Cocky Barber Gets Cut Down To Size
by SckFtTklFtsh
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It had been five months since 23-year-old Danny began his apprenticeship working for Sean and Mick at their Barbershop and all three were delighted with how their union was working out.
It felt like he had worked there for years. As well as developing a rapport with Sean and Mick and their customers, Danny had turned out to be a natural at all the services offered by the barbershop-as well as haircuts, the shop offered traditional shaving, head massage and shoe-shining. He had been a godsend to the shop.
The rapport between them had created a relaxed, playful ambience in the shop with Sean and Mick regular targets for Danny’s witty put-downs. The one thing that was off-limits was the subject of Sean’s thinning hair-a nightmare scenario for a barber. Once Danny had teased Sean about it in front of customers, much to Sean’s annoyance. Trying not to laugh, Sean had threatened that if it happened again he would pin Danny down and take the clippers to his crowning glory-the perfectly cultivated quiff he sported.
As the lead singer in a local band, Danny was quite the boy-about-town, with a unique sense of style-a modern twist on a fifties rocker . His hair was shaved to the skin around the back and sides, with his dark brown quiff his trademark. He always wore the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled-up to show off his myriad tattoos which were a full sleeve design on his right arm, tight indigo jeans with turn-ups, gleaming white socks and black loafers. He was often taunted by Mick and Sean and their customers over his size 11 feet, which looked huge in contrast to his skinny legs.
One day, as usual-the banter was in full swing. Danny was cutting a man’s hair while Sean was discussing the new photographs he wanted for the window of the barbershop.
“Of course I’ll pose for them,” Danny quipped, smirking. “It’s for the best if you wanna attract more customers-after all, your follicly-challenged mugs aren’t gonna exactly boost business are they!”
“I’ve warned you!” Sean shouted, sensitively touching his head. “Anymore of that and you’ll be sorry!”
“Yeah, yeah-whatever!” Danny grinned, relishing being the centre of attention, raising laughs from the waiting customers. “If you say so!”
Shortly after 6pm, as Danny was finishing sweeping the black & white checkerboard floor, Mick called him into the office at the back of the shop.
“Turn the door sign to Closed Danny and come through to the back,” he said. “We just want a word with you.” “Yes, ok,” said Danny, following his instructions.
Upon entering the office, Danny was met by a firm hand on his shoulder from Mick.
“Have a seat, Danny” he said, forcing Danny down on the leather couch. “We just want to have a word about today when you embarrassed Sean in front of the customers.”
“When?” Danny asked, feeling slightly apprehensive as Mick and Sean sat down on either side of him.
“You know when, Danny,” Sean said. “You were loving holding court out there Danny Boy! Don’t look so worried-we like a laugh and we know you do to! Don’t you, eh?” He started poking Danny in the ribs.
They had known how ticklish Danny was-they had grabbed him in the ribs and sides when he overstepped the mark with his jibes, and, after shaving his hair for him every Saturday, they saw how he flinched and giggled when they used the soft brush on his neck to wipe off the excess hairs.
“Ha ha, give over lads!” Danny giggled, twisting round, trying to shield his ribs. “Pack it in! It was just a laugh!”
“We understand,” said Mick. “And so is this…”
Mick and Sean began tickling Danny, grabbing his ribs, probing his armpits as he squirmed and struggled, trying to get away.
”Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!! Please guys! Alright-I understand!! Hahaha!! Now let me go!!”
“Oh we haven’t started Danny,” Mick smirked, grabbing Danny by the wrists. “We did warn you!! Now it’s our turn to have some fun at your expense! Don’t worry-I think you’ll enjoy it too!”
Danny struggled to free himself, but at 155lbs, he was no match for the two 200lb gym rats that now had him at their mercy.
They picked him up, carried him into the shop and forced him down onto the retro red snooker table in the back of the barbershop.
“NO! NO! Guys come on!” Danny shouted. Before he knew what was happening his wrists were restrained above his head to the two top pockets of the snooker table. “Please guys, that’s enough!”
He was kicking his legs frantically, twisting his body left to right, desperately trying to free himself, but to no avail. Mick and Sean produced a length of rope and tied Danny’s ankles to the bottom pockets of the snooker table.
“Guys, let me go!” Danny shouted. “You can’t fucking do this. I’m not joking. Let me go now! I have a gig tonight and I’m gonna be late. The guys will be looking for me!”
“Don’t worry Danny,” Sean said, circling the snooker table. “We’ve spoken to Jake at the bar and told him you’re doing some overtime for us. He says it’s fine for the gig to start later. We want to see a show of our own first…”
As he taunted Danny, Sean ran his fingers along Danny’s ribcage.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!! STOP!!!
“What’s wrong Danny?! A little ticklish are we?!”
“No! AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!! GUYS PLEASE!!!” Danny gasped. “No Mick NO!!!!”
Danny had looked down and saw Mick standing at the bottom of the snooker table and felt him gently tickle the tops of his feet.
“I think this might be his spot Sean!” said Mick, gleefully. Sean walked down to join him at Danny’s feet. “We’ll soon see!” he said.
“No, guys, please! Not my feet!! Please not my feet!!” Danny begged, struggling to pull his feet out of their reach, but they were secured. “I’m begging you guys, please don’t!”
But Danny was helpless to stop the tickle torture he was about to endure at the hands of his bosses. He felt a sick feeling in his stomach as his body gave in to the feeling that he was powerless to stop the utter torture he was about to undergo.
Relishing Danny’s immobility and fear, Mick and Sean giggled at each other and nodded as they knew they had found Danny’s weakness. Each taking one of Danny’s feet, one-by-one, they slowly slipped off Danny’s loafers.
Danny felt the cool air on his hot foot as Sean took off his right shoe.
“No, Sean!! Please mate!!” Danny begged. “Please not my feet!”
“The size of these fucking things!!” Sean smiled, holding Danny’s shoe to his nose and inhaling deeply. “Size 11, they’re fucking huge!”
Danny tried again to pull his foot away, wiggling his toes, pointing his foot, all to no avail, his white-socked sole bearing the telltale signs of someone who frequently went shoeless, a dusty grey imprint of his foot on his sock-his toes, the ball and his heel.
“Sean no!! Please!!”
“Not such a big guy now are ya?!” Sean grinned. “Maybe we should get all those customers back in to watch you squirm and beg, eh?! Not so quick with the wisecracks now!”
Mick delighted in repeating the process with Danny’s right shoe. Again, Danny felt a blast of cool air on his foot as his shoe came off, the thin white material of his sock moulded to his sole with sweat from standing all day.
“Oh god” Danny moaned, wiggling his toes, flexing his foot, moving it any which way he could to try and free it.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! NO!! HAHAHAHA!!!! Danny felt the first strokes of the torture on his socked sole as Mick gently circled his fingers on Danny’s instep, the feeling akin to a bolt of electricity through his body. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOOOAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! GUYS PLEEEEAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
Danny pointed his foot, curled his toes as far as he could to try and protect his soles, only for Mick to grab his foot, holding his toes back as his fingers delved into the base of Danny’s toes. “AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! AAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!” Danny’s laugh was part hysterical laughter, part screams. His face was bright red, with sweat and tears streaming down his face. “NO!! NO!!! NOOOO!!” he gasped. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!! PLEASE STOP!! I’M GONNA PISS MYSELF! PLEASE!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
By now, Sean had joined in on Danny’s other foot. Danny bucked wildly, throwing his body from left to right. “GUYS NO!!! PLEASE!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAN’T TAKE IT!! I CAN’T BREATHE!!!!”
But Mick and Sean wouldn’t ease off him. They continued working their fingers over every inch of Danny’s ultra-sensitive soles, his insteps, heels, between his toes, while their helpless victim thrashed, pleaded and screamed himself hoarse.
Danny’s ordeal seemed to have lasted forever, he was breathless, sweating and hyperventilating. He had struggled so much that his socks had almost worked themselves off his feet-the discreet argyle pattern on the ankle was by now on his heel and at least six inches of sock hung over his toes. Sean used the sock to hold Danny’s foot in place, wrapping it round his hand while he tickled Danny’s toes to breaking point. Mick had pulled the sock off altogether and was now tickling Danny’s bare foot.
“You’re sweating Danny Boy!” He laughed, wiping his hand on the felt of the snooker table. “Let’s make this more interesting.”
He walked over to get a tub containing various hairbrushes and combs, placing it on the snooker table. “Some tools of the trade! Help yourself Sean!”
Danny looked down in panic. “What? No! No! Please, I’ve had enough!”
“It stops when we’ve had enough Danny,” Sean grinned, pulling off Danny’s other sock.
“WHA…? NO! NO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! Danny screamed as a variety of brushes reached every crevice of his bare feet, strong fingers pulling his toes up, making them susceptible to futher torture-stimulating every single nerve ending, sending his body into a series of convulsions. “I CAN’T… I CAN’T.. AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!! I CAN’T LAUGH ANYMORE…AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NO!! NO! I’M GONNA PISS MYSELF, PLEASE GUYS PLEASE I’M BEGGING!!! PLEASE FUCKING STOP!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!
Danny lay spent, gasping as his brain registered that the torture inflicted on his feet came to an end. Mick and Sean stood grinning at him.
“Had enough?” Sean asked.
“Ye… Ye… Fuck yes,” Danny gasped. “Please let me go guys. PLEASE. I’m begging you. I won’t take the piss ever again…”
Mick untied Danny’s wrists while Sean untied Danny’s ankles.
“AAAH!” Danny yelped as Sean rang a finger up Danny’s sole.
“Sorry!” Sean laughed. “It was an accident!”
“You bastard!” Danny said, trying no to laugh, as he sat up and began putting his socks back on. “Give me my fucking shoes!”
Sean handed him his shoes and Danny slipped his feet back into them quickly.
“I’m exhausted you pair of bastards!” Danny said. “I’m sore everywhere, by back, arms, shoulders from struggling, my stomach and throat from laughing and screaming, my feet from the tickling… don’t know how I’m gonna do a gig tonight.”
“You’ve been asking for it!” Mick laughed. “That was just a warning! Any more trouble and you get the real deal! We’ll see you bright and early on Monday morning. Don’t be late again-OR ELSE!!”
“Don’t worry I won’t!” Danny laughed, throwing his leather jacket over his stretched, misshapen t-shirt, making his way out of the shop. “I wouldn’t dare, would I?!”
“That’s right!” Sean called after him. “Or you know what happens!”
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