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Submitted on
May 13, 2012
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Mature Content


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Molly - Shaved Headby Lasergun12

Scraps©2012-2014 Lasergun12
Mature Content
Original photo: [link]

This is another deviation of MrsMike with her head shaved, but different than my last one, I managed to give her ears.

The story:
Molly and I make a bet on what will happen on our favorite TV show, and to spice things up, decide that whoever wins gets to give the loser a haircut. Molly loses the bet, but being the classy woman she is, gracefully accepts defeat and gives me her consent to do whatever I want to her hair.
A few days after the game, Molly comes round to my place for her haircut. We have a couple of glasses of wine, a few laughs, then get down to business. First, wanting Molly to be comfortable, I give her a gold leotard and a pair of pantyhose to change into. Gleefully, she adjourns to the bedroom and changes clothes. She returns a minute later, looking fantastic in her leotard.
"How do you feel?" I ask
"Amazing," Molly smiles
"Good. Now come with me."
I lead Molly to the upstairs bathroom, where I've arranged everything. There is a barber's chair in front of a wall-length mirror.
"Sit," I order
Molly sits down in the chair. She makes herself comfortable.
I walk behind Molly, placing my hand on her ponytail.
"Ready?" I ask
"As I'll ever be," Molly replies, with a nervous smile on her face
"Good," I reply
At once, I snip off Molly's ponytail, and hand it to her. She giggles.
"And that's just the beginning," I remind her
I hand Molly a magazine. She smiles, opens it and begins reading. I take out my scissors, and begin to snip off Molly's long blonde locks. She's too engrossed in the magazine to notice her hair being cut off. I snip for about ten minutes, cutting Molly's hair into a blonde pixie-cut, then tap her on the head.
"What do you think?" I ask
Molly leans forward, looking at herself in the mirror.
"Oh," Molly is pleasantly surprised, "I like it. You've cut so much off!"
"You haven't seen anything yet," I informed
I place my hand on her shoulder and bring her back down to the chair. I take out my electric clippers. Molly lets out a nervous gulp. I begin shaving her head; I stop each time to take a picture. First her with a crew-cut, then a buzz-cut, and then a mohawk. Finally, I grip her tightly by the jaw and shave off the mohawk, leaving Molly with a only a faint five o'clock shadow. Then I lather her head up, and run a sharp razor down it, shaving her completely bald.
"Well, what do you think?" I asked
I held a mirror in front of Molly's face, and she sees her shaved head for the first time. She bursts into a fit of laughter.
"Oh my god!" she giggles, "I...I can't believe I let you do that."
She calms herself down, and maintains a straight face.
"I'm glad you're laughing," I commented, "I was afraid you'd get angry."
"Oh no," Molly shook her head, "I knew what I was getting into. Besides, it'll probably grow back soon."
Molly changed back into her clothes, and I escorted her to the front door.
"So, will you keep yourself shaved?" I asked
"Oh, I don't think so," Molly admitted, frankly, "I mean, I did enjoy this little event...and I'm getting a guilty thrill from it right now, but I don't think it would be appropriate for a lady like me to go around with a shaved head."
"Alright," I shrug, "Oh, before you leave..."
I handed her a tub of cream.
"Your head's not used to being bald," I explained, "This moisturizing cream helps shield it against the weather, environment..."
"Thank you," Molly said, taking the cream, "But there's no label?"
"Just apply it to your head for ten minutes every day, all you need to do," I assured
Two weeks later, Molly came by my place, to watch TV. She arrives at my place wearing a hat, her head still shiny bald.
"I figured out what you did," she grinned
"What's that?" I ask, pretending not to know
"That cream you gave me," Molly said, "Last night, when I was checking my head for growth, I realized it was actually hair removal cream. You were going to trick me into staying bald longer than I planned on."
"Oh, you got me," I admitted
"Well, I think just to spite you, I'm going to grow it back thicker and longer," Molly teased
"I don't think you will," I admitted
"Why not?" Molly asked, puzzled
I showed Molly the label that had been on the container of cream.
"Extra-strength hair removal cream," Molly reads, "Designed to kill hair follicles. No growth after two weeks or your money back."
Her jaw drops. It dawns on her that her hair will never grow back.
"Yep," I nodded, "You can try growing it back if you want, but no point honey, you're bald, for good."
For a moment, Molly is mortified, and looks as if she's going to explode with rage. Then she lets out a laugh.
"You got me," she admits, with a cheeky smile
"Not mad?" I asked
"Mad? I'm glad," she admitted, "I now have a legitimate reason to stay bald."
"Excellent," I reply
And in the end, things worked out. Six months later, Molly realized her hair wasn't growing back, so she came round to my house, decided 'in for a penny, in for a pound'. I shaved her armpits, muff, legs, and eyebrows, then covered her from head to toe in hair removal cream, hosed her down, plucked off each one of her eyelashes, and let her bask in the glory of her nude, hairless body.
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