Hansi-Lo's tail tale by Manny

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I could no longer resist the urge to grasp Hansi-Lo Chung by the thick tail of jet black, silken hair that ran down the length of his back. It was a mammoth collection of the softest, shiniest strands of Asian locks that Hansi-Lo seemed always eager to flaunt. He was in the habit of flicking his head so that the raven tail would sway from side to side like the pendulum of a grandfather clock.

As I watched him, I determined that Hansi-Lo had benefited sufficiently from my generosity, charm and attention. Now the time had come for him to pay up. To pay dearly! I would claim his tail.

As Hansi-Lo cozied up to me in my kitchen, I suddenly gave into my urge and grasped his tail at the nape. It was so thick! My hand could barely encircle the follicle mass at its base as I gave it a firm tug. Hansi-Lo stifled a shriek, which had been prompted by the authoritarian yank I delivered. I needed to reinforce his status as the subservient, dependent boy-toy who would cater to my whims and fancies.

"This is quite an enormous tail, Hansi-Lo," I cooed in his ear. "I've long wanted to take possession of it."

"It's here for your pleasure and enjoyment," Hansi-Lo murmured back, fluttering his eye lids as he coped to stifle the discomfort of being subdued by his tail in an unforgiving grip. I felt so much pleasure in beginning my plan for the obliteration of Hansi-Lo’s tail and stage two in his relationship with me. It would be good-bye to the indulged and pampered lover boy. And, hello to the submissive, subservient minion.

Part of the fun in coddling him and giving him everything he wanted was knowing that the day would come when it would end dramatically!

As my hand grasped the thick tail I filled in some details.

"Last night at the party, so many people had their eyes on this, Hansi-Lo," I continued. "Your tail was quite an attention seeker for both men and women. There were the admirers, like always â€" the wonderful volume and sheen. But, I started hearing a little pandemic-induced panic. In China they’ve begun shaving the heads of all who may have come in contact with the virus because these follicles are a veritable playground for it," I said.

"But, I haven’t been anywhere near China for over a year," Hansi-Lo stammered.

"Still, I have my friends’ concern to think about. And, furthermore, I've decided that I want the tail for my own, exclusive pleasure." I fondled the length of the long rope of hair and then released my grip and let the locks flow freely down Hansi-Lo's back.

"Shall I pin it up in a man-bun?" Hansi-Lo asked. "Or, perhaps, tuck it under a cap of some sort? Then, only you will have the pleasure of seeing it in its full length, in the privacy of our apartment."

Poor Hansi-Lo. He had no idea! I relished knowing what lay in store for him and his tail while he remained innocent of its fate. I had never intimated to Hansi-Lo my secret pleasure in administering extreme makeovers to pretty boys with long, soft hair.

Without replying, I opened the pantry and took out a kit and set it on the table. Then I pulled out a chair. "Come sit over here, Hansi-Lo. I have another plan for concealing your beautiful tail from unwelcome glances and stares."

Hansi-Lo approached the kit like a curious cat. First, I pulled out a neatly folded cloth square. I was a snowy white. Some piping was visible in one corner, as well as a metal snap.

"What is that for?" Hansi-Lo inquired. "Are you going to take me on a picnic?"

"No, but we can still have a good time and create a lot of memories. Have a seat here, and I will show you," I replied.

He hesitated and watched me pull out a set of electric hair clippers. I held them up like a hunting weapon. "Now do you understand my plan for your tail?"

Hansi-Lo stared in disbelief. An ashen tone enveloped his face.

"I am taking it completely off! The whole thing. Right at the nape. Your tail will be kept safely at home for me. I alone will enjoy and admire it," I explained in a rather pedantic manner.

Hansi-Lo could not stifle his anguish. "Take off my tail?!" he gasped.

"Yes, now sit! Be obedient and do as I instruct. I soon will be the sole possessor of your magnificent tail." I surveyed the thick mane, eager to take the metal teeth of the clippers to the base of the tail near Hansi-Lo's sturdy scrunchy.

Hansi-Lo hesitated, and so I grabbed him by the tail and wrenched it forcefully. There was no more doubt as to who would call the shots as I pulled him into a seated position on the kitchen chair.

Hansi-Lo began weeping softly. "Please, sir....it is my pride."

"Yes, I know. A Chinaman's queue traditionally has been his pride." The tears and weeping would not deter me. They only added to the excitement of the moment. I pulled the white cape over Hansi-Lo's torso and fastened it snugly around his vulnerable neck. He sat submissively and did not resist. I was so proud of Hansi-Lo because I knew the loss of his tail would be a huge blow to him.

"You do want to please me, no matter the cost, don't you sweet little Hansi-Lo?" I cooed in his ear.

He affirmed with a silent nod.

The jet black tail looked even more lush and shiny, streaming down the pristine cloth cape. I began to fondle the silken strands, caressing Hansi-Lo’s lengthy locks.

"I'm glad you like my tail, sir," he murmured. He relished the tender strokes that I lavished on it. "Perhaps your threat to cut it off is just to test me and my loyalty to you. Perhaps to play with my emotions and watch me fret." He glanced at me with a hopeful look. "You are a kind man and will not take my...."

"Have you ever heard the expression, 'too much of a good thing,' Hansi-Lo?" I asked.

"Yes, I believe so," replied Hansi.

I plugged in the clippers and brandished them in front of his almond eyes. "Your tail attracts too much attention from others. I am a very jealous man. And now there’s the fear of the pandemic. So, your tail must be dealt with, Hansi-Lo," I stated, with a glimmer in my eye. "You will be submissive in the chair as I take your tail off -- clippers to the nape."

I imagined lifting off the tail and holding the severed mass up for Hansi-Lo to see for the first time, unattached.

I took the end of the tail in one hand and pulled it straight up, forcing Hansi-Lo's head to bow in a prayerful posture. His lips mouthed something unintelligible.

I snapped on the clippers and the teeth wailed out an alert.

Hansi-Lo tensed up. He closed his eyes, hoping to obliterate the awful reality that was about to afflict him.

Then I rested the vibrating machine on his neck, with the teeth poised right below the hairline at the nape.

A shiver went down Hansi-Lo's spine and made him wince in silence.

"This will not hurt, Hansi-Lo. Perhaps your pride, a bit. But when you see my happy face at the end of it, I know you will ultimately feel happy too."

"Yes, sir," he eked out. "I am ready to surrender my tail to you, for your pleasure, sir."

And then the assault on Hansi-Lo's tail began! A SHRIEK emanated from the teeth as they plowed into the strands of shimmering ebony. I pushed the clippers hard, but the tail resisted fiercely. Hansi-Lo cringed in terror and instinctively tried to dodge the clipper assault. I pushed the machine further into the collected mass of hair at the nape. Only about a fourth of it had been severed. Hansi-Lo's tail clung on with a fierce resistance. I pulled the machine back from the fray momentarily and surveyed the status of the still-attached tail.

"Your tail, Hansi-Lo, is quite stubborn. It doesn't want to leave you!" I laughed.

"Then let it be, sir," he pleaded.

His answer was swift. The clippers were thrust back into the mass of jet black hair. This time I pushed with forceful determination. The progress through the base of the tail was surprisingly quick. Within instants, punctuated by shrieks of the clippers, the once proud, stubborn tail surrendered!

I pulled the dangling rope of hair away from Hansi-Lo's bowed head. Almost three feet of beautiful hair danced in the neon light of the kitchen.

Simultaneously a mass of chin-length hair cascaded about Hansi-Lo's face, veiling his sadness. I hear muffled sobs. After tossing the cut tail onto the kitchen table, I stroked the buzzed nape tenderly.

"I love the way this feels, Hansi-Lo," I cooed in his ear. I gently pushed the thick black hair away from his face and tucked a mass of it behind his ear. "Your naked nape looks and feels so inviting."

His face looked stunned, almost shell-shocked from the unwelcome divestiture. But, to his credit, Hansi-Lo remained submissive and accepting of his fate.

Finally, Hansi-Lo reached out from under the cape and felt his clipped nape. He offered a shy, half-smile. Then he eyed the cut tail, looking so lonely and lifeless on the table. It would never dangle in a tantalizing manner again at a party. But he still had quite a mane of long, chin-length hair to flaunt. Hansi-Lo continued feeling his clipped nape. He felt strangely liberated from the heavy tail that had always hung from there.

Hansi-Lo's grin widened to a shy smile. "I like the way this clipped part feels," he admitted.

I gave him a big hug. "I knew it, Hansi-Lo! Aren't I you glad I’ve become your barber?"

"You have such a big, powerful machine, sir," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Nothing could stop the power of its progress. My tail quickly surrendered to its strength and determination. And, in the end, the vibration at my nape felt so wonderful."

"You can't get enough of your clipped nape, can you?" I replied, snapping the clippers back on. I pushed his head forward, so far that Hansi-Lo's chin almost touched his chest.

The clippers retraced their path at the nape, repeatedly. Each time I cleared away the growth a little higher until the bottom third of his head up the back was just clipped stubble.

"You want to take off more than just my tail?" Hansi-Lo asked with a panicked voice as he remained prostrate for the clipping at the back of his head.

"Oh, yes, I want to give you a very pert combination of long and short. You will have ample opportunity to feel a closely clipped scalp and you will also have a mass of shiny locks to stroke and enjoy."

I stopped the clipping momentarily and opened one of the kitchen cabinets. I took out a metal mixing bowl. "What is this, Hansi-Lo?" I asked him.

"Why, it’s a mixing bowl, sir?" He replied, unaware of where the discussion was going.

Then I went to the fridge and pulled out a cartoon of mushrooms. I selected one with a perfectly formed cap, popped it off the stem and held it up. "And, what is this?"

"Why, sir, it is a mushroom cap!" he noted.

"Oh, Hansi-Lo, you are so innocent! You have no idea what these two items mean with regard to you. Perhaps you are too young to have lived through that era....." I thought back to my childhood and the huge bowl of chestnut colored hair I sported that displayed my fiery auburn highlights magnificently. My mother had been so proud of my mushroom-cap bi-level bowl cut the day she first brought me home from the salon. My father flew into a rage and threatened to shave me bald, but he was impotent to carry out his taunts. The bowlcut was with me through my senior year in high school when the cut suddenly went out of style and my friends mocked me for it. After that, I tended to wear my chestnut locks in a longish businesscut accessorized by an enormous handlebar mustache that dominated my face.

"I am going to give you a mushroom cap bowlcut! Oh, Hansi-Lo, you will look adorable! A grown man sporting a lush bowl of hair that shimmers as it ranges from coal black to ebony with near marine highlights! And the scalp all the way up to the crown, shaved to stubble! You will model the glories of a dramatic undercut that will give you a pert, but ambiguous, look. Totally transgender if you follow my description. You will begin to wonder just who you are!" I laughed. "Now sit up straight!" I ordered, reaching for the shears.

Snip, snip, snip. Very carefully, I began snipping a perfectly straight and even border of hair, right below the eyebrow. Snip, snip, snip. Mounds of his beautiful raven hair began piling up on the white cape. Hansi-Lo watched his locks fall while tears welled up in his eyes.

I continued with the shears snipping off the length directly over the ear. More silken black hair piled up on the cape. Hansi-Lo sat very still and was cooperative. Snip, snip, snip. The shears continued around the back, just above the occipital bone. I was loving the job I was doing. Snip, snip, snip. Piles of cut hair accumulated at my feet. The metal blades of the barber shears continued their trajectory above the top of the other ear. Finally, the circle was complete. Snip, snip, snip. The bangs were uniformly shorn the just below the brow. The mushroom back was beginning to take shape!

I snapped back on the clippers. "Now, for the undercut. A zero length on the sides and back all the way to the crown! Remember how much you liked the vibration of the clippers at your nape?"


Hansi-Lo bowed his head submissively. I put my head firmly on the black mushroom cap and steadied his head in a tight grip. Then, very carefully, I began to carve away the stem of the mushroom, removing all the hair from the back and sides of Hansi-Lo’s head. The clippers took off the black locks almost at the scalp.

I paused for a moment and studied the bare nape. Just minutes ago, a thick, gorgeous tail of hair had hung from it â€" a tail that had stream down all the way to his waist. Now the tail was displayed on my kitchen table. Nothing but stubble sprang from the naked nape.

"Sit up straight, Hansi-Lo," I chided. "Nice and straight so I can examine you mushroom cap, to make sure it’s perfectly even. Now swish your head about so I can watch the way your locks swirl around. Oh, such perfection!" I beamed at my work. "You look so intriguing. The mushroom cut is so unisex! Now let me take the cape off and we can walk you over to the bathroom so you can see the new you. In German, Hansi is a girl’s name. Perhaps we should put you in a little tent-style dress and start calling you Hansi-Lou!"

As I kidded my little boytoy, he tensed up. I could feel him clench his hands and slow his gait purposefully. I wasn’t used to a passive aggressive, Hansi-Lo! I tried to move him more quickly to the bathroom, but the more I pushed the more he resisted. As we had a mini battle of wills, it occurred to me that Hansi-Lo was actually quite sinewy and strong.

"There!" I announced as I finally got him into the bathroom. "Your new bowlcut! How do you like it Hansi-Lou?"

He grimaced and glared at me in the mirror. I fondled the plush top and then stroked the buzzed nape. I instructed him to flick his head about a bit so I would watch the lush bowl of hair dance in the strong light of the bathroom.

Finally, Hansi-Lo reached a breaking point.

"Excuse me," Hansi-Lo said curtly, pushing his way out of the bathroom. "I’ll be right back, don’t worry."

Within minutes, he returned to the kitchen with a roll of duct tape in his hand. I had already started sweeping up his cut hair from the floor.

"What’s that tape for?" I asked.

"Put down the broom. We’re not finished with haircuts here!" he snapped in a steely, mean voice. "It’s time for your bowlcut!"

The tone of his command and the meanness of his glare struck terror in me.

"My bowlcut?" I stammered. He could not be meaning….

Then he strode over to me, puffed out his chest and ordered, "Sit in the chair!"

"Hansi-Lo, now listen to me!" I snapped trying to act unfazed by his uncharacteristic aggressiveness.

He grabbed me by my fussy businesscut and yanked it hard. "No, YOU listen to ME!"

Before I knew it, his strong arms had subdued me and he had me pinned to the kitchen chair. I watched in horror as he used the duct tape to secure me to it. Round and round my chest he took the unyielding gray tape.

"Do not dare cut my hair!" I commanded from a position of complete helplessness.

Then I saw Hansi-Lo cut a piece of duct tape about five inches long. He brought it toward my mouth.

"My mustache….." gasped as the sticky mess was pressed over my mouth. I continued to try to object.

He pulled the duct tape off with a fury.

"OUCH!!!!" I bellowed. More than a few strands of my beloved stache clung to the tape.

"Not another word from you or I’ll do that again," Hansi-Lo sneered.

I was cowed into compliance and silence.
Hansi-Lo took the shears and snipped the handlebars off my mustache. He let out a peel of laughter. "I have wanted to do that for soooo long! In fact, let’s just cut it all off. Nothing to detract from the mushroom cap you seem to love so much." The snips were very quick and I soon saw most of my mustache on my lap.

Then Hansi-Lo put the cape on me and tightened in a suffocating manner.

He played with my hair. "I have seen you admiring yourself in the mirror as you get dressed each morning. Such nice chestnut colored hair will look fantastic in the same bowlcut you gave me."

I wanted to beg for him to not cut my hair, but I knew it would be to no avail. I found myself okay in submitting to Hansi-Lo’s authority.

He combed my chestnut-colored locks straight down and gave me a gentle peck on the top of my head. My forelock dangled before my eyes. The kitchen neon light enhanced the sheen.

Snip, snip, snip.

Hansi-Lo began fashioning my bowlcut exactly as I has his. Across the forehead, around the top of the ears and occipital bone. And then onto the clippers and the undercut.

As I sat there, my mind returned to my pubescent years when I sported a youthful, lush bowl of hair. How I loved running on the playground and feeling the bowl of hair swish about my heard. My chestnut locks had thinned a bit but still looked remarkably healthy with intensified fiery auburn highlights.

I watched Hansi-Lo exchange the shears for the huge set of Osters. Hansi-Lo took them to the remnants of my mustache and buzzed my upper lip. Then he pushed my head forward and took them to my nape. The next fifteen minutes felt like nirvana, taped to the chair and watching my beautiful hair fall to the cape.

When my bowlcut was complete, Hansi-Lo had us pose for a selfie. We looked adorable with matching bowlcuts.

"I’ll text it to you," he said.

"Where are you going? Hansi-Lo?" I begged.

"I’m leaving you. I’m tired of being your boytoy," he snapped.

"But, I will miss you…." I entreated him. "And I need a good barber to keep my bowlcut in perfect shape."

"If I stay, the terms will be quite different. Are you prepared to making pleasing me your first priority? Happy to do as I tell you?!" Hansi-Lo exclaimed.

"Yes, Hansi-Lo’s wish will be my command!" I replied enthusiastically.

"And the bowlcut on you is non-negotiable. I want to hear about all the sniggering and whispers about it in your office.

Hansi-Lo removed the cape and duct tape.

"As for me….remember that show from the 70’s, Kung Fu? I always admired David Carridine’s egghead," he said, saying with his bowl of hair.

"You want me to take you down to nothing? Chromedome?!" I stammered.

Hansi-Lo sat in the chair. "Yes, and then to the shower where you can lather up the stubble and scape me clean!"

The cape was again in my hand….it would be my pleasure to please Hansi-Lo.

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