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Jenny always hated school and the long years spent in a classroom seemed to drag on and on in front of her. All of the classes were just so dull and she longed to be able to escape the claustrophobic confines of her school and enjoy the freedom of life in the outside world. Her school years were made even worse by the presence of the dreaded Ms. Peak. Although only in her mid-thirties, Ms. Peak had a reputation that was known throughout the school and beyond. Rules and regulations were the central part of her teaching, and she made it very clear that it was her goal in life to ensure that they were always followed, and followed to the letter. Her manner of dress added to the authoritarian air that surrounded her, with the dark, plain clothes, low-heeled shoes, and absence of any make-up at all. The look was topped with the dullest of hair styles – a poker straight, one-length bob with a straight fringe slightly above her bushy eyebrows. A style perhaps more suited to a fourteen year old than a mature woman in a responsible position.
Jenny dreaded the lessons where she taught by Ms. Peak and every year she seemed doomed to spend long hours under her stern and disapproving gaze. Jenny had always had a keen interest in fashion and would spend many hours flicking through magazines, picking up on all the latest style trends. Never afraid to experiment with how she looked, Jenny was always the first in school with the latest look, always ahead in the trend stakes. As a result she was constantly in trouble with the school authorities who demanded that all students stuck rigidly to the uniform prescribed by the regulations. It was over this more than any other issue that Jenny found herself almost constantly clashing with Ms. Peak.
Once more Jenny found herself staring at the hardly moving clock face on the wall of the detention room as she started yet another long and tedious spell in trouble again. This time her skirt had been deemed too short and so the result was another wasted Saturday morning. Jenny was particularly annoyed this time as she had recently started working in a local hair salon on Saturday mornings. While she had always been interested in clothes and make-up, it was hair that really got her excited. Her mother would not let her choose how her hair was styled until she had graduated, and from then on she vowed that would try every style that she could. In a hidden file at home she kept a collection of pictures of all the styles that she would try once she had the freedom to choose. She glanced up at the front of the room and saw the grim figure of Ms. Peak staring down at her. Oh how she would love to get her hands on that hair one day and transform it completely.
She suddenly snapped back from her daydream to the present.
“Sorry”, she replied, “I was miles away”.
“Well, someone is at reception asking if you can take a walk-in appointment”.
Jenny snapped back to reality and the present day. She looked at her watch and grimaced. She had been hoping to get away from the salon early today.
“Who is it?” she asked.
The girl looked down at the slip of paper that she was holding.
“The name I have is a Ms. Peak”.
Jenny paused, stunned for a moment. After all these years could it really be the same person? She had graduated school more than five years ago and she had got a job almost the next day working in a local salon. At last able to do something that she was actually interested in, she worked long and hard to qualify as a hair stylist. Every opportunity to learn still more she grasped with both hands as she sort to improve her hairdressing skills. As well as adding to and refining her talents with the scissors, Jenny had also worked equally hard to experiment with her own hair. At the end of her first day working in hairdressing she willingly put herself in the hands of one of the stylists and uttered what had now become her catchphrase: “Do whatever you want!”.
That day she had left the salon sporting a short bowl cut that rested neatly on the tops of her ears. With each snip of the scissors she felt almost like a weight was being lifted from her as long pieces of her hair fell onto to the cape she was covered by and then to the floor. While it had been something of a shock to lose so much hair all in one cut, it was also thrilling. In fact to her surprise, she found it sexually exciting, and she had to resist the urge to carefully slip a hand into the waist band of her tight jeans. But the biggest pleasure was the first time that electric clippers had been used on her hair. She had seen them used many times to cut men’s hair, but she never thought that they would be used on her hair. She could still feel the firm hand pushing her head forward and the cold bite of the metal teeth of the buzzing clippers as they climbed higher and higher up the back of her head. Jenny could only guess at the effect they were having. Then the stylist flicked the clippers away as they reached the line cut earlier and a large swatch of her hair tumbled down into her lap on the satin cape. Jenny watched as the pile of hair grew higher. The pile of her hair. When the stylist finally showed her the finished cut Jenny gasped in a mixture of pleasure and surprise. A mushroom of hair sat above her ears bounded by a harsh straight line running all the way around her head. Beneath this stark boundary her hair had been clipped down to just stubble. She loved it!
Jenny snapped back to the present. She peered over the shoulder of the receptionist and saw to her delight the drab figure of Ms. Peak sitting quietly in front of the counter. At last, she thought, the time had come to payback her nemesis for all those detentions and sendings home with a letter to her parents.
“No it’s okay – tell her I can fit her in now”, she told the receptionist, “Can you seat her at my station and I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.
She disappeared into the back of the salon to make sure that she was ready for this much anticipated encounter. She stood in front of the full-length mirror critically appraising what she saw. Always on the slim side, Jenny had a very attractive figure that her new found freedom allowed her to exploit to the full. If her skirts had been too shirt while she was at school, they had since ridden to new heights. The skirt she wore today flared from her slim hips to fall to mid-thigh. When she wore jeans or trousers the key word was tight. While with her shoes the principle was always the higher the heel the better. She smoothed out a crease in the skin-tight black latex vest that she wore. Designed to hug every curve of her body she rah her hands over its shiny surface. On top of this was latest in a long line of hairstyles. Cut only that morning she relished the severe lines of the style. She couldn’t resist running her hands over the bristles at her nape left by the work of the clippers. She turned her head from side to side enjoying the stark lines of the flat top she now sported. How she now enjoyed being cropped, enjoyed feeling the clippers pressed firmly against her scalp.
She touched up the crimson lipstick that she was wearing and with a final glance in the mirror walked back into the salon.
Jenny stood behind the seated figure of Ms. Peak wearing her best false welcome smile. She wondered if the woman would remember her.
“Hello, and what are we doing today?” Jenny asked.
Hardly glancing at the young hairdresser, Ms. Peak replied, “I know exactly what I want and here’s what you are to do. Just a slight trim – no more than a quarter of an inch – and then blow dried straight and smooth. Understand?”
Jenny bit her lip at the blunt rudeness of her former teach
“Of course Madam, whatever you say. Right, let’s get you washed. I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Debbie here.
She watched as the young junior escorted Ms. Peak to the back of the salon. This could be interesting she thought to herself. The only question in her mind was just how much she could get away with. Although part of her wanted to take her clippers and reduce that dull and lifeless mop of hair to mere stubble, Jenny knew that would be a step too far. She didn’t want to risk losing her job so it would have to be something more subtle. Standing in front of her styling station Jenny had an idea and moved to another station which they used for training only and had no mirror. Perfect she thought.
Ms. Peak was brought over to the chair and sat before Jenny saying very little.
“Well?” Ms. Peak demanded, “Aren’t you going to get on with it?”
“Sorry” Jenny replied. If only she knew, she thought to herself. Where to start she wondered as she combed through the woman’s damp hair. Picking up her scissors Jenny started to snip away at the ends of the hair in front of the woman’s ear lobe.
“Not too much off” instructed Ms. Peak sharply.
Jenny started to cut a blunt line along the side of her head but she also started to angle the scissors up sharply as she moved along. By the time the scissor reached the back of Ms. Peak’s head they had climbed at a 45 degree angle to level with the very tops of her ears. Checking for evenness, Jenny re-cut the line taking it slightly higher still. She stood back to admire her work. Perfect she thought to herself – one of her all-time favorite looks was starting to take shape. Moving around to the other side, Jenny repeated the process so that the outline of the steeply-inverted bob was now clearly visible.
Although she was tempted to use her clippers to take the hair below the line down to closely-cropped, Jenny knew that it would be too much of a give away and might alert Ms. Peak that something was not right. Picking up her scissors once more Jenny started to crop the hair using the scissor-over-comb technique. While not as quick and simple as clippers, she could still cut the hair very close. Lifting the hair away she pressed her comb flat to the unsuspecting woman’s scalp as her scissors cut more and more hair away from the back of her head. Careful not to let any hair fall forward onto to the cape, Jenny worked her way methodically over the nape, cutting the hair short enough so that skin could be seen. Her scissors worked higher and higher up the back of Ms. Peak’s head until they reached the blunt line she had cut earlier.
Jenny ran her fingers through the newly cropped hairs checking for length. Her training had worked well and she had expertly produced a uniform fine pelt of hair, spiky to the touch and brutally short. Straightening up Jenny moved around to the front of her client, her sights now set firmly on taking radical action with that plain and boring fringe that Ms. Peak had worn for so many years. She glanced down nervously but saw that Ms. Peak was thoroughly engrossed in the well-worn paperback open in front of her.
Jenny combed the fringe straight and then placed her scissors an inch above the woman’s eyebrows. Jenny paused. Given how high she had cut the back she thought, a short fringe was needed to balance the style. A really short fringe. She repositioned her scissors a full 3 inches higher and slowly snipped a stark, blunt line across Ms. Peak’s forehead. Jenny stepped back to look at the harsh line now sitting high up and exposing most of her forehead. Try hiding that she thought to herself.
“Nearly done, I just need to tidy up the edges Madam”, Jenny said.
Picking up a small razor she started to work on the hairline on the back of Ms. Peaks now exposed neck. The razor left a cruel, sharp line further exaggerating the cut that she had earlier performed. Any tiny hairs were quickly shaved away as Jenny neatened and tightened the edges of the new radical haircut. Happy with the final result, Jenny brushed away any loose hairs and bent down to pick up the hand mirror for the moment of truth.
“If you want to just walk over here to the mirror I can show you the finished style”, Jenny said, a cruel smile playing across her lips.
Ms. Peak stood slowly and walked across the salon towards the mirror where Jenny now stood. As she looked into the mirror her hands rose in horror to her hair.
“My hair, my beautiful hair!” she screamed.
Jenny moved behind her holding the hand mirror to show her the severely cropped back of her head.
“What have you done to me?” Ms. Peak wailed.
Jenny smiled, “Don’t you like it?” she asked, trying not to burst out laughing. Revenge was indeed sweet!

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