I have written many stories for this site. All outlined various scenarios that I found particularly interesting. But never have I had a story that existed outside of my own imagination. Over the years I have tried manipulating stylists and partners into cutting hair short but this always ended in failure, embarrassment and sometimes breakups. But this summer was different. This story is true. 

A year ago, with my encouragement, my partner cut her chin length bob short for the summer. It turned out about 2½ inches on top and 1 inch around the sides, but she let it grow out over the winter. The girl who did it used the clippers around the back and ears which was probably a #6. I took some photos. It looked really cute and she loved how easy it was to look after, promising she’d get it short again this summer. 

Just for fun I scanned a front and side view into Photoshop and created a cut that was much closer to 1 inch on top and 3/8th inch around the ears, looking like a #3 clipper. Over the winter and spring these new photos lay on my desk and from time to time she would see them, but the cut had been so far back, she never realized they had been altered. Still I always carried a front and side view with me since I liked them so much. 

As this summer approached I asked if she was considering getting it short again, but her stylist had retired and she was looking for a new place. This meant time and frustration. We had just started a 3 week camping vacation. It was a rainy day so we headed for a motel. She was swearing at how unruly her hair was, so I suggested if she was serious about cutting it, either she find a place or I would. She said, “Go ahead!” I was surprised but welcomed the opportunity. 

I found a neat little unisex shop just 10 minutes away. The guy was Jamie.  I told him we were on vacation and staying at the motel that night. I made up a story of how she gets mad at her hair every summer, and gets it cropped really close, but back home some stylists refuse to go so short. “Now we are camping and she’s desperate again. I’ve been given the task of finding someone.” I asked if he had any concerns about buzzing a girl’s hair with short sides and back. He said, “No problem! It’s whatever she wants!” I told him we were heading out in the morning so we set an appointment for the end of day, 5:30.  

I showed him the photos and made up another story. “I took these last summer. She’s wants everything really close again. We both loved this look, but it grows so fast. It was just an inch over the top and less than ½” up the sides and back. It felt great! There was nothing long enough to even slide between your fingers. Unfortunately in just a couple of weeks it lost that nice feel.” 

He studied the photos and asked if it was done with clippers. I said, “The girl started at the back with the #3 and went straight up with one stroke. She just held her breath. I thought she was going to pee her pants. It was fun to watch. She loved that brutal first sweep past the point of no return. But it quickly lost that nice feeling when she ran her finger tips over it.” He smiled. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking.. Maybe the whole story just sounded like the fantasy of a pervert.  

It was about 5:15 when we got in the car to head over to the salon. She was recalling how she liked the cut from the last summer and was going to ask him to keep the sides close and high. I hadn’t expected that! In fact in the photo I had already shown had the sides and back clippered all the way up near the crown of her head. But I was pleased she was embracing the event. 

By now the top had grown over 5 inches, and the back about 3. She was unaware I had said anything to Jamie about the cut. Once in the chair, he asked, “So where are you folks from?” We told him but it was a town over 200 miles away, but he’d never heard of it. She explained how she loved it really short last summer, so I produced the photos again. He looked at them, “So this is what we’re doing?” Relying on her memory, and not realizing the photos showed the cut much shorter than it had actually been, she went on to explain “I want it really short up the sides, like it’s ok to go close up high, but I want to leave the top a bit longer.” Hearing that was a major turn-on, but I was disappointed about leaving the top longer so I could not resist the temptation to step in and offer my two cents worth. “You don’t want to have the top too long! It might not look right with the sides really close.” Jamie listened. She ran her fingers through the top and it appeared she was feeling self-conscious in this setting, or simply outnumbered. So she said, “I don’t mean a whole lot, maybe just ½’ or something!” Wow! I thought. If he followed the photos it would mean the top would be 1 ½”, and the sides less than ½”. That would be great but at this point I could say nothing. Was he really going to clipper the sides and back with a #3?  All I could do was watch in silence.  

Jamie studied the photos again for a moment. Did he think she wanted it closer? But I wasn’t sure he believed anything I had told him. Then he asked, “Your ok with clippers?” My heart sank. If she said “No”, then my credibility would be lost, and the game would be over. She shrugged her shoulders and as if remembering how the girl used them around her neck and ears last summer, gave a simple nod. I added, “You liked the #3 didn’t you!” She said nothing. I watched him pick up the clippers and snap an attachment over the blades. I was nervous… was this really going to happen? Would my interference be found out? Was I going to be in deep shit? 

 It looked like a #3. That was Ok and exciting. He pressed the clippers to the base of her neck and immediately pushed straight up the back of her head and right over the crown. I was crapping my pants. It was a classic case of “No turning back!” Gobs of hair 3 and 4 inches long dropped to the floor behind her. Seeing that strip buzzed right up and over the crown of her head in one sweep was awesome. 

The clippers were a substantial size and never struggled. Even with her thick hair they just swept through everything, leaving it nice and even. He worked his way around the right side, mowing through 2-4 inches of sleek shine, one quick stroke after another. When he came to the front he paused, and used his fingers to flick the top hair back. Starting again on the side where he’d just cut he pressed up to the top and then right across her head shaving through the long hair that was over 5 inches. Sheets of hair rolled back and tumbled to the floor behind her. I was freaking out. She sat there numbed and in a frozen stare. In little more than 2 minutes she had a complete #3 buzz over her entire head! He ran his hand over the carpet of bristles. “That’s the just a bit less than the ½” you wanted for the top!” She remained speechless. I was starting t
o feel guilty, I’d meddled too much. She had wanted the top ½” longer than last year, not shaved a #3 all over! This had gone too far. 

He turned to the counter and switched the attachments. When he brought the clippers back to the base of her neck I was ready to stop him. He was going to shave too close! But she had said it was ok to do the sides. I know she never intended anything like this! I took a deep breath and remained silent. Maybe he’d just do the neck line; and besides we were on vacation. This would have time to grow, right? 

Suddenly there was scalp! One sweep right up the back! In just a single second she was helpless to stop it. Skin showed through every hair. It happened so fast. He pulled away just an inch from the crown of her head. It was almost shaved. With rapid precision he moved around her head, each stroke reaching right up the side. I was feeling my pants getting damp. He paused. “High enough?” Any higher she’d be heading for a Mohawk. Sheswallowed hard, then just nodded. There was no way she could escape! 

Just as I thought this was the ultimate cut, he removed the attachment and used the bare clippers to shave her neck around her ears. I mean it was SHAVED!  

As he removed the cape he ran his hand up the back of her head caressing the shaved skin and chuckled. “That gets rid of it. Nice and close for your vacation there now. Folks back home won’t recognize you. They’re going to be calling you “Sir!” “ 

When she got down from the chair she was in stunned silence. She looked at me. I was afraid she might cry. She glanced around the room nervously. I paid for the cut and we headed out to the car. I was too upset to say anything but I kept staring at her. As the cool air hit her scalp she reached up and ran her hand over the back of her head. She said nothing until we got in the car. She turned the rear view mirror and looked at the side of her head. “God! I’m like… shaved!” She leaned forward and began to shake. She ran her hands up the back and over the crown of her head, right to her forehead, then swallowed hard.

I tried to sound reassuring, “It’s shorter than last year but it looks good!” Was I lying or trying to protect my conscience. She fingered the side around her ear! “I’m freaking out! Why would he shave it this close?” I took a deep breath. I tried to sound supportive, “It happened so fast. I never saw it coming. When he went right over the top I was in shock.” I reached over and caressed the back of her head. I could feel the skin through her shorn hair.  

Six weeks has past and there has been no talk of a haircut…. maybe next year!