Tales From a Barbers Shop: A New Beginning
by Peircedskin
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Prologue
It’s not easy being a god. Once upon a time you received the adulation and worship of the masses, and life was good. Slowly however, the age of rationality came in and people stopped believing. Even the Christian God who usurped us began to have problems, and so we were diminished and made small.
I was originally the trickster god. Some called me Loki, and I had the most fun of all my brothers and sisters. Slowly however, we all started to fade, and eventually I was reduced to more of a sprite than a god. Then, the age of chaos arrived. People began to turn away from the organised religions and I spotted a gap in the market. All those lonely and unhappy people, just waiting for someone to help them change their pathetic little lives for better or worse. And if it cost them a small part of their souls, then hey, no one said I was a benevolent god. I’m just a jobbing guy trying to make my way in the world and have a little fun at the same time. Is that a crime? Ultimately there is an old Klingon saying. Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it…….
Chapter One
So here I am, in my latest little venture. I’ve tried a few things such as the old genie in a bottle and the whole three wishes bullshit. That was ok, but it didn’t really get the results I thought it might. After a couple of hundred years stuck in a bottle floating round the worlds oceans you kind of start to spot the flaws in the plan.
So I thought to myself, what kind of venture could I find that caters to the lost and lonely and unhappy. Then I had a rethink and thought “fuck it, who gives a shit. Let’s get em all”.
The results are right in front of you. Looks good, doesn’t it? My very own barber shop, with all the trimmings. I decided to go for the old fashioned style, with the old fashioned leather chairs and the pictures of well greased pomaded movie stars on the wall. Hell, I even use a foam machine and a straight razor. The striped pole above the door and the red and white awning are the honey to catch the fly. As I wait for my first customer to arrive, I admire my new look in the mirror. Stocky, with a well trimmed black goatee and a thick gold ring in each ear. My head is shaved smooth and I admire the way the lights shine off its highly polished surface. Just to add a bit of icing to the cake, I have a thick coating of hair on my body which pokes just above the collar of my barbers smock. This is going to be fun….
Chapter Two
The door jangled and I turned to look at my first victim….err customer. It was a business man from the look of it, mid forties, and not in a very happy mood. His expensive suit was exquisite, a Givenchy, and his burgundy silk tie was Chanel. He wore nice patent leather brogues and he had on a very expensive, yet tasteful Rolex watch.
“You”, he said scowling, “I need a trim and a tidy in a hurry. I have an important meeting which no one told me about and I don’t have time to get across town to my usual salon”.
“Why certainly sir, please take a seat. Is there anything in particular you fancy? I’m skilled in all the modern styles, as well as the more old fashioned cuts”.
“Cut the chatter, all I want is it trimmed and neatened, then styled. You can see how I like it, just make it look as good as you can”.
“Of course sir. I pride myself that the customer walks away from here 100% happy or I will refund twice the price of the haircut”.
“Ok,” he said as I steered him towards the waiting chair and tucked a cape round his neck “just be as quick as you can”.
“Would sir care for a coffee while I prepare you?” I asked, not really caring whether he did or not. His high handed attitude was beginning to get on my nerves. This is not a good idea.
“No” he grunted so I just smiled and began to run my fingers through his hair.
It was the standard expensive salon cut that men like him thought was so trendy but was in reality just another corporate uniform. Feathered and spiky, it took a handful of gel and your fingers running through it to make you look like you have just got out of bed. As I fondled his head, I also fondled his mind. It is actually quite relaxing and people don’t realise how suggestive this makes them. I read their hopes and dreams, their likes and dislikes, their little foibles and their deepest fears. This one was typical of most middle managers. Full of his own self importance, he bullied those he thought were below him and kissed the arses of those above. It was time for a change, and whether he wanted to or not, he was going to love the new him……
Chapter Three
I looked down at the man drowsing in the chair. Part of the charm was savouring the moment. I had decided what I was going to do but thought that he should be part of it.
“Well sir, it looks like you really could use a trim here. Your hair has really gone past the point of repair. What say we decide on a new look?”
“I don’t really have the time” he muttered uncertainly to me but didn’t move from the chair.
“Of course you do sir. Didn’t you tell me you were off today?”
“Nah, got a meeting……”
“No, you were off today”.
“I was off today.”
“That’s better” I said as his eyes lost their focus and he began to look lost. I stroked his hair more, loving the way it grew out until it hung down to just below his shoulders. I took a pair of scissors and cut round the sides and top, leaving the back untouched. Switching on the foam machine I lit a large Cuban cigar, feeling the tingling in my groin I always got when I was doing a gods work. It was my work and I’m the god.
You want a cigar too mate?” I asked as he looked at the glowing tip.
“Nah mate, I don’t smoke”.
“Yes you do, I remember you telling me how much you liked smoking cigars when you walked in”.
“I love smoking cigars. I’d love one thanks”.
So I put a lit cigar in his mouth and set to work on his hair again.
Picking up the clippers, I removed the guard and bit into the remaining hair on the sides leaving a band of white skin behind. As tiny fragments of hair fell onto the ends of his cigar I smiled as he puffed and inhaled like a true pro.
Once I had shaved the sides with the clippers I picked up my trimming scissors and gave the top of his head a nice distressed look. It was exactly how it looked. A man chopping chunks out leaving it ragged and uneven. Coating the sides with foam, I took the straight razor and began to sweep away the remaining bits of hair leaving a surgically smooth line between the unshaved area and the remaining hair. Strangely, it also left his skin tanned brown with a rather fetching tribal tattoo down each side. Quickly I braided the remaining hair which now ran to about a foot below his shoulders. I moved to the front and looked critically at his face. An idea came into my head and I smiled. It was perfect…….
Chapter Four
“It looks like you could do with a shave mate. I have just the look for you.”
“Fucking go for it mate, I trust you”.
It was nice to see his speech patterns changing so fast. Sometimes they realise what I’m up to and they resist causing the whole thing to become a bit unreliable. They never win, but even I’m surprised at the results sometimes.
But I digress. Wiping the foam round his face, I carefully shaved the areas I was interested in. Very quickly a different looking man appeared in front of me. With a crack, I saw his nose break and flatten. A gloop noise, and a couple of double chins appeared and his face filled out. I finished shaving him and looked at the results. He now had a long goatee beard with no moustache. It was thick and about two feet long. I quickly divided the beard into two and braided each section so he had two plaits hanging off his chin. I concentrated for a moment and with several plops a bullet stud appeared in each nostril, a gold ring in his eyebrow, a stud in the center of his top lip, and several rings of varying sizes and thickness in each ear. I finished it off with thick black celtic sideburns tattooed on each side of his face.
“Well mate, all done. What do you think?”
“Fuck yeah. You did a fucking amazing job mate. I’ll let the other boys in the chapter know how good you are”.
I pulled off the cape and saw his outfit had totally changed. Gone were the expensive suit and shoes and watch, in their place was an outfit more fitting for the big rough bloke in front of me.
He now had a very fit, but moderately overweight body. His belly hung over the tight black leather jeans that looked painted on. They were tucked into a pair of high black polished bike boots and held up with a thick plain leather belt. He wore a black t-shirt with a guns and roses logo and a worn black leather waistcoat. Running down both arms were intricate tribal tattoos that ended below his wrist and ran up both sides of his neck to just below his ears. As he lumbered to his feet and reached for his motorcycle jacket with the hells angel chapter logo painted on the back his hand accidentally rubbed my crotch and he felt my raging hard-on. He grinned at me as he started to massage my cock in my tight jeans and I could see through his leather jeans that his cock was just as hard as mine. I had taken him from middle management bully boy to construction labourer where he was constantly ordered around. He was still the man who had come into my shop, but I had rewritten his history and the world thought it had always been like this. As I led him into the back of the shop and he thrust his horny pierced tongue into my mouth and pinned me up the wall, I thought to myself “Hey, its good to be a god”…….