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Now that will change - part 2 by Chovanec

I wrote a story I heard about, I apologize for the weak English. I recommend reading the first part.
My name is Michael, I am 14 years old and I am growing up in my 70s. I had long hair like almost all boys at this time. When my best classmate and friend Jakob got a forced short haircut in Nikolas's barber shop, I called and introduced myself as my father asking him to cut my hair because I had poor results at school.
On Saturday, about 10 days after my haircut, my hair grew about 5/32 inches, an angry father came home and ordered me to prove his results at school. As he checked them, I noticed that he was cut. After all, your results at school are excellent as before, so they explained to me why you lied to Mr. Nikolas and told him that you had bad results at school? I didn't know what to say, I just stood silent.
My father got up, went to the phone, and I just heard him say: He lied to you and therefore deserves the punishment we were talking about. Then he told me to get dressed and go to Mr. Nikolas to apologize and I would get a real punishment from him now. On the way to the barber shop, I wondered what punishment Mr. Nikolas would give me. Whether I get on my ass in front of customers or somewhere in the back room.
Upon arrival, I apologized to Mr. Nikolas and waited for his sentence. But he ordered me to sit on the waiting chair for now. There were 7 mostly old guys in the barbershop waiting. When he finished the customer he said: Michael would sit down here and point to his barber chair. In the meantime, he apologized to the guy for preferring my haircut, but for lying to him and getting a proper punishment for it. I was scared and started having stomach cramps. Mr. Nikolas wrapped me in a tarp. I began to beg him not to cut my hair, that my hair had not grown much yet but his pleas were not of interest to him. He told his clients that I deserved to cut all my hair, but that's against my school so my upper head is cut # 1 which is about 3/32 inches. He took an electric scissors from the counter and cut all the hair on his head # 1. I only had a short stubble on my head. I started crying. But Mr Nikolas continued. He soaked my head and applied white foam to the back and hips. He took the razor and began shaving the non-foamed part of his head. Finally, he wiped my head on a towel. I turned my head to look in the mirror. My side of my head was completely hairless, I saw the same thing in the mirror when the barber showed me the back of my head and neck. I tilted my head forward and saw only a small stubble in the mirror at the top. On the way home, I searched with my hands for just one hair on the sides or back of the head. Well, I only felt smooth skin. Only a small stubble irritated my palms on the top of my head.
All customers praised the barber for not only the hairstyle but also the punishment. After coming home, my father reprimanded me again for lying about what he didn't like at all and for agreeing with my mother that everything would change now. But the worst change was that my father would take responsibility for my haircut and I would go to Nikolas's barber shop with him every 4 Saturdays.
1) Gradually my classmates got used to the fact that my hair is very short and after cutting I can't hear as much ridicule as it was after the first cut
2) My hair hasn't even touched my ears yet and has grown to 1/2 inch on my back and been removed again
3) It irritated me to rub a small stubble on my head with my palms. A few days after each haircut, I locked myself in the toilet and rubbed the stubble on the back of my head until an erection occurred.
4) My father stopped controlling my hair when I turned 20. I asked my father to go to Nikolas's barber shop alone to be cut according to his request, but my father did not agree. My argument that all my classmates go to the hairdressers alone and never stand up with their parents. He regularly told me every 4 Saturday after breakfast: Michael, I'm waiting for you in half and we'll go to Nikolas' barber shop. I was humiliated if we met someone we knew along the way and my father said: I'm going to have a boy cut and I was already 19 years old. The culmination of my humiliation was when a barber wrapped me in a tarp so he asked out loud for everyone to hear: How do we cut a boy today? And his father's equally loud answer was: as always, large white arches around his ears and a short back.

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