A.I.dentity - Chapter Sixteen

The A.I. Mistress had been thankfully silent for the last two hours.  

Leslie worried that at any minute, she would speak and make things worse.

Can this get any worse?

He blinked, feeling the air current generated by his new, long lash extensions.  They seemed impossibly long, making his eyelids feel heavy and weird.  It was as if every blink made him aware of how long and feminine they were.  

If his eyelashes weren’t distracting enough, his lips worried him even more.  The injections Ms. Amy had given him had instantly caused them to start swelling.  They were still numb from that first shot she gave, but he was having difficulty keeping them closed.  He could keep them together with effort, but the instant he stopped thinking about it, they popped open just a little into a natural pout due to being so big.

His hands sat in the periphery of his vision, with long pink talons now protruding from his fingers.  They made his hands seem smaller somehow… more delicate.  

He shivered as Ms. Amy continued to buff and polish his feet.  He could almost see the cloud of dust coming up from them as she sanded away in a vaguely ticklish manner.  

How long have I been sitting here?  

It felt like days.  His hair was still in the little aluminium packets, and his scalp was tingling from the chemicals.  

There was nowhere to go and nothing to do except sit there and obsess over the growing femininity that was being inflicted upon him.  He dared not fidget in fear of activating the Mistress and bringing even more horrors upon himself.

What am I going to do?

The thought kept racing through his brain.  

I can’t leave the house like this.  I can’t see anyone.  Oh god…I can’t go to class like this.  I can’t let anyone see me… I can’t… I can’t… I can’t…

His eyes closed, but the sharp smell of chemicals permeated his whole being. A new pungent odor entered the room and overpowered the already overwhelming hair chemicals. He opened his eyes.

His toenails were being painted a bright pink to match his fingernails.  He slammed his eyes shut.  His whole body felt like an alien.  

I can’t… I can’t… I can’t…

Yet even in the denial of darkness, his brain desperately wanted to see what he looked like.  His imagination was running wild, alternating between imagining himself as a porn star and then flipping to the humiliation of imagining himself looking like a man in drag… and then back to the overly sexualised porn image.  His cage throbbed, and despite himself, he squirted again into his panties.

Ms. Amy had finally talked herself out, and had taken his silence as permission to just work in her own little world.  He could feel her peeling the packets out of his hair, and his heart ached in morbid curiosity. 

What does my hair even look like?

He saw it only as a strand as it plopped down wet into his face.  He stared at it cross-eyed, not recognising it as something that belonged to him.

It’s red… no, not red… blondish red… like a…

…strawberry blonde…

His normal brown hair now had an undeniable red/blonde look. Even in its wet state, it looked bright, which meant that when it was dry…

Oh god… I can’t…

The blow dryer made him jump.

Sit still and be a good girl, Leslie.  An hour has been added to your time lock safe for fidgeting. It will now be unlocked in thirteen hours, forty-eight minutes, and ten seconds. 

“...yesmistress…”

The words left his mouth in the darkness behind his eyelids even as he tried to stop them.  He bit them off, trying to pull them back in.  It was no use.  The little chuckle that came from Ms. Amy was absolutely mortifying.

“She’s pretty strict, isn’t she?”

He felt so small…

…and stupid

…and humiliated.  

He wished the world would just swallow him up.  He was worried that if he did not answer Ms Amy, he would be punished again.

“Yes, Ms. Amy.”

Another little chuckle from the hairdresser made his growing embarrassment worse.

“You are just the most submissive little thing, aren’t you?”

Her words were playful and kind but still cut him to the bone.  It made him feel so small and humiliated that he wished the darkness behind his eyelids would swallow him up forever.  

…and yet, between his legs, he throbbed in his cage again.

It was another question.  At least, he thought it was a question.  And he dared not respond.

“Yesmsamy…” he mumbled softly.

Her chuckle was a full-blown laugh this time.  A musical sound that would have made her adorable if it wasn’t coming at his expense.

“Well, you are super cute.  I hope your date tonight likes your new look.”

“Date?”

The word flew out of his mouth with surprise.  His imagination instantly flew back to his fantasy of wearing the little black dress and running to the door to see…

“Oh, I just assumed.  Normally, girls only get the date night package for special occasions… proms, fancy dinners, etc.  It’s either that or cam-girl stuff…

“...ohgod…”

“...no judgment either way… or if you just wanted a day of looking fierce, I get it.  Nice to splurge on yourself sometimes. I do recommend that you schedule a followup in about a week.   So tell your ahem Mistress… to schedule an appointment for next Saturday.”

What time on Saturday do you want the appointment?

 Ms Amy’s eyes darted to the little machine on the table and then back at Leslie.  He looked at her with wide eyes, which she interpreted as leaving it up to her.

In reality, his brain was short-circuiting.  Another appointment in a week?  

“Schedule another beauty appointment for Saturday at 8 AM”, Ms. Amy said, nodding at Leslie.  He nodded back ever so slightly.  Or at least he thought he did as he tried to push through the internal screaming.

Your appointment is scheduled for Saturday at 8 AM.

“Excellent, we’ll give you a hot oil treatment at the very least and try to get some conditioner into your hair so it stays healthy.  Redo your lash liner… We can also check your nails.  Acrylics that long can be tricky if you’re not used to them.”

Leslie’s eyes drifted down to the long, pink nails now flowing off his finger tips. They were so long that he was uncertain how he would be able to do anything.

“You’ll want to spend extra time at night washing them. Warm water and some hand soap will do the trick. If you don’t have a little nail brush, you’ll want to get one…

Nail brush added to your cart.

“Ha. So cool.  Add some rubbing alcohol and Q-tip swaps, too.”

Rubbing alcohol and Q-tips added to your cart.

“You’ll want to do a quick dab under your nails with alcohol every evening to ensure you remove any dirt or bacteria.  Make sure you dry them really, really well after you wash, ok?”

The Mistress voice was making him anxious, made worse by the more domineering tone that Ms Amy was using, telling him exactly what he had to do.  It was making the throb between his legs unbearable, forcing his brain even more into a subspace.

“And if you don’t have one… you should also get a lash-friendly sleep mask.”

Aroma Season 3D Sleep Mask for Women has been added to your cart.

“Great choice.  Now, come over here, Leslie.  We need your sink.”

The faucet was running, and while her tone still had the friendly tone from before, there was an undercurrent of something new.  He wanted to think he was imagining it, but somehow… somehow, he knew he wasn’t.

She had not asked him to come over to her.  She had ordered it.

Liquid squirted into his panties again.

He awkwardly got out of the chair, the plastic bib dropping bits of his hair on the ground around him.  His whole body felt alien.  His hair hung wet around his head, but it fell differently.  His eyelashes fluttered with every blink.  His long nails made his hands feel heavier.  Looking down, he could see his freshly pedicured and painted pink toes.

This can’t be real…

Her hand touched his back as he got close, sliding up to his neck, and he found himself being pushed face-first into his kitchen sink, the spray nozzle being used to wet his whole head.  His freshly trimmed and dyed locks clung to his face, causing a claustrophobia.  

Feeling overstimulated, his brain tried to focus but only managed to pinpoint how strange it was to have a hand on his neck holding him in place.

He sputtered water out of his mouth as it drizzled in.

Then goo was drizzled on his head, and he felt her nails massaging it into his scalp.  His whole body tingled with arousal combined with…

…I have to pee so bad…

…his bladder ached.  He was past the point of discomfort, having held it for so long, and the sound of the water, combined with being pressed against the counter, was making it hard to hold.

More water poured over his head, the slimy goo rubbed into his hair, drizzling around his face.  

He heard the spigot retracting as the water stopped. A quick squeeze to his neck felt almost affectionate, and then his head was wrapped in fluff. His eyes caught the pink colour, and he closed his eyes. He felt engulfed in pink, so much so that even in the darkness behind his eyelids, he could still see it.

It was wrapped as a turban around his head, and her hand led him back to his stool.  He could barely walk. His bladder ached so badly.  He did not want to speak.  It was so embarrassing to engage in any conversation, and yet he had no choice.

“Ms. Amy… can I…”

Oh, god, I sound like a little kid.

“...can I go to the bathroom, please?”

She giggled her little musical laugh.

“Oh.  Of course.  You’ve been sitting for a long time.  Go ahead.  But be quick. We still have a lot to do.”

“Thank you.” 

His voice was a hurried mess as he achingly made his way to the bathroom. He tried not to run, but his steps did not hide the hurry.  

“And be careful with your new nails…”

Her voice followed him into the bathroom as he shut the door.

There was no time to think about the situation.  Yoga pants down, and sit.  He had to sit.  There was no way to pee standing with the stupid cage.  

Only as the stream began to flow did he feel the utter alienness of the situation.  He was sitting on the toilet to pee, his smooth and hairless legs poking out of his yoga pants, panties inside of them.  A large pool of gooey liquid had filled the crotch, and he realised that his whole cage was a wet, goopy mess.  Seeing the long pink nails resting on his bare thighs made him shiver.  Everything about the situation felt disconcertingly feminine.

As he finished, he decided to try to do some damage control on his panties and the wetness of his cage.  But just getting a few pieces of toilet paper with his new long nails proved to be a Herculean task.

How am I supposed to do anything with these on my hands?

Dabbed dry (as best he could), he stood and pulled his pants back up.  The tightness pulled the still cum-soaked crotch of his panties tight to his body, the cool, clammy feeling making him feel gross and uncomfortable.

The face looking at him made him yelp in surprise.  A pretty girl with a pink towel around her hair stared at him wide-eyed.  Her large, pouty lips opened in surprise and she was shaking her head as if denying him that she even existed.

No, no, no… I have to undo this, stop this, and...

Wash your hands, Leslie.

The voice came from his wrist.

He watched the pretty girl in the mirror respond.

“Yes, Mistress.”

His panties dampened again.

Make sure to dry your nails completely.  Remember to keep them as dry as possible.

Patting his nails dry with a hand towel, he felt how securely they were attached to his fingers.  There was no ‘pulling’ them off.  He would have to figure out how to remove them somehow.

Walking back into the main room, he saw Ms. Amy texting again.  She wore a bemused expression as her fingers flew across the phone.  She didn’t notice him at first. Her smile at what she typed grew as a little ding returned in response.

Leslie just knew she was texting about him.  The stupid client she had was being feminised with a made-up Mistress.

His face grew hot, and he quickly and quietly returned to the stool.  He just needed her to finish so she could leave.  Then he could maybe make some kind of plan on how to undo all of this mess.

“Oh, you’re back.  Great!”

Ms Amy put down her phone and moved behind him, pulling the towel from his head.  Damp red/blonde locks fell around his face, and he shuddered.  It felt unreal.  It felt impossible.

“Let’s finish you up!  Only a couple more hours to go.”