I was on my way to The Eagle for a drink. My new favorite place, I had been a regular customer for just a short time. It was a nice change of pace from the pretty boy clientele of the other bars. Parking was always a problem in this section of town so I usually found myself leaving the car a few blocks away and walking. I usually passed Rick’s Barbershop on the way, peeking in to see if any hot guys were getting crewcuts. I’ve always found short haircuts a turn-on, and complete head shaves just blew me away. The same barber was always cutting hair in the window when I walked past, I figured that he must be Rick. I would check to see if someone was in the chair, what they were getting done, and then my eyes would work their way up to Rick and linger on this hunk of a man. Six and a half feet tall with a shaved head and goatee, always wearing tight Levi’s, a black tank top and Doc Marten boots. The last few times he caught me looking. At first I would just look away and keep walking, but after awhile I started smiling politely. I figured that being so close to The Eagle a lot of guys probably cruised the barbershop. Why should I be any different?

I parked my car and realized that I was directly in front of Rick’s. After locking my door I took my customary look to see if he had any hot customers and was surprised to find that the chair was empty and he was standing in the doorway smiling at me. “Hi,” I said nervously. He just looked at me. “Nice night,” I tried again. Nothing. I was just about to go on my way when he finally spoke. “So when are you gonna finally come in?” he said. As many times as I had looked inside, I never really thought about going in myself. My hair was a medium length that I kept slicked back with a little pomade. Nothing too exciting, but I figured that a crew cut would be a little too daring for me.

My throat suddenly became dry. This hot stud was asking me about letting him cut my hair. My voice cracked as I answered him nervously, “I don’t know. I kind of like it the way it is.” I couldn’t believe I had said that. I would have given anything to sit and have a conversation with this man, and here I as passing it by. Would a crew cut look that bad on me? I didn’t know if I could go through with it.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that,” he said in a forceful yet soothing tone. So I walked up to him, glad to actually get a closer look. He was even more handsome up close than he was from the street. I still wasn’t ready to cut my hair, though, and I was just about to tell him that when something strange happened. I looked him right in the eyes and I couldn’t get the words out. I don’t know what came over me. All I could do was stand there staring into his deep brown eyes.

After what seemed like several minutes, he finally spoke, “Come on boy, follow me.” His words echoed through my head, as if he had spoken them directly into my mind. I was no longer nervous as I followed him into the shop. Once inside he turned to me and said in a soft melodic voice, “I’m Rick. I’ve noticed you checking out my work and have decided that it’s your time.”

“Time? Time for what?” I replied. It was difficult to speak, I was so relaxed and comfortable I felt like I could slip into the barber chair and sleep for hours.

“You’ll see,” he said in the same rhythmic tones.

Trying to keep up my part of the conversation, I started to introduce myself. “I’m…”

“That’s no longer important, boy. Get into the chair.”

His voice had gotten more forceful but I still felt relaxed. Then I realized he had called me boy. Not once, but twice. He didn’t know my name at all, but even that seemed unimportant. He was calling me boy and that was fine with me. It was even a little exciting. This whole scene was exciting, which was strange to me because I had never done anything like this. I was so caught up in what was going on that I didn’t notice that he had turned his “Open” sign around and locked up the shop. I sat in his chair and looked up at his big strong figure in the mirror. His eyes staring deep into mine he spoke in that sexy, deep rhythmic voice that drew me in from outside.

“Listen to me, boy, “ he said. “Listen carefully. It’s time that we took care of that mess of hair you have there. Don’t you think it’s about time, boy?”

“Well, I…”

“Shhhh, boy. Just listen. You do think it’s time. It is time. That mess has gone on long enough. Hasn’t it boy? Okay now, boy. Answer me. It’s time now, boy. Isn’t it? Isn’t it, BOY?”

“Yes… It’s time…”

“It’s time, WHAT?”

“It’s time… Sir…”

I could hardly form words I was so enraptured in his voice, his presence. I really didn’t think I would like getting a crewcut myself but after listening to him speak to me in this way I was starting to like the idea.

“Now boy, “ he said, “What do you think we should do with this mess?”

“Crewcut, Sir?”

“Crewcut? Hmmm. Touch my head, boy”

With this, he bent his head down for me to feel. I placed my heavy hand upon his scalp.

“How does it feel boy?” he demanded.

“Smooth”, I replied dreamily.

“Nice and smooth, boy?”

“Yes Sir, nice and smooth”

“It feels good, boy. Doesn’t it? Nice and smooth. Don’t you think it feels nice and smooth, boy?”

“Yes, Sir”

“Good boy. Now run your fingers through that mess of yours.”

I put my fingers into my own head of hair and ran them back and fourth through the thick, wavy locks.

“What do you feel, boy?” he asked.

“Soft, Sir.”

“No boy, not soft. It’s a tangled mess. It’s a rough, hairy, tangled mess.”

As he spoke, my once soft full hair started to feel coarse, as if it were made of straw. The mild curls now wrapped around my fingers making it difficult for my hands to pull through it.

“Do you feel it, boy? It is a very unpleasant sensation, isn’t it? Isn’t it, BOY?”

“Yes, Sir.”

As I continued to pull my fingers through this tangled mess I started to realize that what Rick was saying was true. The mess on my head was very uncomfortable. Rough to the touch and unpleasant just being on my head.

“Now Boy,” he said in a reassuring tone, “Remember how nice and smooth my head felt?”

I remembered, nice and smooth. “Yes, Sir”, I replied.

“Remember it, Boy. Remember how nice and smooth it was compared to the nasty mess you have in your hands right now. Think about how nice and smooth it was. How nice and smooth yours could be.”

I thought about it and realized that he was right.

“You know what needs to be done, boy. Tell me.”

From deep inside I heard myself say, “Shave it, Sir. Shave it all off. Please, Sir, I can’t stand it anymore.”

No sooner had I said the words then I heard the buzzing of the clippers. I felt the vibrating steel as it ran over my skull, removing everything in its path. Seconds later I could feel the cool air against the skin on my head and it felt good. I closed my eyes and took in every sensation, enjoying every minute of it. Then the clippers stopped.

“Sit still, boy,” he said. “Your transformation is almost complete.”

I sat blissfully still while he applied the lather to my shorn skull. Then he pulled the blade against the grains of my stubble leaving a smooth, glistening path in its wake. I watched as he took the final swipes. Then he splashed on an icy, refreshing liquid to finish the job.

“Well, boy? What do you think? Touch it? Look at yourself,” he asked, delighted at his handywork.

“Nice and smooth, Sir. I love it.” I replied.

“Good Boy. Now remember, you must remain nice and smooth, so you will have to return here every week so I can take care of it. Is that understood, boy?” he demanded.

“Yes, Sir.” I said.

“Good. Now, I’ll see you next week, boy.”

I got up and left the shop. The brisk night air brought me out of my relaxed state but I felt refreshed and ready for a night out on the town. Now when I park my car on the way to The Eagle, I don’t just look in the window at Rick’s, I’m the one in the window.

This page has been visited times.