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It was a month ago when I decided that it was time for my hair to be trimmed. My hair was one length and quite long, reaching halfway down my back. I started growing my hair when I left school and have kept it long ever since (I’m now 26), having only the occasional trim to keep split ends at bay.

I popped into my normal hairdressers but they couldn’t fit me in so being the impatient person I am, I decided to find an alternative salon. I knew that there was a salon on Dove Street so decided to try there.

I entered the salon, was approached by the hairdresser and asked if there was any chance of a dry trim. The hairdresser replied that she was just about to do her next customer’s hair, but if I was willing to take a seat, she could do me in about 10 minutes or so.

I thanked her and took a seat.

I could see that the customer was a young girl, probably about 13 years of age who had longish hair, just past her shoulders. Her mother was beside her and was giving instructions to the hairdresser. It reminded me of when I was a little girl, when I would be placed in the hairdresser’s seat and would sit helplessly as my Mum gave the hairdresser instructions as to how my hair should be cut. It was always too short!

The hairdresser accepted the instructions, combed through the little girl’s hair, picked up her scissors, placed them against her hair (just by her chin) and started cutting. The hairdresser gently snipped away, removing all the long hair from one side, then straight across the back and around the other side. With each snip, a lock of hair about 6 inches in length would fall to the floor and in less than 2 minutes all of the little girl’s long hair had fallen to the floor. She had become a neat and tidy little girl with a nice short haircut.

The little girl didn’t look too happy looking at the reflection of her short haired self, but her Mum looked very pleased and came out with the immortal words “there that’s better, don’t you look neat and tidy, we can see your face now”

It was amazing how this event brought memories flooding back. I could vividly remember exactly the same thing happening to me. It was just before I started a new school and my Mum made me have my long hair cut short, just like the little girl’s. I can remember cringing as the hairdresser cut off my hair, hating my Mum for what she had made me have done and hating the way I looked with short hair. What made it worse was that my hair had been cut too short for a ponytail (I tried to put it into a ponytail but the front strands would keep falling out) so when my Mum wanted my hair tied up, she put it into bunches. I ended up looking like a little girl, just at the time I wanted to look like a grown-up. I absolutely hated it!

The funny thing was that looking at the little girl’s short hair, I had to agree that she did in fact look a lot better with her short hair, it was neat & tidy, far more practical and made her look sweet. I found myself playing with my long hair (which was a little longer than the little girl’s before her hair had been cut short) and began thinking that maybe it would be nice if mine was cut too. After all, in hindsight, I probably hated myself more for not coping with having had my hair cut and for the way that I had behaved than the cut itself. Maybe it was time to have my hair cut again and maybe this time I would cope with it a whole lot better and get rid of the hang-ups I had created for myself by being so silly.

The little girl got out from the seat and walked with her Mum to the counter to pay the hairdresser. My eyes instinctively followed them and I saw a card of bobbles, just like the ones that my Mum used to put my hair into bunches. With this my heart began to race uncontrollably and I found myself thinking that actually bunches were really sweet and were actually very nice. I couldn’t believe what I was thinking, but I felt a strong urge to have my hair put up into bunches again! My imagination went into overdrive, how could I get my hair cut and put into bunches? The answer came very quickly. All I had to do was to say was that I was going to a fancy dress party, I was sure that the hairdresser would understand. I sat and pondered, should I do this? After all, I’d entered the salon only wanting a trim, should I do something on impulse?

The hairdresser came over to me, introduced herself as Maureen and invited me to her station. I was sat down in front of the mirror and I complimented Maureen on the way that she had cut the little girl’s hair. I said that I thought she looked much nicer with her hair short and that it was a shame that the little girl didn’t look too happy, because she did look very nice. Maureen replied, “It’s back to school time and it’s always a battle between Mum and daughter but Mum normally wins and we send daughter home with a nice back-to-school haircut.”

Maureen combed through my hair and said, “Right then young lady, what are we doing for you today?”

With this the devil got hold of me and without thinking of the consequences, I blurted out, “This is going to sound a little strange, but I’m going to a ‘Tarts & Little Girls’ fancy dress part tonight and I don’t want to go as a tart.”

“So you want to go as a little girl?”

“That’s right, and what I want to go the whole hog. I was wondering if it would be possible for you to cut my hair and put it up into bunches for me?”

“Yes, of course I will, that’s no problem, now how much do you want taken off?”

“Well it’s been a while since I’ve had a proper cut and I do want to look good for the party, so take as much off as you feel will make me look authentic and still allow me to have bunches.”

“Okay, well as long as you’re sure, the girl I’ve just done looks more like a little girl now her hair is short and she could still have bunches, so if you want to look authentic maybe we should do the same?”

“Well I did think she looked nice,” I replied, wondering if Maureen would rise to the challenge.

I didn’t have too wait long to find out because Maureen gave me a big smile and said, “Right then, that’s settled. One back-to-school haircut coming up.”

Maureen explained that it would be easier to cut my hair if I was standing so I was placed in front of a long mirror.

Maureen placed a gown over me, combed me through, picked up her scissors, placed them against my hair at about chin length and began cutting. I could feel the scissors crunching as they snipped through my hair and with each schnink I was relieved of a long lock of my hair. Maureen cut quickly and decisively and I could do nothing but watch as my long hair fell lifeless to the floor. I felt just like I did when I was a little girl, but this time I felt really good.

Maureen had got around half way round my head when the phone rang. She left me standing whilst she took the call. I was left looking at myself in the mirror and what a strange reflection I saw. On one side I had the long luscious hair that I had adored, on the other side my hair was short and hanging sweetly, just like the little girl’s. I looked down to the floor and looked at the locks of my long hair lying limp and discarded.

Maureen finished her phone conversation, returned with scissors at the ready. “Right young lady, can’t leave you like this, so let’s get this hair off and get you tidied up.”

Maureen recommenced cutting and in less than a minute the remainder of my long hair had fallen to the floor. The last snip was the best, because with it, my last lock of long hair fell to the floor to reveal a nice short haircut exactly the same as the little girl’s.

Once she had finished Maureen said, “There you are young lady, one back-to-school haircut, what do you think?”

“Well yes I quite like it and I should imagine that the mother of the little girl would approve.”

“Oh I’m sure she would, and you know what she’d be saying don’t you?”

“No?” I replied

In a tongue-in-cheek manner Maureen said to me, “There that’s bett
er, don’t you look neat and tidy for school with your short hair. We can see your face now.”

“Well, yes she could say that now couldn’t she.” We both laughed.

Maureen took me back to her station, sat me down and went to fetch the bobbles.

“What colour would you like?”

“I don’t mind, you choose.”

Maureen detached the pink bobbles, placed them on the shelf and picked up her comb.

She combed my hair into a perfect centre parting and then gathered the right side of my hair and pulled it into a bunch. Maureen pulled my hair really tightly (she was very firm and forceful just like my Mum had been) and then wrapped the bobble as tightly as she could to secure my bunch. Maureen then walked to my other side. I could see my reflection in the mirror, on one side I had loose hair, on the other neatly tied back hair secured in a cute little bunch. I concluded that this is how I must have looked when my Mum used to put me in bunches.

Maureen proceeded with the left side and in no time I was done. I looked in the mirror and there was the reflection of me, not as a normally look as an adult, but how I used to look when I was a little girl. My hair had been pulled away from my face as tight as tight could be and tightly pulled away from my hairline, fully exposing my ears. I had been given the cutest “little girl” bunches that were placed quite high up on my head and secured by pretty pink bobbles, just like a little girl’s!

Maureen picked up a mirror and showed me the back. I could see that again my hair had been pulled as tight as tight could be, completely exposing my neck and hairline with the most precise parting which clearly exposed my scalp. My bunches looked even more extreme, they were just like a cute little girl’s, nice and high on my head and secured with very girlie pink bobbles. From the back I looked just like a little girl.

Maureen gave me a big smile, I smiled back broadly. Again I could see my reflection and my smile no longer looked as it normally did, my smile looked cute and coy. I wondered if I was adopting the persona of a little girl or whether it was down to my changed appearance. It didn’t matter, I was very happy.

“So what do you think, will I pass for the party?”

“Oh I should think so, you’ll make a terrible tart now you’ve lost your long hair, but with your new short haircut you’ll make a wonderful little girl.”

“Thank you,” I replied

“The only thing that’s holding you back from being truly authentic is your makeup, but get rid of that and pop on your costume and you’ll be there.”

Maureen was right, my makeup looked fine when I entered the salon, but it looked a little bit strange with my hair in bunches. I asked Maureen if I could use her washroom. Maureen agreed.

I entered the washroom, stood at the wash basin, removed all my jewellery and began scrubbing off all my makeup. This job was made much easier as there was no hair in the way. I then put my face down to the basin to wash. It was a real treat because I no longer had any long hair to get in the way by falling into the basin, all I could feel was my little bunches plopping slightly forward. At this point I realised why my Mum insisted that I wear my hair in bunches, they were far more practical and kept me looking neat and tidy. I finished washing and looked in the mirror, at first was taken aback because there in front of me was the reflection of a little girl. Although I thought I resembled a little girl when I entered the washroom, now I was convinced that yes, I did look like a little girl with pure skin minus makeup. I flicked my bunches, gave myself a cute smile and left the washroom.

I presented myself at the counter to pay and Maureen looked up at me and said, “Wow, that’s done the trick. What a transformation, now you look the part.”

I thanked Maureen and asked how much I owed her. Maureen replied that it was a little unfair to charge adult rates for a back to school haircut so that she would charge me the same as for the little girl plus the cost of the bobbles.

I paid Maureen and left the salon feeling very happy, no longer looking like the sexy lady with the luscious long hair who had entered the salon for a trim, but looking like a happy schoolgirl with cute little bunches that any Mum would be proud of.

On my way home I decided to walk to the local shopping mall. I saw my friend Jo on the other side of the road and shouted out to her. At first Jo didn’t recognise me so I crossed the road and ran after her. At this point another of the advantages of bunches was presented to me because I was used to my long mane of hair falling all over the place when I ran, normally ending up in a complete mess. This time I had no hair to fall in the way and all that happened was that my bunches bounced sweetly and fell back neatly into place when I came to rest. I caught up with Jo, who initially looked at me slightly puzzled, but after a brief moment the penny dropped and she came out with a big broad smile.

“Hi Helen, how you doin’?”

“I’m fine thanks and you?”

“Yes I’m good. Sorry I didn’t recognise you but wow, where’s all your hair gone?”

“Oh I got fed up with it and fancied a change so had it taken off.”

“Good for you, you’ll find it much better short.” (Jo had short hair too) “And what about these bunches, they’re so cute!”

“Thank you, the thing is that my hair’s too short to tie back into a ponytail, so it’s either loose or bunches.”

“Oh I see, and this must be the first time I’ve ever seen you without makeup, what’s up?”

“Well I’m going swimming later and you know what it’s like when your makeup runs. Do you think I look silly?”

“No not at all, I think the natural look suits you really well and I do like these bunches. You look so sweet, you should come out like this more often.”

“Thank you, I think I will.”

Jo said that she had to run but said that she was meeting up with the gang later and suggested that I should come along.

Having decided it would be nice to go out for the evening I went home to get myself ready. I got out my normal clothes, cropped top and little skirt, but felt that although I could get away with them with my bunches, I couldn’t without makeup. I decided that I didn’t want either earrings or makeup so I would have to wear something other than the norm. I pulled out a flowery summer skirt, a white blouse and a cardigan, put them on and stood in front of the mirror. I looked really nice and it enhanced my little girl look, but it was too much to go out for the evening. I did feel comfortable looking as I did so decided to stay in the clothes.

I decided that I needed some groceries so decided to pop down to the shops. I felt really comfortable being dressed in my rather plain, young-looking clothes which, after all, perfectly complemented my bunches, so decided to pop to the shops dressed as I was.

It felt good walking and skipping down the street feeling carefree with my bunches bouncing, I guess just as a little girl would. I entered the shop, picked up my groceries but then I discovered the first drawback of my new appearance. I wanted to buy a bottle of wine but thought I might have a problem with my perceived age. There I was, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and twiddling with one of my bunches in the other, giggling to myself that I’d feel really silly if I got refused on the basis of age. I decided to leave the wine, oh well, never mind!

I arrived at the wine bar to meet my friends. I had sorted my clothing and was now wearing a plain denim skirt and jumper, which went well with my bunches. I’d decided to go without makeup and jewellery and just to add the icing to the cake I removed my nail varnish and cut my nails short, as after all, short nails are far more practical.

Initially my friends were surprised at my new appearance but each and everyone said that they really liked it. They all said that I looked sweet with my bunches and how refreshing it was to see me without makeup. They all
said that I was brave to have chopped off all my hair but it was nice that I now had short hair. Some of the girls kept flicking their long hair in front of me, I don’t know whether it was to rub it in that I’d lost my long hair, but I didn’t mind, I liked being short!

It was a strange situation for me because normally when we went out I was the babe of the bunch. However, thanks to Maureen and her scissors, on this occasion I was no longer the babe who got all the admiring looks from the guys. I had in fact become the nice looking girl of the group with my fresh skin, sensible clothes and cute pigtails. If you’d asked me before if I could handle no longer being the babe, I’d have said absolutely no way, but if you asked me now, I’d say no problem. The fact was that I was completely happy being out of the limelight and comfortable with my appearance. I went home a very happy person.

I arrived home (sober, which made a change), stood in front of a mirror and reflected on what I had done. I concluded that I had done really well. Although I was unsure as to why I’d done what I’d done, I was sure that I’d handled my transformation really well and had sorted some hang-ups from the past. I wondered to myself what hang-ups from the past I could handle next….

One immediately came to mind. I’d previously fallen out with a boyfriend because he had suggested that I tend a little more to my bikini line. I thought he must have been a bit of a pervert to have such an idea and broke up with him soon after. However, looking at myself in the mirror, the idea no longer seemed so strange. After all, I wasn’t very tall, not very well endowed (especially without my Wonderbra) and now that my hair was in bunches, my pubic area actually looked a little out of place. I started wondering to myself and concluded that as I had no intention of dating in the near future no one would know and besides, it might be fun!

Without thinking any harder, I picked up a pair of scissors and started snipping away. At first I snipped slowly and nervously just around the edges, but in no time this feeling of excitement came over me and I started snipping at my pubic hair with more vigor. The feeling of excitement slowly turned to absolute desire as my view changed from “I wonder what I’d look like without this hair” to “I hate this hair, I can’t stand it, I just want it gone!” My snipping became more ferocious as I gave up with just doing the edges and went straight to the middle, I took a big clump from the middle and left myself with no choice, my pubic hair had to come off!

The snipping seemed to take ages, so I picked up my Ladyshave and just went for it. In less than a minute by pubic region had been reduced to stubble, but I still wasn’t satisfied. Before I knew it, I’d lathered myself and was scraping away the remnants of my pubic hair and my adulthood!

In less than 5 minutes I was done. I wiped away the excess foam and massaged my newly exposed region with baby oil. It felt so smooth, so clean and so natural. I was as smooth as the day I was born and back to where I guess I wanted to be: pre-puberty. I looked at myself in the mirror and stroked my newly exposed skin. I felt so clean and fresh. I smiled to my reflection as I realised that in less than a day I had fully regressed to the way I looked when I was 12 or 13. I felt so young and innocent, it felt so very good!

I reluctantly removed my bobbles, said good night to my bunches and went to bed hugging my teddy bear, which was something I hadn’t done since I was a little girl. I had a very good night’s sleep.

The next day was Saturday. I awoke at about 10 and went through the normal getting-up rituals. Feeling still sleepy and not quite with it, the happenings of the previous day had not yet come to my mind when I picked up my hairbrush and went to brush my long hair. As was usual, I ran the brush from my temple downwards towards my back. My memories soon came flooding back when the brush reached my lower neck because I found myself brushing freshly exposed skin, there was no hair! A warm feeling ran through my body as I ran to the mirror and viewed the new short-haired me. I ran my hands through my short hair, I looked neat and tidy and it felt so good.

The next reminder of my previous day’s actions was when I got in the shower. I turned on the shower, squeezed some shower gel and proceeded to wash down my body. All was fine until I reached my pubic area, which, rather than being full and bushy as was normal, was now perfectly smooth. In fact I was as smooth and hair-free as the day I was born. A warm feeling of satisfaction came over me as I looked down to see my hair-free area, I looked so clean and innocent. I looked just like a little girl, and felt so glad that I’d regressed to pre-puberty. At that moment I knew that I’d done the right thing and felt that I never wanted to reach puberty again. I wanted to remain clean, smooth and innocent. I wanted to remain just as I was the day I was born!

Having got dressed and had breakfast etc. it was time to experiment. I sat myself in front of the mirror and took a long hard look at myself. I concluded that although I liked my new haircut very much, it was indeed a “back to school” short haircut. Although it looked a little like a bob, it wasn’t, the hairdresser had cut my hair almost bowl-like. It was slightly shorter at the sides and trimmed at a slight angle so it was longer at the back. You couldn’t say that I had a real style as my hair was just hanging simply, just like a little girl’s.

Although I was really happy with my short hair, the only problem I could see was that if I was active or working at my desk, my hair was at the length where it would plop forward and fall in my eyes. I could see that this would annoy me so I had to figure out how I could keep it tied back. I picked up a scrunchy and tried to pull my hair back in a ponytail. I couldn’t, my hair was too short! I giggled to myself as the memories came flooding back as to when I was a little girl and my mum had made me have my hair cut too short for a ponytail but still insisted that my hair be tied back. I smiled at my reflection, picked up my bobbles, and said out loud, “Right my girl, let’s get you tidied up and get this hair into bunches.”

I had never put my hair in bunches before and really struggled. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my hair to part properly or for my bunches to look equal. There was only one thing for it; find a helpful hairdresser who would get me looking nice for my fictitious fancy dress party.

I phoned several hairdressers and at 12.30 visited Nancy who in 5 minutes had my hair in the tightest, cutest bunches with a perfect centre parting that any mother would be proud of. I asked Nancy for some tips on how to put my hair in bunches, just in case they fell out before the party and she duly obliged. In no time at all I became proficient at putting my hair in the cutest little bunches imaginable.

I left the salon and grabbed a coffee and whilst reflecting two thoughts came to mind. Thought one was what was I going to do about my hair for work. The answer was an Alice band. It would hold my hair back from my face it wouldn’t make me look like a little girl, but it would look kind of sweet at the same time as being professional. The second thought was my Mum and how she’d be thrilled to see me looking like this. She never liked my long hair and would be so pleased to see that I was now nice and short. I decided to give her a call from my mobile and arranged to spend the next weekend with her.

Sunday was shopping day as, after all, I needed new clothes for my new image, both for at home and at work. I popped my hair into bunches and arrived at the Mall at 11a.m. The first task was to buy clothes for home so I went to all the young people’s clothing shops. I bought various items; from clothes that were highly appropriate for a nice young lady to sensible underwear including white ankle socks and a nice pair of flat shoes, all of which would go with my bunches. My favo
urite items were a little plaid skirt, a pair of fluffy Mickey Mouse slippers and a Minnie Mouse nightshirt. The next task was sorting my appearance for work. I’d concluded that although wearing my hair in an Alice band would look appropriate, it changed my appearance somewhat so rather than looking like the office babe, I now looked rather plain in comparison. This meant that my old style of wearing makeup would have to change and my trendy pencil skirts and tight tops no longer fitted the bill.

I popped into the washroom, took out my bunches, pulled my hair back with my Alice band and put on my Wonderbra. I proceeded to the makeup counter of the department store and asked for a makeover. I explained that I wasn’t used to wearing makeup so could they help me. The assistant suggested something understated and by the time she’d finished I looked plain and respectable and totally different to the way I normally looked with makeup. I left the store with a complete new range of products and looking a little more like a grown-up than when I’d entered the mall.

I decided to replace my fashionable work clothes with plain and professional skirts and dresses. My favourite was a floral Laura Ashley dress that was very comfortable, conservative and ladylike.

After a hard day’s shopping I arrived home and settled in for a relaxing night in. I sorted my clothes, discarded my old trendy garments and replaced them with my new appropriate clothes. I then proceeded to pamper myself. First I removed my makeup and Alice band and put my hair up in bunches. I ran a bath and removed my clothes and caught a reflection of myself in the mirror. Although by now I was getting used to seeing myself with bunches, the sight of my hair-free pubic area took my breath away, I looked so clean and felt so smooth. It didn’t feel strange at all, it felt so natural and innocent. I was glad to have lost the responsibilities of adulthood and so pleased to have become a little girl again.

Monday morning came so soon and before I knew it I was back to work. Although I was a little nervous presenting myself to my colleagues, on the whole things went really well and although my hair and plain clothes got a mixed reception, most people complimented me on having cut my hair. My boss, a much older lady, pulled me into her office and explained that she was thrilled with my new appearance, she said that she much preferred me with short hair and that my clothes were far more appropriate. She said that now I was taking things a little more seriously I had a good future with the company, but I’d be advised to keep my hair short and forget any ideas of having long hair again. I assured her that I’d said goodbye to my long locks and from now on I was a short-haired girl.

I arrived home feeling that I’d had a very good day. I jumped into the shower, removed my makeup, popped my hair into bunches and changed into my new “at home” clothes. I decided to put on my plaid skirt, a pink blouse and blue cardigan, flat shoes and white socks. I looked in the mirror and had to admit I really looked the part, I looked just like a little girl! I couldn’t help put place my hand in my panties and was very reassured to feel that I was nice and smooth and resembled a little girl in just about every aspect.

I decided to show off the new me to the world so went for a walk. I walked past the construction site where I normally got wolf whistles, but this time there was no reaction from the workers. After all why would they take any notice of me, it’s not as if I look like a babe! I then entered the liquor store to buy some cigarettes. I don’t smoke but I wanted to see what would happen. The assistant asked my age and I replied that I was 16. The assistant apologised and said that unless I had some I.D. or a letter from my parents I couldn’t have them. I left the store feeling very happy because my experiment had worked, not only did I feel like a little girl but I obviously looked like a little girl and most importantly was being treated as a little girl. I went home very happy.

The rest of the week went well until Thursday morning, when I became very itchy. To my disappointment, my pubic area was sprouting and neither looked nor felt very nice. Drastic action was required. I requested the afternoon off work and proceeded to the drug store. I explained to the assistant that I wanted to sort my bikini line and as I didn’t want to continually have to tend to it, were there any creams that were long lasting. The assistant informed me that there was a new product that would remove hair and stubble for at least 6 months. I said I’d take it. The assistant gave me the package and joked that it’s powerful stuff and I should be careful on application as I might lose the lot! I laughed and thought to myself, “If only you knew!”

I popped into McDonalds for lunch and saw a mother with a little girl who had little bunches just like mine. The little girl looked ever so sweet and the only difference was that she had the cutest little fringe (bangs) you could wish for. This got me thinking that perhaps I should have a fringe too. I didn’t have to think for too long before desire got hold of me and I found myself searching out a hairdresser. I entered a salon and came out with the now familiar excuse of could they help me for a fancy dress party.

In no time Sylvia, the new hairdresser, had removed my Alice band and had placed my hair in bunches. I asked her if she thought I looked the part, she replied yes, although a little reservedly. I then asked her if she thought I’d look better with a fringe (bangs). Sylvia replied that if I really wanted to look the part, it would look better. I replied that I did want to look authentic, so without further question Sylvia removed my bobbles and combed my hair forwards, covering my eyes. Sylvia placed her scissors at I guess a little above eyebrow level and then said to herself, “Uhm, for a little girl,” and then moved her scissors I guess an inch or so higher up my forehead.

My heart was racing and the most incredible feeling came over me as Sylvia started to snip. In no time vision had been restored to my right eye as it was cleared of the curtain of hair and I could see the remainder of my hair gently fall into my lap as it was being gently snipped away. In less than a minute Sylvia had given me the cutest little fringe. She hadn’t given me choice on length or whether I wanted an “adult” fringe but took it upon herself to cut my fringe just like a little girl. Sylvia combed through the rest of my hair and asked that as she had scissors at hand, would I like any more off? Without thinking I said, “Well yes, just a little, but only if I could still have bunches and if it was cut into the same style.” Sylvia, without saying another word, commenced cutting about an inch and a half off the length. This worried me a little as I thought she was cutting too much off for bunches. I mentioned to her that what with my bunches and all, it was like having a back-to-school haircut. Sylvia laughed and replied that she guessed I was, but not to worry as it’s nice for adults to have fuss-free short haircuts too. She asked me if I always wore my hair like this, I replied that up until recently I’d had long hair, but it was too much to fuss with. She replied that I was much better off with short hair and it was nice that I looked neat and tidy. In less than 3 minutes Sylvia had finished and had given me a very plain and simple short haircut.

“There you are, that’s much better, we can see your face now,” Sylvia said in a non-patronizing way. “Now let’s get you into bunches and looking nice for your party.”

I shouldn’t have worried about my hair being too short because in no time my hair was pulled into the tightest and cutest bunches you could dream of with the most precise parting possible. The only thing that was maybe a little disappointing was that Sylvia had used ponytail bands rather than bobbles. I shouldn’t have worried though because Sylvia went to a drawer and pulled out some pretty pink ribbon and proceeded to
tie pretty bows in my hair. I didn’t quite know what to say, I hadn’t worn ribbons in my hair since I was maybe 7 or 8, but it did make me look very cute and certainly made me feel very girly.

Sylvia commented that now I definitely looked the part now and said in a jovial manner, “Right then, little girl, we’d best send you off to your party.” I thanked Sylvia and headed for home.

Once at home, I couldn’t wait to sort out my bikini area. In no time I’d covered my pubic are with the magical lotion that was to keep me clean, smooth and innocent for at least 6 months. In less than 15 minutes I’d finished and I was as clean, smooth and innocent looking as the day I was born. I’d delayed puberty for at least 6 months and was feeling very pleased with myself.

Friday was dress-down day, so I discarded the floral dress that had perfectly accompanied my Alice band, didn’t bother with makeup, put on my flowery summer skirt, a white blouse and a cardigan and finally… you guessed it! I put my hair in bunches. I didn’t go as far as using bobbles in my hair, preferring simple ponytail bands and although I didn’t look quite as the little girl as I did in private, I did look rather sweet and innocent.

My new appearance at work went down well, in fact better than I’d expected and most people commented that they liked my fringe and that it was better for me that my hair was out of my face. I did however get a few comical remarks such as “Who’s that little girl sat at Helen’s desk? Oh it’s Helen, sorry luvvie but I didn’t recognise you,” and “Did your Mum cut your fringe? Don’t worry, I’ll get her!” but I didn’t mind, in fact I took it as a compliment.

5.30 came and it was time to leave work and start the weekend. I changed into jeans and a jumper and started the journey to my parents’. I wondered what reception I’d get….

To be continued…

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