Catherine and Callie
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The Day It All Changed - Chapter 4 free porn video
Chapter 4
I looked down at my hands and feet. 10 fingers and 10 toes glistening in
bright red. The funny thing about looking down at your fingers and toes,
is that you cannot really see the rest of you. And when you see your
fingers and toes painted for the first time it looks alien to you. It
really felt as if I was looking down at someone else's fingers. I wiggled
my fingers slightly to see if I could get my brain to connect the two. As
much as I felt defeated and humiliated with the red nails, it felt worse
to look down at them and feel they were not mine.
I never thought what this looked like to Priscilla. The fact that I was
looking down at them, and wiggling them left the clear impression that I
was admiring them. I realized this when she came up behind me and hugged
me. "It's ok... it's ok to love how they look. Not all boys are manly,
some boys are girly and that's ok - you were brave enough to take such a
bold step with your hair - it is ok to enjoy it."
The daggers just kept hitting me. I said nothing. What can you say when
you are this far down the line. I looked across at Vanessa with her lilac
nails. She had done this before - she was not staring at her nails like I
was. She looked angry, and frustrated, but not confused like I looked.
Still, I could tell that this really did seem to upset her as much as it
upset me.
We both sat their quietly while Priscilla loaded a movie. Neither of us
were at all thrilled about watching Miss Congeniality. Neither of us
wanted to watch that, but in our own way we both sympathized with Sandra
Bullock' character. And we were both equally puzzled that she seemed to
grow into it.
When it was time to sleep I lay there thinking about what was ahead of
me. How would my mother react when she saw me. Was I in trouble? How soon
would I be able to get rid of this hair - would my mom let me shave my
head? How stupid would I look with a shaved head? What if she did not let
me shave my head? Can we dye it back? Would I have to go back to that
salon? What could we do about the girly bangs I now sported? The tears
rolled down my face as I felt afraid of what lay ahead.
"Sorry." I looked over at the other bed in the room where Vanessa lay.
"I'm afraid too..." My mom is going to kill me. I have no idea what
punishment she will hold for me, but it will not be good. I should not
have done this to you, but I could not bear the thought of having someone
make me look like a girly girl."
"So you thought it was better for a boy to look like this? Is that what
you thought? I hate you." She fell silent for a second. We had never
really said something like that to each other - not in a tone that
sounded like we meant it. "I am sorry. I am sure your mom will let you
get it all cut off tomorrow - I would have to keep it. It just seemed
like a better solution. I did not think this through."
"Well how about the humiliation of being a boy and having this done to
you? Did you think about that? Did you think what this was doing to me?."
She responded the most baffling thing I could have heard. "All along they
thought you were a girl - no one was laughing at you. And the humiliation
of being made to look girly was no worse for you than for me. I don't
want to look like that - I think it looks stupid, and if they did it to
me I would have to keep it. For you it will be gone tomorrow."
My tears then grew to a sob. My words blurred into each other as my nose
slowly went runny from the tears. "I am afraid she won't. She won't let
me cut my hair. She loves my hair and makes me brush it like I were a
girl. Every night. What if she does not let me cut it. What then?"
Vanessa grew silent. It was evident that the fact that I may be forced to
stay like this had never crossed her mind. The truth is it had not really
crossed mine yet. I was trying to convince myself that I would be able to
shave it off, or cut it short and dye it back. IT was only talking to her
that I realized that I may be stuck with the long hair and bangs. The
best I could probably do is dye it back, and get rid of the curls. I
could wear a cap I guess and keep it all hidden at school.
We said nothing else that night as we both cried ourselves to sleep.
"Morning my beauties!" Priscilla's bubbly voice filled the room as she
pulled back the curtain letting in the light. My eyes quickly blinked
closed and slowly opened letting my sight adapt to the brightness. My
beauties... Ugh.
"I need to get going soon, but I want to make sure I help you do your
hair this morning. I mean, this one here is not going to help you with
that, are you miss tomboy?" I got that painful feeling deep in my gut
again. Somehow, I knew she did not mean to hurt me, but she was hurting
me again and again. "No!" I said - she had a blank look on her face. I
realized I had snapped and felt bad. "There is no need, thank you. I'll
be fine," I said, somehow trying to make it better.
"Nonsense. It has been a long time since I have seen something as pretty
as what you had, and if you are going to come out to your mom, we should
get it looking nice again. It is all squashed down by your pillow. Now
come on."
"No, please. I don't want to." I looked at her with a pleading look.
"Sweety, there is no need to be shy now. There is nothing more to hide -
look at your bright red beautiful nails, your blunt bangs, and those most
striking highlights. You've done it darling you are out, and you should
love it. Come on. I will not take no for an answer. And you, Vanessa, you
come and watch. You need to learn, because I am sure that your mom will
send you right back to the salon to get the same hairstyle and you need
to know what to do. It takes high maintenance to look as good as Sam
does!"
Begrudgingly I got up in my boyish pajamas and as I looked down at my
feet to find my slippers, I saw my red nails and my now blond and curly
hair slip over my shoulder and hang there in my peripheral vision. This
was like a bad dream that just kept going.
I walked slowly to Vanessa's mom's bathroom, where Priscilla seemed to
have laid out the torture devices. Facing the large mirror was a stool
and on the sink were a hair dryer, a curling iron, a couple of brushes
and a can of hairspray. Next to that was the little barrette that had
been in my hair the day before - that final little stab to my manliness.
"Sit down princess! And you sit there and learn Vanessa," she said
pointing at the edge of the built-in bathtub just in my field of view.
And so she proceeded to brush, and then curl my hair. All the while she
would be telling me how she was jealous of this wonderful hair that I
had. "You know, with hair like this, it's no wonder you wanted to be a
girl, you were born to look like this." Every step, she would talk
through, teaching me, and Vanessa at the same time - neither of whom was
interested and both of whom dreaded the whole thing.
This all lasted at least 40 minutes and ended with the crowning touch of
the shinning barrette and a few generous sprays from the can of hairspray
which locked in the extra volume that she had brought back replicating
quite beautifully what Jessica had done yesterday. It was clear that the
shape and curls were here to stay.
At this point she told Vanessa that she had to do something to her hair
or her mother would be too upset. I gladly jumped out of the seat and
Vanessa, perhaps realizing this was the safest course of action at this
point, begrudgingly sat in the chair. I started to walk away when
Priscilla grabbed my arm, and said, "Oh no you don't!"
Dottie
- 12.12.2021
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