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Depunking - parts 1-3 by The Hair King


Depunking - Part 1 - Mohawk

Ronny was a little punk alright. He had hair three quarters the way down his back, blond and wavy - sometimes curling at the ends if it was humid. He wore his bangs of long hair down over his eyes to the tip of his nose as often as possible, just to aggravate all the adults and dudes who hated his long hair. He wore impossibly baggy jeans that sagged all the way down his butt most days, cinched with a belt just under the round of his boxered rearend. He loved wearing nylon or silk boxers that were shiny and slippery to accent the saggin routine. Throughout the day, he would often have to pull up his pants - of course he would only pull them up to about 1 2 way up his butt and then let the S...L...I...D...E begin again. He usually would reach down to his crotch (between his knees usually) and yank the cool pants up. He wore heavy leather boots to make himself look taller they had thick soles and heels. He wore several chains that were slung along the length of his leg, the lowest reaching his knee. His earrings and leather choker set everything else off. He strutted down the hallways at school, and ruled the roost, telling off anyone he didn't like and tormenting kids who had less self esteem - even though many of them were bigger physically than this little punk!

One day, a new kid came to the school - a real PUNK too - he had a mohawk! Yes, the dude had an honest to goodness mohawk that stretched 10 inches into the air in awesomely styled, waxed, gelled, hairsprayed long hair. He wore leather jacket - sometimes with nothing under or a muscle shirt, he wore skintight jeans with holes ripped in all the right places, torn and worn jeans that showed off his small but muscular physique. He, too, had earrings and a nose ring. He wore combat boots that almost reached his knees - and he was COOL. Ronny hated this kid immediately. How dare he come into his school and his domain with such a faggy haircut and cool clothes, trying to take his power ??

Ronny managed to cajole some of his friends into disliking this punk dude, too. He told them that the dude couldn't be allowed to strut around the school like that. They tended to agree, but then they knew they had to agree with Ronny - or else. He told them his plan. After the new kid had been there about 3 weeks, Ronny and his motley group of pals decided it was time. They had planned it perfectly. Bill, one of Ronny's friends approached Karl - the mohawked punk. Bill had a bit of shaved sides to his hair and looked a little like a punk dude, so they picked him to go and ask Karl to meet him after school because he was starting up a punk band and needed a cool looking dude to join in. Karl quickly agreed. They knew from band that he played a wicked guitar, so it was no stretch to convince him. They were to meet at Ronny's garage. Bill gave Karl the directions and then all the boys stayed in wait. Right on time, Karl came cycling up the road. He didn't see anyone around, so he got off his bike, walked over to a truck that was parked on the road and used its sideview mirror to fix his hair. The little baggy he carried with him all the time had hairspray in it. After fussing with his hair - the dudes inside the garage peering out at him and stifling laughter, he approached the garage. Ronny said, Look at the fag dude fixing his fag hawk. I couldn't think of a better victim for being depunked. The boys laughed and agreed. They thought he didn't look so tough standing in front of the truck mirror, taking furtive glances to ensure nobody was watching before he pampered his pride and joy - his tall gleaming mohawk. Karl had a chain running from his nosering to an earring, slung across his cheek. He had chains on his boots, too.

Bill opened the door for Karl, who was quickly tucking his baggie with the hairspray under onto the handlebars of his tenspeed.

Hey dude, how's it going ?

Cool, Karl replied sullenly - punkly, entering the garage.

He was quickly introduced to the guys in the band. Then, they said he'd have to go through a small initiation. Karl didn't like the sound of that.

What do I have to do.

Ronny stood aside and revealed an old barber chair. Karl's eyes got wide, his mohawk seemed to stand even more at attention. Ronny temporarily lifted his silky blond hair off his eyes so that he could look right into Karl's eyes. You need to get into the chair and let us give you a little boys haircut.

NO WAY, Karl turned to go, but the boys would not let him out.

Yes way, Ronny laughed. Bring him over boys.

The boys struggled to drag Karl over to the chair. The reluctant haircut victim was putting up a good fight. Come on, dude. It wont hurt, it is just hair, Ronny laughed and sneered at the mohawked punk. We just want to cut your faggy hawk off.

He ain't gonna come willingly, one of the boys yelled.

Then hell have to come, my way, Ronny reached out as the boys had Karl pretty much restrained. He grabbed the punk by his nose chain and pulled him over to the chair. Just before he forced Karl into the chair, he said, You'll have to suffer another depunking indignity now, and laughed hysterically. The boys knew what was up now. They'd seen it before. Bring me the paddle, Bill. Ronny took his position in the barber chair, looking a bit ridiculous cause he had a difficult time getting up that far with his huge baggy pants saggin down his ass, the crotch near his knees. Also, his almost waist length dark blond hair hung seductively over the arms and back of the barber chair - taunting with their flow and beauty - long long hair.

The boys helped him get Karl up over his knee, but with one hand still yanking his nose chain it wasn't hard. He wasn't actually hurting Karl, but the threat of pulling the chain was enough. Finally, the mohawked punk with the torn skintight jeans was over Ronny's knee. Bill brought the paddle. The skintight jeans weren't much protection against the paddle. Each swat stung severely and the young punk tough dude was feeling it. SWAT SWAT SWAT Ronny whalloped the lads tight jeaned ass with the paddle until he started to yell obscenities. Oh the faggy punk is a mouthy faggy punk, eh. Ronny liked to call other dudes fags or sissyboys or farmboys cause he thought these were the worst insults. He was a spoiled COOL dude who gave the finger to his father and mother when they asked him to cut his longhair or pull it out of his eyes or mouth (he liked to suck on it sometimes) or to pull his pants up. He was SPOILED rotten - a bad boy. Then he asked the boys to help again. They struggled to pull his jeans down, but they couldn't get them down, they were too tight and he kept trying to escape. Since they already had holes selectively torn under the cheeks of his butt, Ronny finally smiled and reached in with his fingers. He tore the denim all the way across the dudes ass, revealing a nice pink butt - no undies. The little round butt hanging out through the now totally ripped denim trousers looked more like a little kids butt than a tough punk dude with combat boots and earrings and mohawk. Ronny proceeded to swat the punks pink arse until he was crying and sniveling like a baby. They looked down at him and saw the tears rolling down his cheeks as he begged them to stop, snot running out of his punk nose, getting caught on his nose to earring chain. Please, my ass, my ass, please - stop spanking me. He couldn't believe he was being spanked. Ronny had one more job to do before letting the poor sniveling punk boy up - he took a sharp pair of scissors and snipped straight down the mohawk, shearing off 10 inches of proud tall mohawked punk hair - the long spikes fell ignominiously to the floor revealing a small pink scalp. The dude would no longer look the tough punk, but rather a little boy. Ronny took a pair of clippers and edged a nice hair part in the dudes remaining short hair so that he would not be able to spike it or make it cool in any way. He gave Karl's butt one more parting slap. The punk dude couldn't believe he'd just been spanked - he'd never NEVER been spanked before - he'd been spoiled just as Ronny had - When he stood up and saw himself in the mirror, he couldn't believe it - he looked like he did when he was 10 years old - skinny little head with almost no hair, parted and slicked down like a good boys haircut. He was crying and his butt hurt. His sexy skin-tight faded, torn and threadbare jeans were ruined. He was depunked !

Depunking - Part 2 -  Afro

Ronny was feeling pretty cocky since his last depunking episode. He loved the look on poor Karl's face as he trimmed his long hawk and slapped his ass. He also felt quite a rising in his own saggy-baggy jeans. He hoped the other dudes hadn't noticed how horny he got whenever he cut somebody's hair or spanked another dudes ass.

Still, he was the PUNK dude with tude and he knew he controlled his friends. He wasn't about to lose his punk style and strut (even though it was sometimes more of a waddle in the awesome baggy pants saggin most the was down his ass.)

Ronny was satisfied for a few days remembering and thinking about how Karl's mohawked head was reduced to a little boys haircut and how his tight little ass was red with a good old-fashioned spanking. The punk really enjoyed thinking about depunking the hawked dude. At night he had wet dreams and wanked himself off thinking about what he'd done. He had to be careful when he saw the dude downtown now with his new short hair and not strutting quite as much in his torn punk jeans and combat boots - in Ronny's eyes, he could still see the dudes pink spanked ass and Ronny's boner would rise in his baggy pants. If he were saggin too low - as he almost always was - his shiny silk boxers wouldn't hide much. On more than one occasion, he'd had to find ingenious ways to conceal his hard dick from the other dudes when Karl went marching by.

Ronny now needed another episode. He'd been gunning for this guy for some time. He was about nineteen and had the most awesome afro ever. Ron thought day and night about how he could bring down that afro. The dude wore skintight jeans, so tight that every bend and twist of his anatomy was visible. He'd seen the dude have to adjust himself before sitting or moving in his tight, tight jeans. Ronny talked to his friends about his next conquest. They agreed to help, some of them didn't like the afro dude, either - he looked pretty cocky marching around town, driving his little sports car. They thought he would look better with a short haircut - making him look like a geek was a cool idea. His skintight jeaned ass would do good to have a whacking as well.

One day when they were discussing the plan, one of Ronny's friends, Bob, said, Dude, you totally get off on cutting other dudes hair, don't you ?

Ronny didn't say a word. He was going to ignore him.

You always want to depunk some guy that has awesome f***ing hair, dude, Bob continued. What does hair cutting do for you, dude ?

Ronny's face was turning red, he could feel it. He could feel the cheeks of his ass turning red in his shiny silk boxers his jeans hanging down to the bottom curve of his ass. He also could feel a snake in his pants, rising and looking for attention. not here, he thought, not here. trying to keep the boner down in his jeans - not rising into the flimsy shiny cloth and pointing out at his friends like a poker.

He just doesn't want any competition over the beautiful hair contest, one of the other guys laughed. He's got the prettiest hair in town, he laughed again, brushing a few fingers through Ronny's long, long, hair. Ronny felt the hair fall back three quarters the way down his back.

f*** YOU, he said a little too quickly and a little too loud. He wanted this line of conversation to end before his hotrod made itself known. He noticed a few of the guys looking down toward his crotch and he kept shifting from one leather boot to the other, trying to hide.

This dude struts into my town, our town, with his skintight f***ing jeans, showing off his boner and his tight little ass - I say we shear down the afro that attracts so many gu...y girls and make him look like a geeky nerd.

They knew where the afro dude worked at a gas station. Ronny drove in and talked to the dude. He noticed that the dude was always fussing with his hair - just like him - so he figured it would be safe to approach it that way. With his own long hair so awesome the dude wouldn't suspect anything. Hey, dude, cool hair, man, Ronny complimented. him.

The afro dude looked a little suspicious but then noticed Ron's own long, long, extra-long blond hair, so well taken care of. Thanks, dude, he replied.

Do you ever get any grief over your hair like that, Ron asked.

All the TIME, he laughed, but you know - you got long hair, dude,

I know, I know, Ronny agreed. What's your name, dude ?

Donny Cox, he answered.

Ronny almost burst out laughing at the last name, but decided for his plan, better not too. Look dude, were having a kegger over at a friends place tonight. Why don't you come over and well get drunk together.

Sounds cool, Donny agreed.

The evening went well. Donny arrived around 7 and all the guys introduced themselves. Bob said, You two could share hair care secrets, and laughed but Ronny thought he was hearing something else in the comment.

After a few beer, Donny seemed perfectly relaxed. His long lean legs were spread out in front of him, sitting on the couch. His tight jeans concealed nothing, his crotch was so tight you could see his bag with one nut on one side of the seam and the other nut on the other side. His shaft was not hard, but you could see it was to the left. His afro was styled to an awesome height, glowing under the light, huge, fluffy and proud.

Ronny could wait no longer. You know this is a farm, dude, he said. Donny shook his head. He knew he had to drive a while. This is my grandpas farm, the punk told him. He's got a few horses in the barn. You ever ride? Donny said no, but Ronny and the guys convinced him to try.

As soon as they reached the barn and stepped inside, Donny began to try to back out. Dudes, I don't really want to ride a horse. I've had a few drinks and I'm really not a farmboy. I don't think the smell of the barn will ever come out of my hair.

Don't worry about your hair, dude, Bob said laughing. Ronny was not keen on getting the barn smell in his hair either - but this would be worth it and besides he had hundreds of dollars of hair product at home.

Dudes, really, my Fro is important to me and its really hard to take care of, Donny Cox whined a little.

Well just go for a little ride, dude, Ronny said. Look, here's your horse, she's real gentle.

I don't know dudes, Donny reached for his afro and gently stroked it. I don't want this s**t in my hair.

Before you mount, lets try over here on the practice horse, Ronny announced and let Donny to a saddle mounted on a wooden contraption. Just to get used to mounting and sitting in a saddle, dude, he slapped the saddle indicating for Donny to get up.

How do I start, the afro dude grabbed the saddle. The guys came around him.

Well help you, dude, they reached for his little hips and yanked him up by his awesomely tight jeans. He was now slung over the saddle, his afro head pointing toward the barn floor on one side the shiny steel toes of his high-heeled leather cityboy boots pointing to the barn floor on the other side. His skintight jeaned ass pointing up into the air. S**t dudes, this ain't right, get me up, he yelled. Instead of strapping the saddle to the fake horse, they strapped it to him, holding him in place.

Hey, dude, Ronny laughed, before you can ride, you have to be made into a farm boy.

The other guys were laughing, too. Ronny came around to the front and looked down at afro boy. He reached into the luscious hair and ran his fingers through it.

Hey, f*** off the hair, dude, Donny yelled.

Don't worry about your hair, dude, Ronny said. A farm boy doesn't have fancy pancy hair like this. He took hold of the clippers they use on the horses. Donny's eyes grew wide.

You are not f***ing cutting my fro, my f***ing long hair - look at your long hair dude, he was panicking.

Yeah, and I'm going to stay the PUNK dude around here - get it right. Ronny took the clippers to Donny Cox's long hair. The fro fell like clouds to the dirty barn floor. The punk dude took pleasure in walking over the silky fluffy curls working them into the s**t on the floor. Your hair IS going to smell a little like a barn now.

The dude was humiliated. He knew that he looked like a total f***ing geek in short hair. He would never even walk in the rain without some protection cause when his fro got wet it shrunk and revealed a short haired geek.

What came next he couldn't believe. Ronny finished shearing his head, reducing the afro to a 1 4 inch stubble of hair. Donny's ears were pointing straight out and the hoop earrings he wore made his ears look even bigger and his head even smaller. This pinhead wont be able to wear this pretty earrings any more, will he dudes ? Ronny laughed.

Bob took a paddle and whacked the little fro dude on the skintight ass. He yelled out. Ronny yelled, too, What the f*** do you think you are doing ?

Giving him a spanking, Bob replied.

You know you don't take the first whack at a fresh ass, Ronny reminded him. He waddled over in his shiny Extreme nylon jeans hanging off his ass, his red silk boxers out behind him. He could feel his hardon in his boxers, but he couldn't believe that one of his friends had done this, so forgetting to hide he walked right into the light. For a split second he forgot, then he remembered that cutting the long hair of the fro dude had made his cock hard and it was now pointing straight up past his heavy eagle belt buckle, poking its head over his jeans. He quickly recovered and stepped back into the shade, taking the paddle from Bob. Bob held onto the paddle for a few seconds - just long enough to make a point.

I don't see why you have to be the first all the time, he said.

Ronny raised the paddle to Bob, You don't see why, f***er, he challenged - then laughed as the other guys watched gathering behind Bob. Ronny took the paddle to the fro dudes ass. These tight jeans wont protect you much, fro dude - or should I say shorn dude, Ronny laughed. The other guys got into it as he slapped the tight-jeaned strutting dudes arse.

SMACK SMACK WHOOP WHOOP SLAP SLAP.

The dude is yelling and saying f*** you, f*** your mother, f*** all of you, f*** OFF!

He's a little too mouthy for his own good, dont you think dudes. I think he needs a good bare ass, little boy spanking.

They try to pull down his jeans, but they are too tight. Ronny finds a little jack knife and carefully cuts the precious skintight jeans right down the middle of his ass, stripping the jeans away from the dudes tight pink ass. Each dude takes a swipe at the bare ass pointing up at the ceiling. The fro dude is now blubbering like a little boy and whining for his mommy. They decide it is enough, they have humiliated him. They untie him and give him some nice barn clothes - dungarees to wear home. Ronny takes his high-heeled boots from him and puts them on himself. These will look cool on me, he laughs and gives one of his friends his own huge leather boots to put in the car. Here, you'll look like a real farmboy - we've kind of ruined your pretty skintight jeans.

Ronny plopped a farm cap on the boys now shorn head - here this kind of smells like the barn so you wont forget your experience. Now you can wear your farmboy cap cause you have no f***ing fro anymore.

He wont be wearing any skintight jeans for a few days, Bob laughs as Donny tries to strut but his sore butt wont let him. Ronny waddles up to the dude in his saggin jeans and goes to slap his tight ass one more time. Donny surprises him by turning around quickly. He reaches for Ronny's punk saggin jeans and grabs at the silk boxers. Ronny is so surprised he doesn't move, the dude yanks at the silk cloth pulling the boxers up into the air. Ronny backs away but trips on the baggy pants saggin down his ass cause as the dude pulls the silk boxers, the eagle belt is heavy and drops his jeans down his ass. Also, he isnt used to these high-heeled leather city boy boots with dripping chains and shiny steel toes - slippery. Ronny falls into the barn, landing on a pile of horse s**t, splattering his shiny boxers. Worse still, for a few moments his boner is revealed inside the boxers as he tries to recover himself. Some of the dudes come over to help and are too close for him to hide everything. They are brushing him off. Eric brushes down the front of Ronny's cool saggin jeans and suddenly looks up, Woah!

Depunking - Part 3 - Tables Turned

The boys are laughing at Ronny - the hair God!  How dare they, he thinks.  Even Donny manages a smile at the arrogant punk who just got a little of what he 
deserves, looking at the waddling punk's ass that now looks like he took a dump even more than usual. 

"What the f*** are you laughing about," Ronny pouts. 

"Take it easy, dude," Eric says, smirking.  "We're just trying to help you, but it did look kind of funny.  Who would have imagined that the stud punk would
land in a pile of horse crap." 

"Yeah, now your dung hampers really look like it," Bob smirked. 

Bob meanwhile is trying to brush the dirt off Ronny's silk underwear that usually cling to his cheeks but are now droopy with the weight of the horse dung 
and straw.  
"Somebody get me a cloth to clean him up," Bob says.  

Donny wastes no time finding a filthy rag and moistening it in a sink he finds.  He brings the rag to Bob who takes it and begins wiping down the 
broody punk's underwear.  The cloth is getting in the way and the huge sagging jeans with the heavy eagle belt aren't helping with the now even 
more drooping silk as it gets wet. 

"F***, this ain't working too good.  We need to get a better angle. Bend over the saddle, dude, so I can get at these undies a lot better." 

"What the f***," Ronny complains but does as suggested without consciously admitting that he was following order. He bent over the saddle so the 
boys could clean him up better with his ass in the air.  

"That's better," Bob smirked. "Now I can do a good job." 

"F***ing better," Ronny complained.  "And f***ing hurry up.  I don't like being in this position. My long hair is f***ing hanging to the ground.  
I don't want the smell of s**t in my long f***ing hair." 

"Don't worry," Eric said consoling him.  "I'll hold onto your hair."  He picked up swaths of glorious long blond hair from the ground and bundled
it into his hands. The hair was awesome, but he got to thinking that in his hands, it did look kind of weak. He had never thought of Ronny's 
long hair as weak before. 

As a matter of fact, Bob saw Ronny as exceptionally weak at the moment. He had been seeing the boy's weaknesses for a while but now 
bent over the saddle with his little ass up in the air and his heavy proud baggy drawers pulled even further down, and his wee skinny legs
showing between the sex pants, eagle belt, and the shiny dampened silk boxers, he looked like a little boy that just got spoiled too much. 
Bob smiled. 
Seeing the arrogant, mouthy, strutting punk whining about his pretty long hair and letting some dude hold it for him while another cleaned 
him up was just to precious. 

"Just about done. I think I cleaned them about as much as I can.  Of course, they'll take a while to dry." 

"F***," the spoiled brat complained, "Let me up."  

"Not yet," Bob said.  Eric was struggling to keep holding onto the boy's extra-long hair that kept trying to escape his clutches. 

"What the f***," Ronny whined. "I said, let me up - now!"

Bob came around now to where Eric was standing and told him to drop the hair.  The massive tendrils bounced down on the ground
in the straw and god knows what. 
Bob stepped on some of the long swaths of glorious punk hair with his boots. "When are you going to learn, boy." 

"Are you out of your f***ing mind," Ronny's face turned beet red with anger as he tried to get up, but the other boys grabbed onto
his scrawny arms poking out of his torn muscle shirt.  They had never noticed how skinny this kid really was until he was upended, 
vulnerable, and they saw those stick legs of his.  This dude wasn't tough after all. 

Bob ground his boot into the hair and into the mixture on the ground, the long sexy blond hair mixing in.  

"I'm going to f***ing kill you, assholes.  Let me up now! Look what you are doing to my long hair, moron. It's going to smell like
s**t for ages.  Stop f***ing around.  You f***ing cocksucker!" 

"Apologize, Ronny." 

"F*** you!" 

"Apologize and we will let you up," Bob commanded, smirking down at the brat. 

"F*** you!" Ronny tried to glare at them but when he turned his head up all his waves of super long super blond hair were in the 
way blocking his sight.  
Still they knew his was furious.  They could tell from the wiggling ass in his wet silk undies that no longer clung to his ass like a peach but
were drooping from the water Bob used to clean him.  It looked like a little boy's ass now. 
They knew from the spittle that was forming at the corner of his mouth as he spat a continuous series of foul language in their direction - 
mostly saying what he was going to do to them when he was in a better position.  

Finally, Bob nodded to Donny.  "You know what to do. We all know what is needed here." 

Donny smiled even broader and picked up the paddle.  Little Ronny could not see what was going on, but it was soon very obvious. 
The first few whacks on the brash brat's little ass brought a new series of expletives from the studly lad. 

"Are you out of your f***ing minds, assholes. I will f***ing kill each and every - OW - f***ing OW one of OW you." 

"We'll see," Bob smiled down at the squirming boy. 

The shiny silk underwear that Ronny was so proud of was not giving him any protection now. The slaps of the paddle stung like a thousand
bees and he knew that he would not last long. 
The boys were all excited now, and there was no way that the vainglorious stud was getting out of these easily.  He had been showing off his
ass for years and taunting people who hated his long hair and his ass hanging out. Now the smartmouthed boy's ass was getting what it
had been begging for all these years. 

At last, Bob heard what he wanted to hear as the boy's swearing started to diminish - not because he was calming exactly but because with
each word, he was becoming more unstable in controlling the ........yes, you guessed it, a sniffle and whimper. 
The proud, self-satisfied punk was becoming undone.  

Soon enough the tears began despite Ronny's attempts to keep them at bay.  As his ass stung more than it ever had, he began with a few sniffles 
and then the real sobbing started. 
Bob knew that the begging would come next. 

"Please, let me up.  Enough. You had your fun." 

Bob knew the pleading of the snot-nosed little brat was just a ploy, so he let the spanking continue for a while. Donny stopped and let the 
other boys have a turn.  After all, they had put up with this mouthy little idiot for years. They deserved a chance to get back at him. 

But this was just the beginning of Ronny boy's humiliation.  I mean fair is only fair. 

Bob finally indicated with a nod to stop.  The self-centered punk was crying like a five year old, so that was good enough for now. 

"Get me up now," Ronny sobbed. "F***." 

Bob reached up to the boys head and stroked the long hair lovingly although he was still standing on loads of it. He stroked the hair
with his fingers, pulling all the massive hairs from the nape of his neck up over his head so that his neck was finally bared. 
The slender neck looked very white and strange to the boys who had never seen the back of Ronny's neck in their life. 
The vulnerability of the skinny ass was nothing compared to the vulnerability of what they were seeing now. 
Everyone knew what was about to happen - it was inevitable. 

"Well, not quite yet, Ronny boy," Bob laughed. "Not quite yet, you sadistic little punk who thinks so highly of himself." 

Bob stroked the auto-erotic hair that brought Ronny so much pleasure. Nothing had changed so far as he noticed the punk trying
to wiggle and adjust his crotch. The boner that was being brought on by Bob's stroking his sexy long hair was pushing at the
silk boxers. 
Bob knew that the saddle was going to be anointed by the young buck's seed any time soon. They had all watched for years this
dude stroking the comb through his long hair or his fingers as he massaged another part of his anatomy, smirking as he fell into his 
own self-love. The long hair was an extension of his erection. 

The scream that came out of the upturned boy would have brought a crowd if they hadn't been in the middle of nowhere. 
He saw from under his hair that Donny had brought Bob the massive hair clippers. 

"There is no f***ing way you assholes are cutting my goddamn long blond hair - NEVER!" 

"Yeah, really," Bob scoffed. "What other stupid kid do you know who calls his own hair 'my long blond hair'?  Your atrocious hair
has been the bane of our existence for a long time." 

"Get off me. Let me up. NOW!"  

Bob had to give the kid some respect. He was struggling harder than any dude he knew over his hair. The sweat was pouring off 
him and he wiggled in his little shorts, his huge sexy jeans now fallen to his ankles.  The boy's scrawny arms working hard to free themselves
from the grips of stronger boys as his ripped muscle shirt revealed a washboard rib-cage. At least this long hair won't get caught up
in his underarms anymore, Bob thought. 

The other boys watched Ronny struggle, too.  Had this been the morose, strutting, belligerent asshole that they followed all these years? 
Could this be the same strong dude?  Yes, but his power had been replaced by a little snot-nosed sniveling boy who could not control 
his ass, his tears, his hotrod, or his pretty long hair. Someone else had control of all his punk s**t. 

Bob stroked the lad's hair until it was stretched over his head and the back was clear of hair.  The clippers roared to life. 

Bob placed a strong man's hand on the back of Ronny's neck and then applied the sharp blades of the clippers.  He had considered putting
on a number one guard, but then that would mean crossing all the way to the other side of the room.  Bob smiled. 
The clippers bit into the thick stands at the base, but they began to hum away as he slowly - very slowly - moved the clippers up from the
base of the boy's head to the top.  The blades sang more happily as the heavy strands started to give way and then he pushed the clippers
over the round of Ronny's head and down toward his forehead. 

The other boys were watching with fascination, a little fear, a lot of excitement, and somewhat embarrassingly, some physical automatic 
reactions of their own. 
Still, the bratty, dominant punk deserved his comeuppance. He lorded his long blond hair over everyone else for years. 

The white path revealed by the first pass of the huge clippers was astounding!  Everyone gasped as the huge swath of hair landed 
with a soft thwaap to the floor.  The damage was done. There was no going back. 
The former glory was already destroyed.  
Sure, there was still a lot of hair on the boy's head, but it looked f***ing ridiculous with a wide swath stripped right up the middle 
of his bony head. 
Shaved to the bone! 
Ronny!
Shaved to the bone.
Un - f***ing - believable. 

Bob smiled at his handy-work. The head looked small under all that hair.  He was going to reveal a little kid. 
The protective pants were gone, the protective hair would be soon.

Ronny wailed like a banshee and swore like a trooper, but his hair was doomed.  He blubbered and flustered at the same time, trying
to be a punk but giving way to the drama. 

The next pass broadened the naked head even more.  
At last, the hair would no longer be dominating everyone's life.  Bob thought of Ronny's parents and his brother never having to clean 
up all the long hairs that Ronny left all over the house when he combed his hair constantly or ran his fingers through the long strands, 
feeling his crotch at the same time. 

He shut off the clippers for a moment. "Stop crying, little boy.  You won't have to cum all over yourself anymore without all this long 
hair.  You might even grow up to be a man some day."  He laughed. "At least your cum rag won't be your precious hair anymore."

Ronny spat at him, but to no avail.  

The clippers started up and the rest of the proud hair fell like sheaves of wheat.  
The ears poked out as the clippers rounded them and sheared the hair from the sides of his head.  Bob purposefully bent the ears
and spent some time baring them and fondling them so that the vain little boy would know that all his vanity tied up in the 
awesome long blond hair was gone. 

Ronny shook with tears underneath the heavy hand and heavy clippers. 

At last the shearing was done.  The previously proud strutting young punk with all the attitude in the world was now practically bald
with just a soft glow of hair left on his head. 
They helped him up off the saddle. Here he stood not looking like the arrogant, self-assured stud he claimed to be with his heavy pants
and eagle belt at his ankles, tears running down his face, ears poking out, and his round head completely devoid of hair under the 
light. His shiny silk boxers drooping from the washing on his ass. 
But give the boy credit, his boxers were being held up by a proud stick. 

"I think he likes his new haircut," Bob laughed and pointed at Ronny shaft. 

"Shut the f*** up," Ronny squeaked.  He had intended to sound tough, but his voice cracked and went up a few octaves, sounding like
a child. 
His hands went to conceal his embarrassment - but where to go - his crotch, his pants, his practically bald head. 

The domineering young lad had been cowed and reduced to a blubbering little boy who had lost control. 

Eventually, he struggled to pull his pants up - well as far as they ever were, sagging off his ass.  He tried to strut out of the barn, but
his waddle was not impressive anymore. It looked like he'd taken a dump in his proud pants and that he couldn't handle the 
heavy leather eagle belt with his scrawny arms and his skinny head and ears jutting out he looked like a punk wanna be - a kid dressing
in his big brother's clothes.  

"You gotta change those clothes, asshole. You look like a f***ing idiot now."  The boys laughed. 



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