For the last six months I’ve been shaving my head bald,
working out and wearing sports clothes. All because of this guy called Chris I
met on Grindr. After he fucked me the other night, he said he wanted me to get
my head lasered, permanently bald. I just laid there, not knowing what
to say as he stroked my shaved head.
I flash back to a conversation we were having when he took
me out to a wine bar. He made me wear a tight light-blue shirt that clung to my
muscles. I couldn’t stop looking at myself in the mirror behind the bar, smoothing
my hand over my bald head.
“How come you know so much about wine?” Chris asked.
“I used to work at this outdoor opera tent in the summer,” I
tell him. “I took a lot of very expensive half-finished wines home with me.”
“Well, what should we get next then?” He hands me the menu.
“Hmmm I like something red with a lot of tanins …”
When I was tipsy I leant my head into him and felt the
fabric of his shirt sleeve on my shaved bald scalp.
I thought maybe there was something more there. More than
him living out his fetish, changing this skinny emo boy into this bald muscled
sex object. But I think asking me to remove all my hair shows that he only really
cares about transforming me.
My reaction is to not shave my head for a couple of days and
get completely pissed on £4 white wine. I drunkenly look at my wardrobe full of
sports clothes. I wonder if I should go out in the blue shirt or borrow some
of my housemate’s emo clothes. Everything I wear is from Chris, even my body and
my haircut. In the end I just say fuck it and put on my usual chav attire, a shiny white
and grey addidas tracksuit.
The bouncer at the gay bar seems wary about letting me in. I sit at the bar drinking a pint of cider. Some cute guys
mostly dressed in black, one wearing a crop top, glance over at me awkwardly. A
cocky guy with bleached hair sitting next to me says,
“Don’t see many guys like you in here.”
“I see myself in here lots.” I slur.
He’s the kind of person, that used to be out of my league. He’s probably turned on thinking I’m a real chav. He makes a little gesture
with his head over to the toilets.
Making out with him, I rub my hand through his bleached
hair. I’d kind of forgotten what hair feels like. I unzip my tracksuit top.
“Great body,” he says, feeling my muscles. He pulls his t-shirt
off, kind of nervous and goes down like he’s about to suck my dick.
My dick is still
locked inside the chastity device. I push him back up and to his suprise, get on my knees and unbutton his jeans. I suck his dick like I’m desperate, my cock filling it's little cage.
I grab the lump in my trackies and force his dick back into my throat. He holds onto my shaved head and lets out a moan.
Then I’m on this busy dance floor, tracksuit tied around my
waist, silver necklace on, banging into people. Everything is a mess of coloured lights. Some guy rubs his hand over my
body. I accidentally knock someone’s drink out of their hand. They see what I
look like and decide not to argue. Then I recognise Tommy's buzzed black hair. He's dancing topless the lights
flashing over his body. I stumble over and sort of fall onto
him.
“Woah!” He exclaims, then recognises me and wraps me in a
sweaty naked hug. He rubs his hand over my two days of stubble. “You didn’t
shave your head.”
“I’m pissed off,” I roll my eyes.
“Wanna talk?” He offers me a cigarette, his manner half
rude-boy, half gay-boy.
We sit on a doorstep in our tracksuit tops, the music
muffled.
“— It seems like it’s only about the transformation for
him.” I take a last drag on the cigarette and flick it into a drain. “I want it to be more than that.”
“I think there was a time when I wanted it to be more than that. But —” Tommy taps ash onto the pavement. “I’m happy with what it is. Being his sub helped me realise
part of myself. If it ended tomorrow …” He shrugs.
“You wouldn’t miss him?”
“I’d miss his dick. I’d miss him buying me cute chav clothes.
I’d miss the free gym pass. But there’s other things I want to do. Can you
imagine being his sub forever?”
I give Tommy a look that says maybe I can.
“You might’ve noticed he has kind of a fast turnover of
boys.” Tommy raises his pierced eyebrow.
“What would you do about this–” I gesture drunkenly at Tommy’s tracksuit and shaved head. “– If it ended with Chris?”
“I think I’d ask him for a few hundred pounds, and I’d go to
the shopping centre, and decide who I want to be next.” He smiles at the idea,
stubbing his cigarette out on the wall.
In that moment I see him as both this submissive chav
boy and this chameleon shapeshifter. I grab him and kiss him. The same way he
kissed me on Chris’ sofa, biting his lips, rubbing my hand over his buzzed hair.
Then we’re on the dancefloor. People staring at these two
chavs with shaved heads dancing wild. Then we’re screaming
in the street on the way home. Then I’m falling onto the floor in his hallway.
“Shhh, my housemates,” Tommy says.
I lay there, rubbing my velcro like hair and
say, “I do enjoy looking like this.”
“I enjoy you looking like that too,” he says. He gets on the floor too,
one knee either side of me and pulls down my trackies. In all the excitement I’d forgot about my caged dick. He get’s it in his mouth, chastity device and
all, and sucks it. My dick presses even tighter against the walls of the cage. Tommy
looks up and says, “I think I’ve got a hacksaw somewhere.”
It’s scary having this drunk chav so close to my penis
with a saw. As soon as the chastity device clatters on the floor, he gets back
to sucking my cock. He pushes me against his chest of draws, which is covered in a strange collection of
sports clothes and manga books. I’m so horny and he sucks my cock so well, I almost cum.
“Wanna fuck me?” I gasp.
“Fuck me first,” he says, pulling down his
trackies. He pushes all the pens and paper off his cluttered desktop and lays back on there. I enjoy pretending to be the dom, squeezing his pierced nipples, fucking him deeper and harder . I love watching him with his cute masculine apperance, being so submissive,
legs spread, my dick inside him.
“I wanna fuck you now,” Tommy moans.
He pushes me onto his bed, lifts my ass up and forces
his cock in. He holds my waist to help him ram his
cock deeper. There’s something beyond words about both looking so masculine yet
being so submissive. I grab at my chest and abdomen to try and contain the
feeling of ectstacy building inside me. He leans his head back squirting cum inside me. I only have to rub
my cock a few times before cum squirts across my stomach.
We make and talk until light outside turns blue. Then I spoon him, feeling the contor of his abdomen, the
stubble of his shaved head against my lips.
“I feel like we’re real life shapeshifters,” I whisper.
“We are,” he whispers back.
So, here’s the happy ending. The scene where we go off into
the sunset. It’s late morning, I’m sitting on a stool wearing Tommy’s black
shiny adidas shorts. He’s wearing my white tracksuit bottoms. He shaves the
last bit of foam and stubble off my head, then rubs a towel over my bald
scalp. It amazes me, I’m still shaving
my head bald, not to send a photo to Chris, but because I like the feel and the look. Tommy rubs
his hand over my hairless scalp and smiles.
“You do look really good bald!”
