Summer at the Beach Part Seven
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Summer At The Beach, Part Ten free porn video
"Girl Talk" with my hair stylist was a new and different experience for
me. When Ralph whacked at my masculine hair at "Bob's Chop Shop", the
only intimacy we ever shared was Ralph's foul breath which I was exposed
to as he trimmed my nose hairs.
Before a perm rod was ever installed, I had been appraised of each
intimate detail of Max's initiation into the world of tampons and
menstrual periods.
At first I was somewhat shocked by his recitation of girlish delights
and manly humiliations. But then it hit me. He was not talking just
about himself. He was describing my feminine future to me. The perm of
today was not going to be the end of my trip into femininity. The Summer
was just starting. Just as my girlishness was just starting. I had the
feeling that there were many, many more steps to come in my instruction
in the womanly arts. Some, like the perm, would be new and thrilling,
and some, like Max' description of his periods and tampon training,
would be new and daunting. And possibly uncomfortable and embarrassing.
I wondered what Mother would say to me about this sensitive subject and
how she would teach her son about how and where and when to insert and
change tampons. At age sixteen, I was probably already a couple years
late in assimilating this information.
All these thoughts ran quickly through my pretty little head as Max
continued talking, as he laid me back, positioning my virgin head into
the shampoo sink. It was then that I saw the full effect of my French
bra and the sheer lavender silk of my peasant blouse. My, My, those
lovely "girls" were looking good for a 16 year old boy. The twin mounds
were pointing straight up, with my head tilted back being shampooed. The
pink nylon cape did nothing to diminish those womanly shapes and the
intriguing structure of the amazing bra which formed them. A feeling of
intense pride came over me. That was me in that bra and that blouse,
under that cape, head laying in the bowl of a styling station, being
shampooed by a semi-man, semi-woman, with lovely mascaraed lashes and
glistening lips. Well, my lips were glistening too, and I was proud of
it.
After rinsing, Max raised me back up into a sitting position and fluff
dried my hair. I glanced over at Diane at Station 3 and saw that she,
too, was finished with her shampoo and was involved with Gretchen in a
discussion which seemed to be about which size rods were to be used for
her perm. Then came a smile between the two women and a decision must
have been reached. I wondered what size rod Max had planned for my perm.
I was in his hands. I knew nothing about perm rods. But I was going to
learn very fast.
The drying was finished for the time being. Now my perm was to begin.
"Honey, you are going to be beautiful! Get comfortable in the styling
chair. I hope you are not too tightly corseted. This is going to take
awhile. But it will be fun. Fun for both of us. It is not that often
that I get to perm a total newbie. A lot of times I have done a girl's
first perm, but it is not that often that I am able to perm someone who
has little or no knowledge of what is going to happen to him. Or her, as
in your case, sweetie. Now I am going to perm you and you will have the
loveliest curls a girl can have. That's what you want, isn't it, honey?"
"Yes, Max, make me as beautiful as you can."
"That I can do, Honey."
A large tray of blue perm rods appeared as if by magic at Max' side. My
slightly damp hair started to fly through his magic fingers. As he
worked, I glanced over to Diane and saw that she was in the same stage
as I. She looked so cute in those rollers. I guess I looked about the
same as she did. That was a very sobering thought. Also a very pleasing
thought. Max was very professional. The perm rods flew into my hair and
were wound very tightly down to the scalp. Elastic bands secured the
closure and plastic picks held the rods securely in place in neat rows.
His skill at wrapping the end papers into each curl was amazing. Each
rod was as precise as the next and my head soon resembled a military
formation. As soon as the forty or so rods had been firmly put into
place, Max swiftly applied a soothing protective cream around the outer
edges of the display of rods and then placed a tightly rolled cotton
cord around the whole layout so that the perm solution didn't drip onto
my clothing or face. When this was accomplished, Max turned the styling
chair away from the mirror and made me face him.
"Now, Wendy, we have come to the moment of truth. I will now start
applying the perm solution to your rods and hair. It will smell. It may
be uncomfortable. It may get a little warm to your scalp. But that is
what a woman has to endure to be beautiful. I am using a exothermic
reaction Zotos "Feels So Lively" permanent wave. This is the perm that I
use for women who want firm curls and maximum setability and low
maintenance. After I apply the perm solution I will place a plastic cap
over your rolled head and the body heat from you head will start the
chemical action which will change the molecular structure of your hair
and give you glorious curls and the base for fantastic sets and styles
for months to come. You will have the perm cap on for about twenty
minutes and then we will test one of your curls. If it is a good bouncy
curl I will then give you a good rinse for about five minutes then I
will apply the neutralizer and let it do it's part in the beautification
process. Then we will remove the rods and let the curls fall sensually
around your neck and ears. Next a little more neutralizer and another
rinse and then on to a nice roller set and girly time under that nasty
dryer. At that point, I will make Doris Day and June Allyson eat their
hearts out. I chose this perm for you because I was told you would want
to have a lot of roller sets this summer, looking for just the right
style for you. I love it that a young girl like you really wants to
know how to be set like women used to be all the time. A lot of young
women these days have no idea of just how sexy they could be if they
just treated their "do's" with more respect. This perm is designed to
allow your sets to take faster and stronger and to maintain the set for
days if need be.
"Now, Wendy, shall I perm you?"
"Please, Max, give me a great Perm. I want to enjoy all the beauty you
can give me. I promise I won't cry. No matter what you do to me."
"Do it, Max. If Diane can handle getting a perm, so can I. I am just as
much a woman as she is, right, Max?"
"If you say so, JIM."
"I just want to make my Mother proud of her new daughter. So I want to
do all that I can to make myself the most beautiful daughter she could
ever ask for. Even if I didn't start out that way. Max, put the smelly
stuff on me, now!"
Max gently patted my shoulder and playfully tugged at my bra straps as
he did so. I was in good hands.
Max reached for the perm solution but I put up a hand, stopping him. He
stood back as I raised my hands to my rollered head. Tentatively at
first, and then with more and more pressure, I allowed my hands to
fondle my feminine roller pattern. I had seen Mother to this when she
was being permed when I was very young and the intriguing sight stayed
with me all these years. The pressure of my hands on those rods sent a
thrill through my body. A hand on each side and then on the nape of my
neck and then, gently, on the crown. I was completely rolled, soon to be
chemically curled, soon to lose one more large chunk of masculinity to
foul smelling beautification. As I enjoyed the feel of those rods,
pressed into my scalp, I looked over to Number 3 and saw that Diane was
doing exactly the same thing to her head. This moment must be
genetically installed in all young girls at their first perm. She looked
so cute and confident, patting her rods. I felt exactly the same. I must
have a lot more female genes then I had thought. Because I knew that
patting and caressing those rods was what I was supposed to do at this
point in time.
"OK, sexy one, enough of that. I must say I am very good at this. You
are a picture of what a perm girl should look like at this point in the
process. Your picture, rolled like this, could be on millions of boxes
of Home Perms. Pre-teen girls all over the world could look to your
picture as what they wanted for themselves. You are the image of a First
Perm.
With those words, the first rod was soaked with the perm solution. I
almost gagged at the vicious smell. A small rivulet of solution worked
its way through the cotton shield and ran down my forehead. Max placed
several cotton balls into my hand and I did my girlish duty, sopping up
stray perm solution before it got into my wide eyes. The Perm process
had now started.
Max worked swiftly and professionally. Soon the solution had been
applied to every rod. Quickly Max placed a pink plastic cap, resembling
a shower cap over my perm rods. The cap fit tight around my head. Soon,
as I sat their, looking at Diane in her baby blue cap, I felt heat
building on my scalp. Not hot, not yet, but rather pleasing to me. I
felt a warmth which signified to me that I was becoming one of the club.
Max gave me a book of hair styles to look through as I sat there. These
were styles which lent themselves to my length of hair and this perm.
Luckily I had not had my hair cut for many months and it was about 8
inches in length all around. With the picture of Doris Day that Max, and
I, so loved, plus all these styles, I could see that my life for the
next three months of this Summer at the Beach would be quite
interesting. I think Max and I will be spending a lot of quality time
together.
As I sat there for those twenty minutes, it seemed to me that my nail
polish shone so much brighter now. And my chest seemed to push itself
out on it's own volition, with no conscious thought from your's truly. I
found myself thinking that Mother would have loved to be here to see her
son, her daughter, nestled in this styling chair, being permed like any
other 16 year old Princess. Maybe at my next perm, she can watch. This
time it is for me alone.
The twenty minutes flew by with my thoughts. Max came and raised the cap
and tested a curl at the top of my head and also one at the nape of my
neck. He was pleased at the long "S" wave each lock displayed. The perm
had taken very nicely. Several women in the Salon had been following the
progress of mine and Diane's first perms. A few had stopped by during
the various stages and offered moral support to these seemingly
terrified young ladies. Now some of these supporters came over and
patted me on the knee and gave me a quick peck on the cheek, telling me
how proud they were of me and my decision to have a Permanent. From some
of the comments, i knew that at least some of the women knew that I was
a boy. But I was being welcomed into their club, dangling parts or not.
I enjoyed every minute of it. My fears were unfounded. As I am sure were
Diane's. All the rods were unwound and placed in a bowl in my lap, like
trophies of a battle fought and won. The rinses and the Neutralizers
came in sequence and the perm was at last finished. But never to be
finished in my memories of my First Perm.
Max now approached with a tray full of larger pink rollers. I was now to
be set in a pattern which will allow Max to style my "Do". The style I
had selected was one of Doris Day's earlier styles. The waves were very
full and sleek and sensuous. Basically off the face, with a part down
the right side of the head, There were no bangs as such. The waves were
flowing up and to the right off the forehead, creating wavy elevation
above the forehead. The sides were marcelled waved and structured to
frame the face and rest behind my right ear and over my left. The
elevation of the style kept all the waves at just below ear height and
the back was luxuriant wavy curls which would be teased to create depth
and height and fullness. This was to be a style which almost required
the lucky wearer to give feminine pats to her hair every few minutes.
There would be a definite need for long dangly earrings in the near
future.
Max' hands flew into action and pink roller after pink roller was driven
home with great strength to tightly bind these curlers to my scalp.
There were not as many of these rollers as there were of the perm rods
but there were a lot of them. More than Mother had ever set my hair on
before. My chest swelled at the feelings the setting gave me. Max
lowered a pink hair net over his handiwork and tied it off at the neck
behind my head. I looked over to Diane and saw that she was being netted
in a baby blue net over her baby blue curlers.
"Up you go, Wendy, off to the dryer. Diane will sit right next to you
and you can hold hands if you would like. Always nice to share a new
experience with someone you know."
Diane and I walked, hair permed, rolled and netted, to the dryers and
sat down, side by side. The dryers were fearsome things. Huge stainless
steel torpedo shaped monsters which came down from the ceiling like
monstrous praying mantis', seeking to devour its' prey. We sat in the
drying chairs and sat up tall to accept the hood of the dryer as they
were lowered over our heads. The hood was brought down so that all that
could be seen of each of us was just our lips, painted and smiling at
the situation. It was like we were being incased in a torture device
from the 1400's. It was thrilling! I had never thought I could feel the
way I felt under that dryer, next to Diane. I felt I was a woman, a
total woman. And no one looking on at the sight before their eyes could
argue with me on that point.
With no notice to us, the machine was turned on full blast and hot air
rushed around and through our rollers, causing the new chemicals in our
hair to react and set strongly into the cylindrical shape of the
rollers.
Sexy and sensuous curls were being baked into our hair. Curls and waves
which I had never experienced in my boyish life. For 30 minutes all I
could think of was that I now had tightly curled locks which screamed
"WOMAN"! And for 30 minutes I thought a lot about how I totally enjoyed
the whole process of getting a Perm. There was so much to be enjoyed
about the whole process of being and becoming woman. Mother has a lot to
teach me and I will be very receptive to her teachings. Just like a good
little girl!
The half hour passed too quickly. I enjoyed seeing all the ladies of the
Salon pass by, rolled and painted and polished, giving me a wink here
and there and blowing air kisses in our direction. The only way I could
respond was to wiggle my polished nails at them in a girlish manner in
thanks.
The heat was tremendous. As much as I enjoyed experiencing this
especially feminine bit of torture and being on display for the
enjoyment of all the GG's in the Salon, I was happy to see Max come to
rescue us from the diabolical machine. The hood was raised and I escaped
the heat and the noise and was ready for my styling.
Gretchen took Diane by the hand and guided her to Styling Station #3 and
Max was eager to get me into his clutches at Styling Station #4. As a
situated myself into the styling chair, the mirror beckoned to me. I was
entranced at what I saw. A lovely young lady with her hair in curlers
stared back at me. The difference in having a professional set my hair
and Mother or I doing it was immense. The preciseness of the winding and
the regimen of the rows of curlers was a work of art. For years I had
seen Mother rolled in the evening before going out or just before going
to bed in her curlers. The sight always struck a deep, longing feeling
in me. Oh how I wanted to ask Mother to do that to me. But I was afraid
of being humiliated. Of being called a Sissy. Now I wished Mother where
here to see her son, at long last, permed and curled in a Salon.
Max ruined my reveries. He undid the first of the curlers and a deep,
springy, voluminous curl lay poised on my scalp. It looked to be a
formidable object. That curl would be the basis of my crowning female
glory - My "Do"! I know it is 2016 but to be as much of a female as
possible, Mother and I had decided that I was to be well grounded in the
decade of real womanly hairstyles, the 1950's. Hairstyles which in no
way could ever be thought of as "Unisex". If I was to learn the ways of
Womanhood and grow to accept them as my own, I had to experience what it
meant to be a WOMAN, not a metro-sexual or a panty-waist or a pansy or a
TomBoy. For this Summer I would be a woman who is coiffed and polished
and girdled to the nth degree. Therefore, Doris Day, eat your heart out.
Wendy is here to claim your crown or Tiara or whatever. I was going to
look GOOD! in a very feminine way.
At last all the curlers had been removed and Max started to work his
magic with his combs and brushes and sprays. I was teased, back combed,
spritzed, bobby pinned, spit curled, hot curling ironed and sprinkled
with Fairy Dust. The feelings that went through me as he painfully
teased my perm to amazing heights and depths were profoundly intense and
pleasureful. No matter what I had to endure, I had in my minds eye, the
sight of me being shown to my Mother as a finished product of the female
bastion of femininity - The Beauty Salon.
After several hours in that chair, my "Do" was completed. Max flung off
the cape which had hidden to some degree my blouse and bra. He helped me
to my feet and turned me to face the mirror.
"Don't cry, child! You will ruin your makeup. You look absolutely
DIVINE!"
There was a burst of applause from all the women in the Salon. Diane
joined me in front of the mirror. Her hair was in a up do which had long
barrel curls falling down the back of her neck and framing her lovely
face. On her crown were masses of tight curls, even her bangs were
curled in an intricate pattern which could only say "I am Woman". She
was beautiful. So was I. The marcelled waves flowed back off my brow and
gently behind my ears. There was height above the brow and at the crown,
but only enough to give volume and bulk to the whole design. Soft waves
framed my ears and called loudly for long filigreed silver earrings to
add sparkle to the dignity of the wave. The mass of teased curls at the
back of my head had been sculpted into a brocade of entwined tendrils
which defined the bubble of sprayed curls that would cause Mother to
just die when she saw them. There was so much to take in. I felt faint.
What a cliche! Young maiden faints at her own beauty!
Max woke me from my reverie.
"Girls, you can't stand here all day. I have other women to make
beautiful. Go find your mothers and show them what Gretchen and Max did
to their little dears.
"But before you go, I think you both should wipe off your lipstick from
your mouth because with these hair do's and with your perms, you have
earned the right to wear RED lipstick. Pinks and corals are nice in
their place. But today, in this Salon, someone with do's like yours,
just have to have RED RED lips."
All the women who had been watching our emergence, gathered around a
double faced mirror which Max had brought out and put right in the
middle of the Salon. He put me on one side and Gretchen positioned Diane
on the other side. A Chanel Lipstick was handed to each of us. Diane
took the cap off and wound the tube to it's fullest height. It was very
RED. I slowly did the same with my tube. We each faced our side of the
mirror.
"Diane and Wendy, Welcome to the Club!"
Diane stepped a step closer to the mirror and raised her tube of scarlet
to her lips. I did the same. As if choreographed, both our tubes found
their way to our lips. Doris Day opposite from June Allyson. It seems
that with this hair "Do", only RED would do. I loved it! I took an extra
long time to do my lips. A rhythmic clapping started at the first touch
of the tube to my lips. It grew louder and louder and crescendoed just
as I capped the tube, after two coats, and blew a kiss to Diane.
Mother and Judy walked into the Salon as the echo of the applause was
still lingering.
Annalisa
- 11.03.2020
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