15 again by Germon

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I worked at Baywatch and my blonde hair was quite long. From behind, I had a decent mat which hung over my shirt. The sides hanging over my ears and the top was too wild and long. I found it very nice as it was, so it was not all been a while a hairdresser. On a summer Saturday afternoon I called my parents if I could come along too and that was obviously good. When I walked into my parents' house my mother greeted me very kindly with a hug. My father did as aloof and gave me only one hand. In addition, his gaze a little too long on my established her I thought. We drank in the living room with the three of us a cup of tea. Then my father said to me, "Shall we go upstairs Cort, because I'd like to show you some." I said, 'That's good pa' and I followed him to the hall and then up the stairs. Then we walked to my old bedroom. When we arrived there my father said quite compelling to me, "Sit down Cort. I used to be afraid of my father and the uncertainty and fear came back bubbling up in full force. I sat in the wooden chair that stood by my former office. My dad picked out one of the drawers of the desk and gave me a picture in hand and then said, "You look like Cort? 'I saw my father and insist on me when I was about 15 and said that I against my father. Then he answered: "What did you do then, boy? 'I said,' My hair was very short." He replied in the affirmative and added, "That was so beautiful when your boy and now you have it for so long. In addition, he took a moment with his bony hands a strand of my thick hair back. I swallowed and said, "Yes, Dad, you cut my hair to my earlier teens always so short." When Dad said: "It is now so wild, I'll just comb. I trembled and said, "Yes Dad, you do that." He picked up the familiar green comb and began to comb. My thick blonde Haarbos I felt the small pins glide through my hair. The hair is easy to comb and had offered no resistance. It was pretty weird but that combing what dad did also felt pretty good. The hair knew what was going to happen in silence Cort already felt something come thought. pa combed it over her back. The hair aside he combed down over the ears. Both ears were covered by it. The back hair he combed straight down and something she stiffened as I sat on the chair and could not do anything. When Dad said, "I grab a mirror, or sit Cort. It was as if my legs were glued to the ground. My father put the mirror in front of me and I saw myself in the big mirror. With my hands I just went through my thick Haarbos. It again rippled all over and had free reign It felt so soft and was so beautiful. When father picked up the black spray bottle I'm going to just make my wet. "Then it looks even better, he said. I consented and he began to make my hair wet and then he combed it the same way. Then my father said to me: "Shall I once again a smooth model of it? Can I cut it 'but I will cut it again. I swallowed again and started to shake. My heart pounded and a voice in my head said, "Do not do it!" Do not do it, no, no, no But I looked at my father and said, "Go ahead." Although I said it very softly, he heard it and he picked up a purple with black blocks sheet of the bed and waved to me and buttoned it back tightly. I felt completely trapped now I could not go back. He now combing with a finer comb my hair again. This time did it which is very likely because I had thick hair comb for this. But I did not budge. When he had finished he stood next to me. He combed the hair that hung down over my ears on the ear and took the pointy scissors and put it just above the ears in the hair and I heard the familiar snip, snip sound the scissors opened and closed again while fluttered a pluck thick wavy blond hair down and I saw my ear again, that awful ears where I used to be teased also cut the ear quite as it was called, and there was even nice behind her on my lap on my shoulders. When I saw that I really had to swallow. When he was finished he was on the other side exactly the same then walked pa to the bottom drawer of the desk and grabbed the resulting black clipper device and put a comb up, put the plug in the socket. My father stood behind me, pressed my head slightly down and went very slowly with the clippers to my neck. He put the clippers at the bottom of the hair. I still felt the cold metal in my neck and noticed that I got goosebumps. He pressed the device up to almost the top of the head. When he released to start the second job the first pick thick soft wavy blond hair fell over my shoulders on the apron and I had to swallow anything. He worked on me from behind, and there was more and more hair for me on the apron and ground. It was getting cooler in my neck and back. When he was finished with my mind. he combed the hair on top of my head ever pick for picking up and what came over his fingers, he still cut off. Which was also quite short. It was cut and short spines. Then he combed the bangs down and cut that short and blunt off. He cut so short that I could comb my hair. Not back Then he shaved the hair above the ears again after and cut with scissors a uniform edge in the hair. When he was ready and he laughed at me. I saw the result in the mirror: a high shaved flowerpot model. The beautiful blonde soft wavy long hair lying on the sheet and on the ground. I was able to cry, because it really did not look. Long time I have not looked up my parents. What he did to me now, would not ever happen to me again.

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