I Lost My Wife In A Massage Parlour 8211 Part 4
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Pampour Parlour Mum: Pushy free porn video
Pamper Parlour Mum: Pushy & Proud
By DebWeb.
"Mum please stop this and let me go play with my friends."
"Stop complaining, you know I have a reputation to uphold as the owner
of a new beauty salon business. We have to look immaculate at all times.
It impresses the customers and attracts new ones."
"But mum..."
"No buts just sit still while I fix your hair."
I knew when my mother would not budge and this was one of those moments.
I had planned on a nice day playing with my friends but my mum had made
other plans unbeknown to me. So now I find myself sitting in the salon
chair awaiting all the beauty treatments on the menu as could be so
plainly seen from the board hanging on the wall. How many treatments
were there to give? It would seem lots as I found myself compulsively
glancing at that internally long list. Heck it seemed longer than a
McDonalds's food menu.
"Stop fidgeting if you don't want your hair pulled out at the roots!" My
mother was on a mission and I knew when to comply with her whims. I
stayed still as she released the flaps of tin foil from my hair. At
least she had not inserted me in the oven after she had stuck these
pieces of cooking foil on me. "There we are." My mother cooed after she
had unfurled my hair and rinsed it with warm water. Alas I was mistaken
about being baked in an oven as she stuck me under a helmet and baked my
head. I think my hair was being pulled out by the roots after all. These
infernal plastic contraptions all tangled up in my hair were instruments
of torture. I felt the need to confess to any indiscretion if only to
relieve myself of the pain.
"Wakey, wakey!"
Hmph... I was being pulled out of my chair as well as my pleasant slumber
and brought abruptly back to painful reality by my over excited mother.
"Come along now, this is no time to sleep as there is so much
prettification to be done."
"Pretti ... what?" Mum was immune to my questions and protestations as she
stridently led me to yet another chair.
"My goodness that will not do." My mother tut tutted as she examined my
nails.
"Mum, could you please take the plastic out of my hair," I pleaded.
"All in good time but we really must attend to your finger nails what
would my prospective clients think if they saw them?"
I sighed in resignation as I saw that familiar manic gleam in my
mother's eyes. I could tell there was no stopping her intentions now.
Roll with the flow and don't push back against a runaway train.
Mother started vigorously rubbing my nail tips with what I can only
describe as a file. I know it sounds ridiculous but it is the only way I
can describe it. She was actually using a little file against my person.
"Mum, what are you doing?" I felt like a piece of Lego.
"Your nails are beyond repair until they grow out another inch." She
replied as she attached yet more plastic to my body. They were a
polished pink and added a further inch to my fingernails. I felt a
slight tightening sensation as the adhesive dried. Much to my chagrin
she led me to yet another infernal chair. It was definitely not musical
chairs I can tell you as there was no music to be heard in the
background.
As I sat there watching my mother apply a blob of white cream on to her
fingertips my fear rose just a little. Is she going to poison me, I
wondered?
"There now, this will close your pores and help your makeup sit on your
face," Mother said in what seemed like a reassuring voice.
No longer than I realised the word makeup my mum was applying a liquid
on a sponge all over my face. It felt kind of greasy although the smell
was not unpleasant. Suddenly she attacked me with a big bushy brush and
dabbed all this powdery stuff on me. "That will help the foundation
set," she consoled.
Something I can only compare with a cotton bud came next as she applied
a pink creamy substance on my eyelids. Next a rather slim stick with
bristles which she used to brush my eye lashes. Once that was completed
I could have sworn I could see the tips of my lashes if I rolled my eyes
upward.
As I was beginning to relax myself I sighted light reflecting off of
steel pliers my mother held in her hand. On second thoughts it looked
like a stainless steel clamp intended for torture. My mother raised it
and I fearfully observed the menacing weapon approach my eyes. Suddenly
it gripped onto my eyelashes and clamped down for countless seconds.
The movement of my second set of lashes experienced the same. With not a
little relief I watched mother withdraw the offending tool.
Oh no, more? I was being attacked by another bushy brush with a red tip
and mother stabbed my cheekbones with it! Okay, perhaps a slight
exaggeration but it really was dabbed on my cheeks. Another cotton bud
on a stick? Where was this one going to invade? I felt a cold waxiness
as mother slid the tip along my upper and lower lips. She handed me a
tissue and told me to clamp my lips upon it. Then she slid that stick
along my lips once more. I could not deny that the flavour of the
lipstick tasted sweet.
Relief at last as mother released the plastic from my scalp and teased
my hair out. Why is my hair so long? It barely covered my ears when I
entered the salon this morning. It was now reaching half way down my
back.
Mother noticed my startled look and gleefully smiled. "The miracle of
hair extensions my dear, just until your own hair grows longer."
After primping and preening my new crown of glory my mother led me to
not another chair but a door. On entering I immediately recognised it as
being a walk in wardrobe. It was brimming to the full with garments,
shoes and accessories. A little girls dream you might say.
I was attracted to the plethora of denim skirts while also eying up a
nice sweatshirt. Mother had different ideas pertaining to the more soft
and feminine attire.
And so there I was gazing at myself in the mirror scrupulously studying
my reflection from the tip of my head to the tip of my toes. Dare I say
it without sounding immodest? I looked beautiful.
My wavy strawberry blond hair with tinted highlights accented the
delicate curves of my facial bone structure. The immaculate makeup oozed
my femininity. The white silk blouse clung to my small bosom as it
highlighted my slim waist where it was tucked into my black mini pencil
skirt. My legs were all the more shapely as I stood in my two inch high
black court shoes. My black nylon clad legs only served to exude a
vision of allurement.
As I studied my reflection in a somewhat narcissus manner mother
interrupted my thoughts. "You are now a perfect advertisement for our
new beauty salon, now take these flyers to the mall and hand them out.
Don't forget to wear your best smile as you do so."
"But mother I promised to go play football with my friends today." I was
still distracted by that vision of beauty in the mirror.
"No more football talk, we have a new business to promote. We are
specialising towards the teen beauty market and you are the perfect
example of what we can offer other teen girls.
I could not argue with mother as my reflection seduced me. Perhaps I
will meet some of the girls I know from school at the mall and have a
good time.
Who wants to kick a stupid bag of air around a park anyway?
Finis.
Oprah
- 26.03.2020
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I Lost My Wife In A Beauty Parlour 8211 Part 3
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I Lost My Wife In A Massage Parlour 8211 Part 5 Final
- 3 years ago
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