The Hairstyling Model II free porn video

This is a first-person account of an involuntary feminization, which is fiction The Hairstyling Model II By I. R. Nixon We left the room. Uncomfortable as I was dressed like this, I knew it would be hard to detect my real gender. We approached the elevator and Sharon instructed be to go back and get her notepad off the dresser in the room. When I returned to the room I discovered the maids rolling on the beds in laughter. It was now obvious why Sharon had sent me back to the room. When I joined Karen in the elevator I informed her that I was glad I could entertain the maids that day. She said I should get used to the idea of being laughed at. If I let it bother me I was in for a long day. I agreed. What she said next startled me. "The platinum blonde maid in the room. The one who liked your name. She's got a dick bigger than yours. She lives with a boss bitch that makes me look tame. That poor guy hasn't seen a pair of pants in two years. She brings him in for color and perms and he doesn't give her one iota of crap." "Jolene I want you to go and gather your things from your room and take them to your car. The I want you to meet me in the restaurant." It was obvious she planned to control my whole day and did not want me to be wandering about the hotel. I went to my room. There I grabbed my items and packed my bag and took the elevator to the parking garage. I locked the items in my trunk and return to the elevator then to the floor with the restaurant. I viewed myself in enough mirrors by now that I was convinced nobody would know my real identity. If Sharon was anything she was professional. My transformation might have been entirely forced but it was complete. She had taken me from Marvin to Jolene in front of twenty women and not the slightest consent on my part. Two days ago I would have said that three women couldn't do that to me. She did by herself with ease. When I arrived at the restaurant I noticed she was seated with Rosy in a corner near the window. I walked over and joined her. I seated myself and the waitress came over and asked what I wanted I ordered coffee and asked for a menu. "Did you have a nice night Marvin?" Sharon asked for no other purpose then to let the waitress know I was a male. The waitress attempted to suppress a giggle then walked away. I gave both women a harsh look then looked out the window. Sharon knew what she was doing. Humiliating me was now becoming mere sport to her. She picked up the phone and dialed a number and told the party she was calling that I would now be the model at the first demonstration. "Well Jolene I'm glad to see you opted to come back and do the show?" she stated while looking at me. "Did I have a real choice?" "You sure did. When I sent you back to get your stuff you could have changed clothes and been halfway home by now. You had two chances to escape easily last night and did not do so. Why do you think that is?" It dawned on me she was right. Even worse she knew why I had not tried to escape and I didn't and that troubled me even more. I hated what she was doing to me but I had not tried to escape or even thought of escaping. What was it that made me stay in this misery? "Actually you are probably wondering to yourself why you are here instead of on your way home. You are not going to like the answers Jolene. Believe me you are not the first, last, or only sissyboy I've done this to. I have a healthy stable full of pretty young fillies like you. You see Jolene you were selected for this role by my staff and myself sometime ago. You have to meet some pretty rigid criteria physically then we test you mentally for this. If there is anything left of your ego by now get ready to lose that too." "There are three things I look for in a guy before I select him. First, you have to have a full head of great hair. I mean a full head. Two reasons, first the obvious. I can't transform a bald or balding person very easily. Secondly, it is a good indicator of testosterone. Macho guys with high levels of testosterone don't like to be pushed around by female hairstylists. Next you needed a face that allows for easy conversions. Rugged manly faces aren't the best platforms for makeup demos. Finally, I like guys that have small girlish builds. I can pretty much handle anyone up to one eighty or one ninety. However, some of my girls have a problem with guys above one fifty. You weigh about one fifty so my girls can handle you easily if you get any silly ideas. Make no mistake some of my gals are mighty stout and can easily make short work of guys like you. That little blonde you were flirting with last night works for me. I seen her panty and skirt a six- footer before he knew what happened. So to put it bluntly Jolene you were selected because you have sissy hair, a sissy face, and a sissy ass." I could hardly believe my ears. I pictured myself as the man from GQ and she selected me because I would be easy to feminize. She was right my self-esteem was fading fast. The worst part was yet to come though. "Jolene you were not selected for your physical attributes alone. There were other things I look for as well. First you are hetro at least biologically. I watched your crotch when I bumped my boobs on you and liked what I saw. Actually, I do discriminate, but somehow I don't think you are going to file any complaints on me. The reason I like hetros is because they fear the dick with a passion. When they watch Tyrone's weapon heading for their mouth they collapse in panic. Let me tell you something. Disobey me one time and Tyrone will give you a good mouth-fucking you will never forget. I've never had to send him back to anyone for a second treatment. I picked that up from by British grandmother, she caught grandpa fooling around with their housegirl. She had the gardener, in her words, "give him a good cocking twice a day, both ends, for two weeks" then she divorced him. Grandma was not to be fucked with. Next I wanted someone that was malleable. You might have noticed that I and the girls in the shop have been getting a little bossy on you last couple of visits. We want to see how you reacted. You were remarkably easy to boss and that is good. Finally, I wanted someone who likes to showoff. You love being the one observed or the one on center stage. Despite your humiliation last night you did not leave even when I gave you plenty of chances. You also didn't try to hide in the bar when those cocktail waitresses approached. That is really why you are here today and didn't run. You want to be on center stage again no matter how humiliating and don't try to deny it." The waitress arrived and poured our coffee. Rosy remarked about what a pain in the ass this modeling can be in obvious reference to the previous night. While the waitress was still there Sharon started to apologize for calling me Marvin. "Jolene I'm sorry I called you Marvin earlier. However since our waitress knows your little secret, in fact she even giggled, you should know hers." Sharon then reached over and lifted up the waitress's skirt. Underneath was plumbing that was entirely inconsistent with her uniform. The waitress started to blush realizing that those she too was wearing one of those degrading "dick dresses" that Sharon made her subjects wear. The waitress turned and left. Sharon and Rosy both chuckled. "She should not have giggled at my poor little Jolene. She really should not have." Our breakfast arrived shortly and I sat silently while Sharon and Rosy chatted about the following day. When we were finished all of us got up to leave. Somehow I knew that I was passing for Jolene. When we reached the door Sharon instructed Rosy and I what she wanted us to do. I was again shocked by her casual attitude. "Rosy take Jolene to your room and milk her then meet me in the meeting room. Tonight I'm planning on fucking her, so only milk her once. Also bring the dick dresses down for display. They are really getting to be a popular selling item. That was one of my better ideas if I do say so myself." Rosy took me to her room. I realized that Rosy actually worked for Sharon or at least helped her with the shows on Saturday's. I had no idea what milking meant. I actually had planned to sleep with Sharon, however her announcing that she would be fucking me was not what I had in mind. She was treating me like I was a cheap piece of meat for her pleasure and my wishes were irrelevant. Even worse she was right. She was going to rape my dick and I had no choice. When we arrived at the room. Rosy informed me what milking meant. "I want you to jerk your little pussy off. Some of you sissies get turned on during the shows and we can ill afford to have you little pricks squirting around all over the place. You are wearing a two-hundred dollar outfit and Sharon doesn't want any pecker tracks on it. So get that useless dick of yours out and start yanking." I started to comply when she made a remark about its size. I decided I had had enough of Rosy. I proceeded to tell her off right on the spot. "You know Rosy it might grow bigger if I could look at a women. However it is still big enough that if I stuck it in your mouth you couldn't say take it out." "You got me there bucko. Tell you what. Let me help?" I agreed the next thing I knew Rosy had her vice grip hand on my dick and was pumping like crazy. Faster and faster she went. She pushed me on the bed and pumped and pumped. In a few minutes I exploded and soaked a tissue. Rosy took the dripping tissue and wadded it into a ball. She then forced the wet gooey ball into my mouth and clamped her hand over my mouth. I struggled but she was way too strong. "Swallow it asshole! Swallow all of it! Now who can't say take it out? A little bit on the salty side for you Jolene?" I gagged and gagged but eventually swallowed the gooey wad. Rosy's anger was now quite clear to me. She was about to let me know who was running things. "Now you listen hear you pussified little she-boy. We have big plans for you today. You have got several modeling sessions today and you better learn what's what. Just whom do you think you are talking to me that way. You are supposed to be the submissive little pussboy model slave and you don't give anybody any shit. Any one of those women down there asks you to do something you say yes mam and you do it. You don't give me or anybody else any backsass all day long. You wouldn't be the first person I ever sold in a gay bar. When I was sixteen I turned my twenty year old brother into a drag queen and made him suck dicks for my spending money so don't fuck with me sissyboy." Chills ran up my spine from Rosy's words. What the hell was I thinking about? This bitch was the queen of mean and I was giving her shit. I believed what she said about her bother and I was learning fast about my new status. I left the room far more fearful than I had entered the room and the day was about to start. Rosy remember the display case for the dick dresses. It was huge but she handled it with ease. Her biceps were nineteen inches if they were five. I shuttered to think what Rosy could do to me if she really wanted to. Arriving at the meeting room I noticed something that shocked me. The room was no longer filled with a mere twenty hairstylists. The room contains nearly seventy women and this was going to be a much larger audience. Sharon informed me that the first session was open to the general public so the audience would be bigger. I still felt confident that no one would notice my real gender. Hell I wasn't even sure of my real gender myself. I walked toward the stage and noticed a videotape playing on a small television. To my shock and horror it was a tape of the previous evening. There I was getting permed, set, hot-rollered, and combed out. Copies of the tape were selling fast. Any thought I had of passing was gone in an instant. Every woman in the place would watch my conversion. I knew I wanted to run and hide. Sharon had said nothing about this. Sharon approached and told me to get on stage the show was about to begin. "You never said anything about the videotape. Everybody hear knows what happened to me. They all can see I was transformed from Marvin to Jolene by you. There is no way they believe I'm a woman." I protested my plight to Sharon but she knew me way to well and really extended my humiliation. "Okay Jolene you don't want to go on that's fine. Your clothes are packed in your car and you are free to go. I can turn you back to Marvin in five minutes or you can spend the day as Jolene. You don't have to model anything today. It's your choice." She smirked as she told me this. She then stood and watched as I decided what to do. My first impulse was to run and leave. I couldn't believe she was letting me leave this easy. All I had to do was walk away. For me the choice seemed so simple. Just turn and walk away and my nightmare was over. All I had to do was start walking towards the door. Nothing to it I thought. Two seconds and I'm gone. No more bitches to push me around. No more humiliation of front of a crowd. No hot-rollers, Velcro rollers, color service, or make-up demo. A real Saturday in San Francisco not modeling women's styles in a hair show. I'm outta here. I'm gone. "Jolene, why haven't you left yet? I told you, you could leave. We can find someone else to do the show. You are free to leave." Bitch I thought. She was right. I wanted to be on stage. I wanted to be modeling as Jolene in front of these women. Sharon knew it to. Being Jolene on stage was too great an opportunity to pass up. Somehow passing as Jolene increased my self-esteem. Beside it was just for one day anyway. In a few hours I'd be done. Sharon that bitch knew my weak spot and she exploited it perfectly. She really was diabolical. She was borderline demented but she was also diabolical. That bitch, that superbitch, she knew what she was doing and she enjoyed it. "Come along Jolene its showtime. We have three Oscar winning performances today. You are really going to love the new do I have selected for you today. I know I really am a bitch. But I'm a bitch that's got your number Jolene." The videotape had revealed what I was trying to conceal that morning. Most of the seventy or so women knew that under the perm, the curls, the makeup, and the clothing I was a male. Oddly enough this did little to change their rapt attention during the first demonstration. Sharon sprayed my hair with a lotion then combed the lotion through. She then started to roll my hair with Velcro rollers. By now this had little effect on me. In fact most of the women in the audience were watching the demonstration intently unconcerned about my status. Sharon then started a quasi-comedic routine that most found amusing. The one-liners might have had me chuckling had I not been the victim of them. "Welcome ladies, I hope everyone in the audience is female. If not you had better make a run for it now. I mean guys if you can make it to the door before I catch you, your home free. You don't want to know what happens if I catch you." The audience relaxed and chuckled and she knew she was on a roar." "First you beat the livin' shit out of him." she quipped as she pointed to me. The audience laughed in nearly a timed response. She continued, "In case any of you wonder what happens when you go zero for four arm wrestling with me." She was relentless while the audience roared. In fact I was starting to appreciate her humor. The one-liner was a least showing some imagination. "Talk about poetic justice last year he went to the drag races on his wife's birthday." "You gotta luv it last night someone called him a 'chick with big hair'." "Velcro rollers. Don't worry about Velcro rollers Marv. It's the breast implants you should worry about. I mean you should really worry about those." "Ladies I guarantee it. Do this to him three times and you'll never hear another blond joke again." She finished rolling my hair and made sure I saw myself in the mirror. I was surprised how quickly she had finished. In the mirror I saw a huge clump of Velcro roller fitting my head like some sort of grotesque helmet. She turned the chair so that her audience could see the sides and back. She then rotated the chair so I faced the audience. No one was smirking or giggling. She continued her comedy routine. "Okay you are free to go play golf. I can take the rollers out when you get back. Bye." "What's that? You don't want to play golf this morning. Why these rollers won't interfere with your game?" "What! You think that you golf buddies would give you a hard time. NO! Why would they give you any shit? Just cause your in rollers? If they laugh you let me know and I'll put them in rollers." "Did you ever think you would see this? He would rather stay here and model hairdos, women's hairdos at that, instead of playing golf." The audience was still finding her amusing. She was not about to let up with her banter. Somehow I knew it had a second purpose but I was uncertain what that purpose was. Perhaps she was conditioning me for something else. With Sharon you were never sure. "Okay gals, once you get any guy in this situation. The styling lotion is still not dry. They are sitting with their hair in rollers. They are looking feminine and feeling really humiliated. You have two options. You can use the blow dryer and dry their hair. Or you can take them grocery shopping." "I mean picture it he's got a head full of rollers, its Saturday and the store is really, really crowded, a giggly high school girl is working the checkout. Don't limit yourself to one store either. Hit two or three maybe take him to the mall. Use your imagination." "Relax! Relax! Just kidding Marv. I'm going to use the blow dryer now." "Strange isn't it? Men always think their problem is solved when I remove the rollers." In a few minutes she removed the rollers. She again pivoted the chair so I could see myself in the mirror. The picture had not changed much even with the rollers gone, however the hair was more or less unchanged. The setting lotion allowed the now-cooled curls to remain in place. "Okay the comb out or final styling is ready to begin. Our lovely model can hardly wait to begin." Her comedic tone kept the audience laughing during the entire demonstration. I had to admit it did make the ordeal slightly more bearable. "When you set some guy's hair for revenge there are three types comb out. The 'I've-had-my-fun-you've-learned-your-lesson.' ego- saver comb out. Or the 'I-have-a-right-to-be-bold-at-your- expense' little-giggle comb out. Finally, there is the 'You- asshole-I-ain't-forgiving-or-forgeting' tears and humiliation comb out. Each one produces its own results on the subject male. The first produces a feeling of relief. The second produces a slight embarrassment. The third of course should reduce him to uncontrollable sobbing. My favorite is really the third. Watching some jerk shaking a big pile of freshly-set feminine curls around while they cry in humiliation does your heart so much good." "My dear Grandmother from England had the technique really mastered. My poor brother made the mistake of thinking at nineteen and a college student he was too old for Grandma's wrath. He should have got his long hair cut before he challenged Grandma. Later that evening I saw him standing before a mirror his hair was a mass of curls from his forehead to his shoulders. From the rear or the sides you could not recognize him as male. The view from the front offered little more help. He was sobbing and crying something fierce. Grandma brought my sister and me into the room to see him. This heightened his humiliation and his sobbing increased. Grandma directed him to kneel down. She then told my sister to get her makeup and apply it to him. The makeup was really redundant he looked every bit a female without it. My sister did apply the makeup in her usual artistic way. Poor brother George he hid in his room for a solid week. I'm not sure he ever got over it." She next invited a short blond woman from the audience. She asked the woman to assist with the comb out. Under Sharon's direction the woman busied herself combing out mass of hair and curl. I could not see and was not sure I wanted to see what they were doing. Finally they finished and Sharon turned be towards the mirror. At first I was shocked to see the style. Way too much volume, way too much curl, and way to coifed and girlish. Then I remembered that I was Jolene and was dressed like Jolene. As Jolene the hairdo would go perfectly with my clothing. All things considered I was not that unhappy with the style. However, there was still a long day ahead of me. Sharon made me walk around in the audience and show them my new style. The woman who did the comb out was not shy about bumping her rather large bosom against me and a few women in the audience were giving me more than a few pats and pinches. Luckily that ridiculous dick-dress was working and there were no embarrassing sights. Nancy however noticed that the women were making too much contact with me. After the demonstration she had Rosy give me another humiliating milking. Sharon invited me to join her for lunch. She told me that I would not be part of the color demo. That came as some relief since I had spent nearly six hours being part of this or that demo. During lunch I remarked about her humor. I also asked if the story about her brother was true. She said it was not exactly true. However, it seemed to fit better than the real story. I asked what the real story was. She told me with her usually callousness. "When my sister and I were teenagers we noticed that some of our panties were disappearing. We suspected my brother George. Our parents were planning an extensive trip to Europe that summer and Grandma would stay to supervise us. We told Grandma of the panties and she said she could answer our questions soon. She searched George's room and found nothing. She then decided to test George. She ordered him to wear a set of my panties and a mini-skirt. George made the mistake of defying Grandma. Even though she was in her fifties she proved herself quite able. She gave him an old-fashioned bare bottom spanking told him to put the panties on under the miniskirt. She then set him down and proceeded to set his hair. She left him alone in rollers and told him he would have to sit there for one hour. Poor George not only did he like women's clothing but at nineteen he was a human sperm pump. My sister, Grandmother, and I waited outside the door listening to him until grandma decided there was by now enough evidence. We rushed in to find the mini-skirt and the panties soaked. I mean soaked. His hardened member was still raging against the restrictions of the panties. Grandma made in "soak his panties" again in front of both of us as we giggled uncontrollably. Grandma sent him to the shower then we took him to the mall for a new hairdo, makeup, and wardrobe. He never wore men's clothing until the end of summer." When we finished lunch Sharon and I went to the color demo. Marie, one of Sharon's assistants, would be doing the color demo. I was glad I was not the model for this. The model looked to be a male about fifteen years of age. Rosy was escorting him to the chair. This suggested that he was probably not all that willing. His facial expression indicated his displeasure. I was able to instantly empathize with him. Marie began to discuss the demonstration. "Patrick's mother has volunteered him for this very interesting demonstration. As you can see Patrick has light brown hair. His sister Carolyn has deep auburn hair. What I am going to do is color Patrick's hair to match his sister's. However I am going to leave small portions of Patrick's hair unchanged to provide contrast. The end result will be deep auburn hair with light brown contrasts. This is called reverse highlighting. Then I'm going to give them both near identical styles and you will see the total effect. I've already cut Patrick's hair to the same length as Carolyn's." You could tell that poor Patrick was not enthralled by this idea. In fact he was not the least little bit happy to be there. I mentioned it to Sharon and she enlightened me. She seemed for more intrigued by the demonstration than Patrick's fate. "I think Rosy had to persuade him a little. She has a way of doing that. Usually when she shows them her biceps they get the picture fast. I've seen her cower two good-sized men at the same time." "I can imagine. I felt the power of her persuasion this morning." I responded. "Marie really does a great job with these specialty colors. You should also watch her with the iron. She uses it as a weapon I swear. The speed and precision she shows is unbelievable. I might have her do more demos in the future. In fact next week she will be demoing you in Los Angeles." I had forgotten about next week. Right now my time as Jolene was nearing an end. One more demo and I could return to Marvin. Odd as it seemed I was beginning to enjoy being Jolene. Being a different gender allowed me to engage a new persona as well. In fact I was beginning to look forward to next weekend. However, Marv would be returning soon and I was glad about that. The color demo ended. Patrick was not exactly thrilled with his new color and the highlighting did little to make him happy. He definitely did not like Marie's actions with the curling iron. Marie took only a few minutes, three and a half, according to Sharon's timing to style Patrick's hair. Patrick was now standing with his mother while some of the audience gathered around for a closer look. I am sure Patrick wanted to leave immediately and never return. My makeup demo went smoothly. The worst part of the whole thing was that I was becoming too critical of Sharon's work. I thought she should have used a different shade of eyeshadow and the color of the base was too dark. This really bothered me since the day before I would have had no idea about any of this. The demo was short and few bothered to stay until the end. It was nearly four o'clock when I was finished as Jolene for the weekend. Sharon told me to get the items from my car and bring them to her room. I was not told why but I was not about to argue with Sharon. When I returned to my room I was once again shocked. "Hello Marv! Remember me!" It was Denise and I knew I was in real trouble. Denise and I had broken up about a year before and she was really hurt by it. We had not spoken since the breakup and I knew she was pissed about it. "Denise. Uh good to see you again." I muttered meekly. "Can it asshole! I'm the last person in the world you want to see right now. Rosy would you be so kind as secure his hands and then would you both please excuse us." Rosy pushed me on the bed and then tied my hands with a pair of panty hose. She then pushed me on the floor in front of Denise. Sharon and Rosy both left and I found myself helpless in front of Denise. I had a feeling the worst was yet to come. Denise approached me and lifted my skirt with her shoe. She broke out laughing at the sight of my dick dress. "Sharon was right that is the perfect metaphor. However, I have some unfinished business with you Marvin. You see when we were going together and you were buying rooms for your girlfriends on my credit cards I never knew how much you stole. I foolishly paid no attention and I'm fifteen hundred poorer. However, I can still press charges." "I can explain those." I muttered only to find her foot crushing my testicles. "Shut-up! You're busted asshole!" "Now Marv I didn't go to all this trouble to have Sharon and Rosy do this to you so I would have to listen to your stupid excuses. So here is what will be happening to you in the future. You are not going to like it but that is of no concern to me." "First, I'm claiming all royalties of your video until you have paid me back everything you owe at interest. Secondly, if I am satisfied you have made proper restitution I will not press charges against you. Third, Marv is going to disappear for about a year. That's right Jolene is sending Marv packing for awhile. Fourth, Revenge is a dish best served cold. Marv have you ever been to West River South Dakota, population eight-hundred and seventy, in the winter. Trust me that is cold, I mean fucking cold. My little sister owns a bar there and she is always looking for young gals to tend bar. I think Jolene would fit right in there. I strongly suggest Jolene gets really good at being Jolene because if those cowboys ever find out Jolene is really Marv. Well, we shouldn't think about that. You will be leaving in the morning and Rosy has graciously volunteered to accompany you." I was just beginning to fully comprehend what Denise was doing to me. She was the one responsible for this and this weekend was only the beginning. Being Jolene on occasion was one thing but living as Jolene was another. Worse, being bartender to a bunch of drunken cowboys out in the wilderness was a nightmare I had no desire to be part of. "Now there is another matter we must discuss. Remember how you really used to love getting oral sex?" "Yes, you were great at it. You had really perfected it." She picked up the phone and dialed a number. In a few seconds she told the person on the other end she was ready. She hung-up and then stared at me. "Yes I really was good at it wasn't I. And you know what I can teach you to be good at it too. I can show you those techniques that you had grown to love. Jolene can be just as good at giving head as I was." "What??" She stepped over me to answer a knock at the door. When she opened the door I saw a tall slender male about twenty-five. She invited him in and had him stand next to me. I was still flat on the floor and had to look up at the tower male figure. "Marv or Jolene this is Tyrone. You have probably figured out what Tyrone is here for so we can get started right away. In the words of Sharon's grandmother he's here to give you a "good cocking on both ends". Don't even try to argue about it. Besides Jolene you are going to have to service some rough and tough cowboys in the future so you need all the practice you can get. I mean I can see it now. Saturday night in West River at Maryanne's Place. The lovely Jolene on her knees sucking some big old cowboy dick praying he doesn't find out about Marvin." Tyrone started to remove his clothing and I could tell Sharon had not exaggerated about him. "You will learn to pleasure Tyrone the way I pleasured you. However, you will have it different. I had you modest endowment to work with while you will have a nine-inch gagger to learn on. So when Tyrone is ready we shall begin. We will start with the licking and kissing then we will proceed from there." She walked over to me and grabbed me by the neck and hoisted me to my knees. She positioned me so my mouth was directly in front of Tyrone's aroused member. Tyrone placed his hands on my shoulder so he could control me. His powerful grip left no doubt he was in charge. Denise seated herself in a chair. She lit a cigarette leaned back and relaxed. She blew the smoke upward in a demonstration of arrogance and control then announced, "Okay sweetsomes let's begin."