Double Life

Double Life by BladesRule

A long time ago, in a decade called the eighties, I juggled two careers for nearly a year. During the day, I worked as a collections clerk for a large bank, and at night I would change gears and sing with my new wave rock band. I made good money at my day job, and I loved the nightlife of my second “job”, and I found I was able to survive on four or five hours of sleep on the nights I sang with the band. Although the guys in the band knew about my day job, no one at the bank was aware of my other career, and I preferred it that way because I didn’t want any hassle from upper management about it. On a typical day, I would go from wearing a conservative business suit, white pantyhose, and high heels to donning a black and red mini-dress, purple tights, black thigh-high boots, and some wild rock make-up for my stage apparel. We weren’t the greatest band in the world, but we had a lot of fun and I had the time of my life. When I was on stage, I felt like a whole other person, and it was such a rush to sing my heart out every night, so I put everything I had into it.

To enhance my stage appearance, I started wearing some really wild wigs when I sang. This was back when Tina Turner’s hairstyle was all the rage, so I bought a couple wigs like her hair, except they were bright blue and purple. I later added other styles and colors and had a ball with them, and soon I had a wig collection that rivaled those of the girls in the B-52s. Then one night in late 1984, I was watching a Bow Wow Wow video on MTV, with Annabella Lwin, their singer, sporting her lovely trademark mohawk haircut. By that time, our act had become a little stagnant, so I decided it was time to give the band a little spark. One Friday after work, I stopped at the store on the way home to purchase a set of electric hair clippers. I sat at my vanity and brushed my curly brown hair out, dividing it up in sections, and proceeded to shear off the hair on both sides of my head, leaving a four-inch wide patch of hair running from my forehead to the nape of my neck. I’d never done anything this outrageous before, and I found myself feeling really turned on as I buzzed my hair off. When I finished, the sides of my head felt stubbly and bristly, and I just stood before the mirror (still clad in my business suit), and marveled at my new appearance. “They’re gonna flip when they see this,” I thought to myself. I quickly changed into my stage garb, put on my make-up, donned a bright red wig, and headed for the club, feeling really pumped for the show.

Our set that night started off rather sluggishly, and I waited for the right moment to shock everyone. About midway through the set, we launched into Missing Persons’ “Words”, and about halfway through the song, I altered the lyrics from “I think I’ll dye my hair blue” to “I think I’ll get a mohawk,” and whisked off my wig to reveal my new haircut, and the crowd went bonkers. The guys in the band all looked at each other as if to say, “What the–?”, and I heard a few bum notes fly before they regained their composure. From that point on, the set really took off, and we ended up doing three encores that night. Backstage afterward, the guys were all agog over my hair, and we partied ’til the wee hours of the morning.

Over the next few weeks, I dyed my mohawk several different colors, including purple, red, fuschia, black, and green. At one point, I gave myself a multi-colored rainbow mohawk. Meanwhile, I wore a short little curly brown wig to work during the day, and no one at the bank suspected that it was a wig, let alone that a mohawk lurked underneath it. The contrast between my day look and night look was like, well, night and day! One night after a show, I even encountered one of my co-workers, a guy named Jack, and he looked right at me and didn’t even recognize me!

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After a couple months, I got bored with the mohawk, and thought about growing my hair back out. One night though, I went to see another band play at a club, and they had this really cute guitar player who was totally bald. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him throughout the show, and he gave me yet another inspiration–why not shave my head? I began to wonder what I’d look like totally hairless, and the idea appealed to me right away. This was long before Sinead O’Connor came along, and I knew it’d be the ultimate haircut.

I went straight home that night and whipped out the clippers and buzzed off the rest of my hair. It felt so erotic as my hair came off my head. I was terrified of using a razor on my head, so I picked up a bottle of hair remover on the way home, and plastered my head with it. My panties were soaked as I paced around my house in anticipation of my new look. After about 20 minutes, I rinsed the stuff off my head, and gently dried it with a towel. I was amazed at how soft and silky my scalp felt, and I quickly faced the mirror to see my new look. “Oh my God, I did it!” I squealed with delight. I was totally floored by my bald look, and I couldn’t keep my hands off my head.

The next night, I couldn’t wait to sing “Words”, this time with the line “I think I’ll shave my head bald,” and off came my wig, and the place went nuts! The guys in the band were even more stunned this time, and after the song, our bassist, Roger, walked over kissed the top of my head. Night after night, my bald head was a huge hit, and everyone loved it.

I kept my head smooth with hair remover every few days, and continued to wear my curly brown wig to work during the day. One day a few weeks later, I was in our file room at work doing some research when our microfilm librarian, Steven, entered the room to file some things away. Steven and I were friends, but not real close. We both liked the same kind of music, but I never told him about being in the band. He was about 25, very cute, and he was always a gentleman with me. On this particular day, he walked up behind me and suddenly, I felt my wig being tugged at, and before I knew it, Steven pulled my wig completely off my head! I whirled around, stunned, and before I could utter a word, he said, “So it was you I saw at the club last night. I don’t believe it–you really are bald!”

“How’d you know it was me?” I asked, still in shock.

“I could tell by your smile and your eyes,” he replied. “You’re absolutely gorgeous!”

“Gosh,” I blushed, “I’m flattered. But please don’t tell anyone here about this. I don’t want anyone here to know about what I do at night, okay?”

“I understand,” Steven smiled. “What inspired you to shave your head? May I touch it?”

I became uneasy at this point. “Steven, what if someone walks in right now?”

“Relax,” he grinned. “I locked the door behind me.” He raised his hand and gently stroked the top and sides of my head, which had a slight five o’clock shadow on it. “Your head is exquisite– you’re lucky to have such a beautifully-shaped skull.”

I was so flattered by Steven’s remarks. I never expected anyone from outside the club scene to find me attractive without hair. Each time Steven caressed my scalp, I felt a tingle go through my body. I’d always viewed Steven as a friend, but suddenly I felt something come over me as I looked into his eyes. He quickly took me in his arms and we kissed for several moments. His hands on my scalp felt so good as we embraced, and I didn’t want it to end, but someone knocked at the door. I quickly put my wig back on and smiled at Steven and said, “Let’s continue this at my place tonight–7:30 sharp!” A few weeks later, I moved in with Steven and we lived together for almost two years. I remained bald throughout that time, and often let Steven shave my head before we made love, and I loved it.

The band thing, meanwhile, eventually died, but it was fun while it lasted. I went on to sing in other bands over the years, but they weren’t nearly as much fun. I quit my job at the bank, too, and on my last day there, I shocked everyone at lunch time by removing my wig, and I went bald at work the rest of the day. I eventually grew my hair back after Steven and I broke up, but have shaved it off several times over the years. To this day, I still get a rush when my head is freshly shaven, and it’s still the ultimate haircut.



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