The Savage Shaver

Savage Shaver story #1

‘You know you’re literally the only person ever to make that uniform look good?’

Chloe felt herself blush. She didn’t really know what her boyfriend saw in her, but Dan seemed besotted with her. ‘Getting hot for me in my Tesco uniform? Boy, you have no chill.’

He propped himself up on the bed, leaning on his elbow to get a last look at her arse in black Primark knickers. Chloe felt his eyes on her as she shimmied into her trousers. She decided that she quite liked feeling his eyes on her.

The trousers had been designed by a pervert, she was sure of that. The crappy black fabric was practically sprayed on, and accentuated what was otherwise a virtually non-existent bum. She’d spent years hearing from older relatives how she would “fill out” when she got older, but with her 22^ndbirthday only a few months away, Chloe was still waiting to “fill out”.

‘I get even more hot for you when you’re not wearing anything.’

She felt the burning in her cheeks get hotter, and she tried hiding her embarrassment by checking her hair in her bedroom mirror. ‘Sshush. Somebody might hear.’

‘Your parents are on holiday.’ Dan flopped back onto his back. ‘Nobody’s gonna hear anything.’

‘I know but…I’m paranoid.’ She ran a brush through her hair, before twisting a band around her wrist and putting it into a pony tail. Chloe had always found her hair flat, brown and bang average. She’d thought about bleaching it in the past, getting highlights or getting it cut into an actual style rather than leaving it straight and boring. But Dan told her he liked her hair natural, so all a trip to the hairdressers meant was getting the split ends cut.

Although she had also noticed he didn’t make the same claims about liking her natural when she put her make up on. He would happily watch as she slapped on foundation, concealer and didn’t complain when she took to wearing false lashes. The cynical, insecure part of Chloe automatically thought that it meant Dan really thought she was fuck-ugly underneath it.

She thought she was OK-looking, not hot. Her best feature was easily her large, dark blue eyes, but she hated her long, straight nose which kids at school had compared to a beak. There was a time when if self-hate had been an Olympic sport, Chloe would have won gold. But she gradually began to warm to her looks as she got older. Dan definitely helped her.

During her last crisis of confidence, as he put it: “If I thought you were ugly then I wouldn’t put my cock in you”. It was crude, and sorta cringe, but he had a point.

‘So are you coming back round tonight?’

‘If your parents aren’t here, then of course.’ She saw his leer in the mirror.

Chole found herself supressing a dirty smile as she picked out some earrings for the day. Her large, protruding ears which she always said made her look like Dobby from Harry Potter were something she’d grown more comfortable with over the years as well. Just as well make a feature of it! She had piercings going from the bottom of her earlobe to the upper part of it, always having at least three sets of stud earrings in.

‘OK,’ she turned to face him. ‘But you have to make me dinner first.’

‘Deal.’

‘Take the spare set of keys and let yourself in.’ She’d almost forgotten – name tag. She clipped it onto the blue polo top. The name badge had a picture of a butterfly on it. They were all given the chance to choose a picture to go on their badges, from a selection of random stuff from guitars to London buses. ‘OK, I gotta go before I’m late. Love you, byyye.’ She had a heavy amount of sarcasm in her voice when she said “love you, byyye”, as if they were play acting as couples. Which in a way, they were, living in separate houses.

The fresh-cotton smell of the Yankee Candle air freshener greeted Chloe as she got into her little VW. Backing out of the driveway, she caught the news headlines on the radio. The normal depressing stuff about missile strikes, stabbings and scandals no doubt. Chloe went to turn the volume down, but what the presenter said caught her attention: “The Metropolitan Police are urging anybody with information in relation to an incident where a woman’s head was shaved in her flat in Hackney, London. An intruder reportedly shaved the hair off the woman, who is in her twenties, before taking photographs and leaving the scene. It’s comes after a 20-year-old student had her shaved in identical circumstances last week…”

She felt an involuntary sparkle across all the nerve endings in her body. Something about getting her hair shaved off, especially against her will frightened her. Weirdly, it frightened her more than if it was a murderer doing the rounds.

‘Great,’ she said aloud, ‘Another weirdo on the loose.’

What would it be like to become involuntary bald like that? She didn’t want to dwell on it, but she couldn’t help wonder. Going bald through illness or whatever, that would be bad enough. But having all your hair shaved off just because somebody thought it would be fun? That was worse, somehow. She pictured herself bald. It was more of an intrusive thought which she squashed down as much as she could, but she didn’t like it. She would look gross. Everything she hated about herself in sharper focus.

As she stopped for the lights at the end of her road, her mind continued its stroll down avenues she really would rather it didn’t stroll down.

Why do that? Was he getting off to it? He had to be.

That disturbed her in a way she couldn’t put into words.

But anyway, he was working in London (if working was the right word for it), well over an hour away. Her and her friends were probably safe. She mentally put the issue away somewhere, and turned the radio up when Hozier came on.

Daniel wasn’t in a hurry to leave the house. Chloe’s parents had a much nicer house than his did. They said the food in the house had to be eaten, or it would go off. It would be rude not to, so he took a bowl of sugary cereal, and coffee from the bean-to-cup machine into the lounge and turned the TV on. The TV was a lot nicer than the one at home too. One of those OLED ones, and Chloe said it cost more than her car. He wasn’t sure how to work it, worried that somehow he would break it.

Spooning a mouthful of cereal down, he watched UK News as there wasn’t much choice. He remembered Chloe moaning about how they had it on constantly.

On screen, a newsreader was interviewing a grey-haired man with wire framed glasses, who wore the kind of shirt and tie his old headmaster wore.

‘…While he has undressed his victims, we have seen no actual, bodily sexual assault from the perpetrator of these acts, but it remains highly likely he is getting a sexual thrill from doing this.’

‘As a psychologist, Dr, what sort of person are they likely to be?’ The newsreader asked casually, as if it was something that could be answered easily, on a trashy news show.

Dan guessed they were talking about the head shaving attacks. People were going mad over it.

As an uncomfortable few moments of silent airtime passed, the old Doctor guy considered it. ‘I’m not a profiler, Jasmine, so please take what I say with a healthy dose of skepticism. But I would say he is likely obsessed with order and control. It’s also highly likely that he is not secure about his own appearance.’

The news anchor nodded sagely, like they were trying to appear intellectual. ‘So do you think that he is doing this to make women look less attractive?’ he then added quickly, ‘In his own eyes of course.’

‘Without a doubt. This is about taking something away from his victims.’

He couldn’t help it. Dan pictured Chloe, the girl he was going to propose to this year, tied to a chair naked with her head shaved.

At first, he felt a bit sick. She would be near unrecognisable. And not to mention inconsolable and embarrassed. It took her six months to be OK getting naked in front of him.

But (and this made him feel even more sick) he felt a tingle in his cock. Some fucked up part of him found it arousing. The feeling took him by surprise, and it ebbed away as quickly as it washed over him.

Dan turned the TV off, and finished his breakfast in silence, trying to imagine anything but naked, bald Chloe.

*

Chloe worked the customer service desk, right in front of the newsstand. She was close enough to be able to read the front pages. The redtop tabloids all carried headlines about who they were now calling “The Savage Shaver”.

“Savage Shaver Claims Another Head of Hair” said The Sun.

 

“Is The Savage Shaving Coming for YOUR hair?” screamed the Daily Star.

 

The Daily Mail was enraged because The Savage Shaver might be an immigrant, and The Times had shoe-horned a story about him onto lower part of the front page. “Were Police failings behind a second head-shaving attack?”.

The Savage Shaver was one of those nick names which seemed to come from nowhere. Chloe had been seeing chatter around social media about The Savage Shaver. While there was a lull in work, she opened her phone and laid it down behind the counter, away from customer and management eyes. Normally, there would be somebody with her on the service desk, but both of the other customer service girls had gone sick. “Summer-itus” her manager had cynically called it.

Hot bread and herby smells were being piped in from the bakery, making her hungry. Seeing Dan check her out this morning had made her low-key horny and her ability to focus was getting worse by the second.

She logged into Facebook, and posts about The Savage Shaver were flooding her feed. One of her more twisted friends had even posted a meme about The Savage Shaver, with the image of that weird cartoon character, Freaky Fred and the caption saying “This is what’s coming for your daughter!”

‘Jesus Christ, what is wrong with people?’ Chloe muttered to herself, shaking her head.

Another post shared from one of her more normal friends showed a picture of a bobble hat: “The Savage Shaver is clearly attracted to hair. Cover it with a hat to make yourself as unattractive to him as possible”

Yeah, in the middle of Summer. No. The chances of it actually happening to her, or anybody she knew must have been tiny.

She checked out BBC news. The top story: “Police release footage of “Savage Shaver”. A grainy image of a man dressed head to toe in black, with a balaclava and a ski mask.

To Chloe, it looked like some sad Call of Duty cosplay.

‘Excuse me.’ A shrill voice made her jolt back into reality. ‘I need to return something.’ An older woman with a “Karen” haircut stood in front of her. On the desk she dropped a box for a non-brand clock radio. ‘Doesn’t work.’

Chloe did something she had mastered during her 18 months in this job: the silent sigh.

‘Good morning.’ She said with false cheerfulness. ‘Did you buy it from this store?’

‘’Course I did. Not stupid, am I?’

‘OK,’ Chloe turned the box around and noticed that she’d managed to tear it. ‘Do you have the receipt?’

‘Don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, do I look like I’d steal a bloody clock radio? No, I don’t, never got no receipt so ‘ow am I meant to bring one in?’

Behind the Karen, Chloe saw a man appear. 40s at a guess, tall, creased shirt paired with a scruffy moustache and stubble. It was hard to know if the look was ironic or not.

Chloe persisted with the clock radio. ‘OK, so what’s the problem with it?’

The woman made a strange wheezing sound, the kind heavy smokers make before they laugh. ‘I’ve already told you! It don’t work!’

‘How isn’t it working?’

‘How? Well it’s not bloody turning on for a start. I don’t believe this. You sell me this load of shit – sorry, excuse my swearing, I’m not a swearer,’ she turned to the man behind her. ‘But this is what you’re doing to me,’ he attention was back on Chloe. ‘You sell me a load of shit, and you won’t let me take it back.’

The man behind her started to rock on his heels, and Chloe saw him mouth “for fuck’s sake” at nobody in particular.

‘I’ll take it out and have a look, and then we can-’

‘Why?’ the woman rasped. ‘Just take it back and give me my money back. Then I’m gone, ain’t I?’

They’d been bulletins going around lately about people stealing things then returning them to the shops without the receipt, and getting cash for things they never bought, but obviously she wasn’t going to say that.

‘I’ve got a problem with the cash point.’ The man spoke aloud for the first time. ‘You need to help me.’

Chloe bit the tip of her tongue before replying. ‘I will serve this lady first, then I’ll be with you sir.’

‘You’ve been serving her the whole time I’ve been in here. Your cash machine has eaten my card. Help. Please.’

‘Right after I have served this lady, then I’ll be with you.’

He mouthed something again. Chloe was convinced that there was a “fucking” in it.

To the woman, who she had privately named “clock bitch” she said, in a voice of strained kindness: ‘I’m going to call a manager over, and they can sanction a refund.’ She made a show of creasing her nose and smiling overly sweetly. ‘Is that ok?’

It seemed to placate Clock Bitch. ‘Right. Fine.’ She lifted it off the counter and hobbled over in the direction of the chairs under the payphones, as Chloe spoke into the intercom: ‘Martin to customer services, that’s Martin to customer services, please.

‘…Sir?’ Chloe kept the same false smile pasted onto her face when she moved onto Cash Point Guy.

‘Finally. Jeez. Your ATM has just lunched my –’

‘Your bank card. I know. If you’d like to wait I’ll go and see if I can get it back for you.’

Access for the internals of the cash machines was only really meant to be done by certain people, but Chloe had seen it done enough times to know how to do it. Plus, with management on the way, she didn’t want the moaning old twat complaining about her.

Using a set of keys kept in a wall safe, she opened up the internals. The guts of the ATM swung out, and in less than 30 seconds she had his card. For some reason she felt compelled to read the name on it: MR RYAN CROWTHER.

Even had a dickhead name.

He was kicking around the newsstand when she emerged with it. ‘Sir. Your card.’ Chloe all but threw it on the desk.

Ryan Crowther came up to her and took it. ‘Thank you, young lady. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?’

Something about the way he said “young lady” put her on edge. She watched him walk out of the store, making sure he had defiantly left.

*

Ryan sat in the supermarket car park, windows down to drive some of the heat out. It wasn’t even 11am and it was getting too hot.

On the passenger seat, he had a collection of newspapers. He picked up the Daily Mail and read the front page.

DID WE LET SICK “SAVAGE SHAVER” IN?

Speculation is mounting over the background of the so-called Savage Shaver. So far descriptions from his victims all point him having a background outside of the UK.

 

‘What a load of bollocks.’ Ryan said aloud. All they had to go on was his voice, and maybe the small flash of skin through his uniform. Just because he was black, he was an illegal? Racist bastards, he thought. He was born and bread is Plaistow. And he was meant to be the morally corrupt one!

OnlyThe Sun had done a decent job, actually getting most of the details right.

But what had really pissed him off was that little cow in the customer service desk.

Who was she to talk to him like that, and fob him off? Maybe the old Ryan would have put up with that shit, but not the new Ryan.

Don’t get mad, get even. He thought.

Her name tag, with the silly little blue butterfly, had been burned into his memory.

For being rude to him, did Chloe deserve her hair? Probably not.

When he found the next person to shave, he just knew.

‘Oh dear, Chloe…What a mistake you’ve just made.’

There was no need to even leave the car park. He opened his phone and got to work.

Chapter 2

It was nearly seven by the time Chloe got home. The drive back had made her uniform stick to her with sweat.

Opening the door with one hand, and texting Dan with the other she asked him if he was still coming round.

God, it was boiling. In the kitchen she took off the polo, kicked off her shoes then peeled the horrible black trousers off before kicking them in the general direction of the washing machine.

Scampering upstairs in her underwear, her phone pinged.

Dan.

“Yeh. Be round in like half an hour”

In Dan-speak that meant at least an hour, so she had time to unwind. She turned on the walk-in shower and let it warm up a little while she put her shower cap on, then tossed her bra and knickers onto the floor.

Running her hand up her legs she decided she could get away without shaving.

The day washed off her, she went into her bedroom wrapped in a towel, throwing off the cap as she walked. She picked out some fresh pants and an outfit she thought Dan would like.

Chloe went with some denim short-shorts and the lacy black crop top which cost about eight quid but Dan seemed to love.

Standing in front of the mirror, she pondered on whether to go hair down, or pony tail. Fuck it, it was hot. Pony tail.

She took a moment to breath. Today left her feeling drained and greasy. Having a shower had only half-helped. The missing piece of the jigsaw would be a drink.

‘I’m having a cider. Fuck it.’

Padding bare footed over the deep pile carpet, she stopped halfway down the stairs. A noise.

Bang. Click, click, clack.

The hot rush of fear she’d felt died down half a second later. Dan. She’d given him a key. Here on time, actually being punctual. She was impressed. No. She smiled. Actually being horny, more like it. Why else would he arrive early?

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard the sound of water running. The clicking she’d heard had been the washing machine being turned on. That boy really was eager to please.

‘Who taught you how to use the washing machine?’ she walked into the kitchen and saw her uniform sloshing around inside.

‘Nobody. Got one of those Hotpoint jobs at home. I put a couple of ciders in the fridge for you, as well. Do you want one, young lady?’

Chloe saw who the voice had come from. She screamed.

Dan was unlocking his car when Chloe’s text arrived.

Chloe:

Hi look sorry I am so so super tired I don’t think I want you to come round tonight.

Dan:

Why? Everything OK?

Chloe:

Just a totally super shitty day at work!!

Dan:

Sure you don’t want me to just come round and chill with you?

Something was off. She wasn’t texting like she would normally, well…Not quite. It was like she was taking the piss out of herself. Then again Chloe was like that. Sometimes it was hard to know if she was just being self-deprecating or genuinely having one of her days when she thought she was the most disgusting, stupidest, hopeless thing to walk the earth.

A text pinged back.

Chloe:

Thanks but I’m good.

Then another.

Chloe:

If you get yourself inside we can have fun on facetime 😉

It would never be as good as the real thing but that made Dan smile. And at least he could see if she was genuinely OK or not.

Dan:

OK…Intrigued now.

He locked his car and went back inside.

Chloe was controlling her breathing. Her therapist had given her some techniques to try if she thought she was about to have an anxiety attack. This was a full on anxiety assault.

Her arms were cabled tied to her back, and her ankles around the legs of the rose gold Ikea chair which was normally in front of her dressing table.

The whole thing had happened so quickly. She’d ran for the door but he had caught her, and lifted her up clean off her feet.

Chloe had screamed and kicked all the way up the stairs, even biting him. But his thick leather gloves meant he didn’t even flinch.

He sat on the edge of her bed texting on her phone. When she didn’t give him the passcode, he’d just said. ‘OK, fine.’ And pressed her thumb against the screen to unlock it.

‘Imagine how difficult that would have been in the days before finger print ID, hey?’

The Savage Shaver spoke in a cocky, almost Cockney accent. It was the same voice she had heard earlier. Card Machine Guy.

‘I know who you are.’ She said as bravely as she could.

‘Oh yeah,’ she could swear she could sense him raise an eyebrow from behind his ski mask. ‘And who’s that?’

‘Ryan Crowther. I saw your name on your bank card. I know who you are.’ She felt a flutter in her chest. She was playing a very big gamble.

‘No idea who that is, love. Sounds like a top guy, though, I’d like to meet him.’

It felt like a dream, and in that moment Chloe was numb. It simply didn’t seem real.

He was silent, staring at her phone screen.

‘If you try and do to me what you did to those other girls…I swear, I will scream, I will yell. The whole fucking street will hear me.’

The Savage Shaver tilted his head up from the screen. ‘Oh, do behave! Nobody can here you, if they could they’d have bleedin’ SWAT team around the house by now with the racket you made on the way up here.

Chloe felt her heart sink. He was right.

‘And anyway,’ The Savage Shaver continued. ‘You’re in a detached house – all very nice, by the way – your neighbours on that side,’ he pointed towards her, ‘Are blind mad and deaf. Pushing 90 the old man is, isn’t he? And the others,’ he jabbed his thumb at the wall behind, ‘Are on a cruise.’

She dropped the bravado. ‘How the fuck do you know that?’

He tapped the side of his head. ‘I do my research, don’t I? All I’ll say is, don’t put where you work on Facebook because it made you very easy to find. And as for posting a picture of your bloody car online. It’s like you want me to shave you.’

Chloe really didn’t want him to do, but she suspected telling him so would be a very bad idea.

‘And your little boyfriend isn’t coming to save you, either.’

Feeling tears for the first time, Chloe swallowed back a lump in her throat. What the heck would he think of her bald?

He was texting something again.

‘Why me? Out of all the girls you could chose?’

‘Well, why not you? Just got lucky, that’s all. What are the chances, huh? Right place, right time. Must be like one in a million.’ He made a dry laugh. ‘You should buy a lottery ticket when we’re done.’

‘So are you here to…’ she swallowed. ‘Shave me?’

‘No, I thought I’d pop in for a cup of tea. Of course I’m here to shave you. Want me to get done for false advertising?’

‘Please, just go now. Find anyone. Literally anyone else. I won’t tell a soul, I promise you. I’ll even help you find other girls to shave.’

‘Bollocks you will. All that will happen is that I don’t get the goods, but I still risk you running to five-oh, flapping your gums? I don’t think so, young lady.’

‘My Dad is coming home in a few minutes.’ She tried her best to sound like she meant it.

‘Oh really, is he? That’s bollocks. I happen to know that they’re living it up in the South of France right now. Alright for some. Ain’t you ever been told not to lie to a mad person?’ he went back to texting. ‘That’s one thing I picked up when I was inside.’ The Savage Shaver said thoughtfully, putting the phone down. ‘If they know you’re mental, unstable or whatever, they don’t lie to you. Like the shrinks, they always tell you the truth even if they know you won’t like it.’

‘Are you like an escaped prisoner?’

‘Escaped? Nah, love.’ There was a trace of indignation in his voice. ‘I didn’t escape. I did my time. Saw it through didn’t I? Mind you, they didn’t call it prison. Called it a secure ward. But this isn’t about me, and we’re wasting our precious time together.’

Maybe that could save her? Keep him talking until somebody noticed something was wrong. He had to have smashed a window, or broken a door. If he had, somebody would notice.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Ask away.’

‘Why do you like shaving girls’ heads so much?’

‘I dunno, it’s just something that does it for me. I went through all this with the shrinks back when I was inside. Now, I’ve gotta crack on.’

He got off the bed and unzipped a black rucksack. Oh fuck, what was going to be in there? It was then that she realised her knees were bobbing up and down uncontrollably, and from her shoulders to her toes, she was shaking. She tried stopping it, but that only made the shaking worse.

‘Alright?’

‘I’m scared. I can’t help it.’

‘I understand.’

Her mouth was dry. ‘Are you going to…’ She had to force the word out. ‘Rape me?’

‘I’m not a rapist. Never have been, never will be. That’s not my bag. So don’t worry about that.’

‘You literally just want to shave my head?’

‘Yup.’

‘But…but…’

‘But, but, but, blah, blah, blah, yak, yak, yak, cry, cry, cry.’ he said in a mocking, girlish voice. ‘You’re not the first, and you’re not going to be the last. So suck it up.’

She sat up a little straighter. She knew he wanted her to be upset, so she tried not to show it. ‘I just want to know why.’ He remembered what he said about not lying. ‘It’s weird…Why make a girl look like crap?’

He made a noise between a snort and a laugh, unpacking a hair clipper with the wire coiled around it. ‘Have you got a fetish?’ The Savage Shaver held out a gloved palm. ‘It’s OK, you don’t have to tell me what it is, but have you?’

‘I have a few fetishes.’ she mumbled.

‘A few? You kinky little cow! But why do you have them? You don’t know why, do you?’

Chloe shook her head.

‘Well,’ The Savage Shaver up ended his back pack, looking like he was trying to shake the contents out. ‘It’s just the same for me. I just have a thing for shaving girls heads. I dunno why, but it gets me off.’

‘And it doesn’t make you feel guilty or anything?’

‘Guilty?’ The Savage Shaver seemed amused by the suggestion. ‘Yeah, I used to. But you think of those sick fucks about, nonces, rapists, men who break into your Grandma’s and fuck her. They’re the real bad guys. Me? I’m not so bad.’

‘Not so bad?’ Chloe said. ‘You broke into my house, and you’re going to shave my head, how does that make you a good person?’

‘Never said anything about being good now did I? Now stop giving me lip, and shut up.’

Chloe:

OK, I want you to get comfy and get a drink. I want to give you a sexy striptease 😉

There was something not quite right, Dan could sense. Chloe had never done anything like this before…He would feel better when he saw her on camera.

But on the other hand, he was ragingly horny, giving himself blue balls all day to save himself for tonight.

Dan:

OK, tell me when you’re ready. I’m really horny ngl.

Chloe:

Are you comfy and have you got a drink?

Dan got up and double checked his door was locked. He didn’t want family spoiling an intimate moment, then he took a pull from the can of beer.

Dan:

Yh. Ready.

Back in her bedroom, The Savage Shaver had laid out all of his tools. The sight of the clippers, the pack of razors, the scissors and the shaving cream laid out on her bed was giving her a greasy sick feeling.

The last thing he got out was a little tripod for a phone which he set up on the bed.

‘One last thing. Do you have a plug socket in here, my darling?’ The way he said it was almost obscenely polite.

What was the point in not telling him? He would find it anyway. ‘Behind me. Next to the cupboard doors.’

‘Ta muchly,’ he started to hum as he plugged the cord to the clippers in. Next, he slotted her phone into the tripod.

She knew he took pictures, and the thought of him having pictures of…she couldn’t bear to think about what was actually coming…her haircut, made her want to vomit.

But why was he setting up her phone?

He crouched down by the bed and began tapping something out on the screen.

Chloe had to swallow before she could speak. ‘Can I ask what you’re doing?’ That came out as overly stiff and polite. But how else was she meant to act?

He raised a finger for silence.

Chloe had gone quiet on him, and Dan was getting worried. Was something up? He felt nervous and he didn’t really know why.

Ping

Chloe:

Are you ready you naughty boy? Nobody going to disturb you?

Dan:

No, I’m ready.

He had a call come in on Facetime. With one last pull of his beer, he accepted it.

‘What the…? Chloe?’

She was tied to her chair, legs spread. Her eyes were wide, wider than normal and wearing his favourite outfit on her.

Was this some weird roleplay thing? But she’d never been into weird roleplay stuff.

Her chin began to wobble. ‘Dan…Its him.’ Chloe’s voice was changing into a thin squeak. ‘He’s going to shave my head.’

Dan felt like somebody had just impaled him on a spike of ice. Bile rose in his throat, and a hot acidic taste took over his mouth. ‘Oh my god. Oh, my fuck!’

His insides were folding in on him. He suddenly felt stupid and icky for feeling mildly aroused by the thought of her getting shaved, while he lounged in her house in his pyjamas.

A man wearing black, with a black balaclava and a black ski mask stuck his frame into shot. He looked like a cross between Batman and Deadpool.

Making a little wave which was verging on the camp, he introduced himself. ‘Hello Danny Boy. Savage Shaver here, I won’t keep you from your lady friend for long.’

His heart was pumping loud enough for him to hear his pulse in his ears.

‘Don’t you fucking touch Chloe you psycho!’ As he heard is voice he knew he sounded weak.

‘Don’t you fucking touch Chloe you psycho!’ The Savage Shaver parroted back in an effeminate voice. He walked behind Chloe. As she flinched, he put his hands on the back of her chair and leaned forwards. ‘Psycho. People always call me that. One day somebody will come up with something creative. Anyway, I’m no psychopath. I’m a sociopath. Learn the difference, please.’

‘I’m calling the police, right now.’ Dan sat up, sending cold beer glugging out of the can, over his bed sheets.

‘Go on then, chop, chop. Bet I’ll have little Chloe here bald as a coot before we even hear the sirens.’

She started to cry, her sobs shrill on the phone’s speakers. He rushed to turn the volume down. ‘I’m still doing it. You deserve to rot in fucking jail! Sick cunt!’

‘I’m a sick cunt, now am I? Well, there’s a bit more gutso behind that insult, I’ll let you have that one, sunshine. But if I were you, I’d hold off. For your own good. Now just hear me out.’

The cold icy feeling Dan had felt flooded his body again. ‘What? You threatening me?’ he swallowed, feeling like he was gulping down wet cement.

‘I am, Danny Boy, I am.’ He stepped away from the chair, and Chloe seemed to relax a tiny bit. ‘If you grass me up, how about I grass you up?’

‘Grass me up for what?’ Dan spit the words out.

‘I had a good look on your internet search history. Tut, tut, tut.’ He shook his head like a disappointed teacher.

Dan felt his scalp prickle.

The Savage Shaver continued. ‘Don’t take the moral high ground, mate. You’ve got a fare way to fall yourself. I don’t think your parents would like it if I send them your search history. Do you?’

Dan felt queasy at the thought of them knowing what he looked up when they thought he was really playing Fifa. ‘How do you know that? You’re bluffing.’

‘I’m The Savage Shaver mate. I do my research, and I’m bloody good at it. I could show Chloe your Pornhub searches? Surprised Pornhub allow it some of that shit. You’ve got issues my son.’ He looked down at Chloe. ‘The boy needs help, I tell you.’

She looked directly into the lens. ‘Dan…What have you…Is he being serious?’

Feeling himself break into a sweat, Dan was struggling to get his words out. Some of his kinks were a bit…Niche? ‘Yeah…no, I mean…I guess.’

‘Oh my Gooood!’ her voice was dry and strained. ‘You’re some kind of sicko. Please don’t be a nonce or something.’ She closed her eyes briefly, and muttered something.

‘Chloe! Chloe! No! Nothing like that!’ he tried to keep his voice down.

‘Then call the Police!’ She moved, like she was trying to break free of her restraints. ‘Whatever it is, I don’t care. Dan, just do it! Please!’ she was getting hysterical. He’d never seen her like this, not even during an anxiety attack.

He felt himself freeze. He didn’t know what to do. If his parents found out, in the very least they would probably stop his allowance.

What seemed like hundreds of calculations ran through his head at once. No allowance. No car insurance. The job search was off. No money. No friends. No life.

‘I…Chloe, I’m sorry.’

‘Dan, please, don’t let this happen to meeeee.’ She was drawing her words out and rolling them into one, in the same way a kid does when they’re upset or pleading for something. ‘Please!’

‘Either way, your little girlfriend is getting shaved.’ The Savage Shaver threw his hands in the air, suddenly theatrical. ‘Alas!’ He gently touched Chloe’s arm. ‘Don’t worry pumpkin, he’ll still love you…Probably.’ He turned to look at Dan directly through the lens. ‘You know it makes sense. Now sit and enjoy the show.’

Chloe’s face crumped, and broke out in long, bitter sobs.

Helpless, Dan watched as The Savage Shaver cut down the middle of her top with scissors. Chloe, the girl he was going to propose to, clenched her jaw at the sccccchnap scccccchnap of the scissors on the fabric. He was efficient and almost business like as he put the ruined top on the floor and went straight to snipped off her bra. Dan felt a weird mix on anger and arousal as her little boobs jiggled when he whipped away the cups. Anger at The Savage Shaver for doing that to his girl, and arousal for seeing Chloe’s milky white tits.

His view of them was blocked as the man in black kneeled in front of her, he was saying something quietly to her, and Dan struggled to understand.

‘Tell you what –‘ he was pulling her shorts down, ‘I’ll make you a deal right. You behave yourself and don’t give me any lip – you can keep your knickers on. Sound good?’ He tugged the shorts down as far as her ankles and got up.

Chloe was silent, eyes shut.

‘…Don’t you ignore me. You can’t ghost somebody if they’re right in front of you. Deal?’

She whispered, her chest rising and falling quickly. ‘Yes.’

‘Wonderful.’ He picked up some scissors, and stood behind her. ‘What is it with you and butterflies, anyway? Butterflies on your name tag, and on your knickers.’

She sniffed. ‘I just like them.’ She managed to say. Chloe was crying again, grizzling and sniffling. ‘Daaaan! Stop him, just do something, please.’

He felt his cock stiffening at the sight of her near naked and tied up. He hated himself for that.

‘Chloe…’ he swallowed. ‘I can’t.’

‘You not gonna try?’ The Savage Shaver was holding her pony tail. ‘Not gonna come bursting through the door to rescue her?’

What was he meant to say to that? The Savage Shaver would just shave and humiliate her anyway while he tried to get there in time. And what the fuck would this loon do to him?

‘I’m afraid Chloe, there’s no knight on his white charger coming for you.’

Chloe’s entire body was shaking. The Savage Shaver was gripping her pony tail, hard. She felt her head tilt back a little, then some of the tension in her pony tail give as the scissors started to hack away at it.

The needling her about the butterfly stuff had stung.

After therapy, where she had finally become comfortable with herself, accepted herself and began to like herself for the first time ever, she began to think of herself as a butterfly.

She’d gone through some changes, and emerged from it all, beautiful and proud (most of the time).

That was why she chose the butterfly as the thing to go on her name tag. It was why she had butterfly knickers, and a little tattoo of one on the back of her right wrist.

Now she was about to get her wings pulled off.

The Savage Shaver was humming. The sick bastard was humming as he cut off her hair.

Feeling her head get lighter and lighter, the snipping got faster as the pony tail got thinner.

Scchnap!

It was severed from her head.

He chucked it onto her lap, and the soft silky hair tickled her inner thighs.

Chloe felt a lump in her throat. Did he have any idea how long that would take to grow back?

‘Right,’ The savage shaver picked up his clippers. ‘Let’s not fuck about.’

The buzzing was low and loud. She craned her neck to look up at him, hoping to see some compassion or empathy behind the ski mask. Instead, she saw her own reflection, with her fucked up hair.

Chloe made a last-ditch attempt to save her hair. ‘You have no idea how much this will fuck me up. Please?’

‘Should have thought about that before you were rude to your customers, earlier.’

‘I didn’t think I was rude. I’ll be more polite in future,’ she felt like had found a thread, so pulled at it. ‘I honestly didn’t think I was being rude, but I’ve learned my lesson now,’ she had to raise her voice over the buzzing of the clippers. ‘I’m sorry.’

The Savage Shaver was still, and for just a moment, she wondered if she’d made him think twice.

Chloe took his silence as an invitation to carry on. ‘I’ve been through a lot, I’ve tried really hard to be a better person.’ She felt a sort of hot pressure behind her eyes. Holding back more tears was getting more and more difficult. ‘If you knew me, you might like me, I dunno.’

‘Hmmm.’ He put one finger on his chin, while the clippers buzzed away. ‘Nope. Too little too late.’

She couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. The damn burst, her throat closed up and she cried like she hadn’t done in all of her adult life. ‘This is…’ she paused to blub. ‘…So fucked up. Please –’ she couldn’t stop two more loud, childish sobs, ‘Is there nothing else you want? Nothing I can do?’ she wanted to wipe her tears off her cheeks, but her wrists were still tied up. Fuck knows what her make up looked like now.

‘No. There isn’t.’ he almost sounded apologetic.

‘Come on, there must be.’ She said desperately. Chloe hated herself for what she was about to say, and when she said it, it came out timid and weak. ‘I could give you a blowjob?’

Dan’s voice squaked from the phone. ‘Chloe, don’t do that. Chloe please don’t –’

The Savage Shaver spoke over him. ‘You think I’d go through all of this for a poxy blowjob? Although I didn’t have you down as a slutty type.’

‘I’m not, I…’ her voice trailed off.

‘Come on. Let’s get this over with.’

Dan watched as Chloe cried uncontrollably, the clippers grinding down the centre of her head, leaving a white path.

It was horrible, like watching your house burn down or your car get crushed.

‘Chloe…’ he mouthed. Then aloud, ‘Chloe, I’m sorry!’

She hadn’t heard him, and The Savage Shaver was making another white path on her head. Some of the hair landed on her shoulders and stayed there, and some strands slid down her tits.

Most of it ended up on the floor.

When she spoke again she was breathless. ‘Fuck you Dan, I hate you!’

‘Chloe, I’m so sorry!’

‘You could have stopped this,’ she was full on ugly crying, black tears from her mascara running down her cheeks, ‘You could have stopped this, and you didn’t!’

The top of her head was completely shaved, and he started on the left side of her head, exposing one of her big Dobby ears. The stud earrings caught the light and twinkled as The Savage Shaver worked away at her. He pushed her head forwards and began working on the back of her head in slow, laboured strokes of the clippers.

Chloe had calmed down a bit and was making meek sniffling sounds. He told her to lift her head up, then took the remaining hair on the other side of her head.

Her eyes were red, rimmed with wet mascara as he exposed the other ear.

Without her hair, they looked bigger and lower.

But she was still his Chloe. If she decided they weren’t over after this, he would tell her she was still beautiful. Even if…He had a hard time convincing herself that he liked what he saw.

The Savage Shaver stood back, as if to admire is work. ‘I haven’t done a bad job, really have I?’

She glared at him.

On the screen of his phone, Dan could see the light catching her watery eyes.

‘Got to finish the job though. A bit of commitment, your generation would do well to learn that.’ He laughed, left the frame.

Dan could hear his footsteps as he left the room. He felt like he should say something, but what was he meant to say? What were you meant to say after your girlfriend had been stripped and head her head shaved by some headcase? It was Chloe who broke the silence:

‘Dan…I’m sorry.’ She sniffed.

‘Chloe,’ he brought the phone closer to his face. ‘Can you hear me?’

Another sniff. ‘Yeah. I can hear you.’

‘I’m sorry for what I said,’ a swallow. ‘I didn’t mean to accuse you of…’

‘No, it’s cool. Really it is,’ he rushed his words, trying to get it all out before The Savage Shaver returned. ‘Don’t worry about it, OK. Let’s just get through this.’

‘We’ve all got…Our weird stuff. It’s OK, you don’t have to tell me what you look up.’

‘If you want to I will –’

‘No, it’s fine.’ She looked worried, and flicked her eyes towards where Dan guessed her bedroom door would be.

‘What is it?’ Dan heard the urgency in his own voice.

‘Water.’ She whispered. ‘I can hear water. What’s he going to do?’

‘I guess he’s going to,’ he hesitated. Talking about it in such a casual way felt strange. ‘Wet shave you.’

‘Wet shave me! What’s that?’ Fear crept back into her voice.

‘Just like what you do with your legs…On your head.’

She creased her nose in disgust. ‘Ugh. No.’ Chloe looked as if she might cry again. ‘I’m going to have a shiny head?’

‘Damn right you will.’ The Savage Shaver’s voice. ‘Nice to hear you and your guy having a good old chin wag.’

He stepped back into the frame holding a dripping towel.

‘What’s that?’ Chloe shyed away from the towel in his hands.

‘A wet towel. What do you think you dozy bint?’

She gritted her teeth as he wrapped it around her head. It was hot, uncomfortable so. Droplets of water ran down her back, finding her crack, sliding into her knickers, and down her shoulders and her tits.

‘This is so weird.’

‘Weird is my stock in trade, my darling.’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Softening your stubble. Gives a closer shave, and it’s more comfortable for you. Everyone’s a winnah!’

‘Great.’ She mumbled.

After a few minutes, he peeled off the towel, and chucked it on her bedroom carpet.

When he smeared on the shaving cream, it was a shock. It felt icy cold after the towel.

But the real shock was the razor. It pulled and tugged on her scalp.

Chloe couldn’t help but pull a face.

‘You’re not enjoying this are you?’ She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was smirking.

‘Of course I’m fucking not.’

‘Now, now. What did a say about giving me lip? Don’t want those pretty little knickers to go as well do you?’

‘No, I’m sorry.’ She said quickly, feeling like somebody who suddenly remembered her place.

The scraping and pulling continued, and when he was finished her head felt not just exposed, but laid bare. Like all of her faults and insecurities were out in the open with it.

It tingled and burned, and Chloe was aware of the air touching it.

He stood in front of her, rubbing his gloved hands together. ‘Now. Ready for the best bit?’

Her heart sank. ‘Oh Christ. What’s the best bit…Please, don’t…touch me.’

‘Accusing me of that shit again are we, right off the bat? Calm your little a-cup tits.’ Again, he was rummaging in her bag. ‘I shall do nothing of the sort.’

‘If your hurt her!’ Dan’s voice squawked from the phone.

The Savage Shaver dismissed him with a wave of his hand. He pulled out a handheld salon mirror from the bag.

So this was the best bit for him?

Chloe felt a knot of dread inside her. ‘You’re going to make me look?’

‘Gotta look at some point, love. Just as well get it over with.’ He crouched down, the mirror’s back facing her.

She sighed, closed her eyes and braced herself. I’m going to look disgusting. ‘Go on.’

Chloe opened her eyes and saw a weird hairless thing looking back at her. Those ears she thought were cute before were grotesque and exaggerated. The earrings had the same effect as putting lipstick on a pig.

Her forehead looked massive, her nose looked massive. Her head was blotchy and red in places, but she could tell her scalp was going to be the same colour as a dinner plate when it wasn’t so raw.

Her makeup was ruined thorough crying. Just as Chloe thought it wasn’t possible to cry anymore, she could see her lip start to tremble.

When she started to squinny like a little girl, he took the mirror away.

All that work in therapy was for nothing. How could she feel good about that, she thought, as she looked in the mirror. Chloe felt like she had been exposed for what she really was – while her boyfriend watched on his phone screen.

She had to gasp for air, she’d been crying so much.

‘Wow, don’t think I’ve ever had anyone react quite like that. Impressive.’ He stood with his hands on his hips.

‘It’s –’ Chloe took another gulp of air, and supress her tears for a moment, ‘Nothing to be proud of.’

‘Maybe not for you. Now let’s do something about your ruined make up.’ She was standing by her dressing table, going through the drawers. ‘If you’re hiding a massive fuck-off dildo in here, now’s the time to tell me.’

‘I’m not. What are you looking for you?’

‘Make up wipes.’

‘Top drawer. On the left.’ She mumbled, sniffing. ‘I need to blow my nose. Please?’

The Savage Shaver cut her right hand free, and handed her a wipe which she blew her nose into.

Afterwards, she brushed the sad locks of brown hair off her lap and watched it make a pile on the floor.

Then, Chloe was flinching as he scrubbed her face with the moist make-up wipe. He was careful to get every last trace off. Even when she was convinced he got all of it off, he broke out another wipe.

‘How much of this stuff have you got on? Jesus.’ When he was done he examined it. The wipe was tan, with flecks of dark grey from her eye make-up. ‘That’ll do. Those lashes though, take ‘em off. They look like they’re going to fall off anyway.’

Chloe did as she was told. No point having to show her vagina to a stranger for the sake of some six quid lashes from Boots. The lashes were easy to peel off, but she struggled to flick them off her fingers. They were still wet with tears.

She had to wipe her fingers on her bare thighs, and looked at the very strange sight of false eye lashes stuck to her lap.

The Savage Shaver wasn’t done though. A buzz as the clippers came back to life.

Oh fuck no, hadn’t she suffered enough?

‘Now.’ He crouched next to her, and brough it level with her left eyebrow. ‘Just one thing left to do.’

Chloe didn’t have any tears left. She could muster a moaning sound.

Dan watched as The Savage Shaver got ready to shave her eyebrows off. He was trying to ignore the boner stirring his boxer shorts. This was horrible. Chloe was going through real distress, but somehow he was enjoying it. She looked hideous. There was no attraction for the skinny bald girl he was looking at.

But.

At the same time.

It was turning him on. He didn’t like it, but he could see what it was about this which did it for The Savage Shaver. And he felt sick and embarrassed by it.

‘Danny Boy, listen up.’

‘Hi. I’m listening.’ He felt no malice for the man who had just made his girlfriend look like that. In fact, he felt himself wanting to please The Savage Shaver.

‘Alright. I’m going to ask you a question,’ he said over the sound of the buzzing clippers. ‘Think before you answer. Because if I think you’re lying, Chloe’s saying goodbye to her brows.’

She was side-eying the clippers with lash-less eyes. A ripple coursed through her throat as she swallowed. He noticed some acne on her chin that the make-up had been hiding.

‘Dan. Do you still fancy your little girlfriend now?’

‘No.’

The clippers stopped. ‘I believe you.’

‘Thanks a lot, Dan.’ she said bitterly, flicking the lashes off her leg. ‘But it’s OK. I’m disgusting, I know.’ Her voice was turning more and sour. ‘I was just kidding myself, really.’ Chloe looked into the camera with something approaching real hatred.

For him? Or for herself? Dan didn’t know.

The Savage Shaver walked towards the frame and killed the feed.

Dan was left alone in his room.

He had a lot of feelings to unpack.

The Savage Shaver had left her tied up. ‘Danny Boy can set you free.’ He’d said.

Before he left, Chloe asked him one more thing. ‘Can I ask you something? Please? I really have to know.’

He paused, and turned to face her. ‘Go on.’

‘When you said Dan had looked stuff up…How did you know? Was it true?’

‘True? Fuck knows? It was just a lucky guess!’

*

Two weeks later

Chloe didn’t want to talk to the press. She didn’t really want to talk to anybody. It was bad enough talking to Dan.

He had come round soon after, and they both agreed it was going to be too weird, and too hard to carry on.

Dan had started apologising: ‘About what I said…when he asked me if I still –’

Chloe had cut him off. ‘Just stop. I don’t want to talk about it. I know I look like shit. Of course you won’t want to go out with me anymore.’

‘No, it’s not like that!’

Chloe wasn’t stupid. She knew that it was like that.

Her parents had ordered her a wig but it looked too obvious, and it was too different to her actual hair for who knew her to not notice anyway.

She reached up and felt her hair. It was now about the length of a buzzcut, and even though she hated how it looked she couldn’t stop touching it.

The waiting room was empty, and in the tattoo parlour she enjoyed a few moment of privacy, with no body looking at her ugly self.

Chloe had given up on make-up and taken the piercings out of her ears. Until her hair grew back, it seemed a bit pointless.

She had only one tattoo: the butterfly on her wrist. Chloe had gone to a different parlour, one where nobody would recognise and ask her the same questions:

“What happened to you?”, “Where’s your hair?”, “Why did you shave it off?” making her have to tell them exactly what happened and relive her abrupt and unwanted “restyle”.

The curtain was parted, and a heavily pierced woman with a dragon winding its way up her arm told her to come through, and said: ‘So you mentioned something about getting a cover done?’

‘Yeah.’ Chloe sat down, and turned her wrist round to show her. ‘I never want to see this stupid butterfly again.’