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I have three particular desires when my haircut fetish rears its clippered head.

First, the barber must be a woman. It really doesn?t matter what appearance or age although I don?t typically like getting a cut from Asian women with thick accents. (A communication issue, you know.) I have had clipperings from young cute women who hit on me shamelessly while doing their job. I?ve been buzzed by ?trucker women? with cotton candy rodeo hair and a two pack a day camel habit. Sometimes I prefer the truckers and sometimes I prefer the cuties? depends on my mood.

Second, the shop needs to be a real barbershop with real barber chairs not those wimpy stylist chairs. Some places call themselves barbershops but they really don?t look like barbershops. I?m talking the smell of talc, yesterday?s cigarettes, some Clubman Tonic hanging in the air… And like I said, I want those big, comfortable barber chairs with lots of chrome or enameled parts, red or turquoise upholstery and flip up ashtrays in the arms (even though smoking in such a place is now illegal most everywhere in the US). Its also nice if there are mirrors front and back so you can really watch what?s happening from all angles as the hair drops from head to cutting cape.

Third, the haircut has to be a full-on military-style flattop tapered close on the sides and with a nice hint of landing strip on the top. This was the haircut I was forced to get from the time I was about 3 until I finally rebelled at the age of 12. I remember when I was about 5 going to the barbershop every other week to climb into that big chair and get clippered down to nothing by Mike the barber. Mike used to delight in taking me so close to the skin on top that the object of my first boyhood crush, Linda, would try to pinch the top with her finger nails. If she couldn?t get ahold of any hair that way, she would rub her hand over the top of my head, tell me how cute I was and give me a little kiss right on the forehead. Linda was probably 14 and was the daughter of a woman cared for by my Grandmother; an LVN/Caregiver. I think that might have been when I started down the path to tying my sexuality up tightly with haircutting.

Anyway? In the months preceding a flattop attack I wear my dark brown hair long on the top with just enough length at the sides and back to brush back over my ears and end at collar length in the back. The overall effect is kind of a V taper angle closer at the bottom and fuller on top. I also usually wear a full beard and mustache. By the way, the beard and mustache are also subject to the haircut fetish.

About 3 weeks before the cut I started down the fantasy trail; collecting pictures on the internet of flattops and buzzing, visualizing my hair being shorn while making love with my girlfriend (wishing she would tie me with our little bondage kit and clipper me with the Osters and flattopper comb) and scouting barbershops within 50-100 miles for all the features I like.

I found one I?d never been to before in a little mountain town about 35 miles from my home. The shop was called ?Gentlemen?s Den? and the barber/owner was a woman named Leah. I always went to scope out the shop ahead of trying it out. I drove out on Wednesday before the weekend I had picked for my flattop clippering. I had already called the shop to find out the hours; ?10-6 Tuesday through Saturday? and if appointments were necessary; ?Come on in and wait your turn?. Her voice had a strangely melodious gravel to it and its sound intrigued me even more.

Upon arriving in town, I first drove past the shop. It looked good. An old shop in an old downtown ?Main Street? setting, big glass panes in the front window and a quick glance at the woman sitting in a big barber chair, reading the newspaper. Slow day, I guess. I parked the car about a block away and walked down the main street toward the shop. Being as stealthy as possible, I walked past the shop like I was on the way to somewhere else. I took in as much detail as possible during that first pass. Black and white checkerboard floor; good, old fashioned barber chair upholstered in red leather with a chrome kick plate and chrome arms also upholstered in red leather; good. And Leah the Barber; she was about 50, smallish with a demeanor that seemed to say; ?Don?t screw with me!? She wasn?t particularly attractive, but like I said before that wasn?t a requirement. She had a stringy bob just below the chin and was working on a customer?s Businessman cut. He was yacking away under a striped nylon drape and Leah was clipping away at his nape. Mirrors were behind the barber chairs but I?d have to wait for the second pass to see if there were others.

I walked two shops down the block and wandered into an old style pharmacy. I looked at the magazines for a bit and then bought a pack of gum. I stepped out of the store and began the trip back by the ?Gentlemens?s Den?. Leah must?ve finished the business man by the time I walked back by because she was standing on the sidewalk taking a cigarette break. Being out of business mode and in relax mode softened her features and made her almost pretty. She was shorter than me by a few inches and with me at 5?7? that made her about 5?2?. Strangely I got a little sexual twinge and wondered if it was because of her or the haircut frenzy racing around in me. Mirrors were hung on the opposite wall; good.

Saturday would be the day. I stayed overnight at my girlfriend?s house on Friday and we had some pretty wild ?anticipation of haircut? sex. I was getting all the usual feelings of anxiety, horniness, wishy washyness, etc. I barely slept that night and by the next day I was ready to back out completely until my girlfriend said; ?After all this preparation, you?re backing out? No fucking way! You want a flattop and we?re going to the Barbershop to get you one!? Ooooohhh I love it when she gets determined.

By 9:00 AM I was so nervous I couldn?t control the little tremor in my hands and voice. I asked my girlfriend if I could make myself a little vodka martini to take the edge off a bit. She took the Carl?s Jr. cup we had with dinner the night before, filled it ? with ice and ? with chilled vodka, snapped on the lid with straw, handed it to me and said; ?Let?s go. I?m driving. You sip on this while we?re on our way.?

I dutifully got in the car and began to sip my little vodka cooler. 35 miles is quite a distance and by the time we pulled up in front of the shop I was feeling very relaxed; no shaking, no voice tremor (maybe a tad slurred). It was about 11:00 AM. We got out of the car and walked into the shop. No one was around, so we made ourselves comfortable in the waiting chairs. I was able to take a look around and was pleased to see the evidence of this being a ?real? barbershop. Field and Stream magazine, Popular Mechanics magazine, a 9 point buck?s head on one wall. I really didn?t feel like talking much so my girlfriend had taken her paperback out of purse and began to read. I was still looking around and just as I picked up a copy of Popular Mechanics, Leah walked in. She seemed just a little unsteady on her feet and asked how long we had been waiting. ?Not long? my girlfriend said. Leah walked to her chair, picked of the cutting drape, dusted the chair and said; ?Next!?

I wobbled to my feet and walked the 3 paces to the chair where I sat down as lightly as possible to not give away how blitzed I was from my vodka. I had popped a couple of Chlorets to hide any residual alcohol scent. I was soon to find out that wasn?t necessary. As Leah floated the nylon cape onto my body and leaned in to put the tissue around my neck I caught the strong scent of alcohol on her breath. Oh my God! Two drunks on either side of the haircut equation. How would this turn out?

I started to explain that I wanted a flattop, but not too short, as a matter of fact ?a quite long flattop? when the clippers fired up and went to an area in front of my right ear. The clippers touched down about mid ear and swept up to my temple and then back just a little bit. A huge clump of hair grazed my chin and landed on the cape rolling off onto the floor like a dark brown snowball. Completely taken by surprise, my eyes glanced up to see pale white skin peeking through not much stubble. My beard literally ended at about mid ear and contrasted decidedly with the shorn area above. ?These are the longest set of tapering blades I have. I hope the length is OK with you? said Leah. Guess what? Its not like you can put it back. So I nodded meekly and got ready to go on an amazing clipper ride. I settled into the chair and relaxed in the knowledge that there was nothing I could do now.

I watched the clippers move back over my right ear and then be used in a tapering stroke from the hairline up to just where my skull rounded the corner to the top of my head. The whirring sound of the Oster 76?s was intoxicating as they peeled away months of hair growth in seconds. My girlfriend sat in the waiting chair with the goofiest grin I?ve ever seen on her. I was watching the hair falling on the cape, flipping off the clippers on the upstroke and building up on my shoulder like fuzzy brown snow. The right side of my head was now totally bare, tapering slightly longer as it reached the top. It was a stark contrast to the longer hair still left on other parts of my head. It made me grin. Leah moved around to the back, placed her palm and extended fingers on the top of my head and gently guided my chin down to my chest. She started using the same upward tapering strokes on the back of my head. They clippers came way up the back above my occipital bone before they released flipping their burden of hair to the shop floor. I became aware of the heightened sensitivity of my scalp when I felt the breath of the Osters cooling motor on my skin. After one pass all over the back side of my head, Leah pressed the clippers hard to my nape and moved them up and down right at the hairline to assure even cutting and a smooth natural taper finish. I wanted to reach up and feel the hair but I seemed to be paralyzed in body and fixated in focus.

Leah began shearing off the hair on the left side of my head and finished by removing any vestiges of sideburn above my beard. ?Looks a little funny ending at your beard that way, I guess we?ll need to talk about a shave too. I bet your girl there would like that!? She changed clipper blades and proceeded to take the bottom around my hairline even closer. My girlfriend would not be able to pinch the stubble on the sides and back this time. Leah dusted me off and checked for missed hairs. There weren?t any but the talc in the brush sure smelled good.

Leah lifted my bangs and deftly sliced them off with her scissors about an inch from my scalp. Working from front to back she continued reducing the 5 inches of hair on top of my head to 1 inch or less as she worked toward the back. Now hair was getting in my eyes and sticking to my lips. It was landing on the cape with a definite sound sort of like one piece of paper landing on another. As I was able to glance up, I could hardly recognize the man in the mirror. I had a rough cut white walled flattop. Guess what? I was really liking it and I could tell by the expression on her face that my girlfriend was liking it too. She had crossed her legs and put her paperback down long ago.

The top of my hair would not be raggedy for long as Leah reached for the KrewKomb wax and worked a generous amount into the ring of ?long? hair remaining on top of my head. She combed all the hair straight up from my scalp. She picked up a black flattop comb with a long handle and worked it into my bangs from the front. Another ? inch of waxed hair fell into my lap with the little tapping noise waxed hair makes when it hits nylon. The rest would need to be very short to let the front be the highest place on the top of my head. And it soon would be VERY short.

Leah continued to work from front to back with clippers over flattop comb. Right behind the bang hair she angled the flattopper down in the back until its teeth were resting right on my scalp. As she worked back the comb got firmer and flatter to my scalp and an almost rhythmic dropping of hair started to occur. I couldn?t see anything because Leah was working right in front of me. I could only see the hair falling and hear the sound it made on the cape. What an amazing experience!

She finally moved away from the front of me and revealed a new man in the mirror. What a great haircut! What a lame beard! ?Do you do shaves?? I asked. ?Yup. Do you want me to do one for you?? I nodded.

She had a vacuum which she used to get as much of the loose hair off my head as possible. That felt fantastic! The were actually places on my head that were bare enough to create suction with the vacuum?s head. She used a boar?s hair brush and brushed through what was left of my hair. It stood at wonderful attention and felt so good to be brushed.

Leah had me lean forward so she could release the back of the chair and adjust the headrest. All of sudden I was reclined with my shorn head brushing the headrest. That always feels weird when its first buzzed and is touched by anything.

Leah made quick work of my beard and mustache with the Osters fitted with the 00000 head. It was a clipper shave. After dusting the stray beard hairs away she ran water in the sink behind me and began to heat up the towels she would use to soften my beard hairs. Once she had wrung the extra water from the towels she placed them gently on my face and began to chat with my girlfriend. She said they were going outside for a minute and to just relax.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I remember was warm shave cream being spread over my face. After stropping the razor she began to shave away the cream and my stubble with it. She started at my mustache and worked completely around my face. She used a warm towel to clean up the rest of the cream and then proceeded to rub in some Clubman Bay Rum. It smelled great and it felt great on my face.

Leah brought the chair back to its upright position and spread shave cream around my ears and nape. She used the razor to clean up the edges, wiped off the excess cream and dusted me all around with talc.

She whipped off the cape and pulled the tissue with a Voila! ?You look wonderful!? she said. ?Too bad your girlfriend is here or I might make a move you? she said with a wink at my girlfriend. My girlfriend winked back. I swear Leah looked 10 years younger and twice as pretty as when the haircut started. She obviously enjoyed her work. I gave her a $50.00 bill for a $20.00 shave and haircut. She thanked me and said ?See you in 2 weeks!? She nodded toward my girlfriend and said, ?Don?t forget to call me! ?About what?? I said. ?You?ll see.? To be continued?

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