Unexpected Haircut (Part 4)

(To read part 1 click here)

On my laptop, I compare two photos, one of how I looked six months ago, just before I met Chris and one of me now. They look like different people. In the first I’m skinny in black boxers with hair down to my chin. The second photo, I’m in a jockstrap with a shaved head, thick biceps, abs and pectorals. If Chris would let me grow any hair, I could be on the cover of Men’s Health. Sometimes I wonder if I am a different person; chatting to blokes in the changing toom, spotting guys on the weights, putting this white Adidas t-shirt on after my workout, as if that’s just what I wear. 

The longest Chris has let me have my hair in the last six months was a few millimeters.  It was when I went to visit my family. They looked at me wide eyed. My mum wasn’t happy, and my dad was bemused. Chris wanted to shave it himself when I got back. He’s grown his hair out a bit and looks so hot with his undercut, the hair on top slicked back. I kind of want my hair like his. But he gets me to kneel on his bathroom floor, covers my head in shaving foam, and goes over it with a razor until it’s completely smooth.

“I know I say it every time,” he starts. “But you look so good bald. You should always keep it shaved.”

“Tommy has like a number one though." Tommy is one of his other subs who has a buzz-cut.

“Tommy doesn’t look as good as you do with no hair.” He strokes his hand over my hairless scalp.

Well there go my plans of having any hair.

Because of his personal trainer company Chris has keys to a couple of gyms. He took me to one late at night when no one was there and made me work out in a jock strap. 

“Come on, you can put a heavier weight on babe,” he says, watching me strain to lift he weights, my naked ass against the bench.

“How big do you want me to get?” I exclaim. 

I never thought I would have the amount of muscle I have now. Sometimes I feel like this walking talking sex object. Still, there are guys I talk to at the gym that are massive. In a couple years, is that going to be me?

“You could easily get a bit bigger,” Chris replies, passing me a 20kg weight.

When I’m finished with the weights, he tells me to turn over and hold onto the bar bell. He starts to play with my ass, there in the middle of the gym. My ass has got a bit more used to his cock and he’s able to put two fingers in straight away. Soon he’s fucking me, holding onto my sweating bald head and pushes his dick all the way in.

It’s a different feeling, being fucked as a skinny twink to being fucked as this muscly chav. The submission feels more extreme, moaning as I stick my ass out and he goes deeper and harder. My dick trying to break free of the chastity device. 

I’ve grown so much through his regime of chastity devices and supplements that we had to get new clothes. I didn’t know how I felt about no longer being an XS. I used to pride myself on being skinny twink. He took me to the sports shop and said I could choose anything I wanted. He’s pleased with most of my choices except for a black Adidas tracksuit.

“Black was your colour before you became my sub!”

“Tommy has a black tracksuit,” I remind him.

“Yeah but Tommy was dressed like a rainbow flag when I met him.” He gives me a playful push. “I don’t want all my subs to look the same. No black clothes for you.”

So, I go and choose this shiny white and grey tracksuit. I'm aware that the look he's given me is more extreme than the one he’s given Tommy.

I’ve got close to Tommy. It’s fun going out, being these two gay boys that look like beefy agro chavs. He pulls me into the middle of a dance floor in a gay club. He’s wearing a shiny nike top and his head is shaved, but he dances like some camp twink.

“I love it! They think I’m gonna start a fight, and then I dance like this,” he shouts, coloured lights flashing over his perfect body. “Then they don’t know what to think, and then they want to fuck me!”

I walk to Chris’ house, my biceps filling the sleeves of my white polo shirt. It’s a bit chilly, leaves starting to turn brown. I should’ve worn a tracksuit, but it’s six months since I started this transformation, and I want to look smart in case Chris takes me to a restaurant. Some people look at me like I’m hot, others move out of my way like I might punch them. Probably none of them would guess this hot bald guy has a butt plug in.

“You wanna, take it out?” I ask Chris, after he lets me in. 

“No.” He puts his arm around me and rubs my head. “We’re going out. I’m taking you for your six month transformation treat.”

Chris’s treats always worry and excite me at the same time. My dick pushes the chastity device against my smart grey trousers. Chris squeezes it. I suspect from his smile the treat isn’t a restaurant.

We stop at the door to a tattoo and piercing shop, and he gestures for me to go upstairs.

“This is Josh.” He shows me to the heavily tattooed guy behind the counter. They seem like they know each other. 

“You’re not my usual kind of nipple piercing customer,” the guy tells me on the way to the piercing room

“This is what he looked like six months ago.” Chris shows the tattoo guy a photo on his phone.

“Woah,” says the piercer, doing a double take from me to the photo. “I assumed you’d always been a beefy chav – no offence.”

“None taken,” I say.

I take off my top and he puts a clamp on my nipple. I let out a little moan as he pushes the needle through. 

The thing I love most about my new body is looking down at it as Chris fucks me. Watching his dick pounding the ass of this submissive muscular body. I put my hands behind my head and feel my smooth scalp as the movement of his cock builds up ecstasy inside me. I look at my nipples, slightly swollen with little bar bells through them. When Chris is about to cum, he puts a knee either side of me and tells me to open my mouth. Cum squirts across across my lips and tongue. He massages my dick a bit, the chastity device still on, but he decides to leave me horny. He likes to lay there stroking my bald head after sex.

“Shame it doesn’t stay smooth for long,” he says. “— What do you think about getting it lasered?”

“My head?” I ask, so horny I would agree to anything. “Like permanently?”

“Yeah, I mean, you won’t have the hassle of shaving it. And when you look this good bald – I don’t know why you’d want to have hair again.” He laughs. “I’ll pay of course. It takes a few treatments.”

I think about my head being completely shiny, free of stubble. I think about never being able to grow hair again. It seems pretty extreme. The nipple piercings felt permanent, but this is something else.

(Final part next weekend!)