Growing up in a family where she was the only girl out of 5 children, Jenny was used to being in a masculine environment. Throughout her childhood she was forced to dress in the old clothes that her older brothers had grown out of, although she longed to wear the feminine dresses and skirts that her friends wore. But far worse than this was the ordeal she suffered every few weeks at the barber shop. Down at the local mall there was just one shop for cutting hair, which was run by an old man who had been there for many, many years. To save both time and money her mother insisted that Jenny’s hair was also submitted to the old man’s humming clippers. After each of her brothers had been ritually shorn, Jenny would have to take the long solitary walk and take her seat in the hated chair and submit her hair to the unforgiving teeth of the barber’s clippers. While the result of the barber’s work might have been seen as quite long for a boy, for a girl the finished haircut always lead to endless weeks of insults and torments from all her friends and enemies alike. Jenny longed for the day when she could grow her hair.

At the age of 16, when she left high school, Jenny decided to train as a hairdresser at the local college. She really enjoyed the training period and loved the feel and atmosphere of being in a hair salon. But she found a whole new level of enjoyment when it came to her first time standing behind a client with a pair of sharp scissors in her hand. Standing above the seated model draped in a gown she felt a sense of empowerment. She felt in control. She soon developed a reputation around the college for being rather scissor-happy, and most of her models left with shorter cuts than they had wanted. Her colleagues on the course would often volunteer to let her cut their hair, but only once, as they too became victims of Jenny’s over enthusiastic cutting. Jenny loved the feeling of power that holding the scissors gave her. A feeling that intensified when it came to cutting the hair of her first male client.

As she held the unfamiliar clippers in her hand, and pushed the guy’s head down to expose the nape, Jenny felt those childhood memories flooding into her head. All those painful and embarrassing haircuts of her childhood. All those feelings of helplessness as she sat swamped by the heavy cape and felt rough, unforgiving hands pushing her head down. The clippers buzzed and twitched in her hands, only this time she wasn’t the one on the receiving end. As she started to push the clippers up the back of his head Jenny felt a tingle along her spine. She pushed the clippers higher, watching with growing excitement as the hair was stripped from the back of his head. The ruthless efficiency of the humming blades surprised her. In less than 5 minutes Jenny had reduced the hair to a crisp and sharp #2 all over. Jenny ran her hand over the spiky remains, enjoying the feel of the newly buzzed hair. A somewhat shocked model stood from the chair rubbing a hand over what little remained hair on his scalp. Yet another victim of Jenny’s over enthusiasm and love for the pleasure she found in robbing others of their hair.

As Jenny thought about what had happened a plan began to form in her mind.

After graduating Jenny managed to talk her parents into lending her the cash to set up her own barber shop. Visiting the local mall she was surprised to see the for sale sign hanging outside the very shop where she had endured all those embarrassing childhood hair cuts. After some negotiation she managed to buy the lease and spent the next couple of weeks fitting out the place, choosing with great care exactly the items she wanted. The shop was dominated by the huge, old-fashioned black leather and chrome barber’s chair. Jenny made sure it was set to the highest setting so that even the tallest of her future male customers would find their feet left dangling in the air. The capes she bought were jet black and were made from a heavy satin material. They had strong ties at the neck and would rest almost like a weight pressing down on the unlucky guys who dared to sit in her chair. She also spent time carefully choosing exactly the right sets of clippers. Not for her the small, lightweight and quiet clippers favored by the manufacturers and modern stylists. Jenny opted for the large, black Osters – a brutal machine that ruthlessly stripped the hair as they buzzed noisily – perfect!

On the first day of opening her new shop Jenny spent some time selecting exactly the right clothes that she would wear. The pink T-shirt fit her almost like a second skin, clinging to the curves of her body. She slipped into the black, leather skirt – admiring in the mirror how it left most of her legs exposed, falling to just about her mid-thigh as it did. She completed the outfit with the high-heeled knee length boots she had recently bought. She took in the new image as she stood before the mirror combing her newly grown hair that now reached almost to her butt. Never again would it be cut short she thought to herself.

Later as she stood in the middle of her new shop she couldn’t help running her hands over the new clippers and the shining scissors. She felt excited as they buzzed in her hand and she couldn’t wait until they would be slicing through some poor unsuspecting guy’s hair. At last, she though, it was time for some pay back. She was interrupted from her daydreams by the sound of the shop door opening. She turned to around see a middle-aged man standing in the doorway.

“Sorry, are you open for business?”, he asked tentatively.

“Yes”, Jenny replied, “In fact, you are my very first customer”.

She watched the man walk into the shop, noting how he struggled to tear his eyes away from her long, slim legs. Definitely the right outfit she thought as the man slipped into her new chair. She shook out the shiny, heavy gown and draped it over his body. The gown swamped the customer completely, reaching almost to the floor despite the height of the chair. The effect was to make him look smaller and maybe even lost. She drew the cape around him and tied it tightly around his neck. Jenny couldn’t help smiling as she took in the image before her – a man helpless in her chair, looking more like a small boy than a grown adult. She placed the thick rubber cape around his shoulders to trap the hair.

“So what are we doing today?”, she asked, a friendly smile on her face.

“Just a trim please”, he replied innocently.

If only you knew what was about to happen she thought to herself, this is the wrong place and the wrong hair stylist for a “trim”. Jenny bent forward and picked up the clippers, deliberately showing the man a long glimpse of her cleavage under the close fitting T-shirt. As she expected, he helped himself to a long look at her body. Boy, that’s going to cost you dear she thought.

“Head down please”, she instructed.

“I don’t normally have it cut with clippers”, he tried to say.

“Don’t worry – I know what I’m doing”, Jenny replied, a smile crossing her lips as she flicked the switch on the clippers, “Trust me”.

As the man leant forward Jenny applied her hand to the back of his head, forcibly pushing his head painfully further forward so that his chin was now touching the cape. Jenny paused as she considered what comb to attach to the clippers. As she thought about what damage she was about to inflict on her unsuspecting customer, the memories of her childhood haircut nightmares came flooding back again. Jenny rejected the #4 comb and reached instead for the #2 comb and slipped it onto her new clippers. As they sprang to life she purposefully started to push them firmly and slowly up the back of his head. She almost gasped as the sharp blades peeled the hair from his head leaving just a faint stubble behind them. Feeling her excitement build Jenny pushed the clippers up still higher, going to the crown of the man’s head.

“You’re not cutting it too short are you?”, the man asked nervously, “I normally don’t have it cut with clippers”, he repeated.

“Just tidying it up for you”, Jenny replied, moving her clippers up and over the crown of his head.

If only you knew Jenny thought to herself. She worked with great concentration as she methodically removed hair from the back of his head. She went over and over every section of his scalp, making absolutely sure that not a single hair was spared the brutal clipping. However, she also took great care to ensure that no hair fell onto the front of the cape just yet. She didn’t want to alert him to just how short she was cutting until it was too late. She moved around to the side of the chair and started to clipper the hair from the sides of his head. As she worked around his head with her clippers, the man tried to lift his head.

“Keep your head still”, Jenny told him brusquely.

As the clippers continued to strip away the customer’s hair Jenny felt a weight lifting from her shoulders. It was strange, but the more she cut, the better she felt. Having mercilessly cropped the back and sides of the man’s head, she finally had to let him lift his head up so that she could go to work on the hair left on the top of his head. As the man caught sight of the damage inflicted on his hair in the mirror his face dropped.

“What have you done to my hair?”, he demanded, as he ran a shaking hand across the now clippered back of his head.

“Just tidying it up as you asked, now sit still while I finish the haircut”, Jenny replied, unfazed by the question.

She knew that by cutting the back first that he would have no choice but to let her finish the cut and clipper what was left to the same length. Ignoring his meek protests, Jenny continued to sweep the clippers across the top of his head in long, slow strokes from front to back. Having reduced all of his hair down to a uniform 1/8 of an inch, Jenny switched off the clippers and placed them back on the shelf. Casting a critical eye over the newly cropped hair Jenny could only think one thing – shorter. She reached down for the smaller edging clippers.

“That’s enough off”, the customer nervously remarked.

“I’m just tidying up the edges”, explained Jenny, as she pushed his head down again.

Firing up the small, chrome clippers Jenny started to shave the nape of his neck, stripping what little hair was left down to bare skin. Again she felt the same warm feeling inside as she started to edge the clippers higher. Rather than just tidying up the hairline, Jenny was now intent on much more. Inch by inch her sharp clippers shaved their brutal path up the back of the man’s head. She wondered how high she should go. Maybe she should let him off lightly she thought. But then again, he did need to be taught a lesson. The area of shaved skin grew wider as her clippers climbed all the way to level with the top of his ears, baring most of the back of his head. She stood back and examined the pale skin exposed by her clippers, running a long, varnished finger nail sharply across the bare skin. Perfect, she thought.

Jenny stepped around to the side of the chair and roughly pushed his head over to one side as she began to carve a wide strip above his ear. The man strained to see how much hair she was shaving away but found his view blocked by Jenny as she continued cutting. Finally, she put down her edging clippers and allowed him to raise his head. He gazed in shock into the mirror, taking in the havoc that had been wreaked on his head. He turned his head from side to side viewing the broad white swath of shaved skin above each of his ears. A two inch wide strip of bare skin now lay above each ear. Jenny walked around behind him and held a mirror to show him the newly shaved back of his head. He stared in disbelief at the broad expanse of pale, hairless skin that was now the back of his head.

“Short enough?”, she asked, trying hard not to grin at the man’s discomfort.

The man struggled to find the words as he finally saw the finished result. As he started to protest, Jenny was already reaching for the shaving lather dispenser, oblivious to his comments. Filling her palm with a generous pile of shaving foam from her new dispenser, she then started to spread the creme lather over the pale, clipper shaved skin above his ears, and across the back of his head. Pausing to wipe her hands on a towel, Jenny picked up the frightening looking razor, deliberately flashing the blade in front of the customer’s startled eyes.

“Now be a good boy and don’t move – I’d hate to cut you”, Jenny instructed.

She held his head firmly with one hand as, with the other hand, she started to scrape the razor across the back of his head. She pressed firmly with the razor making sure that not even the slightest trace of hair would remain. Despite the extreme sharpness of the brand new blade she worked quickly and with great confidence. Having removed all the lather, along with any remains of stubble, she briskly rubbed over the now shaved areas with a towel. Pleased with the result of her work, she rubbed a strong, stinging after-shave into the sensitive skin exposed by her razor. She grinned as she caught him wincing as the burning lotion was rubbed firmly over the shaved skin. She then began removing the cape, briskly brushing his neck and shoulders with a small brush. Stepping shakily from the chair he couldn’t help rubbing a hand across his head, still struggling to take in what had just happened to his hair. He paid for the haircut quietly.

“See you in a couple of weeks”, Jenny joked as the man rushed out of her shop.

Back in the shop Jenny relaxed into the chair and thought over what had just taken place. It had felt good removing the man’s hair. It had felt very good. But, there was also a tinge of disappointment. As short as she had cut his hair, it was not enough. She needed to cut more hair and to cut it shorter. All short. Very short. Shaved? That was it! A head shave. A complete and total head shave with her razor. As the door of her shop swung open she turned with a broad smile on her face and saw a nervous looking young man. She would guess he was in his early twenties; badly fitting suit, ill matched shirt and tie, and scuffed shoes. She looked at his hair with only one thought on her mind. Her first head shave…..