Cunts at The Barber Chair

t was about a quarter til nine in the evening when I entered the hair salon. Almost closing time. The store was empty, except for the woman working there. She was sweeping up with a broom. Tall, long frizzy blonde hair, statuesque, mid 30’s. She looked at me with a trace of annoyance — no doubt because my presence meant she may have to work late. She quickly masked it. “How can I help you?” she asked cheerfully. I paused, swallowed nervously. “Er…Kristi sent me.” She appraised me carefully, looking me up and down carefully, her cool gaze locking with my eyes. I’m petite, slim, about 5′ 5″, shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes. Small but pert breasts. Cute. Perky. That’s how people describe me. I’m 28, but I look 5 years longer. People generally think I’m still in college. “Did she now. And what did she say you should ask for?” I looked at the floor, my heart pounding. “The…the full treatment.” “How very interesting.” she said. Her eyes betrayed a flash of excitement, but she remained very cool. “Come have a seat.” She patted the chair. I sat down. She went to the door. Turned the sign around that said OPEN from the outside. Now it said CLOSED on the outside, and OPEN on the inside. She slowly closed the blinds on the door, the windows. Soon the outside world was shut out, and we were enclosed, the florescent lights humming. “Be right back” she said. She went to rummage in the back. I waited, heart pounding, my breath feeling nervous and strange, hollow, like an asthma attack. The air conditioning was running full tilt, but I felt a cold sweat nonetheless. Should I bolt? I snapped out of my reverie when the chair swiveled…she was back and turning me to face the mirror. She put a lone horizontal finger under my chin, and lifted, forcing me to raise my head and straighten up primly in my chair, out of my slouch. Backbone straight, head held high. The finger traced along my jaw, then slowly up my cheek. Just this contact…one finger along my face…felt very sensuous. Her hand went behind my head, and ran through my hair. “Beautiful.” Not quickly, but so smooth and fluidly that it seemed to happen in slow motion like a dream, she slid a velcro strap around my wrist and fastened it tight. I was already gripping the armrest. Another strap at the elbow. I flexed experimentally. My left arm was pretty well pinned. She reached around me, her long hair brushing me. Tugged my t-shirt out of my cut-offs. Kept tugging it on the right til it was above my head. She slid it down my left arm, where it pooled around the elbow, covering the strap. Suddenly, most of me above the waist was exposed. A lacy white bra still covered my breasts, but in the hair salon surroundings, I already felt naked. She quickly fastened my right arm the same way. She paused to look critically at me, turned the chair a fraction, turned and studied me in the mirror as well. I studied too. A pretty, helpless girl. It could have been somebody else, was this really me, this stranger? What had she gotten herself into? She could squirm and kick her legs fetchingly, but what would it get her? The blonde unfastened the button of my cutoffs…lowered the zipper. She left for a few minutes. My shorts suggestively opened and unzipped, lewd. When she returned, she knelt before me, her hands reaching on either side. “Lift” she said curtly. I raised me ass, and she slid the cut offs down my legs, removed it from my right foot, let it rest around my left ankle.. “Again” she said. Panties down similarly, left around my right ankle. My cunny was exposed to the open air. Then she sank to the floor, grabbed my left ankle, strapped it somewhere to the bottom of the chair. Repeated with my right ankle. They were on the side and back a ways, forcing my legs fairly widely apart. I could still close my knees, with effort. Now I was bare, except for my bra, my tshirt, cutoffs, and panties individually bunched up around a different restrained appendage. At that moment like an explosion was the sound of somebody turning the doorknob. I felt a flash of panic. If someone was to see me like this! The door started to open. She had forgotten to lock it! Bang! went the chain. She had fastened the chain, just hadn’t locked the door. She rushed over. “Sorry, we’re closed!” A muffled response. She made a few quiet words of conversation. I had slammed my knees together. We were in the corner, so they probably could not have seen me. She made her apologies and goodbyes, and closed and locked the door. The blinds swung and clunked against it. She came back with a wicked smile. “Now, where were we? Ah yes. Here are the ground rules. You will address me as Mistress. If anything gets too extreme for you, the safe word is Rumplestilskin. Understand?” I nodded. “Yes, Mistress.” She leaned close to me. I could feel the heat from her breath. The air conditioning droned on. Goosebumps rose, and my nipples stood up like pencil erasers. She ran her finger along my breasts, my nipples… lowered her hand, and cupped between my legs. “You have a nice trimmed bush…” she smiled. “Already damp. But it looks like it’s growing out. I think you will need a shave. But first…” She unfastened my bra, let it drop to the floor. Now I was naked but for my little earrings. She rummaged on the shelf by the mirror. I couldn’t see what she was up to. She whirled. In her hands were some metal clips for pinning up hair. Without preamble she snapped one on my left nipple. “Ahhhhhhhhh!” I gasped. It bit in. Another clamped onto my right nipple. “Please!” I breathed. Another velcro strap went around my knee. Attached to it was an elastic cord with a cinch. It went behind my back, around the chair. Taut. To an identical strap around the other knee. My knees were now pulled back and apart, spreading my legs wide. Ankles restrained, wrists and elbows likewise. I was pinned tight, exposed and helpless. Another clip to my clit. “Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig!” I squealed. Tears brimmed in my eyes. I bit my lip. “Please no, mistress.” I said. “You may have any two removed. Choose!” “The right nipple and the clit. Leave the left nipple.” She complied. Their absence was like the volume suddenly being turned down on a stereo. She went humming to herself behind me, out of sight. I heard a sink running. She came back with a small bucket. A slight steam showed it was hot water. She made me lift my ass again, placing a pillbox shaped pillow beneath. Now I was forced to thrust foreward, exposing my crotch. She put a towel into the bucket, then rubbed it between my legs. The hot water made me jump, even higher then I was bent outwards already. She rubbed the wet towel between my legs, through my pubic hair, increasing the damp friction on my cunt. She came back with a warm handful of shaving cream and lathered me up. And produced a safety razor. “Oh, please, be careful. Mistress!” I added quickly as an afterthought. “Don’t squirm” she said. She knelt to her work and began to scrap off my pubes. Then a warm wipe with the towel. More lather. Another swipe with the razor. The hot water in between stung my newly denuded pussy, but the shaving cream felt simultaneously cool and warm. Soon I was complete bare, and wiped clean. “Smooth as a little girl’s”, she said. She dispensed with her utensils, and knelt between my legs. Now I was truly nude, still spread wide and restrained. Her tongue ran along where the razor had so recently bared me. Her hands grasped my ass, and pulled me towards her. Her tongue danced among the folds of my pussy. My clit, and back inside me, slowly, teasingly. Slow, then a little faster, then slow again. I surprised myself…in an amazingly short time I was coming, waves of pleasure radiating out. I felt like a star that had just exploded. I panted. She stood up. “And of course, after the shave, comes…the after shave.” She went to the mirror and picked up a bottle from the table. In the illumination from the light bulbs it glowed green. She cupped her hand and poured a little into it, near my face. Alcohol. Antiseptic. It stung my nostrils, and I could already imagine what it would feel like on my freshly shaved mound. “No, please!” I cried. She put her hand between my legs, cupped my mound, and rubbed it in. A stinging, followed by a hot wave like I couldn’t believe. “Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!” I screamed. “You bitch!” A silence filled the room. “What did you call me?” “I’m sorry, M-mistress.” I half sobbed. She poured another handful of green liquid fire. Annointed my nipples with it. Then my clit. I felt cool where it had touched, three erect points, cleansed with antiseptic. Clamp. Clamp. Clamp. I opened my mouth, but vented only a silent howl. Slowly the wave subsided. My pussy still tingled. My nips and clit felt the bite of the metal. The chair suddenly tiled back, back, leaving me almost horizontal, my legs up in the air, my shaven and oh-so-antiseptic pussy gaping skyward. She straddled the chair, from behind. Her knees on either side of my head, she lowered herself, until she was sitting on my face. Her ass above my forehead. Her sopping wet pussy slowly doing a descending, circular grind onto my mouth. “Eat!” she commanded. And I did. My world was filled with her cunt. It filled my face, my mouth, my nostrils, and even the sounds of my mouth working on it filled my ears. Meanwhile, her hair brushed my chest, and her hands squeezed my tits. Hard. One of the clips fell off in the process. But it didn’t bring much relief. My tongue labored to please her. And it took a long time. She was obviously loving it, the way she rocked my face. But she was taking her own sweet time coming, and she didn’t have any place to be. I had to work long and hard to bring her off. At last, her cries became more frenzied. My mouth was filled with her tart taste. She squeezed my breasts in time with her spasms. She climbed off. She cradled my head, kissed me on the lips, her tongue lingering across my face, playing in her own moisture. “You did wonderful. But…you did call me bitch.” I opened my mouth…and said nothing, waiting. “See you in the morning.” She walked towards the door, heels clacking. It occurred to me that she had been fully clothed the whole time. She had a magnificant figure, but I could see no more than its outline beneath her red skirt and white blouse. “No mistress! Don’t leave me here all night!” There was a small electic whine as she switched on some appliance. A small vibrator, I learned, as she slid it into my wet pussy. I grunted. “Oh, don’t worry, this thing’s batteries will run down in an hour or so…” She looked at my wide eyes in mock concern. “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll be perfectly safe. Well, about six months ago we did have a break-in here, but what are the chances of that happening tonight of all nights? I bet if they found you here though they’d forget all about the cash register.” She smiled wickedly. “But I’m sure that won’t happen. I’ll be by first thing in the morning. At least, I *think* I have the morning shift tomorrow. I’ll have to check the calendar when I get home. Otherwise, well, I guess Sally will be the one to find you. Won’t she be surprised! Sweet dreams!” Clack clack clack went her heels. Click went the lightswitch. I found myself in darkness. The door opened, shut, a clank of blinds, she turned the key in the lock. Silence. Dark. Gradually I became aware of the clicking of the electric clock on the wall, and the dim illumination of the neon band around it. There I lay…strapped firmly into the tilted chair. Stark naked, but for various undergarments pooled around ankles and elbows. Goosebumps from the chill air conditioning. A metal clip on one nipple and my clit. A dildo humming away in my snatch. Pussy freshly shaved and still stinging. And my face damp from my Mistress’ pleasure. 11 pm. It was going to be a long night. “Rumplestilskin” I said in a small voice. The End