Despite publishing over 110 eBooks on female domination and forced feminization, sometimes I hit on something I really haven't explored much before. Even though I have two covers of sissies getting feminine hair styles, I have never written a salon scene like the one in this book when Kristine takes Ryan to the young woman who cuts her hair and the two of them proceed to spend the next 3,200 words totally humiliating him. This story contains so much humiliation from when Kristine meets Ryan's mom, to the salon, to his first bra fitting, to walking into his sister's party with his new ultra-girly blonde hair. This story really picks up with this book. I hope you'll give Quarterback Prom Queen 2 a chance.
"I wouldn't want to cut off too much length and his hair is short for a lot of styles. I think I could do a decent shag or maybe a pixie, but I can't promise it'll look much like a boy's haircut," said Erin.
"Wait," I complained. "I can't walk around school with a girl's hairstyle."
"I don't think you really have a choice," said Erin. Before I could really react, Kristine had grabbed my shoulders and was holding me down in the chair. Erin shoved a red ball gag in my now gaping mouth and together, they zip-tied my wrists to the arms of the chair. When they raised the chair and tilted it back, I felt particularly helpless. I hadn't noticed that Erin's station was secluded in the back of a very busy salon. I might make some noise even through the ball gag, but I doubted anybody would hair me over the hairdryers.
"Is that gag going to be a problem when you're cutting his hair?" asked Kristine.
"It would be, but I'm sure after your sissy calms down, we won't really need it," replied Erin. "Would you like color?"
"Truthfully, I hadn't thought about it," said Kristine.
"I think he'd look great as a platinum blonde and I may not dye many guys' hair, but I still do it from time to time. People may think it's odd, but they won't necessarily know what's going on," assured Erin.
"Mmmph," I complained through the gag.
"I'm assuming that's just your way of telling me that you're excited about your new look. You see, I cut Kristine's hair and I like her very much, but as a hairstylist a lot of my friends are other stylists and a lot of the male stylists like other men. I think they're amazing guys," began Erin. "So I don't think much of macho asshole football players who bully people for their sexual orientation."
"Mmmph," I yelled into the gag, but only a small hum came out.
Erin went to work and other than being restrained, it wasn't too different from any other hair cut I'd ever received. Erin cut my hair into a short pixie that could really only be described as feminine. Even worse, the hair would only be able to be styled into this sassy little hair style. "What do you think?" asked Erin after declaring my hair complete.
"That both looks great and will be so humiliating for the little sissy to explain," said Kristine squeezing my shoulders. I cursed her out, but of course that was all cut off by the gag.
"He doesn't seem very enthusiastic," joked Erin.
"I think that's his way of saying he wants color."
"Alright!" exclaimed Erin. "So let's begin, shall we? We don't even know if his hair will take to the bleach."
"Oh I hope so."
Like a true pro, Erin applied bleach to a single piece of my hair and then wrapped it in tinfoil. Then we waited. The girls discussed what kind of prom gown Kristine should make me buy while I tried to escape the zip-ties. When it was finally time for Erin to peel away the foil, she checked my hair and proudly proclaimed, "Perfect!" Kristine was so happy she literally clapped for joy.
It took Erin about an hour to wrap my hair in over 100 pieces of foil. I felt like a human leftover. Then I sat there for literally hours before, Erin wheeled over a four headed heater. This caused the bleaching agent between the foils to do its work and take my hair from brown to an orangey-yellow shade. Occasionally, she would rinse out strands at the shampoo bowl.
"This would be a lot easier if we hadn't had to tie him to the chair," complained Erin.
"Until he ran out of the store screaming," said Kristine."Yeah, there is that," agreed the young stylist.