The Price of Disrespect: Part 1

 

Yes, you can skip ahead to the haircutting. I recommend you don’t. This is going to be a series. A series with some extreme shaved and non-shaved hairstyles that you’ll enjoy better if you follow the character development.

Cheers,
Adam

 

Carmen finished polishing the last of the vases in the sitting room. She stretched her back and groaned. “Dios! That fresa is loca to have so many of these things here.”

Stephanie chose that moment to enter and heard her. Her Spanish was rudimentary, but she certainly understood what she was being called. And she was spoiling for a fight.

“Fresa?! You little shit. You think you’re better than me, don’t you? Why are you still gunking out my toilets at…how old are you…50?”

Carmen went very still as she registered the comment. She slowly turned around to look at the mistress of the house.

Stephanie knew Carmen wasn’t much older than 40. She could see the anger simmering in her eyes, which pleased her and spurred her on. “You didn’t think I was so spoiled when you came around looking for a job, did you?” She snorted. “Practically begged to be our housekeeper. You believe her, Rick?”

Rick, her husband, walked in behind her. He took one look and strode off with the expression of someone who’d seen this play out too often and wanted no part of it.

Stephanie turned back to Carmen, her hair rippling behind her. She had beautiful, incredibly thick brown hair that cascaded to below her shoulders. She carelessly flipped a hand through it and continued her tirade. “Instead of running your mouth, you should keep your head down and be grateful for the livelihood we provide you.”

Carmen was beyond rage at this point, but stood silent for two reasons: one, she really did need this job and two, she didn’t think words alone could do justice to the emotions she was feeling at the moment.

Stephanie, who was hoping her goading would have elicited an outburst by now, was disappointed she couldn’t fire her. Maybe she’s decided to finally swallow her pride. Ah well, I’ll get her for something else.

She snorted again. “Make sure you vacuum the carpet before you leave.”

“But I just did the carpet,” Carmen said in a grating voice.

“Well do it again! Unless that dust allergy of yours is acting up. In that case, do the curtains too.” She sniggered and walked off behind her husband.

Carmen stood there shaking with suppressed fury. Fucking trust fund puta never had to work a day in her life dumping on me — oh I’m going to get her. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to fuck up her life.

Just to have something to do, she grabbed the vacuum and turned it on while she thought. She didn’t get very far as distant yelling intruded on her musings. They’re always arguing those two, she thought. Every fucking evening. Spoiled little —

“— because it’ll mean our necks if we don’t!”

Rick’s angry voice, unusually loud, reached her all the way from the floor above.

Carmen’s eyes widened, but she didn’t waste a second. She left the vacuum on so they wouldn’t be suspicious and quietly sneaked up to the first floor. On the landing, she could see that Stephanie had left the bedroom door slightly ajar, and she could now hear everything the two of them were saying. Carmen grinned to herself. That cabrona de mierda was going to regret this mistake.

“Don’t you get it, we’ll be exposed! Insider trading is 20 years in federal prison. 20 fucking years! All because you thought it’d be a good idea to take a couple of tips from your brother! We have to get rid of all that money.”

Stephanie whined, “But Rick! So many people cashed in on the Arcelus IPO. What about that new place in the Keys? The new gallery wing we’re about to commission? The—”

“What good is a gallery wing when you’re someone’s fucktoy in a federal penitentiary?!” Rick screamed. “Your brother’s a darned loudmouth — someone’s bound to find out. We’re only lucky the money went to an offshore account. I’m cleaning it out tonight, donating all of the $20 million to a few dozen charities. That should buy us some cover.”

Stephanie whined something in response, but Carmen didn’t stick around to listen. She’d heard all she needed to.

Contrary to what Stephanie thought, she wasn’t some random immigrant who just swam across the Rio Grande. She used to run a successful hair salon in Houston which fell through before she had to take on odd jobs to make ends meet. She knew enough about business to know that the two of them were in deep shit if someone ever found out what they had done — charity or no charity.

Carmen grinned for the second time that night. She was going to enjoy what came next.

 

—————Next afternoon————–

 

“So you see,” Carmen said, brandishing a sheaf of papers, ”I’ve got everything I need here to get the SEC to investigate the two of you and your brother for insider trading. Your lives just got incredibly fucked.”

Both Rick and Stephanie were horrified at what they were hearing.

Stephanie recovered first, “But you have no real proof —”

Carmen cackled at her. “No proof?! Mi pinche fresa, how many investors do you think made exactly $20 million on the IPO? And once the feds indict your brother, how long before that little shitstain flips on you to save his ass?”

Neither of them replied, but Carmen saw the answer written clear as day on Stephanie’s face. With a triumphant smile she continued, “So, unless the two of you want to be — what did you call it — fucktoys in federal prison for the next 20 years, things are going to change around here.”

She confidently walked towards Stephanie, her eyes boring into hers. “Things are going to change with you.”

“And I know just where to start,” she said, eyeing Stephanie’s immaculately styled hair. She even ran her hand through it, a liberty unimaginable just 24 hours ago. “You have lovely hair. Proud hair makes for proud putas. You need to be more respectful,” she said, scrunching the hair into her fist and making her cry out.

“Rosa!” Carmen yelled over her shoulder. Unbeknownst to Stephanie and Rick, Carmen had let someone else into their home. Rosa emerged from the hallway with a huge black suitcase in her hand. Rosa was an imposing woman. Taller than Rick, muscled, with her hair pulled back into a low bun like Carmen.

“Do we have everything we need in there?” Carmen asked, indicating the suitcase. Rosa grinned in response. “Si hermana, everything’s here.”

Without preamble, Carmen pulled Stephanie’s hair and dragged her upstairs over her yowling protests. She was taller and stronger than Stephanie and managed it quite easily. On the first floor, she chose the room opposite the main bedroom — Stephanie’s dressing room. There was a huge mirror adorned with dressing lights, which made it perfect for what she had in mind.

She dumped Stephanie in the chair and nodded towards Rosa, who opened the suitcase. It turned out to be a massive barber box, with lots of barbering tools and products neatly arranged inside.

“Rosa was my assistant at the salon. Today, she has her own place, but she always helps me out when I want a special haircut.” Carmen grinned. “And a special haircut is exactly what I have in mind for you today.”

Stephanie’s eyes were wide in horror. “Rick!” she pleaded. Rick, who was at the door, simply looked at her sadly and turned away.

Rosa chose that moment to wrap a large cape around Stephanie’s neck. “Nothing’s gonna save you now, putita.”

Stephanie couldn’t believe what was happening to her. A day ago, she thought she’d multiplied her wealth and today she was taken prisoner by her own housekeeper who was about to give her some batshit crazy haircut.

Carmen walked up behind Stephanie and stroked her locks. It was the thickest, glossiest hair she had ever seen. Rich brown in color, straight with the tiniest hint of curl and wonderfully bouncy. Stephanie parted her hair on the left, where it fell in a lovely arc across her forehead before flowing across her shoulders.

Carmen placed her palms on her hair on either side of the part. “Such beautiful hair,” she said, gently stroking it. Suddenly, she dug her nails in. “And yet, you let it hang all over your face like some common slut.” Stephanie was startled at the venom in Carmen’s voice.

“I’ve always wanted to do something about your fancy hair. It’s too modern, too uncontrolled. It’s even parted on the wrong side.”

Carmen gathered the hair at the front and pulled it back over her head. She considered the look for a while and seemed to come to a decision. “This hair needs to be tamed and made to look responsible. We’re going to do that today.”

Carmen was now putting on a barber’s apron. “I’m going to show you your place. You’re going to get a traditional hairstyle that I think will be perfect for you. Keep you in your place under me.”

She smoothed down her apron and extracted a pair of shiny scissors from the pocket. She clicked them twice in the air. Stephanie’s eyes went wide.

Then in a sudden movement, she grabbed Stephanie’s hair on the right and snipped it off at her ear. Without pause, she walked around her captive and roughly chopped off all her hair at the same level.

Stephanie was so shocked she couldn’t even scream. Years of hair growth, gone in the blink of an eye. She looked like some deranged clown, with her thick hair sticking out in an ear-length bob.

Rosa sniggered behind her. “Puta looks like she gonna pass out.”

“Don’t worry fresa. We’ll straighten that out,” said Carmen. She added with a chuckle, “But I don’t think you’re gonna like what you end up with, either.”

She ran a hand through Stephanie’s hair, scraping it back, marveling at its body. “First things first.”

Without looking at Rosa, she extended a hand towards her. Rosa, who seemed to have been expecting this, passed her a large spray bottle.

Carmen raised it, her finger poised on the trigger. “We gotta change your part. No more left side parting for you. Too normal. All you millennial sluts have it there. We’ll change it to the right. I’ve only ever seen guys part it on the right.”

With that, she began liberally spraying Stephanie’s hair in a straight arc over right eyebrow. She set the bottle on the counter and extracted a comb from her apron. With a few rapid strokes she combed her hair forward on the right side “Now let’s see, do we want a low part or a high one?”

She eventually split the difference and settled on a part around two-thirds of the way towards the end of her right eyebrow, “This looks good right here.”

She inserted her comb in the selected groove and split her hair in a clean line. She quickly began combing the hair in parallel strokes away from the part.

Stephanie looked forlorn. She had parted her hair on the left for as long as she could remember and loved it there. Carmen had now created a ruler-straight part all along the right side of her head.

“Why?” Stephanie asked in a sad voice.

Carmen looked at her in the mirror for a moment before responding, “Because I can. Because you’ve been a spoiled bitch all your life. Because you disrespected me. And because you need a lesson.” She moved her face closer to Stephanie’s. “And you’d better get used to this, puta, because this is how it’s going to be from now on. I will control your hair and everything about you. If you don’t like it, you can spend the best years of your life in prison. They’ll probably shave your head down there,” she ended with a grim smile.

Her point made, Carmen turned back to the task at hand. Once the hair was properly combed away on either side of the part, Carmen extended her hand out to Rosa again. This time she handed her a pair of clippers.

Stephanie’s eyes widened, but she knew better than to say anything again. “Better,” said Carmen with a smile.

There was a click and the clippers hummed into action. Stephanie winced.

Carmen raised the clippers and used a comb to shave off measured lengths of her hair. She wasn’t looking to give her a fade, not today anyway. She wanted to even out the hair on her sides and back. Once she had it all down to three inches on the sides, she stopped.

She held out the clippers to Rosa who took them and replaced them with the spray bottle. As she raised the bottle, Carmen looked like she was looking forward to what was coming. She aimed the nozzle at Stephanie’s hair and pulled the trigger.

Stephanie wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of high-powered spritzing that followed. Carmen didn’t spray as much as let off machine-gun-like blasts of water. She went over each spot multiple times, using her comb to get under the thick layers to get every strand wet. She started on Stephanie’s right and slowly moved around her head, spraying everything in sight.

As she got to Stephanie’s left, she noticed her hair still curving elegantly across her forehead and her spraying got even more aggressive. She seemed personally offended by the hair falling forward. She used the comb in concert with the spray bottle to force the hair back off her forehead.

“Stupid slutty hair on her face,” Carmen muttered under her breath, as she drove the comb into her hairline, harshly slicking back the hair, following it with violent sprays as if to plaster it in place.

Despite herself, Stephanie burst out, “What are you—”

Without pause, Carmen gave her two powerful blasts straight in the face. That shut her up. Then she continued spraying as if nothing happened.

Stephanie had never considered the word ‘gobsmacked’ before, but it now struck her as an accurate representation of her mindset. Her mouth was hanging open and her face was sopping wet. She actually thought there was water down her throat.

Rosa looked like she cracked a rib trying not to screech in laughter. She would’ve let fly if she hadn’t been afraid of distracting Carmen from her work.

Finally, Carmen seemed to believe the hair was sufficiently drenched and replaced the bottle on the counter. Stephanie had a nagging suspicion she only stopped because the bottle was empty.

Carmen turned to Stephanie, grabbed her chin with one hand and used the comb to begin forcefully combing the hair off her forehead and down to the sides, creating a sleek surface.

Next, she retrieved her scissors from the apron. She carefully selected a clump of hair on Stephanie’s right and snipped it off. She continued with the scissor-over-comb technique around her sides and back, meticulously working each section until it was exactly the length she wanted it.

Carmen finally stopped once the hair was an inch and a half on either side with a graduated nape.

She glanced in the mirror and noticed Stephanie’s face had taken on a defeated expression. She rather liked what she saw. Defeatism was good. It would keep her pliable. “You’re probably wondering what I’m doing with your hair, eh fresa?”

Stephanie didn’t respond.

Carmen grinned. “I’m giving you a very traditional haircut. It used to be really popular in the 1920s. Companies made a ton of hair products just for this. In fact, it’s even making a bit of a comeback now.”

Stephanie said in a crusty voice, “Pixies weren’t very popular in the 1920s.”

Carmen laughed at that. “Oh, fresa. I said it was a traditional haircut. I didn’t say it was a traditional haircut for women.”

Stephanie’s eyes widened for the umpteenth time that evening.

Carmen smiled and began steadily combing the wet hair on top. “I used to cut my boys’ hair like this. They hated it, but I forced them to do it. They’ve both left the house now and changed their look. But they still have to get it cut my way when they’re home for the holidays,” she said, chuckling.

Still sleeking Stephanie’s hair, Carmen said, “This will be a good style for you. Teach you some manners and responsibility. Teach you who is in charge.”

Stephanie wished she had the courage to jump out of that chair and leave. She didn’t and Carmen started trimming the top.

She took her time, working from front to back, ensuring it was exactly to her liking. She systematically reduced the length to around three inches on top.

Once she was done, she slipped the scissors back into her apron. She slowly walked around Stephanie, critically assessing her hair from all angles before nodding in satisfaction. “This looks good.”

She ran her comb through the top again. It was still a little damp. “Now we need to style it.”

Stephanie looked confused for the first time. Carmen noticed this and said, “You didn’t think this was it, did you? Hah! The best part is yet to come. I’m going to own that hair of yours.” Carmen actually rubbed her hands in pleasure. “This is going to be fun.”

Once again, she held out her hand to Rosa, who was watching intently.

On cue, Rosa placed a bright red tub in her palm. Carmen slowly unscrewed the lid to reveal a thick white cream in there. “I call this BRYL-65. I invented it,” she said.

She held the open tub under Stephanie’s nose and wafted the smell towards her. “You like how it smells?” Stephanie nearly gagged.

Carmen laughed. “Well you’re going to have to get used to it. You’ll never spend another day in your life without it,” she said, placing the tub on the counter.

“The problem with Brylcreem and similar pomades is that they don’t really have the hold. They make your hair all good and greasy, but can’t keep it in place throughout the day. So, I invented a product that not only gives you great shine, but will keep it looking neat all day, without sacrificing volume. You’ll see.”

With that, she reached over to the tub and scooped out a massive glob of product. She rubbed her hands together to warm up the pomade, producing greasy, squelching sounds.

Standing behind the chair, Carmen grinned her widest grin yet and plunged her hands into Stephanie’s hair. It wasn’t a greasing as much as a violent massage. Stephanie’s head was rocked back and forth as Carmen forcefully pummeled and rubbed the product into her hair.

She kept going for so long, Stephanie thought it would never end.

Only once she was confident that every strand was saturated, did Carmen ease off. She ended with a long slow slicking motion with her palms, starting at her forehead and ending at her nape.

Stephanie was appalled. She looked like one of those mobsters you’d see on black-and-white film posters.

Carmen held her hand out to Rosa who handed her a clean towel. She wiped the excess grease off her hands before handing it back. Stephanie noticed Rosa was breathing heavily in anticipation of something. So was Carmen for that matter.

“Time to tame this mess,” Carmen said. In a dramatic motion, she reached into the side of her apron and extracted something shiny. It reminded Stephanie of a samurai unsheathing his katana. It might as well have been.

Stephanie saw that Carmen had a metal comb in her hand. The most fine-toothed metal comb in existence, it would seem.

She approached Stephanie from the front this time, blocking out the mirror. She looked down at her captive, the relish of the moment evident in her face.

Carmen firmly gripped Stephanie’s chin with one hand. With the comb in the other, she re-established the part at the right side of her head. She precisely split the hair, combing the greased locks either way, creating a deep, clean part that was ramrod straight.

Satisfied, Carmen now moved to Stephanie’s right. She placed one palm on her head just above the part. Then using the comb, she began deliberately slicking the hair below the part backwards. The hair wasn’t used to doing that, so she used force, combing the hair from the temple to the nape. She repeated the motion until the hair on her side was nearly horizontal.

Then she turned her attention to the top, her lips pursed in concentration. She positioned her comb along the part line, and then combed the hair on top towards the opposite side. Carmen’s left palm quickly followed behind the comb to create a smooth, glistening pelt.

She repeated this dual motion several times, firmly combing the hair across her head. She kept going, ensuring the top was fully slicked to the left.

Stephanie could only watch in the mirror as the psychotic woman did what she wanted to her hair. There was a feverish energy about her, as if she were determined to impose her will on Stephanie’s life.

Deciding that the top was now combed to her liking, Carmen gave it one last swish and moved behind the chair. Her hair seemed well and truly plastered by now. But there was more that Carmen could do to humiliate her.

With Stephanie watching, she reached forward and with a smooth motion, combed the front of her hair back into a sleek quiff. Her left palm solidly followed the comb, smoothing out the comb tracks all along the surface of the hair.

She did this over and over again. Each motion starting at the forehead and ending at the back of her head, the palm always following the comb. She muttered under her breath as she combed, “Puta thinks she’s so smart. Gonna make her look like one of my neighborhood vatos. Pelo engominado, puta.” And she increased the intensity of her combing.

Stephanie didn’t understand all of the Spanish being thrown at her, but she understood that Carmen was getting worked up. She also understood, for the first time, that this was not going to be a temporary hairstyle.

The combing went on interminably. She looked in the mirror as her housekeeper kept forcibly slicking her hair back and smoothing it down, each stroke of the comb causing her forehead to lift with it.

Carmen did this to her until she was absolutely satisfied with what she had created.

When she could perfect it no more, she finally stepped back, breathing heavily. With an effort, she centered herself. She gently placed the metal comb on the counter and looked in the mirror.

Stephanie’s entire head was now a smooth, gleaming helmet. Her part stood out as clearly as if someone had shaved a line down the side of her head. Her sides were slicked straight back. The hair on her crown was combed to the left, and the front rose up in a shiny quiff, perfectly curving backwards and diagonally to the left. Carmen nodded to herself.

“So, fresa, how do you like what I’ve done to your hair?”

Stephanie was aghast. She had no words. Her once beautiful hair, the envy of everyone she met, was now this insane side-parted greaser ‘do that didn’t belong anywhere near a woman’s head. It didn’t belong on a man’s head in this day and age, come to that. She knew that if her social circle saw her like this, she would be utterly humiliated.

“What. Have. You. Done. To. Me?” Stephanie asked, the words sticking in her throat.

“I’ve reinvented you, amor!” Carmen said, her eyes popping. “Don’t you see? You wouldn’t look more different from your former slutty self if I shaved your head. I’ve demolished what you were and created beauty. You should appreciate what I’ve done to you.” She placed a hand around the back of Stephanie’s neck. “My niños took it a lot better than you, you know.”

Stephanie couldn’t bring herself to respond.

Rosa piped up, “I think this is your best work yet, hermana. She looks like a freak! She has a woman’s face and a man’s hair. A very old man’s hair. Or a boy’s hair. One of the two.” Rosa shrieked with laughter.

Carmen smiled indulgently. “Well, whether you like it or not, chicita, this is going to be your style every day until I’m in this house. And that’s going to be a long time. I will personally make sure you’re slicked up every morning — and whenever else I deem necessary. This style will become you and you will become it. This is the price of disrespect.”

Stephanie’s eyes began to glimmer. She didn’t think she could hold back the tears much longer.

Carmen noticed this and said, “Don’t go crying just yet, fresa! There’s still one final touch remaining.”

For one last time, she held her hand out. With a knowing smile, Rosa reached into the barber box and pulled out a metal canister which she handed to Carmen. Stephanie couldn’t bring herself to care. What more could they do?

“The whole point of giving you slicked back hair,” Carmen said, vigorously shaking the can, “is to make sure it stays that way. This is extra strength hairspray. It’s going to fully lock in this style.”

“Give her your special technique, Carmen,” yelped Rosa.

Carmen grinned and moved the can close to Stephanie’s right temple. Then with the nozzle inches away from her hair, she pressed down. She started spraying Stephanie’s side from front to back, following the direction of the combing. Then she moved to the top, steadily spraying her hair from right to left. Then at the front, spraying along the arch of the quiff, sealing every strand in place.

Then she moved back and sprayed her head in a wide circle several times. Stephanie had a coughing fit from all the hairspray.

Finally, Carmen set the empty can on the counter.

“Well, let’s see the results shall we?” she said and switched on the vanity lights around the mirror.

Stephanie’s head immediately shone like a beacon. It was an immovable glossy shell. Carmen grabbed Stephanie’s chin and forced her to look downwards so that her hair took the full force of the lights. Then she slowly moved her face to one side, and as she did, a broad streak of light crept over Stephanie’s head from right to left. She moved her face to the other side and found the streak of light moved with it.

Rosa whistled. “It’s a light show, Carmencita! A real light show!” She hooted with laughter. Carmen couldn’t help but join in this time. The puta was a walking light bulb. Her head was so shiny, it was almost a mirror.

There was a sudden noise at the doorway. Rick had returned to see what the laughing was all about. In that moment, he spotted his wife — her head bowed and her hair slicked back and gleaming obscenely.

The two latinas laughed even louder at the sight of Rick.

“How do you like your new wife, Rick?” Carmen yelled. “She’s gonna look like this from now on.”

Stephanie met Rick’s eyes, but couldn’t bear to hold his gaze. She quickly lowered her head as her tormentors’ laughter rang through the house.