The shortest flattop of the three by Manny

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Carlos smiled as he surveyed the stylist's work on his lustrous, chocolate-colored locks. All the time spent with the blow dryer had yielded him his best look ever.

"Very nice, very nice," Carlos murmured as his stylist beamed. "You left it a bit fuller and a bit longer in back than usual, no?"

"Indeed! You noticed! Your hair is so nice, a bit longer in back shows it off even better, don't you think?" the stylist replied.

"But, in front...." Carlos began, a bit hesitatingly.

"The usual length. A more business-like look. Nice and tidy around the ears. With your hairline beginning to recede..." the stylist commented apologetically.

Carlos blushed. The ugly truth had never ever been acknowledged aloud at the salon.

"But, it's not too bad. Just a bit of natural thinning -- very normal for a man your age," the stylist was quick to interject, sensing a faux pas. "It makes you look very distinguished, elegant, very manly....a slight bit of thinning, really. Not male pattern baldness or anything serious. Maybe too much stress in the office?"

The stylists' hands smoothed the silken hair reassuringly.

"Yes, it's been hectic. And we have a raft of new hires. Young fellows eager to make their mark!" Carlos said, thinking about his evening plans. "Full of energy, full of testosterone!"

"Leave it full and longer like this in back, or shall I cut it shorter?" the stylist asked.

"Like it is! I like the new length," Carlos said decisively. "Plus, I'm in a hurry. I have a date this evening...."

Some quick duster action, and then off came the starchy white cape.

Carlos emerged from the chair clad in his expensive Canali suit from work. He gave himself the once-over in the mirror, and smiled approvingly at the image. His mustache looked particularly sexy, he thought to himself. His hair shimmered exquisitely in the lights of the salon.

He drove straight to the Copacabana Lounge where he was meeting one of his new team members for drinks. Carlos felt a bit stressed about the budding romance with the young fellow. His blossoming interest in a subordinate was totally against company policy...that is, if it were to become a full relationship. But, to date, it had been just some flirtation....a bit of very casual physical contact. Plus, Nick had been the instigator of the plan to discuss the upcoming off-site over drinks and had made the reservation at the lounge.

"He's already here," the hostess told Carlos. She led him to a very private and dark part of the lounge.

Young Nick looked like an absolute stud with his tight shirt unbuttoned casually. Carlos noticed that Nick too had gotten a haircut after work -- his flattop shorn to a very military length with lots of skin showing and shimmering.

"Sorry, I'm a bit late," Carlos said as he pulled out a chair.

"Come sit here in the booth with me," Nick said with a wink. "It'll be easier to review the plans I brought with me for the off-site."

Carlos hesitated. Should he?

Nick patted the seat right next to him and cooed, "What happens in the Copacabana Lounge, stays in the Copacabana Lounge!"

Carlos slipped into the booth.

"We both got haircuts after work," Carlos said, examining Nick's smooth, wide landing strip.

"Except I went to a real barber, and you..." Nick's fingers plunged into Carlos' coiffed executive cut. "And you, you are still needing a proper haircut."

His fingers grasped the plush mane at Carlos' nape that had been the object of adulation at the salon. He yanked it just enough to make it hurt a bit.

"I'm going to take you to my barber shop tomorrow. Clippers right up the back...leave this old fogey look on the linoleum floor!" Nick taunted.

Carlos' groin shot to attention. Young Nick couldn't be serious! But there was no doubt, the strapping, muscular lad was asserting dominance....and Carlos felt pleasure in his own submissiveness. The thought of Nick marching him into a traditional barbershop made him swoon with desire. How he wanted the young pup to subdue him!

"My hair is my best asset," Carlos sniffed protectively, putting up a bit of playful resistance.

"Once it's all been shaved off, perhaps...and this ridiculous little mustache must go too!" Nick laughed as he fingered the hairy upper lip.

Carlos squirmed in the booth; Nick seized him by his little friend and stimulated him until he could hardly contain himself.

Right before he exploded with delight, the cocktail waitress appeared to take their drinks order.

"Gentlemen, what I can I serve you? Manhattans and whisky sours are our specialty drinks this evening," she purred, not oblivious to the fact that she had interrupted an intimacy.

She took their order, and then commented, "You have such amazing hair, sir! I love the style. So elegant! The younger set with their crewcuts and flattops are such a turn-off," she smirked, but gave Nick a sexy wink as she swished past him in her mini-skirt -- her shapely thighs right at his eye level.

Carlos took the opportunity to smooth his groomed locks into place and to scoot a bit away from Nick's dominating clutches.

"I believe we came here to discuss business," Carlos said, trying to gain control of the situation.

"You are my business -- such a handsome big boss! So ripe for a young stud like me to screw you in your big office chair," Nick teased. "The way your eye follows me around the office...was it love at first sight?"

Carlos blushed. "I think so," he confessed shyly.

"Then, let me take you to the barber shop tomorrow morning. Once your hair has been cut to a decent length, I'll find you more to my liking, Carlos," the confident lad answered.

Again, the thought of Nick marching him into a small, traditional blue collar barber shop excited Carlos. A grumpy old geezer wielding the clippers. A suffocatingly tight cotton cape and Nick gleefully giving the instruction, "Flattop!"

"Will it be cut as short as yours?" Carlos asked, toying with the idea.

Nick grinned broadly. "Oh, so you would do it....for me?!"

The young man leaned forward and kissed Carlos on the lips. His fingers again plied into his boss' silken, plush mane. Carlos crumpled under Nick's advances.

"Once you're caped in the chair, I will decide on the length. But all this in back is coming off, and it's going to be perfectly flat on top!" Nick announced as he toyed with the groomed locks about Carlos' nape.

"You'll be the total boss in the barbershop. I will be quiet, submissive and at your mercy in the chair," Carlos said, surging with excitement.

After the drinks had been served, Nick returned to the barber shop topic, "I want you wearing his exact suit when I take you to Jim's Barber Shop tomorrow morning. Tie, cufflinks and all!"

"But it'll be Saturday," Carlos argued.

"And, after your hair has been cut short, we're going to drop by the office. There's another fantasy I have....that huge mahogany desk you usually sit behind in the fancy executive suite...ordering people around."

"Go on," Carlos said.

"You won't be sitting behind it...." Nick giggled. "And those nicely tailored slacks? Instead of up, over your shapely ass....they'll be around your ankles as I lean you over the desktop, very firmly!"

"Oh, Nick!" Carlos gasped. "You will be gentle with me...."

"You're the best boss one could ever hope for, Carlos!" Nick replied, thinking about how much fun his Saturday would be.

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The next morning, precisely at 10:00 a.m., Carlos emerged from his house, just as Nick had specified. He was dressed in his Canali suit with his hair brushed perfectly in place and secured with a light coating of hair shellac.

Nick waved from his sports car. He was clad in jeans and an ultra-tight tee that clearly showed his abs and flat stomach.

"Climb in, boss!" he called out.

Carlos felt nervous and excited, all at once, as he closed the car door. He was instantly conflicted between a desire to go along submissively without saying a word, and, on the other hand, begging Nick to spare him from too short of a haircut. Even the longest flattop was bound to fill the office with chatter. But to be shorn and peeled like a grape....that would be cataclysmic.

"You got your executive coif totally perfect this morning," Nick laughed as he poked at the sprayed helmet of hair. "Hope the barber doesn't need a hammer and chisel to get through the masonry here!"

"That waitress last night sure thought my hair was sexy," Carlos reminded Nick.

"But I want almost all of it shaved off! I have a notion to tell the barber to take you down to the wood -- all over! CUEBALL!" Nick exclaimed.

"Oh, no!! Please, Nick! I beg you." Carlos felt flush in the face, that he had given into begging like that.

Then he noticed that they were driving toward the office.

"Is your barber shop near the office?" Carlos asked.

"No, but I thought it would be fun to have a before and after session with you leaned over your desk," Nick said as he turned into the parking lot. "Will I like you better, submissive with an exec coif or submissive with a flattop?"

The two entered the building with their badges and headed to the executive suite. Fortunately, the place was empty. Nick hustled Carlos into his office and began pulling off his jacket.

"Drop your pants!" the young martinet ordered.

Carlos felt excited as his hot subordinate wrenched down his briefs, leaned him over the desk and started playing with the thick locks at his nape.

But, before any action could begin in earnest, the office door flew open.

"What's going on in here?" a security guard demanded.

The two were stunned by the intrusion, unable to speak. Neither wanted to identify himself either.

Carlos watched the guard take a set of handcuffs off his belt. "Young man, lean over the desk like the other man there!"

In a flash, the guard cuffed Nick.

Then he reached for the other set of handcuffs on his belt. As he went to cuff Carlos, he sputtered, "Mr. Sanchez? Is that you, sir?! What's happened? Has this young man attacked you?"

To save face, Carlos went along with that story line, "Yes, he came out of nowhere and overwhelmed me. The next thing I knew...."

"...he was going to force himself on you!" the guard exclaimed. "I'm calling the police!"

"No, please, don't!" Carlos pleaded.

The guard looked puzzled. His eyes darted back and forth. Then the penny dropped....

A sly, evil grin crept across the guard's face. "Don't call the police because there was, in fact, no attack. It will be easy enough to verify how and when this fellow came in when I rewind the security tapes...."

"Let's forget this whole incident," Carlos begged. He took two $100 bills from his wallet. "There, a little something for causing a disturbance, for causing you an inconvenience of sorts."

"Pull up your pants, Mr. Sanchez!" the guard ordered.

"Can you take off these handcuffs, sir?" Nick asked.

The guard complied.

Then, self-righteously, Nick said, "I can't believe he was going to lie and make what was happening here to seem like an assault! Certainly, he should be punished, even if he is high up the pecking chain in the company."

"I agree. What did you have in mind?" the guard asked, taking the $200 and putting it in his shirt pocket.

"A punishment haircut!" Nick exclaimed. "He's so fussy about his nicely coiffed hair."

The guard pulled off his uniform cap. "Like this?" he asked, revealing a perfect flattop -- deep pile on top with beveled edges and skinned around the sides.

"Exactly!" Nick exclaimed. "Administered by a no-nonsense barber!"

"I'm getting off shift now. Perhaps I should drive him to my barber shop! And, on the way, perhaps Mr. Sanchez will stop at an ATM -- another 10 of those bills you handed me will make the security tapes disappear, sir." The guard smiled broadly as Carlos eagerly agreed to the scheme.

"Cuff him as you march him to the car. We can't risk this naughty boy escaping," Nick suggested.

The guard had fun administering the handcuffs to the executive who looked so helpless as the underlings prepped him for a punishment haircut.

Nick took a big pair of desk scissors from the drawer. He grabbed Carlos' expensive silk tie and chopped it off right under the knot. The guard and Nick laughed at the boss' humiliation.

Finally, Nick grabbed the longish locks at Carlos' nape and delivered a haphazard hack with the shears. He tossed a chunk of shorn hair onto the desk.

"My hair," Carlos whimpered. The first chink in his helmet was now evident. More beautiful hair would come off....but only once Carlos had been made to sit in the big barber chair.

The security guard hammed it up by manhandling Carlos like a prison warden with a new inmate as the trio moved out to the parking lot.

"Next stop, the barber shop! And no whining in the chair!"

"Please take the cuffs off so I can ride normally in the car," Carlos implored.

"Sure, Mr. Sanchez," the guard replied. "Let me know where you want to stop for the ATM withdrawal."

Jim's Barber Shop was a modest place and hopping on the Saturday morning with a buzz of regulars. The inside was an array of mismatched colors -- starting with a solid red linoleum floor, hard orange plastic chairs in the waiting area, navy blue formica counter and drawers for hair cutting utensils, a collection of antique hair tonic bottles and other bric-a-brac. The only consistency was the matching barber thrones -- all white enamel bases with white arm rests and black vinyl upholstery. The chairs faced away from the mirrors as Jim, Alex and Vinny did their magic with clippers and scissors.

As the trio entered the shop, the barbers all greeted the security guard, "Hey, Andy, morning to you, your friends."

Carlos squirmed as he sat on the hard plastic chair in the waiting area. He would leave Jim's Barber Shop looking and feeling very different. It was sort of exhilarating. But, as the clients were dispatched one-by-one, and his turn under the cape approached, Carlos' excitement started to be overtaken by anxiety.

When Vinny pointed at him and called, "Next!" poor Carlos almost jumped in his seat.

Andy poked him and snapped, "To the chair," under his breath. When Carlos hesitated, the muscular security guard stood and all but ordered Carlos to follow him by means of a withering glare.

"This is one of the fellows from work. You can call him Chuck. He was admiring my flattop and said he wanted one just like it," Andy said.

Vinny motioned for Carlos to take a seat, "Oh, what happened in back here, Chuck?" the barber asked, pointing to the area where Nick had gouged off a clump of hair.

"Oh, uh, Nick there said he knew how to cut hair. But after he butchered it with his first snip, I thought we should come to the barber shop that Andy uses," Carlos explained, making things up on the spot. "He's got such a perfect, full, deep pile flattop. I want the beveled edges, too."

"Well, that's not going to work at all with your receding hairline," the barber said unapologetically as he pulled a comb straight back, revealing the weak hairline. "If you want a flattop, it's going to be mighty short, like your friend over in the waiting area."

"That'll do," Andy snapped. "Take him down, Vinny!"

With that, the barber secured a white cotton cape around Carlos' neck and reached for a powerful set of Oster's. Then, he pushed Carlos' head forward and took the screaming metal teeth tightly up the scalp all the way to the crown.

Carlos shivered as the clippers peeled off the first thick, swath of lovely chocolate-colored hair. His groin swelled with delight as he was being made to submit to a flattop by the handsome underling.

"Well, that put an end to any evidence you suffered the start of a humiliating amateur haircut, Chuck!" Vinny laughed. "I hope I become your regular barber. I love cutting first-time flats."

He ran the clippers up the back for a second time and then flicked the shorn swath so that it landed on the cape.

"No turning back now," Carlos said with a massive pit in his churning stomach.

He glanced over at Nick in the waiting area. His hot new stud muffin's hair was SOOOO short! And, soon, his own would be the same length!

The muscular lad was laughing and engaging with Andy...playfully...in a very handsy way!

Oh, no!....there was a bit of sexual tension developing between the two, Carlos could sense it....

Just as he realized what was happening, Andy stood up. "You're in good hands, Chuck. Vinny, I'm sure will scrape you nice and clean. Get that, Vinny -- lather his sides and back, okay? Nick and I are going out to have some fun. He just got paid and we're going to live it up at the driving range. See you Monday, Chuck," Andy said.

"But, how will I get home?" Carlos stammered.

"Call an Uber! Bye, now," he chirped as the two new love birds exited the shop.

"Is that Andy's new boyfriend?" the barber asked Carlos, confirming he wasn't the only one who suspected the dynamic.

"I think so," Carlos murmured, crestfallen.

He sat in silence watching mounds of his beautiful hair falling to the cape and collecting in his lap. A huge cauldron of shorn chocolate-colored hair! His hair.

Then, another memory sent a stab through his wounded spirit...the barber's terse, "well, that's not going to work at all with your receding hairline..."

Carlos cleared his voice nervously, "Tell me, Vinny, my hairline...is it just thinning a bit or receding. Anything to be worried about?"

Vinny snagged the floppy forelock and mowed it off quickly near scalp. A mass of hair added to the cauldron in his lap.

"Receding, for sure," Vinny said. "By this time next year, it should be blossoming into a very visible MPB across the top. Of course, the sides and back are still very thick. You could definitely cultivate some length in your wrap-around fringe to compensate for the loss on top. It's a good thing you're getting a flattop today, because in about five months it won't be viable at all. That's my guess. How old are you, late 50s?"

"I should say not!" Carlos exclaimed. "Just 40something."

"Well, it was very full and plush in back....but, that's all gone now. And Andy wants the sides and back lather shaved. Do you want to go ahead and have the whole thing lather shaved? A cueball? It might be better that watching your hairline recede strand by strand, each morning seeing more of your hair on the pillow and less on your head," Vinny suggested.

"Is that what you would recommend?" Carlos asked, disheartened.

The barber could sense Carlos' flagging spirit. "Why not sport a flattop for a few months?" Vinny recommended.

Carlos smiled weakly.

"Then I'll shave you clean, the whole head....just in time for summer, next year," Vinny added. "It's a wonderful, sexy feeling to have everything scraped off for the first time, so I'm told."

The chat stopped while Vinny concentrated in carving out a perfect, wide landing strip.

After that, it was lathered and scraped with a straight edge razor.

"Are you ready to see the new you?" Vinny asked.

Carlos meekly said yes. The chair swiveled about slowly.

The sight in the mirror took his breath away. A gleaming, near-bald head and a cape covered in lovely long locks of dark brown hair! It was the shortest flattop imaginable. Vinny held up a mirror to reveal the bald back. No more lovely, lush locks collecting on his collar.

"How's it look to you?" Vinny asked.

"Short, very short," Carlos gulped. "Like I'm in the military!"

"Yes, of the three friends, you definitely ended up with the shortest flattop of all!" Vinny said, unfastening the cape.

He carefully withdrew the cape and then let all the accumulated locks in it fall to the floor at his feet.

"I love to see all the hair on the floor like that after a total transformation," Vinny commented. "I took almost everything off that you walked in here with."

"I'm still getting used to my new look," Carlos whimpered.

Vinny gave him a quick shoulder massage. "I hope you don't regret coming in here today. I think you're a lot more handsome with this new very short look," the barber said as he stroked the virgin skin on Carlos' sensitive nape.

"Thank you, sir," Carlos eked out with a blush. "I'm glad a professional like you is pleased with it. How much do I owe you for the haircut?"

"There's the chart, sir. Flattops are a buck extra, so that'll be $17, please," Vinny said.

Then he added, "Did I hear you say you needed a ride home? I could take you. I'm only working half a day, and seeing that we've worked through the morning rush..."

"Oh, Vinny, that would be great! Why not the two of us get lunch, on me. There's a nice little grill on the other side of Hamilton St.," Carlos said, his eyes glowing with delight.

"Come help me slip out of my tunic," Vinny invited as he ambled into the back of the shop.

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