Death Sentence part 2 by Sockboy

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PLEASE READ PART ONE FIRST


Davey opened his eyes and found himself on his bathroom floor. He was hungover worse than he'd ever felt, he had never felt so sick. His head was pounding. He almost immediately puked, thankfully getting his head to the toilet bowl in time. He moaned and grunted in agony, feeling so bad he wasn't even aroused by waking up wearing his favorite white socks. He would normally have to pleasure himself before getting out of bed from seeing and feeling them on his toes.

Suddenly, Davey immediately went into a panic. He thrust his hands onto the top of his head. MY HAIR! He cried out in in jubilation as he turned to the mirror and saw his pretty boy hair, however somewhat disheveled from whatever happened the night before. He was ecstatic. 'Oh my God, it was all a dream' he exclaimed out loud. He immediately went to his bedroom, he didn't even notice that he was violently ill from being hung over. He fell back on his bed and just grinned. He was elated. He gazed into the full length mirror he had placed at the foot of his bed so he could look at the soles of his white socked feet. They were perfect. They were so thick and smooth, they weren't common at all. Maybe No one in this part of the country had them. They were too expensive. Who would pay over ten dollars for a pair of white cotton crew socks? Davey did often. He finally found a white sock that would replace his two pair of white Nike socks at once he wore for years before finding these bad boys. He flexed his toes and felt the cotton tickling his toes as he admired how the pure white soles are and how thick they looked. He instantly got rock hard and was stroking himself.

"Man, what was that dream I had he thought" I just woke up on the bathroom floor and thought I was bald for some reason what the hell" All Davey could really remember was the words 'permanently bald' he shivered at the words, as it was his biggest fear however irrational. He was also terrified of male pattern baldness. He had already started saving for hair transplant surgery even though he had not even started to slightly receed. He noticed that a lot of guys his age and younger started to develop mature hairline, not balding, but Davey was terrified of it happening to him. He obsessively checked his hairline several times a day. He felt so lucky when his mirror reassured him that he still had a juvenile hairline. He knew he couldn't pull off his pretty boy short permed top and close buzzed sides even if his temples moved back a little like he noticed on so many young guys.

He was so obsessed with it. How many dudes Davey's age know what the Norwood scale is? Davey did. He had it memorized. Every guy that Davey saw, young or old, friend or foe, hot or not, family member or stranger on the sidewalk, Davey immediately classed them on the norwood scale. He had just started to ease up on his own fear of MPB, because he was overjoyed when he discovered that if you still had a juvenile hairline or a norwood zero in your late twenties which doesn't even show on the norwood chart, you would forever be blessed as one of the VERY few men never experience any mpb at all. He was so excited and relieved when he recently discovered that several of his uncles that he always thought had hair transplants, always kept their juvenile hairlines. Their hairline even seemed to be slightly lower than almost anyone else, and just like Davey's. Even most teenagers are Norwood 1, which is not at all considered balding, but Davey noticed and was terrified of even that. Well, until he realized he probaby won what he considered the hair lottery from what he called his 'fuzzy uncles.

He was so relieved his panic was over a silly nightmare. 'Man I got it all' as he tousled his own hair and checked out how awesome his white socked soles looked in the mirror. Davey loved edging so much, that he would almost satisfy himself many times, sometimes over days or even weeks before finally letting himself blow. He loved the feeling of being constantly aroused in his white socks more than actually cumming, so he stopped short of blowing and making a mess over his bed. He had what he called a mini, it feels just as good but just a couple strokes short of fully releasing, and you keep your bone and can keep at it if you want. 'That was close' he said aloud while half laughing 'I almost blew', he thought as he oozed some of what he fought so hard to hold in. He thought maybe he did finish cause he leaked so much and felt the half-gasm he gets from edging, but he stopped just in time, cause he stayed rock solid as he stretched out his arms and just laid there to relax a while. His hand came to rest on a stack of papers on his nightstand that he didn't recognize, so he picked it up and started to read it. Curiosity turned to sheer terror and panic as he frantically thumb through the pages, his eyes widening as though he saw the devil himself.

The nightmare he had the night before all came flooding back, as he was reading its transcript in black and white. He remembered everything that happened as he read through the sentencing report. He remebered now sobbing as he sat outside a liquor store chugging straight liquor while balwling his eyes out. He froze into a catatonic state, with a petrified blank stare fixed on the documents that sealed his fate while the poor guys mind tried to process that his worst fear, which was statically next to impossible, was indeed his new reality.

Davey laid there motionless for about a minute, the only movement was his chest expanding as he slowly inhaled until his lungs filled more than they were intended for, and and then released in an horrid unearthy, scream, so intense that physical torture wouldn't produce a sound more terrifying. Gasping for air as his lungs emptied, he inhaled deeply again, repeating the same unnerving sound again and again stopping only to breath enough to continue his anguished cries.

PART 3 COMING LATER

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