Parents. (part 2) by strictsir

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I am writing the continuation of the story: Parents
My name is Dario. After my parents revealed my Storybook titled: My Bad and Strict Parents. After reading my fantasy about strict and uncompromising parents, my father began to change his approach to my upbringing according to my stories. Just before Christmas in 1974, I got my first spanking on my bare bottom with a cooking pot.
According to my other stories, my father took me to the barber despite the fact that I was 13 years old and in a month I will be 14. It was not a unisex salon that I went to, but it was a classic men's old-fashioned Stanley barbershop, where only one barber worked.
In the barbershop, the father met a gentleman who brought his son, who was a year older, to get a haircut. The boy's father talked a lot and explained to my father, later I learned that he talked about how he was raising his son.
After returning from the barbershop, I was excited about the humiliation and short haircut, but my friends and classmates who had long hair made fun of me and I didn't like that at all. After Christmas, I apologized to my parents for what I wrote and asked for their forgiveness. I want to take it all back.
In the house next door, I have a friend, Pablo, with whom my father also goes to the Stanley barbershop. He regularly got his classic short haircut on the second Saturday of the month.
After the New Year, we started going to school, when I looked at the calendar for the year 1975, Saturday 11.1. was Stanley's remark. My father probably wrote this notice before I apologized to my parents and asked them to return everything.
On Saturday morning 11.1. my father told me to be dressed at 9:00. I asked where we were going and he answered very briefly: To the barber. At first I was excited that I had to go to the barber with my father, but then I realized that on Monday at school I would have to face the ridicule of my classmates. That's why I started protesting that I don't want to go to the barber, that I have short hair on the sides of my head, about only 1 centimeter.
Dad got angry, and before I knew it, I had a bare ass that I had taken a much bigger beating than it had been in December. I screamed in pain, I cried, and I said: Dad, I'm going to get dressed and go with you to the Stanley barbershop, just stop hitting me on the ass.
When we entered the barbershop, a man and his son, whom the father met 3 weeks ago, were sitting on the waiting chairs. My father sat next to the gentleman and I next to the boy I met. His name is Filip. I heard my father complaining to the master that I refused to go with him to the barber in the morning and he had to spank my ass. To that, Filip's father replied: The discipline of boys begins with regular visits to the barber shop. Discipline is also based on timely completion of tasks, time discipline, decent behavior, and children have nothing to discuss about what parents or teachers order them to do. At that, Filip whispered in my ear, don't let your father take advice from my father, because you'll end up like me and you'd better keep your mouth shut if you don't want to receive a severe punishment.
At that, the barber was already calling another customer, so Filip got up and went to the barber. When asked how to cut this child's hair, his father gave instructions on how to make his hair look. When Filip was shorn, he had a haircut like Pablo's.
Filip again sat down on the waiting chair next to me and we talked about school and interests. It didn't take long and I, too, went slowly to the barber's chair with a sore ass. When asked by the barber, how are we going to cut this child's hair, Filip's father exclaimed. This boy needs a special military haircut because he is rude to his parents. The barber looked at my father and he agreed. I saw in the mirror that Filip covered his face with his hands. I felt great excitement in my crotch but also great tension with the new hairstyle. I saw in the mirror that Pablo also entered the barber shop accompanied by his father. I didn't want Pablo to see me going to get a haircut.
But the barber already pushed my head back and applied the scissors to my forehead. When the scissors went down it was like a head massage. He went all over the top of my head, he repeated this movement about 5 more times when I could straighten up and see myself in the mirror. I didn't have hair longer than 6 millimeters on the top of my head. The barber replaced the scissors and started cutting the hair on my left side from my cheekbone to my temple to the edge of my crown. He did the same above my ear and was already pushing my head forward and cutting the hair at the back of my neck. He tilted my head to the side again to cut the hair on the right side of my head as well.
While he was brushing the hair on the sheet around my neck with a small whisk, I could see that I had very little stubble on either side of my head. He then applied the foam to both sides and the back of my neck and gradually scraped it off. He applied an oily liquid to the short hair on top of my head and rubbed it into my hair. Before I left the barber's chair, I looked at my military haircut in the mirror. The sides of the head were completely shaved and only very short hair on the crown. It was my shortest hair cut I ever dreamed of. I thanked the barber for the haircut so he knew I was well-mannered.
When I came to the waiting chairs, Pablo said to me with a smile: Dário, you won't need a comb for a long time.
In front of the barbershop, Philip's father told my father. We will meet again in Stanley barber shop in 3 weeks.

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