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dungeon half shave He watched my hand slip into the bag and his eyes widened noticeably when I pulled my hand out and held up a razor. "What are you going to do with that?," he asked. "I'm going to make you a little smoother," I said. "But I don't want to be smooth," he said adamantly. "You'll grow to like it," I responded. "It's a lot cleaner look." "NO WAY, ASSHOLE," he shouted at me. "Well," I said calmly, "you shouldn't have agreed to let me tie you up then, should you?". My hairy young friend had agreed to a little bondage scene. He thought it would be erotic to be restrained in the wrist and leg irons that were secured to my basement wall. He willing let me lock him in. He gave a sexy moan when I grabbed his crotch and started to squeeze, tighter, harder, tugging him up by his balls. He made no objection when I ripped his cheap cotton tank top off of his torso. Nor did he mind when my pocketknife slit through his running shorts and they fell to the floor. "What? No jockstrap to cut-off," I said with mock disappointment. He grinned. Now I had him just as I wanted him: Bare ass naked--except for his sweat socks and running shoes--with his arms locked up above his head and his legs spread jumping jack distance apart. His hairy balls hung down loosely, one lower than the other. And his cock? By the looks of it, he seemed to be enjoying the experience--so far. His shaft stuck out, not quite horizontal. I bet his prick is the kind that will stand straight up, flat against his hairy belly, I thought to myself. Pencil dicks like his can do that. I didn't share this silent assessment with him. Anyway, I wasn't that much interested in his cock. It was all of his blonde body hair that fascinated me. It was dense and thick on his legs, all the way from his socks clear up to the top of his ass. Surprisingly, his pubes didn't form much of a bush (darn!). They just grew in a wide,low patch, connecting his hairy thighs to a very delicious looking treasure trail, the type that's narrow and distinct, bordered by smooth skin on either side all the way up to his belly button. His blonde hair trail continued straight north above his naval to the concave space between two well-defined pecs, covered--like his legs--in dense golden hair. What a specimen. And look as those pits! Hmmmm. More fur than many guys have on their crotch. And in his case, more fur than he has on his crotch. He seemed proud to stand there naked and let me check him out. God knows I was enjoying it. The sight of a gorgeously hairy nude guy, locked up tight against my basement wall. Tasty. Whistling a few bars of "Heaven, I'm in Heaven..." I reached into the bag by his feet. His pencil dick started to droop when he saw me holding the razor. I set it aside and reached back into the bag. Out came the shaving cream. Out came the electric clippers. "First things first," I said. I plugged the clippers into the outlet and flipped the switch. Nothing quite like the sound of electric clippers humming away, I thought to myself. The only other sound: my hairy friend swallowing his adam's apple. He made no other noise. What was the point? Calling me names wouldn't help--or dissuade me. He had no way to free himself until I had had my way and was ready to release him--freshly shorn--with all of his manly fur piled up around his Nikes. But, good man that I am, I decided to let him help decide his fate. I put it to him: "Would you like to be completely smooth," I asked? "Or should I stop halfway?". "Half," he pleaded. "Just half". I set to work, whistling again, this time that happy off-to-work tune made famous by the Seven Dwarfs. First, a pit stop. I buzzed the electric clippers through his right arm pit, removing all but a quarter inch of his pit hair. Then, a little shaving cream, a few careful strokes from the safety razor and bingo--one smooth pit. I picked up the clippers again and kneeled down. That move surprised him. "Wait a minute," he protested. "I thought we'd agreed on half. Aren't you going to stick to my top half?" "Nope," I answered. "I agreed to half and I get to chose the 50% that comes off. With that, whistling an aria from the Barber of Seville," I buzzed all that golden hair off of his muscular leg. His left leg. My there was a lot of it. This must be what New Zealand sheep herders feel like, I thought. More shaving cream, more careful strokes from the razor and there he stood: one smooth pit and one smooth leg--on opposite sides of his body. I told him how much more defined his calf and thigh looked without that furry cover up. "Don't you agree?," I asked. Glare. That's all he gave me. The ingrate. When I went back to work he started to get the idea of what I meant by removing just half of his body hair. The right hand side of his pubes: clipped and shaved. His left pec: clipped and shaved. His handsome treasure trail: the right side cleanly removed. The lower of his balls: silky smooth. I stood back to admire my work. As promised, 50% of his glorious blonde body hair lay at his feet. He looked, well, he looked slightly out-a-wack. Kind of funny actually. Definite side show freak material. I looked at him quizzically and wondered aloud: "Think anyone will notice in the gym shower?" "You deviant," he said. "Not happy with the new look?," I asked. "Well, you could go for the Olympic swim look, like me." "Like you?," he asked. "Yeah. I shave all over and if feels great in the pool...and on silk sheets. And, after all, it does grow back". My formerly completely furry friend looked down at his half hairy body. "Make me all smooth," he said. "Take it all off." Ah! Music to a dungeon barber's ears. I happily went back to work, whistling...but nothing in particular. [email protected] |
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