Post

My Husband'S Erotic, forced Haircut.....

Sharing my secret hair fetish with my husband had been such a wonderful experience. Gone were the days of trying to come along with him "casually" when he got a haircut, pretending that I had errands to run too, and saying we could just multi task, and how I could just "wait" for him and read a magazine, (as if I would be put out.) Then trying not to show too much interest, as a cape got draped over him and the clippers went to work. Back then I was always so embarrassed by the pull I would feel down below, the wetness that would soon follow while watching him in the chair, seeing his reaction to the clippers or watching him close his eyes, totally relaxed, as the barber would lather hot cream on his neck and shave him with a straight razor. I felt so dirty and weird being so excited, but I couldn't help myself from trying to come along whenever I could to get treated to my own little private turn on, unbeknownst to all involved.
Then one day I found a hair fetish site. There were many people just like me, all with this same odd turn on, and many with similar childhood experiences leading up to it. I felt like I wasn't so crazy. I even saw that some of the people on the site had shared their fetish with their spouse, some even working on their own partner. I too had cut my husband's hair over the years, only he never knew my excitement, or never figured out why we always made love afterwards. What if I shared this with him? What if he didn't think I was weird, and I could be open and never have to make excuses to come with him when he got his haircut ever again? I finally got up the nerve. The result was so freeing. While he did not completely understand, or share my odd fetish, he was intrigued by it and glad to know that I had this secret turn on. In fact he said it excited him a little knowing that I was so aroused by watching him in such a normal act. I started coming a long with him to every haircut he got, he would look at me knowingly as he was tended too, and sometimes I would discreetly take pictures. He even said that sometimes he would get hard while he was in the chair, and was grateful for the cape hiding the evidence of his excitement. He said it excited him knowing how turned on I was getting. He knew the extent of it, because on the car ride home I would be treated to his hand, searching out the result of my excitement, and finding my panties so absolutely soaked. This always made him smile at me, with that sexy, knowing glance and most of the time, as we rode home, his fingers would go to work, taking my excitement to the next level, my legs stretched out intensely on the dashboard as an eruption would shake me, making me yell out in extreme pleasure. We did this a lot, and I always looked forward to our Friday night hair play every four weeks, knowing what a treat I would be in for. It went on like this for quite some time, and it always made me so excited to be so open, but as time went on, I craved something more. An idea started to creep into my head.....
Having always been interested in sexual dominance, and having experienced that with my husband as well over the years, I had browsed online looking up places where men could go and be treated to humiliating acts by a professional dominatrix. We had played with the idea of him going to one and being punished, while I watched, but we had never actually gone through with it. In my online search, however, I did remember finding a woman, not too far from my home, who owned a place with various rooms and different scenarios that could be enacted by either herself, or her three "associates." On her website was a question, "What is your dominance fantasy? Come make it a reality." On the bottom of the page it said, "Voyeurs welcome" for an extra charge. Then there was an email contact on the bottom, no telephone number. Going back to this website, I browsed around some more, an idea creeping into my head.Getting the nerve up to enquire, I clicked on the email and began my message. "Looking for dominatrix to give my husband a forced haircut, tied up to a chair while I watch." Then I sent it and waited for a response. The next day I eagerly checked my inbox after work, searching through all my junk mail, looking for the return email from "Mistress Madeline." Spotting her name in my inbox, I eagerly clicked on the message, and was elated at the response I received. "While this is a request we have never had, it just so happens that my associate Stacey, owns her own barber salon where she works during the week, and could be the one to make this happen for you. Not having a room that is set up for this scenario, we could either use a wooden chair, or for an extra charge, my associate would be willing to have one brought in from her shop. If you are interested we can work out an arrangement, here is my contact number." Was I lucky or what? This couldn't be more perfect. Without hesitation, I called the contact number, and waited until a woman's voice said, "hello." Identifying myself as the woman with the "strange" request, she chuckled and said that nothing was too weird or would surprise her. I told her the details of my fantasy, and asked if her associate was available the Saturday after next. She informed me that she was in fact available that night, and we worked out a time and before I knew what was happening I was giving her my credit card number to hold the slot for the following weekend. I was then given directions to her establishment, and told "we will see you and your husband next week. Take care." That's when it hit me, my husband! I had set this all up without even speaking to him about it. Knowing that he would probably participate willingly, I still felt a little guilty doing this without having yet spoken to him. I couldn't wait until he got home that night, I paced and cleaned restlessly, then scrambled to get dinner ready for when he walked through the door. As he came in at his usual time, he slung his coat over the back of a chair and sat down to dinner, already on the table, with two glasses of wine and a couple tiered candles. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at the candles, wine and my attire, (a black negligee and silk robe,) and then sat down with a sly smile. After a glass or two of wine I finally got the nerve to tell my husband of my plan. He listened intently, seeming a little unsure, but realizing my excitement and with giving it more thought on the possibility of his own, my husband finally agreed to my odd plan. As we finished the last of our dinner, I picked up my glass of wine, made my way over to his end of the table, taking his hand, leading him to the bedroom to show him just how grateful and extremely turned on I was. Needless to say, we made some very passionate love that night....visions of what was to come playing out in my head.
The week and a half that followed that night, seemed to go on forever. I could think of nothing else day or night, than the fantasy that was soon to become a reality. Days seemed to go so slowly, when finally, low and behold, that Saturday evening finally arrived. I picked out my husband's outfit that night, my favorite fitted t-shirt, black jeans and high top Nikes, (I always had a thing for these Converse style, white Nikes with the black Nike logo on the side...no clue why...but I wanted to see them in the foot rest of the barber's chair while he was given his haircut.) My husband dressed obediently, and I too got dressed, in a a very sexy low cut blouse and black mini skirt, with my black thigh high boots. My husband loved this outfit on me, especially the boots. He smiled at me as we made our way out of the house, and he patted me on the bottom appreciatively as we walked to the car. I moved his hand aside, teasingly, murmuring, "not yet." He just grinned at me as we drove off to our destination, anticipation mixed with a little nervousness. For the ride, I popped open a couple of vodka nips, trying to relax my nerves. I offered one to my husband, and he swallowed it down eagerly. I could tell he was nervous. Then we drove along in silence, me with my arm over his shoulder as he drove, casually playing with is hair. It had been five weeks since his last haircut, and it had been a modest one. It was Winter and he had decided to keep it a little longer, much to my chagrin. As I played with the wisps of hair waving slightly over his collar, I thought to myself, "this won't be here much longer." I was going to be in total control of this haircut, and even he didn't know exactly what I was going to request the barberette to give him. The anticipation was electric....
Twenty five minutes later, we were pulling up to our destination, a very understated and discreet old mill building, that had been converted into businesses. Right next to a "smoke shop" there was a door to the left, no marking or business sign, just a discreet symbol above the door, (which I had been told to look for.) Knowing we were at the right place, we entered nervously, and went up a few flights of dimly lit stairs to a another unmarked door that had an intercom system on the outside. We hit the buzzer, and a polite female voice answered, we then gave them our name and reservation number, and the buzzer sounded and we walked through the door, into a dimly lit reception room, where a tall blond in a black robe took our coats, and showed me and my husband to a set of chairs in the corner. We sat there nervously for a while, sipping from a cup of water we had been offered, I took my hubby's hand, starting to relax from the affects of the shots of liquor I had done in the car before coming into the building. My husband however, seemed a little ill at ease, and I rubbed his leg reassuringly, trying to relax his nerves. It wasn't much longer before the same tall blond came for us and brought us down a long corridor, to a room at the end of a hall, ushering us inside as she smiled and walked away. Inside were deep red walls, hardwood floors, cabinets off to the side, restraints on the wall at the very back of the room, and right smack in the middle of it all was a red leather barber's chair, with metal foot rest, and red leather head rest. On the table next to the chair was an assortment of barber tools, clippers, straight razor, scissor, and stuff of the like, and folded over the back of the chair was a white striped barber's cape. The sight of all this gave me that familiar pull, but as we sat, I could feel my husband's restless nerves making him fuss and squirm in one of the two waiting chairs we sat in against the other far wall facing the barber's chair. I took his hand reassuringly, and he breathed in a deep breath and tried to smile at me, as if this was a normal situation for us to be in. Funny enough, as bad as I felt about it, his nervousness only turned me on more. Still, I kept rubbing the inside of his leg, until the door next to us finally opened up, and a tall woman, with long jet black hair, and a similar black robe like blond's, sauntered in. She had knee high black boots, and as they clicked when she walked in, she made her way to the barber's chair, sliding off her robe and tossing it onto the floor. Underneath the robe, was a tight leather get up, her large breasts almost protruding at the top, and laces cinching all the way up the back, squeezing her thin frame, and fish net stockings visible on the part of her thighs not covered by the black leather boots. Turning toward us, she picked up the cape from the back of the chair, and looking at my husband she motioned to him with her finger to come forward, then pointed to the chair behind her. Nervously my husband arose, glancing over at me as he did, his expression like, "what the hell did you get us into?," as he made his way over to the chair. "Have a seat," the woman said in a very husky voice, and my husband obeyed, sitting down in the chair, looking at me for reassurance. Then the woman bent down to a large trunk on the floor not too far from the chair, and pulled out some leather restraints. My husband eyed them, with the same nervousness he had been exhibiting since we had entered the building, but remained still and looked straight ahead as Mistress Stacey fastened the leather straps around both of his arms, securing them to the arms of the barber's chair so tightly there was no chance of him ever wiggling out. She then knelt down in front of the chair and fastened his legs to the back of the foot rest, securing them in place. My husband just continued to stare straight ahead, as Mistress Stacey then took a white neck ***** from the table beside the chair and wrapped it around his neck tightly, overlapping it and tucking it in securely at the back of his neck. She then took the white striped cape that was draped over her arm, and snapping it into the air, she brought it around my husband's neck, and snapped it snuggly in the back. Then she stepped back to prepare her tools. My husband just continued to look ahead, squirming uncomfortably in the chair a little, in a display of nerves, looking at me and then looking away, not quite sure where to keep his eyes. The site of him sitting there, caped and helpless was almost too much for me, almost with out even touching myself, I could feel the pre-orgasmic sensation down below. I knew I had just to touch myself ever so slightly, and I would explode. As had been discussed on the phone, I had some control myself in the instruction of what haircut he was to get. Turning to me, Mistress Stacey asked, "how would you like your husband's hair to be cut?" Smiling slyly, getting to enact this little part of the scene I had played over and over in my head, I said to her, "I would like you to give him a skin fade. I want it cut verrrrry short. I want to see the back shaved." My husband looked at me a bit wide eyed...we had never discussed going THAT short, he had figured on a haircut on a two guard, the shortest he was ever willing to go at the barber shop while getting his haircut in the summer. He was fond of taking care of his appearance, liked to look good, and dressed well.....so he was always one to have more care in the direction of his appearance. Even getting a haircut in a scenario like this one, was nerve wracking to him, but my excitement over it and the assurance that I wouldn't let them take it any lower than a two guard, had gotten him more comfortable with the idea. I felt bad I was breaking his trust, but I knew this would be the first and last time I would have this much control, and having always wanted him to get a very close fade, the opportunity was much too tempting, and worth breaking his trust. Mistress Stacey nodded towards me, and said, "very well." My husband moved his head to the side as she picked up the clippers, and looked at me imploringly. "Babe?," he said questioningly, pulling at the restraints to no avail, staring at me wide eyed waiting for me to redirect her. I just looked at him and quietly whispered, "relax." Mistress Stacey then took over, turning his head to face her by cupping his chin, she then asked, "do I need to stuff your mouth? Because if you are not quiet and do not cooperate, I will. Your wife has spoken. Be quiet. Do you understand?" My husband quietly said, "yes," and at her insistence was forced to repeat that with a, "yes Mam. I'm sorry." "That's a good boy, now behave and stay very still," Mistress Stacey told him, and as my husband stilled and stared straight ahead, resigning himself to the situation, the sound of the clippers popping on filled the room. This was it, it was going to begin. I could feel myself getting wetter by the second. The haircut was about to start....
My husband looked straight ahead at the wall behind me, I could tell he was mad, and I felt slightly bad, although not enough to stop the whole process. Mistress Stacey had a two guard on the clippers, and they came to just above my husband's head, before she brought them down and started to run them over the top of his head. Assuming before we had arrived, that he was only going to have a two guard touch the sides and back, not the top, he looked a little mortified as large locks of hair came down and fell onto the cape below, some resting there and some sliding feather like across the hardwood floor. He just sat rigid, as the clippers gnarled loudly through large hanks of his hair, removing all of the length from his top, before making their way down to the sides and back of his head. She kept going over his head with the two guard, and smaller hairs reined down over his face, and down his neck, forcing him to close his eyes to avoid getting the smaller hair clippings in them. Then she was done with the two guard, and she momentarily turned off the clippers to remove the guard completely and to dust the hair from my husband's face with a neck brush. He then opened his eyes, and I saw him gaze down at all the hair gathered on the cape below him. He tried not to show too much expression out of pride, but I could tell he was shocked seeing all of his hair resting on the white cape in front of him. Then the clippers popped back on, this time with no guard at all. My husband looked stoic, as Mistress Stacey forced his head forward, chin against the cape, as she brought the clippers up the back of his head, shaving it bald until about three quarters of the way up his head, where she started to fade the rest of his hair up to the top of his head. She continued doing this all the way around, taking off the hair above his ears, shaving the sides clean til about half way up where the fade line began. My husband's expression began to change, from one of mortification, to a more relaxed look of what I would almost say was pleasure, as the bare clippers worked around the back of his head and neck. He had always been sensitive to my touch there, it always felt good to him when I rubbed him there, however lower down on his neck was a little more than sensitive to touch, it was one of two places that were ticklish on him, that and his feet. I had often spotted him squirming in the chair at the barber shop he frequented, when the neck trimmer would be used to clean up his neck. It was a look of concentration that said, "get this over with." One time, the female barber cutting his hair, had made a joke about him being sensitive, much to his embarrassment. I had always thought it was cute, but he always got a little red in the face by his reaction. So I imagine that, although he was probably unsure of where this haircut was going and whether he would like it, the buzz of the bare clippers against his head was starting to relax him a little bit. He had already resigned himself to the fact that it was going to be very short, perhaps he was just relaxing into it and enjoying the buzz. As if this was possible, it made me even wetter. My hand started to work it's way down. I saw my husband eying me with interest as I did this, and I could only imagine the the erection that was now hidden underneath the barber's cape. Mistress Stacey continued fading my husband's hair very closely, in that expert skill that only barber's know how to do. She had turned him to the side so I could see her work from the back, and I was thrilled at the sight of all that skin. The skin there was lighter than the rest of his head, usually untouched by sunlight, and I could see that hard male bump protruding from the back of his skull. The look was so masculine, and I loved it. He had such a nice shape to his head, it looked so good having so much of it exposed. My finger lightly touched over my ****, as my hand had now entered into my soaked panties, the feeling was so erotic, but I didn't want to come just yet. I heard the clippers pop off, and saw my husband swiveled back in the chair to face me. I saw him eying my hand under my skirt, as Mistress Stacey turned to the table, putting down the large clipper and picking up a smaller one, that I knew would be used to clean up his neck. The sound of this one, as it was turned on, was so much louder than the hum of the clippers, it's loud buzzing sound filling the room. My husband, knowing what was coming, stiffened, as the clippers came near. He looked down, as they touched the back of his neck, making him jump when they made contact, a little smile crossing his lips. With his already heightened senses, I could tell it felt ticklish. "Stay still," Mistress Stacey commanded uncharitably, putting her hand on top of his head to steady him and keep him from moving. My husband, looking a little embarrassed, kept as still as he could, but I could tell it was driving him crazy. My hand started to moving a little more vigorously inside my underwear, this was getting to be too much. Purposely taking her time shaving him at the neck, Mistress Stacey kept holding his head to steady him from squirming, I could tell it was getting torturous for my husband, but this only excited me more. I could tell he was thinking, "oh God please stop," and finally, mercifully the neck trimmer was turned off and put back on the table, much to my husband's relief, just as my hand became too much in my underwear, and the massive, almost painful ****** rocked my entire body, and I arched and moaned, not even caring where I was or who was watching me. My husband watched from the chair, looking like he wished he could get up and come to me, throw me on the floor and take me right then and there. Of course he couldn't move, all he could do was look on as a hot lather was wiped over the back of his neck, and the sound of a razor stropping against leather filled the room....he was about to be shaved. My pants soaked, and my body relaxed from my earth shaking ******, an idea came to me, as I watched my hubby's head get bent forward, in preparation for being shaved. I knew that sexual activity was alright amongst clients, just not employees, so I knew it was okay to do what came to mind next. I got up and walked over to my husband in the chair, and as he looked down at me wide eyed, I slipped my head underneath the cape, to the rock hard erection I knew I would find there, and I unzipped his pants, pulling out his swollen penis. I touched the tip of it, feather like, with my tongue, teasing him, caressing him lightly with barely there strokes, as I heard him let out a groan. He was still bent forward, and being shaved with an extremely sharp straight razor, I knew it was imperative that he hold completely still, and this fact only excited me more. I could see his hand tighten on the arm of the chair, underneath the restraints, I knew he was trying to steady himself and keep himself still, as my tongue slowly made it's way down the base of his penis. I worked like that, up and down the base, back up to the tip, teasing him mercilessly, flicking my tongue lightly over his head, before finally taking all of him in my mouth, until he touched the back of my throat. I could still here Mistress Stacey working, cleaning his neck and cleaning over his ears, as I took him fully in my mouth. I could tell it was sweet torture for my husband, but he still continued to remain steady so as not to get cut with the blade, even while my mouth worked over him underneath the cape. I kept on working my mouth up and down the base of his penis, as my tongue worked over the tip at the same time.....driving him out of his mind. Finally I felt the hot liquid squirt out of him and down the back of my throat, as his body stiffened and his lower half that could still move, arched up into my mouth. I heard him say my named loudly, moaning uncontrollably.....yet amazingly managing to stay still from the shoulders up. As I swallowed, my husband stilled and I could feel his body going slack in the chair. I pulled up his underwear, replaced his penis inside of his pants and zipped him up, pulling my head out from underneath the cape. My husband's haircut was completed, and musky smelling aftershave was being applied to his neck and sides, it smelled amazingly masculine. My husband just looked at me huskily, no more nervousness, no more tension, just looking relaxed and sated as he gazed down at me. I grinned up at him, as I rose. Mistress Stacey dusted off his neck and face with a neck brush, then unfastened the cape and removed the neck *****. As it was slipped off of him, she then motioned to me to do the honors of removing the restraints. Before I did, I examined my husbands new haircut, at the skin at the back and sides that I had never seen before, that brought out his handsomely chiseled features. He looked extremely hot! I then looked down at the pile of hair on the floor, as it had all been shaken off the cape. I stood up, much to my husband's surprise, and snapped a quick photo with my iPhone for memory, before working on removing the restraints from his arms and legs. As I took them off, I felt my husband's hands come around me and pull me in for a passionate kiss. He no longer seemed upset with me, and seeing my reaction to his new look, and telling him how handsome he was, there was no more fear or regret on his face. It had been the most erotic thing him and I had ever done, and I knew neither one of us would forget this for the rest of our lives,......it was well worth the money!
beckyboozer73 beckyboozer73 41-45 8 Responses Apr 10, 2013

Your Response

Cancel

haha .. lol
I wish I have wife like you

This is such a great story, Becky. You're right, there's nothing hotter than a guy at the barber shop

I loved your story. I'm a hair fetishist and I told my wife... She has been very supportive but is not willing to participate.... Well, lucky you guys!

Mu hubby read this last night, and he is not a fetisher, yet he was um..."excited" reading this and thought it was very hot. I asked if this scenario could be made real, would he do it for me? He said he probably would. That's so damn hot! Maybe I need to start browsing the personals.... ;-)

Hi where was this place? That's sounds fun!

Very well done...Thank you.

lucky bastard!

It's fantasy.....although we have had our own personal clipper sessions.

It was clear it's fantasy, but fantasy often drives reality...and it's fun to imagine, isn't it?

****, if I found the worlds only dominatrix/barberette, my hubby would definitely be sitting in her chair while I watched. My hubby said he would do it too, he found this story arousing. He is a little left of center like me. :)

Very Nice....You are becoming one of my favorite people on this site!

Thank you so much. I just thought there wasn't enough for guys like you who are interested in being on the receiving end of this kind of fantasy. All the stories are focused on doing this stuff to women only....it's hot with men too......verrrry hot! :-)

More so actually.....there is nothing hotter than a man at the barber shop.

Great great story, I would love to do the same but with the roles reversed with my wife ,awsome,well wrote!
I to used to make up reasons to go to the hairdressers with my wife until I told her about my fetish.

I know, and didn't it suck to pretend to not really be interested? It was better when I told him. I remember when we first dated, he was running to the store and said he was gonna stop and get a haircut while he was out, and I was occupied with something I couldn't get away from at the time. I kept thinking about him sitting in the chair, (his hair was much longer then,) and wondering how much he was getting cut off and whether it was a male or a female who was doing it. I couldn't stop thinking about it and wished I could be a fly on the wall. I couldn't wait to see him when he got back, and when I did it was a bit shorter, I was so turned on by it. Had he known about my fetish I would have just told him to wait for me, but I didn't want to look like some freak. It turned out too that he had went to a barber shop with a female barber who cut his hair.....mmmmm. :)

Before revealing this, we were much like hungry dogs looking to get a table scrap or two......lmao! Dogs privately in heat.
;-)