At The Salon

By Aksinia

Part Two

"Where's my handbag?" I said, grabbing a hand towel to cover my lower, naked half. Well, shrieked really, considering what I'd just been through. "I don't know" came the reply. Donna was taking this all remarkably calmly. "Look, try not to get in a state, come upstairs and use the phone in the flat." I was still a little weak on my legs, and wound up inside, so I acquiesced. What I should have done of course was demand to use the phone in the salon, but I wasn't thinking straight. Big mistake.

Dropping the towel, I quickly retrieved my panties and skirt, which had been flung in a corner. I buttoned up my blouse and released my hair from its bunches, running my fingers through it, breathing deeply, trying to focus. I was as much flustered by my reaction to the treatment I had just received, as I was by the invasion of my privacy and the fact that a gang of criminals had just walked in and assaulted me. And to top it all my Gucci bag was missing, so my credit cards, keys, money, mobile, all my intimate possessions had gone. I needed to get to a phone.

There were two doors at the rear of the salon, one of them leading out onto a small patio. Donna ushered me through the other door, which was windowless, upstairs to the flat above the salon,  pulling the door closed behind her. At the top of the stairs she unlocked another door and drew back a heavy black curtain, leading me down a short corridor with two doors along the right side, and one at the far end. The left wall had small windows above eye level, each of which was covered by a white-painted metal grille, a security measure I guessed although it seemed a bit excessive for the first floor. The décor was basic to say the least, monotone, functional, almost institutional, but it was clean. It smelt of new carpet and indeed a very new-looking thick black carpet covered the floor, matching the curtain over the door. "Do you live here?" I enquired. "No, just use it as a base, " she replied, "storage, and, er, things." She let me go ahead of her, directing me into the first room on the right, where I was confronted by the three women in blue overalls, the gang who had tormented me only minutes earlier. They were now without their masks.

This was all too much, and I instinctively turned to escape, but Donna blocked my way. "What's going on?" I demanded, summoning up a bit of courage. In spite of my fear I was cross. "All will be explained" replied Donna, but as she did so, one of the gang grabbed my hair, pulled sharply, making me cry out, giving them an opportunity to gag me again, and a scarf was pulled into my mouth and tied tightly behind my head.

Two of them held my arms forcefully, so no amount of struggling could get me free. Donna spoke, her tone changing now, much more assertive, hard, almost sneering, and totally unlike I'd ever heard her before - no longer the humble beautician eager to please. "But first let me introduce you to your flatmate."

They led me out into the corridor. Behind the second door, curtained with the same black material as the others, was a dimly lit box room, whose grey-painted walls barely reflected the single bulb hanging starkly from the ceiling. A couple of white chairs stood to one side. Standing in the middle was a black-haired woman, bound and gagged and blindfolded. "This is Ines, she's richer than you darling….or at least she was!" They all laughed at that. "Ines sweetie, this is Gina." Then to me, "She can't hear me, her ears are plugged, and anyway she's gagged as you can see. She wouldn't co-operate so she's been here for quite a while", she said, ominously. "Take a good look Gina, I'm sure you won't need that sort of encouragement." I froze, and stared at their victim, imagining what frightful things had gone on, and what was in store for me.  

I could see now that Ines was actually sitting astride a tall wooden bench, the sort of thing that carpenters use. Sitting wasn't quite the right word for it, she was on her toes in her stilettos, legs kept apart by a metal bar with cuffs at each end tightly fixed around her ankles. A vibrator was taped to the top of the bench, its head fixed between her thighs, which were also roped to the bench. She was naked apart from skin-coloured hold-up stockings, and a matching waist cincher.

Her hands were cuffed behind her, and a chain secured the cuffs to the bench. And she certainly was gagged, with a harness that combined a large black ball filling her mouth, and with a black blindfold, all secured by straps around and over her head, her long black hair pulled back into a ponytail. A chain led from the top of her head harness to the ceiling, where it was secured to a hook, so she had no choice but to remain upright.

Her nipples were clamped with small silver clips, connected to each other by a thin chain which joined another in a Y shape, the vertical length of which ended at the vibrator where it was heavily taped in place. The chains caught the light of the bulb as Ines breathed slowly in and out. All in all there was no way she could move far without extreme discomfort.

Suddenly the vibrator began buzzing, and Ines began to struggle and writhe against her bonds, although of course it was futile, and no doubt only exacerbated the stimulation on her nipples and the tension in her arms. "Timer switch, set to random. Exquisite, no?"

They pulled me out of the box room and back up the corridor to the first room again, while Donna closed the door and the curtain. The only furniture in this room was a single bed with a cast iron frame, a white wooden chair, and a small cupboard against the wall. The mattress was covered in a black sheet and the windows were shrouded by more heavy black curtains. I guessed these were for sound-proofing, a thought which worried me even more. What happened in here that needed sound-proofing? Ines and I were gagged already!

It was quite clear this gang was well organised. What was going on? What did she mean when she said Ines wouldn't co-operate? If all they wanted was money why not just take it and leave me alone?

The scarf in my mouth was released and I made an attempt to shout out "help", but it was half-hearted, hope was dwindling in the face of organised strength such as this gang had. "Pathetic" said the blonde woman, who grabbed my hair and twisted it briefly, thus enabling them again to insert a gag, not a ball or a scarf this time but a long, fat piece of rubber which filled my mouth and flattened my tongue making speech impossible. This they fixed in place with straps, and I guessed this was the same sort of harness device that Ines now wore. My heart sank further if that were possible, but then I remembered that she, poor soul, was also blindfolded and had her ears filled, so whatever I was about to be put through couldn't be a harsh as what she was undergoing, could it?

Quickly they stripped me of my blouse and bra. My wrists were bound together behind me, with the scarf taken earlier from my mouth, still wet from my own drool. They didn't seem to tie it very tightly, but then handcuffs were snapped on over it. Opening the cupboard, the blonde took a variety of ropes and straps out. One rope was then tied around my elbows, which had the effect of forcing my breasts out prominently. Donna picked up some small thin lengths of cord and tied them tightly around the base of each breast, casually flicking the now-hard nipples with the ends of the cords before tucking those ends roughly under the tied loops, making them tighter still.

The dark-haired member of the gang pulled on a pair of latex gloves and took a jar from the table. Opening it she dipped her hand in and brought out some form of gel. The room was filled with a medicinal smell - menthol. She began to rub the gel on my breasts. Donna spoke: "Oil of wintergreen, to which we've added some chilli oil. Now hold still." As if I had any choice! I recoiled in horror but could not escape the gang's grasp. "Takes a few minutes to start working." I was unable to tear my eyes away from the torture as it happened. I stood there bound and gagged, held by two of the gang, breasts tightly roped making them sensitive to any touch, watching whilst a chemical goo was spread all over them which I knew very soon would begin to burn. "A little more heat treatment" said Donna, "after your earlier session. Thing is, we don't know how long it will last, but at least it smells nice, eh?"

They hitched my skirt up and the blonde woman produced one of the large spiked plastic hair rollers from the salon, and pushed it down inside my panties, then straightened the skirt back down over it. Leather straps were quickly secured around my ankles and knees, and I was hobbled over to the bed. "Lie down Gina, face down." Donna said, but again I had no choice as I was pushed onto the bed landing on my chest and face, the short sharp shock of the pain from the bonds, and the curler between my thighs pressing into me, making me cry out, but it was stifled by the gag which pushed further into my mouth.

They manoeuvred me around on the bed so that my feet were towards the head, and then strapped me down onto the bed itself, with thick nylon straps around my ankles, thighs and waist. I could not of course see what was going on behind me but I felt my arms pulled upwards, and this made me arch my back so that I was facing the wall. I worked out that a rope had been tied round the handcuffs on my wrists, and then fed through a hook in the ceiling, being secured to the frame at the head of the bed. Then my head was jerked back and another rope attached the head harness to the bed frame behind me, and I was then unable to droop my head forward and down.

As if my chest had not had enough attention, small silver clips were applied to my nipples which I noticed were now like bullets, and a pillow pushed under the breasts which of course caused  pressure on the clips, but at least did offer a modicum of support to my back.

By now the wintergreen had begun to warm my skin, and I could feel it increasing in intensity. My eyes began to water from the smell.

The dark-haired woman left the room, returning shortly after with two digital cameras. She and Donna began taking pictures of me! Flash after flash lit the room, and all I could do to avoid them was close my eyes but that didn't seem to matter to the gang.

Donna then spoke. "You're very compliant aren't you? I had you weighed up quite soon after you started coming here, you're one of life's submissive really, aren't you?"

I mmphed into my gag in protest.

"Yes you are. In spite of running a business, which takes balls these days, since it's always the men who fight dirty isn't it? I respect you for that, but you're not at work now, so you've swapped personalities. I noticed it a few months ago, remember how I'd suggest all those beauty treatments and you'd always go along with the idea? Even if you ever said no, I soon managed to break down your resistance. So unlike Ines who struggled at every stage, that's why she got special treatment. You've saved yourself that much at least, and believe me, we aren't always this gentle."

At the word gentle, she tugged at the rope attached to the handcuffs round my wrists, causing me to mmph again. A hand squeezed my right buttock, and I instinctively tried to squirm away from it. Something small and cold was taped to each cheek, and it was only later that I found out what they were.

"I think you enjoy being in a position of helplessness, because it's so different from your daily grind, where you have to be in charge all the time, have to meet deadlines, maybe fire some idiot or sue one of your customers who won't pay up. I know what it's like, believe me." Then moving her head closer to mine, and speaking in a low voice: "I think you get a kick out of it, you naughty girl. Good, you'll enjoy the next few hours then. Boobs nice and warm yet?" Indeed they were, hot and uncomfortable, and the menthol scent was powerful, almost overpowering. Did I enjoy this?

"Anyway, so," said Donna, suddenly, breaking my chain of thought, "Let me explain. You're being robbed, big-time. Also, you wouldn't know it but I've been overcharging you ever since you first came to this salon, you stuck-up cow. Not just you, but all those other posh tarts who come in here, like Ines."

One of the gang then moved to stand before me. I hadn't really noticed her appearance before but she was probably Eurasian, petite, very attractive, and certainly not the sort you would assume to be a member of a ruthless criminal gang - as if I knew! Her long hair was coloured with highlights, and was swept up away from her face, gathered at the back, just a few strands feathering out around the front. It was a strangely elegant style for such a situation. Of the four women, she and Donna were the most heavily made-up, quite glamorously. The incongruity of  her appearance was something I would dwell on during the long hours ahead. She looked down at me and smiled, a pitying smile that said "I win, you lose."

There was one last indignity, one final element to this physical torture. She had brought a fan heater, probably the same one they used on me downstairs earlier, and placed it on the chair opposite the bed, so that it was pointed at my face. She continued to smile at me and for the time being the heater was not switched on.

Donna went on in a monotone: "We'll make a deal with you, tell us your PIN number now and we'll go easy on you. If not, well, you could be in for a long night." Then more playfully, "Oh I forgot, you can't can you, because you've got that huge cock gag in your mouth. Bet you like that don't you? Submissives always do. Anyway we've had your PIN for months and your credit card details. That's what makes us professionals you see, we possess information, and that's power, but we don't use it until the time is right. And power gives us the right to treat you like this."

"We're taking your car of course, should get a good price for it from my friends in France. It'll probably be driving round Germany this time next month, new paint job, European plates, you won't recognise it."

"Your mobile phones are going to take a trip on the train to Edinburgh, so everyone will think you've gone away, and we've disconnected the landline here so by the time you get out we'll be far away, and much richer!"

"These photos will be sold to a bondage website, they're excellent and should get us quite a good return. We got some of you earlier downstairs, in fact the whole thing was video'd by CCTV." I tried to protest but without success of course.

"Then there's your house, we'll clean that out of anything worth having. Ines wouldn't give us the information we wanted from her, so like I said she got some special attention from my team, but we've got all we want from you. You're not exactly very clever when it comes to personal security, so think yourself lucky. The girls wanted to, well, play with you a bit more too, but they've had their fun and we've no time; more dumb rich women to rob. I'm sure Ines will tell you all about it when you both get free. And yes you will be free some time, we're not killers, but we are dangerous so whilst I expect you will go to the police, think carefully about what you tell them. But they won't find us. We've been doing this for three years now without them getting anywhere near."

I was stunned by their audacity. I was so utterly helpless at this point. The other three women all left the room now and Donna took a long lingering look at me, all over, as if I were some feast ready to be eaten. "So, must be off now. Ciao Gina, I don't expect we'll meet again." She switched on the fan heater on her way out and the warm air played over my face, momentarily blowing away the menthol fumes, but replacing one predicament with another. The smell of electrically heated air was now forever associated with this day and its events. Mercifully after maybe 15 minutes it went off, only to start again shortly after that. Probably a time switch, like the one that Ines was subject to.

As my face began to blush from the hot air, I was left alone with my thoughts, and feelings. I wasn't afraid, and was surprised at my own acquiescence to the events. Yes being robbed bothered me, but what struck me more was Donna's assertions about me. Was I really a submissive? I ran a successful business, was outgoing, confident. "Stuck up?" How dare she?! One has standards, wealth, privilege perhaps but I did not consider myself a snob. But why hadn't I put up more resistance?

I thought back to what I felt when tied to the chair earlier on. Admittedly there'd been the orgasms, and they were unexpected too. Did I somehow need a release of tension, after a hard day's work? Always in control, deep down was I a 'submissive', a masochist? I tried to relax and found it easier than I imagined it was going to be. Helpless, hands bound behind me, breasts pressured and heated, warm air in my face, a hard rubber gag filling my mouth, a spiked plastic hair roller nestled in my private space, between my bound thighs….I instinctively began rocking back and forth within the little slack available to me, rubbing my nipples against the pillow beneath them, and finally let myself descend into waves of pleasure, oh, oh, oh.

Time passed. I may have slept, fitfully. The effect of the wintergreen oil began to fade. But enough was enough and I wanted it to stop now. Now I got angry and now I decided that revenge was something I craved. That kept me going for a while. But I realised this was clearly a very organised gang. What could I do against them? Of course I must go to the police, and Ines would confirm our stories. And if the police couldn't do anything in three years, then I would track them down myself. Ines and I would be a crime-fighting duo, and…. Yeah right. Such are the thoughts that go through your head when you're in reality powerless and have suddenly been confronted by your inner self which you had never before acknowledged. But I had been forced to accept the paradox of what Donna said.

I thought again about the Eurasian girl. I'd say she was mid-twenties, younger than the others. Why was her make up so professional? I'd never seen her at the salon. And then there was the dark-haired one who had rubbed the wintergreen on my chest. She had not said a word. Where did she fit in, was she a quiet mastermind or just the reliable silent odd-job woman? Surely the police must have some information on these people. And they hadn't worn their masks. Either they were foolish or very confident. Somehow it didn't all add up.

Eventually in the small hours, I heard a click and my arms and head were released, by an electronic timer as it turns out, connecting the ropes to the bed frame. It was then that I felt the small objects taped to my buttocks - keys! After some time I was able to get the handcuffs off with one of them. I was able to shuffle forward on the bed to get out of the straps, and whilst this involved me sliding forward onto the floor, enduring considerable pain to my nipples, at least it enabled me to work on the scarf that was still around my wrists, and to wriggle out of the ropes around my elbows. I guessed the other key might be for the main salon door, but after releasing myself from my other bonds, and pausing for a few moments to recover and compose myself mentally, I went off in search of Ines, to free her too.


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