Caught. by Chovanec

---

In 1976 I was 15 years old. Just like most boys my age, I also had a fashionable hairstyle for that time and had long hair that covered my ears, my hair reached almost to my shoulders and I could put the tip of my bangs in my mouth. My parents used to send me to the barber 3-4 times a year for a small haircut in a modern barber shop with 6 barber chairs.
When I was around 13 years old, I first found a photo of a 50-year-old boy with very short hair in a magazine. I cut that picture out and have been searching the magazine for more pictures ever since.
When I met some boy whose parents forced him to go to some old-fashioned barbershop, I was usually excited. Then when I got home I secretly chose pictures of boys and soldiers with short hair and started masturbating to them.
I left school and, like many times before, watched an old-fashioned barbershop for a while. An approximately 10-year-old boy and his mother came out of it. He had a short haircut. I watched them from a safe distance, looking at his short haircut, the white patches of hairlessness around his ears and on the back of his head. After arriving home, I took the pictures from the hiding place and ran to the bathroom with them. I pulled down my pants and briefs and started masturbating. When the erection occurred, the father entered the toilet. I didn't know I wasn't alone at home. When my father saw me, he snatched the pictures from my hand and shouted. What are you doing? I was stunned and ashamed.
Father was surprised that the pictures were not of naked women but of boys and soldiers with haircuts. Then my father and I had a long conversation. My father had a lot of questions for me and he also asked me if I like short haircuts for boys. I admitted that I did. He also asked me if I would like to be a soldier or a policeman later, that they also have short hair. I said I don't want to do that. Or whether I wouldn't want to go to a summer military camp during the holidays. I did not agree with this proposal at all.
At dinner, my father told me that the next day after school we would meet at the school and go to the city center together. I said I would wait for him. Several times when my parents wanted to buy me something, we met at school after school.
The next day after school, my father was already waiting for me. We didn't go towards the city center, so I asked him where we were going? Father said in a powerful voice that we were going to the barber. I was embarrassed because several classmates heard it and started laughing.
I started to get nervous, because my father and I didn't even go to the modern barber shop, where I used to go with my mother and later I went alone for a little haircut.
After half an hour's drive, I saw an old house on which a tricolor cylinder was rotating, indicating a classic barber shop. I didn't know this barber shop. I broke into a cold sweat and timidly asked if we were going to the barbershop in front of us. Dad smiled and said yes and that he would be my new barber. I tried to explain to my father that I like it when someone else has a short haircut, but that I want to continue to have long hair, because otherwise my classmates will make fun of me. Well, we were already in front of the barber shop. It was warm and the door to the barbershop was wide open and locked. Above the door was the sign Sergeant Rogers Barbershop. My father entered the barber shop first, I followed him. We both sat down on the waiting chairs. The barbershop was small, outdated, with only one barber's chair, which was placed opposite the door. There were 7 wooden waiting chairs on the left and right opposite the door. In the barbershop I learned that the barber was a sergeant and used to cut soldiers' hair. The barber was about 50 years old and had a very short haircut. He was wearing khaki pants and a khaki shirt and a white jacket. Later, I learned that the barber was a former sergeant and used to cut soldiers' hair. On the walls were hung large framed pictures of mostly soldiers, but also adult men and children with short haircuts.
There were 4 old men and one about 9-year-old boy with his father sitting on the waiting chairs. The boy had about an inch of hair on the top of his head and about 3/8 inch on the back of his head and sides. I was very curious how the boy would be cut.
After about 30 minutes, the boy went for a haircut. His father went with him to the barber and told how he wanted to cut the boy's hair. I watched the cutting closely and was very excited about it. When the boy was cut on the top of his head he had 1/2 inch long hair, around his ears there was white skin shining about 2 inches above the ears and the back of his head was shining white skin 5 inches from the shirt collar.
The barber cut another older man's hair, and I was already called in for a haircut.
As I sat in the barber's chair and was wrapped in a black and white striped sheet that Sergeant Rogers had fastened tightly around the collar of my shirt I heard someone laugh. I looked in the mirror and saw two classmates from our class in the doorway. I felt like I was sitting in the electric chair. Father went to the barber and showed him one of the pictures I used to masturbate on at home. Then my father started talking to the barber, saying that I like short hair, but that I am ashamed to volunteer to have it cut like that. The barber then confirmed that there are many boys who are ashamed to admit that they want a short haircut, and that's why dad did well to come with me and I won't have the chance to back down and I won't just ask for a haircut.
As the barber combed my hair, placed a heavy clipper on my forehead, tilted my head. When the clipper buzzed, I felt it vibrate and shivers ran through my entire body. The barber kept cutting my hair and turning my head. When I had the opportunity to see myself in the mirror for a little while, I stopped breathing... My head was already in a deep bow and the barber was cutting the hair on the back of my head.
The barber brushed my hair from the sheet with a hand whisk. I saw a strange boy in the mirror. I looked like a little boy. I only had 3/32 inch long bristles on my entire head. The barber was already pushing my head forward again with the second clipper, which vibrated much more gently and cut the short hairs from the neck all the way to the top of the head. Then the cutting continued on the left and later on the right side of the head.
Looking at my new hairstyle, I felt great excitement. It was one with military hairstyles. I was ashamed in front of my classmates, who were watching my prosecution, and I didn't know how I would survive tomorrow's mockery at school. When the barber freed me from the sheet, he took out a military cap resembling a ship from the cabinet and called it a boater. He put it on my head and began to explain to my father: No hair must be visible outside the boat after the haircut. He said he cut the hair under the cap #1 which is 3/32 inch and the rest of the head is cut # 000000 which is 1/250 inch. He told dad to bring me in for another haircut in a week, my hair will grow about 1/8 of an inch in that time. If dad thinks it's too often, then there shouldn't be more than 2 weeks between haircuts, and the hair will grow about 1/4 inch. It was the soldier hairstyle I had in the pictures.
I ran my hands over my head while Dad paid for my new military haircut. I couldn't stand it and had an erection.
The classmates who watched my haircut were surprised by the drastic military haircut my father forced me to do and wanted to try stroking my head. As I walked home with my father and my classmates, my father said in a stern voice: Starting today, Sergeant Rogers is your new barber, and every Friday after school I will take you to get a new haircut for your hair that will grow in a week.
It was very difficult at school, because no one around had such a short military haircut like me. Classmates who saw my haircut confirmed that my father forced me to do it and that he will go with me to another such haircut. I got a nickname among my classmates: Recruit.
If you liked my story, I will be glad if you write about it in the comments. Well thank you.

---