The Man Behind the Chair

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Note: I wrote this story a few years back, and posted on 1hss.com (under Vicki). Recently, I came across it on my old laptop, and decided to share it here.

The Man behind the Chair
By Vicki (Buzzedgirl)

This story is based on an actual experience I had while on a trip out of town, with a healthy dose of fiction added. The names of the characters were altered to conceal their identities.

With her freshly highlighted sandy blond hair, overgrown past her chin, grazing her hazel eyes and begging to brush her shoulders, Penny nervously strolled the busy downtown streets in search of the intersection closest to the salon. The early spring air was refreshing and the temperature was warmer than usual, with a light breeze sweeping through the trees and buildings lining the streets. Penny did as she was instructed: she wore six inch black heels, a short black mini dress, a shiny black choker with imbedded pearls, bold red nail polish and finally, yet hesitantly, she agreed to wear no underpants. This would please her lover, and she knew it.
Glancing at her cell phone, she confirmed the time was 9:30 am. She was given the task of selecting a salon from a specified part of the city, one of the few decisions she was allowed to make. He only asked that her hair be cut exactly as he dictated and had supplied pictures of both the side, front and back views to ensure it was done as directed. Penny was excited, yet nervous at the prospect of such a request. While she did enjoy getting her hair done, it was usually styled as she wanted it, and although she enjoyed the thrill of going shorter, she did so incrementally and carefully, not venturing outside of her comfort zone…
The stylists that Penny had previously were always professional, never veering from her requests or suggesting anything edgy or too short. As she turned down a smaller, narrower side street, Penny spotted a flashy pink and purple neon sign advertising a new salon that she had encountered online. To her delight, they were open and according to their website, they took walk-ins. With enthusiasm, Penny skipped across the narrow street, dodging parked cars to make her way through the entrance.
She wasn’t familiar with this part of the city, though enjoyed the adventure of exploring it. From the inside, the salon was bright, cheerful with a couple of young ladies already tending to their clients as a friendly receptionist greeted her at the desk. She wore a layered asymmetrical bob that was black with a couple of purple streaks. It was striking against her tanned complexion and deep chocolate eyes. Her figure was short and petite, enveloped in a green, satin-like kimono-style dress with heeled sandals to match.
“Hi there hon, can I help you? Do you have an appointment with us today?” she asked with a smile.
“Oh yes, I’d like to have my hair cut and styled, but I don’t have an appointment,” Penny replied quickly. “Do you take walk-ins?”
“Yes we certainly do,” she said, pulling out the scheduling book. “Unfortunately…we are fairly booked up today, so I’ll just check our schedule to see what availability we have for you.”
“Thanks,” Penny responded, hoping that there would be an opening. She watched eagerly as the receptionist thoroughly inspected each page, flipping carefully as she did.
“Well…,” she began. “I’m afraid we are booked solid today…and tomorrow too.” Seeing Penny’s slight frown of disappointment, she continued: “I’m sorry, usually we have some flexibility, but we’re unusually busy today. Would you like to leave your number? I could call you if we have a cancellation…or…I could give you our card.”
“Sure,” Penny chimed, trying to hide her displeasure. She offered a quick nod and smile after taking the card and left the salon feeling her heart sink a little. The lady at the reception desk was so cute, and the other two stylists working away were attractive and attentive, she thought. Placing the card inside her small silver purse, Penny decided to venture further down the same narrow road, hoping to find another salon she recalled seeing online as another option. It only took five minutes to find it. Unfortunately, it was closed for the day. How could I have not taken note of the hours? Penny felt a bit of panic along with her frustration. She decided to keep walking, noticing another intersection and cluster of trendy shops ahead. There must be something there, she thought.
Over the next hour, the closest place to a hair salon that Penny could find were two nail salons and a barber shop. Although she had often considered trying a barbershop, she did find them intimidating and would have preferred her lover to accompany her, dreading the day when he would dictate that she go there instead of a salon. He had a way of controlling her, of influencing her, persuading her to do things she would never consider on her own, or for anyone else. She feared that if there were no other options in sight soon, she would have no choice but to venture into the barbershop. Walking in her heels was taking a toll on her feet, as she was not accustomed to doing so for more than an hour at a time. There just had to be another option, she thought…
It was time to take a break, she decided, even if only for fifteen minutes. She would take in the area while sipping a latte on the patio of a coffee shop and do some people watching. Perhaps another search on her cell phone’s browser would provide some more options. Penny spotted a European café with a decent selection of coffees and decided to take a rest, when she suddenly noticed a tiny salon across the road. At that moment, her eyes lit up with the idea of finding a place suited just for her. I’ll take my coffee break after with my lunch, she thought. It was getting close to 11 am.
Crossing the busy street, Penny looked inside the salon, which appeared to be nearly vacant, yet it was open. No clients were visible. There was a very pretty lady with long, chestnut wavy hair sweeping the floor of hair trimmings when she entered the small shop. There were two older men sitting in the back of the shop conversing in strong European accents. The lady quickly noticed Penny’s entrance and came over to her.
“Good morning,” she greeted. “I’m Valerie. Do you have an appointment?” She had a natural beauty, with long dark eyelashes and a curvy, well-proportioned body and wore a long denim skirt and vintage blouse.
“No, I didn’t make an appointment,” Penny replied, expecting to be met with the same response as the previous salon. “I was just walking by and decided to check this place out. Do you take walk-ins?” It was at this moment, that one of the men seated in the back quickly quieted his conversation, stood up, and walked to the front of the shop. He was tall, slender, with short dark brown hair with a generous amount of silver running through it. As he approached, Penny felt nervous; she immediately realized that he was the owner and wanted to ensure that his clients received the best service. The young lady politely stepped aside as he neared. The second man seated in the back was heavier set and watched closely as his colleague approached the women.
“You want a haircut?” he asked abruptly, catching Penny off guard. Valerie smiled and waited for Penny’s response, because she hesitated at first.
“Yes,” she said finally and firmly. “Yes, I’m here for a haircut, and I brought pictures of the style I would like.” Just saying that made her quiver. The very mention of getting her hair done was both nerve-wracking and exciting at the same time. Valerie seemed acquainted with the tall gentleman’s forwardness.
“Good,” he responded. “When would you like to have it done? Right now?”
“Sure,” Penny answered, looking to Valerie for support. She noticed the lady had now moved back from her and quietly disappeared into the back. It would be nice to have her cut my hair, Penny thought, noticing how elegant and gentle she made her way around the salon.
“Very well then,” said the man, now smiling. “Right now, ok? I cut your hair.” Wow. Penny didn’t expect him to be that forward. “Show me your pictures?” Nearly dropping her purse, Penny’s trembling hands fumbled through its contents to pull out a neatly folded printout out showing an extreme inverted bob in three pictures: the first, depicted a long front just past her chin and long, side-swept bangs; the second picture showed the sides sharply angling over the ears, exposing the earlobes beneath the curtain of hair and the final picture showed a weight line just above the tops of the ears in the back with a closely clippered nape. This was a style that Penny’s lover had wanted her to try for months now. After almost two months of continuous persuasion, discussion and finally, an ultimatum, she agreed to get it done today.
Looking at the pictures, the man grinned, then glanced back at Penny to catch her reaction.
“Edgy,” he said. “Very…edgy. You like this?”
“Y-yes,” she replied, sensing his interest in the choice of style.
“Let’s give you a shampoo and treatment first, ok?” he offered. “Scalp massage too. I’ll give you a discount.” Penny nodded and followed him to the back of the salon, where the pretty lady waited patiently to commence the shampooing, conditioning and massaging. Penny laid back and enjoyed Valerie’s delicately shaped, yet strong and vigorous fingers working diligently throughout her hair. As she leaned back, her legs spread apart slightly, and it was at that moment she realized her lack of panties may be revealed. Sit still, she thought…don’t move, just enjoy the shampoo…
During the relaxing process, Penny closed her eyes in delight of Valerie’s touch. She enjoyed this procedure so much, that she quickly forgot about her legs’ possibly exposing her nakedness under the short black dress. It wasn’t until the man’s voice broke the stream of calmness, that the stroking and fondling of her scalp and hair was interrupted, that Penny’s eyes immediately popped open.
“You have tattoos,” announced the man, standing directly in front of Penny and slightly to the one side. If her crotch was exposed, even slightly, he would be able to see it right then and there.
“Yes, I do,” she replied, realizing that the dress did a great job of displaying her rose buds on her ankle and an armband of flowers.
“Are they addictive? Do you enjoy getting your body tattooed?” he asked. Penny couldn’t believe the questions he was asking.
“Yes…sure, kind of,” she said, trying to savour the final massage treatment. “I like having them…getting them, yes.” Valerie deeply conditioned and massaged Penny’s hair and scalp. It was obvious to Penny, that the man had been there the whole time, watching her, taking in her delight and how much she relished the washing, conditioning and massaging process, until it was complete.
“You’re all done, and ready for me,” he announced, slapping his hands together and rubbing them swiftly. “Come this way…” She nervously followed him to his station, and on the way, noticed that the other man had seated himself just two chairs away from her, observing her as well. Valerie remained further back, though kept a close watch over Penny too. Could they tell? Penny wondered to herself: can they tell that I have a hair fetish?
As quickly as she sat down, the man adorned her with a shiny black cape and pumped up the chair slightly. He began running his fingers through her hair. Penny clasped her sweaty, nervous palms together under the cape, realizing how close they were to providing her with pleasure. Oh no, I couldn’t do that, she thought, he would know for sure…
After a few moments of playfully stroking and caressing her hair, the man moved in front of Penny, as she faced the mirror, and pulled out a kit of tools. He slowly and deliberately placed the kit on a table beside Penny, so that she could watch him unfold the flaps of the case, displaying all of his tools, as a surgeon would do to prepare for a procedure. All of the scissors, combs, clips and other accessories were in full view. He selected a couple of items, quickly making his way behind Penny, and began to comb and cut the length of her hair in the back. She could see chunks of her sandy blond hair tumbling around her shoulders, sliding further down and onto the floor. The man worked efficiently, snipping the scissors loudly and purposely enhancing the slicing of the blades. Penny’s eyes were wide with anticipation. She kept perfectly still, including her hands below the cape, ensuring that her secret fetish would remain hidden.
After a lot of cutting in the back, the man slowed down as he moved to either side of Penny, gently and carefully trimming the sides and front to shape the angle. The bangs and front length required minimal trimming. He returned briefly to the back to cut some more. Once again, the shears sent flakes of hair flying about Penny’s head. She anxiously wondered exactly how short the back would be.
With a thorough brushing around her neck to remove any stray hairs, the stylist moved in front of Penny. He watched her expression as she stared into the mirror, knowing she would want to see the back of her head.
“Let me show you the back,” he suggested, grabbing a smaller mirror for her to hold, as he spun the chair in the opposite direction. She looked at the style, and noticed that it resembled closely the picture of the cut she had requested. It was similar, only done with scissors over comb. She smiled to show her approval, not wanting to disappoint the man. He watched her very intently.
“You like it?” he asked finally, allowing her to thoroughly inspect it before inquiring.
“Yes, it’s nice,” she replied. “It looks good.”
“You think so?” he asked, walking around her now, with his eyes fixed on her, not moving his head away, but wanting to see her facial reaction and body language at this time. “You really like it?” he asked again.
Why was he so insistent on asking me twice? Penny wondered right then what he was thinking. What did he expect her to say next? Had he figured something out about her that she would rather not divulge? This strange man in an unfamiliar part of a big city…what could he possibly figure out about her?
He stopped walking around Penny, now positioned behind the chair, staring back at her through the mirror. Then, very slowly, and unexpectedly, he bent down so that his face was next to hers and his mouth adjacent to her ear, now being exposed by his skilled fingers by pushing the longer front hair forcefully behind her ear.
“I know what you really want,” he said. Penny gulped. “You want to go shorter, don’t you?” He knew. Yes…he totally knew, she thought. Her fetish was not a secret to him. She blushed immediately, then with a slightly shaky voice, replied: “Yes, please…I want it…shorter…please, cut it shorter.” He smiled and placed his hands firmly on her caped shoulders, as if to congratulate her on revealing what he had already figured out. After decades of hairstyling, how could he not have known?
Once again, the stylist disappeared behind Penny, fumbling through another set of drawers where he pulled out a set of clippers, walking in front of her and plugging them into an outlet before her eyes. With a devilish grin, he turned Penny in the chair, facing her away from the mirror and switched the clippers on. She nearly jumped and felt a warming, moistening sensation between her legs. It had been gradually stirring though now it became intense. Her quivering legs, trembling hands could no longer hide this sensation from the man. He enjoyed seeing her vulnerable arousal climbing to a peak. With his firm hand spread open, he clasped the crown of Penny’s head firmly, and forcefully pushed her head down so that she stared down at her caped lap…trembling…
The clippers had no guard on them and she could feel the slow and deliberate strokes of the passes beginning from below her hairline up to the tops of her ears in the back. He was carving the nape free hand, tapering it to the skin. Flakes of sandy tresses rained down once again; along with the firm positioning and shearing of her locks, Penny finally reached the stage of orgasm…slightly moaning as she did, knowing that if she dared to move, the custom shaping of her nape clippering would not equate what the stylist had in mind. He would have to shear her further to even out any inconsistencies if she flinched. Her eyes closed and she stifled another moan, hoping to preserve at least some subtlety in her reaction.
When the clippering was complete, a brief silence followed. Penny opened her eyes and was slowly spun around to meet with her reflection again. I’ll just remain still, she thought, wanting to savour what she had just experienced, and at the same time, minimizing her body’s response to the event…but he already knew….
Once again, the stylist produced the mirror and proudly displayed Penny’s sheared nape to her in the larger mirror’s reflection. She gasped at how closely shorn it was, that she couldn’t resist touching it. Then she rubbed it a bit more as though she was inspecting it. When she lowered her hands, that’s when the stylist stood behind her again, this time reaching with his strong, skillful fingers to repeat what she had just done.
“Feel this,” he said, now massaging and rubbing her nape. “Very sexy.” The moistening and quivering between her legs returned as he intensified his touch, becoming more rough….now squeezing it…causing her to jump. Penny gasped and reached up to stop him, though before she could, he finished with couple of sharp pinches in the back. Astonished, she stood up from the chair, feeling shaky and a bit weak from the whole experience. The stylist’s colleague and the pretty lady in the back were fixated on her the entire time. She felt strangely exposed, yet pleasantly relieved at the same time. Walking to the front reception, she realized that the payment was significantly reduced in price. She paid with a generous tip and knew that her lover would approve, as he had provided the means to take care of everything. Returning to a more professional tone, Penny thanked the staff and wished them a good day, exiting the salon with all three pairs of eyes following her as she left.
It was nearly half past noon and Penny was ready for lunch. She opted for a nearby European cafe. Walking in the direction of the restaurant, she could feel a light breeze blowing against her newly exposed neck, lifting the longer sides of her hair in the front, and playfully tossing them around. She smiled and felt a vibration from her phone. It was her lover. He wanted to meet in an hour. Lunch would be quick. Her excitement grew, knowing that he would be pleased. Knowing that the man behind the chair had given her the very style her lover had worked so hard to persuade Penny to get, and in turn, she would be passionately rewarded.

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