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A firm hand by Northernsub

This is a true account of a haircut experience I underwent just yesterday in my home town near Manchester, England.
Firstly you need to know that I have a strong haircutting fetish which was developed when, as a boy, I was regularly subjected to harsh shearings by a traditional barber. As I grew into my teens and requested just a trim, I was ignored and had no choice but to succumb to the usual savage short, back and sides.
As I grew older and I left home, my hair became longer and longer and visits to the barber were nonexistent.
However as the hair started to recede I realised I needed a hairdresser to cut my hair accordingly, so I began to visit female barbers and developed a strong desire to be under the control of a dominant barberette. I also avoided male barbers - maybe because I remembered how brutal my childhood barber was.
Fast forward to yesterday.
I was walking down the road to get a peep in the local barber’s window but couldn’t quite see whether the woman barber was free. The window was steamed up, however I got a glimpse of her and the ship seemed empty so I went in. The usual feeling in the pit of my stomach, whenever I turn the handle on a barber’s for and walk in, hit me. Sure enough there was the barberette and she immediately motioned me to her station- a large foreboding leather barber’s chair.
I was walking towards the chair when the door opened and in walked another man. The barberette immediately greeted him and asked me to go and sit in another chair. She proceeded to place a cape over the man and discuss his haircut.
As I was wondering what was going on a male barber came from the back of the shop and without speaking threw a large heavy cape on me. He was in his late twenties and very tall and strong, his hair was severely shaved at the sides and very short on top.
I requested a no2 down to a no1 and he nodded and proceeded to arrange the tools of his trade. His large strong hands gripped the clippers and the top of my head. He firmly pushed my head down without ceremony whilst requesting, no, ordering me to put my head down. He dug the number 1 clippers at the base of my neck and with all his strength made numerous passes up and down over and over again whilst gripping and twisting my head. I was helpless under his vice like grip. Higher and higher he went and I could see clippings flying off as he repeatedly went over the same areas. He was so firm with the clippers that my neck was getting sore.
Picking up the no 2 shears he repeated the process higher up, although by the time he has finished it was considerably shorter than I would usually expect. Out came the trimmers and the straight razor to finish off - or so I thought.
I could see he wanted more, almost as if he knew my torment, and he picked up the shears once more and extremely vigorously and repeatedly went all over my head, gripping and moving it around with his strong arms. I thought he would never stop.
Finally I was released and I paid and left exhausted.
I reflected on what had just happened. I am attracted to the control of a barberette, yet because I never wanted to be seen to by a male barber it almost became more exiting.
So here I am today scalped and shorn, plotting my next encounter- wherever that may be and with whomever I succumb to..,

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