Nasty Boy Lovely Girl
- 3 years ago
- 17
- 0
Nasty Boy/ Lovely Girl Part 6 free porn video
Two hours later Imogene had left with a big smile on her face and
bigger check in her hand. She also left me exhausted and bewildered at
my new collection of cosmetics and at the precision work of art which
was my former boy's face. As she was leaving she patted me on the
shoulder and whispered in my ear, "Remember, Moisturize! All the
teenage boys are doing it!" She then laughed hysterically and went out
the door.
I was left sitting in front of the makeup vanity, in my heels, skirt,
and twin set, with my make up done to the nth degree. My smokey
charcoal shadowed eyes sparkled, my thick dark long mascaraed lashes
curled almost to my thin arched and feminine drawn kohl eyebrows, my
cheeks glowed a girlish pink over the pearlish foundation of a lustrous
light beige with a warm matte finish. Imogene, who must have been a
disciple of Miss Vicky, put my boy-lips through a gauntlet of lipsticks
and glosses, finally settling on the finished product of a deep candy
apple red with intense gloss sheen, fashioned into a very full pouty
lower lip drawn past my natural lipline and a precisely drawn archer's
bow of an upper lip.
As I sat there in front of the mirror, fingering the pageboy flip my
father had brushed into my long girly hair earlier, looking at the boy
who was no more, my Father came up behind me and put his hands on my
shoulders, slowly fingering the bra straps which were evident under the
lavender twin set. His fingers seemed to find a fascination in the feel
of the taut straps.
"Son, I must say you make a better looking woman than you ever did as a
snotty mouthed male brat. Maybe by now you are starting to see that
this punishment is going to do you some good. Already some things have
changed in your attitude. It is hard to believe that your Mother and i
haven't had to try out those nasty clothes pins on your perky little
nipples. You have done well to avoid that punishment. Before
feminization, every hour on the hour, you deserved to be punished
harshly. Now, in heels and skirts, you have settled down to the
behavior of a respectful and obedient sissy boy/girl. Keep it that way,
son, be the girl you have to be to atone for your flaws as a boy.
"So, my boy, it is good that we continue your punishment, to instill
even more deeply, the training and the demands of femininity right over
the nasty habits of your past boyhood. By now I am sure you have come
to the realization that your life now is all about lipstick and bras.
And it will continue to be about lipstick and bras and periods and
beauty salons for as long as it takes to satisfy us, your Mother and I,
that never again will an obnoxious male brat ruin our lives.
"Now, I am very happy that Imogene decided on that particular lip color
for you today. I hope you learned how to apply it exactly the same way
again. Miss Vicky will love it!
"Your Mother is waiting downstairs, right now, to take you to Miss
Vicky's salon. Just think! Today my son is to have his first Perm. When
I was your age, all I had to endure was Mom giving me a Toni Home Perm
in the kitchen. We didn't have a of of money for fancy woman's salons
and expensive beauty treatments, no matter how much I was to be
punished. My mother made do. Even if I had rather short hair, she was
able to instill in me the rigors of womanhood and all that is necessary
to be a proud, confident female. You, son, are to experience a what I
came to long for at the end of my punishment period. By the time my
mother was finished with me in my time of punishment, I was begging her
to send me to a salon to have the tightest perm they could do to a
young boy. I begged for other thing too. Maybe sometime I will tell
you. We might be able to share our experiences of a womanly nature. I
think I would like that. But only after your punishment is completed.
"Now look at you. A couple days ago you were a nasty boy with a bad
makeup job and wearing his mother's bra, being made to enter the holy
of holies of womanhood, the Beauty Salon. Now you are, to all outward
appearances, a young lady who is on her way to experience one of the
most significant rites of her female passage. Your Mother cried her
eyes out when Marie received her first Perm. She had lost her little
girl and now had another woman in the family. Maybe she will feel the
same way about your Perm.
"So, stand up on those high heels, thrust out your breasts, lick your
painted lips, and tell me what you want to happen right now."
"Father, I am sorry for all the trouble I have caused over the years
and I will take my humiliation as the sissy I am."
"I want to be permed, painted, pinched, padded, and prettified as a
punishment for all that I have done. Nothing you can do to me will ever
negate the pain I have caused you and Mother. Forgive me! Send me to be
permed!"
"Mother! Your little girl wants to be Permed! The Sissy Boy wants to be
humiliated on the streets and in the home and in the salon. She/He is
ready for you to take him and do female tortures to him.
"Go with your mother, Wendy, and come back a humiliated boy and a
beautiful girlish Sissy. I will know every feeling which comes upon
you. I have been there, now you have to go also.
Father patted me on my girdled rear as I toddled past him on my heels.
Then, all of a sudden he said "Stop". I stopped in my tracks and
waited nervously for what was to come. A string of blazingly white
pearls appeared in my father's hand and then around my neck. My father
had accessorized me in exactly the way I had wanted. My father never
ceases to amaze me with his knowledge of feminine things.
Mother waited at the bottom of the steps. She appraised me with a
practiced eye and nodded approvingly.
"Come, Miss Wendy, Miss Vicky just loves to perm 16 year old Sissies.
And she will die for your lips. I hope you have a fresh tampon in
place. This experience will surely get your juices flowing. Here let me
put these clip on pearl drop earrings on you. A girl has to be her
finest for her first Permanent. Grab you purse, dear boy, and off we
go."
The ride to the Salon was different this time. I was a beautiful girl
and confident in that roll. I still had to refresh my lipstick at each
stoplight. But now I enjoyed teasing the male drivers in the car next
to me and if there was a woman driver, I showed her that my skill was
equal to her's in the lipstick applying department. Mother found this
to be very funny.
She laughed. "You think you are a girl now, huh? Well I bet even being
so beautifully made up and dressed to the nines as a woman can still
become an excruciatingly humiliating experience once you get into the
Salon. Miss Vicky has many ways to put a Sissy in his place."
When we arrived at the Salon, Mother told me to go on in and tell the
receptionist that I was Wendy and had an appointment for a perm. I
walked, with a slight wiggle in the rear, confidently to the Salon and
entered into the smells and the sounds of womanhood.
I stepped to the receptionist's desk and announced that I was Wendy,
there for my appointment for a Perm with Miss Vicky.
The receptionist smiled at me very pleasantly.
"So, you are Wendy, are you? The last time you were here I remember you
as a frightened little boy wearing his Mother's bra. Now look at you.
"Ladies," she said very loudly to the six or so other women customers
sitting in the waiting room, "I think you would all like to know that
this 'Wendy' here is actually a nasty 16 year old BOY who is being
punished by his put upon parents by being turned into a certified, A-
#1, limp wristed, curler wearing, petticoated She-Sissy.
"If you would like to inspect this lowly, less than female, wench, at
any time, feel free.
He is to be permed by the most skillful perm artist we have. And she
delights in giving very very tight perms to nasty boys. So when his
head is encased in perm rods, feel free to touch them, softly or
roughly, and appraise his Candy Apple Red lips. Candy Apple Red lips
which will probably not touch the lips of a pretty young girl, but may
well caress the coarser lips of another boy or, perhaps, a much
stronger man. I am sure his parents have a suitable young man picked
out to yes the female wiles of this painted Sissy.
"Wendy, turn around and walk sexily, as a fashion model would do on the
runway, to each woman here in the reception area and curtsey to each
and say: I am a Sissy and I love lipstick and heels and I am going to
have a very curly Perm!"
Mother was right. I have never had a more excruciatingly humiliating
experience. It made no difference if I was seemingly a beautiful girl.
These women knew what I was and laughed their asses off at me. I
curtsied six times and said what I had to say six times and then, with
my cheeks even redder that my lips, the receptionist took my hand as
she would do to a 10 year old girl and led me to the waiting tortures.
She squeezed my hand and winked back over her shoulder at the smirking
crowd still awaiting their treatments.
Miss Vicky stood behind the chair at her styling station and smiled as
I approached. She wore a severe straight black silk skirt which came to
below her nylon encased knees. Her feet were raised on what seemed to
be black leather five inch stiletto heels. Her top was a deep red satin
long sleeved blouse which buttoned up the back and clung to her
glorious bosom in just the right curvature. As before her makeup was
flawless and her golden blonde hair shone as a polished helmet crowning
her severe visage. I was intimidated, as I was meant to be.
"So, Miss Wendy, the nasty little boy child is back with us. Looks like
he has had some very interesting experiences. So pretty. So painted. So
dressed. He walks in those heels like he was a woman. Well good. This
is a woman's place for woman's beauty. We only do women here. What does
the "Woman", Wendy, want me to do to her?"
"Please, Miss Vicky, I have to have a Permanent. I want a Permanent. My
femininity demands a Permanent. If I am to pay back all the suffering I
caused my parents, I must have a Permanent to further my humiliation as
the boy I used to be."
"Well, well, that is a lovely speech from a Sissy. Since you have never
had a permanent before maybe you should hold back on all that "wanting"
till I am through with your miserable boy-head.
"Sit down, you wimp! Get yourself comfortable in your bras and girdles
and be demure in your skirt and twinset. For the next three hours you
will be squirming in your pantyhose.
"I think the pink cape with the white ruffles is in order for this
perm. Don't you?"
"Oh, by the way, I LOVE your lips. They will be so gorgeous framed by
all your new permanent curls. You will have to beat the OTHER boys off
with a stick."
"Now lay back and I will do the washing. Who did your hair this
morning, Wendy?"
"Father did."
"Oh, Wendy, I can tell you stories about your Father and your Mother
and the very chair you are currently occupying. But that will come
later. Now we will talk about you and your perm. Are you interested in
tight spiral curls or in flowing waves? Don't bother answering. Your
Mother has told me just what you are to be interested in. So, do you
think girls like boys who visit Women's Salons and have perms and wear
such stylish and cute feminine clothes and makeup?"
"No, Miss Vicky, I think real girls will laugh at me. Though some may
want to play with me and do humiliating things to me. My sister likes
to play with me as a girl. And my Mother lets her and encourages her to
do the most feminine things to me."
"Well, I can understand that. As a boy you treated her like crap. So
now she wants you to be as female as possible so you can know what it
is like to be abused by boys. I hope she keeps up the good work of
abusing a Sissy Boy.
"Now for the first perm rod. I want you to hand the rods to me as i ask
for them. That way you can tell everyone that you helped perm your own
hair. I am going to put these pink rods very closely together and very
tightly rolled. I think your little boy head should take about 50 rods
and we will have pictures taken so you can show all your friends how
you look during the perm process. Aren't you glad you refused to have
shorter hair like your parents wanted you to do? Your hair is just the
right length to allow me to do any kind of perm I want.
"You know, don't you, that after you are permed, then I will set your
hair and you will spend another nice long time under the dryer before I
create a style for you that June Allyson or Rosemary Clooney would have
died for. Now keep the curling rods coming. Help me perm your girly
hair like the Sissy you are."
As i sat in the styling chair, my pink cape with the little girl white
ruffles bulged at the chest as my bra seemed to push my breasts even
further out, seemingly in honor of the woman's perm I was undergoing.
With each tight tug at my scalp, my shadowed eyes felt tighter and my
eyes grew wider allowing my lashes to lengthen even further than the
Super Extending Mascara had already accomplished. I sat up straight and
made sure my skirt covered my knees demurely. I wasn't a nasty boy
anymore. Though I was a Sissy, I was a Sissy receiving the ultimate
feminine beauty process, a Salon Perm, done by an expert in the beauty
arts. I should be grateful that i didn't have to undergo a Toni Home
Perm like my Father had to.
My head filled with perm rods. The tightness of the rods underscored
the acrid smell of the perm lotion. That singular womanly smell that is
second only to the musky womanly smell of female sex. The smell which
is the closest to a pure woman's smell that I will ever achieve. The
application of the cotton rolls around my rolled head and the swift
position of the magnificent and frightening Salon dryer over my plastic
wrapped permed head made me somewhat dizzy. What saved me from passing
out was the feel of my Mother's hand on mine as I sat under the dryer,
baking in my first girl's perm. She looked into my eyes through the
plastic visor of the whirling machine and smiled at me with a Mother's
pride at her daughter's first permanent. She stayed with me while I was
under that dryer and showed me hair style magazines which featured the
finished hairstyles of women who have obviously had a very good perm.
Even in my humiliation, I was intrigued and fascinated by what could
and will happen to me, a 16 year old boy, tortured in a woman's world.
At last Miss Vicky raised the damnable hood and released the hair from
one of the rods. She inspected this specimen very carefully and
pronounced it satisfactory in it's job of making this boy into a girl.
My head was unrolled and the remainder of the perm process took place
within the gaze of many of the other women undergoing treatments in the
salon. I heard several women say to each other that, yes, this was the
boy who was being punished by being made into a sissy girl. And my
Mother was happy to give details about my bra size and heel size and
with great pride, the most intimate details about my experiences with
tampons and douches. One woman in particular was mesmerized by the
shape of my lips and the application of my lipstick and gloss. She took
my chin in her manicured hands and studied my red lips and I heard her
say to a friend nearby that it was quite possible that her husband
might, indeed, look very nice in that same shade.
Finally, Miss Vicky had to shoo all the kibitzers away and she got down
to rolling my newly permed hair on the curlers which would create my
finished permed hair style. Once again I sat very straight in the
styling chair as the rollers were placed strategically to achieve the
maximum height and volume in the finished coiffure. Every once in a
while Miss Vicky's breasts or her elbow would brush against my boy
breasts and send a shiver beneath my bra. When the last roller was in
place and a net was put over the structure that was my head, my Mother
put her hands to each side of my permed and head and gently kissed the
top of the topmost curler. Then she led me to the waiting diabolical
dryer for another session of intense heat which would at last render my
hair into what can be called a woman's pride and joy.
As soon as the helmet of the fryer was lowered, a manicurist appeared
at my side and took my right hand in hers. The implements she had on a
tray by her side told me that this was not to be a simple shape and
paint manicure. There were packages which pronounced that they held
"Milady's Acrylic Tips-3/8 inch Extensions". I was to be fitted with
acrylic nails which were much longer that my already long sissy boy
nails. I guess a woman's hairdo called for a woman's manicured long
nails.
As the manicurist worked on my male nails and the dryer baked my permed
hair into submission, suddenly my Mother came back to the dryer leading
a parade. There in front of my dryer were three of the guys from
baseball team and their mothers. My Mother beamed!
"Boys, you know your friend, don't you? Only now his name is Wendy.
Don't you think he looks nice? So cute and pretty, isn't he, boys?
Mother's, Wendy is being punished for being a basic jerk of a boy. I
don't know about your boys but Wendy deserved this punishment, and to
his credit, he is accepting whatever his Father and I are having done
to him. Now, boys, you can come up to the dryer and I will raise the
hood and you can feel the rollers on Wendy's head and inspect his
makeup and if you ask nicely, I will have him raise his skirt and show
you how the garters on his girdle hold up his hose. Come on boys, don't
be shy. Don't be afraid. This isn''t happening to you. Yet. Just to
Wendy.
The boys circled the dryer chair and Mother raised the hood and
tentatively each boy fingered a roller or two and they carefully
inspected my makeup in awed silence. One boy even touched the tip of my
bra encased breast which was sticking out under the pink cape. He
neared fainted when he realized that he had just touched the bra
encased breast of a Boy-Sissy. All the boys avoided my eyes except for
when they were inspecting the deep eye shadow. The mothers seemed very
thoughtful as they appraised their sons and their son's reaction to
meeting a real Sissy.
"Miss Vicky, isn't it so nice that you have so many fine specimens of
manhood here in your salon all at the same time? I bet this has never
happened."
"Oh, I have had many specimens of "manhood" here in my salon. They
weren't very manly when they left, though. But I tell you what. Since
these nice young men are here to see their friend being punished, I
would like to do something for them and their mothers.
"Boys, each of you go sit in one of the chairs under those dryers. If
your mother's agree I will have my staff of manicurists give each boy a
manicure and I will let the mothers pick out the color of the polish.
Won't that be nice, fellas? Your nails do seem to leave a lot to be
desired, even for a boy children."
The Mothers, slowly but surely, came to the realization that this would
be a very good thing to have done to their rowdy male offspring. The
boys were installed, each under a dryer hood and the dryer was turned
on to a gentle breeze and the manicurists approached the boys. And with
the help of the three mothers, unwilling fists were unclenched and
lovely colors were picked, one lucky boy had a mother who picked a
crimson red to match the red piping on the boy's baseball uniform.
As each boy had one hand done in a pastel pink or a red, the other hand
came easier and the mothers, all three, gathered around the reception
desk and made appointments for their sons to receive some version of
what the lovely Wendy was having done. While the appointments were
being made, the boys remained under dryers allowing their nails to dry.
The boys were asked if they would like a to have a matching lipstick
applied but for the time being no one said yes. Though I did detect a
hesitation in saying no from two of the boys.
As my friends, or those who used to be my friends, were being manicured
and polished, my set was deemed dry. The three boys, with the new nails
shining brightly, watched as I was released from the confines of the
dryer and stood up on my three-inch heels and smoothed my skirt and
slightly adjusted the bra straps which had slid down during the time I
spent in the drying chair. I walked as Mother had instructed, with my
wrists held at boob height, limply. The heels clicked on the hard floor
of the salon as I sashayed from the rank of dryers to the styling
station. Before I sat down in the styling chair, Mother reached into my
purse and took out my lipstick. She handed it to me and pointed to the
mirror. The boys and the mothers watched intently as I took the
lipstick, removed the cap, wound the tube to it's fullest extent, and
brought the lipstick to my lips and did what any 16 year old girl would
do in a Beauty Salon. I made myself beautiful. The Mothers loved it. My
Mother loved it. The Boys just looked at their nails and thought about
the offer of matching lipstick. I don't know what they thought about
the offer. I can guess.
Everyone gathered around the styling chair as Miss Vicky took my hair
down. The Perm was magnificent. Each curl was structured and would
stand the course of time. They would surely stand up to the coming two
weeks, if that was to be all of my punishment.
Miss Vicky styled my locks into a mass of curls which stood elegantly
out from my head evenly from my right ear all around the back of my
head to my left ear. There was a rank of curls about six inches top to
bottom all around my head. The top had a slight teased rise brushed
smooth to give way to structured curls, so my head was framed in curls
which ran from the scalp out about four inches to it's lacquered curly
finish. At my forehead pin curls danced above my eyebrows. My pearl
earrings hung just below the ridge of curls and put an exclamation mark
on a spectacular display of coiffure par excellence.
Mother stood next to me and pictures were taken. Though I was being
punished and I was thoroughly humiliated by having my friends there, I
still felt the pride that a young lady must feel when for the first
time she is totally a woman.
While the pictures were being taken, Mother whispered in my ear, "I
have exactly the same type of pictures of your Father when he was your
age with your Grandmother. For that matter I have the same type of
pictures of your Father from a couple of years ago when he had to be
punished again. As a matter of fact, it was one of a long series of
punishments which I have had to give to your Father. You didn't know
that, did you?"
to be continued..
Safiya
- 22.03.2020
- 15
- 0
Nasty Boy Lovely Girl Part 10
- 3 years ago
- 23
- 0
Nasty Boy Lovely Girl Part 2
- 3 years ago
- 15
- 0
