An unexpected client

The man who entered the shop was definitely not one of the club’s employees - he did not fit into this area and a salon like this at all. He watched the man from head to toe. He was in his late thirties, wearing a hugely expensive dark blue suit, probably tailored, with matching shoes. His hair was longer, curly, jet black and loosely combed back. An enormously thick, full black beard adorned his face with large, bright blue eyes and thick but perfectly trimmed eyebrows. He was talking on the phone with a headset and looked annoyed and in a hurry. He waved his hand and the barber raised a brow. Was he talking to him?

“Yes, you, come here. No, not you, you idiot, I told you I had to freshen up before I could go to the appointment. When I get back to the office, you’ll be in for a treat! This hotel is an imposition and now I’m standing here in some little piss-shop because there’s nothing else! Yeah, so you take walk-ins? It doesn’t look like your shop is doing very well,” he said and the barber frowned.

“Yes, I do. Have a seat and I’ll be right with you!”

“And put that cigarette out, that’s disgusting!” the customer said and then sat down in the big red barber’s chair, still talking on the phone.

“No! We didn’t promise that, such nonsense. We bought this whole block to knock it down, we’re not getting flats there just because some stupid grannies don’t want to move anymore. Really, James, where do you always get these stupid ideas? And you - can you maybe get started?” The barber took one deep breath and exhaled, then turned to the customer with a smile. He had recognised the face. Girogio Livarno, a big investor who bought up properties all over the place, evicted the tenants and then had new, expensive condominiums built. An asshole in front of the Lord, who had dumped his last wife in a public mudslinging. How had he not recognised him immediately? Livarno Ltd. had also already bought some houses in the neighbourhood and there had been protests and demonstrations.

“What can I do for you?”

“Trim the beard to 12 mm and shave it out clean and, if you can manage that, wash and blow-dry the hair once, but if you can, do it today, I don’t really have any time!” “Of course, we can manage that. You like a clean look, I can understand that, you always want to be clean, neat and not have to worry about your appearance,” the barber said and put his cape on the customer.

“Is that necessary to wash the hair I …”, Livarno said and then fell silent. His mouth remained open and his eyes moved from side to side in panic.

“You know, little Giorgio, we don’t like people like you here. I don’t usually do this, but I think an exception is in order with you. Such a powerful man, perfect hair, the perfect beard …” He stroked the man’s thick full beard and felt him tremble slightly, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Close your mouth,” the barber said and Livarno folded his mouth shut.

Why couldn’t he move? What kind of freak was this? One of those leftist freeloaders who couldn’t stand to see their wizened neighbourhoods transformed into something better, something new? What did he want with him? Sure he wanted money, they always wanted money … But not with him! Whatever the guy had done to him to cripple him, he would never back down!

“Such a powerful man and yet so slight, so, so slight, really …subversve”, the barber purred in his ear. What nonsense! He was athletic, always had been! And his personal trainer made sure that even now he had a fantastic, muscular body. What was this guy thinking? He wasn’t really athletic himself! He began to sweat. What was this guy talking about. He tried to move but nothing happened. He heard a buzzing noise and was about to scream when he saw in the mirror that the barber had picked up a pair of hair clippers, their bare metal teeth glinting in the light. Unstoppably, the machines came closer to his face. Bastard! Bastard! Then the machine ate into his carefully groomed beard and let the hair trickle onto the cape. It didn’t take five minutes and the beard was history. But instead of his typical blue-black stubble, he looked … not. As if there had never been a beard there.

“It’s really time you stood up to your true self, isn’t it? You’ve played the boss long enough. Now it’s time you finally became the beta sub you’ve always been!” said the barber, stroking the bare skin on his face. Beta sub? What did that mean? What was the Master talking about anyway? The who? The Master? What had he given him? And how? Gas … poppers … yes the Master would surely give him poppers before … what the hell were poppers? And why did he think of the man as the Master … because he was an alpha, a real top and he was nothing more than a useless little hole, a toy for the Master.

… Damn! He tried to divert his thoughts to something else and did not notice until too late that the barber was applying the machine to his forehead and then pulling it through. Hair fell to the floor, the cape and into his lap. Inwardly he screamed, wanting to punch the guy in the face, to squat in front of him, to surrender to him completely, to feel him inside him, to let him do everything the master asked of him.

“That’s much better, a beta-sub isn’t a handsome man, he’s an object of lust, a hairless, latex-wearing object, a eunuch with a cock so small it’s almost invisible. A beta-sub doesn’t need muscles!” the barber said, stroking his chest. The sensation was strange, burning, pulling, demanding. Then, as the barber stepped back, he saw the bald head. No hair on his head. No shadow suggested hair. Only shiny skin, brilliant white in contrast to his tanned face and body. But this natural tan seemed to be fading …

“You have the special honour of watching, my little one. You shall see what happens to you …”, the barber said and then pulled away the barber’s cape. Gior… Giorg … damn, what was his name??? Stared at what he saw. No expensive suit covered his body, but nothing. His thick chest hair was gone, as was the hair on his stomach, legs or arms. Nothing but bare skin that was getting lighter by the second. His body itself became thinner, his muscles literally melted away until there was nothing left. He was white, scrawny, completely hairless aHe howled inside, screamed, shouted and wanted to sink to his knees, give himself to his Master, submit … He saw his eyebrows fall out and then his eyelashes. Not a hair on his body. “You’d better slip into your latex suit like this!” the barber said, stroking his bald head. Then he kissed him and he felt something inside him break. He could move his tongue, became greedier and greedier, wanted to surrender, to give himself completely to the man. Girgio saw his old personality leaking out of his skull as if through a hole. He tried everything to cling to it, to remember he was who. What he was … but when the Master touched his nipples, in which all of a sudden powerful piercings dangled, it was over. Giorgio was gone and all that remained was a beta-sub, a slave of the lowest level, always ready to do whatever was asked of him …