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The Hairdresser
by Mature Lover
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© Copyright 2009 - Mature Lover - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/m; bond; straps; rope; gag; cupboard; reluct; X
jpn
The Hairdresser by Mature Lover F/m; bond; straps; rope; gag; cupboard; reluct; X
 

At the age of nineteen I was still living at home with my parents and I therefore knew a number of their friends and social contracts.

One friend of my mother, who I would place in her mid-fifties (the friend, not my mother) ran a hairdressing business from her home and after the local barber had made a bit of a mess of my hair at my previous visit, my mother suggested that I may like to go to her friend next time. My mother pointed out that while her friend did mainly cut women’s hair she had a number of male clients also.

As a nineteen year old I felt a little embarrassed about visiting a hairdresser but I thought I would be doing the lady (Penny was her name) a favour so I agreed to give it a go.

I made the appointment for 2pm the next Saturday. I went for a later one as my parents were away for the weekend visiting my older sister and I intended to take advantage of this to have a good lie in on the Saturday morning. Penny said it was no problem as she worked all day most Saturdays.

Saturday came and after enjoying my lie in in peace followed by a bath and some lunch I made my way to Penny’s house. I decided to walk as it was a great day and arrived bang on time for my appointment.

‘Hello Gary’ she said, ‘you’re very punctual, come in.’

As ever Penny was well dressed in a t-shirt type top and slightly longer than knee length skirt. She looked fairly attractive for a woman of her age. She was about 5’ 3’’ tall, a little wide at the hip and meaty at the thigh and with decent cleavage. Her face was slightly more attractive than average and she wore fairly heavy make up. She and her husband had divorced a few years ago and her children had left home so she lived alone in the house that doubled as her salon.

I had been to her house on errands for my mother but had never previously been inside so she briefly showed me around. She offered me a cup of coffee but I declined which turned out to be a good idea.

She then showed me to the room where she cut hair. There was a comfortable chair there but she actually pointed me to a chair that looked more like on office chair with plastic arms and which was on castors, I am sure you know the type. She said this was because she could lower this chair to enable her to reach properly when cutting men’s hair. The other comfortable chair was for ladies who tended to spend longer having their haircut in any case.

I sat down and she went to work combing my hair. She did not put an apron over me as happened in the barbers but I put this down to the fact that things were probably done differently in hairdressers’ salons. After a couple of minutes combing she began to cut my hair. Inevitably some pieces of hair began to slip down my neck into my t-shirt and my back was soon itching quite badly. I moved around a little try to rub my back against the chair to relieve the itching but Penny asked me to stop as it was making her work difficult. I apologised and tried to sit still but soon I was rubbing my back against the chair again.

‘I am sorry Gary but I can’t cut your hair if you are moving about like that’ she said. ‘If you don’t sit still I will have to do something about it’

‘I am sorry Penny’ I apologised ‘but my back is really itching’.

‘Okay’ she said, ‘I can do something to sort the problem’

Thinking she was going to get something to stop the itching I relaxed a little but she came back carrying what looked like two luggage straps.

‘Sit up straight against the back of the chair’ she instructed and once I had done so she fastened one of the straps across my chest and around the back of the chair. She then pulled hard on the strap and I am sure I could feel her knee pressed against the back of the chair. Whatever she had done the strap was very secure and I could hardly move my chest at all. She repeated the process with the second strap at my waist, again it was tugged extremely tight and my torso was held rigidly to the chair back.

‘That should stop you moving around, I wouldn’t want to cut you with the scissors’ she remarked. I have to say that her actions struck me as a little strange but I was too polite to say anything, she was my mother’s friend after all.

She continued to cut my hair and chat away but I was still tormented by my itching back. Soon I could stand it no more and I tried to move up and down by using my feet to gain leverage against the ground. This did meet with partial success but Penny immediately said that she could not work like this. Again she disappeared but this time she came back carrying some rope. She asked me not too politely to lift my feet backwards and she proceeded to tie my ankles together behind the stem of the chair that connected the seat to the castor system at its base. Her idea was clearly to stop my feet from touching the ground and she made doubly sure that they could not by tying another length of rope up from the first length, over the chair seat behind my lower back and then down the other side. My legs were now suspended in the air, I could move them up a little but not down at all.

‘Now please stay still’ she said, ‘at this rate I will not have you finished before my next appointment arrives’.

Again she started cutting and chatting but once more the itching soon became unbearable. This time my only option was to try to scratch my back with my hands. I had of course already half guessed the consequences of this action and sure enough she gave a big sigh and put down her scissors.

‘Put your wrists in front of you’. This time it sounded almost like a command. My politeness and shyness ensured that I complied. She wrapped the rope around and then across my wrists to cinch the knot before repeating the process. She then took the ends of the ropes and wrapped them around my thighs a few times before taking the rope under the chair and tying the ends off very firmly and tightly. My wrists were bound tightly together but were also tied down tight to my legs so that I was forced to sit there with my hands resting on my lap. My legs were also tied down to the chair seat. I tested the bonds gently (I still did not wish to upset her) but there seemed to be no slack at all.

‘I am sorry Penny but is this really necessary?’ I asked her.

‘Gary, I want to make a good job of your hair and I cannot if you are moving about continuously’ she replied.

‘But this is a little uncomfortable and I can hardly move at all.’

‘I have no time to argue, I have other appointments I need to keep’.

‘Please Penny’ I said in slight desperation, ‘I promise I will sit still’.

‘That’s it’ she stated, ‘I need silence or I will never get finished’.

For the third time she disappeared and once more I had an uncomfortable feeling as to what was about to happen. However I thought that I would take advantage of her absence to try my best to get out of the ropes and straps which held me. I pulled as hard as I could with my arms but they hardly moved away from my legs at all. The only consequence seemed to be that the knots tightened further. I then tried getting my hands out of the ropes but there was no chance. The knots also seemed to all be tied out of the reach of my fingers which seemed to be something of a coincidence.

My lower legs could move up a little but this was of no use whatsoever. I could not reach the ground at all and neither could I move my body away from the chair back.

In short I was stuck fast.

It was about to get worse. Penny returned again carrying what looked like a pair of pantyhose in one hand and a roll of tape in the other.

‘Sorry to have kept you but I knew I had a roll of masking tape in the back of one of my drawers somewhere’ she said in a matter of fact voice. She then put the tape down before separating the pantyhose; it turned out that she held two pairs.

‘I am afraid that these are the pairs of pantyhose that I wore on Thursday and yesterday. I’ll have to wash these anyway and I can’t be bothered dirtying some clean pairs. I know that the weather has been warm this week but I always prefer to wear pantyhose even in hot weather as it just looks better. I fear however that these may be a little, shall we say- stickier, than normal.’

With that she balled up the first pair and pushed it into my mouth. I was by this time too shocked to react. The second pair was also balled up and pushed in after the first filling my mouth up more or less completely. ‘Now close your mouth’ she commanded and once I had complied she proceeded to wrap the masking tape across my lips. She then kept going wrapping the tape tightly around the lower part of my head five times (I had nothing else to do but count them) before finally tearing the tape. She then took her hand and pressed the tape down over my face. There was no way that lot was coming off and therefore no way I was going to get the pantyhose out of my mouth. It already tasted quite salty no doubt the result of each pair having been on Penny’s legs for sixteen hours at a time in very warm weather.

She then proceeded to finish cutting my hair while chatting to me about everyday things. I did not really listen to her as I was still too stunned by what had happened. My mother’s friend had just tied me very tightly and expertly to a chair and had then gagged me with her dirty pantyhose. She was now cutting my hair as though there was nothing in the least unusual in this. Surreal was not the word.

She finished cutting my hair but at that moment there was the sound of a car pulling up outside.

‘Oh no, my next customer is early.’ A car door slammed. ‘I’ll never get you untied in time and I can’t let you be seen like this. It will be awfully embarrassing for both of us. I’ll have to hide you.’

I could hear footsteps.

‘This will have to do’ she said and pushed me towards the stairs. In common with many houses of that era the area under the stairs had been turned into a storage cupboard. She opened the cupboard door and pushed the chair and of course its occupant in. There was just enough room if she turned the chair so that my head was under the higher part of the stairs.

‘The problem is that I won’t be able to get you out there while there is someone here, they are bound to see you’ she said, as much to herself as to me.

‘Sorry, unintentional pun there.’ She smiled at me.

‘Hopefully I will get a gap between one customer leaving and the next one arriving so that I can let you out. Now please don’t make any loud noises, it will be so embarrassing for you and very bad for my business if you are discovered.’

The doorbell rang and she closed the cupboard door.

I was left sitting in almost complete darkness. My face was just an inch away from the back of the steps. It was a warm day and therefore it was warm in the cupboard. I could hardly move other than my head and fingers. The salty pantyhose was beginning to dry my mouth out and my back was still itching although not quite as badly as earlier. Outside I could just make out muffled voices, Penny’s and that of her customer. It was of course possible that I knew her customer and I just could not face that embarrassment. Although I was gagged and behind a cupboard door I was sure that I would still be heard if I yelled loud enough but I was silenced by my sense of shame.

I soon began to lose track of time. I could still hear voices and then the doorbell went again. This meant that the next appointment had arrived and I had still not been let out. I guessed the appointments took an hour each at least so that meant another lengthy spell in the cupboard. I was very glad that I had refused Penny’s offer of a drink as my bladder was fine but obviously it was going to trouble me eventually. I tried to pass the time by quietly struggling with my bonds but I got nowhere. Penny seemed to be an expert at this.

More talking outside, more futile tugging and twisting, another doorbell, at this rate I was going to be here all afternoon. I had plans to meet a few friends for a couple of beers that night but I felt certain that Penny’s last appointment would be no later than five o’clock. She normally went out to the local with a group of friends (including my parents) on Saturday evening and I was sure she liked to take her time getting ready; she always looked classy on those occasions.

Time drifted but after a long while it occurred to me that I could no longer here any voices and that I had not heard any for some time. Then I heard footsteps going up the stairs above me. Nothing again for a while then footsteps coming down the stairs. Again nothing then the telephone rang. Penny’s muffled voice talking to someone then more silence. Then that sound the pipes often make when the bath is being run. The pipes way well have run through ‘my’ cupboard. Was Penny taking a bath, why did she not let me out and untie me? I finally decided to risk calling out, not too loudly

‘Mmmph mmmph mmmph’

No response.

‘MMMPH MMMPH MMMPH’

Nothing.

Perhaps she has forgotten about me I thought and now cannot hear me as the bath is running. I tried again and then gave up for a while. The noise of the pipes stopped.

‘MMMPH MMMPH MMMPH MMMPH MMMPH MMMPH MMMPH’

No response whatsoever.

I tried to rock from side to side in an effort to get the chair to fall over but I had no leverage and nothing really happened at all. I racked by brains for a way out but could come up with nothing.

After another lengthy period punctuated by ‘Mmmphs’ of frustration as I struggled futily I was beginning to worry. What if she had forgotten me or what if something had happened to her? I could die of thirst in here in a few days. I struggled with all my might but it was completely useless. I was in that cupboard until Penny or someone else let me out.

After what I could only guess was another half an hour the cupboard door was opened. I blinked against the light and eventually made out Penny standing there. She looked good, very good. She was dressed for her night out and had applied her make up excellently. Even so I was annoyed. Was she going to apologise for forgetting about me?

She gave me a grin of delight.

 ‘I have a confession to make to you; what I had hoped for has worked out perfectly’ She actually clapped her hands together in delight.

‘I have been thinking about this ever since you made your appointment with me. I deliberately did not put the usual apron on you to give me an excuse to tie you up. I knew you would itch like crazy and that you would probably be too polite to say anything at first; you are a well brought up boy after all.

‘I timed the cutting of your hair to ensure that I finished just as my next appointment turned up and I put you on the office chair so that I could wheel you into the cupboard without problem. I had already cleared the cupboard to leave a space for you and I guessed that you would be too embarrassed to call out if you knew I had another customer with me.

‘I did hear you calling a while ago but I just ignored it. Besides I wasn’t going to get out of my bath just because you were probably become a little uncomfortable.

‘You are probably wondering why I have done all this. Am I mad? Well perhaps it is a form of madness but I get a huge kick out of tying men up and leaving them to struggle for hours and hours. It really turns me on.’ Her eyes were positively twinkling as she said this. ‘You have been in this cupboard for almost five hours now so you can imagine how I have been enjoying myself.’

‘My husband and I separated because I loved to do this to him but he did not really enjoy it. After one weekend when I kept him bound and gagged for over 48 hours he decided he could not stand it any longer and soon after he left me. A couple of boyfriends since then also wanted nothing to do with it and men are not so easy to come by at my age so I decided to take matters into my own hands with you.

‘I have watched grow into a handsome young man and when the chance came to capture you I could not resist taking it. So here you are my tightly tied prisoner. You will have noted that years of experience have resulted in me being quite expert in the art of tying people up; there is no chance of you getting free without help.’

I could not argue with her on that one having spent hours trying.

‘I have loved cutting people’s hair this afternoon and making small talk knowing that I have you tied up in my cupboard all the time; it was been SUCH a turn on. I am now going to leave you there while I go out with ‘the gang’ knowing that when I get home you will be sitting in the cupboard exactly where I left you and I will be able to amuse myself with you as I wish. My God, the very thought of it is driving me wild right now.’

She paused for a few moments and her eyes seemed to glaze a little but she then gathered herself together.

‘I know that your parents are away so you will not be missed until tomorrow evening so I can keep you until at least tomorrow afternoon. I think that you will be too embarrassed to report me as you will be a bit of a laughing stock for letting a little old woman (old woman, how old was she – not in her sixties surely) like me overpower a six foot tall young man like you. I doubt whether you can be heard outside with that gag in your mouth in any case. And who knows, after experiencing what I have in store for you later you may even want to come back for more.’

I began to struggle and mmmph for all I was worth when I heard this. Not only was I not going out with the lads but it seemed that I was going to spend at least another three hours in this stuffy cupboard and then who knows what was going to happen. It seemed entirely possible that I would be in here for over a day.

‘You can struggle and shout for all you’re worth, I am not going to let you out. All you are doing is turning me on more and more and making it even less likely that I will let you go. My God’ again her eyes began to glaze and her voice became almost hoarse ‘I wish I could keep you in here forever as my plaything but I suppose I will have to let you go sometime tomorrow.’

There was the sound of a car horn outside.

‘Oh there’s my lift, must fly, I will see you in a few hours.’

With that she reached over and kissed my gagged mouth for what seemed like ages. She then closed the cupboard door again and once the front door had slammed all was silent in the house.

 

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19.06.09 | updated - 09.05.17

 

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