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Angie climbed from her sporty red convertible. The car was part of her problem, but she had been unable to let it go. Even though she had been forced to give up most of her possessions in declaring bankruptcy, this one was too precious to release. It represented everything she had once achieved-financial success with the big boys.

But like so many young bright stars, she had shone too brightly and burnt out early. Or rather her spending habits ran headlong into the stock market crash. Her most recent visit to the unemployment office had elicited a job placement. Since she was desperate, she took the offer sight unseen and considered herself lucky that they agreed on her as well.

That’s how she came to be standing outside the small beauty shop in Podash. Her letter of introduction had instructed her to meet Miss Ophelia Walker here at nine in the morning. Taking a deep breath in, and then hastily pulling her burgeoning tube top back to decency, she shoved her car keys into the pocket of her scantily short jeans. With her designer purse slung over her shoulder, she tossed her mid-back length blonde hair back and walked into the shop.

Immediately she was assailed by the sounds and scents she had not experienced she was a young girl. Coming from a small town, she was familiar with beauty parlors like this. But with her success, and the move to the big city, she’d become used to the rarified atmosphere of the luxurious spas and salons. Still her mind retained the memories from her youth. Like a bad dream, the memory of her traumatic first professional haircut, and subsequent growing of her to her butt until she finished college, had occurred in a place just like this.

At the age of thirteen she’d been caught making out with the boy next door. She had just begun developing, if you could call her 32 C-cup boobs undeveloped, and easily she’d fallen prey to Tommy Phillips sweet talking. His mother walked in and found her precious, and totally innocent, son being exposed to the “slut’s” disgusting nudity.

Her parents had been so horrified they had refused to listen to her side of the story. All that had happened was Tommy had gotten her shirt unbuttoned while kissing her. He had been ready to touch her bra covered boob when the door opened.

According to Mrs. Phillips, a single mother and extremely protective of her only child, Angie had seduced her son.

Tommy told everyone at school that he felt her naked breasts on his bed.

Between the two stories circulation in the small town, her parents had been mortified. Her father declared there was only one choice. His daughter would adopt a near-monastic lifestyle, and get the hairdo to match.

At first Angie had been totally unaware of what awaited her as her mother brought her into the salon. Eagerly she’d climbed up onto the chair, anxious for her first “real” haircut. Up to this point, her long (almost butt-length) thick golden locks had been trimmed by her mother. Her hair was the envy of many girls at her school. Little did she know that would soon end?

Unbeknownst to Angie, her mother had called ahead, forewarning the owner what was to happen. She soon learned that there was a cape they could use to restrain a recalcitrant child in the chair. When she heard the click, click, click behind her, she had no idea she’d just been successfully, and irrefutably, restrained in the chair.

“Alrighty now, dearie,” Lula Mae had said as she turned the smiling girl to face the mirror. “You’re getting your first professional haircut, I understand?”

Angie nodded eagerly.

“Mrs. Tollin?” Lula Mae spoke to her mother. “I’ll have you stay here, until we get started.”

Angie didn’t see the wink and knowing look the two women exchanged.

“Okay, we’ll start dry and then wash afterwards.”

Angie prepared herself to say “just an inch off the bottom.” She’d practiced all night since her parents had told her she was coming here today anyway. She stopped as Lula Mae began combing her down. It felt so relaxing that she closed her eyes. That was her second mistake. (The first was to trust Tommy Phillips.)

She didn’t see the large silver shears sliding into her hair on the right side, just above her shoulder. She did hear the loud schnick, schnick, schnick as they opened and closed voraciously devouring her hair. Her struggle started after the third cut. It was going slower than usual because Lula Mae setting each handful of hair cut aside. She had already made plans to sell the luxurious hair at an exorbitant price.

Before she could any real momentum to her fight, her mother partially straddle her legs while her arms clamped down on her daughter’s. With the cape holding her top half securely and her mother practically lying across the remainder, Angie had nowhere to go.

“Hold still, dearie, or you might lose an ear!”

That stopped the rest of her struggles, which now turned to tears.

“Why, Mommy? Why is she cutting my hair like this? I don’t want it like this!” Angie protested loudly, between tears and hiccups.

“Your father and I have decided that we have been too loose in your upbringing. From now on you will be living quite a different life indeed. Your father will explain everything once we get home.”

After that the only thing Angie could, besides crying, was to watch in helpless horror in the mirror at her transformation from budding beauty to.well, something else.

Finally her blonde locks ended unevenly just above her shoulders. Assuming this was the worst, Angie stopped crying.

Lula Mae was far from being done. With a comb, she sectioned off the girl’s hair all around her head from two inches above her ears. Clips held the heavy hair up.

Angie thought she looked silly with wild sprouts of hair coming off the top of her head. This didn’t last long as she heard a click, followed by a low buzz.

Bees?

“Now we clean all this up lickety split. We’ll start with a quarter.”

Her mother nodded and moved away to have a seat a short distance, but with a good field of vision.

“Lean your head forward, dearie.”

“What?”

“Chin to chest, miss!”

Before she could respond, or comply, Lula Mae’s hand pushed her head down and Angie felt the pressing of something cold at the nape of her neck. Immediately she recognized the buzzing sound, accompanied by the most bizarre feeling on her head. Without pause, the clippers, as she later learned they were called, gobbled up the hair on her head, leaving in its wake a one fourth inch dark blonde pelt.

Since she didn’t know what was happening, Angie didn’t get upset, yet. That came when the buzz came over her right ear and without pause sheared away her hair.

“What the-? What are you doing? Mommy!”

“Hush, Angie! Lula Mae is just cutting your hair with the clippers. Now, be quiet or their will be hell to pay once you get home and your father finds out how you’ve disobeyed.”

Angie immediately shut up. Her father’s punishments had always been worse than her mother’s, even though they happened very rarely. She’d always been the apple of her father’s eye-his adorable golden princess, he called her. So none of this made any sense. Surely he had not approved this desecration to her hair?

Very quickly she saw all the hair below the sectioned hair was reduced to a dark pelt of hair. Against the sun-lightened strands, the difference was startling to her.

Seconds later the clips were removed. Angie breathed a sigh of relief. This at least covered up the monstrosity and so long as the ends were evened, she imagined she’d get used to this. The worst wouldn’t be visible unless she moved to fast or the wind blew.

Quickly her hair was combed down all around her head, including her face. In shocked disbelief she felt the shears again slide into her hair. This time the scissors were a good one inch above her ear as the first horrible cut was made. Tears rained down as the shearing continued around her head until she sported a “blonde bowl” on top of her h
ead. Her bangs ended more than half an inch above her brows. The sharp lower edge reminded her of the splayed bristles of an old paintbrush.

“Okay,” Lula Mae said. She again sectioned the hair as before. Left below was approximately a one inch wide swath of hair. Without pause, the beautician cut this off. The sectioned hair was released and with the undercut, it now curved under.

Finally Angie heard the long awaited word.

“Done!”

The chair was spun to face the mirror and she saw that all her lovely blonde hair was gone and in its place was pale vanilla colored bowl had been put on her head. It covered her down to an inch or so above her ears. The hair around her temples and neck had been shorn to such a short length she knew she couldn’t even pull it with the tips of her fingers. The difference in color was natural, but she knew people would assume she colored her hair.

At school her nickname from the girls’ quickly became “muffin” and the boys called her “Puddin’.” She assumed it was because of the bowl shape cut, but it was really due to the fact that Tommy told everyone that when he had his hand down her pants, her pussy was wet and creamy like home-made hot pudding.

In one fell swoop she went from being the girl that all the other girls in her class wanted to be like, to the one they all made fun of. And as far as the boys went, her troubles only got worse, in spite of her father’s plans. In class, the seat behind her was changed daily to hold a different boy. Each would try to reach around and grab her tits. In the hallway, several times she caught in a group of boys, shielded from the passing crowd, and felt up by them all. Her breasts were often sore and bruised.

It all ended when her parents divorced two years later and her mother took her and moved to the big city. Her mother was overwhelmed with working for the first time in her adult life and living in a big city. Angie was free once more. Immediately she let her hair grow and never looked back.

Angie became aware that every woman in the place was now staring at her. how long she’d been staring, lost in her thoughts, was anyone’s guess. Finally she heard a woman’s voice speaking to her.

“Hello Miss. Can I help you?”

Angie turned her head and saw a young girl, her hair almost an exact duplicate of her pudding bowl years earlier except hers was black as ink. The raven-haired girl was dressed in a school girl’s uniform, but Angie had no idea what her age might be. Angie smiled, straining against her nervousness to be polite. “Hi! I was told to meet Miss Ophelia-“

“Oh, sure! She’s almost done if you want to have a seat,” the girl replied immediately.

Angie smiled. “Thanks, uh-“

The girl rushed to supply her name, a tactic Angie had learned while getting her master’s in business. “Lily.sorry, Lillian.”

“Pretty name, Lillian. I’m Angie Walker. Thanks, again.” Angie walked over and took a seat in one of the four matching chairs at the front of the salon. She let her gaze travel over the shop. The old fashioned silver hair dryers caught her eye, reminding her of rocket ships and the place from her childhood. She shuddered recalling her frequent visits to the shop. Desperately Angie wished she could push the memories out of her head!

Lily watched the beautiful blonde woman wistfully. The long shining blonde locks made her envious and remember her own once glorious raven haired locks which almost reached her butt. Her hair had been her pride and joy. Lovingly she washed and conditioned it.

Then her Aunt Floria’s husband had decided it was bad and it had to go. There was no resisting him, especially since her Aunt gave in and agreed with him. Her aunt brought her here where they scalped her, almost literally in her opinion. She had been so upset by the traumatic loss of her hair she’d peed herself while sitting in the chair. It still embarrassed her to think about it.

Self-consciously her hand crept up to touch the thick short hair above her ears. She still had to keep her hair cut short in the pudding-bowl style even though this was her last semester of high school. Her grades were so good and she needed few credits to graduate that she was able to work half-days this semester.

Once she finished high school, she had one day off and then beauty school started. It was already arranged and Lily saw no other way around it. Working here had been part of the plan her aunt and uncle had worked out with Betty Lou, the owner of the beauty shop. She worked here mornings, and in exchange she got her hair, and her aunt’s, cut for free. She learned quite early on that her uncle was tight with his money.

Little did she know, arriving here two years ago, that her life would be so different? It was unnerving when she thought about it. Pretty soon it would be changing even more.but she pushed that truth away. She didn’t want to deal with it yet. Instead she looked at the beautiful blonde. The young woman looked so alive and normal. Lily wanted to shout at her. “Get out! Run away while you still can!”

“Angela?”

Angie jumped when she heard her name spoken. “Yeah. I mean yes.” She looked up to see a woman of indeterminate age standing in front of her. Trembling she stood.

“Good,” the other woman replied. “I can see I have my work cut out for me.”

“What?” Angie said quickly, no sure what to do.

“You do remember signing your employment contract, don’t you?” Ophelia snapped at her.

An embarrassed flushed covered her cheeks. “Yes, of course, I remember.”

“Very good, Miss Walker. First we need to get your clothing up to standard, and from there we will deal with the rest of Master William’s requirements.” Ophelia started for the door, but turned back as she opened it. “We’ll be back in time for our appointment Betty Lou. Come along now!”

Angie hot-footed it after the imperious woman. Her tone and manor indicated she would countenance very little variation from her normal routine. And Angie knew this job was it, or go to jail for not paying her restitution to the court.

Trailing behind the older woman, Angie took the time to take in her appearance. Her hair was a tightly curled bubble on top of her head. It stuck out approximately three inches from her scalp from about an inch above her ears and down to about two inches from her hairline on her neck. The remaining two inches there, as well the part at her ears had been cut impossibly short. To Angie it looked like you couldn’t even catch the hair between your fingers.

Angie stumbled as she recalled that was exactly how her hair had been after it had been clipper cut. Her entire body shivered once again in negative reaction. “Ugh!”

“Is something wrong, Miss?” Ophelia turned to glare at the younger woman trailing several feet behind her.

“Oh, uh, no. Sorry I just tripped.” Angie offered a feeble explanation hurriedly.

“Hmmphf! Well, watch where you are going. We can’t have you injuring yourself, now can we?”

I guess not.

“Here we are,” Ophelia announced, pulling open the door to a shop. “Follow me.”

Angie caught the door and walked inside. Once again she experienced time warp and felt like she was back in the small town she’d grown up. In fact, that little red-neck place was only about two hundred miles or so from this place. Shaking her head, she marveled at the way fate dealt with people. Right now she didn’t feel it was terribly fair.

“Hello, Myra!” Ophelia called. “We’re here for the special order.”

A tall woman came into view and Angie felt herself shrinking and withdrawing. She hated this reaction, and knew it was due to the change in her circumstances. She’d gone from power-broker to bankruptcy and one payment away from losing her home, nee car. This nanny job would cover the payments and allow her to save some money since room and board were included. Hopefully after a year here, she’d have enough to start over.

Myra Anne, infamous in Podash for ability to mold the female form in amazing ways, looke
d at Angie.

Suddenly she felt like a butterfly whose wings had been pinned, but now she feared they were about to pulled off!

“Well,” Myra said briskly. “We’d best get started. I see we have a lot to accomplish.”

Ophelia turned to her. “Follow Myra, Miss. She’s in charge of your uniform and undergarments.”

Angie started towards the dressing room, but stopped abruptly. “Undergarments?”

“Go on, dear. Of course you have to wear suitable undergarments. After all, you’ll be dealing with young and impressionable girls. Hurry along now. We can’t be late for our next appointment.”

Myra was walking towards her with a number of boxes. “Normally I’d have my new assistant, Missy Bea here, but she is seeing to some problems for now. Go into the dressing room and take off all your clothes.”

Angie stiffened as the other woman’s gaze moved over. Myra made no effort to hide her opinion, and it showed her disgust about her clothing. Closing the curtain, Angie quickly removed everything, which were only three things. “Okay,” she called out.

The curtain flew open and Angie cried out. Her hands flew to conceal herself.

“Don’t be daft, girl. I’ve seen it all before. Now, first you need a good foundation. Put this on.”

Angie looked at what she recognized as an old-fashioned full length all in one bra and girdle. “You’ve got to be kidding!” Angie spoke without thinking.

“Don’t you get smart with me, Missy. Master William is waiting for me to report on how you behaved during this visit. Need I remind you that your employment is provisional to you fulfilling all the demands of your contract?”

Angie was shocked to hear Ophelia snap back at her. Reaching one shaking hand for the garment, she realized that now both women were watching her. She stood for a few seconds, and then it dawned on her they weren’t leaving. Self-consciously, she began by putting first one foot, and then the other into the heavy duty garment. She knew her body had a few flaws. What woman didn’t have some jiggles she wished weren’t there? But hell, she’d never heard any of the men she dated complain!

Struggling, she pulled the garment up her body, grimacing at the heavy bra and the thick straps. Finally she straightened, having the garment on completely, breathing heavily.

“Here is the closure,” Myra leaned forward, jerking the hidden zipper upwards on her side. “There you go snug and secure. Now, bend forward at the waist.”

“What?” Angie asked, confused.

“Don’t argue, girl!” Ophelia chastised her again.

Quickly Angie leaned over, her hair falling into her face. From above her she heard Myra.

“Now shake your upper body firmly, from side to side. This will settle big tits like yours securely into the cups.”

For a moment Angie didn’t move. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. But neither woman was laughing, or at least not so she heard. She shook her shoulders and felt her boobs settle into the large cups of the bra.

“Good. Now stand up,” Myra directed her.

Angie stood. In disbelief she watched as Myra walked up to her and without a word, she reached into Angie’s right bra cup and lifted her right boob up and then dropped it. She repeated the procedure on the other.

“There, now you are properly settled.” Myra turned and handed her a pair of white anklets. “You will wear these when you are in your uniform.”

Angie looked at the lace-edged socks. Were they crazy?

“Hurry along!” Ophelia barked at her.

Angie quickly sat on the small bench in the dressing room and pulled them on. Her uniform came next. There was a button down white blouse, with short sleeves. The skirt was pleated and came to below her knees, blue-green plaid and suspenders. A short clip-on man’s tie completed the outfit. Angie couldn’t believe how she looked as she saw her reflection for the first time. Before she had time to absorb it all, Myra was handing her a pair of shoes.

Not surprised, she took the classic, single strap black patent leather shoes. The only thing missing was a beret!

“Good and not a moment to spare!” Ophelia announced quickly. “Come along or we’ll be late. Thank you for your time and especially your patience, Myra.”

“Not a problem, Miss Ophelia. Horace and I are always happy to oblige Master William.”

Angie raced after Ophelia, amazed at how fast the other woman could walk.

In no time at all they were back at the salon, or rather beauty parlor, as the paint on the glass front declared. Ophelia ignored Lily, walking straight back to speak to another woman.

Lily smiled at Angie. “Welcome back. I see you are getting the Podash treatment.” She gestured to her own outfit, which was a near match.

“You don’t have suspenders,” Angie pointed out.

Lily grinned and ran her hands down her almost completely flat chest. “No boobies disrupting the line of my shirt. If you do, you get them. Oh, and it don’t matter whether you wear them in,” she gestured inwards on herself. “Or, out,” she added, motioning towards the outside of each breast. “Someone will say you are doing it wrong and correct you.”

“Great,” Angie muttered under her breath. Silently she reminded herself how much she loved her car.

“Hey, where is your beret and purse?” Lily asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t get any.” Her own purse had been gathered up by Myra, and placed aside to be sent to the home of her employer, along with the rest of her new clothing.

“You will.” Lily rushed to point out to her. “You need somewhere to carry your lipstick and handkerchief.”

“What? I-“

“Hello, Lily darling! Who is your new little friend?”

Angie turned and saw a woman had come up behind her. She couldn’t tell her age, but she was dressed in a quiet dress, almost shapeless, except for the way it clung to high jutting breasts. When the woman moved forward to hug Lily, she noticed that the dress also clung to very pronounced backside the woman possessed.

“Sure, Aunt Flo. This is Angie. This is my aunt, Florian Gloford. My Uncle Glenn owns the local hardware store.” Lily smiled from her aunt to Angie.

Angie offered her hand in greeting. Maybe she could meet some nice people here after all, in spite of their odd looks. That’s when she noticed Aunt Flo’s haircut for the first time. She’d never seen a woman with a man’s cut before, but that is what this woman had. Her auburn hair was clipper cut all over to almost nothing until you neared the top. There it was allowed to be one-fourth inch, increasing to a full inch on top, where it stood straight up, forming a square shape on top. This had to be a flat top, Angie realized, even though she’d never seen one before.

Forcing herself not to stare, she let her gaze move down. Then she noticed the woman’s arms were now curved over her decidedly rounded belly. Was she pregnant, or just out of shape?

“It’s lovely to meet you Angie. Are you in school as well?” Flo asked, smiling sweetly.

“Uhm, no. I’ve been hired to work as a nanny.”

“Oooh,” Flo said quickly. “For Master William. That’s good.” She turned to Lily. “I came to check with Helen.”

“I don’t think so, Aunt Flo,” Lily told her aunt.

Angie could hear the sad tone in the younger woman’s voice. She wondered what the problem might be.

“Helen is a miracle worker, dear. I know she’ll try as soon as it is long is long enough. Oh, I see she is free for a minute. I’ll be right back, girls.” Flo rushed down the shop.

Angie turned and Lily smiled, shrugging her shoulders.

“My aunt finally convinced my uncle to let her hair grow back out. She wants the top curled, but Helen keeps telling her it is too short, even for the smallest of rollers. Oh well.”

Angie nodded and took a seat. Instantly she was aware of the difference. The long line support made her sit up straighter and there was some definite pressure applied to her pussy. If she rotated, or rolled her hips the tiniest bit forward, she instantly discovered that the pressure exerted by the girdle, aligned her just right-her cl
it was rubbed against her fleshy hood, pressed between the tight girdle and her hard pelvic structure.

If she kept this up, she’d orgasm right here in this damned salon.beauty parlor!

“Miss Angie!”

Angie looked up and saw Lily had spoken. “What? I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.”

Lily gestured with her head. “Miss Ophelia is calling you.”

“Oh, thank you,” Angie spoke quickly. Struggling to her feet, she raced down the floor of the parlor.

“Here she is Betty Lou. Sit down, Miss. Remember you must follow the rules of your contract and that includes your hairstyle.” Ophelia reminded her sternly. “All right, Betty Lou. You know what to do. I’ll be back in two hours.”

Two hours!

No way would a trim take that long. Shaking her head, she met Betty Lou’s gaze in the mirror. It was a small round mirror, resting on the table in front of the chair. It was low enough, and there was plenty of room between each station to allow people to stop on the street and watch. That thought made her a little ill feeling.

Without pause Betty Lou had her neck wrapped and a cape around her.

Angie listened, but she didn’t hear any snaps to indicate she was being held in the chair. Breathing a sigh of relief, she relaxed.

Betty Lou picked up a brush and quickly had her hair combed out all around her shoulders. “We’ll start dry and wash midway before the final cut and styling.”

“All right,” Angie murmured. She wasn’t feeling completely reassured as she recalled Lily’s haircut, let alone the one her aunt sported. Quickly she darted a look in the mirror at her beautiful long blonde hair. As she looked up, she saw a man was standing on the other side of the glass looking in.

Super dark frames on his sunglasses hid his eyes, but from the set of his head, Angie was pretty sure he was looking at her. She turned her gaze away, but it was easy to remember what he looked like-tall, brown hair, neatly cut. Slightly tanned and dressed casually in a white shirt, short-sleeved to accommodate the hotter weather, accented his broad shoulders. She’d also noted the requisite white t-shirt underneath. He also wore a silk tie of muted colors and brown trousers.

If she’d seen him anywhere else her first thought would be-

Geek alert!

But she didn’t have that impression at all. Something in his gaze had felt hot and sexual. She hadn’t felt these tensions in quite some time and she liked it. Feeling bolder, she turned back and smiled at him, letting her mouth curl just a bit on the ends.

He was still there, but he didn’t smile. He didn’t leave, nor did he turn away.

“We clear away this bulk first. It will make the rest much easier.”

Angie realized that Betty Lou must be speaking to her. Then she felt the cold metal against the side of her face. She wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but she’d swear it had felt like half way up her ear.

Schnick, schnick, schnick.

The noise continued, getting softer and then louder once more as it circled her head and came to her other ear. Belatedly it dawned on Angie that this meant Betty Lou had just cut all of her hair off.

“What the he-” she barely caught the expletive, which was also against the rules. “How much are you cutting off?”

“I’m merely fulfilling the requests of your employer. Now sit still unless you want to do your job with only one ear.” Betty Lou told her sternly. Her tone brooked no tolerance to resistance.

Immediately Angie was taken back to her traumatic haircut. The effect was instantaneous, and she once again became pliant and submissive as she had once her father had paddled her butt following the first trip to the salon. Each subsequent one, or at least the next three, she had a red bottom to suffer through during the appointment. Straightening, she didn’t say a word.

Angie looked in the mirror. All she could see was one side and her hair looked puffy and sticking up above her ear. It didn’t help her feel better. Feeling glum, she turned to see if the man was still there.

He was. Watching her, he stood tall and straight with his arms now folded and not saying a word. Something in the way he kept staring in her direction assured her that he was looking at her. Then she saw it, on his face. He knew exactly what she was feeling at losing her hair like this-so abruptly and out of her control. He recognized her helplessness, her humiliation at the submissive way she was being treated.

It didn’t make sense, but Angie knew that he was aware of everything she’d been through so far-right down to the type of underwear she wore, and didn’t wear. Forcing herself, she looked away from his face. This allowed her a better look in the mirror. Her hair had been cut the near tops of her ears. Only the top half-inch or so was still concealed by the blonde locks. Before she could twist to see more, Betty Lou was sectioning it off. Clips held her hair on top.

Angie heard the pop, followed by the buzz. Beyond her control, she turned back to see if the man was still there.

He was. His attention seemed to be centered on Betty Lou.

Abruptly the chair was turned and she was looking into the salon.

Betty Lou moved behind her and pushed her head forward. “Chin to chest now, and don’t move!”

Angie closed her eyes as tears started to into her eyes. Without a doubt she knew the haircut she was getting was going to be like Lily’s, and the one she’d had at age thirteen.

Over and over she felt the clippers crawling up the back of her head. Since she’d had this done to her weekly for over two years, she didn’t have to see to know how high the clippers went. She was being sheared to her occipital bone. That meant the cut was going to stick out in the back, emphasizing the “muffin” appearance.

The chair was shifted and the clippers zipped over her right temple, beyond her ear. Betty Lou did the opposite side just as fast. The clippers were turned off and Angie hoped they were done. Instead another pair came on, the whine a slightly higher tone. These repeated the work over her temples and just an inch shy of where the clippered area began. This was done in the back, all the way, minus the inch.

When silence reigned, Angie took a deep breath. A whirring sound caught her attention. Warmth touched the skin the clippers had just passed over, but left a small area free. The chair was whirled back around to face the window.

He was still there. His eyebrow lifted on one side as his gaze seemed to shift to her face. She knew that he was seeing her tears.

God! He was enjoying this!

She couldn’t believe that he was enjoying her pain. What nerve! Throwing caution to the wind-

Scraping caught her attention. Betty Lou was shaving her with a razor. Granted it was a pink disposable one rather than one of the cruel straight edge, but it was still being shaved!

Turning back, she caught the smile curving his mouth up on one side. Did this guy have no compassion? Not giving a damn she waited until she knew he was looking directly at her. She slowly opened her mouth and formed a word-

PERVERT!

Her pleasure turned to ashes as the man grinned openly and then turned and walked away. Behind her she felt Betty Lou begin toweling the last of the shaving crème away.

“All right, now we shampoo!”

Angie lost track during the relaxing shampoo and conditioning of her hair. Lily was appointed to do it, and she took an extra long time and care doing it. Once she was back in Betty Lou’s chair, there was no time left to spare. Her hair was combed down all around and cut off to form a perfect bowl shape half and inch above her ears. Thinking they were almost done, she was surprised when the perm stand was rolled over.

“I’m doing a special curl. It is going to crimp the lower edges, making a permanent under curve. It will be easier to care for.”

Angie just shrugged. Knowing the past was repeating was too demoralizing. She closed her eyes and pretended it was happening to someone else. Except the growing arousal from the inces
sant rubbing. That couldn’t be denied, or ignored.

“There we go, dear. All done!”

Reluctantly Angie opened her eyes. The blow-drying had felt good, but otherwise she just wanted this to be over. She couldn’t miss the gold cap on top of her head, surrounded by the darker undercut. It definitely looked like she dyed her hair, which she never had. It was even more an exaggerated curling under than she’d had as a teen. Now she looked like one of those monster muffins, with the huge overhang!

“Excellent, Betty Lou!” Ophelia appeared behind the chair. “Here is your new purse, Miss Angela. Your lipstick is inside. Put it on before we go outside.”

“What about her eyebrows? I haven’t done those yet.” Betty Lou asked, removing the cape.

“No, he doesn’t like that. Hurry up, Miss!” Ophelia took the lipstick from Angie. “Purse your lips and I’ll put it on. We don’t have time to waste!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Angie saw Ophelia applying a very heavy coat of candy cane pink to her lips.

The lipstick was returned to her purse. From out of nowhere a beret, matching the pattern in the skirt and tie was plopped on top of her hair. Ophelia shifted it to the side slightly, and shoved a pin in place to hold it. “Perfect! Let’s go!”

Angie got out of the chair, her legs feeling rubbery. She stopped at the front counter. “Where’s Lily?” she asked without thinking.

Betty Lou, who was ringing up the charge, stopped to answer. “She’s gone to school. She’s only here in the mornings until she graduates. Then she’ll start her beauty college course here.”

“Come along, Miss Angela.” Ophelia’s voice grew strident as she opened the door.

Outside the shop, Angie looked for her car. “Oh my God! My car’s been stolen! I can’t believe this!”

“Hush, girl! It hasn’t been stolen. Master William arranged for it to be transported to his home. You are traveling there with me, and I’ll go over the rest of your duties. I’m parked in the lot, one street down. Hurry along now!”

Angie followed the other woman. She didn’t try and catch up. Ophelia just walked too fast.

A few feet from the entrance to the lot, a long black limousine pulled up beside them. The chauffeur’s window lowered. “Miss Walker is to travel home in the limousine, Ophelia.”

“What? That’s not my orders said.”

Angie watched as the tall, blond haired man in his twenties got out of the car. He was nicely built, wearing a black suit and cap. He stepped to the rear door, opening it. “Miss?”

Ophelia took a step forward. “Well, I guess I can get my car later.”

The young man reached out, blocking her progress into the limousine.

“What’s wrong, Kirk?”

“Not you, ma’am. Just the young lady.” He gestured towards Angie, motioning her towards the car.

Quickly she moved around them both. “Thank you, Kirk. And thanks for all your help today, Ophelia. Bye.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw the shocked expression on the older woman’s face. Shrugging she continued into the backseat.

From the bright sunlight it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust. As the car started forward again, she turned her head to the other side of the seat. “Oh my God!”

The handsome man who had watched in the window tilted his eyebrow. “Somehow that doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

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