Catherine and Callie
- 1 year ago
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The Day It All Changed - Part 1 free porn video
This is my first attempt at writing a story. It involves a young teenage
boy being forced into a situation that will break his male ego by his
best friend. If this is not your thing, please do not read. If it is, I
would be very thankful for feedback on how to improve. I have a part 2
and 3 in my mind, and will type them out if people appreciate this story
- please let me know!
The day it all changed.
By Paula Woman
I sat there terrified. I didn't dare say a thing, the magnitude of what
was about to happen, and its consequences were something I could not get
my head around. Vanessa sat in the chair next to me wearing my baseball
cap and looking at me with a look that varied between threatening and
compassionate. She was relieved that she was not sitting where I was,
and was not ready to let the truth out and be condemned. She knew what I
was about to go through, and knew what it would do to me. She knew she
was meant to be sitting there, and that she had maneuvered things so it
was I who took her place. I do not know if she fully understood what
this would do to me.
The stylist looked over at Vanessa and said, "Don't worry young lad. We
will make sure you can get back out to play with your friend soon, and
she will be much prettier when she does. You won't have to hang around
with a tomboy anymore."
It had all started much earlier that dreadful day. I was spending the
weekend at Vanessa's house. We did this often. Vanessa, being a complete
tomboy was never into playing with any of the girls in our class, and
was happier playing with us. She always had to prove she belonged
playing with the boys - as most girls her age, she had developed faster
than us boys at that point, and was taller and stronger than many of us.
Our games and sports would often turn rough, and she would use the
opportunity to show that she could overpower us, and was as strong as
any of us boys. She was particularly vindictive to us whenever we
suggested in some way that she should be engaged in more girly things.
Her mother could never fully accept this, and made it her life's goal
to, in her words, make a sweet girl out of Vanessa. There were some
things that she would impose; as much as Vanessa had asked to have her
hair cut short, her mother refused this and made her keep it long to the
middle of her back. She wore it in a loosely formed pony tail, attached
quite low and secured by the most discrete elastic she could find. For
different reasons, I too found myself with hair longer that I would
want. I was the youngest of three siblings - my mother and both my
sisters had hair that was tight, curly and always dry. Mother's
frustration was evident, even though she tried to not make it apparent.
It was a surprise to my mother when I was born with straight, shiny hair
with thick strands and a natural volume that made her and my sisters
jealous. She never let me cut it short like the other boys - she said it
would be a crime to do so.
Vanessa and I both suffered with the penance of this long hair, and felt
it did not belong on us. Unlike me though she was never teased about it
by our friends. It was normal for a girl to have hair that long - it was
she who felt it did not belong to her. For me though it was a source of
much teasing and bullying. Both the girls and boys teased me about my
girly hair. My mother just said they were jealous. The fact that she
would brush it with dozens of strokes every morning before school so it
shone and showed its volume did not help. I always carried an elastic in
my pocket to tie it up when I got to school, as she would not let me tie
it into a low pony at home.
This weekend Vanessa's mother seemed to have had enough of her tomboyish
tendencies. I had seen some of these attitudes before - a few months ago
she had pulled Vanessa up from the ground as we were playing Legos and
dragged her to her room. I heard some shouting and tears - but knew I
should not intervene. A little later Vanessa came back wearing a
sundress and carrying a doll. Her eyes were red, and she stared at the
ground with a mixture of shame and anger. Her mom told me that it was
time that she dressed like the little girl she was, and played like that
to. She told me I could keep on playing Legos if I wanted, but that she
had to play with her doll. I felt sorry for her, and as embarrassing as
it seemed, I joined her in her Barbie play. I tried to be nice and tell
her she looked very pretty. She looked at me with a piercing angry look,
and said she did not want to look pretty, and that if I liked the dress
so much I should wear it. I went silent. Both because I felt sorry for
her, but also because I truly feared her offer was a true threat and
that she was strong enough to see it through.
But like I said before, this morning it was clear she had had enough for
some reason. We had been out playing soccer late the night before, and
come back into the house trailing mud. Vanessa had managed to trade her
light lavender my little pony shirt for a very cool white t-shirt with
an image of our favorite arcade game Street Fighter. Some poor boy who
lost an arm wrestle he was sure to win went home in her my little pony
shirt, head hung low in shame as he walked through the mall. From there
we went out to play soccer and were caught in the rain. When we got home
her mother exploded when she saw us. "You look like a savage boy, what
is that awful tee-shirt that you are wearing? Why are you covered in
mud? Why can you not come back from the mall with a nice new earring, or
skirt or anything else a girl your age should go to the mall for. I have
had it with you - you are not a boy, and need to stop behaving like one."
We were sent unceremoniously to bed after a long shower.
This morning when she got us out of bed it was clear that there was some
change in the horizon. Her mother apologized to me that today would not
be a fun day for me, but that she needed to do something about all this.
I sat there in silence not knowing what to do. "Vanessa, I have a game
of golf away this weekend that I cannot cancel, so I trust that you will
do as I tell you. I have called Jessica at my salon that you have never
accepted to set foot in and told her to expect you. She is going to
finally give you a proper girl's hairstyle. You are almost 13 now and it
is about time. You are the only girl in your class who does not have a
proper hairstyle. You are to go there at 10am sharp. You are not to
complain. I have told her what I want done. I have also told her that if
you do not show up, she is to call me. I do not plan to be home until
tomorrow night, so if I get a call from her and find out that you kicked
up a fuss, that you refused anything or worse, that you did not show up
- I will come back home and you will not like what you have coming.
Priscilla will be over at 6 to spend the night with you both and make
sure everything is ok."
She proceeded to tell me she was sorry that she had to do this on a
weekend that I was staying over, but she promised she would bring us
both a small gift from her weekend trip, and that once her salon
appointment was done, we would be able to come home and play.
Vanessa was in tears. She tried to argue with her mother to no avail.
She asked her mother what Jessica was going to do to her hair, and her
mother refused to tell her. "You'll find out when you get there, and
when you look in the mirror and finally see a beautiful girl staring
back at you."
She left the house with a small overnight back and her golf clubs.
Vanessa broke down crying. She was inconsolable, and I just did not know
what to do or say. That is when, while trying to do the right thing I
sealed my fate by saying the one thing I should not have said: "It
really is ok Vanessa, it's only a hairstyle and I am sure it will look
lovely, plus my mom and my sisters always talk about how wonderful it is
to have your hair done in a salon - I am sure you will love it." She
stared at me with an anger I had never seen in my friend's eyes. I could
not tell that moment if she hated me, the circumstances she was in or
both. She jumped at me and punched me in the stomach, hard. I gasped for
air and had trouble taking any in. She hit me again, this time on my
side, by my kidney since I had turned away in a panic.
"Only a hairstyle? Do you think I want to look like a girly girl? Do you
think I want that humiliation? Do you think I want to sit there while
they make me all girly? You just don't get it. Maybe you are saying that
because that is what you wish would happen to you. Maybe that's why you
walk around with that long hair." I was in tears and told her that she
knew that was not true. She knew that my mom forced that on me, and that
it was terrible for a boy. "Terrible for a boy but ok for me? You know
what I think you do want this with all that talk about how much your
sisters enjoy this. I think you really want this."
I was silent. I was hurting badly where she had punched me. My ego was
hurting from the things she said, and I still somehow felt bad for her.
She was silent for a minute too. I thought she was regretting what she
did - but it turns out she was thinking.
"Jessica does not know who I am," she said, and paused, her eyes looking
up as if to follow her chain of thought - mother would have never shown
her any pictures of me, I am sure - she hates the fact that I always look
so boyish. She is expecting a tomboy walking in with her long-haired
friend. She is expecting me to look like I do not want to be there. She
is expecting me to be scared." She paused again and looked right at me.
"Do you know who else would look exactly like that?" I did not know what
to say. I sat there in silence. "You. You would look exactly like that,
you and your long hair in a low boy pony tail would look every bit as
terrified as me, and she would never know. She would not have to call my
mom, because she would believe she had done to me what she was asked to
do, and you - well, you will have learned that it is not just a
hairstyle. You will learn what it is like when someone tries to make a
girl out of you."
I told her she was crazy. I told her I would never do it. She grabbed my
arm and twisted it behind my back, hard. It was painful and I could do
nothing about it. She asked me if those punches hurt. She told me she
had plenty more where those came from. She told me I was doing this, and
that I could choose now how much more pain I needed before I said yes. I
told her she was crazy. She was out of her mind, and while she was still
holding my arm behind my back she kneed me in the stomach. I gasped
again. She told me she was not joking. I was to be Vanessa today, and
she was going to be Paul. She then let go and I collapsed to the floor.
I could not understand what was happening. What had led my friend to do
this. I still did not believe she would do what she was saying she would
do, but I did not understand what she was doing. I did not understand
what anger, humiliation and fear had done to her - it had created a
monster, and I was somehow in its path. In her mind, sitting me in that
chair was the only way to keep it from happening to her. I again tried
to argue that by tomorrow her mom would see that it had not happened to
her, but to me. She would not really listen. She said it would give her
time to think things through. She said that the blow-out, or whatever it
is they were going to do should wash out by tomorrow anyway. Neither she
nor I knew quite how wrong that statement was.
She looked up at the clock and told me to get up. It was time to get
ready. I begged her again, and she pinched my ear and twisted it asking
if she needed to remind me again. We were both dressed in jeans with a
white rock band t-shirt on. We both had our hair in a low loose pony
tail - just like any other day.
She closed the door behind us as we left the house. The click of the
door behind us had a fatalistic sound. Every step further along this
absurd situation made me feel more terrified. I turned around and tried
to head back to the house. She pulled me forward. I told her I would
tell Jessica the truth. She froze in her tracks. She looked me in the
eyes and said, "Do you know what would have hurt more than everything I
did to you already." I nodded saying nothing. "I could have kicked you
in the balls - I don't have any, but I hear it's pretty bad. You just
try to say anything to Jessica about this, or anything else that will
get me in trouble, and I will kick you in the balls so we can both find
out how bad it is."
I was terrified. Simply terrified.
We walked slowly; every step seemed like a stab in my pride. I could not
believe what was about to happen. There was a part of me that was hoping
that this was just Vanessa's way of being funny. That when we got there
the truth would come out. We said nothing else to each other as we
walked the longest five blocks I had walked that far in my life. Little
did I really appreciate how walking these same five blocks back would
feel so much longer and so much more terrifying.
She was relentless in her march, but it seemed that my friend was still
in there somewhere. She tried to comfort me. "It is not like they will
do anything permanent. My mom has styled my hair before at home. She
will blow it out, and the brush tugs a little, the noise is annoying,
and you do feel silly, but when you next shower it will be gone. It'll
just be worse for you than it was for me because it will be in a beauty
parlor and not at home - it will look prettier." There was nothing about
her words that were comforting. I never thought anything would be
irreversible - at least nothing more than the wound in my pride. She
added, as a spiteful last comment, "Better you than me. I am sorry, but
I'm stronger than you, and I am definitely not doing this."
We got to the block where the Salon was. The outside was all glass.
Inside I could see all the ladies sitting in the chairs - there was not
a man or boy to be seen in a chair. Some men worked there, but they all
had short and manly hair. I started to feel ill as I thought of what
would happen to me, basically behind a pane of glass facing the street.
The humiliation I was about to experience could not be more public. My
eyes were watering. I turned to Vanessa one last time. "Please Vanessa,
please. You cannot do this to me, I cannot get a girl's hairstyle. It's
not fair." She looked sternly at me and told me she felt it was not fair
to her either. And that she was not going to go through that. If I
wanted to fight it off again, we could do it. "What has happened here is
not fair. Someone has decided that a girly hairstyle is going to happen
today. I just decided that the weakest of us gets to be the girl - it's
just the way nature made us."
I was fighting a losing battle, so just went quiet. We crossed the
street and walked slowly to the door. She looked at me, grabbed my hand,
and said, "Don't worry Samuel, you'll be ok. Just don't let her know what
is happening and take what's coming bravely. It will be a lot less bad
than a kick in the balls." She squeezed my hand so hard that I felt my
knuckles roll over each other. She added a final, "Sorry my mom did this
to you." To me! She said her mom did this to me - her mom did this to
her, she did it to me - I wanted to scream, I wanted to run. I wanted to
be man enough to say let's fight then - you are the girl, you are
getting the girly hairstyle. But instead, I bowed my head, used the hand
she was not squashing to dry the tears from my eyes and let her pull me
in.
We got in and were greeted by a young girl with the coolest braid. Her
hair had mixed strands of dark and blond hair and her braid seemed to
start at her forehead and go all the way to the middle of her back. The
mixed colors made it look amazing. I was looking at everyone in fear.
What was going to happen to me - I feared I would end up with the
hairstyle of every woman and girl in there. The girl looked at Vanessa
and said - Hi sweetie I am Andrea, are you Vanessa? She acted shocked
and angry and said, no I am Samuel - this is Vanessa, pointing at me. I
am her friend and am staying over this weekend.
She looked embarrassed and apologized to Vanessa. She explained that she
was expecting an unruly tomboy, and so she did not think it would be the
shiest of the two of us. "Don't worry," she continued, "we will find you
something to do while we make your girlfriend pretty for you - would you
like that?" Vanessa nodded with a smile.
Ok Vanessa, she said looking straight at me. I'll take you over to
Jessica. Don't cry honey - it's going to be ok. You cannot keep looking
like a boy forever. We will make you look pretty; you will like it in
the end, I am sure. I was frozen, and could not follow her. My stomach
was churning. Vanessa came up behind me and poked a finger hard into the
middle of my lower back. It was just painful enough for me to know that
I had no choice.
We walked up to a pretty lady in her mid-twenties. She was tall and had
wavy red hair that was impeccably styled. She was beautiful. "Oh
Vanessa, look at you girl... you look just like a boy! What are you
wearing - look, you look almost as boyish as your friend here. No wonder
your mom is so upset. We are going to fix that my darling. Sit here in
my chair so we can see what we are going to do." She looked at Vanessa
who was training behind me and said, "Oh you poor boy, this is really no
place for a boy. You must be hating having to be here. This place is all
about us girls becoming pretty - you must feel so out of place. Your
girlfriend here belongs in here but not you. Do you want to go and play
in the arcade across the street while I pretty up your princess?"
I looked at Vanessa with a greater look of desperation. I am not sure if
I wanted her to leave me there alone - would it give me a chance to tell
the truth? I felt I hated her even more at that point. She, the real
girl, was going to be playing with the boys in the arcade, while I was
going to be sitting here being made into a girl.
Amazingly Vanessa answered that she knew I was scared because I had
never been made to look pretty before, and that she would have the
patience to wait in here and see me get pretty for her. She said it was
a sacrifice she could make as a boy, to make up for the sacrifice I was
making to look good for her. "Oh my god how sweet - you really are a
charmer. I am going to make her extra pretty for you."
My eyes started watering again. "Oh, my girl. That's enough. You are not
a boy, and it is time that you looked like a girl. Stop crying, I am not
cutting your hand of or something..." Vanessa laughed at that, just a
little. I am a boy, I thought, I am, and you are taking that away from
me. Jessica obviously heard her chuckle, and said, "I know right, the
way she is acting you would have thought I was doing this to a real
boy!" This made her laugh even more. She was getting into this, and
said, do you ever work with boys? "Oh honey, of course not. This place
is for ladies and girl's and what I will be doing to this princess today
would be ridiculous for a boy - it would break his ego, he would never
feel like a man again - can you imagine?" She didn't laugh this time.
I tried to get up from the chair. Jessica pushed me back down, and told
me not to doubt for one second that I would call her mom and send me
home. I knew what that meant. It meant trouble for Vanessa, which meant
she would kick me in the balls, probably several times, until her mom
got home. "Now apologize to me, and ask me to make you pretty." I could
not believe she was asking me to do that. She walked around the front of
the chair and stared at me. I knew I had no choice. With a slight sob I
whispered, "I am sorry miss Jessica..." She kept looking at me. After a
couple of seconds she said, "And...." "Can you please make... make me
look... pretty."
I was broken. And she had not even started.
That is when she started telling me what she was going to do to me.
"Sweety, your dark hair is really pretty, and has a lot of volume, but
your mom thinks it needs to pop a little more. She has told me that I
can dye the top layer a very light blonde - you are going to love being
a blonde - they boys will be all over you. What is especially nice is
that we will leave your hair dark underneath - a little like Andrea
upfront. That will be the end of you being confused with a boy! The two
colors will make it clear that you spent the time to be feminine and had
it colored. I will also make sure you get some nice bangs - they are so
in fashion now, and that way you will not be able to put all your hair
back away from you like you are doing now, and hide your hairstyle. Your
mom will get you to look like a girl finally."
At this point she pulled the elastic of my hair and started running her
hand through it. "I will make sure I get some layers in here the keep its
shape. Today we will give you a nice blow-out and your mom came by here
today and dropped off the most gorgeous barrettes I have seen with some
crystal ribbons on them. I'll make sure I use them in your style so you
can feel as feminine as possible."
I looked in terror at Vanessa. This is when she looked at me with a look
of compassion. She realized only now that she had sent me down an
irreversible road. This wasn't going to just wash off in the shower. She
was condemning me to look like a girl. The only think I could hope for,
was that my mom would let me shave my head when this all came to light.
Vanessa also knew that backing out now would get her into too much
trouble. I do not know what her plan was for tomorrow. I do not think
she knew.
"Please miss Jessica, don't do this to me. Please." "Nonsense, she said.
Your mom and I agree on what I need to do to make you look like a girl,
and not a tomboy. I went into a defensive mode - "Do we really need the
color and the bangs - can't you just style it?" I looked at her
pleadingly. Desperate times called for desperate measures - I never
thought I would ask to have my hair styled, but the alternative seemed
unimaginable. "What? So you can just wash it out in the shower and go
back to looking like a boy?" No sweetie. That is not what your mother
wants! You are going to look like a girl today, tomorrow, on Monday when
you go to school, and every day after that." Oh, my god, school. No, not
school. How could I ever - I would never live this down. The kids would
mock me so badly. I would never get a girlfriend - I would never have
friends...
Vanessa sat silently in her chair. She looked scared, about the whole
thing. She looked sorry for me, but she looked relieved that she dodged
this bullet. I looked at her with a final desperate plea. She did not
know what to say, but knew she needed to stay in character. "Oh well
Vanessa, it will be ok. You'll have the prettiest hair in the class. The
girls will be jealous. I am just glad I do not need to go through
that." Jessica laughed. "My god of course not Samuel. Of course not...
unless you want me to put some curls in that pretty hair of yours," she
laughed so hard... "Can you imagine that, making a boy all girly?" she
said looking at Andrea who was just walking past... "You silly boy, you
know I am joking right..." I wished she was joking. She had no idea she
was about to do a lot worse to a boy....
Cathalina
- 20.03.2022
- 7
- 0
