Pawn Shop Pruning

Pawn Shop Pruning

 

By Shorngirl

 

         “What can I do for you?” The man said as he stood from his chair, surrounded by a myriad of goods and equipment. Below the glass countertop he rested his palms against, were rows upon rows of watches, rings, and bracelets.

         “I’m not sure you can help me, but I’m a bit short this month and I was wondering if there’s anything you could take as collateral for a loan?”

         “Well, as you can see, we take in all sorts of stuff, young lady. Are you looking to pawn something, or just sell it outright?” He asked, leaning back to take in the lovely young woman who looked a bit forlorn. He could tell that if she could shake the glums and smile, she would be radiant.

         “That’s just the problem, you see. I really don’t have anything of any value.” The lovely blonde admitted, tugging nervously at her waist-length locks. Then, without warning, she blurted out the strangest question. “Have you ever bought someone’s hair?”

         The guy raised an eyebrow, followed by a smile. “To be honest, no, I haven’t.” He leaned forward and eyed the girl’s hair as if inspecting a wristwatch he might purchase. “I don’t think I’d even know what it might be worth to me.”

         “I know there are people that buy hair, but that’s in the city, and I have no way to get there.” She was telling the truth. The small town where they were was a good hundred miles from the nearest metro area.

         For years he’d been considering closing up the place, but having grown up in the small town, he had hung in there, despite the lack of business. His father had handed the place to him before taking off to Florida, and it would be poor form to simply sell off everything he had built. “Um, I don’t want to say no, so let me check what the value is, and I’ll decide if I can help. Why don’t you stop back tomorrow, about the same time and I’ll have an answer for you.” He wrote something on a card and handed it to her.

         “Okay then. I’ll be back in tomorrow.” She tucked the card into her rear jeans pocket and wound her way through the maze of goods to the door.

         He watched her leave, wondering what could drive a pretty thing like that to sell something so integral to her beauty. She must be really desperate, he thought, before settling back into his chair and sliding his phone from his pocket.

         Jillian turned the lock to her one-room efficiency, knowing that if she didn’t come up with some rent money, and quickly, even this would be taken from her. She’d tried, she really had. The minimum wage job that she held barely paid for her food and only part of the rent, so she’d been falling behind and her savings were all but gone.

         Tossing her coat on the recliner; the only piece of furniture in her living room, slash, bedroom, she slipped into the bathroom and questioned what she was about to do.

         Her hair had been her security blanket since high school, and it had won her more than a few dates, she was certain. It was her best feature, without which, she would be utterly plain, or so she thought. Tentatively, Jillian folded her up to mimic a chin-length bob, cringing at how childish it made her look. Could she really do this?

         In a way, she hoped the pawnbroker would turn her down and she’d be stuck trying to make ends meet another way. If it hadn’t been for her recent breakup, the idea would never have even crossed her mind. Brad had loved her hair, and for that reason, she felt a bit of hostility towards it.

         She turned in and had a restless night, thinking what the following day might bring. In her dreams, scissors would menace her, snipping mercilessly at her pride and joy. She awoke the following morning grabbing at her head, certain that it was all gone.

         Sighing with relief, she realized that she would be crazy to part with her luscious mane. She would simply walk down to the pawn shop, and tell the guy she was no longer interested.

         Burt realized that the more he thought about severing the hair from that young lady’s head, the more aroused he got. He remembered when his sister came home with a faded pixie, and the crazy reaction his parents had to her brazenness. He was only sixteen, but something about seeing that transformation in his previously feminine sister, stirred him enough to send him off to his room.

         Burt knew his sister was a lesbian, something his parents had yet to learn, but that didn’t stop him from jerking off over it, imagining running his fingers over the bristled back and sides of her exposed scalp.

         Now, that same urge was back, only this time, it was a stranger, and not entirely off limits as his sister had been. Granted, he was twenty-eight, and this woman couldn’t be much older than twenty, but the very idea of taking a pair of scissors to that hair, made his cock as hard as a rock.

         The phone call had confirmed that a three-foot bundle of healthy blonde hair as thick as hers, could fetch as much as fifteen hundred dollars. Of course, he wouldn’t offer her anything close to that. He had to make money, despite how much he would enjoy the act of cutting it.

         Something made him doubt whether the girl would show up. Being short on cash can make people do things that they might regret later, so perhaps she would change her mind.

         So, it was with some surprise as he watched her push through the double glass doors at the front of the shop, and two hours early. This time all he saw was the hair, long and luscious, and begging to be cut. His cock stirred in his pants, and he fought to suppress his arousal. “You came back.” He mused.

         “Yeah. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve changed my mind. Just trying to be polite.” Jillian sighed, running her fingers through her hair as if resolved to protect it from him.

         “I figured you might chicken out. That’s a lot of hair to lose, so I understand.” Burt mewled, his erection falling limp.

         Their business seemingly at an end, Jillian turned, but halfway to the door, she spun to face him. “Just out of curiosity, how much would you have paid me for it.” She flipped the ends of her hair, playfully.

         Thinking that she might change her mind, he adjusted the figure in his head, allowing for a smaller margin. There was more to this deal than money, he realized, finally. “I would have paid you a grand for it.”

         Jillian’s mouth fell open a little, before she realized she was gawking, and closed it just as suddenly. “A thousand dollars?”

         “You heard me right, young lady. But seeing as you have changed your mind, I guess I can invest it elsewhere.” He opened a sportsman catalog and began paging through it, deliberately. When he looked up, he realized that she was still standing there, undoubtedly rethinking her decision. “Of course, the offer still stands, if you…”

         “Change my mind?” Jillian finished, a slight tremor in her tone.

         “Exactly.” Burt wondered if his offer was enough to lure her in. A thousand dollars, for someone in desperate need, was a lot of money.

         “What if I…” Jillian stopped herself, afraid that she might succumb to his offer. It would solve all her problems, at least in the short term. Could she really walk away from such a sum?

         Burt decided that he was going to go for it; satisfy his urges and give this girl exactly what she wanted. “Fifteen hundred, if you let me take it all.” Burt realized that any profit he would make at that point was superfluous. The hard-on that was pressing against the inside of his jeans was ruling the day now.

         “Oh my god. You said one thousand five hundred dollars?” Jillian’s knees started to quake. It was too much to walk away from. She remembered Brad running his fingers through her hair, begging her to never cut it, and then the pain that she felt as walked out the door for the last time. She would be bold. “Take it all then.” She blurted, barely comprehending what that might entail.

         Burt reached into the till and pulled out fifteen one-hundred-dollar bills, stacking them neatly on the counter behind him. “All yours, but you leave with nothing.” Folding it, he slipped the wad into his back pocket and motioned for her to follow.

         “Oh shit. I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Jillian trembled, as she followed the man into the back room of the shop. This room was almost as cluttered as the front. He saw her looking around.

         “This is the pawned stuff. I can’t legally sell it until the term has expired, so it sits back here.” He ran two fingers through her hair. “No pawning this though. Once it’s gone, it’s gone.” He chuckled as he directed her into a chair that he had set up, just in case.

         She looked up at him as he searched through a few boxes. He was older than her, but not bad-looking, aside from the little paunch he carried above his belt. She couldn’t help but notice the bulge that struggled beneath his pants. This was turning him on, Jillian realized.

         For whatever reason, his arousal seemed to affect her as well. Perhaps this didn’t have to be the horrendous experience she imagined it would be. As he stood with an enthusiastic “Aha,” She realized what he was holding. The old set of hair clippers looked well used, the chrome on the blades dulled to a steel grey, and the cloth-covered cord frayed in spots.

         “You’re going to use those?” Jillian asked, furtively, looking away as if to deny the inevitable.

         “When I said nothing, I meant nothing… ah… what’s your name?” He asked out of the blue, and incongruous to the action at hand.

         “Jillian.” She responded, shyly.

         “Well, I’m Burt.” There was no denying the erection that pressed firmly against the crotch of his jeans, standing right before her as he was. “Bald as a coot, but a damn sight richer.”

         His course words seemed to excite her, and she couldn’t understand why such a destructive event could be causing her to get wet. But, wet she was, there was no doubt about it. Jillian watched as he plugged the old clippers into an extension cord. As he flipped the switch, she almost wished they wouldn’t work. But the old Osters wound up with a whir; the tarnished blades gnashing together as if they were hungry after so long a sleep.

         Jillian’s heart was in her throat and beating a mile a minute, but the clippers fell silent, breaking the spell. “Are they broken?” She asked, her breath ragged.

         “Almost forgot to tie this up.” For lack of anything else, Burt grabbed a few cable ties from a work area and set about zip-tying her hair. She could feel the teeth of the plastic strips cinch tight as they effectively packaged her tresses into a manageable bundle. “Maybe I’ll recoup some, with so much extra at the top?” He mused, as he reached for the clippers once again. “Ready?”

         “Oh, God, yes, I suppose.” She sounded tentative, but her cunt was streaming as he placed the buzzing blades at the top of her forehead. “Just do it.”

         Burt knew it was no secret, how hard he was. He was sure she could see his cock throbbing as he stood, his member only a foot from her lovely face. He imagined her taking it out and wrapping her luscious lips around it as he ran the furious machine right down the middle of her head.

         Jillian couldn’t help but gasp as she felt the vibrations against her skull, realizing that there was no going back. Her hair fell lifeless over her shoulders, still bound in place by the harsh plastic ties. She desperately wanted to slip her fingers inside her jeans, but what would Burt think about that? An invitation, perhaps? Was that what she wanted? “Is that what you want?” The whirring of the clippers could have drowned out the fact that she had said it aloud.

         Burt paused for a moment, having heard what Jillian had said. He was amused by the look on her face as she reached up and traced the top of her scalp with her fingers, wincing slightly when they met the resistance of microscopic stubble that remained there. He didn’t miss the small damp patch that had grown larger at the apex of her thighs; her legs spread, perhaps unknowingly. “I think it’s what you want.”

         As if in a trance, Jillian’s hands dropped from her head, reaching out to tug at the zipper. She released the pent-up cock, which stood nearly vertical as she wrapped her delicate fingers around its girth. He moaned as he felt her encase the tip with her voluptuous lips.

         “Jesus!” He sighed, loudly as he carved another pass over the girl’s head, which bobbed up and down on his cock. Each pass of the machine brought him closer and closer to coming. He would come in her mouth, flooding her beautiful face with his seed, he knew it.

         All shame aside, Jillian had worked open her jeans and was masturbating furiously. She was amazed by her depravity as she sucked this stranger’s cock, all the while, losing that which set her apart. Her crowning glory, the beautiful locks which had been lusted after by so many boys, fell away like a husk, revealing the naked truth beneath.

         Burt fought to maintain, as he pressed hard around the girl’s ears, baring them in one pass, the blonde stubble all but invisible. She would be bald, and that thought nearly finished him. He knew she could taste his seed now; the telltale drops that told of the torrents to follow. A few more passes and the deed would be done. Then he could relish the sensation of laying his hands on her newly shorn skull, feeling its shape with his fingers, without the impediment of hair.

         Jillian could feel the man’s labored breathing against her naked scalp, the strangeness of the sensation enough to send a wave of pleasure through her body as her first orgasm flashed over her. The salty precum coerced her to take him deeper, the tip of his cock tickling the back of her throat. It was a strange sensation as the very last of her hair was shorn away. A moment of nagging pain as the full weight of her mane pulled against the strip that still clung tenuously to her head and then nothing at all. It was as though her head was floating in a void; the weight it had borne for so long, utterly vanquished. It was done she realized, still sucking on the insistent cock that was ready to burst down her throat.

         Looking down she saw the curl of hair, bound so neatly on the floor at their feet. That’s when she felt the man’s hands wrapped around her shorn head, moving slowly, as if measuring its size and shape. The first rope of come flooded her mouth and she nearly gagged. She managed to swallow as more followed, and he forced his cock down her throat with his hands. Jillian relaxed and allowed him to use her this way, his cock thrusting in and out of her face at a pace only he decided.

         Jillian’s lips were numb as he pulled her off his waning erection and lifted her face upward to look at her. Again, he ran his hand over her head, assessing his work. “You’re a good girl, Jillian,” Burt admitted, as he reached down to grasp the severed ponytail, depositing it in a box he had set aside. “Not much to look at, now, but you’re a good girl.”

         Jillian reached up with both hands, running them over her scalp; the sandpaper stubble tickling her fingertips. “Am I ugly?” She asked, looking over at Burt who was tucking away his manhood.

         “Not to me you aren’t, but my tastes are a bit… skewed. I don’t imagine you’ll be too popular with the boys right now.” Her lips were swollen; the once voluptuous leaves, plump and salacious. Her ears, once hidden completely by her hair, stood out just a little too far to be cute. Exaggerated by the barren skin that surrounded them, he knew they would be a source of humiliation for her.

         Jillian worked her phone out of her pocket and flipped the camera, shocked by the image that she knew was her own. “Oh, it’s so much worse than I imagined.” She sobbed, reaching down to fasten her jeans; suddenly ashamed of her behavior. “God, I’m such an ugly slut.” She murmured, almost sotto voce.

         “Here.” Burt held out the wad of bills to her, almost as an afterthought. Jillian reached out and took the payment. She pushed the cash into her pocket and stood, a bit unsteady.

         “I don’t know what happened here, but I’m not like this,” Jillian explained, adjusting herself and backing toward the door to the shop. A large mirror confronted her and she stared at her reflection, seemingly more real than the phone had been.

         “I think you’re exactly like this, Jillian.” He moved toward her, expecting her to back away, but she didn’t. “I think you discovered something about yourself today, girl. You come back next week. There’s another hundred in it for you.”

         Jillian nearly ran out of the pawn shop and was halfway down Main Street before realizing that people were staring. She was a freak now, and everyone could see. Locking herself in her apartment, she laid out the cash on the small kitchen table, wondering if it was all worth it.

         Burt had all but given up hope that the bald little tart would find her way back there. She’d been so lovely, so beautiful… but that was before. He imagined all the trials and humiliation Jillian was enduring, as she was forced to expose herself as she truly was. He was ashamed of it, but thinking about her embarrassment, excited him.

         A month to the day later, the small bell on his door roused him from the journal he was perusing. He expected somebody carrying some prize possession they needed to pawn or sell. What he saw instead, was Jillian.

         Her hair had grown in some, resembling a longish crewcut. The light blonde color made the hair almost halo-like, her scalp still quite visible beneath. He looked down at the Thiers Issard razor he had never been able to sell and smiled.

         “If you only knew what I’ve been through.” Jillian skulked, placing her hands outside his on the glass countertop.

         “I’ve been imagining it, but I’d love to hear the details.” Burt mused, as he indicated the back of the shop. Locking the door, he grabbed the intricately carved razor from the shelf and followed, the familiar musky scent lacing the air behind her.