This story deals with adult situations and subject matter. If you are not of age, do not continue reading. All characters are fictional and do not represent anyone living or dead.

This is my second attempt at writing (and much 'darker') so I hope readers can forgive any errors I may have made. Authors are always advised to "write what you know"—so although this is fiction though… much of it all of it is based on personal experience and/or fantasies…. Hope you enjoy… would appreciate feedback.

Copyright © 2004 - Karen Virginia - Please ask permission before distributing.

 

You Just Don't Understand

Karen Virginia

Part 2

 

Well, I thought to myself. What's going on? Is this just a little mind game going on? I settled down to that assumption to reassure myself.

As a faint breeze came from the car's A/C, the car radio was changed to a light rock and roll station.

After a few turns from the house, I had lost my familiar bearings. Being blindfolded with the pink scarf, I thought I could figure out where we were going based on my memory of turns, etc. But after just a few turns, I was hopelessly confused and resigned myself to just wait it out.

It wasn't long until I heard my girlfriend say, "turn in there, I can get the rest of the stuff."

We soon parked and she got out of the car.

I waited patiently in silence, but the mystery woman had turned the key to the accessory position so we just quietly listened to the radio together.

I took less than five minutes and the passenger door opened again.

Did ya get everything?

Yep, we got everything.

On to the first stop?

On to the first stop!

And with that the car backed out of the parking space and reentered the traffic flow.

A few miles, and several turns later... I was absolutely mentally lost on where we were, nor even remotely sure on just how far away from home I was.

I heard—Is that the place?

Yes, that's the place... she's waiting for us.

It's a lot bigger than I thought it would be.

Yes, but she's not normally open today, this is a SPECIAL favor.

Well, I'm sure it's going to be SPECIAL for him.

A long wicked giggle followed… and I didn't get the joke.

 

My door opened… and I was ordered, 'time to get out'.

Swing your legs out first, and we'll help you stand up.

It's kind of strange not having your arms to balance and hold on with… it makes you wobble and be very unsteady.

I made it out of the car without banging my head on the door or falling down.

I was lead – again, one hand on the back of my neck, and the other in the small of the back, across a short walkway and through a doorway.

I was led a few paces in and heard the door gently close behind me. The feel of A/C as well as the subtle echoes from walls around me confirmed we were now indoors.

I was led a few more steps forward, and then three paces to my right.

STAND STRAIGHT.

I felt what was like an ace bandage wrapped around my thighs.

And seconds later, I felt another one being wrapped around my ankles.

Now I felt a bit scared... Arms cuffed with wire-ties behind my back, and my thighs and ankles also bound.

I was instructed to sit down slowly – at the edge of the seat behind me.

I did… the seat was a bit higher than I was expecting – I was actually leaning a slight bit forward once my butt made contact.

In a smooth motion, I felt the wire-tie handcuffs being cut, but immediately I was pushed fully back into the chair, and my elbows were also wrapped in ace-bandages to the chair arms.

I couldn't slide forward much, and I certainly couldn't slide backwards any further. I couldn't kick other than kinda like a mermaid… I was pretty much fixed in position.

 

Does he look ready said the shopkeeper...?

Yes, said the mystery woman.

Oh, Yes said my girlfriend.

Well… let's go talk first.

And, again, I heard the unmistakable clicks of the heels from the mystery woman get fainter… and the giggles of the three women disappear into the distance of the dark.

I heard the muffled sounds of talking, nearly hysterical laughing, and more chatter… nothing clear… I am not close enough… and I struggled a bit to lean closer, and in the process test my bindings and they were secure.

I heard a door open from afar, and the voices became clear.

So, we agree?

Yes.

Yes.

And the footsteps came back closer.

Are we ready?

"I SAID, ARE WE READY?"

I realize that the voice was talking to me.

Uh, I guess so.

Ok Hun… this won't hurt a bit… (I heard laughter in the background).

And then I felt a breath on my ear, and a whisper "Remember, You just don't understand." It was my girlfriend. "Stay quiet, you might learn something."

The same chills as before went down my spine.

I heard something on wheels roll up… and I felt a cape draped and fastened around my neck. I immediately realized where I was.

It was confirmed when my girlfriend pulled off the scarf from my head. I started to look around and confirmed I was in a fairly large salon, but it was empty. I saw my girlfriend and what I presumed was the salon owner. The mystery woman was behind me and I only caught a glimpse of her in a reflection from a mirror across the room… that is, before my girlfriend snapped…

CLOSE YOUR EYES.

And with that, she produced a pair of large rectangular bandages – the ones with a non-stick padded middle, but 3/8" of sticky all around the edges.

She stuck the edge of the first one above my eyebrows, and then below on my cheekbone… then against my nose, and near my temple – completing the square. She quickly did the same on the other eye…

I was effectively blind again… What little light was just diffuse and impossible to see anything.

Hun, how ya doing? Is it dark in there? <laughter all around>

The three-way conversation around me went along like I wasn't even there….

Hand me that bowl.

Each of you put on a pair of gloves.

Hand me a pair also.

Ok, let's begin with a part down the middle.

Now, we dip the brush into the bowl, and scrape it gently along the sides. We just want enough product on the brush to be wet, but not goopy.

Then, using the pointy end of the brush, pick up a small, one-inch section of hair, and paint it liberally starting about one-half inch from the scalp to the end. We'll come back later and do the section nearest the scalp.

Just hold the lock of hair in your hand… paint it all the way down along your glove to the end. Don't miss any spots…

After you paint that section, flip it over to the other side of his head, and section off another section and repeat.

I could begin to smell a faint chemical smell in the air. And as it progressed, my head felt heavier and heavier with the weight of each lock of hair being wetted down.

Is this right? Am I doing it right?

Yes, just keep it about a half an inch away from the scalp…

A few more locks later… the mystery woman's voice…

Let me try!

Sure…

A new set of hands began the same process… separating out a lock of hair, pulling it with rubber gloves, and painting it with the brush.

Then flipped to one side, and the next lock of hair was done.

It took nearly 20 minutes to do one half of my head. Dozens and dozens of separate steps. Separate a lock, paint from top to end, and flip… repeat…

The shop owner, based on her coaching, I now realized was a professional stylist, said, let me do the other side so we process evenly. In her expert hands, the other half of my head took half the time.

As she finished her half, she said.

Now, we're just going to back through with the pointy end of the brush lifting through his hair and check to see if we missed any spots…

She made a few touchups here and there….

She announced, it's now "Shake and Bake" time… and with that I felt a plastic cap… it felt like a shower cap… being placed on my head…

A few moments later, more wheels were rolling across the floor, and I felt a warm dryer blowing down on my head….

I could barely make out the conversation that followed… over the noise and drone of the dryer….

Over the eternity – or what seemed like one—I heard only snippets. The occasional punctuated word or phrase or laughter… mostly laughter….

At home…

such a slut…

pink…

glad too…

yes…

<laughter>

car…

parlor…

bitch…

yes!

<laughter>

No, no…

Better…

Long..

And the magic word again, "Understand"

 

It was about 20 minutes later, and I heard the dryer turn off and felt the plastic cap come off. I felt that same breathy whisper on my warm ear, "So, You just don't understand" …

<laughter>

Then a gasp…

Is that right?

What's wrong?

It's ORANGE!

Calm down, calm down… we're only half-way through… keep it together ladies.

<laughter>

Bring me that portable sink in the back. Fill the reservoirs with hot and cold water – they're labeled.

A minute or two later… I heard something being rolled down close to me.

Ok hun, lean back slowly… I felt a catch on the chair release, and I was laid back until my head rested in the nook of a sink bowl.

The arm restraints tugged and stretched a bit as I leaned back…

My girlfriend spoke first, That's kinda cool… I haven't seen a portable sink before…

Yes, some of the customers in this shop are older and not so mobile. So it's sometimes easier and safer to bring the sink, dryers, etc. to them than to have them walk back and forth to the different stations… Time is money in this business.

And with that my hair was washed. Soaped up… Lathered… rinsed. And like most shampoo bottles say, "repeat".

Ok, let's sit you back up. And the chair was raised and locked back into the upright position.

We'll dry this out a bit.

A towel was produced and my hair was gently but firmly towel-dried…

The stylist combed my now towel-dried hair out again – with the same part down the middle.

I'll be right back… I gotta mix up a new 'batch'.

And with that I heard footsteps walking to the rear of the shop, and next heard that tale-tale whisper "So, You just don't understand."

Ok girls… ready for round two?

YES!

Yes!

Ok Girls… same process again… but this time, we go all the way to the scalp.

Here's a fresh set of gloves for everybody.

This time, the section-by-section process felt different. My hair was heavier, the brush strokes against my scalp tickled, and quickly my scalp became very warm and tingly.

It also took a little longer this time… I guess it was the wetness of my hair taking longer to separate into locks.

But the painting process, all the while I was in the dark, continued the same way … separate, paint top to end, flip… next section… separate, paint, flip…

Again, the stylist went through my hair and touched up parts and when done put the shower cap back on.

I waited for the dryer to come on… But I heard nothing moving…

A few seconds later, the question that I had in my head was asked by my girlfriend.

Do you need me to get the dryer?

No… this second round gets processed just by the heat of the scalp, trapped underneath the cap. The fresh one-half inch we painted will actually process more quickly than the rest of the hair… and it'll all come out right if we time it right.

So, how are we doing there? I felt a tap on my head.

Just fine…

Can you hang in for another 20 minutes?

Yes...

Do you have any questions?

Well… yes… just what is going on?

<laughter>

Well, I can't tell you ALL the plans… but are you just asking about the cap on your head?

Well… that would be a good start…

<laughter>

Do you really want to know? Or do you want to know just the overview, the fifty-thousand foot view?

I really want to know..

OK… here's what I remember from cosmetology school…

The chemicals we're using are designed to enter the outer layer of protective scales known as the cuticle. It's really the only defense your hair has. Past that, we get to the part of your hair that actually makes up your color.

In your case, we mixed up a batch of chemicals to penetrate right through all of that protection and get right at the cortex and medulla of your hair shaft.

At the end of our little process here, your hair will have zip, nada, pigment of its own. All gone. Courtesy of modern chemistry.

<laughter>

This process has another side effect, the hair itself becomes softened... and much more porous. Since it has no color of its own, it's going to be a hairdressers dream!

<laughter>

So what color is it?

My girlfriend interrupted, SHUT UP… NO MORE QUESTIONS… we're still not sure… we're not at that point yet anyway…

I sat back into the chair and just waited… it didn't take long for the sink to be brought back around and my hair double-washed and rinsed a second time.

Ok girls, come back with me – one final decision to make.

And they tottered away, with my head still back in the sink… My arms bound to the chair, and my ankles and thighs beginning to throb from the pressure and the time elapsed.

I could only make out parts of it.

Too dark

Too light

Not right

Ohhh, he does like pink.

<laughter>

Ohhh, that'd be fun… but we can't do that to him.

Ok Girls, do we agree?

YES!

Yes!

 

A few moments later, the entourage came back to me.

I felt something cold being massaged into my hair. The explanation continued. This is a toner, it's meant to fix the final color into your hair, and smooth down the cuticle of your hair that was ravaged by the earlier process.

It doesn't have to stay on long… just about 5 or so minutes…

But this step really had a strong smell. Even stronger than the earlier two processes.

And my head really began to itch… itch really really badly!

I was glad that it was going to be only about 5 minutes.

The time came and went and I was double-washed again. And this time, the process continued.

I'm going to apply a deep conditioner. After the brutal treatment your hair has been through so far, it needs all the help it can get.

And a soothing creamy lotion was applied to my head. It seemed to be kinda minty – both in feel and in smell. I didn't care, after all I had been through, and it just felt great.

Just relax for a few minutes….

And that whisper again, "So, You just don't understand"…

 

Stay tuned for part 3 …

  

  

  

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