Tom, Thomas or Todd - something like that

he doorbell of the shop rang. Only reluctantly did the barber let go of his last customer, who was lying on the floor breathing heavily in and out. A perfect Scally, he would be the star in the bar, he was sure. He looked at his watch as he walked to the door. Ah, that must be the second new employee, Todd or Thomas, something like that. He frowned. The guy didn’t actually look like his old friend had described him. Wasn’t the second customer that day supposed to be one of the new bouncers? The man who had now entered his salon and was looking around impatiently was something between his late 20s and early 30s, Caucasian with fair skin and golden-blond hair that covered his head like a helmet, a businessman’s cut that was clearly too long. Clean-shaven, fleshy lips, bright blue eyes. By classic standards probably a very handsome, slim man, but so not his type. But it had to be Todd, his friend had been very precise. Three customers that day, a scally for the bar, a new bouncer and girl for everything. This Todd-Thomas was supposed to be blond, that’s what he had said, but the third customer was a redhead. Well, had to be the bouncer then. That was a real challenge for his talents. He cracked his knuckles and then put on his best smile. “Welcome! What can I do for you?”

Stupid new job in a stupid new bank with a stupid new boss! Tom’s first day at work had been a real disaster. Fresh out of university, he had thought he would be assigned to important tasks. But now he was supposed to take over the service at the customer counter for a month. You have to get to know all the departments,’ his stupid boss had said. And for that he would have to have a ‘proper haircut’! Ha! He had done internships in big international banks, no one had ever found fault with his hairstyle! He wore fucking suits from Armani and Boss, for Christ’s sake! And his hair was just the way he wanted it. Nevertheless, he had set off for this hairdresser that the boss had recommended to him. It had to be this shop, although he was really a bit surprised. He had said right, left and then straight ahead, hadn’t he? No, left, right … and … nonsense. Here was a barbershop, even if it clearly looked too much like a barbershop to him and not like his usual beauty salons. He sighed and walked into the empty shop where there was a strange, almost cloying smell in the air. Apparently no one was there. He looked briefly at his mobile phone, quarter past five. He was about to call when a guy in a white tunic came out of a room. Had someone been moaning in there? Nonsense, it was probably just the radio or something. The barber didn’t look like his usual hairdresser. Short-shaven hair, muscular, earrings. He had a bit of a Thug about him. “Welcome! What can I do for you?” “My boss sent me. He says that I have to have a ‘proper haircut’ in direct customer contact and that you would know best what that means in his eyes.” “Oh, yes, I’ve known him for half an eternity and worked with him for over ten years, Mr. ?” “Tell Tom” “Tom! He relies entirely on my special skills. Why don’t you take a seat already!” The barber pointed to one of the large, heavy chrome and red leather barber chairs. He almost got weak in the knees as he walked towards the chair and then sat down.

The barber lit a cigarette and offered him one too, but he declined with an appropriate expression on his face. That was pretty disgusting! The man’s fingers would surely stink of smoke. Really! But before he could say anything, the barber had already put a black cloak over him and then, cigarette in the corner of his mouth, began to fasten the white paper collar. The smoke bit into his eyes and he coughed demonstratively. “Oh, sorry!” said the barber, grinning and turning the barber’s chair round to face him. “Well, my friend, let’s get to work, shall we?” he said, pulling a comb from a pocket. “You don’t even ask what I want! And why did you turn the chair round?” “You said it yourself, boy, I know the boss well and I know exactly what he expects of me. And it’s much more interesting that way, isn’t it, big boy? You really have nothing to worry about!” He clutched the armrest. “But it won’t be bald or anything!” said and the barber laughed. “Where did you get that idea? No, definitely not bald, no buzzcut, so you can relax. Your neck is all tense, no wonder with those muscles!” the barber said and stepped behind him. He massaged Tom’s neck and he almost groaned. But muscles? Well, he was slim, but certainly not muscular, such nonsense. “Yes, relax, that’s better. You really need to go for a massage now and then after training, it’s important with such strong muscles!” the barber whispered in Tom’s ear and he could smell the smoke. Repulsive. And why was the guy fingering him, did he think he was gay or what? He would have liked to just jump up and storm out of the shop. But then what? The boss had been very clear and if he lost his job … no, don’t think about it. Just the thought of his mother’s face, who had not agreed with his move … So he closed his eyes and hoped that the barber would soon finally start his actual work.

“Let’s have a go then, shall we?” he said then, grabbing a spray bottle and moistening Tom’s hair before he began to comb it slowly and very thoroughly. Tom felt a strange tingling sensation on his scalp that slowly spread down his back. Relaxation and excitement at the same time, what a strange feeling. “Such a nice neck, you really have to show it off. Yes, a fresh, neat hairstyle will make you look even taller and stronger, I’m sure. You think so too, don’t you?” “Yeah, sure … bigger,” Tom said, suddenly having trouble keeping his eyes open. He felt the barber lift strands of his hair with the comb and then cut them off. Obviously much more than he had expected, but … he wanted to say something … to protest, but he only moaned softly as the barber stroked his chest quite accidentally. What was wrong with him … his nipple had felt like … like … an erogenous zone. He felt himself getting a hard one … Oh man, from a man? That had to be all the stress that was just falling off him now. The barber had probably been right, he was very tense …

“Yes, such a prominent back of the head, you shouldn’t hide it, even though it will of course be a bit of work to thread this beard properly …”, said the barber. Obviously the guy was a bit crazy … what kind of beard? He only had to shave once a week at the most, and that was more out of routine than compulsion. What other people called a three-day beard took him at least a year … “Really, a doozy and with the new hairstyle it will look even better. You don’t know where the beard ends and the chest fur begins, you little bear you!” the barber breathed into his ear and his hand went under the cape, felt Tom’s nipple and pinched it a little. He groaned and squirmed in the chair. The man turned him on and instead of running away, he hoped he wouldn’t stop. “Ah, back to work. But first I’ll get something, just a minute!” Tom seemed to awaken briefly from his strange stupor. What was this guy babbling about. Oh ha, the hair on the cape and the floor was clearly too long, what had the guy been doing? But before he could turn to the mirror to survey the damage, the barber was back, ramming a lit cigar into his mouth. “Hey!”, he tried to protest, but instead he pulled on the cigar and felt every muscle in his body relax. Wasn’t bad at all … The guys at university had smoked cigars sometimes … now he could kind of understand why. His brain swam in a warm, pinkish cloud. Something hummed at his ear, like a little lawnmower. “Yes, it must be perfect, quite perfect, and of course it hides the hair loss. You’ve got quite a tonsure there, big guy, but no wonder. You seem to be sweating testosterone, bear!” Tonsure, funny … no one in his family suffered from hair loss. Grinning, he took a drag on his cigar, the barber really was a brand. The nonsense he talked …

“Now hold very still!” said the barber and he just grunted with satisfaction. He didn’t want to move an inch. This relaxation was just great … Something was humming over his head, sending waves of relaxation through his brain, through his whole body. Whatever the barber was doing, he had best never stop. He slid in the chair for a moment and it suddenly creaked. And felt somehow tight. “Oh yes, the chair is certainly a bit tight for a customer with your figure. Those tits are almost as impressive as that bear belly, hahah!”, the barber said and Tom just grinned and took another drag on his cigar. He’d buy himself a box sometime if it had that kind of effect. It wasn’t like he was going to become a smoker because of it or anything. It was pleasure, relaxation … although, actually, it wasn’t a look for a man like him. It was more suited to big bears … bears. What a funny expression. He had picked it up somewhere. Muscular, strong men with bellies and body hair like fur, with beards and leather bracelets around their mighty biceps. Involuntarily, a hand slipped to his crotch and he felt his best friend come to life. “Yes, such a fat, thick thing, really, you are to be envied!” the barber said and then suddenly put a hot towel around his head, took the cigar out of his mouth and then put another one on his face.

Instead of feeling caught, he just grinned. He didn’t have a tiny penis, but rather an average one, size M, I guess you could say. He was a grower, no question, but no one had ever described his penis as ‘mighty and fat’. The towel around his head was removed, but the one on his face remained where it was. With his eyes closed he felt something on his head, a slight scratching, scraping, pulling. He felt like his balls were suddenly getting in the way somehow and he slid slightly back and forth in the chair. He missed the cigar … Was the chair getting tighter somehow? And why did his clothes feel so tight and somehow …strange. There was also a smell in the towel, something he knew. Somehow… masculine. Leather? Yes, it definitely smelled like leather … He had never really liked the smell before, but now he almost absorbed it. Leather bears. Ha … Kind of ridiculous, these guys, with their hairy muscle bellies and thick arms, pressed into skin-tight leather … these gays, really … Although, one had to admit that it was already a very masculine look, hypermasculine, you could say …

“Yes, there, now it looks good. Fresh and clean and you can’t see the tonsure at all. Besides, those horny, fat earrings look much better this way!” said the barber. “Just a few more little things and you’re as good as done!” he then said, removing the towel and for a moment Tom had a strange feeling, he couldn’t put it into words. He opened his mouth to say something, but the barber was already putting a fresh cigar in his mouth. He closed his eyes and fell back into that almost trance-like state of relaxation. Only the fact that the barber’s chair seemed to be getting narrower and narrower distracted him a little. Then, all of a sudden, the barber removed the cape and turned the chair around, apparently with some difficulty. “Take a look, then, big boy!” he said. Tom grinned and opened his eyes. Then he blinked. And again. “What … what the hell … I …” “Perfect, isn’t it? That’s exactly how the boss wanted you and I think I really brought out the best!” Tom stared at his reflection. He felt like he was paralysed. In a film he would probably be jumping up and shouting about now, but for the first time in his life he knew what it meant to simply not be able to move in fright. That couldn’t be him looking back at him from the mirror, how could that be possible? It wasn’t the slim, blond young man with slightly too long hair and an expensive suit sitting there. Instead, a veritable monster was staring at him from the mirror. Instead of his 76 kg, this man had at least 150, maybe even 200 kg. A mighty belly that was so hairy that it looked like a black, curly coat. Above that, a chest made up of gigantic muscles and fat, pierced with thick, silver rings and just as hairy as his belly. This was plain to see as he wore only a leather harness, which seemed almost to burst at the powerful figure. His shoulders were at least twice as broad as before and his arms, God those arms! He had never seen arms so powerful, hairy and … gigantic. Muscles covered with fat, real bear muscles, it flashed through his mind. And on those shoulders sat a head that couldn’t be his. Never! He had a full black beard, as thick as he had ever seen it, perfectly shaped and so long that it reached almost to his nipples. And like his beard, his hair was black - or what was left of it. Instead of his blond mane, he wore an ultra-short black crew cut, the sides and back of his head shaved smooth as mirrors, as he explored with trembling hands. And when he bent his head forward, he saw that a large part of an upper head was also shaved bald. Like a runway, in the middle of his head.

“What … have you done to me?” he asked quietly. “Released your inner bear, my friend. And look, your not so little friend obviously finds it very appealing.” Tom glanced between one leg and gasped. The thing was at least twice as long as before and pressed against the skin-tight leather trousers he was wearing. “I’m not …” “Gay? Oh, but sure you are. And I think my guest waiting in the back will enjoy introducing you to the world of homosexuality. Why don’t you go in the back and see what nice things I have wrapped in latex for you?” Why did he stand up? Why did he obey? He should scream, he should run away. Instead he obeyed and felt himself getting even harder. A gift in latex? Why did that sound so damn tempting?

He looked after him with a grin and lit a cigarette. Another customer would be coming out of the bar today, and the boss had really thought up something special for him. But suddenly the doorbell rang. That was much too early! Who could that be?