Bad week. by Vykonavatel77

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Michael, you will go to Uncle Casper in a very small town for a week empty handed, my father informed me. What? I don't want to go to him, I protested. But my protest didn't help, and I went to Uncle Casper's for a week at the beginning of the holidays. I was very afraid because he was very strict and I saw how he punished his son by beating him on his bare buttocks with a belt. His son, Ed, was a year older than me and was already 13 years old. Ed never had long hair that covered his ears, which was unfashionable for boys in the 70s. I used to go with my mother to a UNISEX barbershop once every 2-3 months to get my hair done.
The holidays at Uncle Casper's went well. I counted every day and was glad that Ed and I didn't get spanked on our bare bottoms. It was the evening of the fifth day at Uncle Casper's, when one of the boys brought cigarettes, which all of us boys present smoked. Unfortunately for us, an old man saw us and told Uncle Casper. He called Ed, pulled down his pants and gave him a good spanking on the backside until he was completely red. Then I got too, I screamed after every blow. But our suffering did not end with the beating. The uncle informed us that we were both going with him to the local barber. I was afraid that I would have short hair like Ed.
Uncle Casper led us to a small barber shop nearby. The light was off in the barber shop and I was glad I wasn't going to get a haircut. Uncle, he told us to wait and went around the house. I started laughing that we wouldn't get a haircut. Ed, he said the barber lives in this house where the barber shop is. At that, Uncle Casper had already returned, and a few minutes later it was lit up in the barbershop. I heard the keys unlocking the door and we found ourselves in a small old fashioned barbershop. The barber was an older, about 55-year-old slim man. He put on a white coat and pointed to me and said: boy come sit here and pointed to his chair. After wrapping me in a sheet, he turned to his uncle and asked: Do boys get a special boy's haircut for smoking? Uncle said he would like something special. The barber asked if he would use 1 and then smooth? The uncle agreed. I didn't know what they were talking about.
I looked in the mirror, I saw Ed lowering his head and starting to shake it as if he didn't want to believe the words he just heard. The barber had already tilted my head back, all I could see was the smoky ceiling. The barber put the clipper on my forehead and ran it over the top of my head, then repeated it several more times. It was a new, strange feeling for me that I had not known before. The barber tilted my head to one side and cut the hair on the side of my head. When he put my head forward and my chin was touching my chest on the sheet I could see my 7-8 inch long hair. I started shaking with fear. When the barber cut the hair on the other side of my head as well, I had a chance to straighten myself. When I looked in the mirror, I was scared at first, then I saw that I only had about 3 millimeters of stubble on my whole head. The barber changed the blades on the clipper and started cutting me on the sides of my head and the back of my head, where I had about a millimeter of stubble left. When he turned off the shears, he released the sheet. I wanted to jump off. The barber shook the sheet from my hair and told me. Sit down, I said it would be smooth! I obeyed. The barber wrapped me in a sheet again and applied foam to the sides and back of my head. He slowly scraped off the foam. When the barber finished my scalping, I only had 3 millimeters of hair on the top of my head, the rest of my head was clean shaven. Then I was replaced by Ed and he was cut exactly like me. On the way home, Ed told me that he had never had a haircut this short before, and he didn't expect the barber to punish us like this for smoking.
After returning home, my father liked my hairstyle. He said he had a similar hairstyle when he was a soldier.

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