A Cut Above The Rest free porn video

Author's Notes: Standard disclaimers apply. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is coincidental. Adult themes and situations, if any of these offend you or are illegal in your jurisdiction, do not read or download. Story may be shared on non-profit sites but otherwise may not be reproduced in full or in part. This is my first ever attempt at writing fiction, so is likely to be full of spelling, tense & gramatical errors but I hope not so much as to detract from your reading pleasure, wink wink. I have already started Chapter Five and conceptualizing further adventures, so praise and compliments to encourage me to continue will be much appreciated. I love hearing from like-minded people, especially any that happen to live in southeast Florida ;-) A Cut Above the Rest "Steven is downstairs, Alan, go on down," I heard my mother say. "Thanks, Miss Roxx," Alan replied as he came down the stairs. Other than it being the first day of summer vacation, it was a typical start of the day. Our next door neighbors, Alan and his mother Miss Kane came over pretty much every morning. Alan and I would goof off for a little while before heading to school while our moms had coffee and cigarettes before going to work. Mom and Miss Kane didn't actually work together. Mom owns a full service beauty salon named "A Cut Above" and Miss Kane owns a boutique next door named "The Rest". Over the separate entrances to their businesses, they had a hot pink neon signs that read "A Cut Above" & "The Rest". It was a nice little niche they have carved out for themselves. Their clientele seems to be almost entirely composed by the ladies working as hostesses, bartenders and dealers in the numerous casinos in town, along with other women than seem to enjoy indulging their feminine side. A Cut Above definitely isn't the salon that the town's blue-haired ladies come to. And hair styling and manicures only make up a small portion of her revenue. The real money makers were the cosmetics and perfumes she sold. The Rest caters to the same clientele. So the merchandise doesn't include conservative business attire and dowdy dresses. Instead, all the clothes, bikinis, lingerie, heels and jewelry are more suited for the casinos, nightclubs and "working girls". I wasn't really sure what they meant by that last part, but I had heard them mention the "working girls" from time to time. I guess that was just what they called the ladies that worked in the town's many adult entertainment businesses. They even have a door connecting their businesses without having to go outside. Out back there is a tropical patio and lounge area that is shared with a cocktail bar called "Strut Your Stuff" and another business simply named "Adult World". On several occasions, I had heard people refer to the bar as "Struts" or "Sluts". The owner, Miss Jacqueline, never seemed to mind either nickname for her business. Mom and Miss Kane frequently discussed what a great arrangement they had set up. My mom, Renee Roxx, would tell her customers that The Rest had a great outfit to accompany their new makeovers. Miss Kane' employees would tell her customers that their new outfits would really go great with a new hairstyle or new cosmetics from A Cut Above. And to really loosen up the purse strings or any inhibitions about going for a new style or risqu? outfit, libations from Strut Your Stuff did the trick. Struts also provided a place for their customers to strut their stuff and show off their new looks. The parade of sexy ladies strutting their stuff certainly didn't hurt Miss Jacqueline's business at all, either. It was always busy and the gentlemen customers were always wearing upscale clothes, mainly three piece suits during the lunch hour or after business hours rush. But, like I said, today isn't a typical day. It's the first day of summer vacation. Alan & I had just graduated from 10th grade and were looking forward to a summer hanging out, playing video games and lounging around our pool. Since we both had cool single mothers and we had a swimming pool and Alan's house had a billiards table, our homes were a popular neighborhood hangout. Three whole months of fun before starting 11th grade was the only thing on our minds, other than the prospect of finally getting our driver's licenses, that is!. Mom & Miss Kane had gently suggested that Alan & I might want to consider looking for jobs, especially if we wanted to get our own cars, but we hadn't really pursued that path just yet. Alan & I were in the middle of a game when I heard the sound of high heels crossing the floor upstairs. I saw mom's head peek around the corner before she said, "Boys, when you have a moment please come upstairs." We finished up our game and ran up the stairs. "What's up, Mom?" I asked as we came into the dining area adjoining the kitchen. As usual, the white marble floor tiles were gleaming. The granite counter tops were spotless and bare, except for the almost full coffee pot. The polished stainless steel appliance reflected a muted image of the room. In the center of the huge dining area sat a glass and chrome table with seats for 12 people, though they were only very rarely all used. Mom & Miss Kane were sitting at the table, which was bare, except for the coffee services, an ashtray, a pack of Mom's cigarettes and a lighter. They were both sitting at the table, elegantly holding their Virginia Slims 120s Menthols between their delicate fingers and long painted nails. The filters were accented with their lipstick, as were the rims of their coffee cups. Both were dressed to the nines. As they had said before, they considered themselves to be billboards for their services and merchandise. They were both made up and attired like two women about to go out on the town. Perfectly styled hair, glamorously made up faces, low cut blouses displaying plenty of cleavage, short skirts, legs crossed showing plenty of skin underneath their sheer stockings, their feet encased in open toe stiletto heels. The spotlessly clean glass table top allowed be to take in a clear view of them from head to toe. All of a sudden, I felt a little awkward. I felt a stirring in my crotch as I stared at Miss Kane's stunning image. She definitely noticed, too. A sly grin appeared on her face as her eyes strayed down towards my belt buckle. She gave me a little wink and looked over at my Mom, triggering me to look away from her glamorous face and look at my mother. Mom took a drag from her cigarette and exhaled a thin stream of smoke towards the ceiling. "Nothing's up, boys, but we need to have a little talk. You're both young men now. This is the first summer we're leaving you on your own unattended. You've both always been good sons but you have to understand, we're a bit nervous about leaving you on your own for the first time and need to lay out some ground rules. You understand that, don't you?" "Sure, Mom, I guess so but you don't need to worry," was all I could think to say. "But we do worry, that's what Moms are for," she said with a laugh as she and Miss Kane exchanged a glance. "It's not a big deal but we just want to make sure we're all on the same page. You guys just hang out and enjoy yourselves, but don't get into any trouble. Your friends are welcome to come over to play, but no drugs, no raiding the liquor cabinet and no sex. Agreed?" "Okay, Mom. Like I said, don't worry, we'll be good." Miss Kane turned to Alan and asked, "Agreed, Alan?" Alan sheepishly grinned, looked down at the floor. "Yes, Mom." "Great" Miss Kane said. "Now that the ground rules are set, we're off to work. You boys have a great day! Give us a kiss and get back to your video game." Alan and I got up and kissed our Moms before we headed back downstairs. I noticed that Alan's Mom had left a little lip gloss on his lips from the goodbye kiss, but I didn't bother to say anything about it. I heard the front door close and then the car starting up and driving off. I turned to Alan and asked, "What was that all about?" "Oh, they're just being silly. It's not like we've ever done drugs, we've never raided the liquor cabinet and it's not like any of the girls we know are interested in sex." Although I was embarrassed to admit it, since Alan is my best friend, I confided, "It's not like I'd know what to do anyways. But when I saw your Mom this morning, I was getting turned on." At that, he half-heartedly punched my shoulder and said, "Hey, watch it, that's my Mom you're talking about, Steve". After a few more minutes playing the game he continued, "You know I was just teasing you, right? Truth be told, every time I see your Mom I get a full blown hard-on and I've caught her looking at it. So, no worries, we're even." After the game was over, Alan asked if I had ever been to a web site named PornHub. I hadn't and said as much. His response was, "Oh boy. You're in for a treat. Follow me." We walked up to the main level of the house. As we passed the dining room table, he grabbed a pack of my Mom's cigarettes, the ashtray and a lighter. That really didn't shock me since we had snuck some from her before. He continued to the upper level and went to my bedroom and sat down at my desk in front of the computer. As he instructed, I went and got a chair for myself and sat down to his left. We each lit up on of the Virginia Slims 120s. When I pulled the cigarette from between my lips, I noticed a bit of my Mom's lip gloss on the filter. As I had seen my mother do all the time, I held the cigarette in my left hand, pointing straight out, slightly above shoulder level. He proceeded to go to the web site. After lying about his age to get past the opening screen, he typed "hand job" into the search box. He scrolled down the screen a bit and clicked on a link called "Charlee - Smoking - Smoking Hand job" and clicked the "Play" icon before taking a drag from his cigarette and, in a mirror image to me, held his cigarette in his right hand. The video showed a man sitting back, his penis was standing straight out. A pretty blonde woman was kneeling between his legs. She poured some lotion in her hand and started stroking his penis. After lighting up a cigarette, she resumed stroking his penis and asked "You enjoy watching your little cock stroking smoker, don't you?" Without thinking, I moaned "Hmmm hmmm" and took another drag from my cigarette. I couldn't resist and started rubbing my crotch. Emboldened and not to be outdone, Alan stood up, stepped out of his shorts and underwear and sat back down. His cock was fully erect and standing at attention. It must have been 8 inches long. He sat back down and started stroking it with his left hand. We continued watching the video. After a couple of minutes, Alan said, "Wow, this is really awkward using my left hand. How about giving a friend a hand, buddy?" I couldn't believe what he was suggesting and, playing dumb, asked what the hell he was talking about. He gently grabbed my right hand and pulled it to his crotch. Without even thinking, I reflexively wrapped my hand around it like the woman in the video and started stroking it. It was bizarre! Although it was hard, it also felt soft to the touch. And warm, too. After a few strokes, a clear drop of fluid appeared from the slit from his cock and ran down the side. Oddly, it felt both sticky and slippery and felt great as I continued to stroke him while watching the video. My reverie was interrupted when I heard my mom say, "My, my, what do we have here?" Oh crap! I turned to the left and through the smoke drifting up from my cigarette saw my mom standing in the doorway with a glazed expression on her face. I shrieked, "Mom, what are you doing here!?" Her reply was simply, "Well, if you must know, I came back home to get my cell phone. And haven't I told you before that it's not polite to answer a question with a question? But I guess it was a silly question. It's pretty obvious what you were doing. You were smoking my cigarettes, watching porn and giving Alan a hand-job. Does that pretty much sum it up?" I really couldn't think of a response since that did pretty much sum things up. Since I was obviously in no position to deny anything, I remained silent. Geez, my hand was still wrapped around Alan's penis, though it wasn't as hard anymore. She filled the awkward silence by calmly saying "Alan, I think you should put your shorts on and go home. He practically jumped out of the chair, pulled his underwear and shorts back up. It looked like all the blood had rushed up to his face, as he was blushing a bright shade of pink. Ever the gentleman, he simply said, "Bye, Steven. Bye, Miss Roxx. I'm sorry if I upset you." as he headed out the door. Mom quietly said, "Young man, we need to talk." She took one of her cigarettes out of the pack, lit it up and sat down on the end of my bed. I swiveled around to face her. As she sat there for a moment smoking, I admired how beautiful she is. I had never really thought of her in that way, but she was 10 times better looking than the woman in the video. She was looking at me but seemed distracted. After a moment, she started breathing shallowly and said in her feminine yet dusky voice "Steven, do me a favor and turn the monitor off, I'm having difficulty concentrating" I quickly got up and turned around. On the screen was a pretty brunette woman, also smoking, also stroking a cock. Before turning the monitor off, I quickly made a mental note of the name "Smoking Mature." No matter how much trouble I was in, I knew I'd want to watch it at my first chance. I turned the monitor off and turned back around. Mom's face was practically even with my crotch and, to my dismay, my raging hard-on had returned with a vengeance. "Damn" I thought to myself "this thing has a mind of its own." It was impossible that Mom didn't notice it tenting my shorts but she said nothing about it when she resumed speaking. "Steven, what rules did we discuss this morning?" "No drugs. No raiding the liquor cabinet. No sex." She softly chuckled to herself and said to herself, "Wow, I was gone less than half an hour and he broke 2 out of 3 rules. At least he wasn't drinking. It must be some kind of record. What do you have to say about that, Steven?" "But Mom," I stammered. "We weren't doing drugs or having sex. What are you talking about?" She rolled her eyes and replied "Steven, nicotine is a drug. So, yes, you were doing drugs. And you were giving Steven a hand job. That counts as sex. And to top it off, you stole some of my cigarettes and were watching pornography. At least you weren't drinking so I guess I should give you some credit. We didn't talk about stealing this morning, but we have before. You know very well it's wrong. We've never discussed porn before but I guess it looks like I waited too long." You've got to love my Mom's sense of irony and humor: a cute little smile actually appeared on her glamorous face at that remark. She took another deep draw from her cigarette. I couldn't help but think back to the video and remember how sexy it looked as the woman was smoking and stroking the man's cock. I had never thought of my mother, or any woman, in that way but a vision of my Mother doing the same thing popped into my mind. It didn't help that her ample breasts were practically spilling out from her low cut blouse. "I suppose it's a bit hypocritical for me to give you a hard time about smoking, since I smoke. It's not like you were in any danger of getting a girl pregnant. And it's completely natural for young men to have urges and explore their sexuality. I remember when I," and abruptly stopped speaking for a moment. "But you broke the rules and must be punished. I'm obviously not going to leave you alone today so come on, let's go. I need to get back to work." Chapter II - The Works I dutifully followed Mom outside and climbed into the passenger seat of her cute little red Miata MX-5. After starting it up, she pulled one of her Virginia Slims 120's out of the pack. She placed it between her lips, lit it up and took a drag. She took it from between her lips with her left hand and held it near the window. She reached to the console between us, lowered her window a bit and exhaled towards the crack. Looking over, I admired how perfectly the lipstick on the filter matched the color of her long tapered nails. She backed out of the driveway and off we went. We stopped at a red light as a stream of pedestrians crossed the road. I found myself wondering which of the women and girls enjoyed giving hand jobs like the woman in the videos seemed to. Then I noticed the men checking my mother out and got a bit perturbed realizing that they may have been wondering the same types of things about my Mom. I felt a bit glum realizing that none of the girls were checking me out and started to realize the power that women have. "This is just great," I sarcastically thought to myself. The morning started out great, now I was upset and embarrassed about being caught and punished. Men were checking my Mom out and I might as well have been invisible. Mom noticed the dour expression on my face. Mom reached over, patted my leg and said, "Don't worry honey. Although you broke the rules and need to be punished, I won't be too hard on you. Would you like a cigarette to help you relax?" What? I couldn't believe it. She's offering me one of her cigarettes when taking one was one of the reasons I was in trouble? Even though I suspected it might be some sort of trap, I nervously replied with "Yes, please." She took the pack out of her purse, flipped open the lid and used her nails to extract another from her pack before handing it to me. She pulled the lighter out and handed it to me. Just as she had done, I placed it between my lips, lit it up while rolling my window down a bit. I took it from between my lips, bent my elbow to hold it up to the crack before exhaling. Turning my face back forward, I saw that both men and women were watching me, though their expressions seemed to be a bit surprised bordering on shock. Besides my age, it was definitely a woman's cigarette I was smoking. To rub it in, I smiled and took another drag. It was too funny - one guy was so taken aback he bumped into another fellow. Mom also seemed a bit surprised and let out a little laugh. We rode on in silence enjoying our cigarettes before finally pulling into a spot right in front of A Cut Above. She shut the car off, opened the door and swiveled to her left and placed both of her stilettoed feet on the pavement before standing up. "Quit dawdling, honey, let's go." Then took one last pull from her cigarette and crushing it under the toe of her high heels. Instead of putting one leg out, standing up and pulling my other leg out, I emulated her graceful exit. Before we went into the salon, she turned to me, giving me another instruction. "We're all on a first name basis in the salon. So when we're here, you're to address me as 'Miss Renee'. Got it?" "Sure, Mom," I answered. In a stern voice, she exclaimed, "Excuse me? You certainly seem to have a problem following instructions today." Realizing my faux pas, I quickly corrected myself. "Yes, I understand, Miss Renee." Chapter II - The Works I followed mom into the salon where she greeted everyone with a cheerful "Hi girls, I'm back." I took a moment to survey the salon. I had never noticed, but the entire salon had the same marble floors as our kitchen and dining room. We were in a small waiting area for customers to relax in before their appointments. Off to the side, in front of the floor to ceiling windows were three manicure stations. The walls were arrayed with an unimaginable collection of hair care products, cosmetics, nail polishes and perfumes. In the center, a semi-circular receptionist's desk sat. My eyes followed the curves of the desk further pack into the salon. The walls, what you could see of them, were a pretty pastel pink. Eight stations for makeovers, four on each side, lined the walls. Behind them were eight stalls where staff could cut and style customers' hair. Further back there were shampooing stations. The central area of the ceiling had recessed canister lights illuminating the room. Above each of the workstations, two spot lights shone from the ceiling, angled towards the customer chairs. The makeover and hair styling stations each had tall mirrors, above which were strands of small hot pink L.E.D. lights. Above those was even more lighting - 5 medium size globe light bulbs each. The overall effect of the salon was mesmerizing and screamed femininity. The pretty young girl at the front desk inquired "And who is this you have with you, Miss Renee?" "Suzanne, this is my son Steven. Steven, please meet Suzanne." Wanting to make a good impression on Mom and Suzanne, I politely said, "Hello, Miss Suzanne. I'm pleased to meet you." Suzanne beamed me a huge smile and said, "Oh, how adorable. It's so refreshing to meet a young man that is so well-mannered. Most of the boys I know are so less refined. Are you here to get a haircut, dear?" I certainly hoped not. I was so proud of my hair. The parents of most boys I knew made them keep their hair cut short. Alan and I were the envy of them for having mothers that let us grow our hair long. I hadn't had a haircut for ages. It was all the same length and I usually just kept it pulled back intot in a ponytail that fell halfway down my back. Before I could answer, Mom cut me off. "No, When I went home to get my cell phone, I caught Steven and his friend Alan getting into all sorts of mischief. On the first day of summer vacation, no less. After just having laid out some simple ground rules, I caught them breaking two of them and doing two more that I didn't think of." Suzanne laughed and came back with, "Well, I guess boys will be boys!" "Suzanne, be a dear and see if Gillian can join us for a moment." 'Gillian' was Miss Kane's first name, so I assumed that's who mom was talking about. "Certainly, Miss Renee," Suzanne replied as she stood up to go to The Rest. While we were standing there, another young woman came up. I practically swooned as I gazed up the vision approached, her hips swaying as her open-toed sandals with 4" heels clacked across the marble floor. "Steven, please meet Heather, our salon coordinator. Heather, this is my son Steven." Heather extended her arm and held her hand out to me, the palm facing down, her slender fingers and long nails catching my eye. As I had seen a debonair character in a movie do, I gently cradled her palm in mine, bent at the waist and gave it small kiss. This seemed to elicit a surprise from Heather, who said in a breathy slightly husky voice, "Pleased to meet you, Steven. You do realize that when a gentleman actually kisses a lady's hand like that it means that he plans on seducing her, don't you? Are you planning on seducing me, Steven?" I felt my cheeks blush and could only think to say, "Uh, no, I'm sorry, Miss Heather. But you're so elegant and so graceful, it seemed the proper thing to do, like I've seen in movies." "What a pity," Heather tittered. "That's not very nice, raising a girl's hopes like that and then dashing them so." Fortunately (or so I thought), I was rescued from this awkward moment when Heather and Miss Kane stepped up to the desk. "What's up, Renee? Why is Steven here? Not that it's not always a pleasure to see you, Steven" she said with another sly wink With the five of us standing at the receptionist's desk, Mom answered her. "Gillian, you're never going to guess what I found when I went home to get my cell phone." "What did you find, Renee?" "I found Alan and Steven watching pornography on the Internet, each of them smoking a Virginia Slims 120 and Steven giving stroking Alan's cock!" I was flabbergasted. I couldn't believe that my Mother would be so brazen and embarrass me so in front of Miss Kane, Suzanne and Heather. "So within one hour, they were both breaking the rules we laid out. I thought I had better bring Steven in with me to keep him out of trouble while I contemplated a suitable punishment." Suzanne giggled and said, "Maybe I should have said 'Girls will be girls'. Virginia Slims are ladies' cigarettes. Not that giving a hand job is very ladylike. Maybe you should give him the works" with a somewhat sarcastic emphasis on the "him" part. Mom and Miss Kane looked at each other before Mom pronounced "Yes, maybe 'the works' would be the proper punishment. What do you think, Gillian, should we give Steven the works?" I had no idea what they were talking about. "Yes, I think we should, Renee. Let the punishment fit the crime, I always say. The works!" At that point, Suzanne and Heather started chanting "The works. The works." Several other ladies, customers and employees alike, overheard them and before I knew it the entire salon was filled with "The works! The works! The works!" I didn't like the sound of their gleeful enthusiasm. Mom turned to Heather and said, "Okay, Heather, I leave Steven in your capable hands. Spare no effort or expense, we'll have him with us all day." "Maybe we will and maybe we won't, Miss Renee" Heather replied with a sly grin and a wink. "Come with me, Steven." Heather held out her hand. She didn't drop her arm so I inferred she wanted to hold my hand. As she wrapped her hand around mine, she stated "We're going to have sooo much fun, Steven. You're going to love this, I promise you." "What's going on, Heather? I asked as we walked into the salon area. "Don't worry your pretty little head, dear. Like I said, we're going to have a lot of fun today. By the time we're done, it might be me trying to seduce you." At that remark, I literally tripped over my own feet. She tightened her grip on my hand and, as I spun around heading towards the floor, she quickly wrapped her other arm around my waist, saving me from crashing to the floor. Rather than pulling me up, she held me like that for a moment and leaned in as if she were going to kiss me full on the lips. At the last moment, she moved her head aside and gave me a little kiss on the cheek. I practically passed out when she moved her head even lower, licked the inside of my ear and gently nibbled my earlobe. She whispered, "Don't worry, baby, Heather doesn't bite - unless you ask her to." She pulled me upright, let go of my hand but kept her arm wrapped around my waist. It felt awkward, my arms hanging at my side, so I wrapped one around her waist and rested my hand on her hip. We continued into the salon, strolling arm in arm past the merchandise and the hair styling stations. I still didn't know what I was in for but with her rescue and flirtation, my nervousness was turning into excitement and I knew I'd do anything for Heather. As a matter of fact, I even told her, "Thanks, Heather. I'd do anything for you." "You are a brave one, making a promise like that. But a promise is a promise and Heather doesn't forget a promise" referring to herself in the third person as she squeezed my waist even tighter. "You're in for the scalp massage of your life. Sit right here in with your back to this sink. Watch your head, darling. Don't worry, I'll take it slow. You do like it slow, don't you?" At that she reached for a lever on the side of the chair. She started lowering her face to mine, with her eyes almost closed, her lips puckered. Just as our lips were about to touch, the chair started tilting back until I was practically laying down, my head resting back over the sink. When I came to a stop, her beautiful face kept approaching, until her lips met mine. She kissed me for a good five seconds and I could feel the just the tip of her tongue pushing against my lips. She broke the kiss and whispered, "Still promise to do anything I want, darling?" I gasped a breath of air and sighed. "Yes, Heather, I promise. I promise I'll do anything you ever want me to." And I meant it with all my heart. I'd do anything to stay in the presence of this captivating young lady. She looked back over her shoulder and saw my erection tenting my shorts. She licked her lips and said, "Mmmmmmm, it looks like you have a lot to offer a girl, baby. But we must get to work." Heather turned her head around over her shoulder and simply said, "Number 1, please." She turned on the water for the sink and took a moment to adjust the temperature. She pulled a shower nozzle that was attached to a gleaming metallic hoss from the side of the sink and rinsed my hair. She stopped for a moment and made an adjustment to the nozzle. She resumed rinsing my hair but now the stream slowly changed from a gentle spray to a pulsating sensation over and over. She ran her fingers through my hair as she rotated the nozzle in a circular pattern. It felt great. Shutting the water off, reached for a bottle of shampoo. Holding the bottle over my head, she said with a tone of warning in her voice, "Here it comes, baby." Rather than gently squeezing the bottle, she repeatedly grasped it in her fist and I felt blobs of shampoo spurt in various places on my scalp. When she seemed satisfied that there was enough, she leaned over to put the bottle back on the counter. Her luscious breasts were hanging right over my face and I could see her nipples pressing against the thin fabric of her low cut blouse. I was then subjected to the most wonderful experience. Her hands gently kneaded my hair and massaged my scalp. Instinctively, I attempted raising my head towards her breasts several times but each time she gently pushed my head back down. Occasionally, she would gently pinch my neck between the pads of her thumb and fingers and would always following that by drawing the tip of a single fingernail up the back and sides of my head. From time to time, she would finish the strokes by tickling the backs and insides of my ear with her fingernails. The glorious massage eventually stopped as she pinched both of my earlobes and pulled on them. Leaning her face right over mine, she asked "Did that feel good, baby? Does this feel good, baby?" as she pulled even harder on my earlobes, hard enough to pull my face even closer to hers. I could only moan a contented sigh. She went on. "I just love having my earlobes pulled. That's why I wear such long dangly earrings. I just love feeling them sway, pulling my earlobes where they will." At that, she started gently swaying her head from side to side so her earrings repeated brushed against or slapped my cheeks. Heather was driving me crazy. My erection was throbbing and I could barely restrain myself rubbing myself Eventually, Heather stopped lashing me with her earrings and pulling on my earlobes. She pulled the lever on the side of the chair forward and my face rose to meet hers. Once again, our lips met. This time, she kissed me even longer and used her tongue to pry my lips apart and caress their backsides and tickle my gums. "Time for the conditioner, honey. This is a deep conditioner, number 1, we'll need to make sure we get every strand of your hair and leave it in for a while." She draped a plastic cape over my shoulders and pinned my hair up. She explained that this was so she could condition every strand by working from the base of my neck and work her way up Leaning forward to reach something on the shelf, her breasts rested right on my face. When she straightened back up, I saw that she had put a pair of thin plastic gloves on her hands. She placed a small plastic tub with a yellow cream in it on the workbench beside the chair. She proceeded to pull a 1" wide strand of my hair and used what looked like a paint brush. As she worked, we chit-chatted about this and that. She asked me when my birthday was and I told her that it was next month, in early July. My heart went pitter patter when she asked if we might celebrate it together. Of course I said there was nothing that could make my birthday more special. At that, she pinched my cheek and exclaimed "Oh my, you are such a sweetheart. It's a date, then. I couldn't believe it. My first date was set. And it was with a drop- dead gorgeous girl at least three years older than me. None of my friends would believe it. But I didn't care, because I knew it was true. Heather then started to inquire about what women appealed to me most. By this time, I was totally infatuated and just said, "You, Heather." "Flatterer," she giggled. "That WILL get you everywhere, but that's not what I meant. Close your eyes and describe your dream girl to me." I closed my eyes and a picture of Heather appeared in my mind's eye. I went on to explain what type of girl I liked - basically describing her. "I adore girls who adore being feminine. Girls that enjoy wearing makeup and pretty jewelry. Girls that keep their nails long and painted. Girls that enjoy wearing short skirts, low-cut blouses and shoes with high, narrow heels. Girls that are sweet but with a naughty streak." I confided that there was something about a glamorous woman elegantly smoking a long slender cigarette that I found especially alluring. She interrupted my reverie when she announced "All done!" She explained "Now, we need to let the conditioner soak in for 40 minutes and put all your hair in a cap so the conditioner doesn't dry out. Sorry, but since 'A Cut Above' is a lady's salon, all we have are these pink caps. I hope you don't mind." "Don't worry about it, Heather, I don't mind." At that, Heather graced me with another one of her beautiful smiles and said, "That's so cool, Steven. So many guys are so uptight. I can't stand it. I love a guy that isn't uptight, it's such a turn-on for me. I think we might become very close friends." My pulse quickened just hearing the word 'love' as she spoke about me. She tucked all of my hair into a bright pink cap before setting a timer for 40 minutes. "I need to do some errands around the shop, you just sit back and relax, sweetheart." As instructed, I leaned back, closed my eyes and thought about Heather. At some point, I must have dozed off. I was awakened when I felt an edge of the cap being pulled away from my head. As my eyes opened, Heather's face filled my vision. I blinked my eyes a few times to make sure I was awake and all of this hadn't been a dream. She said, "It's coming along great, only 15 more minutes. I'm going to step out back and have a cigarette. Would you care to join me?" Of course I said, "Yes." I followed Heather like a puppy dog follows its mother. I didn't care, I'd follow her anywhere. I was totally smitten. She led me into a room whose door said 'Employees Only." The door closed behind us. When she stopped, I almost ran into her. Heather turned around. She put a hand on the back, pulled my face to hers and gave me another long kiss. She broke away, grabbed her purse and said, "We'd better get out of here before things get out-of-hand." She paused, reached into her purse, pulled out a tube of lipstick and applied a fresh coat. "Isn't this color to die for, Steven? Do you like it? It's 'Pink Tart' from Ben Nye. And the name sums up the kind of girl I like to be." She placed the lipstick back in her purse. When her hand came back out, she had a tube of pink lip gloss. She grasped the top between two fingers, unscrewed the top extracted the wand from the tube. She handed me the wand and said, "Be a dear and put this on me" as she leaned forward and parted and puckered her lips. My hand was shaking, but I managed to gently brush the wand back and forth across her lips. She pursed her lips a few times to ensure I had applied it evenly. She continued "I simply adore this gloss, it's so shiny. I just love how glossy it is. How do I look? Kissable?" I gazed into her eyes, nodded my head. "You look very kissable, Heather." "Thank you, darling," she replied. "You're a delightful kisser, you know. I'm sure you've been told that many times." I stared at my feet and stammered, "You're the first girl I've ever really kissed, Heather." I felt her hand and nails lift my chin. "Wow, you're a 'natural' then. You can tell so much about a person by the way they kiss. From our first kisses, I could tell that you're tender and passionate, if a bit shy and unsure of yourself. But I could tell that it was an expression of how you felt about me. That's a very special thing to a girl. With some guys, you can tell it's all about them, like they have something to prove, like they're trying to take control of you. "Thank you for giving me your first kiss, Steven," she went on. "You kiss so much nicer. It's more like kissing a girl, which I actually prefer." "What do you mean, Heather?" I asked in a slightly shocked voice. "Oh my, I'm sorry if I shocked you. You're so young and innocent. But, like it or not, I'm basically a lesbian, a girl that is sexually attracted to other girls. You have heard of lesbians before, haven't you?" "Well, sure. I've heard girls calling other girls 'lezzies" before. Usually a prettier girl calling one of the tomboys that, and you can definitely tell they mean it as an insult." "Yes, you're right, at least with a lot of them" she agreed. Let's step out back and I'll elaborate. But first, give me another kiss." She wrapped her arms around my back, pulled me into her embrace and dug her nails into my back. Instinctively, my arms wrapped around under her shoulders and behind her neck. I wasn't pulling her to me, just holding her in place. I found myself wishing my nails were long enough so they could gently scrape and tickle her behind her ears. It was only when she attempted to pull away that I moaned a long 'noooooo, don't go' and pulled her back. She attacked my lips with renewed vigor. Only this time, she parted her lips wide, kind of like she was yielding herself to me. My lips mimicked hers and were wide open. My tongue went into her mouth. But instead of just sticking it in there, I kept darting it in and out, gently tapping on the point of her tongue. Once in a will I would slowly lick the underside of her tongue and pull my tongue back, as if to invite it and coax it into my mouth. Alas, she didn't accept the invitation. Before I could react, she twisted out of my embrace, grabbed my hand, pulled me towards the door and exclaimed, "C'mon, let's go out back so I can have a cigarette. She led me by the hand back through the salon area. One of the customers scornfully said, "My, my, how adorable, it looks like Heather has a new pet." Rather than feel ashamed, as I believe was her intent, I felt proud. As Heather continued to lead me away, I but on wicked smile, turned my chin back over my shoulder to look right at the woman. Then I raised my chin high and turned forward. It just felt like the thing to do to let her know I didn't care what she thought, as long as I was Heather's. At that, I heard the woman say, in a much more positive sounding tone of voice, "That's right, girl, go get it." She must have been talking to Heather, but a little voice in my head told me that she was speaking to me. No matter, either way worked for me." We emerged out into a patio. A 5' high stone fountain quietly gurgled clear water into a pool surrounding the fountain in the center of the patio. The sound of the water trickling down was very soothing. Lush tropical plants were spaced around the area, creating semi-private seating areas with chairs and small love seats with plush purple cushions. Heather sat down in one of the love seats and patted the spot next to her, indicating that I should sit right next to her. She reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of Virginia Slims 120s Menthol, the same brand my mother and Miss Kane smoke. She pivoted the lid back and delicately extracted one of the cigarettes using her long, tapered nails. She placed the pack onto the small table in front of us. Then she handed me a lighter from her purse and commanded, "Give me a light, darling." She brought the cigarette to her lips, daintily holding her cigarette between her index and middle fingers. My hand shaking, I pressed the button on the lighter and brought it to the tip of her cigarette. She leaned forward, rested her free hand on my thigh and inhaled deeply. She drew the cigarette from between her lips, turned her head up and away from me and slowly blew out a thin stream of smoke So as not to stare too much, I turned my face and looked at her pack of cigarettes on the table. Turning to see where I was looking, Heather said, "Oh, where are my manners? Would you like a cigarette, Steven?" Without waiting for an answer, she removed her hand from my thigh. As she brought the pack up, she used her thumb nail to flip open the lid. I reached out to take on of the cigarette pack held in her hand. I felt kind of clumsy because I had a little trouble getting the pads of my fingers around the filter. Finally, I managed to extract a cigarette from the pack and brought it to my lips, extended from between my index and fore fingers as Heather had. I started to raise the lighter but Heather grabbed it from my hand and said, "Please, allow me." Just as she had done, I rested my free hand on her thigh, leaned in and, inhaling, drew the flame to the tip of my cigarette. After taking a long pull, I pulled the cigarette out, turned to the side and let out the smoke. Glancing at the filter, I saw it coated with pink lipstick. Thinking back, I realized that as we kissed, Heather's Pink Tart lipstick and shiny lip gloss had transferred to my lips. Noticing that I noticed, Heather commented, "That's the only problem with lipstick, it gets on everything. But I kind of like that. It reminds me that I'm wearing it and makes me feel so feminine. You're going to have to get used to it if you want to kiss me, Steven." "I don't mind, Heather. It reminds me of our kissing. It feels kind of like a merit award. If anyone notices, they'll know that of all the people you could choose to kiss, you chose to kiss me. So, no, I don't mind." "You're so sweet, Steven, and so right." When I see my lipstick on you, it's like I've claimed you as mine. It kind of sends a message to all the other girls - stay away, bitches, he's mine. Some guys are uptight about getting their girl's lipstick on them. I kind of figure that they're either insecure about their masculinity or don't want other women to know that they're spoken for. Men can be such dogs." Heather took another drag from her cigarette. "I guess that's part of why I prefer other beautiful girls. "I know other beautiful girls appreciate beauty. They make an effort to be beautiful, to express their femininity. Those tomboys you mentioned may or may not be lesbians but, if they are, they're not my type. They're too butch, it's more like they want to be masculine. I'm a lipstick lesbian. I love being feminine and I love being with other feminine girls." "Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with the butch ones. To each their own is my philosophy. 'You do what you want to do and let me do what I want to do' is my motto. If it feels good, do it. Don't you agree?" I took another drag from my cigarette as I contemplated her remarks. As I exhaled the smoke, I realized that she was so right. Do what you want to do, let others do what they want to do and ignore anyone that tries to tell you what you should and shouldn't do. I gazed into her eyes and said, "Heather, you're as wise as you are beautiful. If I were a girl, I think I'd be a lipstick lesbian just like you. If anyone doesn't like what you are, that's their problem, not yours. And I certainly have no problem with it." She returned my gaze as she took a final drag from her cigarette and crushed it out in the ashtray. As I took a last drag and crushed mine out besides hers, she freshened her lipstick again. She leaned in to give me another kiss and murmured "Time to mark my territory." Leaning back, she exclaimed "Much better, now everyone will know we've been kissing and that you're mine." As Heather led me by my hand back to the sink, that woman looked me directly in the eye and said, "That's a very nice shade, dear, it really suits you." Seeing as how she said it with a kind tone of voice and to show I was proud how Heather marked me, I came back with "Thank you very much, ma'am. Your new hairstyle looks very nice as well." She raised her palm and pushed some of her new cascading curls up a bit and stated, "I hate to be immodest, but I do love it too. Thank you very much for admiring it, dear." Needing no instruction this time, I sat down in the chair and leaned my head forward a bit. Heather pushed the lever and, once again, my head was lowered over the sink. She took the cap off my head and tossed it in the trash can before saying "I think this is going to come out very nice." She proceeded to rinse the conditioner from my hair, in a much more businesslike manner this time. She pulled the lever and wrapped my hair into a towel, using it to create a turban that covered it all to absorb the water. Taking my hand, she led me to a hairstyling station. From behind, she lowered her head so it was right beside mine, as I could see in the mirror's reflection. She whispered into my ear. "I hope you've enjoyed our time together so far. I know I have. Did you really mean it when you promised you'd do anything for me?" She watched me nod my head in the mirror. "Would you like to be my lover, maybe?" Once again, I nodded my head. "And if it turned out I told you a little fib, you wouldn't be mad at me?" This time, I shook my head from side to side. "That's wonderful," she exclaimed. "Because I did tell you a fib. You know that conditioner I used?" Once again, I nodded. "Well, it was more than conditioner." At that, she pulled the towel from my head and my long PLATINUM BLONDE hair spilled out over my shoulders. My hair was no longer a dull brown color. It was a shimmering pale blonde, just like Heather's. She seemed to be admiring the results and said, "I love this shade. I'm a real sucker for blondes. Don't you love it?" I meekly nodded my head and said, "It's a very nice color and, even if I didn't like it, knowing that you do, well, that would make it all right." "Now, let's see what I can do with this boring mess," she stated as she reached to close the curtains and cover the mirror. "When we're giving someone an entirely new style, we cover the mirror so they can't see what we're doing. When we're done, we pull the curtains aside for a grand unveiling." Heather draped a smock over me and proceeded to work on my hair. I couldn't really see what she was doing, of course, but could get a general idea. She had started by pinning the hair from the back of my head. I felt her use the pulling and combing a narrow strand out. She'd run the comb through the strand until it almost reached the end and then I'd hear her scissors making several cuts. I could tell when she pulled the first strand that she was starting at the base of my neck. On each subsequent strand, she seemed to be comparing it to the length of the previous strand before starting to cut. After she finished one run all the way up the back of my head, she started working forward on my right hand side. It seemed she'd stop right near the edge of the top of my head but she kept on going across the top. As she worked, she explained what was going on. "As you know, you're getting 'the works'." What that is is a total make-over, from head to toe. Obviously, this starts with a brand new hairstyle. Then we're going to do something with those bushy eyebrows of yours. Of course, I am going to pierce your ears. After that, it's on to the manicure station. And, by manicure, I of course mean extensions. Your fingernails are going to be as long as mine. For your toenails, it will be a classic French pedicure. The main part of your nails will be painted a nice beige color with just a hint of pink. The tips of the nails will be the whitest of whites. The pi?ce de r?sistance will be doing your face." After that, it's on to next door at 'The Rest' to start working on a new wardrobe for you." I suppose I should have been freaked out. But Heather's total effect on me was, well, hypnotizing. I knew I was going to look absurd. But, with Heather's beauty, her touches and, most of all, her kisses, I was putty in her hands. "When I got you assigned to me, I thought this would be just another job for me. I figured it would be just like giving any mousy little brat her first makeover. With one minor twist - the mousy little brat was actually a boy. A boy was being punished for disobeying his Mother, my friend, the best boss I've ever had and, from time to time, my lover." "That's right: my lover. For quite a while we were quite an item, going at it on an almost daily basis. Now we just hook up every once in a while so we can fill each other in on our adventures. It's such a turn- on. We tell each other all the naughty encounters we've had and let me tell you one thing, your mother is one of the most adventurous friends I've had the pleasure to know." "I was actually looking forward to punishing you for disobeying Miss Renee. But then I thought about what you were being punished for. It really wasn't that bad. Sure, you disobeyed her instructions but, let's face it, they were kind of unreasonable. How fair is it to tell a young man not to experiment with the pleasures of life? If she had talked to me about it, I pretty much would have stood up for you. As Suzanne said 'Boys will be boys' or 'Girls will be girls'. In your case, it's more like 'Boys will be girls'." When I heard the decision to give you 'the works," I started thinking. Any young man who is open-minded enough to smoke a Virginia Slims 120 while watching porn and giving his friend a hand job has a lot of potential. Then you promised me that you'd do anything I say and that our kiss was your first. That really got me thinking. Not only are you open-minded and adventurous, you haven't developed any bad habits, at least not in regards to making love and treating women." I really made my mind up during our cigarette break. Don't think I didn't notice that when you saw your lipstick on the filter of your cigarette that your erection spring up. I knew right then that I'm going to turn you into my ideal lipstick lesbian lover. And you know what the best part is? It's that only one part of you won't be totally feminized - that nice cock of yours. And I can tell you have a nice one even though I haven't seen it - yet. I can tell that it's long, thick, has a nice head and can stay hard for ages. You've had an erection for the past two hours." "You see, even though I consider myself a lipstick lesbian, I do love cock. Its masculinity I don't like. Men are so drab and boring in comparison to a beautiful woman, don't you think? And most of them are inconsiderate louses. There's a few that I see from time to time, but they're the exceptional ones. Ones who worship my feminine beauty, refined gentleman types with lots of money. They truly understand what an honor it is to be with me and lavish me with expensive feminine gifts." And here's the really kinky part. As I said, I tell Renee about whatever I do and that means I'm going to tell her everything we do together. It's going to drive her so wild and make her so horny. She'll tell me everything she does to and with you and that's going to drive me wild, too. Of course, you're going to be eager to tell me about everything you do. Who knows, maybe some of your adventures will include me and Renee. So I'm going to get to experience every step of your development from four perspectives - mine, hers, ours and yours." "This actually may solve a big problem Miss Renee has been dealing with. For years now, she has been trying to be the perfect little mommy for you. She has been so worried about you discovering just how wild a woman she is. She has been trying to repress many of her desires and I can tell it has been taking its toll. I don't know if you've noticed, but she has become very unhappy. And it shows. The carefree wild woman I adore has become glum and grouchy because she has felt the need to repress her desires." "But all that is going to change, starting today. As she learns how adventurous and open-minded you are, she's going to realize that she has been worried about nothing. So not am I only going to see you emerge and realize your full potential, I'm going to see Renee reemerge into the wonderful carefree woman she is at heart. I'm so excited to help one of my oldest and dearest friends and make a new dear friend - you - in the process." And since you don't seem a bit phased by any of this, other than you're actually starting to pant a little and getting a bit glassy eyed, there's another thing you should know. Despite what you've heard, we girls do kiss and tell. Word about you is going to get out. You can't see it, but as I look around the salon, I see that all eyes are on you. Half of these women have their cell phones out, giving their friends a blow-by-blow. A few of them have even tried taking pictures but I've shot them down, so to speak. Every kinky sex freak in town is going to want a piece of you. Congratulations, you're going to be the hot new ticket in town, baby." "And, in case you're worried about not having any photographs of our adventures today, don't bother. The security cameras here run 24/7 and cover every square inch of the shop. Even though you haven't seen your Mother since she left you in my capable hands, I have no doubt she has been watching every single step from the privacy of her office and can hear every word we've exchanged. If you look closely above the mirror, you'll see a tiny pinhole camera trained on us right now. Every station has one. That way she can monitor our work and if she feels we need any guidance, she can casually come by to give advice." Although I had enjoyed every moment with Heather, I started to cry. Heather grew alarmed and asked what was wrong. "What's wrong? Do you really have to ask me that? How do you think this makes me feel? You're telling me my Mother has been unhappy because of me. That she has been repressing herself because she's worried about what I might think. Jesus Christ! How am I supposed to feel? She's the most wonderful Mother in the world. She's beautiful. She's kind. She's my best friend." "And I'm sure she just heard every word you just heard, darling" Heather murmured. "Stop crying right now. Here's a box of tissues. Wipe those eyes and blow your nose, you silly girl. How were you supposed to know? The past is the past, don't cry over spilled milk and all that. Today is the beginning of a brand new future for you both." Digesting what Heather had told me, I dried my eyes and blew my nose. When I had regained my composure, I looked right above the mirror and said, "I love you, Mom. No matter what. Don't ever try to be someone you're not, or to repress who you are, because of me. That's not fair to you and it's not fair to me. This madness ends today!" At that, I heard sobbing through the office door and knew that mom had indeed heard every word I just said. They weren't sobs of sorrow, they were sobs of joy, as if a giant weight had just been lifted off of her shoulders. Heather started to giggle. For the first time, I was angry with her and asked "What's so funny? You think it's funny that I love my Mother and felt like crap because she's suffered because of me?" She put her scissors down, stepped in front of me and caressed my cheek. She explained "That's not it at all. That was the absolutely sweetest thing I've ever heard, darling. There's not a dry eye in the house, everyone is so touched. It makes me want to just eat you up." Seeing the anger fade from my face, she gave me another of her patented kisses before continuing. "I was giggling about what a great video we're going to be able to put together from the security cameras. Remember? Everything we've done and said has been captured. There's even a camera in the office that has captured your mother's reaction to everything we've done and said. If we upload that video to the Internet, you're going to be famous." I looked at Heather. "Like a star or something?" "No, not like a star. A starlet, pure and simple. A hot, sweet little sexpot learning the joys of being a woman. Even the people that can't stand the thought of a boy being a woman won't be able to tear themselves away, they'll be so shocked. But most of them, well, they're going to lust after you. Play your cards right and you'll be set for life. And I helped! That's why I was giggling." I reached up and pulled Heather's face to mine for another kiss. As we broke apart I said, "Then shouldn't we stop talking and get back to work?" She playfully slapped my cheek and laughed. "You really do always seem to know just the right thing to say! Let's get to it!" Heather returned to work with renewed vigor. After she finished with the left side of my head, she opened a drawer and pulled out what looked like a small heating element. She placed the device on her work counter, plugged it in and turned it on. Then she took out a small ceramic tub, removed the lid and put it on the device. She explained "That's wax. When we're done with your hair, I'm going to wax those ugly brows of yours." She got back to work, now moving on to the top of my head. She started on the left side. As she progressed further and further to the right hand side, I could tell from hair falling onto my smock that she was cutting it a bit shorter than the rest. She reached for a spray bottle and spritzed all of my hair. She ran a comb through all of my hair, spritzed it again and picked the scissors back up to make some adjustments to the length. At last she seemed satisfied with everything. "Now it's really time for some conditioner." She took me back to the hair washing station and soaked my hair. She reached for a bottle of conditioner and squeezed a large amount in the palm of one hand. The scent of gardenias, one of my favorite flowers, filled my nostrils. She rubbed her palms together and massaged the conditioner into my hair. She told me we needed to let the conditioner soak in for five minutes and that she was going to get a few things. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her take a pink robe from a nearby closet and take it to the Employees Only room. Then she seemed to go over to 'The Rest' but I saw her walk by carrying a few shoe boxes, which she also took to the employee's room. Heather returned, ran her fingers through my hair and pronounced "I think we're done here. Let's rinse your hair and go blow dry it." Once again, she wrapped a towel around my head turban-style before we returned to her station. She recovered the mirror, took out a hair dryer and turned it on. Working with the hair dryer in one hand and a large round brush in the other she got to work. At last, she turned the hair dryer. She stepped back to admire her work and murmured "Mmmmm, very hot, if I do say so myself." I still couldn't see what I looked like. But hair seemed to keep falling to cover my right eye no matter how many times I brushed it back with my hand. She stirred the contents of the ceramic tub a bit and then used a small brush to apply a bit over my left eyebrow. She took out a small piece of cloth and pressed it into the wax above my brow. She pressed one hand into the left side of my forehead, grasped one end of the cloth strip and.... Ouch, that hurt! It felt like she was ripping my eyebrows off, which I suppose she was. She did this several times and finally seemed satisfied. She took a clip and pinned the hair that kept falling over my right eye up and out of the way. Then she repeated the process on my right eyebrow. "Not bad" Heather said, "Just a few strays." She got a small pair of tweezers out of her drawer and seemed to be pulling hairs out one at a time. She put the tweezers away and took a small silver tube out. She removed the cap and placed a very small comb over what looked like a very tiny saw. "This is an eyebrow trimmer, honey" Heather explained. She pushed a small button on the side and the saw started to whir. She brushed the comb through my brows several times. "Much better now. But they just don't stand out enough." She reached into her drawer and pulled out a small glass tube with a jet black liquid in it. Holding the tube between two of her fingers, she shook it back and forth a few times. She unscrewed the lid and pulled out a small brush, which she combed through my left eyebrow. She put the applicator back into the tube, pulled it out and brushed it through the right eyebrow. "This is eyebrow dye, honey" Heather explained. "This needs to set for about 10 minutes. Let's start introducing this baby girl to womanhood and pierce your ears." She took out a cotton ball and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. After soaking the cotton ball with the rubbing alcohol, she brushed it over the front and back of both ears. She took out what looked like a pencil and pressed it to my right ear three times. Moving to my other side, she did the same. "Let's see, you said your birthday in in July. That means your birthstone is ruby. She stepped away for a bit and returned with what looked like a large stapler. She placed what looked like little nails onto the counter. At the end of each one was a small ruby colored rhinestone. She picked one of them up, removed a clasp and placed the little ruby tipped nail into the stapler. She then brought the stapler to my ear and gently pulled the trigger until the stapler was pinching my ear firmly in place. All of a sudden, she pulled the trigger firmly and I felt the nail go through my earlobe. She picked up the little clasp and pushed it over the sharp end of the nail, or 'stud" as she called it, behind my earlobe. She did this two more times before moving onto my left ear. "Now, here's what you're going to need to do. Last thing before you go to bed at night, first thing when you wake up in the morning and every two or three hours in-between I want you to squirt a little bit of this saline solution over each of your little ruby rhinestones. Then I want you to spin them a few times. Just like this." She squeezed a drop of saline over each stud and spun each of them a few times. She took out another cotton ball and rubbed it over my left eyebrow. As she pulled it away, I could see that it had soaked up the excess dye. She then did the same with my left eyebrow. Reaching up, she removed the large clip from my hair, which promptly fell down to cover my right eye again. She took out the brush and swept it from the left side of my forehead and over to my right ear, but the hair kept falling to cover my one eye. Stepping back, Heather said, "Wow, Ste... Wait a sec. Steven is dead. We're going to have to come up with a new name for you. Hmmmm. I think I'll call you 'Ruby," like your birthstone and earrings. Yes, 'Ruby Roxx,' that does sound hot. And let me tell you, you are going to rock! Are you ready to meet the new you, Ruby?" I took hold of Heather's hand and said, "I can't wait, Heather." At that, she reached for the cord that controlled the curtains over the mirror. As she rapidly pulled the cord to open them, she yelled "Ta da!" Oh my god, I can't believe it. Is that really me? The hair of the woman in in the mirror was parted on the left. It swept up and to the side before swooping down and ending with feathered wi