Tabitha woke with a start, her heart racing and her cheeks moist with tears. Feeling the soft tear drops slowly running from her blue eyes, she sighed wearily to herself and sat up in her bed, the sheets falling away to reveal the gentle curve of her breasts. A flowing shock of platinum hair fell across her forehead and into her deep blue eyes. Tousled, luxuriously long hair fell around her shoulders in gentle ringlets and cascaded down her back, softly caressing the bed as she lounged on it. Tabitha wiped away a lingering tear and reached across the bed for a tissue from the nightstand. It was all just a bad dream, she thought to herself as she dabbed the tissue on her cheeks. No, it wasn’t just another bad dream…it was *the* dream — the one that had been plaguing her incessantly …ever since… John had ended their relationship. A tear trickled slowly down her alabaster cheek as she remembered it…as the hurt returned.

It seemed like only yesterday, yet she knew it had been almost six month ago. Tabitha had no idea why it had ended, it had hit her like a lightning bolt out of the blue. He had ended it with little explication, with little justification.

And more painfully, he had done it over the phone. It was hearing that coldly distant voice on the phone that night that had hurt the most — it was if John had become some anonymous stranger to her. But it hadn’t ever been that way before — she knew him as well as she knew herself. She loved him with her very soul. But…he had as much as told her that he didn’t want to know her.

Getting over him had not been easy, and the dreams were not helping her to heal. The dreams…no, they were nightmares, they were like some cruel trick played on her conscious mind by her subconscious. She couldn’t understand the whys of it, only that the nightmares came almost every night. And it was the same dream, replayed over and over and over and over again….the night that he had broken her heart, crushed her spirit, wounded her very soul. It was a pain in her very soul that she was unsure would ever heal. Tabitha slowly rose from her bed and shivered involuntarily in the early morning chill. Grabbing a heavy terrycloth bathrobe from the foot of the bed, she wrapped it around herself and went over to shut an open window. Stifling the urge to yawn yet again, she padded into the adjoining bathroom, still feeling the sadness. As she wandered in, she felt a touch of anger. She always felt the anger after the sadness. And that anger was always directed at John. It was his fault that she was hurt, it was his fault that she was sad all the time, it was his fault that she was seemingly unable to pick up and go on with her life. It was all his fault, and that made her mad.

“Bastard” she swore in a near whisper. She sometimes still felt the urge to call him — to scream her rage at him. But she hadn’t and she knew she never would. She didn’t really want to talk to him, anyway. She only wanted to hurt him back, the way he had hurt her, but there was nothing she could say to him now…there was nothing she wanted to say to him. The anger helped her to cope, but it would never make the pain go away.

Tabitha sighed as she allowed the bathrobe to fall open, revealing the hint of her breasts. She gazed forlornly into the mirror at her reflection. She looked at her face, though she almost no longer recognized the face that stared back at her.

“It’ s like you’ve given up on yourself, Tabitha.” she said to herself. Tabitha was a beautiful woman, looking much younger than her thirty years of age. Her azure eyes were alert, yet seemed a little cloudy — maybe from the tears –but she suspected it was because she had quit caring. Her platinum tresses fell across her shoulders and down her back. Her skin was pristine, alabaster, like the skin of a priceless porcelain China doll. Standing almost five feet eight inches tall, with a lithe and agile frame, Tabitha was a very attractive woman, though she didn’t think of herself as being such.

It had been her smile that had first attracted John, or so she had been led to believe. He had later admitted that it was her beautiful hair that had drawn him to her.

“Shit!” Tabitha swore, driving a clenched fist angrily against the bathroom vanity. “Why can’t I quit thinking about that son of a bitch?” A lone tear trickled from her eye once more.

She sighed a moment, wiping away that tear while trying to soothe her anger….to no avail. Looking into the mirror again, she was taken by a somewhat….absurd thought.

“My hair…” she muttered. “I…it’s….why?”

Tabitha ran her fingers through her extremely long mane and smiled wryly…”He loved my hair…” she began almost unemotionally “I hate him…I hate my hair.” It suddenly seemed so obvious to her. Changing her hair might…no, would… help her to forget about John….the bastard.

Tabitha smiled to herself at the thought. Whenever she thought about him, she now seemed to be adding ‘the bastard’ after his name. “John the bastard.” she giggled. It had a ring to it.

“Screw you, John the bastard”

She knew what she needed…no, what she wanted to do. Tabitha smiled wryly as she slipped out of her bathrobe and stepped into the chilly shower.

* * * * * *

Tabitha peered out of her car window, into the window of the barber shop. She really wasn’t sure if this was what she wanted to do. Maybe she should go to her regular hairstylist?

“No….” she muttered to herself. “…she’d just talk you out of this.” She smiled strangely to herself, realizing that she really didn’t want to be talked out of it.

It felt so strange, her even considering what she wanted to do. It seemed so… impulsive. Maybe that impulsiveness was what excited her so? Tabitha turned her attention once more to the interior of the barber shop. It seemed so…antiseptic, so…cold. It was not like the hair salon that she normally went to, with its ferns and brass and glitz. With its black and white checkerboard tile floor and cheap plastic seats, it was very similar to the place where her father had gotten his haircut for years when she was a girl. Maybe it was that memory of her father that had spurned her to come here? She saw a lone barber relaxing in his barber chair, reading the paper. She had to do it — she had to get out of her car and walk in. As she collected up her car keys, she caught a glimpse of someone entering the barber shop ahead of her. “Damn.” she thought to herself. She hadn’t wanted to wait inside, she wanted to walk in and sit right down in that barber chair. Now, someone else had beat her inside, she had no choice. She knew she couldn’t just wait in the car, either. If someone else walked in ahead of her, she might never go through with it.

It would take a lot of courage on her part to go in there and wait. She was determined, resolute, as she got out of her car and closed the door behind her. She almost reflexively pulled up the collar of her leather jacket as she strode quite deliberately to the door of the barber shop. Taking a deep breath, she grasped the door handle and pulled it open…and stepped inside.

The barber looked up momentarily from his work and smiled pleasantly at her. “Howdy.”

“Uh, hi.” Tabitha replied as she casually sat down, not bothering to remove her jacket.

Her blue eyes darted about the barber shop nervously. She spotted a pile of Field and Stream magazines and some comic books near where she sat, there was a dust bunny in the corner on the floor behind the door. She noticed several very large mirrors hanging on the walls across from the huge leather and iron barber chair. She had heard the clippers being used, but had not wanted to look at them….had not wanted to watch the barber work. She couldn’t help herself, however. She looked at the barber, spied the clippers as they were run up the neck of the man in the chair. The roaring buzz filled the shop, making her more than a little apprehensive. Was this what she really wanted to do?

The man in the barber ch
air glanced curiously at the beautiful young woman who was trying not be obvious about watching him get his hair cut. He smiled at her a bit.

Tabitha gasped to herself, realizing that she was staring at him. She reached over and grabbed one of the Field and Stream magazines, trying to read. She couldn’t concentrate, however, as she kept glancing up over the pages at the man getting a flattop. As she stole yet another peek at what was going on, she found herself feeling warm…hot….even excited. She was at a loss to rationalize it.

The barber continued to shave the flattop…as Tabitha could only watch, as if entranced, as if under a spell. Tabitha crossed her fingers and hoped that no one else would enter the barber shop before she could get into the chair. It could be awkward, she knew, as no one expected a woman to be in a barber shop, much less to be actually getting a hair cut. She was nervous enough as it was, and if someone else walked in, she just might chicken out. And she didn’t want to be tempted to chicken out.

At that moment, the door of the barber shop opened and another man entered, to sit down a couple of seats from Tabitha.

“Shit.” Tabitha cursed underneath her breath. “I knew I shouldn’t have thought about that.” she thought, thinking that she had jinxed herself. As the conversation changed to football, Tabitha managed to tune out the discussion — she knew nothing about sports, and even if she had, she knew she wouldn’t have said anything. She wasn’t in the mood to talk. She wanted to get this thing over with.

Several minutes later, the barber finished the man’s haircut, shut off the clippers, placed them aside, and brushed off his neck before removing the cape from his neck. With the barber chair now vacant, the other man beside Tabitha rose and started for it….before Tabitha stopped him. She jumped to her feet and smiled shyly. “Um, I think I’m next?”

The man smiled offhandedly and backed away from the barber chair, back to his seat. “You are?” the older barber chuckled. “Are you sure about that, Miss?” Nodding silently, Tabitha hung her jacket up on a coat hook behind the door.

“I’m pretty sure, I think.” she replied as she headed for the barber chair, her flowing platinum hair swaying rhythmically back and forth as she walked. Tabitha sat down in the chair, feeling its leathery softness on her behind. It reminded her very much of the dentist chair when she was but a girl.

“You’re really sure?” the barber again asked, leaning closer to her ear, making sure that he was heard through her thick hair.

Tabitha nodded again. “Oh yeah, I’m really sure.”

The barber spread the cape across the front of her, trying to get it beneath her hair so that he could fasten it. Tabitha pulled her hair up, allowing him to do so.

“Now, then. Exactly what are we going to do here? Take off a little from the bottom?” he asked as he reached over for a seldom used hair brush. “I’m not really used to cutting women’s hair.” he explained as he started to brush her hair, which fell across her shoulders and over the back of the chair. Tabitha smiled at him as she looked before her at the reflection in the mirror.

“Don’t worry, I trust you with my hair.”

He picked up a pair of shears and looked again at her. “Just an inch, then?” Tabitha shook her head as her heart started to race. “No, take all of it.” she replied in a near whisper.

The man who was waiting glanced curiously up from his newspaper. “eh?” the barber shrugged, craning his neck to hear better.

“Shave it all off.” she stated with finality.

“Shave your head?” the barber gasped incredulously.

Tabitha nodded.

“But…I’ve … umm…. never done that….at least not for a woman.” he stammered nervously.

Tabitha glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled reassuringly. “But you have shaved men, haven’t you?”

He nodded finally.

“Just think of me as just another guy having his head shaved.” Tabitha suggested.

The barber shrugged helplessly and forced a shallow smile. “If that’s what you want, Miss.” he sighed.

Tabitha nodded one last time. “It’s what I want.”

She could feel him brushing her hair once more, and she tried to commit the feeling to memory, for she knew that her hair was as good as gone now. She could feel the brush running over the top of her head slowly as the barber brushed her hair for what seemed an eternity. Looking in the mirror directly across from her, she could watch him as he worked.

He reached for the heavy black clippers that he had just used on the last man’s flattop. They were big, almost too big, Tabitha thought. Cylindrical and long, she amusingly likened them to a penis. There were certain similarities and she was starting to feel a little excited as she saw them in his hands. Why had she not shaved her head earlier? Especially if it was going to turn her on like this?

She saw him remove the guide from the silvery iron teeth of the clippers, and she knew that it would soon begin. She could feel her heart begin to beat quicker in her breast, as her loins began to burn…

A near silent ‘click’ was followed by the dull buzzing sound of the clippers as the came to life. The buzz sounded more like a roar to Tabitha when she first heard it – it certainly hadn’t sounded that loud to her when she was waiting….had it?

As if seeking one last tacit approval from her, the barber looked into her blue eyes one last time, all the while the roaring clippers were held at the ready. Tabitha smiled an infectious smile and nodded at him.

It began with that. He started at her left ear, grasping a handful of her long platinum locks and pulling them slightly back away from her head as he placed the roaring clippers against her temple….and slowly raised them, running it up through her hair. Tabitha closed her eyes momentarily, feeling the gently pulsing blades against her flesh. She felt so very hot, so excited, she was sure she would come before it was over…. She glanced quickly at the reflection in the mirror, just in time to see several long locks of hair fall away from her head in the barber’s hand. She could see her pale exposed scalp. It looked so strange to be without hair on one relatively small part of her head, yet have long platinum tresses elsewhere. Dropping the hair onto the floor, the barber again glided the clippers up and over the area he had just shorn, as if making sure that he hadn’t missed any. The nearly invisible stubble of her platinum hair did nothing to hide the pallid scalp that was starting to be revealed.

Tabitha turned her head slightly to see her newly exposed head. She could feel her excitement continue to rise. Again, the barber grasped a handful of her hair and pulled it away from her ears, before gliding the clippers up through it. He dropped several locks of eighteen inch long mane carelessly onto the floor.

Tabitha, meanwhile watched the barber work on her hair as if she were mesmerized. She was. She couldn’t stop watching him shave her, it was turning her on almost, if not more than sex. She could now feel the strangely sensual coolness on her exposed scalp….she could hear the droning buzz of the clippers as they stimulated not only her scalp, but her passions. She could feel the barber lifting up the hair at the nape of her neck. She could feel the clippers gently run up the back of her head, all the way up to her crown. She was almost in an idyllic, tranquil Nirvana state. She felt so peaceful, so relaxed, yet also so stimulated, so erotic, so hot. She knew that this was the right thing to do, she had no doubts in her mind that shaving her head was the best thing for her. This event was destined, it was fated. And it was making her horny as hell. Several minutes later, Tabitha could see the right side of her head as naked as the left. She glanced momentarily outside the barber shop, to where a small group of people were standing around gawking at the young woman in the barber chair having her long hair shaved. She stuck her tongue out at them playfully.
Finally having shaved the sides and back of her head, the barber brought the clippers up to her forehead hairline, where he brought them straight back, shaving the top of her head.

Tabitha felt the clippers atop her head, saw the electrical cord dangling before her blue eyes, felt the tickle of hair as it fell down the back of her head and neck. A long lock of hair fell into her lap suddenly, and she smiled wryly as she stared at it lying there.

Several times over the top of her head, and he was seemingly through. He took a moment to run the clippers one last time over the totality of her head, once more making sure he had, indeed, completely shaven her head. As the clippers ran over her head one last time, Tabitha felt it coming, felt the fire peak, felt ….and it happened, almost before she realized it. She smiled slightly and felt herself relax at last in the chair just as he shut off the clippers.

Setting the clippers aside, the barber grabbed a mirror from the counter behind him and held it up for Tabitha to look at her reflection. “How’s that?” he asked with a heavy sigh.

Tabitha reached up and felt her head at last. She ran her fingers gently along her denuded head, feeling the velveteen platinum stubble playfully. It felt so very strange, yet so very very neat. She looked closely in the mirror as she continued to feel her head.

“Finish it.” she said to the barber, feeling that this experience was far from over. “It has to be smooth.”

The barber chuckled a bit as he turned and reached for a handful of hot lather. Tabitha could feel the wonderfully hot lather as he applied it to her scalp, as he massaged it in. She felt her passions rising yet again when she thought of what was to follow.

He sharpened the straight razor quickly by honing it on the leather strap on the chair. He started on top of her head, slowly scraping the stubble from her head with the blade. Tabitha saw her scalp being exposed even further and she felt it coming again….felt her loins burning….

He moved to the left side of her head and continued to shave her. He gently pushed her head forward to give him a better view of the nape of her neck. As he shaved up the back of her head, she felt it happen again, felt her passion peak, felt her body spasm for a brief moment…

A long moment later, he was finished. The barber set aside the razor and dried off Tabitha’s scalp. Again, he held the mirror out for her to look into. This time, she could not even see the stubble. She smiled at her reflection and reached out to touch her scalp once more. It felt strangely cool to the touch, a little damp. It felt so very good, she immediately fell in love with the hairstyle.

“Now then, I’ve pretty much done all I can do, miss.” he smiled as he removed the cape and allowed Tabitha to stand. Tabitha rose to her feet, still feeling the back of her smooth scalp, still reveling in the new sensations, finally starting to feel good about herself. She glanced casually down at the large pile of platinum hair at her feet. “My goodness….did all that really come off my head?” she thought to herself as she looked back at the barber. “What do I owe you for all that work?” she asked, reaching for her jacket. The barber shook his head. “This one’s on the house, miss.” he replied with a smile.

She glanced back at him incredulously. “Huh? Seriously?” “I never could charge a lady, no matter how much work I do.” he nodded. Tabitha smiled at him once more.

“Thank you very much. You are very kind.”

“You’re welcome, miss.” he replied, watching her don her coat and pull up her leather collar. As she was ready to depart, he stopped her. He bent over to pick up several locks of her shorn hair. “Before you leave, you might want this.” He held the hair out to her.

Tabitha took the lock of her hair from him and looked at it for a brief moment. She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, dropping the hair back on the floor. “Nah, I don’t want it. I certainly have no more use for it.” she smiled slightly as she turned and strode out of the barber shop. “But thanks for offering it.”

She glanced back in the barber shop from outside, looking one last time at the barber as he swept up her shorn tresses. She looked once more at the hair, and turned away finally.

“No, I don’t need it…not anymore.”