Making The Grade
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Making The Grade - Chapter 3 free porn video
Greg suddenly realized that making his case was going to be much tougher
than he imagined. Miss Marlow was simply waiting for the opportunity to
further intimidate him.
"Well, I guess you know why I'm here," Greg began.
"Speak up, dear. You're so soft spoken and demure," the instructor
interrupted.
The feminine characterization only undermined his confidence further. As he
tried to resume, Miss Marlow stopped him again.
"Did you need another copy of the waxing professionals? Please tell me you
are getting your brows done!" she seemed to plead, feigning the sort of
excitement a teenage girl might express.
A flash across Greg's mind told him he would definitely be doing his legs,
if anything at all, at least in sheer defiance of the teacher if nothing
else.
Then he resumed his effort to reason with the woman.
"Miss Marlow, I came to this vocational school because I want to run a
salon some day. After researching and soul searching, it has turned out
that this is what I feel my calling is. And while I don't want to be put
through all this in the process, I'm not going to give up."
"Put through all this!? You don't know anything about challenges, young
man! You know what I wanted to be when I was your age? A surgeon. Not a
nurse or a doctor's receptionist. A full-fledged surgeon. But you know what
I was told? 'Sweetie, that's a man's realm of work. A woman cannot succeed
there. She has no business trying.' I had to give up my dreams because
again and again, I was roadblocked, sidetracked, turned away because I'm a
woman.
"I had almost four years of biology and nothing to show for it, unless I
just wanted to marry a rich frat boy and be his stay-at-home bride. Out of
disgust, I quit college and tried to open my own business. Only, the banks
turned me away again and again when I went for a small-business loan. 'You
would make a wonderful secretary, dearie. You could be such a great asset
for a successful businessman.' Or, 'with such a good head on your
shoulders, you'd be a great grade school teacher.' Nobody would take a
beautiful, intelligent woman seriously.
"So I fell back on my looks, studied beauty -- as if I really needed to
study -- and helped open this institute. That way at least, I wouldn't have
to deal with men anymore. And now more and more like you come along,
wanting to be treated just like the young ladies. And that's exactly what I
am going to do.
"A man's world isn't enough for men anymore. Now, you have to come and
steal part of my domain. Well, not without a fight, you won't!"
Greg tried to respond, but didn't have much he could say.
"I'm not here to steal anything. I just want to get my degree," he meekly
said.
"Listen to me. Every day with you sitting in my class in 'vocational
school' as you call it would only infuriate me even further about how men
can do whatever they want, and women have to ask permission from men to
pursue their desires. This is beauty school! It's a woman's world here!"
Feeling totally at her mercy, Greg could suddenly see the wheels turning in
Miss Marlow's mind. He was getting a bad feeling where this would lead.
"I'll tell you what. If I don't have to look at you, I'll let you stay.
I'll stop trying to drive you out. But you'll have to agree to meet my
conditions."
"How can I stay out of your sight?"
"You are already going to be subjecting yourself to waxing, hair
extensions, along with makeup and hair design demonstrations. This really
won't be much different.
"Whenever you are attending my class, you will appear entirely female."
"You've got to be kidding!" exclaimed Greg.
"Listen, that's the deal! Take it or leave it! Otherwise, you won't last a
week. I don't care about the lecture days, but in my labs, you will just
another one of the girls. Is that understood?"
Greg was speechless. There was no way he was going to commit to this.
Certainly not on the spur of the moment. He couldn't even believe he was
giving the idea a moment's consideration. But he chose to keep the
conversation going.
"How exactly would I do such a thing? It's impossible."
"Impossible? Nonsense! Men do it all the time. Crossdressers,
transvestites, the transgendered and transsexuals. Some of them make the
most beautiful women. And with your body and facial features, you could
give them a run for their money."
Greg felt himself blush.
"How you do it is your problem. You can go to beautician, or a place that
specializes in transforming men into women, you could have your mother or a
girlfriend help you, or you could find endless resources on the Internet
and do it yourself."
"I can't afford any kinds of places. I don't have women's clothes. Where am
I going to get the money?"
Greg was debating as if he would really do such a thing if he had the
financial means. He hoped something would click with the teacher to have
her call this whole thing off.
"Tell you what I can do. I can have the school bill you for an extra course
or extra materials, and you can take out a student loan to pay it. Plus I
have lots of ex-students who owe me favors that can help. They can do some
amazing work on you."
Miss Marlow was now suddenly shifting from trying to drive Greg out the
door to almost encouraging him to stay -- but only stay under her terms and
abiding by her rules.
Greg suddenly wondered if this had been her goal all along, or if she
really was just stumbling upon this compromise of sorts. In either case,
his efforts to make the idea seem impossible for the teacher to consider
appear to be backfiring. He has suddenly painted himself into a corner,
leaving him with his back against the wall in a "put up or shut up" sort of
situation.
"I don't know. I mean, it's a lot to consider. I don't know how... how can
I do it?"
"Well, you've got a few days. I'll tolerate you on Wednesday if you sit all
the way in the back and keep your mouth shut. But by Friday, you have to be
waxed and womanized."
"What about the other students? What are they going to say?"
"You will just have to be convincing, won't you? I won't tell them. Greg
Monroe will be dead to me, or at least withdrawn from the class as far as
everyone else is concerned. I'll even have a nice, pretty name for you.
How's that sound?"
"And my lab partners?"
"Well, you might be able to fool them, but you're probably right. I doubt
it. But what good is it for a girl to have a secret if she can't share it
with someone? I could talk to them, though. I'd make it worth their while
to help out."
Greg figured she was right about Tisha and Parker. They would more than
likely keep things on the down-low. They have been pretty understanding so
far, and they just met.
Still, he felt like he was in the biggest Catch 22 of his young life. On
one hand, he faces complete humiliation. On the other, he loses perhaps his
best and only chance of ever succeeding with a true career in life. Is it
worth the cost and the sacrifice?
There was a part to this that had him intrigued, though. That's because of
a past experience he kept tucked away in the back of his mind. In a flash,
he suddenly began to relive it.
----------
During his high school days of having girls confide in him and practically
treating him like one of their own, he had undergone an experiment of
sorts. A close friend named Nicole was talking with him about what they
would do for Halloween one year. They were talking in the confines of her
room when she got an idea. She pulled out a gown she had worn to homecoming
the prior year, and suggested Greg go as the prom queen.
He recoiled at the idea, immediately rejecting the notion. But Nicole
persisted, using suggestions of sharing some affection to entice Greg. He
eventually caved.
After finally convincing him to just let her make him up and see what he
thought, Nicole told Greg to strip down to his BVDs to let her see what she
had to work with.
Greg tried to take some solace in thinking the ordeal would get him closer
to Nicole, hoping in the end, it would all be worth it. His pre-pubescent
appearance meant Nicole didnt have to worry about body hair on Greg, except
for his legs. She sent him to the shower with some scented soap and a
bottle of Nair, instructing him to turn off the water and then put it on
his legs.
Fifteen minutes later, Nicole told Greg through the bathroom door to go and
relieve his burning legs by rubbing them vigorously under the shower with a
wash cloth.
When he emerged hairless from the hips down, Nicole was waiting with a
longline body briefer that acted as a girdle around the waist and a pushup
bra around the bustline. Replacing his underwear with a pair of panties at
Nicole's instruction, Greg then stepped into the young woman's foundation
garment. It snuggly wrapped around his figure, and helped transform it into
a more feminine form.
He hadn't noticed until he had it on, but the piece of clothing had a lot
of padding built in -- in the cups of the bra, the hips and the derrier.
"Why do you have something like this, Nicole," Greg asked.
"I bought it for you, silly," she confessed with a wide grin.
Greg blushed, realizing he had been set up. He wondered how long she had
been planning this all. "That's why she's always nagging me to avoid
overeating," he thought.
Regardless, he now stood before her in the panties and body shaper she
bought him, with silky, bare legs awaiting her next feminizing order.
Then, she taught her pupil how to properly put on his panty hose --
repeatedly rolling them together and slowly pulling them up his ladylike
legs and fastening them to his body shaper. When she was satisfied he had
mastered the skill, she stuffed his C-cups a little further, and then had
him step over to her vanity.
"I don't think we can go with your hair, Greg. We would have to change it
too much. Besides, it is a little on the short side for a beauty queen."
With that, Nicole bunched Greg's hair back and made a tight little bun in
the back, then pulled a thin, nylon cap down over his hair. She pulled it
down a little further than it was supposed to sit, then tucked all of
Greg's hair underneath, then brought the cap back up some in the front.
This lifted the features around his forehead, including his eyebrows,
giving his face and effect somewhat comparable to a brow lift delivered by
plastic surgery.
With his hair tucked away and the sudden change in his face, seeing himself
in the mirror from the waist up gave Greg the sensation of what it must be
like to be a drag queen. And judging from a stirring he felt below, he
thinked he liked it.
Nicole then proceeded to pluck a few stray hairs from Greg's eyebrows after
turning him away from the mirror. Then she began applying makeup to his
face. She painstakingly painted her male friend's mug from foundation and
blush to eye shadow, eye liner and mascara. even curling his eyelashes in
the process. And when she applied a candy apple red lipstick, coating it
with a clear gloss, it was all Nicole could do to contain her own
excitement.
"What?" Greg asked, unable to see what Nicole was seeing.
"Nothing. We're just getting closer. That's all. Now, hush!"
Nicole then added some makeup to Greg's cleavage to accentuate the pushup
effect and make the meeting of his mounds more dramatic.
Then, she grabbed a wig from the top of her closet, warning Greg not to
look yet.
"Wait until we are completely done," she told him. Not wanting to spoil her
surprise, he listened.
Out of a box on a styrofoam stand came a long set of locks that resembled a
long, brunette hairdoo of Brooke Burke or some other model-like maven. It
would be a considerable change from Greg's honey blond. He had no idea yet
how dramatic.
Nicole did not just jump into this look willy nilly. She had done a decent
amount of researching ahead of time to coordinate the entire creation. She
slowly slipped Greg's new doo onto his head. The wig cap helped it go on
easily and sit snuggly on his feminized head. She instructed him to bend
forward so the hair cascaded up over his head and down in front of his
face, then had him quickly flip it back so it naturally fell down over his
shoulders.
"Not so fast. We're not done yet," Nicole sing-songed to Greg, noticing him
trying to go catch a glimpse.
He could taste the lipstick, and feel the weight of mascara on his eyes,
seeing his curled, thickened lashes flicker before him. It fed a feeling of
anticipation welling up inside him.
"Stand up, please," Nicole requested as she walked over to Greg with a long
slip for him to step into. "This will help your gown flare out at the
waist."
The words your gown gave Greg a sudden chill for some reason. Not in a bad
way, but suddenly evoking some sort of hair-raising sensation he couldn't
remember ever having.
Into the slip he stepped, deliberately looking down at his silky legs slide
into the frilly slip, trying to soak up the sense from every nerve ending
the fabric touched. When Nicole had it placed where she wanted, Greg put
his hands at his hips then gently began stroking the fabric.
"Patience, Cinderella. We're almost done," Nicole teased. She was really
tickled by Greg's growing reaction.
She stepped away for a moment then walked back with a garment bag held
shoulder high, bringing it to the dressing area. She unzipped the vinyl
casing and pulled out quite an impressive piece of clothing for a high
school junior to ever wear.
"Oh, wait! I almost forget."
Nicole then began fiddling with Greg's body shaper. She removed the straps,
and tossed them aside.
"We won't be needing those."
The elastic and Lycra of the foundation allowed to be used with straps or
without. And for Greg's gown, without was the only way to go.
"Ta da!"
Nicole was now walking toward Greg with the Mori Lee prom dress, a
strapless tulle shirred bodice. The cascading lace was sprinkled with light
pink tinted beads that flowed down onto the full ballgown skirt.
Greg's eyes were popping out of his head. He couldn't believe he was about
to wear such a feminine piece of clothing. He couldn't believe he had
already reached the point he had, in such a sissified compromising
position.
"Don't be shy. Step in! Step in!" urged Nicole, holding the unzipped gown
open for Greg to enter.
As much as he wanted to watch, he couldn't help closing his eyes and once
again harvesting the sensations. At the same time, he now wanted to be
totally surprised by the finished product.
Nicole primped and prodded, tugged and shifted the gown around Greg's body
like a mother preparing her daughter for her wedding day. Nicole wanted her
friend to look completely perfect for his first exploration of femininity.
"One more thing. Here. Slip these on."
Nicole produced a pair of three-inch heels of ivory satin, purchased in his
size especially for the occasion.
"Your shoe size is about average for a woman, so they really weren't hard
to find."
As Greg wiggled his feet into the closed toed heels, he gave Nicole
somewhat of a teasing sneer at her remark. But with such a feminine face,
most of the effect was lost.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, may I present Miss Courtney Monroe!"
Nicole turned Greg around to the full-lenght mirror, catching him off guard
with the sudden name change. But was he suddenly saw in the looking glass
left him gaping in awe, raising both hands to the sides of his face, but
stopping for fear of messing up Nicole's creation.
"Well, what do you think?" Nicole asked, noting the shock Greg was in.
There he was. (Miss America, practically!) Standing there in high heels
wearing a gorgeous ball gown, complete with a feminine figure to fill it.
His long, lovely hair caressed his bare shoulders, framing a woman's face
of flawless makeup. His eyes especially made him out to be lovely young
lady. The total transformation was completely amazing.
"Oh, wait. I forgot something else," Nicole interceded.
She brought over a nice diamonelle necklace and a pair of matching, clip-on
earrings and put them on her male friend. He looked down at the necklace
and then looked in the mirror, examining each earring as if he had just
been crowned a princess, surveying her royal jewels.
"C'mon! Say something!"
"Well, I just..." Greg began, automatically taking on a higher pitched
voice. "I don't know what to say," he said realizing is vocal reaction,
bringing things back down an octave.
"You really did a good job," he offered, trying not to focus on being
thrilled with the result.
Greg looked like a brunette bombshell. He was a brunette bombshell. Nicole
had made him into quite a young woman.
"Twirl around! See the whole picture," Nicole told him. She knew he wanted
to, but might be reluctant for fear of what she would think.
Then Nicole whispered into her newly-created girlfriend's ear.
"I won't ever tell a soul about this. You can do or say whatever you want.
You look absolutely gorgeous, Courtney. You would have to be blind not to
think so and be totally thrilled."
The loud whisper only added to the intrigue and aura of amazement the whole
situation gave rise to. A sparkle suddenly appeared in Greg's eyes.
"Why do you call me Courtney?" he asked in a girlish voice once again.
"It's just a girl's name that has always turned me on. I don't know why.
Courtney Cox, Courtney Love... I just love the name. If I were a lesbian, I
would want a girlfriend named Courtney."
Greg suddenly blushed, and decided to take a little risk. He was already
totally at Nicole's mercy. What did he have to lose, he reasoned.
"If I ever had a girlfriend, I would want her to be named Nicole."
"We'll see what we can do about that," Nicole responded with a wink.
As Greg once again blushed, he looked down demurely at the image Nicole had
transformed him into. From his new cleavage, down over his gown and to the
tips of his heels. Then he looked back up into the mirror, totally
infatuated with the beautiful face before him. Then he glanced down at his
hands.
"I can't go anywhere with nails like these," he said, almost demandingly.
Nicole practically jumped into action in response, getting her nail
painting kit. She then had her new princess sit back at the vanity, cleaned
up her... er... his fingernails and painted them a rosy red. Greg almost
instinctively waved his nails in the air to help them dry, gently blowing
on them as well. It was something he had seen his older sister do hundreds
of times before. Now he was using his lesson for his own feminine sake.
With his image now complete, Greg began twirling around in the expensive
gown, tossing his hair, striking poses, making seductive expressions in the
mirror. Nicole just stood back and watched, cleaning up at the same time.
Then she walked over and took Greg in her arms.
"Shall we dance?"
Flipping on the CD player, Nicole began to lead Greg in a slow dance. Greg
laid his head on Nicole's shoulder as she pulled him closer. The two were
lost in their role-reversed romance, and began gently kissing for the first
time.
When the song ended, Greg suddenly realized the situation. He was the
girlfriend. Here he was completely made over into a young woman. That's
what it took for him to finally have his first kiss? He felt somewhat
humiliated in one sense, elated in another, and completely confused about
where things with Nicole would go from here.
"I can't go out like this, Nicole," he exclaimed. "This isn't a costume.
This is a statement saying, 'hey! Look at me! I'm a girl!' People will just
think I'm coming out of the closet or something."
"So, you don't want to be my girlfriend?" she chided with a grin.
"No," he responded, unsuccessfully trying to stay totally serious. Then he
softened. "I want to be your boyfriend."
"I guess we better get you out of your gown and high heels then," Nicole
responded playfully.
----------
"Mr. Monroe?!" Miss Marlow said, waving her hand in front of Greg's eyes.
"Earth to student. Earth to student. What's it going to be?"
"I'll have to think it over, ma'am."
"Just remember: no later than Friday. So if you're going to stay, you
better get started soon."
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