Andy
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Andy 11 free porn video
Andy by Transbonder, translated by Leah from the German
ELEVEN
During a boring class in school I thought about everything one more time.
I wanted to put an end to presenting myself as a girl. Be a normal boy
again. With my pals...
I thought about Bernd again. Something about him stood out here, too.
Suddenly I didn't know any more what I really wanted, if as a boy I had
to be around assholes like him.
After school I still didn't know what I ought to do. I actually didn't
need a wig any more. If I really had to go to Mrs. Weber's another time
to keep my promise, then I could use my old wig. It was just for Mark and
he wouldn't know the difference.
Finally I started out on my way to the hair salon after I had changed
clothes. Svenja knew what I needed after the events of yesterday and had
something especially nice laid out. Instead of a little girl I now felt
myself as a stylish university coed.
After all I could easily give away the wig, I mused, or sell it on eBay.
Even if I were to feel bad by betraying her generosity. At least she
ought to get to see me after this.
In the salon, which was surprisingly large, there was pandemonium. In
fact it was a combination of several businesses: hair salon, barber shop,
nail studio, style adviser, and a few more. Apparently every beauty
problem could be taken care of here.
I went to the reception desk. "Ah, our VIP," the woman exhaled. She
estimated my age and despite my clothing came to the conclusion that she
could use the familiar form of "you" with me. "You appear to be someone
important for the boss to make such a big fuss."
In the next moment however she wasn't so sure whether she hadn't
misspoken to someone so important. She covered it up with a more business
appropriate approach and busied herself with her computer.
"We'll have to improvise somewhat; unfortunately that's the only way it
will work. I can't change all the appointments. But right now several
girls are having their break and could work on you together."
I actually didn't want any of this done, so I said, "In their break?
Better not, I don't want to get them upset."
She looked at me with astonishment. Apparently she was accustomed to
different behavior from her customers. "That's not a problem. They
sacrifice their breaks only when business is like this right before
Christmas. Since they're very well paid, they'll do it gladly. It will
just be somewhat hectic for you and many customers come because they want
to feel comfortable."
"No problem," I responded, "I much prefer to be finished as soon as
possible."
"Terrific. Let's see, hair piece, a facial and nails?"
I only knew about the hair piece, but I nodded. My nails could use a good
manicure.
I was led into an adjoining room. Apparently the room was only equipped
for temporary use in that it was very plain in comparison to the rest of
the business. That was fine with me. I didn't want people to see me with
my short hair.
I had to sit in a salon chair. In a moment a young blonde woman with
impressive upper dimensions entered. "I'm Karin," she introduced herself,
"and I'll take care of your hair. Kim and Kim will be here right away to
do your nails, and Claudia will take care of your facial. It can get a
little hectic with so many people."
OK, I knew that already.
She took off my wig. "Oh, that hairnet must be pretty uncomfortable."
I nodded and thought, that after everything it hadn't held well enough.
Or I hadn't fastened it well enough.
"This will feel considerably better. Now we won't pay as much attention
to the hairnet as to your hair." With that she removed my old hairnet and
brushed my hair thoroughly until it was really fluffy.
I understood as good as nothing and merely let her do her thing.
She showed me a hairnet which already had the form of a head. Then she
laid it on my head. "I'll pull your hair through the mesh of the net.
Sometimes that can pinch."
With a small instrument she laid hold of a few hairs and pulled them
through the mesh. Then the next few hairs and so on. Oh, oh, I thought to
myself, this is probably going to take a long time.
Now two asiatic-looking girls came and took charge of my hands, one on
each side. My cuticles were pushed back, and then I felt my nails being
filed.
I couldn't see any more because yet another girl laid a hot cloth over my
face. Some time later she removed the cloth, only to smear a thick paste
onto my face. Someone laid two cotton balls on my eyes and once again I
could see nothing.
I sensed that my hair was being styled, an unidentifiable feeling of
fingers. With my eyes closed I became more and more languid.
I only noticed that I had fallen asleep when I was awakened. "Oh, I've
been asleep," I confirmed unnecessarily.
"That is one of our tricks," grinned the blonde girl. "That way we can
work in peace. I'm finished with the net."
There was nothing more to be seen of it and scarcely anything to feel. My
hair looked like always. That was very good.
"The net is now woven into your hair and will be held firmly," she
explained. "That way you can forgo the hair piece and treat it like a wig
that will work by itself."
She set something on my head that looked like a wig, but had no definite
form. Once on the head it took on its shape. But I felt practically
nothing of all this, since there was no tight band around my head. It was
as though someone had cut off my hair and laid it loosely on my head.
"Now I'll fasten the hair piece to the net. That won't take long." A few
minutes later she began to brush the wig. It almost felt as if it were my
real hair. Aside from that I still felt practically nothing.
My new hair was longer than the old wig. It fell down onto my breasts.
Exactly as with the other wig, I had a ponytail.
I could also see that a number of hairs were shorter. Even with my new
knowledge about wigs, I could not tell that they were artificial hair. It
looked completely genuine. And with the longer hair I was more feminine
than ever before.
She evened things a little with the scissors, then she was satisfied.
"Well, finished. What do you think of it?"
She placed a large mirror in my hand. I looked at myself close up.
Nothing suggested that the hair was not genuine. It was perfect. I had
concentrated so much on my hair that only now did I observe how thin my
eyebrows were now. The effect was noticeable; even without make-up I
looked very feminine.
I was wakened out of my thoughts. "The hair doesn't need any special
care, you can wash it like your own. You can also do everything else you
do with your own hair such as a ponytail."
I was released from the chair. Once on my feet I supported myself with my
hands and only now noticed my fingernails. They were longer than before.
Not terribly long, but they stood at least half a centimeter beyond the
ends of my fingers. The nails began in a shimmering pink, which became
more intensive toward the front. And on every nail there was a design on
the front half. I couldn't make out clearly whether it represented
something or was simply an ornamental pattern. It looked very expensive
and special, but still suitable for a teenager.
I was completely overwhelmed. Benumbed by the multiple impressions I was
led to the front desk. "In about six to eight weeks the net will be too
loose and must be refastened. Do you want to make an appointment for
that?"
Huh? I didn't understand what was going on. My lack of an answer was
interpreted as though I had declined.
"Don't forget to take the trouble to make an appointment for the right
time. I've already called a taxi. Yes, there's the driver already."
##
Only when I was in the taxi did I have enough time to think. I pulled at
my hair. Firm! It hurt a little when I did that but nothing moved. The
hairpiece was bomb-proof. I already wanted to ask the driver to turn
around and take me back, because no one had explained how to take the wig
off.
Then various facts coalesced. The hairpiece was not designed to be taken
off. You could wash it and make a ponytail...
I was washed up. I had a girl's long hair and couldn't get it off. And a
feminine ponytail at that, not to speak of the thin, arched eyebrows. My
fingernails were now my smallest problem. Even if it would be a shame to
destroy the little works of art with polish remover.
I was so out of it, that I didn't even have the energy to cry.
##
During the rest of the drive I became somewhat more calm. I decided that
I would find a solution later, when my brain wasn't still under so much
stress.
Mrs. Weber thought I looked simply fantastic. "That was really worth it.
I hadn't thought you would look SO good. You are a real beauty."
I made a special effort not to show my frustration. But I noticed that
she was a little disappointed that I showed so little enthusiasm.
She had meant it so nicely and certainly spent a considerable amount of
money. I didn't want to disappoint her and took pains to show her how
great it all was.
The weather reflected actually how I looked on the inside. Dark clouds
drew around us and soon a violent rain of sleet was coming down. Mrs.
Weber didn't want me to walk home and drove me there in her car. She
waited until I had the house door unlocked.
I gathered all my spiritual strength, unconsciously smoothed my skirt and
went inside.
##
My boots made enough noise with their high heels, so that Mom noticed me
right away. But she needed a moment to actually recognize me. She had
only seen me with the loose hair of the blonde wig, and in that I looked
completely different. Add to that that the blonde wig simply looked
artificial. This hair piece was brown like my own hair and absolutely did
not look like a wig.
"Andrea? How- how did you get this wig? And these clothes?" She was
absolutely astonished.
"Mom, I have something to tell you."
"It seems that you do. But first take off your jacket."
I did that, while she stared at me. At my short pleated skirt out of
which my legs in their black schimmering stockings towered and then
disappeared into the kneehigh black boots. The softly flowing blouse,
over which I wore a sleeveless weskit. And naturally my expensive
jewelry.
"I can't really grasp how you look. Like a college coed."
Yes, that was the reason I liked it so much.
"From whom did you get that? And why are you dressed like a girl? I
thought you were babysitting?"
I took a deep breath. "It's a long story."
"I have lots of time."
And then it all came out. How I put on Biene's things and then had gotten
the job as babysitter, but which was only for girls. How Svenja had
bought me the clothing and had given me her tights. How I had gotten the
earrings and finally the too-long hair.
When I was finished, for the longest time she said nothing. I would
rather have experienced a burst of outrage instead of this silence. The
only thing that I could hear was the second hand on the wall clock and my
own breathing.
Finally she said something. "I am disappointed. Disappointed that you
didn't tell me the truth. And that you have deceived Mrs. Weber."
"Deceived? I'd never do that..."
"Yes, deceived. She wanted a girl as babysitter, and you pretended to be
one. That is fraud. And fraud is a crime. Above all, if a person enriches
themselves in so doing. And that applies to you."
I hadn't seen it like that.
"I will probably have to talk to her-"
"Please, don't!" I interrupted her.
"And why not?"
"I like her so much, I don't want anything negative to happen."
"And then you pretend some more to be a girl? How long is this supposed
to go on? A month, or a year? What if something were to happen? Just a
plain everyday accident would do it?"
I had to hang my head in shame. The unfamiliar hair was like a curtain in
front of my face. If I said now that I'd vowed that today would be my
last time as a girl, she'd never believe it. So I kept my mouth shut.
As the silence grew, I said very carefully, "But I have worn girl
clothing here at home, too. And you've given away all my boy clothing."
She sighed. "And that is precisely the thing that has saved you this
time. I've made mistakes, too. But you looked so much like my brother,
and I didn't want the same thing to happen over again."
Brother? I didn't know about any brother. Only about the step-brother.
And that was recent. But I didn't dare ask more questions. This wasn't
the right time. And just what wasn't supposed to happen again?
"I have to think. And you should, too. I want to know from you, how you
visualize some solution to this problem. OK, now go on up to your room. I
don't want to see you any more until tomorrow morning."
##
I had just taken off my boots. I sat there on my bed with my arms slung
around my legs rocking back and forth. Somehow the movement was calming.
At first my thoughts were completely vacant. Only after a while did the
first conscious thought appear. Tomorrow was school! The last school day
before vacation. Would Mom give me an excuse? I doubted it.
After an hour or so, I got up. I really didn't know what to do with my
hair, but I could work on my fingernails. I got the polish remover out of
the bathroom.
I looked at the little art works on my hand. Sighing I moved with a jerk
and wiped the saturated cotton ball over them. Nothing happened.
Incredulous I observed the fully intact long nails.
I tried other things, but absolutely nothing helped. The nails appeared
to be indestructable. I wasn't going to get rid of them today apparently.
The nail studio had closed a long time ago, and I didn't even know how to
get there. And the taxi money had all been used.
I needed help. Why didn't I think of that sooner? I grabbed my cell phone
and called Svenja. She picked up immediately.
"Hi, Svenja."
"Andrea, what's up? You sound so funny."
"A disaster! Actually one big and ten small catastrophes."
"Eleven disasters? Up till now you just had them one after the other."
"And I've not even included my mom in the total." I quickly related the
course of events. "What should I do now? I can't go to school. Do you
think I can turn in an excuse after the fact?"
"You can forget that. It's the last day of school. Many parents already
want to leave to avoid the traffic tie-ups. For that you need a note from
your doctor, a simple excuse isn't enough."
"Oh man, I'm toast! Can you at least tell me how to remove these
fingernails?"
"You can forget that, too. From how you've described them, those are
acrylic nails. They are VERY durable."
"I've noticed that already. But women must be able to get them off
somehow?"
"In nail salons they have special methods. I've never seen anything like
that in the drug store."
"I can't go to the nail salon. It's too far away."
"Then you'll just have to go to school."
"Svenja, I can't do that! There has to be some kind of solution."
"Right now I can't think of one. I'll think about it and call you back."
"Promise?"
"Promise!"
##
After half an hour she called. "I have an idea. Not the best, but I
haven't figured out anything better."
"Yes?" I said full of hope.
"The nails and the hair can't be gotten off, so you've got to go to
school that way. But you really shouldn't try that as a normal girl."
"Not as a girl in any way, shape or form."
"Not so fast. I said normal girl. It could be different if exaggerated.
Then it would look like a costume - for a prank or something."
"Exaggerated? You surely don't mean the little-girl things?" I definitely
would not go to school in the pink dress.
"No, not at all. But my Mom played Santa Claus at a party. More
precisely, Mrs. Claus. She had a red costume with white fur."
Mrs. Claus?
"Dressed that way you could have the laughter on your side."
"Do you think so?"
"That's my only idea."
I thought for a moment. "OK, there's nothing else left for me to try."
"Good. Come to my house tomorrow before school. Put on white tights. I
already have the costume in my room. But you can't come with nail
artistry on your fingers, that won't work."
"But what should I do then?"
"Nail polish, Dummy. Bright red nail polish, so that it matches the
costume. Do you have something like that?"
"I'll have to look in the bathroom. Mom has quite a lot of nail polish."
"Good, then paint your nails. Twice," she added, not quite sure, how
extensive my knowledge was in the field of nail polish. "We'll meet
tomorrow morning. I'll cross my fingers for you."
##
I can't say that I slept well. I rolled from one side to the other.
That's why I was happy when the alarm finally rang.
I had already thought about what I ought to wear. I couldn't wear pants
to Svenja's. Her mother had already reacted so oddly to me. If I were
show up today in girl jeans but without the appropriate curves, she would
probably go ballistic.
My greatest difference from Biene was my hips. The upper body wasn't
markedly so different. I was just a little broader in the shoulders than
she. Her waist was smaller than mine, but not all that much. After all
her pants fit me.
But she had a typical female pelvis and derriere. Her waist mainly looked
so small because her body below the waist was so beautifully rounded. And
in my case, there was nothing there. My backside didn't project to the
rear nearly as much as her's. I would have needed a kind of breast form
for my hips and bottom and a jeans dress over that.
I went into the kitchen with mixed feelings.
Mom looked bleary-eyed. Instead of a Good Morning, she asked, "Do you
intend to go to school like that?"
"No. I was at my wit's end as to how I could go to school with my hair
and fingernails. Svenja had the idea, to make a costume out of the
situation." I told her what Svenja had suggested.
"You are so similar to Peter. He also liked to go around in costumes."
Who was Peter? And I didn't costume myself because I liked to do it. "But
it could work. Come home right after school. I'm not going to work
today."
Oh, that didn't sound good. This would be a rough day for me, a very hard
one. I wished that it were already over.
##
Svenja was shocked by my hair. "My God, what that must have cost! It's
fantastic!"
"Yes, if I were a girl."
She looked at me strangely. I had become familiar with that look lately.
Since we didn't have much time, I took off my dress. Svenja gave me a
very red mini-skirt with white fur on the hem. Then came a jacket that
fit me just right at the waist. Naturally also red with white fur.
Then came the obligatory boots. I knew that her mother's shoes more or
less fit me. But the boots were a bit tight. Finally a red cap.
"You look sexy," Svenja said.
"Exactly what I need for going to school," I groaned.
"It'll work, believe me."
I hadn't put on any make-up. There was no sense in that. But Svenja gave
me suitably red lips. Very red lips, such as I'd never worn before.
##
Once again my heart was in my throat. And once again girl clothing was at
fault. This time long hair and long red fingernails, too.
Naturally I drew all the attention when I went into the classroom. But
the laughing was mainly on my side. A number of guys found it neat that I
had the guts for this. And the girls thought it terrific how sexy I was.
It came off better than I had hoped.
In the break crowds of kids closed in around me. I didn't have a chance
to find Biene or Svenja.
Then there was only one more class, and then vacation had arrived. As
promised, I went straight home.
Mom looked at me reflectively. "And how did it go? I don't see any black
eyes."
"Much better than expected. No one teased me, instead most found it first
rate."
"You had shameless good luck. Believe me, I know, that it can go
differently."
Always these insinuations. Why doesn't she finally tell me what was
wrong? But Biene could operate beautifully with insinuations, too; it was
probably a female thing.
I was about to take off my cap, but Mom stopped me. "Leave that on a bit.
Later I want to take a picture of you." I had hoped not to have to wear
the too narrow boots too long.
"I've spoken with Mrs. Weber."
I froze. I didn't care about anything else, but I didn't want Mrs. Weber
to think badly of me. I couldn't keep the tears from appearing, which ran
down my cheeks. I had my hands full keeping the dam from breaking.
"Now, now," Mom said in a surprisingly soft tone. "No reason to cry."
I looked at her uncomprehendingly and surprised.
"She really has fallen for you. Praised you in the highest way. Thought I
must be extremely proud of my daughter. I told her that for the most part
I was satisfied with my daughter."
It took a moment before I understood her statement. "You - you didn't
tell her that I am a boy?"
"I had intended to. But I couldn't do it just after she had praised you
so."
A gigantic stone fell from my heart. The rest of the tears, which were
still coming, I wiped away with the back of my hand. Mom gave me a
handkerchief.
"What am I going to do with you?" she asked rhetorically. "Here is my son
in a costume that for a girl of his age is much too sexy. And he pulls it
off."
She paused and then continued, "And my daughter babysits for weeks and no
one notices that she is a boy. How do you do that?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Do you want to be a girl?"
I hesitated for a moment and then said, "No, naturally not."
Naturally she noticed my hesitation. But she ignored it.
"Call Svenja and ask her when we can pick up your things."
"Pick up? I thought..." I didn't know what I was supposed to be thinking.
"Now, we'd already decided that you were to live during vacation as a
girl. You remember, right? With your new hair-style it's not really
possible to do anything else. And the way you looked yesterday, I ask
myself, what it is that you get out of dresses."
Suddenly it seemed more than anything the lingerie that I bought was much
too sexy. How was I to explain that?
"And that came for you today." She showed me an opened package. My pumps
had arrived. "Did you spend your money for those?"
"I just ordered the pumps myself, Mom. Honest! Svenja took care of
everything else."
"And why did you buy such pumps for yourself? They are nothing for a girl
of your age."
"When over the weekend I was wearing the satin things, you know, the
black skirt and weskit, everything looked so childish with the tights.
Then I thought how it might look better. With a pair of black stockings
and pumps I wouldn't look like a small child any more."
"Oh, I understand. When I was your age I always wanted to look older.
Believe me, that changes when you become older. Was it so bad for you to
have to wear little-girl things?"
"In the beginning, yes. But then all at once it became fun, because you
were so nice to me."
"Oh," she said again, as though she understood something for the first
time. "Good, than call Svenja now; meanwhile I'll get the camera."
##
After I had posed for several pictures, I changed clothes. I felt best in
one of the other jeans dresses. And it looked good with my white sweater
and tights. And then a pair of new shoes that I'd not yet worn. Exactly
like the two dresses that Mia had bought. Although those weren't bad at
all. I'd helped pick them out after all. Now in the coming weeks there'd
be enough opportunity to wear them.
The shoes weren't bad. They were bright blue mocassins with a large
embroidered blossom. Very comfortable, and with soft soles. And really
went well with the jeans dress.
Then I drove with Mom the short stretch to Svenja's.
Her mom wasn't at home, for which I was relieved. Svenja didn't exactly
know what she should say, and so she was unusually quiet. She took back
the Mrs. Claus outfit and gave me all of my things, including the jeans
dress that I had left in the garden house this morning. Just a few
minutes later we were on the way home.
##
Together with Mom I cleared away everything from my clothes closet. She
assessed every piece. Two or three skirts she found too short, she liked
the rest.
She said nothing about the lingerie, but I noticed her face. She hadn't
believed that her new daughter would wear some of those things. To say
nothing of her son.
Well now, I thought to myself, there was still nothing here that was as
extreme as the things in the attic. Above all those panties, which went
between the cheeks of my backside. Yuck!
Soon everything was cleared away, and my closet was more than well-
filled. There was a long line of dresses hanging one next to the other,
and next to them the blouses. In several compartments skirts were stored.
In addition to the original supply of more than ten pairs of tights came
two more four-packs with the princess theme. Altogether twenty. Then
about ten more from Svenja. That made thirty. And not a single sock. Once
again I really couldn't fathom what had happened. In my closet there were
more clothes than in Biene's.
Mom had taken my three pairs of pants, since the closet was so full.
Wouldn't need them anyhow, she opined.
##
Mom was charming again. The talk with Mrs. Weber had really been a stroke
of luck for me. I didn't dare think what might have happened. In the end
Mom might have sent me to school in a skirt. Dreadful thought!
Mom treated me like her daughter, as though there had never been a son.
Somehow it did make sense. My fingernails once again showed their
artistic motifs. Mom had mentioned that such a red was nothing for young
girls. The polish remover made short work of the color without damaging
the acrylic nails. Which wasn't a surprise any more.
In the afternoon Biene called and wanted to talk about what there would
be to eat tomorrow. Oh man, I had completely forgotten to call off the
party! Biene didn't know anything about what had been happening and I had
to bring her up to date. That took quite a while. Sometime Mom mentioned
that just because I look like a girl, I didn't have to take on all the
bad habits right away and hog the telephone for hours.
Then Biene wanted to know whether the party was going to take place
anyway. She'd gotten herself an extra sweet dress and she didn't want
that to have been a waste. I told her that the party was currently
postponed, I didn't want to do it at this particular time.
I wasn't even sure whether this party was a good idea at all. I'd been
dressed as a little girl entirely too often. I had begun to be accustomed
to these things, and that seemed like a reason for apprehension. If I had
to, then I wanted to become accustomed to the things that Svenja had
bought. They were at least normal.
Angelica
- 28.10.2021
- 19
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