Pampered & Polished 3 – Pampering of Charlotte

Promoted

‘My boss has told me that I need to look less like a librarian to justify and confirm my promotion,’ Charlotte explained to Tamara, patting the huge pile of hair coiled on top of her head.

As the new arrival lowered herself into the styling chair, my jaw dropped. Her boss must have visited some unusual libraries, I mused, if the staff dressed like Charlotte. She wore a dazzling white business suit. Her tailored blazer had a plunging neckline that revealed her ample cleavage, and her extremely short skirt dipped just below the hem of her jacket. Looking as she did, I was sure she must be a secretary. She may have been one of the hordes of secretaries that poured out of the college administration building at five-thirty every evening.

I had literally bumped into Charlotte in my haste to leave my stepmother’s Pampered & Polished beauty salon where I had just completed my first day of a summer job. The reason for my haste was to catch up with my girlfriend, Sally, who had just stormed out after coming to collect me for an evening meal at The Riverside pub. She had just seen that I had just had my hair cut shorter than she liked, and I was wearing an unflattering salon uniform. My stepmother had dictated both if I wished to continue working for her that summer.

I accepted that Sally had good reason to be upset but I thought she was being unreasonable by not giving me the opportunity to explain. Besides, once Charlotte had stepped inside the salon and indicated she wanted something done with her hair then, perhaps foolishly on my part, all thoughts of Sally quickly faded away.

As Charlotte exchanged pleasantries with Tamara, I turned my mind to the important matters in hand. Having her hair up in a bun gave credence to Charlotte resembling a secretary, but her hair was far more elaborate than most updos I had seen on a woman. Her strong centre parting might give a nod towards bookishness, but it served to give a foundation for the rest of her style. Studying its structure carefully, I marvelled as her hair swept down from that parting, and then gracefully curved back and upwards, arching up into the elaborate coiled structure perched on her crown.

Charlotte’s hair was a magnificent sight and, just for a moment, I reconsidered my long-held view that women wearing their hair loose was preferable to constraining it in any way. However, on balance, I decided her ample locks would look better streaming down her back, contrasting with the dazzling material of her white suit, rather than piling it up high.

Leading on from that delicious image, my mind was lost in thought as I contemplated just how long her hair might appear when it was all unfurled. However, I was jolted from my ruminations when my stepmother directed her attention to studying her prospective customer’s massive bun. ‘So, Charlotte, you’re considering a change of hairstyle, are you?’

Contemplated

‘Yes, Tamara, that’s it exactly, Charlotte confirmed. ‘After what my friend Emily told me after her visit yesterday, I was thinking of having all this lot whacked off,’ Charlotte elaborated, jabbing the pile of hair coiled on her head.

I watched in wonder from the side, her emotive language causing my heart to miss a beat and my jaw to literally drop. Was she seriously contemplating having all her hair whacked off?

Her friend, Emily, had come into the salon the day before and she had sold her long ponytail to Tamara for a considerable sum. I had no idea that hair was so valuable for use in extensions or that anyone collected it in the way Tamara had. As a lifelong lover of loose long hair on women, seeing it chopped off was certainly heartbreaking. However, to my surprise, I also found it incredibly arousing.

So, hearing Charlotte say she was considering have the same done to her ample hair was astonishing and, in the past, I would been first in line to prevent her from doing it. However, after the previous day when I witnessed Emily having her ponytail “whacking off”, I had become something of a convert to change. Not to mention, being incredibly excited, and feeling my blood flow faster.

‘William, stop gawping,’ Tamara discretely whispered in such a way that Charlotte did not hear.

Guiltily, I closed my jaw, blushing a little.

‘So, although Emily looks really cool,’ Charlotte asserted, ‘I don’t want a crewcut like you gave her. But I do need something that looks short and professional to appease my boss. My boss is planning to confirm my promotion tomorrow so that is why, after his “librarian” remark, I am here at short notice in the hope that you could do something for me straight away.’

‘Absolutely, Charlotte, that will be no problem at all,’ Tamara confirmed with a greedy glint in her eye, ‘and depending on the length and thickness of your hair and how much we cut off, then the sum we pay you should be substantial.’

‘Yes, Emily said you had been very generous, and that payment has been extremely helpful to her. So, thank you for that as she’s been really struggling with her bills recently,’ Charlotte mused. ‘I will admit that I had no idea hair was such a valuable commodity. However, with my well-remunerated job, I don’t really need the extra cash, so I’ll donate whatever you feel my hair is worth to charity.’

‘How very kind of you, Charlotte,’ Tamara conceded. ‘Well, we better have a look at all that hair and then we can decide how best to proceed. Please take a seat Charlotte and, William, could you help her release her hair so we can assess it.’

I had stood back at a respectful distance, watching the interaction between the two women and listening with interest. I had lost myself in their conversation, so it was a surprise to hear my name mentioned.

With my failure to respond, Tamara barked my name again. ‘William!’

Unravelled

‘What? Er, me?’ I stammered, as I collected my thoughts. ‘You would like me to undo madam’s hair, Miss Tamara?’

‘Yes, please, sweet William,’ my stepmother said slowly and patiently. ‘Sorry, Charlotte, the boy can be a bit slow at times,’ she chuckled.

‘Ah, bless,’ Charlotte acknowledged, giggling lightly.

For a “boy” studying computers at college, I was incensed by Tamara telling someone I was “a bit slow”! But I kept my cool, as my immediate concern was what to do next. What was my stepmother thinking by suggesting I unravel Charlotte’s hair? After all, what did I know about women’s buns? Or how to undo them?

Momentarily, I contemplated reminding my stepmother of my lack of experience and revealing my limited knowledge to Charlotte. Then I weighed what was the worst that could happen, against how exciting it would be to do as she had asked. So, giving the impression of supreme confidence, I stepped behind the chair where Charlotte was sitting. Nervously, delving with my fingers in her updo, I began exploring the intricacies of her elaborate tresses. It was minefield, both figuratively and literally, as it comprised a maze of long tresses and elaborate supporting structures.

‘Thank you, Sweet William,’ she said huskily, smiling at me in the mirror, picking up on the frustrating diminutive only my stepmother got away with using. ‘You have such a lovely gentle touch.’

‘Thanks, but actually, madam, it’s just William,’ I corrected.

‘Just William. Sorry, I must have misheard,’ Charlotte apologised. ‘Oh, that’s nice,’ she purred, and I was unsure whether she was referring to my name or my fingers in her hair. Whatever, I was making a hash of unravelling it. ‘You will find just three clips hidden away inside the structure, holding it all together,’ she explained helpfully.

I was grateful for the guidance and discovered them quickly. Removing them, one by one, I was unprepared for what happened next.

Like releasing coiled springs, Charlotte’s hair majestically unravelled. Around and around, it finally came to rest as two long thick plaits that framed her face, with the bound ends gathering in her lap.

‘Wow!’ I exclaimed spontaneously on seeing Charlotte’s magnificent braids, fingering them lightly in wonder.

‘Ah, you like my long hair, do you, Just William?’ Charlotte questioned coyly, dipping her head to one side as she studied me in the mirror. I tried to temper my blushing. ‘Perhaps I should not have my hair whacked off after all?’

‘Yes, it’s lovely, madam, and it is so wonderfully thick and glossy,’ I agreed. ‘So, yes, perhaps you should recons -’

Reconsidered

Out of Charlotte’s sight, my stepmother was desperately signalling me, forbidding me to tell a prospective hair donor not to sell her hair. Given where we were and the nature of Tamara’s business, I could see she had a valid point! It would be rather like inviting someone to a meat-laden barbecue and then suggesting they become a vegetarian!

‘So, did you have a style in mind, Charlotte?’ Tamara jumped in, as I continued to idly finger her magnificent braids.

‘Avoiding the convict look would be a good start,’ Charlotte tittered, undoubtedly referring to Emily’s buzzcut from the previous day.

Tamara gave a little polite laugh, while my mixed emotions came to the fore and I simply felt conflicted. However, I held back from saying she should give a crewcut appropriate consideration.

‘I was thinking,’ Charlotte continued, ‘perhaps longer and flowing through the top, neatly swept back away from the face, and then cut shorter on the back and sides. Sort of like my updo was when I came in, but without the massive bun perched on top.’

Tamara nodded wisely, tapping her chin, then looked in my direction. ‘So, Charlotte, rather like William’s hairstyle?’

Charlotte’s eyes locked on to my hair leaving me feeling bashful, under such intense scrutiny. ‘Yes, that sort of thing. Come closer, Just William, and let me inspect you, and see your hair in better light.’

I glanced at my stepmother for guidance. She smirked, and she motioned with her head for me to approach the seated Charlotte. Nervously I stood in front of her, arms by my side as if I were on parade. Charlotte raised a hand, palm down, and slowly flapped it up and down, a clear signal that I should bend down. ‘Well, I can’t see it up there, can I?’ she giggled, and Tamara joined in.

‘Sorry, madam,’ I apologised. I lowered my head but, off balance, I stumbled into a submissive kneeling position in front of Charlotte, feeling rather silly.

‘That is so much, better, Just William. Yes, it looks very nice and feels lovely,’ Charlotte confirmed as, uninvited, she raked her manicured nails through the longer hair on my crown before playfully fingering the clippered hairline at my nape. ‘And are you happy it?’

I took a deep breath before answering. Am I happy with my submissive position in front of you? Or my fresh short haircut? Perhaps your long fingers intertwined in my hair? Or simply the growing bulge in my shorts? To a varying degree, I could answer affirmatively to all those questions!

Reviewed

My mind was in disarray. ‘Yes, madam, I am very happy,’ I squeaked, presenting an ambiguous and uncontroversial stance with my response.

Charlotte released my hair, and I raised my head to look up at her. She leant her head to one side, which I interpreted as a mildly provocative gesture, and she giggled. ‘If it’s good enough for him, then it’s good enough for me,’ she happily declared, as I clambered awkwardly to my feet. ‘Arise, Just William,’ she said, but did not assist me.

‘Yes, the wedge is a fashionable and stylish choice for women at the moment, Charlotte, and it will suit you perfectly,’ Tamara approved. ‘You see, William,’ she went on, as an aside to me, ‘with the salon’s staff having stylish haircuts, our valued clients are given the opportunity to compare different styles and assess the skills of our stylists.’

‘Yes, he looks ever so cute,’ Charlotte simpered, dipping her chin and looking up at me with those piercing eyes.

I looked away bashfully, feeling a melting pot of emotions. Predominating, at first, was outrage that such an attractive woman was admiring my men’s haircut, and she wanted the same. Irritation with Tamara quickly followed, given that she had given me a fashionable feminine haircut, called a “wedge” of all things. Finally, I allowed myself to feel a touch of pride that a beautiful woman thought my smart haircut made me look cute in her eyes. As I said, a real melting pot of emotions.

‘Thank you, madam,’ I said smugly, managing to hide my blushes, and exchanging smiles with her in the mirror.

Tamara thrust a folded haircutting cape into my cape. I managed to flick it open like an expert and I draped it over Charlotte, being careful to avoid touching her anywhere that she might consider inappropriate. I adjusted her two braids, so they hung each side of her face, flowing down the cape. And then I pulled the cape’s fastenings tight behind her long smooth neck. It was impossible not to touch her skin as I secured the cape, so I adopted an air of professional detachment. Or at least I tried to.

‘Oh, Just William, you have such lovely soft and gentle hands,’ she purred, quivering with pleasure under my touch.

‘Er, thanks … er, madam,’ I managed, my professionalism slipping.

I rearranged her braids, so they were symmetrical, with their ends coiled neatly in her lap. I looked forward to watching my stepmother unravel them so see how long Charlotte’s hair really was. Given my past preferences, I felt a stab of sadness that Tamara would then be cutting off her lovely hair. However, despite that, I knew that I would find it arousing to watch Tamara harvest her hair as I had on previous occasions.

I looked up and, to my great surprise and even greater horror, Tamara thrust a large pair of scissors in my hand. ‘I’m sure madam would like you to do the honours, William.’

‘Wha … what?’ I queried, gobsmacked, my professionalism gone.

‘Ooh, yes, please,’ Charlotte squealed eagerly. ‘Come on, William. Whack it all off!’

My mouth opened and closed several times. How could she be so unemotional about the thought of losing her long hair when I, feeling overwhelmed, was melting into the salon floor.

‘Now, just remember to cut each braid as close to the hairline as you can manage, William,’ Tamara instructed, ‘and that will maximise its value, allowing us to donate the highest amount to charity on Charlotte’s behalf.’

I lifted one of her braids, pulled it taut, and placed the blades of the scissors around the hair just behind her ear. I did not mean to, and I tried to stop myself, but I licked my lips in anticipation.

The reality of the situation appeared to have finally come home to Charlotte. Her sassy behaviour had suddenly left her, and she visibly gulped. I worried if she may have reconsidered what we had agreed, and she was about to say something to stop me.

Derapunzelled

‘Please remain still, madam,’ I insisted and, before Charlotte could utter word, I closed the blades of the scissors around her braid with a resounding crunch.

Having never cut hair before, I was surprised how resistant it was to the scissors despite my best efforts. I opened and closed the blades several more times, and Charlotte’s anguish increased each time I did so.

I let out a contented sigh the moment I had severed the first of her braids and held it wondrously in my hand. It felt so heavy and, catching the light, it was almost alive. As I gazed upon it, time seemed to stand still.

Tamara gave a little cough to wake me from my reverie. ‘I’ll take that, thank you, William,’ she requested. ‘And, when you have a moment, the other one too.’

Encouraged back into action, I looked in the mirror to see the sad sight of Charlotte staring back. On one side, a neatly plaited braid remained, while on the other side the choppy and uneven lengths of hair barely reached her chin. I grinned sheepishly, but my client could barely muster a grimace.

Taking Charlotte’s other braid, I quickly pulled it taut and chopped through it as quickly as I could. I had balanced, if not remedied, her unfortunate lop-sided appearance. Tamara snatched the severed braid from me. In contrast to Charlotte, the broad smile of my boss suggested she was the cat with the cream as she lovingly coveted her haul. I imagined the length and weight of those braids made them extremely valuable for use in extensions.

Unexpectedly, I felt fingers entangling mine and looked down to see Charlotte was gripping my hand. Glancing in the mirror, I saw she was squeezing her eyes together, trying not to cry. ‘Just for a minute, please,’ she implored, looking for comfort after the savage transformation I had performed upon her. I beamed encouragingly and, this time, she reflected a genuine smile back.

‘Right, Charlotte, let’s sort out the mess that William has left,’ she chuckled, breaking the mood and, guiltily, I released Charlotte’s hand. She took a deep breath then sighed.

Wedged

Tamara spritzed Charlotte’s remaining hair with a water spray. She combed the damp hair back from her forehead which disguised the unevenness of the ends. The relief on Charlotte’s face was palpable.

Next, Tamara began lifting small sections of hair with a comb, comparing the length with a previously cut section, then trimmed it accordingly. I surmised she was cutting with artistic flair born of experience. However, from my scientific studies, I could clearly see the mathematical precision she was applying to create the look she intended.

Within minutes, Tamara had transformed the hair through Charlotte’s crown into sleek layers that smoothly swept back at the sides, above her ears. The layers finished in a distinct step above the hairline at the back of her head. Tamara used a different technique on the back and sides, lifting the hair and snipping off directly against the comb, leaving those areas contrastingly short.

Looking in the mirror, I realised Charlotte’s hairstyle was now remarkably like my own. If my stepmother followed through on what she did to my hair, then I predicted what might happen next. When she reached for the hairclippers, I knew I was right. In anticipation, I gulped and felt the increasingly familiar flow of blood to my crotch.

‘Now, just to tidy up the back and sides, Charlotte,’ she said sweetly, holding up the hairclippers, allowing her to view the device in the mirror. ‘Head down,’ she commanded.

‘Whoa!’ Charlotte screamed in alarm. ‘You can’t use those things on me. They’re for shaving men … shaving them bald.’

Clippered

At that moment when Charlotte refused to have hairclippers used on her, I was urging my body to behave itself. However, the image of my stepmother shaving Charlotte completely bald was a stimulating vision.

‘Not at all, Charlotte,’ Tamara chuckled condescendingly. ‘Hairclippers do not just shave. They also give a nice even finish on the shorter details, enhance the contrast with the upper layers, and provide a faded hairline. Just like you have seen on William’s lovely haircut.’

Charlotte was unconvinced. ‘Yes, but -’

‘May I make a suggestion, Charlotte,’ Tamara interrupted. ‘Would you happier if William tidied you up?’

‘Me?’ I questioned, a fraction of a second after the ramifications of what my stepmother had suggested had hit my brain. I had never handled hairclippers in anger, only cleaned them for the stylists during my first day in the salon. Was Tamara even crazier than I had suspected? With Charlotte’s fears of having them used on her, then she obviously would relish inexperienced me using them on her. I needed to stop the madness. ‘I have never -’

‘Yes, please,’ Charlotte simpered, eyeing me beseechingly in the mirror. ‘Will you, Just William?’

I was dumbfounded. Gathering my thoughts, I noted Tamara eyeing me carefully. ‘As I was saying, I have never heard of such a better suggestion,’ I lied, rescuing my outburst, but worried where it might take me … or what it might lead to with Charlotte’s hair.

‘No problem, Charlotte. It will be beneficial for William’s career development plan for me to demonstrate the technique, and then allow him to finish you off,’ Tamara explained smoothly.

I noticed that she had carefully omitted to say that I had never used hairclippers in the past or even touched them before that day. Also, I will admit that I was surprised to learn that I had a career development plan, as I was not even aware I had planned a career in hairdressing. But I accepted that Tamara’s words helped her maintain the pretence and keep our client happy.

As she had promised, my stepmother demonstrated how to use the hairclippers, so I felt as ready to proceed as I ever would. For additional support, I recalled the technique she had employed when she had cut my hair earlier.

‘Head down, please, madam,’ I ordered, managing to keep the tremor from my voice as I pushed down lightly on the back of Charlotte’s head to fully expose her nape.

She gave a funny little squeak at my touch and pushed back a little.

‘Resistance is futile,’ I quipped, remembering Tamara’s statement from earlier and I heard her chuckle behind me.

Charlotte obediently followed my directions, and soon her chin was pressing down on her breasts. Although it felt strange, even wrong, to have an attractive older woman under my command, I was enjoying the experience immensely.

The hairclippers vibrated in my hand as I turned them on. I carefully placed the blade on Charlotte’s neck and eased it upwards. A satisfying collection of fine snippets tumbled away, and even more satisfying bare patch of skin was revealed. The temptation to keep pushing upwards was almost overwhelming, but I resisted.

Repeating the action, carefully and precisely, I faded the hair covering Charlotte’s neck. It exaggerated the step that Tamara had created halfway up the back of her head. The contrast between that and her bald neck was as striking as it was enticing.

Charlotte had squirmed in her seat, and I was unsure how to manage her reaction. I patted her shoulder, in what I hoped she saw as a comforting gesture, and she rewarded me with a muffled murmur of appreciation from between her breasts.

Once I had shaved Charlotte’s nape to my satisfaction, Tamara directed me to her left side. I edged the hairline around Charlotte’s left ear, leaving the longer hair through the top, form a delightful arc as it swept back. Then I did precisely the same around Charlotte’s other ear.

I concentrated so hard on doing a respectable job, I had almost forgotten that my body was reacting to what I was doing to such an attractive woman! However, as I neared completion – checking and rechecking my work – I was growing more conscious of the tightness in my shorts. I tried to convince myself that it was only because of the proximity of a gorgeous woman. But I knew it was not just that, and that the cutting of her hair was playing a part in my arousal. Still, I stayed focused, professional, not wishing to embarrass myself.

‘Just a few finishing touches, madam, and then we’re done,’ I remarked, echoing Tamara’s words from earlier when she had cut my hair.

Concluded

I brushed the hair from Charlotte’s shoulders as I carefully inspected her hairline and the rest of her fresh hairstyle. My hands strayed down to the clippings gathered on her chest. There, I encountered a couple of very perky extremities under the cape that were not present when I had draped her with the cape.

I blushed, and I was about to apologise. Glancing at her in the mirror, she gave me an amused look in return, head coyly to one side, so I held my tongue to avoid digging myself into further trouble.

Tamara inspected my work and announced she was satisfied with my work. I undid the cape, sweeping it out of the way, and Tamara slipped me a hand mirror so I could show Charlotte the entirety of her fresh new look.

Charlotte looked carefully, examining every angle, her breath catching when she saw I had partially shaved the back of her head, reaching up wondrously with her hand. Throughout her close inspection she remained silent and stoney-faced, causing me increasing concern.

Finally, she took a deep breath. ‘I have one word to say to you, just William,’ she said, my worry peaking. ‘Perfect! You are a natural.’

Praised

I felt relieved after Charlotte praised my work. Gosh, a natural!

‘Yes, the young man has done a lovely job, Charlotte. You’ve every right to be pleased,’ Tamara said. ‘Ideally, you should return for a trim at least every four weeks, more often if you can, to keep it looking sharp. And after such a momentous change, we recommend a full conditioning treatment at your next appointment, once the hair has had a chance to settle down into its short contemporary style.’

‘Can the young man give me the full treatment on my next visit?’ she asked, aiming a sly wink in my direction. Her double entendre was unambiguous, but I assumed was an attempt at humour. However, I blushed again, and I nodded dumbly. ‘And this is for you, just William,’ she added, pressing a sizable tip and what looked like a business card into my hand. ‘And let me know if you want me to take you for a ride. Bye for now.’

‘Goodbye, madam,’ I responded automatically as Tamara escorted Charlotte to the door.

While sweeping the floor, I tried to decipher what had just happened, what had been said, and what had been meant.

Planned

I heard the door latch as our last customer of the day left, and I looked up. Charlotte was admiring her transformed reflection from the other side of the salon window and, on catching my eye, she gave me a little wave before she set off.

‘I meant what I said earlier, Sweet William. What you just did with minimal training was exceptional and, more to the point, you kept an important customer happy,’ Tamara praised. ‘You’re a natural.’

‘That’s what she said,’ I retorted, quick as a flash.

My stepmother laughed dutifully, as she had before when I said that previously, although I had no idea why.

‘So, my “career development” is coming along okay, is it?’ I ribbed my stepmother, given she was in such a good mood. She nodded indulgently, smiling. ‘Hang on, an important customer, you just said. Important? I thought she was a secretary?’

‘Whatever gave you that idea,’ she laughed. Well, her clothes and flirty manner with someone ten years her junior came to mind first, but I held my tongue. ‘Look at that business card I saw her slip you, when she handed you that monstrously large tip.’

I dug the card out from the pocket of my shorts. ‘Riverside Cars,’ I read out. ‘Charlotte Montgomery. Sales Director. But they are huge. They sell hundreds of cars!’ I ruminated on how one should not jump to conclusions based on appearance. ‘Ah, that’s what she meant by taking me for a ride.’

‘Yes, perhaps, that what she meant. But do not forget she wants you – personally – to give her the full treatment on her next appointment,’ Tamara quipped. I think you have made a conquest there, William.’

‘Nonsense, she’s far too old,’ I said quickly, blushing again. ‘Besides, I have a girlfriend already.’

Tamara scoffed. ‘Ah, yes, the pleasant Alice. Well, if you think she is still your girlfriend, don’t you think you better get into town and find her, given she went off in such a huff earlier. Oh, that was just before fate delivered Charlotte into your hands, wasn’t it?’ my stepmother added, stifling a giggle.

Tamara was absolutely correct. Alice and I had been meeting up to the pub for a meal after n I finished work. But when she came to meet me, she saw me in my new salon uniform, and was upset that Tamara had cut my hair short, so she was unimpressed. After remonstrating with me, she had stormed off and that’s when Charlotte had entered. ‘Yes, I should go after Alice …’

‘Off you go, sweet William, I can finish off here,’ Tamara surprisingly offered. ‘I wouldn’t want anyone to think that I would stand in the way of young true love.’

‘Actually, Tamara, could you give me a lift home when you go. I am feeling a bit tired after our busy day, and I need to iron my uniform before tomorrow. Also,’ I paused, as I reached for a bottle from the shelf behind reception, ‘as my hair has just been cut, I need to give it a full conditioning treatment, don’t I?’

Tamara chuckled, pecking me on the cheek. ‘Quite right too, sweet William.’

I had enjoyed my first day in the salon. I had witnessed two hair harvests, and I contributed to them both. Furthermore, they were incredibly exciting.

A day earlier, I would have considered that those events had been sufficient to fulfil my new-found desires. However, I was now anticipating the day after with equal relish. In my neatly pressed uniform and freshly conditioned short haircut, I wondered what the day would bring forth.

To be continued