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I was so pleased when I saw the shop-fitters working on an empty shop in town, seeing them laying out what was clearly going to be a hairdressing salon. I had been to all the local salons and had never managed to find anywhere that satisfied all of my needs when it came to my special interest. In some salons the stylist was attractive enough, but workman-like, whilst in others the approach was more of a tease, but the physical side just wasn't there. I know that this is very shallow of me, but that's the way it is, I'm afraid. Now seeing that a new salon was about to open there was new hope, there was somewhere else to explore.

It seemed to take weeks for the place to be finished and to open for business. I waited for the initial wave of interest to die down and then made myself an appointment. I had tried to check out the stylists, but the reflections off the glass made this all but impossible. I would have to be patient.

When I turned up I was introduced to my stylist, Lisa. She was attractive in an early-thirties, midriff-displaying sort of way. If only someone would tell her that those extra few pounds would be best not displayed to the world in such a way. I was grateful for the tight top and hipster trousers, allowing a tantalising glimpse of a strategically placed tatoo on her rump, but most of all, I was grateful for her hair. In all the time that I had been pursuing my interest, I had never had my hair cut by a stylist whose own hair was that colour. It was strawberry blonde from some angles, slightly more ginger from others, depending on how the light caught it. It was scraped back off her face and caught at the back in a small, tight knot. Not long hair by any means, but certainly longer than I liked.

She could sense that I wasn't the type for inane chatter and weighted her comments carefully. I began to like her more and more. I was shrouded in a gown and then I was ready to see if she could pass my first test - the 'adventurer'.

"So Greg, what are we doing today?" she asked, in time-honoured fashion.

I exhaled laboriously. "I don't know...a four and a three or a three and a two" I said, waiting to see if she picked up on the invitation.

"Which would you prefer?" she asked. She had failed the test.

"Surprise me" I said. She shrugged her shoulders and turned to the side to fiddle with an array of guards in the top tray of a trolley. I took the opportunity to examine her reflection in the mirror and was pleased with what I saw. She turned back to me, fitting a guard to the clippers.

"Ready?" she asked. I nodded. She started cutting the hair just behind my ear, moving the clippers up gently, but quite quickly. She moved to my temple, cutting in silence. I struggled to work out which guard she was using.

"So what did you decide?" I asked. She smiled at me and held up two fingers on her left hand. Pehaps this girl wouldn't fail in the end, I thought.

As she cut, I brought the conversation round to my occasional thoughts of going shorter. She listened carefully and without prompting, she told me that she used to have quite long hair, but that during the summer she had given in to an urge to cut it short. When I asked her how short she held up a thumb and forefinger, about three inches or so apart. Whilst I was disappointed with the length, I was pleased that this appeared to be a girl with potential. As we chatted, she changed the guard to a number three and went over the hair on the crown of my head.

She turned the clippers off and ran a hand over my scalp. "How's that, short enough for you?" she asked.

I looked in the mirror, feigning a bemused expression. I had had my hair shorter than this, but I didn't want her to know that.

"I can take it shorter if you like" she offered.

"I'm not sure" I dithered "What if I don't like it?"

"I can do a test patch if you want" she said. I was puzzled as to how she would do this, but after a quick switch of the guards on the clippers she had turned them on again and was holding them just above my temple. Without further ceremony she had run them an inch or so backwards.

"That's what a number two would be like on top" she said.

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

"No-one will ever notice" she countered.

"Go on then, if you must" I said to her.

And so I left the salon with a number two all over, for the very first time as far as she was aware. She was definitely worth a second visit, I thought as I walked down the street to my car.

Just over a month later I made a second appointment with her. She smiled a greeting to me as I entered the salon. I was trying to make my usual rapid assessment without being too obvious. She had a rather smart jacket on this time, but underneath there was still the exposed midriff, displaying a small belly-button piercing that I hadn't noticed last time. I wondered if it was new.

She sat me down and put the gown on me.

"So" she said, lightly grasping the hair at my temples "we went quite short last time, didn't we?"

"I did" I replied "I don't remember you getting your hair cut though" I replied cheekily. It was worth a shot, I thought.

"I'm still trying to make up my mind" she said.

I felt a stirring in my groin. Her hair was tied up again, similar to the way she had it last time.

"It looks to me like you're trying to work out whether it suits you shorter" I said.

"I just can't be bothered with it sometimes, that's why I have it like this."

"Surely you could get one of the girls to put you out of your misery" I said, amazed at the way the conversation was going.

She realised that she hadn't actually made any progress towards cutting my hair and changed the subject.

"It was quite short last time, though, wasn't it?" she said. I nodded. "Do you want to stick with that?"

"It's up to you" I said.

She picked a guard and started cutting behind my ear.

"What will it take?" I asked. She looked puzzled. "To cut your hair" I clarified.

"I don't know, lots of alcohol, I suppose" she replied.

"You don't want to do that, you want to enjoy it" I said.

"Is that what you do?" she asked nonchalantly. We were getting a little too close to the truth for my liking. I considered my response carefully.

"Very much" I said. May as well get hung for a sheep as a lamb, I thought.

"And the shorter you go, the more you enjoy it, is that it?" she asked.

"You're a real Miss Marple, aren't you?" I said, trying not to blush.

She took the clippers away from my head and removed the guard.

"Would you enjoy this?" she asked.

I had had my hair cut to a number one before, but had never dared to go shorter. I suppose I was afraid of the reaction of other people more than anything.

"Would you?" I batted back.

"I don't know, I'd have to think about it" she replied.

"So does that mean you would...?"

"On you?"

"No, on yourself" I said.

"You can never say never" she said tantalisingly.

"Now's the time " I said. I think that she must have misunderstood what I meant as she took that as her cue to re-commence her work. I could see my eyes widen noticeably in the mirror. It wasn't an inconspicuous bit at the back, the clippers were advancing through the hair at my forehead. She leaned forward slightly.

"How does that feel?" she asked.

"It's hard to explain" I said, fighting back the urge to whimper. She winked at me. I couldn't remember the last time that a woman had done that. I had a thousand thougthts going through my head. In the meantime, she continued relentlessly. I carried on staring in the mirror. Was this what I had wanted for so long?

"You know that you're going to have to do it now" I said. There, it was out.

"You think so?" she said, pausing to look me in the eye. She carried on working. By the time she had finished, I was bald. Shaving foam and razor bald. Nobody had ever come close to what this woman had done, nobody had connected with me like this.

"I can't believe I let you do that" I exclaimed.

"I didn't give you much choice" she said, smiling.

I got out of the chair and reached for my wallet. She took the proffered money and went to the till. I stood and looked at myself in the mirror while I waited for her to come back with the change. She came back holding out the money.

"Judy had a free slot at four" she said. I looked at her blankly.

"It's not free now" she said.

"You're going to...?"

"We'll see" she said. "If you pop back later, you'll find out, won't you."

I needed to get out of there before I embarrassed myself. I said my goodbyes and left.

I thought long and hard during lunch and into the afternoon, trying to decide whether I should go back. In the end I decided that she was just teasing me, just playing with someone she thought lived in a fantasy world. I sat and drank tea, forcing myself not to go. She had worked out my most secret desire and I couldn't face the thought of turning up at the salon only for her to laugh at me. I went and looked at myself in the mirror and ran my hand over my smooth head.

The following day I went back into town, amusing myself by looking into the various salons as I passed. There was little chance of seeing anything as dramatic as what I had done the previous day. I was right: a few trims in progress; a few stylists looking forlornly out of the window, eager for custom. I got to the new salon and peered in. I couldn't make out anything in detail.

I reached in my pocket for my mobile phone and dialled the salon's number. I waited while the receptionist went to fetch Lisa.

"Hello?"

"Hi Lisa, is's Greg from yesterday. I just wanted to apologise for not coming back."

"Don't worry about it, I suspect you were trying to get used to the new you" she said, sounding more understanding than I expected. I didn't really know what to say, didn't really know why I had rung her. The pause was getting embarrassing.

"Where are you?" she asked "I can hear traffic."

"I'm outside" I said, knowing that I didn't have the time to make up a plausible lie.

"So why am I talking to you on the phone? she asked.

"I don't know" I replied, just as I realised that the phone had gone dead. I looked towards the salon and saw the door open. Lisa looked one way and then the other before seeing me. She walked towards me and patted my head.

"Well...?" she asked.

"You actually did it" was all that I could manage. I was entranced.

"Seeing your reaction yesterday convinced me" she said.

"You look wonderful" I said, my stomach turning as I listened to myself.

She screwed up her face. "Are you saying that I didn't before?"

"Nnno" I stuttered "that's not what I meant...I meant.."

"I know what you meant. Now, I've got somebody coming in in a minute, but if you want to get a coffee later...as long as you turn up, that is" she smiled.

"I'll turn up alright, don't worry about that" I replied.

She gave me a little wave as she turned back to the salon. I was left standing there, wondering what my chances were of finding out whether her collar and cuffs matched.

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