I first met Wriggle at the railway station, he was wearing a well worn two inch wide leather collar that he wore everywhere with long hair that went all the way down to his waist. The first job was to take him to the barbers.
We sat and waited until it was his turn then he sat in the chair and I told the barber that he wanted his hair cut short with just a mohawk. The poor barber gathered a large bunch of hair up at the back of his head and was just about to put the clippers into it, when a lady passing the shop banged on the window and waved her arms. Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect. The poor barber, almost sh*t himself, dropped the hair and stood back. “That’s not his mother?” the barber asked me nervously.
“No, she’s nobody, she’s just having you on. I assured him and he gathered up the hair again.
As he held the clippers he asked. “Are you really sure?”
“Yes I’m sure,” I told him, and with one motion a large clump of hair came away in his hand then dropped on the floor. Then he worked away until Wriggle had his first Mohawk. On the sides of his head, the barber had cut puppy paw prints into the sides of his head. Just as the barber had finished, the little old lady came back up the road. Looked in the shop window, saw Wriggle and put her thumbs up to indicate that she’d approved.
This visit Wriggle arrived at my home then was very quickly taken to the playroom where he quickly stripped and dressed in the crotchless rubber suit that I provided him with. In next to no time, his arms were up. His legs spread and secured in place with a spreader bar. Then I was able to toy with him like a cat with a mouse.
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