I have not been inspired to write for some time.  Maybe longer then I expected.  But for some reason I just had to share a personal experience with you.  I wish I could share it better then just type.  But even if I could have anticipated what was about to happen and even if I would have tried to snap a picture or two, I don’t think Annie or her boss would have appreciated it, nor would the two people who were involved.  

Annie is my barberette.  She is a sweet Korean woman who works in a barbershop right in the middle of Pride town.  It does not bother me that I go to her to get her to cut my hair.  I don’t care if I am in the middle of the gay community.  Annie does whatever I ask her to do when it comes to giving me a haircut.  And I have not found many barbers who will do what you ask them to do and do it as effectively as Annie does.

So Saturday afternoon I had already determined that it was time for my short summer cut.  And I stopped at the barbershop on Friday to make sure from Annie’s boss that she would be working on Saturday.  “Yes.  She is in at 11:00,” he told me.  “I will let her know you will be coming in.”

So after picking up my medication and dropping off a parcel at the post office, I headed for the barbershop.  All the barbers were busy but as I stepped into the shop, one of the male barbers was just finishing.  “You are next,” he said.  But I shook my head and pointed toward Annie and her chair.  

Annie had already acknowledged my presence.  “One more before you,” she said.  I looked around but I was the only person in the shop.  I nodded and sat down in the waiting area.  I grabbed a magazine and started reading.  

I must have been engrossed in the magazine I was reading because I did not see the two people enter.  But I did hear the voice.  “Sit down!” the voice ordered.  I looked to the side and two females were beside me.  One dressed in leather pants and a tight blouse.  She was holding the end of a leash in her hand.  The other female was a cute looking blonde.  Dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain colored shirt.  The collar of the leash was around her neck.  “Not a word out of you.  You understand?”

The blonde female just nodded her head.  Annie was just finishing her customer and she grabbed a broom and swept up around her chair.  She looked at the two females and she pointed to her chair.  The obvious master pulled the leash and the blonde stood up and walked to the chair.  She sat down in the chair.  Annie looked at the master.  The master spoke: “Crewcut, short at the sides, no scissors, clippers only, shaved neck with a straight razor and cream.”  

Did I hear that right?  A crewcut?  I was going to get to see a female get a crewcut?  Yes I was.

The master came and sat down beside me as I watched Annie fire up her clippers.  Annie pushed the blonde slave’s head down.  The master looked at me.  “Have you ever seen a female get an extreme crewcut?  Shorter then a military cut?”

I looked at her.  “Are you asking me?” I answered.  

“You are the only other person waiting.  So I must be asking you,” she replied.

“Yes I have.  But nothing more then a flat-top on an older woman.  My friend took me to witness his wife getting cut,” I said.  

“How old was the woman?  I bet in her 50’s or more.  Did it turn you on?” she asked.  

“I think that is for me to know and you not to ask,” I said.  “Does what you are doing to your slave turn you on or has she been forced to get this done?”

“I will answer your question if you answer mine,” she said.  

“Okay.  Fair enough.  No it did not turn me on.  It was a nice show but it did nothing for me.  I get more pleasure wring imaginary stories.  But I did witness an oriental female a few weeks ago getting seven inches of long black hair whacked off and the hair dropping to the floor.  That turned me on and made me shudder.  Now my question,” I said.  

“I have not forced my slave to get this done.  She was given a choice, as was I when I was a slave.  My master gave me a choice.  Does it turn me on?  Yes it does as it did when I had my master do it to me,” she answered.  

I looked across to where Annie was standing with the customer in her chair.  Annie had sheared down the neck to almost bare.  You could see the white of the skin.  She was now standing at the side and she was ready to rid the blonde of the hair around her ears.  “You write stories, you said?” the master asked.  “What kind of stories and are they on-line?”

“Yes they are on-line.  I write stories about women getting their hair cut in different situations.  I have also written a couple of personal stories about my fetish and how I have explored it,” I replied.  I grabbed one of my business cards and wrote down a web address.  I also wrote the names I write under.  “Check it out.  Some of the other authors are quite good.”

“Would you ever write a story like what you are seeing today?” she asked.  

“I have in the past but like I said it was imagination.  I have never witnessed anything like this,” I said.  “I don’t mean to be rude but would it be okay if we watched the rest?”

We both turned to watch Annie and her skilled hand.  She had sheared down the side and was now turning the chair around.  We both got to see the pile of blonde hair that was sitting in the lap of the slave.  “Wow, that is a lot of hair,” I said.  “How did she feel when you asked her to have her hair cut?  Did she cry or sob?  Was there any emotion?”

“I was afraid I would lose her.  She actually ran out on me when I told her she had to get it done.  I did not see her for a week.  I was actually going to place an ad for a new slave but she called me and begged if she could come back.  She told me she missed me.  I asked her point blank about her hair and if she would have it cut.  She said she would.  When I told her what I wanted done, her answer was: `If that is what would please you, I will do it.’  So I told her that she had a week to have it done and she would have me taking her in to the barbershop.  So here we are,” she said.  

“What about you when you were the slave?  Did you cry?” I asked.  

The master nodded.  “But I was forced.  I did not have a choice.  My master actually shaved me in the middle of the apartment floor.  And when she was done, she had me sit in the pile of hair until I was itchy all over,” she replied.  “My master actually found my discomfort funny.  I hated her for doing it to me and she did it more then once.  The last time she did it to me, she took me to a salon and had all the women watch as she had a renowned stylist shave me bald to the bone.  That was the last time she ever did it.  I left her a week later.  I swore at that time that I would never hurt my slave like she hurt me and I have never harmed any of my previous slaves.  I have kept my slaves bare but not quite to the bone.  I have only had one of my slaves shaved to the skin but then she asked me to do it and I told her that if that was what she
wanted, I would have it done.”

We continued watching Annie as she was now starting on the crown by shaving away the bangs.  The clippers were flying down the crown.  Annie was now standing behind the chair, pushing the clippers over the top of the slave’s head.

“Would you ever write a story like what I am telling you?” she asked me.  

“I don’t know.  Would you be upset if you saw my story while looking at the site I gave you to look into?” I asked.  

“No, I don’t think I would be disappointed.  Especially since I know that what is written is truth,” she answered.  

“Are you saying you would like me to write a story about what I am seeing today and what you and I have been talking about?” I asked.

“Look.  I am not embarrassed about what I am doing today with my slave and I sure as hell am not embarrassed about talking about it.  I consider this to be a learning experience for my slave.  She learns to be submissive and she sees that I am the one who she is to remain loyal to.  She also learns that I am the one who cares for her.  She also learns that I have certain expectations that are priorities and she is required to fulfill them if she wants to stay with me,” she replied.  

We looked back at the slave.  Annie had put down her clippers and she was dusting the slave’s neck.  She then with a swooping hand removed all the blonde hair from her customer’s lap.  All the blonde hair fell to the floor.  Annie now grabbed a handful of white cream and she spread it along the nape area.  Then grabbing a straight razor, she flicked it open and stroked it across a thick belt.  Annie looked at the master.  “Do you want me to shave up around the ears too?” she asked.  

“Yes,” the master answered.  So Annie spread the cream around the ears as well.  Tilting the slave’s head to the side, Annie started stroking the stubble away.  I know for a fact that Annie has a steady hand because I have had her give me a hot lather shave a number of times.  I kept watching the slave.  Through the entire process, she had shown no emotion.  I knew that she had resigned herself to having this done and she obviously knew that if she showed any emotion, it would possibly lead to a scolding from her master.

“May I ask one last question?” I looked to the master.  She nodded.  I swallowed hard.  I decided to test it.  “If she would have shown any emotion or if she would have cried during the shaving, what would you have done to her?  Would she have been punished?”

“I can’t give you an answer.  In the past only one of my previous slaves cried and I made her sleep in the shed for three days.  I was angry because she did agree to the haircut.  She knew what she had agreed to.  I know when I cried the first time, my master beat me.  I slept in the basement for an entire week.  I was only let out to go to the washroom and to do the most humiliating tasks my master could think up.  After a week, I begged for forgiveness and she let me out of the basemen,” she answered.  “But I have never done anything to inflict scars or bleeding at any cost.  I could easily do it but I won’t let my anger go that far.  I have spanked my slaves and I have put them on the “X” in my dungeon.  I have used paddles and whips but I am careful with my slaves.”  

Annie was now shaving a second time, closer to the skin.  It did not take much longer.  Finally Annie wiped off the remaining cream and she undid the back of the cape.  She pulled it off the slave and shook it out.  She folded it over the arm of the barber’s chair and the slave sat there until her master got up and grabbed the leash end.  She pulled it gently and the slave got out of the chair.  The master placed her hand over her clippered head.  “Ah.  Very nice.  I like that.  Excellent job.  Thank you,” she said.  “Say thank you to your new barber.”  The master pulled the leash.  In a low voice the slave did what she was told.  The master took out a twenty-dollar bill and gave it to Annie.
The master looked at me one last time.  I had a smile on my face.  “So will I see a story from you on this site?” she asked.  I nodded my head.  She nodded her head.  “I will look for it.”  She rubbed her slave’s head.  “Feels amazing.  Bend your head so this nice gentleman can rub your head,” she said as she pulled the leash.  Her slave bent her head down.  The master looked at me.  “I guess you at least deserve this.  Go ahead.  I give you permission.”  

I quickly rubbed the head of her slave.  It was really close.  You could just see the stubble that was left.  The neck was totally void of hair and the ears were also clean.  “Thanks,” I said.  The master nodded as she walked to the door.  

Annie had walked to the wall and grabbed the broom again and she had swept all the blonde hair to the corner.  I walked over to the barber’s chair and I sat down.  Annie grabbed the cape flicked it open, let it settle on my shoulders, grabbed a neck strip and pulled the cape up over my shoulders.  I settled back and told Annie what I wanted done.                 

Author: clippedandsnipped
Copyright protected under international copyright laws c 2006
Copyright registered to JCWP DESIGN SERVICES r 2000

As this is a true story, it is NOT to be downloaded by anyone without expressed permission from the author.  Copyright laws protect the master, her slave and the barberette as well as the identity of the barbershop.  Do not abuse the privilege of reading this story.  I have submitted it here because I trust this site to protect my work and honor my request.