Trained by Snifffffff

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Trained
Mothers, fathers, girlfriends, and friends lined up outside the university doors patiently. I looked around and was surprised to find I wasn’t the only boyfriend waiting. Maybe the school was more accepting than I had initially presumed. No matter what, the receiving area of Halman University was packed. It was mostly due to the strange break schedule. Semesters had no breaks except national holidays, but then had a 2 month break around the winter months. I hadn’t been a fan of the idea even if it meant less driving, but at least I would be able to be with Toby for a while and not feel cheated out of a real break like some of my friends. My thoughts were interrupted by the bang of the metal door and stomps of feet. Out of the building ROTC boys poured. Each one wore a brutal high and tight, freshly cut of course, with a beige decorated uniform and a heavy black bag over their shoulder. Every guy looked exactly the same. Sides buzzed to nothing and faded into slightly more fluff on top. My eyes sorted through the crowd, but it was a lost cause. I flung my arms open in a hug and waited. A tan boy broke through the flood of men and ran to me. He crashed into me as we embraced and on reflex my hands shot to his head. Toby inhaled sharply as I felt the sand-papered sides and the fluffy top. The photos the university had sent me of Toby didn’t have anything on how his head looked and felt without his caramel blonde waves. He sighed gently while I rubbed his back and muttered about how long it had been. He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes with a deep blush in his cheeks. I cupped my hands around his face and watched his green eyes widen in surprise as I kissed him.
"Hey, handsome," I teased. I couldn’t resist. He looked marginally better with this haircut and the way he blushed was a huge turn on. He blushed even harder as I pet his head again like a dog.
"Can you not do that here?" he asked meekly.
"In front of your friends?" I teased again. He nodded, embarrassed and I conceited, taking my hand away.
Just then one of the instructors came along. In contrast with the boys, his head was absent of any semblance of hair and shone in the sun. He smiled and waved as engines roared to life and cars drove off. As he came to us Toby snapped to attention and saluted the man with a "Sir!"
"At ease!" the bald man remarked with a sigh, "you’re on vacation. If you’re gonna relax, make it then." Toby’s hand fell, but his body remained rigid.
"My star student, never knowing when to stop," he said with a chuckle. He turned to me, "Take good care of him. He’s been great this semester and deserves it."
"Happy to hear it," I replied awkwardly.
"Remember your lengths?" The instructor asked Toby as he suddenly snapped back to him.
"Yes, sir!" My obedient boyfriend replied, startled. The man chuckled and began to walk away.
"Wait," I called, "does he need to keep it buzzed over break?"
"No. They’ll all be cut when they come back, so it doesn’t matter in the end. It’s really just for his comfort."
Toby finally relaxed as his teacher wandered away. Hey smiled at me and I knew it was finally time to set off.
We talked, ate, and sang for hours as the trees flew by and the tires whined endlessly. The drive was at least tolerable as we made progress, but as we neared closer to home the cars began to stack up and soon we were stuck in traffic. Impatient and tired, I cursed under my breath as my speed plummeted and the car came to a complete stop among a sea of other vehicles. I began to groan in frustration, but I felt Toby grab my hand. I looked at him in surprise as he placed my hand tenderly on his scalp. The dense forest of shorn bristles stole my attention as Toby steered my hand along his head.
"I rub my head when I get frustrated and it calms me down," he explained. I muttered a thank you as I cooled down and in no time motion was restored. I didn’t stop rubbing his head though. Our car was silent except for the barely audible radio, the tires, and the rasp of hair. Why? I couldn’t say. Maybe it was how good it felt. Maybe it was how it calmed me. Or maybe it was the small whimpers Toby let out every once in a while. And, was it my imagination or did his pants have a very tight crotch area? I only stopped when Toby fell asleep and the sun was gone.
When we arrived home I picked him up and carried him into the apartment and set him on the bed. He stirred slightly and only got up long enough to undress and pull me in close for the night.
Our next couple of days were what I could only describe as domestic bliss even if it sounded cheesy. I had always gotten along pretty well with Toby. Besides our occasional small quarrels and little things we did that bugged one another, we were great and never got into big explosive fights like other couples. Now though, he was the perfect companion. We did nothing of meaning all day and loved it. Talking, watching movies, reading books, and playing games. That was just the kosher stuff, things were wild at night. I thoroughly enjoyed Toby’s increased stamina and abs from his grueling semester. Most of all his lack of hair was amazing. The only thing that had annoyed me was when the sweaty tips whipped me, but I had accepted as an exchange for the handsome appearance it gave him. Beyond that, it felt incredible to simply touch. I indulged in the tactile adventure with every chance I got; making up excuses to feel it when I greeted him or when he made a joke.
One thing did stand out as an odd byproduct of his new experiences, however. Toby seemed more obedient. He would jump to do chores when I asked him or in our more vulnerable experiences where he rushed to fulfill my every pleasure. Still, I shrugged and accepted it as a trade-off.
Then the complaining started. It was only a couple days after we had gotten home when they started. As his haircut lost its edge, Toby began to mutter under his breath about how bad it felt. It seemed strange, as before he would go three months before the idea of a haircut came back to his head again. I tried to shrug it off, but then it worsened. His groans became constant after two weeks, when his skin disappeared under the hair. He rejected me flat out when I suggested a trip to the barbershop and again when I offered to cut it with experience from sibling haircuts from growing up, but Toby refused through grumbles. My anger peaked and I knew something needed to be done, but not what.
I sat down and brainstormed ideas. I thought of dying his hair or shaving it all off. Forcing him to grow it out? No. As I worked I realised I was trying to stop his want for a haircut, not what truly bothered me: the complaining. With that I jotted down a devious plan and grinned to myself. It was perfect.

I woke earlier than Toby as planned and immediately went to work. I carefully slept out from his embrace and worked my way to our closet. As quietly as I could I threw our clothes into a bag and hauled them into the kitchen we had. I moved a chair and other tools into position in the bathroom. Satisfied with the pre-work, I made coffee and turned on a griddle with eggs and bacon hissing in the pan. My body ached with anticipation as I heard the floor and doors creak until…
"Jack, where are my clothes?"
"Come in the kitchen and we’ll talk about it." I took a deep breath and mustered up a persona as Toby walked in covering his private parts and hunched over. I pointed to the clothes in the bag at my feet and Toby moved for them.
"Thanks. What-"
"Ahh, ahh," I wagged my finger as I chided him, "One thing first." Toby looked puzzled then horrified as I pointed to his hair.
"No, no. It’s fine. I’ll get it cut when I go back. I’m sorry for complaining." I got up from my chair and walked toward him. Toby backed up in turn as he mumbled excuses and apologies. He didn’t have much space to go and quickly backed into a couch where he was forced into a seating position. I climbed onto him and pinned his arms and legs and put my face close.
"I'm in charge and I say you’re getting a haircut." Then I kissed him.
"Yes, Sir." he whimpered.
I took him to the bathroom and had him sit down. My mind flashed back to the line I had heard from the instructor when we were leaving.
"Lengths?"
"Two on top zero on the sides, sir."
I snapped the guard into place and then the clippers came on. I quickly dragged the clippers through his forehead to me and watched the clippings accumulate. As I began to strip his crown I realized he was leaking. In my confusion my tough persona dropped into a softer tone.
"Hey, you don’t have to-" I was going to say try to look pleasured, but realized as I gazed into his brown eyes in the mirror that this was all he could not fall into a moaning mess. I shut my mouth and kept on buzzing. I noticed my own cock started to get erect after listening to Toby’s sighs of pleasure that never seemed to end. I rubbed his head as a finishing touch after I finished the top and felt a distinct twitch from my crotch. It was something about how short the hair was. How proper. The cleancut restriction of growth that induced obedience. I messaged my crotch as I gazed at the buzzed top and was surprised to find a very tight hardon present. Now in the mood, I restored my tough persona and decided to play with him a little.
"You like haircuts that much?" I asked the leaky fawcett.
"Yes, sir." Toby replied breathlessly as he stared down his penis that now poured pre-cum.
"Why?" There wasn’t a good answer to the question, but nevertheless the flushed ears and cheeks made it worth it when he answered.
"It’s only proper. Hair shouldn’t get in the way."
"Your hair was getting in the way. Do I need to cut it shorter?"
"No!" he rushed out of his mouth. Then slower. "No. I’m sorry for causing trouble. The teachers don’t let it grow so much."
"I see." I took off the guard and poised my clippers for the shearing until a thought crossed my mind. Why was Toby looking downward? Didn’t he want to enjoy the cut? Then the answer and a devious idea came to me at once. I turned Toby’s chair around and then plunged into our bathroom drawers until I found a handheld mirror. I fiddled with it for a minute until the small mirror reflected Toby’s nape. I once again picked up the clippers and ordered Toby to watch the mirror. I took the first central stroke high before pulling the clippers away. Toby gasped at the contrast and his penis emitted a glob of fluid. I had been right. He hadn’t been watching because it turned him on too much. I rubbed the stubble and grinned as he shuddered. Toby’s whimpers grew to moans as I forced him to watch me finish the cut. I quickly finished the brutal shearing of the sides and rubbed them.
"Maybe I won’t blend in the sides. This looks good," I teased.
"Please-uh do-ungh, sir." Toby begged through moans.
"Did they blindfold you at the barbershop to prevent you going off like this?" I asked as I moved to get a bigger guard.
"I don’t behave like this at the barbers, sir." Toby answered in one breath before letting out a grunt.
The rest of the cut was better, as Toby seemed to find the blending less pleasure filled. When I was finished I came around the front of the chair and forced him to spread his legs. I then got into the chair facing him and pulled him onto my body. Toby’s breathing quickened and became shouts of pleasure as I jerked him off with one hand and rubbed his head with my other. I muffled his cries with a kiss just in time for him to cum. I also couldn’t take the contrast of the sandpaper sides and his fluffy top and ejaculated into my underwear. Both of us panted as we kissed.
"Good job," I praised as he detached from me and pressed his forehead into my shoulder. "My little recruit" was all I muttered as I kissed his clippershorn scalp.

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