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Ethan's Networking Bonanza by Manny

I was nursing a drink in a beach-side cafe when a handsome young fellow, clad in surfer shorts, who was tanned to a hue near mahogany strode up to me. His white teeth flashed a smile and his face was framed with flowing, sun-kissed blond hair that rested on his shoulders.

"Could you spare me ten dollars?" he asked quite politely and boldly.

I was taken aback. It occurred to me that he was begging! But he didn't look homeless or undernourished. In fact, he seemed like a wealthy or upper-middle class lad who spent a lot of time at the beach in idle recreation.

"Spare? Ten dollars? For what?!" I exclaimed.

"For me!" he laughed. "That beer you're nursing looks quite refreshing."

"In my day, people asked for spare change. A dime or a quarter -- for a bit to eat. Not ten bucks for a beer!"

I eyed his pretty mane with his natural streaks. "How about I buy you a beer -- have a seat and you can explain to me why you're begging on the beach."

I motioned for the waiter to bring another beer.

The fellow was more than happy to join me. "You make it sound so awful. I'm not begging, I'm socializing. I decided to take a break from graduate school -- the MBA can wait. A gap year mid course, let's call it. See if I can discover my true inner self -- not the world of financial wealth management and investments that's consumed my father. I want to be in touch with nature. The water and waves are wonderful."

"You have heard of skin cancer," I dead-panned.

"Bah! I'm living the moment....don't know where my next meal is coming from. I've met lots of amazing people, supporting myself through networking....just like I'm doing now. Let's start with names. I'm Ethan. And you are...."

"Nick. So, Ethan, you roam about meeting people and sponging off them...."

"Well, that's one way to put it....or, as I see it, letting people get to know me! You look like you're comfortably off. Will ten dollars break your budget?" he asked with a grin.

"Actually, Ethan, it won't. In fact, I would like to give you $100. I opened my wallet and withdrew a bill."

His eyes lit up. I was an each catch is what he was thinking. But the bill was bait...

"But, it comes coupled with another freebie that is worth between 15 and 20 dollars. " I remarked.

Ethan eyed the bill and his hand inched toward it. "And that would be....."

"A haircut, courtesy of me," I said just as his hand touched the note.

He looked up a bit startled.

"It has been a while since you've entrusted your locks to a barber," I commented.

"You're a professional barber?" he asked. "I would never have guessed...."

"No, an amateur one. And I really only know how to give one kind of haircut -- a buzzcut. All that hair mowed off, clipped right down to the wood."

Just then, the waiter dropped by with the beer and a carried on with a bit of chat.

Ethan couldn't stop pawing away at his locks during the interlude. Since he made no further move to pick up the $100 bill, I put it back in my wallet. I decided to see if he would raise the twin offer again.

"So do you live on the street, Ethan?" I asked.

"Hardly! I'm house sitting for one of my university profs who is on sabbatical in England. He has a lovely home up on the cliffs overlooking this beach." He gestured to where the sun was beginning to set. Then, he ran his fingers through his hair a bit more. "So, you want to shave this all off?"

"Yep, a nice, tight baldy cut...."

"Pay me $100 to let you shave my head?" he pressed, still a bit incredulous.

"Yep, down to the wood," I replied with a firm tone.

"Why?" he insisted.

"To watch that nice hair of yours fall to my feet. To see you sitting submissively as I bring the clippers up through your locks. To watch you be transformed from a cocky surfer dude to a vulnerable, military recruit."

"Wow! That's some heavy stuff!" Ethan exclaimed. I detected him beginning to twitch with interest, even a bit of excitement.

"But it interests you?" I asked.

"Maybe. I’ve been having a bit of a love affair with my hair, growing it out. Thought I would let it grow down my back, even to my waist. But, it's been on my nerves of late. I might be ready for a big break-up with it....and I could use the $100," he said with a sparkle in his eye.

He was going to go for it! Now, I was the one starting to get excited.

Then, he gave my emotions a bit of a jolt, seizing control of the discussion and turning it into a negotiation. "But, really, there is so much of it....and I get so much praise about it. 'Such great hair, Ethan!' It would be quite a sacrifice. I think, perhaps, $200 would be a fairer amount to let you play boot camp barber with me, Nick." He flicked his hair and I watched it dance about in the sunlight with a golden hue emanating from it.

I studied his magnificent mane. I was quite ready to double my offer, but didn't like the fact that Ethan was taking control of the negotiation with a counter-proposal. I wanted him submissive and quiet!

"That's a lot of money. More than I usually pay....but, if you're willing to submit to a bondage situation and be filmed....." I replied.

His eyes bulged. "Bondage!"

"Lots of duct tape. Strapped to the chair, helpless....no chance of escaping. Mouth taped shut! No chance of protesting." I snickered to see his reaction.

Suddenly, his cocked stirred in his loose surfer shorts. His eyes almost blazed with energy as he hit back to up the ante in his negotiating.

"Two hundred bucks will get you the bondage part, but if you want to film it, that'll be a cool $500." Ethan lean back in his chair a took a long swig of his beer, almost defying me to accept his outrageous proposal.

"You are out of my price range, Ethan!" I said, suddenly standing to leave.

"Wait! What about my haircut?" he stammered. "You got me primed for the big chop. Let's go back to the original $100 offer."

I looked at him and smirked. "Fine -- $100, but lather shaved smooth! Zip hair left. Oh, and before and after shots."

"But no bondage...."

There he went, trying to control the encounter again. He had to learn to play the sub part. And he would!

"Tonight, then. At that hotel there. Room 824 at 7:00 pm. But the rules are that you be submissive. Follow instructions and don’t speak unless asked to do so. You’ll leave with $100 and a cue ball shaved head."

"Got it, sir! I’ll be there just as you’ve instructed," he said with a sly grin.

I was on pins and needles waiting for the knock on the door to come. Actually, I half expected never to see the longhaired lad again. But, the knock came precisely at 7:00 p.m. He was doing as he was told!!

I had the clippers, cape, barber shears, razor and shaving cream setting out. Ethan looked like a movie star or male model when I opened the door. His locks and been brushed and were absolutely lustrous. "You’re right on time. Come on in." I noticed he was carrying a paper bag. "What’s that for — to take home some of your shorn locks as a souvenir?

He pulled out a roll of duct tape! "No, I changed my mind about the bondage scenario....."

And instantly he lunged at me and clamped his muscular arms about my torso, wrestling me back towards the makeshift barber chair.....

"Ethan....stop, I, uh, you’re....". My mind was in utter disarray.

Before I knew it, I had been forcibly made to sit and Ethan was wrapping the duct tape around my torso, strapping me to the desk chair. "I never knew something like this could be so fun," he laughed. I sat stunned, in total shock. His turning the tables on me had been totally unexpected. Then he taped my legs to the chair legs and my arms to the chair arms.

"Ethan!" I stammered. "I’m going to report you to....."

"To whom? The police? I don’t think so..... And don’t speak unless told to!" With that he slapped a piece of duct tape over my mouth. "Oh, look! The mature, handsome businessman strapped to a chair!. Now for a few ‘before’ shots, Nick. I’d ask you to smile for the camera, but that duct tape....ha, ha, ha!"

Then he began fondling my hair. "What have we here? A fussy businesscut! Plush, silken hair....thick....a tidy nape and a neat trim around the ears....but on top — oh, a longish 3-4 inches....enough to grasp and manipulate! Do you go to a gentleman’s salon, Nick? The stylist must coo over this for a generous tip. No visible gray, quite a feat for a man your age!"

I blushed at the praise. It was all true....

"Oh, I forgot the cape! We don’t want to get hair on these expensive threads of your Nick!" Ethan relished every moment of caping me up. He fastened the metal clip very tightly about the neck. "Now that you've been made to sit still, let’s explore your wallet. First, my fee. $100. Oh, here’s the bill. Ah, and a business card that reads, Nicholas M. Masterson, Corporate Vice President for Innovation. What in the blank is that?! And the company website....contact us.....where I can send pictures of your bondage haircut! Yes, won’t your employees love to see your humiliation....Of course, for a small monthly stipend, I think we can keep this little event private between the two of us."

I was being blackmailed! That double-crossing...genius! I struggled to break free, knowing it was hopeless.

"We better get your haircut started before you break your bonds, Mr. Masterson!" Ethan reached for the barber shears.

He stroked my hair tenderly. "Is this your first time on the receiving end?"

I nodded my head yes.

"It must be difficult to be the submissive man in the chair instead of the dominating barber....but, it’s good that you understand what you put unsuspecting lads through when you wave those $100 bills around." He flashed another grin and gave an endearing laugh.

Then Ethan suddenly grasped my thick forelock that was usually swept back in a styled quiff. "This is quite long."

I heard the awful crunching sound. He was hacking the forelock off right at the scalp! A few moments later he dropped the first shorn clump on my lap.

"Oh, I have an amazing talent. Look how quickly I butchered your corporate look!" He let forth a burst of laughter. Quickly he seized another lock and chopped it off. "Photo-op! Some brutal chinks in your professional helmet hair, Nick!" Then he showed me the photo on his phone. I looked pathetic. But, beneath the cape, my cock stirred at the site of myself on the receiving end. Ethan was an amazing fellow — and his hair so gorgeous.

"Ready for the clippers? I trust you’ve got them adjusted to the bald setting." He took off the duct tape so that I could talk.

"I fully deserve what you’re doing to me, Ethan. I just want you to know that....." I murmured, starry-eyed, at my tormentor. "Yes, they are set for a #000 length."

Suddenly, Ethan gave me a peck on the lips. "I’ve been wanting to do that ever since you made your offer to me.....". His long, soft hair brushed against my cheek.

"I’m glad," I replied softly, hoping for a repeat.

Instead, he picked up the clippers and snapped them on. "Down the middle of the head? Forehead to cowlick? Yes!"

The sound of the clippers mowing off my thatch on top was strangely different from the position of shavee. The buzzing sound, loud and threatening. I indulged in the enjoyment of feeling my hair slowly cascade off my head, down past my ears and face.

Ethan snapped another photo. "You might like your new bald look, Nick, once I'm finished. I think I’m cutting a few years off your appearance — bye-bye standard business cut. And, hello something modern and trendy!"

I sat submissively and quietly for the whole haircut, wondering how I was going to react and manage the reactions of others once I’d freed myself from the predicament I had created. In addition to my bald head, I found myself more enamoured with Ethan than ever.

When the machine was finally snapped off, Ethan exclaimed, "Oh, you are totally sexy! I think mature men are hot! Especially if they’re bald by choice." He caressed my stubble tenderly. Then he kissed me again -- this time, passionately. I felt like putty in his sway.

Finally, Ethan announced. "Now, it’s my turn!"

I was surprised as he picked up the barber shears.

He continued his soliloquy as he grasped a prime lock of hair that dangled from his widow’s peak. "This glorious hair -- but Nick here wants me bald! Should I do it, Nick? The exciting big chop?"

"Go for it!" I exclaimed.

Instantly the crunch of the shears hacking through the mass of golden hair rang out. Nick pulled off a wad of long hair and held it up! "Haircut time!" he exclaimed as he dropped the massive clump and watched it fall to the floor. The first whack energized him, and he took the shears again, randomly to his head. He sawed and sawed and sawed away, finally holding up what looked like a doll's head of hair. He threw the severed lock into my lap. "I should have a wig made for you...."

"You should let me be the barber, Ethan," I replied softly.

"I should....." he murmured. He stroked my stubble. Then he unfastened my cape and kissed my nape. "I'm ready for my haircut," he whispered. "There's some duct tape left over, so you can give me the full experience." In silence be began undoing the constraints that held me to the chair.

I trembled as Ethan set me free from my bondage.

The first thing I did was to explore my clipped head with my hand. Then I ran over to the mirror and gasped at what I saw. Ethan was right behind me, smiling broadly. "Pretty good, eh?"

The cocky lad needed some discipline. I gave him a quick swat on his rear end with my hand and snapped, "You need some discipline! Now go take a seat!"

He complied submissively. He sat still and quiet while I taped him to the chair. Then came the cape, quickly followed by the balding clippers. He groaned softly as he hair came off bootcamp style. Quickly, in rhythm drives of the machine, sheaves of golden hair fell to the cape. From under the striking mass emerged a well sculpted head. The white scalp contrasted dramatically to his tanned skin -- like a lady's bathing cap from the 1950s! The hair on the floor around the chair was like a shimmering carpet of silk.

I sniggered.

"What's funny?" he asked innocentlly.

"Quiet!" I snapped.

I stepped back and let out a longer, more hearty laugh. The white scalp shone like neon!

"Are you ready for the shaving foam and razor?" I asked as I uncape him.

"Yes, Mr. Masterson," he replied.

"So am I!" I exclaimed. "It's a nice large shower. And I think we both want to be scraped clean....."

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