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Retrenched! I walked back to my desk, stunned. For nearly ten years I’d worked as a legal secretary for a solicitor in a nearby small town, and he’d been very happy with me. We got on well. But. small fish get swallowed by big fish, and my boss had sold his business to a bigger firm. Our office was going to be closed; he was going to move to Birmingham and take a partnership in the new firm. I was welcome to join him.or be retrenched.

I didn’t want to move. My husband Josh and I were happy where we were in our sleepy village. He commuted daily to London, which wasn’t too bad, almost an hour and a half on the train each way, during which time he worked on his notebook pc anyway.

I discussed it with Josh that night. “Realistically, Ella, you may as well take the money and run. We’ve paid a lot off our mortgage, and you’ll get a decent lump sum if you leave.  Have some time off while you look for another job. Or open that barber shop you’re always dreaming about!” he grinned.

“Don’t give me ideas!” I grinned back. Josh looked completely different now he was growing his hair back. I hadn’t shaved it in three months, so we could both enjoy the day it was going to get buzzed short and then, more than likely, shaved to extinction again. He did look very good with hair; but then again he did look very good bald as well.

So I accepted the retrenchment offer, and two weeks later left my office for the last time with a cardboard box full of my own stuff and a personal gift from my old boss, a huge, simple glass vase that would look wonderful on my sideboard filled with flowers.

I was free from work, free to think about what I wanted to do with my life. For a few months, anyway.

“Time to celebrate,” Josh said that night, pulling a bottle of Pol Roger out of his briefcase. “Ella’s new life begins now.” He kissed me on the lips. “Fancy giving me a buzzcut as part of the celebration?”

I stroked his thick dark hair. Shame to see it all go, but. “Oh yes, I’d love to!” The thought of pushing my clippers through it and seeing it tumble to the floor was overpowering.

We sat in the living room and had a glass of champagne first, and the bubbles ran straight to my head in a delightful frisson. “I’ve had another idea as part of the celebration.and my new life. I don’t have to be a polite legal secretary any more. At least not for a while. Why don’t I get a buzzcut too?” I said slowly, lifting up my own brown locks and letting them flop again, where they just touched the tops of my shoulders.

Josh didn’t say anything. He’d accepted my hair fetish without a whimper, because having his own hair buzzed and shaved turned him on, too. But he’d never suggested I cut mine short. Nor had I. Until now.

He stroked my hair gently. “You want to cut it all off?”

I nodded. “Do you hate the idea?”

“Does it matter if I do?”

“You hate it.”

“No, I’d just never thought you’d suggest it. But I know you, you’ll cut it even if I do hate it.” He cupped my face in his hands. “Remember when you clipped your cousin Lucy’s hair a few months ago? Buzzed it to a number two? And put that makeup on her and she looked really hot? I wondered then.what you’d look like with that haircut. And that makeup, really. You’ve got a beautiful face, Ella. If you want to buzz your hair.I’m all for it.”

My heart leaped. Oh yes, I’d enjoyed clipping Lucy’s hair off to a neat buzzcut. It was the first time I’d cut a woman’s hair so short. Had I been a little envious of Lucy’s experience? Of course! “Oh, darling! I’m so glad! There’s just one thing.”

“Yes?” Josh pushed my hair away from my face and muttered, “You’ll look stunning with it really short.”

“.I want YOU to cut it off.”

Josh’s eyes widened. “Me? I’ve never cut hair though.”

“It’s not that hard, darling. You put the guard on the clippers and push them all over my head, and my hair gets cut off to a number two buzz.” I had a hard time keeping my voice steady; I was getting severely turned on just talking about it.

Josh stood up and took my hand, pulling me to my feet. “Come on, then. Looks like we’ll be having a late dinner tonight.”

We stood awkwardly in the kitchen, the haircutting kit on the table. “Who wants to go first?” I finally said.

“You buzz me,” he suggested, “so I can feel what you’re doing and I’ll do the same.” As if he hadn’t been able to feel it dozens of times before, but then it HAD been a while.

So I caped Josh up, combed his wavy hair for the last time, and dove the clippers into it, starting at his forehead and drawing them back to his crown in a merciless sweep that made me wet between the legs.  A lush number two pelt lay in their wake. Josh grinned.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“So are you.” I could almost see his erection under the cape.  Relentlessly I sheared the top of Josh’s scalp to stubble, then began to scalp the sides. “Hmm, maybe I’ll leave you with a mullet,” I mused.

“Don’t you dare – or no haircut for you tonight!” Josh threatened, rubbing the top of his head.

I pushed his head down roughly – dominatrix Barber Ella, a role that made us both feel hot – and revved the clippers up his neck and into the shining waves. In five short minutes I’d reduced his hair to a buzz and three months’ growth lay on the floor and his lap.  Taking the guard off I cleaned up his hairline and neck, and trimmed his sideburns. Josh rubbed his head in the way men always do after a haircut and made satisfactory noises. “All done, sir. Anything for the weekend?”

“Yes,” said Josh. “Your hair. I’ll take it all off!” And with that he grabbed me. I squealed in surprise and pleasure as he spun me around and sat me on the chair, ripping off the cape and fastening it around my neck. Carefully, trying not to pull, he lifted my hair out from under the cape and lay it over the top.

“Shall I cut it shorter first with scissors or something?” he wondered.

“That could be fun,” I agreed. “Hack it off any old how to about an inch or two long. That’ll make it easier to clip short.”  My heart was racing. I couldn’t believe I was going through with this.  My underpants were wet with longing and excitement and I wriggled in the chair.

Josh stood in front of me, his erection almost at eye level. “Say goodbye to that hair, Ella.” Now it was his turn to play nasty barber.

He ran his hands up the side of my head in front of my right ear, and gripped my hair so hard it actually hurt, pulling it taut with one hand. I watched the scissors come closer, and then they were closing on my hair with a lovely crunching sound, that dry haircut noise, and the pulling stopped as Josh hacked away and the first locks came free.

“Fuck, that’s short!” He said wonderingly, looking from the cut hair he still held to whatever he’d left on my head.

“Good,” I said encouragingly, wanting more, more, more! Once again he grabbed a hank of hair and sawed into it, yanking my head around. He put on what he fondly imagined to be an East End accent. “So, young lady, short `aircut is it? Righ’, you want a short `aircut you’ll get one.”

I giggled.

“No gigglin’ in my chair, girl. Or I’ll cut it all off to a number two.”

I giggled louder, at his accent more than anything. Josh grabbed a handful of hair from the top of my head now, and I felt and heard the scissors rasp through it. “Righ’, it’s all comin’ off then.”

He moved to the back, dragged my hair into a high ponytail, and pulled it tight. Crunch, skricck, crunch. My head bobbed back and forth as my husband severed my hair, his breathing ragged. With one last triumphant crunch he threw the clump of hair onto my lap. There was a lot of it. I wriggled with excitement.

I still had long hair left on one side of my head, and Josh made short work of it, lifting it up and snipping into it seemingly at random. I had an idea that the whole lot looked very uneven, which turned me on even mo
re. It HAD to get cut really short to make it tidy.

Josh put down the scissors. “God, you look a fright!” He picked up the hand mirror and gave it to me, and I burst out laughing. My hair was a range of lengths between an inch and three inches, cut in short stubby stumps.

“Oh Josh, put it out of its misery! And put me out of mine!”

When he turned the clippers on my heartrate doubled. This was it; my first buzzcut. I watched the clippers approach my forehead in what appeared to be slow motion, then I couldn’t see the blades any more as they were delving into my hair with an electric howl.

If you’ve never had a buzzcut it’s almost impossible to describe the emotions and sensations. Fear, to a degree, because it’s your hair and you’ve never had it this short, and you can’t hide behind it any more. Excitement, because it’s what you want. Physically, it’s a throbbing vibration running over your sensitive scalp. The sum total is haircut nirvana.

I closed my eyes and groaned, and abandoned myself to the mix of sensations.

“Oh, Ella!”

“What?” I opened one suspicious eye.

“It’s so short.” He stroked the shorn bit wonderingly. “So much softer than mine too.” He leaned over and kissed the path he’d clipped, and his lips felt much warmer on my skin now my hair was buzzed.

Then the clippers were on my head again whizzing through the ragged scissor cut, taking it all down to a mere quarter of an inch. I knew he’d clipped the top to perfection; he’d gone over it at least three times.

Obligingly I leaned my head to one side so he could clip all around my ear and send clumps of hair onto my knees.  My scalp started to feel cold where he’d clipped it.

Josh’s hand was warm on the top of my head as he pushed my head to the other side and began denuding it too.  Warmth emanated from the busy clippers as he buzzed me over and over.

“Maybe I should leave YOU with a mullet!” he whispered into my now naked ear.

“Oh, you love me. You wouldn’t be so cruel.”  I bent my head forward and gasped as the clippers touched the nape of my neck; so sensitive. They seemed to travel forever up my head until they met my buzzed crown.  Four more passes saw the last lock of hair shortened relentlessly.

“What do I do with your hairline?” Josh wondered.

“Leave it, I think.  You might make a mess of it and have to shave me bald. Perhaps another day?” I giggled.

“You’re giving me ideas.” But he switched the clippers off and undid the cape. My hands sprung unasked to my head, and I rubbed it automatically as Josh did after his own haircut.

Oh, it felt wonderful! I almost came in the kitchen chair.

“Look.”  Josh handed me the mirror. A startlingly beautiful buzzed woman in her early thirties (who suddenly looked about 21 again) gazed back at me. My eyes looked huge and my face naked and vulnerable without the curtain of hair at each side. Even when I’d had long hair pulled into a tight ponytail it never looked quite like this. I tilted my head this way and that; my hair was so short that my scalp gleamed through it. I looked dangerous and sexy. Which was exactly how I felt.

Without a word Josh took my hand and started to lead me upstairs. Oh yes, sex tonight would be incredible, and I had a hunch that dinner just wouldn’t be late, it simply wouldn’t happen.

We’d reached the top of the stairs when the phone started to ring. Josh turned.

“Leave it,” I said.

So we left it. Stripping my clothes off, I heard the familiar voice of my now ex-boss on the answering machine. “Er, Ella. It’s Simon. Slight problem. Seems I might need you in the office for another week, just to really clear things up. Are you able to come in? I can pay you casual rates. Give me a call.”

I stood in the bedroom wearing nothing but my high heels, earrings and buzzed hair. I looked like a highly illegal secretary. Josh stroked my head, my newly mown hair, and I started to laugh.

The end.
c 2005 BarberElla

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