Mother of the bride.

This is me, Maggie Smith.

Hi my name is Margaret, my friends and family call me Maggie.
I am 47 years old, married and have two daughters and one grandson.
Tom my husband runs a successful building company and we live a comfortable and happy life.

I don’t work and never have, Tom has always provided for me so my life has been one of a wife, mother and grandmother.
I visit the gym 3 or 4 times a week, I eat healthy and take care of my looks with regular visits to the hair and beauty salon, so even though I am 47 years old I would consider myself to be in great shape.
I am 5ft 8ins in height, my dress size is 12 and I have a very ample DD bust.
My hair is a lovely shade of auburn and I wear it quite long for a woman my age and reaches just past my shoulders. It also has a natural curl to it that gives it a lovely bounce.

Life with Tom is great; he is a great husband and provides for my every need. Well actually that is not true, how can I put this? He is a little predictable in the bedroom. We have sex once or twice a month if I’m lucky and that usually consists of me lying on my back with my legs in the air whilst Tom does his thing quickly followed by him turning over and falling asleep.
I have tried to spice things up with sexy lingerie, talking dirty to him, making suggestions that we try it doggy style but no, I always finish up on my back with my legs in the air.
But I can’t grumble because life is good. I have a wonderful family.
My eldest daughter Susan is married to Dave and they have a son Charlie. My youngest daughter Carol is to be married in 2 days’ time and everything is going well so far.

Thursday. 2 days before the wedding.

I find myself sat in the hair salon talking to my usual stylist Amy; she always does a good job. I have just had a trim and a tidy-up ready for the wedding in 2 days’ time.

“That should see you right for Saturday. Your hair is in really good condition, you will look gorgeous,” said Amy.

“And you’re sure you can pop round to my house on the morning of the wedding to put the finishing touches to me?

“Don’t worry I will be there at 11 o’clock.” Amy reassured me.

“Thanks Amy, I just want it all to be perfect,” I replied. “OH, and I have a lovely fascinator that matches my dress would you be able to fix that in for me?”

“Stop worrying, everything will be fine.”

Friday. 1 day before the wedding.

I had a full day planned but then I got a phone call from my eldest daughter Susan.

“Hi mum, can you help me out. Dave wanted me to take Charlie for his haircut but I’m stuck at work and can’t get away. Can you pick him up from nursery at 12 and take him to the barbers on the precinct?”

“I am busy but if it helps, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Charlie is 3 years old and had never visited a barber shop before, his mum had always cut his hair but now his father wanted him to have a proper haircut for the wedding.

I picked Charlie up from his nursery school at 12 o’clock and drove to the car park on the shopping precinct. As we walked to the barbers, I could see Charlie was nervous, this was a new experience for both him and me. Having two girls I had never set foot in a barbers shop before.

Walking into the barber shop was as alien to me as walking into a beauty salon would have been for my husband Tom. I had seen barber shops on TV and in magazines. I hadn’t even had the urge to glance through the windows of barber shops as I walked by them; they held no interest for me.

The shop looked old fashioned and, in my opinion, could do with a clean and a lick of paint. In the centre of the floor area stood two old fashioned barbers chairs, both of them facing individual wall mirrors. Along the wall underneath the mirrors was a long work surface that looked not unlike a kitchen worktop, this was just full of clutter. Hung from the worktop near to each chair was a set of very large hair clippers, nothing like the small hair trimmers I had seen in the salon being used on women having a short hair style.

Both the barber’s chairs were occupied. Together with Charlie I sat on a long wooden bench on the opposite side of the shop. There was only one other person, an old man waiting in the queue so we shouldn’t be too long. Charlie was very nervous and I could see him looking around at this alien environment he found himself in.

I sat and watched one of the barbers cutting the hair of a man who was in is 30’s and from what I could see was very good looking with collar length dark brown hair.

I eavesdropped on the conversation between the barber and the man.

“Yes, I’ve been working away on the oil rigs and I just haven’t had time for a cut.” the man said.

“So, what do you want then?”

“A high and tight with shaved sides.” replied the man.

The barber placed a paper strip around the man’s neck and then threw a striped cape over him before fastening it around his neck.

Without any further consultation the barber unhooked the clippers from its hook and fired them into action placing the blades at the base of the man’s nape.
The barber pushed the clippers up the man’s nape towards the crown of his head leaving a path of skin in its wake. I watched mesmerised as the barber made pass after pass up the man’s neck and sides of his head around and above his ears. When the clippers finally stopped all that was left was a mop of hair on top of his head which looked silly because the back and sides had been reduced to stubble.
I saw the barber attached something to the clippers and make a start on the hair that still remained. I was fascinated to watch this poor man’s hair reduced to a fine pelt of only quarter inch.

Now I am going to tell you something quite private so please don’t tell anyone. I was getting quite aroused by the little show that was being played out in front of me, so much so that my panties were be becoming quite damp. I had never been aroused by something quite as simple as someone having a haircut.

Once the clippers had finished their work, the barber blended the short hair on top with the nearly non-existent stubble on the back and sides, finally cleaning the lower half of the man’s neck and around his ears with a straight razor.
What a transformation, the man in the chair looked completely different. I wandered what it must feel like to go through such a dramatic change in appearance in such a short space of time.

Meanwhile the old man waiting in front of us in the queue had taken his turn in the other barber’s chair and now it was Charlie’s turn in the seat made vacant by the very handsome man with the very short haircut. I will have to talk Tom into getting such a haircut even though it was very short.

“OK Charlie, it’s your turn to have a nice haircut.” I said.

“No nana, I don’t want my haircut I’m frightened.” pleaded Charlie.

No matter what I said to Charlie he really didn’t want his haircut.

I came up with an idea. I would speak to the barber and show Charlie there was nothing to be worried about.

I sat in the barber’s chair, It felt strange. The chair had white porcelain arms, a leather seat and backrest whilst my feet sat on a large wrought iron foot plate. I felt very vulnerable.

“See Charlie, nanas sat in the chair, it’s nothing to worry about.” I tried to reassure him.

Charlie wasn’t appeased ” No nana, I don’t like that thing,” pointing to the barber’s cape.

I asked the barber “Can you put the cape on me please.”

The barber put a paper strip around my neck then threw the cape around me, covering my body.

” Look Charlie, see nana has that thing on and it’s not hurting her.”

“No nana I don’t like that machine thing” continued Charlie.
.
The barber was now playing along with the game and unhooked the clippers from their hook. With a flick of a switch the clippers buzzed into action. The sound of the clippers being held quite close to my ears was quite disturbing.

“Look Charlie the barber is going to cut nana’s hair.” this was my last throw of the dice to try and convince Charlie.

The barber really was getting involved in the game. He placed the teeth of the clippers on my forehead.

“NOOOOOOO” I screamed.

Too late, the clippers sliced through my beautiful auburn curls leaving a 2-inch-wide strip of 1/4 stubble leading from my forehead to my crown.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” I screamed at the barber.

“But madam told me to cut her hair.” came his reply.

I looked over to Charlie to see if he was upset but on the contrary, Charlie was rolling in fits of laughter.

“Nana looks funny.” cried Charlie.

“Right,” I said to the barber “What are you going to do about this?” I said pointing to my head.

“Well madam has three options.”

“And they are?” I asked.

“You can leave it as it is or you can have a high and tight crew cut.”

“And what is the third option? “I asked hoping that the third option would rescue my hair.

“Shave it all off.” was the barber’s final option.

Oh god, it’s my daughter’ wedding tomorrow, what am I going to do?” I pleaded to anyone who could come up with a sensible solution.

“Leave it to me madam, I will make you look beautiful.” came the barber’s reply.

“This had better work.” I scolded the barber.

I looked over to Charlie again who was clearly enjoying himself jumping up and down laughing. “Ha Ha nana looks funny.”

The barber started up the clippers again and placed the teeth against my forehead slightly to the right of my previously shaved patch. I watched in horror as my lovely hair that I had treasured for so long fell from my scalp and pooled on my lap.
Stroke after stroke the clippers sheared the top of my head moving onto the right side shearing the hair above and around my ear.
I gasped as I saw my right ear as a prominent feature of my head. My hair had always been long and I had never known a time when I didn’t have long hair.
Before long, my left ear joined my right being on show for the entire world to see.
The finished result was I had a1/4-inch auburn fuzz over my head which did not look at all attractive.

The barber appeared to take an attachment from the clippers and again set about my hair, this time starting on my nape. He pushed the clippers up my nape towards the crown and stopped just above the occipital bone. Again, and again the clippers stripped the already short hair away from my nape and the skin around an above my ears leaving just very short stubble. I turned my head slightly to the left so that I could see the right side of my head. I could clearly see the white skin around my ears beneath the very short stubble that remained.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I saw the barber pick up a straight cut razor and begin shaving the skin on my nape and around my ears. The feel of the cold steel of the razor felt unsuspecting wonderful as it striped away what remained of my hair. It felt as if someone was tickling and stoking my neck. I closed my eyes and revealed in the moment. The stroke of the razor felt intimate and intrusive.
This was the moment I learned something new about me, Maggie Smith a 47 years old wife, mother and grandmother.
I was turned on by getting my hair shaved off. I felt powerless to do anything about the situation I was in. I was at the mercy of a man, the barber, he was in control and I could do nothing about it. I felt submissive, weak and feeble and it felt wonderful.
Was it the fact of having my hair shaved or was it that I was submitting to another person’s will and actions. Whichever it was I liked it and I was becoming aroused, my breasts became sensitive as I felt my erect nipples rub against my lace bra, my clitoris swelled and began to ache for Tom.
I wanted to be with Tom, the only man I had ever loved, I wanted him to take control of me, to do what he wished with me, I wanted it to me Tom shaving my head, changing the way I looked and felt about myself.

“There we go madam.” The elderly barber said bringing me back to reality. The elderly barber who took control of me, dominated me and almost made me orgasm in public and in front of my grandson.

The barber unfastened the cape from around my neck and held a small mirror at the back of me so that I could see the back and sides of my head.
I had a covering of short hair on the top of my head no longer than 1/4 of an inch fading into very short stubble that reached down to just above my occipital bone and stopped an inch above the top of my ears, any hair below this point had gone, all that was left was clean white virgin skin.
My only thought in all of this was, ‘thank goodness I have small ears’ the ears that now clearly displayed a pair of pearl earrings.

At this moment in time, I should have been screaming and crying, crying for the loss of my long auburn hair that had once been my pride and joy, but I wasn’t.
I was looking at the reflection of a beautiful, sexy 47-year-old woman, a woman with striking features, a woman who had been hiding behind the mask of hair.
I felt different about myself and I had discovered many new things whilst sat in that innocent barber’s chair.

“Oh, my goodness me Charlie, I almost forgot about you.” I said.
With a little more persuasion and the promise of an ice cream Charlie had his haircut.

Together with Charlie, I walked out of that barber shop a different woman both in appearance and mentality. I knew what I wanted and that was Tom. No more lying on my back with my legs in the air.

As we walked back to the car park, I couldn’t help notice the looks I got from women, some positive, some not but mainly the admiring looks came from men.
Had I found the key to unlock the secret desires of some men?

One shop I did have to visit before taking Charlie home was Claire’s Accessories to buy myself a cheap pair of large hoop earrings.
I stood in front of the shop mirror, removed my respectable pearl earrings and replaced them with the large hoop earrings.
Looking back at me was a very conservatively dressed woman, wearing a white blouse, buttoned almost to the top. a black pleated skirt that covered my knees, black tights and a pair of black kitten heel shoes. It’s no wonder Tom wasn’t interested in sex.
All that was about to change. I needed a new wardrobe.

Arriving back at Susan’s house to drop Charlie off I found Susan in the kitchen washing dishes.

“Hi Susan, Charlie’s had his haircut.”

Susan turned around to face me. “Oh my god,” Susan said dropping a plate on the floor “What have you done?”

“I fancied a change and this is the new me.” I declared.

“Well, it’s certainly different, what will dad say?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care, if he doesn’t like it then tough. I like it and that’s all that matters.” I replied secretly hoping that Tom would like it. What Tom thought mattered to me.

“Well done mum. I like it too, it looks good on you,” said Susan “Where did you get it done, I think I’m ready for a change?”

” A little place in town called Sams.” I replied.

“But that’s the barbers shop.” Susan said.

“Yes, I know,'” I replied “I think I might make it my regular salon”

“Let me know next time you go. I might just come with you and surprise Dave, I’m ready for a change and I have noticed him looking at women with short hair. I will give him something to look at, “said Susan “Can I touch it?”

Without giving me chance to answer Susan reached up to my neck and touched my freshly shaved nape and the stubble on my head. The feel of another person touching my freshly shaved nape was wonderful, even if it was my daughter.

The Friday evening before the wedding.

It was 6pm and Tom was still at work. I phoned his office.

“HI Tom are you coming home, we have a busy day tomorrow?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m on my way now.” he replied.

“I have a surprise for you when you get home.” I rang off before he could ask any questions.

I showered and shaved my body and I mean all of my body, even my bush that had always been there.
This was the new me, a little bit slutty I know but life’s for living.

I dressed in a very sexy black satin and lace corset with matching thong, a pair of very expensive fully fashioned black seamed nylons and a pair of stilettos with a 6-inch heel. Oh, and my new slutty hoop earrings.

I stood in the kitchen waiting for Tom.

“Hello honey, I’m home.” Tom shouted as he came through the front door.

“I’m in the kitchen.”

Tom walked in and dropped his lunch box.

Without another word Tom was all over me like a rash. I ripped his shirt off and unbuckled his trousers as fast as I could. I had never seen Tom like this and I loved it.
Tom lifted me up onto the kitchen worktop with my legs dangling over. He sank to his knees and buried his head into my freshly shaved vagina. I shall have to get used to calling it a pussy if I am to be Tom’s slut.
His tongue licked and explored the folds of my pussy reaching up to my hard and aching clitoris, the tip of his tongue teasing me. All this was new to me and I couldn’t hold it in. My body shook, I let out a scream and released my sweet juices onto Tom’s face.

Tom lifted me off the counter, kissing me. I could smell and taste myself on his lips. He reached up and caressed the shaved skin on my nape, his touch was electrifying. He turned me around and leaned me over the worktop, all the time touching and kissing my nape.

“You look fucking gorgeous, you fucking slut.” he cried.

I had never heard Tom speak like this before but I loved it, I was his fucking slut.
I was his and I would do whatever he wanted me to.
My pussy wanted him so much. I was wet and ready for him.

“Fuck me.” I screamed.

I do hope the neighbours weren’t in the garden because the windows were open and I wasn’t exactly being quiet.

I parted my legs offering myself to him.

Tom slipped inside me. He felt harder and bigger than I had ever known pounding and thrusting me, deeper and deeper, faster and faster. He stopped as I felt his cock pulse releasing his hot sticky cum.

We collapsed onto the kitchen floor exhausted.

“Why did you cut your hair short?” Tom asked “Was it for me?”

“I wanted a change,” was my response “What do you mean was it for you?”

” I thought you had seen my computer and guessed I liked women with short hair.” he said.

“No, I haven’t but show me.” I said.

Tom showed me the sites he visited regularly on the Internet.

YouTube showing women having their haircut and heads shaved. Erotic literature sites and one particular site Hairstorynetwork.

“I have a hair fetishism and always have had for as long as I can remember. I always wanted you to have short hair but was afraid to ask you to cut it short.” he admitted.

I reassured him “Don’t worry, I love my new look and it’s here to stay.”

The Day of the Wedding.

The first thing I did on Saturday morning was to cancel my appointment with Amy, my hair stylist. I wouldn’t need her anymore.

I put on the dress that I had bought for the wedding as it was too late to change plans now. It was a a lovely cream coloured dress with full skirt and looked was perfect for the mother of the bride, it was very conservative and didn’t really go with my new hair.

It was time to show the world, my family and friends my new look.

The vast majority of people approved of my new look, many of my female friends said how brave I was to make such a dramatic change especially before my daughter’s wedding. If only they knew how I had actually come about my new look.
The men on the other had loved it. I could tell by the way they looked at me. They wanted to fuck me.

Tom was as usual very attentive towards me, but the look in his eyes was different. He wanted me.

The wedding went beautifully, it was a perfect day.
Both of my daughters loved my new look and I loved them dearly for it.

My life was going to be different.
I would not grow old as society expected me to. Tom and I were going to grow old disgracefully.

We had found a common interest and embraced it fully.

Perhaps I can talk Tom into coming with me on my next visit to ‘Sams’ The Barbers.