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Bun Man by George Wheeler


By George Wheeler


I am 32 and have been working as a barber for 10 years. 2 years ago, I bought my own small barbershop. Ever since my early youth I have felt a particular attachment to traditional barbershops, inventory and barber’s costume and equipment. The thought of touching and taking good care of male hair thrilled me in a strange way. Many nights I pleasured myself dreaming of barbershops, barber chairs and tons of male locks caressed for and " cut off sculptured into perfect complementing and adding value to different guy’s appearance and looks.

My barbershop was situated in a narrow alley in a medium-sized town. My customers comprised businessmen, craftsmen, students, policemen and everything in between. And I am glad to say my customer base was steadily increasing.

I specialized in flattops. Many customers travelled to my shop on the advice and recommendations from previous clients. I always found a flattop to be the ultimate symbol of masculinity. Short, tight, proud, and so very stylish. Of course, I am a customer’s barber. What the client demands I cut " within reason. I am not a beauty parlor. I do HnT, landingstrips, buzzcuts, shoes and classic businessman haircuts " but generally everyone leaves my shop with ears free, nape buzzed and shaved and frontal hair close to the hairline.

My barbershop comprised of two traditional barber chairs with red leather seats and metallic footrests " a waiting area with a few wooden chairs, huge mirrors on all walls and a desk in front of the chairs with my combs, scissors, and clippers. I am an Oster-man. And my best and most loyal friend is the Oster Classic 75. It has followed me closely since I started as a trainee, and we never parted.

I sport a super sharp flattop, a classic Hurson Barber smock, 3 side button, black trousers, and permanently polished shining black shoes.

In front of my shop is a big window with a very thin and transparent curtain " and outside a classic rotating barber pole.

Closing time was near and I had finished my last customer for the day as the doorbell rang. I was cleaning the floor and had my back to the door. I continued sweeping the floor and said: "Sorry sir we’re closed for the day".

I noticed that the customer cleared his throat and with a low and nervous voice said: "I’m sorry to bother sir, but do you think it was possible to make an exemption. I’m in a desperate situation".

I paused the cleaning and turned around.

At the entrance stood a young man probably in his early or mid-20’es. He wore a low black leather boots, tight leather trousers, a black T-shirt, and a small black leather jacket. His face was beautiful but was marked by an expression of nervousness bordering fear.

But what really caught my eyes were drawn to was above his face.

Gracing his head was a GIANT bun in the form of a turban. I never had a customer with a turban before!
"I’m actually closed for today. What do you mean by desperate situation"?

The young guy stayed in the doorway. Visibly extremely uncomfortable. He sighed deeply and then said with a trembling voice: "Well sir. You see. I just last a bet. And now I have to pay my debt". He paused to breathe. I could see his legs tremble.

"The fact is sir, that my debt is a haircut. A haircut before the end of this day. I need your help to pay my debt sir. I have been searching a hair salon for the last hour, but they were either too busy to take me or very closing or already closed. You’re my last hope sir".

I was inclined to turn down his request. I had had a terribly busy day with customers all day without breaks. My feet were aching and my back hurt. On the other hand, I could not ignore shivers down my spine and my heart beating rapidly. The thought of seeing what was hiding behind the giant turban was exciting. In fact, extremely exciting!

I had never had a client with longer than shoulder length hair. And I could well imagine that the voluminous turban hid a mane surpassing shoulder length!
So, curiosity and excitement beat pain and fatigue.

"Step inside and let’s see how I can help you" I said. "By the way I’m Sam".

"My name is Peter" he said and stepped inside the barber shop.

I put away the broom and went to close the door and put on the "closed" sign.

Peter stayed motionless as if he were frozen just inside the shop.

"Take a seat please" I said and pointed to the barber chair close to the window.

Peter moved with extreme difficulty towards the chair.

Visibly trembling he sat down.

He looked extremely attractive all in black and his beautiful face. I could not wait to reveal what that excessive turban was hiding. But first I had to prepare him.

So, I reached for the neck paper. Peter followed my every move with wide open fearful eyes. I was not sure that he had ever visited a traditional male barbershop before or if so, it would have been many years ago. So, I decided to explain the different stages of a male haircut.

"We begin with the neck paper" I said and moved behind the chair. "This is to prevent cut off hair to slide down your neck inside your clothes. It can be very irritating to your skin". I closed the neck paper around his neck.

"Now for the caping" I said and moved the desk and opened a drawer. I grabbed a cape and unfolded it on my way back to the chair. "Now I will cape you. The cape will protect you from getting cut off hair all over you". Peter looked so scared with eyes wide open and full of fear.

I threw the huge black and white striped cape around Peter and the chair and closed it quite tightly in the back. Then I arranged it, so it covered all of Peter and the chair all the way down to his ankles. Only his low black boots resting on the metal rest were visible.

Peter stared paralyzed at himself in the huge mirror in front of him. I guess he felt trapped inside the huge barber cape and that made him feel little, helpless, and awfully vulnerable.

"Next step is unleashing your hair from that turban" I said with a voice trembling just a little bit from excitement.

I raised my hand to release the turban and after some initial difficulties I managed to loosen it and then remove it.

I was shocked to see the volume of the bun that had been hidden by the giant turban. I judged it to be almost 4 inches high and with a diameter of around 3-4 inches. It looked absurd. And to my immense surprise the bun was not black as I had expected but shone like a dark blond corn field with sunlight upon it. It had an almost hypnotizing effect on me.

Looking at Peter in the mirror imprisoned in the huge cape, with a face full of fear and that enormous bun on top of his head made my tension rise. It felt an awfully sensitive sight and moment. We were both very affected " Peter scared, me excited.

I could not hold back any longer. "Let’s see what you have for me to work with Peter hidden in that massive bun" I said with a racing heart and legs like gel.
I reached for the pins holding together the excessive bun. And started to remove them one by one.

In the beginning nothing happened. The giant bun remained in place. But when I removed the 5th pin it started to loosen. And with the 6th pin removed locks of heavenly beautiful thick blond locks tumbled down all over the cape in front, at the sides and behind the chair " and tons of blond silk just kept tumbling and sliding down all over. The first locks now had reached the floor but kept flowing " it soon covered the floor all around the chair!

I stood mesmerized by the completely over whelming sight. Peter was totally covered in his own golden mane. So was the barber chair. And even the floor around the chair.

I was speechless.

Peter looked as if he was at the point of fainting. Seeing himself and his magic mane displayed all over a barber cape and tied inside it, being in a traditional male barbershop and asking for a haircut paralyzed him completely.

Complete silence reigned the barbershop. Both of us had to digest what we witnessed.

Finally, I cleaned my dry throat, took a deep breathe to get hold of myself and said: "OMG Peter. This is mind blowing. I have never ever seen a sight even close to this. You are all hair"!

Peter remained paralyzed and did not speak a word.

I reached for a handful of Peter’s golden silk and weighed it in my hand. It was so unbelievably thick and soft and beautiful. It seemed like a sin even to just think of cutting of this hair.

"Peter, when have you last been to the barber" I asked pulling the giant lock in my hand gently and feeling the bulge in my pants awakening.

Peter was brought out of his trance and whispered: "Never. My mother always does my hair. She does not allow anyone else close to my hair. I always visit her when it’s time for washing my hair and she trims it every ½ year to keep it healthy and in good condition".

"Every woman would be lucky to have just a fraction of this mane" I said and caressed the soft long lock in my fist.

"Does your mother know that you will visit me for a haircut" I asked with my heart beating even faster and my stomach aching mentioning a haircut when standing with his golden mane in my hand and a view to the absurdly voluminous and long and thick " and beautiful mane I had ever seen.

"No" Peter said. "She doesn’t know. If she did, I would not be here. She would never allow that".

"You say you’re here because of a lost bet. Tell me what happened". I grabbed another fist of golden silk and now had two hands full of extremely long and thick male hair. My cock was struggling to get out in the free.

"I needed money to pay for a special medical treatment of my mother, which is very costly. It is urgent so I tried to win the money in gambles. In the beginning all went well and I soon I had won half the money I needed. But then my luck changed, and I lost everything I had won. One of the guys at the table offered me a chance to win the money I needed. However, if I lost, I had to have a haircut.

It was horrendous. My mother whom I love above everything and my hair that I cannot live without.

In the end I chose my mother " but lost the bet. And now I have to get a haircut before midnight".

His eyes were full of tears and his voice broke down.

"How much do you have to cut off Peter" I asked extremely excited and at the same time quite sad. Seemed a waste to destroy a mane like this.

Peter could hardly speak. He just sat there in the cape and all his hair crying his heart out.

I pulled his fabulous mane gently. I felt like embracing him and comforting him.

After a while " in an atmosphere full of sentiment and emotion " I asked him again, how much he had to lose.
Finally, the answer came.

"An inch" he sobbed uncontrollably.

"An inch Peter. Now that is nothing to be so upset about. You will hardly be able to see the difference when I have finished cutting your hair".
"You don’t understand" Peter said through tears and sobbing. "It’s not an inch off. It’s an inch long"!

I felt dizzy and had to sit down on one of the wooden chairs in the waiting area. I had difficulties breathing and my heart threatened to explode. I did not believe my own ears. Before me in my barbershop, caped and ready to have his 7 or 8 feet long marvelous mane cut off!! By me! It was almost incomprehensible.

Peter sat imprisoned in my chair with his absurdly long and voluminous and incredibly beautiful mane spread all over him, the chair, and the floor. And all of this now belonged to me. I was the ruler of this magnificent golden shiny mane. I ruled over its destiny. I was to be the barber and have the pleasure to transform this unique mane covering everything in and around the barber chair into a " FLATTOP!!

I rose and moved behind Peter.

I felt an irresistable urge to kiss him.

I gathered huge amounts of his wonderful hair into an out of this world ponytail " pulled it a little hard and went in front of the chair. I looked at poor Peter and all his beloved hair.

I could not resist it any longer. I moved close to Peter and his beautiful face and kissed his lips.

My cock was rock hard as I pulled his enormous tail and started to French kiss him " Peter did not resist but he remained almost paralyzed.

"I will give you a haircut you will never forget" I whispered and bit him gently in his ear.

To be continued….?

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