My new Mistress Hairdresser IV: More changes
By Robert Towers
When I entered to the salon, that same thick, overpowering atmosphere assaulted my senses. I removed the sweater and returned it to its rightful place with the others, next to the door. Then, attempted to control and smooth my billowing hems against my legs. Well, at least my appearance fit’s right in with the other inhabitants of this pink asylum. Eleanor left me standing there and went ahead, to talk with Alison in hushed tones. I allowed my eyes to dart about the room, furtively glancing at all the activity.
“ Missy Crissie! FIVE MORE MINUTES!” My eyes bugged out of my head and I just about jumped three feet out of my skin! Eleanor was screaming at me from across the salon. “Five more minutes, till Alison can get to you.”
“Right! Ok, thanks!”
It was so amazing inside. I was hit by the smell of perm solution and what smelled like baby powder or something. There was such an amazing charm about the place. It was overwhelming. I took in a deep breath and took in all of my senses. I couldn’t believe I was here and this was really happening to me.
I felt like I was in another world.
“ Missy Crissie, Missy Crissie , wake up!”
Alison was gently shaking my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. I frowned for a minute, but then, well... I’d just been here yesterday, the worst of it had to be over. This would kill some time, I could relax, get pampered again and maybe I could flee in an unguarded moment I did my little one, two rock and got up and out of the seat, smiled and followed toward her station.
“Hi, my Mistress Hairdresser. What’s up?”
She smiled cruelly.
“Hello Missy Crissie, my pet. How are you today? Everything comfy?”
“Yeah, I guess. What are we doing today? I thought we’d pretty much covered all the bases yesterday.”
“Yes I certainly did. And you do look pretty nice this fine day, if I do say so myself. Well, I wondered if I could tighten up the trim of your neck and around your ears, so that it would be more pretty. Didn’t Eleanor mention any of this to you this morning, right? That is surprising. Here, hold on to these.”
She handed my ear rings to me.
“Please, Mistress Hairdresser. My hair is very short now. Surely you won’t cut more!”
I was becoming very uneasy in the chair as she fastened a fresh plastic cape around my neck. The cape ballooned before me, as the crinoline’s volume, again displaced by my positioning in the chair, blossomed above my knees. The cape covered everything now, but clearly, there was an entirely new management system to controlling or at least adapting to this mass of stiff netting, that I needed to learn. But that wasn’t my immediate concern. I mean, yeah, my hairstyle now was more appropriate on a sixty-year-old woman, and yeah, it wasn’t anything I’d ever ask for, but... At least it was a woman’s hairstyle, even if I didn’t like it. God! Please, don’t make me look like a circus clown!
“Put your head forward, Crissie, honey. And keep very still my pet, I’m not using a guard and we don’t want to nick you.”
My Mistress Hairdresser pressed the back of my head forward, forcing my chin against my chest. I sat there in dread. My fear advanced to horror, as the sharp crack of electric clippers behind me, pierced my skull. I felt a hand brace the top of my head. My breathing accelerated with the suspense. Then I felt the unmistakable cold, the harsh, hard, remorseless pressure of vibrating steel against my neck. Tears welled up in my eyes. She pressed into me, again and again. Then she flipped the monster over in her hands and placed the snarling teeth at the back edge of my occipital bone, just at the point where my permed curls had begun their transitional taper. Alison pushed the blades hard against me and dragged it down my neck. I started to sob openly.
“Be still now, pet. You can blubber all you want, but don’t you move your head one bit. I want to get this shaped just right. I just don’t understand why you think you must act like a big baby every time you sit in this seat. Gads, you don’t see your friend acting so childish. I just don’t understand why you must put up such a fuss.I want you to look nice for him, so you should look nice for him. You are mighty lucky to be in a family that is so concerned with your welfare and willing to take the time to help you follow the righteous path. You’d be well advised to show a little more gratitude, if you ask me.”
I tried to look over sideways, without moving my head but my Mistress Hairdresser moved into my field of vision, blocking my view. She was now creating a precise edge all of the way around my head, just below the permed part. The entire area around my ears was completely denuded. She moved to my front and with a flick, the little curls that had previously framed my face at the temples were gone. I continued sobbing, tears traced their way down my cheeks. My body jerked with uncontrollable heaves.
“Pet, you are really trying me!”
The clippers went silent. I sat very still, and I was torn between my intense curiosity as to what Alison would do to her next and the stark fear that my own head would topple from my shoulders if I even flinched for a half second. There was brief rustling and the snap of rubber gloves behind me and then I felt a cool cream being applied to my neck. She spread it out over all my freshly exposed skin, working it around my ears and very carefully massaging it up to the very edge of what little hair it felt like I had left. My Mistress Hairdresser was extremely meticulous in the application. Then as quickly, she finished, moved over toward the counter, stepped on a pedal that lifted the lid of a trash container, peeled each of the rubber gloves from her hands and dropped them in the container. I thought I detected an unusual amount of tingling for a shaving cream. Then it began to warm up. As I contemplated the substance and the increasing heat and discomfort on my neck, the electric clippers again cracked to life. I felt my Mistress Hairdresser begin to pick at the hair on top of my head, with some kind of tool. She seemed to be lifting and separating the tight curls. Oh, NO! She’s going to shave me bald! I gasped and held my breath, completely paralyzed from protest. She did not drive the blade to my scalp. Rather, She just skimmed the carving blades back and forth, closely following the shape, above the small tight, mass of curls, remaining on my head. She trimmed any and all, away that did not conform to the perfect length and form she desired. The clipper fell silent again.
“Ok, that tought to do it. Missy Crissie, you can just stay here in the chair a while, until the dilapitory cream gets done, we don’t want that getting all over the place, so you just keep your hands away from it.
Dilapitory! NO, NO, not my hair! NO! Please NO, Not my hair! Forever! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! I sat there and bawled like a baby. I screamed and Alison said that I could go around like this if I did not calm down.
“What’s all this blubbering? What’s all this about?” Eleanor had suddenly shown up at my station.
“I don’t know, She’s been like this for a while now.”
“Maybe it’s something coming back from her old life. Missy! MISSY Crissie!! Listen to me, girl. You snap out of it right now. MISSY Crissie! Are you listening to me?”
“Wha... sniff... What? Sniff, sob... sniff... yes, sob, sniff, I’m, sniff... listening.”
“I have to go over to mall for some things, now. When you finish up here, with Alison, I want you to go straight home and wait for me in the Kitchen. Can you do that! What! Speak up. Do you hear me? Missy! MISSY! Speak up, girl! I want to hear you answer me!”
“Yes... sniff... yes... I... I will... Eleonor, sniff, I... sniff... hear... you, sniff... I will.”
I sat there sobbing silently now. Oh, my neck burns so bad! Oh, my hair! My hair is ruined forever! Oh, what did I ever do to deserve this? I wasn’t a bad person. They were all wrong. I was just having fun.
Then Eleonor disappeared into the back room and a few minutes later she returned with my green pills and a glass of water.
“What is wrong with you girl? Eleonor said. “You must control your nerves. Take your medicine, missy Crissie. It helps you with that”
By this time I was in tears crying really hard. She popped the pill in my mouth and pressed up the glass against my lips. I took in the liquid and swallowed the green gel caplet.
Alison then said:” Awww you’ll be alright. Soon, you’ll feel better and relaxed”.
After a few moment I quietened and my tears finished.
My Mistress walked behind me and began to massege my shoulders and neck. I began to relax and bask in the attention her beloved Mistress was giving me. I knew Mistress loved me and her interest in my appearance only fortified that love. Otherwise, why would Mistress have spent so much time and money making sure I looked just right? As I became more and more lost in the moment, I was suddenly startled by Mistresses sharp voice in my ear.
She said that I needed an more perfect hairstyle, and then kissed me.
Snapping off her gloves Alison said “All we have to do is wait.”
She handed me a stack of old “Family Circle” magazines and a pair of glasses with chain.
“I don’t need it. I can read without...”
“You don’t be silly with me, pet. A mature woman like you should always wear reading glasses”
I found it impossible to fight the urge to refuse any longer and reluctantly, I wore the glasses.
Then Alison disappeared into the back room.
I grabbed a magazine. This was too unreal. I was actually kind of excited by all of this and I was really starting to get into the moment. My attention drifted back to the magazine. Actually, some of the articles aren’t so bad. The one about how to knit these little cute covers, so you can make coaster thingies out of leftover jelly lids, was pretty neat. Except that, I don’t know how to knit. Then I started finding things that I could do. This was a pretty clever magazine! And I am just feeling so hot! And my head was really tingling a lot. I was even starting to get all squishy in my panties.
I made a half hearted effort to read with my glasses but there was no point. All I could do was read “I must obey Eleanor” and “I love Alison”. The words in the article started to change colors, and captivate my eyes. The more I watched the more excited I became.
The words would dim and then brighten, then change colors and repeat the dimming of all. But while the rest of the words in the articles was dimmed, “I must obey Eleanor” and “I love Alison” glowed brighter and sparkled.
The odor of dilapitory cream reeked and stung my eyes. The smell hit me hard. I felt almost sick and the smell from the cream was making me feel lightheaded. I did not remember much after that.
Later, Alison woke me from my sleep and informed me ‘’it is done. Are we settled down, now?”
“Yes, Mistress Hairdresser”.
“Let’s get this off and finish you up. Head foreword, please.”
Alison pulled another pair of rubber gloves over her hands and picked up a small towel. I leaned into my chest again as she gently wiped the nasty cream away. I saw that there were tiny stubble’s of my hair mixed in with the creamy residue as she cleared it all off. The pores of my denuded skin tingled even more then they had yesterday, if that were even possible. A spontaneous shiver ran up my spine. I guess she was done. She removed and tossed the used gloves into the container, then reached behind my neck to release my cape. I looked at her. She didn’t have that pleased with herself look that she had yesterday. Now she seemed just a little disgusted, as if she had just finished with an ungrateful, unruly child. She nodded with her head, indicating to me, she was finished and I should get up. I remembered to rock, gripped the arms of the chair and pulled myself upright.
I was drawn to the mirror. I had to look at myself. It wasn’t really the astounding difference I had emerged with yesterday. It is still light lavender in color. I am still a poodle. It is more of a refinement, if refinement is actually a word I can use in the same context with this hairstyle. This, this hair, my hair is, is, how can I describe this? My hair, it, it is like a small globe. A perfectly formed globe of, of... it is like a formed texture over the top of my head. It doesn’t appear to have any discernable length at all, it is like a tightly curled blanket, no longer then... but length doesn’t seem an appropriate form of measure. It is more like a compilation of texture, density and thickness. It appears to be about 1-1/2 inches in depth. It is completely immobile. It’s hard to think of it as my hair. It grows from my head, yes, but it rises above me like a foreign ornament, surrounded by a vast expanse of exposed skin. My forehead, the sides, the back of my head, all seems to glow in the parlor lights. It looks incredible. I brought my hand to my head; I had to touch it.
It was bizarre. It was like I had no idea who that was in the mirror. A prim apparition of femininity stared blankly back at me. I had to sit down.
Trance like, I returned to the waiting area. I consciously gathered the volume of my crinoline skirts from my back and sides, moving it before me, gracefully as I could manage before sitting. I sat fairly upright on the edge of the seat and then folded my hands in my lap over the net mass. This seemed to work. This was probably the most lady-like sitting position I had ever assumed since being forced into those embarrassing class recitals in grammar school. It’s funny how those things come back to you at the strangest of times. I found that I still had the white ear disks, clutched in my hand. I reached up and carefully screwed each to my lobes.
I have lost all track of time. I remained perched on the edge of my seat, knees together, unable or unwilling to fully relax. I was again conscious of the tautness of the stockings over the length of my legs. The powerful, unrelenting crush of my girdle, made manifest it’s total dominance over every square inch of my torso. My soft breasts were completely subjugated within the unyielding wired casings that reshaped them into hard bullets, perched high on my chest. The red fabric flower hovered in the edge of my periphery. I absentmindedly reached up to open it’s folds. This sweet rose had been pressed flat as it had hung in that dark closet as if between the pages of a book, waiting to be discovered and now it was free and should be allowed to blossom. Was I too, like that rose? And then I simply sat and waited.
“Pet. Are you ok?”
Someone was touching me, gently was shaking my shoulder. What had happened? What was happening to me? I was on an emotional roller coaster.
It was the soft, calming voice of Alison. I blinked several times, attempting focus, as my gaze lifted to her face. There was a glow about her; yes, she appeared angelic. What is happening to me?
“Are you all right Pet?
I felt my face flush. I am so embarrassed.
“Yes, yeah, yes my Mistress Hairdresser. Yes, I’m fine, thank you, I was just thinking of something”.
She smiled cruelly and said, “Pet, go to home. You need to rest.”
I stood up and said, “Yes my Mistress Hairdresser”.
“Do you have a cap? Didn’t Eleonor give you a cap?”
“No, my Mistress Hairdresser, I just wore this scarf over.”
Motioning again for me to get up, I do and follow her toward the front door, where she stops at a small cardboard display and tears one of the small packages off the face and hands it to me.
“Here, put this on.”
“A plastic rain cap? Why do I need this? It’s not even raining, the sun is still shinning and I do have my scarf... Ma’am, and, ah, I’m under a hairnet?”
“That’s not the point. Put it on. Now go on, get yourself back to Eleonor”
I unfolded the frosted plastic, accordion head cover and carefully lowered it over my head, tying the end straps off, under my chin. Neither of us has much more to say to each other. Clearly, Alison just wants to close up and go home. Me? I don’t know what I’m doing. I guess I’m expected back with Eleonor. A prospect, I find markedly less then thrilling. Nonetheless, I can’t stay here. I smile meekly and headed for the door.
“Thank you, my Mistress Hairdresser. Bye.”