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Sam submits to a new barber by Manny


Sam tossed in bed all night long. He could not stop recalling his afternoon at OCMA where he'd dropped off his nephew for the new school year. In-processing, they called it. The boys standing in line outside the barber shop, all nervous and antsy....then watching them come out giggling, feeling the stubble and quite transformed.

And then there was the handsome barber, Dean Short, who he briefly chatted with as he snapped a few photos of his nephew's transformation from slacker to cadet. Dean sported a slightly-grown out butch that did not detract from his sparking blue eyes and toothy grin.

"I can tell you're itching to take a seat yourself," the barber joked. "Sorry, but today it's just the boys. Come back in the morning, though. I open at 9:00."

Of course it was a joke! But Sam could not stop thinking about the joke becoming reality.

- 'No, you need to hit the road right away. Even if you leave at 8:30, you'll still be late to the office.'

- 'You already checked your schedule. Nothing important going on. And, you're the boss. Arrive late. You know you're itching to slip into that big barber chair, just like Barber Dean said.'

- 'I couldn't possibly get a butch like the boys! I'm an executive. I need a carefully groomed executive style.'

- 'The hell you do! At 9:00 a.m. sharp, you'll be pushing open the door to Mr. Short's Barber Shop.'

Sam felt very conflicted as he fumbled with the food from the hotel breakfast buffet. He ran his fingers through his thick, plush mane of chestnut hair. It did feel rather long in back -- and well below mid-collar where his stylist normally kept it trimmed. Why not? Just a quick trim at Mr. Short's? That settled it! He would see the handsome barber again.

Sam's felt as nervous as the boys probably had, walking towards the barber shop. The light was on inside, and he could see some movement. He pushed the door open and heard a bell tinkle. However, once inside, the shop seemed empty.

As he stepped in, he got a full view of himself in his nice charcoal grey suit, white shirt and tie with pink and grey stripes. His hair looked perfect! There was no need for a trim.

The barber emerged from the back room. "Ah, you're back! So, I was right. I sensed you were just itching to take a seat as you snapped those photos...right here, then. The shop is open for business." Dean patted the red upholstered seat invitingly.

"Yes, I'm back. But just for a trim," Sam said, trying to sound casual. He quickly mounted the metal foot rest and eased into the big barber chair.

"A trim?" the barber commented skeptically as he surveyed the plush locks that Sam wore brushed straight back from his handsome face. He cast the big pin stripped cape he'd used on the boys. Sam squirmed nervously in the chair. He felt like one of them....even though he was just there for a trim.

"Do you mind if I snap a few before and after shots? It's a standard practice with my OCMA clients," Dean said.

"Well, I'm not exactly an OCMA cadet!" Sam exclaimed. "But sure, why not."

The barber took out a camera and recorded the 'before' look just like he'd done with the boys. The routine made Sam feel quite anxious. Like he was in the pipeline for an induction baldy cut!

The barber took a comb and began working in back through the dense locks, smoothing it down a bit with his hand. His eyes twinkled with delight. "You know you're not here for a trim....uh, Mr., uh...."

"Sam, you can call me Sam, sir," the caped client replied. His eyes darted to the line of huge clippers hanging within the barber's reach at the bottom of the counter. His mouth felt dry.

The barber reached for a set of Oster's. The balding clippers he used for the boys' in-processing haircuts. Dean took delight in handling the big black machine in plain site of Sam's anxious gaze.

"I did say a trim...." Sam said in a breathy, constrained voice. The words came out haltingly, almost uncooperatively.

Barber Dean flashed his toothy smile. He swiveled the chair away from the mirror. Sam knew he had lost control of the situation.

Dean's eyes twinkled as he snapped the machine on.

"Yes, that's what you said. But what you want is a butch cut! All this pretty hair to the cape, just like the boys. Isn't that so?" the barber insisted.

Sam sat in stunned submission. He knew all along this is where things would end up. His mouth felt dry. The barber knew the truth.

"Yes...a butch cut," was all he could eek out in a meek, thin voice.

Dean pushed Sam's head forward so that he was made to stare at the cape. Sam's thick forelock tumbled down in front of his eyes. The barber's grip on his submissive client's head was firm. Sam, in turn, gripped the arms of the chair as he awaited the clippers.

A shriek filled the barber shop as the Oster's plowed up through the nape. A jolt of energy shot through Sam's body. The vibration on his sensitive scalp was electrifying. His transformation had begun!

"Just like one of the cadets," Dean chuckled as he flicked the first wad of shiny chestnut hair so that it landed squarely on Sam's lap. The vision of the soft clump of hair lying still in his lap made his stomach churn with anxious anticipation. He thought about the moment when he'd look up ad see himself clipped down to a tidy stubble.

The next drive of the clippers went tightly up the back of Sam's head, plowing through the top of Sam's head where his hair was the longest, and finally pushing off an immense load of shorn locks (including the mighty forelock) to the awaiting cape below. With the copious addition, the pile of hair in Sam's lap quadrupled in size.

"Goodbye endless hours of fussing each morning with hair care," the barber announced. "You won't have that mop flouncing about when you prance into the office this morning, will you!"

The office! OMG!!! What would everyone say?! Sam's panic went into turbo drive. People snickering and chattering behind his back. 'The boss got a baldy cut!' they would giggle in sneering tones.

Sam's attention was diverted by Dean beginning to tackle the side of his head. He carefully folded Sam's ear down to clear away the soft hair that usually had been carefully brushed back, just lapping the very top of his ear. Then, his manly sideburn was removed. Sam mentally charted the divestiture in his head. He was now half bald!

"So you put your son into OCMA. Was he causing problems at home? It's a good place for unruly and rebellious kids," the barber said

"My nephew, actually. After his father passed he became, well, uh, just as you described...I guess, unruly more than rebellious."

The barber pushed another massive load of hair off the top of Sam's had. He was beginning to feel downright naked.

"Do you often get the fathers, uh, men, afterwards, coming in....like me?" Sam asked curiously.

"More often than you think. I can usually tell, though, who will be in this chair the next day. You were totally obvious!" Dean laughed. "And, as I watched you snapping photos of your nephew I thought the butch would suit you! Nice head shape, gorgeous green eyes and those full, pouty lips will be on display without all that hair distracting."

Sam stifled a strong desire to pucker up this lips.

"Your butch looks like it needs a bit of tidying up...." Sam suggested, with a timid, halting voice.

"You think? I'm looking for a good barber. One with a strong, firm hand," Dean cooed back.

Sam watched the mass of hair in his lap stir as the flirtation sent his cock into overdrive.

"Take care of your little pet down there," Dean laughed.

Then the barber shop fell into silence, except for the buzzing clippers than quickly reduced the rest of Sam's head to stubble. After Dean snapped off the Oster's and hung them back on their hook, silence reigned.

"Ready?" the barber asked. "The new you...."

Very slowly he swiveled the chair around.

Sam's stomach churned as his streamlined look materialized in the mirror. A baldy cut! He looked like a boy. Sam smiled shyly.

"Well, what do you think?" Dean asked.

Sam reached his hand out from under the cape and touched his stubble lightly. Then he rubbed it more vigorously. "I love the feel."

"But what about how you look?" the barber insisted.

Sam gulped nervously. The fact was he felt very vulnerable and puny without his executive helmet hair. He looked down into his lap. There it all lay! Lifeless and dead. His pretty chestnut locks.

"Missing it already?" the barber chuckled. "Ready for the 'after' shots? Hold that pose right there -- the mournful, 'what have I done?' look as you stare down at your lap full of cut hair!"

After taking a few more snaps from different angles, the barber spoke again, "Oh, cheer up, chum! I think you look handsome like this?" He fondled the stubble.

"If only he would...." Sam thought to himself.

But instead, the barber turned to unfastening the huge metal clip that kept the cape in place. Slowly he pulled away the cape.

As the pinstriped cloth was removed, something came into view. The suit! The tie!! The office!!! He would have to face the jokes and jabs.

Sam's legs felt like jelly as he stood. At his feet lay his shorn hair, scattered around the checked linoleum floor of Mr. Short's Barber Shop.

He looked at himself again in the mirror, gave his clipped pate another rub and threw his shoulders back. Suddenly Sam felt a bit authoritative and commanding.

"So you like the baldy cut?" he asked the barber.

"Very much. It suits you. I hope you let me keep you clipped down tightly like this...." Dean said. His eyes blazed with desire.

"You wouldn't be in a hurry, I hope..." the barber murmured. Now it was the Dean's turn to feel awkward and shy. He shuffled nervously on his feet.

Sam reached out to stroke the barber's soft pelt. "Come on, your turn in the chair. How hard can this be?"

Instead the barber turned toward his back room. "Back here. There's a chair....and a lot more privacy." He took Sam by the hand and pulled aside the curtain....





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