The Barber’s Line: Teenaged Dreams

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I first saw the barber’s line as a teenager. It was very alluring to see those people waiting in line to be shorn like sheep. I wanted to feel his clippers take my springy red curls and then his razor over my scalp and brows. I begged my mother to let me join them. She refused, citing how angry my father would be. Then she dragged me away. Not before the barber winked at me.

I wasn’t allowed at the park after that. I went there anyways. Always on Saturdays to watch the barber. It took me weeks to get up the courage to defy my mother and get in his line. Much to my surprise, the barber shook his head and told me no.

“You want the full experience. Total surrender. Just a little stroke of the clippers won’t satisfy you. I can’t give that to you now though. You’re too young. Come back when you’re 18.”

So, I didn’t return to the park until three years later. Right on my eighteenth birthday. The barber smiled when he saw me in line. Then he yelled for me to strip. And, so, I did as the crowd cheered and took my clothing from me. I was there for total surrender. And I meant it. I had to wait in that line for twenty minutes nude as men and women teased me, both with words and their fingers. They’d pinch me or give me a little spank when I tried to cover myself. They were also teasing me about my impending headshave, pulling at my curls. By the time that I reached the chair, I was wet from the humiliation. The barber stuck a finger in my cunt to assess my wetness. He decided to give me ten smacks across the ass with his broad hands as punishment.

When I finally sat down in the chair, with a sore red ass, the barber knelt and parted my legs. Then he took the clippers to my plush red bush, which made the crowd cheer. Before that, the barber had never shaved a pussy before. Once the bulk was off, he gave it a lather and a careful shave with his safety razor. Much to my surprise, he called over a newly shorn girl, about 20, kneeling over a nearby tree and asked her to test my pussy with her tongue. She crawled over to us with a eager look on her face.

With her smooth head now between my heads, the barber stood up and got his clippers. As she gently worked my pussy with her tongue, he roughly worked my scalp with his clippers, shearing every one of my red curls down to grade zero stubble. He also took a swipe to each of my eyebrows. Little bits of hair stuck to my exposed sweaty skin as they fell. I had my climax, my first climax, when the last of my hair fell.

“Ha! Told you that you needed to be legal for this. Time to finish you up.”

With my new friend laying on my lap, allowing me to stroke her bald head, he lathered me up and slowly shaved me smooth. Not a single hair remained once it met his razor. Then he had me stand, so he could pour water over my body and towel me dry. He touched every newly smooth inch of me. It was absolute Heaven.

My new friend fetched my stuff from the crowd. As I dressed, I thanked the barber for making me wait.

“Go on home, baldie,” he said, rubbing my head affectionately, “Let it grow to your breasts before you come back. Then we will have a nice handle for a train.”

I shivered in anticipation.

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