Don’t Come Home with Hair

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When I was young I only got a haircut once a year, it was usually a number# 1 buzzcut and I was always shaved during the first week of summer vacation. My hair would grow back during the school year and by June when School was ending for the year my blonde hair would be quite shaggy looking.

By late May or early June, my father would start making comments about my hair, “You’re starting to look like a girl, as soon school is done it’s all coming off.”

These comments always ruined my excitement about summer vacation, especially when he would suggest a shorter cut than usual. “Maybe this year you should get a zero cut with no guard to last a little longer”

“Just like the induction haircut I got when I joined the army,” he added.

 

The last few weeks of school went by kind of slowly. I had taken a paper route to make money on my own, one day Mr. Richards an older man that I delivered to greeted me as I was dropping a paper at his front door.

“Hi Jeremy, how are you?”

“Hi Mr. Richards, I’m doing ok.”

“That’s good, it’s very hot today isn’t it?” Mr. Richards added, he always liked to make small talk and it was usually about the weather. He lived alone so I figured that he enjoyed having someone to talk to.

“It is very hot today,” I agreed.

“Are you going to get a buzzcut for the summer again this year?” he added quickly.

Dreading that he was right, I admitted, “Unfortunately I’m sure I will, but if it was up to me I’d rather not.”

He seemed surprised that a boy at that time would rather keep his hair than be buzzed down to stubble by the sadistic local barber.

“Really? I think it looks great on you, and it’s so much more practical for summer.”

“Who usually cuts it for you?” He continued without waiting for a response.

“I usually go to Bernie’s but I hate it there. He always pretends that he thinks I’m a girl when I walk in and then makes a big show about shaving all my hair off.” I said but then wondered to myself why I told him this.

“Oh yes, Bernie can be a bit crass,” Mr. Richards agreed. “Did you know that I used to be a barber before I retired?”

“No, I didn’t know that,” I said trying to get out of this conversation so I could finish delivering the papers and get home in the air conditioning to cool off.

“Yes it’s true, my favorite time of the business was early summer when boys like you came in to have their hair cut off. Unlike Bernie, I tried to make them feel relaxed and not tense about having to get a short buzzcut.”

Then he added, “If you want, I would be happy to cut your hair for you.”

“I’ll let you what happens, but thanks Mr. Richards.” as I was talking I was already heading out of his yard towards the next house.

 

School got out for the summer and I tried to stay out of dad’s way and not be noticed but on the third day of vacation, he realized that I still had long hair.

“So that’s why I haven’t seen you, you’ve been hiding from me just to avoid getting a haircut?” Dad said loudly. The tone of his voice quickly made me realize that this probably wasn’t going to end well for me.

“You need to grow up about this haircut thing and just get a damn haircut like a man,” he said even louder.

During his pause, I could tell he was thinking and getting madder at the same time.

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” he said and strongly emphasized the word you.

“You are going to go get your haircut by yourself, at your age you don’t need your mother to take you to get a haircut,” He stated this very firmly and I knew enough to be quiet and listen.

“I know that you don’t like Bernie and I’m not going to force you to go to him, I honestly don’t care who cuts that hair off but it all has to go. You will get it cut no longer than a number one buzzcut, and.” He paused for some dramatic effect that I had a bad feeling about.

“If you dare come home with any hair longer than number one all over, I will shave off everything that is left and then shave you smooth with a razor. Am I clear?” he asked without expecting an answer, although the last point sunk in quite clearly.

“Finally, if I do have to do that you’re going to learn to shave your head yourself every day, and keep it shaved all summer until the first day of school, then you can start growing it back.”

I was speechless and in complete shock, he let me absorb everything he said for a few seconds then handed me $10. “I’ll even pay for the haircut for wherever you get it cut. Hell, you can even have one of your friends shave it and keep the money.” He turned to have his back towards me and walked away without looking back or saying another word.

I went to my room and sat for a while to think, although there wasn’t much to think about except the logistics of being bald all summer. After finally accepting the fate of my hair I left the house.

Instinctively, I started walking into our town where Bernie’s Barbershop was on the corner of the two busiest streets in town. I thought about all of the reasons that I disliked him and his shop, including his loud voice, obnoxious demeanor, and especially how he called me a girl and laughed with the other loud old guys in the shop, especially when some of them encouraged him.

“Shave him good Bernie, make sure he won’t look like a girl anymore,” One of his buddies yelled.

As I was a couple of shops away, I could see the door was propped open and I could already hear the loud, rude old men laughing, and telling dirty jokes from twenty feet away. My repulsion for him and his friends multiplied. I quickened my pace intending to walk right by but as I passed the doorway Bernie spotted me and yelled.

“Hey, there’s my favorite little girl, are you coming in for a shave?” this, of course, riled up the old men more and they laughed louder, and more obnoxiously than ever.

That was the last straw for me, I gave them all a look of disgust and blurted “I wouldn’t come in that disgusting shop if you paid me,” I started walking quickly to get away from their response which was very loud and rowdy. “If you did I’d shave you smoother than a cue ball,” I heard Bernie yell.

After the adrenaline rush of my remarks to Bernie and his gang wore off, I realized that I still had to get my hair cut off somewhere.

Obviously, I was not going to call my fathers bluff and not get it all cut off, but the next barbershop was at least two miles away. I dreaded the thought of how long it would take me to walk that far, and then I would have to walk back with the sun beating on a freshly shaved head.

I was dreading the long hike when I remembered Mr. Richards and his offer. It wasn’t my ideal answer because he talked so much, and I always thought that he may be gay. Although he never did anything inappropriate toward me it was just a hunch.

 

The walk to Mr. Richard’s house wasn’t far at all and I hesitated for a minute before knocking on his door.

“Jeremy,” he yelled with his usual enthusiasm. “Did I forget to pay you for the paper this week?”

“No Mr. Richards that’s not why I’m here, can I talk to you for a minute?”

His smile turned quizzical “Of course, please come in,” and he opened the door wider and showed me into his kitchen.

“Please sit down, would you like some water or iced tea?”

“No thank you,” I said as I tried to figure out how to start telling him about my predicament.

Starting from the beginning, I told him about my father’s demand for my hair to be cut off short, and the implications if I didn’t comply. He even laughed heartily when I told him about the incident in front of Bernie’s shop.

After listening very patiently he waited to be sure that I was done talking and very calmly spoke.

“Jeremy, I know that you hate having your hair cut short, and a number one buzzcut is a pretty big change compared to how long your hair is now but I don’t see where you have any choice but to go along with your father’s wishes.”

“I agree with that Mr. Richards, what I want to ask you is,” I hesitated on the next question.

“Do you remember when you offered to give me a haircut, well I was wondering if you  could still do it?”

His expression went from serious to lit up with pure joy, “You want me to give you a buzzcut?”

“Yes, please,” I conceded.

As enthusiastic as I’d ever heard him he responded. “That is fantastic! Nothing would make me happier,”

His response was a little excitable and made me a bit nervous.

“Let me get my clippers and try to relax, as I told you when I cut hair there’s no need to be tense.”

I sat nervously for a few minutes before he came back with a small box that he put on the table.

He moved the chair I was sitting in away from the table into the center of the kitchen and pulled a white cape out of the box, it was old-fashioned looking with small stripes.

He snapped the cape around my neck and started running his fingers through my hair slowly and gently massaging my scalp. It seemed strange but felt surprisingly good and very relaxing.

I caught myself enjoying the feeling going through my head and body when he stopped suddenly.

“There that seems to have helped you be a little less tense, now let’s get started.”

He fumbled through the box for what seemed like a long time, then I grew concerned when he moaned.

“Oh dear no, don’t tell me.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked fearing that my luck was about to get worse.

“I seemed to have lost my number one attachment, Jeremy I’m afraid I can’t give you the haircut that you want.”

Trying to find a solution I asked, “What do you have?”

“The smallest I have is a number two, I’m sure your father will notice the difference.”

“Shit,” I yelled loudly and caused him to jump.

“Sorry about the language, but what am I going to do?” I almost begged.

Mr. Richards thought for a few seconds and spoke calmly as he had before.

“Well, your only options are to go to Bernie’s shop if you have to get a number one cut or,” and as my father did earlier Mr. Richards paused for effect.

“Your father instructed you not to come home with any haircut longer than number one, if you want me to cut your hair I could cut it with no guard?”

“What no guard?” I yelled instinctively. I thought about this and quickly realized that there was no way I could go back to Bernie’s shop after the earlier incident. As I was hoping for another option Mr. Richards continued.

“I’m sure that your father wouldn’t object if you got a haircut that was shorter than he instructed, you could even say that you wanted to make sure that he approved.”

I realized that he was right, but I still hesitated to agree to a shorter haircut than I was being forced to get but he continued,

“The difference between number one and no guard is only 1/8 of an inch which is actually very small.”

“Ok, let’s do it,” I said in defeat.

With his smile and enthusiasm back, he plugged in the clippers, used a small brush to clean the cutting end, and turned on the switch. I’m sure that we both jumped when they came to life with a loud buzzing sound.

“Are you ready?” He asked calmly.

“As ready as I’m going to get,” was my honest response.

As he did before, he slowly slid his left hand up the back of my head and held the clippers in his right hand near the center of my forehead. I quickly thought about how his hand felt firm but not rough on my head. At the same time, he slowly pushed my head down towards the clippers and moved the clippers towards my forehead until they met and I felt and heard them start to mow through my hair.

The hair quickly started to fall onto my shoulders when he brought the clippers back to my forehead for another pass across the top and repeated this process until all of the hair on top had been removed. He continued to slowly move my head and the clippers in a slow rhythm while I watched long blonde fall to both sides of my chair.

The vibrating of clippers was sending chills through my whole body and strangely to me, it was stimulating. I had never felt this before while having my head roughly turned and twisted during my brutal shaves at Bernie’s shop.

He finally removed his hand from the back of my head and placed it on the top of my freshly shorn head, I could even feel the heat of his palm on my head because there was no hair left on my scalp. He gently pushed my head slightly to the right and started at my left sideburn and shaved up towards the top, continuing around my ear and towards the back.

My head was then pushed down so my chin was almost touching my chest. With my head down I looked to the sides and saw the floor covered with long blonde hair at its full length it looked like it did when it was attached to my head just a few minutes ago.

The buzzing and vibrating on the back of my head continued to give me a strange stimulation, all the years of short buzzcuts that I despised so much had never made me aroused or feel like this.

Mr. Richards gently raised my chin and pushed my head slightly to my left while he efficiently shaved behind my right ear and around it. He was now standing near the front of my right ear, I don’t know why but I glanced toward him and noticed that he had a slight tent in the front of his pants!

Mr. Richards was also aroused from shaving my hair off. The thought of this surprisingly didn’t bother me as much as It would have earlier, I conceded in my mind that he had given his time to help me and was genuinely nice and compassionate about it.

Finally, he turned the clippers off, put them down on the table looked at me, and smiled.

“You look fantastic, thank you for letting me cut your hair,” he said very sincerely.

He carefully took the cape off me to avoid getting hair on my clothes.

“Thank you for doing it for me,” I said, then after a pause “I am so glad that I didn’t have to go to Bernie’s.”

“Jeremy it was my pleasure doing this, it’s been a long time since I gave a good summer shave, and I remembered how much I enjoy cutting hair,” he added.

Unconsciously I glanced towards his crotch and couldn’t believe while glancing I said, “I’m glad you enjoyed it, I actually did too.”

Embarrassingly he looked down at the floor, and in my embarrassment, I quickly changed the subject,

“Would you like me to clean up this mess?”

“No not all, I offered to cut your hair and I wouldn’t dream of making you clean up,” he replied quickly and firmly.

“At least let me pay you for the haircut,” I said as I offered him my father’s $10 dollar bill.

“Absolutely not!” He insisted. “Jeremy, you are a good hard-working young man, and you always take time to talk to me, so this is the least I can do for you.”

“Thank you very much Mr. Richards I really appreciate it, and if it’s ok I should get going because my father should be home from work by now.”

He agreed and thanked me again before we said goodbye and I headed outside with a freshly shaved head. My head instantly felt cooler and lighter than earlier when it was covered in long thick hair, and since Mr. Rchards didn’t have a mirror I was more than a little shocked when I caught my reflection in a passing window.

As I approached my house I saw my father’s car in the driveway. At the front door, I took a deep breath, got my nerve up, and went into the house, of course, my father was standing in the kitchen by the front door when I entered.

His first expression was of shock, but that turned to a small grin, “That looks good, nice job,” he said acknowledging my compliance with his order.

I just nodded, smiled back and went to my room and looked at myself in a mirror for a few long minutes, and finally started touching my head. My first shock was how little hair was left, and my next observation was that with my hair color being so light no hair was visible and I looked completely bald.

I tried again to understand why I enjoyed this haircut and the feel of it but couldn’t find an answer.

I got some clean clothes and comfortable shorts from my dresser and went to take a hot shower, while the water was running on my bald head I again thought about how the haircut felt.

I couldn’t help myself, so I slowly masturbated.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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