(Caption) Arctos: Grooming

October Caption Challenge (4/31)

Steve dragged the package in with him that was lying outside the apartment, so happy it was finally here. With the quarantine going on, all of the barbers and salons had shut down–not that Steve had really cared. He’d always just buzzed his own hair with an electric razor. But a few weeks into quarantine, the dang thing had broken down! 

He’d gone online to buy a new one, but every single one on Amazon was sold out, and back ordered for at least a month, of not longer. Unable to believe it, he’d gone out and looked at a few stores, but sure enough, he hadn’t been able to find anything. In the end, he lucked out. A little store, by the name of Arctos, had an electric shaver on their site, and the price wasn’t bad either. He ordered it in, and here it was–and his hair wasn’t even that unruly, though the couple of weeks growth was more than he’d seen on his head in ages. He got the razor out, and was surprised to find that it was just the electric shaver–there were no guards to be found. He usually used the smallest one, but it was still odd that it wouldn’t have them.

In any case, it didn’t matter that much. He went into the bathroom, plugged it in, and started working on his head–but as he did, he started to feel a bit strange. A little light headed, maybe. Of course, what he hadn’t really noticed on the shaver, before using it on his head, was that there were some setting on the side he hadn’t bothered to check. A little dial with some words on the side. See the razor didn’t have any guards–Arctos was very keen on having you shave away your old self entirely, leaving you with a nice, clean scalp, and a nice clean new life to go with it. The setting Steve was currently using to trim his hair right down to his scalp, was “sadistic skinhead”.

The more hair that fell away, the sexier he looked, and the more he found himself thinking about the cruel shit he wanted to do to Aaron, his roommate. They’d been getting along alright up to this point, but Steve found himself fantasizing about pinning him down, soaking him down in his piss, humiliating him in the most depraved ways–fuck, his cock was rock hard. He pulled it out with his free hand, surprised by the PA in the head and the tattoos running up the shaft–but just for a moment. They’d always been there, hadn’t they? He finished his haircut, his old self gone, and admired the muscular, tattooed skinhead staring back at him in the mirror. He’d save his load for now though–Aaron would be home soon. He started fiddling with the dials on the shaver–he was due for a haircut as well.

Aaron came home, and it was the smell that alerted him something was off. It was cigarettes. But Steve and he both hated them, and the apartment was non-smoking anyway, so who would have been smoking in here? He followed the smell to the bathroom, and he found Steve sitting on the toilet, cigarette in his mouth, wearing…well, it wasn’t anything he’d seen Steve in before.

“There you are, Pig,” Steve said, and beckoned him closer with a gloved finger, “Time for your haircut piggy.”

Aaron tried to run, but Steve was vicious–he pinned him against the wall and took off a stripe of hair with the razor, and as he did, Aaron gave a snort of excitement. “Yeah, that’s it pig, just embrace it. We’ll get rid of all that hair, and you’ll be so much happier, trust me.”

A few more stripes, and Aaron was more turned on than he’d ever been in his life. Steve forced the collar around him, put him on his knees, and dragged him over to the toilet, where there was a dog bowl full of Steve’s cold piss in front of him. “Have a drink Pig, while I work on the back of your head.”

The setting that Steve had settled on for Aaron, after much deliberation, was “Daddybear Pigslave.” Sure enough, as more and more of Aaron’s hair fell away, Steve watched him get older, hairier and fatter, happily lapping at his young Master’s piss. When his head was perfectly bald, Steve dragged him out of the bathroom and fucked him in his bedroom, before showing his new slave to his proper home–the cage that had appeared in the dungeon, where Aaron’s room had been an hour ago. He added some more piss to his bowl, and Aaron happily drank it down, oblivious to the fact that he’d had any other life, beyond this one.