It’s Part Four of Lindsay Debout’s new adults-only short story. Today’s instalment starts with more fun at the hairdresser…
Slowly she put her arm back down on the chair and allowed Ricki to bind it in place, wrist and elbow. Heart hammering madly, she watched him walk slowly around to the other side. All she had to do to stop him was to draw back her arm. Which she should. Of course she should.
Don’t be insane! You don’t know anything about him, other than he’s a top-class hairdresser who’s very good at spotting business opportunities. For all you know he’s into scissor-blunting sadism.
And a shop full of people saw me come in. He knows that as well as I do. I’m as safe now as I was with Marcus this morning. Either one of them is stronger than me, and could do what they liked.
So what harm can it do to let the fantasy run on a little longer?
She didn’t move. Ricki gently lifted her hand from her breast, held it against the other arm of the chair and strapped it in place.
Now I really am helpless. I really can’t stop him doing whatever he likes. Why did I let him do it? What is he going to do next?
What Ricki did next, was to leave the room. Lydia heard him lock the door. She was alone. Immobile. Helpless. Exposed.
Where’s he gone? What’s he doing? Is he going to leave me here? What’s he going to do to me?
Is this all there is?
Panic began to build, heavily laced with arousal. Lydia was confident she could trust Ricki. Even so, she’d never been in this position before. She hadn’t know about Ricki’s sexuality before.
What difference does that make? Knowing he’s bi doesn’t make him more or less likely to… She decided not to finish that thought. One other fact comforted her. He could have gagged me, but he didn’t. I can call for help any time. The door is solid, but not soundproof.
Several hours later, or so it felt, Lydia heard the door being unlocked and Ricki reappeared. He locked the door again behind him. “Sorry about that. I’ve arranged for Frederick to take over my four o’clock appointment. We’ve got until closing time at six.”
“You were gone ages! Why did you lock the door”
Ricki glanced up at the clock on the wall behind Lydia’s head. “Four minutes, to be precise. I locked the door because I didn’t think you’d want anyone else coming in while you’re tied up. So to speak. Now, where was I…” He put on a new pair of gloves and sat down again. Scooping up more cream, he went back to work.
Before long Lydia was moaning and wriggling on the chair, or at least as much as the straps would allow. Ricki ignored her. He carried on with his slow exploration of her most intimate places. She knew that her own moisture was trickling out of her, and that Ricki could see it. He had to know how aroused she was. He couldn’t not know. She couldn’t hide it from him.
At the end of his next circuit, Ricki circled her opening again, pressing against the rim so that she was very aware of his finger there. “Inside. Inside,” a voice urged in her head. It was only when she heard Ricki’s chuckle that she realised she’d said it out loud. Guilt flooded though her. She was begging a man to penetrate her. A man who wasn’t Marcus.
“I don’t think so,” replied Ricki. He must have realised that he’d goaded Lydia too far. Dipping a finger back into the jar, he coated it with more moisturiser and smoothed it directly over her clitoris. She jumped and gasped as if electrocuted, but Ricki wasn’t about to give her the release she craved that easily. He didn’t press hard, or fast. Instead he moved a fingertip in circles over her clitoris with a slow, steady, deliberate pressure.
Powerful currents flooded Lydia’s body, from her toes to her fingertips to her hair. She desperately wanted to squeeze her thighs together, press her hands to herself, anything to stop the slow torture and reach the climax that Ricki was skilfully keeping back from her. She could do none of those things. Modesty and shame both abandoned her. “Please. Please. Please,” she panted.
At last Ricki gave in. Gently he stroked up and down directly over the head of Lydia’s clitoris. Within seconds an orgasm sledgehammered its way into her. She writhed and shook on the chair, limbs straining against the straps while unimaginable pleasure surged through her body. It went on and on. Every time the climax started to ebb, Ricki’s steady, patient stroking brought it back to life.
In the end, Lydia’s own body called ‘time’. Suddenly her clitoris became too sensitive and she yelped. Ricki stopped at once, leaned back and stretched. “I think we both enjoyed that, Ms Martin! What would you like me to do for you now?”
Lydia felt shattered. She doubted if she’d be able to stand on her own. Weakly she shook her head, expecting Ricki to release her. Instead he leaned forward again. “I don’t think you need any more moisturiser. You’re providing plenty of that already.”
She assumed Ricki was going to stroke her folds again, so she jumped and gasped when his finger brushed over the tight hole further back. “No, don’t!” Again, he stopped. And waited.
Why did I stop him? Is it because I don’t want him to know I like it? Or is it because I don’t want it to be like it is with Marcus? It doesn’t stop with just stroking. It becomes a finger inside there, or a dildo. Or his cock, once. I’ve learned it’s better to do without rather than to have it spoiled.
Ricki exercised his mind-reading skills again. “I won’t be putting anything inside you there, Ms Martin. I don’t need to. Most of the pleasure comes from around the rim. Besides, you don’t have much choice, do you?” He winked at her, but Lydia knew he was teasing. At least, she hoped he was. Saying nothing, she relaxed back on the chair.
Ricki leaned forwards again and Lydia felt his finger brushing over the most private part of her body. He stroked around it and pressed against it, occasionally dipping just the tip of his finger inside. To her surprise, arousal began to build inside her again. She knew it felt nice when she stroked herself there, but she had never done it for long. Ricki was doing nothing else.
Lydia’s heart raced and her breathing grew ragged. A sheen of sweat sheathed her skin. The tingles were just as intense, yet different. The knowledge that she was completely in Ricki’s power added extra spice. Not even Marcus had examined her so intimately. Not even Marcus knew how much she enjoyed this most taboo of caresses. He was always in too much of a rush to get inside her.
Lydia quivered on the edge of orgasm for many minutes. She had never felt like this before, so she didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t know if she could climax from being stimulated in this way.
She could. The first pulse was gentle, but each successive one gripped her more strongly until she was shuddering violently on the chair. Knowing that Ricki had a clear, close-up view of her body as she lost control, made the orgasm even more powerful.
Even after the climax faded, Lydia’s whole body prickled with pleasure. “That was amazing,” she panted. “It’s never happened to me before.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” replied Ricki smugly. He stood up and stripped off the gloves. “I love making women feel good. And men too of course, but especially women. It’s easy to make a man come, not so easy for a woman. It takes time, which is why my special appointments are so long.”
“They’re not three hours long!”
He leered at her. “No, but you were being a naughty girl and needed to be punished. I didn’t hear you complaining.”
Lydia blushed. This was another secret she definitely wouldn’t be sharing with anyone else.
He looked up at the clock again. “It’s ten to five. We can call it a day if you like. Personally, I’m happy to work on you all the way to closing time.”
They stared at each other in silence. Lydia’s mouth was dry and her heart was pounding.
I shouldn’t still be here. I should be on my way home by now. Why am I still here? What’s he going to do now? What do I want him to do?
After some seconds, Ricki slowly smiled. “I haven’t gagged you, Ms Martin, and I’m not going to. Any time you want me to stop, just tell me. Until then…” He strolled slowly twice around the chair, staring down at Lydia. Planning his next move.
Extract from ‘Hair Day’ copyright Lindsay Debout 2015
The final part of Hair Day will be posted the day after tomorrow. To make sure you don’t miss it, follow my blog!