Lashes
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Lashes Chapter 4 free porn video
Chapter four
When I got home from school I heard Mom on the telephone. She was
laughing and her mood had changed from the night before. I walked into
the kitchen as she hung up the phone.
"Hi honey, oh my God, what happened to you?"
Oops, I had forgotten to clean my face before I saw my mother. I had
cut my lip from fighting with another school bully, this time, one from
the eighth grade.
"Umm, I kind of got in a fight."
"Why would you get in a fight? You know I don't like it when you do."
"A bully from the eighth grade pushed me down and called me a fag."
"Who is this boy? I'm going to call the school. I won't have my son
bullied."
"Mom, don't. I handled it. He won't bother me again."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I kicked his ass," I laughed.
"Don't you use those words young man and I don't want you fighting
anymore. It might ruin your looks."
"My looks?"
"Yes your looks. I called Cindy's mom and was going to give her a piece
of my mind and she explained what she was trying to tell you last
night. You could become a very wealth young man if we allow you to
become a model for Lush Cosmetics. She told me all about Cindy's
modeling assignments and how no one would ever know you were a boy. She
said the only time you would have to dress like a girl was when you
went on assignment for a job. All anyone would ever see would be your
face in the advertisements. She also told me that Lush had already
started negotiating with Hollywood Models for your services even though
you haven't even signed yet."
Mom was as excited as a cheerleader, bouncing around the kitchen,
waving her hands as she talked. I wondered if she had decided she
wanted her son to be that girl in the magazine ads?
"Mom, do you want me to sign a contract with those people?"
"It wouldn't hurt. I think your father, you, and I need to talk when he
gets home from work tonight."
"Yes Mom."
I went to my room and did my homework. I might be tough as nails, but I
wanted to get good grades and I didn't want to be a loser like Frank
the Bully. Dad arrived home and Mom called a conference after dinner.
"Lance, something has taken place with our son that could make the
difference between going to a community college or some place like
Stanford when he graduates from high school. He has the opportunity to
make a lot of money, and I think he should take it."
"What's a lot of money? How much can a boy his age make, several
thousand dollars? That won't get him into Stanford, but good grades
will earn him a scholarship."
"Honey, I'm not talking about a few thousand dollars. I'm talking about
millions."
Dad's mouth opened but nothing came out. I had to stifle a laugh
because he looked like a fish out of water. He was finally able to
speak.
"Millions, how in the world could that happen?"
"Now don't get mad and even I have a hard time believing what I'm going
to show you."
Mom took my photos and laid them down in front of Dad, one at a time
the way she had seen them, full makeup back to just me. The look on his
face was priceless. Now even he could see that his son never looked
like a boy even though I was one.
He looked at the photos side by side and then looked at me. There was a
sadness in his eyes.
"What happened to your lip?" he asked, noticing for the first time the
swollen little knot where I caught the fist that cut my lip.
"It's nothing, a bully got lucky and hit my lip. I kicked his ass
though," I remarked proudly.
Dad's sullen look brightened, realizing that his son might look like a
pretty girl, but he was still all, boy, and a tough one at that.
"Mark, I told you not to use that word."
"Oh come on Rachel, he's just a boy."
"A boy with a dirty mouth. I won't have that in my home and beside how
do you think it would look for the model representing Lush Cosmetics to
talk about kicking someone's ass?"
"You can't be serious?"
"Yes I am serious. What's the worse that could happen? Just because
Mark would wear some makeup doesn't mean he would turn into a girl. It
would just be a job, and he would be a boy whenever he wasn't modeling.
Think about it honey, no worries about college except where to go. It's
a no brainer."
"I don't like it, but it isn't up to me. It's Mark's decision to make.
He's the one that's going to be a girl to make that money. What do you
think, Sport?"
"I don't know, it was kind of fun when Mrs. Meyer put on the makeup and
it didn't hurt me, and I wouldn't mind making that much money."
"What about school? Where would these modeling sessions take place? If
he misses too much school his grades will suffer and all the money in
the world won't get him into Stanford, he still has to have good
grades."
"Gloria says that the agency will provide tutors if the sessions go for
more than a day and she says they're very good at what they do."
Mom turned toward me and asked, "What do you want to do? I think you
should do it, and your father apparently doesn't like the idea, so the
decision is yours."
I thought about what Mom was asking. I'm only twelve years old and
she's asking me to make an adult decision that will affect me for the
rest of my life. Should I do it? Why not? Well maybe because I couldn't
fight anymore, but its not like I live to kick someone's ass. The only
reason I fight is to protest myself, It was fun, and to be honest with
myself I liked looking pretty. I decided to do it.
"I think I'll do it, that way you won't have to worry about paying for
college," I said, bravely. I'm doing it for you guys, yeah, right.
After I made my decision ,Mom, called, Mrs. Meyer and let her know of
my decision. They talked for a while before Mom got off the phone. As
soon as she did the phone rang, it was Cindy.
"Oh God Mark, Mom just told me. I'm so excited. We're going to have so
much fun doing this together, and there's so much to do?"
"Like what?"
"You have to think of a girl's name to start with. You can't very well
be a girl model named, Mark James. We have to think of a girl's name
for you."
"Do you have any ideas?"
"No, but that should be something you do. A girls name is something she
will cherish for the rest of her life."
I thought for a while and remembered a girl's name I really liked.
"What about, Amanda, I really like it," I said.
"I do too. Amanda James. It's pretty."
"I don't think it should be James. I don't want people thinking Amanda
James, Mark James. No the last name has to be different."
I thought of different last names but didn't like any of them and then
something caught my eye. Mom had placed a vase full of flowers on the
mantel in the living room and I knew that was it.
"I've got it Cin, Amanda Flowers. I'm going to be Amanda Flowers."
"Amanda Flowers, that's so pretty, but you should have a middle name
too."
"I thought of the first and last, you choose."
"I like Christine. It's a very pretty name. Amanda Christine Flowers.
God girl, you're going to be so popular with a name like that, just
wait and see."
Little did I know what an impact that simple thing would have on me. I
had just created myself, well my girl self, but none the less the
impact was huge, especially for a twelve-year-old boy.
After I got off the phone with Cindy, I went to my room, lying on my
bed, I let random thoughts run through my head, mostly about being
Amanda. I was going to be Amanda Christine Flowers, a girl I didn't
even know. When this crazy modeling thing started, I thought Mrs.
Meyers was joking with me, not realizing she would get a job for me.
She did though, so I went along with it. Part of the job was to be
female, and after seeing my picture, I knew that wouldn't be a problem,
at least not on the outside. What about the inside? It was just a job;
wear some makeup take a few pictures and I'd be done. It was part of
life, something would occur and the result was being pretty on my part
but guided by someone else's effort. I know it's hard to explain so let
me do it this way. When I was born I was named Mark Edward James. I
like my name, but someone else gave it to me. As a result everything
I've done in life is a result of being named by my parents. Whether I
played ball, ate a sandwich or rough housed with my friends it was
because I was Mark Edward James. Things were expected of me like being
tough, hence tough as nails or behaving like a boy. Even after my
mother would apply mascara to my eyes, the expectation was to
participate in male oriented activities. The mascara was nothing more
than some black smudges on my eyes, like grease under a mechanic's
nails. It was what it was. Don't get me wrong; I love the person I've
become, a real honest to goodness boy, and one with a pretty face.
Choosing her name did something to me inside my body. Amanda Christine
Flowers was my creation, not Mom's and not Dad's, she was mine. It's
like my parents having a baby, they mate and create life. No one did it
for them, they created that baby themselves. I had just done the same
thing myself; created Amanda Christine Flowers and I loved her as much
as if she was my own child. She was a girl and a pretty one at that and
she was I. I wanted to embrace her with all my heart, but how? I was
Mark James, not Amanda Christine Flowers, or was I. I was Cindy's best
girlfriend, she said so, herself more than once, and I don't think I
loved anyone more than her except for my parents. Every moment with
Cindy was a special moment, ones shared by two people who loved each
other more than life itself. She picked Christine for my middle name
and knew she did because she loves me. I would always be Amanda
Christine, in her eyes for as long as I lived.
I'm Mark James, not a girl, so why do I yearn so to be Amanda Christine
Flowers so badly? It must be the name, my name, the one I created,
Amanda, not Mark the name someone else gave me but, Amanda, a name I
love because, Amanda, is me and I created her.
My face was wet from the tears I didn't know I was shedding. Why would
I be crying? I wasn't sad nor had anything happened to me to make my
cry and yet my pillow and face were soaked.
Not realizing how much time had passed during my thoughts and saw it
was after ten in the evening. I called good night to Mom and Dad and
went to sleep.
Nadine
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