Male Haircut Stories

It was inevitable that Joe ask to cut my hair.

I mean, after all I had done to him, I guess I was waiting for his revenge. At first, I put him off by telling him I’d just got it cut, or I had a lecture to go to, but he kept insisting.

So what could I do? Tell him I didn’t trust him? Tell him that I enjoyed having sex with him and letting him do things to my body that I refuse to tell you about because they might get me into trouble under state law, but I wouldn’t let him cut my hair? I thought about it, but one night, we were at his place, and he asked me, and okay, I said yes. What could happen?

I guess he thought I didn’t trust him, because as I sat down on his kitchen chair, he produced a length of rope. Okay, in for a penny, in for a pound.

He used the rope at first to tie me to the chair, with my legs spread apart and fastened to the sides. Then he tied my hands behind my back, making me feel very vulnerable. (Do I have to mention that I was naked, and he was doing terrible things to my exposed genitalia, or can I leave that bit up to your imagination?)

When he had my attention, and my rod was at full mast, he then fastened it off with a leather cord so it would stay erect for as long as possible. He then added a fiendish little gadget that consisted of a choker chain and a couple of clips tied to the ends, which, when installed, meant that if my cock did move in any way, it pulled upon my now fastened nipples, bringing instant pain.

All this was covered with a nylon cape we had brought home from the shop in order for me to trim him. If anyone had walked in the door, they would not have noticed anything unusual. It was only the lack of shoes and trouser legs below the cape that would be the dead giveaway.

Joe then tilted the chair back so my neck rested against the sink. The jerking of the chair caused the chain to move as my cock wavered, sending waves of pain across my chest. He just grinned.

Then he turned on the cold water, and using the shower head he started to wet down my hair. Of course, I started calling him some appropriate names, but he just reached over and grabbed a tea towel, which he then proceeded to stuff into my mouth.

After the cold shampoo, my scalp felt on fire, and my fringe hung in wet strands across my face. (As you may know, I wear my hair with a long fringe and tapered at the back and sides - thick but shaped).

Joe picked up a comb and started playing with my hair, combing it forward, pushing it back, parting it on one side and then another, enjoying my attempts to move a leg so I could kick him where it would do the most damage.

Then he picked up the scissors and it hit me that he really was going to cut my hair, and there was no way I could stop him. He could even shave my head as I did his, and all I could do was sit back and let it happen. I felt incredibly defenceless, and my cock throbbed, pulling my already stressed nipples.

He stood in front of me, and using his knee, he pushed it forward so that it pressed against my balls and made the leather thong pull down on my cock. He then combed up my fringe and held it between his fingers, and I closed my eyes, prepared for the worst.

However, the sound of my hair being cut and the bits falling on the cape wasn’t as bad as I feared. Joe set to work in earnest, and even though he could have left me without a hair on my body, he settled for taking about a quarter inch off all over. It took him a while because it was his first cut, and it drove me mad that there wasn’t a mirror for me to see what he was doing, but I tried to keep my head as still as possible so it wouldn’t be any worse.

The rest of the cut went smoothly, with him occasionally whispering threats into my ear, and rubbing a few of the cut locks into my face.

At one stage, he got down on his knees and lifted the cape up to expose my almost purple cock. He undid the leather band, and the pain as the blood rushed back into my cock was agony. But then he applied his tongue to the underside of the shaft, and the pain was soon forgotten.

I won’t go into all the gory details, but the cut he gave me wasn’t too atrocious (considering what it could have been like). And even though I made him pay for all the little S&M extras, I guess I really liked the feeling of surrendering totally to another guy.

I feel sorry for those people out there who don’t share some sort of fetish with their loved ones. It’s bad enough to be in the closet, but denying your fetish is like putting a bag over your head as well. I am glad that I found Joe, and even if it’s not forever, at least it will last long enough for us to find out some more about who we are.

And who we want to be.

Labels: LNHB