21 Part 4 free porn video

Twenty One By Jena Corso Edited by Angela Meyers Chapter 4 In the morning, they awoke him much like any other day, except today it was his sister sitting on the bed instead of his mother, feeling his face. "Finally, I feel at least a little something," said Vanessa, annoyingly stroking his chin, pulling off the covers. "Better go shave, and Tara's already here in my room ironing your outfit, sis." "Oh, I hate you calling me that," Rplied Bob, wandering into the bathroom and handling his morning business. It took some getting used to wiping and working with long nails, but he was beginning to adjust with the continual practice, as he emerged from the bathroom to a room full of girls. "Oh hi," said Bob, instantly seeing Sabrina again with Tara and his sister. "You're here again?" "Sabrina just wants to help," said Tara, knowing he didn't expect her. "You know she's going to beauty school after graduation, so I told her to come around this morning. I'm ok with makeup, but not like her, and I figured she could lay out a routine for us after everything you bought last night." "Like I picked any of that?" said Bob, rolling his eyes. "But I'm just going to school, right?" "In the morning, yeah," said Tara sarcastically back at him. "Come on, it's Wednesday! Isn't today a half day, and I thought finally I could chill a little at home after class," Bob complained. "How much more could I have to do? I'm so tired?" "Believe me, we need the half day and then some," said Tara, shaking her head. "You're even more clueless than I thought." "Yeah, but I'd say he's getting some appreciation first hand!" said Vanessa. "Haven't you, sis?" "Apparently not! Girls, I left you some coffee and muffins downstairs. I'm off to work now," said his mother, walking by and sipping her coffee. "Hopefully when it's over, he's gotten a full appreciation of all that goes into being a prom date, so maybe when the week is out, he'll never take a request like this for granted again." "Whatever," sighed Bob. "I'm sorry, Sabrina," said Tara, shaking her head. "You think he'd try to make this easier on all of us, but as you can see, not the case." "It's fine, and all we're doing is a basic daytime look, Bobbi," said Sabrina, laying out different brushes. "It's not that difficult, and really Tara or Vanessa could handle it, but I'll teach you a few tricks so this will be easier." Sabrina took a moment, digging through the bags and laying out all his newly purchased makeup across his desk. What was once filled with trophies and sports figurines had now been turned into a make shift vanity, as she opened up a portable three way magnifying makeup mirror and plugged in the lights. He sat in his desk chair as Tara spun his hair up tight and snapped on a big clip temporarily, as instead of a stranger doing his makeup this time it would be a girl from homeroom. Sabrina really did know what she was doing as she blotted his face and before he could even complain. evened out his foundation. It was weird watching it happen, as in no time he had a flawless complexion as his sister, now rolled up a chair behind him and pulled out the clip. She pulled out some of the messy back and re-clipped the rest. He hated his sister enjoying this part of the work as he could see her in the mirror so intently working behind him, spraying his hair. He could only sit as she pulled the flat iron through his hair as Sabrina instructed both Tara and Bob about the differences between day time and evening looks for someone with his coloring, pointing out options in his makeup kits. It mostly went in one ear and out the other anyway, as he never realized how many names there were for different pinks and browns, as just seeing Vanessa over his shoulder made it even tougher to concentrate on anything she was saying. "Bobbi," said Sabrina, snapping her fingers, breaking his zone. "You with me?" "Uuumm," replied Bob, not caring anyway but at least trying not to look at his annoying sister. "Sure." With him at least paying a mild bit of attention, within fifteen minutes she had finished his face and given him some instruction about blending and blush. He even understood some of what she taught him, but most of it was like Greek. Using liner and eye shadow patterns looked more complicated to execute than he thought possible, but he could at least handle refreshing lipstick or a gloss. "See, not that tough right?" Sabrina asked as he looked at his face, still dumbfounded. "That's easy for you to say," said Bob, taking a breath. "And fun for us to do," said Vanessa, spinning his chair and then unclipping the top of his hair. "Now shush and let me work, sis." She loved getting her digs in, as she knew how much that irked him as she brushed through his hair in front of his face. She proceeded to spray it with a soft solution and then rake through it with her brush. Over and over the flat iron now glided down and then finally his vision was impaired as she dug the tail of her comb down the middle of his head. Just looking up at her in front of him was nauseating as she brushed to each side, straightening the part and she lifted his chin, checking her work. "So impatient. I'm almost there, girl," teased his sister, raising her brows and squishing her cheeks. "Five minutes and you can get dressed already, attitude queen." He squeezed his fist so tight for a moment in anger, he could feel the tension on his nail tip before calming his nerves as she rolled the thin flat iron away from his face. Just the smirk on her face was enough that he had to close his eyes to avoid confrontation, as she released one side and jumped to the other. Back and forth she went as he glanced up from time to time, as she touched at his hair with her fingers and sprayed her work liberally. It was like she was torturing him, as fifteen minutes of her fussing with him seemed more like a week, until finally he looked up, feeling her palm above his brows. "And that's how it's done," exhaled Vanessa. "You got all of it, Tara." "Yup, look up and smile Bobbi," said Tara, as he wanted to kill them. "You already got a ton of followers from the braid and the cheer hair. I think this should do even better." "You're posting this stuff!" asked Bob. "Why not?" said Vanessa. "Sabrina gets advertising money for all her makeup videos online, and hopefully I will soon too for my new hair tutorials." "Are you crazy!" said Bob, flipping out. "The school already thinks.... well I don't even know what about me anymore, and now you're telling me girls around the country are watching you braid my hair." "Well yeah, and it's around the world," said Vanessa, putting her hands on her hips. "It's youtube, not some garbage. Just get dressed, Sabrina's driving us today." "Everything ok?" said Sabrina, coming in the room texting, not used to their fighting. "Did I miss something?" "No, all's fine. Just another day in the Taylor household," Smiled Tara, getting in between them. "Just hand me that bra from the bed, Sabrina." "Sure, and you hair came out so pretty, Bobbi," said Sabrina, holding up her phone. "Smile and let me get a pic with his hair done for the close, and then I'll take a few when he's dressed ok." "Like it matters," said Bob, throwing up his hands as on went his black lacey heavily padded bra before Tara handed him matching back lacey panties. They turned, knowing the drill as he slid on his panties and it was just another day now standing in his underwear in from of women, even if he didn't know them that well. All he could do was shake his head, giving the faintest objection as Tara quickly looped his arms inside a blouse and then started buttoning it up while his sister held out a skirt for him to step into. In an instant it was zipped and he softly pushed back, sitting on the edge of his bed as he looked down, seeing Vanessa kneel and roll up a stocking between her fingers. The sensation of the soft hose gliding up his leg completely caught him off guard as Tara straightened his collar and buttoned it up at his throat. The clanging of Sabrina loading a makeup case shifted his eyes for a moment, but when the second stocking snapped mid-thigh, he was completely enthralled, lifting his legs and wiggling his toes inside them. "Bobbi, look up just a sec, please," Tara ordered, working around his neckline as he felt a shoe tightly go on his foot. "Stand up and smile Bobby!" said Sabrina, snapping a few shots of him dressed. "He is really pretty. You look hot as a Nasty Gal." "A nasty girl? Please no... don't get me involved with those girls in school, they hated me before this. They'll torture me if they think I'm trying to be one of them." Bob looked down at his shoes. "Please, I just want to blend in and get this over with. Am I going to school in heels!" The girls all shared a good laugh at his expense, having to wipe their eyes and repair some mascara, until finally they calmed down. "It's a brand, Nasty Gal, and you're adorable in it," said Tara, gaining her composure. "Relax, you won't be anywhere near those girls you're worried about, and they already know you hang with the cheer girls, so they'll never bother you anyway." "Oh ok," said Bobbi, looking down at his outfit. "But as for the heels," said Tara, looking at him and nodding. "They're only 2 and ? inches and another baby step. You've only got today, tomorrow and then the training wheels are off on my Barbie." "Did you have to remind me?" said Bob. "Like you could forget in that outfit sis! If I were you, I'd be happy she's easing you in so nicely," said Vanessa. "Now hurry up and let's get your pretty ass to class." There was really no stopping the momentum that Tara had created anyway, as she followed the plan she had laid out. Bob had experienced the angle of heels in his wedges, and even further standing during his fitting, so this was somewhere in between as he held the rail, walking down the stairs in his heels. When he got to the hallway, they handed him his purse as Vanessa flung open the front door and he stood for a moment, soaking in his image. He had already watched Sabrina make his skin look so flawless and his cheeks look a burnt rose. For his day time appearance, she blended warm sandstone into camel brown shadows and added a hint of white peach as an accent color under his brows. With charcoal grey liner and full lashes, his face looked so fresh but not a guy would miss his smile, for the first time in such full crimson red lips. His sister was quite sneaky with her flat iron, as he thought she was straightening his hair, but instead all those twists of her wrist as she straightened produced quite a different result. From an slightly off center middle part, his hair flowed down before turning outward in soft wings on each side and then spiraling down into a series of loose curls on each side across his shoulders. As he spun his head for a peek, big loose curls had been baked in around his entire head from midway down each strand until they bounced at ends of each section across his back. If his hair and makeup didn't scream popular girl, then his outfit certainly won't disappoint. He soon understood what a Nasty Gal meant, but instead of it sounding wicked or cruel, it's meaning was quite the opposite as he was dressed ever so neatly, almost prim and proper but with a flair and cute sex appeal. It was nothing outrageous, as he was in a simple long sleeve white Bonjour shirt blouse that was buttoned all the way up to a round collar. Beneath it a thin black ribbon was looped and hung ever so daintily like a girly necktie and perfectly matched the short, black flaring mini- skirt that hemmed just above mid-thigh. On his legs for the first time he was experiencing the softness of silky black thigh highs that covered most of his bare limbs, and beneath them on his feet were 2 and ? pointy toed, sling back pumps. As he stared at himself, you could just make out the black bra slightly showing through his white top, but that soon would be the least of his worries as realized he really needed to sit carefully at his desk in such a short skirt. He looked ready for a lunch date with a cute boy or an interview for a prep school, but neither would be anything he wanted on his agenda as he looked inside his black coach bag for his house key, realizing he'd have to dig through it as it was now also filled with his new cosmetics. The sound of the horn beeping on Sabrina's car broke his gaze as he fumbled for his back pack and scurried for the car, at least at some peace mentally that he could avoid the comments on the bus. "That was so cute you scurrying in heels," giggled his sister as he got in next to her and just gave her a look, already dying to kill her. "The track star running in heels is just adorable, sis." "Just be careful. Tights rip easy if you fall or with your nails, and the last thing we need is for you to skin a knee at this point," lectured Tara. "Please Vanessa, go easy on him today. He's doing so well, and I love that outfit so much on him." "You're right," said Vanessa, snuggling up to him in the back and kissing his cheek. "I'm sorry. Love you Bobbi and you do look gorgeous today." As they drove now they gossiped about just about everything and then told Sabrina all about the dresses he had tried on. What was meant as simple chatter was endlessly annoying, but that didn't matter anyway as they finally arrived at school. It was at least easier walking into school with Sabrina who was at least just as made up and dressed up like he was, as into to home room together they went. He zoned out during most of roll call, raising his hand when they said his last name and almost waiting for the day to end as it just started. He was already used to being the butt of jokes everywhere he walked, and yet to some a novelty of the school. When the ten thirty am period bell sounded, he was ready to put the quick half day behind him, knowing it was last period and there was no lunch. His feet were a little tired, not used to spending a few hours in pumps as he took his seat in the last class and then he heard the teacher spout out his name. "Ok, Schmidt, Taylor, Totten, and Wagner," said the teacher. "They'll see each of you now in room 601." He was a bit caught off guard as he followed with the group down the hall and then turned into the classroom. There wasn't much said and then he looked up, seeing the cameras and his stomach sank, realizing he was at Senior Yearbook photoshoot. "You can freshen up there sweetheart, and use a high gloss if you have it," said the Photographer's assistant, pointing to a mirror off away from the guys. "Good choice of lipstick today, Miss Taylor. You picked a pretty color that will stand out nicely in your picture." "Could I have picked a worse week for all this?" gulped Bob, walking toward the mirror and opening his purse. It was like the woman was watching over him as he opened his makeup bag, looking through all the lip colors and then found the color he was wearing. He slowly rubbed it across his lips, freshening the color and then noticed the woman peaking over his shoulder, inspecting his cosmetics. "Use the Nars high shine you have, dear," said the woman, pointing. "That will show up beautifully." He sat now glossing up his own lips, trying not to get excited as the dark haired, blue eyed girl stared back at him. He wasn't sure what else he was supposed to do, as she seemed to inspect him as he smiled nervously, noticing how the gloss picked up the whiteness in his teeth as she moved some of curls around on his shoulders. "You look beautiful, dear," said the woman. "Photographer number two please." He walked over and sat positioned on a stool as the photographer came ove,r tilting his head and fussing with his hair. He would stand next to a column in front of a green screen as she posed him and then suddenly he realized this was more than a yearbook picture, as out came the cap and gown. He wanted to piss his panties now, realizing all the money his mother spent on these poses for memories, except now his graduation pictures would feature big red lips and a head full of curls. There was little he could do but smile on command as they positioned his hat and then they took pictures of him holding a fake diploma and a bouquet of roses. Gone would be any memories of good old Bob in a cap and gown, now replaced with a pretty girl showing off her pearly whites another day closer to her prom. "Great job, dear," said the photographer, softly taking away the cap and making sure his hair was perfect before handing him a receipt. "Tell your relatives the 8x10s and coffee mugs will arrive in about four weeks, and by next week your all your proofs will be on-line for early viewing." "My relatives?" asked Bob, looking down. "Yes, your parents paid for the deluxe package for all your aunts, uncles and grandparents to receive them," said the woman. "They must be very proud, Miss Taylor and don't worry, I don't think they'll be a bad shot in the bunch. Also, tell your mother the framed portrait for your house should be there by the end of next week. Those we do right away..... Next please step up." Bob had to calm his nerves when they were finished walking down the hall and seeing the stand alone handicapped bathroom. He went inside, knowing he could kill some time and needed a second to gather himself. Inside he couldn't help but stare at his vibrant smile and couldn't help but grab himself, turned on by his outfit. Between loose curls shaking and the little bow around his neck sliding around, he could barely contain himself with his hand under his skirt. "This is so out of hand," sighed Bob, pushing down his panties. "And so nasty...I'm Nasty Gal... holy shit.. it's so hot... holy shit!" He tried keeping his moans to a minimum, but it wasn't easy and of course didn't last long. He took a second wiping a few beads of sweat from his brow in the stuffy, small bathroom, flushing the bowl and then was actually relieved that his purse was quite loaded with his unbeknownst essentials. He undid a few buttons, coating his pits in some scented deodorant and then picked at his hair, adding some spray. A fresh squirt of perfume at his neck followed, then some patting with his compact powder and he felt ready to hurry from the musty restroom. Bob took his time strolling back to class, depressed as he thought about his pictures and couldn't wait for the bell to ring. When he got outside, Tara was awaiting him as always, as he followed her, saying nothing as they headed for the waiting Uber. "Guess you figured out how to use the gloss," said Tara, as they got in. "It's pretty on you, and not too tough right?" "No, not too tough," replied Bob, embarrassed. "Good, and looks like you're learning to freshen up a little, then," said Tara, sniffing the fresh scents and just giving him a look as she patted his leg. "And aren't you glad I had Sabrina come so you'd look your best for the yearbook, and looks like you paid attention when she gave you some instructions. I'm impressed Bobbi." It was not even noon, yet he was already tired as finally the car turned into a parking lot. "What could possibly be left?" said Bob, rolling his eyes as he looked out, seeing the fancy salon. "Don't I have enough freaking curls? What more could you even do to me?" "Me .. do to you? Nothing? It's what you chose for me remember, and now it'll be imparted on you instead of course, just like we agreed to?" said Tara, never giving an inch. "Now get out and stop being such a diva. I didn't say anything about more curls today, but if that's what you want, I'm sure it can be arranged." He was confused for a moment, and then it hit him as they walked inside, seeing a woman walk by with a head full of foils. "Oh shit! Seriously?" gulped Bob. "You're not..? "Hey Bev," Tara smiled, seeing a woman hurry their way. "Tara!" She hugged the girl. "So I've got you down for Friday, and do not tell me this is him... I'm sorry I mean her." "Of course it is!" said Tara. "This is Bobbi!" "Get Out!! Oh my gaaawwdd honey!" said Beverly, hugging him. "Come, come. I'm so excited. I'm your stylist, Beverly and you're so pretty already!" "Hi," said Bob, looking around before Tara nudged him. "Thank you." "Your welcome love," said Beverly, touching his hair, inspecting it. "Now come because when I'm done with you.. oh lala princess." "You're in good hands," said Tara, giving a wave. "See you tonight, girl." "Tonight?" Gulped Bob, as Beverly was leading him towards the back. "You're leaving?" "Yup, have fun sweetie. I have so much to do myself," said Tara, blowing him a kiss and giving a wink. "Gotta go! The meter is running." As she brought him to the back, he was a bit confused, knowing he was about to get his hair done professionally, but not understanding exactly what to expect. It took just a second to wrap a cape over his outfit and have him seated near a sink before an assistant dropped his head back into the sink. It was quite relaxing at first feeling her fingers moving through his wet hair and then Beverly was awaiting him as she sat him up. He followed her from one chair to another once his chair was returned to an upright position, as suddenly he was in her salon chair with her behind him. "Excited?" Beverly asked,lifting his hair and playing with the length in the mirror. "Well?" said Bob, having no idea how to answer that and holding it higher and lower. "Nervous?" Beverly slid on long rubber gloves. "Maybe?" answered Bob, seeing her lift a bowl and swirl a brush in a solution, circling him. "Don't be," said Beverly, flipping his hair, sectioning in the back and adding in clips everywhere. "But of course you'll have to trust me like all of my gorgeous clients you've just become one of." "Ok," gulped Bob as she began saturating his hair. "Finally a virgin this week," said Beverly behind his head, lifting and painting. "That's so wonderful, Bobbi?" "Oh, I'm not exactly a," Bob started to say, seeing her being handed a thick foil from her assistant. "No, no sweetie," laughed Beverly, interrupting as she worked. "You're so adorable I can hardly take it! I didn't mean that." "Oh," said Bob, even more confused now. "I meant your hair, doll," explained Beverly, painting away from behind and adding foils. "You see you've got beautiful virgin hair, which means it's never been dyed before. It's much easier to achieve what you're after, not having been treated before but either way just sit back and I'll be making you even more beautiful now?" "Ok?" Bob replied as the entire back of his head was covered now. "It's just so much easier to double process, especially for a girl your age," Beverly lectured. "Either way your hair is so dark it'll be a long, long day together." "Like really long?" asked Bob, surprised. "I see you've already got the act down," giggled Beverly. "Sorry sweetie, but patience is important while we do the off scalp bleaching, and we'll make you comfortable through this little journey into blonde- hood together." "Ohhh," Bob sighed, realizing his fate. She really was lying as it took about forty five minutes just to bleach the back of his head. A good hundred or more foils were now folded from ear to ear in the back, and then her assistant rolled over a four-headed heater, positioning it behind his chair. It was pretty heavy as he felt the strain on his neck just to hold his head upright as heaters baked in the bleach. Every fifteen minutes or so, her assistant would check some sections and then she began rinsing out some sections in the little separate shampoo bowl. With each test, he could see process from brown to orangy-yellow for a good hour and a half, and then the trips to the sink began in earnest. Finally he was over three hours in and just the entire back looked yellow as everything else forward still hadn't been touched. Another few rinses in the sink and then the back of his head was done, being processed as everything started all over again on the front of his head now. He could see the glances as people walked by taking a peek, as his head was still dark brunette in the front and a whitish-yellow straw like color in the back. He hoped this wasn't an even more cruel joke by Tara, but soon knew that wasn't part of her thought pattern, as Beverly worked bleaching the front. Just sitting there he was getting tired as his eyes started to burn as the chemicals got closer and his scalp now began to get really hot. With another eighty or ninety foils now folded down over his face, he was again left to process as they shifted the heater and he sat in a slight discomfort as it baked its way in. He felt so self-conscious walking back and forth to get his hair washed out, even though every other client was also there to get their hair done. He wished now she had sent him there in slippers, as he had walked back and forth so many times to be washed out it was like track practice in the hot sun each time he returned to the heaters after they rinsed out his head. His stomach was growling when finally his hair seemed to be one damp creamy yellow color, except for the dark roots which Beverly now prepared to attack. Her assistant gave him a little grilled chicken wrap to fend off starvation as it was already past dinner time, as he happily was given a minute break to eat. Really, all he could think about as he chewed was that he had turned into his mother in between dye jobs, as for years he had made fun of her roots. He knew now what she went through, knowing he got his hair color from her, as this seemed like the longest day of his life as she began applying a blue substance to his hair. Until this point it was more irritation until the bleach now covered his roots, and then the tingling turned to discomfort and then he felt like his scalp was burning. "It'll be fine sweetie, and keep your eyes closed now," said Beverly, seeing his dismay and rubbing at his brows. "I always tell my customer a little fire in the roots creates some fire in the loins on the fellas once your boyfriend sees how hot you'll look when he sees you. So try not to think about it, and it'll be worth it in the end, hon." He wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry at her joke, as he tried not to think about it, gritting his teeth as the heaters cooked his roots. When finally Beverly pronounced him ready, it was the most wonderful moment as the cool water soothed his scalp and he figured he was finished. He wasn't really expecting to be back in her chair with a pale yellow mop head as on went her blow dryer gloriously taking away the dampness. Between her fingers and wide tooth brush, she made sure every strand was soft and dry and then when finished again stood behind his shoulders as he looked at her in alarm. Could this really be happening he wondered, suddenly looking more like a freak with a banana color after all these hours not really a blonde. "Easy, that was only the first part of the process, honey. We still need to do the actual coloring," said Beverly, playing with his hair. "I know you're tired and your hair held up really well. No damage. No breakage and just a little shaping will do wonders. After that then anything else we'll do to you on Friday night pre-prom. I'll text Tara to have you picked up in an hour now, and trust me you'll be even prettier once you leave than when you arrived." He could hardly believe she was serious, yet knew his color still looked bizarre as back to work she went in her gloves. Brushing on color really wasn't that tough now as she painted his hair and then sporadically worked in some foils. It was nothing like before, being done in sections as he soon sat with only foils on the outer layers as her assistant now brought him his bag. "This is your bag, right?" said Beverly, taking the purse from her assistant and bringing it around. "Yes," said Bob, hoping that meant he was almost ready to leave. "Ok, don't mind me then and there are a few tweaks necessary, ok?" said Beverly, opening the pocketbook. "Uuumm sure?" sighed Bob, watching her rifle through his bag. "It's just when you change your hair color, you have to make a few adjustments in your makeup and allow me, ok?" said Beverly, taking out items. "I'll teach you while the color works it's way in." "Sure I guess," said Bob, as she dug through his makeup case and then out came his blush brush. She placed some select items on her vanity and then a few on his lap. She opened a few pallets, looking back and forth at his face and then took a wipe from her vanity. Some careful wiping at his cheeks and then she began painting as she dipped the brush into a light pink blusher. She was quick and decisive, adding color to his cheeks and then touching above them with a bronzer. The small eye shadow applicator then followed with a series of strokes at his lids, and then she refreshed his mascara. A couple more lines at each lid with a dark liner and then it was back to the wipes at his lips. With the pencil, she quickly defined the edges and then wasted no time filling them in with a paste. When the clear gloss coated them one last time, he felt closer to his long day being over as she smiled, seemingly happy with her work, putting everything back in his purse. A few more checks of his locks every few minutes over the next half hour were like the ultimate tease with each check he hoped it was over, and then almost couldn't believe the moment arrived when she led him to the sink. Between all the shampooing, conditioning, bleaching and toning, he never felt better being rinsed out in the sink for the last time, just glad it was over as she brought him over with his head in a towel. Those last few scrubs to wipe the dampness from his hair almost felt like a million dollars, knowing he was almost done and it was a surreal moment as soft golden soggy locks tumbled down past his head. "Whoooooah," gulped Bob, as curious as he was uneasy as the marathon was in the home stretch as she took her rattail from her vanity and then combed softly through every strand. "Just the dead ends and you really need a decent cut, ok princess," said Beverly, already trimming across the hair on his back. It wasn't like she was asking anyway, as Bob well past any protest stage to begin with, as she pumped his chair higher and horizontally parted his hair. Back and forth she worked in little sections as, wet blonde hairs now slid down his cape. He watched but really couldn't tell that much as in and out of his eyes went his hair as she combed and trimmed section by section. When she straightened his head and studied each side, she finally seemed satisfied with her work as he looked up at her like he was asking for mercy, invoking a smile on her face. A quick push at the pedal and he was spun away from the mirror as she pulled the big round brush through his hair and reached over, grabbing her blow dryer. He grew anxious, almost nervous, as each section became dry and then could barely look up as in went her flat iron. She was quick and decisive, moving his head constantly and repositioning the angle pulling and turning him as around and around she went, sliding through his hair with her sizzling tool. A few pauses for trimming and staring were completely unnerving, and then finally it was like the clam before the storm as she stepped back, admiring her work. A few soft pats as she glossed on some finishing spray seemed so gentle and serene as she moved a small section here and there with her finger tips. One or two last little spritzes were like water torture as he knew it was over as she pumped the pedal, unlocking the chair. He felt sick to his stomach looking down, noticing all the blonde clippings on the floor as it began to turn and then closed his eyes for a milli-second, like he was bracing himself for the worst. "Bobbi, in my humble professional opinion, I think you're one girl that'll never regret going blonde," said Beverly, turning his chair. "Not that you weren't pretty before, but you tell me honey what a difference a great color can make." He was completely speechless, even though he had seen each step along the way he still wasn't prepared for the result. Turning and seeing himself as a gorgeous blonde had completely taken his breath away, as the girl he was staring at was almost completely unrecognizable to him. He felt emotional, touching the ends of his hair on his shoulder, amazed at what a difference a cut and color could make as she pulled off his cape. It was a simple but popular look, as his hair sat pin straight from side part sweeping across from left to right as he had to breathe in a few times, for the first time in his life feeling faint. "So worth all this time blonde-ing, right girl?" said Beverly, rubbing his shoulder to comfort him as she had seen this look before. "And certainly you're worth it Bobbi. It's so pretty on you and I'm sorry but I had to trim it just a little more than I wanted... but that won't matter with all we have to do for prom night anyway." When she held up the mirror in the back, he could tell that she sheared away three or four inches as it traversed now straight across the top section of his back instead of the middle of his shoulder blades. In the front, it sat neatly on each shoulder just past the collar bone, and a few long angles had been cut in to ever so softly frame his gleaming face. With his index finger, he reached up, slightly moving the strand that touched the edge of his lashes with his nail tip, noticing that even his thin brows had been lightened. She had certainly softened his cheeks to more of a pale pink and introduced a peach shadow onto his lids. His eyes looked bluer than blue, standing out even more now behind his dark lashes, yet his brows no longer seemed so prominent. Gone also was the darker more striking lip color, but a glistening almost natural rosy pink tint seemed so perfect as they now completely lit up his entire face. He had the look of one of the popular girls in school now in his Nasty Gal outfit and chic blonde shoulder length, straight cut. He'd be turning even more heads again tomorrow in school and there'd be not a thing he could do about it as the girl looking back at him would probably be even more talked about then the boy as a cheerleader. He'd spent almost nine hours in the salon gaining the hairdo he wished on Tara without question, now he was fully transformed into the prom girl he expected to see! Just the fact that his day was over was his only relief as he walked toward the lobby seeing his mother, sister and Tara waiting. "Oh myyyyy gaaaaawwdddd," yelled his sister as he wanted to crawl under a rock just seeing her. His mother looked stunned, with her hands covering her nose and mouth and then as she dropped them to breath, she walked right over, hugging her son. "Oh honey," sighed his mother, trying to nonchalantly wipe a tear from her eye during her embrace. "You look amazing." "Platinum like you wanted Bobbi, and with some gorgeous golden highlights weaved in to boot, and the sensational cut on her we'll chalk up as a nice bonus," said Tara, pleased with the result, touching his hair and smiling. "So do they know how to blonde you here or what?" "Seriously! Now that's an understatement," said his sister, looking over him. "So how's it feel to have a girl's haircut." "Mom!" sighed Bob, starting to get pissed. "Please Vanessa," said his mother. "You should know as well as anyone what a long day in the hair salon takes out of you. Now please just let him enjoy being beautiful without you two fighting." "Sorry sis," said Vanessa, nodding. "It does really rock on you, and now I know I can go even lighter too." "We both can," said their mother, getting next to Bob and Vanessa, looking at the three blondes in the mirror. "I'll be changing colorists and coming here in the future." The family resemblance didn't make him feel any better, but he was the blondest of all, being predominantly platinum, much lighter than his caramel to dark ombre half-blonde sister and his mother's brassy color with dark roots. When he got home, he was thankful his father was still away on business, not wasting a second as he hurried towards the staircase. "You're out of pjs, so I left you a nightgown and clean panties on your bed," said his mother as he scurried right past her. "Call me when you're changed and I'll help clean that pretty face." "I'm fine mom, and I'm going to try to wash off all this makeup myself, ok?" yelled Bob down to them as they all were talking in the kitchen as he headed into his bedroom. He could barely contain himself not even making a stink as he saw his first nightgown sitting on the bed, snatching it and hurrying into the bathroom. He just stared at the blonde in the mirror that he had watched himself become all day, and without even touching himself below he grew more aroused than ever. One stroke of his nails through his blonde locks sent a shiver down his spine, and his mouth gasping for air. He tried not grabbing himself through his panties, squeezing the vanity with his fingers instead to calm himself but just the sight of his tongue sliding across his lips as his face moved closer to the mirror almost made him lose all control. He had no will power though, unable to stop his right hand as his legs parted almost instinctively, and he couldn't help himself from reaching under. Two or three rubs through the soft lacey panties and he couldn't make it ten more seconds as he lifted his skirt up all the way and pulled his junk from inside his panties exploding into the bowl. It was the craziest day of his life, shaking his head as he flushed down his goo and leaned back in the mirror and untied his necktie ribbon. Unbuttoned his blouse and tossing away his bra cooled him down immediately, and then it felt nice wiggling out of his skirt. The sigh of relief finally taking off his heels was like he was floating on air yet flat on the floor as his feet felt so exhausted after a day in heels. A few rubs on each tootsie and off went his stockings before he happily tossed his panties in the hamper. He opened the cabinet, taking out his mother's wipes after finally stripping off his clothes, yet even naked he'd still be that blonde. He stopped just short of wiping his lips and instead dropped his short spaghetti strap nightgown over his head, tossing the wipe aside for a moment before he began wiping off his makeup. For whatever weird reason, he took a minute lifting and then dropping his hair, admiring his options and new cut before squishing his cheeks and making girly faces at his reflection, invoking some giggles. With his lips puckered, he planted a smooch on the glass, acting silly like the stupid girl he had become as exhaustion had taken over as he played the part, trying to relieve all his tension. "Hhhmmm?" sighed Bob, rolling up his eyes and squishing his cheek to one side, flipping his hair as he slid his hand against the soft silk, loving the feeling. He stepped back reading the swirling Victoria Secret insignia across his chest and felt some crazy urge, knowing something was missing. From the hamper he took out his bra, sliding it under his nightie and fastening it behind his back. A few tugs up with it holding nicely with the straps tucked inside the cups and he lifted his boobs, enthralled with his shape. He no longer could help himself, slipping his toes back into his pumps and snapping the elastic back of his sling backs over each heel. As sore as his feet were and as tired as he felt, somehow this second or maybe third wind drove to a level of hornyness he'd never known, in love with the blonde in the red silk nightgown. The only thing off in his reflection was the tent in his nightie, so he stepped forward towards the mirror blocking it's sight. Slowly and softly he caressed himself through the silk all the while staring at the blonde, taking pleasure in the view. Every gasp of his breath just invoked his tongue to protrude and something seemed so natural about watching his left index finger slide into his mouth. The slightest sound of suckling was like an alarm in his pants, as he couldn't help himself, further parting his legs. It was like a vibrator went off inside him now, feeling weak at the knees as he balanced on the tips of his heels as this day of self- indulgence just wouldn?t stop. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, moaning in pleasure as he was stroking so fast he could care less if he ripped it right off and then he exploded all of what his second wind had to offer. It took three or four deep breaths just to breath normally, and then he looked down, realizing what he had done. The silk felt so good he never took his hand off, and now the whole bottom of his nightgown was slopped with his goo. "Honey, can I come in?" knocked his mother. "It shouldn?t take that long to take off your makeup. Let me help you. You?ve been in there so long. Are you ok?" "Mom, I?m fine," Bob yelled, turning on the water. "Please, give me a minute. I can handle it and I?m going to take a shower." "You can?t wash that hair sweetie, or we?ll have a disaster on our hands," said his mother, wiggling the handle. "There?s nothing to be embarrassed about being so new at this, so just let me help you and you can go to bed." "Or maybe there is? Eeeeewww Bobbi?" said his sister, entering from the other side, becoming repulsed. "That is so fucking gross I don?t even know where to begin! Mom come around this side and I?ll help with hair or makeup but this I?m not dealing with." "Get out!" yelled Bob, shocked realizing he forgot to lock the other side. He was completely mortified as his sister walked in in her pjs to brush her teeth as they shared an adjoining bathroom between their rooms. He was frozen, barely able to move except to hold his hands over his private area in his nightgown but the damage was done as she saw the stain all up and down the silk. "Oh honey." His mother saw him go beet red and caught red handed as she pushed past her daugher. "I..I..." "Please get out," cried Bob, tearing up as she grabbed her chest, backing away. "Go to your room Vanessa and it?s fine honey," said his mother, taking a breath. "Let?s just pull this off and I?ll wash it. No big deal. Turn around." He wanted to die as she took him by both shoulders and spun him around and pulled off his soiled nightie. Without saying a word, she tossed it aside, unbuckling his bra and then wrapped a towel around his waist. When she spun him back around, she dropped down the toilet seat and patted it for him to sit down. She hated the angst on his face and said nothing, slowly but surely wiping away his makeup before standing and turning on the shower. She handed him her shower cap and then opened the vanity, pulling out a few clips. A twist or two pinning his hair back and then she stood, handing him some body wash before kissing his forehead. "See you in the morning and don?t worry about a thing," said his mother, scooping up all his clothing. "I?ll leave clean pjs and panties on the bed and whatever you do .. don?t wet the hair, blondie. Love ya." One last touch of his face softly and out she went, giving him the privacy he needed. It was a day to forget now but that would be impossible, soon imprinted in the yearbook and family albums as a red lipped curly brunette and now trapped as a horny, uninhibited blonde. He snugged on his cap like a football helmet, stepping inside the shower, soothed by the water trying to wash away his pain. In his mind, it was all so vivid in some ways, yet a blur in others as the soft body wash actually did feel soothing under the warm water, as he wished it could wash other things away. "Bobbi, I?d say you?ve been in there long enough, honey," said his mother, returning and knocking twenty minutes later. "Please honey, you need your rest." There?d be no night gown this time when he came out, instead just simple pink pants, cotton panties and a camisole top. He could care less anymore, headed to bed as hump day was over and he was so mentally exhausted that he could hump even in fantasies no more.