My Lady Barber

This is a story, not representing anyone in real life.

I had gone to get a haircut. It is a small shop that has 3 women and one man, I guess that is why I go there. It is not a salon; it is just a barbershop. Stylists don’t know how to cut hair; a plain taper in the back is beyond their skills. Anyway, my turn came and I got the older of the three women, there were only two there that day but I had had my hair cut by her before.

My tastes are simple so it didn’t matter who I got. I sat down in the chair and she said “And what are we going to do today with this beautiful hair”. Let me explain here, I do not have beautiful hair, I am 66 and have almost white hair which is sparse. I keep it very short; the intent is to be able to wash it with a washcloth. Appearance is second to practicality; after all, I can’t see it unless looking in a mirror which I only do to shave. So that comment of hers triggered a nerve in my brain. I told her a number 2, which she knew is a buzz cut with the number 2 attachment. While explaining this, she had put her hand on my shoulder, which was I thought to be an act of intimacy. It turns out that it really was an approach to a meeting.

Throughout the procedure we bantered small talk, she hinting innuendoes and me replying in a flirting way. Anyway, after she cut my hair, she stood in front of me and looked deeply into my eyes, after an embarrassing length of time, she said “ Your eyebrows look OK.” Again let me explain, I do not have bushy eyebrows. She kept looking into my eyes. I could sense a need, a desire, and a submission so to speak.

I got up to pay and as she was somewhat flustered trying to figure out how to make change for a $20 dollar bill which was obvious, I showed her how to charge $7 and keep a $2 tip for herself. Taking the chance, I leaned close to her and whispered, “You are mischievous today, maybe you need a spanking.” She gave out a small gasp, touched my arm, and asked me if I had a moment to look at something. I said yes at which point she led me into the office, closing the door when we were inside.

She stared into my eyes and said nothing. I reached behind her with my left hand, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to me. Several seconds went by with no words spoken, I reached up with my right hand and pinched her left nipple. Her mouth opened and a moan spilled forth. With that I knew she was under my control. I lifted her sweater and pushed her bra up over her left breast. I then teased her nipple with my thumb and forefinger, which immediately made it hard. Slowly applying pressure, I pinched as hard as I could and gave it a half twist. Her knees started to buckle and she grabbed my shoulder for support.

“Do you want me to quit?”

“No, it hurts so good.”

My fingers were tiring so I finally had to let go of her nipple. She moaned in disappointment and then gasped as the blood returned which intensified the pain. I fingered the bra and said, “This must go.” Reaching inside her slacks I pulled on the panties and said, “These too.” Slipping my hand on farther down, I pulled on her pubic hair and said, “This too, I want you not only accessible but I want to see you also.” She moaned in pleasure and nodded in acceptance. I gave her my IM screen name and told her to look for me on line.

That night I signed on and immediately she popped up on my buddy list. I let her sit there wondering if I was going to acknowledge her before I said anything. Finally I said

“Hello”

“Sir, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Does your nipple hurt?”

“No Sir, it throbs with passion from your touch, it is the other one that aches for the same.”

She asked, “When can I see you?”

“Maybe tomorrow.” I wanted her to anticipate our first meeting, think of the possibilities, and crave it so bad that she wanted to beg, but knew better. I signed off.

The next evening I signed on and found her waiting. Again I let her wait, and she was obedient, not saying anything until spoken to. I asked for her address, which she immediately gave me. I asked her if she was alone of which she said yes. I signed off.

I arrived at her house an hour later. She obviously had been watching for me because the front door opened as I was getting out of the car. I grabbed the bag of supplies I had picked up and entered the house. She was wearing a robe and as soon as I closed the door she let it drop to the floor. We stood looking at each other, silently surveying the situation, and then I grabbed her by the hair and this time I kissed her. Her mouth opened and I thrust my tongue into her mouth. I broke the kiss and cupped her breast to examine it. Her left nipple showed no signs of the abuse it had taken earlier, but I knew it was sore. I flicked it with my finger to confirm that it was and she moaned in response. She pushed the right nipple towards me, indicating a need for a repeat action, which I shook my head no to. Instead, I had her spread her legs so I could inspect her privates. As I had requested, her mound was shaved smooth, soft from lotion and the lips swollen in arousal.

“Are you going to spank me now?”

“No, I have decided to zipper you, far more intense, and capable of producing a catatonic state of arousal.” I could tell by the questioning look on her face that she did not know what I was talking about, but being obedient, kept quiet to accept whatever I had in store for her.

I took her into the kitchen and opened the bag to get the rope I had purchased. I had her lie on the table on her back with her feet flat and spread to the edge. I tied her feet to the tabletop to secure them. The effect was awesome. Her newly exposed vulva was prominently displayed and already moist. I had no doubt it was in that state all afternoon just thinking of what was to come. I pulled her arms over her head, tied the wrists together and tied them to both table legs so they were centered. The next thing out of the bag was a ball of twine. I fastened one end to the table, then draped it over her breasts. She was watching in wonderment until I took out the bag of clothespins. Then the vague idea began to materialize.

Holding the twine with my left hand, I placed an open clothespin over it on the flesh just below the side of her breast, then allowed it to close. The skin was pinched with the twine running through the clothespin. She jumped a little because this flesh on the side of her ribcage is tender, however, that miniscule difference would be lost as I continued with the task. The next one went as close as possible to the first, again straddling the twine and pinching the flesh. This one was over that ridge of cartilage that was the base for the breast, not much flesh, and just the skin. The effect wouldn’t matter though; the ripping off of the clamp would still leave a welt.

Her breasts were rather small so it only took four more clamps to reach the aureole. The clamp on the aureole brought a gasp, then the one on the nipple produced a moan and a lifting of her chest. There was little movement because of her arms being tied under the table. I put another next to it and waited, allowing her to feel what was happening and what was to come.

When I thought the pain had subsided to an ache I continued. I slipped a noose made from dental floss around her nipple below the clothespin, then tightening it; I pulled her breast to the side and secured it to the table with some tape. This allowed me access to the inner sides of her breasts. The progress down the inside of the breast had no response, but the soft flesh in her cleavage triggered a moan. The trip up the inside of the other breast was equally uneventful, but the three clamps on the pink tissue were painful, perhaps worse than the first. The anticipation and knowing what was coming would do that.

I sat back and waited, wanting her to savor the feeling. When her breathing returned to normal, I slipped a seam ripper under the floss and cut the noose. The movement of the breast and the returning blood to the nipple made her scream through clenched teeth. It wasn’t loud enough to alert the neighbors, but I knew the zipper would make her scream loud enough. I knew how to prevent that.

I finished putting the clamps on down the side of her breast and one on the soft flesh beneath it. I stood back and examined the sight. Her skin was taunt by the excess skin being gathered under the clamps, her breasts being molded by the squeezing. I reached down and slipped my fingers under her labia, stroking it with my thumb. Her head was shaking back and forth, pleading with me silently, yet wanting that pain also. I smiled and told her we would leave that for another day. I dampened the dishcloth and wiped the perspiration from her face, then bent down and kissed her.

Our tongues sought each other and saliva was traded between us. I stood up and said, “Well dear, it is time.” Her breathing quickened and her sphincters were contracting in passion. I reached across her and grabbed the loose end of the twine. I placed my left hand over her mouth to muffle the scream, then yanked all the clothespins off.

The progressive noise of them snapping together after leaving the flesh sounded like a huge zipper. She screamed into my hand and raised her hips as far off the table as she could. I watched the tiny blue welts forming and heard the drips from her cunt hit the table from her orgasm. It was amazing that she could maintain such muscle strain for as long as she did, but I surmised that it was only achievable from her catatonic state.

Gradually her hips lowered to the table and she opened her eyes. I left her to float in her dream world and moved down between her splayed legs. Her labia were swollen framing the clit that had surfaced from the flesh covering it. Her breathing was moving air in and out of her dilated vagina; it was open enough to see the wet inner walls. I slipped in a rod I had brought with me until it hit her cervix, and noted the depth of her vagina from the graduations I had marked on it.

I snapped on a latex glove and pushed three fingers into her. There was no resistance and no recognition from her; she was still off in subspace. From that I could estimate the desirable diameter of her vaginal sphincter. These two measurements were necessary for our next meeting. With that accomplished, it was time for my pleasure.

I pulled my cock from my pants and spread her cheeks so I could see her anus. As I expected, the juices had run down across it and wetted it. I placed the head of my cock against the opening and watched as the juices gathered momentarily then ran around it coating the junction. I pulled back to let it coat the tip, then pressed in, gaining a little entrance. I felt her clenching her muscle in anticipation as I waited for more fluid to coat head of my cock. When I felt the juice run around the dry flesh to continue its journey, I pulled back again. Once again I pushed in, only this time I broached the sphincter and felt half the head enter her.

I stopped and began to stroke myself. She finally understood what I was doing and begged me to push it all the way in. I ignored her and continued. Finally I reached the peak and sprayed my cum into her passage. When she felt the hot slime enter her, she cried out “Please, fuck me.” I again ignored her and pulled out when I was finished.

I moved to the head of the table and placed my cock so she could get the head of it in her mouth, but no more. Her lips wrapped around it and I saw her cheeks cave in as she sucked. There was a tingling all the way to my ass as the conduit collapsed and the last string of cum exited into her mouth. She tried to engulf more of my cock, but I pulled out, saying “Another time perhaps.”

I untied her and left her spent in ecstasy on the table. Her head had rolled to the side and her legs were jerking in response to the lingering orgasm. I let myself out and went home. I knew she would be there waiting for me online. I had decided that the next session would bring her wish, but not as tame as she thought. My hand could not administer the punishment to the degree I had envisioned.