The Hair King by The Hair King

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As usual, he stood in front of the mirror admiring himself, especially his hair - or should I say HAIR. He had a massive mountain of hair on the top of his head styled into what used to be called a pompadour, but he hated the term. He just love his hair. The sides swept back but covered his ears and the back was long. Only the best salons could keep the curvature right at the back and even then longer strands sometimes trailed his back a bit despite his constant fiddling with his hair.
He was enamored with his hair and he fondled it all day. It was perfection in his mind. He was a beautiful young man, no doubt about it, but his personality was f***ed. He just could not seem to grow up. His hair was everything.
"I am the hair f***ing KING!" he said to the mirror. He said this a lot and to everybody who would listen - as well as those who would rather not. The gigantic mop drew a lot of attention. Some admired it. Some hated it. Nobody was in between, it was too enormous and attention getting. The hair dwarfed the slender body beneath it - often dressed in muscle shirts and tight jeans that slid below his ass cinched with a belt - nobody knew what the belt was really for. The muscle shirts were a bit of a misnomer as well because at best he had slender rock-n-roll muscles, more sinewy than muscular.
Because of the size of the hair, some called him the hair monster. Only a few knew that he really was a hair monster. He admired his own long hair and felt it was invincible, but he was attracted to chopping off other dude's hair, especially long hair, and especially some dude who loved his long locks. His tight jeans rose at the thought of stripping some stupid stud's long hair and making him cry like a baby.
"Not so tough without your pretty hair, are you boy?" Donny asked the mirror. His hand slid down to the boner stretching his already stretched and thread-bare jeans. The thought of stealing another's hair when his was safe and sound got him all horny.
"I am the Hair King! No f***er can touch this s**t," he reached up and strokes the highly sculpted locks that glisten beneath the vanity lights.
And he had just the victim in mind. Sal was new to the area, and he had hair - lots of hair. The blond hair cascaded down his shoulders, past his shoulder blades, and he had a thin tail like bit that trailed close enough to his ass. Yes, that dude needed a Hair King treatment. Donny smirked in the mirror, turning his head this way and that to admire the beauty that smirked back at him.
Hanging out at the pool hall last week, this Sal, Donny started calling him Sally, had pissed him off. Donny did not like attention being drawn to some other dudes long hair, so he started calling him Sally.
"Nice hair, Sally. Get your mommy to comb it out for you?" At first the guy just laughed it off, but then it started to irritate him.
Finally Sal said to Donny, "I saw you going to the movies the other day with some bald dude. Who was that?"
Before Donny could think, he answered honestly, "My uncle if it's any business of yours."
Sal just smiled and said, "Wow, he has no hair at all. You better look out."
The Hair King's face turned beet red. Nobody, but nobody threatened or teased him like this about his hair of all things. After all, he is the HAIR King!
He tried to stay tough, but he could feel the fear streaming through his body, "He's just my f***ing uncle, asshole. No relation to me."
Okay, Hair King was not always the brightest boy on the block. He was intelligent in some ways, but when his hair took over...."
At the moment though, he was full on hard and debated taking care of the little Hair Monster in his pants. Then again, that energy would propel him to go take care of Sal and his pride and joy.
A few of his friends knew the real Hair Monster was truly a monster, cutting other dudes hair, and they helped him. Donny only trusted a few, but there were friends of friends who were beginning to look at Donny's perfectly coiffed hair in a somewhat different light, though he could not imagine it.
"Coming to see you Sally," Donny sneered under the massive hair floating above his head with a trunk drooping sexily over his face to the tip of his nose, held only slightly up by the cloud of hairspray. "Or should I say cumming to see you," laughing at his genius.


Part 2
Donny was working out in his favorite gym. He didn’t work out too hard, but he had to keep fit to retain his cool image. He wasn’t muscular per se, but he had rock and roll style sinewy muscles and a slender body.
His long lean legs always looked good in his skinny jeans or in these tight workout pants he found online.
The great thing about a gym is that there are always lots of mirrors to look at. He could admire himself for hours with barely breaking a sweat. Of course, most dudes were checking out their muscles, but he spent a lot more time on his hair, admiring the sweep of it, the tallness of the sculpted mass on top of his head and the trunk that cascaded over his face.
Lo and behold, but who should he see but Sal!
F***ing Sal. What is he doing in my gym, Donny thought.
Sal was lying back on a bench lifting weights that the self-proclaimed Hair King, Donny, would never even attempt. Worst of all, Sal’s long blond hair was flowing out behind him dragging on the floor.
Why wasn’t it tied up? Shouldn’t the fag have it in a bun or some s**t? F***ing asshole, Donny thought.
Donny strutted over to Sal who seemed to be done with the weights.
"Are you done, Dude?" the Hair King asked.
Sal looked up at him and smiled. "Not yet ‘Dude’," he replied.
"Well, I want to use this bench, so get moving.
"Yeah, I don’t think so Poofta Boy."
"F*** you, this is my gym. I never saw you here before. Move it."
Sal smiled again, "Not going to happen little man. This isn’t your gym. You’re just a member here like everyone else. As usual, you are awful big on yourself. By the way, could you get that hair any bigger on your head?" He laughed.
Donny’s face burned red from anger and embarrassment. He looked down at the man on the bench and saw that he had been sweating a fair bit from lifting weights. Sal’s slender but well-built body was a beautiful sight, Donny had to admit. His eyes trailed up from Sal’s feet and strong legs to the tiny blue shorts he had on, barely concealing. Yeah, Sal was well built in every way. Donny snapped himself out of it for a moment.
"At least my f***ing hair isn’t blond and long like a girls. My hair is a f***ing work of art and a masterpiece to be admired."
"Yeah, and you do it all day long â€" day after day after day. No wonder you like it here with all the mirrors to check your pretty self out."
"F*** you," Donny’s eyes could not help themselves. They moved up Sal’s tight stomach to his chiseled chest, the sweat glistening on his pecs. Sal’s face was not a marvel, but it was handsome in its own way. The hair made it ever more so. The cascading blondness that flowed like a field of wheat just accentuated the good-looking face and reduced a few flaws. The nose was a little long and lying back like this, his ears were almost visible and looked a little large for his head. Short hair would not be a blessing for this dude.
"I said, I want the bench," Donny said again. "Move â€" you aren’t even using it now."
Sal smiled, "I’m not moving. I’m going to have a little nap right here because I’m tired out and your yapping just tired me out more. Why don’t you go primp your hair a little more?"
"F*** you," Donny was pissed. "MOVE!"
"Go pamper yourself, sweetie," Sal smirked. "That glowing halo of hair on your head and those long bits at the back need some attention. Maybe you did sweat into that mop after all."
Sal stopped talking about Donny’s hair because while looking at the young man, he actually started to get excited. After all, he spent a fair amount of time in the mirrors admiring his own long blond locks over the years. He was a good hair farmer, too. In these tiny blue shorts, he couldn’t get too excited without embarrassing himself. Donny was not big, but he was slim and fit and took good care of himself. Also, he dressed to attract attention, and today was no different. The tight ass and well-endowed crotch was on display.
"I’m going to take a short nap right here. I’m exhausted," Sal said. "Just go play with yourself for a while." Down boy, down, Sal thought. S**t did I go too far and get myself too excited?
Donny noticed a slight jump in Sal’s tiny blue shorts. He smirked. He knew that he was having an effect on the young man. He could use this to his advantage, but he had a better plan.
"F*** you," he said. "Fine, I’ll go work out on some of the other equipment since this place is f***ing empty. I don’t know why you can’t move on, but whatever."
"That’s a good boy," Sal said.
"F*** you, Sally."
Sal felt his gonads roll and his hotrod jumped to attention again, starting to spring to life. This can’t happen, he thought.
The Hair King saw the reaction but chose to ignore it. Well, not ignore it â€" remember it for tonight swank session, but he had other plans for Sal, the lad.
The place really was almost empty. Donny looked around and saw that nobody was even in the manager’s booth â€" must have stepped out as they often did when it was dead.
Sure enough Sal fell asleep. He really must have been exhausted.
Donny had been carrying his secret sauce around with him for a while, waiting to have a chance to use it. (Not THAT secret sauce â€" you naughty boys.) He had found that this mixture will remove hair without burning or doing any severe damage. Well, if you could call losing feet of long hair not severe. He doubted that Sal would feel that way.
It wouldn’t take much. He had no plans to immediately take all of Sally’s hair. He sneered at himself in the mirror and gently stroked his gigantic pompadour (that he refused to call a pomp) and slicked his hair back, stroking the much long strands in back.
He had changed back into his super-tight threadbare jeans and silk shirt open to his navel. His gold chain well revealed with the pair of scissors medallion on the bottom. It was just another "f*** you" to people who did not like his long hair.
"F***, I am the Hair King!"
Donny quietly moved to the booth and turned off the cameras. He then walked up behind Sal and checked to see if the dude was really asleep - fully asleep. Sure enough, the young man with the flowing blond hair was out of it â€" well out of it.
Perfect, Donny thought. He took out his little jar of cream and stuck his fingers in it. Just a wee bit will be needed, he smirked.
With rehearsed dexterity, he applied the cream to the top back of Sal’s head â€" right where a man would go bald if he were balding. The cream expanded when it touched the hair and Donny only needed to rub it in a bit in a circular motion.
He wanted to make sure that the circle on the back of Sal’s head was large enough that it would not be easily covered up by the rest of his amazing long blond hair.
The deed done. He quickly gathered his things, turned on the cameras, and left through the side door that should have been locked but often wasn’t which meant he would not be seen leaving.
The goal was not to have Sal lose all his hair at once. The bald spot would be so big that he would have to go get a haircut!
The only kind of haircut that would suit now with the huge bald spot would have to be very very short. Either a #1 or a baldy all the way!
Donny could barely walk in his tight jeans. "F*** me," he said and imagined Sal doing just that. "What!" he surprised himself. Why would he want that f***ing dude to do that?
Then he thought of Sal waking up and taking a shower. Won’t he be surprised. He was a little sad that he would not get to see that, but he knew that he would get to see the haircut.
No way, Sally boy would go to a barber. He’d be going to his regular salon to see if they could repair the damage done and keep the rest of his flowing gorgeous long blond hair. But Donny was sure the flaxen flow would be shorn â€" harvested like a wheat field down to stubble at least.
Oh, and the best bit was â€" this was also Donny’s hair salon. The Hair King had been going to it for years. He could be there and act all devastated that some other longhaired dude had lost his pride and joy. Not only would he get to watch, but he would also reduce any chance of being blamed for it. He could act. All he had to do was imagine that he was losing his hair, and he’d win the academy award for acting all sad and caring for the young dude being stripped of his pride and joy.
Donny laughed aloud which drew a few stares. Well, people always stared at his beauty anyway â€" especially the massive hair.
"F***, I gotta find a public washroom," he said to himself struggling to take another step as his cock rubbed against the skin-tight cloth of his skinnies. "Gotta," he cupped and lifted and aimed for a public washroom sign he saw.

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