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"You all know the drill. 50m freestyle. One on one. Brackets have been determined. Loser gets clipped. Overall winner gets to shave one guy bald. No whining. No teasing. Brock and Harry are up first," Daniel hollered into the echoing natatorium.
Our start of season college swimming ritual at Belbrook university was brutal to most. Most of all the lack of choice in it. I remembered last year when one guy refused. The team pinned him in the locker room and took head hair, eyebrows, leg hair, arm hair, and armpit hair. Even through the ridicule, the tradition was held up. It was a glorious idea in concept: only our top swimmer would be left beautiful. Or so they said. Antonio losing his shoulder length black hair had been a change so good he couldn’t deny it and maintained it himself.
Personally, my heartbeat quickened at the thought of being mowed down like last year. The stares. The comments. The pain of growing it out. The pain of hiding my love for it. They all contributed to the fast tempo of the drum in my chest.
I hadn’t been able to maintain my shearing like Antonio because of the spectacle I had put up beforehand. I had been so nervous and made a fool of myself. This year I would straighten that out. Act like I had reconsidered my stance and kind of liked it now.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t intending on losing on purpose. I wasn’t the best swimmer on the team, so I was going to lose at some point. I would win what I could, and enjoy the shearings I earned.
I felt someone slap my butt and push me toward the pool as they chanted "Harry!" in comically deep voices. I felt the elastic strap of my goggles pull at my skin and hair as I slapped them over my face and stepped to the edge of the pool. To my left Brock filled his swim cap with water and pulled it over his feathered blonde locks he had been growing out. I shook my head at the idea of growing your hair out as a swimmer. Like asking to lose.
"On your mark!" My body hunched over in reflex and gripped the edge of the pool.
"Go!" I launched off. The cold came quickly as I hit the water. My muscles worked desperately as I powered along. As the wall came up I prepared myself and folded my body over in time. My feet planted themselves solidly to the tile and I pushed off. In the edge of my vision I saw Brock just ahead of me. I couldn’t let that happen. I wasn’t losing my first race. The first race. My arms ached and my lungs burned as I rationed my breaths and pushed myself to the other end. And done. My hand slammed into the tile and I pushed myself out of the water. I cleared my face of water and hair and looked to my right to see Brock just surfacing. A clear victory.
The boys whooped loudly as they helped us out of the pool. Several pulled at Brock's hair after they snatched his swim cap, but Daniel scolded them. Daniel was the eldest member of the team. Maybe not literally, but he was the most mature and leader-like senior. Instinctually I knew his strawberry blonde hair was staying on his head today.
Brock looked solemnly to the foldout chair where the clippers were hooked up, probably a safety hazard but we didn’t care. Brock quivered gently in the chair due to the coldwater and his nerves. I gave him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, but she kept on quaking. Until Daniel stepped up.
Daniel dropped a towel onto Brock’s head and dried his hair before placing it in the loser’s lap. Brock quickly began to wipe down the rest of his body as Daniel cleared his throat and the boys began to shush one another.
"As a senior I would like to kick off our season with a speech," Daniel projected into the indoor pool. We all expected something grand on some level, but at the same time no one would stand that. And Daniel proved me right. "I would love… for all of you… to… swim, go bald, and get crazy!"
I took this as my cue and pulled Brock into an upright position and dragged the bare clippers over his scalp from forehead to crown. The natatorium magnified the triumphant yells as the groups split and more splashes rang out. Most went to watch the races, but some stayed crowded around me as I shore Brock. The clippers vibrated powerfully as they crunched through his hair and deposited it to the ground. I carried out the cut with a strong left hand that moved his head in preparation for the right one that cut. I tried not to enjoy the cut too much when my fingers brushed the fresh stubble. It was so soft, but I assured myself I would have some of my own to feel later. I couldn’t give myself away now. Not like Brock.
As his blonde locks fell onto his bare chest, I couldn’t help but notice the excitement from his midsection. Our speedo uniforms didn’t leave much to the imagination.
With the bulk cut, I ran the humming device all over his scalp again to ensure a thorough shearing. Brock stood up with shame. His face looked strange with a white scalp above it and no curtains to line it. To make sure there were no hard feelings, we hugged on it. Many ooo-ed sarcastically knowing they’d have to do it too. As I walked away, Borck was served his final shame: a broom to clean up the mess. More cheering resounded as another boy was shoved into the chair and the process began again.
I watched the races patiently as Daniel filled the races. When boys climbed out of the pool, there was a rush to get a chair and clippers. I waited until my name was called again… along with Max’s. Max had an undying rivalry with Daniel as a fellow senior like most boys. Unlike most boys, Daniel reciprocated the feelings. They were both prodigies who had been victors and victims of the tradition. Both had lost their freshman year, then Daniel had won their sophomore year and shaved Max. Last year Daniel had lost and been shaven by Max. THe tension peaked this year to see which one would come out on top.
I was good, but not as good as Max and he knew it. He had a mighty body with pale, muscular skin and thick blonde hair that reached his upper back. He mocked me with a smile and lack of a swim cap as we took positions. The call to go off sounded and my body quickly performed the race for me. I lost. I knew it was going to happen, but I was still sad I’d only dished out one haircut.
"Come on. Don’t drag your feet or cry," Max laughed. I yelped in surprise and pain as he grabbed my wet hair and pulled me along behind him. He quickly found a chair and clippers. He started my haircut at once. I shivered as he brutally skinned the top of my head with fast, erratic strokes. He pulled at my head aggressively as he took my hair down. I watched my hair fall onto the tile. I tried to fight back, but everytime I moved or expressed pain, he slapped my head.
As quickly as it started, it ended. Max switched off the clippers and wandered away. I reached up to feel the results. Instead of smooth grain, I felt disgusting patches of hair. I felt like crying. I had been cheated out of the one thing that this day was supposed to give me: a hot haircut. Someone handed me a broom and I began to solemnly erase traces of the massacre. In my peripheral vision I saw Daniel approach me. I tried to shrink away to keep him from noticing me, but he grabbed my hand. I tried to pull away, but he simply kept his grip. Finally, I looked up and saw his kind brown eyes staring back at me.
"Come on. Let’s get you fixed up."
He led me to an empty chair as the one I was in had been taken. As I sat down, he took a seat behind me, nearly shoving me off, and pulled me close. A passing guy handed off a pair of buzzing clippers and they immediately were put to work on my head. I winced and wriggled as the warm appliance made contact with my scalp. Daniel remained steadfast with a firm arm that restrained my movement.
"No squirming," he said softly, "I don’t wanna cut you."
His velvety voice calmed me. The way my ears perked up to it as he whispered into my ear was something else. Then there was his soft skin, no doubt shaped by his excessive time spent in chlorinated water. I quaked with pleasure as his supple fingers ran over my skin and steered my head. I gave into his broad chest as he expertly used the clippers to remove the uneven hair. My composure melted even more when he held down one of my ears to get a spot. I was aroused by his slow long strokes and I hissed when he wiped away spots, the motion against the grain causing my cock to twitch.
I had to resist pulling at his arm when he finally finished and got up to attend a race. He sensed my longing without action and turned to assure me.
"They’ll be more," he said with a light laugh, "Trust me on that."
Then, he leaned down and kissed me on the head. My cheeks glowed like hot coals as he walked away. At that moment I was so happy I thought I would explode.
I returned to my spot on the bleachers, but I couldn’t focus on anything except Daniel. While it was fresh in my mind, I replayed the memory of my shearing and wished it had been a full one. I stared blankly at the water as I daydreamed and race after race went by until the final one was here.
The natatorium roared with energy as the rivals lined up like we had all been anticipating. A loud call silenced us at once.
"Ready…" They both came to their respective lanes for us all to see.
"On your mark…" They bent over and their muscular bodies stretched into position out of habit.
At once the cheering resumed as they splashed into the water. My voice roared for Daniel as they blitzed through the water. I held my breath as they began to come back toward us still even. To everyone’s shock, Daniel pulled ever so slightly ahead. It was insignificant in any other race, but here? It was enough. Daniel won to my delight. The crowd chanted loudly for Max’s shearing. Daniel only held up a hand and the room fell silent.
"I’m not up to the task of shearing him. I believe that right belongs to those he butchered and disrespected."
Voices from around the room roared in agreement with my own. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad afterall.
"While you all do that," Daniel continued, "I’ll be claiming my prize. Harry? Where are you?"
My heart stopped. He couldn’t mean me, right? He wouldn’t waste his privilege on me who lost in the second round. Couldn’t be.
I was proven wrong as the crowd parted and Daniel took my hand as he passed me, dragging me toward the showers. Guys cheered and awed as I was dragged away in a state of shock. The echoing shouts were finally muffled when we entered the locker room. In front of a mirror, a chair was sat out facing it with clippers, shaving cream, and a razor resting on the sink. Before he could sit me down, I pulled Daniel to a stop and asked him simply and breathlessly "Why?"
"I’m not allowed to tell you, but this should answer your question."
Then he kissed me. Passionately. Wonderfully. Our bodies rubbed against one another causing more spasms from my crotch. As we pulled apart, I was horrified to find that a trickle of white fluid was flowing down my leg. Daniel gave me a quick smile before getting on the floor and using his tongue until it hit my speedo. I nearly fell over as he came up, but he caught me.
"Let’s get started. Swimsuit off. In the chair."
I took my speedo off and put it in his open hand. He looked inside and sniffed it.
"Woo! You are gonna be fun."
I took my seat and he began to fiddle with the clippers.
"To become an excellent swimmer you must make sacrifices. Usually that choice is given to the athlete if they want to make that choice. Not for you."
Finally the clippers fired on and he took my leg onto his chest as he seated himself on the edge of the sink. And then he buzzed.
I groaned and moaned while Daniel manipulated my body to get the clippers to take my hair. As he did so, he kissed my skin and shushed my moans. He took my legs out quickly followed by my chest and crotch. I’ve never had to hold myself back to such an extent as when he erased my bush. I melted more as he took my budding beard and arm hair. When the clippers finally turned off I was ordered to shower. The water felt strange on my stubble covered body.
When I came back, Daniel toweled my dry, but left me damp. Then came the shaving cream. My endurance was beginning to give out, making things worse. A white pool had now collected in my chair as I continued to drip. He repeated the process even slower as he worked to make my skin smooth. Everything was fine until he came to my scalp.
After an hour of playing with my body, Daniel finally got up and let me sit. Then the razor came as it scratched over my head, erasing the last of the stubble. It held it for as long as I could, but as he ran his hand over my smooth scalp I burst. I cried out as I let out streams onto the floor. To my surprise Daniel took his penis out and jerked himself the rest of the way, then squirted onto my scalp. I moaned even louder as I felt the hot liquid hit my head. As our orgasms faded Daniel led me back to the showers and we showered together as his hands traced my hairless body.
"So much better," he whispered into my ear as he pulled me close, "You’ll cut right through the water."
I grunted in agreement. He was my senior. He had to be right.
Later as I itched uncomfortably in my clothes and admired my pale scalp in the mirror, I got a text from Daniel.
"Send me pics when you shave in the morning."
‘If I don’t," I replied.
"I’ll take the pics myself and you’ll get extra laps during warm ups."
It only dawned on me then. Daniel was now my coach. He was going to make me the best swimmer I could be no matter how I got there. Strangely I wasn’t scared, but aroused. Daniel couldn’t be a bad coach. Right?