This story is fictional.
Part 1
It was early December and I was in my third year at University studying Economics. It was near the end of term, but graduate recruitment season was in full swing. I had managed to get a final stage interview with a company at an office in a town in Berkshire, which meant getting the train down from Derby where I was studying.
Travelling by train in England is stressful at the best of times, but in winter, when cancellations are fairly common, the journey today was pretty hellish. I went down the day before – the company had a small hotel they were going to put me up in – but my best laid plans went awry. I’d hoped to get in around 2:30, I’d scoped out a barbers to get a hair cut (which I desperately needed – the last time I’d had my hair cut was in September) and spend some time prepping for my interview in the hotel.
Well, it’s 5pm and I’d just got out of the station. I sprinted down the High Street to the barbers, hoping it would still be open. The guy in charge was in the doorway, just locking up. “Sorry mate, I’m done for the day. I’m back open tomorrow at 9.”
“Please mate, you’ve got to help me out” I said. I told him all about the cancelled trains, the missed connections, the woman sat beside me who spilled her tea on my trousers. I told him about the interview, my plans for the day, and that I checked out all the barbers in town and I liked the look of this one – the photos of the clients looked great, it’s LGBTQ+ friendly, they used my favourite hair products. “Please” I said “I am begging you. I just need a haircut.” He looked up at me, square into my eyes. “I’m really sorry about all that” he said. “But…”
I’m really desperate mate. Even if you have to cut my hair here in the street. I’ll do anything.” He stopped, looked down, fished the keys out of his pocket. I was ecstatic. Finally something was going my way today. “Put your stuff in the back room and fire up the coffee machine. I’m gonna have to pull down the blinds – if the owner sees I’m still open, he’ll kill me.”
I shuffled into the back room. I thought it might be dingy, but it was nice. A big staff coffee table, TV, coffee machine, door for the staff changing room. As I’d pressed the button for an espresso, he walked in “I’m Rick by the way.” I extended my hand “I’m Greg, so grateful mate, you’re my hero”.
“What do you want done? It’s cash only I’m afraid as the computers have all been knocked off”. I pulled out my wallet “Just short at the back and sides, cut short on top, not a big fan of these fades…oh shit”.
“What’s up?” Rick said. “I don’t have any cash” I replied meekly. Rick laughed, shaking his head. “Well, that’s a great start.” As he smiled kindly at me, I could see an idea came into his head. “OK then – you said you’d do anything for this haircut. Let’s see if you’re good to your word.” I gulped. What did he have in mind?
“We are LGBT friendly because the manager….” Rick pointed at himself “…is bi. So you can have this haircut for free, but only if you obey every word I say.” I froze – what the hell did he mean? “Oh…OK – I mean I guess I don’t have a choice” I said nervously.
“I guess not” said Rick. “Let’s start with some collateral.” He pointed to the staff safe. “I want you to strip naked and leave your clothes in there. Ever had a naked haircut before Greg?”
“Fucking hell” I said. I left some silence to see if he was being serious. “Come on mate, if you want a haircut get those keks off, I don’t have all day”. He sat on a chair at the table as I slowly peeled my jumper off, then my t-shirt, unbuckled my belt and let my jeans fall to the floor. As I turned to put everything in the safe, Rick wolf whistled. “Nice jockstrap mate, but that’s got to go too – health and safety reasons”. I turned and saw him smile. I was stood in front of him, 5’11”, dirty blond hair, pretty average body – not a twink, more like an otter with a decent matt of dark hair on my chest and a treasure trail down to my waist. I pulled down my jock, already semi hard at this bizarre evening I was having, miles away from home.
I thought I needed to play along “Thank you Rick. Anything else you want from me?” “Let’s talk about consent.” he said. “Am I OK to touch you? Anything you don’t want me to do?” He was being so dominant, this took me by surprise. And unfortunately, it made me harder, with my cock swinging to full mast, all 7 inches of it.
“I said I’d do anything, and I hope to honour that Rick.” “Good” he said “I can see you’re excited to begin. But if it gets uncomfortable, just say stop, and we’ll stop.” I nodded. “Head out to the chair in the main room – I’ll be with you in a minute.” I left the staff room and settled on a chair in the middle of the salon. Mirrors everywhere, I felt so exposed. “What the fuck am I doing?” I thought. The door creaked open and out walked Greg. 5’8”, similar build to me, ginger hair short and styled. And wearing nothing but my jock. “Hope you don’t mind me trying this on?” he said. He was much hairier than me, pretty average build. My jock wasn’t leaving much to the imagination. He was hard and the jock was tenting, I could see his hairy balls starting to poke out. He caught be staring. “Shall I take it off?” he said. “I think it suits you Rick” I shot back.
Rick had brought out some massage oil. “First up, let’s get you relaxed.” He poured oil into his hands and approached the chair from the front. He straddled me and started moving his hands over my chest. “Is that good?” My cock brushed up against his balls as he stroked my arms, then my stomach, and moved towards my cock. “That’s really good” I said. He edged my cock for a moment and moved his hands away. “Plenty of time for that later” he said. He started working on my hair, occasionally stopping to rub my shoulders and chest. When the haircut was done, he disappeared to get a mirror and a towel. When he came back, under the towel he’d hidden a pair of handcuffs. He took one of my wrists and slapped the handcuff on. “Time for a little game” he smiled. He put the handcuffs behind the seat, slapping my wrist on the other side. “I’ve always wanted to do something like this and now I have the perfect opportunity.” Where is this going now I thought. He moved to the counter and pulled out a trimmer.
“I’ve always been a hairy bloke. Armpits” He held him arms up to show off a bushy mess. “Back” he turned around to reveal a slightly hairy back, and a wonderful peachy arse. “Chest obviously. And crotch”. He turned around and pulled off my jockstrap to reveal his throbbing 8 inch cock in a thick bed of bright red hair. “Would I be prepared to lose it all?” His eyes twinkled. He switched on his razor and pointed at his chest hair. “Not unless the stakes were high enough on the other side – one massive dare, one big gamble. Well now’s my chance.” He moved the trimmers close to my chest. “Here’s the deal. I bet I can make you cum in under 3 minutes. If I do, I get to shave your armpits, chest, legs, and crotch. If not, you get to watch me lose mine. What do you think Greg? Are you up for being shaved?”
I was so confused, my mind was a blur. I really liked my chest hair, I might have to explain what happened to a few friends back at uni. But on the other hand, this was such a hot thing for someone to do, tie me up and wank me off. And yet, I had a cockiness too. I can’t let this arrogant guy get his way all the time. I could do this and watch him pay up big time. I’m sure I could last 3 minutes.
“Bring it on – you don’t stand a chance” I said. “That’s fighting talk from the guy who’s been constantly hard for the last 25 minutes” Rick said. “Right” he said, showing me his watch and setting a three minute timer. “Let’s do this. Three, two, one…”
Part 1
It was early December and I was in my third year at University studying Economics. It was near the end of term, but graduate recruitment season was in full swing. I had managed to get a final stage interview with a company at an office in a town in Berkshire, which meant getting the train down from Derby where I was studying.
Travelling by train in England is stressful at the best of times, but in winter, when cancellations are fairly common, the journey today was pretty hellish. I went down the day before – the company had a small hotel they were going to put me up in – but my best laid plans went awry. I’d hoped to get in around 2:30, I’d scoped out a barbers to get a hair cut (which I desperately needed – the last time I’d had my hair cut was in September) and spend some time prepping for my interview in the hotel.
Well, it’s 5pm and I’d just got out of the station. I sprinted down the High Street to the barbers, hoping it would still be open. The guy in charge was in the doorway, just locking up. “Sorry mate, I’m done for the day. I’m back open tomorrow at 9.”
“Please mate, you’ve got to help me out” I said. I told him all about the cancelled trains, the missed connections, the woman sat beside me who spilled her tea on my trousers. I told him about the interview, my plans for the day, and that I checked out all the barbers in town and I liked the look of this one – the photos of the clients looked great, it’s LGBTQ+ friendly, they used my favourite hair products. “Please” I said “I am begging you. I just need a haircut.” He looked up at me, square into my eyes. “I’m really sorry about all that” he said. “But…”
I’m really desperate mate. Even if you have to cut my hair here in the street. I’ll do anything.” He stopped, looked down, fished the keys out of his pocket. I was ecstatic. Finally something was going my way today. “Put your stuff in the back room and fire up the coffee machine. I’m gonna have to pull down the blinds – if the owner sees I’m still open, he’ll kill me.”
I shuffled into the back room. I thought it might be dingy, but it was nice. A big staff coffee table, TV, coffee machine, door for the staff changing room. As I’d pressed the button for an espresso, he walked in “I’m Rick by the way.” I extended my hand “I’m Greg, so grateful mate, you’re my hero”.
“What do you want done? It’s cash only I’m afraid as the computers have all been knocked off”. I pulled out my wallet “Just short at the back and sides, cut short on top, not a big fan of these fades…oh shit”.
“What’s up?” Rick said. “I don’t have any cash” I replied meekly. Rick laughed, shaking his head. “Well, that’s a great start.” As he smiled kindly at me, I could see an idea came into his head. “OK then – you said you’d do anything for this haircut. Let’s see if you’re good to your word.” I gulped. What did he have in mind?
“We are LGBT friendly because the manager….” Rick pointed at himself “…is bi. So you can have this haircut for free, but only if you obey every word I say.” I froze – what the hell did he mean? “Oh…OK – I mean I guess I don’t have a choice” I said nervously.
“I guess not” said Rick. “Let’s start with some collateral.” He pointed to the staff safe. “I want you to strip naked and leave your clothes in there. Ever had a naked haircut before Greg?”
“Fucking hell” I said. I left some silence to see if he was being serious. “Come on mate, if you want a haircut get those keks off, I don’t have all day”. He sat on a chair at the table as I slowly peeled my jumper off, then my t-shirt, unbuckled my belt and let my jeans fall to the floor. As I turned to put everything in the safe, Rick wolf whistled. “Nice jockstrap mate, but that’s got to go too – health and safety reasons”. I turned and saw him smile. I was stood in front of him, 5’11”, dirty blond hair, pretty average body – not a twink, more like an otter with a decent matt of dark hair on my chest and a treasure trail down to my waist. I pulled down my jock, already semi hard at this bizarre evening I was having, miles away from home.
I thought I needed to play along “Thank you Rick. Anything else you want from me?” “Let’s talk about consent.” he said. “Am I OK to touch you? Anything you don’t want me to do?” He was being so dominant, this took me by surprise. And unfortunately, it made me harder, with my cock swinging to full mast, all 7 inches of it.
“I said I’d do anything, and I hope to honour that Rick.” “Good” he said “I can see you’re excited to begin. But if it gets uncomfortable, just say stop, and we’ll stop.” I nodded. “Head out to the chair in the main room – I’ll be with you in a minute.” I left the staff room and settled on a chair in the middle of the salon. Mirrors everywhere, I felt so exposed. “What the fuck am I doing?” I thought. The door creaked open and out walked Greg. 5’8”, similar build to me, ginger hair short and styled. And wearing nothing but my jock. “Hope you don’t mind me trying this on?” he said. He was much hairier than me, pretty average build. My jock wasn’t leaving much to the imagination. He was hard and the jock was tenting, I could see his hairy balls starting to poke out. He caught be staring. “Shall I take it off?” he said. “I think it suits you Rick” I shot back.
Rick had brought out some massage oil. “First up, let’s get you relaxed.” He poured oil into his hands and approached the chair from the front. He straddled me and started moving his hands over my chest. “Is that good?” My cock brushed up against his balls as he stroked my arms, then my stomach, and moved towards my cock. “That’s really good” I said. He edged my cock for a moment and moved his hands away. “Plenty of time for that later” he said. He started working on my hair, occasionally stopping to rub my shoulders and chest. When the haircut was done, he disappeared to get a mirror and a towel. When he came back, under the towel he’d hidden a pair of handcuffs. He took one of my wrists and slapped the handcuff on. “Time for a little game” he smiled. He put the handcuffs behind the seat, slapping my wrist on the other side. “I’ve always wanted to do something like this and now I have the perfect opportunity.” Where is this going now I thought. He moved to the counter and pulled out a trimmer.
“I’ve always been a hairy bloke. Armpits” He held him arms up to show off a bushy mess. “Back” he turned around to reveal a slightly hairy back, and a wonderful peachy arse. “Chest obviously. And crotch”. He turned around and pulled off my jockstrap to reveal his throbbing 8 inch cock in a thick bed of bright red hair. “Would I be prepared to lose it all?” His eyes twinkled. He switched on his razor and pointed at his chest hair. “Not unless the stakes were high enough on the other side – one massive dare, one big gamble. Well now’s my chance.” He moved the trimmers close to my chest. “Here’s the deal. I bet I can make you cum in under 3 minutes. If I do, I get to shave your armpits, chest, legs, and crotch. If not, you get to watch me lose mine. What do you think Greg? Are you up for being shaved?”
I was so confused, my mind was a blur. I really liked my chest hair, I might have to explain what happened to a few friends back at uni. But on the other hand, this was such a hot thing for someone to do, tie me up and wank me off. And yet, I had a cockiness too. I can’t let this arrogant guy get his way all the time. I could do this and watch him pay up big time. I’m sure I could last 3 minutes.
“Bring it on – you don’t stand a chance” I said. “That’s fighting talk from the guy who’s been constantly hard for the last 25 minutes” Rick said. “Right” he said, showing me his watch and setting a three minute timer. “Let’s do this. Three, two, one…”
