Home » Language » English » Velma And Daphne

clipper-banner
Our Reader Score
[Total: 3    Average: 2.7/5]

It was late in the evening when the large panel van, decorated with a psychedelic pattern and large letters reading MYSTERY MACHINE, pulled into the motel parking lot. Out of the doors came five figures, two males, two females, and a large brown Great Dane with black spots down its back. With tiredness evident from a day of ghost busting, the five shuffled up to the front door. They were fortunate to have found a motel in town that still had two rooms vacant and took in pets. Unfortunately, those two rooms were at opposite ends of the building.

Gathering up their key cards, the two young women headed down the hallway to their room, which was in the smoking section. Theirs held a single queen size bed while the boys and dog had a room with two queen size beds.

As the women moved along slowly, they kept glancing over their shoulders. The trio never once looked back as they shuffled off to bed. One of the women, a tall, willowy beauty with a long mane of dark auburn hair, reached the corner and stopped. Her companion, shorter and stockier with a shoulder length bob of dark brown hair, looked up with a hopeful light in her eyes. The moment she turned the corner she turned around to be taken into the arms of her taller friend. Their lips met with a hunger that wasn’t going to be denied. After a couple of minutes of kissing, they broke and hurried down to their room, hand in hand.

Once the room door was closed, Velma Dinckley and Daphne Blake once more took to kissing and fondling each other. When they stopped they quickly began to undress. Dress and flatheels were piled on top of turtleneck sweater, wool skirt, bobby socks, and loafers. Velma leaned in and began to suck on Daphne’s breasts, hungrily pulling at the taller woman’s nipples. That got the moaning response she wanted. But Daphne pulled away, saying, “We need to get you ready if we’re to leave early tomorrow.”

Velma looked dejected. “Jinkies, Daphne, couldn’t I have a quick suck now?”

The auburn haired beauty smiled. “Afterwards, okay?”

Her friend brightened a little. “Okay.”

Together they headed into the bathroom and entered the tub. The curtain was drawn and the shower turned on. Together they began to scrub each other with soap and a wash cloth, pausing to kiss and squeeze a breast, or stroke a finger over a bristly cunt. When they had finished the women stepped out to dry themselves off. Daphne took another towel and wrapped her own dark red tresses up in it while Velma brought in a chair from the main room. This she set down before the lavatory counter, facing away from the mirror.

“We don’t have time to do the highlights tonight,” said Daphne as she brought in a large makeup bag and set it on the counter. “We barely have time to get the permanent set in before we need to get to bed.”

The younger woman looked crestfallen. “I was hoping to have that done as well, but, okay. Do you mind if I smoke?”

Daphne frowned at this but relented. Velma walked back to the other room and dug through her shoulder bag. Presently she returned, smoking a cigarillo with a plastic tip. She then sat in the chair holding the ashtray after turning on the ventilator fan.

Things had changed in the relationship of the two female members of the Scooby-Doo Detective Agency six months earlier. After a grueling day of chasing after a fake swamp monster the gang had returned to their motel rooms. Daphne had stepped out briefly to get a couple of sodas while Velma was taking a shower. Upon her return the auburn-haired beauty, who worked as a freelance photojournalist, had stepped into the bathroom as Velma was stepping out of the tub. At that moment Daphne stopped and stared. It had been a very private thing with the other woman to bath unobserved. However, Daphne began looking at Velma in a different way. The younger woman’s body was thick and smooth, the limbs stout but firm. Velma’s breasts were not very large but had a firmness that made them mound out from her chest. And the patch of thick brown fur between her legs caused a tightness to form in the older woman’s stomach, the same kind of tightness whenever she saw a virile young man in swimming trunks.

Velma sensed that someone was in the bathroom, even though her glasses were on the counter.

“Daphne? Is that you?” she asked while squinting through the mist from the shower.

Daphne didn’t reply; she set the sodas down next to the glasses and walked up to her friend. She stood and stared up and down her friend’s body before reaching for her. This startled Velma.

“Daphne, what are you doing?”

“Something I should have realized a long time ago,” came the hushed whisper as the older woman bent her head down to brush her lips against Velma’s.

“Jinkies, Daphne, what brought this on?”

“Seeing you completely for the first time,” was the answer as she lightly kissed those lips a second time.

Velma didn’t say anything more other than to close her eyes and purse her lips.

They stood that way for quite some time. Afterwards, Daphne helped finishing the toweling before taking the younger woman by the hand and head for the bed. Velma lay there while watching the auburn beauty step out of her blue dress and slip the purple headband to the floor. The younger woman never had felt this desire for another woman until now. The slender model’s body did a slow turn at the foot of the bed, offering the other a good view of firm breasts, slim limbs, and a shaven pussy . . .

Velma sat up quickly, not believing what she was seeing.

“You shave?” was all she could get out.

Daphne gave a schoolgirl’s giggle. “Yes, I do. You like?”

Velma couldn’t say another word, her attention on those smooth, pouting lips. The older woman slowly slid onto the bed beside her friend, and soon to be lover. All through the night Daphne taught Velma what to do to bring her lover to full orgasm. Before settling off to sleep they made a date the first weekend possible for Velma to sleep over at the Blake mansion.


Velma sat in the chair, quietly puffing on her cigar as Daphne wrapped her shoulders in a towel. Then taking up a comb the older woman began to work in through the wet brown hair. After a few minutes of this she opened a small bag from the makeup kit and began pulling out little plastic curlers with foam inserts. Then with a practiced hand she began to separate small locks of Velma’s hair and began to roll them up.

“Remember that weekend I came over for the night?” Velma asked.

Daphne giggled. “How could I ever forget! That was the first time I shaved your pussy.”

That brought a chuckle as the younger woman blew a smoke ring. It was a week after their first sapphic encounter that Daphne asked Velma to come over as her parents were out of town. The day was spent in shopping, buying a new wardrobe for the younger woman, and trying to ease her away from the nerdy dress she had been accustomed to for the past four years. They made dinner that evening before retiring to Daphne’s room. They took a long soak bath in that large Jacuzzi tub before drying off and settling on the bed. After several minutes of kissing, biting, and sucking, Daphne arose and returned to the bathroom. Presently she came out with some towels, washcloths, a small bowl of hot water, a disposable razor and shaving gel. She had Velma sit on a towel along the edge of the bed with her feet drawn up while Daphne sat on a short stool between her legs.

With much anticipation, Daphne sprayed a little of the gel onto her fingers, then began to spread it across that brown bush. Velma began to moan as slender fingers worked the gel into a light green lather, working it deep into the fur as it was smeared around the cunt lips. Then wetting the razor the auburn-haired beauty began to shave, working across the mons and down.

“Jinkies, that feels good. I’d never thought shaving my pubic hair would be so arousing! I wish I c
ould smoke right now.”

That caused the other woman to sit up; taking notice of what was said.

“You smoke, Velma?” Daphne gasped, disbelieving. “But I thought you said once that you would never touch a cigarette in your life!”
The brown haired woman gave an apologetic smile.

“Yes, I did. But that changed four years ago after high school,” Velma murmured as she reclined on a pile of pillows. “And it wasn’t a cigarette.” With eyes closed she began to reminisce:

Family and friends had stopped by for a dinner to celebrate Velma’s graduation from high school. After they had finished, the Dinckleys led everybody into the living room for further celebratory cheer. It was as Velma was leaving the dining room that she noticed something out of the ordinary. By a plate lay a small black cigar with a white plastic tip. She knew that it belonged to one of her parent’s friends but couldn’t smoke it because of the house rule against such activities. But on a spur of the moment whim the young woman snatched it up and carried it up to her bedroom, where she hid it in the nightstand by her bed. Afterwards, she pretty much forgot about it.

Then one weekend not long afterwards, Velma was cleaning her room. Mr. and Mrs. Dinckley were out of town for the weekend, leaving their daughter to fend for herself. As the rest of the gang was relaxing, she had nothing much to do. But when she found the cigar in the nightstand, the young woman remembered putting it there and why. Then things began to happen. From the kitchen Velma took the butane lighter the folks had used on her birthday cake. Down in the basement she remembered an old glass ashtray someone had left with the house. With these items in hand, Velma Dinckley went upstairs to the attic, and another change in her life.

At one end of the large room was a spare bed set by the window. A small table was set next to it. This was where Velma headed for. Sitting on the edge of the bed she carefully unwrapped the cellophane from the cigar and placed the plastic tip to her lips. When she got the lighter going she set the tip of the flame to the end of the cigar and began to draw. Soon she was smoking, surprised by the pleasant flavor despite the harshness of the smoke.

Lying back against the pillows, Velma drew softly on the cigar, swirling the smoke around in her mouth before blowing it out. She had made sure that the windows were open to clear the scent out. But whether it was because cigar smoking was a forbidden vice for women, or the sense of being caught smoking at all, began to give the young brown-haired woman a feeling of arousal. There had been certain things that had once before given Velma that feeling; something that would cause butterflies in her stomach, and a slight moistness between the thighs. But as she continued to pull at the cigar, the feeling was becoming stronger than she had ever felt before.

Eventually, the woman quickly undressed and began to explore her body even more so than she had ever done before. Fingers stroked swollen cunt lips, dipped into a wet vagina, and the heel of the hand pressed against the mons as she continued to smoke. Sometimes she would set the cigar into the ashtray so that her other hand could heft and squeeze a firm breast, or tweak a nipple between thumb and forefinger. Velma found her erogenous zones with questing fingers until she could feel the coming break of orgasm. With one last puff she set the cigar aside as she drove fingers into her cunt and pulled a breast up to where her hunger lips could suckle the turgid nipple. She screamed her release and collapsed, sweating, panting, satisfied.

When she finally recovered, Velma Dinckley gathered up her clothes and headed down to her room. After a quick shower she threw her clothes into the washer to clean the smoke out of them. Returning to the attic the young woman set a fan into the window to help clear out the smoke and odor while she got rid of the evidence, washing and hiding the ashtray, and returning the lighter to the kitchen. But she had started something that was going to be part of her life there after.

“I soon found that I enjoyed smoking and wasn’t going to quit. Afterwards, I would purchase my cigars at different stores in different parts of town, hiding them upstairs and would spend a Saturday afternoon in my own little world while my parents were out of town.”

“Jeepers, Velma, that was a side I would never have known to exist,” said Daphne as she was wiping the lather off of her friend’s freshly shaven cunt. “Now it’s time to learn how to shave my pussy.”


Having finished the right side of Velma’s head, Daphne stepped around to start on the left.

“That was the night that started your complete makeover,” she said while rolling a plastic curler through a swath of brown hair.

Velma chuckled. “Yeah, things really started to roll, then. You talked me into joining your aerobics club, doing light weight training, and using the tanning salon.”

“Plus, I convinced you to start letting your hair grow longer from that dutchboy to a pageboy bob. Even the boys hadn’t noticed.”

The younger woman nodded while taking a draw of her smoke. Then she turned and offered it to her friend. The auburn-hair beauty was taken back by this, but figured what all she had done for her young lover, this was a small request that shouldn’t be passed up. Taking the cigar lightly between thumb and forefinger, Daphne placed the plastic tip to her red lips and took a puff. Velma was right; there was a pleasant taste despite the harshness. She played the smoke over her tongue before blowing it out.

“Not too bad,” was her comment as she took another, deeper pull, before handing it back.

“Yeah, I found that the ones made from pipe tobacco were better than the others,” came the reply as Velma took another pull. After knocking the ash into the ashtray she said, “But what I thought to be the icing on the cake of my makeover was having the Lasik surgery done on my eyes.”

Daphne nodded at this. Three months ago it was decided that the eye surgery was the next step to Velma Dinckley’s new image. The Blake family knew a few doctors who could perform the surgery at a discount. So between doing her online college courses, her patent-pending inventing, and the outings with the boys, Velma went under the laser scalpel to end years of near-sightedness. Now her vision was nearly perfect; the heavy plastic framed glasses had plano lenses put in them and the masquerade continued to fool Fred, Shaggy, and Scooby. Velma even bought a pair of designer wire framed glasses for those times she went out with her friend/lover.

Soon Daphne had the curlers in place. That left the bangs on which she used larger barrel types. When all was finished the auburn beauty took out a small case and opened it. It held a compact hair dryer. Before continuing with that, Daphne pulled on some latex gloves and picked up a squeeze bottle of perm solution. She gave it a few good shakes before popping the cap open and begin running a line of solution along each curler. When that was done she threw away the gloves and picked up the bonnet from the dryer. This she stretched over Velma’s head before plugging in the hose and turning the machine on. The blower made a soft whirling sound that wouldn’t disturb a conversation. Next she picked up a small timer and set it.

Taking one last draw on her cigar, Velma stubbed it out and set the ashtray aside on the floor.

“Then about two weeks after the operation I found my parents busy cleaning out the attic,” she said.

“Did they discover you secret, then?” asked Daphne as she settled on the floor between Velma’s thighs with shaving gel and razor.

“No, thankfully. But they did take out the bed and nightstand. As well as a mirrored vanity that I had fun with.”

“How’s that?” asked Daphne while shaking the can of gel.

Velma giggled. “Well, I use to pose nude in front of it while smok
ing. You know, acting like I was on a model’s runway or before a camera. That was a lot of fun. But I found an old army cot that they didn’t see. So I ended up using it for my illicit activities. However, I did make another discovery during the clearing out.”

With careful strokes the older woman began to spread the shaving gel over her lover’s bristly pussy as she listened to this next bit of information:

It seemed that Velma had found a wooden carrying case, like a small suitcase. Inside she found some interesting items. Nestled in the faded green velvet lining were a shaving mug and brush, a couple of straight razors, a pair of barber’s shears with combs, a razor strop, two hand clippers, and an instruction book issued by the state for licensing barbers. Mr. Dinckley explained that this case and contents had belonged to his Great Uncle Ernie who traveled the country making a living as a barber. Velma was so intrigued by her discovery that she took it down to her room to study later.

For sometime afterwards, the young woman would sit up at night and read and reread the book until she had it memorized. Then one Saturday when her parents were out of town, Velma put her plan into action. Once more in the attic she set up a wooden chair in the middle of the room with a plastic drop cloth under it. And after blowing up a few balloons she taped one to the top of the chair. With the book, a razor, strop, and mug and brush, Velma took a bold step in learning to shave.

“Well, the book said to practice with a balloon until you could shave one without it exploding,” she explained to Daphne not long afterwards.

“Jeepers, how many balloons did you go through?” her friend asked.

“Just two,” was the reply. “After cleaning up the mess I realized what my mistakes were and corrected myself. Then I was able to shave the balloon without it popping. I did this several times until I felt sure that I could shave a real face without injury.” She giggled then before continuing. “Then, for a lark, I lathered the top of the balloon and shaved it like it was a human head. Now that was fun!”

Daphne could only shake her head as she smiled while finishing shaving the left labia.

“Yeah, like the fun we had last month at the Hargus estate up in Wisconsin.”


The Scooby-Doo Detective Agency had been called north to handle a problem with a so-called witch that had placed a curse on the Hargus family. Like something out of the Sherlock Holmes story, The Hound of the Baskervilles, there were two surviving members of the family vying for the estate and fortune. Brian Hargus, the sole direct descendant of William Hargus, the builder of the estate and family fortune, had called the gang to help out with this problem. It seemed that Granddad Hargus had run afoul of some woman claiming to be a witch. This witch had placed a curse on the Hargus family saying that it will be gone within three generations from unfortunate events to each member. Now Brian was the only direct descendant left.

The other member was Cynthia Hargus, Brian’s aunt. A cold hard woman, with dark curly hair streaked with silver and cut in a short gamin style, she was determined to claim the fortune, witch or no witch. And she was ready to take her nephew to court for it. That was the situation when the MYSTERY MACHINE arrived. Brian explained to the others some of the sightings, near accidents and warnings had been going on. Very similar to what the group had experienced in the past over such matters. But they were ready and willing to see an end to this.

As always, there was the witch, a tall woman with a sallow face, long white hair, and a cowled robe. Two assistants in disguises gave chase whenever a clue was found. But Velma and Daphne were steps ahead of the boys, as well as the witch and her cronies. In the end the two women had managed to chase the witch into the master bedroom of William Hargus. Stepping inside they found the room empty. Carefully they sounded the room, seeking a hidden doorway that they knew would connect up to a series of secret passages found earlier that honeycombed the mansion. By accident Velma found the hidden latch in the wall and the panel popped in. But years of knowing what to expect made the pair defensive. Together they threw their shoulders into the panel, and were greeted by a muffled scream, the sound of something hitting the floor, and the crash of breaking crockery.

What they found behind the panel left Daphne surprised more than the witch unconscious on the floor. But Velma seemed to have had an inkling of what laid behind that panel. The room was set up as a small barbershop, complete with a single chair in the middle of the floor. The two women realized that the witch had been standing behind the panel with a water jug held aloft to crash down on the head of the first person through. Unfortunately, she had been knocked off her feet and into the barber chair. And the jug crashed onto her head instead.

Bending over, Velma could plainly see that a mask was disguising the real culprit. And it was no surprise that she would uncover Cynthia Hargus. There was no denying the salt-and-pepper curls of that gamin hairstyle. But as Velma stared down at the unconscious woman, a sudden thought came to mind that brought the familiar excitement she had experienced from her first smoke or the first time Daphne shaved her sex.

“Quick, help me get her into the chair!”

“What?”

“Oh, hurry, will you?”

Uncomprehending, the auburn-haired partner helped Velma lift the woman into the chair. Then in a surprise move, Velma began to disrobe Cynthia. The older woman had expensive taste in lingerie: under bra, garter belt, stockings, and panties were all of black lace.

“What are you doing?” demanded Daphne.

And when Velma looked at her, the other could see the narrowing of the eyes as something malicious was formulating under that brown bob. And the shine of those eyes also hinted that this was going to be of a sexual nature.

“Daphne, we’re going to teach this woman a lesson she’ll never forget. And I get to try out my new skills.”

Quickly the younger woman began checking the drawers and cabinets of the backbar behind the chair, running the water taps to flush the rusty water out until they ran clear. Soon she had laid out her instruments of punishment, as well as a striped cape that was draped over the unconscious woman’s form. Picking up a pair of hand clippers, Velma gave them a light oiling from a little can and tried them out. The device gave a satisfying clicking as the woman worked the handles. Cynthia Hargus sat with her chin resting on her chest. That satisfied Velma as she placed the clippers against the other woman’s forehead and went to work.

The hand clippers clicked and chattered as they were worked through those black and silver curls, peeling the hair away and leaving dark stubble. The hair clumped up in front of the clippers, either being pushed back into a growing mound or slid off to the shoulders to slither down the cape into the woman’s lap. Velma worked swiftly but carefully across the top of Cynthia’s head, leaving the scalp clean.

Daphne Blake had stood back from all this, terrified at what her young lover/friend was doing. Yet, at the same time, the auburn-tress woman was becoming fascinated by the action, staring transfixed at the denuding of another woman’s glory. Unbidden, she began to step forward until she stood across from the action. The smaller brown-haired woman spared her a glance and a smile as Velma continued her shearing.

When the top of the Cynthia’s head was bared, both women noticed the red raised lump on the crown. Velma commented that that was where the water jug had come down at. Daphne could only nod in agreement; a rising sexually excitement was working its way through her lithe figure as the younger woman next place the clippers on the knocked-out woman’s right cheek. As with the top, Velma began runni
ng the hand clippers up the side of Cynthia’s face and into the hair left there, watching it tumble away into the other’s lap. She bent the ear forward to work around it as she continued her assault along the back of the head to the left side. And there, on the arch of the skull, was another lump, indicating where the Cynthia Hargus had fell against the barber chair.

Soon the clipping was over. Clumps of salt and pepper hair lay on the floor, or collected on the shoulders and in the lap. Then taking up a hand towel, Velma placed it in the sink and began soaking it down with hot water. This she then picked up, wrung out, and wrapped it around that stubbled head. Meanwhile, Daphne became even more entranced by the proceedings, as she turned towards the counter, picked up the mug and brush sitting there, wetted down the brush, and began to work up lather. Velma was surprised by this, but pleased. She came over and gave the taller woman a kiss of thanks.

“I’ll have you know that I’m getting very wet watching this,” Daphne smiled as she handed over the mug.

Velma grinned. “I thought you might. That’ll make you even tastier later on.”

“And you, too, I’ll bet.”

Velma just giggled as she pulled the towel from Cynthia’s head and tossed it into the sink. Then with a dollop of lather, she began to spread it across the other woman’s scalp until it was coated in white. Setting the mug and brush aside, the younger woman chose a razor from those laid out and flicked it open. The blade shone blue in the light. Then she studied the leather strop dangling from the side of the chair and frowned. The treated leather was dry and cracked, but it couldn’t be helped. With slow and deliberate care Velma worked the razor up and down the strop until it was a sharp as it could get.

The blade glided over Cynthia Hargus’ head as the young woman began to shave it. The blade was wiped clean on a towel that Daphne held before going back for another stroke. With a sure deft hand Velma Dinckley scrapped the unconscious woman’s skull until it shone brightly in the light of the room. Taking the damp towel she wiped the excess lather away, along with any stray hairs or stubble. Carefully she drew a finger over her handiwork, satisfied that it was shaved clean.

“Now what?” asked Daphne, still holding the towel.

Velma looked up and gave her lover a grin and wrinkled her nose.

“Now is Stage 2 of the `Great Depilation of Cynthia Hargus’.”

Looking confused the other woman asked what was that. By way of an answer, Velma took hold of the handle by the side of the chair and pushed down on it, while pushing the back of the chair into a reclining position.

Daphne was stunned. “You don’t mean to shave her face, do you?”

“Oh, yes, I do!” was the resolved answer.

The taller woman could only watch as Velma picked up the mug and brush and begin spreading the white lather down the right side of the woman’s face to her chin, the left side, down the throat, and over the chin with a smear across the upper lip. Strong fingers worked the lather across the face per the instructions of the barbering book until the older woman’s face looked like the pictures in the book.

After cleaning her hands, Velma picked up the straight razor once more and stropped it. With her left hand she tilted the face away while using the thumb to draw the cheek taut before the blade came down.

Since there was no stubble to speak of, shaving Cynthia Hargus’ face went quickly, until Velma scraped the light hairs away from the upper lip. Once more the wet towel was brought around to wipe the trace of lather away.

“Jeepers!” said Daphne in a hushed voice. “My panties are soaked from watching this! Do men get excited from having their faces shaved?”

“I don’t know,” was her lover’s reply. “But if I was a man I know I would be having an erection right now after I was shaved!”

Both women stared down at the scantily clad figure stretched out in the chair. Then some unspoken idea arose between them as they looked up at each other. Quickly they pulled the black lace panties off, exposing a dark bush shot with silver. Velma forego the clippers and hot towel, spreading the lather on, as they had no idea how much longer their victim would remain unconscious. This shaving took longer as the two of them had to widen Cynthia’s legs for Velma to reach that bush, and she had to be careful so as not to cut the woman’s flesh.

But the third, and final, shave was done and Velma and Daphne managed to work the panties back on.

“Now what?” was Daphne’s next question.

The younger woman didn’t reply. She was busy examining the wall opposite the one where the panel was. After a moment’s study, Velma pressed a spot on the wall and another panel opened up.

“How did you know that was there?” asked the auburn-haired beauty in surprise.

With a look of triumph Velma answered, “I found this room earlier in the day while exploring the house. That was after I found evidence of its existence.”

“What evidence?”

Coming up to Daphne, Velma gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll explain later. Right now we need to get her out of here.”

Together the women carried the still unconscious form of Cynthia Hargus through hidden passages until they reached a spot out side the mansion and far from prying eyes. Velma and Daphne made another trip after gathering the hairless woman’s luggage and personal things, leaving them by the body, with a note stating for Cynthia Hargus to leave and never return.

It was sometime later that the two women met up with the rest of the gang, a couple of sheriff’s deputies, and Brian Hargus. This was after Velma returned to the hidden barbershop and disabled the latch to the panel leading from the master bedroom.

“Brian doesn’t need to know about this,” was her explanation to Daphne.

The pair’s story was that they had chased the witch through the house but lost her. Velma gave evidence that Cynthia Hargus was, undoubtedly, the witch. But searching her room found that she and her luggage was gone.

Fred and the others felt disappointed, as this was the first case that was not totally successful. But Brian Hargus told them that didn’t matter now as the family fortune and mansion was his alone. So he invited the gang to stay another night before they had to head home.

After a quiet dinner, everyone retired to his or her rooms for the night. Daphne Blake sat nude before the vanity, working a brush through her long auburn tresses. Velma Dinckley emerged from the bath, a towel wrapped around her trim body while drying her hair with another. Laying the brush aside, Daphne turned to face her friend on the bed.

“How did you know that barbershop room was there? You said you found it earlier today.”

Shaking her still damp hair the brown-haired woman regarded her lover and friend.

“I found that room from the passageway side. I knew it was there because of what I found in William Hargus’ master bedroom.”

“And was that the evidence you mentioned earlier?”

Without a word Velma got down on the floor and reached under the bed. She came back up holding a flat ornate wooden case. Fascinated, Daphne went over to the bed and sat by the other woman.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“It’s a cigar humidor,” was the answer.

“A cigar humidor?”

“It was on the counter behind the barber chair, along with this.” Lifting the lid, Velma reached in and pulled out a cigar clipper mounted on a yellowed boar’s tusk.

Daphne was taken back a bit by this discovery.

“And what are you going to do with those, may I ask?”

“Keep them,” smiled her companion. “I figured that if I’m an accomplished investigator in criminal and paranormal situations, and have patents of numerous inventions, I might become a connoisseur of fine cigars!”

This made Daphne shake her head in amusement. “Honestly, I believe once you’ve set your mind to someth
ing you will succeed in that venture.” She then noticed the small photo album set within the humidor. “And what’s that?”

Lifting the album out Velma patted it affectionately. “This was the means of finding that room. It was on the upper bookshelf in the master bedroom. I thought it looked odd being among the books up there.
“But after I took it down to look at it I knew I found a gold mine, as well as a powder keg for Brian.”

After setting the clipper and humidor back under the bed, the young woman slid up to the pillows, casting aside her towel. Daphne followed suit. The younger woman opened the cover, revealing heavy black pages filled with old black and white photographs. But not just any photographs.

Daphne stared wide-eyed at each page as Velma slowly thumbed through them. The setting was the barbershop room, and the subject matter was a young William Hargus administering to three women. The photos were set into three separate vignettes in the album. And they were all of the same story: each was of a woman seated in the chair, with the striped cape spread over them, and a wig of the current hairstyle appropriate for the time lying in their laps. The shots were from a quarter profile to the left to give ample viewing of the woman and William Hargus working to her right side. But the pattern of action was the same for all three women: the short hair on their head clipped to stubble, then the head, face, and sex were lathered and shaved smooth, all the while the women were smoking cigars!

To Daphne Blake, such a thing was unheard of! But the more she stared at those series of photos, the more she felt her excitement grow. And the hairless cunt between her thighs became very moist. A sidelong glance at her lover should that Velma was getting aroused as well. Presently the album was closed and laid aside so the two women could snuggle close and begin fondling and kissing each other.

After a minute Velma Dinckley pulled away from her friend to say, “When I found those photos I knew that Brian Hargus did not need to see them and wonder about his grandfather’s perverted fetish.”

“But it wasn’t perverted. At least, from my standpoint, it looked to be a healthy exhibition of love and understanding between William Hargus and those women.”

“Ah, but not back then,” countered Velma. “A woman who allows her head to be shaved willingly would be seen as perverted. But it’s pretty much an everyday occurrence nowadays. Still, the book is a find not to be passed up. We just have to be careful in smuggling it out tomorrow.”

The auburn-headed woman reached over to tweak one of Velma’s nipples as she considered the statement.

“Then whose house will we hide it in?”

The younger woman gave a slight gasp. “Better yours than mine. Your parents are better at not inquiring into things you bring home.”

“Good idea,” murmured Daphne as she slid down and around on the bed until her legs straddled her lover’s head so the two women could settle into the sixty-nine
position.


“You must be thinking about the Hargus’ case, Velma.”

The brown-headed woman looked down at her lover between her thighs.

“Why do you say that?”

Daphne giggled. “Because your cunny is very wet again. And just after I got through shaving you!”

Velma sighed. “You’re right, I was. And whenever I think about what we did to Cynthia Hargus, and what William Hargus did to those women in the pictures, has always got me to thinking about the one thing I want to do.”

Daphne looked up from wiping the pussy she just shaved. “What’s that?”

With a dreamy look on her round face Velma Dinckley said, “Shave my face.”

“What?” gasped Daphne, standing up. “Velma Louise Dinkley, why would you want to do such a thing?”

“It has been a dream of mine for some time now. It started with Great Uncle Ernie’s shaving kit, then dealing with Cynthia Hargus, and that photo album of William Hargus.” Velma looked down at the floor while saying this, embarrassed at admitting to her dream. “Then one day while practicing shaving a balloon, I got the urge to try it. I found a chair in the attic, and sat naked in it while working up some lather in the shaving mug. Then tilting my head back I lathered my own face as it was shown in the book. With a towel draped across my breast and a cigar in hand, I pretended to shave my face with my finger because I was afraid to use a straight razor. How could I explain to my parents how I got the cut on my face.”

Then she looked up into the older woman’s face, eyes brimming with tears. “Oh, Daphne, I really can’t begin to explain the thrill it was at imagining lying back in a barber’s chair and having my face shaved! I pretended I was one of those women in Mr. Hargus album and being attended to by his hand. It was the most thundering orgasm I ever had! I was afraid the people down the street must have heard my screams! So, please, would you do this for me? Just this one time?”

For a long moment these was nothing but silence in that bathroom as the tall auburn-haired woman regarded her younger brown-haired lover and friend. Such a request was ludicrous and totally inappropriate. Still, she had been asked and Daphne could see that it was something very important to Velma, otherwise she would never have revealed this dark secret. But Daphne smiled at her.

“Of course I’ll shave your face, if that is what you want. It sounds silly, but it does sound like it would be exciting to do it.”

A broad smile split that round face under the dryer bonnet, tears of joy rolling down round cheeks.

“Oh, thank you, Daphne, thank you! You don’t know how happy that makes me!”

“Yes, I do,” said the other woman as she bent over to give her lover a long, deep kiss before gathering the shaving tools from the floor. Placing the ice bucket with hot water and razor on the counter, Daphne shook the can of shaving gel before squirting a glob into her hand.

“Ready?”

The other bobbed her head happily and tilted grinning face upward, eyes closed. Taking a dab unto her fingertips, the taller woman began to spread the green gel across a receptive face. The gel turned to pale green lather as Daphne worked it across Velma’s face until she wore a mask of lather. The younger woman’s breathing grew deep and rapid as the excitement of the event began to grow in her.

Wiping her hands on a towel Daphne picked up the razor, rinsed it in the bucket, then tilted the other’s face away to bring it in contact with the lather. Velma gave a groan of delight as she felt the twin steel edges scrape down her cheek. Rinsing the razor again Daphne continued her work; first the right cheek then the left. She had Velma lift her chin so that she could bring the razor up the throat before making short strokes across the chin. Lastly she took care of the upper lip before she was done. A wet washcloth cleared the remains of the lather away before Daphne could lean down again to deliver a deep, tongue-working kiss to the young lady seated before her. Then the timer sounded.

Turning the dryer off, Daphne removed the bonnet from Velma’s curler covered head and packed the dryer away. Then she quickly removed the curlers and tossed them back into their bag. From the makeup kit Daphne took out a large cylindrical brush and began to work it through those tight brown curls.

Up, down, over, and across, Daphne Blake played the brush through Velma’s hair for several minutes, teasing and feathering the curls to her satisfaction. Then she stood back and admired her handiwork.

“Okay, love, why don’t you take a look and see how you like it?”

Feeling both excitement and fear, Velma Dinckley stood up and turned to face her new look in the mirror. Her brown eyes went wide at the result of this evening’s attempt at preparing her new look to the world. The first words that came to mind were `a great hair helmet of brown curls’. It reminded her of an Afro style
the way her hair stood in curls away from her head. It stood tall and wide, brushing across the tops her shoulders and down the back. And the curl of her bangs just hung gracefully over her eyes. With a shake of her head Velma watched how the hair bounced and jiggled before settling back into place.

But what she said as she turned to smile at Daphne was, “Wow, I look hot!”

“Yes, you do, if I do say so myself,” was the answer. “And once we’re in Canada tomorrow night I’ll do the highlights for you.”

The two women melted into each other’s arms for another deep kiss.

“But you still need to shave my cunny for me,” stated the auburn beauty when they broke for air.

Velma didn’t say a word, she knew what to do. Taking up gel, razor, and ice bucket, she seated herself on the floor as Daphne took the chair, legs spread wide. She unwrapped the towel from her own auburn tresses and began to work the brush through her mane while the younger woman sprayed gel into her own hand and began to smear it across the other woman’s pubs.

The razor was rinsed and brought to the mons as Velma carefully made short up and down strokes across the stubble. Daphne sighed at the feel as her lover rinsed the razor and began to shave some more. Once the mons was cleaned, the now curly headed woman started down the left labia, stretching the flesh between the fingers of her left hand as she shaved with her right. Down the left side she shaved until it was clean. Then she repeated the action on the right labia until it was cleared of lather and hair. With a washcloth Velma cleaned up Daphne’s cunt before giving it the tongue check.

Daphne gasped and whimpered as Velma made sure of her shave job before lifting her head away.

“All clean,” she smiled as she noticed the look of satisfaction on the other’s face.

“Good,” Daphne managed to groan while catching her breath. “Now to bed for a quickie as we are running out of sleep time if we’re to catch our early morning flight to Toronto.”

In minutes the two women had packed away the makeup kit and cleaned up the bathroom before they could crawl into bed. Running her fingers through the mass of curls her brown bob became, Velma purred, “Now the old, nerdy, Velma Dinckley is long gone, to be replaced by the new and improved model, ready to face the world on her own terms!”


The young clerk on early morning duty couldn’t keep his eyes off of the beautiful woman who stood at the counter checking out. She was dressed in white wedge heeled pumps, white Capri pants, and pale yellow top with a long linen jacket worn over it. Her deep auburn hair had been pulled back and up into a large, impressive French twist with a spiral curl framing her face and a pouf of bangs over her eyebrows. She handed the young man a sealed envelope, saying that this was to be given to the occupants of a certain room when they came to check out. With that done the woman turned and headed out the double doors of the lobby.

The air outside was cool and crisp, but not too uncomfortable. Daphne Blake made her way across the broad sidewalk to the figure standing by the luggage at the curb. Velma Dinkley stood by them, wearing white athletic shoes, khaki cargo trousers, and a plain black sports jacket over a lightweight sweater of light blue. Daphne noted that Velma’s left hand was thrust into a jacket pocket while her right hand was up before her face. Then the hand fell to her side, a black cigar with a white plastic tip held between her fingers, as she tilted her head back to blow smoke into the air.

Daphne marveled at the brown nimbus of curls that danced around her lover’s head when she did that. And was glad that the transformation into a new woman was finally complete. Velma turned her head at the sound of her friend and lover’s approach. She smiled, and held up the cigar to her. Daphne took it without a second thought and set it to her own lips. She took a deep draw before sending the smoke into the air as well.

“I never thanked you for helping me with my makeup earlier,” said the curly headed woman. A touch of eye shadow, blush, and lip-gloss highlighted that round face.

“You did plenty of it last night for the work done on your hair,” answered the older woman. “Besides, you don’t need that much to bring out your natural beauty. Especially with the way your hair looks now.”

Velma gave her head a shake, feeling how the curls danced around it.

“Do you think that TV station will hire you?” she asked after her hair had settled.

Daphne gave a soft chuckle. “When they emailed me two weeks ago after I had submitting my resume’, they were practically begging me to come up and apply for the job. The interview seems to be just a formality since they hinted at wanting my to start right away. Besides, they did mentioned, at my request, about a research institution not far from their station that would be glad to sign you on. So things will work out great for us.”

“I know,” said Velma, puffs of smoke punctuating each word, “but I can’t help feeling sorry for Fred, Shaggy, and Scooby with our walking out on them.”

“Me, too. But things have not been the same for the past couple of years. Fred seems to be more into himself, and Shaggy and Scooby-Doo’s gluttony appears to be getting worse. Maybe it was time we left and started new lives for us. And once we have settled into a new place, I’ll write to Mom and Dad about sending those packages up to us.”

“You mean the humidor, album, and shaving kit I left at your house?”

Daphne nodded as she blew a series of smoke rings. They stood there for some time afterwards, sharing the cigar, until the taxi appeared. Velma took the stub of the cigar to a smoke receptacle then came back to help load the luggage. After everybody got in and the taxi pulled away, the brown-haired woman took one last look at the MYSTERY MACHINE and shed a tear for a memorable life that was being left behind.

“Cheer up, Velma,” said Daphne, taking her hand. “We have a new life to look forward to. And maybe, after I start work as an investigative video reporter for this station, I just might invite you along to help out in solving some mysteries. Like old times, you know.”

Velma smiled, wiping the tear away. “Yeah, like old times. But it’ll be just you and me. As it should be, through thick and thin, and in and out of bed.” Then she lowered her voice so only her lover could hear. “And maybe a barber’s chair, you know?”

The driver didn’t understand what his two passengers were laughing about, but at least it made his morning better. As for the women, it was:

The End

Of an old way of life, and:

The Beginning

Of a new one.

To be continued . . .

Leave a Reply

clipper-banner