Home » Location » Barbershop » The Truth About Sara (Part 1)

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Sara Waring was a bright young woman with an even brighter future.  A fresh graduate with an MBA and a drive to match her stunning looks, she was built for success.  Average height with perfect taste in clothing, she had a figure that made most women green with envy.  Sara's most striking feature by most accounts was her beautiful hair, a luscious auburn which cascaded down to the middle of her back. It was naturally straight and bounced seductively with each step she would take.  

   Taking an entry level position, was surely only a stepping stone to greater success, and she found working with the equally aggressive young men in her office no real challenge.  She would shrug off their advances like water off a ducks back, and make mincemeat out of them in the boardroom with her innovative ideas and sheer cunning.  This did not go unnoticed by her fellow female coworkers and she was the subject of many conversations around the water cooler.
   Sara's apartment was a simple affair with a single bedroom, efficiency really.  She really had no friends as of yet, leaving all her childhood acquaintances 300 miles away when she moved to New York.  Away from the office, and her comfort zone, she felt awkward and shy.  She would spend most nights curled around a good book or watching television, usually a movie.  Tonight would be a very different experience for Sara.  
   As she quietly watched the news, she thought she heard sobbing outside her door, definitely female and very sad sounding.  Sara was conflicted about opening the door at all after dark, but this was different.  As she peered down the poorly lit hallway, she saw a young woman, perhaps a little younger than she, sobbing into her knees as she sat, her back against the wall.
   "Are you OK?" Sara asked in a too quiet tone so she repeated, "Are you alright?"
   "Oh, God, I'm sorry to have disturbed you.  I'll get going here in a minute." The young woman seemed genuine and started to move towards the stairs.
   "I heard you crying, is there anything I can do?"  The girl looked at Sara, dressed in her pink pajamas, and cracked a small grin."
   "Sure, can I use your phone?"  she asked politely.  The girl sauntered over to Sara's doorway and was invited to step inside to use her phone.  Sara couldn't help but notice that the girl was unkempt, she smelled of cigarettes and her hair was cut in a chopped off bob that barely covered her ears.  It almost appeared to her that someone had simply taken a knife to it, it was so jagged and uneven.  After several calls with no one answering she looked over at Sara.  "Well, I guess I'm walking."
   "Where do you live?"  Sara asked, wanting to help.
   "Hoboken." She sobbed as she began to exit the apartment
   "Well, you can't walk, and the last PATH left ten minutes ago.  Do you need a place to sleep for the night?"  Sara was trying to be sincere, but was honestly hoping she would say no.
   "Serious, that would be great."  She closed the door and set her purse down on the entry floor.  "My name is Gretta."  She held out a street worn hand which Sara promptly took and offered a slight handshake.  
   "Sara.  You can sleep on the sofa if that’s alright.  Do you need a shower or some food?"
   "Both really, I haven't been able to wash in a few days and I'm pretty hungry."  Sara was beginning to realize she had a refugee on her hands, probably homeless.
   "Well, I'll make you a sandwich then.  The bathroom is through the kitchen, and there are towels under the basin."  Sara watched as the girl made her way into her immaculate bathroom and saw her gawk around.
   "This is a really nice place you have here, Sara."  Gretta was already disrobing as Sara pulled the bathroom door closed for her.
   "Thanks, I like it."  Sara started to make a sandwich for Gretta and thought it might be nice to give her a robe so she didn't have to put on her smelly clothes.  She opened the door and placed the robe on the counter, shooting a glance at the blurry image of Gretta through the frosted glass.  She quickly looked away, almost instinctively and stepped back into the kitchen to finish the sandwich.  Sara laid out a plate and a glass of milk at the small kitchen table just as Gretta stepped out of the bath.  
   "You're really nice for doing this Sara, not too many folks out there that would do this for a stranger."  Gretta was sweet in her manner as she sat down at the table.  Sara turned off the TV in the living room and joined her "rescue" at the table.  "So, what do you do?"
   "I work at a financial investment firm, a junior executive."  Sara was almost afraid to ask. "So, what about you, what do you do?"  
   "Nothing right now, I used to wait tables at this place in Hoboken, but that fell through when the place closed down."  Gretta was quickly devouring the sandwich and milk.
   "What brought you here today?"  Sara asked in a concerned tone.
   Gretta looked down at the table and shook her head and tears started to run down her cheeks.  "I'm so embarrassed, I really feel awful."  She sniffed in through her nose.  "I was seeing a guy" she hesitated "for money."  She looked Sara in the eye "It's amazing what you will stoop to when you haven't eaten in a few days."  Gretta finished the sandwich and shot back the rest of the milk.  "You know what the kicker is?"  Gretta spouted "I couldn't go through with it."  Sara was relieved somewhat. "I threw my clothes on while the guy was getting undressed and ran out, he lives a few floors up from here, and that’s where you found me."
   "Well, you did the right thing running, and look how things turned out.  Now you have a meal and a warm place to sleep."  Sara wanted to appear upbeat but the pep talk wasn't working and Gretta continued to be upset.
   "God, I don't even like guys." Gretta paused realizing that she had just outed herself to Sara.  "Sorry, too much information."
   "It's ok, I have nothing against gays or lesbians.  I knew a few at university, and they were some of the nicest people I met there."  Sara pondered over her statement, wondering if she had said anything to offend.
   Sara showed Gretta to the sofa in her living room, and set ab
out making her comfortable.  She thanked her again for her generosity, and reached out a much more presentable hand to Sara.  Much to her surprise, Gretta did not simply shake her hand, but gently kissed the back of it, her lips lingering for a moment as she inhaled through her nose.  Sara did not pull away, although some part of her wanted to.
   “Good night Gretta.”  Sara said in a low but discernable tone.  Gretta looked up from under the blanket that was spread over her, and smiled.
   “Good night, Sara my Sara”  She slowly turned on her side as Sara switched off the light and gazed down at the interesting stranger she had let into her home.  

   Sara had a fitful night, full of strange dreams and frequent awakenings.  She remembered one dream in particular as she sat upright in her bed, the morning sun beaming through her window.  She was naked, which was a very common theme for Sara, but there were strange things being done to her.  There were manacles on her wrists and ankles which seemed to be bolted on, although she was not fastened to anything.  There was a strange sensation of being licked and tickled emanating from her sex.  She also noticed that she was shaved down there and she was very aroused.  She had been so aroused in fact that when she woke there was a small wet patch on the sheet between her legs.  She stripped off her pajamas and sat naked on her white lacquer twin, touching herself, something she rarely did.  “What strange dreams.”  She thought to herself.  She threw her damp pajamas into the hamper and made her way to the bathroom.  Then she remembered Gretta, still sleeping soundly on the sofa, and realized that she was naked.  She thought she should put on a robe, but then remembered that she gave it Gretta to sleep in.  Fortunately, it was Saturday, so she didn’t have to go into the office, but there were some things that she needed to do on the computer from home.  Sara quietly entered the living room and saw Gretta, but what she saw she was not expecting.  Gretta was sleeping, but she had thrown back the blanket, and her robe lay open.  Sara made an almost audible gasp as she started at Gretta’s naked torso.  Her breasts were small, but tipped with large pink nipples each having a silver ring, which was fairly thick.  She also had a navel piercing, which sported a large dangling chain.  Sara’s eyes followed the chain down to Gretta’s sex which was also pierced, several times.  The chain was attached to a ring that appeared to go straight through her clitoris.  Sara shuddered at how it must have felt to get those piercings, but at the same time she couldn’t take her eyes off her.  Gretta also had a tattoo on her smoothly shaved pubis, a heart, with writing inside.  Sara leaned in closer to read the writing and as she did she caught the heady scent of Gretta’s sex.  Sara immediately felt light headed and her own sex tingled warmly as she read the words “My Sweet Slave” in subtle delicate letters.  Gretta’s scent was intoxicating, and Sara leaned in closer so her nose was only inches away from her mound.

   “You can kiss it if you like, Sara.”  The voice startled Sara out of her sexual trance and back to reality, and she stood up, tearing herself away from the moment.  

   “I am so sorry.”  Sara felt guilty and hung her head only to realize that she was standing there completely naked.  She instinctively threw an arm over her breasts and a hand over her sex.

   “I think we’re well past that, don’t you.” Gretta said confidently.  She stripped the rest of the way out of the robe and opened her legs wide, one over the top of the sofa the other dangling off the side. “Kiss it Sara.”  Almost without any control at all Sara knelt down between Gretta’s legs and placed a soft little peck on her shaven mound.  “You call that a kiss?”  Sara opened her mouth and allowed her tongue to touch the silky skin, which now had an even more arousing scent.  “Lower Sara.”  She kissed the crimson tattoo and then licked it, almost as if it was completely natural to her, her tongue settled into Gretta’s open sex.  “Wonderful Sara, that’s lovely.”  Sara was now licking the full length of Gretta’s labia and plunging deep into her sex with her probing tongue.  Gretta began to moan softly and then louder and Sara labored in this newfound euphoria.  Gretta looked down to notice that Sara’s pubic hair was soaked with her juices.  She reached over and gently touched Sara’s pussy.  She started at first but then settled back to her task.  Gretta skillfully tweaked Sara’s clit as she played, evoking loud, unabashed moans from her busy little mouth.  She grabbed Sara by the back of her auburn mane and redirected her mouth over her clit.  The two girls continued for another minute until neither one could hold back a roaring orgasm.  Sara collapsed on the floor at base of the sofa, her naked form now completely visible to Gretta.  “Did you enjoy that Sara?” Gretta mused.

   “Oh my God!  That was the most incredible experience of my life.”  Sara gushed.  “I always knew there was something but never acted on it Gretta.  Thank you for opening that door for me.”  Sara caressed the only part of Gretta available to her from the floor.

   “Sara,” more tentatively now “Did you enjoy having me tell you what to do?”

   “I have to say, that I did, without question.”  Sara surprising herself with her honest answer, as she sat up to look at Gretta.

   “Would you like to experience that feeling on a regular basis?”  More confident now, Gretta reached down to cradle Sara’s chin in her hand.  “I know you would, search your emotions Sara, let go of your inhibitions.”  Gretta placed a passionate kiss on Sara’s mouth their tongues darting over each other wantonly.  Suddenly Gretta broke the kiss and squeezed Sara’s face with her hand until her pretty mouth puckered open and a small spindle of drool spun off her lower lip.  Sara started to wipe it away, but Gretta shook her head and pushed Sara’s hand away, allowing more drool to escape her mouth, dripping onto her breasts and belly.  Sara finally nodded, which was followed by an even more violent kiss, one that Sara was not prepared for as their tongues explored every interior aspect of their mouths.  Their teeth clicked together as Gretta probed deeper and then into the top of Sara’s throat evoking a gag reflex from her.  “Good girl Sara.”  Gretta released her grip on Sara’s face. “I want you to tell me that this is what you truly desire Sara.  I want you to tell me that you want to be my slave.”  Suddenly the gravity of the situation flowed over Sara.  She was about to give herself completely to this young w
oman.
Sara thought about her position at the firm, her family, her life being completely upturned in a single moment.  Here was this girl who was so desperate that she resorted to prostitution to eat, now ready to take over her life.  What was she doing?  She was going to say yes, she knew she was, it was right there on the tip of her tongue.  A battle was ensuing, her pussy against her mind.  She looked down at her naked body, lines of her own spittle drying on her breasts.  Suddenly she burst out.

   “Yes.”  

   “Yes, what, Sara?”  Gretta asked sternly

   “Yes, Gretta, I want to be your slave.”  Sara bowed her head more out of defeat than from reverence.

   “It’s Miss G, from now on Sara.”  Gretta boasted

   “Yes Miss G, I am your slave.”  Sara continued to bow her head.

   “Kiss my feet Sara, now!”  The sweetness now gone, Gretta’s voice was stern and commanding.  

   “Yes Miss G.” Sara crawled over to the base of her sofa and lowered her lips to Gretta’s feet.  She gently kissed the tops of her feet but Gretta raised her foot exposing the still dirty sole.  

   “I didn’t wash my feet last night Sara, just an oversight I suppose, lick them clean.”   Gretta was forceful and grabbed Sara’s hair to pull her face into her foot.  Sara began licking and slowly the encrusted soil began to come away into her mouth.  This new smell was not nearly as intoxicating as her Gretta’s pussy and the pungent odor permeated her nostrils as she worked between Gretta’s toes.  Even so, Sara’s pussy was dripping again.  The degradation was turning her on and Gretta knew it. “Do you enjoy this Sara, licking my stinky feet?”  Sara nodded not wanting to break away from her duties.  “You will do it often, is that understood?”  Sara nodded again, moaning as she dove into the other foot, cleansing it as thoroughly as the other.  Gretta finally tired of the attention to her feet and pushed Sara away with the ball of her foot, causing her to fall backwards onto her bottom.  “Look at that face, all smeared and dirty, what a lovely sight.”  Gretta giggled.  Sara’s face was indeed smeared with dirt laden drool.  Gretta hopped up and grabbed Sara by the arm and led her to the bathroom.  “Just look at yourself Sara.” Sara gazed at her reflection in the gilded mirror.   Her chin was a mass of dried drool and dirt, her hair was completely tangled and she just looked different.  Gone was the confident, business savvy executive, in her place was a sniveling worm of a slave who just licked a few weeks’ worth of grime off another girls feet.  “Let’s clean you up shall we.”  Gretta grabbed the washcloth that she had used the night before and wet it in the sink.  It smelled of sweat and ass but Sara said nothing as it was rubbed over her face, removing the soil but leaving a smelly film of her Mistress’ strong body scent behind.  Sara’s head was humiliated as the strong odor dried on her face.  “You know, it’s wonderful that the curtains match the carpet but this,” she tugged roughly at Sara’s ginger pubic hair “it has to go, and now!”  

   “Oh please Gretta….” Sara felt the sting of a firm slap to her right cheek.  

   “Who am I?” Gretta screamed

   “Miss G.”  Sara was shocked at the pain in her cheek, she peeked in the mirror and the distinct outline of fingers began to emerge in crimson on her pale white face.  “I am sorry, Miss G.  I am just so overwhelmed right now.  All these feelings and emotions, it won’t happen again.”  Sara sank to her knees and kissed her Mistress’ feet until she told her to stop.

   “Ok, sit on the toilet and spread your legs slave Sally.”  Sara was confused by her Mistress using another name.

   “Miss G, my na….”

   “Your name is Sally, you slut!  Sara is far too sophisticated a name for a slave like you so from now on it’s Sally, understood.”   Gretta smiled wickedly as she knew that Sara was eating this up.  “Who are you?”

   “I’m slave Sally.”  Sara hated the name, but it also turned her on to be called by a different name.  Gretta deftly trimmed away Sara’s ginger curls until nothing remained but stubble.  “Just like the dream” she mumbled.  Gretta heard but said nothing as she spread a thin layer of soap over her mound and pussy.  As her Mistress shaved her, Sara melted into a deep calm, one she had only felt in childhood, secure, safe.  She was awakened by a firm slap you her privates.  

   “What do think Sally?”  Sara ran her fingers over the smooth skin and folds of her denuded sex and smiled.

   “It’s wonderful, Miss G.  Thank you for shaving me.”  Sara was very aware of her pussy now; it seemed to be more alive.

   “Well slave, don’t get used to it, I expect you to shave it each morning.  That ginger bush is gone for good Sally.”  Sara looked down at her smooth white pussy and ran her fingers over it.
“No playing without my permission either is that understood, your cunt belongs to me now along with the rest of you.”  Sara suddenly felt very small.  “Speaking of bushes, I’ve got to do something with my hair.”  Gretta played with her hacked up bob. “I cut it all off the other day in a fit of anger over losing my place.”  Sara stared as Gretta played and pulled at her ragged hair.  “I guess there’s really nothing to do but finish the job.”  Gretta looked over at Sara who was playing with her hair. “You look like you could use a good cut too Sally, one that suits your new position in life.”  Sara’s eyes shot open, not her hair.  Oh God, she thought, she’s going to force me to cut my hair.  “Yes your hair looks too much like Sara, when we get home you’ll look more like Sally.”  Gretta grabbed her clothes which were piled up in the corner of the bathroom and threw them at Sara. “Here, you put these on.”  Gretta walked out of the room and closed the door behind her to leave Sara to her thoughts.  

She sorted through the dirty clothes that stank of cigarettes and body odor and found the underwear.  She pulled up the crusty panties against her newly shaved cunt.  They had definite skid marks and dried pussy juice and smelled like it.  There
was no bra, only a wife beater undershirt which also smelled of dried sweat.  The pants were desert fatigues which fit her rather well so they must be close to the same size, she thought.
There was no other top, just a ratty jean jacket with various patches all over it.  There were no socks, just a beat up pair of converse sneakers.  Sara raised one of the shoes up to her nose and smelled the pungent aroma of Miss G’s feet along with the rubbery sourness of old sneaker.  Sara slipped each of her white, manicured feet into the stinky all-stars and laced them up, just in time for Gretta to come through the door dressed in one of her best suits.  “What do you think Sally, does it “Suit” me?”  Gretta laughed as she looked at Sara in her street clothes.  “You sure do stink Sally.”  She snickered “Oh well, you’re only a slave after all, you don’t know any better.”
   
   “Miss G that is my best suit that I use for work.”  Sara said demurely.

   “I know slave, are you telling me I cannot wear it.”  Gretta asked firmly

   “No Miss G, it’s just…”

   “Do you trust me my sweet slave Sally?”  Sincerely, and looking straight into Sara eyes.

   “Yes, Miss G.”  Sara submitted.

   “Good.  There’s going to be some changes around here anyway seeing as I am moving in, but we’ll discuss those later.”  Sara could only imagine what arrangements and changes were going to be made to her organized life.  Gretta grabbed Sara by the arm and told her to grab her purse.  She took everything out of Sara’s Prada bag and put them in her beat up leather pouch purse and then in turn put her belongings into Sara’s.  “Let’s go!”

   As they walked down the street, Sara became very aware of the looks of contempt and disgust people were showing towards her.  She was also aware that her odor was strong enough to be picked up by passersby.  Their noses twitched as they caught her smell.  Sara was very humiliated.  Meanwhile Gretta looked wonderful, except for her hair which she had styled as best she could before they left.  Sara’s hair was as unkempt as it was after their play session that morning, not having brushed it, it looked right with her outfit.

   “The first place we see, what do you think Sally?”  Sara was confused, but not for long.  They turned a corner and there it was, a red and white striped pole, spinning smoothly in its glass case.  “There, that’s where we’ll go.”  Gretta grinned with excitement as she once again grabbed Sara’s arm and led her into the shop. 

   There was an older man, sitting in a single chair, getting a very short cut by another older man with not a single hair on his head.  How ironic, Sara thought, a barber with no hair.  Her fear began to boil over as she realized that this old man was going to take her long auburn locks away from her.  The old barber turned to see the two young ladies sitting in the chairs.

   “I don’t do long cuts ladies, maybe you should find a salon.”  The man in the chair chuckled a bit as he looked up in the mirror at Gretta and Sara.

   “We’ll be ok.”  Gretta said confidently.

   “Ok….I’ll be done here in a minute.”  Sara’s heart sank as now she knew that she would be losing her wonderful mane.  The old barber finished up with the crew cut her was doing and dusted off the fine white hairs off the chair.  The older gentleman glanced over at the ladies and shook his head as he walked out, the door chime marking his exit.  “Well, who’s first?”  He motioned to the chair, cape in hand like an old matador.  Gretta shot out of her seat and flopped into the chair.  “So…like I said I don’t do long cuts, how would you like it then?”  Gretta pondered for a moment and then an idea hit her.  
   
   “How about a nice short men’s cut.”  With that the old barber draped the cape over Gretta’s shoulders and fastened it around her neck with a thin strip of stretchy paper.

   “Ok…how short are we going here? I can taper the back and sides and still leave a little length or I can do whitewalls and shave around the ears and up the back.”

   “Hmmm…whitewalls I think.”  Gretta said confidently.

   “Are you sure that’s very short.  How about the top?  Leave a little to comb or buzz it.”

   “Oh I’m sure.” Gretta beamed. “And definitely buzz it.”  Sara could feel the inside of her thighs getting wet but she couldn’t believe she was aroused at the idea of her Mistress getting buzzed.  Gretta was aroused too and was sure she was soiling those expensive panties she was wearing.  The barber grabbed a set of clippers off the hooks under his counter and cleaned them off with a small brush.  There was a loud snap, to which both girls jumped, then a steady buzzing as the clippers were brought to Gretta’s mousy mop.  

   “Sure?”  The old barber queried.  Gretta could only nod as the clippers were placed at her forehead and drawn back to her crown.  Clumps of brown hair tumbled to her lap and off her shoulders as the barber buzzed her head down to an even quarter inch all over.  Sara was in awe as she watched, her legs tight together to hide her excitement as her Mistress was shorn.  Gretta seemed like she had left the building, her eyes looked straight ahead as the barber switched clippers.  These he ran up the back of her head, angling off as he reached the crown.  They were shearing her to the skin, leaving only a shadow of stubble behind.  All around her head he worked until her back and sides were white with only a hint of brown fur.  The barber then worked to blend the top and the sides.  The next clippers were very small and grey, they even removed the shadow of brown leaving what appeared to be smooth scalp behind.  Sara was very close to orgasm as she stared in both horror and arousal at the spectacle before her.  The small clippers were taken nearly to the top of the sides and almost to the crown in back.  Gretta moaned just slightly, and although Sara knew what was happening, I think the barber didn’t notice.  There was a whirring sound as the barber took up a dollop of foam from a chrome machine and spread it around Gretta’s ears and nape.  He started about two inches above her ears and shaved down, leaving shiny smooth scalp in their wake, wielding the straight razor with years of skill.  Working around as he had with the clippers he s
haved her.  The nape was smooth past the middle of Gretta’s head, even with the sides.  I think the barber was onto Gretta as he smiled as each strip of stubble was removed.  “Almost done” he said as he spun the chair around.  “Head down.” He pushed Gretta’s chin into her chest and grabbed a black comb and the small clippers.  He clipped the top of Gretta’s head with the comb flat on the top.  Fine little hairs filtered down over Gretta’s face as he worked.   He then grabbed a very fine comb and repeated the process, even finer hairs; almost like dust came floating by.  “Ok” He said as he flipped the cape off, an avalanche of brown curls floating to the tiled floor.  “What do think?”  Gretta looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.  She had a severe high and tight with a landing strip.  The only hair on her head was a thin brownish horseshoe that ran from temple to temple.

   “I love it, wonderful.”  Gretta looked over at Sara who was shrinking into the chair.  

   “Sixteen dollars for that young lady.”  The old man made his way to the counter.

   “Can we pay for both of us at the end?”  Gretta asked, as she motioned for Sara to get in the chair.
   “Sure, why not.  I didn’t think red was getting her hair cut, it’s so long.”

   “Sally here will be getting cut today definitely.”  Gretta forced Sara down into the chair and gave her a glare of disapproval.  Sara slumped down in the chair, as if that would stop the proceedings.  “She’s a homeless girl that I took in, and I need to clean her up so she’s low maintenance.  The barber combed through Sara’s crowning glory, allowing the long silken locks to float down the back of the chair.

   “My God, this is beautiful hair Sally.”  The barber admired the locks by running his fingers down their length.  Unceremoniously the barber swung the cape around Sara and fastened it tightly around her neck.  “This girl needs a bath, poor thing, pew.”  Sara was mortified at the barber’s comments, while Gretta grinned from ear to ear. “So uh…”

   “Gretta”

   “So, Gretta how are we cutting it?  You know I would love to have this hair to sell to a wigmaker I know.  Has it been colored?”  The barber seemed excited.

   “Sally, answer the nice barber.”

   “No….never, it’s my natural color.”  Sara seemed completely deflated.

   “Good, good even better.”  The barber fumbled through his drawers and came up with a rubber band, which he fastened tightly around Sara’s auburn tresses.  “So…Gretta…the cut?”

   “Oh, I think it all better come off.”  Sara jumped but was held down firmly in the chair by Gretta’s hand.

   “All off….. Like a buzz cut, or all of like shaved?”  The barber still running his fingers through Sara’s locks.

   “Oh, I think shaved, yes definitely shaved bald.”  Gretta stared intently at Sara who looked terrified.

   “Ok, bald it is.  As long as that’s ok with you stinky, I mean Sally.” Both the barber and Gretta chuckled.  Once again Gretta gave a stern look to Sara who meekly nodded her head. 
The barber slid the rubber band as tightly to Sara’s scalp as he could. “So, I’m going to do this in one step to preserve the length.  Gretta if you could grab the ponytail and hold it up while I shear her it will be easier.”  Gretta quickly stepped in and pulled up on the luscious red cord as the barber grabbed the small clippers, the grey ones that sheared Gretta to the skin.  Sara saw them as they were placed at her forehead and without hesitation drawn back over her head.  Slowly the fear subsided and the arousal took over as each pass brought her closer to orgasm.  The clippers felt like they were cutting more than her hair, they were severing her ties to her past.  With each pass of the clippers, she became more and more submissive, less and less confident.  The warm metal felt so erotic as it glided over her scalp.  There was a slight pain as the very last of her hair was severed and ponytail fell free into Gretta’s hands.  With that pain Sara moaned loudly and there was no mistaking what had happened even to the barber.  “I guess she likes it. Good.  We’re not finished.”  He took the ponytail from Gretta and placed on the counter, neatly straightening it out.  Sara heard the whirring of the shaving cream machine again and knew it was for her.  For her head, which moments ago was a thing of beauty and now was nothing but a bald knob.  The barber spread the cream over her entire head and starting at the front took Sara down to bare skin.  The barber looked at Gretta. “Shiny bald”  Gretta nodded and this time so did Sara.  Once again shaving cream was spread over her head and the barber reshaved her in the opposite direction, removing any trace of stubble whatsoever.  Sara’s head was as smooth as glass.  He put some creamy liquid on a cloth and rubbed it over her head and let it sit for a minute, while he called someone on the phone.  The barber then took a very soft cotton cloth and rubbed Sara’s head, first slowly and then quickly.  He had buffed her head to a mirror shine.
“Watch” He took a few drops of water and dripped them onto her head and they immediately beaded and rolled off.  “Just like my Buick, eh!”  For the first time Sara cracked a smile as the barber whisked the cape off her.  With it came the odor of her, and both Gretta and the barber waved their hands in front of their faces.  “I suggest you take her and hose her down somewhere, jeepers.”  Sara’s smile grew wider as she realized she enjoyed the humiliation.  She reached up and touched her glistening scalp and a shot of electricity ran through her from tip to toe.

   The door suddenly chimed and in walked another older man, who approached the barber and some words were spoken.  He picked up the ponytail and admired its color and length.  He looked at Gretta.  “Was this yours?”

   “Why yes, I just had to get it cut off.”  The barber was silent but knew there was a game of some sort going on.  Sara sat stunned, not even to be able to take credit for her own hair.

   “How about three hundred.”  The barber rubbed his chin and came back with four.  “Meet me in the middle at three fifty and we have a deal.”  Hands were
shaken, including Gretta’s and the hair was placed in a brown paper bag and disappeared out the door with the man who commented on Sara as he left. “Is Chrome dome with you?” looking at Gretta, who nodded.  “Well, he’s the baldest kid I’ve ever seen, sorry kid” and he walked out.  Sara was too aroused to care that she had been mistaken for a boy.  Gretta and the barber split the money for the hair but still had Sara pay him for their haircuts, thirty-two dollars, plus tip.

To be Continued…

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