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"I must be mad".

"What do you mean?"

"You know, sitting here like this, getting a tattoo".

"You're telling the wrong person, but I can stop if you want"

"No, that's not what I meant.  I just never thought that I would do something like this.  Get a tattoo there. "

"Ooh, there's plenty more intimate places to get one done than on your buttock.  What do you think those are for?" she said motioning over to a trolley. "

I followed where she was pointing to and saw several pairs of electric clippers lying amongst other clutter.

"I don't. . . . " I started to say, and then it dawned on me.

"You know I only work on women, don't you, so that puts your little bum tattoo in perspective doesn't it" she said.

That was precisely the reason that I had come to Joanna.  I had decided that I would get a tattoo to surprise Stuart when he came back from his business trip, to give him a peek at my wilder side, but the thought of a big, hairy biker type getting anywhere near me in such a vulnerable position turned me right off.  I had put the idea to the back of my mind and then a friend at the gym told me about Joanna.

So here I was, half-naked, bent forward over a stool while having picture of a cute puppy etched into the skin on my buttock.  I'm sure that he would have preferred something a little more raunchy, like the word 'Enter', but there are limits! If I was going to do it, I wanted a woman to do it, preferably reasonably young and attractive, who appreciated things of beauty.  So when I met Joanna she was everything that I could have hoped for.  Relaxed, down-to-earth.  Perhaps not as slim as she would have been a few years ago, but pretty good for someone of about thirty.  Attractive, well-proportioned, but with very short hair.  It took me a while, but then I decided that she must cut it so short to stop it trailing across her work.  And here she was telling me that a tattoo on the buttock was mild compared with some places.

"We can do one there next if you like" she smiled "that really would turn him on".

"Is there no end to your talents?" I said, somewhat feebly, in a vain attempt to move the conversation along.

"I like to do what I can, a little tattooing, some ordinary haircutting, a little intimate barbering.  I just like to be creative, open people up to things that they may not have considered before".

I know that if this was on TV, the conversation would have flowed easily, but I couldn't think of anything else to say following that revelation.

"Don't say I've shocked you" she said, dabbing at her handiwork with a swab of some kind.

"No, not shocked, just surprised, that's all.  I thought that I strayed into the Twilight Zone for a moment".

"Beauty salons do bikini waxing, they just make it sound a little less obvious so that they can charge you the Earth for a treatment.  For the most part all I do is use those clippers to clear my work space if you know what I mean, but I get people who want little shapes cut, hearts, that sort of thing, just for a thrill. "

"I didn't mean. . . . . . " I started to say.

"New clients get to try the haircutting service free" she said.

"No, I. . . . . . . . " I said, sounding like a flustered little girl.

"It will have grown back by the time he gets home.  Try it for yourself, not for him" she said. "Besides, you'd really suit short hair".

As she said this, she reached for a mirror to show me the finished design.  It looked a little red, but she had already warned me about that.

"Thank you" I said.

"For which bit?" she asked.

"The tattoo, the offer, the complement, I don't know" I said.

"Come over here and let's have a coffee for a minute" she said.

"No, really, I must be going, but thanks anyway. "

I put my skirt back on and walked over to reception to pay her.  As she handed me my change, she handed me a business card.

"Think about it" she said and smiled.

********************************

A couple of days later I was swapping stuff from one purse to another and I came across her card.  I held it between my thumb and forefinger and read it.  "Radical designs - haircare, everywhere" it read.  I dropped it into the bin and went out.  Later that night I was drying myself after a shower and was pleased that there was no longer any discomfort around my tattoo.  I spent an age admiring it in the mirror and knew that I would struggle not to tell Stuart about his surprise before he came home.

I finished drying myself and stood facing the mirror.  I still looked pretty good and reasonably firm.  I ran a hand over my breasts, lingering slowly near my left nipple.  I was constantly grateful that I had never resorted to enhancement surgery.  They might not be the biggest in the world, but they had served me well.  Stuart said that he could spend hours playing with them, but only if I was on all fours at the time! Typical.  "Let's see how much of a distraction my new artwork will be for him" I thought.

My hand slipped downwards over my stomach and carried on through my thick, downy bush.  An image flashed before my eyes.  Those words. "Haircare, everywhere".

"But what's the point of paying someone else to do it when you can do it yourself" I thought.  "Hang on, she said it was free.  And anyway, do what?" I blinked myself back to the present moment and slipped on my robe.  I went downstairs to get a nightcap and then switched off the light at the foot of the stairs.  I flicked it on again and put my drink down.  I went upstairs with the freshly retrieved card in my hand.  I slept fitfully and was up and about more than an hour earlier than usual.

***********************************

"Hello, Joanna? This is Steph - you remember, the puppy?" I said.  I had done it.  I was sitting here with a cup of coffee, having watched the clock for what seemed like an age until I thought that somebody would be in the studio.

"Hi Steph - you're not having any problem with the tattoo are you?"

"God, no - it's beautiful.  No swelling, nothing.  It's just, well, I was hoping to catch you before your first appointment. "

"You're fine what can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if we could talk about the other side of your business. "

"Hair?"

"Yes, hair, I'm sorry, I'm not with it" I lied.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked.

"I just want to know more about it, that's all. "

"And. . . . . . . . ?"

"And I was thinking about your offer. "

"Well, I can tell you about the offer easily enough.  I cut your hair as I want, I might colour it too.  But you need to be aware that I don't do trims, I don't do an inch off the ends.  I like to think that the word 'Radical' is enough of a warning to the faint hearted. "

"But you will discuss what you're going to do first won't you?"

"I like it to be a surprise for people.  If somebody wants a consultation then they can go to the chain salons and ask for what they want.  I tend to go for whatever I feel like.  Things that I know that a client would never ask for in a million years but that they might just find a bit of a turn on.  You've seen my tools in the shop.  I use clippers and I use razors. . . . "

I was silent again, trying to take all this in.

"I've frightened you off, haven't I?" she said, interrupting my reverie.

"I was just trying to work out which hair you were talking about, that's all.  You know, all this talk about clippers and razors. "

"Put it this way, if you come to me, it won't be just your boyfriend who will notice a difference" she said.

I heard another phone ring in the background.

"Steph, I'm sorry, I need to get that. . . "

"No, Joanna, please.  What time?" I said, amazing myself.

"I'm free until 11.  Gotta go. " she said hurriedly, and was gone.

I sat, nursing my tepid coffee, wishing that I could remember more of what she had said.  The bits that I could remember scared me.  I was scared as to what I would look like, scared of what people would say. But not scared enough to stop me from standing up and reaching for my purse.  I would have more time to think on the drive over, I tried to tell myself.  It's amazing though how quickly a ten minute journey can go. The car was parked and I was staring into space.  I flicked down the sun visor and looked at myself in the vanity mirror.  I turned my head so that I could see more of my face framed by my shoulder length brown hair.  I turned it this way and that. I was walking.  Thinking. "Radical. Clippers. Razor. Intimate barbering. "

*******************************************

"Hiya, I'm sorry I had to go so quick.  I didn't mean to be rude"

"No, I'm sorry for dithering" I replied.

"Well, you got here quickly enough, anyway" she smiled.  "Come on, we're upstairs" she beckoned.

I followed her up the spiral staircase and was amazed to find a fully kitted out hairdressing salon.  Four stations, modern, just no people.

"Right, come and sit yourself down here for me" she said, her hands on the back of a styling chair.

As I sat, she reached across to a hook and picked up a gown.  With an expert swish she wrapped my in it, tucking it in at the neck.

"I didn't think that you would come" she said as she placed a heavy rubber collar around my neck. She saw my puzzled expression in the mirror and reassured me "It stops the smaller hairs getting down your back".

I smiled, still not having responded to her earlier remark.

"Now, you're sure that you want to do this?" she asked.

"Like you said on the phone, I might like it"

"But you might not" she countered.

"He's not home for six weeks and I have got some vacation owing, so it'll have time to grow" I replied.

In response, the air was filled with a low buzzing sound.  I felt her hand on my head, pushing it forward and down.

"Oh shit"

"That's one way of looking at it" she said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud" I apologized.

"Don't worry - I'm sure you'll be saying worse in a minute"

"Why?"

"Because I don't think that you and 'Radical' have ever said hello, that's why.  And I think that it’s a shame.  You've got a lovely face and a fabulous neck, you just hide them.  All I'm going to do is show the world what it has been missing. "

I could feel the clippers move up my neck and then go back down for another go.  I said nothing.  Not so much frightened anymore, just intrigued.  Joanna wasn't some butcher.  She made things of beauty, so I just kept telling myself that she wouldn't do anything to turn me into something hideous.  I kept telling myself and she kept gliding the clippers up my neck.  So far I hadn't been able to see what she had done, but now she was coming around to the front.  She placed them at my left sideburn and then stopped.  She moved the clippers higher and placed them at my forehead.  She guided them backwards as I watched a ribbon of hair move aside in their wake.

"Lucky that's not me" I thought.

I was actually fascinated, the more I watched her work.  Hair fell and then more hair fell, and soon my hair was no more than half an inch long.  Anywhere.  All over.

"What do you think so far?" she asked.

"Radical" was all that I could come up with, that and a lame smile.

It will look better when I'm done" she said as she removed the collar.

She was fiddling about at a trolley to one side, clattering about with tubes and bottles and bowls.  That smell.  "Colour" I thought.

True enough, she was standing behind me painting my head with some evil smelling concoction.

"Dare I ask?" I ventured.

"Surprise" she smiled as she whisked off the cape.

"Now, while we wait for that, let's get on with other things.  Stand up. " she said. "Skirt off" she motioned.

"Isn't this enough for one day" I said meekly, pointing to my head.

"Nonsense, you'll love it" she countered.

I dropped my skirt to the floor and stood.

"This is no time to be bashful" she said, dipping her chin to indicate that I should take my panties off.

I hesitated and then complied.  She motioned me over to a chair on the other side of the salon and showed me how to sit in a slouched position, giving her access to the vital area while not getting my hair colour on the back of the chair.  She had the clippers in her hand again and flicked the switch with a practiced movement.  She knelt at my feet and with her left hand parted my legs to give her better access.  The clippers changed tone as they met resistance.  There was no attachment on the clippers and they left behind bare skin.  She worked carefully, her breath warm on my skin.  More and more of my luxurious bush fell away.  It struck me as strange that an old boyfriend had asked me to shave my pussy, but that I had thought him a bit weird.  I refused him, but here I was with a woman I barely knew toiling away exposing bits that not even my gynecologist had seen.  Joanna brushed away a pile of hair and then blew gently to remove others.  As she stood up I sneaked a look and could just see masses of white skin with just a hint of stubble covering most of my mound and in the middle was a strip of hair about an inch wide.  She was back.  With a little bowl of water and a razor.  She lathered me up and with the gentlest of motions stroked away what remained of the hair at the sides and then she was away, delving at my most private places with the razor.

She moved her attention further up and leaned back slightly to examine her handiwork.

"Too wide" she said and reached for the clippers again.

She buzzed away at each side and then with the control of an expert, she cut down the remaining hair freehand.  It was razor time again and when she had finished I was left with the faintest strip of hair, half an inch wide, that started just above my cleft.  She stood up and smiled.  I couldn't help but have a feel of the skin at the side.  Porcelain.  Perfectly smooth.  Fabulous.

"Right, better get that stuff off you" she said in a very business-like fashion considering how well she knew me now!

She motioned me over to a basin and washed my hair.  She massaged my scalp more firmly, more sensuously than a lover ever could and then it was over.  She eased me up and gestured me over to a different styling station.  No mirror. She saw my look again.  "Surprise!. " I nodded.

The air was filled with the sound of clippers again.  I thought that my hair was as short as it would go, but I was wrong.  She worked carefully at the sides and back of my head before going over the top again.  Then the final surprise.  She was at me again with the razor, stroking the sides of my head almost imperceptibly.

"There's a long mirror behind you if you want a look" she said.

I had been so enthralled that I hadn't actually remembered to put my panties back on after she had finished down there.

"Don't worry about it, you can check the whole package" she said.

I stood up, nervous, excited.  As I got closer to the mirror, a blonde woman approached me.  Very short, white blonde hair, two or three millimeters long at most.  She turned her head a little as we got closer to show me that there was in fact no hair on the sides of her head.  Nothing.  She was blonde on top, but a strip around her temples was quite bald.  She was naked from the waist down, pubic mound naked to the world.  The merest shadow of hair above the cleft. "What a prominent mound this woman has" I thought.

"So, are you going to sue me?" came this voice from behind me.

"Is that really me?" I asked.

"Oh yes, all you, all new" she replied.

My right hand went to my head.  The backs of my fingers stroked the skin at my temples.  I touched my groin to compare the sensation.  The same smoothness.  A sudden rush of warmth at my very centre.  I turned round, suddenly embarrassed.

"Is this a private party or can anyone join in?" Joanna asked as she walked towards me.

"I'm sorry, this party is for people with short hair only" I replied.

She reached out and brushed the side of my head.  I stared into her eyes.  I didn't see her other hand move, but I certainly felt the electricity surge through me as the backs of her fingers made contact.  No sooner had she touched me than she was on her knees, her tongue pressed into the cleft that she had so skillfully revealed to the world.  I adjusted my stance slightly to part my legs.  She lapped at my dampness.  So many thoughts spinning through my head and not one of them about Stuart.  I shuddered.  The insistent lapping stopped, but the stroking of the backs of my thighs kept up my level of arousal.

"I bet you didn't think you were this radical, did you?" she smiled, the merest trace of my juice still on her lips.

Downstairs, I heard the door open.

"Hello" came the voice.

We both jumped.  Joanna's next appointment.  I scurried for my clothes as she checked herself in the mirror, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.  She ran down the stairs to greet her next customer and within a couple of minutes she was back.

"Can I call you later?" she asked.

I was silent for a second.  Trying to analyze what had just happened.  A little over an hour ago I had shoulder length brown, unexciting hair, a full bush and a boyfriend.  Now here I was, shaved, bleached, ravished by a woman. I could see the look of disappointment at my delay.

"I don't want to see you again, Joanna. " I said coldly.  I smiled. "Not unless you have less hair than me.  That means eyebrows too".

I wrote my number on the back of one of the cards lying in the salon.

"I will, if you will. " she said, the tip of her tongue lingering just a fraction too long on her lower lip.

I bent forward to kiss her on the cheek.  "I'll be at home". I said and headed for the stairs.

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