Pillow Talk

Tuesday

Tuesday morning felt strangely surreal for Melody, mostly thanks to the incredibly odd dream she’d had the night before. It wasn’t that anything that happened in it was super strange, but in it she’d somehow wound up with short hair — like, really short hair. Boyishly short. And for someone who had never worn her hair shorter than mid-back, that was about the oddest thing to think of.

Even now, as she was braiding her long, thick raven locks, she couldn’t imagine ever cutting them as short as she’d worn it in her dream. Heck, she’d never even had bangs, much less a boycut. In fact, the closest thing to bangs she ever had were the very conservatively placed, face-framing layers, a few of which she carefully tugged free from her braid on either side of her crystal blue eyes to curl cutely past her chin. 

Once her shiny, silky crowning glory was all set, she smoothed out her pencil skirt, straightened her blouse and stepped away from the mirror, sparing just a moment to appreciate the generous braid that now fell down her slender back to brush against the top of her ass as she headed out to work. But knowing how much her live-in boyfriend liked when she wore her hair back, she made sure to pop into Jay’s office for an indulgent kiss goodbye.

Thursday

Melody ran her fingers back through her abundantly thick mane again and again, struggling as usual to gather its impressive mass into a neat, professional ponytail. Low ponytails were much easier to style, but today she wanted it to be high and swingy. She wanted to feel it bounce and sway as she walked, to feel the gentle tug of its weight through the day.

Mostly, she wanted to be reassured that it was still there, in all of its glorious length. She’d had another dream the night before, but this time she’d watched the cut happen, the brutal, unwanted cut at the hands of an overeager stylist who had ignored her request for a trim. She was horrified as it happened, and could almost feel her lush ponytail being shorn away as she slept. More disturbing is how it somehow felt… arousing. Even now, thinking about it, she felt tingles of pleasure as the memories of waking up with her naked hips pressed against Jay sent an unexpected thrill of repulsive desire through her. 

When she finally had her ponytail in place, twisted under and through once to give it some extra list and volume, she used a few bobby pins to keep the shorter layers out of her face. When she swung her heavy ponytail in front of her left shoulder to double-check it, she couldn’t help but notice that she was overdue for a trim. But, understandably enough, she was not quite ready to schedule an appointment.

Sunday

Sunday mornings were reserved for indulgent baths and long, nearly obsessive haircare routines. But after her bath, Melody found herself sitting in a robe, her hair wrapped in a large towel, looking at the sharp angle of her jaw, her perfectly straight nose, and her elegantly arching eyebrows without any hair falling around them. She had beautiful cheekbones and other features, that much she knew. So why hadn’t she ever worn her hair short?

Because she loved it long, that was why. Her hair was her hobby, her passion. She loved the long looks, the longing looks, and the envious glances it got in public. She loved the various styles she could wear it in, and loved how much of a security blanket it could be when she wanted to hide away from the world. 

And yet, there was no denying that the dreams — the recurring, annoyingly persistent dreams of having her beautiful mane stolen away from her were becoming more and more sexual in nature. She was never bound in the dreams, but she was always paralyzed. She always begged, but was never listened to… And still, even now, she felt the tips of her fingernails tracing down along her thigh to nestle under her robe and gently probe herself, teasing and caressing as the mental images of her dreamself with a ravaged mane remained in her mind.

She was snapped back to reality when Jay cleared his throat behind her.

She startled, squealing loudly as she turned around at her makeup table to see him standing there. He’d gone for his usual morning run, and so was in short shorts and had a head full of sweaty, dark blonde hair. His tank top was balled up in his hands, already stripped off and leaving his broad chest completely bare.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked with a teasing grin.

Melody stood up, pulling the towel from her head to let her Godiva-like hair fall free. Her robe dropped next, littering the floor as she approached him.

“Just you,” she lied.

Wednesday

Again, as she fixed her hair into a French braid and then fashioned a thick bun at her nape, she was thinking of those dreams, of the unexpected but not unwelcome pleasure thinking about them brought her, and how she’d awoken pressed against Jay, her hands doing unmentionable things to him as he moaned softly in his sleep. 

It seemed wrong to stop at that point, since he seemed to be enjoying it. With her long, beautiful hair still in its protective bonnet, she let him wake up to find himself in her mouth, her tongue teasing and caressing him until he came. 

Two Sundays Later

Melody woke up astride Jay, moaning herself awake as he throbbed inside of her. It was the fourth, or maybe the fifth, time she’d woken up like this, always after another dream of an unwilling shearing, but the first time her bonnet had been cast aside to let her hair tumble down all around her as she grinned her hips down against his. He was fully awake, holding her waist and guiding her eager movements as he watched her.

Smiling down at him, she ran her nails along her chest and arched her back, leaning her weight down hard against his thrusts as she reminisced about her dreams, though inexplicably erotic dreams of lost power and control that she now welcomed as often as possible, even going so far as to focus on them when she made love to Jay before bed.

She cried out as her orgasm washed over her, her nails biting into his chest as he groaned in pleasurable pain. And then, breathing deeply, she calmed, looking down at him again through long, wild waves of the shiniest, darkest black. Her soft locks danced with every pant she released, and she cooed softly as Jay reached up to take hold of a long lock to pull it forward to twirl around his fingers.

“I’m loving how we’re waking up these days, but what’s come over you?”

Melody felt even more heat rise in her cheeks.

“Anything you want to tell me?” He asked.

She laughed, and shook her head. “Not especially,” she insisted. She leaned down to kiss him, lingering against his lips as she lifted her leg to unstraddle his waist and let him slide free of her. 

“Are you sure?”

She used her hair to hide herself, pretending to tuck it behind her ear shyly but knowing it was too voluminous to stay there. Instead, it swung forward as the blush rose in her cheeks as she rose from the bed. “I’m sure.” 

At the bathroom door, she turned back. “It’s bath time. Care to join me?”

The Next Sunday

Her indulgent morning routine finished, Melody hummed softly to herself as she fixed her favorite earrings in the lowest set of piercings in her ears. With her abundant mane piled high in a casual but not-quite-sloppy bun, her long neck and repeatedly pierced ears were fully on display at the moment, though she was leaning toward wearing her lush waves loose and free for the day. 

She loved the contrasting frame they formed around her figure when she dressed as she was, with a plain white crop top and cute boy shorts. She loved the way the shorts made her ass look, and having her long hair free and brushing against it shared the admiring attention, in a way, and she was never unhappy with that.

When Jay appeared in the doorway, leaning against its frame, she raised an eyebrow. He was the one who had told her to keep her day free, and yet he was standing there, shirtless and in sweatpants and completely unready to go out.

“Are you planning on getting dressed at all today?”

He smiled, a rather mysterious and mischievous expression. “Maybe.”

She tilted her head. “Is something on your mind, hon?”

His eyes narrowed, something they always did when he was making a decision. “Yes, I think there is.” He took a few steps forward and leaned in to kiss her. Then he cupped her chin, lifting it before gently turning her face from side to side. “Have you ever considered wearing bangs?”

She blinked. “N…No…”

He made a thoughtful sound. “I think they’d really bring out your eyes, don’t you think?”

She furrowed her brow, her answer getting stuck in her throat as he reached back and undid her hair, letting it fall free down her back. He ran his fingers back through it all, taking time to gently stroke and caress her scalp as he did, eliciting an unexpected purr as she wondered what was going on.

He maintained eye contact with her, one eyebrow lifted as he opened a drawer of the dresser and mirror they stood in front of and pulled out a leather case. “Let’s give it a shot, shall we?” He unzipped the case and pulled out a pair of long, silver shears.

Melody’s heart began to race. Where had he gotten those? Why had he gotten those? He placed the scissors between his lips and pulled a comb from the case. Without even getting an answer to his question, he started combing a thin veil of her hair forward, gathering all of the face-framing and shoulder-length or breast-caressing layers forward. Each had been carefully, perfectly placed by her stylist to get the maximum impact with a minimum of cutting, and yet here Jay was, her darling, gorgeous boyfriend, gathering them all between his fingers in front of her eyes. 

He lifted the scissors to the tip of her nose, capturing the silky locks between the blades, and closed them with a sharp, loud crunch.

Melody squeaked as the new cheek-length bangs hung in front of her eyes. The shorn lengths were carefully dropped to the dresser top, and then Jay tenderly brushed the newly shortened bangs back into place, framing her eyes.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” He turned her to face the mirror, letting her see the new, subtle curtain bangs that replaced the longer, sensual layers. “Don’t they look amazing?”

Her mind spinning, Melody could only bring herself to nod. If nothing else, they were barely noticeable and her normal stylist would probably have no trouble blending them in to the bulk of her length. She’d just said she was due for a trim anyway, right?

“And while we have these out anyway…” Jay ran his fingers through her long, soft waves again and again as Melody’s heart chilled. She watched his reflection silently, frozen with indecision as to what she should do. But then he looked at her in the mirror and smiled, the imagery quickly accompanied by a long, loud crunch that was coupled with a gentle tug of her precious locks.

Reaching around her, Jay set on the dresser a thick, heavy, lock of her lush hair that must have been at least six inches in length. She squeaked again, her brows lifting as he took another cut at her beloved mane, and then another. Lock and after lock of her hair was set down, each of them perfectly measured in length and each of them gut-wrenching in volume.

Melody tried to say something, but couldn’t find her voice. It was one thing to deal with a mixture of terror and arousal in a dream, but here in reality, feeling that unwelcome but not unpleasant need building between her thighs even while she wanted to scream and run…

Jay’s reflection leaned back, and he made a thoughtful expression. “You can barely even see any difference,” he said.

Again, there was a gentle tug on her hair, followed by another bone-chilling crunch. 

Melody gasped as a ten-inch long lock of her hair was set down on the dresser. “Oh god,” she whimpered, her weight shifting on her feet as her thighs rubbed together by their own accord. Her heartbeats and breathing came quicker, even as she chewed nervously at her bottom lip. “Please don’t,” she pled.

“Shhhh.” Another crunch, and another long lock set aside. “We’re almost done, my love,” he said. And then another crunch, and another. 

Melody couldn’t tear her eyes away from the growing collection of hair — her hair — growing on the dresser in front of her. It was more hair than she’d ever had cut at once before, maybe more than in the past five years combined. 

Again, the scissors were placed between his perfect, delicious lips. With slow, determined movements, he brushed her beautiful, thick, shiny hair forward, letting it fall in front of her shoulders so it barely — just barely — fell over her breasts. 

“Oh god,” she whimpered, trembling as the heat of his palms pressed against her slender shoulders. In the mirror, he was smiling at her, devilishly handsome and teasing as he admired his short-haired girlfriend. 

Despite trying to resist the urge, she backed her bottom up, brushing it against him. Her jaw dropped when she felt his arousal. He closed his eyes, muffling a moan with his closed lips, flashing another devious grin when he looked at her again.

For all the horror Melody felt, her completely untrained lover had done a commendable job of chopping her Rapunzel-like tresses, letting them fall to tease the same curves they hid in perfect waves, with sensual, lightly layered bangs that really did bring out her eyes a bit more than the longer layers had.

Again and again, Jay ran his fingers through her shortened locks as he admired her reflection, each time pretending he wasn’t caressing and teasing her breasts with the backs of his fingers. She hated the fact that she was so excited by what he’d done, that her hand was, on its own, looking to do some caressing of its own through his sweatpants, but then his fingers found and slowly circled her stiffened nipples, eliciting a surprised, defeated moan as she suddenly forgot everything else.

“I thought so,” he whispered into her ear. 

He picked up the scissors and turned her to face him. She looked back at him, her brow furrowed in fear, and he just smiled. “You might want to lower those, babe,” he warned as he gathered her bangs forward again. This time, some locks from the bulk of her mane came forward as well, and whether it was by mistake or by plan, Jay showed them no mercy with his blades when he lifted the scissors to the bridge of her nose and snipped away. Slowly he moved the scissors across the seized locks, taking away the variance in length, shearing the long, subtle layers that’d define curtain bangs and transforming the soft tresses into, for the first time in her life, blunt cut bangs.

Before Melody realized he was done, Jay had leaned down, teasing her left nipple with his teeth through her hair and her top. He rose to full height again, a full ten inches taller than her, and shook his head. “That just won’t do.”

With well-practiced speed, he slid his hands up her sides and under the crop top, quickly whisking it over her head. She was taken by surprise by how easily her hair came free from the top — usually it was an ordeal once the top was over her head. But not this time. 

Still bewildered, Melody’s head spun as Jay combed her hair with his fingers again, his strokes so short compared to what had been required before. Then his lips were against hers, kissing and teasing and caressing as his tongue worked its way into her welcoming mouth. Her bra loosened as he held her close, and then it fell away just as Jay pulled back. 

With a smile and hands on her shoulders, he turned her toward the mirror again. She looked at herself, long waves framing her face and the short, sharply cut bangs that curled into place and reached just below elegant eyebrows, hiding them completely but making her eyes almost glow with a sense of mystery.

It was still long, she reminded herself. It was still long for anyone else, and it’d be back to being her security blanket in just a couple of years. Some people might not even notice it’d been cut at all, in fact.

But those thoughts started to shatter and fade when Jaw leaned in to nuzzle her neck from behind, kissing her shoulder as his hands cupped and teased her breasts, his fingers finding and pinching her tender, arousal-betraying nipples.

His lips touched her ear through the blanket of hair. “It still hides too much, I think,” he whispered. She shook her head weakly in response, but knew the flush of her cheeks and the soft moan in her throat worked against her.

Jay chuckled at that, and took a step back. He ran his fingers down through her mane from crown to nape. She could feel one of his fingers at the base of her neck, right where it met her shoulders, and heard an all-too-familiar crunch.

Thoughts of potential ponytails and braids ran through her head as she listened to each horrible snip and crunch that followed, calculations of whether she’d have enough length for certain styles tried to distract her from the growing wealth of shorn locks on the dresser before her. Again and again Jay added to it, again and again he reached for her beautiful waves and cut them shorter.

Soon, her reflection was left with a blunt, shoulder length bob on one side, and long, wavy layers that still teased her swollen nipple on the other. But Jay’s scissors soon corrected that as she stood rigidly in place. Her heart pounded and insisted she run, but her clit throbbed and demanded she stay. Unwittingly, her hand began to brush the front of her shorts, its gentle pressure becoming more obvious when Jay turned her to face him, lifted his scissors, and bared her perfect eyebrows as he trimmed her new, thick, blunt bangs even further.

He set the scissors down, cupping her cheeks so he could kiss her again. She moaned against his lips, almost collapsing against him as she rubbed herself.

“We can make that easier for you, you know,” he whispered. And then he was down on his knees, tugging her cute boy shorts down, followed quickly by her lacy panties. His lips then found her sex, nestling into the dark, wet curls as she buried one hand in his hair and braced the other on the dresser, crying out as she leaned back and felt the crisp ends of her hair brush against her shoulders in a completely unfamiliar sensation.

“Oh gods,” she moaned. “Please fuck me…”

He stood up, seemingly eager to do so as he took her in his arms and burrowed into her hair to nip and nibble at her ear, then kiss his way down her neck. She tugged the waist of his sweatpants downward, eager to feel him in her when he suddenly stopped, pressing his lips to her ear again. “I just had a thought — this is way too gorgeous of a neck to keep hidden.”

Melody’s knees weakened, and she felt tears building in her eyes. “No, no please no…”

He used a comb this time, taking long, slow strokes — at least as long as they could be in her shoulder-length hair. “Don’t worry, baby. You’re only looking more and more beautiful.” He placed a kiss on her cheek, and teased the other with the brutally cold steel of his scissors. 

“Why? Why are you doing this?” she sobbed, though she wasn’t sure whether it was because of the loss of her treasured locks or the constant edging he’d cruelly, masterfully, and beautifully subjected her to.

He leaned in close, hugging her before nuzzling her ear again. “Because you talk in your sleep, Melody.”

Her heart dropped, and the sobbing stopped as she looked at him with a slacked jaw. He chuckled and winked before turning her to the mirror. Looking down at the pile of shorn locks in front of her, she realized suddenly why he’d been so certain in what he was doing and why he refused to stop — she’d been asking for this for weeks. He’d had a front row seat to these terrible teasing and pleasing dreams, practically able to take notes on what would get her to ravish him even when she wasn’t awake. 

Stunned by the realization, she remained still when he positioned her to look forward, staying perfectly straight as his shining scissors slid through her once enviable tresses and sheared them away level with her chin. This time, he let the shorn locks fall free, teasing her shoulders and arms and breasts and back and ass as they fell to the floor. Melody watched as any possibility of a sexy, swingy ponytail was stolen away with every careful crunch. Watched as the one asset every knew and recognized her by was taken from her, replaced by an unobstructed view of her naked, vulnerable neck and nape. 

When the last long lock fell away, it was almost on her own that she turned to Jay and closed her eyes, presenting herself to him so his scissors could again dance across her forehead, shortening her bangs by another inch or more. When he was done, he tucked the remaining locks behind her ears.

Then he made another thoughtful sound.

Her heart dropped, again, but her hand found its way back between her thighs. Every deafening crunch that followed Jay’s rhythmic gathering of her silky hair between his fingers was coupled by her panting breath and soft moans. She didn’t have to look at the mirror as he worked to know her cute little ears had been laid bare, the right with its three piercings and the left with its six. The amount of silver she wore in them had always been counterbalanced by the innate elegance of her long, beautiful hair, but now… now what would people think? Would her coworkers notice those piercings for the first time now that all of her hair was gone?

It was a ragged, wild pixie cut that Melody saw when Jay turned her back toward the mirror, but only briefly since he immediately tilted her head downward so he could attack her nape with his shears, barring it just as completely has he had bared every other part of her. 

Spiky and punky locks pointed every which way at her crown, cowlicks no longer weighed down by their excessive length. The uniform, blunt bangs were shattered into ragged choppiness, leaving nothing sensual or mysterious about them.

It was when she heard an unfamiliar clatter that her heart truly froze. Jay had reached into the leather bag again, spilling several plastic combs out of it, followed by a set of clippers that chilled her soul.

“Oh god… oh god… what are you…” she couldn’t finish, couldn’t find the energy to try to fight it as Jay reached around her, capturing her within his arms as he selected the 1/2 inch long comb and placed it on the clippers. She closed her eyes and tried to shrink away into him, but as the clippers roared to life, his free hand cupped her jaw and gently lifted.

“Watch,” he commanded.

She opened her eyes, looking at the young woman with bright blue eyes and the punky black pixie cut as her lover lifted the clippers to her forehead and, both mercilessly and benevolently,  pushed them back into her thick, silky hair. The machine’s motor churned loudly, the unhindered “braaaaap” as it plowed through her hair sent waves of fright and delight up and down Melody’s spine. 

She gasped as the first massive clump of her hair was dropped in front of her. There was no way she would have thought she still had that much hair on her head at this point, but she did, and that overwhelming clump was matched by another and another as Jay continued to harvest that last of any length worth noticing on her head. 

Years of growing, years of care and compliments, and it was all being shorn down to almost nothing in a matter of minutes. With a careful nudge, Jay tilted her head to the left and rendered her right side down to nothing but black velvety fuzz, with hints of her pale scalp peeking through in a ways she simply never would have thought possible. Then the left side, and then her nape, where every upward pass of the ruthless, humming machine weakened her knees and had drips of desire running down the insides of her thighs. 

Jay held her in place when the clippers fell silent, though they did so only long enough for him to place the next shorter comb on their head. He retraced the paths he’d cut around her ears and at her temples, sliding the whirring machine upward toward her crown before pulling it away. Her shoulders were coated in the minute clipping of her cherished locks, clippings which were added to even more when he began attacking her nape with the next even shorter clipper head. Soon, it was the bare steel blades themselves teasing and nipping and nibbling at her nape, and it was only then that Melody felt the deliciously welcome pressure of Jay claiming her from behind, setting the clippers down for good and bracing his hands on the dresser as he drove into her from behind.

It was a loud release in the end, embarrassingly so as Melody was sure the neighboring apartments became intimately familiar with how desperately and eagerly she wanted to cum. 

“That’s it,” Jay encouraged her, his hands on her hips slamming her back against his thrusts. “That’s it, baby. Let everybody know.”

That Afternoon

After the cleanup, after a long, languid bath together, and after a long, long discussion about openness and honesty and newly discovered kinks, Melody looked at her reflection in the bedroom mirror again. Her right hand moved slowly as it circled the back of her head, her long, gorgeous, shiny locks replaced by the barest of black velvet coverings. Every little motion still sent chills through her, a confusing mixture of regret and arousal that threatened to overwhelm her yet again if she kept at it. Despite that risk, she slid her hand up over her crown, playing — or at least pretending to be able to do so — with the slightly longer fuzz that remained. 

“I still can’t believe it’s all gone. What’s everyone at work going to say? What’s my sister going to think?”

Jay, now dressed, approached from behind and slid his arms around her waist. Soft kisses against her naked neck sent new shivers up and down her body, and Melody began to melt back against him again.

“It’s going to take forever to grow back, you know,” she said, lifting her hand to caress his hair as he continued his gentle attack below her ear.

“Who said I’m going to let you grow it back?” he whispered. 

Melody bit her bottom lip, trying to stifle a sound that was a mixture of horror, defiance, and delight. “It’s my choice, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” he replied. “And I’ll be sure to listen for that choice whenever you talk in your sleep.”

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Just a little mix of willing and unwilling for fun. How’d I do? 

Any comments or critiques are welcome — it always helps inspire the next one.

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