Imagine having a barber who knew every detail of your haircutting fantasies.  Then imagine this barber was determined that you would actually experience every detail of your haircutting fantasies.  Finally, imagine that this barber would gently, but relentlessly dominate you so that you could just sit back, relax, and know that any doubts or reservations you might have simply wouldn't matter and that this would occur.   

Well, I know its not nice to brag, but ... I don't have to just imagine this.  Because my barber's name is DJ.  And he returned yesterday for our second haircut together. 

 Act One

 I sat in DJ's chair, with the cape around my neck, facing a wall mirror.  DJ warned me that this haircut was going to be in two stages.  The first stage wouldn't be too short.  The second stage wasn't something I needed to worry myself about for now.  So I had some inkling of what was to follow.  But I didn't anticipate that DJ would have the patience and endurance for the ride that he was to take me on for the next hour and a half.

 I had confided in DJ that I really enjoy having my hair wet down when it is being cut.  I had lamented to him that the barber rarely did this.  Sometimes he would and sometimes he wouldn't, it seemed so arbitrary.  Yet, I couldn't get the nerve to just ask the barber to wet my hair down.  Still, I enjoyed this aspect of haircuts so much, I would sometimes think I should just get my haircut when it was raining outside, so I would be assured that my hair would have to be wet when he cut it.  (Unless he foiled that plan by blow drying it at the start!)

 So after combing my hair a bit, DJ reached for the spray bottle and made my hair good and wet.  Not just an arbitrarily light mist here or there, but nice and wet so there was no doubt about it.  This immediately put DJ in control.  As I had explained to him, what can you do when you are sitting in the barber chair with wet hair?  Either get up and leave with wet hair or sit there until the barber decides your haircut is over.  The first simply wouldn't be an option for someone like me with a strongly submissive bent to his hair "focus."

 Then DJ picked up the electric clippers and began to bring the back down close.  I had told him how great it feels to be dominated by having the barber place his hand on top of my head as he is tapering the back.  As DJ worked the back down close to the skin, he held his hand firmly on top, tilting my head down gently. 

 Obviously, as he began to cut, I couldn't see what he was doing.  Only DJ could see the back.  So what could I do?  Certainly, I was not responsible for what was going on back there.  This was something only DJ could control.  I might as well just sit there and hope he doesn't do anything too radical. 

 I could feel that he was taking the back down close.  Once the back was cut close, what could I do?  This was going to set the tone for the rest of this haircut.

 After working his way around the back, DJ ran the clippers up my neck toward my ears.  He began taking the sides down.  When he began, the sides were a good 1/2 inch.  As he brought the clippers up the sides, I knew the sides would be much shorter. The sides were going to be as close as the back.  In fact, for everything to be in proportion, I began to realize that I would be lucky if I was left with ANY hair on my head that was 1/2 inch.  

 DJ worked from side to side, tapering a bit on one side, then matching it on the other side.  This way the sides never got too out of proportion, which might have made the shortness more apparent and more stressful to me.  This way he could take them down so gradually, so that each stroke was just a little closer.  At each stage, the sides still gave the appearance of having hair, not a totally shaved looked.  So one more stroke, just a little closer couldn't hurt, right? 

 When he was done with the sides, they were down to 1/8 inch down low and not more than 3/8 of inch up to the crown.

 DJ again refreshed the wetness of my hair.  The water had a different feel than the first time he sprayed my hair. This time it penetrated right through the hair on the sides and back that remained and cooled the skin below.

 I felt DJ brush my hair and part it neatly.  A crisp, neat, and straight part down the left side.  I knew that DJ wasn't crazy about parts, yet he knew how much I liked them.  I had told him how much comfort I find in having my hair neatly parted.  And how turned on I get especially when the hair is wet and has a slick look to it.  I think that gives guys such an innocent, earnest, and gentlemanly look that I find very appealing, particularly if it is obvious from the neat, crisp look to their hair that they have just had a haircut.

 I expected DJ to begin cutting the top.  But instead, I saw what he had in his hand.  A spritzer of spray-on gel.  This was getting interesting.  DJ was really going to do this -- to give me that wet, slicked look on top with a crisp part that I loved so much, but which I had simply admired from afar, never having the nerve to wear my hair like that.  He sprayed the gel liberally on my hair, especially on the top, and continued brushing and combing it into place.

 Only then did he begin working around the crown and on the top with the scissors.  When he began, my hair was about an inch to an inch and a quarter on top.  That seems like ancient history.

 He trimmed the hair carefully with small snips with a scissors, working with the contours of my head.  Each hair was cut and recut and recut in an orderly progression to bring them all down together, little by little.  No big quick snips here and there to startle or draw attention to the slow but sure eradication of the length of my hair.  He worked his way from back to front all the way to the very front of my head.  He trimmed the bangs and swept the short hair that remained in front to the side.  By the time he was done with the top, no hair was left that was more than 3/4 inch.

 I thought we were about done.  But then DJ announced that he was going to "clean me up around the edges."  DJ squirted a small amount of shaving cream on his hand and smoothly dabbed it around my ears and back.  I sat there as he applied a straight razor around my ear.  I felt the coarse razor scrape the skin as close as possible around the ear, yet never nicking it.  DJ bent my ear back and worked his way to the sideburn. 

 Then he glided the razor down the back of my neck.  The smooth scraping sensation tickled the back of my neck and sent a chill down my spine.  I wished at that moment that I had 100 necks, instead of just one, and that DJ would glide the razor down each and every one of them.  Finally, he worked his way all around my neck and scraped around the other ear, bending it back until it was clean of any stubble around the edges. 

 DJ stepped away.  I heard him turn the water on at the sink.  He returned with a towel bathed in warm water.  He enveloped the sides and back of my head with the towel.  The warmth penetrated my ears and neck and washed any remaining muscle tension away.  He wiped my head carefully to ensure that no trace of shaving cream remained.

Finally, he made a few finishing snips here and there.  He brushed my hair.  And then he said that it was time for me to see what he had done.

He handed me my glasses.  I took them, but I leaned forward anyway and stood up so I could get a really good long look in the mirror.  Yes, this really was my fantasy haircut that I had thought about for so long.  Close sides and back.  Short on top, yet enough to brush to the side.  With the neatest, crispest part I'd ever had.  Wet down and slicked down on top.

We talked a bit about the haircut and my feelings about it.  How it truly was the haircut I had never had the nerve to try, but always liked from the time I was a boy.

DJ seemed to understand.  He didn't rush me.  But I knew that DJ had decided that there was more to come.

"Are you ready for stage two?" he asked.  It was nice that he phrased it as a question.  Yet it was a question to which I knew there was only one answer he would accept.  I didn't say anything.  I just nodded my head in submission.

Act Two

 "Just sit back and leave it to me," he said with a reassuring tone and an air of authority.

 I confided him, "I know I should be a little nervous at this point, but for some reason I'm not.  I really trust you to do something that will look nice.  You've gotten me totally relaxed."

 DJ applied the electric clippers again to the back.  I couldn't believe that the back was going to be even shorter than it already was.  He tilted my head down and held his hand on top of my head firmly as before.  He pressed the clippers firmly against the skin this time.  And I felt him glide it up the back even higher than before. 

Next, it was time for the sides to be transformed into an even closer cut.  DJ pressed the clippers firmly against the skin and ran the clippers all the way from the ears up to the crown.  The 1/8 inch taper was not just reserved for right around the ears any more.  It continued up the sides.  DJ made certain that no hair on the sides was left more than 1/4 inch almost all the way to the part, with most of the sides shaved down to 1/8 of an inch.

 DJ, however, reserved most of his attention for the top.  To me, the 3/4 of an inch that still remained was short.  I began to realize that DJ had a more dramatic transformation in mind for the top. 

 DJ began to cut the top with the scissors.  Even though I couldn't really see too clearly in the mirror what he was doing, I felt and sensed that he was taking quite a lot off the already short top.

 "How short are you making the top?" I asked, a bit nervously.

 "Well, somewhat shorter," he responded.

 That appeased me for a while.  But as he continued working his way toward the front and continued clipping away, I began to see a new shape taking place on top that was going to give this haircut a very different look.  The part was disappearing.  This haircut would be way too short to ever part.

 I was definitely going to have a new hairstyle.  A perfect "ivy league" was taking shape before my eyes.

 "Can you give me a measurement for the top.  I'm not going to stop you, I just want to know," I asked again, still a bit nervous, seeking some certainty in where this would end.

 "Well, I don't want you worrying about a measurement. You'll still have hair on top.  I wouldn't shave it, don't worry about that.  I won't do that to you," he replied reassuringly.

 He took the electric clippers and ran them from front to back over the top, but he didn't press hard.  I could feel that he was using the clippers mostly to neaten it up.  But at that point it wouldn't have mattered anyway.  I was no longer worrying whether the top would be too short.  I was totally under his control and enjoying it. 

 DJ sprayed my hair with water again.  Then made some more finishing snips here and there.  And only then did he allow me to explore my new haircut in the mirror.

 The top, which was no more than 1/2 inch, neatly matched the contours of my head, smoothly laying in place and brushed somewhat forward.  The front, which was just slightly longer, was brushed a bit to the side, to the extent that it could be brushed at all.  The sides were mostly down to about 1/8 inch, tapered not quite as close toward the crown, but still no more than 1/4 inch at any point.

 I thought the haircut looked great.  And was it short!  Shorter than I had ever envisioned it.  Much shorter than I ever thought I would have the nerve to go.  Yet, DJ had taken me there, gently and carefully.  He had eased me into it.  And I was loving it!

 I was fascinated with the new style and how different it made me look.  "Will it lay down like this if I don't put any gel on it?" I asked.

 "I think so," said DJ. "Why don't you quickly wash it out and we'll see?"

 I went upstairs and took a quick shower and washed the gel out of what remained of my hair.  The sensations of washing my hair, or even having the water fall on it from the shower, were very different with my hair cut this close for the first time.

 I deliberated as to the appropriate garb, but threw on some clothes, including a new pair of undershorts (naturally, the old ones were rendered pretty useless by the process of getting the haircut).  I went downstairs so DJ could examine the results.  He started to comb it a bit and water started flying around.

 "Didn't you dry it?" he chuckled good naturedly.

 "Well, you didn't say to dry it.  You just said to wash it," I responded innocently.

 But DJ took care of my wet hair, drying it with a towel and brushing it.  My hair all fell right into place.  I looked again in the mirror and couldn't believe how he had transformed my appearance.  This was a dramatic change for me.  I commented to him that I thought I looked a lot more athletic and masculine with this haircut.  And DJ agreed.  He told me how great the haircut looked on me.

As I stood there, DJ ran his hands through my hair and stroked it gently.  His touch aroused me even more.  Yet, it also deepened my feeling of complete relaxation and contentment.

The Grand Finale

We moved to the couch.  DJ sat down, while I lay my head in his lap.  He massaged and stroked my head.  I began to get more and more aroused and felt my erection grow.  We talked some about the haircut.  I confided in him about what parts of it really turned me on.  And he told me what parts he liked best about doing the haircut.  I pulled my pants part way down and began to stroke my erect penis and balls. 

I commented to DJ, "But now that its so short, you have no more challenge left.  Did you ever think I'd go along with such a short haircut." 

"Well, it was a pleasant surprise.  But it could still be shorter," he responded.  "It isn't really that short a haircut."

"Well it is to me," I replied.  "Its shorter than I ever thought I would want it."

"Well, next time, I think it should be even a little shorter," DJ advised.

"I don't know, I think it looks really good like this," I replied.

"Well, but actually, I should have made it just a little shorter.  A real ivy league would have been a little shorter, about 1/8 of an inch shorter in front.  Yours is a little too long in front," DJ commented.

I thought about DJ's comment a moment.  I had the strong urge to please him at that moment, as he had pleased me through the haircut.  I offered the only sacrifice I could give him and he could accept. 

"Well, do you want to make it shorter?" I asked tentatively.

"I would like to make it a little shorter," DJ answered.  He paused.  Then he asked, "Do you mean now?"

"Well, I want you to be satisfied," I responded.  "If you tell me that you need to make it shorter, then I guess that's it, isn't it?"

"It really should be a little shorter," said DJ.

"Well, just tell me what I have to do," I answered.

"Why don't you go back in the chair and I'll fix it the way it really ought to be," DJ instructed.

I obliged.  I pulled up my pants and went back into the kitchen and sat down in DJ's chair again.  DJ put a towel around my neck.

First he clipped a little more in front with the scissors as he had said.  The hair that brushed to the side now simply ended at the hairline.  Then he trimmed ever so slightly more off the rest of the top as well.  Then he was done.  Now we were BOTH completely satisfied with the haircut. 

We returned to the couch.  I again lay my head in his lap.  I resumed stroking my penis and balls.  As I did, I replayed the haircut in my mind and DJ resumed massaging and stroking my hair.  Until finally, I felt my penis contract and then release, over and over, as the milky white cum squirted out. 

I lay there, enjoying the moment.  Yet, already thinking ahead and wondering when the next haircut would come.  And how short it would be.