The Haircut Story Site

I was a pretty boy. I am a happy freak by etienne

All my life, I was called «a pretty boy». In the beginning, I was of course «a pretty child». Something like a puppy, I think. During years, I was really Mother’s pet. I grew up. Slowly, alas. I was still the same guy, in another size. I became the nice, clean, polite, well bred young man. Somebody the family is proud of. A model for the other bad teeenagers in the neighborhood. Good clothes. Shining shoes. Sometimes a tie. A discreet one. Curly black hair. Not too long, but not too short. Well combed. I went, as you can imagine, to the hairdesser and not the barber. An expensive one, for gentlemen only. Nothing greasy, of course. Allways good taste. I was supposed to smell good. But no fancy cheap perfume.

When I was 22, my parents died both in a car accident. They were on vacation in Europe. A complete surprise for me. I was’nt prepared to that. It was supposed to change everything in my life. In fact, this life, I had not really forced to earn it. I inherited money enough to create my own little business if I wanted. I could also do nothing. Il was free at last. I did not live anymore under the terrible eyes of Father and Mother. It was possible now to kill forever the «pretty boy». To change at last. To become what I allways wanted to be. A freak, or something like that. I allways found men terribly sexy if they were bald, fat and hairy. Musky and even dirty too. Feet and armpits must not be too proper for me. And also the cock and balls, of course. I hate deodorants. Real men stink a lot, because they sweat and make their shirts wet. And it’s the best smell in the world.

First thing was to get rid of my my hair, of course. Something simple. I went on purpose to the worst possible barbershop. An old one, in a narrow street. Only one chair, in bad condition. The man was in his sixties. Bald, and it was that wich attracted me. Really bald, not shaved. As you know, I’m dying for guys who have lost their hair. If possible very young. The sooner the better. My final goal was now to have a full calvity. A big broad one, with a shiny tanned skin in summer on the top of my head. As I sat in the chair, the man asked me roughly what I wanted. I answered: « A buzz. A very short one. Really close.» He looked a little bit surprised, but said only: «OK. Two, one and half, one…?» I told him: «One, of course». It was a massacre, and I was in Heaven. Incredibly horny. My locks fell and fell. I could at last see the white of my scalp. In five minutes, I looked like a skinhead. It’s worse to have such short hair (in fact a 00) than to be clean shaven. It was bad, bad taste and I loved it. I paid after I had seen with a smile my old black hair on the floor.

There was still a possible turning back. My goal was to loose my hair for good. I just had to meet somebody to laser it almost completely. Money was not a problem. Maybe a girl i knew a little would do it. It was after all her business. She was in the beauty parlour where Mother went, and she looked provocative and nasty. So I took a appointement with her. At my great surprise, she liked immediatly my shorn hair. «More manly». She notices also that I had no deodorant anymore. «Nice smell, I could lick you.». I told my plans, and she was amazed. A little scared too, I suppose. «But you’re 22, and you want to be as bald as a man of 50.» I said yes, «and forever». I saw she was deeply thinking. «It will be a lot of work. I never did that. I just lasered one or two guys who had allready MBP. They wanted it cleaner. Just a little broader for them.» I answered that I was longing for a naked head with just a little fringe. I would keep short but visible, as low as possible. She said: «Are you sure?». What a question! I wanted it so badly. So, we took the first of our many appointements. Twice a week. She confessed that she was in fact very excited. «I’ll transform you slowly into a new man. A bald-headed man.» Waouh! I was horny again.

The case of hair was more or less resolved. I just needed time. A lot of time. Months, maybe years… In fact, she did’nt know. I had now to find how to become as furry as a gorilla. I thought and thougt. And a found a kind of solution. The daughter of family friends wanted badly become a man, two years ago. An absolute scandal for my parents. As I knew, she had finished now the full treatment. If a doctor can make a man from a girl, it appeared easier to transform a pretty boy into a macho stud with bodyhairs from the chest to the legs and a real bush under the arms and around his cock. I just had to find Elizabeth, who became as I heard Jack. It was easier as I was afraid of. I called. He answered. We had a meeting in a bar. He looked very virile know in his black leather jacket and his thick red moustache. I found him f***ing good. I was very pleased to notice he has lot of bodyhair coming out of his low t-shirt. More than that. I felt amazed when I saw he lost lot of hair on the forehead, even if he had a short buzz. «The treatment», he said. «But I like it that way.» And after? «I think I will lose even more hair. Probably everything on the top of my head. I can see it every morning with my brush. I pick lot of little red hairs. It’s a happy moment for me. I’ll be glad to be fully bald. I’ll feel more masculine then». Just like me. I told him everything. He gave me the name of the doctor. I could go and see him with his warm recommandation. «He is not afraid to go very far. He’ll make you look like the creepy goon you want to become. I wish you luck.»

Two things were now arranged. I had the appointement for the doctor in a week. I allready had the fourth session for the lasering. The girl loved now the idea to create a complete baldy. She noticed the first results. «It’s coming good. A little faster as I tought», she said with satisfaction. Perfect. I had something else to worry about. I was almost slim, as a good boy haves to remain. Flat belly. Some muscles. No beautiful big ass, alas. No soft and abundant round love handles. No enormous beefy back. I had to change all that. I looked since years a lot of sites for gainers on Internet. The images helped me a lot to masturbate till ejaculation when a was 13 ou 14. It looked now a little bit complicated wih the textes. Full of contradictions. What to do? I guessed the easiest way would be to swallow every day a lot of calories, but not a too big amount of food. I would eat the rich things my parents forbid me to buy before. Cheap chocolate. Lot of cream. Three banana-splits as a meal. Two juicy BigMacs in the same time. Coke with sugar. The beginning was a little bit difficult. I felt a little sick during a week. I vomited even one or two times. You have to create an new eating habbit. But after a month, my stomach asked for more and more icecreams and french potatoes. I did obey with joy to his permanent calls. Some days I was absorbing not 2600 calories, as I did before, but 7000. A real bomb.

The machine was now on the way. My body was going to change completely. I still could add wicked things. In a street near to the house of the doctor, who recommanded me with a big smile very strong male hormons, I noticed a tattoo shop. Not the kind you see in an elegant neighborhood. A real old shop, with terrible «flashes» in the window. Traditional ones. Flowers, Hawaian girls. Ships. Bulldogs. Daggers with blood. I was amazed and attracted. It looked so vulgar. Once again, I was horny. I had to enter, look closer and talk. I did it an afternoon, some days after. The guy was doing a large eagle on the chest of a very young shaved lad. Maybe fifteen. Maybe less. Fourteen or even thirteen. He told me «just to watch» the pictures on the wall. I was searching for something flashy. I could feel the saliva in my mouth. The most spectacular pattern was a cobweb in full colors. Enormous. A really crazy thing. «I usually do this kind of stuff on the elbows of skinheads.» I remained silent. No comment. «But with your shorn head, your strong beer smell, your green bomber jacket and your chubby body, you should’nt be afraid to do it. You’re already on the good way.» Silence again. «Of course, you need to cover both arms. But I have different kinds of cobwebs in a book.» I saw them, some with explicit nazi stuff. Not my style. Two of them were pure insanity. Obreperous. My final choice. «You have to be really mad to want it», smiled the shop owner. «But it will be a pleasure for me to do it.»

I was in Heaven. I was going to wear two offending colourfull tattoos. Very visible. Appointments were fixed in five minutes. I just had time to ask his age to the shaved lad. «Thirteen, but it’s my second big tattoo and I shaved my head at eleven». Waouh! But it was above all the first time somebody told me I looked «chubby». In fact, it was only a begining of my transformation, like the first black hairs on my chest. But it was apparently noticeable. A chance. I only took ten pounds in two months. A pity. But the start is slow. I felt a little bit disappointed. I was before 170. I was now 180. I thought sadly about it, as I casually met on my way back a nice good looking friend of mine. He was of course surprised by the changes. We had a long conversation in a cafe. «You really became a gainer?» «You are lasering your hair now. All your hair?» But I saw quickly that he was not horrified at all. He looked instead fascinated. I told him everything. About the doctor. «My God!». And I did reveal him my two appointments with the low class tattoist for big and insane patterns. «You’re going to do it. For good?» I answered yes, «and as big, bright colorful and visible as possible.» «But there is no turning back!», said my friend with shiny eyes. I could see under the table that he was horny. «That’s what I like about it. No more hair. Lots of bodyhair. Plenty of ink all around. And a gorgeous belly, growing and growing.»

We did part after two hours, but he called me back three days after. He wanted to learn more. I knew now that he was interested in the thing. Very interested. I did imagine him with a chromed dome instead of his neat and tidy businessman haircut. I pictured him with brown hairs growing freely on his arms and even on his hands. I was sure that he felt now skinny. He was probably 160 pounds. I was dreaming to see him weigh 240 ou even 250. I could go first with him to the tattoist. Why not? The click. He would only have to let himself go. I was right. Perfectly right. The first question during our second meeting was if he could «soon meet the laser girl». The second, «how I could absorb as much calories.» The third was the adress of the tattoo shop. «Just to have a quick look.» I said he could come with me when I’ll make the other cobweb. I loved allready the first one. Daring. Hot. Shameless. And I revealed to my allready melting buddy that the artist of the shop wore a big «X» inked in red and green on his face. A thing I found very, very erotic. «Maybe you’ll want an «X» on your chin too!» He blushed. I was probably right. He was ready for a big, big change.

I had however to take him before to a barber. A bad one. A butcher. Somebody who would destroy with an Oster his silky long hair. Or even better, I could use on him, at home, the old handclipper I recently bought in a fleemarket. I showed him the instrument itself. I indicated him the way to I would use to remove hair. «I just have to crush the blade as close as I can on your skull.» He was horrified, but consenting when I saw him for the third time a week after. He trembled like a leaf. I did pull as high as I could the long brown thick lock he wore on his forhead. «It’s the last time you see it in a mirror, man.» I took my scissor and cut it very short. Ten seconds after I cuted and cuted his mop with an incredible enjoyment. He saw the curls fell to floor, and said in a whisper: «Do what you want, I’m totally yours.» I should have proposed to lock his rather small penis in a metal cage. I know a boy who is tightly caged in a chastity belt since five years by his master. You can buy that kind of things on Amazon, now. But I did’nt. I’m not really sadistic.

I shaved him then savagely with the hand clippers, holding his head tight between my knees. He trembled even more. I did tear out his trousers and underpants. I did plunge my thumb deep into his asshole. I then f***ed him very hard. It was easy, to easy maybe to get into his hole. I was surely not the first one to treated him like a fag. He groaned a lot and kissed me like a madman after I cumed in his ass for the third time. I spited in his mouth. He spited in mine. I pissed on his face. I drank his piss. We were pals now. No limits, mutual spanking included! That was a deal. Too important for me, the paddle on the buttocks! My father never spanked me, so I discovered that pleasure very late thanks to a muscular and violent barkeeper. A brute with a wonderful scar on the left temple. He whiped me sometimes with his leather belt before we had sex. Rough sex. He wanted even to mark my chest with a red iron, but a I was afraid… I was a baby. I should have accepted it. But a was still afraid of Father and Mother who could’nt guess how red my bottom was since weeks.

One year after, our bodies have changed. Our cocks were not forgotten. We have both a thick Prince Albert, pierced through our redisch glanses. It hurted in the beginning. It hurted again when the professional made te hole bigger, but it was a part of the fun. Our heads are different too. The laser girl is doing miracles. Everybody can see that lot of hair is now missing. We are part baldies. I love to rub in public the naked skin of my bro or to lick it before the eyes of everybody. In thourteen months, I took in addition to that thirty five pounds of nice flesh. I’m now 215 pounds. It’s not yet spectacular, but I am clearly overweight now. I could’nt hide it anymore if I would like to. The next year will become, I hope, the one of my belly explosion. I’ll be, who knows, 235 pounds next january. The bodyhair is the best result till now, thanks the pills and many hormone shots of the doctor. I have an hairy chest, hairy legs and the the man promised me that in one or two years I would have a furry back. «With long curly hairs». I can’t wait for that! I want the back of an ape.

My partner, as we are working together now in a small shop that we opened for freaks like us, is happy too. His brown hair is easier to remove as my black one. «Permanently», as the girl promissed. He took fourty pounds in twelve months. More than me, lucky boy! But he did a diet before, because he had a lucky tendance to expand since his childhood. He keeps his now very round face hairless. You probably guessed why. My friend haves now a colorful «X»tattoed on his left chin. Bigger as the one of the tattoist. And he certainly does’nt regret it! He quickly became a tattoo fan indeed. Almost an addict. He thinks therefore I should also have bold face tattoos too. «It so hot, you know. I would love to see you with a full black maori moko.» But I’m not ready. I have in the moment not a beard, but thick black mutton chops. Like a fat Elvis Presley at the end. Mutton chops are very vulgar, specially with no hair at all on the top of the head. I saw it for the the first time on a fat and attractive skinhead, and I became immediately horny. I love mutton chops. Specially on heavy and large guys. They made them look coarse and rude, specially when they split on the floor.. And I love very much coarse and rude things.

Everything goes as we planned. We will be huge in some years. Real musky bears. A little thing is however missing to my complete happyness. My neck remains too thin. Far too thin. I dream since I’m a boy of a neck as large as a bull. With an enormous double chin. Something that would make explode the collars of my lousy shirts. Like the ones of the beefy american policemen. Great exciting male cops! And that even if I open in fact my shirts to show people my chest with long and black hair. Double chins are so sexy. There is fortunatly a solution. It’s my idea. Why not silicon’s injections? Te doctor said «why not indeed», when I visited him a month ago. He’s very excited by the idea. Good man! We will do it next week. I will also have a big, big fold in the back, like some heavy wrestlers. The ones with wonderfull broken noses. But who will smash my nose without a big pain to please me? «I’ll make it as bad looking and agressive as I can», said the doctor. But you will look much older.» Mmmmm! Some people believe before I’m already forty….

I’ll think sometimes with my partner. What comes after? The mysterious future. But we know both there is no turning back anymore. No hair forever on our heads. Lot of outrageous ink, and now I badly want to do my hands with something wild. Maybe bulldogs in full colors. Tattoos for holligans. Allways visible. We will weigh as many pounds as possible. «I’m ready now to go until 300», told my buddy in bed last night, after he swallowed my second load in the mouth. Me too. I’ll be maybe 300 pounds at 25-26 years, with a great swinging belly kept high and firm by large colorfull suspenders. And I will be obese forever. Like him. Just a flat and sad note. With his metabolism, my buddy can hope 360. I can’t. But that’s fantastic experience anyway! No diet will ever melt us then. The more we would loose, the more we would regain in a short time. And who wants to be thin? You maybe, but not us. Too much is not enough. Never enough.

What can I say for the end? The pretty boy I was is now really dead, even if I’m still waiting for my neck and if I have found no solution yet to get the spectacular crooked nose of a fighter. I love to see the the middle aged man I became in the mirror. He pleases me. «You’re became indeed a very sexy man», told me the laser girl a month ago. «For me bigger is allways better.» Yeah! And the strong smell? I keep my XXL t-shirts for at least two weeks, even with the rings under my arms. I seldomly change my humid underpants. And I don’t know if a good girl really should care for hairy balls wich reek like hell, as my partner does. «Real men stink a lot», she said as she had her nose sniffing long between my legs. «It’s delicious. I think I’ll sniff now your hairy ass. I hope it’s crusty.» I laughted, scratched my shaggy sweaty chest and answered with a big smile. «Be reassured. It’s certainly dirty.»

Comments
Obviously, etienne has a problem with niceness, with elegance and with many other concepts the males that we are like. Obviously he dislikes what we like on this site. Let him create his own site based on uglyness.
by thadeusz on 06 Feb 2022
Problem is some people only like constructive criticism if it's not criticism, just a rave review. Not how it works. Opinions are just opinions but people are allowed to have them. I don't see much here but for a fat fetish site it would be great
by Nodyne on 15 Jan 2022
Titan, perhaps in this case, where the subject matter is not only not haircut related, but making life choices that are dangerous to an individual's health and reflect what are commonly understood to be unhealthy grooming practices, are the reasons there are more negative comments on this content. Will part II deal with contracting Type II diabetes or perhaps, scabies or insect-borne deseases from lack of good hygeine?
by disgusted on 14 Jan 2022
Well said Titan. The world would be a boring place if everybody liked the same thing...
by JamesTheFirst on 14 Jan 2022
I would like to also say that the degrading comments do not have a place here. If someone offers a story and you don’t like the subject matter….don’t read it. Simple.
Isn’t it better that people are offering up their fiction to all interests rather than no one writing?
Maybe more constructive criticism would be better in future.
by Titan on 14 Jan 2022
No, James. It's just a bunch of repulsive tropes strong together by someone who is more into that than hair stories. There is indeed room for all kinds of voices here. But this is more about the "joys" of being obese and repulsive than it is with hair. There are no doubt places for this kind of story. I just don't believe that this site is where it belongs. I guess everyone has a different idea of what is "really exciting."
by Kwizz on 13 Jan 2022
That's a bit harsh, Saywhat. There's a lot of merit in this story, with some really exciting sections. Nobody's special interest is exactly the same - do what the rest of us do, and just skip over the bits that don't do anything for you. I think it's a good job for someone whose first language isn't English.
by JamesTheFirst on 13 Jan 2022
It's not that you're a happy freak./ It's that your're a terrible writer. I'm not even sure this story belongs here.
by Notie on 12 Jan 2022
I disagree I really like the whole idea behind this story - something similar to my life. English is clearly not your first language - maybe get someone to check it through and edit it next time
by Stinkykev on 11 Jan 2022
Full of gross-out imagery for shock value. Atrocious spelling and grammar. Even worse than School Grey Shorts and I didn't think that was possible. Post this trash elsewhere.
by Saywhat on 11 Jan 2022