The Cropping
by TC

Jennifer woke to see the sun filtering between the curtains. She tiredly stretches, extending her hands high above he head. She instinctively brings her hands down to run her fingers through her long blonde hair. The phone ringing startles her for a second, but she composes herself to answer it. It’s Tammy, a fun-loving single grl she works with. Tammy said she is having a little get together tonight with 8 or 10 people and invites her over. Jennifer has been in a rut lately, and, maybe, this party is just the ticket. The conversation ends quickly and she hangs up the phone.

Walking to the bathroom, it dawns on her that Tammy said something about a submission game. She knew it couldn’t be anything important, and went about her morning routine. As she stood in front of the mirror brushing her waist length hair, she notices how shiny it is in the sun’s rays. After a day of shopping and lounging, it’s time to go to the party. Tammy said not to blow much makeup on it, but Jennifer is always proud of her looks and spends her usual hour of primming.

Arriving at the party, she spots Tammy by the front door and gives her a hug. There is Mke, from work and his girlfriend. A few more people filter in as te party reaches 10 people. After an hour of Coronas and jello shooters, Jennifer is feeling pretty good. Then, Tammy announces its time for the game to start. Jennifer vaguely remembers the reference to the game during the phone call. Tammy explains the rules, “This is a submission game. Everyone will put their name in the bowl and two will be drawn out. First, the Dominator ad second, the submissive. This is non-sexual and there will be no whips, beatings, etc. If you are the submissive, you will serve your Dominator for the duration of the party, and do whatever the Dominator tells you. Any questions?” Jennifer thought this was a stupid game, but everyone else seemed to like the idea, so she had better go along. The names are put in the hat, and the first one drawn out is Tammy.

“Oh, sure,”Mike says jokingly, “It’s your game!”

“Now that we know the Dominator, lets build the suspense and wait ten minutes to see who will serve my every wish”, Tammy says. Jennifer goes to the bathroom and brushes her hair. When she comes back, Tammy announces it is time. Jennifer crosses her fingers, but to no avail. Tammy smiles devlishly as she shows the group Jennifer’s name on the paper. “First,” Tammy says, “you must wear the ceremonial dog collar and handcuffs.” Jennifer did agree to go along and didn’t want to be a party pooper, so she gets on all fours in front of Tammy. She places the collar around her neck, just a bit tight, and cuffs her. “You like to talk way too much, slave, so I think we had better tape your mouth. I’ll put a hole in it so you may still drink.”

Suddenly, Jennifer feels the sticky duct tape spread over her mouth. Now she is getting nervous. It sees everyone at the party is enjoying this but her. “Now that you are under my control”, Tammy said,” I have to confess to something. When you went to the bathroom, we took out all the names but yours. Mike and I have talked about your “better than us” attitude and how much you are in love with yourself. Stand up, slave”.

Jennifer wants to respond to the allegations but is rendered mute by the tape. She faces Tammy as Mike moves behind her. “You’re gona love this kid”, Tammy says as she strokes Jennifer’s hair. She feels Mike starting to brush her long hair. She always loved being brushed and, for a moment, forgot her predicament. That suddenly changes as she hears the sound of scissors slicing through her hair. She looks down and sees 8 inches of her beautiful mane hit the floor. Tears well up in her eyes, but she is helpless, mostly from fear of the evil look in Tammy’s eyes. She sees everone move behind her, and one by one, each lops off a length of hair. To the shoulders, then she feels the scissors near her ear. Snip! A long tress falls to her shoulder. Now she is in total shock as more of her beautiful mane cascads down her shirt. “Boy, you guys really suck at cutting hair!”, Tammy says. “Sit here, slave, and let me even this up.” Jennifer nervously sits, her knees trembling. What is Tammy going to do? Her answer comes quickly as she hears Tammy snap on the clippers. “Now, how about a nice crewcut?” She feels Tammy place the vibrating clippers to her forehaed, and with a quick motion, mows a path down the middle of her scalp. Another pass and another, her golden locks are reduced to stubble. Jennifer is crying uncontrollably as the group laughs and howls.

When the clippers shut off, Jennifer sits defeated, her hair shorn to 1/4″, the loose pieces sticking to her tears on her face. “Now, slave, for the remainder of the party you will enjoy your new look.” Mike and another man lift her chair and carry her in front of a mirror. There she sits, staring at her milky white scalp.

The party carries on, everyone laughing, the music blaring. But, Jennifer can’t take her eyes off the mirror. The longer she stares, the more she gets used to seeing her shorn hair. She reaches up to feel the stubble, her fingers tickling her still irritated scalp. You know, she thinks to herself, this is kinda nice.