Modus Operandi, or Easier Money (The second part of the Easy Money trilogy) by English Rose and Sean O'Hare
The phone started to ring just as I got indoors after my daily run round the village. Before I answered I breathed in deeply to regain my composure and lifted the receiver. "Elaine Evershed-Smythe speaking," I said. I recognised the voice before she said her name. She was the girl who I had introduced to a shorter hairstyle at yesterday's show.
"Er, hi. This is Cate." Her voice was soft, she spoke as if she didn't want to be heard, but I could hear her clearly and I was delighted that she had called, I had feared she would not. Cate had been the last model to be worked on. Sandra, the owner of the salon organised regular get-togethers, where she advertised for girls with long hair who would like an all-expenses paid haircut. From the moment I saw her I knew that out of the three, Cate was the girl I would like to style, and funnily enough, it was my name that Sandra drew out.
Cate had arrived with long blonde hair, it hung down her back, cascading down until it was almost touching her waist, it looked so desirable against her purple dress. Perfect, I thought. Thanks to my intervention and the use of a pair of scissors, then clippers she left sporting a much shorter, and far more attractive chilli bowl cut. Cate's hair wasn't the first I had cut, but hers was the first that left me with the feeling I could have improved on the style. However my desires were restrained as I was prevented from going further by Sandra, and the presence of so many acquaintances.
I had paid £100 for the pleasure of cutting her hair, though money was not an issue, where this most delightful of pleasures was concerned. My generosity meant that not only was I allowed to assist in the cut, I also got to keep what was removed, and so it was that I was able to make Cate's oh so long, blonde ponytail the latest addition to my collection. In return for me scissoring off her glossy hair Cate had received two £50 notes, on one I had very carefully written my telephone number.
She was not the first girl I had tried this technique on, but it appeared she was to be my first success. First, there was the brown-haired girl, with the long bob in the petrol station, she got a £10 tip for nothing more than being polite. Then there was Sian, the tall blonde-haired checkout girl with the curly hair and swaying ponytail, who carried my shopping bags out to my car and got a £5 tip for her trouble. Of course, each of these notes carried a message: my phone number in the hope that they would call and be "persuaded" into undergoing a radical makeover. Neither one of them called, so in my latest attempt I made sure that I made it more obvious. I could tell that Cate had a spark about her and would be able to work out what was being asked. On questioning Sandra I had found out that Cate was student at the nearby University, and I knew that if there was one thing that would get her attention, it would be money. And that was something I had plenty of.
So before she left I made certain that she saw my number. Her nervous, blue eyes met mine. I saw a look of satisfaction in them and I knew she had seen what I was silently pointing at. I smiled.
Hearing her voice bought back the pleasure of the cut, and before I spoke the images of what I hoped to follow flashed through my mind. "So Cate, what do you think...?" I wondered if she liked her transformation - MY transformation.
A haircut, that's all it was, but I could not believe the difference it had made. I wished that I had given into the temptation of a shorter cut ages ago. I asked myself why hadn't I cut my own hair? Often I had stood in front of the bathroom mirror with scissors in one hand, and my long hair gathered up in anger in the other. It would have been so easy to bring the blades swishing together, their meeting causing my hair to fall away. Perhaps it was fear, of the reaction of my parents to a short style they so hated that prevented me. Wait until they saw me now!
As I sat at the front of the stage, with all eyes on me I couldn't work out how I felt, by the time I got home I'd worked out that I was excited, but I was keen to study the new me up close. Once in my bedroom I dashed for the mirror. I stood and looked at the girl that was reflected back. As I looked I danced, twirling around to see my hair from every angle. The longer hair on top swung and swayed, the shorter hair beneath hardly moved, constrained by moving because of its shortness. It looked great. For the first time in 19 years I had a cut I loved. It was short, very short, and sexy!
My hand moved to my nape. I stroked myself, retracing the path that clippers had made earlier that afternoon. As my fingers gently stroked the soft bristles I swear I could feel each one lift and bounce back. A wave of pleasure rose up inside me, overtook my whole body and consumed me. With no control, I fell onto my bed and was lost to the world.
My housemates first saw me at dinner.
"Cate? It is Cate isn't it?" Ellie questioned me.
"Wow, it's, it's great!" exclaimed Gail.
"Bloody hell, what have you done..." A pause. "It's brilliant!" Julia then got up and ruffled my hair. I laughed as it neatly fell back into place.
I stood in the middle of the room, my short style, with its buzzed neck, contrasting with their long styles. I felt special.
I was pleased that the reaction and approval of my friends reinforced my own feelings, I looked as sexy as I felt, as it felt. That night out at the pub, I enjoyed myself more than I had in ages. My smile showed my pleasure and happiness. On returning to my room I sat in front of the mirror again, naked this time. I lit two candles, to make a more intimate atmosphere. Their reflection flickered in the mirror, the soft light lit my face, and a yellowy glow surrounded my head and new hairstyle like a halo. As my hands touched my nape my breathing quickened and I allowed sighs to escape my body, the thoughts in my head were far from angelic. My hands caressed my neck, my newly clippered neck, then felt the contrast of the longer hair. From my head my hands moved downwards, brushing my breasts, my nipples. My fingers snaked lower, soon meeting the softer, wispy hairs between my legs. "Mmm, I'll have to see to those" I whispered to myself.
My thoughts were full of my hairstyle, I thought back to the hair show; the cut, the salon, the audience, Anna, ginger Beverley, Sandra, Mrs Evershed-Smythe. Mrs Evershed -Smythe, I pictured her in my mind, her upswept blonde hair flecked with grey highlights. My nose was filled again with the smell of her perfume as she worked on my head. I remembered the delicate touch of her hands as she played with my hair, and how her touch changed as she began to cut my hair. Her sun-tanned hands gripped firmly on the clippers as she purposefully pushed them through my hair. Her slender fingers adorned with jewellery and crowned with black nail varnish, became showered with clippings of my blonde hair that twinkled as her hands moved. Finally, I remembered the money. The £50 note.
Then I was rummaging in my bag, looking for my purse. There, rolled up tightly, was another £50 note. Carefully I unrolled it and flopped back on my bed again. There, written along the edge, a phone number, as clear as it was when it was pointed out by my stylist just after she had clipped and shaved me. I decided that first thing tomorrow I would dial it, just to see whose number it was. I already knew though, and as my heart skipped and my tummy fluttered, I smiled and, thinking of Mrs Evershed-Smythe and the clippers, I stroked myself again.
I awoke naked. The first thing I did was to touch my hair - my head. I was relieved that the dreams I had been enjoying were indeed reality.
Finding that I was alone in the house I walked naked into the bathroom, and turned on the shower. Washing my shorter hair for the first time caused such excitement that my body shuddered as I reached orgasm. I picked up a pair of scissors and absent-mindedly toyed with my pubic hair, although sparse it was long. Having enjoyed the sensation of shorter hair on my neck I began to snip away. I clutched a clump of my fair curly hairs between my finger and thumb. The scissors were efficient and as I pulled the hair taut the sharp blades did their worst. Soon the hair on my vulva was closely cropped, around my feet were the wet remains of my blonde bush, darkened by the water. Picking up a razor I lathered up the short hair that remained. I shaved away, slowly and deliberately denuding myself, trimming my pubic hair onto a neat vee. The newly exposed skin was so soft, it shined with a rosy pinkness that proved how aroused I was. The short hair on my pussy felt as good as it did on the nape of my neck. Pleased with my new hairstyle and overcome with excitement I brushed my fingers against my clitoris, with one hand rubbing my nape and the other fingering my slit I came again.
Mrs Evershed-Smythe came into my head again. I pulled a towel from the rack and wrapped it around my wet body and, pausing only to return to my room for the £50 note, I hurried downstairs to the phone.
"I have to say I love it." Cate's enthusiasm for her new style was obvious. This is going to be easy, I thought to myself.
"Good, good, I am glad you like it. I have to agree with what Sandra said, it truly suits you." This was not wholly truthful, I had in mind a style that was far more suitable for young Cate.
"I thought you might like an opportunity to earn a bit more money."
"We can start negotiating at £100, Cate, and this time it's not as a model, not for starters anyway."
£100! I could not believe it, what was this woman on? It was like she had money to give away. I decided to go along with it.
"£100, and I wouldn't be a model?" I asked her.
"Thats right, £100, and that is not for you getting YOUR hair cut," she stressed the 'your'. "We'll talk about it more when you arrive," Mrs Evershed-Smythe went on, telling me how to get to her house.
"If you can get here for 3pm, it would give enough time for everyone to get sorted out before you came."
Everyone? I thought to myself, what can she mean?
"Okay. You want me at 3pm, and I get the money for just turning up?" I just wanted to get this straight, £100 for going out for the afternoon! Easy!
"Well, there is something I want you to do. I am sure you will be excellent at it. I'll tell you more this afternoon," she continued, and then put the phone down.
Shocked by the abrupt end I stood in the hall, and felt cold. During the conversation the towel had slipped to the floor. Realising how silly this scene was I hurried up to my room and got dressed. Funny, I thought, I was sure she was going to offer me money to get my hair cut again, after all she did seem ready and willing to cut more when her friends had shouted "Shorter!"
After the show Sandra had been quite willing to approach Beverley with my proposition, her eagerness strengthened by an extra £50 tip on top of the money I had given her for assuring my win. Beverly's hair had been cut into a bob, which I admitted suited her, but my collection was lacking in glossy ginger and I saw this as a heaven-sent opportunity to acquire a fine specimen.
Sandra was a very thorough businesswoman and knew a good deal when she heard one, she also made sure that her clients were satisfied, and as I was a valuable member of her select clientele, Sandra looked after my desires. Sandra also made sure she knew of the background of her models: Cate, for instance, a student, Beverley, I was interested to learn, was a single mother.
"No problem, Elaine." Our friendship was long-lived, and I allowed Sandra to use my Christian name in private, in public the relationship was much more formal. "Beverley agrees to your proposal, looks like for £50 you shall have what you want." What I wanted was some ginger hair, and in particular, Beverley's ginger hair, which I would have buzzed off, leaving her with the merest hint of a ginger fuzz. Of course I made sure that none of my models knew just how far I wanted to go. In case they did not agree, I said that they would be left with a short crop, but once the clippers were going there was really no stopping them! I was looking forward to the day when I would get to shave a lovely young woman totally bald, so that I would own all their hair. But I would have to wait for the right time and the right place. I already knew who I wanted it to be.
I arranged the finer points of the deal with Sandra, she would arrive at 2pm, along with Beverley. As instructed she would bring all the equipment needed: comb, scissors, clippers. There was no need for the chair, a long time ago I had a room converted into my own private salon, adjoining my bedroom, complete with an old-fashioned, and reassuringly expensive, barber's chair.
Prompt as ever Sandra arrived, with Beverly behind her, looking nervous. I greeted them courteously and handed each a glass of wine. Whilst Beverley sat and thumbed through some hairstyle magazines I chatted to Sandra.
"A slight change of plan, Sandra," I stated
"Yes, I'd like you to train a new stylist for me, give someone else the benefit of your years of experience."
"But, I thought you would like to wield the clippers and shave Beverley?"
"Usually yes, but today something rather interesting has happened." Sandra looked interested so I continued, "I have arranged for someone else to attend, a girl who I would like to gain some clipper experience. You shall teach, and I shall sit and watch you both at work on Beverley."
"Right, whatever," Sandra agreed. "You want me to show her what to do?"
"Yes, show her the proper clipper techniques, but I want to see her do the majority of the cutting. It is important she gets to know the feel of the clippers, and what they can do."
"Is Beverley to have the usual style, Elaine?"
"Yes, I want as much hair as I can. After all, any mistakes can be put down to over-excitement on the trainee's part."
"Very well." Sandra seemed happy with her instructions and went off to talk to Beverley.
I dressed in double-quick time, and although I say so myself I thought I looked rather good. I wore a grey body, in a ribbed material, over the top of which I wore a black shirt, old, slightly faded and too big for me, but comfortable. It went well with my jeans and navy canvas trainers. Styling my hair took no time - another great thing about short hair! I decided to put on some light make up, a pale foundation, "Raspberry shower" eyeshadow, because it had little bits of glitter in it, purple mascara and eyeliner and a plum lipstick. "Gorgeous," I said as I looked in the mirror and hurried out.
A quick walk and a bus journey later, I found myself outside Mrs Evershed-Smythe's house, "Croft Reach." A long drive led to one of the biggest houses I had seen. "Phew, she's loaded!" I spoke aloud.
The walk up the drive took as long as the walk to the bus stop. Once there, I pressed the gold doorbell and waited. Mrs Evershed-Smythe must have been waiting as the door opened almost immediately.
"Good afternoon, Cate, it is good to see you. Did you have any trouble getting here?" Before I could answer I felt her hand on my arm and she led me into one of the rooms of her house.
"Sandra, Beverley," Who? I thought, surely it can't be? "You know Cate don't you?" she turned to smile at me. "Cate, you recognise these two ladies I am sure."
There sitting opposite me was Sandra, the lady who had assisted Mrs Evershed-Smythe, and Beverley, the woman who had chatted to me yesterday. I sat next to Beverley and Sandra left the room.
"Hi," I said.
"Hello, I never thought I'd see you here!" Beverley was quiet when she spoke.
I giggled. "I didn't think I'd see you either, why are you here?"
"Why else? Money! Someone's got to pay for my daughter's new clothes, and it may as well be her ladyship!"
"Yes, her - the Queen of the Barbers. If she wants to offer me £100 just for a haircut, she can pay it! How about you?"
"She said she'll pay me, but she didn't say anything about a haircut!"
Before we could continue, Sandra returned with a bag in hand. Mrs Evershed-Smythe followed and asked us all to follow her. We were led upstairs, through what appeared to be her bedroom into a well-lit room beyond.
"Take a seat Beverley." Mrs Evershed-Smythe beckoned to a big chair in the middle of the room. I recognised it as a barber's chair. Mrs Evershed-Smythe walked across to the other side of the room and faced Beverley, who was now sitting down with a cape around her neck.
"Please proceed Sandra, I am ready."
"Cate!" Mrs Evershed-Smythe called me over to her.
"Cate, now you remember what I said on the phone? Well I want you to watch, then help Sandra with Beverley's haircut."
"What, but I haven't..." again I was not allowed to continue
"Sandra has cut hair for over 20 years, she has looked after my hair excellently, and I trust her to be an excellent teacher for you."
"If you could come over here please Cate, I am ready to start." Sandra called me to her. As I walked over to her I saw her reach into the bag and pull out some clippers.
Sandra handed me the clippers and gave me an encouraging nod.
"I think that the style required will mean you will have to use the clippers, Cate." As Sandra spoke I could see Mrs Evershed-Smythe's face smile.
"I'm sorry Beverley, I didn't know I would be cutting your hair."
"That's OK Cate, I think I might prefer you doing it actually. But not too short. OK?"
"OK, that's enough chatter you two. Cate, please brush Beverley's hair one last time while I prepare the clippers."
I picked up a hairbrush and began to slowly run it through Beverley's hair. I could feel the tension in her but as I continued I felt her relax. As the brush moved so did her head and her eyes started to close. I think that Beverley was beginning to enjoy it as much as I was, I had never felt such a sensation as feeling her warm, glossy hair between my fingers. Mrs Evershed-Smythe had settled into a chair to one side and slightly in front of the barber's chair and had a full view of the proceedings. Her black-nailed fingers held a glass of white wine. She looked equally relaxed, but with a slight smile as if she knew what was about to happen and was looking forward to it.
BZZZZZZZZ! Beverley's eyes opened wide as the noise filled the room. I noticed Mrs Evershed-Smythe's smile widen.
"Just testing," said Sandra as she held a small tube of oil against the blades of the large red clippers. "We need to make sure the clippers are at their best after their hard work on Cate's hair yesterday." All eyes turned to me and I felt myself blush, knowing what my short hair had done for me in the last day.
I continued to brush, hoping to hide my secret from view. I kept my head down and noticed the differing shades from purest ginger through to red emanating from Beverley's beautiful hair.
"OK Cate, that's enough." Sandra interrupted my thoughts.
"You'd better stop soon, otherwise you may brush it all out, and I am sure that Beverley wouldn't want that." Mrs Evershed-Smythe's voice carried over from where she perched.
"Please could you take these and gather Beverley's hair in two bunches, just above her ears." Sandra held out her hand to me.
I nodded as I took one of the rubber bands, parted the hair down the centre from front to nape, pulled the hair on the right hand side into a ponytail as instructed and secured it with band. I repeated the operation on the other side.
Sandra stepped forward and pulled the right-hand tail and pushed the band along the shaft of the hair. "This needs to be firm Cate. Do you see? Try the other side."
I lifted the left hand bunch, pulled tightly while at the same time pushing the band towards the scalp. It must have moved at least half an inch. It felt peculiar to do this - pulling the hair in this way - it was a nice feeling but sort of scary too. "That's firm now." I could see it was - I swear I could see the hair tensed at the roots.
"Yes that's excellent."
I took the two black ribbons she handed me and tied them around each bunch in turn.
"Now Beverley is ready!" Sandra announced.
I took a sip of wine and took in the sight of Beverley, beautiful hair clasped in two ginger ponytails contrasting beautifully with the black ribbons.
It was interesting to watch Cate. I could see she was nervous at first with the hairbrush but soon got into her stride. Seeing her tighten the tail further, I could see was really getting into this. The blush when we talked of her haircut excited me, it confirmed that I that made the right selection with young Cate. She was the perfect choice for what I had in mind.
Perhaps she was a little too casually attired today after the beautiful dress of yesterday. But it suited her young figure well. And her makeup appeared expertly applied and complemented her features perfectly, particularly the sparkling eyeshadow.
It was a pleasure to watch Cate as she stopped brushing and seemed transfixed by the large Oster clippers that Sandra was adjusting. So was I.
"OK Cate I propose to use a Number 4 guard on Beverley's hair. That won't take it too short."
"So will I have a style like Cate's. I rather...."
"No Beverley, that's not for you." Sandra dismissed any opinions Beverley wanted to express and continued with her tutorial, "Now Cate, watch carefully."
I was. Sandra approached Beverley, turned on the clippers and forced them into secured hair behind the ribbon over her right ear. The buzzing sound slowed right down. The clippers coughed and hesitated.
"Oh no..." cried Beverley but again her calls were ignored.
"Do you see Cate. Move the clippers slowly for maximum cutting effect with thick or fastened hair liked this."
And then the speed of the clippers seemed to pick up. Sandra's face showed great concentration as she pushed the clippers slowly but surely through the hair. Then suddenly I watched as the first ginger ponytail fell to the floor.
I picked it up and admired the glossy perfection of the tail, still fastened by the black ribbon. "Mine, I believe, Cate." Mrs Evershed-Smythe held out a hand and I walked over and gave it to her. "Thank you Cate." Her steely grey eyes looked unexpectedly warm as they stared into mine.
"OK Cate, now your turn." I turned around. Sandra had moved to the other side and held out the clippers. I saw that Beverley had shed a few tears. The remaining hair on the right side was a short but untidy bob with some longer ginger strands around her neck. It was a mess, contrasting vividly with the smooth tail erupting from the left side.
I took the clippers. They were large and quite heavy too, but seemed to fit snugly in my hand. I turned them on and felt a vibration surge through my palm, into my hand and through my whole body. I was reminded of yesterday... and managed not to blush.
I felt nervous though as Sandra now held the other ponytail aloft and pointed to its base. I placed the clippers there and began to hear the sound of hair being chewed through. This spurred me on. I was feeling a little excited and started forcing the clippers forward. They almost stopped.
"Slowly Cate, slowly."
I relaxed a little and felt a strange satisfaction as slowly but surely I saw the hair falling away. Finally it was done and I couldn't resist a "Yes!" I felt a little remorse as I heard a little choking noise come from Beverley's throat, but this soon passed as Sandra began talking once more.
"Mrs Evershed-Smythe now has the hair she has paid for but of course we can't leave Beverley like this. So we shall use the clippers to even things up. Now Cate, if you would place the clippers on Beverley's forehead. Just here." I just did as Sandra asked. "And now ease them slowly backwards." I did and I couldn't believe how easily the hair peeled away. The straggly remaining lengths disappeared and were replaced by a uniform half-inch brush of hair. "That's good Cate. Beverley will now have a nice little ginger crewcut."
"A crewcut, but...." Beverley managed a few words but was ignored by all of us. I caught Mrs Evershed-Smythe out of the corner of my eye and could swear she winked at me, her smile almost beaming.
The more I watched her at work, the more I knew Cate would be the one. I didn't know when, but knew it would be her. I couldn't help but smile as I watched her gently peel the remaining long strands from the other girl's head, carefully supporting the back of the head as the clippers did their work. She's a natural.
I continued to pass the clippers over Beverley's head from the front, over the crown, around the curve at the back and down the nape until it was almost all even. I felt quite warm, sort of excited. Parts of me were much warmer than others.
"You can move to the nape and work upwards too. This ensures it is all even," Sandra volunteered.
So I reversed the procedure. Placed the clippers at the nape and pushed up and over. Up and over. Up and... suddenly the smooth movement of the clippers was interrupted as if they had run over a bump in the road but then proceeded with a slightly more urgent tone.
I heard something hit the floor. A piece of plastic. The guard from the clippers? I looked at them and sure enough it had come off, perhaps in my excitement to finish the cut. Then I noticed it had come off while I was cutting and the bare blades of the clippers had cleared a path along the crown of Beverley's hair. There was a pale strip of scalp, barely covered by a ginger stubble, whilst either side the covering of hair was much thicker.
I heard a distinct giggle from Mrs Evershed-Smythe but noted her expression was one of shock, which was soon replaced by a wicked grin. Calmly, Sandra merely said, "Never mind Cate, just even it out to that length." Beverley of course didn't know what this meant. No mirrors were provided for the client in this salon.
I was shocked. There was no more than stubble remaining - a bright ginger stubble. But what else was there to do?
Again and again I passed the clippers over her head. Golden, ginger, russet, a rainbow of red-half inch clippings seemed to be flying everywhere, showering down onto the cape, twinkling as they fell. Eagerly I directed the clippers until her the whole of her pale head clipped close, coloured only by the faintest tint of red. Beverley's hair was now no longer than 2mm long.
I couldn't resist running my hand over her denuded scalp. I expected it to feel like sandpaper, but it felt like velvet. It felt very nice too. Her pale scalp was clearly visible through what was now darker stubble. As I felt her head, my thoughts returned to the shower, and the feeling of rubbing my trimmed pussy hair.
Sandra held up a mirror for Beverley to view her new self. Her eyes widened - made to look wider by the lack of hair. "A little shorter than we expected perhaps, but acceptable I think."
As she looked in the mirror my hand was still resting on her nape. "I'm sorry Beverley. I...."
Her expression slowly changed from shock to almost wonder and her hand joined mine at the nape.
"Wow, that feels so nice. Mmmm. Don't apologise Cate, it's sensational! You're going to be a great stylist I feel." Her eyes twinkled as they met mine in the mirror, she softly caressed my hand causing us both to blush and a familar feeling of tingling warmth spread inside me.
I emptied my glass and felt a warmth inside that did not come merely from the wine. Yes, I think Cate will be the best.
"Cate, come over here please." I handed her the £100 I had promised and handed her one of the golden tails. Perhaps you could look after this for me too.
I took hold of Beverley's hair, hair that half an hour ago adorned her head, I caressed it in my hands feeling its weight, feeling its soft tickle on my palm. For some reason I smelt it, I felt its warmth, and could smell Beverley's perfume, her shampoo and conditioner. Holding her hair by the ribbon I brushed it gently against my cheek and shivered at the sensation
"Do you like it Cate?" she said, gesturing to the ginger hair I held. "Did you like cutting Beverley's hair? Using those clippers to strip her of her hair, slowly revealing her scalp?" Mrs Evershed-Smythe kept bombarding me with questions. "I must say she appeared to be more pleased with her style than I thought she would be, what a shame the guard fell off. Still I think her short style suited her, don't you?"
"Er, yes," I replied, shocked that she allowed me an answer. "I thought she'd be mad at me, she looked like she was going to cry but she said she really liked it."
"I am sure she did Cate. For a first time with the clippers you made an excellent job. I think that anyone who has their hair cut by you will think it is a pleasure" She smiled at me and handed me another glass of wine. "Come over here Cate, and sit down." She patted the settee beside her.
As Cate sat down close to me I felt uncharacteristically nervous. Events were going much as I planned but it seemed almost to good to be true.
She looked straight ahead and sipped her wine. I looked at her long neck, no longer hidden by all that long blonde hair which I had removed the day before. The clipped nape peeped out from under the short bobbed hair with her small, perfect ears exposed to the world.
I tentatively reached a hand to Cate's nape and ran my fingers slowly over her buzzed nape, slipping them under the smooth glossy cap of hair. What I would give to feel a smooth nape, with no hair in the way to diminish the feeling, the sensitivity of skin on skin. Initially she tensed. She continued to stare ahead with the glass of wine at her lips.
I then felt her relax, perhaps pushing her neck into my hand. Her skin felt warm and appeared to be getting a little warmer. Was that a slight blush I could see? Her posture had not changed, but her breathing had quickened. She did not say a word. Her expression appeared to be a strange mixture of fear and pleasure.
"So you like this do you Cate?"
She turned her head quickly to face me, a look of panic on her face. "I, er...."
"Your haircut, Cate. That's what I mean."
"Oh yes. Yes, I do thanks. It's nice. Easy to care for. And, er, sort of sexy if you know what I mean."
"Oh I do Cate, I know exactly what you mean." Nervously, perhaps, Cate downed her glass in one gulp, and I topped it up once more.
"But it's not quite the style I had in mind."
Her fingers on my nape felt electric. I tingled all over but tried not to react. Just sip my wine. But it was difficult. Impossible. But what did she mean, "not the style she had in mind."?
With her other hand - not the one that continued to massage my neck she reached behind her and held up two more crisp £50 notes between two of her black nailed fingers and pushed them into the breast pocket of my faded black shirt. The sensation of her fingers on my breast increased the pleasure I felt... but was trying to hide.
"There Cate," she patted my breast pocket, "that's for you. Now perhaps you care to move to the barber's chair."
"Er, I don't know. I...." My thoughts were confused. I felt excited - very excited - by the touch of Mrs Evershed-Smythe and also by the thought of her attending to my hair once more. What would she like to do to me?
The arm behind me applied some pressure and I felt myself get up, almost in a trance, and allowed myself to be walked towards the barber's chair so recently vacated by Beverley. Her hair, some long strands, but mostly shorter clippings, lay on the floor where they had settled after their brief shower.
I sat down and found myself almost lost in chair - it felt much larger and welcoming than any I had sat in at any other salon.
SNAP! A crisp white cape billowed over me and I felt her fingers tightening it at the nape. I felt in shock - how could I be contemplating a further change to my hairstyle in less than a day - but my emotions were running wild. I was excited, so excited - fuelled in part by my experience of shearing Beverley. Is this what she had in mind for me?
Unbelievable. Cate once again sat before me. No long hair obscuring that beautiful neck this time. And now I could give her the style I wanted.
I brushed her hair through and Cate sighed, or was it a moan of pleasure? I continued and her head moved with the same rhythm as my brushing. Her eyes remained closed.
I placed the hairbrush on the table and selected a pair of scissors and a comb and parted her hair high on the right hand side. I placed the comb just below the parting, inserted the scissors in line with comb and began to slowly snip away the 2-inch cap on that side of her head. I could almost feel Cate's eyes widen but I couldn't resist looking down and staring into her blue eyes.
"Are you OK Cate?"
"I... think so. But what...."
I continued cutting at the same level around the side of Cate's head and then I began to cut diagonally at the back to leave the length the same on the other side. Cate was going to have an asymmetric cut - a neat, short asymmetric cut.
With scissors and comb I graduated the hair at the parting with the short side. I blended the diagonal line of hair at the back with the clipped nape.
I then picked up the clippers and placed a number 1 guard over the blades. "I'm now going to clip away all the hair on this side and around the back Cate. It will be short Cate, very short. Is that OK?"
"I don't know. Won't it look a little odd?"
"Different, Cate. But asymmetric styles are fashionable right now. It'll be fine." I patted her shoulder... and turned on the clippers.
"Well I...." I placed the clippers at her temple and pushed them upwards and smiled to myself with the ease at which her hair fell away. Blonde hair cascaded down the cape and swished as it fell. "Mmmmmmm," Cate let out a long moan. I saw the cape move as her hands altered their position under it.
I was apprehensive but I knew she was in control. She had already cut away half of my lovely hair. What does it look like? What will it look like?
But as her hand patted my shoulder I felt a wave flow through me and I knew it would be OK. A sense of anticipation flooded my mind.
Then I felt the clipper touch my temple and I let out a long moan and my hands, almost without control, moved under the cape and unbuttoned my jeans. I did not care if Mrs Evershed-Smythe had seen this movement, as deep down I wanted her to know what this whole thing was doing to me.
Then I felt the clippers move upwards and watched the fine blonde clippings fall away. My fingers reached into my panties and began to massage. With my fingertips I could feel how warm and wet I was. I moaned once more, and I knew Mrs Evershed-Smythe had heard it.
My eyes were closed but I could almost feel her smile as she quietly said, "Mmmm, that's fine Cate. Just fine!" Whether she was talking about my emerging haircut or my actions I could not tell. And I didn't care!
I continued to clip away all the hair on one side and much of that around the back. It was tempting to do a 'Beverley' on Cate but that's not what I intended today.
Cate was clearly enjoying this experience. Her hands were continuing to move under the cape, faster and faster, while her eyes remained closed.
"Nearly finished clipping Cate. Won't be long now."
I then switched off the clippers and a shudder appeared to course right through young Cate's body. Had she really orgasmed in my chair? The smile on her face seemed to indicate that this was the case!
I had a sip of wine as I readied myself for the next step, allowing Cate to compose herself. I picked up a can and shook it a few times. Cate's eyes slowly opened.
"What are you going to do with that?"
"I am going to shave you Cate." Deliberately I lingered on the word 'shaved', emphasising it and I tried to say it as sensuously as I could. I paused for effect. I couldn't believe it when her hands began their movement once more. "Not all your hair of course. But your hairline and over the ear. Just here." I ran a black fingernail over her temple, to indicate where I intended to use the razor.
"OH! I see. Shaved?"
The rhetorical question floated in the air as I squeezed the container of foam and began to massage it into the areas I planned to shave.
I massaged it much longer than necessary, feeling the stubble on Cate's head tickle my fingers then soften as the foam became more luxuriant. Once more Cate's eyes slowly closed and her smile returned.
I then picked up a razor, placed it an inch or so above the hairline at the temple and began to scrape away. I had never done this before - I had my legs waxed professionally at a salon, so there was no need to shave as regularly as other women did. I had wanted to neaten up a model's neckline at one of Sandra's shows but it was not the thing to do on stage - and to shave a young lady as attractive as Cate was a definite bonus.
As I scraped away the foam her pink young skin was exposed. It appeared to glow.
"Please keep still Cate."
I continued to shave her hairline, high over the ear and down to the hairline at the back, blending it with the clippered hair on the other side.
I wiped away the remaining foam with a towel and took in the completed style. Cate looked wonderful, the newly exposed scalp gleaming under the spotlights.
She seemed to have frozen as I stopped shaving.
"Feel it Cate." One hand, perhaps reluctantly, emerged from under the cape and reached to the back of her head. At the same time I held up a mirror so she could see her new style. Still bobbed high over the ear on one side, and clipped to the bone on the other.
A short gasp emerged from Cate as she saw and felt the style I had chosen for her. There was no mistaking the orgasm that coursed through her body as she took it in. I didn't stare but put down the mirror and placed one hand on Cate's nape until she had relaxed more.
Eventually her eyes opened. We smiled at each other, her somewhat nervously, me knowingly.
"There we are then Cate." I whisked away the cape. "Are you happy with that?"
I watched Cate quickly pull her shirt to cover the top of her jeans. "Er, yes Mrs Evershed-Smythe. I'm very happy."
"I'm so pleased. And it's Elaine from now on."
"OK Elaine. Thank you."
The sensations I had experienced were unbelieveable. The anticipation of the clippers and then the razor. The look and feel of the finished cut.
I got up from the barber's chair and felt a little wobbly. Elaine put her arms around me and led me to the settee once more and placed a glass of wine in my hand.
I gulped half of it while I continue to stare straight ahead.
I then felt a finger lightly running over the shaved skin over my right ear and slowly turned... to meet Elaine's grey eyes staring straight into mine.