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Skinnysag and the Stalker by BaldSurfer
Deke did a great job on a Skinnysag story, but I thought I'd try a story about him too.
He checked himself in the mirror one last time. The black t-shirt loose from his bony shoulders. Nobody had to know that it was a women's t-shirt, but he always wore them, because they were shorter and barely hung down past his navel. That way, the shirt wouldn't obscure the 2 inches of plaid boxer shorts that that stuck out above the waist of his tight low-rider jeans. And a quick shake of his head gave a little more volume and life to the shiny light brown hair that cascaded over his shoulders and hung halfway down his back. Everyone called him Skinny Sag because of his long, lean frame and the low rise of his jeans. Satisfied in how he looked, he headed off to the bar to meet his new friend. But let's start at the beginning...
Skinnysag had always had long hair. When he started high school, many of his friends did too. But as some of the guys got involved in sports, they traded their long hair for buzz cuts that were more comfortable and less maintenance. Sag was never tempted. As more guys cut their hair, he felt that he became more unique. He loved the attention that he got from girls because of his long beautiful hair. He even started encouraging other guys to cut their hair off. "I would never have the nerve to do it," he'd say. "I'm so scrawny. I'd look terrible. So I'm stuck with this mop, even though it's so out of style. But a guy like you would look really good with a buzz cut. I'm really jealous." One day, he tried that pitch on his friend Jake. Jake said he'd been thinking about it, had even bought some clippers, but never had the guts to go through with it. Sag quickly volunteered to help his friend and would act as barber.
Soon they were in Jake's backyard, Jake seated with a towel around his shoulders, Sag standing above him holding the clippers. "Let's do this," Jake said nervously, "but don't go TOO short." Sag agreed, but still put the #1 guard on the clippers. Sag turned on the clippers, and was surprised by the noise and powerful vibration. He placed them at the center of Jake's forehead and before Jake could object, pushed them backwards leaving a swath of stubble behind. Jake reached up and felt the tiny bristles and screamed "I said not too short!". Sag apologized and said he thought the lower number meant that it would cut less hair. With nothing to do but proceed, Jake calmed down as Sag ran the clippers over his head and a foot of dark brown hair piled up in his lap. Sag knew he'd be happy to have one less long-hair to compete with, but as he buzzed Jake's hair off, he felt more than just happy. Adrenaline coursed through him as he sheared the hair. Then he started getting aroused. He tried to position himself so that Jake didn't see the bulge in his tight jeans, and even after Jake's hair was gone, he took a few more long slow passes until his erection finally subsided. At the end, Jake liked the new look and wasn't angry about the "mistake".
But Jake couldn't forget the powerful sexual feeling of cutting off all that hair. He still had no desire to lose his own beautiful mane, but fantasies of cutting other guy's hair became more and more frequent. Throughout the rest of high school, he sometimes volunteered to help friends maintain their buzz cuts, and became pretty good at it. It was a little erotic, but never as much as the radical shearing of Jake. After high school, most of his buddies went off to college while Sag worked at the local car wash. And he never had any other close friends who'd let them cut his hair.
Sag started surfing the internet, looking for sites with pictures and videos of extreme haircuts. YouTube was filled with head shaving videos, and for Sag they became like porn - he'd watch the while he fantasized and masturbated. Soon he also found forums dedicated to like-minded guys, people who enjoyed getting and receiving extreme haircuts and head shaves. Sag was unique though, as the only participant who admitted to having long hair. He was always clear that his fantasies involved GIVING haircuts, not getting them. But he would often post pictures of his hair, just so he could hear detailed fantasies about how the other members would shave his glorious main away.
One user who seemed to frequent all the haircut sites currently called himself Master Barber. He was famous for always propositioning members to get together for mutual shavings. He often got so aggressive about it that users would ask that he be banned. But he'd resurface months later, with a different user name, but everyone always knew who he was.
Sag had posted his latest picture, to show off how long his hair had grown. Members elaborately laid out scenarios of how they'd love to shave all those glorious curls away. Sag told the group that e'd never cut his hair, but he would love to shave a head that had hair like his own. Master Barber responded and confessed that like Sag, he had long hair, had been lying to the group, but was now ready to get his own long hair shaved off. Sag didn't even respond.
A few days later, Sag answered the phone, and a voice asked "Is this ______ (using Sag's real name)?" When Sag said yes, the caller asked" Are you Skinnysag? on the haircut sites?" Sag was surprised. How had this guy found him?
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to freak you out. You used your real name on the Flickr account where you keep your photos, and that's how I found you. I just needed somebody to talk to and you may be the only person who'd understand me."
Something in the guy's sadness made Sag want to listen. The caller explained that he'd be mortified if anybody in his "real" life ever knew about his haircut fetish and the things he participated in online. He explained that he truly did want to finally get his long hair shaved off, and wanted to share the experience with someone who'd appreciate it. And since it turned out that they lived only a few towns apart, he thought maybe Sag would want to share the experience. But he assured Sag that he didn't want to cut Sag's hair - just get his own cut off.
Sag weighed the thrill of the opportunity against the fear of meeting a stranger from a fetish site, but decided that they could at least meet for a drink someplace public and see where it led. So, now Sag was on his way to the bar.
Sitting alone, at the corner of the dark bar was a lone man, a long blonde pony tail hanging below his shoulders. Sag introduced himself, sat down and the blond stranger handed him a beer. Sag usually had a strong tolerance for alcohol, but halfway through the second beer, he felt drunk and dizzy. He said something that caused the blond stranger to throw back his head with laughter, and Sag saw the golden blond hair slide backward, exposing black stubble. "It's a wig" was the last thought that went through Sag's head before he passed out.
He awoke gagged and tied to a chair in a motel room. The blond wig was abandoned on the bed. He looked at himself in the mirror, and saw the terroron his own eyes. From the bathroom walked the stranger, 2 days of black stubble over his shaven head. He was holding a large set of barber scissors and black professional-looking clippers. Sag tried to move was his bonds were too tight. He tried to scream, but the gag muffled his cries.
The stranger plugged in the clippers and set them down. He produced 2 small rubber bands and gathered Sag's hair into pony tails on either side of his head. He looked like s ridiculous farm girl. "You're nothing but a haircut tease! You talk big about cutting hair, but you ain't man enough to cut your own! Look at those pigtails, you little girl! I'm about to make a man out of you!" As he grabbed a pig tail and snapped the scissors open, Sag began to sqirm. "Sit still! These are razor sharp. If you behave, you leave with a haircut, but you keep squirming and you may get cut pretty bad!" With no escape, Sag sat still, and watched as the scissors cut through the bundles hair. As the foot long clump fell to the floor with a soft thump, and the remaining hair on that side of his head hung with in choppy ruin above his ear, Sag felt the tears start to flow uncontrollably.
"Have your last little girl cry," his attacker said as he sliced the second pigtail away. Sag closed his eyes to block out the sight of his butchered hair, but still the tears flowed. But sadness turned to terror as he heard the clippers roar to life. Just as he'd done to Jake, all those years ago, the stranger pushed the clippers down the center of his head. But with no guard attached, they left only bare skin in their wake. Sag closed his eyes again. There was no escape, but he couldn't watch. Still, with each pass of the clippers, there was the unfamiliar feeling of cool air hitting newly shorn scalp. When the deed was done, Sag looked at the pale white scalp in his reflection. He wasn't built like men his age, he kinds who looked manly and tough with a shaved head. His thin face and bony torso combined with his bare head to make him look more like a cancer patient than a marine. How many years, he wondered, would it take to grow back the hair he loved.
The stranger took the 2 pony tails as souvenirs, and left Sag bound in the room. "I'll call the hotel when I'm far way and they'll send someone to free you, so you can start your new life as a man!" 2 hours later, he was freed. The hotel manager asked if he wanted to call the cops, but Sag was too afraid that his secret obsessions would be revealed.
He called in sick to work, and barely left his apartment for the following week. He promised himself he'd stay away from the haircut site, after warning them about what had happened. When he finally rejoined the world, he covered his shame with a hat. When people asked, he said he'd gotten drunk one afternoon and made a rash decision to cut his hair off. Some people complimented his new look but he assured everyone that he was going to grow it back, even longer next time.
Slowly his hair grew out to over 2 inches. He finally needed to at least comb it. But without the length to weigh them down, the curls made his hair hard to style or keep neat. One day, he anonymously visited the old haircut forum, and read a few stories of buzz cuts and shaves, but he no longer got aroused by them. As the weather grew hotter and his hair grew another inch, he found himself walking past a local barber shop, pausing to watch kids get their hair clipped off for the long hot summer. At first, he'd think "Not me. Never again!" but with each passing day, he started to think, "Maybe if I tell him not to cut it TOO short." And then, one day, he ran his hand through the growing mop of messy curls, and heard the bells jingle as he opened the door to the barber shop and stepped inside...