This story is erotic gay fiction and is for mature audiences only. It may contain supernatural themes, sex scenes, violence, coarse language, drug use, and other adult themes.

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The Test

by Strishka

(The Test by Strishka)

Johnny hated Monday mornings at the shop. Business was always terribly slow before late afternoon. All he really had to do was run the vacuum, clean the glass cases and straighten the stock. All of the took him less than an hour. The rest of the time was dead and about as boring as anyone could imagine. When it was his turn to open on Mondays, Johnny usually took his time with the housekeeping chores and hoped that for the odd customer who came into the shop by mistake. Most of the mistaken customers were tourists or out-of-towners who thought the Christopher Street Leather and Harness shop carried equestrian equipment. One look at Johnny was usually enough to indicate that they’d made a horrible mistake. Instead of a clerk in a sedate business suit and slicked back conservative haircut, those mistaken customers were presented with Johnny in his black leather vest over a bare torso, his silver nipple rings twinkling in the shop lights. Johnny usually made a point of coming out from behind the counter to show off his tight 501’s and high, tightly laced logger boots. That usually was enough to indicate to even the most naive customer that the Christopher Street Leather and Harness shop didn’t stock what they expected. So far this morning, Johnny hadn’t even had that small pleasure. The light rain must be keeping the naive off the streets, Johnny decided. Finished his housekeeping chores, Johnny settled down on the stool behind the counter and lazily flipped through the pages of the Post. He had gotten about halfway through when the little brass bell above the door tinkled. Johnny glanced up briefly and caught a flash of pleated trousers and Oxford shirt under a dripping leather bomber jacket. Another out-of-towner thinking he could buy riding equipment here. Johnny sighed as he pushed himself from the stool and came around the counter.

For the first time, Johnny got a look at the customer and his heart skipped a beat. Long flowing blond hair swept casually back from the customer’s face, framing a smooth boyish face and innocent blue eyes. It was hard to tell, but Johnny guessed that hidden under the clothes was a pretty good body. For a moment he was disappointed that this cute young man would make a hasty exit once he realized exactly what kind of leather shop he was in.
“Can I help you?” Johnny asked, casually running a hand over his bleached crewcut.
“Uh – no, I’m just looking” The young man stammered as he edged towards the back and more explicit displays.
“You have to be eighteen to go back there.” Johnny warned. Maybe this young man wasn’t here by mistake after all.
“That’s okay,” the young man said. “I am.” His eyes grew a little rounder a he noticed Johnny’s stare.
“Really – I’m nineteen.” He fumbled for his wallet and pulled out an ID card.
“See?” Johnny took the card from the boy’s fingers and smiled as he read the card. A Yale University ID, proving that Scott Drake, the kid in front of him, was indeed nineteen.
“Cool, if you need any help Scott, just give a shout.” He returned the card.
“My name’s Johnny.” He said.
Scott took the card back and fumbled it back into his wallet. Johnny was trying to decide if Scott was actually interested in leather or just playing cool. Either way, Johnny was pretty sure the kid had little, if any experience.
“Look, why don’t you let me hang your jacket up by the vent over here?” That should make the kid beat a hasty retreat, Johnny decided. To his surprise, the blond shrugged off his dripping jacket and handed it to him with a weak smile. Johnny took the jacket and watched as the nervous boy wandered around the shop examining the display harnesses, shackles, and leather restraints. A couple of times, he picked up an item, turning it over in wonder. Johnny let the kid wander around the shop for about fifteen minutes without bothering him. No doubt about it at all, this kid was definitely interested in the leather scene. The only question that remained to Johnny was how far he was willing or ready to go. Johnny decided to make his move and find out. He went up behind the college boy and placed his hand lightly on his shoulder.
“Have you ever tried leather?”
“Uh, well,” Scott, stammered, his face showing the pint tinges of a rising blush.
“Chill out, dude,” Johnny laughed easily, “We all start out as novices. I bet you’ve read a lot about it, right?” The kid ducked his head, embarrassed and smiled weakly. The blond mane slipped forward, curtaining his face and hiding his embarrassment. “Let’s see what we can find that would suit you.” Johnny guided the boy towards the counter and selected a three-inch wide slave collar. Turning, he lifted the boy’s hair from his neck and slipped the collar onto him. As he buckled the collar, he noticed that the boy was trembling. Johnny wondered if it was from fear, excitement or both. He stepped back a little and examined Scott. The wide collar made the boy hold his chin up at just the right angle. Johnny smiled and brushed the hair back over Scott’s shoulders, so that it hung straight down his back.
“How’s that feel?”
“Different.” Scott said, tentatively feeling the smooth black leather encircling his neck. Johnny noticed the slight quaver in the boy’s voice and recognized it; the feel of the collar excited him. Johnny remembered the feeling well and decided to take another step. He reached out and began unbuttoning the Oxford button down shirt, pulling it wide to expose Scott’s chest. Johnny watched him carefully. Scott’s eyes darted around, mostly looking down but always flitting up to catch Johnny’s stare. Scott’s hand moved up slightly and hung there, unsure of what to do next.
“Just relax.” Johnny said soothingly, his voice becoming quiet a whisper.
“Keep your hands down and let me do the work for now.” He felt the boys hands drop back down to hang limply at his sides. Johnny examined Scott’s chest, it was nearly hairless, covered with just a light dusting of peach fuzz, and nicely defined. The small nipples stood out like buttons on the pale flesh. Johnny lightly brushed the nipples with his fingertips, leaning forward and blew on them. Instantly, the buttons jumped up hard and Scott’s breathing quickened. Johnny reached into his back pocket and pulled out his own personal Japanese clover leaf tit clamps. Scott’s eyes widened at the sight of the gleaming silver clamps. Johnny stroked his chest lightly and continued to speak in soothing tones, almost hypnotizing the boy to remain calm. Scott hissed softly as Johnny eased the first clamp onto his right nipple. Johnny continued to stroke his chest as he slipped the other clamp onto his right nipple.
“There,” Johnny breathed softly, “that doesn’t feel so bad at all, does it?”
Scott just shook his head, amazed that the clamps actually did feel pretty good. They didn’t cause the excruciating pain he had expected. Johnny smiled and reached up to stroke the boy’s hair. His fingers sank deeply into the thick mass of blond silk. Johnny stroked the golden mane softly, feeling the boy relax more and more. Johnny stepped closer, placing his right leg between Scott’s. His thigh searched for the telltale hardness in the boy’s groin and was surprised to find it not only stiff, but also jumping with excitement. Smiling, he leaned forward and kissed the boy lightly on the check. Johnny’s hands slid down to Scott’s neck, massaging the smooth skin as he moved his lips closer and closer to the boy’s quivering lips. Reaching them Johnny was pleasantly surprised to find them eagerly opened and waiting for Johnny’s own. Gripping Scott’s head lightly, their mouths locked.

The kiss broke only when the need to breathe interrupted the two of them. Johnny smiled, glad to see it returned, if a little shyly. The shyness made it all the more appealing. He leaned forward until his forehead rested against Scott’s and rewarded the boy with several small pecks and kisses before finally stepping back. Keeping one hand rested on the collared boy, Johnny slowly circled him.
“Not too bad,” he judged, stopping in front of Scott.
“Lets try something else,” Johnny went over to a rack of T-shirts and selected a black one about one size smaller the he judged Scott to be. He slid the button down shirt off of Scott who stood motionless and pliable. He handed him the Tee and watched as it was pulled over his head. Scott looked down in surprise; a large circle had been cut into the front of the shirt, exposing the nipples. Johnny readjusted the clamps, so that the silver chain hung on the outside of the shirt. Johnny guided Scott over to the mirror and stood behind him, forearms resting on the boy’s shoulders.
“How do you like the new look?” He nuzzled deeply into the blond mane, searching for the white neck under that mass of hair.

Staring into the mirror. Scott suddenly found it very hard to breath. He couldn’t believe the image staring back at him. Already he looked so different, almost the image from his darkest fantasies, collared clamped and exposed. The tight black t-shirt hugged his torso like a second skin. Johnny’s mouth began to nibble on his earlobe, sending further chills up and down his spine. Johnny’s hands dropped down to rub Scott’s ass under his linen trousers.
“These don’t match the new look.” He whispered seductively into the boy’s ear as he continued to nibble on the soft lobe.
“I think a pair of 501’s would look so much better, don’t you?” Scott dumbly nodded, afraid to speak and shatter the dream he was in.
Johnny guided Scott to the front window and pointed over his shoulder.
“The Village Emporium across the street could fit you in a new pair of 501’s in a minute.” Johnny licked the side of the collared boy’s neck seductively.
“Why don’t you go across and get a pair now?” he suggested.
“Like this?” Scott stammered. Part of him, the side containing his darkest desires, wanted to race across the street without waiting, while his shier side urged him to stop this right now.
“Why not?” The seductive voice said into his ear. Scott tried to turn his head, but Johnny bent and again nibbling long his neck.
“Trust me,” he whispered. “Give in to what you want and just walk across the street and get into those tight jeans, slaveboy.” Scott tensed hearing the word ‘slaveboy’ for the first time. An electric thrill ran down his spine, causing an intense tingling in his groin. He managed to turn his head and return Johnny’s kisses, before smiling weakly and breaking away to cross the street.

Johnny watched as the collared boy self-consciously walked across the sidewalk and into the street, ignoring the stares of passers-by as he headed for the Village Emporium. He smiled, knowing the different urges Scott was feeling at this very moment. His vanilla side wanted to run away in terror, while the darker, more erotic side was urging him further and further along. Johnny suspected that the boy was almost at the point where he wouldn’t want to turn back to the tamer, more boring side of his nature. Scott disappeared into the shop. Johnny kept his vigil, staring through the front window, wondering just how long it would take before the boy reappeared. After ten minuets, the Emporium door opened and Scott emerged into the light rain in his new jeans. Even from across the street, the silver chains of the tit clamps were visible. Some of the hesitancy seemed to have disappeared from Scott’s walk as he re crossed the street, heading for the refuge of the leather shop.

Back by Johnny’s side, Scott modelled his jeans shyly. Only the wide slave collar prevented him from completely lowering his head. Johnny nodded approvingly, and then led the boy back to the counter where he had him take a seal on the stool. Kneeling down, Johnny quickly slipped the docksiders from Scott’s feet and glanced at the size before tossing them into the bag holding his linen trousers.
“You can’t wear those preppy shoes with that outfit.” Johnny said pulling down a pair of linemen’s boots similar to his own. He showed the boy how to tuck the pant legs into the boots before lacing them tight. Standing he held out his hands and led Scott back to the mirror.
“Doesn’t that look so much more like you imagined?” He whispered into Scott’s ear.
“Now you look almost like the perfect leather boy.”
“Almost?” Scott asked with a touch of disappointment in his voice. For some reason he didn’t understand yet, he wanted to please Johnny. He had thrilled at hearing Johnny call him a slaveboy earlier. It was the world he had wanted to hear someone else apply to him for the longest time, ever since he knew he was gay, in fact. From the moment he had gathered the courage to walk into the shop for the first time, Scott had been entranced by Johnny’s appearance, the casual manner he had, wearing just a leather vest and jeans, exposing his pierced chest to the world and not caring who saw it or what they thought about it. From the moment, he had felt Johnny’s fingers sliding the leather bank around his neck and buckling it shut, Scott had wanted to give himself to the more experienced man. He wanted Johnny to be the one to guide him down the path of his darkest fantasies. He had allowed Johnny to collar and clamp him, had followed his instructions and gathered up the courage necessary to walk across the street in public view wearing the collar and clamps and now, Johnny told him he still didn’t look right.

Johnny stroked Scott’s hair again, raking his figures through the thick golden locks.
“I know you’ve looked at pictures in DRUMMER and on the net right?” Scott nodded, not sure how Johnny knew his secret sources of leather information.
“If you really want to step into the dark side, you have to have the total right look.” Johnny said softly and seductively.
“You don’t want to look like some twink just playing at being a leather boy, do you?” Scott didn’t know exactly what a ‘twink’ was, but from the tone he could tell it wasn’t something acceptable to the leather community.
“If you want to earn the right to be a part of the leather community, the right look gives you the right attitude.”

Scott stared at his reflection again, considering the soothing words being whispered into his ear. They all jumbled together, only certain soothing seductive words struck home, slaveboy, leatherboy, and attitude. The words swirled around his conscious mind, crowding out all other rational thoughts. Each one struck a powerful urge within him. For years, he had dreamed of each being applied to him. Johnny was right; he had to have the total look in order to take the step over to the dark side.
“What do I have to do?”
Johnny smiled and kissed his neck again.
“Leave it all up to me, boy. That’s what you want isn’t it, to be someone’s boy?”
Scott dipped his head as far as the collar would allow, the pink flush colouring his face again.
“Not just someone’s boy,” he whispered, “Your boy.”
“Good boy! Stick around here until I get off and we’ll get you ready to take the last step to the dark side.” Johnny’s eyes gleamed with delight at his newfound slave. The boy was eager to please, he had obviously fantasized about this for a long time, and all he had needed was the right push to nudge him into the erotic, sensuality of the leather world.

Johnny spent the rest of the morning sending Scott on errands around the neighbourhood, getting him used to walking in public in his new clothes and collar. Several times, he sent the collared boy down to the coffee shop for espresso and doughnuts, once down to the bank for change he didn’t really need. Slowly, the collared boy became more and more used to the few stares he got in the neighbourhood. Most of the merchants were used to seeing leatherboys wandering around. Johnny knew the coffee shop was gay owned and operated, they’d seen it all before. While his new boy was out, Johnny took the opportunity to call Savage Steve and make an appointment for the last stage of the initial transformation. He briefly considered sending Scott to the appointment alone, but he wanted to be there to see his reaction and to offer reassurance if it were needed.

Todd, his partner in the shop arrived around two, while Scott was out getting more coffee. Johnny quickly outlined the morning’s events for him, his smile growing broader and broader as he told the story. At first, Todd refused to believe Johnny’s story. Then, the young slave returned with the coffee. The boy, who immediately blushed again, impressed Todd. That was one of Johnny’s favourite things about the boy, his shyness and quickness to blush. After a few minutes of small talk, Johnny hurried his boy out of the door to their appointment. As they walked the few blocks to their destination, Scott wanted to know where they were going, but Johnny refused to say anything about their destination at all.

PART 2

Stopping in front of a nondescript brownstone, Johnny buzzed the bell to announce their presence. The return buzz opened the front door, and Johnny ushered the boy into the long dark hallway. Scott stood to one side, looking nervous in the dark corridor. Suddenly, a door at the end of the hallway opened silhouetting Savage Steve in a rectangle of light.
“Right this way, no waiting!” Steve rough voice rattled the corridor walls. Johnny planted his hand in the middle of Scott’s back and pushed the boy down the hall. Scott hesitated once he could see Savage Steve clearly. As usual, Steve was dressed in high engineer boots, faded jeans, a leather harness and nothing else. A sturdy silver chain connected the rings in each of his nipples, swinging back and forth as he moved. His head was covered in a uniform of stubble of salt and pepper hair.
“Is this the new boy?” He eyed Scott critically, patting his butt by way of greeting.
“Needs a little work on his appearance, but that’s why you came to me.” Steve stepped right up to Scott, looked him in the eye, reached out and began to knead the exposed nipples of the slave.
“So, you want to be a leatherboy?” Scott nodded, afraid to speak. Steve tweaked the nipples a little harder.
“I asked you a question, boy. You’re supposed to answer.”
“Yes Sir.” Scott said automatically. The pressure on his nipples eased as Steve smiled and nodded. He had given the right answer. Without knowing why Scott dropped his eyes to the floor. The kneading of his nipples stopped.
“So, you want the full treatment for you boy, Johnny?”
“I don’t think he’s quite ready for that.” Johnny answered smiling, knowing how much Steve liked piercing and tattooing virgin slave meat.
“But, be does need a haircut fit for a slave.” Scott’s head lifted in alarm as Steve cackled in delight.
“He sure does have pretty hair.” He grabbed a handful of Scott’s long, golden hair and guided him into the next room.
“His only problem is that he has too much pretty hair to be a good slave.” An old fashioned barber chair stood in the centre of the room, its white porcelain shinning in the light. Black leather straps dangled from the arms and leg rest. Without giving the boy a chance to protest. Steve guided him into the chair and quickly strapped his wrists down. A heavy leather band was placed across his chest and strapped tight. The raw underside of the leather band rubbed against his bare nipples, keeping then hard and slightly raw. Just as quickly, Steve had a black cape pulled tightly around the slave’s neck.

Johnny noticed the doe-eyed look of fear rounding out Scott’s eyes as he sat strapped in the chair. He went over and stroked the boy’s hand gently.
“How short am I going to get my hair cut?” Scott asked softly.
“That’s for me to decide and you to accept, boy.” Steve said.
“Good slaves don’t complain about the decisions their Masters make for them. Your new Master decided to turn you over to me, told me to give you a haircut suitable for a slave that means I decided when you look right. Got that, boy?”
“Yes sir.” Scott said quickly. Steve began to brush out his hair with long even strokes. Each stroke made his hair glisten and catch the shop lights. Johnny kept stroking Scott’s hand, feeling the boy trembling.
“You put a lot of care into this hair, don’t you boy?” Steve asked. “I bet you love the way other boys look at you, all jealous like of this beautiful mane. Bet the girls come after you, too.” Steve laughed harshly at the blush that jumped across Scott’s cheeks. Steve grabbed a lock of shinning, golden hair and held it in front of Scott’s lips.
“Well, you can kiss this goodbye.” Even Johnny had to grin when Scott leaned his head forward and kissed the offered lock of hair. Steve lifted the lock of hair high and pulled out a pair of scissors. Opening the blades wide, he slid them about an inch from the boys scalp and held them there for a moment. The boy squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation, making Steve grin even wider. He slowly brought the blade together, keeping the lock of hair taught between the blades.

The sharp blades crunched through the golden hair, cleanly severing it. Steve dropped the shorn lock into Scott’s lap, making him open his eyes. They grew moist seeing the shorn hank of shining golden hair sitting lifeless in his lap. Steve randomly lifted another lock of hair and hacked if off, letting it drop into the boy’s lap to join its mate. At this point, Steve wasn’t interested in creating a style; he was content to hack random locks of hair off, cropping the length away. For the time being, he was content to lift random locks of golden hair from the top of the boy’s head and whack them off, destroying the perfect look of the boy’s previous style.

Johnny stood by the front of the chair and softly stroked Scott’s hand; trying to stroke the tears form the boy’s frightened eyes. Each crunch of the scissors brought those beautiful eyes closer and closer to brimming over. He watched as the pile of shorn blond locks in the boy’s lap grew larger, threatening to slide off onto the floor. Steve combed out Scott’s blond bangs, hiding his face under a golden curtain of hair, which hung, down to the middle of his chest. Steve’s scissors snipped the curtain away across the boy’s forehead at eyebrow level. With each snip, more and more of the hair curtain parted and dropped into Scott’s lap.
“You look like the kind of boy who used to wear pretty bangs,” Steve teased. “Did you have pretty boy bangs covering your forehead, boy?”
“When I was little, sir.” Scott mumbled miserably.
“Bet you liked those sissy boy bangs, didn’t you?”
“No sir.”
“NO?” Steve repeated in mock shock. “Well, guess we’ll have to get rid of these sissy boy bangs!” Steve dug his scissors under the fringe of the blond bangs right at the hairline and began snipping them off, smiling as the shorn locks fell directly into the boy’s face, before rolling down his lap. Strands of golden hair stuck to the boy’s face. Johnny looked over to Steve who nodded his consent. Gently, he reached out and wiped the stray strands off his boy’s face. The gentle touch was enough to trigger the burst of tears the bright blue eyes had been trying to hold back. They brimmed up over the long, soft lashes and rolled down the covered cheeks. Johnny smiled, remembering well the feeling, and gently brushed the tears away. Steve rubbed his hands over the top of Scott’s head, dislodging more stray strands of hair before stepping back and studying the boy.

The long, thick locks covering the top of the boy’s head from forehead to crown had been chopped down to about an inch or so in an uneven carpet of dense yellow locks. The sides and back of the boy’s head were still covered in a long, magnificent shower of golden hair. Steve lifted a long lock on the left side of the boy’s head and began to braid it. His nimble figures seemed to fly as he formed the long tight whip of hair. Finished with the braid on the left, Steve repeated the process with a lock of hair on the right of Scott’s head, near the forehead. The twin braids hung down the sides of his face to each nipple when Steve was finished.
“Do you seriously want to cross over to the leather life, boy?” Steve asked, roughly rubbing his strong hand over the top of Scott’s head.
“Are you man enough to make your new Master happy, leatherboy?”

Scott’s round eyes blinked through his tears, trying to think of the right answer. By his side Johnny just squeezed his hand, trying to show he would be happy no matter what the answer.
“Yes, sir” Scott squeaked, his voice close to breaking. It was clear he had no idea of what Steve had in mind. Johnny smiled at his boy, leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek.

Steve released the clutch on the chair and leaned it all the way back. His long hair swung off his shoulders and hung loosely back just inches from the floor. Steve undid the black cape, letting the shorn locks spill to the floor in an untidy mass. Unbuckling the boy’s belt, Steve unbuttoned the new 501’s and tugged them down exposing the boy’s dark blue bikini briefs. Taking a large pair of scissors from the counter, Steve slid the cold blade up the outside of the boy’s right thigh and sliced through the dark blue briefs. He repeated the process on the left side and pulled the useless briefs off.
“Won’t be needing these anymore.” He said, wadding them up and tossing them into waste can. Picking up the first pair of scissors, Steve began attacking the curtly dark blond bush the covered the boy’s crotch. Behind him, Johnny crouched and massaged Scott’s temples, whispering softly into his ear. He noticed more tears running from the tightly closed eyes of his boy. He smiled, knowing the physiological humiliation the boy was feeling at having his badge of manhood reduced to stubble. Steve filled his hand with hot lather and slowly massaged it into the stubble surrounding the boy’s barely erect cock. He smiled at the normal reaction. The mixture of excitement and fear usually kept the organ engorged and slightly lengthened and thickened, but not quiet enough to become fully erect. That would come later. Lifting the thickening organ. Steve worked the lather over and under the boy’s balls. Wiping his hands on a small towel. Steve pulled his straight razor from the drawer and bent over the boy’s lather covered crotch. Using light even strokes, he pulled the razor into the lather. A smooth, pink swath cut through the foam, making the skin look more naked and vulnerable. Steve whistled softly between his teeth as he went about his work of shaving the boy smooth. Reaching the ball sac, he pulled the skin taut and expertly guided the razor over the skin, making each globe little boy smooth and hairless. He rubbed his knuckles over the freshly shaved skin, almost perfect. He smiled as he re-lathered the boy’s crotch and shaved it again, this time going against the grain of the hair growth to ensure the boy would be totally smooth.

Wiping the razor clean. Steve set it aside and stood up. Lifting the black T-shirt to the boy’s neck, Steve again kneaded the hard nipples. The boy unconsciously moaned in the mixture of pleasure and pain the kneading produced. Steve stepped back and pulled out a set of sterile latex gloves. Johnny began massaging Scott’s forehead and temples with a little more intensity as Steve prepped his nipples for the upcoming piercing. Scott seemed to know what was about to happen. His breathing increased and frightened moans escaped his lips. Johnny buried his lips into the cropped carpet of blond locks, kissing his boy to reassure and comfort him.

Steve worked quickly proud of his skill. Some piercers he knew prided themselves on causing the slave pain as each nipple was pierced first by the needle and then by the stainless surgical steel ring. Steve, on the other hand, was more proud that he could efficiently have both rings in place and set before the slave could realize the extent of the pain he had just endured. Pain was the right of the Master. Steve’s job was to make the slave look and feel the proper way.

Steve righted the chair, smiling at the way Johnny rose with it, never once letting his hands leave his new boy’s forehead. Scott opened his eyes, aware of the residual pain in each nipple and amazed that it was over so quickly. Tilting his head, he looked in awe at the silver rings protruding from each nipple. The braids on each side of his head swung heavily from side to side, brushing the ringed nipples. Steve took his scissors and snipped the right braid off close to the boy’s scalp. Taking the loose end of the braid, Steve wrapped it around the right nipple. A drop of super glue securing it in place. Snipping the left braid off, Steve secured it to the left ring like he had done with the first one. Steve smiled as he lifted the loose ends of each braid and twined them together, linking the boy’s nipples together with braided locks of his own blond hair. He secured the entwined braids with a couple of drops of super glue before dropping the silky braid onto the boy’s chest.
“A little something to remind you of you pretty hair.” Steve said, rubbing the boy’s chin.

Steve eyed his collection of clippers hanging from the hooks in front of the chair. His eyes stopped on the black Oster clippers with the quad zero blades and lit up. Lifting the heavy clippers from their hook, he snapped them on with a practiced flick of his thumb. Stepping over to the bound boy, Steve used his left hand to steady his head, fingers digging into the long locks hanging from the sides of the partially cropped head. Steve placed the buzzing clippers flat in front of the boy’s right ear and pushed them straight up. Long golden hair immediately began to rain down onto the boy’s shoulder before tumbling down into his smooth, bare lap almost hiding the stiffening cock. The next pass of the clippers sent more blond hair cascading down. This time, there was enough hair to completely cover the boy’s stiffness. The unruly mass of long shorn locks were enough to completely hide the smooth crotch and Steve still had a lot more hair to buzz off. He moved smoothly, plowing the clippers around the right ear and flipping the shorn locks directly onto the growing pile. Now the silky blond locks hid even the head of boy’s cock.

Steve stepped behind Scott and pushed his head as far forward as the wide slave collar would allow exposing his nape. Bringing the clippers up under the mass of hair falling over the boy’s shoulders, Steve plowed them straight up his neck to the crown. This time, instead of stopping at the crown, Steve kept pushing them forward over the top of the boy’s head, stopping only when he reached the forehead. Short clumps of hair dropped from the top of Scott’s head to mix with the pile of thick, silky locks hiding her hairless crotch. Steve made a second pass up and over the boy’s head, then a third and fourth, reducing the long, flowing locks to blond fuzz. He moved to the left side of the chair and attacked the remaining long locks. His Oster clippers easily mowing through the golden hair like a combine through a field of wheat. The long, thick locks fell heavily away from the hungry blades of the clippers to mingle with the rest of the tangled mass in the boy’s lap. Steve snapped the clippers off and regarded his handiwork.

Scott sat slumped in the chair; his beautiful long hair either covered the floor or his denuded lap. In its place was a 1/16th inch field of golden stubble. The boy looked like a convict on death row awaiting a date with the electric chair. Steve like the look on the boy. The head of stubble robbed him of the pretty boy look he had come into the shop with and made him look more like what he was, a leatherboy in training. Hanging his clippers up, Steve released the boy from his restraining straps and helped him out of the chair. The pile of shorn hair dropping heavily onto the floor at their feet. He turned the boy towards Johnny.
“Well, what do you think, Johnny?” He asked.
“Like the look of your new boy?”

Johnny stared in wonder at the boy standing before him, his eyes lowered to the huge mound of shorn golden locks in front of his feet. The jeans still pulled down around his calves, exposing the freshly shaven crotch. Jutting out from the smooth groin, Scott’s erection betrayed any sense of shame or humiliation he was feeling. Bringing his eyes up to Scott’s body, he smiled at the sight of the braided locks of hair joining the stainless steel rings piercing each nipple. Johnny reached out and touched the buzzed crop of blond stubble on his boy’s head. The silky longs his fingers had sunk in earlier were gone, a soft stubble covering his boy’s entire head. Johnny reached down and tugged the boy’s jeans back up, tucking his erect member down the right let, unmindful of the obvious bulge it caused. The black T-shirt was pulled down and tucked into the jeans.
“Next time we come,” Johnny announced. “My boy will need a shorter haircut and a couple of tattoos.”
Scott’s head drooped slightly in submission and Johnny knew that whatever happened next, he owned this boy. Johnny led his humbled boy out of the shop and into the street for all to New York to see.

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