Pucker Up 2 free porn video

Pucker Up By Jena Corso Edited by Angela Meyers Chapter 2 Before he could complain anymore, his sister ripped open the curtain as his mother, Lillian and Marcy were all waiting anxiously. "Oh my," said Lillian as a huge grin ever so slowly grew on her face. "Marcy?" "Wow..... I think she's going to be really cute," said Marcy, as her eyes grew large, nodding at Lillian. "I'm so excited! This is so much more fun than doing the same crap we usually do. No offense, Bridget." "Believe me! None taken!" said Bridget, feeling a sense of relief, stroking her brother's hair. "I'm just glad now that he hasn't lost a game in forever." "I think we all are. Who knew those silly boy's rituals would ever benefit us!" said Lillian, turning some pages over on her clipboard. "Sixteen minutes, Kristen?" "Please mom!" sighed Bridget and then looking at Paul. "You know I never ask anything from you do I? Please, Paul?" "I hate you," said Paul, taking a deep breath and then nodding, seeing his mother looking at him with tears in her eyes. "Sign here and here, Kristen," said Lillian on the attack. "Plus I've of course waved my customary agent fee, but just realize I do become her agent automatically should for any strange reason anyone want to sign her, or she wins." "You mean he?" Kristen replied while signing. "Well not for long I don't," sighed Lillian, rolling her eyes pointing to a few clauses. "May I point out that we do have the ability to assign a stage name or even a contestant nickname, which of course we'll take advantage of. I'll just add a little 'a' on the end, and any idea for a pretty little middle name?" "Mom, how about yours?" said Bridget. "Anne." "Very pretty, Bridget," said Lillian, writing. "So we'll go with Paula Anne, and I'll use your maiden name that I see here as Carbonelli. That sounds really pretty, really Italian and will work well since you said your mother will be here tomorrow. She's a Mrs. Carbonelli right?" "Yes. She is," replied Kristen, feeling like she just sold her son to the devil. "Excellent! Pleasure doing business with you, Kristen, and I suggest you hurry along with Bridget," said Lillian, again tapping her watch. "In the meantime, we'll take good care of Miss Paula and trust me, the next time you see her I bet you won't even recognize her." "I'll be right back after Bridget's segment, honey," said his mother, hugging him like she wouldn't see him again for a year. "Don't worry, it'll be fine." "Mom, come on," said Bridget, pulling her away. "I'm on in fifteen minutes and we've got to find something that fits me." "I'm coming," said Kristen, kissing her son's head and pointing at Lillian and Marcy. "You better take damn good care of my baby while I'm gone. I know how competitive you are Lillian, just promise me you'll gentle please." "What could we possibly do with some paint and powder that could hurt the fabulous hockey ruffian?" Lillian replied sarcastically. "The way I look at is that all we'll be doing is taking your little star and making her an even brighter one!" "Fine. Do what you have to do so no one is the wiser and you save face," said Kristen, looking at them sternly. "But remember no cutting the hair in any way." "Eeewww!" grumbled Marcy. "Even the gross split ends. Couldn't we just trim and shape a little." "No," pointed Kristen with her finger one last time as she turned from the room. "Curl it. Pin it up. Do whatever else you need to with him, but no way I am going to bear the burden of breaking that streak. I'll be there as soon as your sister is off stage. Love you honey." Kristen and Bridget were hurrying from the room as they scurried to find a dress and hit the stage. "Relax, that won't affect you Marcy," said Lillian leaning down and looking at Paul. "Now you go with Marcy and she'll get you into something comfortable for now Paula. And don't be nervous, we'll adhere to your mother's little condition and you'll be getting the royal treatment in no time my dear. I'll radio down so they have a nice robe and everything awaiting you." "Come sweetie," said Marcy, taking his hand. "I don't bite and all you'll need to do is sit back and my team will do the rest." It was a slow walk down the corridor in the huge lightweight gown as he couldn't believe he was about to do this for his sister. Taking small steps in only his socks under the dress definitely helped him move fairly easily, as they soon turned inside a well-lit dressing room. When they got inside, three more people hurried in to help as he quickly realized they weren't kidding that he'd be worked on by a team. "Just step out gingerly and we'll get you situated, Paula," said Marcy, unzipping the back of his dress. "This is Danielle and Roberto and that's Ginger over at the sewing machine. Ok ladies let's get to it." "How wonderful, a boy after my own heart," said a flamboyant Roberto, helping him step out of the dress. "We'll take good care of you Paula and that dress is fabulous. Did you help design that dear?" "Thanks and no," said Paul, mortified as he stood in only his underwear for a moment. "My grandmother made it." "She's good," said Ginger, pulling a robe from her sewing machine and holding it open. "Here honey I embroidered it as quickly as I could for you!" Before he knew it, his arms were inside a short pink silk robe and then Ginger closed it and looped the belt. "PCA?" said Paul looking down. "Is this your first monographed robe, honey?" said Ginger, a little surprised. "Last name initial made slightly larger in the middle and first name first and middle name last. Paula Anne Carbonelli. PCA. Very pretty name." "Uumm thanks," sighed Paul ready to puke. "And now let's get moving to get to matching that pretty name then ladies," said Marcy taking charge. "Now chop chop! Our princess awaits us!" "Here these should be good enough for now, Paula," said Ginger, handing him some matching pink silk panties. "Just kick the others away and take a seat, honey." At least the short robe provided a touch of privacy as he graciously dropped his fruit of the looms briefs to the floor and pulled up his panties. Being in silk was a sensation he could have never imagined, as they felt so cool and soft as he stepped into the big red and steel chair. It was almost like he was wearing nothing at all as his body jostled slightly as Marcy pumped a petal a few times, elevating the chair. When she was happy with the height, Danielle dropped a big shiny black cape over his robe and then lifted his hair. Once she twisted it behind his neck, she spun the chair and then dropped the back. "Lift your head for a moment and push up just a little, sweetie," said Marcy as she lifted his hair from his shoulders as he moved before quickly dropping it back into the sink. It had been a few years since anyone other than himself had washed his hair, but that time was over now as the warm water now saturated his locks. Her massaging fingers actually helped relax him momentarily as she lathered up his head, but that sense of relaxation was quickly broken as Danielle placed his left hand on a table to his right. With his head back in the sink, he couldn't look over to see but he could feel her clipping and shaping his nails. If that wasn't bad enough, Ginger now lifted his right leg straight up in the air and what he could see was Roberto lathering it up. It was soon impossible not to watch the pink razor slide down his calf as Ginger held his leg steady by the ankle. "It that really necessary?" moaned Paul, watching it slice away a small section from his ankle down. "You can't even see my feet in that huge dress, and I'm not really too hairy." "In that dress, true," said Marcy as she looked down at him working in the sink. "But I'm sure being at these things before with your sister, you do realize all the changes that take place." "I guess so," gulped Paul, thinking about all the garment bags the bell hop had taken from the car. "My mother had a lot of stuff hanging in the back of the mini-van for her." "And now all of that is yours, honey," said Marcy. "In pageants like this one, you'll be in for a weekend of fabulous outfit changes." "I haven't had much time to think about any of this." Paul felt sick. "It'll be fine," said Marcy, comforting him. "The outfit changes will be the easy part. The rest of the changes will take a little more work for all of us, but don't you worry, because you're already well on your way and there's no turning back now, Paula." "I know," mumbled Paul, trying to stay positive that this was no big and he was just helping Bridget. "Thank you sweetie! I'm sure you'll make a fantastic princess for us," said Marcy as he looked up, seeing Ginger with some small string between her finger. "But first we'll need just a touch of that hockey player toughness for just a minute honey. Eyes closed please." The moment he closed his eyes, the first pluck felt nothing like he expected as he certainly needed to muster a little bit of toughness, not expecting how much it stung. He would have certainly rather have taken a puck to the face, but had never known the feeling under his helmets cage and visor yet these little tender pinches were continual, like getting cross checked across the forehead. Two or three minutes on each side were all it took until the stinging ended and her fingers softly soothed him rubbing around his brows. He was definitely getting the royal treatment alright, as all four worked on him in tandem as all he could do was sit there as his nostrils filled with all the soft fragrant smells. Within ten minutes he was washed and conditioned and now his legs were completely bare. As his hair hung soaking in the sink, Marcy began covering his face with a thick green liquid and then his vision was impaired once some fruity slices were added over his eyes. He could feel it harden over his skin as it bonded to his pores, as Danielle jumped to the right hand as they began to elevate the back of his chair. From behind now, Marcy sectioned constantly and he felt her combing through his hair over and over. Section after section he could feel her stretching small sections of his hair and then a constant crumbling sound in his ears. "Sit still please doll, and we'll just keep your fingers outstretched," said Danielle as he began getting fidgety. "Feet still as well, and let Roberto start your toes honey." Danielle moved back to his left hand now as he felt Roberto working at his feet. He couldn't believe how intricate their work seemed to be, feeling the slightest pressing at his finger tips and little tugs at small slices of his hair. As the mix of soft scents and pungent smells crossed paths mixing inside his nasal cavity, he grew even more uneasy. It was like water torture as the tiny slow moving sensations from head to toe were almost too much to take for another fifteen minutes, until finally Marcy interrupted the angst by pulling the slices from his eyes. "Having fun yet, Paula," teased Marcy, pulling off his cape as Roberto slipped some flip flops on his feet. "Come, we're going to move you to the dryers. Keep your fingers fanned out and don't touch anything." "Fun?" said Paul, giving her a look like he wanted to kill her as she held his elbow as he gingerly stood from the chair. "Of course!" said Marcy, turning him towards the big mirror. "You have to smile and have fun at these contests if you have any chance of competing. It's fun to be beautiful." "Holy crap," yelled Paul, seeing his reflection. "That looks beautiful, alright!" It was unbelievable as the full view of him now looking like a disaster with his face covered in a green mask. He realized what the crumbling sound was now as his entire head was covered in layer of layer of folded over flat foils, and it was stunning to see square extensions on all of his digits. He felt queasy as he sat in only his robe now as they placed each of his hands under a dryer on each side of him and then switched on a series of red lights that Marcy positioned around his head. "There are times to show a little attitude of course, but a pretty smile goes a long way towards winning," Marcy teased. "Trust me, you'll see once we get you there but our young debs don't use words like crap, please." "Winning?" cried Paul. "Who said anything about winning!" "Well, I've heard you've got a thing for winning, and so does my boss," said Marcy, beginning to peel off his mask. "I mean obviously being a fill in with no experience the expectations aren't there, but you don't think we're waiting on you hand and foot to just have us mail it in do you?" "I have no idea," said Paul, shaking his head. "I'm just doing this for my sister and for her to supposedly save face." "Well that's partially true," said Marcy, cleaning his skin. "But you see my team gets paid to do more than save face. We get paid for results, so trust me, like it or not you're about to compete. My only order is I can't trim those straggly locks of yours, but either way we're in the process of making them look sensational. Now chin up, eyes closed and follow my simple commands because saving face for Lillian starts with making a face on you. Time to get pageant pretty, Paula! Try saying that 3 times quickly." "I'd rather not," mumbled Paul. "Once will be more than enough." "See, you're already starting to relax'. Laughed Marcy, playfully patting him. "But true it'll only take once!" There was really little else he could say as a loud compressor switched on and Marcy began airbrushing his face. The soft air felt so weightless as it swirled across his cheeks and then slowly but surely made its way across the bridge of his nose to the other side. Up to his forehead and then beneath his chin, the entire perimeter had been gently coated when finally the air finally stopped. A short pause and then it was puffing at each cheek and then after another pause at his forehead. When finally she switched it off, the softest brushes glided almost tickling across various parts of his face, and then he felt a firm line being drawn across his upper lids. "Open up those baby blues now, Paula," said Marcy as she held his eyes open with her fingers and drew at his water lines before a timer dinged in the background and off went the heat lamps. "Perfect timing. Let's cool down a touch, finish this and then we'll move seats again ok honey." When she leaned back gazing at her work, it was completely unexpected to see her open a large case of faux lashes and hold a few against his own. A little trim on the end of one and then it was unimaginable to see her coating the edge of a thick lash with some glue knowing it would soon be coming his way. He opened and closed on command now as she glued each lash to his and then began applying his eye shadow. He watched the tiny applicator tip into the dark and then light pinks before being brushed across his lids, and then before he knew it she clamped down his lashing curling. A little separating with her brush and then a good four coats of mascara were almost dizzying as she jumped back and forth, intricately making up his eyes. It was impossible to keep track of exactly what was happening, as he constantly opened and closed on command seeing a glimpse of her brush dip into off whites, pearl pinks and glittery shadows. At the end, a few quick touches on his brows seemed to complete his eye makeup, as finally she stepped back, seemingly pleased with her work. "I'm done?" asked Paul, now feeling totally uncomfortable as they all studied his face. "Well only if you intend to go out there looking like a science experiment," teased Marcy, tapping his thigh. "Come on. Let's get the foils out and fix that pretty hair of yours." "Well this all an experiment to me no matter what," said Paul, trying to make light of it to stay calm as he stood up now. "Trust me, I can already tell you're going to please the judges at this science fair," said Marcy, placing her cape over him once again as he sat back in the chair near the sink. "It may be a new science to you, but I know the science of what the judges look for and you're already well on your way to doing just fine." Paul really didn't like the sound of that or what even to make of it, as back went his chair as Marcy guided his hair into the sink. His mind was now filled with worry as she removed foil after foil from his head and then proceeded to wash out his hair again. When finally the water went off, it felt soothing to be towel dried and relaxing as the blow dryer blew through his locks. A few minutes later, the noise from the dryer was a thing of the past, but instead all the noise was created by their banter as Marcy brushed his hair to the right then the left and held it in every direction as they debated their options. When the confusing chitchat finally ended, It was the first time he had ever wished he had lost a game, as he watched her take a series of clips and her curling iron from her vanity. Some quick twisting and most of his tresses were instantly clipped atop his head as he had now become just another girl getting her hair curled. Piece by piece he felt her roll it up for only seconds at a time and then drop it back to his shoulders, as he sat like he was in the electric chair listening to the hairspray coat each one. He had been teased by his mother that his hair was so long she should curl it, but never did he dream it would actually be happening. Two dozen twists later, the iron was finally down and then Marcy had a mouth full of pins. Between some short brushing and pins sliding against his scalp, his stomach was in knots knowing they were almost finished with him. "Now a few last pinches and we'll gloss up those lips," said Marcy with a sparkle in her eye, looking over at Ginger as she circled his hair, touching it adding a little more hairspray. "Your hair is to dye for Paula. It came out gorgeous. I think even your sister will be jealous." "Oh I doubt that. All she ever does is go to the salon!" Paul replied, seeing Ginger. "Wait you're not?" "Yes honey," said Ginger, drawing a little dot on his ear lobe. "It'll be fine, almost every boy has such cute earrings these days anyway." Before he could even get another word out, he felt the quick pinch on his right ear and instinctively reached up. "Crap!" Paul screamed. "Mind your nails hon, and sorry if I startled you," said Ginger, reloading the gun and walking around to the other side. "Believe me you're lucky Lillian let you wear these 24K studs. They're gorgeous and have good sturdy postings that I can hang some big earrings that are an absolute must in these contests." "Sweetie?" warned Marcy giving him a look. "Please remember what I said about pretty girls saying things like crap. We've got to get past the locker room slang, doll." "Sorry," said Paul as Ginger again worked at his ear. "Now sit still again please, Paula," said Ginger, loading the gun. "One down, three to go." "Three," Paul complained, ready to spring from the chair as Ginger pushed down on his shoulder. "Boys don't have." "Ssshhh," said Roberto, leaning down looking into his eyes to comfort him, holding each shoulder as the left stud went in. "Of course we do. Look straight ahead at me honey. I've got seven and four in one side alone." "And I'm sorry but we can't have you thinking like a boy at all anymore this weekend, Paula Anne," scolded Marcy as he felt the next pinch in his left ear. "Plus the second you leave this room, you won't have a second thought like that anyway." "It's bad enough I may be looking like one, but I don't know how to think like one," moaned Paul, flinching a second as the next piercing penetrated the right side. "Maybe not yet, Miss Paula but it'll come," said Marcy, taking a pencil and outlining his lips. "Smile as big as you can and hold it dear." "And I'm sure as smart as you are you'll get there," said Ginger, inspecting his ears as he suddenly felt the weight as she worked. "Don't get mad at me, but I think you're already truly beautiful, honey." Paul gulped as she put down her pencil and took a brush, filling in his lips. When she finished he felt ready to cry watching her rub another brush into a clear gel before covering his lips in a sticky finish coat. It was uneasy as they all smiled down at him, admiring their work as Marcy now undid his cape and then Roberto knelt, rolling some nude hose over his feet. "Stand please, Paula," said Roberto as Paul stepped from the chair to the floor and Roberto pulled up the hose as Ginger slid off his robe. He was shivering as Roberto snugged the waist band and then looked over, seeing Lillian walk in with a few pairs of shoes. "Oooooh ladies!" sighed Lillian with a huge grin on her face. "I must say you've all outdone yourself." "Is that bad?" sighed Paul nervously. "No princess. Quite the contrary!" Lillian walked over, inspecting his face and hair loving his look. "Now let's hope these fit, but if not I've got plenty of eights down the hall." "I can't walk in those! Those are heels!" moaned Paul in shock. "You stand all day on those little thin skate blades, right? You must have good balance and some grace, so I'm sure you'll be fine in these?" said Lillian reasoning. "I stand the whole day in stilettos and was a gymnast and fall on my ass in skates." "Well I'm not an eight. They're too big and you won't even see my feet under that huge dress," blurted Paul as Roberto took a pair and kneeled down grasping his foot. "Honey even the little girls in this contest are out there in kitten heels and these aren't that high," said Lillian, looking at him sternly. "They're only three inches and that's what the dress was designed to have under it, or it would drag on the floor. That we can't have! It could catch on something or rip. Plus in some of your other outfits, your shoes will be on display so get used to it. An eight in girls is the same as a six in boys so drop the diva shit and don't you dare ever question my direction again? Am I clear, young lady?" "Yes," replied Paul, holding Roberto's shoulder as his right foot was now elevated as he buckled the strap around Paul's ankle. "That's better, because I expect you to forget from here on that you were ever a boy because you are undeniably Paula Anne," said Lillian sternly, looking at her watch as the other shoe went on now. "Now let's get on that dress and your jewelry so we can practice that walk and prepare you for what to expect." "Yes Lillian." Paul was covered in goose bumps as he looked down at his bright pink toenails now inside pink strappy sandals with a thin three inch heel. "You're gonna do great, Paula," said Ginger lifting his arms and turning on her wet dry. "Let's just make sure we've got nothing to see here." Quickly she buzzed her little wetdry into his arm pits and then up and down each arm. He had not a hair in his armpits to begin with, and what little peach fuzz sat atop his forearms was now a thing of the past. A few spritzes of a flowery deodorant almost didn't matter to him now as they strapped a glistening bracelet to his right wrist and then Roberto unzipped his dress. Being held by the forearm on each side, he gingerly stepped inside and the moment both heels rested softly in the middle it felt like a death sentence. If stepping in the first time with his sister wasn't bad enough, this time was twice as bad as he couldn't bear to watch, closing his eyes. When the bodice got chest level, they helped his arms through the shoulder straps and he took one last deep breath as the zipper rose, knowing it was his nerves not the dress suffocating him. Paul was scared shitless as he peeked open his pupils, seeing nothing but that familiar sea of pink encapsulating his legs as he knew they were already judging him before he even stepped foot from the room. "Oooohhh... She's so nervous," said Ginger, softly rubbing his shoulder to comfort. "It'll be fine sweetie." "Every girl has jitters," said Lillian, tapping her chin thinking as she looked him up and down. "It's just natural Paula." "But there's nothing natural about me!" replied Paul , throwing up his hands as Marcy was hooking the little clasp of a necklace behind his neck. "We all know that." "Well this is what they call a glitz contest, honey. So there's nothing natural about anyone here," said Lillian, tapping her finger. "Huhh?" sighed Paul looking at her crooked. "There really are only two types of pageants, darling," said Lillian, rolling her eyes at his na?ve question. "One that they call a natural pageant, and then there are glitz pageants where everyone is done up to the nines. Obviously it would be tougher on you in a natural pageant where there are strict rules on makeup and outfits, but this isn't one of those. So really I understand the jitters, but there's really no reason to be nervous. You see you're as pretty as anyone else here, and in a glitz pageant we can make you up to be as spectacular as we want. Now trust me and take a really good look at yourself and tell me what you see? Because what I see is nothing but a beautiful blossoming young lady in a dress to die for. What I think the judges and the audience will see is nothing short of an enchanting beauty queen!" He sighed hearing her comment, for hard as he tried he really couldn't argue, because in no way, shape or form could he see his former self or better yet any glimpse of a hockey player. Instead there stood just another pageant girl ready to be judged as suddenly he knew the moment was before him. He was dressed as expected in the dress he had already tried on, as Ginger knelt beside him with a little hand held steamer lifting all the little ruffles. He'd be making his first entrance in a sweetheart tiered pleated skirt Ritzee Girls Pageant Gown in a cotton candy pink. Around his chest, the organza bodice had been constructed to be perfectly fitted and stuffed just a touch at the cups to give him a hint of a blossoming sweetheart A cup. Shiny silver appliques were scattered throughout from the waistline up to draw in the eye of the judges and add a glimmer with even the slightest movement. See through glittery crinoline shoulder straps held it perfectly in place, and then the dress exploded into 14 layers of ruffle cascades beneath the waistline. Somehow they knew that 3 inch heels would keep the huge bell skirt hovering millimeters from touching the floor, yet it seemed light and airy even if it looked like he was wearing some huge puffy outfit. Every layer of delicate tulle sparkled with a hint of silver glitter at its edge and had been intricately sewn into a wavy ruffled tiered fashion, growing wider as it cascaded towards the floor. The only exception was toward the left side of the middle layers, where the same tulle material had been turned, shaping a large blooming rose which only added to its delicate tantalizing princess allure. What he hadn't noticed before was that his grandmother had also sewn a small replica of the tulle rose and attached it to a snap in comb which had been inserted, pulling his hair back above his left ear. In reality that accessory was nothing as he almost couldn't believe the transformation of the rest of his hair and face had undergone. From a left side part now, his hair surged across to the right resting on his shoulder and back in long flowing loose glamorous curls. On top it sat fairly straight with just a touch of volume as it swept just covering the outer edge of his eye, and then exploded in a few stacks of slightly brushed out thick twists. Just seeing himself in curls was bad enough, but what really send shock waves through his mind was seeing the mixed interwoven honey highlights atop his medium brown natural base color, and caramel tips that had recolored the last swirl near the ends of many curls. He was stunned, realizing what had transpired during his time under the heat lamps, quickly grasping the bottom third of his hair had been lightened for a caramel Bayalage effect while the rest of the foils served to add lifting highlights. If his hairdo or dress didn't scream glitz pageant, his makeup would cement it in his mind, completing a more feminine illusion than he thought possible. Never had he seen his complexion looking so soft almost creamy, and atop it the blushes and shadows seemed to blend naturally or highlight a feature. Even he couldn't tell how far down they had blended foundation, as it matched his natural skin so flawlessly. Gone now were any of the blemishes from his acne, and even more shocking, last years' little scar from his previously stitched puck to the neck hockey injury, had now seemed to have vanished. Rose' wine colored blush tenderly sculpted his cheek bones and his thick dark lashes fanned with in a curled shape as he glared at his lids. Pearl pink at the creases to darker carnation pink at the outer edges added a touch of innocence to his softened features, and his blue eyes framed inside the thinnest liner seemingly looked like they would draw in any onlooker. The slightest arch to his manicured looking brows was certainly apparent above an ivory accent shadow, but the gleam from his nervous smile encapsulated everything. He was now that sparkly princess that he had previously gawked at with a faint interest on youtube or in a pg-13 movie, as his lips twinkling under a fuchsia gloss that unexpectedly defined him. "So for today all we really need to work on are your mannerisms, posture and of course that walk," said Lillian, placing a text book atop his head. "Like them or not, the heels will natural ly help with that as you grow used to them, so let's take a few small steps and get started honey." "Try to take smallish steps, putting one foot right in front of the other and walk to me, Paula," ordered Marcy as he stood frozen, balancing the book. "Once we get that down we'll work on the rest." Within one step, the book wobbled and by the second step crashed to the floor as he stared, puzzled as he missed grabbing it. "No no, darling," said Roberto, demonstrating as he sashayed across the room. "Now let me just take your arm and we'll do it a few times and then try again with the book. Heel to toe girl!" "It's harder than it looks," Paul said, slightly miffed, picking up the book. "Not really! It just takes practice," said Marcy, replacing the book atop his head again. "Start off imagining that someone is pulling you to the sky from your hair. That will correct that little hunch and make sure your posture is spot-on. Go ahead and give that a try." "Ok," said Paul, trying to concentrate. "That would be my sister pulling it hard if I fuck this up for her." Everyone enjoyed his little joke and then he breathed out and again took that first step. It was a little wobbly the first few times, but quickly he got the hang of it. By the fourth time across the room, he could feel the difference as now the book just teetered but didn't fall. "See, not bad! Now let's try again, and your hands should be on your sides with your palms turned in towards your sides," said Roberto, getting excited as he twisted Paul's hands, re-positioning them. "Make sure you slightly swing your arms naturally as you walk." "Holy crap," said Paul, growing confident as he felt more sturdy. "I think I can actually do this." "Of course you can," clapped Roberto happily as Paul strolled back and forth, practicing. "Lift from the rib cage, relax your shoulders and just never forget to keep your chin up." "Ok up and down the hall now with the book, Paula," said Lillian. "Fifteen minutes and you're going to do fine girl." It was so embarrassing like he was a toddler having to be trained to walk, or in reality re-trained to walk in a ladylike fashion. Lilian was right though, that he did have great balance being a tremendous skater, as it didn't take long until he conquered walking, balancing the book on his head. Without even realizing it, he had mastered walking in heels in no time and after fifteen minutes up and down the hal,l they were back in the room working on his hand gestures, facial expressions and various smiles. It was a crash course for a part diva part debutant, and before he could even muster up any last objection, Lillian began filling his head with instructions. "Now focus honey. It's easy and you'll watch some other girls do it first," said Lillian, taking out a white board and drawing. "There are five big X's on the stage that represent various stations where you will stop." "Ok, like they have at a hockey rink," said Pau,l staring at her diagram. "I see left wing, center, right wing and that's almost like the net." "Exactly sweetie. You'll go to each one, and the net and stop. Well that's the judges," said Lillian nodding. "The contestant will come from backstage to X1. You stand for just a moment and then turn and strike a pose. Smiling of course! Always smiling right?" "Got it," said Paul concentrating. "Good girl," said Lillian. "Then walk from X1 to X2 towards the corner of the stage and again pose. Then X2 to X3 is probably the most important X on the stage, because it's right in front of the judges. Here, you have to make eye contact with each judge and not just casual, but actually turn your face towards each judge. Plus, this is where you should show your personality, like blow kisses, wave and wink." "Blow kisses?" asked Paul. "Yup, its easy. After they get a good look at you and you smile until your face hurts. Then you show that stuff to the audience before you move to X4," said Lillian, taking his hand and showing him. "You're so pretty it'll be easy. Big smile. Big kisses. The wave and wink you have down already. Go ahead and practice." "Ok," said Paul, embarrassed as he she tutored him in smiling and winking while he blowing kisses. Towards the mirror again she turned him as he blew kiss after kiss to himself and couldn't believe his own eyes, winking and waving. "Perfect sweetie. You're adorable!" applauded Lillian. "Now after you're done saluting everyone out there, it's on to X4. While walking, maintain eye contact with the judges and do the little crab walk we worked on. You know the slight sort of sideways prance and then you do the 'cutesie' slow turn we practiced." "Yes, I got it," nodded Paul. "You're so smart, Paula!" said Lillian, giving him confidence. "Then last turn at the other corner at X4, you walk without stopping but again wave and blow kisses one last time once you stop at X5. Then its a big goodbye type wave and then just walk over and stand with the other girls while everyone gets their turn. Got it?" "I think so," said Paul. "Not mindboggling." "No but you'd be surprised how many girls screw it up," said Lillian as she threw open the door and he was being lead out. "Ok any last questions?" "Holy cra-" Paul started to panic, realizing it was time. "I mean Oh my gawwddd I think?" "Well better pretty than smart," giggled Marcy as they all cracked up as Lillian took his arm softly as they left the room. "Good catch girl!" "Wait, but where's my mother! We're doing this already?" Paul suddenly was being led down the hall towards the back of the stage. "She's said she'd be back. I... I can't without her." "She texted that she's on her way just minutes ago as your sisters' group ran a little late. I had to pull a few strings and push it back or your sister would have been eliminated. I doubt you would have wanted that, or you'd be doing all this for just me," said Lillian, rubbing his back as they walked. "No of course not," said Paul looking down. "See what a perfect sister you make. So sweet and thoughtful already," said Lillian, as they stopped as he saw the line of girls backstage. "Now she won't be able to get here in time before you go on, but she'll be out there to see you and be here for your first outfit change." "You're kidding." Paul was ready to piss himself. "No sweetie, but you're going to do wonderfully," said Lillian, giving him a little hug. "You just aced everything, Paula." "I feel like I'm going to pass out." Paul had goosebumps, looking at all the fancy dresses and girls getting last minute touch ups. "Every girl here feels like that, but trust me none ever has," said Lillian, giving him a little shove and waving to a woman with a clipboard. "Now go and all you have to do is exactly what we just rehearsed. You look beautiful! You're sixth in line and that's Gianna. She's in charge backstage, and she'll give you your queue."