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@Yes, mother – I've caught another one", by Thebarbered1


Nice to be back after having been offline a little while. I've recently been sent a couple of stories by someone I know. They weren't written by him, or by myself, and he said came from another forum. I'm not sure which. Anyway, here's one of them. I've not changed it, except for making a few corrections to grammar and wording, and I've added a tiny bit at the end to round it off. While hoping you enjoy it, if anyone here is the writer of this story, or knows where it came from, I do apologise….

"Yes, mother – I've caught another one",

As he walked down the street, the idea of going for a haircut was perhaps the last thing on David's mind. Haircuts were something that he grudgingly accepted he needed every now and then, but they were not something that he really looked forward to or enjoyed. As he walked past each of the shop fronts, he would glance inside briefly, not looking for anything really – just gazing. Suddenly. he was brought to an abrupt halt. Through the window of this one particular shop, he could see her. He had no idea who she was, but he knew that he wanted to find out more.
She was small, maybe only five feet one or two inches tall. She was startlingly pretty, and her petite figure was perhaps the most attractive he'd seen for a long time. Her slim legs were largely exposed by the short skirt she had on, the pleats of it swirling temptingly around her thighs as she moved. Her firm and pert breasts were clearly outlined by the tight-fitting black shiny top she wore. He wasn't sure but he guessed that it was made out of maybe plastic or even latex. She'd clearly spent time and care in putting on her make-up - not too much, but not too little either - just enough to perfectly outline and accentuate her delicate features. But perhaps most of all, his eyes were drawn to her hair. It was jet black in colour, and had been styled (cut was too simple a word for it) by a very skilled hand. It was not that short in length, but around her ears and either electric clippers or a razor had been used to take her hair sharply back to the hairline leaving a stark line. The same skilled hand had also been at work around the back of her head where the hair was severely tapered to lie close to her scalp. While at her nape, the cut was so blunt as to look almost as if a ruler had been used, and so precise was the line that had been cut, it was almost a man's haircut on a young girl - so making it even more of a style statement.
David had been so taken by this pocket vision he saw through the window, that he'd completely failed to notice what kind of shop it was. Eventually, it dawned on him, and with some surprise, that it was a hair salon. Although barber shop would have been a more accurate description, as there was only a single chair and he could only see clippers and razors, rather than dryers and perm rods etc. As he stood looking through the shop window, he suddenly realised that she was looking at him. No…. she was more than looking at him, she was actually smiling at him. As he smiled back, she raised her hand and beckoned towards him. David paused, unsure whether he was the intended recipient of this attention after all or whether it was in fact meant for someone else who may have been standing nearby. He glanced quickly behind to see whether he was indeed the intended recipient of her friendliness. Before he had a chance to wonder anymore, the girl appeared at the door, still smiling enticingly at him.
"Are you coming in then"? she asked suggestively.
He paused, feeling unsure what to do next. Close up she was even prettier than he had first thought and her haircut was even more severe. There was not a trace of stubble at her hairline leading him to conclude that she must have had it cut very recently.
"Don't worry I'm not going to hurt you", she almost purred, as she took his arm gently with her manicured hand and drew him inside.
Not quite sure why, David allowed himself to be lead obediently towards the imposing figure, which was the large chair which dominated the interior. The combination of black leather and shiny silver chrome started to make him feel somewhat nervous and his throat feel dry. All he had to do was say he didn't have time or something, and that would be that. He would be free. But being this close to her firm young body, he could smell the delicate scent that she wore. "Just a trim maybe”, he thought, "how bad could it be?” … and of course he would get to spend more time in the company of this delightful young woman.
He took off his jacket, hung it up on the hook on the wall, and then allowed himself to be coaxed into the firm embrace of the old-fashioned barber's chair. He felt his body sink slightly into the seat. He gazed at his own image in the large gilt-edged mirror that hung on the wall in front of him, and he caught a glimpse of the slight grin on his face. Was it a smile of pleasure of being with this startlingly pretty girl, or was it the nervous smile of someone dreading what might be about to happen next? She turned away briefly and his eyes hungrily took in the reflected image of that brief skirt floating around her firm legs as she moved, her turn causing the hem to raise slightly higher and so expose more of her long, long legs.
He heard a faint rustling behind himself and then with a flourish, she covered David with a large black cape. He was expecting some light, silky garment to be placed over him, but this cape felt much more substantial – oppressive even - and he was now trapped under its unexpected weight. It seemed to be made of some rubber like material, although it seemed to almost cling to his body, reinforcing the firm grip of the chair upon his frame. Before closing it, she tucked a tissue around the back of his neck, and then closed it firmly. He'd been expecting snappers, a drawing together of a strip of fabric or perhaps the rasp of Velcro, but instead, she closed it with a thick leather strap attached to the back. She pulled the strap firmly and then secured it with a metal buckle. This was unlike any hair cape that he had worn before.
The girl turned away once more and then returned with a second cape. Lighter than the first in weight, it was white in colour, with narrow blue pinstripes. Once again with a flourish, she covered David - and the black cape underneath. This one, she did close by snapping it together, three times, one after the other.
She stood behind him with a strange smile on her face, raking her blood red nails through his hair. "I won't be a moment", she murmured and then disappeared into the back of the shop. David was left gazing at his own figure trapped in the barber's chair . For some reason he seemed to look smaller, almost like a young boy, as if placing the cape over him had turned back the years. "Never mind” he told himself, " just a brief trim and I'll be out of here”. Although he did hope a little, perhaps he could think of some way of prolonging the haircut so that he could spend the maximum amount of time in the company of this young vision.
The young girl re-entered the room and looked at him in the mirror. She paused, and blew him a kiss - but then, to his surprise, walked to the waiting chairs against the back wall and sat down. She crossed her long legs, retrieved a magazine and started to read. David was confused. This wasn't what normally happened when he'd been for a haircut before. He gazed at himself in the mirror once again, before, after a few moments, a door to the side opened and a second person entered .
David guessed that she must have been at least fifty years old, perhaps even closer to sixty. She cut an imposing figure, as not only must she have been at least five feet ten inches tall, but she was also a large well built woman. David didn't know that much about female dress sizes but he imagined that she would a plus size, maybe even a plus plus size. The most striking feature of this woman however, was her steel grey hair. It was the first time that he had seen such a short hairstyle on a woman. You could only describe it as a classic short, back and sides. The sort of style you might expect to see on a young boy.
"Is he ready?", she asked.
David went to answer but then realised that the old woman was talking to the young girl. "Yes, mother – I've caught another one", she giggled before returning to her magazine. The woman retrieved a comb from the shelf in front of David and began to drag it firmly through his slightly grown out, but what had previously been, expensively styled hair. As she did this, she was almost sneering at the length of it. "I'd like just a trim please", he said quietly and slightly nervously.
Not appearing to respond to this, she commanded brusquely "Head down”. Reluctantly, David dipped his head forward, but this was obviously not far enough for her liking, as a cold hand was suddenly applied to the back of his head, forcing his chin down into the material of the cape. All he could now see were his feet dangling above the shiny floor in front of him. There was then a long pause and he wondered what was going on. The silence was finally broken by a harsh buzzing noise behind him and then the sensation of something hard and cold being pushed against the base of his neck. Straining to look up he glimpsed a swinging electrical cord in the mirror – clippers! But his head was pushed back down again.
"Keep still!" she barked at him.
David started to worry as he saw clumps of hair – his hair – begin to rain down noiselessly on to the floor around him. He tried to imagine how much hair was being stripped from the back of his head as the clippers climbed higher and higher and higher still.
"I don't want it too short" he gasped quietly. He may have been wrong, but the only effect of these words seemed to be an increase in the speed of the clippers. Again and again, they vigourously ploughed their deep furrow across his scalp, yet more hair falling to the floor.
Suddenly the pressure on the back of his head was gone. He went to straighten his neck in order to see what damage had been inflicted upon his hair. However, before he had a chance to look properly, his head was moved roughly to one side. The clippers burst back into life once more, and he felt their cruel blades start to bite into the hair on the right side of his head. Once more, little mercy was shown as the hair was peeled rapidly and efficiently from his head. David was somewhat in shock at the speed at which all of this was happening and the speed at which his hair was falling on to the white cape in front of him and on to the floor.
Suddenly, he felt his head yanked over to lean the other way and the process was repeated on the left side of his head. At this point, he thought he heard the soft sound of the young girl chuckle, but maybe, just maybe, he was mistaken.
Once more, the clippers were switched off and his head brought sharply upright. He glanced quickly in the mirror in front of him and tensed, waiting for the clippers to start sweeping across the top of his head. To his surprise however, the old woman hung the clippers back on the plastic hook and picked up a small hand brush. She began to vigorously sweep the stiff bristles across his head, bits of his recently cut hair being flung into the air before drifting to the floor. After a few moments of this harsh brushing the woman picked up a comb and dipped the fingers of her other hand into a small pot that was sitting on the shelf in front of him. He could just make out what was written on the pot… "Royal Crown Pomade”. Her fingers emerged from the pot , with a large dollop of what looked like a sort of oily wax and she began to liberally coat this substance on his now short hair.
Satisfied that it had been thoroughly coated with this, she then began to draw the comb through the untouched hair, smoothing it flat against his head. She also carved a side parting into his hair while sweeping the rest towards the back of his head. By the time that she had finished her handiwork with the comb, David looked about 20 years younger. In fashion terms however, he looked as if he'd just escaped from the 1940s. She laid the comb back down on the shelf and inspected the results of her work. Satisfied that she had achieved the desired result she started to brush the pieces of hair from his shoulder and around his neck.
At this point, he was distracted by the sound of the door of the barber shop opening. 3 young girls entered. They walked over to the seated girl and sat down with her. They too were wearing little skirts that teasingly rested high on their young thighs. The girl was talking to the new arrivals and then pointed at David. The girls looked at him, trapped in the chair and laughed to themselves. If things weren't bad enough he thought, now he had an audience to witness his humiliation at the hands of this fierce barberette. One of them even had her mobile phone out and appeared to be filming the whole process.
Knowing there was nothing he could do now however, David eventually started to relax a little - moreso, as it appeared that his ordeal appeared to be finally approaching it's end. The capes surrounding him were undone. Relieved, he gestured to climb out of the chair, but a heavy hand on his shoulder firmly held him in the chair.
"Not yet", the old woman commanded.
He was unsure what was happening now. She removed the tissue from around the back of his neck, but then proceeded to replace it with a fresh one. Once again, she buckled and snapped the capes back into place. She leaned forward to pick up something from the shelf in front of the chair. He saw a slim canister in her hands which she started to shake vigorously. She then squirted some its contents into her hand and started to spread the white foam along his hairline over his ears, and then across the back of his neck. He stayed calm – this didn't look too bad. But then she started to spread the cream higher up the sides of his head and higher up the nape of his neck. He guessed that perhaps an inch or more of white foam was now spread along his hairline.
The barber wiped her hands briskly on a small towel and went and retrieved an old-fashioned cut-throat razor from a leather case on the shelf. She brandished the formidable looking instrument in front of him, the bright lights glinting on the long blade. He noticed in the mirror , the now four young girls were leaning forward in expectation – clearly they had witnessed this spectacle before and were keen to see another victim suffer at the hands of this firm woman. David blushed – embarrassed at being so publicly brutalised, and in front of such a young and pretty audience.
His head was once more pushed firmly over to one side and then his ear was pulled roughly down as she started to work the razor along his hairline. She worked confidently with the sharp blade stripping away the short hairs left by the clippers. David strained against her firm grasp to try and see in the mirror just how much damage was still being inflicted on his hair. He almost tried to lean away from the blade, but her grasp was too strong. After a few moments work, his head was released and he was able briefly to steal a glance in the mirror. His heart sank as he saw the broad white strip of naked skin left by the razor that now existed above his right ear.
With only a slight pause, the barberette twisted his head over to other side and his left ear was treated to the same rough handling. Once again the razor did its work and another broad white strip was carved across the side of his head on the other side. His head was released once more while she wiped the blade clean and he was left to contemplate the matching strips exposing his skin above both of his ears. On seeing the giggling and pointing girls in the mirror in front of him, he wished the floor would open up so he could be freed from this horrendous experience and disappear from their mocking gaze.
All too soon, his head was now forced forwards again as he tried not to think about just how much of his remaining hair at the nape was going to fall victim to the razor. He tried to gauge how high this new artificial hair line would be as felt the razor burning across his nape, the noise of its scraping blade contrasting with the continuing high-pitched giggles emanating from the young females behind him, clearly enjoying his embarrassment.
Suddenly the pressure was gone and he found himself released. As he raised his head, she picked up a rough towel and began to briskly rub it along the newly shaved skin to remove any trace of hair or foam. The skin, not used to this sudden exposure, stung as it was harshly rubbed. Finally, the capes were removed and he was brushed down.
As he lifted himself from the chair, he glanced once again in the mirror, to see the final result of the ritual he'd just endured. Mockingly, the barberette requested payment. Particularly with her very large stance, he felt he'd little option, and did so. Feeling rather embarrassed by the whole thing, and not knowing how to react to it all, he thanked her, and, still hearing the girls giggling, left the shop and back outside into the big wide world. He felt it sting again, as his newly shaved skin met the fresh air.
The next day, David was around that way again. As he approached the shop, even though he felt safe this time, knowing he couldn't get again, he crossed on to the other side of the road. As he passed the shop, he couldn't help but notice a young man, in his mid 20s or so, slowing walking towards it. As he glanced across, he also noticed that same startlingly pretty girl, standing at the door, looking towards this what was clearly to be new victim, about to be caught. She caught a glimpse of David in the corner of her eye as he approached, and a smile twinkled on her face. This time, less mockingly, and more of admiration. David smiled back.
He knew what was coming for this guy, and couldn't help imagining how he was going to look as he emerges from the shop again.




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