Tom and Gabby Ch. 10 - The Haircut

"That's a relief," Linda adulates. "We'll have to make sure we keep up with cuts. Aside from her 'episodes', Gabrielle seems to have really relaxed and felt comfortable with you doing it. You're clearly a calming presence on her."

"I'm just the one doing the cutting. You two have done all the hard work," the hairdresser responds, giving a final stroke of the clippers before turning them off.

I peel my eyes open just in time to see her picking up one of the brushes from the ledge in front of me, and she begins to dust my neck down with it.

"Just in time Gabrielle. The hairdresser is nearly finished," Linda enthuses, observing as I rouse.

I look into the mirror miserably. I look nothing like the me that I'm used to. At least ninety percent of my hair is gone.

What's left is a sort of shaved pixie cut, absolutely the opposite of anything I would ever choose for myself.

I turn my head left and right, my mouth ajar in shock.

"I'll just run a bit of gel through it for you," the hairdresser says kindly.

"Yes, definitely," Linda answers on my behalf.

The hairdresser moves to the adjacent cutting station and picks up a tub of gel, which she brings over. I watch through the mirror as she scoops some into her fingers and begins working it through my hair, spiking it up slightly. Her efforts make the style look even worse.

"What do you think Tom?" Linda grins, standing up and looking across me at him. "Doesn't she look lovely?" she asks.

"I don't think I've got the words love," Tom answers, instantly alerting me to the fact that he hates it.

"How much do we owe you sweetheart?" he addresses the hairdresser, who smiles widely at him.

"Twenty pounds please," she replies and walks over to the reception desk.

Tom pursues her, after handing something to Linda subtly behind his back.

Linda positions herself directly behind me, admiring herself in the mirror. She callously runs her fingers through her own luxurious long hair, preening it conceitedly.

I want to jump from my seat and tear it out of her head at the roots but know I wouldn't get very far if I tried.

"She's done it just how I wanted Gabrielle," she says, not even granting me the decency of looking at me as she speaks.

"I think next time, we might try going a bit shorter," she taunts, thinking on it. "It'll look even better once the colour's all gone," she adds.

"Speaking of colour, I need to book in to get some more highlights next week. Tom likes me looking my best," she boasts and pulls the wrist strap out from her handbag, summoning me to lift my hand up for her.

Tom strolls back over to us, and I slowly bring my arm up, offering my wrist and appearing to cooperate.

Linda looks at him before fixing me back into it and waits for me to stand.

I don't give them a reason to turn the vibrations up again and pull myself up to my feet.

Linda leads me to the door and after thanking the hairdresser profusely, she pulls me outside.

Tom follows, and as soon as we're out, he retrieves his tobacco tin and rolls one for himself, before sparking it up and inhaling deeply.

"So come on then baby," Linda says, jubilantly. "What do you really think?"

Tom looks at me, tilting his head from side to side.

"You know I haven't got a clue about these things. It's definitely different," he rules, scrutinising my reimaging.

"I'm over the moon with it," Linda enthuses.

"Good," Tom smiles. "The hairdresser gave me her card, for next time. She does home visits apparently," he says, and passes a card to Linda.

Linda accepts it and looks at it. "Definitely. It'd be easier that way," she decides.

"Oh, that reminds me," she says suddenly excited. "I promised my mum I'd send her a picture once it was done."

Tom rolls his eyes, amused.

"Could you maybe take one of us together? To show how different she looks," Linda enquires, pulling her phone from her bag and handing it over to him.

Tom takes the phone from her, and Linda sweeps her long wavy hair over her shoulder, bringing it into view before positioning herself next to me. She brings her arm round my back and pulls us together. I instinctively move away.

Tom is holding the phone up, a metre or so away from us, trying to capture us together.

"Come on Gabrielle," Linda coaxes me. "Say cheese for the camera. Don't you want to show my mum how happy you are about your new haircut?" She says it to provoke me, and I rise to it.

"No, because I'm not fucking happy with it..." I snap back.

"Gabby?" Tom warns.

"It's okay love," Linda mediates. "Gabrielle just needs a bit of motivation."

She rustles through her handbag and pulls the remote to the control pants out. I lunge to try and snatch it from her, but she's too fast, and turns the vibrations on before I can reach it. I double over, grimacing as I feel my clit being intensely stimulated again. Linda presses the remote a few times, and the vibrations heighten. I straighten up, awkwardly.

"That's better," she says, and roughly pulls me towards her by the wrist strap.

"Smile for the camera Gabrielle," she praises, jubilantly, placing herself into different poses beside me. My wrist is pulled up whenever she moves her own arm.

I pull a range of positions myself. All involuntary. And all with my eyes scrunched tightly closed, out of control of my own facial expressions. I assume Tom is taking pictures of us.

After a few minutes, he hands the phone back to Linda. She scrolls through the photos, sounding out gleefully as she admires them. "Thank you, baby," she gushes to Tom, girlishly. "I've already chosen which one I'm sending to mum. I want her to see Gabrielle's new haircut and wrist strap. She's going to love it."

"I'm sure she will," he says and loops an arm round her shoulders. "Come on. We've done what we came to do. Shall we get Gabby home?"

Linda snuggles into him, and they start walking back to the car together, pulling me behind them, with the odd 'come on Gabrielle'. I try to keep up with their pace, slowed by the ongoing vibrations. They dull my sensitivity to the judgmental stares of people, making it so that I barely even notice the gossiped whispering and pointing.

To be continued...