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Carl's Mop - Truly Mopless (part 3) by Vince
When Susan returned home she found Carl sitting still trapped to the chair with his head hanging low, the long beautiful
blond bangs drifting down over his face and chest. She could see the rest of the boy's long beauty scattered across the floor
but mostly around and under the chair.
She ran over to release him from his bonds, and she saw that he had been crying but his tears were dry now. His face was
beet red with embarrassment as she told him it would be alright.
"The F*** it will," he replied. Apparently his mouth was coming back. "My f***ing hair has been CUT!" he said incredulous
that such a thing could actually happen to such a hair stud. "My f***ing long hair has been cut. That just can't happen."
The lad rushed to the washroom as soon as she had him released. He looked in the mirror and a fresh bout of tear sprung
forth. He ran his slender fingers through the extra long blond hair at the front of his hair and then pulled it back up
and over the stubble on the rest of his head. He was furious but tears was all he could do at the moment.
He looked at himself over and over and decided that at least he still had long hair - some long hair. The long startling
blond bangs looked good swept over his head - like an undercut.
He started to convince himself that he could pull this off. He could say that he did this on purpose to show of the amazing
length and awesome glory of his blondness - the super length of his "fringe" was admirable and punk and the blondness
was even more glorious when contrasted with the short darker stubble.
"It looks good," Susan said from the doorway. She had been watching Carl for some minutes fondling his long hair - what was left
of it. She noticed that as he played with his golden shafts, another shaft in his super tight skinny jeans was getting
excited as he reached more and more to make adjustments. She used to watch him do this with his long hair when he didn't
know anyone was looking, bending his knees and his tight little ass to try and make room for the shaft movement.
He flung the long blond shafts over his left eye and sneered.
"I always look f***ing good, and my long hair is still long. That f***er thought he could destroy the longhaired punk stud
but he was wrong, as always. F***, I am still a longhaired dude."
"Okay," Susan said and left him to his own enjoyment.
The next few days saw Carl continue to admire himself in every reflective material he could find as he got used to the new
normal - short and long hair, but he focused on the extra long bangs that glittered gold and could be swept across his face
and into his mouth or up and over his head to conceal most of the lost longhaired glory of before.
If anything, his hair took up even more time than before!
His trip home for Christmas was uneventful. But the arrival home was not so uneventful.
Dad and Carl had not got on for some time, and a lot of this was due to the hair. Nevertheless, father was pleased to see that
his son had at least cut a massive amount of hair off his head.
He thought maybe the boy was finally growing up and going to take some responsibility. He still didn't like his clothes. Why would
a boy want to wear girl's jeans.
"They aren't f***ing girl's jeans, dad. They are skinny jeans made for men, dude."
"Then why are you wearing them?" His father scoffed. "You are no man." He watched his son as he shifted atop his heeled boots with
chains and metal toes - the tight jeaned ass accentuated by the heels - the crotch tight enough to leave little to the imagination.
Father just shook his head.
"Well at least you had sense enough to get rid of most of that disgusting long hair of yours. Your argued with me
all the time that you would never, ever cut that long blond hair. Guess I won after all." He grinned.
Carl did not like the grin or the comments. There is no f***ing way he would ever have cut his super ass-length hair on his own.
"No you f***ing did not, dude" the young man sneered. "I didn't f***ing cut my long hair, some asshole gave me a forced haircut," he
blurted out without thinking. "You actually think that I would ever damage my own f***ing long blond hair. My locks are famous,
"Still, you had a haircut," father was laughing now as he saw Carl's face turn redder than his red skinny jeans that sagged off
his little ass.
"I still have f***ing long hair, dude," the boy shouted. "Nobody f***ing makes me a shorthair. That's still true. I gots all of this, dude"
he sweeps his fingers through the silky blond mass at the front of his head and flares the wafts up and over his head, shaking his
head to let some of the strands drift in front of his face, licking a few of them with his tongue.
"You gots it do you," the father scoffed again. "Well, that's temporary, and you should know it."
"Yeah, I gots long hair still, dude. These f***ing long bangs are still long. I'm not going f***ing bald, so you can skip that s**t again," Carl glared.
"Maybe, maybe not - time will tell. But in the meantime, you have to get the rest of your hair cut, that was the deal. Once you
get a haircut, you have to keep it cut. You did not forget the rest of the deal did you?"
Carl's face blanched. "Fine, I'll keep it as it is, dude" he said a little quitter, "for a while."
"No, you won't," Father told him. "Let me remind you that in your hubris you challenged that any haircut meant a total haircut - and
it has to stay that way, not halfway."
"That's not true," Carl tried.
"Shall I show you the scrap of paper you signed without any hesitation? I knew you would never claim to remember."
"Exactly. Well, let's get it done right now."
"No, I'm not having a f***ing haircut. Are you nuts, dude?"
"I thought you said you were a man. A man stands by his deals and agreements." The father approached the much smaller young man and steered
him toward the kitchen chair - the one he had not sat in since he was about 7 years old and was made to have short haircuts.
"No," Carl whispered but before he knew it he was seated in the chair and the father was commending him on the cut in the back.
"I will just straighten out the front for you, and you will be as good as new - a new man."
"I don't want no f***ing haircut, dude! My long hair is famous - it is f***ing legendary, dude."
"You do know how much I hate being called dude, don't you?" Father smiled, but the smile was not a friendly one. He also had a
huge towel - aka cape - in his hand.
Carl swallowed hard as he felt a lump in his throat. "I want to make another deal. A different deal, dude."
"Don't be a big baby, Carl. I thought you were supposed to be some cool stud or something. Just sit tight and be a good
That did it. Carl jumped up and yelled, "I ain't no f***ing good boy and I'm not getting my f***ing long hair cut, dude!"
"You already did, son," Daddy pushed his son back down on the chair and raised his hand to let the lad know there would be no
turning back. "If you don't want your bare ass to be the same shade of red as your tight girly pants, then you better
behave and be a good boy."
"F***!" Carl knew he was trapped. The huge towel draped over him covering his arms and upper torso.
"Whoever did this, did you a big favor, son," Dad said and rubbed his big rough hand over the stubble on Carl's head, reminding
the boy of his previous forced haircut. He couldn't stand the feel of a man's working hand on his previously well-adorned blond head.
Carl's eyes began to glisten with moisture.
"You aren't going to cry, are you, big stud?"
Carl shook his head no even though he doubted this would be true. He was furious, but knew that the loss of his hair would be
debilitating - the shame.
Father grabbed the long shocks of blond hair and raised them up to peer at them full length.
"These are very very long, son. It must have taken you years to grow them this long. Shame they won't be coming back any time
soon." He let the shocks of shockingly blond tresses fall back down letting the silkiness slide and taunt the poor boy.
"I'm f***ing growing my hair back as soon as possible," Carl pouted.
"We will see," dad said as he combed the long bangs down over Carl's face. The beauty was undeniable. The comb slide smoothly
through the well cared for hair, concealing the boys face and half his body. "How pretty," father scoffed.
Carl was proud of these long glory and could not believe he - the studf***ing longhaired punk - was in this position.
Dad began at the back of the boy's head, leaving all the massive curtains of blondness hanging down in front. The clippers
sound made Carl jump a little, and the father chuckled. This will be fun, he thought, bringing my little boy back
to where he belongs - a good little well-behaved boy. Of course, the clothes and attitude will have to come next.
Still the clippers made music as they stroked up the back of Carl's head. The number 1 guard bringing his stubble even
shorter than before and bringing up a line closer and closer to the front of the lad's head.
He didn't quite bring the clippers over the front, so Carl still had his curtain, though it was thinning a bit because the
strip was becoming ever so much more narrow.
The buzzing of the clippers, the utter fear, and the sight of his absolutely gorgeous long blond hair made little carl jump
in his tight skinny jeans, his shorts barely able to contain his excitement, the boner reaching for attention.
"Please," Carl said as he saw a few of the extra long blond strands fall into his lap and across a dampening bit of red
cloth. "Please, stop, Dad!"
Father turned off the clippers and looked through the still massive blondness of the boy's long hair. "What is that, son?
You don't want me to continue with your nice haircut?"
"No," Carl sniffed. He was holding back tears. "I don't want a haircut, dude. I can't have short hair. I'm known for my long
hair. My long hair is f***ing famous, dude."
"That's just silly. Hair can't be famous, son. If just makes you look like a silly frivolous little brat."
"F*** you, dude!" Carl forgot himself. It was enough.
I told you not to call me "dude" - apparently, you don't learn easily." The clippers roared back to life and the blades bit into the
truly long blond mass this time. The clippers smoothly slide over the top of the boy's head and down to his forehead. The snowfall
of blondness was astounding, one could almost hear the swoosh of long sexy blond hair as it swept over the boys leg and to the floor.
The left side of the boy's head was almost shorn.
As father moved closer to the center, he could see Carl was crying full on now, tears streaming down his cheek and his nose.
Father smiled. His son was coming back to a boy as the hair fell.
The first few wafts of really long hair made Carl's back arch. Tears flew out of his eyes and proud boy juice creamed his studly tight jeans.
How much more humiliating could this be! He thought and swallowed hard, hoping his father had not noticed his now spreading wet patch on his dude's jeans.
Father had noticed and was now grinning broadly as he realized his dream of bringing his little boy back under control. He chuckled at the fact that the young man could not control himself with tears and spunk. Father controlled his head and his manhood at the same time - goodbye long hair.
As the clippers slid over the center of the boy's head and down the right side - constantly moving over the top and down the forehead, letting the hair fly down onto the now blubbering young man, the boy sucked in and out crying like a baby.
Some of the longest stud f***ing blond hair got stuck in the mess on his jeans and made him look even more pitiful and weak.
The clippers turned off.
Carl had a number one clippercut all over his head. His face was a mess with tears running down his cheeks and snot coming out of his nose mixing in with wisps of now disconnected hair. He looked like an overgrown baby who did not know how to pull up his pants.
Dad could see the ass of his underwear as they were all that was touching the chair with the boy's sag, and thought how much it looked like the kid was in a diaper and getting his first haircut - scaring him to tears.
Carl moved to get up, but Dad put a strong hand on his shoulder. "Not just yet, son. We are almost done."
He picked up the clippers, and the boy nearly fainted. Not MORE! He thought there was nothing left, but he was wrong.
Father took the guard off and ran the clipped down the center of Carl's head again. The dude was getting his hair shorn right to the scalp. After several passes that stayed in the middle of his head, he now had a wide swath of almost bald head.
Surprisingly, the crying did not stop. The kid had a lot of tears inside.
Carl felt his father fingers toying with the puny bits of stubble now on the middle of his scalp.
"Just about finished, young man."
He wrapped a hot towel around the boy's neck and proceeded to shave his neck with a razor, cleaning up the back.
Then, almost as if on an afterthought, he spread some warm shaving cream on the top of Carl's head.
Carl yelled, "NO!"
"Well, son, you were always teasing that nice young roommate you had who had MPB and I've heard you call my friend Frank a number of unflattering names because of his bald spot. I think this will do you good."
The boy was almost defeated. Physically, he didn't have the strength to fight back, but his smartmouth continued.
"That faggot! You can't f***ing compare me to that faggot! I'm f***ing awesome, and I ain't no f***ing freaky bald f***wit."
Dad was patient with the boy because he knew he would win this battle now. The razor cleaned up the lad's pate on the top of his head. He still had stubble on the sides and smaller stubble up top except where the giant bald spot was. After shaving, he applied a few hair removal strips and whipped them off.
Carl whimpered. Dad looked down at the young man and showed him the back of one of the strips.
"See, son, if you look closely you can see a few little white bulbs in there, can't you?" The boy shook his head. "Those would be the hair root. We don't want the haircut to be gone too quickly now do we." The boy wailed like a two year old having a temper tantrum. Dad polished up the bald bit and applied a little wax so that he could polish it up to a gleam.
The former longhaired stud punk who strutted his tight-jeaned ass and mouthed off all the time was now a very shorthaired brat with a giant gleaming ass bald spot on his head!
What a transformation.
"One last step," Dad said. He took some creamy pomade and applied it to the boy's extremely short hair and even the bald spot.
"F***," he heard the boy say.
"No worries, son. We are all done now. This pomade is not so much a pomade as a slow growth mixture. It will ensure that your hair remains this short for a very long time.
Father stood back and admired his young boy. Of course, he wasn't looking his best at the moment, but at least he didn't have that ridiculous long blond hair floating all over his face, back, and backside.
Of course, now with his sagging jeans, his ass would be more visible, but that would soon be taken care of.
For now the previously proud longhaired punk stud was reduced to a sniveling wee boy with the shortest hair of anyone his age.
Whereas before he looked like a skinny rockgod with the attitude to go with it and the long hair to support him, he now looked like a scrawny little brother wearing his big brothers cool clothes.