Hair Raising Experience

By: Bea

Once upon a time, a young man lived with his wife.

      This young man was very insecure. He seemed to look for reasons to be that
      way. He was insecure in male company because he was slightly built. He was
      insecure in female company because he felt that other men might laugh at
      him for being too friendly with girls. He was insecure at his job because
      people had degrees from better schools, and were smarter than him. People
      who had worse degrees than his, or none at all, didn't seem to care - and
      were better workers.

      The only person he wasn't insecure with was his wife. She was smaller than
      him, had gone to the same college, and was very quiet and non-threatening
      in every respect. Like most insecure people then, he treated her as if she
      were a low grade retard, made all the decisions for both of them, and
      managed to get them to the point of financial disaster in a couple of
      years.

      Up until he lost his job he had always scoffed at her "little" job as a
      hairdresser/ beautician, despite the fact that, over time her bring-home
      wages gradually caught, then surpassed, his. He didn't even have enough
      sense to knock it off when three months of unemployment had made it very
      obvious who the real breadwinner was. He still continued even after she
      opened up her own shop and started to make a lot more money.

      Unfortunately for his feelings of superiority, she was gaining in true
      self confidence by leaps and bounds. As she developed in this fashion he
      became more and more frantic to maintain their old footing, and got
      increasingly obnoxious in his attitude towards her. She took it for a
      while, but her patience finally wore thin. One night she turned on him
      with a controlled venom that let him know who the real boss was in the
      house. Weakly, he tried to pooh-pooh her statements but only succeeded in
      making her really angry. He folded in seconds after that. By the time the
      conversation was over, it had been well established that from that point
      on he was the househusband, with no doubts at all about his status, which
      would be well below hers.

      Both of them were actually surprised at the outcome. As if he had finally
      found his true calling, he settled into his new role within days, fully
      subservient to his (now) mistress. She, similarly, took over the running
      of the house, and him, as if to the manner born, taking the reins of power
      with style and aplomb.

      She even discovered that they both got enjoyment out of it when she would
      tease him about his new role occasionally. When she laughingly presented
      him with a long, frilled apron, he protested, but not strongly enough to
      get out of wearing it - nor the succession of more and more feminine ones
      in pastel organdies, chiffons, etc., that came along over the months that
      followed. One night she even got him a little tiddly on wine at dinner.

      He woke up the next morning to find himself in one of her fanciest
      nightgowns, and the uneasy feeling that he had played Juliette to her
      Romeo in bed the night before.

      In truth, they seemed to have found their respective niches. He had
      finally found something he could do well. She was a late blooming manager,
      finally feeling the strength of her wings and the courage to try them. She
      was even contemplating the opening up of another store in a better
      location, but made her first mistake in voicing her concern about the
      availability of a good manager. She made the second when she laughed at
      his suggestion that he could do it.

      He got very offended, pointing out that it was only young girls in the
      shop-surely anyone could manage 'them'? She compounded the first two
      errors when she pointed out (honestly) that her "girls" would eat him up.

      He went into a pout that kept surfacing for weeks, damn near driving her
      to distraction. Sadly, she had to admit that she had made a mistake. If
      only she had shut up!.

      After another couple of weeks, however, her hand was forced. Surprisingly,
      she had been nominated to chair a fashion show for charity. As the women'
      club running the event was very instrumental in defining who was
      fashionable, and who not, in that town, she was more than glad to indicate
      her willingness to support the effort. Even more surprisingly, she got the
      job. It didn't take her long to realize that she was over extended. Maybe
      if he could take the shop for two weeks? What could go wrong in that short
      period of time.?

      He accepted her offer with alacrity, even when she made him promise that
      he'd stick it out, regardless of what happened. No quitter he !

      He never had a chance. There were six operators in the shop. All young,
      extremely competent, and street smart. They sized up this pretentious
      upstart in minutes, and decided to have some fun. What pointed them in the
      direction they took was his own personality projection for, to tell the
      truth, after months of apron-wearing subservience to his wife, he had
      developed some effete mannerisms that the girls picked up on immediately.

      Without any more communication than a lift of a shoulder, a wink, a
      twitched eyebrow, a smile, the girls proceeded to set the stage for
      waylaying him. For a while, they were deferential to a ridiculous extreme,
      obsequious when he spoke, but never smiling, never friendly.

      They spoke only when spoken to, brought him his tea or coffee - but did
      not offer to share their cookies, or conversations with him. At lunchtime,
      they made arrangements to go out that totally excluded him.

      As described, he did have his faults, but had always got along with his
      fellow workers reasonably well. He had never been treated so distantly, so
      like a pariah in his life. For the first few hours of the first day there,
      he had enjoyed the first taste of managerial power he had ever had. By
      lunchtime it had palled. By quitting time he felt lonelier than he had
      ever felt. By ten the next morning, he was like a little puppy,
      practically pleading to be told why he was so unpopular.

      'Unwillingly', they finally let him worm the truth out of them. They
      "really" wanted to be friends, but they were all very wary of "men". Every
      time they "saw" him, they were reminded of his "masculinity". When he
      asked them to do "anything", they felt his "domination". They just felt it
      to be wrong, having a "man" working beside them!!!

      Laughing easily - was this the big problem? - he proceeded to reassure
      them that they were all members of the same team. Surely they could see
      that? Sure he was the manager, but he'd never get that authority if he
      wasn't married to the boss, would he? They were all working together for
      the common good!

      It seemed that they were unconvinced. Quietly, they went back to work. His
      recent experiences cut in. His wife liked it when he served things up to
      her, why shouldn't they? Ten o'clock break found him running to get their
      teas, coffees, etc - and actually winning some smiles - but no company -
      for lunch. At one o'clock he managed to wring out the suggestion from one
      of the girls who confided that if maybe, he took his jacket off, his
      masculine projection wouldn't be so overpowering ?

      He was being a little more acceptable he found, but even this didn't seem
      to placate the girls. Perhaps, another suggested, if he would wear a
      smock?

      He looked at the pale blue smocks the girls all wore. A little feminine
      perhaps but, well, - okay!

      Delighted smiles all round. Happily, he realized that he had made contact
      at last. Unfortunately, the one smock that was available was one left by a
      recent assistant-and the assistants wore a different uniform than the
      operators, the girls explained as they helped him into the pink satiny
      creation, buttoning the oversized pearl buttons at the neck and cuffs as
      they did so.

      He was dying of embarrassment but, as the girls explained, happily
      circling him and admiring his appearance, he now fitted right in. And he
      did too. By quitting time they were all complimenting him on how great an
      assistant he had become - one of the best they'd ever had - just like one
      of the girls!!

      After the miserable way his new job had started, he went home quite
      happily. Explaining his day to his wife during dinner, he found himself
      discomfited by her stare. She was smiling, so it wasn't too bad. He asked
      her what was wrong and was surprised when she said "Nothing, but wasn't he
      supposed to be the manager, rather than an assistant ?"

      As he did the dishes in his prettiest apron, he decided that it would be a
      good idea if he were a little stronger with the girls the next day.

      By the time his wife dropped by for lunch, he hadn't been too successful.
      If anything, events had gone the other way. Somehow or other, in one of
      the quiet periods, he had been inveigled into sitting in a chair. His hair
      had been shampooed and set, loosely it's true-but there was something
      decidedly feminine about it. His fingernails had been manicured and given
      a coat of clear polish. At least the girls swore it was clear-the pink
      color was just a reflection from his smock, they said.

      This time, they all went out to lunch with his wife. He didn't wear his
      smock of course, so had to put it down to dim lighting when the waitress
      addressed the whole group as "girls". He didn't take issue the first time,
      so had to let it go the next few times she repeated it, or referred to
      them all as 'ladies'.

      The next day was very quiet in the shop, and the girls started ganging up
      on him in earnest. One of them, all of a sudden, noticed an "incredible"
      resemblance to a common friend "Margaret". They all exclaimed over it then
      kept making the mistake of calling him by that name. At first, they would
      apologize profusely, but as the morning wore on, there were more and more
      "Margarets" and less and less apologies. By lunchtime, he seemed to have
      acquired a new name.

      All evidences of him being a manager were gone. All the girls (he was
      included, naturally - as they pointed out, his vote was just as important
      as any of theirs), had an election and made Rose, one of the older girls,
      the lead. His title seemed now to be universally accepted as "shampoo
      girl"

      Another step was taken that afternoon. One of the girls came up to him
      with two bottles of perfume, very eager to get a 'man's' opinion on which
      one he thought nicest. After he chose one, she complimented him on his
      taste, and as a 'reward' proceeded to dab some behind his ears and on his
      wrists before he could dissuade her.

      He was too shocked to protest and the first compliment he got from a
      customer set him to blushing furiously. After a few more, however, he just
      accepted them quite happily. He did make a mistake with one of Rose's
      customers that afternoon, but as she said nothing at the time, forgot all
      about it.

      Rose did call for a shop meeting at closing time. His wife had arrived to
      pick him up, so decided to sit in, glad of the chance to get a sit down.
      He served her tea as he did for the other girls, then settled back to
      listen.

      It was a real shock. It seemed that "Margaret" had cost Rose a good
      tipping customer with "her" carelessness. Had any one else had the same
      problem?

      Fortunately for him no-one else had (seemed that he'd have been spanked
      there and then if they had). Rose satisfied herself on that score, then
      warned him, calmly, that a recurrence would find him over her knee, his
      pants at his ankles, getting a good spanking.

      Everyone, including him, knew that she was deadly serious, and perfectly
      capable of doing it. She then asked him directly if he knew what she
      meant. He nodded, but she made him repeat what she was going to do to him,
      just to prove it. Face flaming, he did so. Shamed to the bone, he took off
      his smock alongside the other girls, then left with his wife for home.

      After dinner, he asked his wife if she had any ideas as to what he could
      do to avoid a recurrence of the humiliation. He was quite surprised at her
      answer. She proposed that he start wearing pretty feminine panties under
      his pants.

      He laughed, but not really with that much confidence (he'd discovered that
      things of this nature seemed to be happening to him, whether he found them
      funny or not).

      As he guessed, she was deadly serious. Her reasoning was that with frilly
      panties on, he'd have a constant reminder not to make any mistakes- could
      he imagine what the girls would say if they saw his lingerie when Rose
      spanked him?.

      There was no stopping his wife. She made a quick trip to the mall, and the
      following morning, bedecked in his very own, very feminine, panties he
      went to work.

      He did rehearse a complaint and air it to his wife that evening,
      complaining that he was being treated like a girl.

      Pointedly, she reminded him as to how he had gone from being acting
      manager to shampoo girl in less than a week, how his hair was decidedly
      girlish, how he wore perfume, that he answered to the name "Margaret"-how
      did he expect to get treated?--Like John Wayne? -- Jo-anne Wayne was more
      appropriate!!!

      He lasted into the second week before disaster struck. He made exactly the
      same mistake with another of Rose's customers. This time it was early in
      the morning and he had to go through the rest of the day getting little
      grins and nudges from the other girls. He knew that, if he took his smock
      off, the girls would figure that he was trying to escape and stop him. His
      only other alternative was to get out of the shop, wearing his smock.
      That, he didn't want to do at all.

      To tell the truth, he started feeling a certain feeling of excited
      anticipation. At first he pushed it from his mind but, as the day wore on,
      a certain breathlessness started in his chest.

      At quitting time, the girls started drawing the window blinds. They even
      made him make coffee and serve it up, adding even more humiliation to what
      was going to take place.

      They were going to wait for his wife, but she seemed to have been delayed.
      Finally, Rose gave him instructions. If he came to her without a fuss, she
      would take it easier on him. If he would keep his legs nice and straight,
      and give little kicks, that would make it look as if he were enjoying
      it-and make her ease off. Lastly, if he would just give little squeals now
      and then?

      First, he had to take his shoes and socks off, then his pants. As the
      smock was knee length, his panties didn't become visible until he was over
      her knee, and she had pulled up his smock.

      He was surprised at the seeming lack of reaction from the girls, a couple
      of titters was all. He took his spanking like a heroine, a screen heroine
      that is. He kicked his legs and squealed prettily for what was nothing
      much more than a series of love taps.

      The reaction to his underwear actually followed the spanking. He didn't
      know where the clothes came from, or even how they did it but, ten minutes
      later, when his wife came for him, he was wearing a short, tight, black
      skirt, a pink blouse, sheer enough to show the outlines of the camisole
      and bra beneath it. Garter belt and stockings under the skirt. His face
      was tastefully done up with lipstick, blusher, (though he didn't really
      need that !), Mascara, eye shadow -the works.

      She really wasn't that surprised at his appearance, she knew the girls -
      and what they were capable of. What did surprise her was his demeanor.
      Instead of the "crushed" male, he was actually acting like a reasonable
      (female) person.

      He slid into the car beside her, gave her a peck on the cheek, put his
      handbag down on the seat, and said "I've been thinking about becoming a
      beauty operator. I quite like working in the shop, you know."

      She looked at him, surprised. He continued "I suppose I'll have to return
      these clothes tomorrow - will you take me to the mall tonight ? I think
      I'll need some new outfits - OK by you?"
      She grinned "You mean for Margaret?"
      He grinned in return. Shrugged his shoulders inside his pretty blouse.
      "Who else?"