Summer Camp by alex
It was June once again. John, a tall thin boy with blonde hair, Arron, average height and build with blonde hair, had returned from last year to work another year on the camp pool staff. Eric was new to our team. He had dark blond hair not quite to his shoulders, that he wore in a pony tail. He would have to be broken in. Being a lifeguard was not such a bad job, and everyone knew what was expected. Rule number one was no long hair, and John and Arron knew it. They had each individually found out rule number one in their own way.
John had been on staff for several years now. When he first came to work at camp he had shorter length light brown hair -- until initiation. No one ever seemed to realize that all the pool staff all had crew cuts. It was staff week. Time to open the pool to prepare for the summer. We had just spent a long hot day painting depth markers and cleaning the pool from winters damage. John seemed to be particularly hot, and we knew why. His time had come. As tradition, we asked him if he wanted to become a member of a secret staff club, and explained what an honor it is to even be asked. We had been down this road before, and knew what to say to entice him into joining. The answer was yes. We told John to meet us at the lake site by the old barn for his initiation ritual at 10pm, and to be sure to tell no one, or risk his membership. We greeted him outside, bound his hands behind his back, taped his mouth, blind folded him and led him in. The barn was dark except for a light bulb hanging from a cord, in the corner. Hanging down from the light bulb was another cord. The sixty watt bulb illuminated a single chair in the corner. John was seated in the chair. His blind fold was removed. We explained to him that a tradition that has its roots dating back to 1941 when the camp was opened was for the pool staff to sport crew cuts, and that the tradition must continue. As the excitement grew in the room the clippers were turned on. With each pass of the clippers tufts of hair fell to his shoulders and lap. Each of us had a turn so that we were all equally guilty, although we each secretly shared an enthusiasm for this ritual. With just a few more passes to clean things up we were almost done. The last step was a few spray of hair lightener, and initiation was complete.
Things were different for Eric's initiation. He wore his hair in a pony tail most of the time, including to go to bed. The secret staff club scenario would not work. We had to be smart and plan this out. Again it was staff week. After several nights we noticed a pattern that had developed. Each night, after ten o'clock Eric and several other staff members would sneak out to get a couple six packs of beer. They would come back to camp, sit out by the lake site, and down a few. Then around midnight, they would stumble back to the staff area get undressed down to their underwear, and pass out on their bunks. This was it. We would have to count on this to happen at least one more time. It was Saturday night. The Campers would arrive tomorrow for the first week of camp. We knew that this was our last chance for at least another week. As luck would have it, Eric asked us if we wanted to join him. We declined, but knew that we had to be ready. Around 12:30 AM we heard him making a bit of noise as he stumbled back into staff camp. Patience would be needed to make sure that all were asleep, and that Eric had passed out. It was one PM and time to strike. With tape in hand, we quietly stepped into his tent, taped his mouth, put a pillow case over his head, picked him up and off we went. Once we were certain that we were out of ear shock of the staff site, we put him down, and bound his hands behind his back. As we reached the barn we made certain that no one had followed us, and in we went. We knew that once Eric knew what was going to happen he would try to resist, so we secured his legs to the chair and his arms as well. We removed the pillow case, and noticed his hair was a mess from the struggle. Still feeling the effects of alcohol, Eric seemed almost to enjoy what was happening. We took out a brush and started to brush his hair to put it back into a pony tail. The more we brushed, we noticed that through his underwear, which was the only thing he was wearing, he was getting a hard on. We knew then that he was enjoying this as much as we were. We then explained to him what we were about to do. He still did not seem to understand. With that I picked up the pair of scissors laying next to the chair. I walked behind him and gathered up his pony tail, and with one smooth action of the scissors, proceeded to cut it off. There was a look of amazement in his eyes. It had taken years to get his hair to this length, and in an instant, it was gone. Little did he know that in a few short moments, it would all be gone. With his pony tail out of the way, the balance of the ceremony began. With the flick of a switch the clippers were buzzing, and long locks of blonde hair fell to his shoulders, lap and floor. With each pass of the clippers, Eric seemed to get more excited, as apparent by the bulge in his underpants, and the lack on his behalf to put up any kind of resistance. Once again, just a few passes of the clippers to clean things up, a spray or two of lightener, and Eric was now one of the boys.