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Virus Hair part 2 by The Hair King


Byron stood whimpering in front of Brad. While Brad felt sorry for the dude at first, this constant whimpering was just pissing him off.

"Well, what the f*** am I supposed to do now?" Byron tearfully asked.

"Get a haircut, like I said."

The look on Byron's face was one of pure horror. Brad almost laughed but held on.

"You needed a haircut and now you really need a haircut."

"Thanks to you, asshole!" Byron screamed. "And how the f*** am I supposed to get a haircut when all the hairdressers are closed?"

Brad pretended to think for a moment. He already knew the answer. "I'll cut your hair. I have clippers."

Byron knew this was true because Brad often touched up his own hair, but then he hardly had any hair to speak off. In the meantime, Bryon put his long locks that had already been raped from his head onto his dresser lovingly. Was he thinking of trying to find a way to reattach
those extra-long streamers of hair back to his sexy head, Brad thought. No worries, he'd see to it that such a thing could never happen.

"Sure, I could just tidy it up a bit."

Bryon's glare was impressive. "You are the reason I'm in this f***ing shape, dude."

"Yeah, so let me help you out. Please."

The boy was calming only slightly. His nose still had a streamer of snot coming from it along with the tears, but he was not full on sobbing anymore. He was totally pissed off and was struggling to hold on to any sense of punk cool, but he was calming. Brad looked at him and
felt disgusted at his childish behavior. And that stupid nose ring was not helping, who was stupid enough to think that was cool. Well it didn't look so cool now with his tears and boy snot - just a sniveling brat.
Byron looked into the mirror again and almost started the flood again. He saw the dangling hairs above his shoulders just flopping around and looking sad in his eyes - and short. He had not had such short hair since he was a child - and never with such a stupid looking blunt cut.

"I'm not getting my hair cut like yours," he said quietly. "No f***ing way." He tentatively played with the longer strands of hair still attached to his head. "I'm keeping as much hair as possible so I can grow it back quickly."

Brad was sincere - or sounded sincere. "Of course. I get it. I'm sorry, I took too much. I was just going to tease you, but... well, I got out of hand."

Byron glared at him, but what choice did he have? He looked like a f***ing freak and needed to do something. "F***," he finally said.
"You can't use clippers on me. Only scissors. I'm not going that short."

"Sure," Brad offered, "I just meant that I have the whole set. The barber set came with scissors, brushes, the works." Brad risked getting closer to Byron. He laid a hand on the young man's shoulders and felt him shudder with leftover sobs. "Of course, you want to keep as much long
hair as you can. It is your pride, dude. I get it. You need your long hair to be you."

"Exactly," Byron sniffled. "Too bad you didn't think of that when you cut my really long hair." The boy started to cry again as he thought of the long
hair that had tickled his crotch and fell to the seat of his skintight jeans. The long locks that toyed with entering his barely-there and low swim trunks in the summer time - coiling near the crack. He couldn't believe that this summer he would not be able to show off or annoy others with the super length of his hair.

"I can see why you need your long hair," Brad smiled and nodded to Byron's drying crotch. "I understand now."

Byron's face burned red. He looked up through strands of long hair that still cascaded down over his face and past his chin. "F*** you. You aren't so innocent yourself," he indicated Brad's jeans, too.

Brad acted ashamed. "I admit. It was a thrill. But I was wrong. You need long hair. You are built for long hair."

"I look like a f***ing freak with short hair, dude. I ain't never going to be no shorthair again."

"I know." Brad consoled.

Byron hesitated for some time, but eventually realized that he had to do something. He couldn't cut his own hair properly.
"Fine, but you better do a good job. I want to keep as much hair as possible."

"I get it," Brad said, "really, I do." He smiled at the boy.

In no time, Byron found himself sitting on a kitchen chair with a towel wrapped around his thin shoulders. Brad pulled the long hair out over the towel - considerably shorter than before - miles shorter, Brad smirked - but still long hair. It looked really bad though with the rough cut.
Despite knowing it was wrong, Brad was getting the burning feeling again in his groin as he looked at all that silky hair falling over the towel.
It is still to f***ing long, he thought - way too long for a boy.

"Just trim it and f***ing do it carefully, dude. My long hair is my thing."

"Yeah, I know. Just try to relax." Brad consoled. I'm going to start at the back and try to even things out. The scissors that came in the kit were very sharp and Brad was shocked to see how easy the sliced through the glimmering locks. He had to give it to Byron, the kid really knew how to take care of long hair. It was beautiful. But it was even more beautiful to see the long hair falling around the towel and to the floor.
While, he had agreed to give Byron a trim, he hadn't really specified what kind of trim.

He combed through the strands at the back that were still fairly long. Each strand separated and slid through the comb like well-trained children. He lifted the hair with the comb and put the shiny blades of the scissors into the astounding hair, cutting with precision. He had to admit that he was cutting far too high for the hair to be considered long at the back any more.
Byron began to panic a little.

"What are you doing? I can't see what you're doing and I can't feel my hair. Don't cut too much!" he was almost hysterical, his voice rising a few octaves into a five year old getting his first haircut.

"I'm not, man. It's the towel I wrapped around you. That's why you can't feel anything."

Sheepishly, Byron said, "Oh yeah. I forgot."

The hair was coming of in streamers across the back of his head. Brad was getting more and more excited as he began to see parts of Byron's neck and head that had not been visible for years - some over a decade!

"It's looking good," Brad comforted. He could not wipe the smirk off his face, but luckily Byron couldn't see it. He would have to be more careful when he moved around.

After a bit, Brad stood back and said, "It looks good at the back, but the sides need to be trimmed up a little to match.

"Fine," Byron sniffled, but his cockiness was returning. "Just be f***ing careful and keep as much long hair as you can."

"I know, I know," he confirmed. "If I use the comb and raise the hair up high, I should be able to get a good cut without taking much hair off around the side."

"Good. F***ing get it right, dude. I'm not f***ing walking around as a shorthair - EVER!"

Brad felt a sneer coming on but turned it into a smile.
"Got it."
He lifted the long silky strands with the comb and marveled at just how high the hair still reached when stretched out with the comb. The first few snips barely took any hair, so Byron settled a little - although when Brad looked down, he could see that the boy was almost as hard as he was.
Those jeans must be hurting by now.
He had no sooner thought this than Byron tried to make an adjustment.

"Are you okay, little dude?"

"F*** you." Before he thought of what he was about to say, Byron said, "F***, dude, I'm stuck. I need to make an adjustment."
He moved to get up and reach for his crotch to shift things away from the old mishap into a new wet patch, and Brad took this opportunity to make a small "mistake."
He had a huge swath of hair raised in the air over Byron's left ear. When the boy moved, he slipped the scissors in very far up and sliced a mountain of long locks off the kid. The hair fell to the floor.

"Whoa," Brad said.

"What? Shut up. You aren't innocent. A dude has to do what a dude has to do." Byron thought the whoa was about his adjustment.

"No, when you moved, I cut in the wrong place."

"WHAT! What the f*** to you mean?"

"Sorry, man, I cut a little more than I planned." Brad stood behind Bryon so that he could let his huge smirk go unaltered. The hair on the left side fell short of the stud's ear. The ear was exposed!

"F***ing fix it, dude. That's your f***ing job! You f***ing told me you could - so f***ing do it." Byron was full on losing his temper now.

Brad knew that the kid was chock full of testosterone and dying for a wank. He would have to move fast.
He said, "Okay, if you say so. I will do my best."

With that, he moved to the right side and lifted the hair high in the air, placing the scissors about as high as before and cutting again. The right ear came into view for the first time in a very long time. The ears were not a bad shape, but they did tend to poke out quite a bit. If he had had short hair in secondary school, he for sure would have been called jug ears. But his hair had already been long enough by then to avoid the nickname. Lucky him then.
Unlucky him now.

Brad stood back and looked at the sad boy in front of him. Bryon looked up at him trying to figure out what was going on.

"What the f***, dude. Are you done?"

"Well. No."

"Then get on with it, asshole. I can't sit here all day. What a f***ing idiot, you are."

Brad half knew he deserved the insults but he was still angry for them. He went back to work on the lad's hair. He was actually trying to even things out a bit because at the moment, the haircut made the so-called hair stud look like a complete dork nerd. It was a bad look - not even a good
short haircut.
The more he cut, the worse it looked. The ears were now so prominent, but the hair on top still looked kind of thick and long and did not match the naked sides.
He was at a loss as to what to do. Well, not a complete loss.

"Okay," he said.

"Okay, what?" Byron asked.

"I can't make it look good this way. Sorry."

"What the f*** do you mean? You said you could."

"I tried, but I'm not used to cutting long hair. I'm used to shearing hair like mine," Brad ran a hand over the stubble on his head. "That's easy. This..this is too hard for me." He couldn't help looking at his own jeans and then Byron's with the word hard.

"No f***ing way, no f***ing way," Byron yelled. "I've gotta have long hair. I f***ing have to have long hair."

"Well...."

Byron jumped up and ran to the bathroom to see the damage. A wail could be heard that sounded like a child being spanked.
"What the f*** have you done! You can see my f***ing ears!" Byron came out of the bathroom. His punk strut left behind. He looked like a little child who had his best teddy stolen.

"You f***ing asshole! You can f***ing see my ears!"

Brad said nothing.
"And what is this s**t?" Byron fingered the top where there was relatively long hair but it did not blend. It did not work at all.

Brad pretended to be upset. "I know, I know. It didn't work. You have to let me use the clippers, dude."

"F*** you."

"No, really. Look, my hair doesn't look that bad really." He rubbed his head again, and Byron almost fainted. "Look, you just let me shear you, and your hair will grow back evenly. It won't look so bad."

Byron's tears were flowing again. He could not believe what was happening to his pride and joy. He had always protected his long hair. He had always defied any authority over his long hair. How could this be happening?

"Trust me. It will look better once it's gone."

GONE gone, Byron thought. Nobody ever talked about his f***ing hair being gone!
He looked at Brad's hair. It looked like s**t to him because there was no hair to speak of - no beautiful long strands to fondle or care for.
Still, he knew his hair was ruined now.

Brad did look good,however, standing there in with an obvious hardon. He must care about him somehow. Maybe he could at least make the
haircut look presentable until he could grow it back.

"It will take ten f***ing years, dude, to grow back!"

Brad wanted to say, more like twelve - and that's assuming you will be able to grow it back and don't get MPB or a job that won't let you have long hair. For once, he stayed quiet.

Byron slouched over to the chair. He sat in it. His boner had flagged. It looked like the whole boy had flagged.
"F***ing get it over with. I'm going to kill you."

Brad quickly set up the clippers. He knew he could keep some of the hair if he used six or a four, but he didn't want to give Byron any head start on growing back ass-length hair. He put on the one.

Within moments, the clippers were alive, and hair was flying to the floor. The number one cut was shearing the former longhaired boy into a respectable young man. The stubble was astounding popping out from under the mop - and especially considering the former glory of hair that wafted into the stud's crotch.

As he came up the back of Byron's head, the bangs flowed off like a waterfall. There was another waterfall down Byron's face. The boy had been reduced. Still, Brad noticed a fresh boner in his ultra tight jeans. Those jeans are going to be wrecked, he though. Then again, maybe they would continue to be good for some fun.

His own wouldn't be faring much better except they were not nearly so tight.

Somehow the purring of the clippers kept exciting the young man beneath his strong hands and control.

Byron could not believe that someone was taking control of his hair, his head, his image - and, to some extent, his f***ing cock! What the hell.
He couldn't believe the embarrassment and the loss.

Brad did not risk shutting off the clippers. He quickly popped off the guard and used the bare clippers to go around Byron's extended ears.
When he held down the first ear so he could clip cleanly around it, he felt the boy shudder. There was a fresh bout of boyjuice on his skintights.
Brad smiled.
His boy now.
He continued to the other ear and then along the back, bringing the completely stripped hair well up Byron's head. The dimple in the back of the stud's head was plainly visible now. The curve of his scalp, a small mark from some age-old accident.
He could not believe that his roommate, the super punk who bragged about his long hair for years was looking like this. He could not believe that he had been the one to reduce the incredible long locks to a whisper of hair.
He marveled at his luck to have total control of a mouthy superpunk stud who thought he was perfect and here he was taking away the biggest part of his so-called perfection.

There was almost nothing left of the former longhaired dude. He was a whimpering child who had lost his famous hair, his pride and joy.

Still, Brad had a surprise for him at the end. He thought about it. Should he or shouldn't he? But then he decided, he should be a little nice.
The truth was that Byron did not look so good with a sheared noggin. Some dudes did. Brad did. But Byron sort of looked like he had escaped from a brutal prison.
His head shape didn't lend itself so well to the super short cut.
The super cool nose ring did not look cool at all now. Before when a glimmer of it was seen through the massive hair, it was punk. Now it simply made his nose look enormous and out of place. Good, we can get rid of that next, Brad thought.
Still, at least he was no longer going to be swinging feet of long hair all over and leaving disastrous pieces of his hair everywhere. At least he must be belittled enough now not to be bragging all the time about his super long hair and how sexy he is.
He was not looking sexy at the moment. More like a spoiled brat in tears and wanting.

"Okay, dude, I'm done."

Byron wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He was pissed off, but just looked silly. His anger was not the anger of a punk stud but of a corrected child.

"F***," he whispered. He reached up and felt his head. There was almost no hair to be felt, just a small bristle on his hand.

Just before he was going to either start sobbing again, or wailing, or screaming in anger, Brad stepped forward and said, "I have a surprise for you, dude."

Byron looked up but could not speak.

Brad put a hand on his shoulder and leaned over him. He reached back behind the shorn lad and pulled forward a long tail. It was not very thick, but it was definitely very long. The tail almost reached Byron's other pride and joy.

"I saw that there was this one bit that I missed on the first cut on the bed. It is almost as long as your longest hair before. I thought you might like to have a rattail."

At first, Byron was going to scream invectives at this asshole who had stripped him of all his glorious long hair. Then, he thought better of it.
At least he still had this long hair. He could still play with something, and soon it would reach.
It wasn't much, but it was something.
He could make up some kind of story and he could still flaunt that he had ass length hair - well almost - waist length, though just a tail.
Maybe he could say most of his hair had the virus but not this part.
He could be a hero for shearing his beauty and just keeping this tail as a memento.

"Thank you," Bryon said very quietly, but Brad heard it. He could not believe that this little mouthy punk was thanking him for cutting off all his long hair. Of course, he knew he was thanking him for saving a bit - but still.

"You need to change, dude," Brad said and clapped Byron on his shoulder - no longer getting long hair caught in his fingers.

"Yeah, f***." Byron said sheepishly. "You too."

The boys laughed a little, though Bryon's was still mixed with sobs.

"Maybe tonight, you could sleep with me and let me play with your tail." Brad could not believe he said this.
He could not believe that Byron didn't immediately scream at him.

"We'll f***ing see."







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