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What better way to enjoy a long overdue day off work than stay in bed until mid-morning? After finally getting up and having a long, relaxing shower, Claire put on her dressing gown and walked out of her bedroom. As she headed for the kitchen, to make herself a drink, she could see that the postman had been. A selection of different sized envelopes lay on the floor. Picking them up, Claire noticed a small packet. Her eyes rolled when she noticed that the packet was addressed to a woman living on the next floor up. Since moving in three weeks ago, Claire had soon discovered that incorrectly delivered mail was all too common an occurrence in her new apartment block. It was as if the postman didn’t care who received what, seemingly relying on the residents’ goodwill to pass on each others’ post.

“That dumb postman!” She uttered, shaking her head. She walked through into her kitchen and put the kettle on. Then, one by one, she began opening her post. There were the usual utility bills, credit offers and a bank statement, but nothing of any special interest. The kettle boiled, and she made herself a mug of black coffee. As she leant against the kitchen worktop, sipping her drink, she picked up the packet again.

The label clearly stated it was for the apartment upstairs. The block had four floors, each of which had four apartments. Claire lived at number 11, and the parcel was clearly addressed to Miss Helena Bradbury at number 15. The postman just got it wrong! As she inspected the packet, she noticed that its flap had become loose. To be honest, it didn’t look as if the adhesive had stuck very well at all. Claire looked at the packet and feared that her neighbour might think she’d opened the packet herself? Perhaps if she taped the flap down, she wouldn’t realise what had happened? Claire opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out a roll of tape, intending to securely fasten the packet closed.

However, her curiosity got the better of her. Would it hurt to have a peek inside if she was going to tape it up anyway? Who would know? Carefully inserting her slender fingers, she prised the packet apart and looked inside. Claire could see what she thought were three CDs. As a music lover, she was intrigued to learn what kind of music Miss Bradbury liked and, if they were albums Claire fancied, she might even copy them before passing the parcel on to her neighbour. Very carefully, she lifted them out of the packet. Once out, she realised that they were DVDs, and not CDs as she had first thought. The only identifying mark was the word `makeover’, written on each of the three discs.

The lack of any labels or information on the DVD cases only fuelled her curiosity even more. Makeover? What kind of makeover? Would it hurt if she had a quick look at one of these discs and find out what it was about? With great care, she opened up one of the three cases and removed the disc. Claire went through into her living room and switched on her television, inserting the disc into her DVD player. Picking up the remote control, she sat on the arm of her sofa and waited for the action to begin.

The disc began with the filming of an empty chair, similar to what is used in modern hairdressing and beauty salons. A large, fabric backdrop obscured the view behind it. Claire thought it looked as though it was a home movie of some kind, as there was no sound and the picture quality wasn’t of professional quality. All of a sudden, a young woman, aged in her early twenties, appeared and sat in the chair. She was slim and had long, poker-straight, blonde hair. Then an older woman, possibly in her late thirties and wearing thick-rimmed glasses, appeared and began to cape the younger woman. Once the cape was secured fastened, the older woman ran her hands through her the younger woman’s hair, fanning it out across her shoulders. She then stepped out of shot for a couple of seconds, only to return holding a pair of hair clippers!

Claire stared at her television screen, partly in disbelief, as she comprehended what she was seeing. The older woman switched on the clippers and held them up for the young woman to see. Her response was an anxious look of concern. To Claire’s amazement, the older woman then put the clippers against the young woman’s neck and began pushing them upward. A mass of blonde hair built up around the head of the clippers as they were pushed up the back of her head. Lacking any emotion, the older woman flicked her wrist and the severed hair fell to the floor. She began to make another pass with the clippers. Blonde hair cascaded down as the blades cut away this young woman’s crowning glory.

Claire could hardly believe it. The young girl was having her beautiful long hair shorn off!. The young woman’s shaved scalp was now clearly visible, as the older woman gradually worked around her. Her caped shoulders, and her lap, were covered by a mass of shorn, blonde hair. With the back and sides done, the older woman now placed the clipper head on her forehead, and drew the clippers back across the top of her head, instantly removing the last trance of that luxurious blonde mane. The older woman switched the clippers off and walked out of shot, leaving the young woman solemnly sitting in the chair and staring into the camera lens. Then the screen faded to black and, as soon as it had began, the disc finished.

Claire just sat there for a moment, left speechless at what she’d just witnessed. She`d never seen anything like it before. Even down at her regular hairdressers, no woman had ever had her hair sheared off like that! What woman would have such beautiful long hair sheared off like that? It was shocking but, at the same time, there was something about it that Claire found surprisingly daring and exciting. Her attention immediately turned to the other two discs. She began to wonder what surprises they might contain, and was soon fetching them back from the kitchen. Having loaded one of the discs, and sat perched on the edge of her sofa, she excited pressed the play button on her remote control.

Once again, the disc began with the empty salon-style chair. After a few seconds, another young woman was this time frog-marched to the chair by the same older woman. The young woman was pushed down into the chair unceremoniously, and the cape was swiftly thrown around her. As before, the older woman showed little emotion as she pulled the younger woman’s long, blonde hair out from under the cape, fanning it out as she had done previously.

However, this time she produced a pair of scissors and immediately grabbed a handful of the girl’s long locks. Without hesitation, she sank the scissor blades deep into the mass of hair and closed them together. Instantly, a twenty-inch long length of blonde hair fell from the young girl’s head. The girl appeared to shriek out in horror, but the older woman didn’t pause for a second. She grabbed another fistful of blonde locks and cut them off close to the scalp. With tears streaming down her face, the young girl looked hysterical as she watched her crowning glory fall around her, clearly distressed by the pile of blonde hair collecting on her caped lap. By contrast, her barberette methodically continued to cut away at her golden tresses, ensuring that each cut was made hard against the young girl’s scalp. At one point, the barberette pulled hard on a roughly gathered ponytail of blonde hair hair, jerking back the young girl’s head, before cutting that same ponytail free and throwing it carelessly onto her caped victim’s lap. Claire watched opened mouthed. It was a mean and savage haircut, and clearly forced upon the young girl. She stared at her television screen as the older woman relentlessly cut away all evidence of that beautiful blonde mane.

The girl was looking completely distraught, sitting in the chair, sobbing uncontrollably. Her once prized hair now draped across her caped shoulders, sliding down into her lap or down onto the floor. Her head had been transformed. Only a few small, random tufts of blonde hair survived. There were even a few
small cuts, where the sharp scissor blades had hugged the skin a little too close. Claire couldn’t believe her eyes. This girl’s treatment had been horrific, she thought, but Claire couldn’t help but feel strangely aroused by it. She had found the older woman’s obvious domination of her victim somewhat stimulating, and even the idea of receiving such a forced haircut held a certain appeal.

Moved by the images she’d just watched, Claire couldn’t help but notice that both victims had sported long, blonde hair similar to her own. Perhaps, this is why both films had had such a strong effect on her? Watching both victims sat in that chair, she could easily imagine it being her forcibly caped and having her blonde locks cut off against her will. Claire had grown her hair for as long as she could remember and, currently, it reached midway down her back. Whilst she may have pondered having her hair cut shorter, she’d never felt brave enough to walk into a salon and ask to have a short style. She feared they would cut too much off! Yet, ironically, not only was she enjoying watching these dramatic haircuts, but she was also excited by the sense of domination and of being forced to receive such a savage haircut. She remembered reading about French women who, labelled as traitors and conspirators, were forced to have their hair shorn by fellow countrymen after the Second World War. Since reading their accounts, Claire had always harboured a secret yearning to be on the receiving end of such a haircut. Now, having watched the films in the privacy of her own apartment, she realised that there was part of her that really would love to experience that whole forced haircut scenario. Without even thinking about it, she immediately loaded the third disc into her player. She returned to her sofa in anticipation of what this one would contain.

As before, the film began with the empty chair. For a few seconds nothing happened, then a slim, young woman walked up to the chair. She was dressed in a stunning, figure-hugging, black dress, and slowly lowered herself into the chair to face directly at the camera. Her face was immaculately made up, and she was wearing a pearl necklace and matching earrings. Most striking of all was her long, blonde hair. Parted on the side, and poker-straight, it hung down as far as her shapely breasts.

As she smiled at the camera, appearing to be patiently waiting for something, Claire couldn’t help noticing how attractive this young woman was. Surely she wasn’t about to have her beautiful hair cut off? The young reached up and ran her hand slowly through her hair. Still smiling, she then turned her headed sharply in order to toss her hair from one side to the other. Her blonde mane was magnificent! The woman was then seen to look over to the side of her, smiling broadly. From the right-hand side of the screen, the older woman appeared once more, and walked around to stand behind the seated stunner. Claire gasped as she watched the events unfold.

The older woman began to comb through her client’s blonde locks, taking her time as if to delay the inevitable. Despite the lack of sound, Claire could see that the young woman was completely at ease as she chatted merrily to her barberette. As her hair was combed, she constantly smiled and grinned for the camera, and did not appear at all nervous. By contrast, Claire’s heart was pounding like a drum. She knew this beauty was about to succumb to the scissors, or maybe the clippers, and all of her gorgeous hair was about to hit the floor! As the older woman stepped out of shot, Claire’s excitement intensified and she felt herself become more and more aroused by the expectation of watching this latest victim shorn.

The older woman reappeared, holding her favoured clippers. Standing behind her seated client, she reached over and placed the clipper head against her hairline. Claire could see that the older woman had not fitted any guard to the clippers. She clearly intended to shear this girl completely! The barberette seemed to pause for a few seconds, and then slowly pulled the clippers back across that petite scalp. The young woman appeared to squeal with delight as her blonde hair rained down in front of her eyes, falling down all over the contrasting black dress. The clippers mowed a wide, clear path across her blonde locks, leaving her bare scalp exposed in its wake. The older woman reached over again, and made a second pass. Another mass of blonde hair fell onto the black dress as the young woman laughed freely, clearly enjoying her liberation from those long locks. The clippers made repeated passes across her scalp. Each time, long lengths of blonde hair cascaded down, covering the young woman’s shoulders and dropping down onto the floor. She closed her eyes and seemed to moan in ecstasy as the clippers were manoeuvred around her ears, and run repeatedly up her nape. Seeing her response aroused Claire even more. Was having your head sheared really this pleasurable? As the older woman made the final touches, Claire could see the overwhelming pleasure the young woman felt. Her face was beaming with delight as she joyfully rubbed her freshly shorn scalp. To Claire’s surprise, the young woman looked even more attractive than she had done before. Her face had a new freshness about it, and her features seemed more defined. She was absolutely gorgeous! Claire watched as she stood up, brushed the mass of blonde hair off her dress, and spun around excited waving her hands up in the air! Even the older woman could be seen smiling at her client’s reaction. The film ended with the young woman walking up to the camera lens, pouting at it provocatively, and then kissing it until the picture faded.

Claire ejected the disc and carefully placed it back into its packaging. Holding the packet in her hand, her mind raced over what she had just witnessed on her television screen. She reached up and ran her hand through her own damp hair, imagining how it would feel to have it shaved off. Despite her long-standing intrigue, she’d never seriously considered it before. Mind you, her love-hate relationship cycle with her hair had recently re-entered the hate phase. She was tired of all the conditioning, the drying, the styling, and pretty much everything associated with keeping long hair looking its best. Of course, she’d felt like this before. Claire was convinced that all longhaired women get frustrated from time to time and contemplate having their hair chopped off? It was a woman thing! Fortunately for her glorious mane, in the past, she’d succumb to nerves and second thoughts just long enough for her love relationship to blossom again, and her long tresses to be forgiven. This time, however, her luscious locks were under serious threat. Already feeling ready for a change of hairstyle, the films had struck a chord with Claire and now, as she sat blow-drying those tiresome locks, the idea of a radical solution carried more clout than ever!

First, she would first return the discs to Miss Bradbury. Sealing up the packet with parcel tape, Claire decided she would do this in person, as this would give her the opportunity to meet her, and satisfy her curiosity as to what she was like. After all, the discs had been intended for Miss Bradbury, and so she obviously had an interest in seeing people shorn of their hair!

Secondly, she would go and get her hair cut. Then again, maybe it would be better not to just march down to the local hairdressing salon, but to ask her two closest friends for their opinions first? Already, she hated herself for hesitating and not having the commitment to act on impulse. Perhaps she should just go and get it cut? Why did she need to run the idea past her friends? Wouldn’t they just talk her out of it again? As had happened on so many previous occasions, part of her screamed to have those long locks finally hacked off and the other half argued that she would regret such a decision bitterly. She finished getting dressed and walked back through to the kitchen. Unable to decide one way or the other, she picked up her keys, handbag and t
he packet for Miss Bradbury, and headed for the door.

As she walked up the staircase, towards number 15, she reached up and tied her hair into a ponytail. She approached the door. A handwritten note had been taped across the letterbox. It read `letterbox not in use – please ring bell’, which Claire duly did. For a few seconds, there was no response. Then, she heard the lock being turned, and the door began to open.

Claire’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Standing in the doorway stood the stunningly attractive young woman featured on the third film. Her blonde hair had grown, but Claire easily recognised her immediately. She was dressed in a cream sweater, tight blue jeans, and wore calf-length brown boots.

“Oh, hello.” She said in a surprised tone, as she pulled the door fully open. Claire struggled to muster a reply. She couldn’t believe it was the same woman.

“Hi, sorry to bother you,” Claire said nervously, “but I have this parcel for you. It was delivered to mine by mistake.” She held up the package for the young woman to see. “I live on the next floor down. I don’t know what the postman was thinking? It’s clearly labelled for you.” Claire explained.

“Oh, that’s sweet of you.” The young woman replied, taking the package from Claire’s hand. “Won’t you please come in?” Claire hesitated. She had only intended to drop off the parcel, but now she was being asked inside? The woman stepped to one side of the doorway, making room for Claire to walk through, which she did feeling obliged to accept the invitation. “I’m Lisa by the way.” The young woman announced, as Claire walked past.

“Lisa?” Queried Claire, expecting her name to be Helena. “But the address says..”

“Helena? That’s my sister.” Lisa replied. “I’ll go and get her in a minute. She’ll definitely want to meet you….I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Oh, forgive me. I’m Claire.”

“You live downstairs you say? What number Claire?”

“Eleven.” She answered, as Lisa closed the door behind her.

“Do you live alone?”

“Err, yes.” Claire confirmed. Lisa smiled at her, and then walked towards the kitchen.

“Do you drink white wine Claire?” She asked. “I’ve just opened a bottle, and it’s much more pleasant than tea or coffee.” Claire nodded and followed her towards the kitchen, pausing in the doorway.

“What do you do for a living?” Claire asked, deciding to find out more about her neighbour. Lisa didn’t answer at first, concentrating on pouring Claire a large glass of wine which she then offered to her guest.

“I’m a photographer.” She finally replied, nodding over at some framed prints on the hallway wall. “That’s some of my work.” Claire turned and looked at the pictures. They were both black and white photographs of naked female torsos, artistically lit and very atmospheric, and leaving nothing to the imagination. “There’s some more in the living room if you want to have a look? Go on through, and I’ll go and tell Helena that you’re here.” Claire smiled and carried her glass of wine with her through to view the other pictures.

The living room was lavishly decorated and furnished, as was the rest of the apartment as far as Claire could tell. She was mildly jealous, as her own flat was still a mess after moving in, and she felt as though she was still living out of boxes Above the grand looking fireplace, Claire spotted another framed black and white photograph. This one featured a female, whose hair was cut very short, with her tongue pressed hard into the navel of another female’s naked torso. It appeared that Lisa specialised in erotic photography. There were very good pictures and very tastefully done, although seeing them openly displayed did unease Claire slightly.

“She’s coming now.” Announced Lisa, as she walked into the room carrying the parcel. She sat down on the sofa and looked over at Claire. “Do you like it?” She asked, tearing the packet open. Claire watched her pull out the three discs, almost fearing what she intended to do with them. “The picture Claire? Do you like it?” Lisa repeated, now inspecting each case in turn.

“Oh, yes…yes, it’s really good.” Claire answered nervously, waiting for some reaction from Lisa.

“It certainly beats having a mirror there eh?” She laughed, placing the discs back into the packet. Suddenly, Helena walked into the room. She was a little taller than her younger sister, but was equally as attractive. The big difference was her hair. Whereas Lisa had allowed her blonde hair to grow back into a short, choppy style, using a wax or gel to give it some texture, Helena had long, brown hair, tied back into one long plait that hung halfway down her back. That, together with her thick-rimmed glasses, gave her a quite stern appearance. She was wearing a light-blue, silk blouse, and a tightly fitting, black knee-length skirt.

“Hello Claire, I’m so glad you came.” She said boldly. She then turned to Lisa. “Did she watch the films?” Claire was hit by a wave of embarrassment and self-consciousness. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard Helena ask!!

“Well, put it this way, the seals are broken on all three.” Replied her sister. “So I think it’s safe to assume she did.” Claire felt her face burn red. She hadn’t noticed any `seals’ on the cases! How could she have been so careless? Now she was well and truly busted! She looked nervously over at Lisa, who just grinned back at her, nodding as if to confirm that she had indeed been found out. “Judging by her expression, I think she definitely watched the films!” Added Lisa, obviously enjoying how uncomfortable Claire looked! There were a few seconds of uncomfortable silence as Claire debated whether or not to just come clean and confess her guilt. She sighed heavily, deciding that honesty was the best policy, especially given the circumstances.

“Listen, I’m sorry!” She gushed. “It’s just as the packet was already open and….well, I was just curious. I’m really sorry! I shouldn’t have done it.” She pleaded, wishing that the ground would swallow her up. Lisa continued to smile over at her, but Helena took a few steps in Claire’s direction and gave her a questioning look.

“So you did watch the films?” She asked. “All three?”

“Yes.” Claire answered. “I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing to do.” Helena turned and looked at the framed picture, over the fireplace. She seemed to be thoughtfully contemplating her response.

“Tell me Claire, what did you think when you watched them?” Her tone was calm, but slightly menacing. “How did they make you feel?” Claire didn’t know how to answer this. The films had intensely aroused her, and she was even considering a short haircut on the strength of having watched them, but she was too nervous to reveal that!

“They were very interesting.” She said timidly.

“Interesting?” Jeered Helena. “Just interesting?” Lisa sniggered, causing Claire to offer additional thoughts on what she’d seen.

“Well, I thought they were….well, I thought they were quite powerful.” Claire divulged. “I’ve never seen anyone have their head shaved before, especially not a woman, and so it was a bit surreal to be honest with you.”

“How about mine Claire?” Lisa asked. “You saw Helena shave my hair off didn’t you? How did that make you feel? Do you think I looked better with my hair long, or shaved completely off?” She added mischievously. Claire looked back over at Lisa and could sense the devilment in her.

“You seemed to enjoy your haircut,” she answered, “and you’re fortunate enough to look good with both long and short hair.” Lisa chuckled.

“That sounds a little too non-committal Claire. How did you actually feel when Helena ran those clippers through my hair?” Despite Claire’s best attempts at staying impartial, Lisa was desperately pushing her for her true views. “What did you think?” She pressed.

“Well, I did wonder how it might feel.” Claire confessed. “I’ve always had long hair and I’ve often wondered what it would be like to go shorter? Although, I’ve never considered having my head shaved, I must admit!”

“Really? So what’s stopped you from having it cut shorter?” Lisa continued.

“I suppose I would always get cold feet?” Admitted Claire. “I’ve always thought I’d regret getting it cut. It takes so long to grow, doesn’t it?” Helena approached her and placed her arm across Claire’s shoulders.

“Let me show you something that really is interesting.” She said, gently guiding Claire towards the door. Lisa stood up and followed behind as they made their way out of the living room, across the hallway, and over to another room. Helena paused as she placed her hand on the door handle. “I want to show you our studio.” She announced, squeezing the handle and opening the door slowly. As she followed Helena inside, Claire could immediately see what looked like a home photographic studio. The room was surprisingly large, and there was camera equipment everywhere. Tripods, cameras, and lighting of various types, were placed around the room. Helena took Claire’s hand and led her further into the studio. They made their way around a tripod and lighting set-up towards a cloth backdrop, which was suspended from hooks in the ceiling.

As they walked to the side of the backdrop, Claire immediately recognised the salon chair stood behind it. The chair had a strange and almost sinister presence. It was positioned to face another large, framed, black and white photographic print, which was hung on the wall a few yards in front of it. As she stepped closer, Claire could see the picture featured a longhaired blonde girl, sat caped in the chair, having her hair shorn off by Helena. The picture had been taken from the side, and clearly showed Helena pushing the girl’s head forward as she ran the clippers right up the back of her head. Claire did not recognise the girl being shorn, but her long hair was falling off her shoulders and onto the floor. It was a stunningly provocative, and somewhat ominous, photograph! To add further menace to it, the picture had been captioned `who says blondes have more fun?’ across the bottom of the frame.

“This is where it all happens.” Announced Helena, walking over to stand at the back of the chair. “Those films you watched? They were all shot in this room,” she rubbed the chair lovingly, “and here’s the chair in which they all sat.” Claire could sense that this was all leading somewhere, but wasn’t entirely sure what to say. Helena looked up. “Do you like my picture?” She asked, nodding at the framed print.

“Yes.” Replied Claire. “Who is she?”

“Oh, just another blonde.” Helena said dismissively, lifting the cape from the back of the chair and shaking it loose. “Lisa took a few pictures of her, but I think this one captures the mood best of all. It’s that moment when the clippers make their first cut, and they realise that they really are about to lose all of their blonde hair!” She placed her hand on the chair again, and turned it slightly to face Claire. ” Well then?”

“Well what?” Claire answered with a puzzled look. Helena didn’t respond. She just stood behind the chair, holding the cape, and patting the back of the chair in a beckoning manner. The reality of the situation dawned on Claire, just as Lisa stepped up and gave her a gentle push towards the chair.

“You’re next.” She smiled, as Claire looked round at her anxiously. “You’ve always wondered what it would be like to have short hair, haven’t you?”

“Hey, now hold on a minute. I know I said that, but I don’t know if I’m ready to have it cut short just yet?” Objected Claire. “I’m not sure that I want my hair cut short.”

“Of course you do Claire! Why else did you come round here?” Enquired Helena, as Lisa gave Claire another friendly push towards the chair. “Don’t say it was to deliver that parcel. We both know that’s not the case, don’t we?” Helena persisted. “You know you want to have that long hair cut, so why don’t you just sit down and let me do it for you?”

Claire glanced down at the chair. It did look inviting and, yes, deep inside she did want to submit to the kind of forced haircut she’d often read about and even longed to experience But there was part of her that clung to the safety and sanctuary that blending into the crowd provided. She knew, having watched the films, that Helena wouldn’t just cut her hair shorter. No, Claire knew what the stakes were if Helena did entice her into that chair. Without doubt, Helena would take great delight in shearing all of Claire’s blonde tresses from her head. But wasn’t that she secretly hankered for? Hadn’t she chastised herself earlier for not acting on impulse, and wavering from having her long locks cut short?

Now, she needed only to sit down in this chair in front of her, and her locks would surely be consigned to the floor. Yet, she still lacked the courage. How would she explain such a radical transformation? Would her friends and work colleagues still treat her the same? How about her employer? The temptation was so great, and the chair looked so inviting, but she was still torn by indecision and nerves.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, will you just sit down Claire!” Helena said impatiently. ” Claire reacted like a scolded child and, docilely moved forward. Under Helena’s fixed glare, she gently lowered her body into the chair. Unseen by Claire, Lisa gave her sister a knowing smile.

After all of that persuasion, Claire now found herself sat facing the large framed print on the wall. She couldn’t take her eyes of the picture. Helena, dressed in a white salon-style tunic and wearing high heeled, black stilettos, shearing the anonymous female victim. The seated woman’s long, blonde hair must have been waist length, and the look of exhilaration on Helena’s face was clearly evident as she pushed those clippers deep into the mass of blonde locks. Claire stared at the picture. Her own situation differed little from the woman in the picture, for Claire’s hair reached midway down her back. Was she really ready to give it up? Her thoughts were interrupted as Helena swung the cape around her. Should she try to make a run for it, or just accept that fate had caught up with her? The fastening of the cape, tightly around her neck, only heightened Claire’s anxiety further. “Sometimes we just need to follow our feelings Claire.” Helena said, sensing her client’s agitation, and acting to distract her. “So many women are so scared to give up their long, blonde hair.” She continued. “They fail to see the negative effect it has on their lives.”

“What do you mean?” Asked Claire.

“It’s a sad fact of life, people will stereotype you Claire.” She replied, running her hands through Claire’s blonde locks. “Long, blonde hair gives off the wrong impression. If you want to go around looking like a `Barbie’ doll, people are going to assume you’ve never grown up, never matured, and are probably not that intelligent! Other women will think you’re using your Barbie looks to climb the career ladder, and men will only want to shag you! As a result, you never get any respect from anyone. You don’t have to believe me Claire. It took a few years to convince my sister, but look at her now?”

“She’s right Claire,” added Lisa, “you’ll see the difference straight away. You won’t believe the difference it makes! You’ll feel stronger, more confident, and so much more aware of who you are.” Helena pulled Claire’s hair free and fanned it across her shoulders.

“I’m still not really sure about this.” Claire contended, sensing that time was quickly running out. Helena just stroked her hair lovingly.

“That’s just last minute nerves Claire.” She reassured her. “Listen, remember how you felt when you watched those films? Remember how you felt as you watched me run those clippers over Lisa’s head, and all of that blonde hair was shaved off? Didn’t that turn you on, watching all that hair fall to the floor? Helena asked her in a soft whisper. “Well, it’s your turn now.” She ran her fingers through Claire’s blonde locks. “I’m going to get my clippers and I’m going to shave all of this blonde hair off.” Her words were having the desired effect. Claire focused on bearin
g sheared and not on her reservations about the aftermath. Soon, she was beginning to feel quite aroused again, and Helena could sense she was relaxing into the chair more. “That’s what you want isn’t it Claire? You want me to shave all of this long, blonde hair off your head, don’t you? Her words were soothing and stimulating in equal measures. Claire could feel her pussy getting wetter and wetter, as Helena continued to tease her. “Imagine all of your blonde locks tumbling to the floor as the clippers shave your scalp bare? Is that what you want?”

“I guess so.” Claire replied quietly, completely absorbed by her feelings. Helena looked across at Lisa, who was holding the electric clippers ready. She reached over and took them from her sister.

“Lean your head forward Claire.” Helena instructed her. Claire knew this was it! Once she tilted her head forward, she knew Helena would begin shaving her blonde locks. But she was so engrossed in the moment that she bowed her head without any hesitation. `POP’. Helena switched on the clippers. Claire could hear their distinct humming behind her. Bravely dismissing any last reservations, she finally accepted her fate and submitted to her secret desire. She felt Helena’s hand rest on her head, and felt her apply gentle pressure. Claire held her breath as she heard the humming of the clippers draw closer. Suddenly, she felt the clipper blades touch her neck and she let out a gasp.

“Yes!” Exclaimed Lisa, who keenly observed Helena gently push the clippers into Claire’s blonde hair. The humming tone changed slightly, and the sound of hair being sheared could clearly be heard. Claire could feel the clippers up against her scalp, being pushed higher and higher. This was the point of no return! She was having her head shaved! There was a sudden flash of light, accompanied by the sound of a camera shutter. Claire realised it was Lisa photographing her transformation but, at that moment, she did not care. She was entirely consumed by a heady mix of emotions. The clippers were lifted off her scalp and Helena took a large handful of blonde hair from the clipper head, dropping it onto Claire’s caped lap by way of confirmation that her shearing had truly begun.

“Take a last look at it Claire.” She said with a smug sense of satisfaction. “It’ll be a while before your hair is that length again!” Claire said nothing. The hair on her lap brought back a sense of reality. She really was having her hair shaved off!! She stared at the hair, almost in disbelief, imagining what her friends and work colleagues would say? Helena began another pass with the clippers, eager to shear Claire of all of that blonde hair.

“You could always give her a `Debbie’?” Suggested Lisa.

“Oh yes, Debbie!” Grinned Helena. “You remember watching Debbie receiving her scissor cut don’t you Claire?” How could she forget? The image of Helena savagely hacking her blonde hair away was etched in her memory.

“She cheated on our brother, so we hatched a plan for revenge. We invited her round for a drink on the pretence that we were acting as go-betweens. She actually thought we sympathised with her? But once she’d had a good few drinks, we gave that bitch what she deserved.” Said Lisa gleefully.

“Yeah, you should have heard her squeal as I chopped off all of her precious blonde locks. She was in tears!” Helena added. “Best of all, and this wasn’t on the film, we shaved her head with a blunt razor and then smeared hair removal cream all over her scalp. We didn’t even clean it off. We just kicked her out of the apartment to find her own way home. Her head must have really burnt!”

“Sounds like she deserved it” Claire concluded, happy that Helena was content to just use the clippers on her. Indeed, Helena had nearly worked her way around Claire’s head, with only the length remaining on the left-hand side.

“Have we got any of that hair remover left over?” Lisa asked Helena. Claire sensed she was up to mischief again.

“Yeah, I think we have some somewhere.” Helena replied. “Have a look in that box over there.” She said, pointing to a cardboard box in the corner. Out of the corner of her eye, Claire could see Lisa walk over and start rummaging through the box’s contents.

“Here it is!” Exclaimed Lisa, holding up the small blue-coloured tub. “Hey Helena, why don’t you give Claire a super smooth look? I think it would really suit her.”

“I suppose I could.” Pondered her sister, looking down on Claire’s freshly shorn scalp. “Thinking about it, I might as well.” Claire was mortified to her their latest suggestion.

“No, please don’t.” She pleaded. “I don’t want to be bald.”

“Don’t worry honey.” Lisa chuckled. “Trust me, you’ll look absolutely gorgeous with a bald head.” She walked back over to Helena and passed her the small tub.

“Please Helena, don’t use that!” Claire begged.

“Stop fretting Claire,” mocked Lisa, “it only takes a few minutes and then all of your hair follicles will be burnt to a crisp. How’s that for a low maintenance hairstyle!” As she spoke, Claire felt Helena begin to smear the cream across her scalp.

“NO! Please, don’t!” She cried, but it was too late. Much to Lisa’s amusement, Helena continued to coat Claire’s scalp with the pungent treatment.

“It’s too late now anyway Claire. It’s already on your head.” Helena replied. “It’ll be ready to rinse off by the time you get back to your apartment!” With that, she unfastened the cape and pulled it to one side. The mass of shorn, blonde hair fell to the floor as she did so and Claire almost leapt out of the chair.

“Of course, if you don’t wash it off soon it’ll begin to burn more than your roots, and you’ll end up with a scabby head.” Advised Lisa, grinning at Claire’s distress. “I’ll show you out shall I?” She continued. She walked ahead of Claire and calmly opened the front door. “Don’t forget to come back when the stubble does eventually break through!” Lisa gloated as Claire hurried past. She watched her scamper down the stairs, smiling wickedly as she did so, before closing the door.

Lisa walked through to the bathroom, where Helena was washing the cream off of her hands.

“Well, that was unexpected?” She said. Her sister turned round, busy drying her hands, and smiled back at her.

“Yes, they normally take a little longer than that.” She agreed. “Never mind, just put the films back in the packet, and we’ll post it back out again.”

“Anyone in particular?” Asked Lisa, leaning up against the doorway.

“Mmmmmmmmm, as it happens, I do have someone in mind.” Helena revealed. “There’s another Barbie in the next apartment block. I’ve seen her a few times when I’ve been parking my car. She drives a silver Z3.”

“Do you know what apartment?”

“Not yet. I’m sure the maintenance man can oblige us with that information again? I’ll phone him in a few minutes, and then you can take the packet around in the morning.”

“Okay.” Lisa nodded. She walked through to the living room and picked up the packet, carefully tearing off the tape that Claire had thoughtfully stuck on. Checking that all three discs were still inside, she smirked to herself. How gullible Claire had been? There were no seals on the disc cases but the power of suggestion, and her own feelings of guilt, had made Claire readily admit to having watched the makeover films. From that moment onwards, as with so many other blonde haired girls, Claire’s fate was always to be sat in Helena’s chair.

Lisa pushed the cases deep inside the packet and folded the packet’s flap over. Just as intended, it didn’t stick at all and the packet’s contents remained teasingly accessible. Lisa placed it on the coffee table, primed and ready for delivery. Helena would soon furnish her with a delivery address and, as soon as the postman had made his rounds in the morning, Lisa would pop the mysterious packet through the letterbox of another unsuspecting woman.

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