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Troy Is Defied by The Hair King


Troy was really beginning to enjoy his own long hair.
This was the longest he'd ever had the silky blond strands. The cascaded
down over his shoulders, and as he drew the brush through the awesome strands
they fluffed down past his shoulder blades to past the middle of his back.

He would brush the hair with his fingers over his face, watching the blond
beauties slip and slide down past his eyes, past his nose, past his mouth -
except for a few strands that fell between his lips that he sucked on
sometimes - and down past his chin.

His friend, Bob, told him he looked like Cousin It when he did this in the
park one day.
Troy laughed now, looking at himself in the mirror, admiring his own beauty.
He admired the length of his slender body and his practically hairless chest
and lean legs.
He well made up for the hairless condition by having the massive bulk of blond
beauty on his head.

The brush was his friend.
It spread the natural oils throughout the massive head of blond locks, the long
hair benefited from his attention to detail. He occasionally got a bit of frizzing
at the ends, but generally the constant brushing with the brush and then
fingering with his long slender fingers throughout the day kept the hair
well moistened with boy oil.

As he stood now looking in the mirror, he took a swath of the long hair
and pulled it away from his eyes. Looking into himself, he felt the familiar
growth down below.
"My hair," he mouthed. "My BEAUTIFUL hair," he whispered.
His hotrod jumped to attention - stretching out the silk boxers he wore.
"My INVINCIBLE hair," he spoke almost aloud now - taking a chance.
He couldn't believe how this affected his boner - jumping and pleading for attention
now, he thought he'd better stop.

Although he loved LOVED giving that part of his anatomy some attention, he also
didn't want to be late to meet up with his friend, Bob.
He had always been a good friend, but lately, he'd become something else, too.
He seemed to always be saying things about Troy's long hair that made him uneasy but also
very very excited and energized.

Bob was a tease and had been teasing Troy as his hair got longer and longer.
Now that the blond tresses had reached such a length as to be the longest hair
in their whole college, Bob seemed to have more of an edge to his teasing.

This should have scared Troy away - but instead, his boner defied him and
kept claiming to want more.
Even now thinking about it, the bone was stressing him as he tried to fit on
his short shorts.
These jean shorts were another of his pride and joy. He loved the buttons, he loved
that they were threadbare, and he loved the ultimate shortness of them.

In front of his mirror, he admired his slender waist and thin physique that was
accentuated by these shorts.
He thought they made him look more punk, more cool, more f***ing awesome.
Even though, he had - from time to time - felt more like a little bratty boy when he
got caught in a group of real men on the subway or bus wearing these torn clothes and
little tiny short shorts!

He knew it would be exciting to wear these - the shortest he had. In fact,
he had never worn them in public before.
He knew Bob would have something to say about them as well as his hair.
Without underwear, Troy was wondering if he could control himself - but then
that was part of the excitement.
He had already done a trial run with a hotrod to see how he'd have to maneuver
to keep it within the confines of the minuscule denim.

Just the other day, Bob had asked Troy to do him a favor.
He said that any punk worth his salt should be willing to take on a bet or a
challenge.
Troy, not thinking, said he was always willing to take on a bet or challenge.

"I don't fear a f***ing thing, dude" he lied.

"Hmm," Bob laughed, "Well, that's news to me. I think you should take on
a challenge from me."

"What kind of challenge, dude?"

"Nothing too major. You're my friend. You know I'd never let anything
bad happen to you or make you do something too drastic."

"Of course," Troy grinned, swiping away huge masses of hair that was blowing in his face.

"Well, I just think that we should have more fun with that long hair of yours."

Troy's face flushed.
"What the f***, dude" he laughed but his laugh was highpitched.

"Yeah, - just a little challenge with your hair. By the way, I think those shorts might be too tight," he laughed.

"I don't know, dude," Troy slid a dollop of his soft blond hair in through the
corner of his mouth and began sucking on it like a pacifier.

"Stop calling me dude, f***wit. Don't suck on your f***ing hair, faggot," Bob sounded angry - but then added
a not-so-convincing smile.

Troy thought of all this as he caught the bus.
His luxurious long blond hair was flowing freely and brushed to perfection -
glowing practically - the sun-kissed locks lovely and obviously treasured.
Everyone on the bus this day looked at the boy's long hair and knew
immediately that this young man treasured his hair beyond belief - beyond
narcissus - this hair was beloved.

Troy shook his head and let the mass fall over his face, sitting down to
enjoy the stares and whispers of those who hated the length of his hair
and the fact that the hair concealed most of the young stud's face.

He thought again of Bob's conversation in the park.

"You should just take a little challenge, now that your hair is so long."

"Like what, dude?" Troy's voice spoke without his permission. He surprised himself
and then realized that it was his dick talking as it rose in his jeans.

"I don't know." Bob said the words; however, anyone who heard him would know
that he DID know what he was talking about.
"You see that barber shop over there," Bob pointed to an old barber shop - the red
and white pole had long stopped turning, the paint was peeling on the shop walls, and
the plate glass window needed cleaning.
It was obviously an old fart's barber shop.

"Yeah," Troy swallowed hard as his eyes bulged from his head. He swung the silky, well
tended long hair.

"Well, why don't you just go in there and have a seat - waiting your turn."

Troy said nothing. He kept staring at the shop. There were two older men going in
and some old - almost bald dude coming out.

"You know, since you're afraid of nothing," Bob smirked. "Just to prove that you're
still a f***ing punk dude with 'tude. Or maybe you could just stop calling me Dude all the time."

Troy's pants were stretching and he shifted so his friend couldn't see what was
happening to him.
He wondered if Bob had ever guessed how he felt about his long hair.
Still, he said nothing.
He was afraid to speak because he thought his cock might defy him again. Every time
he was just about to yell out that Bob was an asshole and that was the last thing
he would ever do is go into a barber shop - he felt a surge and a voice trying to
say something else. He wondered why his proud cock was defying him.

"Just to prove that your still my friend, and not some faggot asshole, dude," Bob
pushed.

Troy's imagination was now going wild. He could see his blond locks sitting in that
dingy waiting room - threatened, stressed, trembling at the sight of clippers and
scissors - and god knows what else they had in there to torture a dude's precious long
long hair.
He couldn't hold back.
He'd meant to say, "No f***ing way, dude."
He said, "What the f***, I'm not afraid to go sit on my sexy ass in a barber shop. F***ing
show them what a real head of f***ing hair looks like."

"So you'll do it?" Bob sounded surprised.

"F***, I'd do it."

"But you love your long hair," Bob countered.

"Of course I f***ing love my long hair, dude," Troy had said it without thinking.
"But sitting in a f***ing chair ain't gonna hurt me." He wondered if this was true.
Would his dick lead him further astray?

Still, he was totally boned up and his cheeks were flush with excitement.
He cold almost feel the long strands of hair standing up on his head.

Bob reached over and swatted huge swaths of long blond hair down over the dude's head-
concealing his face and chest.

"You the dude," he joked. Troy tried to pull away but now his hair defied him as Bob grabbed swaths of the hair from his lower back and yanked gently and then a little more firmly.

Nobody but nobody controls his long hair, Troy thought - but felt his cheeks redden as he waited for Bob to let go of his pride and joy.

And today, Troy was on the bus - rolling toward his destiny - a challenge taken up with
his friend Bob.
If he had wanked off this morning while he was brushing the pride and joy - he would not
be on this bus heading toward the old fart's barber shop.
But he hadn't wanked. So his young lithe body was writhing with testosterone, rushing
his system and constantly exciting him to all the wanking possibilities.
Basically, the hotrod in his shorts was pointing the direction and leading him on. The penis brain had overwhelmed the brain in his head under all the long blond locks of pristine hair.

He did not have far to walk from the bus stop to the old fart's barber shop. Bob was waiting eagerly near the shop.

"Hey dude," he slapped Troy on the back getting some of the long strands of blondness stuck on his fingers. He shook his fingers to extract them as if from some disgusting s**t.

Troy laughed, but Bob could hear a nervous tremor in his friend. "Hey."

"You ready for this?"

"Sure." Troy shifted on his Osiris and adjusted his shorts a bit. "You coming in with me."

Bob laughed, "What are you five? Give me a break. I can see perfectly fine from here. There's even a bench."

"Oh."

"Chickens**t for brains," Bob said disgusted because he knew Troy would never go into the shop.

"I am not," Troy spread his legs. "Just wondered. I ain't afraid of going into some old f***ing shop and sitting my ass down for a few minutes."

"Good. Remember the deal. You have to wait until it's your turn before you dash out."

"Yeah, yeah, I remember." That part Troy was not so sure about. It was the bit that was a problem. He knew he could withstand some stares and even some rude comments, but to wait until he was "NEXT!" - hmmm. He would have to play that one by ear.

Bob noticed that little Troy was having some difficulty managing the few stairs up into the shop with his tight shorts getting ever tighter. He watched the tiny little ass as it strutted up the stairs and entered the shop - the bell rang with joy - almost like it was surprised.
The long blond hair was like a flag waving behind him, and as usual he had to pull the hair in before the door shut so as not to trap his stud's locks.
Bob smirked.
He couldn't believe he had gotten his friend to go this far.

Troy's eyes scanned the shop as he pushed just a few of the long strands of hair away from one of his eyes. He didn't want his whole face to show. "F***" he thought to himself, but took a hard chair near the window.
He flung his almost waist-length hair out over the back of the chair and spread his legs carefully as he sat.
Ow, he thought and tried to surreptitiously adjust his bulge, the buttons on his shorts were in the wrong place for his current condition.
The barber looked over at the boy and smiled.
Troy tried to smile back, but he knew it came out wrong. He was terrified to be in the barber shop.
Why was he here?
His head told him to LEAVE NOW. He almost stood up to go, but the brain lower down on his anatomy made him stay.
F***

The red barber chair shone with chrome around it and the man sitting in the chair was getting a trim of what was left of his hair. There was not much. When he was done he would have a bit of a combover.

Troy couldn't believe the dork. Why didn't he just give up and buy a wig or something. Nobody wanted to go around looking like that, surely.
He smiled an evil grin to himself.

There were two more customers waiting. They both looked at him when he came in and stopped their conversation.
He could see that they immediately hated his long hair and his style. He didn't care because he knew he was better than all of them put together.
Troy sat. He could barely watch the "haircut" because there was so little hair, so he picked up a magazine and tried to focus on is. With his head bent down, he had to keep pulling long strands of hair back from the magazine.
He could hear the men whispering about how they would never let their son look like that. What a mess. Where is his father? Why the hell would he not drag the whimpering whelp into a barber shop years ago and clean him up? Must be spoiled.
Needed a good swat up against those tight shorts and a haircut.
It didn't all come at once, but those were the bits that Troy heard and held onto because his cock was eating it up and getting more and more excited. He was afraid he might have trouble keeping his little head concealed. It was trying to escape. Not only that but its brain kept yelling at him to stay and consider getting into the chair.

WHAT! Troy thought and asked his pants at the same time. What the f*** was that thought. He couldn't believe he, Troy, the dude with 'tude and the longest f***ing hair around would ever even think such a thought.

As the second man had his flattop flattened a little more, Troy was sweating. He almost never sweat. He was always cool, he'd say when people asked. He didn't get flustered. He didn't give a s**t. But here he was sweating and feeling frustrated by the fight between his head brain and hot-rod brain.
He watched the flattop and was disgusted. He was happy that at least he wasn't changed so much to enjoy such a disaster.

One more man before he would be "NEXT!"
Troy actually jumped a little, but it was the other man's turn still. He thought he better leave now. What would happen when it was actually his turn? He tried to move but his long lean legs would not respond.
Why?
He realized that the hot-rod had extended so much that his shorts were practically cutting off his circulation, but also it was commanding him to stay. Like a f***ing dog! "STAY Boy."
No matter how hard the young man tried to move, his dick forced him back into the chair.
He couldn't believe it.

Like all the men before and probably for years, the guy in the chair had an ultra short haircut. Troy cringed at the thought.
His red tanktop was wet from nervous sweating as he waited his turn. Some of his ultra-long blond hair was sticking to him on his face and getting caught up in his armpits. He had to keep shifting his hair and trying to air it out.
Still, he could not move to escape. His eyes were transfixed on the dude in the chair.

Finally, the man left and the barber looked down over his glasses at Troy.
"Come on up, son," he said.

Troy thought he would vomit. To his surprise, he had no problem standing up, though he did have to reach between his legs and make a few adjustments. His face turning beet red as a couple of customers had come in after him now and were just as disgusted with his long hair as the previous ones.
Scrawny little asshole needs to be taught a lesson. Well, maybe he's here for a haircut. Yeah, right That will be the day.

Troy knew he was supposed to be leaving the shop now. Strangely, his lean legs moved toward the chair. What the f*** am I doing?
"Come on up," the barber slapped the seat of the chair. Troy's face flushed. He felt like a little boy.

"I...I ..I don't have much time," he tried. He thought his voice sounded like he was five years old.

"No problem," the barber said gently. "So you want it short," he said.

Troy's head brain was barely a whisper now. His cock was leading him toward the chair. "Yeah, I don't have much time. It will have to be short."

The barber smiled, "No problem."

Troy could not believe himself climing into the red barber chair. The leather felt cool on his legs even though another dude had just been up here. Of course, he hadn't been half naked like Troy with his teeny tiny tight shorts and tanktop.
The chair felt like it swallowed him.

Bob was watching from outside with his mouth dropped open.

The barber combed through Troys long hair, spraying it with some water. The hair came down to his waist when dampened, so it was an awesome sight to behold.
He truly did look a little like Cousin It with the hair combed in front of his face.
Troy smiled. The cocky little dude was so proud of the length of his hair - the time it took to grow - the battles to keep it - the struggle to keep the hair in good shape and still growing longer yet.
His goal was below his ass and in a few years he would reach it.
His smile got bigger as he looked int he giant mirror, forgetting where he was.

The barber saw how happy the boy was to be in the chair - finally.
He smiled back, "You are short on time, right. So it will have to be short."

"Yeah, dude, I already told you that" Troy said smugly. What stupid f***s these old people were with short hair. He couldn't believe it.
Troy said, "Just a tiny trim." Just as another couple of customers came in and the bell rang and they were having some sort of argument. Well, turns out they were not arguing but they were half deaf and had to yell to hear each other.

The barber said, "My name's Bob. Now just sit back and relax."

The young stud smirked at that. Well, he would be somewhat relaxed but their might be a stain on the fancy barber chair by the time he was done. Now he knew what his cock was trying to do. It was trying to get him to challenge himself to the extreme. He would have tons of wanking sessions after this episode.
Stupid f***ing barber will have to clean up.

The barber came behind the boy and gently lifted the soft wafts of silken blondness. In a way, he thought....
The scissors entered the hair and began to trim. They sliced throught the hair like a hot knife through butter - no resistance whatsoever. The hair gave way and fell to the floor.
Watching a couple of feet of hair fall was astounding. The barber smiled as the scissors continued their path of distruction across the young stud's pride and joy.
Troy was none the wiser - yet.
He could hear the scissors but did not know what he should be hearing.
The trim would take a little time afterall, he had a lot of hair. He smirked.

The hair in the back had been reduced to just below his thin shoulders. The other customers were quiet now as they watched this major transformation.
Troy was so hard he could hardly think at all.

"I just have to clean it up," the barber said. "I'll start at the back."

Troy thought, what a dick. He has already started at the back. What a dumb ass shorthair. But he couldn't speak at the moment, his hand was busy under the cap and he was almost blacked out from excitement.

The barber clippers came up the back of his head with speed. Not only were they large and powerful, but the barber knew the lad was in a hurry - and he was a professional.
The snowfall of long blondness was amazing, but even more incredible was the closeness of the cut to the back of the young boy's head. The blondness gone, just white skin shone - almost bald.

Troy felt the cold metal on the second pass and moved. When he did a few of the just past shoulder length hairs fell over his shoulder and he tried to scream.
"Where's my f***ing long hair!" But nothing came out but a squeak than nobody could hear over the clippers.
"Stop, where is my f***ing long hair! My hair is way longer than this!"
Still nothing but another wee squeak.
His penis brain was still defying him. Despite - or rather - because of his fear the boner got even harder if that was possible. He could feel the heat eminating from his tiny shorts and knew that the lightening rod had escaped under the cape.

The barber continued to sweep up the boys neck and head to the top. All the almost waist-length hair at the back had been reduced to a fine stubble. Because it was very blond, the paths looked devoid of hair at all.

The other customers looked on in awe. They knew they were witnessing the depunking of a longhaired dude. They could see the tears in the mirror, but the barber had not noticed them yet.

The barber combed the long bangs down over Troy's face. They hung well down past his chin. Now they looked totally out of place with the back and top shorn to nothing and then suddenly these long silken strands cascading over the boy's face.

"I just need to finish the top and front and you'll be done," the barber said cheerfully while the clippers were off.
"I know, I know, you probably want this to be over quickly, don't you?"

Troy tried to say - what the f*** have you done. But when he spoke his voice squeaked "Yes."

The barber wasted no time. The clippers jumped to life and he placed them in the centre of the young punk's head and drove them to his forehead.
Years and years of long blond hair fell to the cape and to the floor. Thousands of hours of tended hair. Hundreds of dollars of hair care products. Years of fighting to be a longhair were reduced to stubble within a few moments.
The fall of hair filled the cape and litttered the floor.
The barber walked on the proud stud's long blond hair as if it were trash - which now it was.
Detached from the whimpering boy's head, the hair was nothing but garbage. Many thought it was garbage long before.

The barber finally noticed the tears coming down the boys cheeks. Troy saw himself in the mirror and suddenly burst into full out sobbing. His head looked like a tiny pin on top of his bony shoulders now. The coolness long gone with the long hair. He was skinny and his ears pokes out like signals to land a plane.
Crying did not make him look more studly.

"Now, now," the barber said gently. "I know it is a big change, son. But you will get used to it."

He continued to pass the clippers over Troy's head until only a whisper of hair remained. The sobs grew louder and a couple of the customers laughed at the young man's distress.
Surely, he was old enough to tolerate a haircut. He'd always strutted around town and mouthed off at everyone that he was the man - the dude with 'tude.
Not much 'tude being shown now.

The barber removed the cape and Troy came down out of the chair with a struggle. Luckily, he had got his other pride and joy back in his shorts, but the chair was a bit of a mess - as well as the front of his shorts.
His face was beet red.
Suddenly, he realized that his head was also beet red!

How could this have happened to HIM.

His head felt so light, he thought he would fly away - or faint.

The barber asked for payment, but the boy with 'tude was returning a little.

"F*** you!" He yelled but was still crying and wiping his snotnose at the same time - just like a five year old spoiled brat.

The barber just laughed. "Okay, son. This one is on me." He slapped Troy's ass hard. The boy felt it through his threadbare wee shorts that were full of holes, and he couldn't believe the nerve, but he had to get out of that shop.

When he went outside, he was not sweating anymore. The wind flew past his ears - cold. His head felt naked and a chill ran over him. As he turned to look at the plate glass window and saw his reflection, his burst into tears again. and sobbed like a baby.
"My beautiful long blond hair. My f***ing long hair!"



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