someone who wasn’t afraid to step up when needed. “Alright, Emily,” Liz declared, her tone firm. “I’ll do it.”

After Emily left her room, Liz realized what she had allowed herself to do. She stroked her hair. Her hair was ash blond and she’s been wearing it in a proper medium long bob for ages. Her hairstyle wasn’t that important to her as long it would be neat and easy to handle. However, she felt very uncomfortable at the thought of being shaved in front of the entire crew. Now she could only hope that the event wouldn’t take place or that she wouldn’t be needed.

Getting support

Two days before the event, Liz sat at the kitchen table, staring at her untouched cup of coffee. The reality of her decision loomed over her, and she knew she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. Nor had she revealed anything to her husband. Taking a deep breath, she called out for him. “David, can we talk for a minute?”

David, a conventional man who valued routine and predictability, walked into the kitchen, sensing the seriousness in her tone. “Of course, Liz. What’s on your mind?” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “At the office, there is this young mother, Shirin, working part-time in the Damage Clearing team. She has been diagnosed with cancer and now get chemo. And the office is holding a head-shaving event to support her.” She stopped for a moment. “I’ve agreed to participate.”

David’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’re going to shave your head? Liz, that’s quite drastic, don’t you think?” Liz nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “I know it is. I didn’t want to at first, but… it’s become unavoidable. Emily said people think I’m not fit for it, and I just couldn’t let that stand. Now, I’m committed.” “You’ve always been so dedicated, Liz. But this…” Liz looked into his eyes, searching for understanding. “I’m not sure about anything except that I need to do this. It’s for a good cause, and I’ve realized it’s a test of my own courage as well.”

Taking her hand in his, David reached across the table. “I know how stubborn you can be once you’ve made up your mind. I just want you to be prepared for how you might feel afterward. And for how people might react.” Liz squeezed his hand, grateful for his steady presence. “I’ve thought about that a lot. Honestly, I’m scared.” David nodded slowly, his expression softening. “Well, if you’re going to do it, then you’ll have my support. Just know that I love you, with or without hair.”

Relief washed over Liz, and she felt a wave of gratitude for her husband’s understanding. “Thank you, David. That means more to me than you know.” He smiled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “We’ll get through this together, Liz. And who knows? Maybe you’ll end up loving the new look.” Liz chuckled, feeling a bit lighter. “Maybe I will. And if not, I’ll have to face it. It’s just hair. It’ll grow back.”

Shopping helped clearing the mind

David suggested visiting a wig store to explore options that might help Liz blend in and avoid unwanted attention. Although initially hesitant, Liz agreed, thinking it might be worth considering. She appreciated David’s concern.

As they entered the store, Liz was immediately struck by the variety of wigs on display. Long, short, curly, straight, in every imaginable color. She couldn’t resist trying on a wig, opting for a vibrant and playful style. As she put on the bright pink wig, she turned to David, grinning. “What do you think? Do I look like a rock star?” she joked, striking a pose. David laughed, his eyes twinkling. “You look different, Liz. But…” Liz annoyed “You’re right, David. It’s funny at the moment, but this false mane is just a short lived joke.”

They continued touring the store, with Liz becoming more and more unenthusiastic. She didn’t like the store, its atmosphere. It reminded her of the salon where she got her first perm as a high school student. She remembered the experience vividly. Her mom loved the look of a mountain of curly hair, calling it ’angel hair’. She had urged her to get a perm. But Liz hated the whole process—it took forever, the smell in the salon was awful, and the hairdresser’s attitude didn’t help. She was so overexcited. The curls were too complicated to manage, especially since she was really into sports back then. They got in the way and were just a hassle. She was so relieved when the perm finally grew out. Ever since then, she never really enjoyed going to salons. It felt uncomfortable and unnecessary to her. She preferred to keep things simple and manageable. She would have cut her hair short but she didn’t want to be seen as a lesbian. Finally as short hair became fashionable, she felt free to sport a much shorter cut, but let it grow as she became pregnant.

Her mood shifted further south when the saleswoman approached them. “You know, many people find that wearing a wig helps them feel more confident and less self-conscious,” the saleswoman said, her tone sympathetic. “Especially if you’re worried about questions and stares. A wig that matches your natural hair color can make things a lot easier.”

Liz felt a familiar knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. She had come to terms with her decision to be bald for some time, but the idea of constant scrutiny and curiosity still bothered her. The saleswoman’s words reinforced her fears, and she found herself considering the practicality of a wig.

Nearby, another customer chimed in. “I’ve been bald due to chemotherapy,” she said softly. “At first, I tried going without a wig, but the questions and stares became too much. I just want to feel normal again, so I’m getting a wig that looks like my old hair.”

Liz listened, feeling a pang of empathy for the woman. The shared experience of dealing with public reactions struck a chord with her. After trying on a few wigs that matched her previous hairstyle, Liz settled on one that looked almost identical to her old hair— ash blond, medium long bob, and familiar.

As they left the store with the wig in a stylish box, Liz felt a mix of emotions. She was grateful for David’s support and understood his reasoning. The wig offered a sense of security and normalcy, yet it also felt like a step back from the confidence she had been building.

That evening, as she sat at her vanity, Liz carefully placed the wig on her head. The reflection staring back at her was both familiar and strange. She looked like her old self, but it felt like a mask, a shield to hide behind.

Turning to David, who watched her with a supportive smile, she said, “It feels like I’m wearing a costume.”

David approached, gently touching her shoulder. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, Liz. I just want you to feel comfortable. Whether it’s with or without the wig, I’ll always support you.”

Liz nodded, appreciating his understanding. She decided to give the wig a try in public, to see how it felt. The next day, she wore it to work. There were no recognizable reactions or questions. The wig worked perfectly, letting Liz coming home relaxed.

Last doubts were banished

Despite the encouraging effect of the wig the night before the event, Liz found herself restless. Unable to sleep, she downloaded a hairstyle app on her cellphone and began experimenting with different looks. Long, short, pixie cuts—nothing seemed to calm her nerves. Then, she gathered all her courage and tried the bald look. As the app rendered the image, Liz was surprised by what she saw. Her features, usually framed by her hair, stood out in a new, striking way.

She examined the virtual bald look from various angles, feeling a mix of curiosity and acceptance. Just then, David stirred beside her, his eyes fluttering open. “Liz? What are you doing up so late?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. Liz smiled and showed him the screen. “I couldn’t sleep, so I started playing with this app. Look, this is what I’ll look like tomorrow.” David propped himself up on one elbow, squinting at the image. His eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across his face. “Wow, Liz. You look incredible. Seriously.” Liz blushed, feeling a warmth spread through her at his genuine admiration. “You really think so?” “Absolutely,” David said, sitting up fully now. He took her phone and placed it on the nightstand, then gently cupped her face in his hands. “You’re beautiful, Liz. With or without hair. This new look just highlights how stunning you are.”

David always preferred women with shorter hair. But in high school or college he was a nice and tidy guy. The cool girls with rebellious cuts never were attracted by him. So they remained admired from a distance. As they first met Liz was perfect in his eyes. Tall and skinny, somewhat boyish with a neat short cut.

She gazed into his eyes, feeling a wave of emotion wash over her. David leaned in and kissed her softly, his lips lingering on hers. The kiss deepened, and Liz felt a surge of passion. There was something about the way he looked at her, a mix of admiration and desire, that ignited a spark within her.

He pulled back slightly. “You know, seeing you like this, so brave and beautiful, it really turns me on.” Liz’s heart raced as David’s hands moved to her neck, gently caressing her nape. She could feel the heat between them growing, an electric current that seemed to erase all her doubts and fears about the next day. Their kisses became more urgent, and Liz found herself responding with equal fervor. David’s hands roamed her body, their touch both gentle and possessive, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. She felt alive, every nerve ending tingling with sensation.

They moved together, their bodies intertwined, exploring each other with a renewed sense of intimacy. In that moment, Liz forgot all about her anxieties and embraced the love and desire they shared. David’s admiration and physical affection were the perfect balm, soothing her worries and filling her with a powerful sense of confidence and connection.

Later, as they lay tangled in each other’s arms, Liz felt a deep sense of contentment. She drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face, feeling ready to face the shaving event with courage and grace. David’s touch had given her strength, and she knew that with him by her side, she could handle anything.

The event

The atmosphere in the large conference room was charged with a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and solidarity. Colleagues gathered to support Jake in his fight against cancer, and the head-shaving event was a tangible way to show their support. A small stage was set up at the front of the room, and on it were three chairs, a barber’s station, and a microphone stand.

Emily, the young assistant, was the first to take the stage. She had collected USD 250 for her shearing. Now her thin, long blonde hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes shimmered with tears. She was visibly nervous, her hands trembling as she sat down in the barber’s chair. The room fell silent, a collective breath held in anticipation.

The barber, a kind-faced man with gentle hands, began by sectioning Emily’s hair. As he brought the clippers to her head, the first locks fell away, and a soft murmur ran through the crowd. Emily closed her eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks. When the last of her hair fell to the floor, Emily’s vulnerability and bravery were palpable. The audience erupted into applause, cheering her on.

Just as Emily was standing up, Shirin, the beneficiary of the event, made her way to the stage. Shirin, who had been wearing a wig, gently removed it, revealing her own bald head beneath. She embraced Emily, thanks for her sign of encouragement. The crowd’s applause grew louder, a testament to their collective support and admiration.

Next up was Charles from accounting. At 45, he was a familiar face in the office, known for his dry wit and meticulous work ethic. Charles approached the chair with a calm demeanor, his salt-and-pepper hair soon to be a memory. The barber worked efficiently, and within minutes, Charles’s head was smooth and bare. He stood, a proud smile on his face, and raised a fist in solidarity, drawing enthusiastic cheers and whistles from the crowd.

Finally, it was Liz’s turn. She walked to the stage with a sense of purpose, her steps confident and her head held high. As she addressed the crowd her result of USD 600, there was loud applause. Liz settled into the chair, meeting the barber’s eyes with a steady gaze. The audience fell silent once again, sensing the importance of this moment.

“Would you prefer a buzz cut?” the barber asked, clippers in hand.

Liz shook her head, her voice clear and resolute. “No, I’d like it to be perfectly smooth.”

The barber nodded and began his work. As the clippers hummed to life, Liz felt the vibration against her scalp, the first strands of her hair falling away. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation and the significance of the moment. The crowd watched in rapt attention, the room filled with an electric sense of support and respect.

The clippers moved methodically, removing the bulk of her hair first. When Liz’s head was nearly bare, the barber switched to a razor and shaving cream. He applied a warm towel to soften the remaining stubble, then carefully lathered her head. With precise, smooth strokes, he shaved away the last of her hair until her scalp was smooth.

As Liz felt the final pass of the razor, she opened her eyes and looked out at the audience. The room was silent, every eye on her. She stood, running a hand over her now-bare scalp, feeling a powerful surge of emotion.

The silence was broken by a single clap, followed by another, and then the entire room erupted into applause. The sound was deafening, filled with admiration and respect. Liz smiled, her eyes shining with tears she didn’t bother to hide. She raised a hand in acknowledgment, feeling a profound sense of solidarity and support from her colleagues.

As she stepped down from the stage, she was immediately surrounded by her coworkers, each offering words of praise and encouragement. Liz felt a deep sense of pride and empowerment. She had faced her fears head-on, and the response from her colleagues was more than she could have hoped for.

At that moment, Liz knew she had made the right decision. She had embraced change with courage and grace, and in doing so, had inspired those around her. The event was not just about solidarity with Jake but about finding strength in vulnerability and unity in support.

Prefer it neat and tidy

The afternoon after the shaving event, Liz stood in front of the bathroom mirror, running her hands over her newly shorn scalp. She noticed a few uneven patches of hair that had been missed during the event. While she felt a rush of empowerment and pride for taking part, she also desired to be neat and clean. Determined to perfect her new style, Liz called out to her husband. “David, can you come here for a moment?”

David appeared in the doorway, concern and curiosity etched on his face. “What’s up, Liz?” She turned to him, smiling softly. “I noticed some patches of stubble that didn’t get completely shaved off. I want it to be smooth and even. Do you think you could help me with it?” David’s eyes lit up with a mix of enthusiasm and affection.

He retrieved a razor and shaving cream from the cabinet, then guided Liz to sit on a stool in the bathroom. As she settled in, he applied a warm towel to her head, softening the remaining stubble. The warmth and intimacy of the moment brought a sense of calm over Liz. David worked with careful precision, spreading a thin layer of shaving cream over her scalp. He moved with gentle, deliberate strokes, ensuring every inch of her head was smooth. Liz closed her eyes, feeling the soothing rhythm of his movements and the coolness of the razor as it glided over her skin. Her panties became wet, she stated in surprise.

As he continued to shave her head, David couldn’t help but marvel at Liz’s attraction. He found the act of shaving her head to be a deeply intimate and bonding experience. When he was done, David wiped away the remaining shaving cream and gently patted her head dry with a soft towel. He kissed her head. Her scalp was now smooth and everything neat, just as she had envisioned. She felt a surge of satisfaction and confidence. David leaned down and kissed her newly smooth head again, his touch tender and loving. Soft and cautious David said “I would like it if you stay bald.”

They stood there for a moment, basking in the closeness and the shared experience. Liz felt an overwhelming sense of love. David carefully opened her pants, then softly touched her breast. His pants dropped. Liz let him penetrate her from behind.

As they left the bathroom, hand in hand, Liz felt a renewed sense of relationship and female strength. Her new look had given her the unexpected gift of sexual satisfaction. She knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, she could face them with courage and grace.

Dinner with friends

But for the dinner with Matt and Carol a bald head would be too much. She would wear her wig. But deep down, Liz missed the sense of liberation and authenticity that came with her bald head. The wig provided a temporary shield, but it couldn’t replace the newfound confidence she had gained. She realized that while the wig might help in certain situations, her true strength came from embracing her own journey, regardless of how others reacted.

Liz and David arrived at the crowded restaurant, eager to catch up with their longtime friends, Matt and Carol. Liz wore her new wig, feeling a bit more at ease as they walked in. The evening buzzed with soft chatter and the clinking of glasses, creating a warm, inviting atmosphere.

“Liz, David, over here!” Carol waved enthusiastically from a corner table. They made their way over, exchanging hugs and pleasantries. As they settled into their seats, Carol leaned in, admiring Liz’s hair. “Liz, your hair looks incredible! The color is so strong and vibrant. Have you done something different?”

Liz glanced at David, who gave her an encouraging nod. She took a deep breath, deciding it was time to share her journey with their friends. And with a smile said “Actually, Carol, there’s something I would like to show you.”With a graceful movement, Liz reached up and removed the wig, revealing her bald head. She placed the wig on the table, meeting Carol and Matt’s eyes with a mixture of vulnerability and pride.

For a moment, there was silence. Matt and Carol’s expressions shifted from surprise to admiration. “Oh, Liz,” Carol said softly, her eyes wide. “You look absolutely stunning. I had no idea.” Matt nodded, but asked worried “I have to say, you look fantastic. But let me ask bluntly: are you in good health?” “Yes, I hope so.” Liz replied with a smile. She felt a wave of relief and gratitude wash over her. Their positive reactions were reassuring, and she could see genuine admiration in their eyes. “I decided to shave my head to support a colleague who’s battling cancer. Wearing the wig should help with the questions and stares, but I’ve come to embrace my new look as well.” Carol reached across the table, squeezing Liz’s hand. “I’m so proud of you, Liz. It takes a lot of courage to do what you’ve done. And honestly, you look beautiful, with or without the wig.” David chimed in, his voice filled with pride. “Liz has shown incredible strength through all of this. It’s been inspiring to watch.” As the evening continued, Liz felt a newfound sense of freedom. With the support of her friends and husband, she realized that she didn’t need to hide behind the wig. Her true strength and beauty shone through, regardless of her appearance. By the end of the night, Liz felt lighter, more confident in her decision to balance wearing the wig with embracing her bald head. She knew there would still be challenges and moments of doubt, but with the unwavering support of her loved ones, she felt ready to face whatever came her way. As they left the restaurant, Liz carried the wig in her hand and smiled at arriving guests, even when they looked strange. She walked with her head held high, David by her side, knowing that she was surrounded by people who loved and accepted her for who she truly was.

As Carol and Matt headed home, Matt looked at his wife and said “I couldn’t imagine that a woman with a shaved head could be so attractive.” Carol giggled and said blushing slightly “Oh, no, my friend, don’t even think about your clipper.”

Back to the office

Returning to work on Monday, Liz walked through the office with her head held high. She had now reason for hiding, everybody expected her without hair. So yesterday evening David had to shave her head thoroughly again and this morning she had polished it to a shine.

Her first encounter was with Mrs. Thompson, an old-school secretary. “Liz! Is that really you? I heard about the event and couldn’t believe it.” Mrs. Thompson exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise. Liz smiled, trying to maintain her composure. “Yes, it’s me. My head was shaved.” Mrs. Thompson blinked, clearly taken aback. “Oh, well, that’s very brave of you. I just didn’t expect it. Doesn’t it feel… strange?” Liz shrugged. “It did at first, but I’m getting used to it. It’s actually quite liberating.” As she walked away, she overheard Mrs. Thompson muttering to herself, and Liz couldn’t help but chuckle. She knew this wouldn’t be the last curious or awkward reaction she’d encounter.

“Goodness, Liz, what happened to your hair? You really let it happened” exclaimed Karen, one of the more outspoken colleagues. Karen’s eyes widened, and she exchanged glances with the other women. “But don’t you miss your hair? What if it doesn’t grow back the same?” Another woman, Marcy, chimed in, “Isn’t your husband upset? I mean, men usually prefer women with hair, right?”

Liz didn’t feel a flicker of irritation. “He has been very supportive. Much more I suspect him having a crush on my shiny head. But in the end it’s just hair, it will grow back, if I want sometime.” The room fell silent for a moment, and Liz could see the wheels turning in their minds. Some of the women subconsciously touched their hair to make sure it hadn’t vanished, while others were clearly struggling to understand her decision.

“Would you stay bald?” Diane asked, quite irritated. “It takes a lot of courage, but I’ve to admit you look great.” Erotic was the word in her mind that she struggled to suppress. What if her husband Mike dreams of shaving her head. And how would it be to shave his head. She felt an unknown heat.

Liz smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude. “Thank you, Diane. That means a lot.”

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