Yes Professor

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Xavier straightened his dinner jacket and pocketed his keys before glancing at the mirror for the final time. As a man in his late thirties, he had a sharp demeanor and ruggedly handsome face, adorned with a pair of black-rimmed spectacles. His hair, an immaculate longish-version of a businessman’s cut, was gelled and set to perfection that made his features sharper than ever.

Out of all his delicious physical attributes, it was those pair of stern eyes that could freeze a student in his or her seat while he lectured the class on Criminal Law. He was unapologetically savage and quintessentially demanding – both as a professor and lover.

Being a workaholic, Xavier hardly indulged in long-term relationships, although he loved to luxuriate in a few scenes of bondage and dominance at Club Emerald. What he didn’t anticipate was the larger-than-life presence of Connor and how his charming personality, would win his heart.

Despite at thirty, Connor bore a delightful boyish look with a full smile, large, expressive eyes and honey-brown hair grazing his neck. The glossy head of hair was too pretty for a boy in fact. He was everything Xavier was not and maybe that is why they say that ‘opposites attract’.

“Smile a little, professor,” Connor teased as they walked into the restaurant. “It’s a date, not a damned college exam.”

Xavier quirked a brow at him. “It is not a carnival, either, given the way you are jumping around.”

The rest of the dinner conversation was light and jovial, with a side dish of romance. As the night rolled on, they decided to go home – together.

“My place, you promised,” Connor reminded him, getting into Xavier’s car.

“It might surprise you, I have an impeccable memory. So, yes, I remember,” the professor quipped as the engine roared to life.

“Good,” Connor grinned. “Then you should remember all the details of that conversation too.” And those details were dark and delicious, laced with dream fantasies and followed by a happy ending.

With the passage of time, Xavier discovered every little detail about Connor – from his rare music collection to his abominable quirky socks. However, except for one little secret that Connor didn’t reveal.

“My phone is charged out. Do you mind if I check my mail from your laptop?” Xavier asked Connor from the bedroom while he was showering.

“Sure go ahead,” came the answer.

Xavier never meant to pry, always being the gentleman as he respected the privacy, but what he discovered was the last thing on earth. The page opened to a hair fetish site where wild fantasies were penned in vivid imagination. In fact, Connor himself wrote a couple of them that involved the role of a ‘professor’. Needlessly, it intrigued him to the core.

At first, Xavier was slightly baffled because Connor, despite his complaints about long hair, always refused to cut them short. And now, the professor was reading exhilarating fantasies of haircut of his lover.

Honest is important in a relationship, and Xavier was about to teach Connor exactly how much, at the same time, fulfilling those decadent dreams.

“Since this is your day off,” Connor said, striding into the bedroom as he toweled his hair. “Do you mind going out for lunch?”

Xavier looked up from the laptop screen and his attention zeroed in on the glossy wet locks, a bit unruly and unkempt as Connor ran absently his fingers through them.

‘That long hair is going to be a thing of the past,’ Xavier thought to him and smiled inwardly. Well, if his boy wanted to have it cut while being chided and submissive, that’s what he was going to do.

“Hello?” Connor snapped his fingers to bring him back from the reverie.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he acquiesced with a rare smile. “I will just run a little errand before lunch. Let’s go.”

* * * * * * * *

It was a beautiful, windy day and Connor enjoyed the gust of air as it tousled his locks and whispered through the strands. The happiness was suddenly halted with the screech of tires as the car pulled up near a shop, with a traditional from the exterior and red, blue and white striped pole.
Connor was frequent in the unisex salon, but he could definitely recognize a barbershop. And for some wild, unknown reason, his heart thumped louder and his hands felt clammy.

“This is a barbershop,” Connor tried to prompt nonchalantly, despite the audible gulp.

“Yes, it is,” Xavier scarcely put forward. He sensed the boy’s nerves, maybe even enjoyed a little as he watching him squirming in his seat.

“Err…didn’t you get a haircut three days ago?” Connor stuttered as he eyed the professor’s slicked and perfect hairdo. Always sharp and professional.

“Oh, yes, I did. We are here for your haircut,” he announced, and Connor felt a dip in his stomach.

“I…no, no, I don’t need a haircut…” His mouth began to feel dry as the words garbled.
Xavier’s hand instantaneously curled around his nape in a firm grip. “Well, I think you do,” he said with such conviction and a baritone so severe, Connor could only gape and gasp.

“But…I…” With a fierce and thorough kiss, Connor was silenced. As the spell broke, he realized what was happening.

“Oh, s**t. You saw it!”

“You have quite an imagination, pretty boy.” Xavier grinned, giving a sharp tug at the hair.

“I…I just…didn’t know how to tell you.”

“And now that I know, I am going to march your sorry ass down to the barbershop and have this shaggy mane of yours cut. And once we are done and back home, I will show you exactly what happens to pretty a boy who fancies long hair and harbor lies. Am I clear?” The deep, rough voice singed through Connor’s body, melting his insides.

“Yes, professor,” Connor whimpered submissively.

“Good.” Xavier let of go his hair. “Because if I hear so much a whine out of your lips, I don’t care if it’s a public place, you will be over my knee and spanked. Now, let’s get this done.”

As they stepped into the shop, the aroma of aftershave and the earthy smell of vetiver welcomed them.

“Hey John,” Xavier greeted the mid-aged barber who was putting a cape around a boy of twelve.

“Professor! Nice to see you. Do you mind waiting for a bit?” the barber asked. “Nick’s under the weather, so I am on my own today.”

“Oh, it’s alright. We don’t mind, John.” The duo took a seat in the waiting chair, beside a man, and Connor guessed it was the father of the child who was currently perched on the barber’s chair.

“Are we doing the same cut, Fredy?” the barber asked the father who gave a sharp approval.
Connor watched the barber readying himself with the tool, a giant professional clipper in hand, and pushed the boy’s head down. Determinedly, he drove the clippers from the base of the nape to the crown in a deft movement and left behind nothing but short stubble in its wake. The clump of hair rolled down miserably while the barber moved on to the next strip until the entire back of the head was satisfactorily shorn. The sides came next, and Connor couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw how high they were skinned.

Shortly, the clippers were given a rest as the barber picked up the scissors and began to lift sections of hair from the top and snipped. The length, what was left of it, was no more than an inch.

The boy forlornly kept staring at the mirror while the scissor-happy barber tapered the hair a bit more to match the sides and back, and then gave him a sharp side parting.
The hair in front was so short that it could not be regarded as a fringe.

Connor was so entranced that the anxiety of sitting on the chair in the next few seconds completely escaped from his mind.

“Next!” the barber’s voice snapped him back to reality as he watched the boy, shorn like a submissive sheep, walk back to his father, wearing an expression of misery.

“What can I do for you professor?” the barber asked once the father-son duo paid and left.

“This is Connor, John,” he introduced, clapping his back. “He would be having his hair cut today.”

“Very well, then. Take a seat, young man.” With that, the barber went to fetch a strip of tissue and a cape.

As Connor gingerly climbed onto the chair, Xavier came up behind him and whispered huskily in his ears, “Sit comfortably while you can because the moment I take you home, I am going to tan your pretty ass.” Connor pursed his lips tightly to prevent the whimper.

“This is your student, professor?” the barber asked conversationally, fixing the tissue and cape, and then moved on to comb the pretty locks.

“Actually, he is,” Xavier fibbed with a smirk. “In fact, he used to be a good boy before he decided to spend an obnoxious amount of time on this unnecessary length of hair. I believe, it requires an urgent rectification.”

“So, what are we doing today? Do you have a style in mind?”

The professor did, in fact. He simply decided to play around. “Eh, I am a little confused,” he muttered, fingering Connor’s hair, who could only squirm.

“A clean medium length and off the collar?” the barber offered. “It will be a big change for him.”

“Tell me, John. What was the haircut you gave to that boy?”

“Oh, that? It was a short version of the little boys’ haircut,” was the reply.
Connor held his breath for what was coming next. But the strange thing was, the raging hard-on between his legs and the growing fear in his heart. The cocktail of emotions has stunned him into silence.

“Alright. Why don’t you give my student a shorter version of that haircut?”

“Shorter than that?” the barber confirmed. “Are you sure?”
Connor bit down his lips and waited.

“Absolutely.” Xavier smiled.

The barber resumed as he sectioned out the top with a rubber band. It was obvious that in a barbershop one wouldn’t find a section-clip or holder. A brief calm descended before the whirring clipper came alive. Naturally, Connor’s head snapped to its direction but a firm hand pushed his head down. The first swipe was a shock, the second was dreadful, and by the third, Connor submitted to the powerful clippers.

His fantasies were coming true, and he was beyond overwhelmed though a little anxious.

From his peripheral vision, he watched the glossy brown mane sliding down to the floor, some on his lap until nothing grazed his collar or neck. The whirring stopped momentarily, and just when he was about to lift up his head, the chair was spun away for the barber’s convenience.

“I can’t remember the last time I had cut such a head of hair,” the barber remarked as he wrenched his head to the side and drove up the clippers, way too high for his liking.
“I am sure he will thank you for this, John,” Xavier quipped with his eyes locked on Connor.
The two men conversed on Connor’s fussy hair and the dire need to make him look like a man while he sat like a pliant kitten. By now, the sides and back were almost skinned.

“Finally, I can start with the haircut,” John commented as Connor scowled internally.

The buzzing noise died as John picked up a shiny scissor and took hold of the small ponytail on top of his head. Schnick, Schnick, Schnick. Even before the sound registered in Connor’s mind, the hank of thick hair was dropped on his lap.

His hair was doused in water, and the barber began to attack the length with clipper over comb. Whispers of hair skimmed down his face sailed down the cape and formed a halo of brown fur around the chair.

As Xavier watched the whole process of ‘little boy’s haircut’ on his lover, he couldn’t believe how aroused he was. Since when did he harbor such a fetish?

The clippers and scissors were finally given a rest as Connor was only left with a small pelt of hair on top. Next came the foam and the ruthless razor. The barber folded down his ears and using short strokes, removed all the traces of hair from an inch above the ears. The back was a little higher, past the occipital bone, and a new and much-higher hairline appeared.

“Is that okay with you, professor?” the barber asked as Xavier could only nod. Connor was about to jump out of the chair, dying to see and feel the shorn head but John stopped him. “I am not done yet!” he chided.

For the final touch, he took some oil between his palms, rubbed vigorously on what was left on Connor and gave him a sharp side-parting.

“Oh, my god,” Connor whispered as his fingers skimmed all over the back and sides, trying to grab something but to no avail. He walked in with a head full of hair not to leave with a haircut so short and so radical that he wondered if all of this was a dream—a sensual, thorough dream.
And it wasn’t.

“Are you okay?” Xavier asked once they got back home post luncheon.

“I am just…overwhelmed,” Connor stammered.

Xavier reached out to feel the shaven sides and back. Smooth, like expensive velvet. “I have to say, I couldn’t take my eyes off you when he was cutting your hair and shaving you. It was so…satisfying.”

It was then Connor beamed and boldly kissed him. “Next time, we are both getting a haircut!”

“We are!” he promised back. “But before that, you are due a spanking!”

“Yes, professor.”

It was probably Connor’s luckiest day. He was face down over his lover’s lap in seconds; his jeans were pooled around the ankles while the smarting throbs of a wooden ruler across his pretty bottom gave him the ultimate rapture of release in his entire life.

Happily so, this was just the beginning.


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