Holiday Tale

THE HOLIDAY TALE – Jamie Lee

What should I get Eric for Christmas? Like an endless recording it played over and over in her mind. They were blessed as a couple, in many respects. Both were successful in their careers, they made good money. While not rich by any means they were comfortable financially. Most of all, after 10 years, their marriage was still healthy and strong. Time had drawn them closer instead of apart like so many couples. They were more intimate now, than ever before.

This year she wanted to do something very special, something Eric would remember for years to come. What? What could that possibly be?, she wonders. If Eric wanted something new he just bought it. If something broke they replaced it. All of his hobbies and interests were things he had done for years. No opportunity for purchasing new equipment or supplies in these areas. Nothing for the house would do, she wanted a gift for her husband. Traveling was out of the question, they had agreed to stay home for Christmas this year. They had also agreed to a $200.00 price limit.

She went to the mall and wandered around hoping some idea would leap out at her. Leaving the mall more frustrated, by the minute. Today, was the 23rd, she was running out of time. Stopping by the post office on the way home to pick up the mail, her mind a maze of unanswered questions. Throwing the mail on the seat of the truck, she notices a large red stamp on one brown envelope. “Damaged in Handling” it shouted. Digging it out from the rest of the pile, the envelope was crumpled and torn open. Slipping her hand inside she removes the publication. Leaping off the cover was a “BALD WOMAN”. Her mouth dropped open as she examined its cover. It showed a woman with a very long braid, then the woman obviously getting a haircut, then her completely bald with the braid in her hand…

This must belong to another person, she thinks. It was placed in our box by mistake. Flipping the envelope over she is shocked the it is addressed to E. Young at their P.O. Box. The realization hits her like a ton of bricks….This bizarre thing belongs to Eric, my Eric. Her curiosity now peaked, she slowly looks inside. Page after page of bald women, either getting haircuts or before and after photos. Many showing actual razors being used on their heads. Shaving heads??? I’ve never seen anything like this, she confesses to herself…

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“Scalp on the screen”, “Miss Bald U.S.A Contest”, videos, stories, all of it about shaving women bald. “Bald” the word sent a chill through her, my husband likes bald women… Is that possible? Almost finished with her sneak peak, a letter jumps off the page. Her eyes riveted to the words she reads:

Dear Capnstan, Keep up the good work, I look forward to the next issue. My wife knows nothing of my fascination with short/shaved heads. We have been married for 10 years, but I have never found a way to tell her about this fetish. She is very attractive and I love her. How can I possibly tell her of my desire to remove every hair from her lovely head? Any suggestions?

E. Young Grand Prairie, TX.

“Oh my god, a Fetish, What the hell is a fetish?”, she speaks out loud. At home she grabs the dictionary.

fetish also fetich ‘fet-ish 1: an object (as an idol or image) believed to have magical powers (as in curing disease) 2: an object of unreasoning devotion or concern 3: an object whose real or fantasized presence is psychologically necessary for sexual gratification

If the previous few moments had been weird, nothing prepared her for this. She felt like someone had transported her to ‘The Twilight Zone”. The implications were enormous. Her husband had kept a secret from her. I didn’t know we had any secrets, she thinks. So many things were making sense now. When her hair was shorter, Eric always accompanied her to get it cut. She thought it was sweet of him, so many guys detested that sort of thing. Eric never complained just looked through the styling magazines and waited patiently for her. As her hair grew out long, she stopped going to get it cut. At Eric’s suggestion, he had started giving her trims at home. It was always a big production, he lavished attention on her. He would give her a wonderful scalp massage, or an invigorating shampoo. Then comb her hair until every snarl was removed. He cut the ends with absolute perfection, never taking off what she considered to be to much. Frequently, they went straight to the bedroom and made love, very passionate love.

It never seemed unusual before, she had enjoyed the way he pampered her. Now it was clear, he got turned on by cutting her hair. How many times, she pondered, did he just want to cut more and more? I would have been so shocked if he had just cut all my hair off. On the other hand, if he had suggested, she needed several inches removed. Without even questioning she would have let him do it…He had never asked her, at all. I guess that’s what hurts the most. He doesn’t trust me enough to tell me how he really feels. Like a knife, that thought stabbed into her chest, as tears trickled down her cheeks. I don’t want it to be a secret anymore, she sobs.

Eric came home and they had dinner just like usual. Later, they built a fire, and snuggled on the couch. The lights of the tree sparkled, Christmas music played softly in the back ground. Pulling her hair over her shoulder she played with the ends. Eric, do you think I need my hair trimmed?, she asked. Well, I don’t know, let me see… He examined the ends, with his usual care. He determined that, yes, there were a few splits ends. “Would you cut it for me?”, she asked. His dark eyes twinkled and he said “Of course my Love, I am always happy to cut your hair”. You have no idea how short, he thinks to himself.

Going through the usual routine of shampooing and combing. She now finds herself sitting naked on the bar stool, waiting. Should she say anything to him? No, maybe it would be opening up a can of worms that I don’t really want to get into. Seeing him enter the room with a pair of scissors in his hands, she shivers uncontrollably. “Trisha, why didn’t you tell me you were cold?” he chides her. Picking up both her and the barstool, he carries then over by the fire. ” Honey, do you need a robe?” he asks. “No, Eric I need a hug”, she replies. He presses her to his chest wrapping his arms around her. Lingering in that embrace, they both sigh deeply.

Tentatively she questions, “Eric do you like short hair?” The comb presses through her wet hair scratching her middle back. Snip, Snip goes the blades. “Yeah sure, I think on the right woman it is very attractive”, he replies. “Am I one of those women?”, she asks. He stops the trimming and turns her around to face him. “Why do you ask?”, he says.

“They have a lot of new styles at the mall, some very short, some more layered. My hairstyle’s been the same for a long time, I just wondered what you thought about it. I’m not getting any younger, sometimes a woman just needs a change”, she explained.

They are both lost in their own worlds, she fears that she might have said to much. What if he just grabs my hair and chops it off? After all he has a pair of scissors in his hands… He, on the other hand is amazed. Wow, she wants her hair cut. What would she do if I just chopped it all off right now. Sharing a moment of clairvoyance, they are struck breathless at the possibilities. He takes the scissors from his fingers and places then on the mantle. She is relieved. So is he because for the first time, temptation almost overwhelmed him.

“So, this is different Trisha, come back to the couch and let’s discuss it”, he says. Snuggling back into his arms, she says, “Well, I actually thought about shorter hair for the first time in years today”. That was certainly a true statement. “How short, Trish?”, he asks. She feels him against her back getting harder, and harder. ” I don’t know Eric, what do you think?” Trembling at the reality of knowing his thoughts she waited.

It’s now or never, he thinks, I have the perfect opportunity to tell the truth. “I think you would look great with short hair. Please don’t misunderstand, you are beautiful right now. What are you thinking a shoulder length bob or something? I know some women at work have gotten shorter shag type haircuts this summer”, he ventures. “I could do a good job at something along those lines, I think.”

“Eric, I was looking at some thing very short all around the sides and back with maybe this much on top”, she says. He looks at her fingers holding a piece of hair ever so close to her scalp, maybe an inch and 1/2 or less.

Now it was his turn to have his jaw drop open, this was unbelievable. She was talking major haircut… “Oh, I don’t know, it’s just something to think about”, she says.

“Trisha, if you decide to get a new look, please don’t just go off and do it without me,” he says. “If you’re going to get it cut then let me do it, or at least let me go and watch you get it cut. The whole time he is thinking, I would just die if she showed up with all her hair cut short.. “O-Kay sweetie?”, trying not to let his desperation show in his voice. “No problem, darling, I was just thinking about it anyway”, she says. Closing the book on her fears and his fantasies…

Later that night in bed she wonders what do clippers feel like? I have never had a haircut with them. What would it feel like to have the scissors at my ear ? Cutting all my long hair off, working around my head till nothing remains hanging down. The thoughts intrigued her yet scared her. Once it’s cut off there is no quick fix. No way to get it back if she hates it short. Only time, years actually, could undo what a few seconds of contact with the clippers would leave….Shivering again she tried to analyze these feelings. Was it a chill or a thrill that happened every time she thought like this? Slipping her fingers into her panties, she is not all that surprised to find wetness… Somewhere in the night her mind was made up. She would let Eric cut her hair short. She could handle a haircut with scissors, she knew that. It was those clippers that kept popping into her thoughts. She tried very hard to not think about them, however the temptation was relentless. Clippers, clippers where could she get some?

The beauty supply place, I’ll check there first she thought.. Then she realized if you buy them you are consenting to having them used on your head… How short do they cut? I have no idea. The clerk was busy and not particularly friendly. She looked over the boxes, the more professional types were quite expensive. She definitely didn’t want the little $14.99 set like came from Walmart.

On the top shelf something shiny caught her eye, chrome clippers. All shiny and easy to hold, like that made a difference. She would never be holding them… The moment of truth had arrived, should she buy them or not… Her eyes looked over the entire store, all the racks of brushes, curlers, hair bows, scrunchies, clips, and head bands. If she goes through with this wild idea, she would never need any if that stuff ever again. In her heart she knew this would be a one way trip. Once Eric shared his secret with her, she would never have long hair again…

Taking them up to the counter, magically the crowd had dissipated. She could actually have a conversation with the clerk. Bundling up her courage she asked about the clippers. He got them out for her and explained how everything worked. The were good quality, for home use, professionals of course had other needs. Smiling at her, he asked “Who are these for certainly not you with all that beautiful hair?”

“No, they are for my husband”, she was blushing.

“Can I get you anything else?”, he asks.

She says, “Yes, one more thing I was looking for a straight razor”. Chuckling the man pulled one from under the counter, “I hope your husband is ready for a short haircut.” She paid for the items and left the store.

The house was dark, Eric must still be out. She wrapped up the gift and started to work on her plan. Simply opening the presents would not do. Oh no, this must be perfect. She had no idea how much time she had before he came home. Start with the important details first, running up stairs she opens the guest bedroom. They seldom even went upstairs but this room was beautiful. The slanted ceilings, the natural stone fireplace, just like the downstairs but much more intimate. In front of the big mirror in the bathroom she stood, nervously with the straight razor in her hand. Picking up a piece of hair on the lowest part of her nape, she slid the blade through it. It was completely effortless as the razor released the hair from her head. She did it once more on the other side, scarcely breathing from the excitement… Tying each lock with a silver ribbon she pressed them to her lips, kissing them Good-bye.

“Trisha, where are you?”, he called out. Arriving home somewhat late, he hoped she wouldn’t be too upset with him. “Honey” he called again, everything looked normal. Her car was in the garage so he was sure she was home. The light was on in the master bath, maybe she was sick or something. When he opened the door, he got the shock of his life. On the vanity was a piece of her hair, tied with a ribbon. Hands shaking, mind reeling he picks it up. It was over two feet long meaning it was cut off very close to her scalp. He is completely absorbed in stroking its length and admiring its softness.

Oh shit, he thinks, she got her hair cut to surprise me. He felt sick, then noticed the brightly wrapped gift box. Grabbing it he starts going room to room, desperately, searching for her. Please, please don’t let her have short hair, he begs. There on the stair in the foyer, how could he have missed it the first time. Another long lovely lock of hair, a sign beckoning him upstairs. Bounding up the stairs two at a time, he pushes open the door. “Trisha, are you O-Kay?”, he says breathlessly.

“Merry Christmas Eric, I am so glad you’re home, she says. His heart is pounding, as he tries to put the pieces together. Sitting in the middle of the bed, Trisha is radiantly beautiful. She has on a satin teddy with tiny gold roses sewn on the bodice.

“You scared me honey, what’s going on?”, he says.

“Open your presents and find out” she suggests. He pulls off his jacket and sits on the edge of the bed. Slowly relaxing with the knowledge that she is safe. He accepts the glass of champagne she offers. Draining it in one gulp, she gladly refills it. “Open it, Eric”, she pleads.

Ripping slowly at the paper, he finally notices the room. It is a mass of twinkling little lights, he hadn’t even been aware that she had decorated up here. All thoughts slipped from his mind as the picture on the box, came clear. “CLIPPERS” he was speechless. She giggled at his expression. “Would you like to try out your new present?”, she asks timidly.

“Trisha, he whispered, you have no idea what these would do to your hair. You can’t possibly want a hair cut with these. You don’t understand.”

She cut him off in mid-sentence, “Stop talking to me like I am a child or something, No I have never had my hair cut with these but, I think I want to…I think I want you to cut my hair with them.” Her eyes so innocent and child like, glowing with anticipation.

Completely at a lost for words Eric let his natural instincts take over, he leaped on top of her. Filling her mouth with his tongue, her moans and sighs fill the otherwise silent house. Caressing his tongue down her neck past the small hollow at her throat, he buries his face in her breasts. When he could speak he screamed “Oh Trisha, Oh my god, do you know what you are doing to me?” Her answer was to open his fly and gently squeeze his hardness. “Yes, Eric, Yes, I know” Quickly they were engaged in giving each other pleasure with their mouths. She was hot and juicy, he loved the way she tasted. Clean and natural, the scent all her own, it intoxicated him. He thrust his fingers into her, stretching her and sucking softly on her button. She was busy to licking every inch of him and squeezing him tightly. They continued working each other higher and higher. She went first screaming and kicking the bed, he was fast to follow. Then it was over all except for the hard breathing.

He kissed her forehead, waiting patiently for her to come back to him. Her eyes fluttered and then she smiled. “Oh Eric that was great”, she whispers.

“It sure was. Are you serious about the haircut?”, he says hopefully.

“Yes, I am”, she says. The look on his face confirmed her belief, nothing, in the whole world could have made him any happier.

“Well let’s get started”, he says, with enthusiasm. Catching a glimpse of the little boy like quality she loved in Eric, as he opened the box. Unwrapping his new toy, his fingers fondle the cold chrome. He discovers the straight razor shoved inside also. This is wonderful, what a surprise, he thinks. The clippers come to life at his command, happily buzzing. Waiting to do the job they were created for. She listens to the whirling blades, the harsh reality of the moment makes her stomach hurt. Trying so hard to control her emotions, she wants to be brave, but really she is scared. Eric senses her discomfort and shuts them off. Looking at her in the firelight, he knows how lucky he is to have a wonder woman like this in his life. Her petite frame, covered with the luxurious coating of milk chocolate curls. Her big brown eyes look to him for guidance and reassurance.

“Hold me”, she cries, “I am really scared Eric, what if I look bad with short hair?”

“Sshhhhh”, he soothes her, “I will make you look even more beautiful than you do now. Her places her on his lap, stroking her head down on his shoulder. She grasps him, holding on for dear life.

“You don’t have to make me bald do you?” voicing her fears out loud.

“Trisha, what has gotten into you?, he asks.

She confesses the whole story of finding the magazine and reading his letter. “Why didn’t you tell me Eric?”, she pleads.

“I wanted to tell you, Trisha, I really did but, you never had any interest in short hair. Besides I was afraid you would think I was perverted. You don’t have to cut your hair for me. I love you just the way you are”, he smiles.

“Eric I am ready for a haircut, I’m just not ready to be bald,” she says. “No more secrets Eric, please tell me the truth,” she pleads…

“It would be my dream come true to cut your hair, Trisha”, he says.

“Then do it”, she demands.

We will take things slow, he tells her. She nods, unable to speak, her voice would betray the mixed emotions she is feeling. “Where did you cut the pieces from, he says as he searches through her hair. “Oh here they are, two little stubs, all that’s left. Let’s clean these up first”, he suggests. Waiting for a response, she just barely nods. He takes the clippers and pushes the rest of her long tresses aside. The buzz of the clippers roars in her ears, she can never remember feeling so sensitive to sound. He touches them to her nape, a jolt runs down her spine. She tightened her grip around him. So much of her still wants to keep her same familiar look, the long hair.

Starting the clippers in motion up her neck, the blades happily removed every hair they encountered. Licking them along he has soon cleaned up the short stubs, and moved into her longer hair. The first piece slithered down her back and to the floor. With great determination she tries to keep still but cannot. She starts to struggle, he pushes her head back to his shoulder. “Trisha darling relax, I won’t force you. Anytime you say the word , I will stop.” Hearing these words, she goes limp surrendering herself completely to his loving touch. Working his way across her neck more and more hair tumbles away. She is dazed, the vibrations from the clipper hold her in a hypnotic trance. They sensation is incredible, they feel so good against her neck.

Just as it had begun it was over, he shook her slightly. “Feel it Trisha, feel your neck”, he commanded. There under her long hair was a clipper shaved nape. Back and forth went her hand, a moan escaped past her lips. It felt so good, she had no idea tiny short hairs could be so erotic. Now it was his turn to rub them. First he used his hands to stroke his palm across it, then his tongue. Together they explored her new freshly clipped neck. “I’m going to cut off all this long hair, Trisha. I want to be able to find your sexy neck and enjoy it”.

Taking his other present in hand, he opens it cautiously. Twisting all her hair into one long thick bundle, he quickly slices through it without hesitation. It falls away, unable to resist the cold unfeeling steel. She feels the cropped edges brush her cheek. Feeling totally relieved at the speed of its removal. “Good, no time to think or chicken out. What’s done is done”, she resolves. He stares, unbelieving, at her beautiful hair in his hand. He had just sliced 2 feet of hair off with one stroke of the blade. All those trims were nothing compared to the thrill of this. He clutched her severed tresses to his lips, then casually tossed them to the floor.

“How much more do I get Trisha?” he implores. She looks him in the eye, then slides her tongue in his mouth. They sensually explore each other savoring the moment of closeness.

“How much do you want?”, she says.

“Well, how about if I try that style you were talking about,” he ventures

“Great” she says, relieved it was not what she feared most. His request to use that blade on her scalp. He pulls a foot stool over and beckons her to sit. He starts with the famous head massage removing every tension from her body. She is limp when he pauses, tilting her head down. The hair falls around her face, tickling her nose. Picking up her chin length locks he cuts four more inches. Enjoying every slice of the blade, piece after piece hits the floor. Working his way around her head, methodically. Trisha sits staring as lock after lock of hair floats past. “Oh, what have I started”, she thinks. “He’s never going to be satisfied until it’s all gone.” Totally resigned to her future with a shaved head. The whole time he is thinking, this is just the beginning. By spring I will have her in a crew cut, by the first really hot day, her scalp will be mine to kiss, he promises. No more secrets Trisha, No more secrets…

They are sharing what most people could never understand. For him because the love of his life is giving him a dream come true. Something he could never ask for, the fantasy of cutting her beautiful hair. For her because it was a gift of love for her husband, doing this makes her feel so good. “SNAP”, the sound of the clippers takes her breath away.

He starts them by her temple, pushing slowly over her ear. They take away all the bulk, leaving a nice 1/2 inch buzz. Their eyes meet for a second of shared emotion. The essence of love surrounds them, filling the room. He works them up the back of her head rocking them slightly, giving a nice taper to her beautiful neck. She is aware that every sweep cuts more of her hair. However, now it doesn’t matter, she loves the kiss of the clippers. They answer all of her previous questions with erotic sensations. When he has finished with both sides and the back, he takes the razor and just picks up finger sized pieces slicing them off in various lengths. The natural curl in her hair makes up for any lack of precision. Soon nothing longer than 2 inches exists on her head. Finally, he lightly lathers and shaves her neckline into a perfect “V” with the razor.

She is amazed how wonderful and alive she feels. It hadn’t really been a trauma just a perceived one. Her ears, neck, and best of all the back of her head, demand attention. So he puts down the tools and runs his fingers over her head. It feels so different, he thinks, so SEXY. “Trisha you are the short haired beauty of my dreams” he says.

Taking her hand he leads her to the mirror. Afraid to look she turns her head down, blushing. Taking her head in both hands, he holds it up. “Open your eyes, Trisha, look at my beautiful wife in the mirror”, he commands. Hesitantly, she takes a glance, what a surprise. The long hair had imprisoned her in a youthful image. Now she looked elegantly mature and sophisticated. Her fingers ran through it, marveling at the texture. He had really done well, she thought. “Eric, It looks better than I ever imagined”.

He smiles and they return to bed. “Merry Christmas”, he says giving her the small box. Ripping feverishly, she discovers ruby with drop pearl earrings. Perfectly complementing her new look. “They are beautiful, Eric”, she coos. “They dull in comparison to you my love”, he whispers…

HAPPY HOLIDAYS

Written by Jamie Lee 12-95

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