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Gateway Drug Part 3 :iconshoujodana:shoujodana 3 6
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Nail Polish is Gateway Drug Part 2 :iconshoujodana:shoujodana 3 6
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Nail Polish is a Gateway Drug :iconshoujodana:shoujodana 10 12
Literature
A Change Will Do You Good
The young man stood in front of the Salon Demure and stared inside, just like he’d done day after day for the past week and a half.  He would stand there, and stare, eyes transfixed, watching all the activity inside, smiling a contented smile to himself.  But no one ever noticed.  He was good at hiding his actions behind sunglasses, or to read the paper, or to pretend to search for an address, or in the case of today, eat an ice cream.  No one ever knew what he was doing, or so he thought.
He was about to call it a day and return to his apartment, when the door to the salon opened and a stunningly beautiful woman walked out.  She looked at the young man, smiled and said, “Is there something we can do for you?”
Feeling he had been caught doing something wrong, he began to stammer.  “Ummm……  No”.  The man replied.  “I’m good”.
He started to leave when she put her arm into his and bega
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Literature
A
The young man stood in front of the Salon Demure and stared inside, just like he’d done day after day for the past week and a half.  He would stand there, and stare, eyes transfixed, watching all the activity inside, smiling a contented smile to himself.  But no one ever noticed.  He was good at hiding his actions behind sunglasses, or to read the paper, or to pretend to search for an address, or in the case of today, eat an ice cream.  No one ever knew what he was doing, or so he thought.
He was about to call it a day and return to his apartment, when the door to the salon opened and a stunningly beautiful woman walked out.  She looked at the young man, smiled and said, “Is there something we can do for you?”
Feeling he had been caught doing something wrong, he began to stammer.  “Ummm……  No”.  The man replied.  “I’m good”.  He started to leave when she put her arm into his an
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Literature
The Weaker Sex Part 4: Finale (Sort of)
“Of course…”   Karla smiled as she rolled a cart over.  The cart was filled with curlers of all sizes and colors.  It looked like a big rolling box of crayons.  “Isn’t that why you’re here?”
She started by selecting a pink roller and held it in front of Kevin.  “This is a sponge roller, Princess. “  She told him.   His eyes gazed at the piece of plastic like it was magical and to Kevin, the 5 year old boy sitting in the beauty salon watching his mother get her hair done, it was magical.  Karla continued.  “The sponge roller will give you pretty curls and won’t damage your hair.”  “Can you believe women used to sleep with these in their hair?”
The stylist noticed Kevin’s dreamy expression   “I lost you again, didn’t I, Sweetie?”  She whispered.  “It’s alright.”  “Just sit back and relax.&
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Literature
The Weaker Sex Part 3: Not a Daydream
Before Kevin could react, Karla the stylist leaned the seat back as far as it would go.  She turned on the water, checked its temperature and began to wet his hair down.  “Not too hot is it?”  She asked him.  
A little surprised that she would even care how he felt, Kevin stuttered.  “Ummm…”  “No, I guess not.”  
“Good” Karla smiled as she lathered up his unruly hair.  “We want this to go well for you, don’t we?”  
She turned and said to Kevin’s sister and smiled.  This might take a while.”  “You might want to come back in a couple of hours.”  “There’s a coffee shop around the corner.”  She added “You could hang out there.”
Janet frowned and grabbed her things.  “Yeah, OK”.  She felt a little guilty leaving her brother at the salon but in the end left for the coffee shop.
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Literature
The Weaker Sex Part 2
Kevin had never been more embarrassed.  He was dressed like a high school girl (OK, more like a middle school girl).  He wore a short skirt and flats, a pretty silk top with a bow and sported a tight French braid in his hair.  The only thing he lacked, he thought, was a pink backpack.  He had lost a wager to his athletic sister Janet and was now being dragged out the door ‘en femme’.
“Come on ‘Donna’…:”   His sister laughed as she pulled him behind her.  “It’s a beautiful day.”  “Let’s take a walk.”  
Kevin/Donna walked down the street feeling both humiliated and scared.  What if someone recognized him?  What is his sister ‘outed’ him in public.  What if the breeze lifted his short denim skirt up and revealed all??  He just wished the day would speed by
The day did speed by with ‘Donna’ being dragged from one humiliating situa
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Literature
The Weaker Sex
“Damn these heels hurt”.  Eighteen year-old Kevin Donnellson thought as he clicked down the sidewalk.  “How much longer is this gonna go on?”  He whined to his sister, Janet.
“Until I get tired of humiliating you, little bro…”  Janet laughed.  “Or maybe I should call you little sis”
Kevin (or Donna, as his sister had renamed him) was dressed in the most feminine attire possible.  “We need to find something total girly for you to wear, Sweetie”.  She had told him while picking his outfit for the day.  To that end ‘Donna’ was wearing a pair of powder blue satin panties with just a hint of lace around the leg openings and a matching bra with the same lace around the cups.  Janet had even dressed her brother in a white satin top to wear over a blue denim skirt that was way too short.  Every   time the wind blew, Kevin/Donna was reminded of how short the skirt
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Literature
Its Just Drinks: Another Marty/Martina Story
The bra and panties I’m wearing are jet black and made of shiny satin (yeah, I know….  Nice, right?).  I’m also wearing stockings and 4 inch heels, but nothing else.  My hair which has been hi-lighted red (yeah, I’m a ginger).  It’s wet, smells slightly of strawberries and is currently wrapped in towel. Audra, one of my fellow ‘Spice Girls’ stands at the ready with her trusty blow dryer and vent brush.  She removes the towel and begins the process of drying and volumizing my ginger locks.  “We want to make sure you look pretty for your date with Tony.”  She smiles.  
“It’s not a date..”  I blush.  “We’re just going for drinks.”  I explain.
“Of course you are, Sweetie…”  Audra continues.  “Nevertheless, we still want you pretty for when Tony arrives.”  
Wait…  You don’t know who
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Literature
Marty's New Job Part 2
Hello friends...  Martina here.  Wait?  You don't know why I'm calling myself Martina these days?  Where have you been?  You didn't know that I was blackmailed into posing as the receptionist at Salon Spice?  You didn't know I've been dressing 'en femme' and   passing myself off as a girl for the past few days?  Really??  You know what?   It's OK.  Rina doesn't know anything about this either and let's just say I'd like to keep it that way.  
But for the sake of those who are out of the loop, let me catch you up.  Several weeks ago, I agreed to accompany my best friend Rina to a beauty salon for a new do.   Afraid of how her hair might turn out, she didn't want to go alone. She’s my best friend so, naturally I went with her.  And because I couldn't keep my mouth shut at the salon, I ended up with a new 'do' as well.  
I was so embarrassed with my curly-headed appearance, and even more embarrassed that
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Literature
Marty/Martina's Dream
It was the end of my first day as Martina, replacement receptionist at Salon Spice.  My hair had been permed and  lightened, I'd had my nails professionally done and had been 'made over ' to the point where no one I knew would ever recognize me.  I had been through a lot in one day and I was in total exhaustion mode
I kicked off my shoes, popped a dinner in the microwave, sat down and massaged my aching calves.    No wonder Rina never wore heels. These things hurt like hell.  But I had, during the course of one day, learned how to walk correctly in them.  Small victory, right?  
The timer on the microwave went off with a 'ding'.  I limped into the kitchen, retrieved my evening meal and I wolfed it down in no time.  I guess putting in a long day as a crossdressing receptionist gives a boy a big appetite.  At least it did for me.
I logged onto my laptop and check my mail and found that Rina had left a message.  Despite the press
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Literature
Marty's New Job: Hello Martina
Someone once said that nothing in the digital world ever disappears.  I guess I'm living proof of that.  Hello friends, I'm Marty Inouye , or maybe I should say 'Martina Inouye'   I know I haven't been around for awhile.  I've been kinda busy.  You see, for the past three weeks, I've  had this job and it kept me pretty busy.  You didn't know?  Well that's because I wasn't telling anyone.  It was a secret.  A really big secret.  I wouldn't be telling you about it now, except that...  Well, let me tell you the whole story.
It was summer and I was in full-on relax mode.  My mom was away at a retreat.  The insurance company she works for had sent her to Las Vegas to attend a conference.  Lucky! I was home alone for the next three weeks with nothing to do but sleep late, eat, and play copious amounts of video games.  (I have so few needs).
I was truly alone because my best friend, confidante, and personal part-t
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Literature
Marty's New 'Do' Part 3: 'Please'
Hello friends. My name is Marty Inouye and I've been through a lot over the past week. I was accosted by an angry hair stylist who took it upon herself to make me look like a runway model (at least she made my hair look that way). I dealt with some horrible dreams that made me question who I was and hide from my best friend Rina. I struggled with my own identity only to find out that Rina actually liked my new 'do'. She even offered to help me “get all done up”. (her words). Jeez... How do I get into these situations?
Right now, though, I'm not in a position to find the answer to that question. You see, it's 3:00 AM and I'm kind of in a hurry to get home and off the street. I alternate between running (but not too fast to give the police something to stop me for) and walking (but not too slow to give the local guys an easy target to harass). The last thing I want to do is get stopped by someone and have to explain the way I look. Did I fail to mention that my hair is done u
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Literature
Marty's New 'Do' Part 2
I walked home with my curly head down, hoping I wouldn't see anyone.  Rina did her best to hide my girly-curls by brushing them all back into a make-shift ponytail, but despite her efforts, my new-formed curls would not be denied. The combination of the humidity of the day and the tightness of the rollers made my ponytail look kinda like a bunny tail, only instead of it being on the backside of a bunny, it was sticking out of the back of my head.  
God, I was angry!  I was seven kinds of angry.  I was angry with myself for treating Rina like I just did. I should have let her walk me home.  Instead I gave her the brush-off.   She didn't deserve that.  She was only trying to help.  But I was too embarrassed to let her.
I was angry with Stern Stylist for doing this to me. I was angry for not keeping my mouth shut and getting myself into this predicament.  But most of all, I was angry for....  Well, I'm not sure why.
I finally made it home
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Literature
Marty's New 'Do'
Looking back, I guess I should have just kept my mouth shut.  But that's what happens when I get nervous or flustered.  I start talking, just to break up the awkward silence and I can't stop, and that usually makes things worse.  No one knows that better than Rina, my best friend.
My name's Martin.  Most folks call me Marty.  Rina calls me 'Mari' (Don't worry I'll explain why in a bit).  Rina and I have been friends since both of us can remember.  We met in grade school and have been 'besties' ever since.  Me, I'm this kinda tall, kinda skinny Asian kid with glasses.  Rina...  Well, she's not tall (she hates being called short, so don't call her that!) but she's very pretty.  But don't tell her I said that, she'll hit me.  Her skin looks like fine porcelain and she has this long wavy black hair that you could just get lost in.  Sorry, I went poetic there for a bit.  And that's not really why I'm here.  
This all
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“Here….”  Claire smiled and said.  “Try these…”

I was shocked when I saw what Claire was holding.  In her delicate hands was a pair of white cotton panties covered with little red hearts.  Clearly not a guy’s pair of underwear. “Ummm… “  I stammered.  “Are those yours?”

“Don’t be silly.”  Claire giggled.  “There’s no way I could fit my hips into these.”  She has a point.  My Claire is a curvy woman and the panties she was holding look, well small.  “These are my sister, Chloe’s.”  She explained.   “You two are almost the same size, they just might fit”

“I can’t wear panties to work…”  I cried out.  “What if someone were to find out?”  

Claire broke down, sobbing.  “You hate me, don’t you?”>

“Angel, why would I hate you?”  I asked, really freaked out.  I’d never seen Claire this emotional before.  

“It’s all my fault.”  “I forgot to put your clothes in the dryer and now you have nothing to wear…” She sobbed.  “All I wanted to do was to help and now you’re mad at me…”

“Wait, whoa, I’m not mad at all.”  I confessed.  “I know you were just trying to help and it was a great idea.”  “It’s just that I’d feel so weird wearing your kids sister’s (or any other girls) underwear.”  

“Claire seemed to brighten.  “Then you’re not mad??

“No, Angel…”  I smiled.  “I’m not mad.”

“Then you’ll wear Chloe’s undies?”  She beamed.  “Just for me?”

Wow…  That situation changed in a hurry.  How could I say no after all that and not appear to be a jerk?  Looks like I’m gonna have to man up (I know, irony, right?) and slide those panties on.

I stood, proudly.  “Sure Angel…”  I told her.  “Just for you.”  
Her eyes lit up as she jumped out of bed, grabbed my hand and pulled me over in front of her.  “This is gonna be fun”   She giggled and held out the panties for me to step into.  Rather than argue that I could have put them on myself, I gave in and stepped into them.  I felt oddly like Cinderella.  “You know, Chloe also has some My Little Pony undies…”  Claire said with a grin.  “You could wear those instead.”  

“No thanks, Angel…”  I said blushing.  “The little hearts are just fine.”

Claire slid the undies up my smooth legs while she went on and on about how erotic this all was.  “This is so hot, Marty….”  She said.  “It’s too bad you have to leave for work.”  “We could just stay here and , you know…”  She purred as she tucked my package into the panties.  

The combination of her soft words and her equally soft hands was getting to me.  Claire noticed and said.  “Oh my….”  She giggled.  “It looks like someone enjoys wearing panties.”  

Flustered, I said.  “No, it’s not that at all…”  “It was just…”  Oh hell.   It was easier to just grin and bear it.  

She spun me around to check out my backside.  “Nice…”  She commented and swatted my bottom.  “One quick picture before you go??”  She begged.  “Pleeeease?”
One quick picture became two and then three as she had me turn and bend and strut.  I admit, I was kinda getting into it.  

My short experience as a model was over when I noticed the clock.  I was so late.  I grabbed my pants and shuffled them on in a hurry.  I was grabbing a shirt when Claire held up a matching bra and smiled.  “Yes??”  

“NO…”  I stood my ground. “No way.”   I was expecting tears, but none came.  Good…  Now to get out of there and get to work.  

“Let me fix that mop of yours before you go.”  She said as she ran her fingers through my hair.  “It’ll just take a minute.”  

OK, but make it quick.  Claire pulled and tugged and brushed my hair this direction and that.  “What are you doing to my hair?”  I asked.  

“I’m making sure it’s up and out of your face.”  She explained. “I put it into a man-bun, you know, like those hot guys at the gym.”  

“OK, Ok…”  I said, panicked.    “Just hurry.”  

A few bobby pins later (wait… bobby pins?) and some hair spray and Claire pronounced me done. I ran down to the car, jumped in and hit the gas.  I was late but maybe not too late.  As I drove to work I had to wonder what had gotten into Claire.  “No time to think about that now”  I thought and concentrated on my driving.  Whatever it was, it would keep.  

Claire watched his car pull away.  She took her cellphone out and placed the call.  “Yes, he’s gone”.  “He just left”.   Claire said.

“So… How’s it coming?”  The voice on the other side of the phone asked.  

“Slower than I had expected.”   Claire replied.  “Today he’s wearing those panties I bought.”  “He wouldn’t wear the bra, but he does have the cutest girly updo you’ve ever seen.”  

“I can’t want to check it out.”  The voice responded.  

“Slow is best, Claire.”  The voice continued.  “We don’t want to scare him.”  

To Be Continued

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Hey friends, It’s me Marty again and the answer to your question is ‘Yes’ .  Yes, my nails are still painted. They’re painted red.  At least my toenails are.    Claire told me that this shade of red (called ‘Spoiled Diva’) is a classy color and looks good with open toed sandals and low heels.  Yeah, OK…  I guess.  This is my 12th day in polish for the record and I’ve been from Coral Pink to Babydoll, Pink to Sugar Plum to Disco Fever.  I’ve even worn ‘Little Gold Dress’.   The funny thing is, I was gonna remove the polish after the first time Claire painted them (and we after we had wild sex), but Claire gets all tear-eyed, climbs into my lap, (Yeah.  Just like last time) and practically begs me to keep my nails painted.  She has this pout that I can’t say ‘no’ to, especially when she grinds her sexy hips into my crotch.  

“Sweetie…”  Claire pouts.  “I thought you liked having your nails painted.”  “You did, didn’t you?”  (Grind, grind, grind).  “Wasn’t it fun?”
“Ummm…. Yeah, Babe”.  I stammer, my resistance waning.  “It was hot…  I mean fun”  “It’s just that I can’t go to work with my nails done.”  “What will my co-workers think?”  Hah!  I have her here
“Yeah, I see what you mean.”  She says  (Grind, grind, grind).  “Then, we’ll take the polish off your fingers (Grind, stretch, nibble), but keep the polish on your sexy, little toes.”.  “Will that be OK?” (Pout) “Please say ‘yes’.”  
OK, what can I say?  I give in again.  “Sure baby…”  I sigh.  “Anything for you.”  Next stop, the bedroom for more wild sex.  See?  It’s kind of a win-win for me here. I make Claire happy and she makes me (and ‘Little Marty’) happy.  
We only have time for a quickie ‘cause I have to get ready for work, but it was well worth it.
Claire?”  I ask, looking around.  “Where’s my shampoo?”  
“Oh, I’m sorry love…”  She says.  “The bottle tipped over and it all ran down the drain.”  “Just use mine.”  She says.  “You always say you like what it does for my hair.”
“Yeah, but…”  Damn.  I don’t have time for this.  I gotta get ready for work, so I squeeze a small amount of Claire’s herbal shampoo and lather up my hair (which Claire has recently talked me into growing out). The shampoo smells ‘flowery’ and I complain to Claire.
“Stop being such a crybaby.”  She says as she climbs into the shower with me.  She kisses me and says, “Mmmmm….  Your hair smells so good.”  “Like strawberries”    “It’s so sexy”
Her hands reaches down between my legs as she begins to stroke me.  I moan as her hand works its magic.  But then Claire stops suddenly.  
“What??”  I ask, panting
“I was just noticing your legs.”  Claire says. (Stroke, slowwwwly)
“Yeah?”  I answer, my heart pounding
“It’s nothing…”  She says.  “Never mind.”  (Stroke, pout)
“What?”  I ask.  “What is it?”
“You have these pretty painted toes…”  She continues. (Stroke, stroke).  “But you have boy legs.”  
“Boy legs?”  I moan.  
“You know…”  She says.  “They’re hairy.”  
She exits the shower and returns quickly with a can of shaving cream and a pink razor.  “Now hold still.”  She smiles.  “This won’t take long.”  
She spreads the cream on my legs. It smells like strawberries.  “Strawberries and cream”   she tells me.  “It’ll moisturize your legs too.”  “They’ll be soft and supple.”
“Wait….”  I gasp.  “What does that mean?”  
“Relax Scaredy-Cat”.   Claire sneers.  “I’m just teasing”.   She shaves my skinny legs, but doesn’t stop there.  She raises my arms over my head and denudes my ‘pits’, removes what little hair I have on my chest and yeah, Claire even shaves my, you know….  My area down there.  
I’m standing in the shower as hairless as a newborn, wondering how I let this happen.  Claire didn’t give me a lot of time to think, though.  She pulls me out of the shower and wraps  a soft fluffy towel around my waist.  She grabs a bottle of lotion, squeezes a hefty amount onto her hands and begins to rub it all over me.  “Here…”  Claire tells me.  “This will help with razor burn”.  
This, like everything other product Claire has used on me today, smells like strawberries and cream.  She leans in, strokes me and says, “You really smell pretty, babe.”  It didn’t take long for the stroking to get to me and we head back to the bed for one more quickie.  Looking up at the clock I notice how late it it’s getting and start digging though my chest of drawers for, you know, drawers.
“Hey Babe…”  I call out.  “Where are my boxers?”
Claire enters the room red-faced.  “Oh my God…”  She says.  “I’m so sorry.  “I washed your things this morning and I guess I never put them in the dryer.”
“All of my boxers?”   I ask.  “What am I gonna wear to work.  I can’t go commando.”  
“I’m sooo sorry, Love.”  She repeats.  “Let me see what I can find.”  Claire returns a moment later. “Here….”  She smiles and says.  “Try these…”

To be continued…





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As I sit here, writing this, I’m wearing white lace panties and a matching bra.  Don’t bother checking my profile, I’m a dude.  But today I’m sporting a short denim skirt (OK, really short) and a white silk top tied off in a ridiculous bow.  Three inch heels are pinching my feet and they make me teeter back and forth when I stand.  

My face is made up to make me look demure (or at least that’s what I was told). No slutty make-up for me, not yet, anyway, just tawny pink eye shadow, pink for my lips and cheeks as well.  I was told these colors would highlight my soft Asian skin.  Sounds hot, right? I know…  I don’t get it either.  

My hair is done up in girly fashion, full of ‘volumizer’ and held up with ‘little girl’ hair clips.  I look damn cute if I say so myself.  I didn’t always look like this.   My ‘transformation’ was slow, so slow it was almost unnoticeable, at least at first.  And it all started because I was sleepy.

I guess it started that lazy Sunday afternoon.  My girlfriend, Claire and I had been to the beach that day.  Between the sun, the heat and dehydration, I was exhausted.  So when we finally got back to her place I collapsed in her recliner chair.

After snoozing for God knows how long, Claire woke me up with slight tap. “Hey Sleepyhead”.   She whispered, handing me a bottle of Gatorade.  “Try some of this.”  “I think we’re dehydrated.”  Figuring she was right, I accepted the bottle.  As I took the bottle into my hands, I noticed something.  The fingers holding the bottle did not look like my fingers.  I mean sure, they were my fingers, but they looked different.  Specifically, my nails were pink (Coral Pink to be exact).  “What the hell?”  I asked.

Claire noticed my confusion and said.  “I know, right??”  “It’s such a pretty color.”  She saw the anger on my face and admitted.  “Sorry, Sweetie, but after you crashed, I got bored.”  She explained.  “I did my nails and then I decided to do yours.”  She smiled.  “Don’t you just love the color?”  

I held my newly manicured hands out in front of me and looked at my nails.  “Yeah, I guess so.”  “I mean, on you…”  

“Don’t be silly” Claire corrected.  “That’s definitely not my color.”  “That color suits you.”  Claire continued.  “Coral Pink goes good with your skin tone.”  “Plus it makes your feet look so small and delicate.”

“Wait??”  I gasped.  “My toes, too??”  I hadn’t even noticed until she said something, but sure enough as I looked down I saw my toes.  They had indeed been painted as well.

“Boy you really are a sound sleeper.”  She giggled.  “I can’t believe you didn’t feel any of that.”  “You even slept through me putting the separators on your cute little toes.”  She laughed.  “See?”  She said as she held out her cellphone to show me the picture.  She was right, my feet did look small and OK, yeah, delicate.

“Ha ha…”  I grimaced.  “Very funny.”  “Now help me get this stuff off.”  I demanded.
“Forget it…”  Claire sneered.  “I like that color and I think you should keep it on.”  Then she straddled my lap as she leaned the recliner back.  “So???”  She purred as she ground her cute bottom into my crotch.  “Can we leave the polish on?”  “Pleeeeese??”  She pouted as she leaned and nibbled on my ear.  

Now let me ask you gentlemen out there, if you had a cute, curvy bouncing blonde cutie sitting on your lap, grinding her hips into your junk, practically begging to ‘make your day’, would you care if your nails were painted Coral Pink?  I know, me neither.

I’ve watched TV in that chair. I’ve studied for finals in that chair, gotten drunk in that chair, but until now, I’ve never had sex in that chair.  We were wild!   She rode me until I was crying out her name.  So much intensity like we’d never had before.  Claire pinned my arms over my head and continued to grind until I climaxed.  God….  That was hot!

We lay there in that recliner, Claire and I exhausted from our lovemaking.  She leaned over and kissed me deeply.  “Ready for round 2?”  She asked with a sly smile.

“Always…”  I answered as I held her tight and carried her back to the bed. It was weird, I thought.  Claire and I always had wonderful sex, but for some reason this time was hotter, more intense.  We grabbed.  We nibbled.  We moaned, and eventually we collapsed.

An hour later Claire and I shared a shower.  My nails still painted coral pink by the way.  We took turns soaping each other up.  I felt so randy, I’m surprised we didn’t spontaneously combust.  Claire was shampooing my hair and while her fingers massaged my scalp.  She asked me.  “Marty…  Have you ever thought of letting your hair grow out?’’  “I bet it would look hot”

To be continued.
Nail Polish is a Gateway Drug
As I sit here, writing this, I’m wearing white lace panties and a matching bra.  Don’t bother checking my profile, I’m a dude.  But today I’m sporting a short denim skirt (OK, really short) and a white silk top tied off in a ridiculous bow.  Three inch heels are pinching my feet and they make me teeter back and forth when I stand. 

My face is made up to make me look demure (or at least that’s what I was told). No slutty make-up for me, not yet, anyway, just tawny pink eye shadow, pink for my lips and cheeks as well.  I was told these colors would highlight my soft Asian skin.  Sounds hot, right? I know…  I don’t get it either. 

My hair is done up in girly fashion, full of ‘volumizer’ and held up with ‘little girl’ hair clips.  I look damn cute if I say so myself.  I didn’t always look like this.   My ‘transformation’ was slow, so slow it was almost unnoticeable, at least at first.  And it all started because I was sleepy. 

I guess it started that lazy Sunday afternoon.  My girlfriend, Claire and I had been to the beach that day.  Between the sun, the heat and dehydration, I was exhausted.  So when we finally got back to her place I collapsed in her recliner chair.  
After snoozing for God knows how long, Claire woke me up with slight tap. “Hey Sleepyhead”.   She whispered, handing me a bottle of Gatorade.  “Try some of this.”  “I think we’re dehydrated.”  Figuring she was right, I accepted the bottle.  As I ltook the bottle into my hands, I noticed something.  The fingers holding the bottle did not look like my fingers.  I mean sure, they were my fingers, but they looked different.  Specifically, my nails were pink (Coral Pink to be exact).  “What the hell?”  I asked.

Claire noticed my confusion and said.  “I know, right??”  “It’s such a pretty color.”  She saw the anger on my face and admitted.  “Sorry, Sweetie, but after you crashed, I got bored.”  She explained.  “I did my nails and then I decided to do yours.”  She smiled.  “Don’t you just love the color?” 

I held my newly manicured hands out in front of me and looked at my nails.  “Yeah, I guess so.”  “I mean, on you…”  
“Don’t be silly” Claire corrected.  “That’s definitely not my color.”  “That color suits you.”  Claire continued.  “Coral Pink goes good with your skin tone.”  “Plus it makes your feet look so small and delicate.”

“Wait??”  I gasped.  “My toes, too??”  I hadn’t even noticed until she said something, but sure enough as I looked down I saw my toes.  They had indeed been painted as well. 

“Boy you really are a sound sleeper.”  She giggled.  “I can’t believe you didn’t feel any of that.”  “You even slept through me putting the separators on your cute little toes.”  She laughed.  “See?”  She said as she held out her cellphone to show me the picture.  She was right, my feet did look small and OK, yeah, delicate.

“Ha ha…”  I grimaced.  “Very funny.”  “Now help me get this stuff off.”  I demanded.

“Forget it…”  Claire sneered.  “I like that color and I think you should keep it on.”  Then she straddled my lap as she leaned the recliner back.  “So???”  She purred as she ground her cute bottom into my crotch.  “Can we leave the polish on?”  “Pleeeeese??”  She pouted as she leaned and nibbled on my ear. 

Now let me ask you gentlemen out there, if you had a cute, curvy bouncing blonde cutie sitting on your lap, grinding her hips into your junk, practically begging to ‘make your day’, would you care if your nails were painted Coral Pink?  I know, me neither. 

I’ve watched TV in that chair. I’ve studied for finals in that chair, gotten drunk in that chair, but until now, I’ve never had sex in that chair.  We were wild!   She rode me until I was crying out her name.  So much intensity like we’d never had before.  Claire pinned my arms over my head and continued to grind until I climaxed.  God….  That was hot!
We lay there in that recliner, Claire and I exhausted from our lovemaking.  She leaned over and kissed me deeply.  “Ready for round 2?”  She asked with a sly smile.

“Always…”  I answered as I held her tight and carried her back to the bed. It was weird, I thought.  Claire and I always had wonderful sex, but for some reason this time was hotter, more intense.  We grabbed.  We nibbled.  We moaned, and eventually we collapsed.

An hour later Claire and I shared a shower.  My nails still painted coral pink by the way.  We took turns soaping each other up.  I felt so randy, I’m surprised we didn’t spontaneously combust.  Claire was shampooing my hair and while her fingers massaged my scalp.  She asked me.  “Marty…  Have you ever thought of letting your hair grow out?’’  “I bet it would look hot”

To be continued.
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The young man stood in front of the Salon Demure and stared inside, just like he’d done day after day for the past week and a half.  He would stand there, and stare, eyes transfixed, watching all the activity inside, smiling a contented smile to himself.  But no one ever noticed.  He was good at hiding his actions behind sunglasses, or to read the paper, or to pretend to search for an address, or in the case of today, eat an ice cream.  No one ever knew what he was doing, or so he thought.

He was about to call it a day and return to his apartment, when the door to the salon opened and a stunningly beautiful woman walked out.  She looked at the young man, smiled and said, “Is there something we can do for you?”
Feeling he had been caught doing something wrong, he began to stammer.  “Ummm……  No”.  The man replied.  “I’m good”.

He started to leave when she put her arm into his and began to pull him gently inside the salon.  
“Please, at least come in and at least have some tea.”  She insisted.  :”You’ve been standing out there for so long, the least you could do would be to come in.”

His brain told him to resist, to leave, to never return, but something in her demeanor made him relax.  He followed the woman inside.

“I’m Rachel Demming.”  She told him, offering her hand. “And this is my shop.”  “Are you sure there isn’t something we can do for you here?”  She offered again as she led him over to a chair.  “We do pride ourselves on being a full-service salon.”  
“Something, for me?”  He blushed.  “No, no….  Nothing.”  He lied.  “I’m not a customer.”  “Actually I was checking out this property.”  “You know, for possible investment opportunities.”  “You see, I’m an investment counselor”  “My name’s Calvin.”  He yammered.  “Calvin Connors, at your service.”

Rachel smiled at the phrase, ‘at your service’.  “Soon, sweetie….”  She thought.  “Very soon”.

A pretty blonde girl carrying a tray offered Calvin some tea in a small china cup.  Calvin accepted and took a small sip of the tea.  “Mmmmm…..”  He said and took another sip.  “This is good.”

“So tell me more about this investment opportunity.”  Rachel continued.  “What possible business ventures could be had in a little strip mall like this one?”  She asked.

“You’d be surprised”.  Calvin said, now feeling a little more relaxed.  “There are opportunities everywhere.”  “All a person has to do is see those opportunities and be willing to take advantage of them.”

“Those are my sentiments exactly, Calvin”.  Rachel smiled as the poured offered him another cup of tea.  
Calvin blabbed on for a few more minutes before he began to feel light-headed.  His light-headedness eventually turned into fatigue and then in a rambled conversation concerning overseas real estate markets, Calvin finally passed out.  Rachel’s ‘tea’ had done him in.

Rachel exhaled.  “Finally….”  Then she called out, “OK, ladies…”  “The tea has done it job, now it’s time to do ours.”  
With that, four giggling employees of Salon Demure hustled out from the back of the salon.  They scooped up an unconscious Calvin Connors. They quickly removed his clothes then took him into the back.

Calvin woke up suddenly, with an ache in his head, and neck, and let’s face it, an ache everywhere.  “Damn”.  He thought.  “Where am I?”  He tried to move, but found he couldn’t.  As his vision cleared, he noticed his ankles were tied to a salon chair.  His wrists were tied up and lying on his lap.  He tried to look around and get his bearings, but something kept him from turning his head.  He felt warm air blowing on his neck.  The warmth seemed to settle Calvin a little.

On closer inspection, Calvin noticed that his hands aside from being tied together were sporting a new set of nail extensions that were lacquered a dark seductive color.   He didn’t like where this was going.  His upper body had been covered with a pink vinyl apron while his legs were uncovered and hairless.  He started to panic and tried to call out.  No words could form because besides being tied, he was also gagged.

Rachel appeared behind and asked.  “Are you alright, dear?”  “You seem in a bit of distress”

“Whfff dud yo do…”  Calvin tried to speak.

Rachel removed the ball gag to allow her captive to speak.  “What did you say, dear?”  “I’m afraid I didn’t get all that.”  She chuckled.

“What have you done?”  He spat out.  “Let me out of here now, before I…”

Rachel cut him off.  “Before you what?” “Before you jump up and run out?”  She asked.  “My girls did a fine job of trussing you up, so I doubt you’re going anywhere.”  “The way I see it, you’re stuck here.”  “You might as well just sit back your makeover.”  “After all, it’s what you wanted, right?”

“What I wanted?”  Calvin sputtered.  “I didn’t want this.”  “I came in here to assess this salon as a possible investment property.”  “You drugged me and are holding me captive.”  Calvin’s voice broke with panic.

“Please let me go….”  Calvin pleaded.  “My wife is waiting for me”.  “She’ll be worried if I don’t come home.”  “Please don’t do this”

“I’m not buying any of your lies, Calvin.”   Rachel told him.  “I know more about you than you think.”  
Calvin remained silent while Rachel continued.  “Aside for your name, everything else you’ve told me has been a lie.”   “You’re single and you live alone after your girlfriend dumped you.”  Rachel continued.  “You lost your job at Sterns and Hamilton Real Estate for what they said was an ‘inability to close’.”

“Since you lost that job, you haven’t paid your rent in two months.”  “Your landlord wants to toss you out and the gas company is threatening to shut off your heat.”  She told him.  “You’re in a bad way, Calvin.”

“You’re unemployed, broke and about to become homeless.”  “The only solace that you seemed to have found in your life was to hang around here. “  “You’ve been sitting out in front of my shop for weeks just staring inside.”

Cal wanted to argue but couldn’t.  Rachel was right.  He was on a downhill spiral.

“You need a change, young man.”  Rachel lectured.  “And this salon can provide that change.”

“I don’t need a change.”  Calvin pleaded.  “I don’t need a makeover.”  “I just want to go home.”  “Please??”

“It’s a little too late for begging, Calvin.”  “In fact, your makeover is all but done.”  Rachel held a small mirror up to Calvin’s face.  Calvin’s heart sank as he beheld his reflection.

His shoulder length hair had been dyed burgundy and rolled up using Velcro rollers.”  A hairnet held the curlers in place while he sat under one of the dryers.  Calvin’s eyebrows had even been plucked.  He’d never felt so embarrassed or looked so silly.

“Now then, let’s get those rollers out and see those pretty curls.”  “Then we’ll do your makeup.”  Rachel told him.  “And I believe the girls have found some suitable clothes for you, so you don’t have to sit around in your boxers while you learn the ropes”

“Learn the ropes?”  Calvin asked.

“Yes, silly.”  She smiled.  “You’ve got a lot to learn before you can work on the floor.”  “You’ll start as our receptionist while we teach you the rest.”

“But why??’  He asked as tears welled up in his eyes.  “Why did you do all this to me?”

“You just looked so sad out there.”  Rachel frowned as she said.   “You looked so despondent, I was afraid you mind end it all.”

“So I decided to give you something that very few people get.”  Rachel patted his newly manicured hands.  “I gave you a chance at a new life.”

Epilogue:  Six months later

‘Connie’ leaned in and began to wash the young man’s hair.  Her firm hands worked the shampoo into a lather.  Her feet hurt from the 4 inch heels she was required to wear, but she loved how they made her legs look.  She hated the black stretch pants that she had to wear, but felt that she looked cute in them.  At least that’s what those construction workers told her every morning as she walked to work.  

Connie’s hair had been dyed pink (for Easter, of course) and full of bouncy curls.  She had grown tired of always having to put her hair up at night, so Connie talked one of the girls into giving her a perm.  She was the epitome of a Salon Demure employee, now.  She was happy, gainfully employed and for the first time in a long time she felt at home in the salon.  
Rachel was right.  ‘Calvin’ had hit rock bottom and he had indeed considered taking his own life.  His daily trips to Salon Demure had reminded him of his childhood.  Since his parents had divorced when he was 8 and he was too young to be left alone.  Calvin was at the whim of his mother.  She would drag little Cal everywhere, to the market, to the post office, even to the beauty salon.

There at the salon, little impressionable Cal would sit and read his comic books, or so it would appear.  He would secretly watch his mother as the employees of the salon waited on his mother hand and foot.  She was pampered, she was fawned over.  She was treated like royalty.  The most important thing was that he looked so happy.  She looked at peace.  This made Calvin very happy.  Even when she was at her wits end, she always could find solace at the salon.  Cal recognized this, and somehow had hoped in those difficult days to find that solace as well.  Cal never found it…  But ‘Connie’ had.

Sorry, friends.   It’s been a while since I written a story.  I had a slight case of writers block.  Thanks so much to SFC78767 for giving me a little inspiration (and a kick in the pants) in the form of the picture which for some reason I can't add to the story.  Thanks to this inspiration, other stories are in the works including another Martina story.  
The young man stood in front of the Salon Demure and stared inside, just like he’d done day after day for the past week and a half.  He would stand there, and stare, eyes transfixed, watching all the activity inside, smiling a contented smile to himself.  But no one ever noticed.  He was good at hiding his actions behind sunglasses, or to read the paper, or to pretend to search for an address, or in the case of today, eat an ice cream.  No one ever knew what he was doing, or so he thought.
He was about to call it a day and return to his apartment, when the door to the salon opened and a stunningly beautiful woman walked out.  She looked at the young man, smiled and said, “Is there something we can do for you?”
Feeling he had been caught doing something wrong, he began to stammer.  “Ummm……  No”.  The man replied.  “I’m good”.  He started to leave when she put her arm into his and began to pull him gently inside the salon.  
“Please, at least come in and at least have some tea.”  She insisted.  :”You’ve been standing out there for so long, the least you could do would be to come in.”
His brain told him to resist, to leave, to never return, but something in her demeanor made him relax.  He followed the woman inside.  
“I’m Rachel Demming.”  She told him, offering her hand. “And this is my shop.”  “Are you sure there isn’t something we can do for you here?”  She offered again as she led him over to a chair.  “We do pride ourselves on being a full-service salon.”  
“Something, for me?”  He blushed.  “No, no….  Nothing.”  He lied.  “I’m not a customer.”  “Actually I was checking out this property.”  “You know, for possible investment opportunities.”  “You see, I’m an investment counselor”  “My name’s Calvin.”  He yammered.  “Calvin Connors, at your service.”  
Rachel smiled at the phrase, ‘at your service’.  “Soon, sweetie….”  She thought.  “Very soon”.  
A pretty blonde girl carrying a tray offered Calvin some tea in a small china cup.  Calvin accepted and took a small sip of the tea.  “Mmmmm…..”  He said and took another sip.  “This is good.”
“So tell me more about this investment opportunity.”  Rachel continued.  “What possible business ventures could be had in a little strip mall like this one?”  She asked.  
“You’d be surprised”.  Calvin said, now feeling a little more relaxed.  “There are opportunities everywhere.”  “All a person has to do is see those opportunities and be willing to take advantage of them.”  
“Those are my sentiments exactly, Calvin”.  Rachel smiled as the poured offered him another cup of tea.  
Calvin blabbed on for a few more minutes before he began to feel light-headed.  His light-headedness eventually turned into fatigue and then in a rambled conversation concerning overseas real estate markets, Calvin finally passed out.  Rachel’s ‘tea’ had done him in.
Rachel exhaled.  “Finally….”  Then she called out, “OK, ladies…”  “The tea has done it job, now it’s time to do ours.”  
With that, four giggling employees of Salon Demure hustled out from the back of the salon.  They scooped up an unconscious Calvin Connors. They quickly removed his clothes then took him into the back.
Calvin woke up suddenly, with an ache in his head, and neck, and let’s face it, an ache everywhere.  “Damn”.  He thought.  “Where am I?”  He tried to move, but found he couldn’t.  As his vision cleared, he noticed his ankles were tied to a salon chair.  His wrists were tied up and lying on his lap.  He tried to look around and get his bearings, but something kept him from turning his head.  He felt warm air blowing on his neck .The warmth seemed to settle Calving a little.
On closer inspection, Calvin noticed that his hands aside from being tied together were sporting a new set of nail extensions that were lacquered a dark seductive color.   He didn’t like where this was going.  His upper body had been covered with a pink vinyl apron while his legs were uncovered and hairless.  He started to panic and tried to call out.  No words could form because besides being tied, he was also gagged.  
Rachel appeared behind and asked.  “Are you alright, dear?”  “You seem in a bit of distress”  
“Whfff dud yo do…”  Calvin tried to speak.
Rachel removed the ball gag to allow her captive to speak.  “What did you say, dear?”  “I’m afraid I didn’t get all that.”  She chuckled.
“What have you done?”  He spat out.  “Let me out of here now, before I…”
Rachel cut him off.  “Before you what?” “Before you jump up and run out?”  She asked.  “My girls did a fine job of trussing you up, so I doubt you’re going anywhere.”  “The way I see it, you’re stuck here.”  “You might as well just sit back your makeover.”  “After all, it’s what you wanted, right?”
“What I wanted?”  Calvin sputtered.  “I didn’t want this.”  “I came in here to assess this salon as a possible investment property.”  “You drugged me and are holding me captive.”  Calvin’s voice broke with panic.  
“Please let me go….”  Calvin pleaded.  “My wife is waiting for me”.  “She’ll be worried if I don’t come home.”  “Please don’t do this”
“I’m not buying any of your lies, Calvin.”   Rachel told him.  “I know more about you than you think.”  
Calvin remained silent while Rachel continued.  “Aside for your name, everything else you’ve told me has been a lie.”   “You’re single and you live alone after your girlfriend dumped you.”  Rachel continued.  “You lost your job at Sterns and Hamilton Real Estate for what they said was an ‘inability to close’.”
“Since you lost that job, you haven’t paid your rent in two months.”  “Your landlord wants to toss you out and the gas company is threatening to shut off your heat.”  She told him.  “You’re in a bad way, Calvin.”
“You’re unemployed, broke and about to become homeless.”  “The only solace that you seemed to have found in your life was to hang around here. “  “You’ve been sitting out in front of my shop for weeks just staring inside.”  
Cal wanted to argue but couldn’t.  Rachel was right.  He was on a downhill spiral.  
“You need a change, young man.”  Rachel lectured.  “And this salon can provide that change.”  
“I don’t need a change.”  Calvin pleaded.  “I don’t need a makeover.”  “I just want to go home.”  “Please??”
“It’s a little too late for begging, Calvin.”  “In fact, your makeover is all but done.”  Rachel held a small mirror up to Calvin’s face.  Calvin’s heart sank as he beheld his reflection.
His shoulder length hair had been dyed burgundy and rolled up using Velcro rollers.”  A hairnet held the curlers in place while he sat under one of the dryers.  Calvin’s eyebrows had even been plucked.  He’d never felt so embarrassed or looked so silly.
“Now then, let’s get those rollers out and see those pretty curls.”  “Then we’ll do your makeup.”  Rachel told him.  “And I believe the girls have found some suitable clothes for you, so you don’t have to sit around in your boxers while you learn the ropes”
“Learn the ropes?”  Calvin asked.
“Yes, silly.”  She smiled.  “You’ve got a lot to learn before you can work on the floor.”  “You’ll start as our receptionist while we teach you the rest.”  
“But why??’  He asked as tears welled up in his eyes.  “Why did you do all this to me?”
“You just looked so sad out there.”  Rachel frowned as she said.   “You looked so despondent, I was afraid you mind end it all.”
“So I decided to give you something that very few people get.”  Rachel patted his newly manicured hands.  “I gave you a chance at a new life.”
Epilogue:  Six months later
‘Connie’ leaned in and began to wash the young man’s hair.  Her firm hands worked the shampoo into a lather.  Her feet hurt from the 4 inch heels she was required to wear, but she loved how they made her legs look.  She hated the black stretch pants that she had to wear, but felt that she looked cute in them.  At least that’s what those construction workers told her every morning as she walked to work.  
Connie’s hair had been dyed pink (for Easter, of course) and full of bouncy curls.  She had grown tired of always having to put her hair up at night, so Connie talked one of the girls into giving her a perm.  She was the epitome of a Salon Demure employee, now.  She was happy, gainfully employed and for the first time in a long time she felt at home in the salon.  
Rachel was right.  ‘Calvin’ had hit rock bottom and he had indeed considered taking his own life.  His daily trips to Salon Demure had reminded him of his childhood.  Since his parents had divorced when he was 8 and he was too young to be left alone.  Calvin was at the whim of his mother.  She would drag little Cal everywhere, to the market, to the post office, even to the beauty salon.
There at the salon, little impressionable Cal would sit and read his comic books, or so it would appear.  He would secretly watch his mother as the employees of the salon waited on his mother hand and foot.  She was pampered, she was fawned over.  She was treated like royalty.  The most important thing was that he looked so happy.  She looked at peace.  This made Calvin very happy.  Even when she was at her wits end, she always could find solace at the salon.  Cal recognized this, and somehow had hoped in those difficult days to find that solace as well.  Cal never found it…  But ‘Connie’ had.

Sorry, friends.   It’s been a while since I written a story.  I had a slight case of writers block.  Thanks so much to SFC78767 for giving me a little inspiration (and a kick in the pants) in the form of the picture as seen at the beginning of the story.  Thanks to this inspiration, other stories are in the works including another Martina story.  

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:iconparruhieranna:
parruhieranna Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Student Artist
thank you
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Natsuko-Hiragi Featured By Owner May 8, 2017  Professional Photographer
Hey thank you for watching us!^-^
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SuperSexyJuliet Featured By Owner May 8, 2017  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for watching me ^^
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TheRockinStallion Featured By Owner Apr 4, 2017  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Watch by TheRockinStallion  
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shoujodana Featured By Owner Apr 4, 2017
My pleasure....  I love your stuff
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SharpAmethyst Featured By Owner Mar 18, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the +WATCH!

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Lizlovestoons12 Featured By Owner Mar 14, 2017  Hobbyist Artist
If you don't mind my asking, why did you decide to watch me? The reason I ask is out of curiosity.
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shoujodana Featured By Owner Mar 14, 2017
I love toons too!
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Lizlovestoons12 Featured By Owner Mar 14, 2017  Hobbyist Artist
I see, example?
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LoveLatex64 Featured By Owner Mar 6, 2017
Thanks for the watch! So glad you found me as now I have found you :-)
Still going through your lovely stories, will put my watch on you as well!
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