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Carl's Proud Mop part 2 - Mopless! by Vince

With Susan gone for hours and Carl simmering - but just barely holding on to
his temper, I stood looking at the back of his head with the long silky blond hair
cascading down past his shoulders, beyond his bony shoulder blades and trailing to
the crack of his ass just barely visible above the sag of his super tight skinny
jeans. The hair on the hairboy was awesome even if the hairboy himself was a pain
in the ass sometimes.
What a brat!
His vanity knew no bounds - nor did his massive head of hair!
It was time, I thought.
Time that both the hairboy and the hair learn a lesson - that hair - no matter how long
and no matter how mouthy the brat was that carried it - could be cut off and barbered
down to stubble.
These thoughts began to give my jeans a bit of a rise.

"Well,f***er," he said, "are you going to get started or what. My awesome f***ing hair
can't wait forever."

"You're right," I bit down on my lip. "Let's get you into a chair so I can see how to fix
this up for you."

"That's more like it," Carl smirked and sat down in one of the chairs where we had been
wrapping presents. "Now don't f*** up, idiot."

"Of course not." I told him to relax and that I would need to brush out the long hair to make
sure I got all of the loose bits away before I attempted any repair job.
He was game for that because he loved having his hair stroked with the brush anyway.
I took his expensive camelhair brush and began stroking the long locks at the back. I could tell
almost right away that this was having an effect on the young man. He spread his legs and
leaned back into the brush strokes.
After quite a few strokes down the massive blond highway of hair, Carl began to get embarrassed.
His face began to get pink.
"F***, dude - aren't you done with the brushing for now? You stupid f***ing ass."

"I just want to make sure, Carl. Plus, you have such awesome hair and so much long hair, it takes
time to get everything right."

"Yeah, well whatever, dude. I think you should just get started on the fixing part soon.
I'm not sure I like some f***ing dumb shorthaired nitwit touching my sexy hair."

I ignored him and just kept running the bristles of the soft brush through the astounding length of boy's
blond hair. The long hair that took years and years to grow.
The extra-long strands that took thousands of dollars of hair care product over those years - and hours and
hours of care.
A boys hands and fingers constantly at his long hair tending to it, admiring it, fondling it, and wanking off
to it - I was sure.
Mind you, here I was doing the same thing with another boy's long locks.
I watched as Carl began to wiggle in his sexy tight jeans.
"F*** dude," he said but not with a lot of determination.

"What's up, dude," I joked. "Aren't you enjoying this?"

"Yeah, I mean.....no - well, yeah, but aren't you done yet."

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that. You just lean back, relax and enjoy the process. I know you

"What the f*** do you mean," he tried to sound angry but a boy with a boner and aiming for climax has a difficult
time being angry.

"I mean, I can see you're enjoying all this stroking or your long blond hair," my time to smirk but he can't see
me. "Maybe you need to undo those skintight jeans of yours for a bit."

"F*** you!" Carl was deciding which way to go here. I could have lost him, but - no, I had timed it
right. "They stretch," he said finally. His face turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Well, just saying. You don't have to keep your hands off it you don't want. You can fully enjoy this long hair
brushing if you like."

I kept stroking the long locks of stud's hair. I risked one more step. I leaned over him and with my strong hand
I brought back the long blond curtain of hair that hung over his face. His proud curtain of hair came back away
under my hand as I ran the brush through it.
I saw the boy under there - the wee nose slightly turned up, the freckles, the bit of acne on his forehead - the
real boy rather than the tough mouthy brat.
He moaned.
"Don't tell Susan," he said almost in a whisper.

"Of course not, dude," I replied. "This will be our little secret. I won't be telling anyone."

"Good. You better not," but the threat was weak by now as his hand quickly moved to the crotch of his super
skinny jeans and began working on himself with more attention than he ever paid to his school work or any job
if he wasn't so lazy to get one.

I did not need to speak now, I just brushed and stroked - brushed and stroked - brushed and stroked.
Each sweep of my powerful fingers sliding through the massive blond rivers of hair and each sweep of the soft
brush through the silky well-tended long blond hair brought the boy closer and closer.
Until.....finally.......Carl's back arched and his long skinny legs trembled with the force of a young lad
cumming all over his proud, sexy skinny jeans.
I thought I heard him say "Sorry." But I can't be sure.
Nevertheless, he was totally relaxed now, and - like all little boys when they cum, he fell asleep under my
gentle caress of his super long hair.

I smiled. Made sure he was fast asleep - and then got out the duct tape.
This will be fun, Carl, I thought. You are really going to love this.
I taped his arms to the chair. The boy did not even stir.
I taped his legs to the chair, and he fell into an even deeper sleep it seemed to me. The skinny jeans on the
lean legs made it easy to secure him to the chair. I looked up at his spread legs and saw the mess he had
made soaking through his pride and joy jeans. I also saw some of the long blond strands of hair that had
fallen over his chest down almost to his mess - the other huge pride and joy.

I took the shiny scissors that I had used earlier and opened and closed the blades before I actually put them
into the boy's fragile long hair.
A few snips and feet of hair came off the mouthy punk's head like a hot knife to butter.
It was amazing how weak hair really was - even years and years of proud brat's hair. I laughed and dropped
the huge swaths of hair down over Carl's stretched jeaned crotch. The long locks flopped over and lay there
like a dead animal.
I'd only just begun, but already there was a nice just below the ear swatch of missing long hair.

I went to finish my beer and stood looking at the mouthy little brat all swaddled to the chair with his
legs spread and dampened crotch now with sexy long blond hair creating a bit of a blanket - the back of
his head missing a patch.
Once I was done my beer, it was wakey wakey time for the spoiled boy.

I poked him gently in the side just to get him started. I didn't want him to miss his haircut.

Carl quickly realized his predicament, but he didn't realize right away why. His head pivots trying to see
why he would be taped to a chair.
"What the f***!" he yelled.

"Relax, Carl," I said. "You will enjoy this."

"What the f*** is this." He hadn't looked down, yet.

"It's your haircut. Remember, I said I was going to fix your hair for you."

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH !! Get the f*** away from me you asshole," he screeched like a banshee, but it did him no
good. The tape was holding fast.

"Take it easy, wee boy. Your voice just went up a few octaves. Will a haircut turn you back into a little
boy?" I laughed.

"F*** you, let me go now. Nobody but nobody touched my f***ing long hair."

"Hmmm, you weren't saying that earlier were you."

"Shut the f*** up! Let me go, now."

"Well, I'm afraid the damage is done, laddie." I showed him a small mirror where he could see the patch of missing
hair - cut to just below his ear in the back. "I guess I will just have to finish the job."

He screamed like a wee girl and wiggled around in his skinny jeans but he could not escape the tape job.
He also could not escape the haircut that was coming.

The scissors crunched with joy as they stripped the young man of his pride and joy. Crunching across the back just
above his shoulders, the long blond swaths sliding seductively to the floor and fanning out like a hair carpet.
As I moved across, I had to step on some of the beautiful long hair - careful not to slip on the stud's locks.

Carl continued to yell obscenities and began foaming at the mouth he was so angry and so unable to stop the process
of losing years of long hair.
His nose was flaring and all his anger was beginning to bring a tear as it faded to the little boy he really was.

I moved around to the sides and scissored the hair to just below his ears - brushing the hair curtain down over his

Carl moved into the begging stage.
"Please dude, not my long hair. Come on man. We had fun with my hair. Let me the f*** go and we'll forget all
about it."

I said nothing because the boy's hair was doomed and I knew that I would be moving out a few days before I'd
planned - no forwarding address.

Once all the sides and back were cut to just below the ear I showed him in the mirror. Mind you, he was still looking
through a blond curtain of long long hair.
The tears flowed, but the anger was still holding on a bit. Just as I suspected, he would not be forgiving me.
He spat at me forgetting that his long stands were in front of him so the wad of spit just soaked his own pride
and joy.

No worries though. The hair would not last long.

The obscenities persisted though, and I knew that the next step might bring so much noise that the neighbors might
be alerted, so I decided to use a little more duct tape.
Once over his mouth, the bratty punk could only make muffled sounds of swearing and threats.

When I plugged in the clippers, the young man had no reaction because I was behind him, but when I started the
beautiful and powerful Osters, the boy wailed behind the tape and tried kicking his way free again.
The skinny wee legs in their sexy tight jeans were not match for my taping job, though.
And, his sexy blond long hair was not match for the clippers.
The warm buzzing in my hand encouraged me to slide up the spoiled brat's head from nape to the top of his head.
The long blond flow of hair was amazing.
Much of the hair landed in his lap and brought on more tears and sniffling from the so-called punk stud who now
was beginning to look more like a little boy.
Carl's head was shorn surely as I moved the clippers from the middle to one side and then from the middle to the
other side - no mercy on the powerful long hair - oops powerless long hair.
Funny how some longhaired brats think their hair is so powerful, invincible and proof of their manhood. When,
in fact, it is so weak and fragile.
The shape of Carl's head was now fully on display. The dimple at the back of his head fully visible - hadn't been
seen since he was about six or so. The ears making a statement on both sides of a shorn head.
I flicked one of his ears to bring the point home to the mouthy boy - and he began to wet his sex pants - the skinny
cloth tightening even more on the boy's legs.
I thought all this as I gleefully reduced the proud punk to the whimpering wee boy he really was.
The stubble on his scalp was so short that you could see the pinkness of his head - clean to the bone almost.
I smiled.
Of course the long hair was still cascading down over his face. I had not touched it and it still reached the
several feet of hair he had all over his head before.
The long blondness did look awesome.
I looked at the scissors.
I looked at the clippers.
Then I spoke for the first time in a while.
"Well, well, well, Carl. You sure look different." I showed him the mirror again and a fresh bout of tears
jumped out of his eyes and flowed down into the long locks.
"What should I do with these bangs, though," I stroked them and flipped them up over his head letting them fall
back down again concealing most of the lad's face.
"What should I do with this long hair," I asked him but he couldn't respond.
I was really tempted to shear them, take all of his pride and joy long hair - but then I didn't
I left him with the long bangs - the beautiful blondness.
I took the tape off his mouth because with all the crying and snot from tears, I was afraid he might drown if he
couldn't breathe through his mouth.
He glared at me through his long blond mass that was a bit spoiled with tears but still awesome in its length and
I could tell he wanted to say something - to swear - to scream - but he was just smart enough to know that maybe
- just maybe he would get to keep some of his long hair if he kept his mouth shut.

I've got to give him credit. He said nothing at that moment.

Of course, I knew the hair would not last.

He was not smart enough to know that yet.

I smiled gently at him, but I too said nothing more.

I took my video tape of the scene and I grabbed my bag. I wasn't taking much, but it was enough.

Author's note - One more part if you want it!

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