HaircuttingStories.com

"She's really not ... not right for our organization." declared Selma Bernstein, "I mean ... the way she dresses ... hell, the way she looks ... it's just the wrong message." Judge Selma Bernstein was addressing the executive board of the Women's Political Action Committee; the topic was the group's comptroller, Jessica Randolph. "I mean, how are we supposed to talk about feminism in action when we've got this preening bimbo holding a key post in our own organization?".

"Bimbo" might have been a little strong in describing Jessica, then again ... She was a tall slim beauty, six feet tall with an athletic coltish figure. For wardrobe, she favored cleavage flattering suits and "fuck me" pumps. Her model's face was framed by gorgeous jet black hair, in fact, she'd done some modeling (and more) to support herself before she turned to a more lucrative profession - marrying rich old men! Only 32, she was already on her third marriage. Her modus operandi was simple, move in high society circles, dazzle some old geezer into divorcing his hag of a wife and marrying her, rake in the money and then divorce him and move on to the next! She was sufficiently wealthy now to "buy" her way into exclusive private clubs and committees. Her presence was hardly welcome, many of her new associates were long time friends of the "hags" who's husband's she had stolen, but she was at least tolerated - and once she was in, it was virtually impossible to get her out - absent something downright criminal!

"Uh, Selma ..." interrupted Ruth Marx, "I'd like a word with you. I've been going over the accounting records and ...".

Bingo, for all her new found wealth, Jessica was still a two bit thief at heart. Embezzlement ... hundreds ... thousands ... from a non profit organization! "She could get ten years for this!" chuckled Selma, "But I've got a better idea!" Judge Bernstein reached for her phone, "Hello, Jessica Randolph ... yes, this is Judge Selma Bernstein, we met through the Women's Political Action Committee? Oh, I'm flattered you remember! I was wondering, could you stop by my chambers this afternoon? Well, I'm not at liberty to discuss it over the phone! Two o'clock? Fine ... I'll be looking forward to it!"

Over the course of a two hour meeting later that day, members of the executive board displayed for Jessica the evidence of her amateurish theft. Judge Bernstein solemnly explained the criminal consequences.

"Prison can be particularly difficult for a woman like yourself ...". Then, a branch of hope was extended; the committee had decided to allow her to work off her debt. "Oh ... oh, thank you!" gushed Jessica, "Let me get my checkbook and I'll ...".

"Apparently, you were not listening, Ms. Randolph!" interrupted Judge Bernstein sharply, "You will work to pay off this debt!". "W-W-Work?" stammered Jessica, "B-But I've never really worked a day in my life ...".

That weekend, the Women's Political Action Committee was holding a charity fundraiser at a local amusement park. By cajoling and arm twisting, Rhoda Stern, Marcy Gelb and Naomi Burns were convinced to attend - the three had dropped out of the old social circles after losing their husbands "to that little bitch!" - but Selma and the others had been insistent. As they strolled the midway, Selma directed Rhoda to a particular booth, "Now that looks like it could be a lot of fun, don't you think, Rhoda dear?".

The booth was manned by a female barker. "Step right up, try your luck, only a buck to tickle her fancy!" the barker announced. To Rhoda's shock, fifteen feet from the platform was a solid wall, solid save for a single hinged hole! Through that hole was thrust a head ... a woman's head ... Jessica Randolph's head! Her pretty face was a mess, hair matted, long mascara tears staining her cheeks ... and incredibly, she was laughing, laughing her fool head off!

"BWOOOO HOO HOO HA HA HA ... AHA HA HA HA HA ... LET ME OUT OF HERE ... AHA HA HA HA HA ... YOU ... HEE HEE ... YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS, YOU BITCHES ... HEE HEE HA HA HA ... QUIT LAUGHING AT ME ... HOO HOO HA HA HA ... IT'S NOT FUNNY!!!"

Rhoda smiled broadly and turned to her friend. "It's marvelous! Simply marvelous! But why on earth is she laughing?". Selma just smiled and escorted her friend around down the aisle and around the corner, as they walked up the row, Rhoda grinned knowingly as she saw the booth which lay parallel, again, there was a platform of about knee height (strewn with feathers) and a solid wall, solid save for two hinged holes. Through those holes were thrust a pair of big bare feet ... saucy red nail polish and sparkling toe rings identified them as women's feet ... infact, they were Jessica Randolph's feet! The feet were twitching in vain trying to avoid the feathers wielded by Marcy Gelb and Naomi Burns.

"Oh, that's too funny!" laughed Rhoda, "May I try?".

"Be my guest, Rhoda dear!" chuckled Naomi, pointing to stack of singles, "I've paid for the whole hour; you'll be my assistant tickler! But first we have a more important task for to perform, Rhoda dear!"

Proudly escorted by their freinds and colleagues from the Women's Political Action Committee, Rhoda Stern, Marci Gelb and Naomi Burns was brought face to face with the woman who had stolen their husbands.

"Y-You three ..." stammered a horrified Jessica Randolph, "Oh ... oh dear ... l-l-look, I ... I don't want any trouble, see ..."

"Selma ..." Marci Gelb nodded to Judge Bernstein, " ... clippers!". Grinning slightly in approval, the female judge placed a set of cordless clippers in the vindictive ex-wife's outstretched palm. As a stunned Jessica gaped in disbelief, Marci Gelb plowed the clippers through Jessica's lush dark mane, leaving a trail of dark stubble in its wake.

"N-No ... not that!", Jessica finally found her voice, "Y-Y-You wouldn't ... you can't ... you're not going to (ulp) ... SHAVE MY HEAD?!!". Marci simply hums cheerfully to herself and continues to clipper Jessica's head until the brunette beauty's hair is reduced to short bristles while she endured the hoots and jeers of a crowd of older women.

"Watch out! Hot towel ... coming through!" announced Rhoda Stern cheerily as she made her way through the gorwing corwd with a steaming bucket. From the bucket she produced a towel soaked in near boling water which she proceeded to wrap turnban style around the miserable Jessica's newly shorn head. Steam rose from the ravaged slut's scalp.

"Owwwwwwwwww ...", the once brunette beauty whined, "It's ... it's too hot!".

"It's SUPPOSED to be hot, silly!" teased Rhoda, taking Jessica by the chin, "It's to soften your scalp, you pathetic bimbo! Now then ... let's take this towel off ... and lather up your empty little head!".

With that, Rhoda produced a can of shaving cream. With a soft "whoosh", a large white dollop appeared in the spiteful ex-wife's manicured hand ... which she proceeded to massage and knead into Jessica's stubbly scalp until a thick rich lather formed. "Naomi, my dear ..." chuckled Marci as she turned to address her co-conspirator, "I beleive you ahve first honors?"

"Yes ... thank you, Marci dear!" replied Naomi Burns as she proceeded to strop and old fashioned straight razor across a leather belt, honing it to exquisite sharpness. "Now hold very still, you little slut!", she warned Jessica casually, "Or you'll bleed like the pig you truly are and end up with a head full of scars!".

"Oh how ... how c-c-cruel ...", Jessica whined, "Y-Y-You're d-doing it (whimper) ... you're actually (sob) sh-sh-shaving me!"

"Take it off! Take it ALL off, baby!", hooted Rhoda Stern as Naomi guided the blade across Jessica's scalp with light feathery strokes, delicately scraping away soap and stubble and leaving only gleaming smooth skin in the wake. In minutes, the once glamorous Jessica Randolph was as bald an an onion! Unsatisfied, her vindictive captors then proceeded to coat her bald pate with acrylic polish wax and used a chamois cloth to buff her naked scalp to a lustrous gleaming shine!

By now a substantial throng of curious onlookers had gathered. Judge Slma Bernstein addressed the crowd, describing Jessica as the gold-digging home-wrecker that she was. There was no sympathy for the now bald beauty, quite the contrary, many of the woman nodded their heads in approval or actively applauded the Women's Political Action Committee's actions. In return, the Committee invited women to be photographed with Jessica - or rather, with Jessica's bald head, which was the only part of her visible to the public - recall that Jessica's shining dome protruded form the wall like some absurd big game trophy!

Epilogue: A showered and chastened Jessica Randolph stood before Selma Bernstein and Ruth Marx, in her bathrobe. Self consciously, she tried to cover one bare foot with the other - they were still throbbing! "Uh ... look, I know what I did was wrong and ... that I needed to be uh, taken down a little ... but I've really learned my lesson, thanks to you. You can be sure that nothing like what's gone on will ever happen again. In fact, I'm thinking about moving ... back to my home town in ..." "Aren't you forgetting something ... your debt?" interrupted Selma. "Well ... I-I-I just assumed that ... w-what you did to me tonight ..." "Raised four hundred dollars ... less the cost of the tomatoes!" answered Ruth, sharply, "You still have quite a ways to go to work this off, bimbo!" "Now, Ruth!" chided Selma, "We agreed we weren't going to make this (tee hee) ... personal. Now then, Miss Randolph, we've arranged another job for you - strip tease at a birthday party at a private club tomorrow. You ... have no (ahem) objection, I assume? It pays five hundred dollars."

Five hundred? Well, it would help pay this thing off a lot faster and it couldn't be any worse than the shit she'd gone through today. She'd done some topless dancing before ... and it didn't sound like she had any real choice. Get this thing done and get out of town, she thought.

"Very good, then, Ruth and I will pick you up at eight o'clock tomorrow. Please wear a bikini and high heels, you may cover yourself with a topcoat until we arrive at the party. Here is the club address!" Selma handed Jessica a card.

Jessica looked puzzled; this was a pretty lousy neighborhood. "Wh-What's the name of the club?" she asked timidly.

"Let me see ... oh, I have it right here!" chuckled Ruth, "The Diesel Dykes Motorcycle Club! I believe it's their president's birthday ... young lady named `Spike', if I recall correctly! We'll see you at eight then! Ta Ta!

Rate this story now.
5- Excellent 4- Very good 3- Good 2- Needs work 1- Poor  

Enter some comments about this story or see what others have said on the forums.