The Salon Assistant - Part 6 free porn video

I woke the next morning with the feeling of a hand rubbing my bottom through the silk nightdress. As I opened my eyes I found myself staring into Becky's beautiful deep, dark eyes and she gave me a long and lingering kiss. "Morning sweetie," she greeted me with. "Time for a wee bit more practice, I think." Struggling to get some focus, and deal with the slight hangover I had, I stared at her looking for a bit more guidance on what it was she wanted me to practice. Becky stroked my hair and said, "Come on, lazy bones. Let's see if that tongue of yours can get any closer to finding my pleasure bud." She then gently patted me on the bottom as an indication that I was to get up and out of bed. I swung my legs over the side and stood up. "Everything's ready for you at the bottom of the bed," Becky advised. Still somewhat in a daze I started to walk to the bottom of the bed but before I could take any more than two steps Becky scolded me slightly. "Ah, put on your slippers sweetie. Don't want your little tootsies getting cold." With bleary-eyed obedience I looked down and, after I managed to peer round the morning glory that was tenting the front of the nightdress, I noticed the feathery mule slippers that Becky had me sashaying up and down the room in before the evening's real adventures began. I cautiously slipped my feet inside the slippers and then took a few uneasy steps towards the bottom of the bed. With each step I took I could feel the silk of the pink nightdress brush against my thigh and this sensation only served to make my morning glory even more glorious. While I was walking round to stand at the bottom of the bed Becky was simultaneously sliding down the mattress until her pyjama clad legs dangled over the foot of the bed. Once I reached the bottom of the bed I noticed that some pillows had been carefully arranged on the floor. I glanced at the pillows and then gave Becky an enquiring look. Becky reacted to this by telling me, "Kneel down on the pillows, sweetie." I hesitated for a second and Becky reacted to this by giving me a more urgent, "Kneel!" On hearing this second order I lowered myself down on to the pillows with my head positioned in between Becky's splayed legs. As I crouched there I freed the bottom of the nightdress from being trapped under my knees and gently arranged it to form a small puddle of silk in front of me. The spell that this had on me was only broken by an impatient Becky asking, "Have you forgotten what I taught you last night, sweetie?" At this Becky slid her pyjama bottoms and underwear down to her ankles to reveal her expectant pussy. However, before I renewed acquaintance with that I slowly and gently stroked Becky's muscular limbs. "Mmmm, that's lovely sweetie. Every touch feels so sexy when your legs are as smooth as mine." As Becky was delighting in my touch I noticed my raspberry red nails for the first time that morning and this caused my penis to twitch slightly. I then leaned forward and pressed my lips against the inside of Becky's left thigh. She let out a slight moan of pleasure so, encouraged by this, I let me lips drift higher up until her musk started to fill my nostrils. Becky once again moaned and wriggled slightly. "Mmmm, you know where to go next sweetie," said Becky, guiding me without giving me a direct order. Nevertheless I treated this like one and, pushing her thighs further apart with my hands, I planted my lips on her denuded vagina. I could feel her moistness as my tongue parted her lips and she eased herself further down the bed so that she was more firmly engaged with my mouth. This action brought into focus the memories from the previous night and I was keen to ensure that I didn't repeat some of the mistakes I had made. Somehow, my overwhelming desire now was to avoid disappointing Becky again. I wanted my tongue to make her tingle more than her battery-powered little friend could. I wanted to be the one that made her moan and buck with pleasure. I yearned to be the one that left her in an exhausted heap on the bed. Taking on board what I had learned from my opening night performance, and the watching brief I had as Becky finished off what I had started, I eagerly set about putting those lessons into action. For fifteen or twenty minutes I attended to her, listening to every sound she made for any sign that she liked, or didn't like, what I was doing. Several times during that period it felt as if I was close to dropping her off at tingle-town but each time the bus pulled up short of the final destination. Eventually, Becky pulled away from me and, within a few seconds, I heard a familiar buzzing sound as she got her trusty toy to deliver to her what I was incapable of providing. In a mere matter of minutes Becky arched her back, let out a few expletives and then collapsed onto the bed in a satisfied heap. Disappointed at being unable to elicit this type of response from Becky I remained in a kneeling position at the foot of the bed, like a supplicant worshipping at the shrine of the satisfied woman. After a few minutes Becky rose from her prone position and edged herself down the bed again until my face, once again, was in between her thighs. She pushed my head gently to one side until it rested against the inside of her left thigh. She stroked my hair and said, "Mmmm, that was much better than last night sweetie. Maybe being on your knees is your natural position." My heart and my penis swelled at this praise. After a few minutes of resting my head on Becky's thigh she lifted my head up, looked directly into my eyes and said, "Right, time to get all of that nasty hair off of you, sweetie. Go and get showered and then wait for me in there. I'll be with you in a few minutes." I rose from my knees and, still wearing the slippers, dutifully tottered into the bathroom where I carefully stepped out of the slippers and revelled in the sensation of the silk nightdress caressing my skin as it slipped down my body and onto the floor. I then picked it up and folded it carefully before placing it back where I found it waiting for me the night before. I stepped into the shower, turned on the water and ducked my head under the stream of droplets gushing out of the shower head. As I did this my mind started to drift to the events that had unfolded since early yesterday morning when I had turned up at the salon with a defiant attitude. Now here I was, after carefully folding the pink nightdress I had slept in, meekly following her orders and getting ready to get "rid of all that nasty hair" whatever that meant. I then also recalled her final words to me before we went to sleep, "You're going to be my submissive boy in a dress." and I felt my penis start to swell under the hot jets of water that were stripping my skin of the last traces of the perfume that Becky had dabbed behind my ears and on my wrists before we headed out for dinner. 'How had I managed to let Becky take such control of me in such a short time?' I thought to myself. 'Did I want to have an overtly feminine hairstyle? Did I want my nails to be the deep raspberry red that they currently were? Did I want to be envious of, and in direct competition with, a vibrator? Did I want to be here, waiting for Becky to take even further control of where my life was heading?' There seemed to be an invisible force walking me along the path that Becky was laying out for me and I had apparently mislaid the map that would let me leave it and find my way back to the life I had a mere three weeks ago. As I was shaking my head, either in bewilderment at how things had turned out, or in a vain attempt to dislodge these thoughts from the centre of my mind, the water abruptly stopped flowing from the shower. I opened my eyes in surprise at this and, in my intense efforts to try and make sense of the events of the previous few weeks, I had clearly detached myself from the world and hadn't noticed Becky entering the bathroom and turning off the shower. "Right, dry yourself quickly," she said as she tossed one of the fluffy hotel towels at me. As I was towelling myself dry I noticed that Becky, still wearing her pyjamas, had also donned a pair of transparent plastic gloves. This immediately put me on edge so I started to scan round the room to see if anything else had been sneaked in when my mind was elsewhere. I then saw that there was now a fresh bundle of clothing that had been placed on the toilet seat and, sitting on top of those, were a couple of tubes of cream or toothpaste and a plastic spatula. Before I could process any of this Becky looked at me and said, "It was so cute how you'd carefully folded up your nightie, sweetie. I'm so happy you want to take such good care of your delicates already." I squirmed slightly at this description of the simple act of folding a piece of clothing and quickly finished drying myself. Once I had completed this I then wrapped the towel around my waist in an attempt to regain some control and reduce the level of vulnerability I was feeling. As I stood there, with the towel around my waist, Becky looked me up and down. "Hmmmm, I'm not sure that a terry-towelling skirt is one of the fashion choices I'm going to be making for you sweetie," she said as she reached over and undid the towel and pulled it away. As I felt the towel being whisked away I instinctively cupped my penis in my hands to preserve my modesty. "As much as I like the contrast of your painted nails cupping your lovely little balls, sweetie, you can let go. I saw everything I needed to see last night," said a smiling Becky. I stood motionless for a few seconds and Becky repeated herself, only this time a little more firmly. "Stop hiding your cock and put your hands out by your sides. We don't have time to waste here." On hearing the urgency, and firmness, of her tone I lowered my head and obeyed her instruction. Becky moved closer to me and, after a few seconds of close inspection, said "Give me a twirl." I stood stock still, not quite knowing what to make of this instruction before Becky clarified what she wanted me to do. "Turn round, sweetie. I need to see the back as well as the front." I did as requested and, after another few seconds of contemplation, Becky announced, "Hope I've got enough cream. Now wait there." I stood facing the bathroom wall and heard the rustle of Becky's plastic gloves and then felt a cold sensation on my legs as she started to clarify what she was expecting from me. "Right, we've got to move quickly with this stuff so I don't want any questions. Just do what I tell you to do." I then felt something plastic being dragged up the back of my calf and my thigh until it reached my bottom. The same thing happened on my other leg and, once that was completed, Becky then instructed me to "Open your legs nice and wide for me, sweetie." Remembering her earlier instruction I did this without hesitation and held my hand out against the tiles on the bathroom wall to stop myself from falling over. Shortly after this I felt the cold sensation of something being squirted onto my bottom quickly followed by Becky's gloved hands spreading it over each cheek. I then felt her hand pull one of my cheeks to the side slightly and was taken by surprise when her other hand slid into the crack to spread the cream deep into the crevice. "Right, turn round," said Becky. I pulled my legs together and turned round to match the urgency of the request. As soon as I did this Becky squeezed some cream onto my shins and used her plastic spatula to cover both of the lower sections of my legs. Wasting no time she then repeated the act on both of my thighs. This level of intimate contact from Becky had the inevitable outcome and my penis started to swell. Becky noticed this and gave it a gentle tap with her plastic spatula and declared, "Someone's excited about losing all of their nasty hair I see." Becky then squeezed some of the cream out onto her gloved hand and started to spread it around my groin and over my balls. This caused my penis to throb and twitch and I was relieved when Becky announced that she was finished with my lower half and quickly, and efficiently, started to spread the cream all over my chest. She then barked out an order for me to hold both of my arms out to the side so that she could spread some cream under my armpits. My armpits seemed to be the last part of my body she wanted to cover with this foul-smelling cream. Once Becky had finished spreading the cream in there, she stood back to admire her handiwork. In a very short period of time she had completely covered my torso and my lower body. This respite from Becky's wandering hands freed up my mind to concentrate on other things, which soon became apparent wasn't a positive development. It was at this point that I started to notice a burning sensation on the back of my calves. This burning sensation quickly developed into a full blown forest fire as my legs, chest and groin started to generate more heat than an erupting volcano. "Owwww, what is this stuff?" I pleaded. "Not long left, sweetie," Becky said as she looked at her watch. "it's burning me," I stressed. "It'll be worth it when you see how gorgeous your legs look. No pain, no gain, sweetie," she said, apparently fully aware of the agony that she was putting me through. I stood in the shower for another couple of minutes, twitching and hopping up and down in a vain bid to defeat the pain through interpretive dance. Then, just as I felt as if I couldn't take any more, Becky turned the shower on again. I needed no further instruction at this point and immediately ducked under the shower and started to rinse the cream from every single inch of my body. The feeling of relief as the lukewarm water doused the flames that seemed to be licking every inch of my body was so strong that I didn't even notice all of my leg and pubic hair being stripped from my body as the life-saving water circled the drain. It was only when Becky, once again, turned off the shower and handed me a towel with an instruction to gently dab myself dry that I looked down and was confronted with the full power of the cream. I didn't recognise my penis as it looked considerably bigger in its hairless state. Becky must have, somehow, noticed that I was contemplating this fact as she quickly brought me back to earth when she declared, "It only looks bigger, sweetie." I then started to dry myself in my usual fashion but abruptly halted that approach when it became clear that my legs were still a bit tender from the actions of the cream. Becky saw me grimace and admonished me with, "I said dab yourself dry." This time I followed her instructions to the letter and gently dabbed the towel against each part of my tender skin until I had removed every water droplet from my body. "Finished?" enquired Becky. "I hope so," I said as I looked on with a bit of trepidation as she removed her plastic gloves and squeezed some cream into her hands. Becky noticed the hesitancy in my voice and reassured me with, "This cream is much nicer than that other stuff. It'll calm everything down." She then started to gently massage the cream into my calves before working her way up to my thighs and it soon became clear that she was wrong about this cream calming everything down. It certainly had a soothing effect on my skin but the feel of her soft hands rubbing against my smooth legs had my penis pointing to the heavens and saluting the god that had delivered me into the hands of this woman. The heavenly praise from my genitals became even more pronounced when she cupped my balls and gently caressed them with the palm of her hand to dispense her soothing balm. It wasn't long though before my mind switched from revelling in her touch to ensuring that I retained control and stopped, where possible, showing her were how much I was enjoying this moment. It was at this juncture when Becky told me to face the wall and spread my legs slightly, just like before. With a mixture of disappointment and hesitancy I reluctantly turned round, moved my legs apart and and braced myself against the wall. Becky then started to massage the soothing cream into my buttocks in a series of circular motions and I closed my eyes and gently bit my lower lip as I felt my penis pulse slightly. I was then taken aback when, in one of these circular passes across my cheek, the tip of one of Becky's fingers strayed briefly inside my hole. This caused me to arch my back and brace myself against the wall as every part of my being fought to avoid splurging against the tiles. However this battle was lost when Becky repeated this motion what seemed like countless times until I could hold it back no more. In three brief spurts it was over and I rested my head against the wall in a mixture of exhaustion, embarrassment and elation. I stood like that for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality would only have been a few seconds, when Becky gently kissed my left buttock and said, "Right, that's you had enough fun. Get yourself cleaned up and dressed and come into the room." At that Becky exited the bathroom and left me standing in the shower to try and regain my composure. After a few seconds I stepped out of the shower, ran a facecloth under one of the taps and then used it to clean my cock. After doing this, and towelling myself dry, I turned my attention to what Becky had left out for me to wear. On top of the bundle was the pink kimono robe she wore the day before as she was getting ready for dinner. I picked this up and held the soft silk against my cheek. When I did this I realised her scent was still on the robe and I inhaled this ithrough the deepest breath I could muster. Once I had satisfied my olfactory cravings I turned my attention to what was sitting underneath the robe. It initially looked like a vest and pant set but, when I picked it up, I realised that I had misgendered this set of underwear. This was not a vest and pant set, it was an ivory and pink camisole and knicker combination. The pink was in the form of a printed rose pattern and there was some intricate lacework across the waist band of the knickers and the top of the camisole. These were as delicate and as feminine as you could get and felt incredibly soft to the touch. I must have spent several minutes gently rubbing the fabric against my smooth chest before I decided to put them on. When I slid the soft knickers up my newly shorn legs the feeling of that soft, silky material gliding up my smooth skin stirred something deep inside me that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It felt as if my consciousness had been transported into another physical form. I was feeling sensations that would never encroach into the male world occupied by my real body. This feeling was heightened even further when I slipped the camisole over my head and felt the soft silk rub against my nipples. I closed my eyes and started to rub the floral silk against my body and, in what seemed like no time at all, I felt my penis start to swell again. This caused me to open my eyes and, when I saw the bulge stretching and deforming one of the open pink roses printed on the knickers it aroused me even further. At this point I decided that I needed to take back some control of this situation. I stopped caressing the underwear and sat down on the toilet seat to slip into the feathery mule slippers. Unfortunately as I was doing this my hand accidentally brushed against one of my hairless calves and this led to a few seconds of gently caressing my soft and smooth legs with the palm of my hand. This did nothing to quieten the erection that was tenting the front of knickers so I stood up and tried to walk off the feeling of unbridled pleasure and indulgence that I had been enjoying since Becky left the bathroom. Unfortunately as I was doing this I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and it left me open-mouthed in amazement. I had slicked back my damp hair and, wearing an ivory and pink camisole set and white mule slippers I simply didn't recognise myself in that reflection. I stood there open-mouthed at the feminine silhouette that was staring back at me as the heel on the slippers caused my bottom to protrude slightly inside the flared knickers. I was feeling very confused as Becky knocked at the door and rebuked me with, "What's taking so long? We don't have all day." This was enough to make me shake off my confusion and put on the kimono robe and fasten the tie around my waist. The feeling of the soft fabric of the robe, pushing down against the silk of the camisole set, which was rubbing against my silky smooth skin, sent a shiver of excitement through my body that momentarily overwhelmed me and caused a feeling of temporary paralysis. However, after a few seconds of being frozen to the spot, I managed to shake it off and opened the bathroom door. As I exited and walked towards Becky I could feel the hem of the robe brushing against the back of my thighs. The cumulative effect of all of these sensations was like being immersed in a giant vat of silk. I was drowning, but in the most glorious manner possible. "Well look at you," said a smiling Becky as she looked me up and down. "I wish I had legs as gorgeous as yours. They look much sexier without all of that horrible hair." I blushed at this compliment but my chest also swelled with pride at receiving it; as did one other part of my body. Becky then moved to one side to reveal that she had positioned a chair in the middle of the room. Draped across the back of this chair was the pink styling cape from Becky's salon. Becky tapped the seat of the chair and said, "Sit down, sweetie. I need to dry your hair. Can't have you looking like that in front of all of these hairdressers." Becky smiled and theatrically whisked the styling cape from its resting position. As I sat down I instinctively tucked the gown underneath the back of my legs. Performing this action took me a little bit by surprises and as I did this Becky swept the cape around me and fastened it at the back of my neck. I was now, once again, a prisoner of the pink princess cape. The blood rushed to my face, and other parts of my body, as the feeling of nylon layered on top of the soft and silky touch of the kimono and camisole set started to overwhelm me. "I thought you only needed one of these capes if you were cutting hair?" I enquired of Becky. "What? Who told you that? Professionals always use a cape, even for a quick style and dry," retorted Becky. "You don't want to get hair on my lovely robe, do you?" "Oh, ok," I mumbled. Becky plugged in her hairdryer and started to brush and dry my hair in the manner that I had become all too familiar with in the last few weeks. First of all she swept her large cylindrical brush through my damp hair and then, using a combination of her fingers and the brush teased my hair underneath the hot air from her dryer. The warm air caressing my neck and blowing into my ear added to the uncomfortable feelings of pleasure that I was having. After several minutes Becky turned off her dryer and stood back a bit to inspect her work. Following a moment of thought she moved back towards me and teased slightly the fringe that had been brushed out over the left side of my face. She then stepped back again to inspect her adjustments before picking up a can of hairspray and dousing my hair in enough spray to hold my hair tight in a hurricane. Becky then stepped back again to inspect her artistry and, from the look on her face, she clearly thought something wasn't quite right. She then moved towards me, leaned in and whispered in my ear, "I think you're looking a wee bit pale today, sweetie. Maybe you're a wee bit hungover. Or maybe it's because all of your blood has rushed into one part of your body," she said as she reached out and caressed my swollen penis through the triple layers of nylon and silk. I squirmed at her touch, but not enough to make her break her contact with my swollen member. "Do you want me to see if I can put a wee bit of colour back into your cheeks?" Reduced to a quivering bag of compliance by her touch and proximity I nodded my assent. Becky smiled and said, "Good. Let's see what I've got in my bag of tricks then." Becky let go of me, picked up her make-up bag and started to look through it. On seeing this my heart sank immediately as, whatever I had agreed to, undoubtedly involved the application of more make-up to my face. "Ah, this is what I need." declared Becky as she took a small bottle of beige liquid out of her bag. "A good foundation base will have you looking much healthier." Becky unscrewed the silver cap from the bottle, placed a small sponge over the neck of the bottle and upended it once or twice. After a quick inspection of the sponge she then immediately started dabbing and dragging the sponge against my nose. As soon as she did this my nostrils filled with a strong, artificial smell that wasn't entirely unpleasant, but wasn't a delight either. This action of holding the sponge against the bottle, upending it a few times and then transferring the liquid deposit from the sponge onto my face was repeated numerous times as Becky sought to cover my entire face and neck with this "foundation base". She even applied it to my eyelids, forcing me to hold my eyes shut in the process. As this liquid was drying on my skin it started to feel like I was wearing a very thin mask. Once Becky had finished with the bottle and sponge she placed them back into her make-up bag and then removed what looked like a pencil. Startled by this sight I said, "What's that?" "It's an eyebrow pencil, sweetie. The foundation has covered up your eyebrows so I need to highlight them a bit so you don't look weird." "My eyebrows? Do you have to?" I pleaded. "You don't want to look as if you don't have any eyebrows, do you?" I reluctantly shook my head before she pushed it back slightly and started to restore my eyebrows. This simple act was starting to fill me with dread at what I was going to look like. This feeling was made even worse when it dawned on me that this exhibition was in broad daylight and, according to Becky, was very popular amongst hairdressing professionals in Scotland. Then things took a turn for the worse after Becky had finished doing my eyebrows and announced, "Okay, now for the lips." "What? What do you mean, lips? I'm not wearing lipstick," I stated. "Of course not, sweetie. Just a wee bit of lip gloss to stop them from looking so dry. Now purse your lips a wee bit for me, like this," Becky said before demonstrating the shape she wanted me to form with my lips. I hesitated for a few seconds before Becky reassured me with, "This is the finishing touch. Don't you want your lips to look shiny and kissable? For me?" I very hesitantly formed my lips into the pout she was looking for and she then took a slender pink container, unscrewed the lid and, using the wand that was attached to the underside, spread the lip gloss on my lips. Unused to this sensation I licked my lips and got a faint taste of cherry from my new lip coating. Becky saw this, leaned in and, stroking my cock through the pink nylon and silk layers, whispered in my ear, "I'm the one that should be licking my lips, sweetie. You look good enough to eat. And maybe I will later." She then slowly pulled away from me and said, "Right, I'd better go and get myself ready. Don't want you looking prettier than me. I've left some clothes on top of the bed over there. Get yourself ready when you've calmed down a bit," she said as she stroked my cock for one last time through the nylon before heading off to the bathroom. I sat frozen, underneath the princess styling cape, waiting for the maelstrom of emotion, lust and sheer bewilderment that was swirling around in my head to quieten. Oh, and I was also waiting for my erection to subside. This took a bit longer than anticipated as the feeling of the make-up on my skin, the soft smacking sound my lips made every time I opened and closed them and the sensual luxury of the camisole set I was wearing kept me at peak arousal until I finally managed to regain an element of control over mind and body. I reached around to unfasten the styling cape from my neck and got up from the chair. As I stood there, with the cape in my hand, it briefly occurred to me to destroy it as it was the symbolic gateway to the road that Becky was currently leading me down. Underneath it I felt powerless and helpless. This piece of gaudy nylon had somehow stripped away 18 years of masculinity and delivered me into Becky's controlling hands. The cape, however, seemed to exert its power once more and I neatly folded it and placed it on the bed before I tottered off to stand in front of the mirror. When I was there I couldn't quite believe what was staring back at me. It was definitely me but my face had taken on some new qualities as a result of the cosmetic enhancements that Becky had made. The foundation had given my face a much flatter, more even colour and my lips were shinier and much plumper than before. However it was the touch-up on my eyebrows that seemed to influence my new look the most. My eyebrows were now darker, more prominent and seemed to have been extended out slightly. My attention then turned to what I was wearing, with the pink kimono robe concealing an ivory and pink camisole set. I looked down and saw the white feathery mules on my feet and had to admit this person looking back at me from the other side of the glass was not a boy. However they clearly weren't a girl either. With this thought running through my mind I moved away from the mirror and decided that it was time to inspect the clothes that Becky had picked out for me. I undertook this task with a mixture of dread, curiosity and excitement. The first thing I noticed were the shoes that she had selected. They were a pair of navy blue trainers with two large, pink flowers printed along the sides of the trainers. The thick, ribbon style laces had soft gold tips and the heel had the same soft, gold finish. A tiny golden bow detail at the back of the heel finished off the whole look. These were girls' trainers, there could be no doubt about that. My attention then turned to the clothes that the trainers were sitting beside. On first inspection these appeared to be a simple shirt and pair of trousers but the experience from the previous night had taught me that this was unlikely to be the whole story. I unfastened the pink kimono robe, slipped it off and folded it neatly on the bed. I then stepped out of the mule slippers and proceeded to unfasten the buttons on the shirt and was immediately struck by how soft and smooth the fabric was. This became even more apparent when I put it on and it felt so soft and silky against my skin and camisole. I then picked up the navy blue trousers and opened them out and noticed how baggy they seemed to be. There was also a belt that was made of the same material as the trousers and this fed through a scrunched up waist band. I sat down on the bed and slid my left and then right legs into the trousers and stood up to pull them up. When I did this I noticed, to my horror, the trousers were much shorter than I expected. The bottom of the trousers were at mid-calve level and they were extremely wide and baggy. 'These trousers don't fit me,' I thought to myself. There was also no zip or button to fasten them so, to stop them falling down, I had to wrap the extremely long belt several times around my waist before tying it. Once I had secured the trousers I sat down on the bed again and put on the floral trainers. These were surprisingly comfortable to wear but it would be clear to anyone with eyes that I was wearing girls trainers. Unable to put off the inevitable any longer I decided to renew my acquaintance with the mirror. When I saw my reflection I was simultaneously aroused and unnerved by it. There was no hiding from the fact that the shirt I was wearing wasn't a shirt; it was a blouse. From the soft and silky ivory fabric, to the billowing sleeves and the pockets over each breast, this was a piece of fully feminine attire. However this was entirely in keeping with the trousers that I had tucked the blouse in to. These were loose fitting and baggy and the short length gave a slight glimpse of my hairless legs. There was no doubt that these were one-hundred per-cent girl too. 'Was Becky really wanting me to walk around in broad daylight like this?'I thought. As the doubts about this entire adventure were starting to rattle around in my mind and body, pushing out any pleasurable sensations or feelings that the experience had stirred in me, Becky emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing a burgundy and cream zebra print blouse and a tight burgundy leather skirt that sat just above a pair of burgundy boots that zipped up to just below her knees. Her look was finished by the deep, deep burgundy shade of lipstick that made her lips look inviting and intimidating at the same time. On exiting the bathroom Becky glanced in my direction and immediately asked, "What have you done to your culottes, sweetie?" "My what?" I asked. "Your culottes. Your trousers," she replied. "Nothing," I stated. "That's not how you fasten that belt. Come here and I'll fix it for you," she ordered. I hesitantly moved across to stand in front of her. When I got close enough she reached out and undid the belt. She then carefully made sure that the left and right side of the belt hung down evenly at the front before proceeding to tie it in the flounciest, most feminine bow that you could imagine, with the two ends dangling down well past the crotch area. "There. That's much better," Becky said. "And the ends cover up any bulges down there in case you can't control yourself if you catch a glimpse of yourself in one of the mirrors at the show." I blushed at this thought and then pleaded, "You don't expect me to walk around all day like this, do you?" "Of course not." Becky took my hand and slipped a large silver bangle onto my wrist and, without letting go of my arm, looked me straight in the eye and said, "Now you're ready to be walking around all day. Just got to get you smelling as gorgeous as you look and we'll be ready to check out." At that Becky took a spray out of her handbag and liberally sprayed it onto my neck and down the front of the blouse. "This one's a bit cheaper than the perfume you wore last night so I can be a bit more generous with it. Still smells lovely though, don't you think sweetie?" I blushed at this comment, and also at the pleasure I was taking from the scent that was wafting into my nostrils. "I said it still smells lovely. Don't you think?" Becky repeated. Shocked by her insistence at getting an answer to this question I stuttered, "Y...y..yes Ma'am." "Right, I'll just put these last few things in my suitcase and then we can head downstairs and check out," said Becky as she hurriedly looked round the room to see what else she needed to pack away. A few minutes later we were out of the hotel room and standing waiting for the lift to take us to the ground floor. I was fidgeting nervously when the doors of the lift opened and, standing inside, were the husband and wife who had endured such an uncomfortable ride to the ground floor with us the night before. Becky noticed immediately that we would be sharing this final journey with them again and greeted them with, "Oh, hello again." As the doors of the lift closed Becky broke the uncomfortable silence with a smile and by saying, "I'm so relieved Stephie has chosen a different outfit from me today. It's so awkward when you go out for dinner and your lover is wearing the same outfit as you, don't you think?" This comment set my cheeks ablaze and I stared at the floor for the rest of the descent. However this was nothing compared to the discomfort I felt during the taxi journey to the exhibition. To make some small talk the taxi driver asked "Where are you ladies off to?" Becky immediately rebuked him with "Oh, we're not. At least not both of us. I'm a lady but little Stephie here is all man, aren't you sweetie?" I could only nod in stunned silence at this comment. The rest of the journey was horrible. We travelled in complete silence and I couldn't help noticing that the taxi-driver glanced in his rear view mirror every few seconds to catch a glimpse of the prime specimen of masculinity that was sitting in his back seat wearing a blouse, culottes, foundation and raspberry red nail polish. I was so glad when we got out of that taxi that I didn't give a single thought to the unlimited potential for exposure and humiliation in front of the thousands of people that would be attending the exhibition. I was only when we were inside the exhibition centre and noticed the number of people mulling around that I quickly realised the sheer scale of this event. There must have been thousands of people here. Thousands of people who were going to see me dressed like this. Thousands of people who would probably be asking themselves 'Is that a boy in a blouse?' As these thoughts were starting to grip me I felt Becky push my fingers apart and insert her hand into mine. She gripped me tightly and whispered in my ear, "You look gorgeous, sweetie. Everyone's going to be so jealous." Becky then started to lead me round each zone in the exhibition and it soon became clear that the primary aim of this exhibition seemed to be to provide vendors of hairdressing supplies and, other beauty related products, with an opportunity to peddle their wares to a room full of hairdressing professionals. We stopped at the stall of a seller of curlers of all shapes and sizes and, after briefly flicking through his catalogue of supplies, Becky shook hands and placed an order with the man. On completing the deal Becky brushed her fingers through my hair and said "You'd look so cute with a head full of curlers." We then moved on until Becky excitedly started dragging me over to a stall she had noticed. "Oh, I'm so glad they're here again. You're going to love this." As we approached the stall I realised that they were selling hairdressing capes and a shudder of excitement and trepidation travelled from my head down into the toes of my girly trainers. "This is where I got your favourite styling cape, sweetie. Let's see if they've got anything even cuter than that," Becky said as she continued to drag me towards the stall. There were dozens and dozens of multi- coloured styling capes hanging on three rails around the stall and Becky let go of my hand to check out every single one of them. After she had flicked through the first couple of dozen or so capes Becky's excitement appeared to have dipped dramatically until, suddenly, she let out a squeal of pleasure that startled the vendor and caused some of the passing crowd to stop to check out what had caused such an expression of delight. "Oh this is so darling. Quick, over here Stephie, sweetie. You've got to try this on for me." There were a few sniggers as the watching crowd switched their attention from Becky to me. As I approached Becky she held out her hand and indicated for me to spin round. I did as I was instructed and, as soon as my back was turned to her, I felt the familiar swish of a hairdressing cape being wrapped around me and then fastened at the neck. I glanced up briefly and saw a couple of the passers-by nudging each other and laughing. As I looked back down at the cape it didn't seem to be too bad. Certainly nothing that would have merited the type of laughter that was coming from the onlookers. The cape was mostly white with a black collar. However, on closer inspection, there also appeared to be a swathe of pink down the centre of the cape. 'What is that?' I thought to myself. Becky stepped back slightly and then held her hands out to her side and instructed me to "Hold out your hands, Stephie, honey. I've got to get a picture of this." I did as I was told and a smiling Becky used her phone to get the snap she was looking for. She then walked towards me and showed me the picture she had just taken. The swathe of pink was actually a girl's body, in a sparkly pink evening gown wearing a pair of pink and blue heels. On top of this body was my head, very carefully positioned to give the appearance that I was actually wearing this dress. "It's so cute, isn't it? And there's another one with a full ballgown. I think we've found your new favourite styling capes." I blushed as the laughter of the passers-by grew louder. Becky, however, seemed oblivious to this and announced to the sales person, "I don't think he wants to take it off. I'll have ten of each style if you let me take away the two you have on display now." The deal was quickly closed and the two styling capes were bagged up and handed over to me by the grinning sales person. As we were walking away from the stand a smiling Becky whispered in my ear, "That's you got your first two dresses now, sweetie." We then spent the rest of the time wandering from sales stand to sales stand with Becky apparently set on a spending spree to restock her entire salon. She ordered new hairdryers, new hair straighteners and curling tongs, replenished her stocks of hair dye and even bought new ear piercing equipment to open up new side-line for the salon. Becky seemed to be in her element, especially when we stopped to watch one or two of the hairstyling demonstrations and she gave me a running commentary of what the hairdresser was doing and why she could do it so much better. Her mood changed however when we were standing at one of these exhibitions and Becky was greeted by an old friend. "Fancy seeing you here," Becky's friend said as they gave each other a slightly awkward hug. Her friend was slightly taller than Becky and a bit more glamorous. There was something fascinating, something intriguing about this woman and I was inexplicably drawn to her. "Shouldn't be a surprise. I come here every year," replied Becky. "Of course. How could I forget that?" The woman then spotted me standing silently as these two old friends caught up. She quickly focused her gaze on me but remained in conversation with Becky. "Who's this delightful creature? Have you got yourself a new assissytant?" "This is Stephie, my new salon assistant," Becky replied tersely. 'Well aren't you a delight, sweetie? Here," she said as she thrust her business card into my hand. "If you want to learn how to become a proper assissytant I've always got room at my salon for a precious little angel like you." She then kissed me on the cheek and said her farewell to Becky. Even the foundation I was wearing didn't cover up how furiously I was now blushing. "Lovely bumping into you again, Becky. We should catch up sometime." The woman then walked away as quickly as she had appeared and, after a few seconds of inaction, Becky took my hand without warning and said, "Let's go." As we were leaving the exhibition centre I took a look at the business card that had been thrust into my hand and then asked, "Who was that?" "Remember that ex-partner I told you about that took half of my business?" I nodded. "That was her. That was Geri." I looked at the card again and asked, "Does she have a speech impediment?" "What?" I repeated my question. "Does she have a speech impediment?" Becky looked at me, shook her head in bemusement and asked, "No. What makes you say that?" "Well," I reasoned, "she kept calling me your assissytant." Becky smiled and shook her head. "Don't pay any attention to her. She was just trying to be funny." Within thirty minutes of leaving the exhibition centre we were sitting on the train as it sped towards Glasgow. The journey home was very different to the one we took to get here though. Becky seemed to make it her mission to keep me aroused for the entire journey as she constantly fondled me, nibbled my lobe and whispered a mixture of suggestive and embarrassing comments in my ear. It worked and was perhaps the most stressful journey I had ever been on as I fought to preserve the cleanliness of my silky underwear. It was a huge relief when the train pulled into the station and all of the other passengers started to disembark. I waited for them all to get off, and for my erection to subside enough to be able to walk without crouching, before I got up to get off. Once we got off the train we started to head towards Becky's car and I asked, "Are we going to the salon first?" "No time for that, sweetie. I'm just going to drop you off at your house and then I'm going straight home to soak in a lovely warm bath." "What? But I need to get changed before I go home," I protested. "Why? You look lovely." "But...but...but...these are girls' clothes. I can't let my mum see me like this." "Don't worry about your mum, sweetie. She knows," Becky said rather cryptically. "She knows? Knows what?" "She knows about you. She knows about us." This statement added no further clarity to the situation and I was now confused even further. My mother seemed to know something about me that I didn't know. However the conversation stopped abruptly when we arrived at the car and Becky instructed, "Right. Put everything in the boot of the car and get in, sweetie. And take special care of your lovely new styling capes." I sat in silence for most of the short journey home. Only speaking to give Becky some directions when she needed them, as I tried to work out what it was that my mother apparently knew about me and why she wouldn't be shocked to see me wearing a blouse and a pair of culottes. As the car pulled up outside my house Becky announced, "There you go. Safe and sound. I'll see you on Tuesday night, sweetie." I was slightly taken aback by this and enquired, "Tuesday? But I'm not due back at work until Saturday?" "Oh this isn't work. This is pleasure, sweetie. I've booked us in for our first ballroom dancing lesson." "Ballroom dancing? No. I can't. I won't," I said. "Why not?" asked Becky. "You'll be the prettiest boy there." I blushed again at this thought and started to protest, "But, but..." Becky interrupted and unbalanced me by asking, "Don't you want to be my boyfriend, sweetie?" Stunned by this question I could only blurt out, "What?" "Don't you want to be my boyfriend? Remember when I told you I had my eye on someone and that they were showing promise?" "Uh huh," I replied. "Haven't you guessed that someone was you, silly? You're the one I had my eye on. You're the one I want. I told you I had very special tastes, sweetie. I love pretty boys who allow me to make them even prettier." "But....but....but I'm not a pretty boy," I protested. "Oh but you are, sweetie. You're a scared pretty boy who needs me to show you how pretty you can be," Becky said in a calm and reassuring tone as she caressed my cheek with her hand. "Now what's it to be? Are we going dancing as girlfriend and boyfriend on Tuesday?"