Moonlight: Part 7, The Bitch (Final)

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Part 7, The Bitch

Working with Liz was wonderful.  Sure much of the actual work was dull as hell.  Endless folding of stacks and stacks of plain white towels, but I could talk with Liz as we did it.  Some of it was mildly interesting, like learning that you had to shut off the water to all the outside faucets and let the water out of them to prevent them from freezing and busting.  I was even able to use some of my data analyst skills to help with tracking potential werewolves.

Living together was good too.  Liz indulged me in making vegetarian meals, always eating them and complimenting.  We took a day off from the constant laundry to go apple picking.  We went for hikes practically every evening.

Sometimes Liz would get so close to me, almost touching and it would drive me insane.  Not that Liz didn’t also sometimes simply touch me, I’d come to understand that werewolves are just very touchy-feely creatures, but there was something about the near misses that was especially electric.  The lips that come so near, but never make contact.


It was one evening in front of the fire that I finally put it out there.  Liz was in her usual spot on the Morris chair, her feet up on the ottoman.  I sat on the couch.  She was about halfway through her sherry when I broke the silence.

“Why don’t you join me on the couch.”

“And why would I do that puppy?”  Liz asked in the infuriatingly sexy amused tone.

“Because you like being near me.”  I said, trying to sound alluring.

“Do I?”  Liz raised an eyebrow.

“I’m pretty sure you do.”  I said, even though I found it somewhat hard to actually sort through the scent from Liz.

Liz chuckled and turned to look at me.  The smile on her face looked like it should belong to the devil himself.  She stood slowly, and walked over to the couch standing directly in front of me.  She bent forward and firmly planted each of her hands on the couch back just past my shoulders.  Teasingly close, but not touching me.

Liz was bent so far forward, her head was just above my lap.  She began to draw in a long breath through her nose.  Drinking in my scent.  She raised her face gradually to mine.  She paused when our eyes met, our noses almost touching, our lips tantalizingly close.  Releasing the long breath she’d taken into my face ever so slowly.

Then she teasingly moved her face to the side.  Her lips so close to my check, as they passed, that I could feel the heat from them.  When her lips were just next to my ear, she stopped.

“I don’t sleep with puppies who go around with crickets in their hair.”  She whispered so softly it was just a breath.

Then she stood up as though nothing at all had just happened, picked up her sherry, and walked off towards her private suite.

I sat there shaking for a few, my heart pounding, trying to catch my breath.  I finally managed to get up on my legs that felt like jello and tossed a bucket of sand over the fire.  I headed to my room to take care of a need that was impolite to deal with on the couch.


The next couple of days, Liz just acted as though nothing had happened.  I could smell it though.  I knew she was thinking about it.


It was the morning of the third day after the moment on the couch that Liz simply made the announcement over breakfast.

“Get showered and dress decently today, not in old clothes for yard work.  We’re going to town.  We have appointments with Danny.”  She said all this as simple statements of fact, not open to discussion.

For reasons I can’t explain, I simply accepted it and did just go back to my room and start getting ready.  I took longer than I should have trying to figure out what was right to wear on this outing I was so not emotionally prepared for.  I finally settled on tight black jeans, a black v-neck t-shirt, and black converse to act as the neutral base that I put a brightly colored oversized vintage sweater on top of.  It was a tad hipster, but cute.

When I met Liz downstairs, she of course was elegant as ever.  She had on a calf length brown corduroy skirt, silk paisley blouse in autumnal tones, and a burgundy leather blazer.  I couldn’t help but feel we looked like we came from completely different worlds.

We silently headed to the car, to head to town and an appointment I hadn’t asked for.  It wasn’t till we were out on the highway that it finally occurred to me that I should say something.

“I don’t want a haircut.”  I said softly.  “How about I just do some window shopping while you get your hair done?”

“While I understand that you don’t want a haircut, you have an appointment because you need one.”  Liz stated.  “And we are going to a way too small town for window shopping.”

I stewed over how to respond till Liz was parking the car.  When I did respond, it wasn’t particularly elegant or even original.

“I just really don’t want to get a haircut.  I like my hair long, and I’ve already lost several inches of it.  It used to be all the way down to my waist and barely had any layers.”  I said trying not to sound like a whiny child, but suspecting I was failing.  “I always have gotten so many compliments on it.”

“Oh puppy.”  Liz said in an exasperated tone and reached over and lifted up a lock of my chestnut hair.  “You have to get a haircut.  The ends have gotten straggly from having had to cut mats out of it twice, and you’ve got split ends from all the brushing and tangling.

“You do have a choice though.” Liz continued.  “You can keep being a nervous puppy, and ask Danny just to trim it so that it’s a bit healthier.  And each month it will get matted up with all kinds of debris.  And every month the mats will have to be cut open to release the debris, and very gradually, your hair will get more straggly and slightly shorter.

Or.” Liz emphasized it in a way that screamed loud and clear that she thought it was the better option.  “You can be a brash bitch and do what has to be done and get a real haircut so that you aren’t walking around with crickets and twigs stuck in your hair for days.”

Then Liz grabbed a handful of my hair to use as a handle and leaned in close with her lips practically brushing my ear.  My heart pounded so I could feel my pulse in my neck.

“Do you think I want that in my bed, puppy?”  Liz whispered.

As soon as the whisper was over, Liz released me and just casually got out of the car.  I sat there, my heart still pounding.  I tried to calm myself, wishing I had enough privacy to relieve the state Liz had left me in.  

Slowly, I got out of the car and followed Liz.


“Hi Danny.”   Liz said as we walked into the small but expensively decorated salon.  

Danny put down the paper towel and windex he’d been using and took off his gloves.

“You’re early.”  Danny teasingly chastised as he gave Liz a quick hug.

“Would you prefer if we were late?” Liz teased back, “because we could go off and have some lunch.”

“Heaven forbid,”  Danny said melodramatically playing along, then added more seriously.  “It’s fine, come on to the back and I’ll get you shampooed.”

Liz smiled and started taking off her leather blazer, and said to me as she draped it over the back of the couch.  “Take a seat and relax puppy.  Your turn’s next.”

“Let me guess: short enough not to bug you; long enough to cover the scars; and style is up to me because I’m a magician; right?”  Danny asked as Liz strode towards the back.

“Both a magician and psychic,” Liz joked as she sat in the shampoo chair and leaned back.

When Liz and Danny came back to the styling chair, where was Liz was draped in a red cape, I watched as Danny took off the towel and combed out Liz’s short hair.  Wet and slicked back, the hair no longer hid the scars that ran across Liz’s scalp.  One even came down onto her forehead.  They were smaller and neater looking than the scars on my arm, or the one’s I’d seen on Steph’s leg and Gerald’s shoulder.  I wasn’t sure if it was just luck, or because her parents had sprung for a very good plastic surgeon when it happened.

I watched as Danny began to trim about an inch or so off of the ends of Liz’s hair.  He seemed to be pretty much following the lines he must have set the previous times he’d cut her hair.  The back and side he cut in a pretty straight forward manner, simply keeping them a couple of inches long, but when he got to the crown, it was very obvious that he was paying special attention to making sure the hair wanted to flop over in the direction of the worst of the scars.

I still hadn’t quite decided what I was going to do when it was my turn, but at least I figured Danny was good.  Of course I’d kind of already known that.  Liz’s hair always looked good, the haircut he gave Steph had been good, even if it had been rather traumatic for Steph, and the trim he gave me was fine.  Having a competent stylist available eliminated one obstacle, or perhaps excuse, to getting a short haircut.

Mostly, I wanted to request a trim, because I loved my hair and wanted to keep it.  Well really, I wanted to avoid getting a haircut at all, but I wasn’t being given that option.

But, I had this huge desire to please Liz, and she obviously wanted me to get a “real” haircut.  And if I was interpreting the hints she’d dropped correctly…

I sat there watching the dark hair raining down as Danny snipped away at it and wondered how much I would have to get cut for Liz to think it qualified as a “real” haircut.  Shoulder length, that I would still have to unmat, but would be faster.  Bob, like Grace and Laura who still had to spend time and get help from each other to get their hair combed through.  I suspected she meant short like hers, short enough that I could comb it myself after changing.  Of course, I assumed she didn’t mean short like Christine who didn’t even really need to own a comb. 

Danny was blow drying Liz’s hair.  Though he was using a round brush to give it volume and encourage it to bend in the direction he wanted, it already seemed to want to fall the right way just from the cut.  I knew Liz’s haircut would be over soon, and that I had to make up my mind.  

I watched as all too quickly, Danny added a little texture and extra touches.  Then I heard him turn on his little humming trimmer and run it over Liz’s neck.  And like that the red cape was being whisked off Liz, the dusting of short dark hairs on it spilling to the floor.  They spent a few minutes with the hand mirror, as Liz praised Danny’s skill.  And then…


And then it was my turn.  I stood up, still not sure what I was going to do as Liz approached the waiting area.

“Know what you’re doing puppy?”  Liz asked so softly I was pretty sure Danny, who was doing a quick sweep up, couldn’t hear.

“I can’t decide.”  I confessed, as Liz got so close to me I could feel her body heat.

“This is your opportunity to show me you’re not just a scared bashful puppy,”  Liz whispered.  “This is your chance to prove you can be a bold bitch.”

Then she stroked my arm, sending a shiver through me.  I looked in her eyes, seeing some of my passion reflected there.   I stood there for a moment drinking in her scent that had a hint of sex.  I stood there knowing Liz could smell the cum between my legs.

I swallowed.

“Ok, I’m ready for you Diana.” Jerry smiled enthusiastically, showing no signs that he’d picked up any of the whispered exchange between Liz and me.  “Are we doing the same as last time?”

“Actually, I was thinking something a little different,”  I said to Danny, but glanced over at Liz who was taking a seat next to her jacket and picked up a magazine, her lips had a devilish smile.

“Ok, come on over here and we’ll do a quick consult.”  Danny patted the styling chair. “And tell me what you were thinking.”

“It’s kind of been a pain to comb out and take care of,”  I said nervously as I sat down.  “How short do you think I could go and it still look good?”

“Making it look good is more about shape than length.  The main thing is you have such charming delicate features I wouldn’t want too much height on top.  It would overwhelm them.  You let me know how short you want to go, and I’ll make it work.  Do you have pictures or anything?”

“No, I wasn’t really sure about…”  I fuddled for words, because I didn’t want to say that I’d only just decided to go short just because I desperately wanted to please Liz.  “I just want it short enough to be really easy to comb out.”

“Easy is a really relative term.  I could take it up to your shoulders, and it would be easier than it is now, but it would still take some time.”  Danny points out.  “And do you just want it to tangle less, and do you want it wash and go generally?”

I looked over at Liz, hoping for some guidance.  Her expression was simply a challenge.  God help me, I decided to meet the challenge.

“I want it very short, very easy.  I want to step out of the shower, rub it off with a towel, and not even touch my comb.”  I said boldly trying to hide that my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

“Rub it with a towel, and not touch a comb is like an inch or less all over.”  Danny warned me speaking slowly.  “Is that what you mean?”

“If you really meant it when you said I could just pick a length and you could make it work.”  I challenged back.

“You’re sure about everything about 1 inch long or so.”

“Fortune favors the bold.” I quoted and hoped it was true, as I looked over to a smiling Liz.

I noticed Danny was looking at Liz too, with a worried expression.

“Diana definitely can carry off a very bold look.”  Liz said, giving the plan her blessing.

“Ok, if you’re sure.  I guess I don’t need to wash this whole length.”  Danny said, still sounding like he didn’t a hundred percent believe I actually meant it.

He picked up a white cape though, shook out it’s fold with a snap, and let its billowing breadth drape over me.  He snapped it tightly around my neck, which probably wouldn’t have bothered me except for my nerves being so on edge.  

Danny more arranged my hair than combed it, spreading out the long beautiful chestnut waves over the cape.  I tried to swallow, but the cape was too tight.  Danny lifted a lock from my crown, it looked so soft and so perfect.  Danny lifted his scissors and looked me straight in the eye through the mirror pausing, giving me a chance to change my mind.  I just stared at the lock that dangled from his fingers.

Danny closed the scissors.


Danny tossed aside my beloved hair, and lifted another lock.  This time he didn’t pause, just closed the scissors with a decisive snap and more of my hair was discarded to the floor.

I watched as Danny snapped the scissors over and over and lock after lock was simply tossed to the side of the chair.  My hair was being quickly reduced to a length similar to Liz’s, but much rougher.

On the sides of my head, Danny held the hair out paralel to my shoulders with his fingers and snipped over them.  The dry loose hair fell in waves to my shoulders, and slid to my lap or the floor.  Looking down at my lap, I wished I’d thought to ask to keep a ponytail of the warm colored locks, even though I knew it was too heavily layered to donate.

I looked up at the mirror as I saw the last long lock held in front of my ear severed.

“Ok, let’s go to the shampoo station Diana.”  Danny said ever so cheerfully even though I could smell how nervous and worried he really was.

Laying back in the shampoo chair, with my eyes closed, I tried to let go of some of the tension I was sure Danny’s fingers could feel as he worked the lather against my scalp.  

Back in the chair I watched in the mirror as Danny combed through my suddenly short locks.  Then I felt his fingers pressed firmly against my head as the snipping began.  The wet locks plopped down onto my shoulders, letting me know that the hair on the back of my head was being reduced even further.  As Danny worked back there, I realized that the reason his fingers were pressed so tightly against my head was because he was cutting my hair to the width of his fingers.  As Danny made his way around the side of my head, I watched as most of the hair Danny had left me with after the rough cut was being sliced off, leaving behind just a bare covering of hair that clung to my head.

I willed myself not to cry.  I had asked for this after all, even if I had asked for it for all the wrong reasons.

After cutting all the hair on the back and sides close to the head, Danny started working on the top.  He lifted the locks up with his fingers and gave them a twirl, holding them in a tight twist as he snipped off most of the length to about an inch above my scalp with the tips of his scissors.  As the locks fell, the hair on top also lay close to my head, though with a little more texture than the sides.

In the front, Danny combed the hair forward onto my face, then snipped at the edges of it there.  The cold metal blades pressed against my cheek and forehead as he trimmed the sides into a sharp line and the bangs into a jagged one.

When Danny blow dried it, he didn’t bother with a brush, just rustled it into place with his fingers as the hot air swiftly removed the moisture.

“Are you ok with clippers?” Danny asked cautiously, a slight new odor of anxiety coming off him.  I guess he was remembering Steph’s last haircut.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”  I said

Even though I hated that my hair was suddenly short enough for clippers, it wasn’t like the sound was going to give me flashbacks.  I’d never had my hair cut with clippers before.

They were loud, louder than I expected as they clunked on then hummed like and angry hoard of wasps.  They had a plastic attachment on them, so I didn’t feel the bare blades. Danny ran them up the back of my head like a comb, going up against the grain.  He took up behind my ear, flicking them away at around half way up.  Then he switch to a different plastic attachment, and flick them up through the hair again, not going as high.

When Danny took the last attachment off and didn’t put on a new one before approaching me.  I swallowed, it once again getting caught in my throat because of the too tight cape.  I was suddenly thinking very hard about the story Steph told and thinking about the bare blades of the clippers being pulled across my whole head.

I closed my eyes as I heard them click on, and begin to hum.  They were warm from running for so long as they touched my neck.  They scraped along, I knew they’d be leaving nothing but stubble in their path.  I sighed in relief when it proved to be a short path and the clippers were flicked away.

I watched in the mirror as Danny went over everything with thinning shears, and snipped over the area he’d already cut with clippers with the tips of his scissors.  Adding softness he said.  Then he finally used the trimmer around the edges.


“So,”  Danny asked very nervously, holding the hand mirror up and showing me the back, “what do you think?”

“WOW” was all I could say.

“Good ‘wow’ or bad ‘wow?’”  Danny sounded even more nervous and the anxiety smell that poured off he was nearly overwhelming.

“Shocked wow?”  I said unsurely.

“Danny, it’s completely adorable.  You cut it so well.”  Liz was suddenly behind me giving off her warm protective vibe, her hand on my shoulder reassuring me.  “You’re going to love this so much once you get over the shock Diana.  It’s so bold and fresh.”


The car ride back to the institute was a blur. The main thing I remember was checking the vanity mirror repeatedly, having to check to make sure it wasn’t just a dream.  Each time, my hair was still gone, nothing left but a crop that lay tight against my head.  Once we got there, Liz led me to her rooms.


I suddenly found myself being undressed swiftly.  I stood there naked as Liz circled me, shedding her own clothing.

Then I felt her breath from behind me on my bare neck.   Her hands caressing my thighs and derriere.  She started by nibbling my ear.  Her face against the back of my head.

“Isn’t this so much better?”  She whispered against my ear.  “You’ve finally accepted what we are.  My wonderful bitch.”  

She reached around the front of me, turning me by my chin.  She pressed her mouth against mine and began kissing.

She reached down with her long fingers and inserted them into my wet fold, beginning to rub rhythmically.  As I orgasmed, she held me up with her other arm.

Liz lifted me and carried me to her bed.  I lay in the middle of it recovering from the orgasm that had left me breathless.  When I was breathing normal, we started kissing again.  I kissed my way down Liz’s warm soft body drinking in her scent.

When I reached her pelvis, I spread open her legs and placed my face into her neatly trimmed folds.  My tongue found her swollen clit and I began to suck as my finger massaged her labia.  Her hands were stroking my short hair as she orgasmed.

I let her recover, but wanted seconds, I started kissing her, and running my hands through her soft freshly cut short hair, though it was long in comparison to mine.  The back of her neck just ever so slightly stubbly where Danny had used the trimmer.

Liz began to suck my nipples.  Her hand reaching down once again, this time finding my hard clit instead of going into my fold.  She pressed it and rubbed it hard with her fingers as her teeth teased my nipple.  My second orgasm, deeper than the first.

We lay in bed for hours, just exploring each other’s bodys, basking in each other’s scents.


(Happy Halloween)

5 responses to “Moonlight: Part 7, The Bitch (Final)

  1. Hi Ginger,

    I have eagerly followed each installment of your Moonlight series. I was intrigued by the werewolf theme–so different from the usual haircut stories. I commend your originality and your ability to craft a compelling tale. I look forward to reading more of your stories in the days and weeks to come.


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