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I had often wondered quite why Ray came to the salon so often. He always said that he liked to look neat for work and having his hair cut every three or four weeks was a major part of this. It was only after four years of visits that he actually came clean about the real reason. When he opened up, he really opened up, in a way that was almost embarrassing at first. He told me all about his hair fetish and on a subsequent visit he even gave me the urls of a few of his favourite websites. These were real eye-openers to me, even though I had been in the trade for almost 20 years. The only thing in his favour as far as I was concerned was that there was no pornography. It was the pure act of haircutting that was the attraction.

To me, the women on the sites looked weird without hair. A few stood out as being as attractive without as with hair, but these were few and far between. Ray told me that this was obviously an acquired taste and to the afficionado, there were very few of the women whose appearance hadn't been improved by either a crewcut or a complete headshave. We agreed to disagree.

I didn't really see any point in persevering with research in this field. I now knew that it existed and I knew that men like Ray existed, but all it did was to make me question the motives of other men who came to the salon rather than going to the barber's along the street. Ray only came to see me a couple more times after this; he said that he was moving with his job. Perhaps that was why he felt able to share his secret with me after so long.

A few weeks later, I was bored one evening and had been doing some research into holiday destinations on the net. Just as I was about to power down the PC and go to bed, I had a sudden urge to look again at one of the websites Ray had mentioned. The address was easy to remember and then there I was. Sitting there looking at a fresh model since the last time. I had to admit that this particualr woman did look better with a shaved head. Her previous style did nothing for her at all and cutting it off and starting over was probably the kindest thing to do.

The images from the site were still fresh in my mind when I went to work the next day, not just of that particular woman, but of some of the others who had opted to go short, but not to shave completely. I had wondered while on the site what would actually make someone do something like that. I had stroked my own hair and thought that I was quite happy with the way it was and that it would take a lot of money and a long holiday for me to do anything that drastic. Obviously some women were more adventurous than me, and judging from the number of pictures I had seen, they weren't as rare as I would have thought.

The receptionist came through to the salon with one of my regulars, a lady who had been a teacher, but who had retired in her early fifties following a rather generous inheritance. She wore her hair short, perhaps four inches or so all over and just came in for a trim from time to time. She hadn't been coming to me for as long as Ray, but she couldn't have been far off. The receptionist gowned her for me and sat her down at my station as I swept up from the previous client. We said our 'hallos' while I finished up and then, broom put away, I was ready. I put my hands on her shoulders and looked at her in the mirror.

"So, Judy, what do you think about going shorter?" I asked. I really don't know where this came from, it wasn't something that I had planned, it just seemed like the right thing to say at te time.

"I hadn't thought about it" she said. I had clearly caught her by surprise as well.

"It's just that we always do the same thing every time you come in, I thought you might fancy something a bit different" I said in an attempt to justify my earlier remark.

"I suppose you're right" she said.

"So are we going to live a bit dangerously then?" I said. The poor woman must have thought that I was on something, certainly that was the impression I got from the way she looked at me in the mirror. I ran my fingers through her hair for something to do while I waited for an answer.

"It's not as if I have to go to work tomorrow is it?" she remarked.

"There is that" I said, not sure whether she was going to go shorter or I was about to lose a client. "I was thinking we could take it really close round here" I said, picking at the sides with the thumb and forefinger of each hand "and leave the top slightly longer."

She looked at herself in the mirror thoughtfully, turning her head from side to side. She nodded. "If you think it would suit me..." she said.

"I think it will bring out a new you" I replied, wondering what I was actually going to do the poor woman.

She saw me pick up the clippers off the shelf and looked at me nervously.

"Trust me..." I said, with a distinct lack of conviction. I turned the clippers on and checked the guard. It was a number four. Judy sensed my hesitation and looked as if she was about to speak. The urge left her as I placed the clippers at her forehead and ploughed the first furrow along the top of her scalp. I had actually intended to do just the back and the sides with them and cut the top down with scissors, but her nervousness caused me to panic.

"I didn't know you were thinking that short" she said, as I was about halfway through the third pass.

"It's not as short as you think, honestly" I said. "The sides will be shorter, for a bit of contrast, but you'll look great. I think it will take years off you," I said.

"I hope you're right" she replied with a weak smile.

I tried to work as methodically as I could, as I moved around her head. After a couple of minutes, her hair had been reduced to a number four all over. She reached up to touch it.

"That's what I call short" she commented.

"But don't you think it suits you shorter?" I asked, desperate for her to buy into what I had just done. She looked at herself in profile again.

"You could be right" she conceded.

"So, ready for the next stage?" I asked. She nodded.

"Are you going to be brave for me?" I asked. She nodded again. I swapped the guard on the clippers for the number two and ran the clippers up the nape of her neck.

"If I didn't know the havoc that that machine was wreaking back there, I would have to say that the sensation is not unpleasant" she said.

"Have a feel of that and see what you think" I said, turning the clippers off. She reached up to the back of her head and felt first the section that I had just cut and then the adjoining section that was still at number four length. Her hand went back to the two and then back to the four.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"I think I'm going to have to kill you" she said.

"Well, hang on a couple of minutes" I said, attempting my most client-friendly smile. I flicked the clippers back on.

"How about we do the top like that?" I asked.

"And if we do that for the top, you're going to want to do the sides shorter again, I suppose?" she said. I nodded.

"To tell you the truth, you've come this far, I definitely think you should just let me take it all off for you. I..."

"You mean shave it?" she interrupted.

"See how great you look with it this short, it's a thousand times better than when you came in. Shorter is definitely better on you," I replied.

"I couldn't..." she said.

"Why not?" I asked. The clippers were still going. I slipped the guard off them and placed them at her right temple.

"How about if we do around the edges to see what you think?"

"And what if I don't like it?" she asked.

"It'll grow again" I replied, stating the obvious.

"And what do I do in the meantime?"

"I'll buy you a hat" I said.

"That's very good of you" she said.

"Isn't it!" I replied a little too sarcastically.

I moved the clippers upwards a fraction. The tuft of hair in their path fell. She didn't move. I took the clippers higher. This was going to be very noticable now. I angled the clippers and moved them backwards over her ear, revealing ever more skin. She took a deep breath. I took the clippers away from the side of her head and placed them at her forehead. The hair here was still a number four and quite respectable.

"Are we?" I asked.

"What the hell, you only live once" she said.

That was all the prompting I needed. I had done this on many men during my career, but this was different. I had pursuaded this woman with perfectly decent hair to shave her head. She had had no intention of ever doing anything like this and here I was shaving her hair off. Shaving it because I wanted to. She was watching me now. Watching me reveal the skin of her scalp. I caught her eye in the mirror, hoping that I didn't look guilty.

"Have you ever done this yourself?" she asked. I shook my head.

"So what made you...?"

"It was something another client said" I replied. "About how extremely short hair or no hair is a very strong look for a woman."

"And are you going to take him up on his suggestion?" she asked.

"I'm going to do it just before I go on holiday" I said. It was a lie. I hadn't thought about doing it. I couldn't. Could I?

I had finished with the clippers. Her scalp was bare. She reached up and touched her scalp tentatively at first and then a little more firmly.

"It feels funny" she said.

"I know it does when it's like that. I'll shave it with a razor for you, to clean it up" I said. She sat in silence as I covered her head with foam and then gradually stroked it away with the razor. Her face was a study in concentration as she watched. I was relieved that it did genuinely look better than when she had come in. I was amazed. Judy's demeanour had softened a little as I think she came to the same conclusion. By the time I was making the final strokes with the razor, she was actually smiling.

I rubbed her head gently with a towel to remove the final traces of foam and then took the towel away with a flourish. I bent my head towards her in an inquisitive gesture.

"I could have killed you when you started, but I really do think you were right" she said.

"Does that mean that I can still regard you as a client?"

"I should think so" she said "but remember, I want to see you before you go away".

I looked at her inquistively and then grasped what she was saying. She was trapping me the way I had trapped her.

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