Maintaining the Tradition

Prologue

It was a just another Sunday afternoon when I messaged my new girlfriend, Jasmine. Well, that is what she would have believed, but I had been preparing us for this momentous day.

We had met on a dating site just two weeks earlier and we had been on a couple casual dates, but we did not really know each other yet. I found her a little shy and reserved – the complete opposite to me – but I found her extremely easy on the eye. However, of greatest interest was her remarkably long straight hair. Thick and glossy, trimmed to perfection, and long enough for her to sit on.

I had been delighted to find her and, naturally, I was keen to move things along swiftly. She was clearly smitten with me, but then who could blame her.

Contact

I tapped out a text message, making it sound casual and accidental.

Hey babe! In the neighbourhood – mind if I drop by to say hi? x

After our light-hearted, rapid exchanges previously, there was a noticeable delay before her cool reply came through.

Just washed my hair. Maybe another time?

Really, I thought, that old one? I laughed off her objection as I pressed on.

Just around the corner so see you soon! x

A reply notification sounded, but I ignored it. I had driven nearly one hundred miles from my home to be “in the neighbourhood” just by chance. Not that Jasmine was aware of that, as I had led her to believe that I lived in the same town as her.

I took a couple of minutes to comb my hair and check my appearance in the car mirror, then I made my way to her apartment. She looked a bit flustered as she opened the door, but she accepted a peck on each cheek. Her hair smelt wonderful, and it did look freshly washed and dried. Looking past her and seeing a hairdryer left on a side table by a large mirror gave credence to her having just washed her hair. I would have been disappointed if her words had simply been an excuse to dissuade me from visiting.

‘Sorry for the intrusion, babe. As I was close, I just thought I would swing by,’ I said with a smirk, pushing past her and entering her apartment for the first time.

She laughed nervously. ‘No worries, Dennis, come on in. I was just styling my hair when you messaged.’

I plopped down on her couch and kicked my feet up on her coffee table. ‘Styling it?’ I snorted, shaking my head a couple of times. ‘I hate to break it to you, babe, but you are wasting so much time with all that hair, trying to make it look presentable. Time that we could be spending together instead!’

Jasmine laughed, although she looked put out by my unsubtle dig at her appearance. ‘Oh, it is just part of who I am. Everyone knows me for my hair, and I love having it long.’

I huffed with exasperation, pulling out my phone and starting to type. ‘Well, babe, I think you would look much better with it shorter. Besides, all that hair is impractical and time consuming. It could even be dangerous if you caught in a car door or something.’

She playfully rolled her eyes, barely suppressing her annoyance. ‘I’ll keep that in mind, but for now, I’m happy as I am.’ I had no doubt she would have been considerably more vocal with her irritation if she had not been so obviously into me.

I finished typing my message, smiling at the immediate and expected response, before slipping my phone back in my pocket. ‘Well, good news, babe. My sister, Emma, is really into hairstyling. As she is not busy today, she is coming over later to give your hair some much needed attention. She will work her magic, and you will have no more troubles with your hair.’

Jasmine’s eyes went wide. ‘Wait! What? I do not want a haircut! Please, Dennis, text your sister and tell her not to come over.’

‘Well, now I’m here, a coffee would be nice, babe,’ I requested, spying her expensive machine in the kitchen area of her open plan apartment. ‘Strong and black, but no sugar as I am sweet enough,’ I smirked.

Jasmine sighed before moving towards the kitchen and placing a pod in the machine. I took out my phone again, showing willing, as she prepared the coffee. When she placed my cup on the coffee table, she asked, ‘I hope your sister did not mind. I -’

But before I could respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. I grinned and hopped up to answer it, while Jasmine grumbled, clearly put out by my familiarity in her home.

Welcome

‘Hey Sis, right on time,’ I said, giving Emma a customary hug as I held the door open for her.

She sauntered in, full of confidence, her freshly cut high-fade haircut looking sharp as always. In combination with her signature look of a black leather jacket over a red lacy top, black miniskirt, and high leather boots, she exuded a presence that intimidated others with a look that I loved.

‘Looking good, Sis,’ I said approvingly, even though I had left her in the car only ten minutes earlier.

Emma preened. ‘Thanks, Bro. Thought I should dress up for the occasion.’

She carried her bag of hair cutting equipment and strode over to the kitchen table, setting it down with a clank. Jasmine trailed behind her, looking flustered.

‘Sorry, Emma, there’s been a terrible mistake – oh, hi, by the way – but your brother was supposed to call you back,’ she apologised, blushing a little. ‘You see, I don’t really want a haircut.’

Emma, with her back to Jasmine, had started pulling things out of her bag. On hearing my girlfriend’s words, my sister stopped abruptly, then she slowly turned to face Jasmine. She appraised Jasmine’s appearance, critically looking over outfit a couple of times, but with her eyes lingering on her hair for a little longer.

‘You may not want a haircut, Jasmine,’ Emma snapped authoritatively, ‘but you certainly need a haircut.’

‘That is what I have been telling her, Sis. Something nice and short,’ I sighed. ‘But will she listen?’

‘She will listen to me, Bro,’ Emma retorted, turning back to face my anxious girlfriend. ‘Won’t you, Jasmine?’ she added sweetly.

‘It’s just that I had it trimmed only last month, and -’

‘You should ask for your money back,’ Emma opined, running her fingers provocatively along her shaved neck.

Jasmine tittered nervously, unsure whether Emma’s unwanted judgment was a joke or not. ‘So, er, I am sorry, Emma but it has been a wasted journey for you. But, um, would you like a coffee before you leave?’ Jasmine asked, clearly attempting to take control of the unexpected situation she had found herself in. Unfortunately for her, she did not know my sister.

‘Perhaps, babe,’ I ventured in a conciliatory tone, ‘Emma could just give you a little trim so that her journey was not wasted?’

Jasmine was growing agitated. ‘But I told you, I have just -’

‘Look, I do not need to do anything drastic … even if your hair does desperately need it! So, just a little trim?’ Emma suggested, her tone implying that it was not up for debate.

Jasmine hesitated, her anguished expression revealing her concern that her refusal might jeopardise our relationship. I held her gaze, unblinking.

Emma pulled out a heavy oak dining chair from under the table and placed it in the middle of the room, acting like she owned the place.

‘Now, Jasmine, take a seat,’ Emma insisted, putting an arm around her and guiding her to the chair.

‘Just do as Emma says,’ I chimed in.

‘But I told you, Dennis …’ Jasmine whined, her voice tailing off as she reluctantly perched on the edge of her own dining room chair. I was beginning to tire of her constant bleating, but I satisfied myself by knowing it would be worth it. ‘Emma, I don’t really … er, need this …’

‘Arms out, Jasmine,’ my sister ordered, ignoring her pleas, as she unfurled and held up a large sheet-like garment in front of Jasmine.

My girlfriend obediently followed Emma’s instructions and found herself attempting to push her arms through the slots in the haircutting cape. Her expression disclosed that she knew something was off when her hands did not appear through any holes. Hastily, she attempted to withdraw her arms, but Emma was quicker. She tugged on the hidden cords of the specially adapted cape and then tied them around the back of the chair. She fastened the remaining straps to the chair itself. Despite straining against the cape, Jasmine was unable to move from the chair or extricate her hands.

‘Er, what … what are you doing?’ Jasmine sputtered, continuing to struggle. ‘Let me go!’

‘Hush now, Jasmine, it’s for your own good,’ Emma cooed, oblivious to Jasmine’s alarm. ‘I will be using sharp tools. So, if you suddenly moved, you could hurt yourself. This is just a precaution.’

I snickered at my sister’s ridiculous explanation as I watched her expertly restrain my girlfriend. Squirming on the chair, she was wide eyed with fear.

‘Ready?’ Emma asked pleasantly. Jasmine attempted to answer but she seemed unable to formulate any words. It was irrelevant anyway, as my sister had directed the question solely towards me.

I had propped up my phone on the coffee table and set it running to film the events that were about to take place before me. I settled back on the sofa my hands resting in my lap. ‘All good, Sis.’

‘Great, let’s get started,’ Emma announced excitedly.

Performance

‘No,’ Jasmine finally croaked. ‘Er, please, no,’ she managed to whisper in that irritating whiny voice.

‘Ah, bless,’ Emma soothed with a little chuckle, as she gathered Jasmine’s hair together at the back of her head and deftly twisted it into a ponytail.

I bit my lip in anticipation. Before Jasmine could even react, Emma whipped out a huge pair of shears from her bag and chopped the whole mass of hair right off at the base of her neck.

Jasmine wailed in shock and outrage, struggling desperately against her bonds. Emma just giggled and tossed the shorn ponytail over to me. I felt ecstatic and I knew my sister would be feeling the same. I caught the magnificent bundle of Jasmine’s former locks and ran my hands through the silky strands. While it rested on my lap, I felt myself starting to stiffen.

But Jasmine’s cries were getting louder and more hysterical. Although I found it moderately exciting, it became rather tiresome after a while. Emma rolled her eyes, clearly feeling the same as me, and she reached into the depths of her bag.

‘Now, now, Jasmine, let’s have no more of that,’ she demanded, pulling out a bright red rubber ball gag. Slipping it into Jasmine’s mouth, she swiftly fastened it behind her head. Jasmine’s eyes bulged and she let out a muffled scream of protest, still struggling futilely.

‘There, that’s better. Now we can all think more clearly,’ Emma tittered, and my excitement grew. ‘As we agreed earlier, you need a nice, neat haircut,’ she went on, accompanied by Jasmine’s muffled dissent, ‘although, yes, perhaps “agreed” is too strong a word, but we certainly discussed it. Or I mentioned it. Anyway, now I have trimmed your hair,’ smirked my sister, causing me to stifle a chuckle, ‘I will give you a neat haircut so you will look nice for my brother,’ Emma explained, ignoring the murmurs of disagreement. ‘Don’t worry, Jasmine, there will be no charge for my services.’

‘Ah, those mournful eyes,’ Emma commented as she selected large red hair clippers from her bag. The mournful eyes grew even wider. ‘Although it makes no difference to me, I would prefer to deal with your hair without the hindrance of my little toy in your mouth. Do you promise to stop your whining if I remove it?’ A couple of unladylike grunts from Jasmine preceded an attempt to nod her head despite the restriction of the haircutting cape. In was sufficient for Emma to get the message.

My sister mouthed a “sorry” in my direction as she put down the hairclippers and she unbuckled the gag.

Jasmine took a deep, relieved breath and then, predictably, began whining once again. ‘I never -’

Emma, looking menacing, dangled the red ball in front of Jasmine’s eyes where it swung like a pendulum. ‘No, no, no,’ she snapped, wagging a threatening finger.

Jasmine let out a long sigh and, allowing for the restraints of the cape and chair, curtly nodded her agreement.

Without further ado, Emma retrieved the powerful hairclippers and fired them up, into raucous life. Using a comb as a guide, she employed the edge of the clippers to swiftly carve a straight line through Jasmine’s hair. It went all around her head, high above her ears, leaving just a neat little cap of glossy hair on her crown.

Reversing her hold on the hairclippers, Emma began to run the blade steadily over the back of sides of Jasmine’s head and diligently shave off every trace of hair below the glossy cap she had created. Emma was focused as usual, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she worked in such a charming way.

Jasmine whimpers of despair were the only sounds to escape her lips, muffled to avoid Emma forcibly keeping her silent.

After a brief time only a wide expanse of pristine skin – dazzling white and completely smooth – remained around Jasmine’s ears, and all the way up her neck and along the back of her head. After making final adjustments, Emma stood back to admire her work.

‘Perfect, Sis … as always,’ I panted, undeniably aroused by the wonderful transformation I had witnessed, and turned on by the superb result that Emma had fashioned.

Assessment

‘What have you done?’ Jasmine cried, having seen nothing of what had taken place, other than witnessing the hair clippings bouncing on the cape and sliding to the floor. ‘Let me see.’

Emma retrieved a mirror from her bag and graciously held it up to allow the Jasmine to see her transformed appearance for the first time.

‘What the f-’

‘A cute little bowlcut that suits you perfectly,’ Emma interrupted, praising her own work, justifiably in my opinion. ‘Nice and short – well, shaved, actually – on the back and sides,’ she tittered, ‘with a saucy little bowl to top it off. Just as Dennis likes it,’ she added, winking in my direction.

Finally, Jasmine looked away from the mirror. Disbelief clouded her expression, and she looked utterly humiliated.

‘Aw, don’t cry,’ Emma cooed, as she undid the restraining cape. ‘You look utterly adorable.’

‘Get this thing off of me!’ she demanded, flapping her arms under the cape. ‘I hate it! I hate you!’ she ranted, glaring at Emma and I in turn.

We just burst out laughing. ‘Oh, Jasmine,’ I said condescendingly, shaking my head.

‘You two are completely crazy,’ my girlfriend ranted on.

‘Crazy?’ Emma giggled. ‘I have fun cutting off girls’ hair. Dennis enjoys himself while watching me do it. It is what we like to do. I do not see what is crazy about that,’ she shrugged.

‘We’re just a couple of charming, unattached siblings doing what we love,’ I added with a wink. ‘So, Jasmine, now you and I are a couple, why not make this a regular thing? Then you will be entitled to fit right in with us.’

Jasmine’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. ‘Wha … what are you talking about?’ she stuttered. ‘I will never – repeat, never – be doing this again! Get out, both of you, now! And I never want to see either of you again!’

Emma and I just laughed harder, as my sister finished putting her equipment back in her bag. ‘Alright, alright,’ I managed, calming my giggles, picking up my phone and stopping the recording. ‘If you insist.’

‘Goodbye, Jasmine,’ Emma said, giving her a condescending pat on her transformed head. ‘You really do look adorable with your cute little b-’

‘Out!’ Jasmine exclaimed, shrugging away Emma’s hand and pointing to the door.

I was disappointed that Jasmine had not given me the opportunity for a closer inspection of her hair. Chancing my arm, I said, ‘I don’t suppose I could just have a little feel of your -’

‘Out!’ Jasmine screamed. ‘Now!’

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Take care now.’

My sister and I directed one final taunting look at Jasmine’s miserable face and her freshly shorn head. Then we strolled out the door, arm in arm, still snickering to ourselves.

Epilogue

‘Another successful makeover, Sis,’ I said, holding up my wine glass across the table. ‘You really are the best.’

‘Yes, I know, but I couldn’t do it without my partner in crime, Bro,’ she said, raising her wine glass in acknowledgement. ‘And they all look so cute when we’re done with them.’

‘They certainly do, Emma,’ I agreed, ‘thanks to your well-practiced skills. I do not know what I would do without you.’

I had driven us swiftly away from Jasmine’s apartment and we had stopped off at a country pub for a celebratory meal before completing our long journey home.

‘Likewise, Bro. It has been this way since we were kids,’ my sister mused thoughtfully. ‘Remember when Mother first cut off my long hair to match the schoolboy bowlcut she always maintained on you?’

‘Sure, Sis. It was such a surprise when she did that,’ I recollected, taking a sip of wine. ‘Initially I was horrified as I loved your long hair but, once she had started, I enjoyed watching every second of your shearing, especially when she clippered you down to the skin on the back and sides.’

‘It was a surprise for me too,’ Emma giggled. ‘I always wondered why she did that, although I never asked her why. My weekly trims were as enjoyable for me to experience as they were for you watching. I was worried that if I questioned her about it then she would stop. Sometimes I wonder if that is what started it all for us. You know, like with Jasmine … and with all the others?’

‘Perhaps …’ I grinned ruefully. ‘Still, now look at us. Carrying on the family tradition, as it were, and enjoying it immensely.’

Emma grinned. ‘Here’s to our family tradition,’ she toasted, raising her glass again.

As if on cue, my phone buzzed with an alert from the dating app I had previously used to hook up with Jasmine. I flicked the screen and smiled. ‘Ah, another one, Sis,’ I said, showing her my next matched candidate. ‘Oh, and she appears very keen to make contact with me.’

My sister’s grin widened. ‘Wow, Sophie looks lovely … and such wonderfully long hair,’ she winked, ‘well, for now.’

After messaging Sophie and arranging to meet during the following week, Emma and I finished our meal, and I drove us home. We opened a bottle of wine and settled down to watch a replay of our day’s exploits on the large screen at home.

As the video began to play, Emma looked horrified. ‘Look at my frightful hair! You should have said it need a trim, Bro,’ she reprimanded me. ‘When did you last do it for me?’

I smirked as I inspected my sister’s immaculate haircut. A faded short back and sides that would look masculine on most women but served to emphasised Emma’s sharp and delightful features. ‘Sorry, Sis,’ I quipped, ‘it was nearly three days ago -’

‘Three whole days!’ Emma exclaimed in mock indignation. ‘Well, it will need a good cut before you introduce me to Sophie.’

‘It will be my pleasure, Sis,’ I said will genuine feeling.

‘Mine too, Bro,’ Emma giggled.

We topped up our glasses then enjoyed reliving Jasmine’s haircut, before indulging in more recordings from our ample collection.

THE END

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