3389 Stories - Awaiting Approval:Stories 0; Comments 7.
This site is for Male Haircut Stories and Comments only.

New Barber Takes Charge by Manny

A continuing story. Previous chapters include:

Chapter 1 - Jack Opts for Change
Chapter 2 - Mr. B or Mr. Baldy
Chapter 3 - Rev. Battersea: Barber, Buddy or Both
Chapter 4 - Jeremy's Raven Locks Raise Funds
Chapter 5 - Coach’s MPB Fringe Falls Amid the Fun
Chapter 6 - Erik Gets to Know and Look Like the Locals
Chapter 7 - Rev. Battersea Makes the Cap Fit
Chapter 8 - Edward's Executive Coif and Career Ends
Chapter 9 - Vic's Visitation


Rev. Battersea felt a tad guilty as he pulled into the parking lot of Al's Barber Shop. His hair was somewhat shaggy, but not critically so. The truth was, his visit was purposely timed to coincide with Al's annual two-week fishing vacation. And, that's why he felt guilty -- a bit of betraying his regular barber.

Rev. Battersea was curious about his ministerial colleague from First Baptist Church, Rev. Brown, who was a trained barber and back-filled in the shop when Al was on vacation. The combination career of barber and pastor intrigued him.

Rev. Battersea ran his fingers through his plush brown mane before pushing the door of the small shop open. He would ask for "just a trim" to play it safe.

Inside, the lanky Rev. Brown was outfitted in white from tunic to toe, trimming the hair of a young businessman with shears. The barber had a very professional look, almost angelic! Rev. Battersea felt somewhat jealous. How he too longed to be a professional barber himself! Of course, he was trained as a minister, and was quite a successful one. But, to have his own little shop like Al's and a tunic that buttoned on the shoulder with a clerical-like collar.....that would be heavenly!

"Good morning, Rev. Battersea," the fill-in barber greeted him cheerfully. "Coffee is in back, if you care for a cup."

"Thanks, but I've already had my fill of coffee today. Real stuff, not Al's swill! And, let's get past this 'Reverend' thing. Call me Bill."

"Happy to! My name is Adam, but I've gone by Bud my whole life," the barber replied.

Bill thought that was an appropriate nickname for the pleasant man who appeared about his age. Bud also had brown hair, but not a deep mahogany tone like Bill's nor was it lustrous. Just a dull, mousy brown with a bit of receding at the temples, brushed to the side in a fairly nondescript business cut. Like Bill, he was handsome. Of particular notice was his manly cleft chin and puppy dog eyes. Bud's blue eyes popped a bit, surrounded by thick lashes and dramatic brows.

"The shop is a bit empty compared with the coterie that usually hangs out to hear Al hold court while he clips and cuts," Bud remarked.

"Are the geezers, I mean, the gentlemen that are usually here, fishing with Al?" Bill asked.

"I believe so. They rent a few cabins together and have a grand ole time," Bud replied.

"And, what about you? Do you enjoy spending time in the barber shop, cutting hair, Bud?" Bill asked.

"It's a nice break from my routine. And, I can take care of some church business, as well. This fellow getting his executive cut shaped up is one of my deacons, Frank Tolbert. He's a manager at the bank downtown," Bud replied. "We were talking about whether the church has enough money to get the parking lot resurfaced when you walked in."

Bill and Frank exchanged a polite greeting.

"I understand you're a barber, Bill," Bud commented, pausing from the haircut for a moment. "The art teacher told my son you cut his hair. Why don't you help pinch-hit for Al when he's on vacation? He's getting up in age and has told me he'd like to scale back to just two or three days a week. Between the two of us, we could cover the other days."

Bill loved the idea! But, there was the matter of a professional license.

As if reading his mind, Bud added, "There's the option to be an apprentice in this state instead of formal barber school. I'm sure Al or me or the both of us could put you through your paces."

Bill felt over-the-moon about the idea. "That would be amazing! I'm totally interested!"

Bud unfastened the cape from the deacon's neck and dispatched him after receiving payment.

"Okay, Bill, your turn to hop up in the chair! And, please don't tell me 'just a trim' -- not with that shaggy mop you're sporting," Bud said, eying Bill's thick, sexy brown locks.

That comment almost took the wind out of Bill. It was totally unexpected, like he'd been socked in the gut. The way Bud looked at him and said it -- so assertive, so in control, so confident. It was just the two of them in the shop now.

Bill's heart beat quickly. He would not be getting a trim -- that decision had already been made for him! Bill felt his groin stir. Not only was Bud handsome, but he had that dominant personality which attracted Bill.

Here he was on cloud nine thinking about becoming a barber apprentice in his spare time....and the very man who proposed the idea was now itching to shear him like a sheep! All Bill had to do was to submissively have it happen. And that meant a severe shearing, for sure -- another thing that excited him.

Bill stood and forced himself to advance to the chair. He looked at himself in the mirror. His thick, sexy mane would soon be on the chopping block again!

To his own surprise, Bill found himself saying as he smoothed down his silken mane, "No, no trim for me today. I need this overgrowth cleared away." He had given Bud a green light to unleash one or several clippers in the huge line that hung from the Formica counter.

Instantly, his stomach churned and his legs began to wobble as he made it to the chair, gripping the arm and easing himself down into the comfortable worn leather.

"Good!" Bud remarked cheerfully. "You'll get your money's worth today."

The next thing Bill knew, the cape was flying into place. Bud had secured his prey; there would be no escape from the clippers!

Nor would there be any consultation about length. Bud clamped one hand on top of Bill's head, forced it to the side, and came up through the sideburn and temple with a huge set of Osters, sending the first wad of dark hair to the cotton cape.

Bud began Bill's first lesson as an apprentice (in the chair). "I've got on a #2 blade. That's just to clear away all this overgrowth. I'll take it down to a#1 on the second go-around. You know, the first time our churches played baseball, you were sporting a mighty fine horseshoe flattop. I was thinking that's the cut you should return to. All this girly long hair belongs in a beauty shop. Men -- especially men of the cloth -- need short haircuts. Be a good example to the boys and men in their congregation. Know your clients, Bill. That's what a good barber does. They may say 'just a trim' but you are the professional and know they need a good shearing instead."

Bud babbled away while the clippers kept removing more and more of Bill's plush brown locks. The white cape gradually morphed in color to brown. Bill was facing away from the mirror but could tell that he would leave much, if not most, of his hair behind on the floor.

Then, as if to rub it in, Bud remarked, "Look at all the hair piling up on the cape! You were long overdue! Men whose hair grows quickly need a good clipping every two weeks to stay looking sharp. Makes sense for the barber from a business angle, as well, to recommend their clients come back regularly. The shorter the hair is cut, the more maintenance it needs. Wow! Look at your lap! Like a cauldron full of hair!"

Bill looked down, relieved the action beneath the cape was not visible. The cauldron of shorn hair helped conceal his excitement. Apart from the joy of an unexpected cropping was the curious feeling of excitement generated by helplessness. When one is in a barber's chair, one is totally at his mercy. Bill relished having to endure submissively what Bud was inflicting on him.

"Now for this curtain of hair over your forehead. My favorite part of the cut," Bud chattered away. "Lift it away from the forehead with a comb like this, snagging the full forelock in the teeth, and then one quick maneuver, clipper over comb, and there! It's off! The bulky forelock sent to the cape! Let me show you how it's coming along, Bill."

Bud swiveled the chair towards the mirror for the first time.

Bill gripped the arms of the chair. He was being taken down close all over. Like a crewcut! The missing bangs grabbed his attention.

"Isn't that better without all that floppy hair across your face?" Bud asked rhetorically. He reached for a duster and whisked around Bill's face and ears.

"I'm so glad you came in today. I'd been wanting to get to know you better, and there's no place like the barber chair for that! Haircut is looking great, if I may say so. The shorter, the better! That's my philosophy. Short hair is appropriate for all men, but especially older ones. You must be pushing 50, eh Bill?" Bud's chattering was non-stop!

"I'm just 42!" Bill stammered, almost insulted by the insinuation, which added to his emotional vulnerability.

"We'll it's starting to thin up here on top. Another reason to give you a shoe? How about it? A nice, tight, mean looking shoe?" Bud urged.

Thinning?! No way! Bud was toying with him!

"No shoe, please," Bill almost pleaded. "I like the length it is now. What's do you call it? A crewcut?"

"Sure thing, quite a classic!" Bud said cheerfully. "Despite your age, it gives you a rather boyish look."

Bud put the finishing touches on Bill's haircut.

Unexpectedly, the barber began to administer a shoulder massage. His strong hands vigorously worked out the tension Bill had been feeling.

As the massage continued, Bud shifted gears in both persona and subject. "I'm going to give you a special treat. A lather shave. Clean up this neck, and around the ears. Nice big soaring arches like the windows of Bethlehem Church! When you came to town, that congregation was a few old biddies hanging on and a handful of others. I can' believe how much it's grown! You're giving us Baptists a run for our money. But, we're not losing people from our congregation to yours."

"I'm not into poaching. I feel joy bringing new people into the congregation -- especially ones who never considered faith or a purpose-driven life. I also love reaching those who grew up in the church but drifted away for whatever reason," Bill explained.

The warm lather felt divine! So did the stroking of the razor. Bud was slow and meticulous....and very hands on! Bill closed his eyes and fantasized a bit....he had noticed Bud wore no wedding band.

Bill had never been a fan of arches around the ear, but he sat still as Bud carved an imposing set. Then the barber wiped away the lather with a warm, moist towel.

Talcum powder in the duster! Away with the snippets! Witch hazel! Off with the cape!

The floor was covered in a shimmering carpet of lovely mahogany. Bill spotted his former forelock amid the hair at his feet. He glanced in the mirror and smiled. Bud was right -- the crewcut made him look boyish! And he liked the look. At least no one could think he was pushing 50!

"About becoming your apprentice...." Bill said, as he shuffled a bit, not knowing how to move that agenda forward.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Bud interjected. "And, I'd like that too! Spending time with you, getting to know you better, Bill. What you said about introducing the faith to new people -- not poaching -- that was so....so....impressive...so humble, so Christian!"

"But, before I accept you as an apprentice, I need to see if you really do have talent for barbering. Giving the art teacher a baldy cut is no credential to go on," Bud warned.

"You could come watch me cut someone's hair at the parsonage. There's a fellow who recently moved here from California; he'd would let me, I think," Bill said.

"The one who was tripping over that ponytail? California is exporting fruitcakes across the country!" Bud laughed.

Then, Bud glanced at himself in the mirror and smoothed his hair. "No, you will cut MY hair, Bill. Barber in the chair! And you will give me exactly the same haircut I gave you. A classic crewcut. Are you up to it?"

"You mean, right here? Right now? You would trust me with the clippers to give you a makeover?" Bill stammered.

"I'm a man of faith!" Bud laughed. "Plus, I could straighten out any botched job. Come to the back. Let's get you looking like a proper barber so you can feel more confident."

Bud put his arm around his new friend and shepherded him back to the private room. As they went, he playfully rubbed his finger on Bill's bristled nape, sending a few shivers down Bill's spine.

The small room was momentarily dark when they stepped in. Bud took his time locating the light switch. It was just the two men, standing close, in the dark, emanating hot vibes.

Bill wished Bud's lips would lock onto his. He fantasized about dropping to his knees and unbuttoning Bud's white barber slacks.

Instead, the light switched on. "Start undressing, Bill. I think there's another tunic and pants in the closet that will fit you."

By the time Bud located the outfit, Bill's shirt was off.

When Bud turned around, he was blown away by the eye candy -- Bill's sculpted torso and hairy chest. Bud did not even try to suppress a gasp of delight.

"Should I take off my pants too?" Bill asked shyly.

"Please!" Bud exclaimed. The large pecker was slowly revealed, followed by the muscular, hairy legs.

Bill's "come hither" look was irresistible! Bud fully understood the invitation. And accepted it! He embraced and kissed Bill passionately.

Then, he paused and murmured, "We're both in the closet and can't come out."

"I'm okay with the closet," Bill said.

"So am I," Bud replied with a slight giggle. "It's safe, it's cozy, it's private." Then, the two resumed their make out session.

A tinkling of the bell in the shop put a sudden end to their steamy interlude.

"Get this barber outfit on while I go out and attend to the client," Bud instructed in a directive and dominant tone. "You can either stay back here until he leaves or come out when you're dressed as my dream barber. I can't wait for you to cut my hair!"

Then he gave Bill a swift smack on his tight ass and left the back room. Perhaps Bud was into adult spanking, Bill thought. The barber chair would make a great venue for OTK.

Bill was in a total daze as he started donning the white barber combo. A tunic that buttoned on his shoulder! He was in a dream world. It was then Bill realized that he'd finally allowed himself to begin falling in love again.

Your Name
Web site designed and hosted by Channel Islands Internet © 2000-2016