Nicole finally gets her dream, to be shaved…

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Ever since I was little I had always wanted to shave my head, my earliest memories involved watching my brothers get their haircuts every summer by mom in the kitchen. Perched up on a stool with a soft mint-colored curtain wrapped around their neck held in place by a few clothes-pins, I would watch as mom worked systematically with a pair of cheap Wahl clipped on their heads. The low hum of the clippers was almost hypnotic, watching their hair fall away in clumps and tumble down the makeshift cape onto our white tile floor. Every summer my two brothers would each be clipped to the skin with no guard. Once one child was done she would take the hair dryer and a brush and clean their now rough, sandpaper-like head as best she could before unclipping them and sending them off to the bathroom for a shower while the other brother would take their place. The cape was thrown around them, secured, and straight down the middle, the clippers would plow, leaving that signature pale white scalp behind. Months of hair growth gone in the span of five minutes each. This was the ritual every summer after school let out and the temperature began to crest the 80s. I was always jealous for some reason, was it the sensation of the vibrating clippers running across my head that I craved? Was it the feeling of a fresh breeze across my naked scalp after mom was done? Was it the idea of no longer having hair to get in the way and fuss with every day? I could never find a concrete answer to my question, why do I want to shave my head so badly?
Flash forward 15 years and I regain awareness back in the present after re-watching this memory for the millionth time. I stare at my laptop and quickly remember what I was previously doing which caused this memory to play in the first place. I had just arranged to fulfill the wish I had been dreaming of since that day. I had found a forum for people with a hair fetish to chat and potentially meet up. After chatting with some people I found the one. By the grace of God, I had found a girl who owned a barbershop and after a lengthy discussion suggested that we meet up at her shop and she would give me what I had been craving since that day 15 years ago. She never gave me her name and only told me when to meet her and that it would be a night worth remembering…
I could barely sleep in the nights leading up to our arrangement and every time I thought about our upcoming appointment my panties would become moist and I would be overtaken by the thoughts of what was to come until I pleasured myself. Four days had gone by like this and it was finally here. We agreed to meet at her shop at 7:30, when her last customer left she would flicker the lights for a moment and that was my cue. The time was now 7:10 PM and I sat in my car, I had taken extra care to brush and wash my hair before coming. My long red hair was tied up in a ponytail reaching halfway down my back. My nipples pressed against my bra, preventing them from showing through my white turtleneck. I watched the minutes tick by. I could feel the moistness in my panties grow, threatening to seep through my tight grey leggings. I watched with great intent as the lights in the shop remained on, someone was in there getting their haircut while I sat impatiently, only able to dream about my appointment next. It was 7:27 PM and a young man waltzed out of the shop and to his silver hatchback a few cars down from me, he turned the key and drove away a moment later. Now the parking lot was empty except for me and a black sedan which I could only assume was the barber. The moments ticked by like years as I held my breath in anticipation, a car would occasionally pass by and break my concentration. Then the lights flashed on and off three times sending me into action, it was finally here…
I hurried out of my car and into the cool autumn night, my senses became hyper aware and I took a deep breath savoring the moment as I walked toward the shop. The glass front had their vanilla curtains drawn closed but the warm light could be seen shining through spilling onto the sidewalk. The closed sign hung ominously in front of the door. The air stung my nose but for some reason, I was not cold, I was feeling abnormally hot. I opened the door and was immediately greeted by the smell of Pinaud-Clubman talc. The warm air from a heater also greeted me, adding to the already warm feeling growing in my core. The white linoleum floor reflected the warm glow of the lights in the shop, the ceiling had much more typical white lights but they were turned off in favor of the lamps which were set up around the shop to give a much more warm and intimate atmosphere. I stood in what was a waiting room with five black chairs and a receptionist desk between the waiting room and the main shop floor. There was a single retro square body barber chair at the back of the shop with a large mirror and shelf, its bright red leather upholstery, and silver/porcelain accents screaming my name. But before I could answer the chair’s call I heard an actual voice call my name.
A voice called from the back of the shop next to the chair. She was tall and slim, a short leather skirt covered her wide hips and a red ribbed tank top hugged her slim body and held back a pair of large breasts. The red matched the chair perfectly and her pale white skin contrasted the outfit perfectly. On top of her head was a waterfall of auburn hair. Shiny like silk, it swayed and flowed off he shoulders as the click of her black shoes pierced the following silence and echoed through the quiet shop toward me. I placed my purse and phone down on one of the chairs next to me quickly and I walked to meet her. I met her right past the reception desk and she stopped less than two feet away. She examined me up and down with the eyes of a hungry animal who had just found its prey. She started at my brown UGGs and worked her way up, past my leggings, stopping for a moment to admire the seepage which had finally soaked through my panties from all my anticipation. She continued past my white turtleneck and stopped at my hair, my dark red hair, recently died and still vibrant like freshly spilled blood illuminated by the warm glow of the lamps. I could only let out a high-pitched peep, my mouth had become so dry it was hard to speak.
She asked me to de-robe and like I was put under a spell I obeyed, a moment later I now stood before this mistress completely vulnerable in my naked body. My milky white skin contrasted my hair even more noticeable than when it was just my face showing, my B cup was small in comparison to her gorgeous D cups which were held back by her tank top. My bald vagina would soon match my head as she smiled and led me to the back of the shop and into the waiting chair. with A hand for support, she helped me up like a princess and I settled into the warm leather seat and leaned back against the chair. I felt my body sink as I had just gotten done with a thousand-mile journey, a 15-year journey. Her warm smile reflected off the large mirror and shelf which I had now noticed was carefully laid out with the tools for tonight’s appointment. A large set of maroon Oster clippers, multiple blades, scissors, a straight razor, and a strap-on. She was going to take care of her client like she wanted that tip. My attention shifted back to her as she walked over to the wall next to the mirror and grabbed a large shiny cape off the wall with some weight. Throwing the cape over me I realized it was latex as it lay on top of my small frame like a weighted blanket. My heart began to race as she took a white strip of paper around my neck, pulling it snugly and tying it before pulling the cape up and securing it around my neck with an audible click.
Without a word, she walked to the counter in-front of me and grabbed a pair of scissors. She turned and bent forward as her cleavage dangled and her hair fell to either side of her face-framing her passionate eyes and inviting smile.
“Tell me what can I do for you?”
Such as a simple request out of nowhere, my thoughts raced for a moment stunned by her actions. I thought she knew why I was here, why was I naked if she didn’t, I questioned everything for a moment before realizing – she just wants me to tell her what I want. Simple, my anxiousness got the better of me here and I needed to live in the moment and not as a spectator. I responded with determination:
“I want you to shave me, buzz off all my hair and then shave me bald, I then want you to fuck me right here in this chair!”
I was taken aback by what I had just commanded of her, I just let my heart yell its desires without any tact, without any filter.
“With pleasure~”
She slipped behind me and reappeared in the mirror, her eyes locked onto my ponytail. She played with it in her hands, its silky crimson strands falling between her fingers like sand. She took my hair in her left hand and began to cut at its base with the scissors in her right. I felt the immediate tug as she began her work, the scissors were sharp, and the cold, thin blades brushed up against my neck as they chewed away at my ponytail. An electric shock ran through my whole body as it trembled in excitement. My breathing, or more like panting began to match the rhythm of the scissors chewing through my hair. Systematically she worked right to left, freeing over 2 feet of hair from my head, years of growth going.
*Shick, Shick, Shick…*
I felt the weight of my ponytail lift and my remaining hair drift towards my ears. My ponytail lay limp in the hands of the auburn stylist who had yet to give me her name, she admired it before meeting my eyes in the mirror and tossing it to the ground behind her. Taking her brush she worked the remaining shaggy bob which extended just to my ears. My hair looked rough in places but was still silky smooth beneath her touch. She brushed my hair for some time rhythmically before placing the brush on the counter and grabbing the star of the show. A large pair of maroon Oster clippers.
She looked at the collection of blades on the counter, her fingers dancing from attachment to attachment getting progressively smaller. Their metal shone in the light and invited the thought of what was next to my head. My hands massaged my inner thigh and up to my breasts, framing my clit but not yet exploring it. The barber in her leather skirt grabbed a very thin and shiny blade, without turning to me she then attached it to the clippers, brushing it a few times and snapping it into place with a loud POP.
“A 00000 blade”
Her words echoed in my head, a 00000 blade is as short as you can get without a razor, and she wasn’t going to mess around with a simple 0 or a 1. She was taking my desire to shave me passionately. My heart pounded and I wiggled deeper into the leather chair like I was getting ready to watch my favorite show. I could feel the leather becoming damp and slippery. My hands now began to explore my clit and my breathing picked up again as she approached. Seeing the movement under the heavy latex cape she smiled again and leaned into me, kissing me on the forehead softly, long enough for me to smell her perfume and gaze once again upon her cleavage before continuing behind me. Taking the clippers she turned them on with a nostalgic pop, the humming filling the room and taking me back momentarily to my childhood, finally, I was the kinda perched on the stool ready to be shaved.
She placed the clippers onto my forehead and in front of my hairline, their blades barking at the waiting mane before them. I could feel her press them with a little force against my forehead, the vibrations causing me to melt in the chair even more. It was time:
“Do it- please… shave me”
Those words spilled out of my mouth and with no response besides a glint in her eyes as she met mine in the mirror she drew the clippers back into my hair slowly. The hum of the clippers quickly became muffled as they mowed into my locks, they were unstoppable, a milky white strip reappeared behind the clippers as they plowed deeper across my scalp towards my nape, stopping at my crown. My crimson tresses poured down the cape to either side of me and spilled onto the shop floor at the feet of the angel answering my desires. The pale white strip gleamed ever so slightly in the warm light, the texture of my peach fuzz was hardly evident but I knew it wouldn’t survive the night. She continued, starting a little to the left she plowed another path through my hair, and I climaxed in the chair as the vibration reverberated through my body and into my core. I shook in the chair for a moment as juices came forth beading and pooling on the leather chair beneath me. She moaned with each pass as she examined her work, occasionally running a few fingers across the patch she had just cleared. I could feel the stubble rub against her fingers like velcro. She worked with loving care, the milky white stripe grew with each pass as she methodically shaved me down to a stubble that not even mom could get close to with her grocery store clippers. The blades warmed up with each passing minute as I was shaved, turning my head to the left and then right she worked around the sides and back of my head. When she pressed my head forward to shave my nape I admired the pool of hair on the cape and around me. After cleaning up the back and sides of my head she positioned me back to a neutral position and ran the clippers once again over my round, now naked head. She pressed the clippers into my skin with some force and I saw what seemed like dust being flung into the air as she buzzed every last strand off my head that the clippers could reach. Pass after pass she took her time, where mom would take 5 minutes per boy, she made this Oster head massage last what felt like an hour.
I was in heaven, admiring my smooth almost hairless head, all I could see was the soft peach fuzz that remained. The ocean of hair around the chair was parted as the mistress turned off the clippers and set them on the counter. She used a soft brush to take off any lingering hair that the clippers didn’t fling to the floor. She then went to the counter again and grabbed and the shaving cream. Pumping the lather into her hands first, then massaging the cool lather all over my scalp. Taking her time to rub it in, I could hear the friction of my stubble against her soft silky hands as she massaged the lather in. Finally, she took a towel and wrapped it around my shoulders laying it on top of the latex cape which hid my naked and trembling body. She produced a ivory-hilted straight razor and began to shave me. The scratching sound was something akin to taking your nails and dragging them across your skin softly. Mom never took my brother’s hair that far, the sound was soothing, like someone scratching your back. The sensation traveled through my body leading to another climax. I struggled to hold still beneath the razor’s edge. Behind the blade, I could see my shiny head come into view with each short stroke, the scratching sound growing louder as it approached each ear starting with the sides and back of my head. Then she did the top, repositioning herself in front of the chair she leaned in close almost straddling me, her chest nearly burying itself in my face. I could smell the Lilly of the Valley perfume she was wearing as its soft floral scent mixed with the lather that she scraped away at. She started towards my crown and drew the blade again in short strokes towards my hairline. This process took much longer, closer to 30 minutes but when she was done I was bald. She removed her chest from my view as I could take in my new look. My head gave no friction beneath her hand as she massaged my bare scalp with a towel whipping up the remaining lather behind me. I couldn’t help but reach a hand up and feel my head. Such a unique feeling, my bare scalp, bald, smooth, slippery beneath my hand I could make out every callus and ridge on my fingers.
While I admired a dream come true the barber grabbed the final tool of the night and slipped it on. She slipped her leather skirt down and with it her panties, removing her tank top and bra her D cup boobs spilled out. Eight inches in length this flesh-colored member attached to the leather support she fastened around her waist. I knew my night was just about to climax as she lifted the leather cape over my legs and spread them, sliding forward I was ready to receive her dripping with anticipation for this final act. Slipping the member into my clit I softly moaned as ecstasy overtook me. Pounding, again, rhythmically like when she was chewing through my ponytail she worked my pussy with the strap-on. Rocking her hips deeper and deeper into my pelvis I couldn’t help but yelp and moan every few pumps. Her hands reached out and she began to stroke my smooth head, reminding me of what had transpired mere minutes ago. I took my hands and cupped my breasts, squeezing them like a stress ball taking in every moment, every sensation. My dreams, realized more erotically and perfectly than I could have ever imagined, my head feeling both her silky smooth hands and the leather of the barber’s chair as I sank lower into the seat submitting to the pleasure…

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