View Full Version : Hair wearer experience

03-24-2016, 08:42 AM
I had finally decided to do something about my baldness.

Last Christmas my ex Velma had left me for a guy with a fabulous head of hair. She wasted no time posting endless pictures of my replacement; praising her new found Adonis' curly locks with captions like, "Can't wait to go home and run my hands through Magnus' mane. A hard man is good to find after all these years!"

I had tried comb-overs, spray in hair, hats, bandanas and rugs but nothing ever gave me that confidence I felt was my birthright as a testosterone fueled man. And now with my Velma gone I was getting seriously depressed and hearing well-meaning people telling me to just let nature take its course, or even worse, embrace my baldness was just making me feel worse. The final straw finally arrived on a blind date my sister had set me up on when my date donned a pair of mirrored Oakleys at the dinner table.

"Why are you wearing sunglasses in a restaurant Shawna?" I asked.

"Well, no offense Bill, but the glare off your head is giving me a migraine."

After that I gave up on dating and gave serious consideration to beginning a long term committed relationship with a barnyard animal.

And then, as if God had taken pity on my miserable soul, I received a mysterious large manila envelope in the mail with no return address. It sat neglected on my desk for a few days. When I finally got around to opening it I was greeted by a slick glossy catalog of hair challenged Hermans who had been miraculously transformed into thick maned Marvins, surrounded by impossibly gorgeous women and all the trappings of great wealth and status.

My curiousity piqued, I got out my trusty magnifying glass, and with an alacrity worthy of Sherlock Holmes, I studied every centimeter of those envy inspiring photos, scanning for any and all tell-tale signs of Photoshop fakery. After half an hour under a strong lamp I gave up. As far as I could tell all that hair looked like nothing short of the real McCoy. I read on.

Make No Mistake About It!

This is not a wig, toupee or rug. This is real hair. Just like you once had only better.

Join the thousands of other men around the world who have regained their confidence and youth by sporting a full head of hair. What God intended Total Hair System Strategies has perfected.

I felt my pulse quicken. I skimmed through the rest of the envelope's contents.

Still not convinced? Get your Hair Replacement System today at 50% off with our double your money-back guarantee!

I looked in the mirror and imagined myself with a full head of hair. I swept the hair from the back over my forehead, which was more of an eight head, and covered the rest with my palm so I could better imagine what it would be like after all these years to see hair getting in my eyes.

"Who you kidding, Bill? You know you want some sweet sweet hair," I said to my reflection.

I dialed the toll free number. A pleasant female voice answered on the other end.

"Total Hair System Strategies. May I have your VIP code?"


"Mr. Konklin? Mr. Bill Konklin?"

"That's me."

"You're indeed on our VIP list. If you come in within the next 24 hours for a consultation we can give you not 50% but 66% off our latest system. How does that sound?"

"Does it look real?"

"Mr. Konklin. Doesn't real always look it?"

I wouldn't admit it then but I was already sold...


I sat in the barber chair waiting for my hair technician to arrive. I had just shelled over $9500.00 cash money for the deluxe lifetime package.

"Mr. Konklin?" the beautiful woman poking her head through the door asked.


"Hi! I'm Rhonda. Your personal consultant. Are we ready to change our life today?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," I said.

"Well, I must say with that handsome face of yours and our new KLX9000 system you are going to have to beat the ladies off with a stick."


"Oh? They didn't tell you? You are going to be the first to try our latest breakthrough technology."

"You telling me I'm going to boldly go where no man has gone before?"

"In a word. Yes."

I felt my heart palpitating.

"Erm, is it safe?"


"Is it safe?"

"Oh pshaw Mr. Konklin. This is the day your life changes. The new KLX9000 isn't like having your old hair back; it's like getting the hair of the Gods for your very own. No split ends. No dandruff. No oily scalp. Just beautiful matinee idol locks that the girls will go crazy over."

Rhonda got behind me and began massaging my neck and shoulders. I could feel her large breasts squishing against my head. I stifled an urge to lean back in those floppy pillows and closed my eyes.

"Shall we begin?" Rhonda asked.

"Why not?"


An hour later it was done.

"Well? What do we think?"

I opened my eyes to see the new me.

Holy ****ing shit. My head had more waves than Fukushima during a tsnuami. Thick. Lustrous. Wavy ass waves. But wait. I ran my fingers through my new 'do, right down to the scalp.

"That's right. Go ahead and massage it."

"It-it feels so real!" I exclaimed.

"It feels real because it is real," Mr. Konklin.

"But how did you do it?"

"I'm sorry but that's a trade secret Mr. Konkin."

I decided it didn't matter.

"Now Mr. Konkin we have some special shampoo that you'll want to use for the next week but after that you should be good for the duration."

Rhonda handed me the small bag of shampoos and gave me a peck on the cheek.

"Why Bill. I'll tell you right now. If I wasn't spoken for I'd... well I better stop before I get worked up..."

And on that happy note I left the offices of Total Hair System Strategies and began my new life.


The next week was a blur. People who knew me were in awe. Women who wouldn't have given me the time of day were now in full on flirt mode. I got a promotion and a raise at work. I started jogging and eating right. Depression was a thing of the past. I put myself up on a few dating sites and within minutes my inbox was an avalanche of hot and horny MILFs ready to beat a path to my door.

I finally responded to a gorgeous blonde who claimed to be a runway model from the Czech Republic.

Within a minute she messaged me.

Within an hour she was on the phone asking me to text her my address.

Thirty minutes after that she was in my living room. Her name was Daleka and she had legs up to her neck and wore a dress down around her ankles. And just like that my new life began.

"Can I? Please?!!?! I have to!!!"

"Oh, okay...."

Daleka ran her hands through my hair squealing with abject delight. The next few hours were a blur but suffice to say I gazed at my ceiling the way a Buddhist monk gazes at his navel. Exhaustion finally set in and I said, "I need a breather, Daleka."

She gave me an angry look but I closed my eyes and remembered no more.

When I opened them again it was dark and the room was cold. I shivered and sat up looking for my robe. What I found instead was Daleka's head in my lap. The only problem was that the rest of her was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the room. I stifled a scream. I lifted the blanket to slide out and Daleka's head rolled off the bed on to the parquet floor finally coming to a rest at her feet.

Not sure what to do next I vomited. Still unsure of my future plans I vomited some more. In fact I vomited until there was nothing left in my stomach but my spine.

I collapsed to the floor in a semi-catatonic state imagining myself going to the electric chair just when my new life was supposed to be beginning.

Then I heard a voice. It said: Bill. Calm down. It's okay. It's all part of the Total Hair System Strategies.

"Who said that?!?!?!"

Easy Bill. You didn't honestly think you could get all this gain with no pain, did you?

"What's happening to me!?!?!" I cried.

Now Bill. I want you to go get a hacksaw and some heavy duty Hefty Lawn bags and then await further instructions.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

Don't ask Bill. Just keep wondering. Now stop being a little bitch and go get that hacksaw.


Fifteen minutes later I was hack sawing what had until recently been a pair of top notch Eastern European legs.

"This wasn't in the ****ing brochure..."

Shoulda read the fine print, Bill.


A few hours later I had backed my car up to the dock and proceeded to drop what was left of Daleka to the bottom of the bay. When I was done I got sick again.

Oh, don't be such a ***** Bill. That wasn't so hard now, was it?

"This can't be happening."

Oh, but it is Bill. And we've only just begun...


Yes, Bill. This is just boot camp. Twelve more weeks and you'll be ready for combat.

"**** you! I won't be your soldier!"

There was no answer from the voice in my head. Was it gone? Before I could ponder further a stabbing pain engulfed my scalp. I dropped to my knees and saw stars.


I rolled in the fetal position on that dock, rocking back and forth as my head felt like it was being simultaneously split open and crushed in a vice.

Are you going to stop being a little bitch, Bill or are we going to have to go to DEFCON 666?

"I'll stop! I'll stop!"

And just like that the pain was gone. I felt weak as a baby but the relief was unimaginable.

Now go home Bill and get some sleep. We'll be in touch shortly.

So I did.


The next day I called in sick to work and headed for the city. I wasn't sure what I was going to do but I knew it involved raising hell at the Total Hair System Strategies offices. I got to the big office building downtown and rode the elevator up to the 66th floor. The doors opened and I saw a bunch of construction workers busy putting up drywall.

I approached a couple of guys holding hammers and said, "Excuse me? Can you tell me what happened to Total Hair System Strategies?"

"Whaddya talking about, pal?" one of the guys said.

"I was here the other day and this was the office of Total Hair System Strategies."

"Hey buddy. I been here all month and there ain't been nothing here but a bunch of construction workers and sawdust. You sure you didn't get off on the wrong floor?"

"Of course I'm sure. I even have their card. Just wait a minute..."

I went in to my wallet and took out the card Rhonda had given me, handing it to the man.

"See for yourself."

"Hey, what're you a ****ing wise guy or something?"

"What are you talking about?"

"This ain't funny pal," the guy said in a distinctly unfriendly tone.

He handed me back the card and I looked at it.

Gay Bob Inflatable Doll Pyramid Schemes


Then I heard a voice in my head say: We've been patient with you Bill. Haven't we? We know there's an adjustment period but this is unacceptable. You can get out of hand, and you can get out of control; but you cannot get out of bounds. Now. Get. Out.

I broke out in a cold sweat. I dropped the card in the sawdust and rode the elevator back to the lobby.

Out on the street it was a beautiful day. There was a crowd gathered as Jackson P. Diddify himself was stumping for the incumbent mayor. I tried to get past the crowd when a voice in my head said:

With that head of hair you'll have no problem getting close to the mayor. Hell, you're sure to knock him dead, Bill. Now go the **** home and use the shampoo and wait for further instructions. Or else it won't be very pretty. Not even a little bit...

"What are you going to do to me?" I whispered as I pushed through the crowd.

Oh, very well, Bill. Since you insist on being such a Chatty Cathy. First we're gonna start by deep sixing that cheating **** Velma. Then we're gonna rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat...

I took a deep breath and thought to myself that perhaps membership did have its privileges after all.

I heard that, Bill.