James’ Father Finally Gets His Way by Ashton

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James was a young boy with a head full of golden locks that cascaded down his back in soft, curly waves. He loved his hair and felt it was a part of who he was. But his father, an ex-marine, had other ideas. He believed that long hair was feminine and one day, he decided that he couldn't tolerate James' locks any longer.

"Just a trim," he said, but James knew better. His father had been talking about giving him a buzzcut for weeks, fed up with the long hair that he deemed "feminine."

"Come on, son," his father continued, leading James to the backyard. "I'm just going to trim up the ends."

James followed his father, feeling a sense of unease in the pit of his stomach.

James was nervous as he followed his father to the backyard. He had always known that his father was an ex-marine with strict views on appearance, but he never thought it would come to this. As he watched his father set up the barber chair and grab the clippers, James couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over him.

His father wrapped a towel around his neck and James could feel the cool breeze tickle the back of his neck.

"Just hold still, son," his father said, as he started up the clippers with a low hum.

Before James could even think about moving, his father began shearing off his long locks. James held his breath as the clippers moved through his hair, shaving away chunks at a time. He could feel each strand falling away from his scalp, leaving behind a bald patch. The sound of the buzz filled his ears as chunks of his long, curly hair fell to the ground

He closed his eyes, hoping and praying that it would just be a flattop, a high and tight. But as the clippers continued to buzz, James felt more and more of his hair being taken away. Strand by strand, the long locks that he'd spent years growing out were being shaved down to nothing.

He had always been proud of his long, golden locks, but now they were gone. He could feel the clippers moving closer and closer to his scalp, and he could sense that his father was only getting started. James' heart was racing as he realized that this was not just a trim. This was a full on buzzcut.

Bit by bit, his long, golden locks were shaved away, each strand falling to the ground in a sad little heap. James felt each hair being torn from his scalp

His father continued to shear off his hair, moving methodically down the back of his head. James could feel the bristles of the clippers brush against his skin, and he could hear the buzz of the blades as they worked their way through his hair. With each pass, more and more of James' hair was being shaved away, leaving behind only a stubble.

Every so often, his father would pause to check his work, and James would open his eyes to see tufts of hair scattered all around him.

Just when James thought it was over, his father pulled out a straight razor. He lathered James' head with shaving cream and began to shave off the stubble, leaving behind a smooth, bald head. James felt a chill run down his spine as the razor moved over his scalp. He could feel every swipe, every scrape, and every pull. He could feel his skin tighten and tingle with each pass of the blade.

By the time his father was finished, James' head was completely bald.

His father stepped back and admired his handiwork. "There," he said with a nod. "Now you look like a proper marine."

James ran his hand over his scalp and could feel the smooth, hairless skin. He looked at himself in the mirror, barely recognizing the boy staring back at him. He didn't like what he saw. He didn't like the way he felt. He didn't like the way his father had treated him.

But as he walked back into the house, James couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. He was strong. He was tough. He was just like his father. He may have hated the head shave, but he was grateful for the experience. He was grateful for the lesson. And he was grateful for the chance to be just like his father.

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