The Vanishing Hair: Part 3

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Kristy and I parted ways early on the morning of the wedding so she could head to her parent’s to get done up for the wedding. I was changing into my tuxedo when my phone pinged, so I reached over and looked at it, then chuckled at the text.


It was a picture of Kristy at what looked like a stylists, wearing black leather boots, black pants, and her comfortable red flannel shirt. She looked lovely, her hair was (impossibly) even more massive and ravishing it had been when she left the house this morning, now a mass of golden brown, silken curls that more closely resembled a lion’s mane than an actual head of hair, and she was more curl than woman. She looked amazing but a look of worry was on her face.


All of this might be gone by midnight, I’m so freaked out now, how did I let you talk me into this? it read, aren’t you a little worried about not being able to play with it anymore?


Absolutely I am! But think of the positives Locks, I wrote back, I’m not gonna lie though, I’m going to miss that mane of yours if it happens.


Me too! There’s just SO… MUCH… HAIR! She replied, and I chuckled.


Can’t wait to see how it looks for its final day, just 15 hours and 29 minutes until it’s all gone, I replied.


DON’T go there… a least not yet, she said, I’m already on the verge of tears.




It was 1 PM on the nose when my wedding planner gave me the thumbs up.




I took a deep breath, and took one last look in the mirror before getting ready to walk down the aisle. I looked great, wearing a gorgeous Maggie Sottero wedding gown that I had spent three months on a strict spinach and boiled chicken diet to fit into. It was made from expensive silk satin, and shined brilliantly in the sunlight, almost as brilliantly as my hair.


I sighed audibly as my eyes floated there on my reflection, and terrifying thoughts entered my head. My hair… my pride and joy. Right now it had been lightly teased and delicately curled, and now hung to my knees in a gorgeous fall of silken curls that were as soft as they were beautiful (just the way Eric had requested and I had sent him a picture of). It was simple and elegant, adorned with nothing more than my veil and a few strategically placed white flowers.


I had gone all out for my hair, not only because it was my wedding day, but because this represented what may very well be my last day with this amazing mane. This time yesterday I had been thinking of how magical it would be to swim in the ocean during our honeymoon with this hair swirling around me in the water like a mermaid, now there was a good chance I would be flying to Hawaii looking like a cancer patient.


Granted, if we topped 3500 dollars today and sacrificed my amazing locks to the clippers, it was temporary. It would of course grow back, and strangely there WAS a part of me that was genuinely excited to have a shaved head again, but there were so many factors that could change things. What if shaving it cursed me all over again, and I went back to being bald forever? What if the conditions for it growing in had been just right, and this sheer beauty couldn’t be replicated? What if the amazing thickness and rate of growth petered out over time, and it took me ten years to grow out instead of the three we were expecting?


I took a deep breath and forced the thoughts out of my head as I walked into the sunlight and towards my soon-to-be-husband, but in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but think every once in a while that my breathtaking hair, which fluttered softly around me with every step I took, could very well be in the final hours of its life.


The ceremony was perfect, our first kiss as a married couple was electric, and the reception was a blast, but as I danced and had a great time my appearance began to slough a bit. My makeup ran a little, sweat beaded on my forehead, and my dress, which had been diamond white earlier, was getting dingy around the edges.


But one thing that managed to stay immaculate, whether by its sheer beauty or its literal “magic”, was my hair. Despite all the dancing and partying, my hair never lost any of its volume, curl, or bounce the whole night, and was just as soft and shiny as it had been during the ceremony. It was almost like it was pleading for its life, especially considering what tonight might bring for it. Eric couldn’t keep his hands out of my mane as we danced, and I cherished those wonderful soft tugs on my scalp and tried to commit them to memory.


Before long the money dance began, and the crowd rapidly gathered around me and Eric to gift us with bill after bill. At first some quick math in my head had me in good shape, it didn’t seem likely that they would be able to hand off 3500 dollars in such a short time. But as the song went on and the crowd never slowed down I began to worry more and more about how much money was actually being handed off. Eric and I met after the dance and put all the money into an envelope, then exchanged a look that was somewhere between worry and excitement.


Our limo pulled up at 10:50 and Eric and I piled into it, waving to the crowd as we left. The drive back to our hotel was quiet and sweet, with Eric’s hands buried deep into my hair and gently playing with my silky curls.


“Should we do this now?” he asked as he pulled out the envelope.


I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head, my curls gently swinging with the movement.


“Nah,” I said as my hair delicately settled back into place, “as long as I’m wearing this dress, I don’t want to even think about it.”


We pulled up to our hotel and checked in at 11:00, taking care to hold my skirts up to prevent them from dragging anymore. At 11:05 we got to our room, and Eric carried me in and threw me on the bed as I giggled. I excused myself to go to the bathroom as he put some of our cake leftovers in the fridge.


I slipped out of my dress and into a pair of tiny, silky pink sleep-shorts and a white tank-top. I freshened up my make-up, fluffed up my hair, and took a long look at myself in the mirror. I looked gorgeous, but there was a solid chance that I was less than an hour away from going back to bald. It was terrifying. So I took one more deep breath, opened the bathroom door, and walked back into the room to join my husband.




Kristy walked out of the bathroom, looking ravishing in a simple tank-top-and-shorts sleepwear ensemble, her golden curls spilling down around her and surrounding her like a cloak of soft, shimmering, silken waves. She had taken off her dress, but the decorative white flowers from the wedding were still stuck in her hair. She looked like a goddess.


“My God,” I said quietly, and she stopped to look at me, “you are so… beautiful, my wife.”


She giggled at the name and smiled at me as she slid onto our bed and kneeled, her butt resting on the balls of her feet like some kind of meditation pose.


“Wife, I like the sound of that,” she said, then she patted the area of the bed in front of her and I flopped next to her, “does that mean you’ve already retired ‘Locks’?”


“Not at all,” I replied, “I’m just getting a taste for the new nickname. Who knows? Maybe we don’t even need to retire it at all?”


She chuckled as she dropped the dreaded envelope next to her, “Well… in that case, let’s do this and find out once and for all.”


“Are you sure babe?” I asked, moving on the bed so that I was sitting right in front of her in the same position she was, our knees touching and looking into each other’s eyes, “you don’t want to wait? It’s only 11:10.”


But she shook her head slowly, her shimmering hair moving softly around her shoulders like liquid silk.


“No, I can’t take the suspense anymore, I need to get this over with, but I’m still planning on going through with it at midnight,” she handed me the envelope and I very slowly took it from her, “this is it, the fate of my hair is now literally in your hands.”


“Wow, big responsibility,” I said as I reached out and ran my fingers through that magnificent mane, “are you ready?”


She nodded, then took a deep breath as I opened the envelope and dumped the contents onto the bed.


“Wow,” she said as I picked up the bills and checks and straightened them into a single pile, “that is a LOT of money. It’s already not looking good for my hair.”


I smiled my best reassuring smile as I began counting the money.


“100… 150… 200… 300…” I called out the amount as I dropped each bill onto a pile, “400… 500… 600…”


A sudden shiver ran through her as she giggled nervously at the climbing number, causing her hair to ripple gently. As I looked at that amazing hair, I wondered if I was mistaken about this strange fantasy I had shared with her, and found a good part of me hoping that we wouldn’t reach that amount because I suddenly found the idea of destroying something so beautiful to be monstrous.


“Holy shit, it’s happening,” she said as I continued counting., a smile that was a mix of nervousness, terror, and excitement spreading over her face, “I can’t believe this is happening.”


“1100… 1150… 1250…” I saw a folded check and opened it, then laughed as I read the amount, “2000!”


“NO WAY!” Kristy screamed as she snatched the check out of my hand, “a 750 dollar check from my grandparents, holy cow…”


“2100… 2200… 2300… 2350…” I continued to count the bills, a nervous laughter building in my throat as I did so, “2500… 2520… 2620…”


“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” she whimpered, her hands covered her mouth as the numbers continued to climb, “Oh my GOOOOOOOD!”


“2900… 3000… 3100!” I exclaimed, no longer being able to hide the nervous laughter. There were only a few bills left, it was gonna be close.


“STOP!” Kristy laughed, slapping my shoulder and playfully reaching for the money, “no more! NO MORE! PLEEEEEEASE!”


“3300… 3400…” I paused for a moment, then tossed down the final bill, “3450!”


Kristy let out a long, dramatic breath of relief, her hand going to her heart and her eyes closed in relief. Then she let her body go limp and she flopped onto the mattress on her back.


“Oh my God… that was close… SO close…” she said as she opened her eyes and got her breathing under control, her hair pooled around her head beautifully, “TOO close. Are you SURE?”


“I think so, do you ant me to count it again to make sure?” I asked.


For a second she didn’t move, and I knew she was debating if she wanted to tempt fate, but in the end she let out a long sigh and nodded.


“Yeah, do it,” she said with a strained voice, “if we are going to do this, we are doing it RIGHT.”


I obliged her, and when we recounted we came to the same amount, 3450. Kristy let out another comical sigh of relief, but didn’t go limp again.


“I thought you WANTED to shave your head,” I asked teasingly.


“Part of me DOES…” she replied, reaching out and holding a long, silken curl in front of her face, “and the other part of me is jumping for joy that I get to keep it. The question is, how do YOU feel about me keeping it? Are you gonna be OK having to deal with all this lush, bouncy, beautiful hair? Day in and day out?”


I laughed, part of me also slightly saddened that I wouldn’t get to make love to a bald Kristy like I had fantasized about, but, just like Kristy, the part of me that worshipped her hair was very relieved.


“I think I’ll manage,” I replied honestly.


“Are you suuuuuuuure?” she said with otherworldly seduction in her voice, she slowly crawled towards me on all fours, her hair falling over her shoulders and onto the mattress as she did so, “allllllll this hair… soooooo soft… soooooo thick… sooooooo MUCH! How will you EVER handle it all?”


“Well…” I said as I grabbed her in may arms and flipped her onto the bed, her hair spilling across the bed in a fan of golden silk and causing her to her squeal with delight, “I can think of one way to enjoy it on our wedding night.”


Our first sex as a married couple was amazing, and the entire time my hands were buried deep in her incredible hair. I had always been insanely aroused by her hair, but now, knowing how close it had come to being stripped away, took it to a new level. This hair was SUPPOSED to be gone, and here I was, enjoying it like no man had any right to, so I did so to the fullest.


We finished and laid there, holding each other as I gently stroked her hair. I looked over to the clock and saw that it was 11:53, so I kissed her hand and looked at her.


“Wanna get ready for bed?” I whispered.


“Sure,” she whispered back, and we kissed again before separating, “oh hey, do me a favor, can you pick my dress up off the chair and hang it up for me? I want to have it as smoothed out and wrinkle-free as possible before they prep it for storage.”


“Sure babe,” I complied as we both got off the bed. I smiled as I watched her hair slide off the mattress and envelop her like a curtain of silk, then I reached down and picked up her dress.


I was so enamored with her mane that I almost didn’t notice the slip of paper fall from her dress.


“What’s that?” Kristy asked as I handed her the dress, then I walked back to where she was pointing. On the floor was a small slip of paper, but as I reached down to pick it up I felt my heart leap into my throat.


It was a check.


Behind me I heard a noise escape Kristy’s throat that very sounded exactly like I imagined someone’s soul leaving their body would sound like. I turned and saw that her eyes had gone wide, her color rapidly draining from her face, and her body as stiff as a board. I knew that I didn’t need to tell her what it was. My hands were shaking as I opened it up, looked at her, and placed it on the pile of cash and checks on the nearby table.


“3650,” I said simply.


Kristy collapsed onto the floor, her wide eyes wandering and looking at nothing in particular, her dress clutched to her chest like some form of comforting stuffed animal, and her mouth opening and closing with no real sounds coming out. Finally, after nearly a minute of wallowing in disbelief and shock, Kristy let out a loud sigh, this time in resignation rather than relief, then tossed her hair back behind her head with a well-practiced flick of the wrists.


“So that’s it then…” she repeated, looking at the clock, “it’s over. 4 minutes left… and then my hair… is… going away.”


I didn’t know what to say, I don’t think there was anything I COULD say, so I walked over to where she sat on the floor and wrapped my arms around her quietly, my hands gently stroking her soft hair reassuringly.


We sat there for several minute until finally, at 11:59 I kissed her hand and looked at her.


“This is it, are you ready?” I asked her.


“Are you?” she replied. She wore a smile that was trying to be strong, but I saw unrestrained fear behind it.


As much as I was looking forward to finally fulfilling my nearly two year-long dream of making love to a bald Kristy, I was suddenly gripped with a strong, nearly undefeatable desire to change her mind and save that remarkable hair. I pictured us in Hawaii with her long hair still intact, wearing her bikini as her hair swished around her flawless, tan, oiled thighs, floating around her in a cloud of dark gold as we swam together in the ocean, and I wanted to experience it, and love it for the rest of my life…


But she had made me promise to go through with it, and I never broke a promise.


So, as hard as it was, I nodded, and she smiled reassuringly.


Kristy slowly stood up and made her way to the bathroom while I watched, her hair swishing gently around her head in its final, defiant moments. It was beautiful… absolutely beautiful… and here we were about to destroy it.


I had to say something, if she was scared, I couldn’t let this happen. Even if it meant I never got to see her bald again, I had to ask her if this was what she really wanted.




“Babe, are you sure about this?” Eric asked me as he stood in the doorway of the bathroom, “you don’t have to do this, it was just a stupid wager.”


I turned to face him so fast that that my hair flew out behind me like a storm of silk, but then settled perfectly back into place with its usual flawlessness as the temptation to take Eric up on his idea welled up full-force within me.


I looked in the nearby mirror at my perfect, enormous mane, shimmering beautifully in the lights and dancing delicately with even the slightest of movements. The flowers from the wedding had been removed after Eric and I had made crazy, passionate love, and they were lined up on the bathroom counter. Very soon they would be nothing more than beautiful reminders of just how gorgeous my hair had once been.


The sex had been amazing, and I treasured and cherished those gentle tugs on my scalp as Eric had plunged his hands endlessly into my hair. I now tried to do my best to commit that wonderful sensation to memory, as soon that was all my hair would be, a memory.


In that moment, I wanted so badly to say “fuck it” and keep my glorious locks, but another part of me wanted to feel that strange, alien, wonderful feeling of simplicity that I had experienced when it was gone, even if it was just for a few days or weeks. But more than that, I wanted to fulfill Eric’s somewhat odd, but completely understandable and intensely sweet dream of making love to the version of me he had fallen in love with.


All of this went through my head in seconds… and when I looked at the clock, I saw that it was 11:59:41, and I was now 19 seconds away from not being able to turn back. Once I shut my eyes and focused on the death of my hair, I knew I wouldn’t be able to undo it. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I just had the subconscious knowledge that what was about to happen would be irreversible.


So with a pain in my heart, I slowly nodded my head, my hair softly swishing around my head as I did so for what I knew would be the last time.


“Yeah,” I said sadly but determinedly as I ran my fingers through my mane again, “yeah, let’s do this.”


Right then the midnight alarm went off. We both turned to look at it, and then into each other’s eyes, we were at the point of no return.


“Goodbye Locks, and hello Wife” he said as he reached out and ran his fingers softly through my hair, then after a moment his eyes hardened and he nodded to me, “do it.”


I took a deep breath and shut my eyes, then focused all my will on destroying my glorious mane. I focused the same way I had focused on destroying that tiny portion of my hair all those months ago, but now I used that process and covered my entire head with that desire. I focused on all my hair, picturing the end result of looking like I had over a year ago on my first date with Eric. It was hard work, and I could slowly feel a tingling spreading over my head as I focused… it was happening. After a few short moments, and with apparently no warning, the tingling faded, and I knew the deed was done.


My hair, even in all its full glory and splendor as it was right then… was dying.


It may take 10 minutes… it may take 30… it may ever take an hour, but I knew my beautiful hair would not survive to see the sunrise. I opened my eyes and smiled sadly at Eric.


“It’s done,” I said, and he nodded as he reached out and gently stroked my locks just the way I loved it.


“How long?” he asked, still gently fondling my locks.


“I’m not sure exactly,” I replied, “but it’ll be soon. I’ll keep an eye on the progress.”


He let out a long breath, then looked at me quizzically.


“So what do we do now?” he asked, and I hadn’t considered it, “go to sleep? Wake up and find your hair spread all over the bed?”


I laughed at that and lightly slapped his arm.


“Like I could sleep right now with what’s about to happen? Yeah, right,” I said, “and I doubt you could too. I’m gonna stay up and enjoy every last second I have left with it. Wanna watch some TV to pass the time until… you know?”


“Sure babe,” he said as he switched on the TV, and I curled up next to him. We sat there for quite a while… just waiting, his hands constantly stroking and caressing my soft locks… and me looking for the first sign of its final demise.


Almost an hour later I was beginning to think something went wrong, and that the enchantment wouldn’t work, when I ran my fingers through my long waves and saw a few strands between my fingers. I almost gasped, but held it in while I processed the information. A couple strands typically wouldn’t mean anything to the average person, but my hair was far from average, and I knew what this meant.


I felt a pang of sadness that it was finally happening, that my hair was in the very beginning stages of its death throes, just minutes away from vanishing forever, but then I had an idea of how to enjoy it… one last time.




I felt Kristy nudge me, and there was something desperate in the nudge, so I knew what it was about before I even turned to look at her.


“It’s starting,” she said, and she held her hand up in front of me. I couldn’t see what I was supposed to see for several seconds, but then I spied a few strands wrapped in her fingers. I looked at her sadly and reached out to stroke her amazing mane, desperate to take in one last chance to enjoy its fluffy, silky texture.


“Oh babe,” I said as my fingers slid through her hair, somewhat surprised that no strands came out in my fingers, “I’m really going to miss it.”


“We don’t have long, so do you want to try something crazy?” she asked, a mischievous glint was in her eyes, which were shining almost as brightly as her hair.


“What are you thinking?” I asked, genuinely interested.


“Well, if my timing is right, let’s make love right this minute if you have it in you,” she said, “and you’ll be in for quite a surprise in the long run.”


And I knew exactly what she meant.


It started slow, just like our foreplay.


As we fooled around, my hands were constantly in her thick, luscious hair, grabbing fistfuls of it and tugging semi-hard. As I did so, a few strands came out at first, but as time went on, I noticed those strands quickly went from one or two, to over a dozen with each pull.


By the time I got her clothes off I was noticing around 2 dozen strands every 30 seconds or so, with the number climbing higher by the minute. Before long, her hair had taken on a slightly more frazzled, frayed look from the hair falling out, but still looked and felt as full and thick as ever, like all the hair falling out hadn’t even impacted it, and as I entered her, there was still no visible indication that her hair had thinned at all. It was spread over the bed in a sea of rippling, golden, wavy silk, softer than silk to the touch, and shimmering like liquid gold in the lights.


But as our rhythm and breath began to speed up, so did her hair loss. It wasn’t long before every time I ran my fingers through her hair, they were coming out with clumps of her soft curls. At first the sight of her hair in my fingers made her utter a small cry of distress, but those cries quickly became something closer to pleasure as more and more of her hair fell from her head. As her cries and my grunts of passion became faster and faster, I decided to hold off reaching into her hair anymore. Despite the frazzled appearance, her hair still looked as thick and full as beautiful as always, and I wanted to take in the sight of it in all its glory one last time.


Several more minutes passed, both of us reaching closer and closer to climax, and as we both came dangerously close she lifted her head to whisper into my ear. The simple motion was enough to cause a noticeable patch of her hair near her temple to slide off her head, but she ignored it as she aggressively and rousingly whispered into my ear.


“Do it!” she nearly growled, “finish it! Fulfilll that wish of yours!”


She didn’t have to tell me twice. I reached up and sank my fingertips deep into the front of her hairline of soft, luscious locks, noticing how her hair seemed to slide under my fingers with even the small movement. I paused for the briefest of moments… then slowly pushed my hands back like I was trying to pull her hair back into a tight ponytail for her.


The effect was immediate, dramatic, terrifying, and above all else, incredibly arousing.


With a small, nearly inaudible crackling sound, Kristy’s hair pulled free from her head with the most minimal amount of pressure. I continued to move my hands back, every last strand of her silken curls giving up their desperate attempt to cling to her head, and coming free in my hands. I heard Kristy gasp, and then moan in pleasure at the feeling, so I slowed down my hands for her enjoyment. It took about ten seconds for my hands to reach the back of her head and pull the last remnants free of her scalp, but as I did so I was met with a sight I had been waiting nearly three years to see.


Kristy looked up at me with a completely bare head. As I let go of the mass of golden silk I was holding, not a single strand remained on her head, and as she looked up at me with her gorgeous blue eyes, I saw the girl I had met for dinner and fallen in love with at first sight all those years ago. With a hand that was trembling from either sexual energy or long-restrained desire, I reached up and rubbed that bare head, and Kristy cried out in climactic orgasm as my fingers danced over that bare skin. I joined her a second later as we both enjoyed that incredible erogenous zone we had just unearthed in an incredible way that I think even caught both of us by surprise, and then we collapsed in each others arms, panting breathlessly and just looking into each other’s eyes with smiles on our faces from ear to ear.


Being with a woman as beautiful as Kristy had made me well-accustomed to people turning their heads when they walked by, so the next morning as we walked through the airport towards our plane I was certainly used to the phenomenon.


But it wasn’t until about the security checkpoint that I began to realize that the heads weren’t turning to glance at the shockingly beautiful young woman with a head of impossibly long, flowing silk, but the shockingly beautiful woman with a head as SMOOTH as silk.


To be fair, Kristy pulled it off with flair in a pair of casual flip-flops, tiny white denim shorts, and a black spaghetti-strap tank top. She walked with purpose and confidence, a far-cry from the nervous, vulnerable bald woman I had gone on a date with nearly three years ago.


Yet she was still just as beautiful now as she had been then, and I admired her in more ways than I could ever have imagined. After we had stripped her of her crowing glory while making love we had drifted off to sleep, then made love again and again as soon as we woke up. Each time had been as strange and wonderful as I had expected. My hands had snuck up to her nape as they often had a tendency of doing, but instead of sinking into her lush jungle of soft, glistening silk, my fingers had met smooth, almost alien skin, more pale than the rest of her skin from the thick blanket of heavy hair that had protected it from the sun for so long. It had been strange, yet sexual… unfamiliar, yet exotic, and was like rediscovering sex with the woman I loved.


An hour later we were on the plane to Hawaii, and 10 hours after that we were having our first dinner of our trip at a romantic, oceanside restaurant. She looked stunning in a long, flowy, satin dress that glistened in the moonlight the same way her bare head did. While I already found myself missing her long, flowing mane, I had to admit she looked just as good bald. The question was, how long would I have to enjoy it?




“So let me ask you a question,” my husband of barely 24 hours asked as we sat eating our dinner, “what’s next for your hair?”


The question caught me a little off-guard, particularly because I hadn’t even thought of it myself.


“I… I don’t know really…” I replied, then a horrible idea popped into my head, “why, you don’t like it?”


He arched an eyebrow at me and gave me a sardonic smile that immediately relieved my worries, but he went on to alleviate me anyways.


“Oh please,” he said with a chuckle, keep in mind that if it wasn’t for my suggestion, you’d still be sporting that massive mane of curls right now. Besides, I don’t know about you, but that sex last night and this morning was something else.”


“Whew, tell me about it,” I said, remembering the wonderful sensations of Eric’s hands all over my bare head in the throes of passion last night, “so do you like it more like this, or how it was before?”


“To be honest, I really love both,” Eric said, and his eyes told me he was being honest, “I miss that hair of yours something awful, but I love the bare head look, and I finally got to live out the fantasy I told you about. Do you like it more a certain way?”


I thought about it, and realized that I loved both options as well. I certainly loved the free, simple, low-maintenance feel of this bare skin on my head, the way the wind and Eric’s fingers felt on it, and the ease of waking up this morning, willing any new hair growth to simply fall out, and walking out the door in ten minutes as opposed to the usual hour it took to prepare my knee-length waves.


But then another part of me was already missing the feel of those red-gold waves of silk swishing around me as I walked. Another part of me was already missing tying my hair back into a ponytail the size of a man’s leg. Another part of me was already missing the simple act of reaching up and tucking a lock of thick, silky hair behind my ear. Another part of me was already missing the ability to readily run my fingers through my soft eave or fluff up my voluminous mane.


But strangely, I realized that the things I was missing most about my lost locks were the inconveniences it always brought me. I somehow missed my incredibly long hair snagging on random items as I walked. I somehow missed the long period of time I would have normally spent drying and styling my hair this morning. Sure it was super easy to worry about nothing more than a shower and some make-up, but I wasn’t rewarded with the sight of a glorious blanket of shining, golden-brown waves adorning my head and spilling down my body like a magnificent cloak of silk, the ultimate accessory that literally went with any outfit.


But now that magical cape, that magnificent security blanket, was gone, and I was missing it like the last time I had lost it. I loved the feel of my bald head, but now that I had it, I wanted to enjoy it for a while… and then go back.


“I think… I think I’m going to stay bald for our honeymoon, let us both have a chance to enjoy it,” I said and Eric nodded with a smile, “but then I want to grow it back out long again… to my waist… to my butt… maybe even back to my knees!”


Eric smiled and nodded sympathetically.


“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I did this,” I said as I rubbed my bare head, “but I don’t know if it’s something for the long run. Are you OK with that?”


Eric laughed out loud and then looked me in the eye again.


“To be honest, I love bald you, but… well…” he looked cutely sheepish as he tried to formulate what he was abut to say, “this is hard to explain, but… I keep having like… flashes of you with you long hair. I don’t know if it’s temporary or what, but I keep picturing you that way. It’s almost like I have… I don’t know…”


“Hair whiplash?” I finished for him, and he laughed again and nodded.


“Hair whiplash,” he repeated, “that’s a great name for it.


“I’ve been having it too! I keep reaching up for hair that isn’t there anymore, and I still get spooked whenever I see the stranger in the mirror looking back at me.”


“So you’re going to grow it back then?” Eric asked, taking my hand.


“For now, yes,” I replied, “but who knows, someday that urge may grab us again, so and I might be willing to indulge it.”


“I was thinking it would, more reason to enjoy your hair while you have it, or rather… when you WILL have it,” Eric said, then smiled, “in fact, I have an idea of a fun wager. Take it as a… sign.”


“Oh?” I asked, genuinely intrigued at where this was going, “tell me more.”


“Well, you know Ken and Danielle?” he asked and I nodded. Ken and Danielle were two dear friends of our who had just started dating, and Danielle was one of my best friends.


“Of course,” I replied, “you and I both know they’re probably going all the way. Why?”


And he told me.


The rest of the Honeymoon was amazing, and my bald head was a blast to play with for the trip. It started to get sunburned on the last couple of days, so I started wearing a hat more, but the swims were so simple without a cloud of hair swirling around me, the hot days were so much easier without a massive bun of hair against my head, and the love-making was remarkable with that new erogenous zone to take advantage of.


When we got back home I began to grow my hair back as discussed, and it grew with such speed that I was sporting a pretty decent pixie after about a few weeks. But as Eric and my relationship grew deeper and deeper with each passing day, so did my hair back to its former glory.


3 years after the honeymoon




Barely three years after Kristy and I had tied the knot, two of her best friends, Danielle and Ken, followed suit. Kristy and I had been asked to be one of Danielle’s bridesmaids, but Ken had asked his four brothers to be his. I missed having the company of my soulmate by my side during the service, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her looking beautiful in her bridesmaid dress, and I still enjoyed the service. Afterwards while the wedding party left to take pictures, I had wandered the venue with a glass of champagne waiting for my wife.


As the photographer released the groomsmen and bridesmaids after the photos, I made my way to the reception area, looking for Kristy. I found her alone at one of the ornamental brick staircases, her chin in her hand and a look of playful thought on her face.

Kristy had continued to grow out her hair after our honeymoon, and I had watched excitedly as it had grown past her chin… then shoulders… then waist… and even past her butt, all the way to its full former glory at her knees. She had kept it there for nearly the past year, and had recently changed its tone from her normal black to a gorgeous, rich, chocolate brown, normally wearing it loose and either straight, or with some slight waves in it. It looked different than before, but no less remarkable or gorgeous.


She was wearing a gorgeous crimson dress of shining red silk, and her hair had been fashioned into an otherworldly loose braid adorned with several decorative white flowers throughout. She looked just as beautiful as ever, and as she looked down and saw me she stood up, placed her hands on her hips, and flashed me a playful smile that let me know she was ready to live up the night.


“Well hello there handsome,” my wife said as she walked down the steps towards me, her amazing braid swishing softly over her shoulder as she did. She had draped it over her shoulder so that it fell in front of her rather than behind her. I imagined it was a bit more cumbersome for her, but it looked great… which I was guessing was more important for her at the moment. It looked like someone had draped a heavy rope of pure silk over her shoulders, and the way it shined perfectly compliment the brilliant shimmer of her silk dress.


“Hey beautiful,” I said as I scooped her into my arms and pulled her tight for a deep kiss. Even after three years of marriage I still felt as in love with her as the day we were married, “you look dynamite in that dress.”


“Well thank you,” she said as she reached down and smoothed the expensive red silk, “how does the hair look?”


“The hair looks divine,” I said, reaching up and gently stroking the impossibly soft braid, still marveling at how silky and soft the curse had made her hair feel, “the texture never gets old.”


She chuckled as her eyes dropped to her braid, then she began to fiddle with it as well.


“That’s what I was hoping for,” she said with a smile, but I saw a hint of sadness in it.


We were sitting at our table 15 minutes later as the happy couple were introduced and toasts were given, Kristy still playing with her long braid as we listened and ate. Finally it was time to dance, and Kristy and I did so with wild aplomb.


“Seriously, does my hair look good?” Kristy asked as we held each other to a slow number.


“It does babe, I promise,” I reassured her, running my hand over those silken locks reassuringly.


“OK, I believe you,” she said, a hint of nervousness in her voice, “I just want it to look good for… you know.”


“I know babe, I know,” I said as I continued to gently stroke those godly tresses, “by the way… when do you want to… you know?”


She thought for a moment, the look of comical contemplation making me chuckle, then she smiled a smile that was both excited and sad.


“I figured a little earlier so we can get to bed at a decent hour,” she said, “start the process at 9, and it should start to fall out around 10. Sound good?”


“Sounds great,” I replied honestly, “you having any second thoughts?”


“Always, but less than last time we did this,” she replied honestly, then chuckled, “and you remember the sex that followed that time.”


Over three years ago, on our honeymoon, when Kristy had been sporting her signature but short-lived hairless style, we had decided that if Danielle and Ken tied the knot, Kristy would go bald again the night of the wedding.


At the time we both saw it as a somewhat-likely-but-not-ensured scenario, and even if it came to fruition, it would probably take four years to get to, but it had happened… and faster than we had thought. Kristy had planned on growing her hair back to her knees and keeping it that way for a couple of years, but now it looked like she would be parting with her knee-length tresses barely six months after getting back to her favorite length, and she had mixed feelings about it.


On one hand, we were both excited to partake in the adventure that was Kristy’s baldness again, but she was also insanely nervous to once again lose her treasured mane. Even though this was her third time, she was understandably hesitant to erase her pride and joy off the face of the Earth once again.


“God I’m so nervous!” she said as she pulled back slightly to look into my eyes once again, “it’s going… it’s all going…”


“You know, we don’t have to go through with it,” I suggested, “we can just pretend that deal never happened and keep your hair like this forever.”


“Forever and ever?” she said playfully, and I chuckled as I continued to stroke her hair, “it’s tempting… sooooooo tempting.”


“So what do you say?” I asked, pushing the issue, and for a long while she was completely silent.


I loved Kristy with a bald head, and the extra erogenous zone was a blast when we had enjoyed it all those years ago. But that was more or less a one-time fantasy that I had fulfilled on our honeymoon. Now, as I stroked her impossibly silky, impossibly soft, impossibly gorgeous braid, a part of me wished she would keep it.


But the decision was hers… and I wasn’t going to push it if she wanted to lean one way or another.


Finally she sighed and looked up at me with a sad smile, and I knew her hair was doomed.


“I’ve never backed down from a promise,” she said, “and I’m not about to start now.”


“You got it babe,” I said as we continued to dance, “anything I can do to make it better?”


“Just enjoy my hair for as long as you can,” she said as she gently laid her head on my chest, “play with it, stroke it, love it, because it’s going to be a long time before you can again.”


“I can do that babe,” I said as I gently squeezed her massive braid, a braid now living on borrowed time.


It was incredible to me, absolutely incredible, that something so warm, so soft, so full of life, was just a few hours away from being systematically clipped and severed from my wife’s head. I glanced at my watch and say that it was already 8:15. We didn’t have a midnight deadline like we did the last time we went through with this, but I knew that as much as I loved this hair, it was inevitable that this shining braid of the softest silk was just had a few hours left in this world, and would be nothing but a memory before sunrise.




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2 responses to “The Vanishing Hair: Part 3

  1. What a fun story! I’ve binged all three parts of this and you’ve really put something great together. It’s been fun watching these two fall in love, get married, and grow as a couple, all with the backdrop of Kristy’s ever changing locks. Hopefully this isn’t the last we’ll hear from these two!

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