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Karen O’Brien stepped out of the warm embrace of her morning shower and she briskly began to towel herself dry. A quick glance at the clock on the wall indicated she was well on time in her usual morning routine before another day at the bank where she had worked for nearly 20 years. She paused briefly in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, relieved that at the age of forty she was still the possessor of a fine body. Not that it was something which was easily attained. She spent many hours down at her local gym pounding the treadmill, earphones clamped to her head, trapped in her own private world.

Karen began to dress in her usual plain white, silk lingerie. She enjoyed the sensation of the sheer fabric sliding over her still taut body. She opened her wardrobe and glanced along the rack of clothes that hung there – a parade of plain, white long-sleeved blouses, plain black business suits – all the same. Nothing too showy. Nothing too revealing. Nothing that might cause anyone to notice her in a crowd. It had always been this way. Karen found the attention of anyone a source of acute embarrassment and she was always happiest fading into the background.

Almost fully dressed in her “uniform” for work, Karen spent some time drying and brushing her shoulder length brown hair, the same style that she had worn since high school. Every six weeks she ventured somewhat reluctantly into her local hair salon and sat nervously as her trusted hairdresser trimmed the smallest amount of hair from just the very ends of her locks. Years ago her stylist had given up trying to persuade Karen that maybe it was time to try something more adventurous.

Just before leaving her modest apartment Karen slipped her feet into a pair of plain black shoes with a conservative 2 inch heel. She paused for a final check in the mirror just to make sure that indeed nothing had changed about the way she looked. Reassured that she looked the same, Karen left for the hour long drive to the bank.

Although she now held quite a senior position at the bank as head of personal loans, it had been a long and slow climb to that level of seniority. Several times she had been passed over for promotion and been told in feedback that, while they couldn’t fault her performance, there was just something missing. In the end she was promoted simply because of the amount of time that she had worked for them. Colleagues had tried to suggest that maybe she needed to stand out more at work, to do something to make more of an impression.

After parking her somewhat modest car in the bank’s parking lot Karen made her way to the small corner office that now carried her name on the door. After hanging her jacket on the hook on the back of her office door she sat down at her desk and glanced through her appointments for the day. She was disturbed by a firm knock on her office door.

“It’s open” she called out.

The door swung open to reveal the identity of her visitor. Karen was momentarily stunned as she took in the figure that now stood framed in the doorway of her office. The young woman was perhaps around 5 feet 6 in height with the lithe slim figure of a dancer. Her toned legs were encased in a pair of shiny black leather trousers that seemed to cling to her body. Her feet were covered by a pair scarlet leather ankle boots with what must have been a 4 inch stiletto heel. Above the leather trousers she wore a long sleeved silk blouse that matched the scarlet of her ankle boots. The blouse was partially covered by an open leather jacket. From the sleeves of the jacket Karen was entranced by the long slender fingers ending in carefully painted finger nails. The scarlet of the nail varnish stood out starkly against the black of the leather jacket.

The young woman’s face had been made up by someone who was clearly skilled in the application of cosmetics. Her eyes were beautifully accentuated by skillfully applied eye shadow and eye liner so that they stood out from her porcelain like skin. Her cheek bones were similarly enhanced by the blusher. The scarlet lipstick covering her lips made her mouth look almost threatening and yet inviting at the same time. But it was perhaps her hair above all that left Karen lost for words. It was jet black in color and had been carefully looked after so that it shone brightly under the harsh fluorescent lighting in her office. But the cut – so striking, so harsh, and so brave.

Karen had seen women before who had a short haircut like a man, but this was different. This was most definitely a man’s haircut on woman. There had been no attempt to soften the edges or tone down the severity of the style. It must have been the work of hair clippers Karen thought as the edges were so sharp and so clearly defined. In length it was maybe an inch long at most but it had been brutally tapered down to bare skin for maybe an inch above each of her ears. The hair on the top of her head appeared to have been heavily gelled and stood upright almost like a brush in appearance.

The woman stood framed in the doorway for a moment, turning her head from side to side as if to showcase her somewhat startling hairstyle. Karen was suddenly aware that she had said nothing for several minutes and also that she was staring. She blushed and her gaze dropped hurriedly to scan the papers on her desk.

“Please sit down Miss….er….er…..Mayhew”, she stuttered.

The young woman – Karen noticed from her file that she was 22 years old – strode confidently into the room and sat in front of her.  Normally in this situation customers would often appear nervous or on edge, but this woman just stared defiantly back at her. Karen couldn’t put her finger on it but there was something about her. For a moment she almost thought it was desire, but then hurriedly dismissed that from her mind. Karen had not dated for many, many months now and even the thought of being attracted to another woman she found frightening. 

Karen struggled to regain her composure and take control of what was supposed to be a business meeting.

“Well, I’ve reviewed the relevant figures for your business proposal Miss Mayhew and there are some points that do cause us some concern here at the bank”, Karen stated.

“It’s Natasha” the woman replied.

“Oh, okay” Karen replied, “Natasha then, I’m not convinced about the long term viability of this business. Your hair salon idea is hardly something new and your prices seem somewhat excessive”.

Natasha didn’t look fazed at all by the harsh comments. In fact she smiled at Karen.

“Maybe you should come and see the business – my salon – before you make a final decision and then maybe you will appreciate this is a special place”.

Karen flicked through her calendar on her computer.

“I’m sorry Natasha but I am fully booked with business meetings for the rest of the day” she replied.

Natasha smiled confidently.

“You have the address of my salon – I’ll see you around 7”.

With that she stood up and almost swaggered out of the room.

Karen sat there in confusion trying to work out exactly what had just happened, but more importantly she sat there struggling to understand the wave of emotions sweeping through her mind. She was not used to loan meetings like this – usually the roles were reversed and she was the one who was in control. But part of her also enjoyed the feeling of someone else being in the driving set. She was also attracted to
someone who was so confident in who they were and had the confidence to dress in such a brave and challenging manner.

She ran her finger through her own hair as she also thought of that haircut, the severity of the style. She could not even begin to imagine how someone could walk into a hair salon and, not only ask for that cut, but also sit there and watch it being done.  She looked down at the address of the salon on the customer’s file and noticed that it was actually on her route home. Surely it would be good business practice for her to check out fully a business that was asking for capital from the bank.

Karen struggled through the rest of her meetings with customers for the remainder of the day. When the final client finally left her office she shut down her PC and left the bank, heading for the company car park. Once inside her car she sat there for a while contemplating exactly what her next step would be. Her work mobile phone suddenly rang and she automatically took the call.

“Hello, Karen O’Brien speaking”, she spoke into her handset.

“You’ll have to hurry if you’re not going to be late”, a strangely familiar voice instructed.

Karen started to speak but the firm voice cut in again.

“I’m waiting – hurry up!” the voice commanded and the call was terminated.

Karen double-checked the number listed on the display of her phone and was not surprised to see that it belonged to Natasha. She started her car and swung onto the road to follow her normal route home. Thirty minutes later and she was driving past the row of familiar shops and she glanced briefly from side to side looking for a shop front that she didn’t recognize. She didn’t spot anything new so she turned into a small car park on her right and parked her car. I don’t have to do this she thought. This is crazy. But somewhere deep inside some deep compulsion was driving her actions.

Karen stepped out of her car and started to walk along the row of shops scanning for a hair salon. Nothing sprang into view so she turned around and started to re-trace her steps. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a smoked glass door between two shops with the single word “Cuts” discreetly stenciled onto the glass. Karen paused to make sure she had the right address and then, after hesitatingly briefly, pushed the door. But the door was locked. She tried again but the door was definitely locked. Was that disappointment she felt?

She then noticed a small intercom at the side of the door and pressed the button.

“It’s Karen” she spoke into the microphone, noting the tremor in her voice and the perspiration on her palms. There was a dull buzzing sound and then she pushed open the door. On the other side there was just a steep staircase in a narrow hall, the walls painted in a matt black colour. At the top of the stairs Karen found another smoke glass door, but the door was propped open – ready and waiting for her.

With some trepidation she stepped through the door not knowing exactly what to expect. As she crossed the threshold the door suddenly swung shut behind her and she heard the distinct noise of a lock clicking shut. It was pitch black on the other side and Karen paused not sure what to do next.   Suddenly the room was filled with light. Her hand swung up to her face as she was momentarily caught off guard by the bright lights.

“You’re late” a familiar voice barked.

As her eyes grew accustomed to the brightness she looked around the room now revealed before her. The walls were painted in a glaring white color and the floor was tiled with a stark black and white design. The impression was almost clinical. On the wall to her left she saw a somewhat impressive display of different hair capes in a range of colors and materials. In the center of the room was a single barber’s chair – black leather and silver chrome – gleaming in the light. On the wall facing the chair was a large floor-to-ceiling mirror. Either side of the chair were two stainless steel trolleys which contained an imposing arrange of hair styling and cutting equipment. Karen noticed there must have been at least six or seven types of hair clippers.

But most imposing of all was the vision that was Natasha. She had changed into a skin-tight leather dress that clung to every curve of her young body. Except below the waist where the dress had a brief flared and pleated skirt. The leather was so shiny it looked almost wet and Karen wondered just how she had managed to squeeze into it.

Natasha smiled and walked towards Karen purposefully. She stood very close to her and then reached up with both her hands and took Karen’s face in her hands. She pressed her scarlet lips gently against Karen’s mouth and held them together. She pulled back and gently and whispered into Karen’s ear.

“I knew you would come”.

Karen began to speak but Natasha put a finger gently to her lips to silence her.

“Not now my pet”.

Natasha kissed Karen again, this time more firmly and at the same times wrapped her arms around the older woman’s body. Karen was surprised at the strength of the young woman and also surprised at the feelings now surging through her body.  Natasha pulled back once more and looked deep into Karen’s eyes. 

“Are you ready to be mine?” Natasha asked.

Unable to speak Karen simply nodded slowly.

Natasha took her by the hand and let towards a door at the back of the salon. On the other side was a smaller room with a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, and a small shower cubicle in the corner. Natasha smiled briefly at her new found pet and then began to slowly undress her. Karen stiffened slightly as she felt her formal business attire being gently removed from her body. In a short space of times Karen was left standing in just her plain white silk bra and panties and her shoes.

“Oh dear” Natasha said, “Clearly we have a lot of work to do on your style my pet. Now – into the chair”.

Karen walked slowly and nervously towards the leather barber’s chair. She ran a shaking hand over the shiny leather upholstery. She turned to look questioningly at Natasha.

“Sit!”

Karen lowered her semi-naked body into the cold embrace of the imposing chair. She gazed into the reflection of the mirror in front of her. In the mirror she watched as Natasha walked to the back of the room and carefully selected one of the capes – pink latex. She shook the cape out and then lowered it over the sitting figure of her latest pet. The heavy material enveloped Karen and hung down almost to the shining tiles of the salon. Karen was surprised when instead of drawing together a string or a strip of Velcro to close the cape, the cape was closed with a stiff band of leather and a shining metal buckle at the back of her neck.

Natasha walked away and then returned once more with a second cape. The cape only covered her shoulders and was made of a lighter silver material. She smoothed the capes over Karen’s body. Under the capes Karen sat immobile, a mixture of fear, dread and something else – was it curiosity?

Natasha picked a water spray bottle from the trolley on the left of the chair and began to dampen down her pet’s plain brown hair. Satisfied that the hair was now wet enough for her to work with properly Natasha replaced the spray bottle on the trolley. Straightening up again she now took a comb and began to rake it slowly though the hair removing any tangles or snag
s. With her right hand she retrieved one of the pairs of scissors that were neatly arranged on the other trolley. She opened and closed the razor sharp blades several times directly in front of Karen’s startled face.

Natasha leaned towards Karen and started to cut a straight line level with the bottom of her right ear. Karen let out a brief gasp as strands of wet hair – her hair – started to slide noiselessly down the shiny surface of the pink latex cape. She felt both horror and also almost anticipation as she watched the silver blades slicing through her hair. Natasha worked methodically to create a blunt line all around Karen’s head. She paused to re-comb the hair through to ensure the line was uniform in length all the way around. Karen almost began to relax. An ear-length bob – was that so bad she thought?   

“Head down”.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the barked command from Natasha and then a hand was placed firmly against the back of her head.

“Lower”.

Karen dipped her head reluctantly until she felt it pressed against the pink latex of the cape. She was confused at this point as she couldn’t imagine what could be done further. She heard the scissors start to snip once more into her hair and pressed firmly against her scalp. It felt as if the blades were climbing up from the bottom of ears and then further upwards across the back of her head.

Natasha concentrated as she worked with meticulous care to create the style that she wanted for her new pet. She had thought a simple bob might be enough but had then had a change of heart and decided upon an inverted bob.  Only this was to be a very inverted bob. She had now carved the base line for the inversion with her scissors, a steep 45 degree angle from Karen’s ear lobes to level with the tops of her ears at the back. She re-cut the line several times, pausing to comb down the hair carefully after each cut to ensure the line was clear and severe.

“There’s a good little pet” she whispered into Karen’s ear, “Now comes the exciting part”.

“Please – no more”, Karen begged.

“Am I going to have to punish you or are you going to be well-behaved and sit there quietly?”

Karen thought it wiser to keep silent, worried about what the possible consequences might be if she continued to question Natasha. An unfamiliar buzzing noise then filled the air as her head was once more forced forward. With horror Karen then realized that she was about to be clipped. A single tear escaped from her left eye and began to roll down her cheek. She felt the cold, harsh blades against her scalp and then being pushed without any mercy swiftly up the back of her head. Glancing up at the mirror she watched in shock as lumps of hair started to rain down onto her shoulders and then slid down the cape to collect in her lap.

Natasha continued the strip the hair from the back of her pet’s head using the clippers with no guard attached. The brutal efficiency of hair clippers had always appealed to her and she liked nothing more than to use them to leave her mark on the head of her latest possession. She was careful not to let her clippers encroach on the line she had so carefully cut. With each stroke of the clippers the severity of the style was enhanced as the contrast between hair and bare scalp increased in size across the back of Karen’s head.

Tears now ran freely down Karen’s cheeks as the pile of hair collecting in her lap grew in size. She could only imagine the damage that was being inflicted on her hair. How would she be able to go into the bank now as everyone would be looking at her?

Natasha finally switched off the clippers and ran her fingers over the newly bared skin, then switched to raking her scarlet nails over the naked scalp. Shivers ran down Karen’s spine as she felt the nails scraping across her skin.

“Nearly but not quite”, Natasha murmured.

Karen, thinking this torture was finally over, raised her head.

“Not quite finished my pet”, and pushed her head down again.

A higher pitched buzzing filled the air and once more Karen felt something hard and metallic being pushed against her scalp. There was something hugely appealing about an old fashioned razor during a haircut but the electric razor also held an attraction for Natasha. She worked the razor against the direction of hair growth to ensure the closest possible shave. Over and over she ran the electric razor over the skin to ensure not even the slightest trace of stubble remained. The razor was silenced and then a rough towel was rubbed briskly across the freshly shaved skin. Karen remained with her bowed unsure what she was supposed to do now.

“Head up” Natasha instructed.

Karen raised her head and looked into the mirror. Face on she looked almost no different – just a plain bob cut to the bottom of her ears. Natasha appeared behind holding a hand mirror in her hands and showed her the back of her head. Karen gasped. More than three quarters of the back of her head was now shaved bald. The stark sloping line was exaggerated by the absence of hair. She raised her hand and tried to smooth down the hair the hair that was left to try and hide the bare scalp but to no avail. She slumped down further into the barber’s chair – defeated. Natasha leaned forward and gently kissed the bare skin.

“You’re mine now”.

To be continued………………..

One thought on “Karen’s Journey (Part 1)

  1. I need to to thank you for this very good read!! I certainly
    loved every bit of it. I have got you saved as a favorite to check
    out new things you post…

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