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I had been going to my previous hairdresser for about five years and that is probably what the problem was. Donna and I had become good friends and we saw each other socially from time to time as well as on my regular visits to the salon for a trim and to have my roots touched up.

I recently got promoted at work which entailed a relocation and consequently a change of hairdresser. Although I swore to Donna that I would stay in touch and visit so that she could do my hair, the inevitable happened and I just did not find the time to travel to see her. I started to scout around for a new stylist and found a fairly avante-garde looking place down a side street. When I went in to check it out I was impressed by the decor and the way it was laid out in a sort of minimalist way. It was not at all brash and there was a minimum of chrome fittings, I was pleased to see. The reception staff were friendly and I booked myself in for a consultation with one of the stylists the following day just to see how they came across. After checking out four or five salons in town I was pleased to have found one where I at least felt comfortable making an appointment.

The following afternoon I arrived at the salon as soon as I could after work and was greeted by an attractive young woman of about the same age as me, I guessed. She got me a coffee and led me upstairs to the private consultation suite where we could chat without being disturbed by the phone or by other people. It was wonderful after a hectic day at work just to go in there and relax. She had a wonderful way of putting me at my ease and after a few minutes she steered the conversation around to my hair. Who had done it, what I liked, what I had done usually, whether I was adventurous or not.

As I told her about my time with Donna she nodded and smiled. She stood without comment and ran her fingers through my hair to gauge the condition and then sat back down again. I paused for breath, realising how long it had been since I let her speak.

'Well, that's quite a story' she said.

'What do you think then Amy?' I asked.

'I don't want to offend you Diane, but it's always best if I tell the truth rather than just come out with pleasantries. You say that you find root regrowth a pain and an expense, but the only way around that is not to have your hair bleached, it's as simple as that. As far as the bleaching itself goes, it has been done well, but my personal opinion is that hair as long as yours shouldn't be bleached. I always try to talk people out of it unless their hair is super short.'

I sat attentively as she spoke, grateful for her honesty. She stopped speaking which gave me the chance to ask her what she saw as the way forward and most of all what she proposed to do about my roots. I liked being blonde even if I could barely remember being anything else. I had been blonde ever since I left school and did it as a small act of rebellion against my conservative mother.

'There's three things you can do. The first is find yourself another hairdresser if you don't like what I am saying to you. Secondly, we can dye your hair back to its natural colour and leave you that colour.' She paused.

'And the third is..?' I prompted.

'The third is...' she said, pausing for effect '..we take you super short so that the regrowth isn't a problem if you do have it coloured.'

'OK, let me get this straight. You're saying that if I want my hair done here I should either stop being a blonde, or go for the chop.'

'I know it sounds brutal when it's put like that, but I really don't recommend that you carry on bleaching your hair as it is. In a way, that's the result of being with the same hairdresser for so long. You get in a rut, it becomes a ritual. Every so often you go to the salon and have a chat while she works on auto-pilot giving you exactly what she has given you however many times previously. You needed to break out and if you don't mind me saying so, I really would like you as a client.'

I smiled a thank you as I pondered what she had said.

'Anyway, you have a think about what you want to do because I've got someone coming in now. Here's my card, so give me a ring if you feel like it.'

I thanked her for her honesty and left the salon looking exactly as I had when I went in. That was the intention anyway, but as I left I found myself looking up and down the street for another stylist.

I found one within a couple of minutes and went in for a chat again. The receptionist was friendly enough and I booked a trim and colour for the following day.

I came out of the salon with exactly what I had asked for, but was not happy as I walked along the street trying to look at my reflection in shop windows. While the girl worked, I had been thinking about what Amy had said to me and thought how really it applied to my life as a whole at that point. No great difference in my routine despite a change of city, no real love life to speak of, although that had been self-imposed after I broke up with Andy. In short, no excitement.

There was a phone box in the square in front of me. I put my bag on the small shelf and rummaged around for Amy's card before dialing the number. The receptionist said that Amy was fully booked for the day, but was kind enough to go and get her so that I could have a quick chat.

'Amy, you do remember me don't you, from yesterday?' I said, not knowing really what to say.

'Of course I do' she replied.

'I started to explain what I had done, but she said she had only a few seconds as she had to rinse a colour off someone's hair before it spoiled. I accepted her offer to come up to the salon so that we could speak as she changed client. Within minutes I was back in the consultation room, alone except for a cup of coffee. I waited for twenty minutes or so and was just about to go when she walked in.

'I'm sorry, I'm very busy' she said seeing me with my coat on, gathering up my bags. She saw immediately that I had been to another stylist as my roots had gone.

'I see you're not here for professional reasons, so what can I do?' she said a little too businesslike for my liking at that point.

'I'm sorry, Amy, I shouldn't have come but I've been thinking and I wondered if you could fit me in somehow.' I said.

'I can't, I'm sorry. The salon closes soon and there's no one who can take my client.' she said apologetically.

'I don't suppose you do private work do you' I said, half jokingly as I again gathered up my things ready to go.

'It depends whether it's worth my while, but it has been known, yes' she replied, certainly a lot friendlier than when I first came in.

'How much do you charge?' I asked.

'I haven't said that I'm free yet' she smiled.

I looked at her pleadingly. 'Take a seat again and if you're still here when I've finished then I'll see what I can do' she said, turning on her heel to go. She still had not told me how much she charged for private work, but I sat down anyway. That's what credit cards are for, I thought, aware that it had already had a hit that day from one salon.

I sat for over an hour, hearing all the coming and goings of people leaving the salon before she came back in clutching a cup of coffee.

'You're still here then, I see' she said.

I smiled at her. She sat down and stretched her legs.

'I hope you don't mind' she said.

'No, feel free' I replied, grateful that she had agreed to stay. She closed her eyes for a few moments and then exhaled.

'Right, that's it' she said 'batteries recharged. Now then missy, what was it you wanted ?'

I told her that I was prepared to come to her on her terms, at which she smiled.

'OK then, so what if I say that if you want me to cut your hair tonight you have absolutely no say in what I do.'

'Look, Amy, I came back because you were honest with me and didn't mess about and I trust your judgment.'

'I'm telling you that I'm going to cut your hair in a way that you would never dream of asking for on your own.'

'OK, I'm ready' I replied. After all I had had plenty of opportunity to back out while I waited for her.

She led me back into the salon, now deserted with only the secondary lighting on.

'I'm afraid we've got no clean gowns left today' she said 'so are you alright slipping your dress off so we don't get it covered in hair?' she asked.

I was a little taken aback at first. 'Don't worry 'she said reassuringly 'no one will come in and the door is locked.'

'I reached behind me and drew down the zip, slowly lowering my dress to the floor as I mused on the peculiarity of the situation. I sat down, with a sharp intake of breath as bare flesh met the leather upholstery and then squirmed a little to get comfortable. I was just grateful that I had got decent underwear on.

Amy came back into the room and moved behind the chair.

'Good girl, this way I think you'll really enjoy what I'm going to do. You'll be able to feel the hair on your shoulders.'

'I can feel the hair on my shoulders now' I began to say before realising what she meant.

She started to comb my hair, taking great pains with it, stroking it, caressing it even. The motion stopped and she moved over to a shelf next to her before repositioning herself behind me again.

'Now then, Diane, it's not too late to leave you know.' she said.

'I'm alright, what are you going to do that's so terrible anyway?' I asked.

She replied by turning on a pair of electric clippers. I was startled by the sudden mechanical sound and visibly flinched. 'Don't worry, you'll love it. I'm going to show you just how attractive you really are.' she said.

We were both silent as she pressed the clippers to the nape of my neck and held them there for a moment.

'Do you promise, Amy' I said weakly.

'I promise' she said as the clippers started to move up the back of my head. She was right about the sensations that I was experiencing from the severed hair tumbling down my back. At that point I was not too worried, thinking that she was just getting rid of excess hair at the back in preparation for some sort of geometric bob. Her hand touched my shoulder as she pulled me back into the seat and she turned off the clippers. My sense of relief was immense as she put the clippers down.

'I hope you don't mind but I don't see why you should be the only one sitting there all casual' she said.

She undid the buttons at the front of her tunic and opened it before letting it fall.

'All girls together' she said, noticing my double-take at her unfettered breasts.

'I bet you've never had your hair cut by a topless stylist.' she joked. She was right.

She twirled the chair around and as I span she picked up the clippers again, flicking them on with the same deft movement.

'Watch what this does to me' she said as she pressed the clippers to my temple. Again she held them there for a moment before she moved them backwards along the side of my head. I closed my eyes at the thought of what she was doing to me but then a hand placed on my breast made me open them again. My eyes were open wide as she increased the pressure on my breast while moving the clippers slowly backwards.

'I've gone too far to stop now' she said and reassured that I had not screamed or anything, she smiled.

'Take it off for me' she said, pulling at the cup of my bra.

Here I was, half-naked in front of a strange woman who was doing God knows what to my hair and I actually did it. I reached behind me and undid the hook before easing my bra off my shoulders. My nipples were erect. I did not know whether to be embarrassed or not, but then Amy took the clippers away from my head before bending down and taking my left nipple between her teeth. She opened her mouth wide to take as much of my breast in her mouth as possible before drawing away with a smile on her face.

'I knew you would want to try new things' she said.

'Who says they're new' I countered.

'I meant the hair' she lied.

She turned me around to face the mirror.

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

Half of my head was cut down to less than an inch while the other half was untouched.

'I like it' I said, not knowing what to say. She started work again, this time with a lot more speed, eager to get finished.

I looked in the mirror and was not unhappy with my crew cut, although it was a radical change. I however had misinterpreted the silence as a halt rather than just a pause. The clippers buzzed into life again, this time with a different guard on. She moved them deftly across the sides of my head and around the back and then fixed my eye in the mirror before she moved them to the top of my head. She stopped. She bent down and kissed me. Long, lingering, moist. The best kiss that I have ever had. She cupped my breast with her hand again, rolling the nipple between her thumb and forefinger. I sighed.

'I want to shave you' she breathed, our contact breaking for a second.

'Do what you want, just be quick because I can't bear this any more' I pleaded.

'Tell me what you want' she commanded.

I was silent for a second.

'I want you to shave me' I said.

She flicked the guard off the clippers and in the mirror I saw her cut a swathe through the already short hair on top of my head. She worked quickly and then it was quiet again. She walked away for a second only to return with some shaving foam and a straight razor. She applied the lather to my scalp and drew the razor across it with confident strokes. My eyes were closed. I was in another place, a place where you didn't have to explain, didn't have to concern yourself with what anybody else thought. It was peaceful and it was beautiful.

The stroking stopped, to be replaced by the gentle patting and rubbing of a soft towel. My eyes remained closed. Far away I could hear a noise, insistent, angry almost. Footsteps. A voice. I was alone.

I opened my eyes. I looked around. The phone, of course. Amy was the other side of the salon leaning against the counter, her back to me, half-naked, long legs crossed at the ankles as she stood in panties and high-heeled shoes.

My breathing settled back to a normal level. I looked in the mirror. My bald head. Eyebrows looking much thicker than previously. Bare breasts. No hair. What had I done?

I picked up my dress and ran, thankful that I didn't have to go past Amy to get to the stairs and then out of the front door. I stepped into my dress, struggling with the zip as I got out of the salon. What had I been thinking about? Letting her do that to me. I had been caught up in the moment, that's all it was. One second I had hair cut in a dramatic, but explainable way, the next I was half-seduced and completely bald.

As I hurried towards the car, someone took hold of my arm.

'Diane..'

I turned towards the voice. Amy could see the tears in my eyes. I looked away. She let go of my arm.

'Diane, I'm sorry, I thought that you wanted......'

'I did' I replied. 'It was a mistake.........'

I walked on in the darkness. Alone.

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