The Vanishing Hair: Part 2

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“So can I ask you something personal about your hair?” I asked Kristy.


She looked up from her plate, then held up a finger to ask me to wait as she finished chewing her food. I smiled at how cute she was, looking dynamite in a cute red dress under a black leather jacket and the same black leather boots she had worn the day we met, which seemed a lifetime ago. Her bare head shining seductively under the restaurant lights.


Kristy and I had been dating for 10 weeks, each date better than the last, I was simply crazy about her. We were out to enjoy lunch, a movie, dinner, and what I was hoping would be the first time we made love. Tonight the chemistry seemed almost otherworldly, I could cut the tension with a knife, and it felt like a perfect night to finally go all the way.


“Sorry, bad timing,” she said after she finally swallowed, “of course you can.”


“Do you ever… miss your hair?” I asked, and her eyes widened at the question. I had always refrained from asking her about her long lost legendary head of hair because losing it had hurt her so much, but I hoped that she felt comfortable with me by this point that she wouldn’t mind. Apparently, she caught onto that as well.


“You know, I think this is the first time you’ve ever brought up my hair,” she said as she rubbed a hand over her smooth cranial skin, “you getting bored of the bald look?”


“Not at all, you know how it turns me on,” I replied honestly, “I always wondered, but never felt like you were really secure with it until now.”


“To be honest, I wasn’t,” she said as she took a sip of soda, “but you changed that, and now I feel… good.”


I laughed at the way she said good, like even she was surprised to hear it, and she laughed too as she continued.


“To answer your question though, I do sometimes. I miss the little things, like twirling it around my finger, or smoothing it when I was nervous, or how my ponytail felt bouncing against my back as I worked out… but those are all things I can live without now. I really… truly don’t mind being bald anymore, and I can finally admit that.”


“So am I,” I told her honestly as I kissed her hand, “so am I.”




Wow, I thought to myself as I answered honestly, I really DON’T miss my hair! Who would have thought?


If it hadn’t been for Eric I might have felt differently, but I could tell he loved me for who I was, not how I looked, and he smiled as I told him.


We paid and left for the movie theater, but as we left the restaurant I felt a headache begin to form. It started small, but as we drove to the theater it grew worse and worse. I wasn’t feeling so hot, which killed me because tonight I had been planning on taking Eric to bed for the first time.


“Babe?” I asked meekly as I squinted my eyes against the latest pulse.


“Yeah honey?” he asked as he turned to look at me, his face turning to worry as he saw the pain in my eyes for the first time.


“Um, I hate to ask, but can we head back to my place?” I replied.


“Yeah you bet,” Eric said, “are you feeling alright?”


“Not really,” I said, feeling terrible for cutting our date short, “I’m getting a pounding headache and think I need to take a nap with you curled around me.”


“Oh sure babe,” Eric said, turning into the left turn lane to make a U-turn, “I’ve got some Advil in the glove compartment, grab some until we get back to your place.”


We got back to my house and I changed into a blue pajama shirt and bright red pajama pants before I joined Eric and curled up on my bed. By then my head was pounding so any thought of fooling around was right out the window. We talked briefly in quiet tones, the whole time my headache killing me.


“You sure you’re OK babe?” Eric asked as I winced again, “you look like you’re in a lot of pain.”


“Yeah, it hurts,” I said as I waited for it to pass, “but I think it’s getting a little better.”


“OK,” he said simply, and then I felt his fingers begin to gently massage my head.


A part of me was sad that I would never get to feel his fingers in my hair, one of my favorite sensations, but this felt amazing too. And after a few minutes we fell asleep.


I woke up about an hour later, slowly, groggily. I felt somehow MORE tired than I did before the nap, but at least my headache was gone, which was a massive relief. Eric was still asleep, so I slowly slid out from under his arm and stood up, taking a moment to stretch as I did so.


Something about me felt strange… different. Something was definitely not normal right now, but I was too tired to determine what exactly it was.


I need coffee, I thought to myself as I stumbled to the bathroom to see what I needed to do to gussy up before dinner, then I can find out what’s wrong after that. Or so I thought… it turned out I was about to discover something shocking before I had my coffee.


I made my way groggily to the bathroom and took a quick look at my sleepy self in the mirror as I walked by it to get to the closet and change back into my date outfit for dinner. My face was still red from where it had been laying on Eric’s arm, my makeup would need some touching up, and my long hair would need to be brushed out to fix my mild case of bedhead, but for the most part, I still looked good enough to head out for dinner after Eric got up. I had made my way to the closet and was about to slip out of my pajamas, when suddenly I realized that I had just seen something impossible in the mirror.


Wait, WHAT?!?


I froze, unable to comprehend what had just happened, then slowly, methodically, I walked backwards out of the closet, looked back at myself in the mirror… and screamed.




I shot awake to the sound of Kristy screaming, falling out of the bed and onto the floor in a very undignified manner as I jumped to my feet.


“KRISTY?!?” I yelled as the world spun in front of me from standing up too quickly, “where are you?!?”


“I’m in the bathroom,” I heard her say, so I rushed to the door and found it locked.


“Are you OK?” I said, debating whether or not to try and break it down, “are you hurt?”


“No, I’m fine, sorry,” she said, then I heard her mumble something quietly that sounded like what the fuck, is this a dream, “I just… something weird just happened.”


“What was it?” I asked.


“I just… I don’t…” she was clearly at a loss for words, what was going on? “I think I need to show you for you to understand. Just… don’t freak out, OK?”


“OK babe, I promise,” I said honestly, whatever was happening, I had to keep my cool to keep her calm. Had she hurt herself? Was she sick? What?


The door opened slowly, and she stepped out, a look of cautious uncertainty on her face. She looked fine, except for…


“Wait, when did you get a new wig?” I asked, “it looks so real!”


“Touch it,” she said, and I obliged. The hair was soft, the softest I’d ever felt, definitely real hair, she must have spent a fortune on it. My fingers moved down towards the base to feel the mesh, but when it got there, all I felt was her skin under the hair… but… that was impossible… unless…


“It’s not a wig Eric,” Kristy said, a small, nervous giggle escaping her mouth, “it’s real. I don’t know how, but it’s my hair, it… it came back!”


“How?” I asked, gently tugging at the silken locks, they were definitely the real deal, “how is this possible?”


“Pinch me,” she said suddenly, her eyes growing wide, “this has to be a dream, right?”


I looked at her hair in disbelief as she turned to face the bathroom mirror, completely overcome with a primordial, lustful desire to dig my hands deep into those piles of rich, shining black silk, which shimmered beautifully in the bathroom lights as she ran her hands through it, fluttering playfully and delicately with each movement. It looked even longer than it had when I had first met her, now falling a few inches below the top of her butt, but somehow even MORE beautiful than when I had seen it. It looked alive, like it WANTED me to touch it, but I held off… I still didn’t know what had happened, and I needed to put off my sudden longing for the moment.

“It’s not… but it can’t be real,” I said in dull shock at what I was looking at, “you don’t just grow 40 inches of hair during a nap, how is this possible?”


“I don’t know!” she said, stepping away from me and looking in the mirror in disbelief, then a look of what appeared to be understanding spread over her face, “actually… ohhhhhhh.”


“What do you mean ‘ohhhhhhh geez’,” I said, a little more accusingly than I meant to, but she didn’t seem to notice.


“I mean… I think I have an idea how it happened,” she said as she turned to face me, her hands slowly, gently digging deep into her rich, gorgeous mane. Her hands moved slowly and deliberately, like she was afraid her hair would fall out at any moment.


“Wait what?” I asked as I looked at her, unable to comprehend how she could have done this, “you have an idea of how the impossible happened?”


“Well, maybe not as impossible as you think,” Kristy said, a hint of apprehension creeping into her voice.


“What do you mean? I asked, confused.


“Thing is, I think I may know what’s happening with my hair, but… I don’t know how to explain it,” she said as she took my hand and walked me to the sofa, where we sat down looking into each other’s eyes, “if you think this is weird, you haven’t heard anything yet.”


“Kristy, I just saw you grow 5 years of hair during a nap, I think we are beyond weird at this point,” I said, “whatever you tell me, I don’t think I have a choice but to believe it.”


She took a deep breath, and as she did so I allowed myself to do something that I wanted to do the day I met her, but thought I would never be able to. I reached up and ran my hands through her impossibly thick and long mane.


My GOD! I thought to myself, it’s like silk! I’ve never felt hair so heavy and so soft in my life! This is almost… supernatural.


After a moment she looked back into my eyes, and nodded.


“OK,” she said with a smile and slight nod, “OK, I’ll tell you, but… please don’t think that I’m crazy. And whatever you do, don’t you dare stop stroking my hair.”




So I told him about everything. About Ryan’s little Kama Ku figurine, about the research I did into him, about the curse, about the circumstances that had led to our first meet cute, about the slow death of my hair, about the breakup, and finally, about how I had come back to find him after my hair had vanished.


As I told him everything I would occasionally reach up and run my fingers through my hair, for narrative purposes at first, but after a while I just did it to revel in the amazing feel of my hair in my hands again. It was softer than I remembered, and at first I just thought it was because I had been separated from it for so long, but as I continued to tell the story I realized it wasn’t just my imagination.


My hair was definitely softer and shinier than it had been before the curse. I realized that it was probably because my hair had reappeared all at once, without years of exposure to the sun, chemicals, heat, and other hair-damaging factors to wear on it.


As I explained everything to Eric he didn’t at all react the way I expected him to. He nodded at all the right times, stopped me a few times to ask me to expand on things, and asked questions at all the right points. Finally, 20 minutes after I began to explain it all, he looked at me and nodded.


“Well, I believe you,” he said simply, and smiled.


“You do?” I asked in disbelief, “how? I don’t even believe it myself!”


“Well, for one thing, what just happened to your hair puts me in the position to believe anything you tell me,” Eric said as he reached out and gently grabbed a fistful of my warm, soft locks, “and on top of that, there is no way in hell hair can feel this healthy and thick without magic, simply no way.”


“I know, right?” I said as I stood up and walked over to his nearby mirror to look at my ravishing new mane, “it’s never been half this soft at the height of its existence, and now? I mean look at it!”


I held up my mane in my left hand and looked down at it, still shocked at its incredible condition. I couldn’t believe it, I had my hair back!


“I just can’t believe it… my hair…” and I felt myself choke up a bit.


“Hey, hey,” Eric said, standing up and taking me in his arms, “I thought you said you didn’t even care about your hair anymore.”


“I didn’t, that’s the thing!” I said as I melted into his arms, I felt him gently run his fingers through my massive new tresses, impossibly not hitting a single snag due to its perfect condition, “but now that I have it back… I forgot just how much I missed it.”


A horrible thought occurred to me, and I immediately pushed off of Eric.


“Oh my God, Eric, what If I didn’t learn my lesson?” I asked, fear overtaking my voice as I reached up and plunged my hands deep into my hair, “what if this curse comes back and takes my hair again because I forgot how much I love it?!?”


“Calm down babe,” Eric said reassuringly, “it’s OK…”


“It’s not OK Eric!” I said,, still digging my hands through my hair, terror gripping me at the thought of being forced to watch my hair vanish all over again, “it’s not OK! I can’t lose my hair again! I can’t Eric!”


“Babe, think about it,” Eric said, slowly making his way to me, “you learned your lesson, otherwise you never would have gotten your hair back. I know you still have that lesson in your heart, and a new found love for your hair.”


“I really do,” I said as I fell back into Eric’s arms, his hands going directly back into my soft mane, and I reveled in the feeling that I thought I would never experience, “It’s just… it feels soooooo good to have it back again.”


“Plus there’s something else you said that makes me think this is permanent,” he re-assured me, continuing to gently stroke my long, shining mane, “you said that this Kama Ku ‘repays someone tenfold when they learn humility’, right? What if the fact that your hair is so gorgeous is BECAUSE he is repaying you tenfold?”


“You… you might just be right about that,” I said, then pulled back slightly to look him in the eye, his fingers sliding out of my hair as I did so, “I thought that was just because it hasn’t been exposed to the sun, or hair drying, or any outside forces. But the real question is… do you like it?”


“Oh man do I?” Eric said as he continued to stroke my hair, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m gonna kind of miss the bald head, but this hair is nothing short of unbelievable.”


“Literally,” I said, and he chuckled, “hold on one second.”


I walked by him and into my closet, casting a seductive look over my shoulder back at him as I shut the door. I quickly changed out of my pajamas and into something I had been saving for tonight, a black satin corset, stockings, and garter set, then slowly opened the door again. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled, I looked SOOO much better in this outfit with hair.


“Oh my God,” he said at almost a whisper.


I walked over to him and lightly kissed him, my hand on his chest and his hands wrapped around me, then I pulled away, grabbed his hand, and slowly began walking back towards his bedroom, “come on.”


“Where are we going?” he asked, and I smiled without turning back to face him.


“It’s time,” I said simply, and I heard him gasp behind me.


“Really?” he said, and I could hear the sheer joy in his words, “are you sure?”


“I think it’s time you got a hands-on session to learn just what I can do with this hair,” I replied.


The sex was wonderful, and I used my hair to its fullest to arouse him in ways I was sure he never even thought of. It was magical and amazing, much more so than it had ever been with Ryan, and as we laid there post-coitus I draped my long mane over his chest as we talked.


Things continued to get better for us after that day, we continued to date, got serious, and got engaged. It was two years to the day we started dating that he proposed to me, and I knew then and there that this was indeed the man I wanted to spend my life with.


I didn’t lose my hair like I feared, on fact, quite the opposite. With the curse restoring my new glorious hair, I found out that it grew at incredible speed. Where before my hair grew about half-an-inch a month, my newly restored locks grew close to two inches every four weeks! That meant I could grow it to whatever length I wanted in a fraction of the time it would have normally taken before the curse was broken.


The day that Eric proposed I had been trying my hair at a shorter style than normal, waist-length and stacked like it had been when we had first met, lightly curled to add extra volume, and shinier than ever. We had gone back to his house to “celebrate” in the bedroom, and as we sat in the kitchen discussing the wedding and setting a date, I was looking in a mirror, trying to smooth out the volume that making love had added to my hair.


“So, how do you feel about me growing my hair out for the wedding?” I asked as I put down my compact and looked at Eric, who was busy making us sandwiches in the kitchen, “I’ve always wanted to have my hair super long for my wedding, and now with this new growing rate I think I can do it.”


“I say go for it,” Eric said as he brought me my plate, “I think we both agree a Spring wedding was what we wanted, so nine months should be enough, right?”


“I think so,” I said, taking a bite of my tuna sandwich, “but I’m not sure, I want it LONG.”


“Like to your hips again?” he asked.


“Longer,” I replied, a smile creeping over my lips.


“Your butt?” he asked, shock on his face.


“Loooooonger,” I said in a sing-song voice as my smile grew wider.


“Your… calfs?” Eric asked, a smile growing on his face as well, he had always said he wanted to see my hair super long at least once, it looked like we were both getting our wish.


“I was thinking my knees,” I said, and his face beamed, “what do you think?”


“I am SOOOOO OK with that,” he said, leaning over and kissing me, “damn, I can’t wait to see it that long!”


“This coming from the guy who said he thought I was beautiful bald,” I said with a chuckle.


“You were,” he replied, “I just love it on both extremes. Maybe one day, I’ll be making love to a baldy.”


“Don’t even JOKE about that! If anything happens to THIS,” I grabbed two fistfuls of thick, silky hair and held it up in front of his face, “I’m coming after you Eric.”


He laughed and kissed me as I dropped my hair, feeling it flutter softly back into place.


“Relax babe,” he said, reassuringly, “I was just joking.”


“You better be,” I said, but only half-joking. I had no idea what was in store for my magnificent mane.


9 Months Later (The Night of the Rehearsal Dinner)




“Oh my god, I’m EXHAUSTED!” Kristy said as she tossed her purse onto the nearby table in our hotel room and opened up her suitcase, “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the entire wedding!”


“You’ll be fine Locks,” I said as I flopped down on the bed and let out a sigh, “and you’re going to look so damn amazing.”


“I hope so,” she said as she slipped out of her shoes, “all eyes are going to be on me you know.”


My own eyes couldn’t be peeled off of her. She looked amazing in a knee-length white dress, makeup freshly done, and a million-dollar smile, and of course, her incredible hair.


In the nine months since I had proposed she had indeed been able to grow it out those tresses the nearly two feet she needed, going from waist length to knee-length in just over 8 and a half months. But it looked completely different, and for good reason.


It was around the time that her hair had reached her knees that we discovered something else truly remarkable about her hair. Apparently, Kristy had some form of limited control over it, as she could influence its rate of growth, condition, color, and even texture. We had discovered it when her hair had finally reached her knees, and Kristy had mentioned that she wasn’t looking forward to the amount of time she would need to spend getting it trimmed and treated at salons.


But after a couple of weeks, we realized that her hair had hardly grown, if at all. Where before, when her hair had first been restored to her, it had grown at a rate of about 2 inches a month, but once it reached her knees and she didn’t want to grow it anymore, it had taken nearly two months to grow a single inch. Once she got it trimmed, she “willed” herself to grow it out again, and we watched in amazement as her hair grew at its old rate of over two inches a month, and within thirty days it had gone from the top of her knees, to just below.


She had trimmed it back and resumed growing it at a snail’s pace, but she was curious what else she could do with it, so the experiments had begun.


First, she tried color. In her mind she focused on changing her color from her normal deep black, to a bright, vibrant red. After a few hours trying to figure out why it wasn’t working, we realized that the process wasn’t immediate. Over the next week, her hair color began to change. It never went to the bright red she was aiming for, but her dark locks began to take on a dark red hue. She spent the next week returning to her natural black, then tried to go platinum blond, with the same results. After a day her hair took on an ashy highlight to it, a few days later it was a rich, deep brown, a few days later it was a light brown, but never got lighter than a dark, dirty blond. Finally, she decided to combine the two tints, and to our great surprise, her glorious hair came out to a beautiful, dark, strawberry-blond that perfectly complimented her happy-go-lucky spirit.


Next came condition. On a whim, she willed her hair to become thicker, fuller, and healthier than it was even now. After a few days I could actually feel the difference, but a week later her hair became nothing short of a miracle. Her hair felt stronger, healthier, and looked thicker, softer, and shinier than it had ever been, or ANY hair I had ever seen for that matter. It didn’t even feel like hair anymore, but it felt more like a waterfall of living silk that seemed to shine with a life of its own. She fell so in love with her new hair that she decided to keep it that way.


Finally came texture. Kristy tried to use her willpower to curl her hair, and it actually came out looking great. After a few days her hair took on a noticeable, gentle wave, then thicker waves adorned her mane throughout a few days later, and after a week or so her hair naturally fell in beautiful, gentle, natural curls that looked like she came straight from a stylist. As great as her hair looked though, she was never able to get it into ringlets like she wanted, but that was fine because she opted to keep her new knee-length strawberry-blond mane in soft, gentle waves that looked absolutely stunning on her today.

Simply put, her hair was gorgeous beyond words, so gorgeous in fact, that as it had passed her thighs I had started calling her by a new nickname, “Locks”. I honestly don’t know if the name had popped into my head because of her long locks of hair, or a shortened version of “Goldilocks”, but the name had stuck, and she absolutely loved the new term of endearment her remarkable mane had earned her. Right now it was piled high on her head in a beautiful and elegant looking bun that was the size of a sourdough loaf, held in place and adorned by a complicated looking network of satin bows and ribbons.


“So,” she said flopping down next to me on the bed, “are you nervous?”


I looked at her and smiled as I began gently pulling out the ribbons holding her magnificent bun in place. She had somehow slipped into her favorite pajamas, which consisted of nothing more than a long-sleeve, pink button-up satin sleep-shirt that fell to her creamy, flawless thighs, and a pair of panties. As I continued to quickly work her hair out of its bun it spread out all over the bed like a blanket of warm, soft, golden-brown silk. She was perfect, and soon, she was going to be my wife. I was truly blessed.


“Maybe I would be if I wasn’t sure that the person I was marrying wasn’t my soulmate,” I said, and she smiled, “but that’s not the case.”


“Well then come here soulmate,” she said as she slowly reached downward and her hand unfastened my belt.


“You got it Locks,” I replied as I began unbuttoning her sleep shirt.


About 15 minutes later we were deep in the act of making love. She was on top, letting her hair dangle over her shoulders and spill into a pile on my face the way I loved it.


“Do you love me?” she asked breathlessly as we gyrated in perfect unison, “tell me you love me.”


“I love you so fucking much,” I whispered back, “more than I ever thought possible.”


I flipped her over, getting on top of her and watching her hair fly with the movement, and I buried my hands deep into the silken, wavy lengths, grabbing it tight, but not tight enough to really hurt her.


“Ohhhhhh my God, feels soooo good,” she whispered, then grabbed my head and pulled it close to hers.


“Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” she said, “tell me anything.”


“I can’t wait to make you my wife,” I said, thrusting into her, and she moaned.


“No, tell me what you’re really thinking,” she said, “tell me something you want me to do that you’ve NEVER told me.”


“I want…” I debated telling her something I had been holding onto for a long time… a crazy, insane idea I nurtured in my fantasies, but nowhere else. I wanted to, so, so bad, but I didn’t dare, “I want you… I want you more than anything.”


“TELL me,” she whispered ferociously.


She knew I was hiding something… and I felt my resolve melting away in the moment.


“I want to,” I tried to fight it, but it was too much, I had to get it out, so I gripped her hair tight and told her “I want… I want to shave all this hair off you head.”


It was out… and I prayed I hadn’t just said that, that it had all been in my head… but it wasn’t.


I felt the rhythm of her hips slow down, then stop, and then a second of terrifying silence.


“What?” she asked softly, and I froze.


“I said,” I stumbled… trying to think, “I said I want you to shave down there.”


Another moment of silence, and then a shock.


“That’s too bad… because I was hoping you said you wanted to shave my head…” she said and I felt her hips begin thrusting again.


“You… want that?” I said, trying to sound aroused, but sounding comically surprised instead.


“Fuck yeah I do,” she said in a voice raspy with passion, I couldn’t tell if she was humoring me or honest, but I wasn’t going to let the opportunity or moment pass, “I want you to get rid of all… this… hair.”


“I can’t,” I said, burying my face in the soft tresses, “I love your hair.”


“Too bad,” she said, and everything just got insanely hot, “because it’s all going… it’s gonna be gone soon.”


“No,” I whispered, feeding into the role play… it had to be, right?


“All gone,” she reaffirmed, her voice nearly a growl as we both neared climax, “it’s doomed, it’s already as good as shaved now, all this soft hair, poof, gone!”


“Not your hair…” I said, feeling myself weakening all over at this crazy turn, “anything but your hair!”


“Say your goodbyes my love,” she said in her near-growl, “get your last feel, because it’s going. It’s gonna be nothing but a memory very… very… soon.”


“Noooo… oooo… ooo,” I said as we climaxed, and she moaned in pleasure, her breath catching as she orgasmed in sync with me.


It was amazing, but when it was over, we just laid next to each other panting, both of us not quite able to approach the strange new bomb I had just placed between us.


“Sooooo… are we going to talk about what just happened?” Kristy said about half an hour later as we laid in bed, me in my boxers and a shirt, and her back in her satin sleep shirt.


We had watched TV in silence after the incredible session, neither of us talking about it, but it looked like the bubble had burst.


“Yeah, I guess we should,” I said as I flicked off the TV, “it was nothing serious you know, I was… just messing with you… and all that? Trying to say crazy stuff in bed, especially because we know how much we both love your hair.”


“Well, sure,” she said, “but be honest, have you… you know, really thought about that?”


A moment of hesitation.


“Please be honest Eric, I’ll love you either way,” she said, and I knew she would, “everyone has their kinks, and to be honest, this is a pretty tame one. You could have been a furry or something.”


I laughed out loud at that, then turned to face her, and her kind eyes put me at ease instantly.


“OK… OK you deserve the truth. To be honest, I don’t really, it’s sort of weird,” I said, feeling her eyes on me as I thought about the best way to phrase what I felt, “you know I love your hair, right? And this new style you’re doing? Oh my GOD, it drives me wild!”


“So why do I feel like there’s a big ‘but’ coming?” Kristy asked as she propped herself on her side to face me, her chin resting on her hand and her hair spilling over her, and I continued.


“Buuuuuuut… remember how beautiful I said you looked when you were bald?”


“Of course,” she said, and a warm smile spread over her face, “it’s what got me over that bad time.”


“Well I meant it,” I continued, “I fell in love with you when you didn’t have hair, and a part of me always wondered… well… what sex would have been like without it. What it would have felt like to rub your bald head while we were making love. I don’t know, it’s stupid.”


“It’s NOT stupid Eric,” Kristy said reassuringly, putting her hand over mine, “you fell in love with me when I was bald, that’s actually insanely sweet!”


“But don’t worry, I’d NEVER ask you to act on it of course, and like I said, I am absolutely over the moon with the way your hair looks now,” I said, feeling better about myself now that I knew she accepted me even in spite of my weird fantasy, “I couldn’t stand the thought of being responsible for destroying something so beautiful.”


“OK,” she said, and I turned the TV back on, squeezing her a little tighter, but a moment later she picked up the remote and turned off the TV.


“Now can I tell you something weird?” she asked nervously as she propped herself up on her elbow, and I nodded, “and you have to promise not to think I’m too crazy?”


“Of course Locks,” I said, sitting up.


“What if I told you…” she looked down nervously, then back up into my eyes, “what if I told you that… sometimes… when the mood strikes me… I think about shaving my head again?”


“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” I said, not believing these words coming out of her mouth.


“I most certainly am NOT,” she said, her eyes telling me she was being honest, “every now and then, despite how much I love my hair, I want to feel my head the way it was back when I was bald, it was sooooo sensual, and sooooo strange, and sooooo easy. You said you wanted to know what it was like to rub my head in the middle of sex? Well guess what, I’ve wondered what it would be like to FEEL you rubbing my bare head during sex. I don’t want to be bald ALL the time obviously, or even for an extended period of time, but every now and then… once in a blue moon… I miss that feeling, and it never TRULY goes away.”


“What are you saying Kristy?” I asked, my heart racing.


“I don’t know Eric,” she said flabbergasted, “I LOVE my hair, but… sometimes… I REALLY want to feel bald again, even if it’s just for a short time before growing it back out.”


“But it’s not going to be a short time Kristy,” I said, reaching out and gently caressing some of her long, soft waves, “if you do this, it will be at least two, maybe even three years to get it back to this length, even considering how fast you can make your hair grow.”


“I know…” she said as she absentmindedly twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, “but even though I know how absolutely crazy this whole idea is, that strange desire just won’t leave. It’s always there, like an itch in my brain I can’t scratch. GOD! I feel like I’m going insane!”


“You’re not going insane,” I said, grabbing her hand and kissing it, “I’ve shaved my head for swimming, I remember that feeling, it’s… pretty cool, to put it mildly.”


“And I don’t have to go back to this length,” she continued, grabbing a handful of hair and holding it in front of her, “if I shaved it all off to the skin, at the rate my hair grows, I could have it back to my waist like how I met you in a little over a year, and back to the middle of my butt in a year and a half!”


“That’s true as well…” I replied, trying to let her decide what she wanted to do rather than talking her into going one way or another.


“And do you want to hear the weirdest part of all?” she asked, a mischievous grin spreading across her face, “it’s… bizarre to say the least.”


“Well now I HAVE to know,” I said, leaning in closer to her.


“I know JUST how I want to do it too,” she said, a glint of trouble in her eyes.


”You mean like, with a razor?” I asked, not sure where she was going with this, “or with scissors?”


“Nope,” she said as she shook her head gently, her glorious hair swishing softly with the movement, “remember when we first found out I had a some control over my hair, and I started messing around with what I could do with it?”


“Of course,” I replied, not sure where this was going.


“Well, during one of those nights where I wondered what my hair was capable of, I wondered if maybe… just maybe… I could will my hair to disappear entirely,” she said, and paused as she got ready to continue the next part, “and… it worked.”


“It worked?” I repeated skeptically, my eyes going up to take in her lush mane, “you made yourself bald… and I never noticed?”


She laughed and slapped my arm.


“Not exactly,” she said as she reached behind her head and pulled her massive mane up to expose her nape, “look at my nape where my hairline meets my neck. Now look a little to the left, do you see it?”


“See what?” I asked, looking at the underside of her lush mane, “I don’t see any…”


But then her hands lifted a little bit higher… and a loose lock of hair about as wide around as a pea fell free from the rest of her mane and fell to her shoulder blades.


“What’s this?” I asked as I gently rubbed the lock between my fingers, “did you cut this back to this length?”


“No dummy,” she said playfully as she let go of her flowing curls and turned to face me, “I literally WILLED that tiny portion of my hair to fall out about 4 months ago… and it DID.”


“So… you made that small part of your head… bald?” I asked “How?”


“I don’t know, I just… did” she replied, tucking one of her mammoth tresses behind her ear, “I just focused on making that part of my hair fall out, and then about an hour later… it started to, and a few minutes after that, the entire area was bare.”


“And you think if you focus hard enough… you can do that to your entire head?” I asked not believing I was encouraging this crime against humanity, but she thought for a moment, then nodded.


“I think so… in fact, I know so… but… it’s my hair Eric!” she said as she held a handful up to her face, “I love it so damn much, I don’t know if I could do something like that after what we went through together, and even a year sounds like forever to get it back to that length. What do you think?”


“Babe, you and your hair have been through a lot together, it’s perfectly natural to feel this way about losing it.”


“Oh my God, are we really doing this?” she said, her hands shooting to her mouth and her eyes widening in shock, “are we really talking about making me bald again?”


“I… I don’t know,” I said honestly, not sure if she was leaning towards it or not, “are we?”


“I… I don’t know… I don’t know Eric,” she said, and we sat in silence for a moment. Then, out of nowhere, an idea popped into my head.


“What if… we let fate decide?” I said.


“What do you mean?” Kristy asked.


“Well, you know there’s going to be a dollar dance right?” Kristy nodded, “so if we get 2500 dollars or more from that dance, we shave your head. If we get less than 2500, you keep your hair.”


“What if there’s no dance?” she asked.


“I doubt that will happen, but if it does, then we make no money and by extension, you keep that beautiful hair,” I explained, “what do you think?”


“I think…” she started, and I saw her eyes dance a little as she thought about it, “I think I love this idea!”


“Are you sure?” I asked, “once we shave, we can’t exactly go back.”


“I think so,” she said, “but let’s make it 3000 so my hair stands a chance, OK?”


“Why stop there? If we get $3500 dollars in the pot, you get a chrome dome at midnight,” I held out my hand, “do we have a deal?”


She started to reach out, then pulled back her hand.


“I just want you to know, I’m serious about this,” she said, “if I try to back out on this, I need you to hold me to it, OK? No letting me chicken out.”


“OK, I promise,” I said, and she shook my hand, then reached into her lush mane and buried her hands into it.


“I can’t believe I did that,” she said as she tossed her massive mane around her head with her hands, “Oh my God, I’m actually doing this aren’t I?!?”


“We will see Locks,” I said as I joined her in playing with her hair, “we will see.”


“You know if this happens, you won’t be able to call me that anymore, right?” she said, arching an eyebrow at me, “do you have any other nicknames as a backup?”


I thought about it for a moment, then smiled at her.


“How about wife?” I asked, and she smiled.




I woke with a start, but not enough of one to wake Eric out of his sleep. I slipped out of his arms easily and shuffled like a zombie to the bathroom, flipping on the light as I entered and standing in front of the mirror.


I had just had a nightmare of myself getting ready for my wedding, placing my hair in massive, soft curls, and then walking down the aisle towards my husband… when suddenly, my long locks began slipping off my head. The guests gasped, Eric’s eyes widened, and as the last few locks slid off of my head, I started to scream.


But as I finished taking my hair out of its enormous braid and looked in the mirror I realized that it was over… or was it? I had, after all, just put this magnificent mane on the line for a silly bet… and there was a very good chance that it would all be gone very soon.


I glanced back towards the bed, where Eric shifted without me in his arms, and I smiled. He loved falling asleep holding on tight to me, with his face buried in my tresses. Would he be able to sleep when that warm, soft, blanket of hair was replaced with a bare head? I chuckled at the thought, this WAS his idea after all, and HE wasn’t going to be the one going out into public like I had to once my hair was nothing but a memory.


I smiled even wider when I thought back to how nervous he had been when he had let the beans spill about his desire, but I had to stress to him tomorrow that in no way did I find it weird. His reasoning had been sweet and well-intended, and I had been honest when I had shared that the same thoughts had been dancing through my head for a while now. So many times had I plunged my hands into my hair and fantasized that they had been clippers buzzing angrily, so many times I had run my hands through my silken curls and tried to recall how that soft, almost rubbery feel of my bare head had felt.


But in the end I had always felt like my hair was meant to be magnificent, like it was destiny to have the most amazing hair in history. That had been when my hair was straight and black, before I even acquired my strange new abilities, which had only strengthened my belief, and even trimming it shorter than my thighs felt… WRONG. So as much as I fantasized about shedding these massive locks, my perceived destiny and love for my hair had always easily quashed those feeling.


Until last night.


Last night, without warning and in the blink of an eye, I had placed this hair, this beautiful, amazing, miraculous hair that was destined for greatness, on the line… every last strand. Eric let out a small moan and turned in his sleep, his hands subconsciously reaching out and trying to find me. I smiled back at him, if there was anyone out there worth shaving my head for, it was him… but I honestly didn’t know if I was feeling this apprehension about the possibility of going through with it because I was so scared of this sudden possibility…


Or because I was excited for it.


And for the first time in my life, I wished I could see the future, because I wanted to know what I would look like in 24 hours.




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