Longhairlover
When Alex was 12 years old his mother passed away. His father quickly married another woman. Stella, who was always referred to as Madame, was his new stepmother. She had two children from a previous marriage, Margaret and Stacy. Only a year after his father got remarried, he too passed away in a tragic accident leaving Alex behind with his stepmother. Stella promised to take care of Alex and treat him like her one of own daughters when her husband passed away. Very quickly Alex learned that he was not welcome in his own home. His stepmother frequently made him do chores that his stepsisters did not have to do. Alex was made to do the cleaning and the cooking. While doing his chores, Madame demanded that he wear a frilly pink apron. Alex tried to resist however he eventually gave in. Eventually, Madame became more and more demanding. Stacy and Margaret never lifted a finger in the house and Alex was forced to do all the chores. He was even told to take care of them. The stepsisters would call Alex into the bathroom to help blow-dry and straighten their hair for them while they scrolled through the phone. Alex had initially refused however after getting locked up in his bedroom for a week by Madame, he learned to cooperate. The girls made sure he did a perfect job otherwise he would have to go the night without dinner. Eventually, they trained him to do more complex tasks such as apply their eyeliner and braid their hair. Gradually Madame became even more demanding. She started to humiliate him more and more. Madame demanded that his nails be kept clean. Alex could deal with the basic hygiene requirements, however, she demanded his nails be done in a French manicure at all times. Although his father left behind a fortune, Madame never spent a dollar on Alex. Since the week his father passed away, Alex had not had his hair cut. His pale blonde hair now extended down to his chin. The lack of food had made Alex far skinnier than all the other boys his age.
If there was one thing that Alex was looking forward to it was Christmas. Although it would be his first Christmas without his father, and he was expecting no gifts, at least the season would bring joy and light into his dark life. The day before Christmas Eve, Madame called Alex into her bedroom.
”We can’t have you looking so unkempt for Christmas photos, now can we?” She asked.
Alex had learned not to answer her rhetorical questions. Madame grabbed a pair of scissors and sat Alex down at her makeup table. She grabbed a spray bottle and started to wet his hair. once it was all damp, she started combing it straight down. His straight hair stretched longer when wet and really amplified the uneven layers. Alex had never had his hair so long before. He wanted to get it cut back into the crew cut it was 6 months ago but Madame had refused. He had to take out the trash for a whole month just for asking her. Alex looked into the mirror with wonder as Madame reached for her scissors. Madame walked behind him and started to section off his hair. She tied the sides with claw clips and then started to work the top. She then looped the top portion of his hair into a ponytail that flopped into his face and covered his eyes. Madame walked back behind him and started cutting away. Although Alex could not see what she was doing, he could feel the cold scissors grazing his neck. Once the back was done, Madame made her way over to the sides and continued cutting his hair. Alex dozed off to sleep for a short while. When she was done, she slapped the back of his head to wake him up.
“There, you look proper again,” she remarked.
Alex looked up to see his hair was cut into a bob that came down to his chin. He started to cry and scream at Madame only to be sent up to his room until Christmas morning. He should have known better than to argue with Madame. He would only get hurt.
Christmas morning came around and Madame finally unlocked the door to let Alex come down to join his stepsisters for opening presents. Alex was surprised to see that there were a few packages for him. When he opened the first bag, he was shocked to see a pair of dresses.
“I think this one is for Margaret or Stacy. It’s a dress,” he said.
“No, it is for you. I got all of my children two dresses for Christmas, it would be unfair to get them something different than you, now wouldn’t it?” she boldly scolded. “You girls can wear them when we take our Christmas photos this evening,”
Alex opened the second box to find a pair of blue Crocs, a belt and a nerf gun. Margaret cried that she wanted blue Crocs and asked to switch presents. Alex could not say no as Madame reached forward and swapped boxes. Margaret’s box had a pair of blue high heels, a yellow hairbrush, and large hoop earrings.
“What am I supposed to do with this,” he asked?
“You would use it silly Alexie, it would be rude to not use a Christmas gift,” she said with a look that silenced Alex.
“Haha Alexie, I like that nickname, let’s use that from now on,” chimed in Stacy.
And so, it was settled, his family would now call him Alexie. Alex took the box back upstairs to his bedroom. Later in the day, Madame came into his room with what appeared to be a little gun. True to her word, she was going to make sure that the gifts got used. She sat Alex down on his bed and started to clean his ears lobes with an alcohol swab. Next, she grabbed a gun and punched a hole in each ear. She then grabbed the earrings and clicked them in. I want you downstairs in five minutes wearing that pink dress I got you. And before you come down make sure to check with the sisters to see if they need any help getting ready. Alex reluctantly put on the dress. It was cut in a weird shape. The top was all tight but the bottom widened like a ball gown but had a slit so one of his legs stuck out. He would have put it back in the closet but didn’t want to be locked up in his room again until New Years'. Alex checked with his sisters to see if they needed any help with their hair before he went downstairs.
“Aw Alexie what a cute dress!” Said Margaret.
“That fitting looks weird though. It doesn’t fit right. Here put on this bra and I’ll stuff it with socks. And while you’re at it, here is a pair of panties that match that dress,” demanded Stacy.
Alex obliged. He looked in the mirror when they were done and saw a girl staring back at him. With the blonde bob, hoop earrings, French nails, and flamboyant pink dress, he started to think maybe Alexie did seem more suitable. Downstairs, Madame started to set the stage for the photo. They took a few clicks but she was not satisfied with any of them. Madame started playing with Alex’s hair. Something just wasn’t looking right to her. She brushed it back and tried to tie it into a bun but it was too short. His blonde locks slid right back down grazing his chin.
“Alexie, your hair is too short to do anything with. You must grow it out so it can be secured properly. Starting tomorrow you’ll be taking estrogen pills, that will help your hair grow faster and get rid of the hideous fuzz that’s starting to grow all over your body,” she demanded.
The next day, while Alex was doing his chores, Madame demanded that he be in a dress at all times while doing house tasks. She was hosting a tea party in the afternoon and he was expected to look good in front of her guests. Alex put on the yellow dress and tied the top half of his hair into a ponytail like his sisters had made him do for them many times before. The school was out for the break so Madame had forced him to leave his earrings in for the duration to ensure the holes did not close up again. When he came downstairs, Madame told him to go put on the heels.
“A proper lady is in heels when serving tea to guests, Alexie,” she instructed.
Alex went back up and put on the heels. After struggling to walk with them in front of Madame’s friends, he was sent up.
“That was very embarrassing for me. A proper lady knows how to walk in heels and no daughter of mine will be seen like this. Starting tomorrow, you will learn to act with proper manners. Also, this face is not working. I never want to see you again without makeup. I have seen you do your sisters’ so I know you are capable of it. When I come back from the store tomorrow morning you better be properly attired,” she asserted.
The next few months persisted on like this, Alex wore dresses and earrings whenever in the house and would dress as a boy at school. Madame had bought him more heels and dresses, all of them more flamboyant than the other. As summer came around and middle school came to an end, Alex started to stay in his room most of the time. His hair had now grown past his nipple and his chest was getting larger. He was too embarrassed to go play outside because his body no longer looked like a boy in any way. In fact, he was starting to resemble a teenage girl. One August afternoon, Madame came into his room. She sat him down on the bed and started to chat with him.
“You are going into high school now and it is about time that we have a chat, Alexie. As a girl gets older, she may have a lot of questions about her body and her emotions. You will start to feel things for boys and that is okay. I want you to be comfortable talking about sex. You see Alexie, it is the duty of a girl like yourself to oblige to orders. But you need to be safe while pleasuring yourself,” Madame said, seemingly out of the blue. She reached into a bag and pulled out a purple dildo. “I got this for you, to learn how to properly handle a penis.”
Madame showed Alex how to put a condom on a dildo and explained the importance of using lube when putting a dildo up the rear end. She explained the difference in the types of lube and when they should be used. Madame got Alex to put lube on the dildo and stroke it with his hands to evenly spread it. Then she explained the importance of experiencing with someone you know for your first time. The next thing he knew, Madame had slid her hand up his dress and shoved the dildo up his ass. She started pegging him with one hand and grabbed his hands with the other.
“Don’t worry Alexie, Madame will always be here to hold your hand,” she said.
Alex had tears streaming down his face as she repeatedly pegged him. When he finally climaxed in his panties, she took the dildo out, rolled it around in his cum, and shoved it in his mouth. She held his chin with one hand while shoving the dildo in and out of his mouth with the other. After a few minutes, she took off his dress completely and started to rub his now rather large chest. She cupped his breasts and squeezed them. Madame soon took off her own clothes and strapped the dildo on. She started him pegging him from behind again while squeezing his boobs. Once he climaxed again she got up and got changed.
“You raped me. I can’t believe you raped me!” Alex screamed at her with tears streaming down his face.
“I did nothing of the sort missy. I simply showed you how good girls are supposed to behave and tried to help you out. But you simply cannot be grateful. It is time to learn a lesson. Come here and sit down,” Madame barked at him.
Alex sat down on a chair in the corner. She grabbed a hairbrush and started to comb his blonde locks back, making sure not to pull his large hoop earrings. Madame brushed some hair in the front over his face and tied the rest up into a long and sleek ponytail that hung down past his shoulders. She grabbed scissors and cut the front of his hair into long blunt bangs.
“It’s about time you learn to behave like a sissy, Alexie,” she said. “I never want to see you in anything but dresses ever again. That’s a gift for you, use it how you please,” she said as she left the dildo on his bed and walked out of the room.
Alex turned to look at himself in the mirror. His hair looked like a barbie doll now that he had bangs going down to his eyebrows. He had a sleek high ponytail to complement that draped just over his shoulder. His eyeliner was beginning to run from all of the crying. His ears dangled with large hoop earring. And as he sat naked in his chair staring at his new-found curves, he couldn’t help but place his hands over his face and start to cry again.
Dorm Room Salon
Mike had always been proud of his long hair. It had taken him all of high school to grow it out and he loved the way it flowed down to the middle of high back in thick waves. When he got accepted into college, he was excited to start a new chapter in his life and find his true personality, knowing that his long hair would be a part of his identity.
As he packed up his belongings and prepared to move into his dorm, Mike couldn't help but feel a little bit nervous. He wasn't used to living with a stranger and he wasn't sure what to expect. When he arrived at the dorm, he was relieved to find that his roommate, Sarah, seemed nice and welcoming. She had short, blonde hair and a bubbly personality.
At first, Mike and Sarah got along great. They were both busy with classes and extracurricular activities, but they still made time to hang out and get to know each other. As the weeks went by, Mike noticed that Sarah seemed to take an interest in his long hair. She would often compliment him on it and ask him how he styled it, a nice change from back home when people would look down on him.
As the months went by, Sarah's interest in Mike's hair seemed to grow. She started offering to style it for him and even convinced him to try out some new products and techniques. Mike was excited that someone was giving him so much attention and seemed to genuinely care about him. So, he let her take control of his hair care routine.
At first, the changes Sarah made to Mike's hair were subtle. She convinced him to try out a new conditioner that left his hair feeling softer, shinier and more manageable. She also introduced him to some styling products that helped to define his waves and give his hair more volume. Mike was impressed by the results and he started to enjoy the extra attention Sarah was giving to his hair.
But as time went on, Sarah's changes to Mike's hair became more and more dramatic. One evening, she asked him if she could trim his hair up a bit to clean it up. She sectioned off his hair and started cutting his hair into layers. When she was done, he had thick voluminous layers that framed his face and came down to his chest.
Thrilled with how her last experiment turned out, the next weekend Sarah decided to dye his hair. His dark brown hair with transformed into a honey gold color with blonde highlights then accentuated the layers. When she was done washing it out and blow drying it, Mike looked stunning.
As Sarah took further reigns of his hair, she began to style it every morning for him. Although it started off as ponytails and messy buns, she quickly started experimenting with more daring styles. Before his econ class, she braided his hair. As time passed she tried out French twists and updos. Mike was a little hesitant at first, but he trusted Sarah and he enjoyed the way his hair looked after she styled it.
Over the next few months, Sarah transformed Mike's long hair into a work of art. As the school year came to a close, Mike couldn't believe how much his hair had changed. He had always been proud of his long locks, but now he felt like a completely different person. As he packed up to head back home, he felt a sense of sadness. He was going to miss having his own personal hair stylist.
In a quiet town, lived a young boy named Liam. Liam was known for his compassionate heart and willingness to help others. One day, he learned about a charity that made wigs for children suffering from cancer, and he knew he had to do something to contribute. With a determined spirit, he decided to grow out his hair to donate.
As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Liam's hair began to grow longer and longer. However, his decision was met with mixed reactions, especially from his mother, Mrs. Anderson. She held traditional beliefs and firmly believed that boys should have short hair.
"Liam, I can't believe you're doing this," Mrs. Anderson said with a hint of frustration. "Why can't you just get a proper haircut like other boys?"
"But Mom, I really want to help those kids who need wigs," Liam replied earnestly.
As Liam's hair continued to grow, tensions between him and his mother increased. One day, unable to hide her disapproval any longer, Mrs. Anderson hatched a plan of retaliation. She started to style Liam's hair in ways that she thought would emphasize his disobedience.
One morning, as Liam sat in front of a mirror, Mrs. Anderson took a brush and gathered his hair into a low ponytail. She brushed through the strands carefully, her fingers working through knots with a touch of frustration. She tied the hair with a ribbon, and as she looked at Liam through the mirror, she remarked, "Maybe this will teach you the importance of a proper haircut."
Liam sighed but remained determined. He was unwavering in his mission to grow his hair for a good cause.
Weeks passed, and Mrs. Anderson's tactics grew more creative. She expertly created a high ponytail that made Liam's hair cascade down his back like a waterfall. "If you're going to look like a girl, I might as well style you like one," she muttered, a hint of mischief in her eyes.
As the weeks passed, Liam's hair reached new lengths. One evening, after Liam had spent a long day at school and extracurricular activities, Mrs. Anderson announced, "We're going for a ballet bun tonight."
Liam's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Mom, seriously?"
With gentle insistence, Mrs. Anderson gathered his hair into a neat, high bun at the crown of his head. She carefully twisted and pinned the hair until it formed a perfect bun. "There, you're ready for the stage," she teased, her lips curling into a smile.
As Liam's hair grew longer, so did his patience. He endured each new style with a quiet determination. He remained steadfast in his mission, even as his appearance became more unconventional by the day.
Mrs. Anderson's impatience grew as fast as his hair. She became more creative and daring with her hairstyling endeavors, determined to make Liam conform to her idea of what a boy should look like. One afternoon, as they stood in front of the mirror once again, she reached for the hairbrush with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Today, we're going for something a little different," Mrs. Anderson declared, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips.
Liam cast her a wary look, but he knew better than to argue. He watched as she divided his hair into two sections and deftly crafted a pair of pigtails on either side of his head. As the ribbons were tied, Liam's hair was transformed into playful tendrils that framed his face, giving him a surprisingly youthful appearance.
Liam couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of himself. "I look like a completely different person," he exclaimed, trying to find some humor in the situation.
Mrs. Anderson laughed too, a genuine sound that he hadn't heard in a while. "Well, I guess change can be good sometimes."
But as days turned into weeks, Mrs. Anderson's amusement seemed to transform into stubborn determination. One day, as Liam came home from school, he found a dress laid out on his bed, alongside the hair accessories.
"What's this?" Liam asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"It's just a dress, Liam," Mrs. Anderson replied casually, though there was a glint of mischief in her eyes.
"I can't wear this!" Liam protested, his voice tinged with panic.
Mrs. Anderson crossed her arms, her expression firm. "You've been challenging my idea of how things should be, so I thought I'd challenge your boundaries a bit too. It's just clothes, after all."
Liam was torn between frustration and exasperation. He knew his mother was trying to prove a point, but he never anticipated this level of retaliation. Still, he realized that he needed to stand up for himself and for the kids who would benefit from his donation.
With a deep breath, Liam looked at his mother and said, "Fine, I'll wear the dress. But only if you promise to stop styling my hair in girly ways."
Mrs. Anderson crossed her arms. "The dresses will stop when you cut your hair.”
Liam reluctantly slipped into the dress, feeling the fabric against his skin. He had never worn something like this before, and it felt foreign and strange. But as he looked at himself in the mirror, he realized that what mattered most was his mission to help others, not conforming to society's expectations.
As the weeks went by, it became clear that Mrs. Anderson's patience had not grown in the same way her son's hair had. Instead, her determination to reshape Liam's appearance had taken on a life of its own. Every day after school, Liam would come home to find a new dress laid out on his bed, accompanied by an array of hair accessories.
At first, Liam would protest, pleading with his mother to understand how uncomfortable the situation made him feel. "Mom, I'm doing something good by growing my hair to help others. Why are you making it so difficult for me?"
But Mrs. Anderson seemed to be fueled by a stubborn resolve. She insisted that if he was going to defy traditional norms, she would do so right alongside him. The hairstyles she crafted became more and more intricate, intricate braids interwoven with ribbons and delicate pins, each design more feminine than the last.
One day, after tying his hair in a series of braids that cascaded down his back, Mrs. Anderson stood back to admire her handiwork. "You have such beautiful hair, Liam. It's a shame not to show it off."
Liam sighed, his frustration bubbling to the surface.
His mother's expression softened for a moment, but her determination was far from waning. Instead, she reached for a particularly elaborate dress, one with lace and ruffles that seemed more suited to a fairy tale than reality. "Tonight, we're going all out," she declared, a twinkle in her eye.
Liam knew that arguing was futile, so he begrudgingly changed into the dress. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. He wasn't sure how much longer he could endure his mother's whimsical experiments.
Despite his discomfort, Liam's spirit remained unbroken. He focused on the reason he had started this journey in the first place—the children who would benefit from his donation. His classmates would tease him, and he faced strange glances on the street, but he held onto his determination.
Despite Liam's plea for compromise, Mrs. Anderson's resistance continued to grow stronger. She became fixated on her mission to reshape her son's appearance to suit her own vision. One day, as Liam returned home from school, he found a different kind of scene in his room. His heart sank as he saw the camera set up on a tripod, aimed directly at his bed where another dress and hair accessories lay waiting.
"Mom, what's going on?" Liam asked, his voice tinged with frustration.
Mrs. Anderson looked up from the camera with a determined expression. "Liam, I want to capture these moments so that someday you can look back and see the lengths you went to for your cause."
Liam's heart sank. He didn't want his private struggles to be documented and shared without his consent. "Mom, this isn't fair. Can't you understand that this isn't about appearances anymore?"
But his mother seemed deaf to his pleas, too focused on her own agenda. Days turned into weeks, and the photos of Liam dressed in various ways began to fill photo albums around their home.
Then came the day that changed everything. Mrs. Anderson surprised Liam by taking him out in public, to the bustling mall. She led him through the crowded hallways, his heart racing with embarrassment. He was aware of the curious glances and whispered comments that followed them. It felt like everyone was staring at him, making him feel even more out of place.
Finally, they arrived at a high-end hair salon. Mrs. Anderson led Liam inside, her determination unyielding. She spoke to the stylist with a confidence that Liam had never seen before, explaining her desires for his hair. "Trim it a bit, clean up the ends, and give him a fresh look."
Liam was ushered into a chair, his heart pounding. As the stylist draped the cape around his shoulders, he felt a sense of powerlessness. He knew he had lost control over his own appearance.
The stylist worked diligently, cutting away inches of hair. With each snip, Liam felt a mixture of sadness and relief. His long locks fell to the floor, and when the stylist was finished, he looked at his reflection and saw a face that he barely recognized.
But Mrs. Anderson's plan didn't end there. As the stylist finished, she produced a small box. "Would you like me to pierce your ears?" she asked, her tone casual.
Liam's eyes widened in shock. He had never even considered the idea of having pierced ears. He looked at his mother, pleading with his eyes for her to reconsider, but she simply nodded.
"Go ahead," Mrs. Anderson said with an air of finality.
Liam winced as the earrings were pierced through his earlobes. The sensation was foreign and uncomfortable, and he felt a twinge of resentment towards his mother for pushing him so far.
When the ordeal was finally over, Mrs. Anderson beamed at Liam. "You look so lovely, dear. This was a good change."
Liam's emotions were a whirlwind—anger, frustration, vulnerability, but also a renewed sense of determination. He knew he couldn't allow his mother to dictate his choices any longer. As they left the salon, he took a deep breath and looked at his reflection in a store window.
He had changed, physically and emotionally, but he was still the same person at heart. And he was ready to take charge of his journey once again, embracing his mission to help others while staying true to himself.
Liam's summer break continued with a relentless wave of changes brought on by his mother's determination. Each day seemed to bring new challenges, pushing him further outside of his comfort zone. And yet, amidst the turmoil, a quiet determination began to grow within Liam—a determination to reclaim his identity and assert his autonomy.
One morning, as sunlight filtered through the curtains, Liam awoke to his mother gently brushing his hair. He lay there, his mind foggy from sleep, as she skillfully shaped his hair into an intricate fishtail braid.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," his mother greeted with a cheerful tone that didn't quite match the turmoil in Liam's heart.
As he sat up, his braid draped over his shoulder, Mrs. Anderson held up a dress that matched the ribbon she was using to tie his hair. "Today, we're going for a coordinated look. It's a beautiful summer day, and I want you to look your best."
Liam's protests were met with a familiar stubbornness that he had grown accustomed to. He changed into the dress, his frustration evident in his eyes as he looked at his reflection. He felt like a stranger in his own skin, like an actor playing a role that wasn't his.
But the ordeal didn't end there. With his hair and dress in place, Mrs. Anderson reached for a makeup kit. "Just a touch of makeup to complete the look," she said, her enthusiasm unwavering.
Liam felt a wave of discomfort as his mother applied makeup to his face. He looked at the reflection of his altered appearance in the mirror and felt a pang of sadness. He missed the days when he felt in control of his own body, when his choices were his own.
With the makeup applied, his mother stepped back, seemingly satisfied with her creation. "There you go, Liam. You look absolutely stunning."
Liam's clenched fists betrayed his inner turmoil. He wanted to shout, to demand his right to make decisions about his own body. But he also knew that his journey was about more than just appearances—it was about the children he wanted to help through his donation.
Later that day, as Liam reluctantly accompanied his mother to a store, he braced himself for what might come next. He watched as his mother navigated the aisles and stopped in the lingerie section.
"Let's find something that suits your new look," Mrs. Anderson said, a hint of excitement in her voice.
Liam's heart sank as he realized what his mother was looking for. She picked out a training bra and matching underwear, both adorned with delicate patterns and lace.
"Try them on, Liam," she instructed, handing him the items with a cheerful smile.
Liam felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration as he entered the fitting room. He changed into the undergarments, feeling exposed and vulnerable. The mirror reflected an image he no longer recognized—his hair styled, his makeup applied, and now, his appearance further altered by the undergarments he wore.
As he stepped out of the fitting room, his mother's eyes gleamed with a mix of pride and accomplishment. "See, Liam? You're embracing your true self."
Despite Liam's attempts to assert his autonomy and reclaim his identity, his mother's resistance remained steadfast. Mrs. Anderson seemed determined to shape her son into a version of herself that aligned with her beliefs and desires. The summer drew to a close, and the tension between them grew palpable.
One evening, as the sun set and cast a warm glow over their home, Mrs. Anderson approached Liam with a serious expression. She sat him down, her gaze unwavering. "Liam, I've been doing a lot of thinking. I've realized that if you want to have long hair like a girl and dress like one, then maybe you should be one."
Liam's heart skipped a beat, and he felt a mix of confusion and apprehension. "What do you mean, Mom?"
Mrs. Anderson's voice was unwavering as she explained her plan. "I've enrolled you in the next school year as Lea. You'll start as a new student, and you'll have the opportunity to fully embrace your desire to be a girl."
Liam's mind raced as he processed the magnitude of his mother's decision. He had never considered transitioning or presenting himself as a girl. He had always been Liam, a boy with a compassionate heart, and the thought of becoming someone else entirely was overwhelming.
"Mom, I don't think I'm ready for something like that," Liam said, his voice trembling.
Mrs. Anderson's expression remained stern. "You've been challenging our norms, Liam, and I thought this might be the best way for you to truly understand what you're asking for. It's time for you to fully commit to your choices."
Liam felt a surge of frustration. He had never asked for this, never desired to change his gender. He just wanted the freedom to be himself and help others in his own way. He tried to reason with his mother, to make her understand the difference between growing his hair out and completely changing who he was.
"Mom, this isn't about becoming a different gender. It's about being true to myself while making a difference in the world," Liam pleaded.
But Mrs. Anderson's determination was unyielding. She believed that this was the only way to make Liam truly understand the weight of his choices. The argument continued into the night, with neither of them willing to back down.
As the weeks passed, Liam found himself increasingly isolated. His mother's plan had left him feeling confused, alienated, and unsure of his place in the world. He began to question his own identity, wondering if he had somehow brought this upon himself by challenging his mother's beliefs.
The new school year arrived, and with it came a sense of dread. Liam stood outside the school gates, his heart heavy. He felt like he was stepping into a new life that wasn't his own, a life that his mother had crafted for him. As he walked through the halls as Lea, his unease grew with every step.
The students' curious glances and whispers only intensified his discomfort. He longed for the simplicity of his old life as Liam, the boy who had dared to grow his hair out for a good cause. He missed his identity, his friendships, and the sense of purpose that had once fueled him.
Liam's journey took an unexpected turn as he navigated this new reality. The weight of his mother's decision was overwhelming, and he found himself yearning for a way to reconcile his true self with the persona he was being forced to inhabit.
In the wake of Mrs. Anderson's persistence and Liam's transformation into Lea, the situation grew increasingly complex and dire. Lea found herself grappling with a reality she hadn't chosen, a reality that her mother had imposed upon her. The weight of her new identity felt suffocating, like a mask she was forced to wear.
As the months passed, Lea's relationship with her mother strained further. Mrs. Anderson's determination to reshape her child's identity took a dark turn, culminating in a visit to a doctor under the guise of Lea's supposed desire to be a girl.
The doctor, unaware of the truth, prescribed hormones to facilitate Lea's physical transition. With each dosage, Lea's body began to change—her figure started to align with her mother's vision of her as a girl. The process was as physically painful as it was emotionally tumultuous, and Lea felt increasingly trapped in a narrative that was not her own.
Lea's interactions with friends and classmates grew more complicated as well. The secret she carried weighed heavily on her heart, and she felt isolated even when surrounded by others. She struggled to connect with her true self amidst the facade she had been forced to create.
The toll on Lea's mental health was profound. She sought refuge in quiet moments of introspection, questioning the authenticity of her identity and the path she was on. Her sense of self felt like a mirage, shifting and unsteady, as if the ground beneath her was constantly shifting.
As the months turned into a year, Lea's appearance had fully transformed, fulfilling the vision her mother had imposed upon her. She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her reflection—a reflection that was no longer Liam's, but a distorted version of herself.
Despite the tumultuous journey Lea had endured, her mother's resistance remained as unyielding as ever. Mrs. Anderson continued to shape her child's appearance to fit her own vision, despite the emotional toll it had taken on Lea. The tension in their relationship continued, but Lea's newfound resolve to reclaim her identity burned stronger than ever.
Every morning, before school, Lea found herself in front of the mirror, her mother's hands deftly working through her long hair. Some days it was intricate braids that weaved across her scalp, while other days it was a sleek, long ponytail that cascaded down her back. Each hairstyle was a reminder of her mother's control, a visual representation of the struggle she faced between her true self and the facade she was forced to uphold.
Lea's interactions with her friends and classmates remained complex. She navigated her days as Lea, a character she had been made to portray, while secretly holding onto the memory of who she truly was—Liam, a compassionate and determined young man who had set out to make a difference.
As the school year continued, Lea's frustration grew. The charade had taken its toll, and she longed for the day when she could shed the false identity her mother had created. She sought solace in the few moments of privacy she had, escaping to her room to confide in her journal, the pages of which bore witness to her struggle and resilience.
Despite the challenges, Lea's determination to make a positive impact never wavered. She channeled her energy into her charity work, even as she felt trapped within the narrative that her mother had imposed upon her. The children she aimed to help remained at the forefront of her mind, giving her the strength to endure each day.
Lea's journey had been one of complexity, adversity, and ultimately, self-discovery. Her once long hair, now down to her waist, had grown more rapidly due to the hormones that had altered her appearance. The weight of her mother's persistent resistance had shifted from controlling her hair and outfits to reshaping her very identity. But as her hair continued to grow, so did Lea's determination to regain control over her own life.
One day, Mrs. Anderson led Lea to a hair salon, the place where Lea would finally cut the hair that had become both a symbol of her journey and her mother's control. As she sat in the stylist's chair, Lea felt a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.
The stylist asked, "So, how would you like your hair cut today?"
Lea hesitated, her eyes scanning her reflection in the mirror. She saw the feminine body she had been forced into, the earrings that adorned her ears, and the makeup that masked her true self. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she made a decision.
"I want it shoulder length," Lea said, her voice resolute.
The stylist nodded and began to work, brushing her hair and gathering it in a long braid before skillfully cutting the hair that had grown under the guise of another identity. Lea's heart raced as the scissors snipped through the strands, a mixture of relief and unease washing over her.
Once the cut was complete, Lea looked at herself in the mirror. Her shoulder-length hair swayed gently as she moved, a reflection of the person she had become under circumstances she hadn't chosen. She watched as the stylist parted her hair and gathered it into two long bunches that tumbled down to her shoulders. She handed the cut braid to her. A braid that represented both her journey and her desire to take back control.
As if in a trance, Lea took the cut braid in her hands, feeling its weight and texture. Lea's eyes welled up with tears as she held the hair, a symbolic gesture of embracing both her past and her present. She looked at her reflection—the makeup, the feminine body, the shoulder-length hair—and realized that, despite the turmoil, she had found her own path, even within the constraints that had been placed upon her.
As she left the salon, the weight of the braid in her hand was a reminder of the strength she had found within herself. Lea knew that her journey wasn't over, that the road ahead was still uncertain, but she was ready to navigate it with authenticity and a renewed sense of purpose. And as she looked ahead, she felt a sense of hope that she could continue making a positive impact on the world, while staying true to the person she had become, even if it was different from the person she had once envisioned.
Taylor had always been a bit of a rebel. He enjoyed standing out and making his own decisions, and one of the ways he did that was by keeping his hair long. It was a point of pride for him, as it was a resistance against the status quo.
However, his parents had always been a bit more conservative, stemming from their careers in finance and law. They were used to the corporate look and wanted nothing more than to have their son contribute to society. They encouraged Taylor to cut his hair thinking that it would make him look more professional and mature. After high school, Taylor chose not to go to college and would pick up random off jobs around town.
Ultimately his dad got sick of it and wanted to motivate Taylor to get his life together. He told him to cut his hair and get a job as an assistant at his asset management firm or move out. Taylor had always resisted the pressure to cut his hair, but given the ultimatum, decided to give in. He figured he would get a small trim and make his parents happy enough to let him continue living his life the way he was. That evening, he made an appointment at the salon.
As he sat in the chair, the stylist started by washing his hair. She soaked down his auburn locks and worked shampoo into his hair. After some massaging and lathering, she rinsed his hair and applied conditioner. His hair was stretched out and gently combed before being rinsed out again. After bringing him back to the chair, she asked Taylor what he wanted. Taylor hesitated for a moment before deciding to just go for a simple trim. He didn't want to cut off too much of his beloved locks.
The stylist nodded and got to work, snipping away at Taylor‘s hair with expert precision. Taylor closed his eyes and tried to relax, enjoying the feeling of having his hair done. The stylist took listened to what he wanted and brought his chest length hair up two inches.
As she snipped away, she chatted with him, telling Taylor about her life and asking him about his. Taylor found himself opening up to her, telling her about his struggles with his parents and how he felt like he was constantly being told what to do.
The stylist listened sympathetically, and when she was finished cutting Taylor's hair, she turned to him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"I have an idea," she said. "Why don't we give you a little makeover? Something to really show off your personality and help you get a job?"
Taylor liked the idea, but moreover he loved feeling heard, and before he knew it, he was agreeing to let her give him a complete makeover.
First, she styled his hair in loose, beachy waves, using a curling iron to create soft, natural-looking curls. She added a bit of product to give his hair volume and texture, and when she was finished, Taylor was amazed by how different he looked.
Next, the stylist turned her attention to Taylor's face. She turned the chair around to face her. She then waxed his eyebrows into a characteristic thin, feminine arch. Next, she started with makeup, appling a light foundation to even out his skin tone, and then adding a hint of blush to give his cheeks a rosy glow. She expertly lined his eyes with a smoky eye shadow and finished off the look with a coat of mascara.
When she was finished, he looked in the mirror, and saw the transformation that the stylist had worked on him. She was right, he did look like a completely different person, it’s just that he looked like a woman now. Taylor was momentarily shocked, only to realize that this would be a great way to get back at his dad.
When the stylist was finished, Taylor paid for the cut and makeover and walked out of the salon, practicing his model strut. His parents were shocked when they saw him. He told his dad that he got it cleaned up and looks professional now so he lived up to his end of the bargain. His father agreed and insisted that he would live up to his end of the bargain too!
“Regardless, you’re coming into my office tomorrow to work as an assistant. Make sure you don’t wipe off the makeup before then, I’ll need you to be looking professional.”
The next morning, his mother came into his room and dropped a navy pant suit and white blouse on his bed for him to wear.
“It would only be fitting since you insist on keeping your hair long,” she pressed.
He reluctantly went over to the office that morning where he learned the ropes of managing the front desk. Over the next week, Taylor grew more comfortable using a high pitch voice at work. As he was leaving on Friday, a client asked him to play golf over the weekend. Just as Taylor was about to say no, his father came up behind him and placed his hand on Taylor’s shoulder.
“She would love to join,” he said.
Taylor had no option but to keep up the charade and go. He didn’t want to lose his dad a client and get kicked out of the house. The next morning, he went back to the salon and asked Chantelle to wax his arms and legs to remove what little hair he had. She had him take off his clothes and throw on a robe. To his surprise Chantelle took off all of his hair from the neck down. He told her about the past week and how he is going to play golf with a client. Chantelle wanted to make sure he looked the high-class part and reapplied makeup. She then straightened his hair and tied the top section back into a high ponytail.
Taylor stopped by the store on his way to buy a black skirt and threw on the white blouse his mom had given him. As Taylor greeted Jack on the day of their golf outing, Jack couldn't help but be captivated by "Taylor's" radiant smile and the charm that seemed to emanate from every pore. He didn't suspect for a moment that Taylor was, in fact, a man.
"Hello, Taylor, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," Jack said with a warm smile, extending his hand.
"The pleasure is all mine, Jack," Taylor replied, trying his best to maintain his feminine persona. "I've heard so much about your golf skills, and I'm excited to play a round with you."
They set off on the golf course, and as they played, Jack couldn't help but notice how gracefully Taylor moved and how her auburn hair seemed to catch the sunlight in the most enchanting way.
"You have such beautiful hair," Jack remarked, gently running his fingers through Taylor's locks. "It's mesmerizing."
Blushing slightly, Taylor thanked him, secretly amazed at how well his disguise seemed to be working. As the day progressed, they engaged in delightful conversations, sharing stories and laughter. Taylor found himself drawn to Jack's charisma and kindness, and he couldn't help but feel conflicted about deceiving him.
During a break in the game, Jack took Taylor's hand in his and said, "You know, there's something about you that's different. You're not like most women I've met. There's an air of sophistication and understanding about you."
Caught off guard, Taylor stammered, trying to maintain his facade. "Oh, well, thank you, Jack. I suppose I've always believed in being authentic and genuine in all aspects of life."
Jack smiled, seemingly lost in thought. "Authenticity is a rare quality these days. It's refreshing to meet someone like you."
As the sun began to set, they finished their round of golf and headed for a nearby café. The evening breeze gently brushed against Taylor's face, and he felt conflicted. He realized that he had grown fond of Jack and couldn't bear the thought of continuing the deception.
At the café, as they sat across from each other, Taylor mustered the courage to come clean. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Jack, there's something I need to tell you. I’m a guy. I disguised myself as a woman to spite my dad and things got a little out of hand."
Jack looked surprised but not upset. "I must admit, I had a hunch that something was amiss. However, I appreciate your honesty, Tay."
Feeling relieved and endeared at the use of a nickname, Taylor continued, "I understand if you're upset or disappointed. I never intended to hurt you, but I had a great time."
Jack chuckled softly. "You’re beautiful,” Jack said as he caressed Taylor’s exposed thigh. “It’s getting late now, I can drop you back home,” he offered. “Maybe we can go back to your place instead,” Taylor replied with a wink.
Rohan grew up with a traditional Indian mother. She held up her values and made sure he adhered to them too. When he didn’t there was strict punishment to enforce good behaviour. For the most part, Rohan was a good kid, except that he wanted to grow his hair out.
When Rohan was about thirteen years old he entered the notorious rebellious teenage phase. Rohan decided this was it and he was growing his hair out for good. It was already decently long, covering up the top of his ear. But Rohan wanted his hair to his shoulders. His mother noticed when his hair got to the bottom of his ear and told Rohan to cut it. Rohan adamantly refused and said he wanted longer hair. His mother insisted that if he wants to have longer hair, he must take care of it. She grabbed a bottle of hair oil and started giving him a head massage.
This continued for the next two months. Rohan didn’t mind because it felt relaxing. Besides, oil is good for growing long and healthy hair. One day when Rohan came home, his mother made another comment on his hair length. By this point, it was approaching his chin. She told him to sit down and said she will be back. Rohan figured that she would be grabbing hair oil and started playing on his phone. His mother returned and started giving him a hair massage. Rohan was too distracted on his phone to pay much attention to her. She warned him to get off his phone but he was in the middle of a game and didn’t want to stop.
Rohan finally put his phone down 20 minutes later and agreed to go play outside for a bit. He ran into Sally, a close friend while he was playing basketball. “Cute hair,” said Sally. Rohan was confused and pulled out his phone to check himself out in the camera. All he could see was his hair was parted in the center and appeared slicked back. He didn’t think much of it and continued playing with her. Rohan was used to having his hair fly in his face when playing basketball but noticed that it was out of his eyes today. Again, he didn’t think much of it. His mom probably tucked it behind his ears.
When Rohan came back inside, he told his mother that his hair didn’t come in his eyes today and thanked her for fixing it up earlier. When Rohan went up to change after supper, he looked in the mirror and was horrified to see that his mother had tied his hair up into short, fluffy pigtails towards the back of his head. He hadn’t even realized that his hair was long enough to tie back, not that he would ever keep it in pigtails anyway. Rohan ran downstairs to confront his mom about his embarrassing ordeal.
“I told you to keep care of it and long hair must be tied back when playing. Get used to it. Besides, you would have noticed if you weren’t always on your phone,” said his mother.
As Rohan tried to sleep that night, he kept thinking about how Sally had called his pigtails cute. The next day when Rohan came back from school, he went to play outside with sally right away. When he came in for dinner, his mother was angry that he hadn’t followed her rules.
“I said long hair must be tied back when playing,” she scolded.
She ordered Rohan to sit down and rubbed oil through his hair. She then tied in into French braided pigtails. His dark, oiled hair glimmered in the light. Rohan felt embarrassed but could not say anything. He knew he would have to be more careful.
The following day before Rohan went out to play, he tied his hair into a half ponytail. His hair wasn’t long enough for a full ponytail but at least this looked far less girly than any style his mother would force him to wear. Sally commented on his hair again and called it cute. She asked if she could play with it and Rohan agreed. She teased the front of his hair and parted it to the side. It looked like a girly bob but Sally insisted it was stylish. She then proceeded to spray it with a flowery hairspray. When Rohan came in, his mother was mad that his hair wasn’t tied back. Rohan tried to explain himself but she wasn’t having it and tied it back into pigtails. She also noticed the lilac smell on him. “I don’t like this smell. If you want to smell like nice flowers, here you go,” she said as she scrubbed a lavender scrub onto his chest. She loved the smell so much that she insisted he uses a lavender scrub every day over his entire body.
Rohan’s sneaky tactics failed over and over again for the next month. Eventually, his hair was long enough to tie back into a proper ponytail. He had won. Sally seemed to like his long hair too. She thought the ponytail looked a little disproportional to his head and commented that it would look better if his hair was longer. Rohan’s life continued seemingly as normal for the next few months. By now his hair was down to his shoulders. He would place it in a low ponytail to keep it out of his face when playing. His thick, straight hair looked a little girly but that was offset by the low ponytail. His mother frequently massaged it with oil but didn’t comment on the style at all.
By now Rohan was almost fourteen and noticed that his chest was getting soar and his voice still hadn’t deepened. He had very little body hair to begin with but most of it had fallen out in the past few months. Rohan's mother had noticed it too. “Your chest jiggles too much when you play basketball, fix it or I will,” threatened his mother. Rohan didn’t know how to fix it so he did nothing about it. The next day, when he came back from school, there was a bag on his desk. Rohan saw there was a training bra inside. He confronted his mother and asked what that was. “It will help keep your chest together when you play outside. Here let me show you how to wear it,” said his mother. As Rohan’s mother put the bra on him he felt very uncomfortable. His mom fastened the bra and undid his hair. she combed his silky long hair out and told him that he needed to trim up the ends. “I don’t care if you are growing it out, you need to maintain it.” Rohan’s mother tied his hair back up into a ponytail a little bit higher than he usually did and let him go out to play.
Sally commented on his ponytail while they were playing basketball. “I like it higher like that, it looks longer and bounces more when you run.” While Rohan went to do a lay-up, his shirt pulled a little to the side. “Wait are you wearing a bra,” asked Sally. Rohan turned red and tried to cover it up. “Come with me,” she said as she led him back to her bedroom.
Sally told Rohan that it was fine to wear a bra if his chest moved too much while playing. She took off her shirt to show him her bra too. “Come on touch it,” insisted Sally as she grabbed his hand and held it against the breasts. Sally was a year older and had decent sized boobs. “That black color training bra stands out more under a white shirt. Here I have like 10 old ones that I’m not using them anymore. You can have them,” she said as she handed him a bag of old bras. Rohan silently took them. What else was he supposed to do?
Sally then began playing with his ponytail. she sat behind him on her bed and took out his hair tie. “You have beautiful hair. How is it so silky? I’m so jealous,” she said. “I massage it with oil almost every day,” he replied. Sally grabbed a bottle of baby oil and sat down in from of him. He proceeded to massage her long blonde hair. afterward, he tied it up into a bun. “It’s best to tie it up after so the oil doesn’t get on your clothes,” he explained. Sally did the same to him and put his hair into a high bun. Only she secured it with a pink hair tie that had a bow on it.
When he came home, his mom saw his hair and adored it. “You should keep it like this from now one, even at home. It is too long to wear down... What’s in the bag” she demanded. Before he could speak, she opened it up and saw all the training bras. “Perfect, you will wear them to school from now on. It is inappropriate to have breasts that big and not wear a bra,” she stated. Rohan asked why his chest was so big, to begin with. It’s not like he was fat. And why hadn’t his voice deepened or facial hair come in? “It must be your long hair. You want long hair like a girl so your body must be wanting to become a girl too,” she said, purposely leaving out the lavender scrub she had ordered him to use every day.
The next day at school he wore a training bra and felt a little embarrassed the whole time, wanting to make sure no one knew his secret. When he came home, his mother told him that he won’t be able to play outside today because she was taking him to the hair salon. “You need to get it trimmed remember,” she said. Rohan pleaded with his mom not to force him to cut his hair. He knew what getting it trimmed mean. She wanted to give rid of it. When they arrived at the salon, the lady didn’t even bother asking Rohan what he wanted. His mother had already given instructions over the phone beforehand. Rohan couldn't bare see his mane gone. He closed his eyes and waited for it to all be over. Snip, snip. When he opened his eyes back up, he was surprised to find a straight, long, side-parted bob grazing over his shoulders. His mother, true to her word, only got the ends cleaned up.
The hairdresser noticed his training bra and assumed he must be a girl. “Sweetie, I noticed that your ears aren’t pierced. If you want we can do that for you,” she asked. Before Rohan could say no, his mother chimed in and agreed to it. Click, click. That’s two piercings for the right ear. Click, click. And that’s two for the left. The stylist put in 4 small hoops, 2 in each ear, and then turned Rohan’s head forward again. She played around with his hair, stroking her hands through it. “You know what you need, a nose piercing,” she advised. Rohan’s mother loved the idea and insisted she do it right away. Rohan couldn’t bare see this. He closed his eyes and pretended it was all a dream. When he opened them back up, there was a small gold hoop hanging from his nose. His mother paid the lady and they left the salon.
Back at home, Rohan was having a dilemma. With his hair now cut into a girly bob, and the nose and ear piercings, not to mention the training bra, how was he supposed to go back to school tomorrow as a guy? “Hey, you wanted this. You wanted to grow your hair out and that is what caused all of this. See what happens when you don’t listen to me. Now we can tie your hair up in a bun tomorrow and you can tell everyone that you wanted to get the piercings,” she said. The next morning, when Rohan came downstairs, his mom tied his hair up into a high ballet bun. There was no point in arguing.
Sally loved his earrings. She showed him her jewelry box and all the fun things he could do with his outfit now. She tried on a bunch of different earrings on him. In the end, she concluded that the hoops his mother had chosen for him looked the best. She took his hair out of the high bun so she could see what the earrings looked like partially covered. To her surprise. A beautiful bob came down. “I see you got your hair cut, it looks beautiful,” she said while combing his hair. She ended up tying it into a high ponytail before sending him back home.
The next few months proceeded the same way. Rohan continued wearing his training bras every day and left his hair in a bun. His hair had gotten much longer now, longer than he had ever wanted it to be. With his silky tresses extending down past his chest now, it was getting to be more of a hassle than anything. His chest was also growing. The training bras barely fit him anymore and he was beginning to show noticeable cleavage. High school was about to start next month and Rohan needed to figure out a solution. His mother noticed his worrying face and decided to deal with the problem.
She came back home one day with a set of B cup bras and told Rohan to take off his clothes. Rohan took off his shirt but she insisted he strip down naked. Rohan’s mother placed a bright red bra on him and then slid some matching panties on. She then took down his hair from the bun and brushed it into two low ponytails on each side of his head. His mother took the ponytails and braided them one by one to create braided pigtails. Next, she took out his small hoop earrings and put in larger hoops in two of the holes. She then walked him over to the mirror to show him his new look. “I have registered you as a girl at your new school. No need to worry, no one will question it,” she reassured. “But mom I don’t want to be a girl. I just wanted long hair,” he complained. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” she said, “those large breasts, your earrings, your long hair styled in neatly braided pigtails. Do you honestly think you look like a boy? Besides, none of this would have happened if you didn’t grow your hair out. You wanted long hair like a girl, well sweetie look in the mirror, you look like a beautiful long-haired girl.”
The man with the unruly mane of long, dark hair stepped into the dimly lit club, his eyes scanning the room with a sense of detachment that had become a habit. His hair, a cascade of midnight strands, flowed down his back like a rebellious river. It was his signature, a defiant statement against conformity, and an unspoken challenge to a world that preferred neatly cropped conformity. He was no stranger to curious glances, smirks, and whispered comments as he moved through the crowd. Tonight, however, would be different.
The girl with the short, fiery-red hair stood out like a flame in the shadows. She was a whirlwind of confidence and vibrancy, moving to the music with an infectious energy. Her short hair framed her face in a way that accentuated her sharp features and captivating green eyes. She spotted him from across the room, her gaze fixed on his long hair, an enigmatic smile playing at the corner of her lips. She couldn't resist the allure of his dark tresses, and something told her that tonight was the night she would unveil the mystery beneath that wild mane.
Their eyes met, and there was an electric connection, a silent understanding that transcended the pulsating rhythm of the club. She approached him, her red lips parting in a seductive smile, her short hair bouncing with each step. "Hey there," she purred, her voice weaving its own kind of magic.
He met her gaze with a smirk, accustomed to the attention but intrigued by her boldness. "Hello," he replied, his tone revealing nothing but a hint of amusement.
"Buy me a drink?" she asked, her green eyes sparkling with mischief.
He signaled the bartender and ordered two drinks, watching her closely as she leaned in, her fiery hair brushing his cheek. "What's your name?" he inquired, genuinely curious.
"Call me Scarlett," she said, her voice a sultry melody.
As the night wore on, they danced, talked, and laughed, the connection between them deepening with every moment. The magnetic pull was undeniable, and it was clear that their paths had converged for a reason. The club's closing hour loomed, but neither of them was ready to part ways.
"Want to come to my place?" Scarlett proposed, her voice a whispered promise.
He hesitated for only a moment, then nodded, his heart pounding with anticipation.
At Scarlett's apartment, the air was charged with desire and the unspoken promise of transformation. She led him to the bathroom, where the mirrors were lined with bulbs that cast a soft, flattering glow. She handed him a silk robe. "Why don't you slip into this?" she suggested, her voice dripping with sensuality.
He did as she asked, stepping out of his clothes and into the robe, his long hair cascading down his back. Scarlett couldn't help but admire the sight before her. "You know," she said, her voice low and seductive, "your hair is magnificent, but I have a feeling it could be even more captivating."
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued and slightly amused. "What do you have in mind, Scarlett?"
Scarlett's grin was positively wicked as she began to gather her tools and prepare her workstation. "A transformation, my dear. One that will make you unforgettable." She motioned for him to sit in front of the mirror, and the journey into the unknown began.
With the skill of a master, Scarlett worked her magic. She carefully combed through his hair, sectioning it off and snipping with precision. The sharp scissors made their way through the dark strands, creating layers and texture. She moved with a graceful confidence, her hands an extension of her vision.
As she cut, they exchanged flirty banter. "I must admit," he said with a smirk, "I didn't expect to end up in a stranger's bathroom getting a haircut tonight."
Scarlett's laughter was like music. "Life is full of surprises, isn't it? And you, my dear, are my most delightful one yet."
The transformation continued, and as the last strand fell to the floor, he couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation. His hair, once an impenetrable shield, was now a work of art, a reflection of Scarlett's vision. It framed his face in a way that enhanced his features and drew attention to his eyes.
Scarlett stepped back, her eyes fixed on her creation in the mirror. "There," she declared, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "What do you think?"
He turned to admire himself in the mirror, a grin of genuine surprise and approval crossing his face. "I never thought I'd see myself like this."
Their eyes locked in the reflection, and the moment lingered, charged with a new kind of intensity.
"It suits you," Scarlett whispered, her short hair brushing against his cheek.
Putting down her scissors, Scarlett began the art of the blowout. She wielded the hair dryer like a maestro conducting an orchestra, and the warm air enveloped his hair, lifting and volumizing it. As she worked, she occasionally leaned in close, her short hair brushing against him, sending shivers down his spine.
Her voice, like a sultry whisper, filled the air. "I can't help but think that you and I are quite the pair, don't you?"
He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "A most unexpected pair, but an intriguing one."
With the blowout complete, his hair was transformed into a glossy, voluminous cascade of dark silk. It shone under the bathroom lights, a testament to Scarlett's skill and vision. She stepped back to admire her work. "You look amazing," she declared, her eyes locked onto his reflection.
He couldn't help but smile at the sight of himself. "I never thought I'd see myself like this."
Scarlett, however, wasn't finished. She gathered his hair and pulled it into a high ponytail, securing it with a hair tie. The transformation was stunning. His hair, now tied in that high ponytail, framed his face and accentuated his features in a way he had never imagined.
She stepped closer, her voice low and inviting. "You know, you might just be the most stunning person I've ever had the pleasure of transforming."
He met her gaze in the mirror, the connection between them intensifying with each moment. "I have to say, Scarlett, you have a gift."
She leaned in, her short hair brushing against his cheek, and their lips met in a passionate kiss, sealing the unspoken promise of what lay ahead.
"Hey," she began, her voice tinged with hesitation. "I have something I need to tell you."
He looked at her, concern and curiosity filling his eyes. "What is it, Scarlett?"
She took a deep breath and spoke her truth. "I'm a lesbian."
The words hung in the air, heavy and laden with significance. He gazed into her eyes, his own filled with curiosity. "Oh?"
Scarlett's gaze never wavered. "I wanted you to know because I care about you, and I didn't want to hide a part of who I am."
He reached out to caress her short hair, a tender smile forming on his lips. "I care about you too, Scarlett, and I respect your honesty."
Scarlett's mischievous smile returned. "I have a little surprise for you," she said, her voice teasing.
He raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "A surprise, huh? I'm intrigued."
Scarlett reached for her drawer and pulled out delicate, lacy lingerie. She handed it to him, her short hair brushing against his cheek. "Put this on," she instructed, her voice a sultry promise.
He took the lingerie, studying the delicate lace and fabric. "You want me to wear this?"
Scarlett nodded, her gaze locked onto his with a seductive intensity. "I think you'll look absolutely stunning in it."
He slipped into the panties and bra, his high ponytail cascading down his back, the lacy fabric clinging to his frame. In the soft bedroom light, he felt exposed, yet strangely liberated.
Scarlett's eyes roamed over his transformed appearance, her gaze hungry with desire. "You're breathtaking," she whispered.
Scarlett reclined on the bed, her short, fiery-red hair a mesmerizing contrast to the creamy sheets. She looked at him, her playful smile laced with intention. "You know," she began, her voice low and seductive, "I have a little idea."
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What kind of idea?"
Scarlett's fingers trailed a path down his high ponytail, her voice a tantalizing promise. "I want to transform you into my girlfriend, Saffron. Just for tonight."
He studied her with a mix of curiosity and desire. "Saffron, huh? What kind of transformation are we talking about?"
Scarlett's smile widened, and she began to gather her tools once again. With an artist's touch, she began to work her magic, turning him into the vision of Saffron that she had in mind.
She started with makeup, her hands skillfully applying foundation and concealer to even out his skin. With a careful touch, she defined his eyes with smoky shadows and elongated his lashes. The transformation continued as she added blush and lipstick, choosing shades that enhanced his features and gave him an alluring, feminine glow.
As she worked, they exchanged flirty banter. "I love how you caress my face" he commented, his voice warm with appreciation.
She grinned. "I’m going to make you into my perfect date"
Scarlett continued her work, selecting a sexy, black lace dress that clung to his newly transformed figure. The dress had a plunging neckline and an alluring thigh-high slit, perfectly accentuating his feminine allure.
He stood there, looking at himself in the mirror, a mixture of surprise and satisfaction in his eyes. "I can't believe I'm looking at myself like this."
Scarlett's voice was a sultry melody. "You make a stunning woman."
As a final touch, Scarlett handed him a pair of black stilettos, and he slipped them on with a hint of hesitancy. He found himself adjusting to the new persona of "Saffron," his high ponytail framing his face in a way that was undeniably seductive.
Scarlett stood back, admiring her creation. "There. You're the perfect Saffron."
Their eyes locked in the mirror.
Saffron turned to Scarlett, a playful smile on his now-feminine lips. "So, what do you think, Scarlett? Do you like your girlfriend?"
Scarlett stepped closer, her short, fiery hair brushing against Saffron's cheek. "I adore my girlfriend. And I can't wait show her my love."
Teenage Rebellion
As a young boy, Jeremy had always been fascinated by the way his mother styled her hair. She had long, flowing locks that she would straighten and curl to perfection, often spending hours in front of the mirror to get the perfect look. Jeremy always envied her hair and makeup and wished he could do the same, a feeling he made sure to keep bottled up.
But as he entered high school, Jeremy found himself increasingly drawn to embrace his desires. He began to experiment with different hairstyles and looks, much to the dismay of his mother. She preferred that he keep his hair short and neat, believing that it was more appropriate for a young man.
Despite her protests, Jeremy was determined to grow his hair out and try the styles he desired from childhood. He loved the way this his hair felt along his neck, and eventually draping over his shoulders.
One person who particularly appreciated Jeremy's long hair was his girlfriend, Emily who had encouraged him to grow it out. She loved playing with his hair when he would come over after school, often straightening it and tying it into a high ponytail before making out with him. She loved the time she spent straightening his hair, not only did it give them time to talk and catch up, but it also secretly turned her on.
The process of straightening Jeremy's hair was a time-consuming one, but Emily didn't mind. She usually started by wetting and detangling his hair, taking care to remove any knots or tangles. She then applied some heat protectant cream in his hair slowly brushing it through. Finally, after drying his hair, she divided it into small sections, using clips to keep each section separate.
Next, Emily took out her flat iron and straightened Jeremy's hair, starting at the root and working her way down to the ends. She took her time, making sure to straighten each section evenly and carefully.
As she worked, Emily would often chat with Jeremy about her day, or share stories and jokes to keep him entertained. Jeremy loved spending this time with her, and always looked forward to her styling sessions.
Once Emily had straightened all of Jeremy's hair, she would carefully brush through it to remove any remaining tangles or knots. She would then gather his hair into a high ponytail, securing it with a hair elastic.
Jeremy loved the way his hair looked after Emily had finished styling it. It was rare that any of his friends would see him like that but on the few occasions that they did, he got great feedback. He was grateful to have such a supportive and loving girlfriend, who unknowingly helped him fulfill his secret fantasies.
Despite his mother's initial reluctance, she started to appreciate his hair too. When he would come home in the evening, his hair looked cute styled in a sleek high ponytail.
One day, after doing his hair and making out with him, Emily suggested that Jeremy try wearing makeup to enhance his features. He showed a bit of hesitation, but on the inside, he was thrilled. Emily helped him choose the right shades and taught him how to apply the makeup, and he was amazed by the transformation.
That night he went home wearing the makeup and his mother remarked that he looked nice. Although she preferred her son to look like a man, she had come to realize that he was coming into his own and let him embrace his personality, hoping this would just be a phase.
But it wasn’t a phase, Jeremy continued to try on make-up and explored more feminine hairstyles, coming home some days with is hair in a French braid or tight ringlet curls. One day, after braiding his hair in twin pigtails, Emily added in a pink barrette and told him to try on a baby blue dress. He did as he was told and was in awe when he looked in the mirror. He looked like a teenage girl. Emily couldn’t control herself. She threw herself on top of him and started to make out with him. She took her clothes off and decided today would be the day she finally did it. After a monumental awakening for both of them, Emily and Jeremy cuddled on the bed.
Emily told Jeremy that she is bi and would prefer him to be his girlfriend. After that session, he wanted nothing more than to be with her. They decided that the name Jenna seemed more fitting. As Jenna walked back home still wearing the dress with her hair in braids, she decided that she would come out to her mother. Dinner that night was a difficult conversation as her mother realized this was not simply a teenage rebellion.
The Haircut
Tom had been growing his hair out to donate it. After 2 years of no trims, his hair was down to his chest. The day had finally come to get it cut.
As Tom walked into the salon, he could see the stylist was a little taken aback by the length of his hair. She’d never seen such long hair on a man.
"Hi I'm Ella! How can I help you?" She asked.
"Hi, I'm Tom. I want to donate my hair and was looking to get a haircut," he explained.
She walked him over to the back and he sat down in her chair. Ella wrapped a blue robe over him and began to brush his hair.
As she brushed his hair, she said, “This is just so beautiful! I’ve never seen such beautiful hair on a man before! I’ve never seen hair this long and thick!”
She kept on talking about the hair, and how beautiful it was, and how she’d never seen anything like it.
"Can I straighten your hair," she asked.
“It looks like it’s pretty curly, and it would look so beautiful straightened.”
Tom was silent. He was shocked, though. He had never had a woman, a stranger, ask to touch his hair before. But, he didn’t want to be rude. She was, after all, cutting his hair. He finally said yes.
Ella was so excited. She ran to get her straightening irons, and then returned to the chair. She began to run the irons through his hair, and within a few minutes, she had it straight as a board.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“I’ve never seen such beautiful hair on a man before. It’s so long, and it’s so thick. And it’s so straight now. It’s just beautiful!”
Tom had been a little shy about his hair. Now, he could feel himself getting a little excited. His heart was beating a little faster than normal.
Ella took her hands and ran them through his hair. She was silent for a few minutes, and then she said, “I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand why you would ever want to cut this beautiful hair.”
“I’m donating it to Locks of Love,” Tom replied.
“I’m donating it to help children who have lost their hair due to cancer and other illnesses.”
Ella was silent for a few moments, “I'm sorry, I just can’t believe you’d ever cut this beautiful hair,” she said. “I just don’t understand that.”
Tom explained to her that he had been growing it out for the past two years so he could donate it.
“Two years!” she exclaimed. “You’ve been growing this beautiful hair for two years? Why would you ever cut it?”
Tom explained that he had felt uncomfortable with how long it was.
"If dealing with the heat is the problem then I know how you can manage it," Ella said.
She grabbed a hair brush and combed his hair back into a high ponytail. She grabbed a pink hairband and secured the ponytail.
"See, you can wear it like this, and it won't be so uncomfortable. I'm sure you'll love the way it looks, too!" she said.
Tom was really surprised with how much cooler his neck felt.
"Have you ever braided your hair?" Ella asked.
Tom shock his head.
"Here I'll show you how to do it," Ella said as she grabbed the hair band and began to slowly pull his hair down.
She brushed it out and then gathered his hair at the nape. Ella explained how to cross each strand over as she braided his hair.
"See you can wear it up or down, whichever you like!"
Tom looked in the mirror and was amazed at how beautiful his hair looked. "You know this really looks nice," Tom said.
"It really is a shame that you want to cut it. You look really nice with long hair."
Just then Ella got an idea! "Do you want me to put some color in your hair?" She asked.
"Sure," Tom replied.
Ella began to mix the color. As she was mixing it, she asked, “Now, you’re going to want the color to be permanent, right?”
“Uhh, I guess,” Tom replied.
“Ok, it’s going to take a few minutes to get it mixed up and then it’ll take about an hour for it to set in. Why don’t you go grab a bite to eat? I’ll call
you when it’s ready.”
Tom went out to McDonalds with his hair still in a braid and got something to eat. As Tom was eating, he thought about how nice it would be to have his hair long for some more time. He thought about how great his hair looked in the mirror when Ella has straightened it. Oddly enough, he also liked the way it looked with the pink hairband, though he would never admit that.
Tom finished his meal and drove back to the salon. As he walked in, he saw Ella finishing up another women’s hair.
"Tom, I'm so glad you came back," she said. "You were just in time. The color is ready for you." Tom sat down in the chair and Ella began to put the color in his hair.
"Now this will be permanent," she explained. "So, if you don't like it or you change your mind, you'll have to go see a stylist and have them change it.
"Tom said that was ok, he wanted the color to be permanent. Ella continued putting it on until the whole head was colored, then she rinsed it out.
It took a while for all of the color to rinse out, but she kept on rinsing until all the color was gone.
"Now we'll put some conditioner on your hair so that it won't get too damaged.", she explained. She put some conditioner on his hair and then blow dried it for him.
When she was done blow drying his hair, she asked if he would like her to style it for him.
Tom hadn't been able to see what color she dyed his hair yet but he trusted her.
Ella grabbed her curling iron and went to work. With Tom's back against the mirror, he still had no idea what he looked like.
"Here you go," Ella said as she spun him around to the mirror.
Tom got a big shock when he saw himself. He had expected to see his light brown hair had turned black or a dark brown, but that was not the case.
"Ella, what did you do to my hair?" Tom asked.
"I dyed it," Ella replied.
Tom hung his mouth open in surprise. His hair was now light blonde, and she had curled it into neat ringlets! He looked like a girl!
"I just figured since you were going to have to cut your beautiful hair, you might as well have fun with it" Ella said.
Tom was quiet for a while before he said, “I like how it looks. I think I'll keep my hair long for a while."
Ella was surprised at first, but then she thought about it and said, “That's ok, if you want to keep it long then I guess that's ok.”
She grabbed a comb and began to run it through his hair to loosen the curls.
“You know what?” She said. “I think you’ll look even prettier with your hair done up.”
Tom just sat there, as she used endless pins to put his hair up into an undo.
By the time she was done, he looked his he could be a bride. He looked in the mirror and was amazed at how pretty he looked. Ella stood back
and admired her work.
“You look so beautiful!” she exclaimed.
“You look just like a little girl!”
“But I’m not a girl," Tom protested.
"You know you could make a really pretty girl," Ella argued.
"With that hair, and those pretty eyes, and that feminine figure, you could be a very pretty girl!”
Tom disagreed. "No way could I ever pass as a girl."
"Here let me know you what I mean," Ella said as she grabbed a tweezer and started to arch his eyebrows.
"What are you doing?" Tom asked.
"I'm just fixing your eyebrows to show you what I mean."
Next, she grabbed a bottle of nail polish and began to paint his nails.
"A girl needs pretty nails," she said.
Tom just sat there patiently while she did her thing.
"How do you feel?" Ella asked.
"I feel... fine," Tom replied. Then, she stood back and looked at Tom more closely.
“You know I think you’d look even prettier with some makeup on!”
Without waiting for an answer, Ella started pulling out her makeup kit. She grabbed some foundation and began to put it on his face.
“I’m just fixing you up a little bit. I’m going to make you even prettier than you are now!”
She put more foundation on, then some eye shadow, and then blush. She stood back and looked at him again.
“Now you have a nice feminine complexion. You could be a very pretty girl.”
She grabbed a bottle of mascara and began to put it on his eyelashes.
“Mascara really brings out the beauty in a girl’s eyes, especially yours!” she exclaimed.
Next, she grabbed a bottle of pink lip gloss and began to put it on his lips. “I just love the way lipstick makes a girl’s lips look so kissable!” she said as she stroked her finger against his lower lip. Tom felt a rush in his blood.
Then, she grabbed some hair spray and began to spray it on his hair.
“A girl needs her hair to look nice and soft, don't you think?” she said.
“Ok honey, I think you’re ready to go!”
Tom stared at himself in the mirror for a long time. He had no idea why, but he was actually starting to like the way he looked! Ella grabbed her camera and told him to pose for a picture so she could show him how pretty he looked.
“You know, with that hair, you could get a job as a model and be very successful.”
Tom began to feel a little nervous.
"What are you saying?" he asked. "That I should be a girl?”
“I’m just saying that you look like a very pretty girl,” she replied. “
I think that you could make some serious money if you wanted to."
“Maybe you’re right,” Tom said. “I could use some extra cash.” “
I thought so,” Ella said with a smile on her face. “I think you should try it.”
"I'm not how I would even do it," Tom said as he sat in the chair in front of Ella's mirror, staring at himself for the first time in hours.
"Most girls start off in modelling when they are in their teens," Ella replied as she began to play with his hair. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t try at your age."
"I don't know if I could do that," Tom said.
"Oh come on! It would be fun! You can be a model for a day!"
Tom sat there for a moment before he realized that she was kind of right. He did like the way he looked and enjoyed looking at himself in the mirror. He also did really like the idea of making some money, and a modelling gig might give him a chance to do that and get paid for it too.
"You know, you may have a point," he said.
"I do like how I look with all this makeup on. I do look like a girl, and I have fun looking at myself in the mirror. And the cash wouldn't hurt either."
Ella smiled at him. “See? You’ve got the right stuff!” she said as she sprayed more hair spray on his hair.
“You look like a real model!”
Tom felt excited and nervous at the same time. He really did like the way he looked, and he liked Ella's plan.
"I don't know if I could pull it off," he said as he began to fiddle with his hair. “I mean, I'm not that feminine or anything.”
"Oh, you'll be fine," Ella said as she too played with his hair.
“You just have to have a little confidence in yourself."
"I can show you how to act like a woman." She promised. "First things first, you need to change. I have a spare dress in the back that might just fit you. We'll also need to swap out those sneakers for high heels.
Tom agreed, and Ella led him into the back room where she handed him a little black dress.
"Wear this. It should fit you just fine."
Tom took the dress and looked at it. It was kind of sexy for a dress. The top was a little low cut though. "I'm not really comfortable wearing this," he said.
"Just wear it for now," Ella said. "I have something else for you to wear when you start modelling. Trust me; you'll be comfortable in it."
Tom trusted Ella, so he put on the dress. It fit him just fine, but it was extremely short!
"That looks good on you," Ella said. "I think you'll like the shoes too. They're a little big, but they'll fit."
She handed him some black high heels. He sat down and put them on. They were very high heels, and he had trouble walking in them.
"I thought this would be easy," he said.
"It is easy, you just need a bit of practice."
Tom wasn't so sure about that. He tried to walk in them, but he nearly fell over. Ella had to grab his arm to keep him from falling.
"I don't think I can walk in these," Tom said as he sat back down.
"Oh yes you can," Ella said. "It just takes a little practice. You'll get the hang of them soon enough."
She smiled at him as she sat down at the makeup table and looked at him in the mirror.
"I think you'll look very good as a woman," she said.
“Now, let’s get you ready for your shoot.”
Tom sat there as Ella began to apply makeup to his face. He watched her through the mirror as she worked on him, and he was fascinated by the process.
"I really do look like a woman," Tom said as he watched Ella work on his face.
"Oh yes you do," Ella replied. “You’ll be a very beautiful woman."
He felt very nervous about this, but he liked it too. It was an odd feeling, but he really did like it.
"I don't know if I can do this," Tom said as he looked at himself in the mirror.
"Oh yes you can," Ella replied with a smile.
“You’ll be great!”
"I don't know if I'm going to be able to walk in those shoes," he said as he looked down at his feet.
"You'll be fine," Ella replied as she looked at him in the mirror. “You’ll be fine!”
Tom looked into the mirror at himself again, and even though it was himself, he didn't recognize himself anymore. He looked like a girl, and he really did look pretty sexy too.
"You really do look like a model," Ella said as she stood up and looked at him. “You’re going to make some serious cash!”
Tom looked into the mirror, and then back at Ella, who was smiling at him in the mirror. He smiled back at her, and she smiled back at him before she began to play with his hair again.
...
Several hours had passed, and Tom was now on the other side of the camera. He was wearing a sexy black dress that was cut low in the front, and he was wearing high heels that were a little too big for him. He found himself having a lot of trouble walking in them, and he was struggling to keep his balance too.
He was also having a lot of trouble keeping his eyes open. He felt really tired, and he wanted to close his eyes for a moment.
“Are you sure I can do this?” he asked Ella as he looked at himself in the mirror.
"You'll be fine," Ella replied. “Don't worry about it. The shots will be fine."
“I don’t know,” Tom replied as he looked at himself in the mirror. “Maybe we should try some other day."
"Oh no," Ella said. "You'll be fine. You look great on camera."
Tom wasn't sure about that, but he did like the way he looked in the dress, and he did like the way Ella was playing with his hair. He actually enjoyed being her model for a change. It was kind of fun getting all dressed up like this, and he liked the way it felt to be a woman too.
"Why don't you come back again on Saturday and I can spend the day getting you dolled up and making a portfolio for you," Ella suggested.
“Sure,” Tom said as he headed over to the register.”
“Oh, don’t worry about today. I’m sure we can find some other way for you to pay me off,” Ella said with a wink.
Tom smiled and walked out the door. As he got into his car, he realized that he was still wearing a dress and had left his clothes in the salon. Ella had already locked the door. Tom looked at his reflection in the rear-view mirror and decided that he would just have to go home in this outfit.
As Tom unlocked his front door, he quickly flung off the heels. It was late at night and he was ready for bed. Tom washed his face for a few minutes until all of the makeup came off. He then started to remove the pins from his hair to take it down from the updo. After what felt like an eternity, he finally got all of them out. As Tom brushed out his curls, he stared in the mirror and started thinking about the day.
He gathered his hair to the side and gently braided it, following along to the instructions Ella had gave him earlier in the day.
As Tom went to bed, he couldn’t help but feel excited for what was to come on Saturday.
The Proposition
It was a humid summer night when the shadows crept across the skyscrapers of Manhattan, casting long, inky fingers over the city. Jonathan Reed, an unassuming bachelor, found himself at a dimly lit, exclusive bar called "The Velvet Parlor." It was the kind of place where the rich and the powerful gathered to relax, away from the prying eyes of the common man. Jonathan didn't belong here, but fate had a funny way of leading the lost.
He sat at the bar, nursing his scotch, wondering if he would ever find a place where he truly belonged. The soft clink of crystal glasses and hushed laughter from the elite class enveloped him, making him feel like an outsider in his own city. It was a Tuesday night, and his friends had bailed on their plans, leaving him alone in this opulent den of temptation.
As he watched the crowd, a woman caught his eye. She was a vision in silk and diamonds, the embodiment of the Upper East Side's affluence. Her blonde hair cascaded like a waterfall of spun gold, and her emerald-green eyes sparkled with the intrigue of a thousand secrets. The moment their eyes met, he felt an electric jolt, a spark of connection in a place he least expected it.
She glided toward him with a grace that made the entire bar pause, as if the world itself had shifted to give her space. Her red lips curled into a seductive smile, and Jonathan's heart raced as he watched her approach.
"Mind if I join you?" she purred, her voice a sultry caress.
Jonathan found himself speechless for a moment before stammering, "Of course, please, have a seat."
She slid onto the barstool next to him, her perfume wrapping around him like a soft, invisible shroud. Her designer dress hinted at assets that were worth more than his entire year's salary, and her presence exuded confidence and allure.
"You look like you've had a long day," she said, her green eyes flickering with amusement.
Jonathan nodded, feeling the exhaustion of the workweek weighing him down. "You could say that. You?"
Her laughter was like a melody, a sweet symphony in the midst of the city's cacophony. "Oh, darling, every day is an adventure. But let's not talk about me; I want to get to know you."
They exchanged small talk, sipped their drinks, and as the night wore on, Jonathan felt a connection he'd never experienced before. He found himself opening up to this enigmatic stranger, sharing his dreams and frustrations, and in return, she spoke of a world that seemed impossibly distant from his own.
Then, with a glance that made his heart skip a beat, she leaned in closer. "You know, Jonathan, I can't help but notice your charisma, your intelligence, and your passion. You have the makings of something extraordinary. Something... unexpected."
Jonathan was intrigued. "What do you mean?"
Her eyes bore into his, like emerald lasers of intrigue. "I have a proposition for you, one that could change your life in ways you've never imagined."
The air between them crackled with tension, and Jonathan was drawn into a whirlwind of possibilities. His ordinary life was about to take a turn into the extraordinary, but he had no idea just how profound the transformation would be.
Jonathan's curiosity was piqued, and he leaned in, his voice a low whisper. "What kind of proposition are we talking about?"
She smiled, her lips curving like the blade of a dagger. "My name is Victoria, Jonathan, and I'm an investment banker. My life is filled with power meetings, corporate luncheons, and social engagements that leave me with very little time for the domestic aspects of life. I need someone I can trust, someone extraordinary to take care of my home and all that it entails."
Jonathan's brow furrowed in puzzlement. "I'm not quite sure I follow, Victoria. You need a housekeeper?"
She shook her head, her eyes dancing with mischief. "No, Jonathan. I need a partner, someone to manage my home, host our social events, and make sure everything runs smoothly. In essence, I need a housewife, but not just any housewife. I need someone who can match my intellect and charm, who can hold their own in the world of Manhattan's elite. You have that potential, Jonathan."
He was taken aback, trying to process this unexpected offer. "You want me to be your...housewife?"
She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. "Think of it as a partnership, a shared endeavor. You'll have access to a world you've only dreamed of, and I'll provide you with everything you need to thrive in it. In return, you'll handle the domestic side of our lives and ensure that my home is impeccable. And," she added with a playful glint in her eye, "you'll be the most captivating host at our soirées."
Jonathan's mind raced as he considered the proposition. The allure of a life he'd never known, mingling with the elite, seemed like an intoxicating dream.
Victoria leaned even closer, her lips mere inches from his ear. "You're an enigma, Jonathan. A diamond in the rough. I see the potential in you, and I promise you'll never want for anything. What do you say?"
Their eyes locked, and the intensity of the moment was undeniable. Jonathan found himself drawn to the dangerous allure of this woman, her seductive proposition, and the promise of a life he had only glimpsed in his wildest fantasies.
He couldn't resist. "I'm in."
Victoria's eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she clinked her glass against his. "Welcome to my world, Jonathan. You won't regret it."
As Jonathan entered this uncharted territory, the transformation from a regular bachelor into Victoria's housewife began. The changes were swift and profound, reshaping him both inside and out.
Jonathan found himself immersed in a world of luxury he had only dreamt of. Victoria's Park Avenue penthouse was a palace of opulence, adorned with art that could fund a small country and furnished with the finest materials money could buy. He spent days studying etiquette and fashion, learning how to converse with diplomats, corporate tycoons, and power players from around the world. His transformation wasn't just about becoming a housewife; it was about becoming a work of art, a masterpiece of culture and sophistication.
Victoria, the mistress of this glamorous world, guided him through every step. She was his mentor, his lover, and his muse all rolled into one. Their days were filled with lessons in high society, fashion, and the intricacies of the city's social scene. He was transformed into the perfect host, his charm and charisma polished to a mirror-like shine.
"You're a quick learner, Jonathan," Victoria purred, as she adjusted his tie in the mirror. "But remember, it's not just about the clothes or the conversation. It's about confidence, presence, and an air of mystery that keeps them coming back for more."
Jonathan couldn't help but smile. "I couldn't have asked for a better teacher, Victoria."
Her emerald eyes sparkled with approval. "And you, my dear, are shaping up to be a remarkable housewife. You've exceeded my expectations."
But it wasn't just the external transformation that was taking place. Jonathan was adapting to the intricacies of Victoria's life. He managed the staff with a firm but fair hand, organized extravagant soirées, and made sure the penthouse was an impeccable showcase of their wealth and status.
Yet, the most significant transformation was their relationship. What had begun as a business arrangement had evolved into something more profound. Their flirty dialogue, once casual and lighthearted, had taken on an undercurrent of passion and intensity.
One evening, as they stood on the balcony overlooking the twinkling city lights, Victoria's fingers brushed against Jonathan's. "You know, you've become an indispensable part of my life, Jonathan."
He turned to her, his heart racing. "And you've become the most important part of mine."
Their lips met in a tender but fervent kiss. What had started as an unconventional partnership had developed into a deep connection.
But, as with all things in their world, there were secrets and mysteries that lurked in the shadows. Jonathan's transformation was far from complete, and he was about to learn that the world of the Manhattan elite was more treacherous and unforgiving than he could ever have imagined.
As Jonathan's transformation continued, Victoria decided it was time for a significant change. She whisked him away one sunny afternoon to a prestigious Upper East Side salon known only to the most discerning of clients. The moment he stepped inside, the air was fragrant with the scent of exotic oils and the sound of hushed conversations.
Victoria had prepared for this outing meticulously, and it was clear she had a vision in mind. She greeted the salon's owner, a distinguished stylist with an impeccable reputation, as an old friend. The salon, decorated with ornate mirrors and crystal chandeliers, seemed like a realm of enchantment, the kind of place where one's dreams could come true.
The stylist took one look at Jonathan and nodded in agreement with Victoria's plan. "We can give him the look you're envisioning, Victoria. Shoulder-length waves?"
Victoria's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she spoke, "Exactly. I want him to be a vision of timeless beauty."
The process was a transformation within a transformation. As Jonathan sat in the plush salon chair, the stylist worked meticulously, adding hair extensions that cascaded in elegant waves to his shoulders. He watched himself in the mirror as his appearance shifted dramatically.
As the stylist worked, Victoria sat nearby, offering guidance and playful encouragement. "You have the most beautiful hair, Jonathan. These waves will make you even more irresistible."
Jonathan couldn't help but smile at her compliment.
The process was mesmerizing, and as the final touches were made, Jonathan couldn't believe his reflection in the mirror. He was no longer the same man who had walked into that salon. His new appearance was a fusion of classic elegance and feminine grace. The shoulder-length waves framed his face in a way that softened his features, and he looked both distinguished and ethereal.
Victoria's eyes gleamed with approval as she took in the finished product. "You're a work of art, Jonathan. My masterpiece."
Jonathan's gaze met hers in the mirror.
She leaned in, her lips brushing his earlobe. "Your transformation is far from complete, darling. There's so much more for you to discover."
As they left the salon, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of confidence and empowerment. He was ready to embrace this new identity and continue his transformation, wherever it might lead him.
Jonathan's transformation was taking a path he could never have anticipated, and the journey into his new identity continued as Victoria led him from the opulent salon to an exclusive boutique. The boutique was a haven of sophistication, a temple of fashion, where every garment was a work of art.
Victoria had a vision in mind, and she guided Jonathan through the maze of designer dresses, heels, and accessories. Her taste was impeccable, and she chose pieces that would complement his new appearance perfectly.
As Jonathan stood in the dressing room, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and vulnerability. Victoria handed him an exquisite black dress that was both classic and modern, its cut emphasizing his newfound elegance. The material felt like a caress against his skin as he slipped it on, and it clung to his form in all the right places.
Victoria watched his transformation with a smile, her eyes alight with approval. "You look stunning in that dress, Jonathan. It accentuates your beauty in the most tantalizing way."
He turned to face her in the mirror, feeling a rush of empowerment as he looked at his reflection. The dress, combined with his new hair and the aura of sophistication he'd been cultivating, had created an image that was both intriguing and captivating.
"You have an eye for fashion," he said, turning to face her.
Victoria stepped closer, her fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his dress. "It suits you, darling."
As he stepped into a pair of high-heeled shoes that elongated his legs and added to his height, Jonathan couldn't help but feel like he was stepping into a new world. The heels clicked against the boutique's polished floors, and he was suddenly taller, more graceful.
Victoria's voice was a sultry whisper as she said, "You are exquisite, Jonathan. You're my muse, my partner, my housewife. And together, we'll take this city by storm."
Their eyes met in the mirror, and the chemistry between them was undeniable.
Jonathan couldn't help but playfully tease, "I have to say, Victoria, you make a convincing stylist."
She grinned, her emerald eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, I have a vision for you, and I intend to see it through to perfection. This is just the beginning of our transformation."
It wasn't just about appearances anymore; it was about becoming a character in her own carefully scripted play. And Victoria had a new role in mind.
One evening, after a lavish dinner in their opulent penthouse, Victoria led Jonathan to the master suite, where a new transformation awaited. The room was adorned with black lace and plush velvet, a boudoir of desire. The air was heavy with the scent of jasmine and the soft glow of candlelight.
Victoria handed him a costume: a black satin maid's uniform with white lace detailing, and a pair of white thigh-high stockings. She looked at him with playful determination, her eyes sparkling. "Tonight, Jonathan, we're going to explore a different side of your transformation. The housewife must play the part of the seductive servant."
He couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension as he slipped into the uniform. The silk fabric clung to his form, accentuating his curves, while the stockings added an air of sensuality. It was a character he'd never played before.
Victoria stood back, her lips curling into a flirtatious smile. "You look exquisite, my seductive servant."
Jonathan gave a playful curtsy, his eyes dancing with intrigue. "I aim to please, madam."
Their flirty dialogue set the stage for a night of playful exploration. Victoria guided him through the penthouse, giving him specific tasks that ranged from serving drinks to dusting furniture. With her emerald eyes locked on him, she couldn't help but tease, "A housewife must be both attentive and alluring. Seduce me with your service."
As he moved about the room, he couldn't help but feel the intensity of the moment. He was no longer the man he once was, but a character in this intricate game. The role of the seductive servant allowed him to explore aspects of himself he had never dared to uncover, and he reveled in the sensuality of the experience.
When the tasks were complete, they found themselves in the bedroom, the air thick with desire and longing. Victoria's voice was a sultry whisper as she said, "You play the part of the maid well, Jonathan. But there's one more detail we can't forget."
She picked up a pair of satin ribbons and moved behind him, tying his hair into two playful pigtails. The transformation was complete, and he looked at his reflection, a vision of seduction and sensuality.
Victoria's lips brushed against his ear as she whispered, "You are an enchantress, Jonathan. A housewife who can be whatever we desire."
Their connection deepened that night, as Jonathan's boundaries were redefined.
One day, as he returned from a shopping trip, he discovered that Victoria had taken a bold step in his transformation. Every trace of his old wardrobe, the remnants of the man he once was, had been replaced by an array of dresses, high heels, and accessories. It was as if she had erased his past and left only the canvas of his future.
Victoria, with a sly grin, watched his reaction as he took in the array of clothing. "I thought it was time for a wardrobe upgrade, Jonathan. After all, a housewife's closet should reflect her new life."
Jonathan was speechless for a moment. "I can't believe this."
Her emerald eyes danced with a gleam. " I intend to see my masterpiece through to perfection."
Over the next few days, he found himself exploring his new wardrobe. Victoria had chosen garments that accentuated his beauty and sophistication. The dresses flowed elegantly, highlighting his curves and grace. He practiced walking in heels, mastering the art of poise and allure.
And then came the day when Victoria gave him an instruction that would further blur the lines of their roles. "Jonathan," she purred, "I want you to be ready to greet me when I come home tonight. Full makeup, dressed in one of your new outfits. The housewife must always be a vision of beauty."
Jonathan accepted the challenge with a playful enthusiasm. As evening approached, he stood before the mirror, carefully applying makeup that accentuated his features. His eyes were adorned with smoky eyeshadow, his lips painted a rich shade of crimson, and his cheekbones defined with a touch of blush.
He chose a dress that flowed gracefully, with intricate lace details that adorned his figure. As he slipped into his heels, he looked in the mirror. The reflection in the mirror was no longer the man he had once been but a vision of timeless allure.
Victoria returned home, her eyes widening with delight as she took in Jonathan's transformation. "You look stunning, my love."
He curtsied with grace, and the flirty dialogue that had become their trademark flowed effortlessly. "I aim to please, my love."
That night, Victoria introduced another layer to their intriguing play. They stood in the lavish penthouse, where the soft glow of candles and the scent of exotic oils created an ambiance of intimacy and mystery. Victoria looked at him with a glint of determination in her emerald eyes.
"Tonight, you will fully embrace your new identity, Jonathan," she said, her voice laced with sensuality. "From now on, you are Catherine, my wife. And I am yours."
His heart raced as he took in her words. The transformation had taken him from a bachelor to the role of a wife.
With a smile, she extended her hand, and he took it in his own. Their fingers interlaced, and they stood before each other, their eyes locked in a shared understanding. "I am yours, Victoria," he replied, his voice filled with devotion.
With that declaration, he stepped into his new role as Catherine, and together, they became a dynamic duo.
Joseph Eduardo Vincent was your average fifteen-year-old boy. He loved being outdoors and running around. Like most boys on his soccer team, Joe had longer hair. His blonde locks now reached just passed his shoulders, although you wouldn’t be able to tell with the amount of dirt and grease built up. He kept up in a bun like most of the boys on the team to prevent it from getting in his eyes. Besides having a manbun was all the rage nowadays with the elite players having one. Fortunately for Joe, his parents were completely indifferent to his long hair. They saw it as a trendy hairstyle that all of the boys had these days. They did take notice of his lack of haircare though. Joe’s mother would often tell him that he needed to take better care of his hair and at least get the ends trimmed up a bit. Joe would resist, having no interest in his maintaining his hair.
That all changed one day during an out of town tournament. Joe had travelled with the team to a far-away city called Hillsview. This city was about 3 hours away from his smaller town and had a totally different culture. The arts scene in Hillsview was quite vibrant and Joe noted seeing many younger men around this town with more flamboyant dress wear. When the team checked into the hotel, they noticed that a girl’s swim team had also checked in for a competition they were attending. The boys made a pact and tried to woo as many girls as they could. As was the case for most high school sophomores, they wanted to get laid. The team had managed to do some extra fundraising and Joe was fortunate enough to only be sharing a room with one other boy, Michael. Michael was a little taller than Joe and a little tanner too. He had dark brown hair that extended down to his nipple in uneven, choppy layers. Michael often wore his hair in a messy bun that one could only describe as a little sloppy.
On the first night of their 3-day stay, Joe and Michael ran into a group of girls from the swim team. They quickly charmed them with their humour earning them an invite to the hotel pool that evening. When Joe and Michael went down to the pool, they noticed that two girls were practicing their laps. “Come join us,” said Sophie, the tall blonde one. Her hair was tied into pigtails braids that draped over her shoulders and genteelly caressed her breasts. “Don’t mind if I do,” exclaimed Joe as he cannonballed in. Michael soon followed suit. The four decided to play a round of volleyball in a rather shallow pool. Michael and Ella, a shorter girl with long, dark hair secured in a French braid, were on one team. Joe and Sophie were on the other.
The youngsters had a great time splashing around for an hour or so. Joe and Michael were just excited to see the girls in their bikinis. The girls had a competition the next day and wanted to make sure their speedos didn’t get damaged so they opted to wear their floral bikinis instead. Joe and Michael preferred this outfit as it flaunted their cleavage even more. Sophie and Ella were juniors at their school and being slightly older than most of the girls Joe and Michael interacted made their bodies look like a goddess.
As they were getting out of the pool Ella commented on the boys’ knotted up hair and invited them up to their room to help them clean up. Joe and Michael gladly accepted the invitation as they figured it was their chance to finally sleep with the girls. Once in their room, Sophie ordered Joe and Michael to go into the shower and wash their hair.
“Wait you mean together... like at the same time,” asked Michael.
”Oh come on you sissies it’s not that big a deal, you’re already wearing swim trunks. Here take this shampoo and conditioner and go wash out the chlorine,” replied Sophie.
The boys quickly obey the orders and hope into the shower. Heeding Ella’s advice on how to wash hair properly, they decide to take turns and help each other out. Joe is the first to wash his hair. Michael positions himself behind him and pulls out his hair tie. Joe’s knotted bun comes undone and his hair cascades down his shoulders. His hair appears even longer now that it is wet. Michael grabs the shampoo and lathers it through Joe’s hair before pushing his head forward into the flow of the water to wash it out. Next comes the conditioner. He once again squirts out the gel into his hands and then works it through Joe’s hair, starting at the roots and working his way down to the tips extending past his shoulders. His wet blonde hair glistens in the light. Michaels leans Joe's head forward and washes out the remaining condition.
“Now do me,” he commands.
They switch positions and Joe takes on the task of helping Michael wash out his hair. After the shower, both of them dry off and wrap a towel around their wet swim trunks. Joe steps out of the bathroom and they take turns changing into the spare bathrobes the girls have provided for them. Once out, the girls welcome the guys onto their beds. Michael with Ella on her bed while Joe sits with Sophie on her bed.
“Aren’t you guys going to wash your hair too,” asks Joe.
“No, we’re in the pool so often that we’ve figured out how to keep our hair from going in. Too much pool water isn’t good for your hair,” explains Sophie.
“Besides you guys could clearly learn a thing or two about how to maintain your hair,” chimes in Ella.
The girls explain how keeping hair tied in a bun when getting it wet just makes a mess. “It’s a better idea to braid it. Braids stop the hair from going in your face and keep it tangle-free in the sweat. Plus, they’re way better for your scalp,” continues Ella.
“You boys should try them while playing soccer some time. Besides manbuns are starting to get boring, especially the greasy ones.”
The girls grab their hairbrushes and slowly start brushing out the guys’ hair. Just as the boys’ start dozing off to the soothing feeling of the girls caressing their luscious locks, Sophie chimes in with an idea.
“How about we give you guys a hair makeover. You desperately need one. Joe and I will go over to Joe’s room and Ella and Michael can stay here.” The guys instantly agree to this offer desperate for some one-on-one time with the girls. Sophie grabs a bag of her stuff and leaves with Joe, leaving Ella and Michael behind.
Ella tells Michael to sit down on the chair as she gathers some supplies. She comes up behind Michael and starts blow drying his long hair. Next, she grabs the straightener and starts working it over the hair. Michaels chocolate brown locks stretch out a couple of inches past his nipples now that they are pin-straight. “You know what you need? A trim. These layers just aren’t working.” Before Michael has time to comment, Ella grabs her scissors and starts even out his hair. She tells Michael to close his eyes and relax. “Half of a hair makeover is all about relaxing.”
Michael doesn’t realize he’s dozed off until Ella wakes him up. He’s surprised to see that his hair is now cut into a blunt cut up to his armpits. His face looks a little different too.
“Wow this looks different, a little feminine,” he remarks.
“You look so much sexier now! Besides, it is 2020, taking care of yourself is just as masculine now as it is feminine”, Ella replies.
Ella sits down in front of him with her back turned against him. “Here you need to learn how to take care of your hair. Trying straightening mine, it’s easier to practice on someone else.” Michael takes out her braids and starting straightening her hair. He feels a bulge start to rise as he touches her hair. Eventually, he finishes straightening her hair, good timing too, he can barely keep it in his pants. Ella comes up behind him and looks in the mirror.
“Yay! We’re hair twins,” she exclaims. Michael can’t help but realize how much their hair looks alike, it’s even the same color!
“Here let me show you how to make a ponytail.”
Ella gets on her knees in front of Michael and hands him a hair tie. “Take this and gather my hair up into a high ponytail.” As Michael works his hands through her hair and starts tying it up, she unties his bathrobe. Ella places her soft lips on his throbbing cock just as he finishes up tying his hair. Michael grabs the ponytail and steers Ella’s head. Just as she feels he is about to cum, Ella stops.
“Not yet, you still have more to learn. “Ponytails are good for taking control but you know what is better, pigtails.”
Ella takes off her bathrobe and walks over to grab something from her suitcase. Michael can barely contain his excitement. Ella returns with a strap-on much to Michael's confusion. She tells him to turn around and he complies, how can he say no to such a beautiful girl. Ella pushes it in and starts brushing his hair. She gathers it into two bunches high up on the head and secures them in place. Ella rubs her hands through his long silky pigtails while repeatedly pegging him. Michael is surprised by how much he likes it, maybe because it’s his first time with a girl. He gets a little too wound up it the excitement and ends up coming all over the bed.
“I’m so sorry,” he panickily shouts.
“It’s okay, some boys like butt stuff, guess you’re one of them,” she chuckles. “Here let me show you how I do my hair to sleep.”
She takes his hair and starts pinning the sides across each other. “This will keep your hair straight and make sure it doesn’t tangle. It’s called a French twist,” she says. The only French thing Michael knew was a French kiss. Just as he is about to get settled into bed, there is a knock on the door. Sophie and Joe are back.
“Welp time to go to bed, we have to wake up early tomorrow,” Sophie exclaims as she comes into the room and pushes Michael out.
As Michael and Joe stand in the hallway in their bathrobes staring at each other, Michael knows Joe has had a similar experience because his golden blonde locks are now cut into a long bob and tied into a 90s era side ponytail. The two walk back to their room and fall asleep, knowing they’re still here for another 2 days.
The next morning Joe and Michael wake up and get ready for the game. The coach has requested that they all meet for breakfast at 9 am in the lobby. From there the team will head out for the day. The boys decide not to take showers as they already took one the night before. Instead, they brush their teeth and throw on their tight running shorts. Joe takes his hair down from the side ponytail which now looks sloppy after sleeping with it. He ties his hair into a high bun that looks much neater than it ever had before. The long bob that Sophie cut his hair into is just long enough to tie up. Michael gets dressed and struggles with his hair.
“What did you do to your hair last night,” asks Joe.
“Ella put it in a French twist with pins and now I can’t get it out. Can you help?”
Joe helps pull out the pins from Michael’s hair. As the last pin comes out his straight locks fall down. “Oh wow, your hair looks really nice. Looks like she cut it quite a bit. I’ve never seen hair that shiny before,” admires Joe. Michael laughed while he grabbed a hair tie and tied his hair into a sleek high ponytail. “You’re going to leave your hair like that for the game. What will the other guys say,” asks Joe. “It’s fine. Beckham wears his hair in a ponytail sometimes too. It’s kinda cool,” Michael fights back. The two grab their gym bag and head downstairs to the lobby. In the elevator, they run into some other girls of the swim team that they haven’t met yet. “Nice ponytail, you look like a Kardashian!” one of the girls' remarks. “See she likes it,” Michael nudges to Joe as they step off the elevator.
Both boys received a few remarks throughout the day about how much nicer their hair looked, particularly Michael with his high ponytail. By the time they came back in the evening, their hair was looking greasy again from the sweat of playing all day. Michael and Joe come back to their room and put their bags down. “My hair looks just like it did when we arrived yesterday, only a bit shorter,” says Michael. “Why don’t you braid it, it’ll look nicer,” replies Joe. “I don’t know how to braid hair, I’ve never done it before.” Joe walks over to Michael and pulls his hair out of the ponytail. Joe feels a rush in his pants but he just can’t help it, Michaels hair is so smooth and so pretty. “Don’t worry I can braid it for you. After Sophie and I came back to our room last night she showed me how to braid hair. I can give you a French braid if you want,” says Joe. “Sure, that would be great,” allows Michael. Joe grabs a hairbrush and instructs Michael to sit on the bed. He starts gently brushing his hair and parting it in the middle. Joe takes the right side and starts neatly braiding it into a tight braid. He then does the same with the left side. Now, that it is braided, Michael’s hair only comes down to his shoulders, just like Sophie’s. Michael looks in the mirror and says “why did you give me pigtails, it looks girly.” “I just did it the same way I did Sophie’s hair last night. Do you not like it?” replies Joe. “No, I do. It looks nice. Plus, pigtails give better control,” says Michael. Joe gives him a sly smile. “Sounds like you had fun last night,” chuckles Joe. “I sure did, hopefully we get lucky again tonight!” exclaims Michael.
All of a sudden, there is a knock on the door. Joe opens the door and sees Sophie and Ella standing there. He invites them in and makes room for them on the bed. “How was the competition,” asks Joe. “Great we advanced to the semi-finals tomorrow. I can see you guys played hard today too,” replies Sophie looking at the mess on Joe’s head. “Oh yeah it was hot out and we sweated a lot. My hair got a little messy again,” says Joe. “Your braids look so cute,” says Ella. “Thanks, Joe just did it for me,” replies Michael. “Looks like you learned a few things from last night! Are you ready to learn some more?” asks Sophie. “Sure, I was just going to hop in the shower and clean up first, unless you want to join me,” smirks Joe.
Sophie grabs his hand and walks into the bathroom with him. They strip down and hop in the shower. Sophie pulls out Joe’s hair tie and lets his hair down. It bounces back into the long bob she gave him last night. Joe undoes Sophie’s ponytail and notices that her hair is the same length and color as his. Sophie knows what Joe is thinking and grabs the shampoo bottle. She turns Joe backward and starts shampooing his hair. Joe feels a tingling feeling down under. He waits for Sophie to wash out the shampoo before turning around and kissing her. The two make out under the shower for a few minutes. Sophie is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.
Before he can make a move to pin her against the wall, she turns him back around and starts conditioning his hair. Sophie rubs her smooth body against Joe while he anxiously waits to turn back around. After she washes out his hair, he picks her up and pins her against the shower wall. They continue making out for a few minutes. Just as Joe is about to slip it in, Sophie stops.
“You know what would make you look even sexier? If you had a bare body. Smooth, frictionless bodies are sexy,” says Sophie.
“I’ll do whatever you want baby,” replies Joe.
Sophie grabs the razor from the counter and starts shaving his chest. She works around in the steamy shower until he is completely hair-free, except for his eyebrows and luscious mane. Sophie pushes her breasts against Joe and continues making out for a few minutes before she steps out of the shower.
“Get dressed, the night is young and we’re going out,” she orders Joe.
Meanwhile back out in the room, Ella had been tempting Michael. She figured Sophie and Joe were going to take some time in the shower and decided to spend some time alone with Michael. “Your eyebrows are a little thick, don’t you think,” asks Ella. Before Michael has time to reply, she grabs tweezers and sits in his lap, wrapping her legs around him. She starts shaping his eyebrows into a high arch. Michael feels a bit of pain but is distracted by her breasts pushing against his chest. He feels a bulge down there and is pretty sure that Ella can feel it too. after Ella finishes up with his eyebrows she slides her hands into his shorts and starts giving him a handjob. “Someone gets excited easily, don’t they,” she says. “Wait until tonight and you’ll get a special treat, maybe I’ll even let you inside me,” she continues.
She grabs Michael’s pigtails and starts making out with him. “Until then, can you do my hair?” she asks. Michael grabs a brush and starts to work through her hair. It is still straight from the night before. Ella tells him to grab the sock sitting on the dresser and roll it up horizontally. She works him through the steps of making the perfect ballet bun. Once complete, Michael sits back and admires his work. He had tied his own hair in a bun plenty of times but it never looked this sleek and perfected. Ella stands up and pulls Michael closer by the lips. “Next time you tie your hair up into a bun, you’ll know how to make it look nice,” she says.
As if right on cue, Sophie comes out of the bathroom wearing a sundress. Joe follows behind wearing slim-fit jeans and a casual sweater. His hair is straight and dry, tied back into a half ponytail, just like Sophie’s. One could easily mistake them for twins if it weren’t for his outfit.
“Ready to go out?” asks Sophie.
The two couples head out into the big city to explore what it has to offer. Their first stop is at a hotdog stand to grab a bite. All of them had a pretty exhausting day and could use some food. While eating the hotdogs, Ella comments on Michael’s unkept nail.
“Those are absolutely repulsive, I can see dirt under them. We need to do something about that.”
Sophie agrees and the two girls eventually convince the guys to join them for manicures. They know the boys are entranced with their beauty and will do anything for them. Just as they are about to leave, Joe spills some ketchup on his sweater.
“Oh no! Let’s go find you something else to wear,” exclaims Sophie.
They walk into a nearby boutique, it seems a little niche and catered to the artistic people of the city but it’s the closest place. Joe quickly starts looks at more sweaters but Sophie stops him. “These sweaters are so baggy and unflattering. Here try on this romper, it looks most stylish and should fit you better.” Joe reluctantly tries it on. “This looks nice but why is it bright yellow,” he says as he walks out of the dressing room. “It’s all they had,” Sophie explains. Joe buys the romper and the group walks back out.
As they are walking down the street looking for a nail salon, Ella asks Michael “I couldn’t help but notice you were looking at some panties in the boutique. Did you want to try one on? I think it would make your butt look cute.” Michael blushes and shuts down any idea of him wanting one. “Don’t worry I have some back at the hotel, you can try it on tonight,” Sophie reassures. Michael feels turned on and confused at the same time. At least it means he will be getting some action again tonight.
They circle around the block twice but can’t find a nail salon. The only place they can see is a bridal studio. “No way I am going in there,” states Joe, but Sophie drags him in. The four youngsters sit down and start getting their nails filled. Neither one of them wants to put flashy nail polish on. The guys would stick out like thumbtacks on their soccer team and the girls worried it would all come off the next day anyway. They opt for a hardening clear coat instead. “You girls look so pretty,” says a woman who appears to be a manager. No one bothers to correct her. Michael looks at Joe and figures they do look pretty feminine right now. With his hair tied in pigtail French braids and Joe’s in a fluffy half ponytail, they looked like teenage girls. It didn’t help that Michael had perfectly arched eyebrows and Joe was wearing a romper. “How would you girls like a bridal makeover?” the lady continued. What could they say? The boys couldn’t say no, that would immediately out them as males and raise more uncomfortable questions. Besides before they even get a chance to say anything, the girls shriek excitedly. The team starts with makeup first.
Ella and Michael have similar hair and skin tone so the boutique decides to give them a similar style. Each of them has dark blue eyeshadow put on and their faces contoured with a dark maroon powder. Joe and Sophie receive pink eyeshadow and rose contouring. All of the ‘girls’ get neutral pink lipstick. The stylist then asks if everyone has experience cutting hair. Sophie and Ella did so they tell them they knew how to trim ends but Michael and Joe have no clue.
The stylists instruct Ella and Sophie to sit down and then tell Michael and Joe to stand behind them. They briefly explain the principle of cutting hair and tell them to give it a try. Michael lets down Ella’s hair from the bun he had put it in a little while earlier and brushes it out. Joe does the same with Sophie’s half ponytail. The stylists come up behind Michael and shows him how to cut a straight edge. He trims up Ella’s long hair and evens out the bottom. Only after cutting it does he realize her hair is now about half an inch shorter than his. The stylist compliments Michael for his amazing job and calls him a natural hairstylist. He then moves over to Joe and begins instructing him.
Joe gives Sophie a bob similar to his own, being mindful to keep it long enough to style. The stylist decides that this would be the perfect opportunity to teach the group how to style fancy updos. Joe is shown how to hold a curling iron and curl hair. He practices a little on his own but then starts doing Sophie’s hair. After he is done filling it with spiral curls, he puts it up into a high ponytail. Michael is shown how to take Sophie’s hair and style it into a tucked chignon. He gently smooths over her hair and adds hairspray as a finishing touch.
It is now the girls' turn to do the boys' hair. They decide to show off their skills and go overboard with very feminine hairstyles. Sophie takes Joe’s hair and teases the front to give it height. She then takes the back of it and throws it into a ponytail. With the help of many pins and what must be a can of hairspray, she twists the ends into a beautiful updo. Ella decides to go one step further of Michael’s hair. She first gives him a slight ombre. With his hair down, it is quite obvious that the ends are now caramel. She takes the front and twists it like a rope before pinning it back. The result is an elegant and sophisticated hairstyle.
Just as Michael and Joe start to worry they may be put into bridal gowns, the girls finish paying up and start to head out. It turns out that the dresses cost too much money to simply hand out for free. “I just can’t get over what a good job you did on my hair Michael,” exclaims Ella as they walk back towards to hotel. “Well you know, you erm, did a nice job too with mine,” he replies. Joe can’t help but be mesmerized by Sophie’s hair as he ponytail bounces with her step. “Stunning,” he says. “You really are,” she replies.
Back at the hotel the couples split up and head to separate rooms. Sophie pushes Joe against the door as he tries to work the key card. As soon as the get in, she pushes him onto the bed. “Oh, Joe you have no idea how gorgeous you look with that hair and makeup.” He starts making out with her and taking her dress off. Sophie takes off Joe’s romper and begins to undo his belt. With the couple finally naked on top of each other Sophie basks in Joe’s beauty. He is hairless and has beautiful rosy makeup. It isn’t too much by any means but it highlights his natural beauty. His long blonde hair that looked like a messy heap just 24 hours ago is now piled in beautiful curls on top of his head. They have the wildest night with Joe trying every imaginable position. Eventually, Sophie passes out on top of Joe.
The next morning, they wake up early to the sound of an alarm. It is competition day for both of them. Sophie quickly gets dressed and rushes back to her room. By the time Michael comes back, Joe is already changed and ready to go. Most of the makeup washed off quite easily but some of his contour is still highlighting his face. He just can’t figure out what to do with his hair. “I don’t have time to wash my hair but I also can’t leave it in this curly updo,” complains Joe. Michael suggests he just take out the pins and comb out whatever he can and throw it up into a bun. As Joe brushes out the crunch of the hairspray, Michael gets dressed and comes to the same dilemma of his own. “How am I supposed to hide my hair color! I left my hair in a ponytail yesterday and everyone commented on how good it looked, I can’t just put it back up in a bun today!” Realizing he has no other choice, Michael grabs a sock and twists his hair into a perfect ballet bun, being careful to make sure the ombre can’t be seen. Joe can manage to get his hair down but the curls just won’t come out. He twists it up into a messy bun that hides most of the curls and pins the bun in place to make sure it doesn’t come undone during the game. As Michael bends down to tie his shoes, his pants come down a little. Joe notices the pink panties he is wearing. “Looks like you had a fun time last night,” Joe exclaims as he slaps Michael on the butt. Michael blushes and they both scurry downstairs.
The boys come back to the hotel in the evening victorious in their league. Michael and Joe excuse themselves from the celebrations so they can hang out with Ella and Sophie again. They come up to their rooms to get comfortable and unwind before they meet up with the girls for one last night. When they open the door to their room, they see a note that was slid from under the door. “Sorry we can’t hang out today, our team lost and the coach decided to go back one day early. It was nice knowing you. P.S. you guys have beautiful hair that would make any girl jealous. Sincerely, Ella and Sophie.” Joe and Michael sit in disbelief, their dream girls are gone.
Joe undoes his messy bun and a rush of curls come down. The curls only accentuate his long bob haircut and make him look more feminine than ever before. “Well they got one thing right, your hair is gorgeous enough to make any girl jealous. Hell, it’s prettier than any girl who I’ve ever been with,” remarks Michael as he takes his own hair out of a bun. “Thanks Michael. To be honest, your chocolate brown hair blends perfectly into the caramel ombre like a tiramisu, I just want to eat it up. Say, did you do something to your eyebrows,” replies Joe. “Yeah, Ella shaped them up for me a little bit. They look okay right?” asks Michael. “Okay? They look great! Would you be able to do mine too, they look a little unkempt,” ponders Joe.
Michael grabs the complementary tweezers from the bathroom and walks up to Joe. He sits on his lap and wraps his leg around him the same way that Ella did so he can get close enough to do his eyebrows. “Ow,” screams Joe. “Sorry Joe, try to think about something else, it helps distract from the pain,” replies Michael. But Joe was thinking about something else. Once Michael is done carving Joe’s eyebrows, Joe suggests they shampoo each other’s hair again because his is still filled with hairspray.
They quickly strip off their clothes and head into the bathroom. “You look like a girl from the back wearing nothing but pink panties,” comments Joe. Michael had forgotten all about the panties he still had on. Ella had convinced him to try on her dress last night and it just didn’t look right without the right underwear. “Don’t worry you look hot! Now strip those off and get in the shower, I’ll wash your hair first,” orders Joe. Two guys taking a shower naked isn’t all that awkward, both of them think. It happens in the locker room all the time.
As Joe gets behind Michael and begins shampooing his hair he remembers the last time he washed someone’s hair in the shower. As he thinks about his make-out session with Sophie in the shower the night before, Joe gets an idea. He washes out the shampoo from Michael’s hair and turns him around. Joe sees that Michael also has a hard-on right now, which just reassures him that what he is about to do is okay. Joe caresses Michael's face and strokes his neck.
“You should maintain yourself and hairy legs are no longer in fashion,” remarks Joe.
He grabs a razor and begins shaving Michael’s body. Michael poses no objection. See Joe’s hairless body in front of him with bouncy curls hanging down to his shoulders just turns Michael on even more. “All done! Now it’s time for conditioner,” says Joe. As he turns Michael back around, he begins to work conditioner into his shoulder-length locks. Once Joe has covered all of Michael’s hair with conditioner, he reaches over to the counter for two hair ties and ties Michael’s hair up into pigtails.
Michael can’t see what Joe is doing but feels a tingly sensation while Joe plays with his hair. Joe grabs the pigtails and slips in his throbbing cock into Michael’s butt. Michael moans with pleasure as Joe pegs him from behind. Once Joe cums, he reaches forward and stops the shower. Joe steps out of the shower and kneels down in front of Michael. Michael, still memorized by Joe’s dry hair with floating curls grabs another hair tie and begins to gather Joe’s hair up into a ponytail. Joe takes this as a sign and begins sucking Michael’s cock. Michael uses Joe’s luscious ponytail as a manhandle and finally pulls out to climax in his hair. It’s now Michael's turn to wash Joe’s hair. He finishes up his sensual shampooing and then gets out of the shower.
Michael puts the pink panties back on and Joe throws on the yellow romper. “You know I had a lot of fun trying out different hairstyles yesterday. Maybe I can try some on you,” asks Michael. Joe gladly sits down in a chair as Michael tries every kind of braid he can think of. The two have fun playing with each other’s hair all night and eventually fall asleep together. The next morning, just as they are getting ready to leave, both Michael and Joe put their hair into playful high ponytails and head out. They planned to have fun styling the other boys’ long hair on the long bus ride home.