Tacky and Upsetting
Savage Shaver story #2
‘Ryan?’ The cute ginger barista called out. ‘Double shot Americano for Ryan?’
The Savage Shaver raised his hand. ‘
That’s me, love.’
‘Do you want milk with that?’
‘No thanks, I’ll have it strong and black. Like me.’
She made an uncomfortable laugh and avoided eye contact as he took the chinking cup and saucer
Savage clocked her name tag: “Chloe”.
Chloe.
That was a name he wasn’t going to forget. He wondered how she was doing.
He took his coffee and sat outside the shop on one of the bistro tables, under the glass roof of the shopping precinct atrium.
An old Michael Jackson song played over the speakers, dim and distant and he tapped his foot to the beat.
“Fever, temperatures rising now,”
Opposite he had a view of a W.H Smith’s and could just about see the newspapers inside. A few carried hysterical headlines about his third attack.
He sipped his coffee. It tasted bitter and rich.
But the real draw was the hair salon opposite.
“Sparkles Hair Salon” was written in a swirly font over the shop front, which was almost entirely taken up by a huge window.
Not much action today. A couple of old biddies getting their perms done and that was about it. Six hairdressers in total and only two of them working.
One of them got up to answer phone on a reception desk by the door. She had long bleached blonde hair with ombré highlights.
‘It’s not 2007, love. You’d do well to lose those that barnet.’ He growled under his breath.
Mind you, it was a Wednesday and Wednesday was always a dead day for the shops.
He told himself after his coffee would go and do something productive with his day off which wasn’t connected to shaving.
He started to feel that he spent more time as The Savage Shaver than he did Ryan.
After coffee, he’d go home and do some jobs around the house, try and have a day free of his hair fetish madness.
He watched the hairdresser put the phone down and wonder back to her station.
What was he actually gaining from sitting on his own in a shopping mall anyway? Nothing. As soon as he’d drunk that coffee he would – hello.
On the left, a girl came through the atrium doors from the outside.
She grabbed his attention.
The first thing he saw was her hair. Dark brown, the colour of black chocolate, thick and long, past her shoulders.
It fell in natural waves.
There was something different, slightly exotic about her. She had a long face, dark eyes, full lips and perfect olive skin.
The girl had a big nose, but he liked it. Made her…what were the right words? Beatifically imperfect?
Was his luck in? Was it? It was!
She opened the door to Sparkles and walked in.
Well, maybe he would do a bit more hair stuff…
He wondered what she was getting done as the hairdresser with the ombres greeted her with a plastic customer service smile. Full head shave? Heh heh. No way, but it was fun to think about.
The dark haired girl settled into a chair, and a cap was sent swishing over her, and tucked up tight around her neck. Ryan could see their lips moving as haircut chitter-chatter bubbled up.
He kept on tapping his foot to the music.
“Don’t stop ‘till you get enough.”
The Savage Shaver decided that he hadn’t gotten enough, deciding to make his coffee last as long as her haircut took.
Blondie wetted the dark-haired girl’s locks with a spray bottle and started to gently comb through it. A wry smile smeared its way across his lips. That girl was a lot more gentle with her than he would be, if he had his way.
The music, the sounds off footfall around him, everything, died away. His watched in a state of tunnel vision.
It was a little disappointing. The hairdresser hardly snipped an inch off. What was the point of that? He’d take far more length off her for free!
By the time her trim was done, his coffee was stone cold. He up ended the cup and drank the dregs as she paid.
Completely oblivious to the man who had been sitting and watching her the whole time, she stepped out back into atrium and walked towards the door, flicking her hair as she went.
Instinct told him to follow her.
No.
Not today. That was too soon after Chloe. He would get cocky and that was how people like him got caught. It was how he got caught last time.
But you don’t have to do anything. You can just follow her and look at her hair. Yeah. Just look. Looking was fine, wasn’t it?
She was a fast walker and almost at the doors by the time Savage caught up with her.
He stayed a safe four paces back as she stepped outside, and dropped back further when they were on the street.
Not many people were about and she’d notice him if he got too close. The girl went past six different shop fronts, seemingly still oblivious to her. Savage let himself get a pace or so closer, close enough to catch the smell of her shampoo. Coconut, he reckoned. It was impossible to not think of her hair in his hands as his scissors scythed their way through it.
Fresh out of the salon. Oh, what a crying shame.
She was slowing now, heading towards a mini supermarket. The kind which had a neon “open” sign in the window. What the hell, he’d follow her in. He needed to buy a TV dinner for tonight and some beer, anyway.
The girl stopped to let an older couple through the door before she entered, so he had an excuse to stand close to her.
Savage admired her complete lack of dandruff and – Christ – her hair was thick. You could thatch a roof with it. A white strip where her middle parting was seemed to glow in the sunlight.
He tried picturing her whole head that pale and bright.
When the couple were gone she pulled open the door, and he went after her. As his foot moved past the freshold she let go.
Savage tried to dodge it, but he wasn’t fast enough.
‘Ah, shit!’ The metal door from swung back into his nose, sending pain shooting up it and across his whole face.
She spun round as he raised his hand to his face, cupping his nose. Something wet and warm was flooding his palm.
‘Oh my!’ she looked genuinely shocked. ‘I’m so sorry, are you OK?’
‘No I’m not,’ he spoke in a muffled voice, tasting his own blood. ‘Open your eyes you silly cow!’
‘I said I’m sorry!’
‘You will be if you’ve broken my fucking nose.’
‘Oh my,’ she repeated. ‘Have I?’
He was aware of a small group of people watching from behind. Loosing his temper out in the open like that wasn’t a good idea, especially with a woman. Trying to calm down, he gently pressed on the bridge of his nose. It didn’t move.
‘No. No we’re good.’ He took his hand away and saw the red smear on his palm.
‘Oh shit,’ she gasped, ‘I’ve really hurt you.’
Did she was know he was following him? He opened his mouth without thinking again.
‘You did that on purpose, didn’t you?’
‘No! Sir, you have the completely wrong idea. Do you need a tissue?’
Her voice was lower and huskier than he had been expecting, and had an accent which he struggled to place. He guessed somewhere in Europe.
‘No. No I’m good. But fuck me that hurts.’ He stepped out of the way of the door, and a few people passed now the initial drama was over.
‘I already said I’m sorry, already. What do you want me to do?’
‘Drop the attitude for a start, fuck me. Have someone slam a metal door in your face and see how you like it.’
‘It was an accident.’ She raised her voice. Even after nearly breaking his damn nose this woman was getting lippy.
‘Whatever.’ He wiped some blood off his moustache. ‘Dread to think what your man has to put up with.’
‘Actually,’ she said with a sting to her voice. ‘I’m single.’
‘Can’t think why.’ Savage said under his breath, as he walked away.
***
That evening, Savage sat in front of the TV with a sore nose. He’d ordered Chinese food but didn’t enjoy it.
Chloe’s shave was still top story news. She was just known as “a 22-year-old woman from the Stains area”.
Apparently the police were “following multiple lines of enquiry” which was their jargon for “we don’t have a fucking clue”.
He loaded up Netfilms to see if there were any Girls’ Embarrassment episodes that he’d missed. Nah. Nothing new. He re-watched the episode with all the blondes in it, and the brown haired bird. That was a good one.
At 10 O’Clock he watched the evening news in darkness to find he’d been knocked off the top spot by that doddering old twat of a US president saying something stupid.
Ah well, a little less heat on him was probably a good thing.
Eyes glazing over he let the news play on, and his mind wonder. He was still thinking about that dark haired girl. There was no need to lose his temper like that. She didn’t deserve it; it was an accident. But she’d made him look stupid. She still deserved to pay. With her hair.
It was a stupid idea: – he’d been seen with her in public. Chloe was pushing his luck as it was.
But as he lay in bed, he kept trying to imagine what she would look like without that hair.
Not so great.
He didn’t sleep much that night.
***
THE NEXT DAY
Eleana was working from home and was having difficulty concentrating on what she was doing.
She hadn’t really needed a haircut, but it was her treat to herself. Just the thought of being caped up in a salon and having somebody cut her hair, even just a tiny bit turned her on.
But those little trims that she didn’t really need, always sparked the other fantasies.
The more extreme ones. The ones where her hairdresser would tie her to the chair, and she wouldn’t be strong enough to fight back.
In those fantasies her hair would be wrecked – hacked to bits for fun – or a horrible, extreme style she would never chose would be forced on her.
Making sure her laptop’s camera was turned off, she looked into a mirror, pinning up her hair, trying to picture herself with a 360c undercut. No, she was in the mood for something more extreme.
Eleana started to wonder what she would look like with a flattop.
Maybe she could book another appointment? She would have to leave it for a month’s time to not make it suspicious (she would be horrified if her hairdresser knew she was getting hot in the chair). Not for anything extreme of course, but maybe she could ask for two, maybe three inches to be taken off? That wasn’t too weird, was it?
A mental barrier came down.
Actually parting with hair, rather than just fantasising about was a lot more difficult.
Eleana cultivated a traditionally feminine look, and had done since childhood.
Stepping out in one of her flowery dresses with a masculine haircut would make her look ridiculous.
And when she looked in a mirror would she even recognise herself after giving herself something she would have to live with for months or even years?
It was such a cruel kink for a woman to have.
If she imagined herself with a buzzcut, she started to feel herself get wet. Then, when she imagined her hair on the floor, she started to feel her eyes water.
She did her best to shake those thoughts out of her mind and carry on with her day.
***
During his lunch break, Savage parked a ten-minute walk away from the shopping mall where Sparkles was.
The coffee shop opposite was a little busier today, but the salon was about the same.
Running through his spiel, he didn’t give him any time to prepare himself. He had to be back on the road soon, and he didn’t want anybody at work thinking that he had gone AWOL.
Turning his camera phone and holding it in his hand, he pushed the door open. He was hit with the smell of shampoo, mousse and warm hair. One woman, a brunette was having her hair blow dried.
The diary was open, showing today and yesterday. One of the hairdressers, a prim and proper sort in her 50s with large, round frame glasses spotted him and started walking towards him.
Savage took a snap with his camera, pretty confident that he’d taken a picture of what he needed.
‘Can I help you?’ The hairdresser looked suspicious, her mouth smiling but her eyes weren’t.
‘Ah, yeah, thanks, please.’ He had rehearsed this. It would be fine. ‘Yeah, look, sorry to disturb you, but have you got a business card or something?’
‘A business card?’ she went behind the desk and plucked one out of a holder, but kept her eyes on him. ‘Yes. For…your hair?’ she kept the card just out of arm’s reach.
He did a fairly convincing fake belly laugh. ‘No, not for my hair love, my Mrs, she’s got a wedding to go, yeah. Wants to look good and she hasn’t been to the hairdressers in years.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Her face immediately softened, and she handed him the card. ‘Of course!’
‘Thanks.’ He gave her is most charming smile.
Once he was back inside his vehicle, he looked at the picture he’d taken. Now, he had a clear image of all the appointments from the previous day.
His girl walked in at about 11.
There were four appoints for around then. One full name, and rest were first names or initials: Barbara Wilkins, Sarah, Anne.S and Eleana.
Eleana was the only name which sounded vaguely foreign to him.
She was one step closer to paying with her hair.
That evening after work, Savage made a nice sugary cup of tea, and sat in front of his laptop.
He typed “Eleana” into Facebook to see what he got. 100s, or if scrolled long enough, no doubt 1000s of Eleanas.
Instead he typed their town into the search bar, along with her name.
Nothing.
Hmmm. He scratched his stubble, thinking of what tact to try next. Most people when they come to live in the UK from overseas, even if they’re three fucking hours from London have it as their location. Savage searched for “Eleana, London”.
Nothing. Unless…
He brought up the Facebook page for Sparkle’s hair salon, and went straight to the list of people who had liked it, then searched for her there.
Bingo. She came up instantly. It was her alright (it wasn’t like he was going to forget her face in a hurry).
Her Facebook profile picture was taken behind a window, as she smiled sweetly for a selfie. Looking into her eyes, pixelated on his screen his said:
‘I’m so sorry, love. You don’t really deserve this, do you?’
In the background he could see enough details to triangulate her location – that would be his homework for tomorrow. That was fine. He liked homework.
***
FOUR DAYS LATER
Eleana was feeling a little bad about herself. On the bus home, she scrolled the news sites on her phone. She tried telling herself that she was just keeping up with the news, staying on top of a crazy world. But why lie to herself? What this was really about what finding Savage Shaver news stories.
It was wrong, she knew, to be turned on by something so horrific. But the thought of somebody breaking into her house and forcing her to go bald made her tingle. But it was just the thought. Purely fantasy.
Anyway, she wasn’t getting turned on by thinking about it happening to those poor girls – only her.
One headline caught her eye. It was near the bottom of the BBC news page.
“What’s motivating The Savage Shaver? A psychologist shares their perspective”
She skim-read most it, with only a few sentences catching her eye:
“This is most likely born from a desire for control or domination. Typically, people driven by these factors come from a background of very little autonomy or agency. It may sound like a cliché to suggest that this person has unresolved issues stemming from childhood or earlier life, but to me, this is a person ‘making up for something’.”
Eleana felt herself shudder a little bit at that. The thought of years and years of repression being unleashed, and concentrated on one person? That was frightening.
In some way, she could sympathise with him. She knew what it was like to have to repress desire for years and years at a time.
No! Don’t think that! Don’t even go there!
Some strange superstitious part of her thought that if she even thought anything that was vaguely sympathetic towards him, he would become magnetised to her.
It was nonsense, and she knew it. Even so, she tired as hard as possible to think of anything but The Savage Shaver on the ride back – focussing on the streets rolling past the windows instead, looking at all the people outside pubs and cafes, enjoying the sun.
All that was waiting for her was an empty apartment.
She took the lift up to the sixth floor, her backpack weighing heavy after a long day. That stupid laptop got heavier every day, she swore.
The hallway, carpeted and brightly lit, was empty. Everybody else all seemed to be out.
As soon as she stepped into the semi-darkness of her apartment, she shrugged off the backpack and kicked off shoes.
When she knew it was going to be another hot day, she’d made sure the balcony curtains were shut. It had half worked – it wasn’t as sticky and horrible as she’d been fearing.
Maybe some music soon, but first – fresh air. The place was feeling musty and stale.
Reaching through the curtains, she undid the balcony doors, and slid them open, careful to keep the curtains closed and not let any sun in.
Feeling a breeze on her back, she turned on her Bluetooth speaker on the bookshelf, and tried to decide what to play. She was in the mood for…Eleana stopped.
The feeling of eyes on her neck. She felt it. Every little hair on her body stood up. Somebody was in the flat with her.
Standing still, her mind raced as she decided what to do. Was she overreacting to absolutely nothing at all? Was all The Savage Shaver stuff getting her?
Eleana spoke firmly to herself in her head. It’s been a long week. You’re tired. And a little bit freaked out. Turn around, there’s nobody there.
Spinning on her heels, she felt a warm rush of relief. Nobody there.
Then she saw it. Through the gap in the curtains. A black shape. The shape moved, and the curtains parted.
‘Boo.’ The Savage Shaver walked right into her apartment.
Eleana wanted to scream at the sight of this man in her apartment, but her throat had gone dry.
Fear gushed through her – like an acid yellow, burning liquid.
She bolted. The door was just a few feet away. Eleana was fast. Her feet thudded across the floor, and his did too. Loud manic footsteps. She was fast, But he was faster.
Reaching out for the door handle, she stopped, like she’d hit an invisible barrier.
She felt a hand gripping her ankle, and fell, putting her arm out to break her fall.
‘Get off me you bas-‘
A glove hand smothered her mouth, and at the same time she felt a weight on her back. She was being straddled, like a horse, lying flat on her front.
‘What were you going to call me? A Bastard? That’s not very nice is it?’
Trying to scream at him, all she could make was a muffled shrieking sound, feeling the moisture of her mouth on his glove.
‘Kind of you to let me in, by the way. Didn’t even have to knock.’
Eleana tried to shake him off, but he just as well have been made of concrete.
‘Now, I’ll do you a deal,’
She carried on trying to throw him off.
‘Stop wriggling about! Christ, you’re gonna hurt yourself. As I was saying-’
Something in her told her that it was a good idea to listen to him.
‘I’ll do you a deal,’ he continued. ‘All I want is your hair, OK? That’s all. You’ve seen the news stories, you know that’s all. Now if you don’t scream, don’t make a fuss, I’ll shave you, pack up and go. But if you make a fuss, this will be a lot worse. Do you want the nice Savage Shaver or the pissed off Savage Shaver?’ He slightly relaxed the hand over her mouth. ‘Eleana? Which do you want?’
He knew her name. But he pronounced it Elaine-a, not Elly-ana. So he didn’t know her well. She tried moving her lips, and he took his hand away from her mouth, but kept it in touching distance of her lips.
‘Nice Savage Shaver.’
‘Excellent.’ She could hear the smile in his voice. ‘Play the game and you’ll be fine. Well, bald, but fine otherwise.’
Her heard started to thud.
‘Bald?’ she said aloud.
‘Well, yeah. Not going through all this trouble to trim your split ends, am I?’
She felt his weight shift until he was over her legs, pressing them together. Her thin wrists were taken by his hands. Something wrapped around them and was then pulled tight.
‘Cable tie.’ He explained.
She sobbed as the reality of what was happening set in. ‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘Oh, I think I do.’
With her arms immobile, he felt him turn around and do the same to her ankles. Panic fluttered inside her. He could do whatever he wanted. It didn’t matter what he said about being “nice” now, she was completely at his mercy.
Eleana gasped when he scooped one arm under her midriff and the other over her shoulders. She was helpless. As she was carried off, she had the strange upside-down view of her apartment.
After swinging her around like a toy, he found her bedroom and laid her down on the bed.
‘Go on then, up you get.’
‘I don’t want to…’ she curled into a ball (or the closest thing she could do to curling up into a ball). The Shave Shaver manhandled her, forcing her to sit up on her knees.
Eleana’s hair had fallen across her face, obscuring her view. She tried moving it away from her eyes, by flicking her head.
He took pity on her, and swept it back.
She had been arranged so she was looking directly into her bedroom mirror.
‘I have to watch?’
He pulled up her dressing table chair so it was close to the bed. ‘Sometimes I think it’s more fun to see the reactions in the mirror after I’ve done it, sometimes, I want my girls to watch it as it happens.’
She looked at him, through the ski mask, trying to make out his eyes.
‘I have to watch…You want me to look at my reflection…That’s going to be hard for to do, this is…’ the acceptance that she was going to loose her hair started to sink in. ‘This is insane.’
He upturned his palms. ‘Go on. You know you want to.’
‘Know I want to what?’
Shrugging off his backpack he said: ‘Call me sick. Everyone does.’
‘You’re not sick.’
‘Oh?’ he crossed his legs, like he was getting comfy.
How could she accuse him of being sick? She’d fantasised about this kind of thing for years, watching videos of girls getting shaved, sometimes wondering what it would be like to shave another girl’s head. He had to catch her, of all people. No, he wasn’t sick…But the wanting to force her into it, forcing his will on others, tearing away their femininity…that was…
‘Evil.’ She whispered. ‘You’re an evil man.’
‘Now, that’s a bit strong. It’s only hair, not like I’m killing people is it? Not like I’m fucking cutting their legs off or some shit.’
‘But it’s not just hair!’ she found herself straining against the cables ties around her wrists. She knew he would catch her if she tried running away anyway, but not resisting the cable ties was impossible. ‘It’s so much more important than that, and you know it! Why else would you do this?’
‘Why does anybody do anything, my sweet? Now, let’s have a good look at you.’ He got up and stood close by the bed, looking her up and down. ‘You’re not too bad looking, are you?’
‘Not too bad looking? Is that meant to be a compliment?’ She said it without sarcasm. It was hard to know what this masked lunatic was really thinking.
‘Well, you’re pretty, but you’re not perfect are you?’
‘Nobody’s perfect.’ She mumbled.
‘No, very true.’ His tone was casual, almost cheerful as he went down to rummage in his backpack. When he stood back up he was holding a pair of scissors.
Eleana’s heart started to pound and her mouth was dry. She felt her pulse thud through her entire body. All that time she had spent fantasising about what it would be like to lose her hair…Now it was going to happen, it wasn’t in the slightest bit hot, sexy, or exciting. In fact, it made her want to throw up.
‘Are you…’ she was losing control of her breathing; she was struggling to get her words out. ‘G-going to t-take all of it off right now?’
‘You know what, no. I was going to break you in slowly.’
She took in a gulp of air. ‘Ok. Please, don’t be too mean. Just do a little bit first. Please?’
He moved behind her, and she watched him in the mirror as he stroked her hair.
‘Lucky for you, I’m in a good mood. But can you do something for me?’ he said softly.
‘What?’
‘I’ll take it slow if you keep looking in that mirror the whole time. No cheating. No closing your eyes.’
Eleana pulled a face. ‘Man, that’s really cruel…’
‘Well, they don’t call me The Nice Shaver, do they? Now, keep your pretty eyes open, and your weird face pointing at the mirror.’
‘Weird face?’ She turned to look at him, the indignation cutting through the fear, momentarily. ‘You think I have a weird face?’
‘Ah well, maybe a bit.’ He took on the tone of somebody teasing a mate.
‘What makes my face weird?’ Genuine curiosity mixed with the sting of a personal insult.
‘This, for a start,’ He reached over and gently flicked her nose. She flinched, turning away for a moment. ‘And your long face, that’s different to other girls.’
Bristling, she asked him: ‘OK, so different? That’s what you mean? Just different. Not ugly.’ She looked back at the mirror. ‘Well, I guess that’s ok.’
‘Yeah, on the whole you’re OK,’ he pointed to her with the scissors. ‘Apart from that mole on your forehead, I could do without looking at that.’
That stung her even more. The sting hurt every bit as much as a physical sting. It was as if this man knew exactly what Eleana was insecure about and was attacking it.
‘Now you’re being personal.’
‘Oh,’ he made a cold, fake laugh. ‘You think this is personal? Sweetheart, you ain’t seen nothing yet.’
He took hold of her dress around the collar, and she felt herself tugged towards him. Icy cold panic shot through her body. She pivoted on her knees to try and get away from him, but he just pulled her closer.
It happened so fast.
The Savage Shaver ran the scissors down her dress, starting from the mid-section of her collar. He used them like a knife, and cut through the material without closing the blades.
Eleana gasped, as he whipped the ruined dress away from her in one, leaving her just in her knickers and bra.
Goose pimples instantly prickled across her body. In that moment, she would have given almost anything to be able to cover up again. With her kneeling, her already big, pale thighs looked massive, almost comedically so against her modest boobs, nestled tightly together in her bra.
What could she do? As she saw her face go red in the mirror, she knew there was nothing that could be done. Any protest, any whimper, any anger, would probably just make it even better for him.
‘Not bad!’ he said approvingly. ‘Not bad at all! Smile, I’m giving you a compliment.’
‘I don’t have to do anything for you. I’d rather you just shave my damn head then leave me alone.’
‘I’d just take the compliments, love. You won’t be getting many, not from me, not from other guys, for quite a while.’
‘So you’re saying I’ll look ugly bald? Great.’
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. But it’s part of the fun!’ He reached over and took hold of her bra strap.
A fresh stab of panic struck her. She wanted to behave to keep him on side, but the urge to pull away from him was involuntary.
‘No!’ “No”. How pathetic, she thought. Was saying no ever going to stop him. Men like him didn’t respond to no.
It didn’t.
‘If you keep messing around like that, I’ll cut it off.’
She was tugged towards him by her bra strap, which he unclipped.
‘Oh God.’ She muttered to herself. Eleana knew he was going to make fun of her little boobs. That push up bra did a lot for her…
As he unthreaded it from her, Eleana’s boobs disappeared.
Perky, but tiny, with her nipples standing rock hard.
The Savage Shaver threw the bra to one side and stood back. ‘Oh dear.’
‘What do you mean “oh dear”?’ Eleana could hear the emotion creeping into her voice. She felt vulnerable, soft and exposed as he looked at her.
‘No tits…and very soon…No hair!’
His words stuck in her and twisted like a knife. Tits. Hair. A woman needed at least one of those things to be considered feminine.
Who would she even be without her hair?
‘Face of weirdly pretty girl…Body of a boy.’
‘I do not have the body of a boy!’ Her voice was getting chocked with emotion.
‘Bollocks! I’ve got bigger tits than you. I warned you I was going to get personal.’
At this point, she thought the best strategy would be to go neutral – not antagonise him, not turn him on.
‘Yes, you did warn me.’
‘Now then, you still want to be broken in gently?’ He taken a section of her hair and was gently twiddling between his fingers.
She swallowed. ‘Yes. Please.’
The Savage Shaver nodded, then started to mess up her hair even more so it spilled over her face, blocking her view of the mirror. She had to blow on it to stop it from going in her mouth.
‘W-what are you doing?’
‘Exactly what you asked me to do, love.’
Eleana flinched as she felt the cold blades on her forehead.
Ssscccchhhhnap!
Bits of her vision were restored.
Ssscccchhhhnap!
She could see herself in the mirror again, as The Savage Shaver cut off another clump of her hair. Eleana realised her was cutting her some bangs.
Oh if only he was stopping there. She didn’t think bangs would look good on her, but it would be a lot better than what he was going to leave her with.
As he tidied up her crude bangs, she felt a sense of irony. Finally, she got what she had fantasised about for years and years. A forced haircut, and maybe a forced head shave. But now it was happening? Her entire body was shaking and felt sick to her stomach.
This wasn’t a fantasy she could rub one out to. This was real life. Whatever happened today, she would have to live with for a long time…
He cut a few smaller chunks off, then when he stepped back, she could her new look for the first time.
Her eyes went wide, her eyebrows shot up, closer to her bangs.
It was jarring, it made her look so different.
Eleana’s mouth hung open. She looked so different. The bangs seemed to change her whole face shape…make her look less intelligent, somehow, more ditzy.
A very, very, distant part of her was enjoying it, but it was shouted out by the panic still flooding her body and the dread of what was to come. Any sexual arousal was impossible.
‘Yeah, sorry.’ He said. ‘My head shaving skills?’ The Savage Shaver made a chef’s kiss. ‘Fucking sublime, mate. My actual haircutting skills? Less so.’
He had a point. They were blocky, uneven and very clearly cut in dry, by an amateur.
‘Well…’ She swallowed, and it took her a long time until she carried on and finished her sentence, unable to take her eyes off her reflection.
‘One good thing, I guess…I know never to get these when my hair grows back.’
He laughed, loudly. ‘I think it’s going to be a few years until you’re in that territory, isn’t it?’
A lump caught in her throat. It would be. If he shaved her completely, she guessed it would be five years, or even more before it reached that length.
That made her feel like a deep, dark pit had opened up in her stomach. The feeling of what it would feel like to grow it back from nothing…there wasn’t a word for the feeling.
‘One thing is does do for you, though.’ He was going through his backpack again. ‘Is it hides that mole.’
She swallowed. ‘Does that mean that you’re going to leave that bit?’
‘Hmm, depends on how my mood takes me.’ He said playfully, like he wasn’t taking it one bit seriously. ‘A bit more motivation for you to sit there quietly and be good, isn’t it?’
Eleana said nothing, but looked straight ahead, completely still at the mirror.
The Savage Shaver stood up again, holding some corded hair clippers ‘Don’t worry, I’ve given the blades a good clean since I did the last girl.’ He said as he plugged them in.
That made her feel even worse – feeling that she was just the latest in a production line to lose her hair.
Her bedroom filled with a low humming sound when he turned them on. This was a different kind of panic now. The sort of panic she would feel if she was tied to train tracks, and saw one coming down the line towards her. No way of getting out. Too late. But she would still try.
‘Do you have any idea how much this is going to mess me up?’ she knew it was probably the worse thing she could possibly say, but the words tumbled out of her mouth automatically.
‘I have a fairly decent idea.’
She could see him getting closer to the bed, wielding the silver clippers. The buzzing got louder as he stood closer to her.
Now, Eleana’s heart was beating so fast, so hard, it felt ready to burst out of her chest. Her vision started to go a little bit fuzzy.
‘Please, don’t please! I know you do this for a reason, and I don’t hate you. Just…’ she tried to tamp back the first wave of tears which she felt coming. ‘Please can you be nice to me and not shave me? You must feel bad, just a little bit?’
‘No.’
The damn burst, and hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed.
‘This my hair…it’s a part of me, and you’re just going to take it? How can you do that to a woman?’ Her shoulders shook as she cried, not fighting it, just letting it happen.
‘Look in the mirror, Eleana. Remember what I said.’ There was no humour in his voice now. It was cold and calm.
Doing as he said, she looked straight ahead, her cheeks glistening with tears.
‘I was hoping to meet somebody here…’ she said miserably. ‘Now who’s going to look at me?’
‘Ahh, some weirdo who’s into ugly bald girls.’
That prompted another wave of sobs. There was no stopping it, and the tears flowed out of her. Eleana hated herself for it, hated herself for the fact she was letting herself cry like a little girl over her hair. The last time she cried that hard, she was a 6-year-old. Crying her eyes out because she felt so horribly alone when she was left by herself at home, fearing that nobody would come back, and that nobody cared.
Feeling herself shrink, back to being a little girl, she accepted it.
Now the buzzing was louder, feeling like the sound itself was filling her whole head.
He leaned over. She could see in the reflection, he was holding the clippers just shy of the crude parting he’d made when he’d given her the bangs.
‘Say bye-bye hair, see you later.’ He seemed to have sensed how she felt, and he was using a soft, almost fatherly tone.
Eleana tried to speak, but all she could do was make formless wailing sounds.
The Savage Shaver repeated himself, and she managed to get something out.
Eleana wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but that was an adult thing to say. The adult had left her body.
‘B-bye hair.’ It was hardly even a whisper.
He lowered it to her head, and Eleana felt a fizzing sensation across her whole skull. A horrible crackling sound, then a hiss as the clippers began to plough a path down the centre of her head.
She felt the air on her bald strip, and the warm, soft hair slide down her bare back.
This was it. No going back. A white stripe ran down the middle of her head.
She wasn’t crying now. All she could do was stare.
It was surreal.
He moved to her left, and then she felt a horrible scratching feeling from the clippers as they cleared another path, then the same feeling of the soft hair against her back.
Then again.
Now, half of her crown was bald.
She was expecting him to stop, and admire his work, but carried on, moving to work on the right side of her head.
Only when her crown was shaved, he stopped the clippers.
When she tilted her head up, it looked like she still had a full head of hair in the mirror.
He was breathing heavily, running his down the hair which tumbled untouched, down the side of her head.
‘Maybe I could leave you like this?’
She had the feeling he was just teasing her anyway. ‘My hair is still messed up for good now anyway.’ The adult in her had come out to play. ‘Just as well have your fun and finish it…’ she muttered.
The Savage Shaver made a grim little laugh. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll finish what I started.’ Then, he took her bangs and lightly tugged at them.
‘Ahh! That hurts!’
He chuckled, then let them go. ‘Right then. I don’t have all evening.’ The horrible buzzing started again. He took a length from the right side of her head, upper cheek, just in front of her ear.
The buzzing was even louder now, and the lock of hair went slack as the blades cut through it.
It tickled as he threw it on her thighs. Without stopping, we went up and over ear, and the hair settled next to her on the bed.
Then, he worked in downwards strokes. He was rough now, doing it quickly. As he moved to the back of her head, still working in downward strokes, she cringed. Eleana could hear her gorgeous hair being butchered, but not see it. In a way she couldn’t describe, that was worse than actually seeing it go.
He seemed to work for a long time on the back of her head. Downwards strokes, then upwards ones. That was when her head really started to feel lighter, and the air chilled her bare neck. The upwards strokes felt worse, and hurt a little. Eleana could feel little tufts of fluff tickle her neck as he made that return pass.
He put one hand on the top of her head to keep it still as he worked.
‘Well, you have a nice shaped head. At least you’ve got that going for you.’
Finding herself able to speak again, she said: ‘That’s not something any girl wants to hear.’ She blinked tears out of her eyes.
The Savage Shaver ignored her, moving on the other side of her head, where it still hung to halfway down her back.
This time, he started from the back of her head, moving towards the ear. The pile around was getting bigger and bigger, and she could feel it against the side of her legs.
Working quickly, he kept going until the strands ahead of her ear were left. He zipped them off with the clippers in less than two seconds.
Now, she just had her bangs left. What she was left with, was a very messy Chelsea cut.
She sent a silent prayer, to anybody who would listen, that he would at least let her keep the bangs.
A Chelsea wasn’t her style, but at least it was a style.
Eleana let out a sigh when he turned the clippers off.
Her hair covered her body and the bed. She could smell it – her coconut shampoo. As for her head, that was covered in rough stubble.
Years of growth.
Gone.
He took a few steps back. ‘Like it?’
She didn’t say anything. All Eleana did was stare at her reflection, blinking tears away. The girl she’d known before was gone.
‘I assume that’s a no.’
‘Yes…It’s a no.’ Eleana whispered, looking down at the locks covering her body and the bed, playing with them, rolling them around in her hands.
‘Maybe a tidy up will make you feel a bit better about it?’
She snapped her head upwards to look at him. ‘What do you mean?’
He stroked her bangs. ‘Don’t you worry yourself. I’m not talking about these.’
She noticed him holding something in his hand. A can of shaving cream. He threw it on the bed.
‘Oh…’
‘What do you mean, “Oh”? Most of your hair’s already gone, innit? What difference does it make if I take off, what, half a millimetre?’
‘It’s just…’ she sniffed. Something about the skin on her head being completely bare make her stomach churn. ‘Nothing.’
‘It’s just nothing…’ he muttered quietly, sending a large dollop of the white liquid into his hand. ‘Insightful.’
She could smell the vaguely medical, vaguely perfumed smell of the shaving cream as he smeared it around her head. His hand rasped over the stubble as he smeared it around.
Her chest rise and fell as she sighed. Resignation. ‘Careful…please.’
‘You have nothing to worry about.’ He dived down and took a disposable razor out of his bag. ‘I’m good at this bit.’
She hadn’t been expecting the razor to feel as strange on her scalp as it did. Sure, she felt a razor against her skin when she did her legs, but the way it pulled on her scalp was horrible.
The razor may have been gliding smoothly, but she had the sensation of the last remains of her hair being torn from her.
The Savage Shaver was quiet now. Focused, shaving Eleana’s head in long, smooth strokes.
She watched in the mirror as the shaving cream gave way to completed naked, shining wet skin.
Every now and again, he would flick the left over shaving cream from the razor, and it kept landing on her thighs.
There was nothing to cry about now. Apart from her bangs, the hair was already gone.
Salty tears dried on her cheeks as he worked.
He gave her head a light slap when he was done, and she looked up at him, glaring.
‘Did you really have to slap me?’
He did it again.
‘Ow!’ the skin was raw and blotchy, and that time it stung.
‘Yes.’ He laughed, standing back, arms folded, reminding her of a tradesman who was proud of his work
Meanwhile, Eleana turned her head at various angles, trying to come to terms with her new look. Her rounded head was at least two tones lighter than her face.
How the hell was she meant to go out looking like this? What were people going to say at work? Would people stare? Cross the street when they saw her coming because she looked insane?
‘So is this it? What happens now?’
He cupped his chin in his hand. ‘Well…I suppose I could go, couldn’t I?’
She swallowed. ‘But you won’t?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s a lot of effort, you know. Doing my homework, scoping you out, casing the joint first. I want to get my money’s worth, always.’
Her mouth went dry again. ‘…What do you mean?’
‘I think I’ve been nice, haven’t I?’ He tugged at her bangs, and she nearly lost her balance. ‘Leaving you with this, haven’t I?’
‘Yes! Yes, you have!’ Nice, she thought, he was anything that this man had done been nice? ‘You’re not thinking off…No please…’
The room was filled with buzzing again as he held the clippers. She felt a lump in her throat again, her eyes watering again. Not the bangs. She looked stupid with just bangs, but being totally bald – that would be even worse.
‘I’ll cut you a deal.’
Eleana, choked back a fresh wave of tears. ‘OK. Anything.’ She quickly corrected herself. ‘Not anything but…What’s the deal.’
‘I’ve always wanted to shave a girl’s pussy. I suppose you could call it one of my bucket list things, but what you believe it? Never done it.’
She creased her face with disgust. ‘Oh God, no. Not that.’
He made a dirty little laugh, which was almost mischievous. ‘Are you a shaver Eleana? Is it a bare bush down there, or in full leaf?’
This wasn’t an avenue she wanted to go down. Eleana tried to think of a way of rebuffing him, without pissing him off. ‘Sir, please! I don’t want to answer that, it’s personal.’
‘Alright, have it your way.’
‘What do you – ’ Before she could finish her sentence, his hands were clamped over her shoulders. She tried resisting, but there was no way of regaining her balance with her hands tied behind her back. She fell, so she was on her back.
The Savage Shaver sprung onto the bed, and took hold of her knickers. She felt the elastic tighten as he pulled them.
‘No! Noooo!’ She tried moving her legs to make it more difficult for him, but it was hopeless.
He slid her knickers down to her knees, exposing her bush.
‘Fuck me, not seen one of them in some time. Like something out a ‘70s porno.’
Something about being objectified in that way instantly made her cry.
‘Yeah, boo hoo, hardly the worst thing that’s happened to you today is it? That’s the thing you European girls, not so keen on shaving the old lady gardens are you?’
‘Please,’ she pleaded, ‘Not this.’
‘What, you wanna keep that thing?’
‘Yes.’ She sobbed. ‘I don’t want you shaving me down there…and…I like it the way it is.’ Thinking of somebody shaving “her little friend”…Having cutting implements and exposing it in that way was genuinely frightening.
He kept hold of her knickers, in the way somebody would keep hold of a dog’s collar.
‘Alright then, here’s the deal. You can chose. What do you want shaved? Pussy or bangs.’
She sobbed again. This was a ridiculous situation to be in. ‘Oh, come on! Neither. I don’t want either shaved.’
‘You have to pick one…c’mon, decide.’
Eleana made a sound halfway between a moan and a sob. ‘Really? I have to chose one?’
He nodded his head.
Thinking about it for a few moments, she ran some calculations. Having another person, and a crazy one at that shave her privates was terrifying.
If her head was shaved completely, she could always buy a wig. Could she wear a wig over her Chelsea cut? Probably not.
‘Bangs. Take my bangs.’
‘Your wish is my command. He let her knickers go, keeping them around hertknees. ‘Up you get.’
Eleana tried to get up, but wasn’t quite strong enough to sit up straight with everything tied up like that. The Savage Shaver had to pull her up.
He turned his clippers on again, and she was back looking into the mirror, this time with her dark bush exposed and knickers round her knees.
Another sob made her shoulders lurch. She looked utterly ridiculous. Had their been a lower point in her life? She didn’t think so.
He bought them back to her head, the side ways, right to left swiped the clippers.
Hair scattered over face, landing on her nose, then tumbling down on her head.
The bangs were still in place, but about 70% thinner than they had been before. Her face crumpled and reddened as her sobs got louder.
Then, slowly, unbearably so, he made a last pass with the clippers. The very last of what had been a head of thick, dark, well cared for hair plopped sadly onto her lap.
Eleana howled, as if in physical pain, when she saw how it looked. Her nose looked bigger, and somehow, her eyes looked smaller. There was hiding that hideous mole anymore.
‘What have you done to me? You bastard.’ She began to wail like a little girl again.
‘Made you look like shit?’
‘Oh, thanks!’ she said through tears. ‘Thanks a lot, that’s just what you should say to a girl after taking away all of her hair.’
‘Hey! I’ve left you with some.’ He rubbed the patch of stubble left behind when he took her bangs.
As started to pack his bags, she wondered he possibly got out of this? Who got pleasure from making a girl look worse, making her unhappy with how she looked? What sort of messed up mind could ever see the pleasure in that?
He began to pack his things away, humming to himself.
Eleana didn’t feel upset now. She felt numb. A shell. A hollowed out husk where a pretty, happy girl once was.
‘I’m sort of scared to ask but…Is it over now? Will you go?’
‘Soon as I’m packed up, my love, I will get out of your hair.’
‘Out of my hair? That isn’t funny.’ She looked down at the locks scattered over her bedsheet.
‘It is for me.’ He was wrapping the cord around the clippers. The Savage Shaver looked like he took great care of all his tools. Why was that surprising? He seemed to think of himself as some sort of craftsman.
‘You’ve had your fun now, can untie me before you go? Please?’
He was scooping up the razor, and the shaving can of shaving cream. Eleana felt a little bit ill when she saw him pick up a thick lock of her hair, and drop it in his backpack. What was he going to do with that?
‘No way, I’m afraid sweetheart. If I do that, you’ll be running down the corridor, banging every door, screaming. I’ll get carted away.’ He tapped the side of his head with a gloved finger. ‘I’m not stupid.’
‘How am I meant to get untied?’ she said, incredulous. ‘I’ll be stuck here forever.’
‘No you won’t, don’t talk daft. You’re a clever girl, you’ll work it out.’ He put on his backpack, then casually walked out of the bedroom.
‘No! Wait! Please, just…’ she tried easing herself off the bed, but fell onto her side. ‘Undo my hands, or something.’ She had been counting down the seconds until he would be gone, now she was panicking that he was leaving. ‘Please! Wait!’ she shuffled out of her bedroom as quickly as she could on her knees, purposely averting her eyes from the mirror.
By the time she got into the living room, he was gone. The curtains had been parted. On the balcony, the furniture had been rearranged, she assumed to help him escape.
Eleana tried to pull her wrists apart, but the cable ties were so strong, they just as well have been steel.
Swearing under her breath, she shuffled her way to the door, bald and naked. Her knickers had now moved down to her ankles.
There was no other way to get help.
Using her mouth, she opened her front door and prepared to shuffle down the landing to look for help.
Not in any of her fantasies, did she ever imagine it ending like that.
