Doll House - The Salon Pt. 02

I stepped out of the tub, feeling curiously invigorated after a thorough washing from Miss Hunter. Exploring my chest and front, I was surprised to see that the cuts she had inflicted were already partially healed up. I couldn't help but notice the silky smoothness of my own skin as I inspected the wounds... I had never felt so soft before! In fact, my skin usually had a nasty habit of drying out and getting a little rough, especially in the late winter. Whatever they were using here was pretty damn good, as nothing I had attempted to moisturize with ever seemed particularly successful - as Megan was apt to point out.

"Here you go sugar, use this to dry off," Miss Hunter said as she handed me a pink towel with white polka dots. "Once you're done, come see me over by the styling chair."

"Yes Miss Hunter," I murmured, still entranced with her beauty. She had been mostly quiet during the wash, focusing on her work with a firm but gentle precision. I felt like... I wasn't sure. Like a prized possession, maybe? Whatever it was, I didn't want these new feelings to stop.

I had mostly dried myself off when I took a closer look at the towel. Pink and white... I looked around the room again and noticed that the motif for the entire area seemed to follow this same trend. The curtains covering the walls, the tub, the bath mat, the clothing on the rack... Now that I wasn't bombarded with new sensations and mesmerized by yet another Sterling Holdings associate, it dawned on me that it was everywhere. And I had to admit, it did seem a little odd.

After I finished drying up I made my way toward the styling chair, wrapping the towel around my lower half in an attempt at some modesty. Miss Hunter appeared from the partition as she heard me approach; in her arms was a plush, comfortable-looking, pink robe. Hmm.

She grinned after looking me over "Aww, honey, aren't you cute!" I blushed. "Go ahead and wrap yourself up with this, then take a seat. We'll start looking at what we can do with that hair..." Blushing, I reached out and took the robe, thanking her and giving a half-smile in the process. I cleared my throat and looked off to the side, avoiding her gaze as I began to speak.

"Thank you, Miss Hunter. I was noticing there's a lot of like... pink with everything... What's ahh..."

"Now, now, don't you worry Samantha," she interrupted. "I'll get to explaining everything soon. We do things a certain way here, that's all. And besides," she coaxed gently, "the pink looks good on you!"

My face turned darker than the robe, prompting Miss Hunter to let out a chuckle and bright smile as I slipped the robe on. Even though I wasn't thrilled with the color, at least it felt really nice. I sat in the chair, anxious for more information. When my butt hit the styling chair, I suddenly thought about my hair - and how I couldn't see it! It had been a few months since my last cut; normally I would cut it down quite short, leaving a small amount for bangs to play around with up top. In fact, I had been due to head to the barber next week. As it was, my hair had definitely gained some volume, but hadn't otherwise grown out all that much. At least in my estimation.

"Mmmm, interesting..." Miss Hunter cooed as she ran her nails along my scalp, assessing her canvas. "A nice, full head of hair here... Still too short for most acceptable cuts though...Hmph!" She squeaked, playfully pushing my head away. "An idea!" She disappeared behind the partition for a moment, suddenly wheeling a small cart with shears, a razor, and other assorted tools toward the styling chair. "You have a nice, sandy looking blonde color to you, "she mused, again tussling my hair idly. "I think it would be best to lighten that up slightly, add a little red in there... go for a nice strawberry blond with some highlighting..." she gathered a chunk of hair into a fist, shaking it firmly for a moment before pausing. "Yes. And the perfect cut is obvious. Samantha, honey, you are gonna love it!" She beamed.

I smiled, relaxing a little bit as Miss Hunter began the process for dying my hair. Closing my eyes, moments from the last several hours began flashing through my head: the receptionist; Miss Hunter's shave; Miss Sterling's office; Miss Sterling. That beautiful, luscious ass. Worshiping her from behind began playing over and over again in my mind, like a broken record. I carefully moved my hands towards my crotch, trying to hide my arousal in the plush folds of the robe. I heard a giggle escape Miss Hunter. Apparently I wasn't so careful.

Without warning there was a hand rubbing around my groin with startling accuracy, massaging around and working its way underneath the pile of robe I had created. Hot, heavy breath splashed across my face - I opened my eyes in surprise, finding Miss Hunter leaning just over my body, a predator ready to hunt.

"We need to wait for the dyes to do their job," she whispered, her tone taking a serious inflection. "I guess that means a little more time to play with the new toy." My eyes widened as her hand darted through the robe and grabbed at my balls, instantly planting her nails like stakes across her grip. I yelped as my body jolted, unprepared for the pain.

Her eyes bore into me the entire time, satisfied with my response. Her mouth slightly opened and a wistful sigh came out as she leaned back slightly, glancing over at her hand. "Now Samantha, no moving around! If you mess up the dye or foil, we're gonna have ourselves a problem..." A smirk spread across her face as her voice trailed off. Her grip relaxed, with one nail lightly grazing the head of my cock. I let out a slight moan of delight, closing my eyes to focus on the pleasure.

"Good girl, Samantha... It's not all bad..." Her fingers moved abruptly, pinching the skin of my cock between her nails. I inhaled sharply, shocked by the sudden change but fighting the urge to jump. "Then again, it's not all good, either..." Miss Hunter grumbled facetiously. She then twisted my cock, causing yet another new pain I wasn't ready for. I held my breath and tensed, desperate to stay as still as possible. "What's the matter, girl?" she mocked, intensely staring as she smiled widely. "Is that a little painful?" Her hand rapidly twisted the other direction, followed by a quick scratching motion along my shaft.

Despite my efforts, my legs straightened and I couldn't help but yell out from the pain. As quickly as I had registered it, a new sensation had already begun; she was now massaging my balls and the base of my cock. "Clearly it's not all bad," she teased. "Seems like your cock isn't too upset, anyway." Once again my erection stood at odds with the... negative attention I was receiving.

I looked into her eyes helplessly, searching for clues as to what might happen next, or what she was even thinking. It was clear that in another life she could very well have been a successful poker player - I couldn't read anything beyond the intense predatory energy radiating from her entire demeanor.

Her hand meandered back toward my cock, becoming more deliberate as it reached the head. My body tensed, prepared for the worst. Sensing this, Miss Hunter bucked expectations, gently using her nails and fingertips to graze the head of my cock. How unbelievably sensitive! I could hardly handle all the information getting sent through my nervous system. I closed my eyes, gasping with pleasure.

"Yes... See, Samantha? I can be nice!" Miss Hunter's voice had taken on a perky tone, reminiscent of the typical sorority girl. My cock raged from the attention; I could feel her fingers getting slippery from precum. Using the pad of her finger, she slowly opened the tip of my cock, massaging the skin very gently. It was driving me absolutely wild. My body began slightly bucking and moans escaped my lips with more frequency. I felt as though I could explode at any moment, her fingers exploring underneath the head of my cock and playing delicately near the bottom of the tip.

Right when I couldn't wait any longer, a hand suddenly pinched one of my nipples. Hard. I was caught completely by surprise and yelped in pain. It wasn't over; almost as quickly, I felt an invasion of nails on the head of my cock, immediately destroying the pleasurable sensations that had been flooding my nerves seconds earlier. A shock of pain traveled down my cock as she scratched her way down the shaft. I could feel my back arching as I tried to keep my head and shoulders still. Miss Hunter's hand made its way to my balls, pressing, twisting, squeezing. The pain came to me in intense packets as she deftly moved her hand, alternating its position to continue tormenting me. Our eyes locked and the devilish grin on her faced seared itself into my mind. She was clearly enjoying this.

"Just a little longer, honey," she murmured, her tone of voice the complete opposite of her violent handiwork. "Shhh..."

The pain kept coming, nearly to the point where it became unbearable. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, and my resistance was starting to fail. My breathing was hard and heavy as my body flagged in its ability to accommodate the pain.

Suddenly Miss Hunter's lips were locked with mine; her tongue invaded my mouth, exploring aggressively and engaging my own passionately. The hands still pinched - my mind became confused, receiving strong signals of both pain and pleasure simultaneously. I could sense myself being overtaken by the kiss, as the painful grips suddenly felt a bit more dull. As the kiss continued, the pain subsided even further. It stopped completely as her fingers began whimsically grazing my balls, then my cock.

My brain had barely caught up when Miss Hunter pulled away, licking her lip and beaming. "Mmmm... That was so nice. Thank you, sugar." She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, visibly aroused. Looking at my hair, she nodded contentedly. "We should be ready to continue very soon. I'll be right back, Sami," she turned and headed toward the door. Her head craned back as she pulled the handle. "And Sami - leave your hands down by your sides, honey." She winked, blew a kiss and swiftly left the room.

Leave your hands down by your sides. It's like she knew I was incredibly horny. Not interested in displeasing anyone I had met today, I fought the temptation and kept my hands relaxed and down, spending the time to mentally talk myself down from my nearly delirious state.

...

The scissors moved gracefully to and fro, hair falling like autumn leaves all around the styling chair. It wasn't excessive... but there was a good amount of it.

"So," Miss Hunter continued, "Miss Sterling has been doing this for quite some time. By this point, she has developed a program that increases the success of her dolls considerably. It's also helped the gurls enjoy the transitional periods and various duties too, so that's a big plus."

"Thank you for some of the background, Miss Hunter." Things were becoming clearer. "May I ask where all the pink and white fit in to this?"

"Ah! Yes." Miss Hunter smiled. "There are many people who come in and out of Miss Sterling's life, and she realized that just as it is helpful for employees to be easily recognizable by something like a uniform, the same idea could be utilized for her gurls. New gurls are restricted to pink and white. Miss Sterling has found that gurls inundated with these colors undergo feminization more easily at the beginning, especially with the pink." She let out a light-hearted laugh. "Dolls start becoming naturally submissive, dainty, more feminine in demeanor... just from all the pink! Of course, there are other things working to enhance the effect... but it certainly helps."

The explanation was embarrassing and a little surprising. However it seemed to make sense. I shrugged my shoulders slightly. "That doesn't seem too bad, Miss. It's interesting that it works so well."

"Ooooh, you'll see," she clucked, pausing to rub my shoulder. "Before you know it, you'll be one of the gurls!" A serious demeanor overtook her as she continued cutting. "Now honey, there's more to it than just helping you feel girly. Just like a uniform, your clothing will identify you. All the staff, other gurls, Ladies, visitors will all know your status as an entry level doll. A lot of them will refer to you as a sissy."

The word hung in the air for several seconds as Miss Hunter finished with a few more cuts, putting the shears down on the table. Sissy. My brow furrowed. She saw the look of concern on my face as she began spraying my hair. "Sami, honey, don't sweat it too much. Being one of the sissies is just part of the process - all the gurls go through the phase. A lot of them like it!"

I wasn't convinced. However there wasn't much I could do. I let out a sigh of helplessness as Miss Hunter helped me from the styling chair to a table covered with various tools for nails and makeup. She frowned slightly as she began prepping my nails for painting. "As a sissy you will be subjected to a lot of things the other gurls don't have to deal with as much. You will also be expected to do whatever is asked of you, no matter who the direction comes from. The best gurls do as they're told and let the growth wash over them as it happens. The gurls who fight it tooth and nail," she made a grunting "as-if" noise under her breath. "They find themselves with a lot of problems and a lot more pain..." she trailed off, disinterested in explaining further.

We sat in silence for several minutes as I digested this new information. I could feel a knot in my stomach, growing ever larger. I watched as Miss Hunter selected a polish for my nails. Pink. Kind of like bubblegum. She began painting my fingernails, quickly putting on several coats that looked perfectly applied. She had mentioned keeping still once the polish was on, so I tried to keep my arms still as statues. She broke the silence first.

"Okay, honey. Please put your feet a little forward onto those pads so I can do your toes."

"Yes, Miss."

Before she stooped under the table, Miss Hunter put a hand reassuringly on my wrist, meeting my gaze lovingly. "Don't worry, Sami. Miss Sterling has a knack for picking great candidates for her dolls. And I can tell you, from what I've seen of you..." she smiled intently. "You're going to be wonderful. You're already well-mannered, and you will be gorgeous, if I do say so myself!" Her grinned lightened the mood, helping me to smile a little bit myself. "Yes, Miss," I replied, blushing slightly.

Miss Hunter's voice boomed from underneath the table as she applied polish to my toes. "After you pass some qualifications and undergo a portion of your training, you'll eventually earn your way into the pastels! Those are the dolls who have a strong foundation and no longer need to be a part of the sissy component of the program." She grunted as she came back from under the table, twisting the cap back on the polish. "You're a smart young gurl, so I'm, sure you've figured out that the pastels have access to light, pastel-style shades for their clothing," she smiled. "A lot of the gurls get very excited when they earn their colors because of the possibilities in opens up in their wardrobe!"

She glanced at my fingers and toes, pleased with her work. "These look fantastic. We'll wait a few more minutes here before we do makeup and get some clothing ready."

I looked at my fingers, impressed by their feminine appearance. If all I saw was a picture of the hand I was staring at now, I would easily believed it belonged to a woman. I sighed, anxious about living my life by an enforced color scheme. "Is there a time I may wear normal colors again, Miss?"

Miss Hunter smiled, happy to see I was engaged in the conversation - even if I was concerned by what I was learning. "Why yes, yes there is, honey. After you become a pastel doll, you will have an opportunity to graduate to a full fledged "gurl," one of the top dolls Miss Sterling has in her employ. Those gurls may wear any colors or combinations they like, except for red. While you are under contract with Sterling Holdings, the color red is explicitly reserved for ladies. The only way around that is if you are specifically asked by Miss Sterling to wear red." There was no joking in her voice. This was clearly a significant piece of information; I committed it to memory quickly.

"By the time you earn color choice, you're going to be very skilled at coordinating outfits and looking great at all times. It will be very exciting! It always is... for all of us." As the smile spread across her face, it was undoubtedly authentic. Her sincerity helped to put me more at ease. I can do this. I can do this.

"Ok!" she chirped abruptly. "I think we are ready for makeup."

...

The memories were flooding back. The clothes were different - more involved - this time, but the same sensations I first felt during that Rocky Horror showing had returned. Miss Hunter had picked out an absurdly... well, sissy outfit for me. But, perhaps more absurdly... I didn't exactly hate it.

Impossibly sheer white silk stockings sheathed my legs, an almost heavenly feeling against my freshly shaved legs. I couldn't believe the difference it made in sensation. They were attached my 8 heavy-duty looking, metallic garters that attached to a satin baby pink corset, complete with a rose colored trim, and white laces in the back. Laces which Miss Hunter had taken the liberty to tie quite snugly. Breathing was definitely more of a challenge now. The corset did not cover my whole chest; it stopped on my ribs jest below the sternum, focusing its cinching power on my waist. Miss Hunter called this an "underbust," and said not to worry as all these terms would become very familiar, and soon. The look of surprise and satisfaction after she tied it was encouraging. "Damn!" She had howled, "That really took in your waist... you look amazing!! You're going to love it."

Covering the rest of my chest was a lacy, delicate, baby pink bra with small inserts sewn into the fabric. This was followed by a matching pair of lacy pink panties which she had me slip over the garter straps - "You'll totally understand, later" she had quipped - completing my lingerie. "This will be your basic clothing foundation, nearly every day," she explained. "This will typically be what you are expected to be wearing underneath your clothing, at all times. You'll be a pro at getting into this in no time! You will also need to be able to assist another person into this same foundation... with your goal of assisting Miss Sterling when necessary."

"Yes, Miss." The thought of helping Miss Sterling dress, or undress, nearly put me into a trance just standing there. Miss Hunter quickly brought me back to reality by shoving more clothes into my arms.

The dress was incredibly pretty and feminine, even looking at it as I held it out in front of myself. The body came in slightly toward the middle, and flared out on the skirt, which hardly look long enough to cover my ass. The body was a soft, white blend of fabrics while the skirt appeared to be pink. Both portions of the dress were covered liberally with several layers of wispy pink and white lace, floral patterns delicately embroidered throughout. The lace continued up past the poly fabric to cover the upper chest, and was made into very beautiful but fragile lace sleeves. The shoulders, collar and arm cuffs of the dress had been made with a sturdier white lace, standing out from the embellishing lace spread throughout the rest of the dress. Heavy lace detailing in pink came down from the shoulders toward the middle of the dress, lending a sort of German dirndl style, or even the sensibilities of a classic maid uniform. A set of white bows on top of pink bows sat atop the end of the pink lace detailing toward the waist portion of the dress.