Tales From a Barbers Shop 2: A Change of Style

This Story may be reproduced without permission on any non-payment site, and with permission from me on any pay per view site. Any comments or suggestions are gratefully received at [email protected]. As per usual, if you are under aged by the laws of your country or are easily upset by stories with a gay subject matter, then please stop reading now.

Read previous part

Chapter One

The roar of the Harley faded into the distance as my new friend drove off to his new day job. I was quite impressed with Bruiser, as he was now known, and didn’t think it was a bad effort for my first attempt in my new line of business. If they all turned out like him I was going to have a lot of fun. I just hoped they wouldn’t be quite so energetic next time. I had bruises on places I didn’t even know you could bruise. Still, it was fun, and I knew he would be back weekly to have his new look touched up. Mind you, as far as he was concerned it was the look he’d always had.

I fetched the broom and swept up the debris from his cut. I really needed an assistant for these mundane things. My time was far too important to waste on cleaning and tidying. And just then, the shop bell rang and in swaggered a police officer. He was tall and muscular, with a nice head of well cut blonde hair. About 25 years old, he seemed to be poured into his uniform, every muscle picked out and highlighted with his large package clearly on display. The way he wore his utility belt and the fluid strut as he walked into the room gave him an animal sensuality that made my cock spring to life in my pants, as though I hadn’t just spent the last 2 hours screwing and being screwed within an inch of my life.

“Good afternoon officer, can I help you?” I asked casually as he scanned my humble establishment with his sharp eyes.

“Just checking in Sir” he said, “We try to make sure all the new businesses in the area get a visit to make sure everything is ok and that there are no problems”.

“No officer, everything is fine. I have just seen to my first customer and it looks like I might be here for quite a while”.

“That’s good sir. We wouldn’t like to see anything awkward happen to such a fine establishment. If you understand my meaning Sir”.

I looked at him sharply. Up until that moment I hadn’t really been paying too much attention to anything except the shape of his body in his oh so fine uniform and wondering if there was going to be a way to get him out of it without using a little of my special touch.

“Are you talking about what I think you are talking about officer? I thought extortion and racketeering was not high on the polices agenda”.

“Whoa Sir, you misunderstand me. My colleague and I” he pointed out of the window to where I could see the shape of another man in a police uniform “are just trying to protect the local traders from the rougher elements in the neighbourhood. There are some nasty people roaming the streets and for a small weekly fee, we make sure that nothing untoward happens to your premises. A burglary, or a small fire so early on in your shops life could be disastrous. We just make sure to warn off any undesirable elements so you can continue to trade in peace”.

“Oh, my mistake then. And how much would it cost me to ensure I’m left unmolested?”

“Half your weekly take Sir. I understand its high, but we have overheads, people to pay off. You know how it works, you are a business man yourself”.

I looked at this insufferable young puppy in disbelief. Give him half my takings? I know I don’t need money as such, but it’s a good way of keeping score. It looked like someone had just made a life changing decision without realising it. I smiled to myself then, whilst still trying to look like the outraged barber.

“I suppose I have no choice in the matter young man. I suppose you and your partner will be wanting a new haircut every week too free of charge…”

I could almost see the cogs turning in his head as I spoke. Greed will always take the opportunity to take more. I have a low opinion of human beings and am rarely disappointed. They always seem to be so self serving and petty. I admit, they supply me with endless opportunities for mischief, but needs must when this devil drives as they say.

“Sounds like we have a deal Sir” he said relaxing slightly.

“Well there’s no time like the present is there officer? If you and your mate would like to hop into the chair I’ll give you a quick trim to seal the deal.”

“Hey Dave,” he shouted, “get in here. The nice barbers giving us a haircut on the house”.

“Great Chris. I need a trim” came a loud deep baritone voice from near the door.

Into the shop walked an older guy, around mid thirties. Short cropped hair grown slightly shaggy, with a nice beard both a week overdue for a trim. He was more husky than Chris and had the beginnings of a small pot belly that hung slightly over his utility belt, though he was still muscular. His hair was jet black and I could see the fur poking though the open necked shirt.

“Well gentlemen, if you would both like to be seated in one of my very comfortable chairs, I’ll get started.”

“Ok then Sir, but no funny cuts. We will be watching carefully and it will go very badly for you if you fuck it up intentionally” said Chris.

“Oh indeed not officer. Every customer leaves my chair totally satisfied. I guarantee it. Now, shall we begin?”


Chapter Two

Chris sat in the first chair, by the window and Dave sat closest to me. I grabbed two capes and proceeded to tuck them in snugly. It was going to be a hard choice who to do first really, but I already had a couple of ideas as to the end result.

Turning to Chris first. I tilted his head back and ran my fingers through his hair, sifting his mind and nibbling gently on his dried up nasty little soul. I needn’t have worried too much at what I was going to do to him, as I found out all I needed to know. He was a complete bastard. He screwed women then dumped them crying after he had finished with them. Those he couldn’t get with his good looks, he drugged and had anyway. There was a trail of broken hearts leading all the way back to when he was 14 and he enjoyed knowing he could have any woman he wanted. I also found out that Dave was the junior partner in their little enterprise. Not innocent by any means, but more easily led by his charismatic and handsome partner. Chris knew that Dave had a crush on him so played it to the hilt and so had led him down the path of corruption.

“Just relax, Chris, this won’t hurt a bit” I said as I gently turned him to the sink. I washed his hair, then wrapped it in a towel to dry a little. He found it relaxing and started to doze off.

I then turned to Dave, and ran my fingers through his mind. He was quite a surprise really. He still had morals and was upset at the way Chris was destroying his dream of being a police officer. It was all he had wanted to do since he was a child, and Chris had spoiled it for him. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Dave was desperately in love with Chris he would have turned him in when it all started. Unfortunately, he was in too deeply now and couldn’t see a way out.

“Sleep my big furry bear, I’ll make things right again. And as my present to you, I’m giving you your hearts desire as well as my own”.

With that, I grabbed my clippers and started to run them slowly over Dave’s head. He moaned with pleasure and I could see him starting to move his arm up slowly up and down as he kneaded his rapidly growing cock. I took layer after layer of hair off, until I was down to the final shave, with no guard on. I had decided against shaving his head, but as I brushed the remaining loose flecks off I saw that he now had severe male pattern baldness. Round his head was just a horseshoe of hair dipping low at the back. Moreover, he appeared to have become ginger. Not the pale straw or deep dark red that’s almost black, but proper true, orange ginger. Freckles also dotted his scalp as his complexion altered to match his new colouring.

Turning to his face and beard, I decided that ginger hair and a black beard just didn’t work, so grabbing a bottle of shampoo, I washed his beard and eyebrows until all that nasty black had gone and his facial hair matched that of his head. He really did look cute now with the thick bristly red beard and with a moments thought he developed a few accessories. Through his septum grew a nice thick horseshoe barbell, small in diameter but nice and thick, with a ball on each end. His nose became thicker and flatter to match his new ethnic heritage. In the center of his eyebrows, which had become a nice bushy unibrow, sprouted a bar bell and in each ear a large 20mm thick plug with the Scottish flag decorating the center.

Removing the cape, I realised that the policeman’s uniform he was wearing really didn’t go with his new face so he became immediately naked. His body hair was now ginger as well, and he had a really nice freckle pattern all over his body. Slowly, his body began to inflate. I watched as his chest expanded with fat and his pecs slowly sagged into an impressive set of man boobs. His stomach grew till he looked like he had swallowed a beach ball, and his legs grew like tree trunks. His balls slowly grew then dropped becoming an impressively large, low hanging pair in a furry sack and his cock thickened and lengthened until he could barely get his meaty paw round it. Rings sprouted down the shaft and between his legs, and through the piss hole came several quite thick rings. Here was a man who knew what his cock was for and was determined to get as much fun from it as possible. I looked at his now thick long nipples and they became well chewed and sprouted two rings each. On his right upper arm a large tattoo of the Scottish flag appeared with the words “Scotland Forever” round it and on his left the words “Fuck The English” in thick gothic letters. I decided then, that enough was enough and dressed him. A dirty white wife beater appeared on his body, the copious body hair sticking out from every angle. A tartan kilt was next, with a wide black cracked leather belt round his waist. A sporran was next, and on his feet appeared a pair of thick grey woollen socks pushed down to the tops of a pair of dirty tan caterpillar boots. On each wrist appeared a wide leather band, and round his neck appeared a leather thong tied in a hangman’s noose.

I looked at my new masterpiece with glee. Gone was the submissive corrupt English police officer dreaming of a career that he had totally fucked up, and in his place was a dominant, aggressive, Scottish truck driver fiercely proud of his heritage and not giving a shit what anyone else thought. Mess with this guy now, and you would take your teeth home in a bag.

I left him to doze while I turned my attention to Chris. This was going to be fun…


Chapter Three

Chris was still asleep when I turned my attention to him. I thought about making him match the huge leather daddy bear sleeping in the next chair, then decided against it. Something a bit more interesting was called for.

I unwrapped the towel and looked at the results. His blonde hair was now jet black, and he had a good stubble growth on his face. Pulling out the clippers I made swift work of removing all his hair, then covered his head in foam. As I shaved the remaining stubble from his head it took a few minutes to make him as smooth and shiny as a baby. Turning to his face, I shaved him nice and smooth round the mouth and cheek area, leaving him with a nice pair of sideburns which terminated at the edge of his mouth. They looked quite awesome with his nice shiny head and I deepened his tan so that it wasn’t quite so stark.

At the side of his right nostril a small hinged ring appeared and in both of his ears there was suddenly a stretching spike. From the looks of things, he was in the process of stretching the holes up to a quite significant size. In his tongue there was suddenly a bar bell with large balls on each end, and in the center of his now full and pouting lip was a small ring. This was a mouth designed to give pleasure.

Pulling off the cape, I swiftly removed his policeman’s uniform. Naked, he was magnificent. His chest was just a huge pair of muscles like continental slabs. He had a really nice six pack with a good coating of hair that he had trimmed and shaped to accentuate the shape and make them appear to be even better than they already were. He had a nice set of balls and his cock was as impressive as I had thought it would be with a thick meaty foreskin pulled down over the head.

With a nod, all of his body hair was pulled from his body leaving him with that freshly waxed look. Every inch of his body from the neck down was completely smooth now and his tan extended from his head all the way down to his feet, with just a small groin area and a thin line left white, as though he had been kept in the sunshine naked except for a small thong.

Looking at his cock, I removed the foreskin but left it slightly raw as though it had been recently removed and only just healed. A small padlock appeared through the piss slit and a bar bell poked through the center of it, cross wise. I do love to see an ampallang on a man and thought it was appropriate.

Moving up to his nipples, a ring appeared in each, obviously fresh and still not fully healed. They obviously needed working on as they were still small and pert, but I’m sure in a short space of time they would be big and well used.

Standing back to look at my work, I had a nagging feeling something was missing. With a thought, fresh unhealed tattoos appeared. From the look of it, they had been done today, before coming into my shop. On his right arm appeared a matching tattoo of Dave’s, a Scottish flag with “Scotland Forever” and on his left arm a large union flag with the words “English Scum”. On the left side of his neck there was a Celtic cross surrounded by flames and in a semi circle round his collar bone were the words “Scotsman’s Pig slave”.

The final touch was the word “Skinhead” in large gothic letters across his back.

Clothes maketh the man they say, so in dressing him I decided to make him a very trad skin. He had a yellow check Fred Perry button down collar shirt done up to the neck. A pair of skin tight jeans were next, worn at the crotch to draw attention to the large bulge in his trousers. High, heavy, 20-hole cherry red Ranger boots appeared on his feet with yellow laces tied tight at the top. The jeans came to just below the top of the boots, so that when sitting they rode up showing the yellow socks underneath. A pair of yellow braces were next, hanging down from the waistband, and in his back right hand pocket was a yellow bandanna. There would be no mistaking this boys new fetish. The final touch was a thick chain padlocked round his neck.

I was quite impressed with the end results. The police officer that had entered my shop had gone. In his place was a fresh faced piss drinking skinhead slave. His new history was quite revealing. Kicked out of the police force for corruption six months ago, there hadn’t been enough evidence for a conviction. Penniless and homeless, he had been hitch hiking and met Dave, a rough nasty Scottish trucker doing the London to Edinburgh run. After finding out Chris’s story when Chris got drunk that night, Dave raped Chris and gave him a choice. Either submit to Dave and become his gay slave, or he would be beaten within an inch of his life and abandoned in a ditch in the middle of nowhere. Dave promised that he would always look after Chris but the price was total obedience. Even though he remained straight, Chris had no choice in the matter and submitted to a life of servitude and use. He screamed a lot in the beginning, especially when he was forcibly turned into a skinhead. He sobbed the first time he saw his hairless self, and when his foreskin was removed at the same time as his cock was pierced he felt part of his soul crumble and finally accepted his new role. The final straw was today when Dave took him to the tattooists and he had been indelibly marked for the rest of his life.

As Chris woke up, he looked over at his master. Dave, or Jock as he was now known, winked at me, then gestured Chris over with a quick flick of his head. Lifting his kilt, he gestured to his massive cock and Chris fell to his knees wrapping his lips round the huge organ. I heard the distinctive sound of a man pissing and saw Chris struggling to swallow the full flow without choking. As it slackened, Chris’s head started to bob up and down and I could hear him gagging as it banged off the back of his throat. Jock pulled out a large curved Boswell pipe from his sporran and placing it into his mouth, lit it. Fragrant smoke drifted from his mouth as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the pleasure he was receiving. Suddenly he started to puff faster on the pipe and the clouds of smoke became thicker until with a low animal growl he shot his load down his skin slaves throat.. Opening his eyes at last, he looked at Chris on his knees still with his masters cock in his mouth. Jock pulled out with a plop and rubbed his slaves head fondly. “Good boy” he said, and Chris’s face lit up.

Jock looked at me and smiled. “Sorry about that” he said in a thick Scots accent. “Sometimes a bloke can’t resist.”

“Oh I understand perfectly. But back to business. I let your slave sleep upstairs in the spare room in exchange for working in the shop doing the cleaning, reception work, and general donkey work while you are on the road. Every weekend he spends with you, as well as the times you need someone to help you out on a run. I also get to use his mouth and arse when the mood takes me, but keep him away from anyone else unless you agree to it before hand.”

Aye man, that sounds fine to me. The boy needs a lot of work yet, but I’m sure between us we can whip him into shape.”

With that, jock pulled on a large battered green MA1 jacket with a hi-viz waistcoat over the top, and Chris pulled on a very nice heavy black Crombie. As they left, Chris a respectful 2 steps behind Jock, I reflected on what had been a great day. First a biker with a very high sex drive, and now a trucker and his skinhead slave, and I get a new dogsbody to help in the shop. Who needs to put adverts in the help wanted section when the perfect candidate is going to walk in off the street? I smiled as I locked the shop doors and turned off the lights. So many deserving cases, and so little time. Still, tomorrow is another day, and who knows what will happen.

Read next part