A Quic Trim

Near Boston Harbor, adjacent to the Financial district, there was a rather

unique

and

special

barber. He specialized in services not usually rendered by any other of his profession. By day, assorted account executives, brokers and the like, from various high-power financial titans would march into his little out-of-the-way barber shop, all looking for a quick trim on their lunch breaks.

All

of his clients were obnoxious and rather oblivious. When they entered, each one had a Wall Street Journal or The Financial Times folded and tucked under their arms. They would take an available seat in his undersized waiting area, open their papers, and read in total silence. When called, they'd park themselves in his chair, grumble a styling order as if reading from a Chinese menu, then return to whatever financial article that absorbed their attention. None ever requested anything challenging or out of the ordinary -- never anything more detailed than "short on the sides and back."

This was Gabriel's typical day.

At night, a

very

select

clientele would enter his shop... and always with very

specific

requests. No, they were a whole different breed, as well as gender, and they were

never

there of their own accord. All of them had been

explicitly

instructed to obtain his... correctional and grooming services. They were all instructed to be at his shop at a

specific

date, a

specific

time, attired in a

very specific

way...

Of course, it was his evening clientele that kept the shop financially afloat; his evening services were expensive. Quality dominant services were rare! And yet, he had a profound sense of pride in being able to supply his services that were well sought-after.

-- -- --

British Airways Flight 203 from London-Heathrow landed at Logan International Airport on-time and on schedule. Considering the usual airline traffic that flowed in and out of Logan, it was actually somewhat of a miracle. Kelly quickly made her way through the concourse toward the baggage claim area, carrying her purse and a rolling carry-on bag behind her. Her bangs occasionally fell into her eyes, but she would shake her head to the side, temporarily removing the visual obstruction.

At the bottom of the escalator to baggage claim area, there was a lone chauffeur holding a small sign with only her first name on it. She stepped off and approached him. He was a tall, rail-thin man with a boyish face and a smile to match. She had been previously instructed to locate him and give the baggage claim stubs. He greeted her with a tip of his black cap and said, "Welcome to Boston, ma'am," in a heavy New England accent. He quickly followed with, "How many bags do you have, and what color are they?" Kelly politely answered.

The chauffeur found her two suitcases and proceeded out of the baggage area to the curb. Kelly quick-stepped to keep up with his long stride. Outside, there was black limousine double-parked at the curb. The chauffeur opened the back door, then politely gestured for Kelly to enter. Once seated, he closed the heavy door, then immediately attended to her luggage. As if they were as light as feathers, he hoisted each suitcase with ease and placed them gently into the trunk and shut the lid.

The limousine eased away from the curb and departed the airport, speeding off toward downtown Boston. After a short 20 minute ride, the limo turned into Copley Square, then up to the front entrance of the Westin Copley Place Hotel. With as much ease as before, the driver retrieve Kelly's luggage from the trunk. He carried the bags inside, and all the way to the front desk, where he announced her name to the awaiting clerk. He lightly settled the suitcases on the marble floor and waited for the clerk to attend her before giving a courteous bow and making his departure.

The clerk typed on his keyboard, smiled, then said, "All of your expenses have been covered Miss." He quickly processed a magnetic room key, and placed it into a paper sleeve. "Oh!... Just a moment..." he ducked beneath the counter and retrieved a large black box wrapped in red ribbon. He handed her the box and added, "This has been awaiting your arrival. Careful -- it's heavy!" Kelly wrestled with the large dress box; it was much heavier than it looked. The clerk snapped his fingers, summoning the attention of the bellboy. In a soft voice, he whispered her room number to him as he handed over the key card. The bellboy promptly picked up Kelly's suitcases and escorted her to the elevators.

-- -- --

The lock disengaged and the bellboy pushed the door open with his foot. Kelly entered the room behind him and immediately noticed a wonderful fragrance. Placed on the desk was a large vase with two dozen red roses and stargazer lilies. She laid the heavy dress box at the end of the bed, then stepped up to the vase, bent forward and inhaled. Behind her, the bellboy had set her suitcases next to the closet door. Clearing his throat to draw her attention, the bellboy handed her the key card. Kelly instinctively started to dig through her purse, looking for her wallet. "No tip ma'am. That's already been covered." She smiled and thanked him. As the bellboy excused himself, Kelly leaned in for another whiff from the flower arrangement.

She stopped indulging herself and returned to the bed. She slid the box aside and sat down next to it at the end of the bed. For a moment, all she could do was to stare at it. Finally, she pulled the ribbon loose. She lifted the lid and found a folded, hand-written letter lightly taped to tissue paper that concealed the remaining contents of the box. The note read:

My Love,

Be freshly showered, dressed and waiting in the hotel lobby at precisely 7pm. The limousine will return to pick you up and take you to your appointment. Once there, immediately hand the envelope labeled 'Gabriel' to the shop owner. From that point, you are to follow his instructions as if I have given them to you directly. I would highly recommend you not give him any trouble.

Appointment? -- appointment for what?

Kelly, looked into the box and saw a smaller, 4 by 5 inch envelope with the name "Gabriel" printed in script on the front. She picked up the sealed envelope, giving it a quick once-over, then returned to her letter:

Inside the gift box, you will find your attire for the evening. Wear only the clothing provided. Do not bring your purse, or anything more than what I have provided for you. These are Gabriel's requirements for service.

Setting the note aside, Kelly started to remove the contents of the gift box. It contained a lovely black corset with an ornate black inlay stitching and suspender straps. Next, she found a black bra, but no matching panties. Lightly setting those to the side, she next found calf-high black leather platform boots. The heels were easily 5 inches tall. The leather was glossy and soft to the touch. The boots had eyelets and laces running from the upper arch of the foot to the top of the boot with a long leather tongue inside. Returning to the box, the last item was a woman's trench coat. Kelly picked up the coat at the shoulders, stood and held it up in front of her. She turned the coat around and laid it over her body. She noted the length of the coat; just above her knees. She glanced back at the box -- there were no other garments. And then she realized that she would be going out barely covered and without anything from the waist, down. A mischievous smile crossed her face, but it covered a little trepidation building within her.

In the process of removing the coat, the small envelope for Gabriel flipped out of the box and onto the bed. She laid the coat down on the bed and picked the envelope. She flipped it one way, then the other, finally looking at the back. It appeared that the envelope had been poorly sealed and the glue had only adhered in a tiny spot. Kelly kept flipping it back and forth; focusing on the loose seal, then on the name "Gabriel" on the front. She thought to herself,

Who is Gabriel?

In the process of all this mechanical motion, what little grip the glue had finally gave way and the envelope sprung open. As if she were not alone, Kelly looked around the room as if looking to see if anyone else was watching. The inside of the envelope was lined in gold foil paper. Inside was a thick card, embossed all along the edge. Using the ends of her fingernails, she tugged on the card, pulling it out far enough to read what was printed on it.

The card had three sentences printed on it, all centered. It read:

Quick trim.

Unruly but manageable hair.

Number 1; Number 2.

Kelly thought

, Well, that makes no fucking sense at all, does it?!

Leaving the card dangling from the envelope, she turned the assembly to peek inside the envelope and on the back of the card. Nothing: no additional messages the card. Puzzled, she pushed the card back inside, licked at the tip of the flap and pressed it back into place. But there wasn't enough glue left to seal the envelope shut again. A little panic set in; Kelly

knew

she shouldn't touched Gabriel's note. She licked the tip again, but that still didn't change the fact the there was no glue left to activate. Panicking a little bit, she thought,

Out of sight, out of mind

. She took the envelope and slid the unsealed envelope into the inside pocket of the trench coat.

-- -- --

After a quick nap to knock the edge off her jet-lag, Kelly emerged from the elevator and stepped out onto the polished lobby floor. Her steps were made cautiously in her new boots. The bottoms were rubber-lined, adding an extra degree of grip and a small sense of security to her steps. She had her hands plunged deep into the outer pocks in a futile attempt to stretch the coat low over her legs. Holding the trench coat against body seemed as if the length would be closer to her knees, but once worn, the coat was barely reached mid-thigh. If she had been wearing pants or a skirt, it would have been of little concern. But all that was obscured beneath the coat was her bra and corset, and the free suspender straps were dangling and tickling her thighs.

While dressing, she had become excited about reuniting with her Dom. As these throughs flowed through in her mind, her body reacted. Her heart raced and pounded strong, goosebumps had bristled the back of her neck. She recalled admitting to him that she was new to this lifestyle... a submissive woman,

longing

to find that one man she desired to submit to -- completely and totally. In that admission, she harbored fears that she was somehow not up to His standard, nor unworthy of Him. As much as He reassured her, there was always that self-imposed fear, feeding her subconscious mind.

All of the excitement she had felt privately in her room were still consuming her as she stepped of the elevator. While her lack of clothing might be embarrassing, the droplets forming between her legs was far worse. As she moved into the air-conditioned lobby, Kelly became acutely aware of a growing stream on her inner thighs as the overly cold air rushed between her legs with each step. She slowed her pace, not only to avoid the erotic cooling sensation, but she suddenly realized that the lower half of her coat was comprised of overlapping fabric; a long stride would unwittingly offer any seated hotel guest a private "peep show."

As she carefully walked past the main desk, Kelly peeked at the wall clock from the corner of her eye. Nervously, she was careful not to make eye-contact with the clerk at the desk. Thankfully, his attention was occupied with another guest. Without losing a step she noted she was five minutes ahead of schedule. While it was good to be punctual, it also meant that she would have to find a nonchalant place to "hide" while waiting for the limousine. For some reason, the lobby was bustling with activity. The lobby bar was overflowing with people, some of them spilling out into the atrium area and occupying the lobby furnishings. Every so often, the serene environment of the lobby was interrupted by cheers and jeers. Apparently there was a Boston Celtics and a Boston Bruins game being televised simultaneously.

Kelly managed to find a seat far across the lobby from the sports fanatics. With most of the people in the lobby focused on either of the two games, they weren't -- thankfully -- focused on her. She found a chair out of sight from nearly everyone, but still gave her a view of the main entrance. Kelly sat in the leather chair and began to sink into its upholstery. She settled lower than expected and her knees were above her waistline. The coat uncomfortably bunched up around her midriff, but she obviously couldn't unbutton it to gain any relief. She sat nervously still, her hands folded in her lap, fingers laced together and legs tightly pressed together. Although the attention of those around her were either focused on a basketball or a hockey puck, Kelly still felt self-conscious. She tried to focus on anything other than the current predicament, but with her legs and hand positioned as they were, she could only conjure images of a previous bondage tie... her legs were secured above and below the knees. He bound her thighs tight with rope and finished by forcing an egg-shaped vibrator into her crotch. There was no escaping its vibrations. She remembered trying to resist the urge to cum as long as she could because once they started, they would roll one into the next. Kelly closed her eyes and recalled the details of that evening... the deep trenches the rope cut into her flesh, the feeling of her orgasms crashing in waves, and the euphoric feeling she had that night. Then going so deep into sub-space, she

literally

passed out from exhaustion.

"Are you ready, ma'am?" Kelly's blue eyes snapped open. She looked up at the chauffeur towering over her. Flustered, she began to blush uncontrollably, although there was no way he could have know what she was daydreaming. Kelly nodded in response to his question. The chauffeur extended a hand to her and helped her to stand. He gestured toward the main entrance and Kelly stepped toward the door, carefully controlling the length of her stride.

-- -- --

The limousine rolled to a stop at the edge of a dark alley. From behind the relative safety of the limousine's tinted windows, Kelly looked down the dark alley. This was not a location she had expected to be, and her perplexed thoughts were written on her face.

The driver got out and hustled around to the passenger side door, then calmly opened it for her. Once standing, he stated, "The shop is down this alley at the end and on the left, ma'am." He extended his arm in a direction down the dark, narrow alleyway. "Do you still have the message for Gabriel, the proprietor?" Kelly gave a light pat to the envelope in her breast pocket, not recognizing that he should have had no knowledge of the note. She nodded and forced a smile back to the chauffeur over her still puzzled expression, then started down the dark alley. Barely ten feet down the alley, Kelly stopped and turned. "Will you pick me up later?" The driver smiled and replied, "Yes, ma'am. The proprietor will summon me and I will return for you." Forcing another smile in return, she turned and continued on her way down the alley, her smile disappearing once her back was turned.

Walking on the cobblestone was difficult enough in heels... Walking in

unfamiliar

heels made matters worse. But she pressed on, paying acute attention to her balance with each step. The alley was dark because of the old, black-bricked buildings to either side. This only added to the precarious feeling crawling up her spine that intensified with each step.

The long alleyway bent to the left, and once around the corner, it opened into a wider space. Against a drab brick wall was the store front. There was a big plate glass window, beside a old, windowless wooden door, all of this trimmed in red paint like it was a gate to Hell. On the glass, there was a logo of an empty barber's chair beneath the rather obvious lettering "Barber" written in gold and black trim. Aside from the red paint, the entire exterior seemed old, including the logo, evident from the chipped and peeling paint.

As Kelly cautiously approached, she could see the outline of a tall man through the window, attending to a client in the barber's chair, nonchalantly reading an open newspaper. She opened the door and stepped inside, then softly closed the door behind her, both motions striking an old bell announcing her arrival. The barber -- whom she assumed was "Gabriel" -- turned his attention away from his customer and toward her. He looked at her, giving her a quick glance from head to toe. Kelly, quickly glanced him over too. He was wearing a white double-breasted smock, like an old dentist use to wear. He had black trousers, meticulously pressed with a razor sharp crease up both legs. His shoes were also black, but looked like they were from some expensive Italian store.

Still standing with her back to the door, Kelly opened her mouth to speak, but Gabriel quickly cut her off.

"You're early!" Gabriel barked in an unexpectedly deep voice. His accent was Spanish ...or possibly Italian? -- she hadn't heard enough of it to determine which. In either case, it was a gruff, thick voice.

Kelly started to respond, but was cut off again. "Through there..." he motioned, tilting his head toward the back of the shop. Kelly saw a black curtained entrance to the back room of the shop. Instead of attempting to respond, she hesitantly stepped toward the back.

She had only taken a step when Gabriel interjected again, "WAIT! Don't you have something for me,

eh?

" Kelly stopped, reached into her coat and pulled out the envelope. Trying to maintain her distance from him, she held the envelope with the ends of her fingers, pressing the open flap shut. Sheepishly, she stretched her arm outward to him. With a scowl on his face, Gabriel snatched the envelope from her hand. He looked down at the envelope, and his face turned to a mix of shock, and then anger.

"You! ...

you

opened

my

message?! Is your --

fucking --

name Gabriel??

Well??

...

is it

??"

Kelly froze motionless, her mouth agape and no words were coming out. Air finally rushed into her lungs and her vocal cords tightened. This time, she managed, "But I... it was..."

"Shut -- the --

fuck

-- up!" Without bothering to read the message, Gabriel tossed the opened envelope on the counter behind him. Trying to calm himself a little, he lowered his voice and said, "Go through the curtain and down to the basement." He paused, then stepped across the short distance between them, closing the gap to an intimidating proximity. Looking down into Kelly's upturned face, he calmly said, "You will take off your coat... Hang it on a peg. There is a chain suspended from the ceiling. At the end, a set of handcuffs." Gabriel's tone changed again. Using slow, deliberate wording as if he were speaking to a disobedient child, he said, "You

will

lock the handcuffs around your wrists... and you will

wait

." His hazel green eyes bored into hers.

The customer in the chair tousled his open newspaper, immediately catching Gabriel's attention, as well as Kelly's. All she could see of him were his hands, firmly gripping the newspaper. The newspaper had obscured a glimpse of his face. A cape laid across his chest. Apart from his black suit-coat arms, this was all she could distinguish about the customer. For a moment, Kelly's mind drifted off to the details of the customer. There was a certain familiarity to him, but she couldn't pinpoint why. "Hey! -- Pay attention!" Gabriel barked. Again, he nodded his head in the direction of the curtained back room, signaling for Kelly to be on her way. Without giving her another glance, Gabriel returned to his customer and resumed trimming the hair around his ears.