In Part Two, Lydia was coming along nicely under the guiding hand of hairdresser Ricki, and now it’s time for the next part of her treatment in Part Three of Lindsay Debout’s new adults-only short story, Hair Day…
When she finally had control of her body again, Lydia opened her eyes to see Ricki looking down at her. “Nice?” he asked archly, letting go.
It was impossible to be embarrassed in the face of a grin like that. Lydia giggled, still flushed. “Lovely. It feels different from coming any other way. More…” She struggled for words, then gave up and shook her head.
Ricki went back into ‘brisk businessman’ mode. “Time for your trim.”
Lydia was still suffering from embarrassment fatigue. Hoisting herself up, she pulled the gown up to her waist. Ricki raised the headrest, tipped back the chair until she was almost flat, then attached a set of examination stirrups to the frame.
Lydia’s mouth went dry. This was the bit that made her most… nervous. Call it nervous. Not excited. Gently Ricki lifted her legs and rested them in stirrups. She was fully exposed to him, but that wasn’t the reason her heart was fluttering. It was the straps that he produced from a drawer. “Can’t have you jumping around while I’m working down there with a sharp blade.”
He looped straps around each thigh and ankle so that her legs were held firmly against the padded frame, then turned on the lights and adjusted them so that Lydia’s groin was brightly illuminated.
He can do what he likes to me now. He could open the door and let everyone in to see me. Wheel me out into the street so that complete strangers could examine me. I couldn’t do anything about it.
It would never happen, Lydia knew that. Not only would it never occur to Ricki, she could stop him instantly. A word would be enough, even ignoring the fact that she could undo the straps herself.
Why does this turn me on so much? I’d never give up control in real life. Or is that the reason? Someone else taking control and making the decisions for once? Someone else to carry the can?
Ricki pulled on a pair of examination gloves, drew up a stool and settled himself between Lydia’s legs. She could see him studying her intently, and she shivered. He looked up. “Cold?”
Lydia blushed and shook her head. He knew perfectly well that temperature wasn’t the problem.
I love it when Marcus takes his time down there. He doesn’t have to tie my thighs apart, either. Yet somehow this is more… exciting. Ricki is going to do whatever he wants for as long as he wants and I can’t interfere.
I can, of course I can. I’m just not going to. Not yet, anyway.
“I need to check for spots or scratches, all right? Don’t want to be catching them with the razor.” Without waiting for an answer, Lydia felt him gently part her lips until she was fully open, then stroke and pinch along her folds. It was nothing less than exquisite foreplay. The fact that it wasn’t going to lead to anything more, was almost a relief. She could enjoy it for its own sake.
“All right, we’re good to go. Now for some shaving cream.” He opened a glass pot and scooped out some cream-coloured mousse. “This is my own recipe – lubrication without irritation. Tastes nice too, if you want to buy some for non-shaving purposes.”
Lydia jumped when the cool gel touched her skin, then she sighed and sagged back as Ricki began to massage it in. It didn’t sting or burn like ordinary shaving creams and foams. It was more like being rubbed with warm snow, if such a thing was possible.
Ricki put down the pot and picked up a fresh razor. “If you want to sneeze or cough or scratch, now’s the time. We don’t want any sudden movements or surprises while I’m working.” He waited a moment, then leaned forwards. “Okay, I’m going in.”
Lydia tried not to breathe. She had absolute faith in Ricki, but it was her nether regions that had a sharp blade running over them. Fortunately it took very few minutes before he leaned back again. “All done. Smooth as a baby’s bum, not that I’ve ever been that close to one.”
Lydia reached down and ran a hand over herself. Completely smooth, just as he’d said. It felt wonderfully sensuous, although at the cost of several days’ discomfort while the hair grew back. She was already looking forwards to showing Marcus.
Waiting naked on the couch when he gets home? Whenever that might be. Or wearing a nightie that I can casually lift to give him a quick flash? Or just let him find out for himself?
While Ricki used a damp cloth to wipe her clean, a different thought occurred to her. “Don’t you mind doing this to women?”
“Why should I mind?” replied Ricki, carefully wiping between Lydia’s delicate creases and folds.
“Well… I don’t think I could do it to a woman. A man, yes. Isn’t it the same for you?”
“Because I’m gay, you mean?” He got up to put the jar back, then took down another one.
“Well, yes. Don’t you find women’s… bits off-putting?”
Ricki settled down on his stool again. “No, not at all. I love women both in general and their ‘bits’, as you put it. I’m bisexual, not homosexual.”
Shocked, Lydia’s hands shot down to cover herself. All her assumptions had just been blown away. Her casual nudity in Ricki’s presence. Her willingness to… let herself go in front of him. Allowing him do such intimate things to her because after all, it doesn’t mean anything to him.
He looked up at her horrified expression, and chuckled. “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me. I make it a cast-iron rule never to get involved with clients. Now, do you want the moisturiser or not?”
Lydia kept her hands where they were. “Doesn’t Cedric get jealous?”
“He gets jealous when I do men, but I only have a couple of male clients for the all-inclusive.”
“Is he bisexual as well?”
“No, but he does like to watch.” He laughed out loud when Lydia’s jaw dropped. “Not here! We go to swingers’ clubs. You’d be amazed how many women are into threesomes with a gay couple. I guess they like to think they can turn a gay man straight. Cedric gets to watch me with a woman, then the woman gets to watch me with Cedric. Everybody’s happy.”
There was a moment’s silence while they stared at each other. Ricki broke it. “You’ve still got 45 minutes left. Do you want to leave now, or-” He held up the jar.
Do I want to leave now? What difference does it make that Ricki’s not gay? He’s no more likely to do anything… inappropriate now than he was five minutes ago. He’s already seen everything I’ve got. Only Marcus has seen more, and I wouldn’t get 45 minutes of uninterrupted foreplay from him.
Lydia pulled her hands back up. Ricki opened the new jar and scooped out a pale brown cream. “Cocoa butter and a few other ingredients.” Gently he smoothed it over Lydia’s freshly-shaved skin.
The pleasure that bubbled through Lydia was out of all proportion to the touch. Part of it was knowing that there was no excuse for it. She was already shaved. She didn’t need any other treatment. They both knew that the ‘moisturiser’ was just an excuse for more of Ricki’s foreplay.
Why do we go through this charade? Why do we have to pretend it’s just a beauty treatment? Why can’t I just say, ‘Bring me off please Ricki, and take your time about it’?
Because that would be crossing the line. That would be admitting it really is all about sex.
A new, extra frisson came from realising that she might actually be turning Ricki on. Up until now she had assumed that so far as he was concerned, she was just a piece of meat, a paying customer having a more extreme version of a shampoo and set. Now she realised that he might be getting more… sensual enjoyment out of it. Allowing him to examine her, to touch her, felt even more wicked than it had before. The fact that she was helpless to stop him doing whatever he wanted to her, only added to it. Don’t let the fact that I could stop him with ease spoil a good fantasy…
Whether or not he was aware of the change in atmosphere, Ricki was taking his usual care over his work. He gently massaged the cream into Lydia’s skin with his fingertips, careful to apply it to every fold and crease. Unlike with the shaving cream, he didn’t stop once she was fully coated. Instead he slowly drew his fingers up along one side of her lips, over the hood that barely covered the hard little pebble inside, and down the other side. At the bottom, he traced the very tip of his index finger around the entrance to her body, then drew it up around another circle of her lips.
You have to love your work to be this good at it! Lydia thought to herself as Ricki’s excruciatingly slow caresses fanned equally slow fire inside her. How could I possibly have thought he was gay? Her breasts ached so much, she had to clutch at them through the thin paper gown. Ricki glanced up at the sudden movement, smiled and went back to his delicate work.
The teasing got too much to bear. Lydia reached down and pressed a hand to her groin, trying to force the pleasure to a peak. Ricki grasped her wrist and firmly moved her hand back up again. “None of that, Ms Martin. We still have half an hour to go.” Lydia moaned and arched her hips, trying to press against his fingers, but that didn’t work either. He simply matched her movements.
The second time Lydia reached down and tried to press a hand against herself, Ricki grasped it again but didn’t let go. Reaching into the drawer, he pulled out more straps then held her arm down against the chair and started to bind it in place.
She yanked her arm out of his grasp. “What the Hell do you think you’re doing?”
Ricki looked at her with a half-smile, swinging the straps casually from one hand. His manner had changed. He wasn’t the friendly professional any more, simply doing whatever the customer wanted. Now, he was calling the shots. “I’m just making sure you do as you’re told, Ms Martin. While you’re in this room, I’m in charge. You knew that before you came in here, didn’t you? You knew it when you made the appointment in the first place, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”
Lydia stared at him wide-eyed. Yes, I did. Is that really why I’m here? Not to have my hair fussed, but for ninety minutes of fantasy every few weeks?
Extract from ‘Hair Day’ copyright Lindsay Debout 2015
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