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Suzy finished getting ready and looked at the clock. 6:30. Jack would be arriving in half an hour. She sat down on the couch, and thought about what she was about to do. It was an act of submission. That’s what this had all been about, although it had all seemed surreal until now. She’d never had a relationship like this one.

two weeks earlier, they had been sitting in a restaurant. They were enjoying an elegant meal, as they always did on these dates.They were at the point in their relationship where the lovemaking to follow was inevitable, and yet still new enough to be a constant exploration. Jack had fallen silent, staring at Suzy. She assumed he was thinking of the inevitable, but wasn’t sure. Finally she asked. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He smiled and shook his head. "Never mind." She stared back, willing to wait him out. Finally he asked: "Have you ever thoughtof cutting your hair?" "No." And that was the end of the conversation. But two days after that brief exchange, she called the salon and made an appointment.

She could hear the clock ticking. 6:35. What would she say to him? She was going to give herself to him in a way she couldn’t have fathomed just a few weeks earlier. It was an exquisite tension, this waiting. The box sat on the table. It was beautifully wrapped. The thought of handing it to him was exciting her. The simple act of handing him the box.

The same feeling of excitement had washed over her as she walked down the sidewalk ten days earlier. She walked very quickly, since she was already several minutes late for her appointment. She saw the neon sign of the salon, and felt the lump grow in her throat. She opened the door and walked in. Mary, her stylist, invariably ran late, but today she was idly chatting with somebody at the front desk. She smiled at Suzy "You’re early!" Suzy was a bit taken aback, and looked at her watch. "I thought I was supposed to be here ten minutes ago!" "No, I mean you’re early. You’ve been coming every seven weeks like clockwork for years. I just saw you four weeks ago. What gives?" "I’m ready for a change!" Suzy blurted out, forgetting the words she had been rehearsing in her mind all day. "What are you thinking? Color? Perm?" "No, shorter. I’m ready to go shorter." Mary grinned widely. "Now you’re talking! Let’s get some books and see…" "NO! No books. Just do what you think will look good. I trust you." There, it was out. Her blonde hair was now in the hands of fate, and Mary. Mary’s grin turned mischievous as she escorted Suzy back to the sink. "So I can do whatever I want to this?" Mary asked, running her fingers through Suzy’s thick hair.Suzy swallowed hard as Mary pulled slightly at her hair. "Just make me look good."

Suzy leaned back into the sink, and felt the warm water on her scalp. Mixed up emotions ran through her. It seemed surreal that she was actually going to go through with this. She had always found haircuts quite stressful, even knowing that Mary would only trim an inch, as she always did. Suzy always feared that, trapped under the cape, she would be powerless if Mary started cutting more. Yet here she was aroused at the same loss of control she had always feared. Quickly the shampooing was over and she was led to the chair. Her knees felt weak. She climbed into the chair, and surrendered to the cape. Mary let Suzy’s hair loose from the towel, and combed it out. Suzy took some comfort in the wetness of her blonde hair. It didn’t show its thick beauty this way, and so perhaps it wouldn’t seem so bad as it was cut. Mary stood to the right of the chair, and asked Suzy if she was ready. She couldn’t speak, so she simply nodded as her eyes locked on the approaching shears. Five inches of hair fell with a plop on the nylon cape. Her excitement gave way to nausea. Suzy closed her eyes, and listened to the sound of the scissors taking off her hair. The occasional stray hair tickled her, but she kept her eyes closed. After an eternity, the cutting stopped, and the sound of the blow-dryer enveloped her. When she finally opened her eyes, she didn’t recognize her own reflection.

She opened her eyes and looked at the clock. 6:45. Had time stopped entirely?

A week earlier, on the Friday night after her haircut, Jack had arrived promptly at 7. When she had opened the door, he was standing there with flowers, which he promptly dropped on the floor. His hands reached up to her head. The thick blonde hair that had reached halfway to her breasts, now fell in soft layers, barely covering her nape. He couldn’t keep his hands out of her hair, and they began their lovemaking right there in the hallway.They never made it to the restaurant. It was only after they finished, sweaty and exhausted in her bed, that Jack confided in her.

The clock said 6:59. Suzy began to have doubts, just as the doorbell rang. She looked at the box on the table, so carefully wrapped. Where would this lead?

The nervousness that had accompanied Suzy to the salon the week before was gone by Tuesday. This was purely an erotic adventure as she walked down the street.

She opened the door, and the scene from the previous week repeated. The flowers landed on the floor, and Jack’s hands reached for her head. After a passionate kiss, she led him to the bed, picking up the box as she walked past the table.

Thankfully, the shop had been empty when she arrived, and she was able to explain in private exactly what she wanted. It was an unusual request, but no questions were asked.

Suzy climbed on top of Jack, and they made love. She picked up the box from her nightstand and offered it to him. He refused it. "You open it," he whispered. She slowly untied the ribbon.

This time, Suzy had welcomed the loss of control as the barber covered her with the cape. She touched herself gently as the guide was attached and the clippers switched on. Starting just in front of her right ear, the clippers ran up her head, raining down hair into her lap. Her eyes widened at the strip of scalp now visible through the short blonde hair. Again she stroked herself gently as the clippers approached, this time passing over the top of her ear towards the back. Then again, and again. In just a few minutes, the sides of the crewcut began to take shape. Blonde piles accumulated on her lap, and shoulder. Still more fell to the floor. Then the clippers were placed on her forehead, and run straight back, the pitch changing under the load. This too was repeated several times. In what seemed like the blink of an eye she found her completely clippered head sticking out from the cape. Total surrender. Her blonde locks lay in piles everywhere.

She held the box in her hand as the pace of their lovemaking quickened. Slowly, she opened the box, and casually tossed the cover aside. When she, and he, could stand no more, she reached in. When her hand emerged, it was clutching a handful of her thick blonde locks, which she gave to her lover as they climaxed together.

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