A man with short hair by Snagg

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It was a rainy Monday morning. I would be working from home today. While brushing my teeth, I studied my appearance in the bathroom mirror. I had a few days' worth of stubble and my brown shoulder-length curls hung messily from my head. My appearance might have been acceptable for working from home, but overall I came to the conclusion that I didn't like what I saw.

Throughout most of my twenties, I had looked pretty much the same as I still did now. I was now 30. And I still looked like a student. Like someone who didn't want to grow up.
"Dude," I said to my reflection, "you have a good job, you're financially independent, but you look like your parents are still paying your rent."

I ran my hand through my long hair. The long hair was no longer me. The long hair had served its purpose. I wanted a change. I wanted to be a man with short hair.

I glanced at the clock. It was just after 8. My online meeting wasn't until 9:30. Enough time to visit the barber shop next door. The barber shop I only knew from passing by.

I took a quick shower, put on a T-shirt and sweatpants. Then I rushed downstairs, jogged a few meters through the rain, and entered the barber shop.

The interior looked as if it had once been a butcher's shop. White tiles on the walls, no decoration, no pictures of hairstyles.
Behind the counter stood a man about my age. He looked up. He had a hard part crew cut, defined by a clean, shaved line that created a clear separation between the short hair on top and the skin-faded sides.
"I thought no one would come in this rain," he said with a grin.
"I live next door," I replied.
"And you want a haircut, I assume," he said, stepping out from behind the counter.
He wore tight black pants and a tight white T-shirt that emphasized his muscles.
He asked me to take a seat in one of the two black barber chairs. There was a large mirror in front of me, and I watched as he put a cape around me.
"By the way, my name is Luke," he said.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Ben."

Luke combed through my hair.
"Okay, Ben, what do you want me to do with your hair?"
I cleared my throat. "I want it short."
"So you want a bigger change?"
I nodded. "I want to get rid of this long hair! I want to be a guy with short hair. I have my life under control and I want to look that way too."
"How short do you want your short hair?"
"I only realized 15 minutes ago that I want short hair..."
Luke laughed. "Would you like me to make a suggestion?"
"Yes, please. I'm a newcomer when it comes to short hair."

Luke placed his hands on my shoulders. "So you want to radiate control?"
"Yes."
"You want to make a clear statement?"
"Yes."
"You don't want to hide behind a look?"
"Not anymore."
"Then you should opt for a sharp, uncompromising cut."
"Sounds good."
"In practical terms, this means that you should have your hair cut not just short, but very short."
A rush of adrenaline shot through my body.
"Are you ready to have your hair cut extremely short, military style?" I heard Luke ask. "There are other, less radical short hairstyles, but they don't necessarily convey that you have your life under control."
I took a deep breath. "I think you're right. To project what I want to project, it's best to have a military cut."
Did I really just say that? Was that my new self speaking? I was impressed. And a little dizzy. And I felt an erection between my legs.

Luke took his hands off my shoulders.
"All right, recruit, how about a short high fade crew cut? A sharp, fast transition on the sides that creates strong contrast against the slightly longer top."
"Yes, let's do that! Give me that haircut!"
The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of looking like a badass soldier.

Luke picked up one of the clippers lying in front of the mirror. "I like guys who get their mop cut without thinking too much about it."
He put a long guard on the clippers. "First, I shave everything down to 2 cm. A kind of rough cleaning. Then come the details."
He brought the machine to life and placed it on my forehead. Within milliseconds, a movie played out in my head: What would my friends, family, and colleagues say? What if I didn't like myself with extremely short hair?

Then it was too late for doubts. Luke had started pushing the clippers over my head, and my long hair fell lifelessly to the floor.
I relaxed. I felt a sense of relief that the bold change was about to happen and there was no turning back. Soon I would be back upstairs in my apartment, participating in an online meeting as a man with very short hair.
In the future, my colleagues would say things like, "You'd better ask Ben, the guy with the military short hair."

More and more long brown curls landed on the floor.
"It already feels much lighter on my head."
"Ultimately, you'll feel lighter mentally too."
"Have you always had short hair, Luke?"
"Short, yes, but not as short as it is now. I didn't dare to do it before. Until a colleague said: Luke, I know you want much shorter hair. He pushed me into the barber's chair and gave me a very short flat top. Since then, I've been switching between different ultra-short haircuts."

Then Luke turned off the clippers. I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair had been buzzed down to one length. I looked so different! My face looked more striking. My gaze seemed clearer.
"Now you're experiencing how masculine your face can look, right?"
"Damn right!" I replied, running my hand over my skull. "I've never looked so butch before!"
"And it's going to get even better, I can promise you that."

Luke explained to me what would happen next. "The hair on top will only be cut a little shorter. At the back and sides, however, most of it will be removed."
The description made my cock even harder than it already was, and I hoped I would have a little time before the meeting to relieve myself.

Luke took another pair of clippers, this time without putting a guard on them. He placed the clippers well above my ear and shaved a line around my head. He then shaved off all the hair below the line.
After that, he worked with various guards above the line to create the fade.

"Now you can get a pretty good idea of what the end result will look like," said Luke, putting a slightly longer guard back on the clippers he had used first. It was time to further reduce the length of the hair on top.
"I want your hair to be so short that you can't style it anymore. A man who wants to express that he has his life under control shouldn't waste time styling his hair and shouldn't make his look dependent on styling products."

Finally, he intended to shave me smooth at the back and sides with the razor. "Which leads me to ask, should I shave your face as well? Either you grow a beard that matches your new hairstyle, or we shave off the stubble right away."
"You think I should be clean-shaven, don't you?"
"Honestly, yes. If you grow a beard, it would just be another way of hiding yourself."
"Then shave me smooth and soft!"
"Good choice, buddy!" said Luke, lathering the lower part of my head with foam. "I'll shave you twice. Just to make sure your skin is really smooth."

"How often do you think I should refresh my look?" I asked as Luke scraped away the foam bit by bit.
"A guy who has his life under control should also have his appearance under control. So feel free to come by once a week."

The clock above the counter showed 9:08 when Luke pulled off the cape. "Voilà! A new man is born!"
I looked at myself in the mirror. The brutal look was still unfamiliar. But I liked it. A lot. I looked hot.
"You don't look like you regret taking the step."
"No regrets whatsoever!" I said and stood up.
"Then I hope to see you again next week."
"From now on, you'll see me every week!"

I paid and hurried back to my apartment. 9:13. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, took out my cock, and started jerking off. I was so horny that it didn't take me long to cum into the sink. Then I took a piss and sat down in front of the laptop.
My colleagues only commented briefly on my new look. "I almost didn't recognize you."
"Didn't you have long hair last week?"
"My brother also had his long hair cut."

After the meeting, I sorted through my wardrobe. I only kept plain-colored clothes. I stuffed colorful items and items with prints into plastic bags. I also got rid of items that were too loose. I kept tight-fitting clothes, mainly in black, navy, gray, white, and olive.

After lunch, I worked for about two hours. Then I took new photos for my dating and social media profiles. I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning out my apartment. I threw away everything I hadn't used in a long time or had never used. Anything that was broken or that I thought was ugly also disappeared.

The fact that I had gotten a clean, radical haircut led me to radically clean up other areas of my life as well. First, the clothes and the apartment. Then I deleted a bunch of "friends" from my social media profiles, people I didn't really know who they are, or people I didn't like. I also deleted a lot of phone numbers. And I decided to only date men who know what they want and who have short hair, really short hair.

Later at the gym, a well-trained guy with a close-cropped buzz cut who had never paid any attention to me before approached me. "Weren't you that guy with the messy long hair?"
"I was that guy until this morning."
"You look much better now. I always thought: great body, but terrible hair. What made you decide to drastically change your appearance?"
"Well, it was a rainy day. A good day to tidy up."
"I hope you keep this look?"
"I will definitely do that."
"If that's the case, I'd like to ask you if you'd like to have a drink with me after training?"
"But you wouldn't like to have a drink with me if I wanted to grow my hair long again?"
"Probably not. I prefer men who have the balls to wear their hair mercilessly short. In other words: men who give me the impression that they hold their lives in check."

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