Cindy’s Wedding – Part 1 by NovoWriter
It was mid-afternoon on a particularly sunny April day. Susan was busy with the fondue fixings she was setting up for their little party with the Fishers that evening. The blender was whirring away on the chocolate sauce for dessert. Susan was up to her pretty elbows in grated cheese. Just as she turned to drop a one-cup measure into the sink, the phone rang, startling her. She spun around, flipping her flowing, dark brown hair into the dishwater. She stumbled over a Tupperware bowl which had fallen to the floor during the cooking exercise. She only managed to keep her feet by grabbing the phone fixture on the wall.
“Susan? It’s Cindy!”
“Cindy! How’ve you been? School should be pretty much over now, shouldn’t it?” Susan’s cousin and erstwhile kid sister, three years younger, was graduating from college in June.
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“Not soon enough for me! Guess what!”
“What do you mean, guess what?”
“Craig and I are getting married!”
“What? When? When did all this happen?” Cindy and Craig, Susan knew, had been dating on and off since they were seniors in high school. Her uncle Bart had never liked the guy, but then, uncle Bart thought everyone who got close to the family was only after money. Everyone that is, except her Jack, who uncle Bart had almost hand-picked for her – to Susan’s eternal gratitude.
“August fifteenth, about two months after graduation. Teri and Kate and Micki are in the wedding and I want you to be a bridesmaid too. Will you do it?”
Susan hesitated for only a moment – too short, really, for Cindy to notice. “Of course I’ll do it, Silly. What do your Mom and Dad think?”
The chit chat continued for another ten minutes, then Susan asked about the particulars.
“Mom wants this to be a whole summer-long affair, with showers and teas and dinners and parties. I need you to be there for the whole time, from June through August.” Susan started to protest, but Cindy cut her off. “Don’t worry, Daddy will pay for Jack to come up every weekend he wants, and we’re giving each of the bridesmaids a vacation for two to Bali as a present from me. So with a couple months of your time, you’ll get a great vacation out of it.”
“It’s not that, Cindy, it’s just that I don’t want to be away from him for all those days.” She paused in thought, remembering all her uncle and aunt had done for her since her parents died. She owed them big-time and couldn’t disappoint her aunt. “But I’ll work it out so I can be there he whole time.”
“That’s great! We’ll plan to see you then.”
“OK, bye for now.”
“Bye … Oh Susan, don’t forget our deal.”
The phone clicked off before Susan could ask, “What deal?”
She was swirling a strawberry in chocolate sauce about seven hours later when the ‘deal’ came home to her.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “Jack, I remember what the deal was now!”
“What? Oh, Susan, I didn’t know that was bothering you.”
“It wasn’t, but I suddenly remembered it.” Claudia Fisher stared at her as Susan reached to pull her hair around her shoulders, a heavy bunch of it in each hand. She rested her chin in her hands, pushing the hair up to her mouth. “Remember, Jack, when we got engaged, I asked Cindy to be a bridesmaid. At that time, Cindy was a little wild and had short, weird hair – pink as I recall – and dressed in all black clothes. My aunt told her she would have to straighten out her appearance to be in the wedding, and my aunt wouldn’t give her a choice anyway.”
“Yea, so what?”
“Well, Cindy had always worn her hair short and didn’t have any interest at all in growing it out for the year and a half before our wedding.”
“So how did you get her to do it?” Claudia asked, unable to see how any woman would let another person influence her appearance.
“Cindy was always a schemer, so I suppose she got the best of the deal, really. I had to write three term papers for her and …”
“And what Susan?” Jack, who had been only half listening, was giving her his full attention now.
“And she made me promise, in front of my aunt, to wear my hair and makeup and dress however she wanted for her wedding, whenever it came.”
“Oh Susan, that was three years ago.”
“But why would she remind me if she didn’t have something in mind?”
“So what, you don’t have to do it.”
“But you don’t see … I mean, she did something that took her over a year and a half. And, besides, I can’t do anything to disappoint my aunt, by making Cindy unhappy during her wedding time.”
“Your aunt would never make you do that.”
“But you don’t understand. Cindy and I … Oh! What will I do? I wanted everyone in my wedding party to have long hair. I can’t blame Cindy if she wants …”
* * * * *
“Have you got everything you’ll need for the summer?” Jack had the suitcases in the car and was holding the carry-on bag. “I guess I can bring anything you need when I come up in three weeks.”
“I think so, anyway, my aunt will probably buy me anything I forget – she’s like that, you know.” Susan and Jack clung together in a lingering kiss as the agent at the gate announced her flight.
“Suzy, don’t worry about it.” He flicked his hand at her hair. She had it long and lazily curled, down to the middle of her back, and pulled back from her forehead with a pale yellow barrette, the same color as the tiny print flowers in her blue sun dress.
“Jack, would you like me with short hair?”
“Susan, my silly Susan, I would love you – and like you – if you didn’t have any hair at all. Now stop worrying about it. You haven’t seen Cindy for ages – with her off in Idaho at school. She’s probably not thought of it at all.” Patting her lovingly on her cute, little bottom, he sent her off. “Now git or you’ll miss your plane!”
* * * * *
There was Cindy at the end of the concourse and Susan couldn’t believe it. A wave of relief swept over her. Cindy’s hair, always short, had obviously not been cut since she started growing it out for Susan’s wedding. Her hair was, if anything, at least as long as Susan’s.
After the hugging and kissing and fast joking, Cindy led her up to the reception area.
“Com’on, Susan, I want you to meet the other girls in the wedding.”
Three girls popped out of their seats in the terminal as they waked up. Susan, in an instant, felt as though she had been punched below her ribs. A sick, sinking feeling rose from her stomach. Standing, smiling before her, were three items in a matched set, three girls with the shortest, curliest hair Susan had ever seen.
“Girls, meet my cousin and ‘big sister’ Susan – the fourth member of your group!”
* * * * *
They had driven to within a few miles of home, Susan saying almost nothing, waiting for Cindy to say what she knew was coming. Then it happened.
“Susan, after meeting Micki and Teri and Kate, I’m sure you know what ‘style’ I want for the wedding.”
“Yes,” Susan answered numbly.
“You’ll do it, won’t you? Mom thinks it will look really elegant – me with this long hair and my attendants with contrasting hair.”
“Yes, I’ll do it,” Susan replied, again softly, almost inaudibly.
“Do you want me to make the appointment for you?”
“No, I will.”
“I want you to be all set for the first shower on Sunday.”
“I will be. I’ll call this afternoon. I’ll go tomorrow.” * * * * *
Susan pulled the phonebook from underneath the table. It seemed many times heavier than it really was. She paged absently through it, one page at a time, until, a while later, she came to the ‘Beauty Salons’ listings in the Yellow Pages. It took only a moment more. There was one close by, with a good reputation as she remembered it, although what difference that made she wasn’t sure.
“All About Hair Salon.” The girl on the other end sounded friendly enough. Susan relaxed a tiny bit.
“This is Susan Weston calling. I’m in town for my cousin’s wedding and I need to get my hair done tomorrow … it … it has to be tomorrow ’cause the shower … is … Sunday.”
“You’re in luck, I …”
“I have to tell you what I want done, ’cause I … I’m nervous about it and I want to see if you can do it and set it up before I come.” Susan realized she was rambling and tried to get a grip on herself.
“My … my hair is real long – down to the middle of my back – and dark brown. It’s usually pretty straight too – it never takes much of a curl. As it is, I’m the only girl in the wedding party with long hair and, I guess, I look kinda out of place with the other girls.”
“The other three girls all have their hair exactly alike so I … I need to get mine done the same way.”
“All right. What did you have in mind?”
“I have to get it cut very short, I mean really short, and tightly curled, all over my head.” Susan breathed a heavy sigh. That had been one of the most difficult statements she had ever had to make. “Do you… do you do that sort of thing?”
“Yes we do.” Why did the girl sound so cheerful?
“What would you have to do? I mean, how would you do it? I mean, get it so curly and all?”
“You say it has to be tightly curled and short all over?”
“Is your hair thick or thin?”
“It’s sort of … medium I guess.”
“And it doesn’t curl naturally?’
“Well, we’ll have to give you a tight permanent if you need that style.”
“Would you cut it first?” ‘Stupid question, Susan!’ she thought. “Oh yes.”
“How … how would you get the curls into it? Would it have to be very short? You see, I’ve never, ever, had hair shorter than shoulder length.
“Well, that depends on what you want, but based on what you’ve said, it couldn’t be more than a few inches. How tight to the head is it? Can you bring a picture of what you want?”
“Yes, I can get a picture. Their curls stick out less than an inch from their heads.”
“Oh, that’s short all right. But we can take care of it if that’s what you want, or what you have to do. You’re in luck. I’ve just had a cancellation for tomorrow morning. Can you come at 9:30?”
“Yes.” Susan was breathing as hard s though she’d just run a mile. “How long will it take?”
“Well, that depends on how long your hair is and how long it takes to get a curl, but I’d say at least three hours.”
“If I don’t like it afterwards, can I get the curl out? Will it relax any by itself?”
“You can get it straightened. That’s just about like a permanent in reverse. You might have some curl left, though. Our permanents are made to last so it will probably hold tight until it grows out if left by itself.”
“Will I have to pin it up, and will it get frizzy?”
“No, it’ll curl right up after you wash it. Have you colored it or had a permanent before?”
“Then it should come out just fine – no frizz. If the ends split while we’re permming it, we’ll trim them off when we’re done. OK? At 9:30?”
“And you’re …”
“Susan … Susan Weston.”
* * * * *
Susan stared at her reflection, the beautiful, long hair rippling down her back and over her shoulders, having just enough curl to cup her breasts. The hair gracefully framed her lovely, oval face and the large, dark eyes that seemed to smile in spite of the way she felt. Those smoky, sexy eyes, Jack would say, beneath somewhat heavy brows gave her a look of Madonna-like beauty and understanding. She pulled the size five dress over her 5’4″ frame and applied her usual little bit of makeup, only some powder and mascara. Her usually precise, frosted white nail polish was slightly sloppy this morning. She had been unable to completely control the shaking as she put it on. Susan walked the ten blocks to the beauty shop, paused before the door, and walked in.
The receptionist spoke in a voice Susan remembered from the day before,
“My, you do have lovely hair. Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Susan could only nod slightly.
“All right. I’ve scheduled you with Erin. She’s quick and good and most girls find that she puts them at ease the way she works. If you have the picture, I’ll take it back to her – you don’t seem in much condition to tell her what you want. I’ll pass on what you said yesterday.
Susan gave her two pictures of Teri, noticed the girl’s eyebrows rise a bit, and sat down to wait. With great difficulty, she resisted the urge to grab her hair and run out the door. She folded her hands in her lap and sat on the edge of the sofa.
A taller, older woman with medium length, reddish blond hair came out, the picture in her hand.
Susan rose and followed her back, seemingly back for hours, into a simple cubicle with a chair, sink, and cabinets for the ‘things’ of hairdressing, and a single mirror on one wall. The woman reached into a drawer and pulled out a gown.
“Hi Susan, I’m Erin. You can change into this across the hall. Take off your dress first – that’ll keep it from getting soiled or mussed.
There was no mirror in the changing room, just a rack and hangers. Susan changed quickly, shaking, at times severely, her hands cold as ice. She returned to Erin.
“It has to be just like the picture?” Erin asked, seating Susan in the chair and rotating her away from the mirror.
“Yes.” Susan swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry.
“Fine. Try to take it easy. You have a fine, oval face so any style will look good on you. I’m going to cut away the bulk of it first, then shape it for the perm, then give you the perm.”
“I might cry.”
“That’s all right, Dear, you wouldn’t be the first. I understand.”
Susan felt the chair rise as Erin moved her closer. The hairdresser pulled her hair behind her shoulders and combed it out. “I’m going to start now.”
Susan bit her lip, closed her eyes tight. Tears began to form in them anyway and rolled down her cheeks. She felt the tug on her hair, the coolness of scissors on the right side of her chin as Erin brushed against her, and heard the quick “snip” as the metal closed about her hair. She felt the lock, now lost forever, slide across her shoulder. It fell to the floor. Another snip followed, and another. She felt her hair bunching together in the back. Erin combed it smooth and snipped again. Tears came slowly but steadily. Eventually, she felt Erin make a final cut of the long tresses on the left side. Most of it, that luxuriant hair of hers, that hair she loved, that Jack loved, lay strewn on the floor.
She heard sweeping below her and opened her eyes long enough to see another girl, the receptionist she realized, sweeping up the now useless hair. As she tilted her head to look, a shortened lock of hair flipped into her face, the ends now tickling he corners of her lip. She reached up with her hand. The tears came in a flood.
Erin stopped working for a few minutes, long enough for Susan to drink a little tea and sob it out. She kept Susan turned away from the mirror as she swung her around to the sink. She tilted her back, washed her hair, blotted it dry and announced, “I’m going to shape it now.”
Susan, eyes still closed, felt the hairdresser begin at the top in front cutting, cutting, cutting all over her head. Time seemed to be moving faster now. Susan, far from calm, no longer cried.
“How long is my hair now?” She asked, somewhat surprised at herself for speaking at all.
“About two inches all over, Susan. I’m going to roll it up now. To get the effect in the picture, that very tight curl, I’m going to use these micro curlers, so this will take a while. I’ll also use our strongest waving lotion, since your hair is so straight now.”
It did take a while, forty-five minutes or so, to roll it up. Erin immediately began to apply the waving lotion, saturating the hair on each curler, then soaking Susan’s whole head again.
In twenty minutes she checked a curl. “Not nearly tight enough.” She rolled it back up again and continued the small talk she had begun while rolling it up. Susan answered very little. That didn’t seem to bother Erin as she continued on.
Fifteen minutes later the curl was still not tight enough. Ten minutes more and Erin announced, “done,” and began applying neutralizer all over Susan’s head. Then carefully, one at a time, she removed the curlers. When they were all out, she applied more neutralizer, waited a few minutes and rinsed it out in the sink. She towel-dried Susan’s now incredibly curly hair and began to dry it with a blower that had a diffuser on the end. She tousled the curls with her fingers as she dried it. It dried in just a couple of minutes. Susan continued, trimming a spot here and there, puffing and patting the hairdo. She finally spoke again.
“It’s all finished, Susan. With your face, it looks delightful! I’m going to turn you toward the mirror now. Be prepared for a shock of course since it’s so very different from how it was. But I’m sure in a few days you’ll like it very much. Slowly, she turned Susan toward the mirror. When she felt the chair stop, Susan opened her eyes.
“Oh … oh!” She exclaimed, not in a loud voice. Her hand reached up to touch the tightly curled mass which was now all that remained of a once lovely, flowing mane. She felt a cloud, a feeling of unreality, a pressure in her head and a ringing in her ears come over her. She thought she was going to faint. Erin was ready with a glass of Coke. She sipped it, her eyes closing again. After a minute, she opened them and tried to examine herself. Her head looked so naked, felt so light, her neck so bare. ‘I look like a little girl, or a cupie doll,’ she thought. ‘I’m cute, not beautiful anymore.’
Taking her hand, Erin led her across the hall and helped her into her dress. “It really does look nice on you, Susan. You’ll look darling at the wedding.”
“Th … th … thanks, Erin.” Susan paid the receptionist and left the shop, walking slowly down the street in a daze. She occasionally reached up to run her fingers through the tight curls. She was astonished at how tight they were, at how little hair there was, at how difficult it was even to get them to uncurl enough to pass her fingers through.
“This isn’t me anymore,” she thought, before her thoughts trailed off and she continued numbly down the street.
End Part 1
Cindy’s Wedding – Part 2 by NovoWriter (email@example.com)
“Susan, you look great! That’s perfect! Just what I had in mind!” Cindy rushed up to hug Susan as she bent down to put her purse in the closet.
Straightening up, Susan instinctively reached up to brush hair from her face – hair that was no longer there. She reddened and fumbled with the curls above her ear.
Cindy looked at her cousin’s mass of short, tight curls. She thought Susan looked really cute. Not the ravishing beauty that her longer hair had afforded her, true, but her pleasant face pulled off the look well. Cindy resisted the urge to flip her long hair, not wanting to upset her cousin further. That would certainly come later anyway.
“Susan, let’s hurry and have lunch. Elsa Clarke is coming over this afternoon to do our makeup – it’s all my treat – it’ll make your ‘new look’ even better,” she quickly added, noting Susan’s sinking expression.
“You never said anything about makeup,” Susan managed. Cindy seemed to be talking from far away. That detached feeling continued through lunch, up to the arrival of Elsa and Teri.
Cindy handed Susan a small, wrapped package. “Here, Suzy, a little present from me for being such a good sport and all.” Susan opened it. It held two, one-inch diameter, gold pierced-earrings.
“Cindy, my ears aren’t pierced!” She exclaimed.
“Don’t worry, Cuz, Elsa will take care of that in no time, right Elsa? Comon’, Susan, just sit down over here and we can start.”
Susan felt as though she were being railroaded but was too shocked from the morning’s haircut and perm and Cindy’s sharply barked commands to offer resistance. Trying unsuccessfully to muster some inner strength, she found herself unable to respond in her own defense. She had been psychologically shocked into a receptive state without a will of her own.
Cindy seated her at the dressing table in her room. “Ears first,” Cindy announced to Elsa.
Susan had never had her ears pierced. It seemed too drastic to have metal thrust through a part of her body and left there until the body healed around it. Although far from a feminist, Susan still regarded ear piercing as a sign of submission which she couldn’t bring herself to accept. Now, however, she just sat there perfectly still, saying nothing, as Elsa rubbed her earlobes with an antiseptic. Then, suddenly, she felt a sharp sting as the needle pierced her right ear. “Stop!” She shouted.
Elsa jerked back, leaving the needle pushed through Susan’s ear like an arrow.
“Stop it, Susan! Be quiet and sit down!” Cindy snapped. She was in control of her cousin now she knew. Oh yes she was! Cindy had carefully planned how to gain that control. She knew Susan well – they had grown up together as sisters for years. She knew her cousin’s sensitive points and knew how to manipulate them from years of study in school, studies with special emphasis on resocialization and dominance. Knowing her cousin’s spirit was weakened and disoriented by her severe hair restyling a few hours before, Cindy was ready to apply her training. Holding the tone of her voice tightly controlled, she had Susan seated again like a submissive puppy, in spite of the turmoil in progress in Susan’s mind.
In a moment, Susan felt another prick and her left ear was pierced. Elsa threaded the small rings through the holes in Susan’s ears by flexing them to the side and inserting one end into an indentation in the end of the needle. She then pushed the needle through and the ring followed. She closed the ring with a “snap.”
“These rings lock in place so they won’t come out, Susan.” Cindy told her.
“That way you can never lose them.” ‘And you can’t take them out yourself when you get your senses back,’ she thought.
“They’re bigger than what is usually used for a first piercing,” Elsa offered, “And the hole they make is bigger than the typical stud. But if you take care of them with antiseptic several times a day, they’ll heal fine by the time of the wedding.”
“No,” Susan quietly mumbled. She was sitting perfectly still with her hands in her lap. A tear formed at the corner of her eye. She tried to get up, but, seeing Cindy’s reflection in the mirror, was unable to move.
“Only five holes to go, Suzy,” Cindy announced, staring directly at Susan’s reflection. A victorious smile began to form in the corners of Cindy’s mouth. She remembered those first months when Susan had come to live with them, disrupting her ideal routine, stealing her parents’ affection. Sure, Susan’s parents had died tragically, but that was no reason for her parents to favor a niece over their own daughter!
Cindy picked up the box that had contained the rings. She lifted a layer of cotton from the box.
“You didn’t see these, did you Susan? These will give you a nice set in each of your pretty little ears!”
There in the box were two other pairs of rings, one about three-quarters of an inch and the other about half an inch in diameter. They were the same thickness as the first pair.
Quickly but precisely, Elsa swabbed and pierced Susan’s ears again, about three-eighths of an inch from the first rings. As before, she inserted the next- largest rings into Susan’s earlobes and snapped them permanently in place. Susan’s ears burned in pain and the tears that formed this time were as much from the smarting as her distress. Cindy gently dabbed her eyes, continuing her dominance-followed-by- kindness routine.
Cindy had just finished wiping her eyes, her hand softly resting on Susan’s shoulder, when Elsa repeated the process again with the smallest rings placed another three-eighths of an inch up her earlobe. This time it was more difficult to thread the rings through as their smaller diameter didn’t allow for much flexing. Susan moaned in pain as Elsa flexed both the rings and Susan’s earlobe to get the rings through. Two more snaps and they were permanently in place.
Reaching into a drawer in the dressing table, Cindy removed another tiny jewellery box and opened it in front of Susan. “Here’s another present from me, Susan. Each of you girls is getting one of these studs too. It’s the latest style!” There in the box was a small, flat diamond on a post with a strange flattened fastener at the other end. Susan recognized it, although she had never seen one close-up before. The nose stud gleamed in the light from the window to her left.
Teri, who had kept her right side turned toward Susan, stepped up to hold her in her seat. Susan saw the gleam of an identical small diamond at the left side of her nose, and, for the first time, noticed the three rings in Teri’s ears. Cindy motioned Teri back. “That won’t be necessary.”
“It’s OK, Susan,” Teri offered. ” I just had it done last night and already I love it!”
Elsa turned Susan toward her. Susan felt like a little girl with the enormous presence of an authoritative adult looking down on her as Elsa bent to swab her nose with a disinfectant laced with a topical anesthetic. Then, softly, she began to cry as Elsa positioned the needle at a point on her nose where the flare of her nostril just began. With sudden force, Elsa pushed the needle through.
“Why, Cindy?” She asked, sobbing more loudly. The needle stuck out rudely from the hole in her lovely, straight, smooth nose. The other end protruded oddly from her nostril.
“I want to control how you look, Susan. All the time we were growing up together you had the long hair, you were the pretty one, you were the one who took the affection of Mommy and Daddy from me. I had to force myself into the boyish hairdos and the part of the Tomboy because I couldn’t compete with my pretty little cousin. Now, I’m in control. Bear with me, Cuz,” she added good-naturedly. “You’re basically a very cute kid now. Not the classic beauty you grew up to be anymore, but you retain a certain charm. Now you’ll be both more feminine and more boyishly delightful at the same time!”
Elsa inserted the diamond stud through her nose and, holding the back with tiny pliers, screwed the flat fastener onto the post inside her nose. When it tightened onto the post, one final turn locked it permanently onto the shaft. It could now only be removed by cutting the diamond off and withdrawing the post from the inside. The hole which would heal over the following weeks would, of course, always remain.
“Make-up time!” Cindy announced.
Elsa lead the stunned, sore Susan to the bed and laid her down. She pulled a tweezers from a manicure set. “No, use this,” said Cindy, holding a pencil- shaped object which she had unplugged from a stand on the dresser.
“Susan, with that darling hairdo, those bushy eyebrows of yours make you look like one of the Marx brothers. Elsa will fix you up, OK?”
Susan found herself nodding. ‘She’s hypnotized me!’ She realized.
Elsa rubbed the antiseptic/anesthetic onto Susan’s brows. Susan felt a numbness form from above her eyes onto her forehead. Elsa began working with the electrolysis pencil, removing hairs from the underside of Susan’s eyebrows in the center and the upper side at either end to curve them. Because of the anesthetic, Susan barely felt the tiny stings as the brow hairs were removed and their follicles destroyed.
‘She’s ruining my face!’ Susan shouted to herself.
Almost reading her mind, Cindy replied, “Settle down, Suzy! Close your eyes. Relax. You’ll look slick!”
Elsa worked for almost two hours. The result was a very thin brow line, only one row of hairs thick, archless, curved in a smooth arc at what had been mostly the top of Susan’s eyebrows. The effect, with Susan’s tight curls, was a look of child-like astonishment permanently traced on her face. The graceful, full eyebrows which had so much contributed to Susan’s look of understanding softness and intelligence, were gone forever, replaced by the look of girlish surprise, unconcern, and submissive femininity.
Elsa applied Susan’s makeup: a foundation, rather heavy eyeliner along upper and lower lashes, heavy mascara, a trace of narrow eyebrow pencil along the thin browline, muted eyeshadow on the lids with a darker brown in the crease of the eye, and a lighter shadow which extended up to the pencil-thin brow. A deep red lipstick and some blusher completed the look. Elsa sat Susan before the mirror.
“Snap out of it, Suzy!” Cindy exclaimed. “This is the new you! You look super!”
“It… It isn’t me,” Susan whispered in shock. The image that stared back at her bore little resemblance to the vivacious young woman who had arrived the previous day. The diamond glinted in her otherwise perfectly-shaped nose. The rings in her ears set off the short, curly hair that had been middle-of-the- back long and gently waved. The thin brows seemed to etch a look of perpetual surprise on her lovely face, completely erasing the quiet intelligence, the mature understanding, the gentle humor that had been there before.
“Wha … what have you done to me?” She stammered.
“It’s you now, Suzy. You’ll get used to it – you’ll love it! You know you’d better get used to it. Much of what you see is permanently you!”
Susan stared at her face. She wouldn’t have recognized herself. She ran her finger lightly along the tiny brow. The makeup obscured the redness that the treatment had cause. The other hairs were gone, smoothly removed forever. She touched the diamond in her nose, the ornaments in her ears. She pulled on them – they wouldn’t come out, she knew, and Cindy would make sure that she had no access to tools that might remove them. At least not until her body had healed itself around the metal now so rudely piercing it. Healed itself so that it would be always ready for the rings or posts which were now so much a part of her. There wasn’t much soreness yet, although she suspected that it would build over the next week until the healing process actually took over.
They were incredibly sexy, she suddenly realized. The rings and diamond were intensely feminine. Her eyes were only feminine, looking huge beneath the cute, boyishly-curly hair. The overall effect was that of a cuddly doll, but one that held a deep sexual promise.
She turned to Cindy. Her cousin looked pleased as she bent to touch Susan’s cheek in another gesture of reconciliation. But Susan recognized something else in her cousin’s eyes. Something that told her that her own transformation wasn’t over yet. Something that told her that her cousin was very much in control.
End Part 2 – If you liked the story so far, send me a note at firstname.lastname@example.org. Perhaps there will be a Part 3, yet to come.