Autor Note: This is another of my older stories, its been around on the Internet for years … but never here!
I’m not sure where I first got the idea, I’d seen a few head shaves in movies or TV, but nothing out of the ordinary I didn’t think. But when I decided to take Holly down a peg I don’t know why this came to mind. Perhaps it’s just her obsession with her own hair over most anything else. I want to punish her, to make her ugly for once, and this seems a good way to go about it. So I’m standing in her bedroom with scissors, tape, and clippers. The scissors and tough silvery tape were easy to grab from Dads garage, the clippers I brought myself, it took a good few weeks of saving my allowance to get decent ones.
Why do I want to shave this airhead? Well the noun is part of the answer. She’s an embarrassment to the family, Mums an accountant and Dad does precision engineering work for whatever project he finds most interesting. Holly turned 18 three months ago and would be lucky to have a future doing much more than Mums pedicure. Her teachers at parents evenings always lamented that she seemed to waste her talent by day dreaming, putting in minimal effort, and playing with her hair. When I turned up just 2 years behind her the comparison was striking, I was better than her by a mile, at least that’s what our grades showed.
The world doesn’t simply reward effort and intellect though, at least not in school. Our reports were always the same Holly with scrape through passes at best but with report topped off with cheery if slightly passive-aggressive comments such as ‘Holly is a popular girl with significant potential, she shows her brilliance on the rare occasions she applies herself but these are too few and far between. She has great potential if only she’d put her brain in gear.’ My own were quite different, despite strong numbers across all subjects I had to contend with the downbeat assessment that ‘Ivy is a clearly talented young lady, but struggles socially, she is often reluctant to speak up in class. She must develop her presentational skills now to avoid being let down by them later on.’ Yeesh, no wonder our teachers ask us not to read those things ourselves.
But you see there it is, in black and white, from the youngest kids to professional adults. The pretty dumb girl gets the benefit of the doubt, but the one who actually puts in the effort is chastised for not spending all of her time reading about makeup instead of Emily Bronté, watching Hollyoaks instead of Cosmos. It’s not my fault kids have no taste. What am I supposed to talk about? How Brandon totally like, broke up with Kimberly right in front of Jason like omg right? Pfft.
I’ve always been in her shadow, she lucked out on a magnificent blonde where mine swings several shades closer to brown. Holly claims mine would look like hers if I looked after it properly, I told her she might get to be my hairdresser one day of she tried really really reeeaally hard. I swear she developed more than me as well, puberty seemed to hit her like a truck, whereas my own feels like a tug boat with broken engines and one ore. Mum says it’s just perspective, I don’t believe her. Either way, I can’t compete. On the rare occasions I find a boy who’s actually intelligent instead of a football-headed lump, they soon forget me when they see her in the same house. Only two years older they think, maybe I have a chance. Ever met an 18 year old interested in 16 year old boys? Me neither. Of course she shoots them down, they leave, and we never talk again. Not that I’m hauling boys in weekly. Its only happened twice. Dad says boys are stupid at this age, he isn’t wrong.
I like Mum and Dad, but they don’t always help much, even when they think they do. Our damn names for one thing, Holly and Ivy, I bet they thought it was soooo cute when we were babies. Did they consider that they automatically relegated my name to forever be in second place? Did they name me just to complete some joke they conceived with Holly? It’s so dumb. I’m going to change my name to something not plant based as soon as I’m allowed to.
What really pushed me over the edge though was at the schools summer dance last week. We both attended, though separately. Holly insisted her had to arrive with her friends, she couldn’t be seen arriving with /me/. So I got there on time, early really. It was alright, I’d stolen some wine from mum and felt much more confident, looser, happy. She showed up half an hour later with her entourage, like a celebrity gracing us with her presence. It wasn’t long after some lads in her year sprang their prank. One of them put a large box over my head from behind, the rest though what turned out to be balls of cold spaghetti in tomato sauce at me, chanting ‘brain box!’ the whole time. Like I said, they are about as creative as they are intelligent. I was terrified, and covered in the slimy stuff by the time I got the box off.
Every single person in that hall had their eyes on me, I was petrified, rooted to the spot. The whole hall was silent, waiting, they didn’t know what to do. I spotted Holly in the crowd, she could set the tone of this. She had social capitol unlike anyone else in that room. If she turned on those lads then, the whole room would join her and they’d be pariahs within minutes. I was staring so squarely at her, and her back to me mind, that I didn’t see the last spaghetti ball coming. It struck me right in the left cheek. I remember hearing ‘Booom! Heeeadshot!’ from one of the boys. He’d clearly noticed the room was on edge and wanted to tip it his way. He succeeded. I looked back to Holly. She started to laugh. Then so did her entourage. Then everyone else. I ran two miles to get home and didn’t speak to her for three days.
She never bothered to apologise. I suppose maybe she thought I was just generally angry, she may be too dense to realise I am angry at her most of all. She betrayed me, in a moment that would determine the narrative of that night, innocent girl bullied by idiot boys Vs Weirdo Nerd gets Covered in Spaghetti – Epic Prank Video! Yes its on Youtube under three different names. She chose to make me the freak.
I’m going to return the favour.
It was nearly 2am, she had been out tonight and got back not long ago. But I knew she’d pass out as soon as she hit the bed, she always did. Dad was on a project in Sweden, Mum was visiting her sister for the night in London. It would be months before I got another opportunity like this.
I crossed the room to her bed and whipped the covers down. Holly was mostly naked, she must have discarded her dress and bra before landing herself in bed. She only wore her dark red panties, I wondered who had gotten into them tonight, and how long it would be before anyone else might. Who knows, someone might be into bald freaks. I took a dimly lit before picture with my phone.
She’d no doubt wake up, so I wanted to make sure she couldn’t stop me once I did, hence the silver duct tape. I began by bringing her legs together in the dark and wrapping her ankles, then just below her knees as well for good measure. Holly stirred during this, if not for the alcohol she’d probably have rumbled me already.
It wasn’t until I had dealt with her arms that she actually woke. I’d just finished taping her wrists together, crossed over her back, that she came to her senses. “What? What the!” Holly tried to struggle, but all she really achieved was an excellent impression of a beached fish – a strong contender to break into her top five achievements in life thus far.
She managed to wriggle onto her back, this seemed a good time to turn the lights on, so I did. Holly squinted against the light as she tried to turn away, her famous breasts didn’t look as impressive falling back, loose against her body. I took another photo anyway, they’d be useful later. I mounted her, just below the last ribs. “Hello Holly, I am going to shave your head.” I spoke plainly, that tended to help her out, though she still struggled with her comprehension. “You’re fucking what? Get off me twerp!” Holly tried to buck me off as she protested, but she’s not that strong, I’m not that small, and I have leverage on my side.
I simply sighed and turned on my clippers with a dramatic ‘pop!’ and a menacing hum as the blades set into motion. Then I reached forward, held her face in one hand, and pushed the clippers over her forehead with the other. Holly looked hilarious, I can still picture it as if in slow motion. The anger and protest, vanishing into surprise as I simply took her face and squashed out her incessant shrilling. Her wide blue eyes becoming cross eyed above squeezed cheeks, as she tracked the motion of the clippers – entranced. The soft explosion of blonde hair as I dug the machine three inches into the centre of her hairline then flicked it out, sending the fallen hair twisting to her bedside.
I let go of her face as I giggled at the little path of destruction. Then came the impotent rage again. “Ivy! What the fuck is wrong with you!” I smiled down while taking firm grip of the hair over her left ear, twisting and pushing down into her pillow so I could continue my work on the right. As I slowly dug the machine into her hair again, Holly wept into her bedding. “Why are you doing this?” she choked out while I peeled long chunks of blonde away from her ear. “If you can’t figure that out,” I replied, twisting the clippers up from nape to crown “then you really are dumber than you’re about to look.”
I kept her head pinned down as I grabbed my phone again, taking a lovely shot of the thick strips of near-bare skin among the thin straggles of surviving hair. I dismounted and pushed her onto her front, she didn’t struggle, she just continued to try stifle her sobbing. I enjoyed slowly shaving away what was left of her long hair on her nape, she was practically face down crying into her pillow, trying to stay quiet but freshly wailing each time the clippers dug in. I made sure to rub my fingers frequently into the remaining peach fuzz, partly because it felt nice, mostly to remind Holly what she had lost. It was at this point she wet herself, her cries of shame renewed as she realised she’d lost the battle with her bladder. Fragrant with the nights cocktails, she almost immediately saturated her thin underwear and began to soak the bed.
“Aww poor baby wet her bed,” I taunted, “I sure hope no one finds out!” I turned on the phones volume and took another photo framing the mess she’d made, I wanted her to hear the click as I captured her shame. “Silly little piss baby, now lets get the rest of that hair.” I could get used to being in charge for a change.
Leaving her on her front, I got my hand under her chin to lift her head a little. Then I began shaving what hair was left on top of her head, mostly on just the one side. I pushed the clippers from back to front, dumping the severed hair over her face – where it remained between her now drying face and her pillow. Seems she’s all cried out. She didn’t speak, or fight, or cry, as I pressed long paths through the hair remaining over her left ear. I was done.
I backed up to examine me work, what a mess. Holly’s face was buried in her own discarded locks, with more cast about the bed and floor. Her head was hardly neat though, still thin lines of hair held on, some even near the three foot length of their departed neighbours. I decided she could clean those up herself. Not to mention the sticky puddle around her crotch. I took several photos, she flinched at the clicks.
Time for the next step. “I’m going to let you out now Holly. At least in part. I’ll cut free your arms, then leave the scissors, and these clippers, in the bathroom. You can go hop there to free your legs and clean yourself up, if you want.” She turned her head and stared at me with fire in her heart. “Of course,” I continued “I’ll be locking my own door tonight. If you try to take any action against me then I’ll release these photos to every social page the school has. You will tell people you do this to yourself, unless you want everyone to see you face down in your own hair with piss soaked panties.” I cut the tape around her wrists with long bladed scissors, she tried to flip herself over, to pursue me, but her legs limited her mobility to that of a beached mermaid. I easily stepped away. “Now now,” I said, she gave up trying to get at me, “consider what’s left of your reputation.” I walked to her door and left.
Wow what a rush! I closed and locked my door behind me. I’d never felt so powerful, was this how she lived her whole life? My adrenaline was soaring. I ran my fingers up into my own hair and giggled to myself over what I’d done. I can’t believe she wet herself as well, that was just too good. I quickly realised there was no way I could sleep, so instead stripped out of my clothes, threw myself to the bed, and masturbated. I came fast and hard, almost so soon it was less satisfying, but as I lay in the afterglow thinking of Holly going to school tomorrow I felt a bliss unmatched in all my prior years.
Holly lay in her bed until her legs cramped and her crotch itched. She needed to get up. Holly flopped like a fish until she could get her feet off the edge of her double bed. Then nearly managed to stand up, but only succeeded in falling to the floor in a flurry of cut hair. She landed hard and lay on the floor a while longer, looking at the pile of her discarded hair she felt tears escape her eyes again.
Holly crawled, worm like, to the bathroom. Pulling forward with her arms and wriggling her legs along behind her. Ivy had left the scissors on the floor, Holly scrambled desperately for them, hacking apart the tape on binding her legs as soon as they were in hand. She pulled off her soaked panties and threw them in the bath with a grimace. The stood up and slowly turned to look at her new look in the mirror for the first time.
Holly shrieked when she saw herself, then gasped as she examined the damage more closely. Clearly her locks were beyond help, the remaining straggles only made her look insane. Ivy had left the clippers on a shelf next to the mirror, the implication was clear, she had to finish it herself. Her hand shook as she reached for the machine that had caused her so much pain already, but she took it firmly in hand all the same. Holly looked sternly at her reflection, forcing herself to the act. She felt for the longer sections of her hair and guided the clippers through them, having to watch it happen made the whole thing feel worse. Tears fell in thick drops down her cheeks as she examined her head for where she had to cut away the last of her locks.
It looked horrible. She thanked God that her head wasn’t some weird shape, but she hated it all the same. Still, she had to say it was her own idea if she wanted to avoid her friends seeing a close up of her weeing in her most seductive panties. She decided she’d need to quickly learn the names of some bald models, claim it was a fashion statement. Maybe even convince some of her more gullible friends to shave their heads as well, at least then she wouldn’t be the only one. Yeah, good plan. She took a shower.
*Click* and is that giggling? Holly peaked around the shower curtain just in time to see Ivy dashing out of the room. She stumbled out of the shower to give chase, but was met only with a locked door. “You bitch!” she screamed, slapping her palm on the wood. “See you in the morning baldie!” came the reply.
Holly sulked back into the bathroom, dried off, and returned to her room. Her bed was still wet with her own wee. She slept on the floor with her hair.