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Luke learns to love chemistry class by Manny
Luke had grown up a protected, spoiled child. Indulged by his father, coddled by his mother....an only child who was also fawned over by all the girls and admired by all the boys in his class. Of course, he'd always been the teachers' pet.
Well, most of the teachers were enamored by him. Only Mr. Jenkins, the stern chemistry teacher, had it out for Luke. He made no effort to hide his disdain for "pretty boy" Luke with his expensive clothes and dreamy stylized hair.
Mr. Jenkins was a large, beefy man whose huge waist surpassed sixty inches. Adding to his menacing look was the immaculate flattop he sported. Dense hair with a pelt that stood over an inch high and always perfectly level on top. Sometimes the sides were skinned and sometimes Mr. Jenkins would allow some length. The coronet of hair on top made Mr. Jenkins look even taller than his 6'3" height. With his menacing appearance, Mr. Jenkins ran chemistry class like a boot camp drill sergeant.
From the start of the school year, Luke dreaded chemistry because Mr. Jenkins mercilessly teased and ridiculed him publicly.
"Go put a smock on, Luke. We wouldn't want those expensive clothes of yours ruined. I can just imagine getting a threatening letter from your father if that nice blouse of yours -- is it a Gucci? -- should get damaged by the chemicals we'll use in our experiment today. Oh, and while your back there, put on a hair net as well! We wouldn't want our golden boy's precious tresses damaged by the toxic fumes."
As the year progressed, Luke stopped up trying to resist Mr. Jenkins' bullying. He scurried to quickly comply even though he felt ridiculous being the only student in the class sporting a hair net and lab smock. He found being submissive to Mr. Jenkins curiously enjoyable.
Inevitably, Mr. Jenkins would have to 'straighten' something out after Luke donned the smock and hair net. "Oh, there's a lock of your hair poking out, Luke. Let me fix it." His towering frame and the required manipulation of Luke's hair made the ensnared lad feel vulnerable, helpless....and aroused.
Eventually, Luke began to look forward to chemistry class and thrive in the spotlight of his teacher's toxic attention. Luke also began to fantasize and even dream about Mr. Jenkins exerting control over him. The thought of Mr. Jenkins taking a paddle to his rear in front of the class -- wrenching down his pants and making him lean over a stool -- stimulated him wildly. He envisioned all his classmates watching on as the paddle smacked his pampered posterior!
His most exhilarating and enduring fantasy, however, was of Mr. Jenkins marching him into his barber shop and instructing an old geezer barber to "cut his hair just like mine." Sitting helplessly on the large barber throne, Luke imagined himself watching helplessly as his thick blond hair (that was styled into the feathered back look of the day) fell in torrents to the cape.
Toward the end of the school year, Luke decided to push the envelope with Mr. Jenkins and seek him out privately after school. He didn't know what he would say. He just wanted to go into the chemistry lab and engage in some sort of conversation. Luke was curious to know if Mr. Jenkins would treat him differently if they weren't in front of the class.
Luke timidly pushed the door open. Mr. Jenkins looked up from the paper he was grading. He had on a pair of reading glasses -- heavy black plastic frames that made him look even more severe.
"Excuse me, Mr. Jenkins," Luke stammered, forcing the words out of his constricted throat.
"What is it?" Mr. Jenkins replied in a curt, business-like tone.
"Do you have a minute, sir?" Luke continued, his courage swelling in him. He closed the door behind him and walked toward the teacher's desk before receiving a reply.
"Well, I do happen to have a minute, since you've decided that for me. So, what is it?" Mr. Jenkins asked, taking off his classes and giving Luke a scrutinizing once-over.
Luke panicked. He still did not know what the conversation would be about. He assumed he would ask a chemistry-related question...but he couldn't even think of one.
"I, uh, I, um...was wondering," Luke's nervousness was apparent. "I'm writing an essay for English and would like to interview you."
Mr. Jenkins smiled broadly and leaned back in his chair. "I think I could help your with that."
Luke's mind raced. The obvious questions would be about chemistry or teaching, but standing there, staring at Mr. Jenkins' flattop, made him blurt out something quite different.
"Your hair, sir. How long have you been wearing a flattop? And tell me about your decision to go for the change in haircuts," Luke said.
Mr. Jenkins' face expressed surprise and his hand instinctively rubbed the stubble up the back. "My flattop?!" he exclaimed. "Oh, ever since I was about your age. I was a pudgy boy in high school. Struggled with my weight all my life. A few of the popular boys had cut off their slicked back pomps and gone flat -- this was in the early 1960s. I thought a flattop might make me look thinner and like I was one of the 'in' crowd."
Then Mr. Jenkins' threw Luke a curve ball. "Do you like it?"
Luke stammered and squirmed. He gulped and blurted out the truth. "Yes, I've always admired it. In fact, I've thought about...." His voice trailed off.
Mr. Jenkins finished the thought. "You've thought about asking me to take you to my barber shop. Haven't you? Get a flattop just like mine." The large man rose from his chair and came around to the front of the desk where Luke was. "A lot of this pretty blond hair will come off, Luke," the teacher said as he stroked the silken, shaggy locks.
"Yes, sir," Luke admitted quietly. "I know. Your flattop is so amazing. I have trouble watching the lab experiment -- my eyes keep focusing on your flattop."
"There's no English essay, is there?" Mr. Jenkins pressed.
"No, sir. I made it up," Luke replied, his face burning with embarrassment.
"Boys who tell lies need to be disciplined. Back when I first started teaching we were authorized to paddle liars!" Mr. Jenkins remarked. "I should turn you over my knee right now and teach you to tell the truth!"
Luke's cock sprang to life. His other fantasy addressed! "Yes, liars should be punished," Luke admitted. almost begging for a spanking. "I'm sure you are very skilled with the paddle."
"Well, the school board had all the paddles collected from staff back in the permissive 1970s. But, you will get your flattop, nonetheless. On Saturday. 10 a.m. Be at Fred's Barber Shop. Is that clear? On Elm, near the library," Mr. Jenkins snapped. He grasped a shank of Luke's blond hair and gave it a painful tug. "All this fluff is going to be swept up and dumped into the trash can!"
"Yes, sir. I will be there," Luke said, as his cock struggled to mature to its full splendor, constrained by his tight designer jeans.
Mr. Jenkins' hand lingered in Luke's glossy mane. "I will have Fred carve out a generous landing strip right up here." Mr. Jenkins grasped the six inch locks and fondled them. "I think this will be the beginning of your transformation from teachers' pet to teacher's pet!"
Luke looked up and smiled tenderly. "Yes, that's exactly what I want." Then he gulped and pressed forward with what he was desperate to say. "You know, I find you extremely handsome. Very sexy, Mr. Jenkins."
"But, I'm so overweight and flabby," the teacher said, revealing his vulnerability.
"I think the ample girth makes you more manly than Michelangelo's David!" Luke explained, slipping his arms around Mr. Jenkins' waist, unable to bring them together no matter how tight the embrace.
Mr. Jenkins blushed. "Oh, you flatter me, Luke!" But he drank in the praise and could not stop smiling.
"I wouldn't want you any other way -- the more of you, the merrier!" Luke said. "I can't wait till our date at Fred's!"
Luke was a bundle of nerves as he walked up to the door of Fred's Barber Shop. He had spotted Mr. Jenkins standing at the entrance as he pulled up. Mr. Jenkins was early -- and he looked impatient, his eyes darting about! Or was Luke late?
Luke hustled up as fast as he could. He caught a glimpse of his nicely feathered hair in the mirror of the shop. It was coming off! Almost all of it.
"So sorry I'm late, Mr. Jenkins," Luke said.
"I thought you might have gotten cold feet," was the teacher's reply. "Now, once we're inside, I don't want any lip from you. Is that understood?"
"Completely! I will do as I'm told. Thank you so much for spending your Saturday morning....." Luke murmured as the Mr. Jenkins swung the door open.
The two men walked into the harsh glow of neon. "I've got a special project for you this morning, Fred," Mr. Jenkins said. "Luke here is desperately needing a decent haircut. His mop has gotten so unruly, people have begun mistaking him for a girl.
"Take a seat there, boy!" Fred pointed to one of the large chairs that was unoccupied. "Don't worry, no one will mistake him for a girl once I've taken the clippers to that thatch."
Luke slipped into the chair. He was glad to take a seat because his legs had become almost like jelly.
"Give the pretty boy here a flattop!" Mr. Jenkins instructed. "Lather shaved on the sides and a nice big landing strip on top! Don't be timid with the clippers, Fred. I want my money's worth!"
The huge white cape sailed through the air. "I'll say, that will be some change!" remarked the barber. "This your son?"
"No son of mine would ever have gotten this way, trust me!" laughed Mr. Jenkins. "No, sir!"
The barber yanked a comb through Luke's locks, making him cringe. A bit of a punishment for having let his hair get so long. "He's got a nice head for a shoe. What do you say I shoe him?"
"Don't want to see the poor lad weeping on his first visit to the barber shop," Mr. Jenkins chuckled.
Fred reached for the balding clippers. "These are what the lad needs to start looking like a real man!" He held the instrument up menacingly.
Luke cringed and instinctively recoiled from the clippers.
Mr. Jenkins took a bit of pity on the nervous boy. "Perhaps we should go a bit easy on him the first time. Leave a little length -- still flat, but not skinned."
"If that's what you want," Fred replied.
"Yes, a plush, high top; cut his hair to my length," Mr. Jenkins said. The chemistry teacher took a moment to examine his neat top in the mirror.
"Where will the planes land?" the barber joked. Without another work, the clippers sprang to life and Fred peeled away the first layer of padding. Luke watched in fascination as his blond hair fell to the cape with an almost audible thud. Mr. Jenkins smiled on in an approving manner. His chubby face looked so handsome, Luke thought to himself.
The second swipe of the clippers did a lot more damage. It was no turning back! Luke suddenly panicked about what everyone at school would say when they saw him clipped down like Mr. Jenkins.
Fred was like a maniac with the throbbing machine, plowing through the blond thatch, sending swaths of hair to the cape. The barber's grip was firm as he pushed the lad's head around to get a better angle. At one point, Luke's head was shoved so low his chin almost touched his chest!
Luke felt grateful that Mr. Jenkins had ordered him to report to the barbershop. He was happy to see his trendy hair style being obliterated. Being made submissive to authority suited him so much better than being catered to and pampered. As he sat in the chair, he longed to feel Mr. Jenkins' paddle, to be disciplined by the authoritarian chemistry master.
Once the sides were nothing but fine stubble, the barber turned his attention to the thatch on top. He took the shears and began lopping off the length. "I still think the boy would turn out very nicely with a shoe. In fact, perhaps this is the day you too get shoed, Grady Jenkins! You know how long I've been itching to plunge my clippers through that fussy top of yours!"
Luke watched Mr. Jenkins squirm in the chair in the waiting area. He liked it that his teacher was feeling noticeably uncomfortable.
"You know what I've told you, Fred. The plush top gives me a little extra height -- lengthens my fat face somewhat," Mr. Jenkins stammered.
Luke gripped the arms of the barber chair as he prepared to take control of his destiny. "Fred, shoe me! Go ahead. We're both leaving here with shoes today -- Mr. Jenkins and me!"
"You heard the boy," Fred said, staring at the seated, scared overweight teacher. "Shoes for both of you!"
The barber plunged the clippers right into that mass of blond hair. Luke watched as the remnants of his 70's feathered hairstyle fell away in the wake of the chattering teeth. Shorter and shorter the barber clipped him, until there was virtually nothing left except a wonderfully shaped head and a tiara of hair.
"I like it," Luke beamed as the cape came off. He glanced at the carpeting of blond locks around the chair. He felt manly and empowered.
Luke strolled over to Mr. Jenkins and ordered him, "Your turn. To the chair, now! You're getting shoed, Grady!"
Mr. Jenkins stood and was escorted to the chair. The large man was so submissive as the cape was cast.
Luke fingered the plush top. "I always wanted to do this. So soft and silken. But it's coming off. Most of it."
"Step aside, son!" Fred commanded.
The trio watched in awe as Fred's clippers plowed across the top of Mr. Jenkins' head. His top was coming off!
As he watched Mr. Jenkins get shoed, Luke imagined himself taking the paddle to Grady Jenkins -- yes, in front of the whole chemistry class! Wrestling off the slacks from the amazingly large waist and them leaning the corpulent chemistry teacher over a stool. THWACK! The first strike of the paddle would ring out with a fierce shriek.