Slippery Slope by Almost

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DISCLAIMER: Fictional story, obviously. I don’t endorse any of this or think it’s good. Wrote it purely for hormy reasons. Hope someone enjoys.
I didn’t realize it until recently. Maybe it was because he was smart and gentle. Maybe it was because I was dumb and didn’t see it coming or drawn lines. Maybe it was because I liked him too much. Maybe it was because I secretly liked it or wanted it. Whatever the case, I think it’s too late.
I think I know where it started. Only a few months into our relationship, he had an innocent request about my hair: get it out of your eyes. I had mid length brown hair I wasn’t particularly attacked to. Yes, as bizarre as it is to think now, it drooped into my eyes. But not for long. I really quite liked him, so I gave in. I got it shorter than usual, to the top of my eye brows. He really liked it. Told me as much. I was fine with it. It was no big change. Maybe I even liked it a little.
When my next cut approached he encouraged me to go even shorter. No clippers, but a very typical, boyish style. Once more, I gave in. I didn’t mind. He gave me a picture to show the barber. The barber quickly chopped it into shape with scissors. My hair was halfway to my eye brows now. Short, choppy. Maybe an three fourths of an inch on the sides. He was overjoyed. Said I looked great. So handsome.
The next time he accompanied me to the barbershop. He just said he wanted to watch. He also requested I go that much shorter. An ivy league. Sides about a half inch and the top about an inch and a half. It wasn’t too much shorter. I let it happen. it was the first time clippers were involved. I was nervous, but he said it was only a little shorter than last time in reality. He also gave the barber some advice about taking the sides higher. I thought nothing of it. He loved this cut so much as well. Said I was adorable. I liked it too. It made things simpler. Which is why it wasn’t a problem when my conditioner went missing.
My heart was full of fear as he spoke directly to the barber and ordered the cut for me only a month later. He told the barber to buzz it.
"Three eights all over for him."
That was about 9mm. Not much. But I didn’t fight it. I let it happen. Let the clippers make my brown hair into brown bristly fluff. Maybe I even enjoyed it. He definitely enjoyed it. He rubbed it whenever he could. Called my fuzzhead all the time. Wouldn’t let me wear hats. My combs disappeared.
We were back in the shop two weeks later. He told the barber a guard wouldn’t be necessary. An induction cut. Ironic since it was the end of my induction. The barber said nothing. He removed the guard and got to work removing my now unwanted fluff. I only had stubble now. Stubble and white scalp. He was infatuated. I was Mr. Sandpaper. I needed no maintenance to be as hot as I was. When we got home, my boyfriend said he had a surprise for me. It was a pair of clippers. He said he was my barber now.
Only then when all I had was stubble did it cross my mind I might have lost something. But as I stared in the mirror, I liked what I saw. It was low maintenance and my boyfriend loved it. I looked sexy and confident.
A week later, as I woke up I saw a chair in the bathroom with my boyfriend behind it. I took a seat. Without a word he began to erase what little growth I had. It didn’t take long. I was sandpaper scalped again. I felt a pang of pride in it. Then, he spread shaving cream over my entire head. The razor scratched softly against my scalp, peeling away stubble. He worked at that until I had nothing. I was now truly bare. My scalp was white and silent. He said I looked perfect. I agreed.
That night I watched my boyfriend throw my shampoo in the trash. I was staying like this I guess. If there was any hope of growing my hair back out, it was now gone. I was his bald boyfriend.

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