Driving home from work, I ran a hand through my shaggy hair. “Man, I really could use a trim,” I said to myself. Any excuse to get out of traffic was a good one in my mind, so I decided to stop by the next place I saw to get a haircut.
After just a few blocks, I saw a shop within a nearby strip mall with a large sign that read, “The Barberette Emporium.” Needless to say I was intrigued, and I had already promised myself that I would stop off to get trimmed up, so I dutifully pulled into the parking lot.
I walked up to the shop and became increasingly nervous. Having a hair fetish for the majority of one’s life has some crazy effects, not least of which being overwhelming nervousness in the face of an impending haircut. As my stomach twisted itself in knots with both nervousness and excitement, I grabbed the handle of the door and stepped inside.
I was surprised to see a very empty, small space. A single counter stood near the shop entrance. The hardwood floors seemed out of place for a barbershop, not to mention the lack of hair cutting stations. Behind the counter, an attractive woman sat chewing a piece of gum, appearing uninterested in my entrance. As I approached the counter, the woman glanced up at me.
“I.D,” she stated in a bored voice. I.D? I thought this was a barbershop!
“Uh sure, what for?” I asked.
“Store policy. All clients have to be over 18,” she stated monotonously. Confused yet interested, I handed her my driver’s license. Checking it, she found I was well over the threshold. Motioning towards the back of the shop, she said, “Right that way sir.” I looked where she had gestured and found that there was a curtain, presumably leading to another area of the shop. I walked back and pushed the curtain aside, and what I saw left me in shock.
Six salon chairs were stationed behind the curtain, each in front of a counter and mirror, 3 on either side of the room. Black and white tile covered the floor. The most surprising part, however, was the staff. At each of the six chairs was stationed a gorgeous woman wearing only skimpy lingerie. I looked around and saw slip dresses, bondage gear, leather catsuits, and more. Each of the women was wearing high heels, none of them under six inches.
Glancing around at the clientele, I noticed all men, all under 35. The sound of buzzing clippers dominated the atmosphere as every single customer was part way through receiving some form of brutal clipper cut. To my right was a large pile of hair next to one of the chairs. In the chair was a man whose scalp was completely exposed on the back and sides and only the shortest stubble remained on the top of his head. A redhead wearing a full-body fishnet bodysuit and 6 inch black high heels danced around him, running her bare clippers up and down the back of his head and neck, occasionally stroking the shaved portions of his head and smirking to herself.
Suddenly I head a clicking noise approaching me. I looked up to see a blonde woman approaching me, wearing a lacy, red, two piece lingerie set that pushed up her ample breasts nicely. Coupled with this were red fishnet stockings and 8-inch red high heels. As she drew near I was entranced by her curly, voluminous blonde hair and the large hoop earrings dangling just above her shoulders. She flashed a brilliant white smile as she extended her hand towards me, allowing me a good look at her long, acrylic nails that came to a point.
“Hi, my name’s Laura,” she said sweetly.
“Tom,” I responded, shaking her hand. I was too nervous and aroused to make small talk, and I ended up just awkwardly staring at this slender goddess who stood before me.
“Follow me, Tom,” she giggled. Taking my hand she led me to the chair in the back right of the shop, offering me a good look at the other clients being snipped, buzzed, and shaved short. She motioned towards her chair, which already sported a generous crescent of shorn hair around its base. As I sat down, I felt her hands on my shoulders slowly but firmly forcing me down into the chair.
Laura grabbed a neck strip and tied it tight around my neck, followed swiftly by the cape. She raked her long nails over my scalp, front to back through my longer-than-normal hair. “So, here’s what we’re doing today,” she began. What?! Didn’t I get a choice?
“Here at the Barberette Emporium, we get to choose the cut, not you. But we make up for that by giving you a nice view throughout,” she said seductively as she pushed her elbows together, pressing her boobs together even further and allowing me a good, long look at her impressive cleavage in the mirror.
“But-” I began before being abruptly cut off by my dominant stylist.
“Hey, no protesting. My chair, my rules. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll tie you to the chair and shave you bald.” I fell silent. After a brief pause she smiled at me in the mirror and said, “Come to think of it, I may just do that anyways.” She walked around the chair and bent over provocatively before pulling two sets of handcuffs out of a drawer. Before I could even move, she had handcuffed each of my hands to the arms of her chair. Just like that, I was her captive. I had no choice now but to surrender to her.
Laura’s heels clicked on the floor as she walked around me once more, this time picking up her red clippers from the counter, removing the guard and dropping it back on the counter with a gentle clatter. She flashed that perfect, dominant grin at me as she flipped the switch with her long nails.
BZZZZZZZZZ, the clippers sang in tune with their comrades around the shop. Behind me, a man stood up from the chair rubbing his head and feeling the scalp-hugging buzz cut he’d just received from a brunette wearing a sheer slip dress and heels. The next thing I saw was the bare teeth of Laura’s clippers approaching my forehead. “Hold still,” she teased, “Let’s get you shorn down nice and tight.”
Laura pulled the clippers through my hair, leaving a pale strip of scalp behind, covered in only the faintest trace of stubble. Laura killed the clippers and ran her sharp nails gently over the shaved stripe. “This is gonna look so good all over your head babe,” she grinned at me. Turning the clippers back on, she placed them back at my forehead and begand another path to the right of the one she’d just shaved.
After 5 more passes over my crown, Laura had successfully bared the top of my scalp. Bringing the clippers in front of my right ear, she wasted no time mowing a path up the side of my head. I tried to move my hands to feel the stubble on top of my head but was quickly reminded of the restraints holding me in place, ensuring that Laura could do whatever she pleased with me.
My aggressive barberette bent my right ear down and mercilessly shaved a path around it, pressing firmly with her vibrating clippers to ensure that every hair was buzzed down to the skin. Repeating the process on the other side of my head, only the back of my head still had hair longer than 1/16th of an inch on it.
Once again turning the clippers off, Laura set them down on the counter, bending over to give me yet another long look at her cleavage. She ran her nails around my ears, teasing the freshly shaved skin and smirking in the mirror. “What do you think so far?” she asked rhetorically. “Personally, I think it already looks a million times better, and we’re not even done yet!” she said enthusiastically.
Picking her clippers up again, she turned them on as she gripped the top of my stubbly head and pushed it forward so my chin touched my chest. She placed the humming blades at the base of my neck and leaned in next to my ear, whispering, “Now here goes the rest.” She gently bit my earlobe as she slowly drove the clippers up the back of my neck and into my remaining hair, allowing it to rain down all over the back of my bare neck.
Six passes up the back of my head later, the nape of my neck was completely buzzed down to a #0. Without relenting, Laura continued to shave all around my head with her clippers, double- and triple-checking that not a single hair was longer than scalp length. Finally silencing her clippers, Laura set them down on the counter and picked up a fluffy neck brush. She dusted all around my head several times to get every last piece of hair off of my newly exposed scalp.
Just when I thought she was finished and I might be set free, Laura procured a hot towel and wrapped it around my head. “That stubble has to go next, boyfriend,” she stated flirtatiously. She massaged my burred scalp through the towel, relaxing every muscle in my body except for one. All too soon the towel was taken off my scalp, but it was quickly replaced by the feeling of warm lather being spread around my stubble.
“Head down for me, hon’,” Laura said as she tipped my head forward. With a straight razor in hand, she expertly began shaving the back of my neck and head down to the skin. At this point I closed my eyes and completely melted into her chair. Thinking about a stunning blonde barberette tying me to her chair and forcibly shaving my head completely bald while wearing lingerie was the most arousing scenario I could possibly imagine. On top of that, I still got to listen to the humming of clippers around the shop as more male victims were stripped of their hair and shorn down at the discretion of their barberettes.
As Laura finished the nape and back of my neck, I felt her running the backs of her fingers against the smooth skin, checking for any renegade traces of stubble that she may have missed. She transitioned to the right side of my head, and I took in every curve of her body in the mirror as I listened to the rasping of her razor against my scalp. She moved to the left side of my head and continued cleaning every millimeter of hair from my head. Finally, Laura positioned herself behind me and dragged her razor over the top of my scalp, exposing me to the rasping sound inside my skull as she scraped away every last vestige of hair clinging to my scalp.
As quickly as it had started, the shaving was concluded. Laura wiped the excess lather from my head, revealing a shiny, smooth, bald head in the mirror. I didn’t recognize myself. My pale scalp shone under the lights of the barbershop. Behind me, Laura showed her perfect smile again as she ran her nails all over my sensitive scalp. She dragged them from the nape of my neck to my forehead and back again, sending chills up and down my spine and further stiffening the one muscle that had refused to settle down.
“There we go, one clean headshave!” Laura said excitedly. She undid the cape and handcuffs, finally freeing me from her chair and simultaneously revealing the tent I had made in my pants. “Looks like I’m not the only one that wanted you to get shaved down,” Laura said as she acknowledged my now obvious erection. I stood up and observed the massive pile of hair surrounding Laura’s chair, wondering just how many men have found themselves captive in her chair with the bare clippers running over their scalp.
Pressing her lingerie-clad body close to mine, Laura placed her left hand on the back of my bald neck, pulling my face in so it was next to hers. Her right hand stroked against the bulge in my pants as she whispered, “I knew you’d end up like this the moment you walked in the shop, baldy.” With that, I felt her slip something in my pocket. “Shave’s on me today boy toy, you’re too cute for me to take your money.”
Thanking her, I exited the way I had entered. The previously uninterested receptionist now smiled at the sight of my shaved head as I walked out into the parking lot.
As I got in my car, I checked what Laura had slipped in my pocket. It was a business card with only a phone number written on the front. I flipped it over and read the back.
“In case you decide to stick with the sexy bald look, call me and we can clean you up at my place,” the card read. In the corner was drawn a tiny heart. As I turned my key in the ignition, only one thought occupied my mind: my next headshave.
