Dykeification Ch. 04

When Danielle stepped out of 'Black Lines', the dimly-lit alternative clothing store she'd been shopping in, the way the bright Hollywood sun hit her face made her feel like she was just waking up for the first time. She blinked, shading her face from the sunlight with her hand, and barely noticed as the events of the past hour or so disappeared into the deep, hidden recesses of her mind. To her, it was all just fog. Danielle frowned. She must have been really out of it. Did she need some more caffeine?

One thing she couldn't fail to notice, though, was the weight of her new, leather jacket across her shoulders. She took a moment to adjust it slightly, and as she did, she heard the heavy, chain-link necklace she was wearing clink. Danielle looked down, and realized she was wearing nothing more than a sports bra underneath her jacket. Her brow furrowed. What had happened to her old outfit? She kind of remembered putting these new clothes on, yes, but wasn't it a little weird for her?

That didn't seem important, though, compared to how great they made her feel.

Danielle was filled with infectious, irrepressible confidence. She'd never felt anything quite like it. Some people probably imagined that, as a celebrity and a model, confidence was easy for her to come by. Nothing was further from the truth; she was as prone to insecurity as anyone, and all the scrutiny she received from the media tended to amplify it all a hundredfold.

Now, however, she felt totally unstoppable.

More than anything, she felt hot. Looking down at herself, she was struck with a single thought: who wouldn't want to fuck her? More to the point: what lesbian wouldn't want to fuck her? She was projecting some serious dyke energy, and it felt even better than she could have hoped. Danielle chalked it up as yet another thing she owed to Grace, her indispensable assistant. She had been so right when she'd said that a makeover was exactly what she needed.

"C'mon, babe," Grace said to her, as she started heading off down the street. "This way!"

"Huh?" Danielle shook her head, trying to clear out some of her brainfog. The way Grace was pointing wasn't the way back home. "What is?"

"The hair salon I'm gonna show you, silly!"

"Oh." Danielle did remember having agreed to that. Just a few moments ago, in fact. Was it a bad sign that her memories were all so blurred? At least she could trust Grace to keep her on track. "Right. Yeah, of course."

So, Danielle allowed Grace to lead her down the block, even further away from home and deeper into the backstreets. She noted, as they walked, the two huge shopping bags Grace was carrying for her. Just how much clothing had she bought, exactly? How much had she spent? Not that it really mattered. If she could keep feeling the way she was feeling, it was worth every penny.

The hair salon was only a few blocks away. Much like the other stores they walked past, it was clearly in a similar vein to Black Lines - a hole in the wall, not too upmarket, a little grungy, and catering to alternative looks. Danielle wasn't dissuaded at all by the surprisingly cheap - by Hollywood standards - prices. Black Lines had clearly been a gem. Grace knew what she was doing. Mercifully, once they entered the salon, Danielle could clearly see it was empty. There was no one there to recognize her. No one, at least, besides the hair stylist who bounced towards them to greet her new clients.

"Grace!" the stylist cried out jubilantly, throwing her arms around Danielle's assistant.

Danielle could only stare. The woman was stunning. She was a feminine bombshell, with her hair braided in a fancy up-do to advertise her talents, except for two, wavy locks that hung around each side of her face to frame her lovely features. It was the kind of look that was meant to appear casual, in a 60's housewife kind of way, even though Danielle knew from experience it must have taken hours. Her makeup was equally immaculate, though it wasn't trying to look natural at all. Instead, she was drawing deliberate attention to her deep red, plump, painted lips and her majestic eyeliner wings. She was a complete and total femme.

Something within Danielle started to purr and growl. She was sensing that a girl like this was just her type.

And fortunately, the stylist seemed to feel the same way about her. She could just feel the way she was checking her out. There was no doubt about it; she was gay. Danielle was pleased to feel her gaydar getting better and better.

"And you must be Grace's friend," the stylist greeted her warmly, a radiant smile on her face. "I'm Katerina! It's going to be a pleasure taking care of you."

"It's my pleasure," Danielle replied, smiling. "Before we get started, do you think there's any chance of us being disturbed? I'm trying to keep kind of a low profile."

"Don't worry," Katerina assured her. "Once Grace called this morning to book your appointment, I made sure to keep the rest of my schedule nice and clear."

Danielle frowned. This morning? Hadn't they only just now decided to get her hair cut?

"Come on, take a seat!" Katerina ushered Danielle into one of the comfortable salon chairs, and within moments she had forgotten her confusion. "So, tell me, what are we looking for?" Danielle could see her looking over her hair with a professional eye.

"I'm... actually not sure," Danielle confessed. She hadn't really had a chance to think that far ahead.

"That's OK!" Katerina said comfortingly. "I'm sure we can figure something out."

"Grace?" Danielle asked. "What do you think?"

To her, it was completely natural to ask for her assistant's opinion. Grace had proven, time and time again, that she had impeccable judgment. Danielle trusted her implicitly, but even she was skeptical when Grace stepped up behind her and said:

"I think we need to go short."

Katerina cooed approvingly, but Danielle was determined to put on the brakes. "Well, not short," she intervened. "Shorter, maybe. But I have modeling contracts. It would cause problems if I cut off too much hair."

"Nothing I can't fix for you," Grace replied. "Don't worry, babe. I can totally take care of it."

Danielle had her doubts. Grace was amazing, yes, but the modeling industry was the modeling industry. "I'm not sure. Maybe we should stay a little safer."

"No, c'mon!" Grace wheedled. "Seriously, it'll be perfect for you! They'll be begging to have you as a model. Trust me."

"That's..." Grace's pushiness was starting to irk Danielle. Who worked for who, exactly? "I really don't think so." Danielle injected her voice with a little more firmness.

Instead of backing off, Grace took a step forward, and rested her hands on Danielle's shoulders. "Don't you, now?"

As soon as her fingers started applying pressure to Danielle's body, the celebrity felt her own thoughts starting to move in slow motion. She couldn't help it. Her body had already been trained and conditioned to respond to Grace's touch. Once those familiar hands were massaging her, her muscles went limp, succumbing to inevitable relaxation and dragging her mind along with them. Danielle let out a long, involuntary sigh, her eyelids already sagging. The sensation was heavenly. It felt a little like Grace's hands were sinking into her body, reaching inside her to touch and caress.

How was she supposed to think about anything else when it felt this good?

Of course, the whole thing should have been a huge red flag. How could Grace exert control over her this easily? Why was she using it now, to go against her express wishes? But Danielle was past being able to think about any of that. All she could do was relax, as the many mantras she'd heard on Grace's relaxation and meditation tapes started to reverberate inside her head.

Katerina watched the whole thing without reacting with anything more than a raised, perfectly-shaped eyebrow to indicate her amusement. "Wow. You've really done a number on this one, Grace."

"No," Grace disagreed, giggling to herself. "No, I'm only just getting started."

Danielle didn't even hear her. She could do nothing more than bask in the pleasure of Grace's skillful massage.

"Now," Grace whispered, putting her lips to Danielle's ears. "You do want short hair. It's going to be perfect for you. Grace knows best, remember? You love listening to me. Doesn't listening to me feel, like, really, really good?"

Danielle nodded weakly. It was true. Listening to Grace made her feel so wonderfully relaxed.

"See?" Grace giggled. Her lilting, Valley Girl voice was thick with vocal fry. "Don't you worry about those modeling agencies, honey. I really will take care of it! I have all kinds of contacts. Even if you end up losing one or two gigs, I have plenty more lined up, and they'll suit your new look to a T."

The hypnotized celebrity nodded again. When Grace said it like that, it made so much sense, and it was so easy for her to stop worrying.

"But more importantly, you want to have nice, short hair." Grace licked her lips, considering all the different ways she could devour this part of Danielle's identity. "In fact, you've always wanted to have nice short hair."

"Mmn?" Danielle murmured. That didn't sound right.

"Yes, always," Grace insisted. "Just think about it, Danielle. What do you think, when you see a woman with short hair? When you see a young, hot woman like you, who's chosen to keep her hair nice and short? What do you think of her?"

It took Danielle's listless, sluggish mind several long moments to supply the answer. "Confident," she murmured, in a floaty, dreamy voice. "Bold. Striking. Different."

Grace nodded, pleased. "Exactly. And that's, like, exactly how you want to be, right? You want to be confident and bold. You want to leave an impression. You want to have a striking look. Just think how that could help your career."

Danielle nodded, albeit slowly.

"And," Grace added, "just think how it'll help you with women."

Danielle's nostrils flared.

"Short hair is, like, totally a classic look for lesbians," Grace continued, going in for the kill. "It's the perfect way to let everyone know you're into girls. Especially with the rest of your new look. Plus? All the other dykes are gonna think you're super hot."

That prospect was all it took to get Danielle on board. She nodded. Yeah. Yeah, she wanted short hair.

"See?" Grace was still massaging Danielle, and she seemed to know exactly where each little knot of tension was in the celebrity's body. She was molding Danielle like putty. "You always wanted short hair. It makes perfect sense. Deep down you've always known, after all. You've always wanted to embrace this part of yourself."

Danielle found herself accepting Grace's words, little by little. It did make a certain amount of sense, and her memory was starting to fill in the gaps for her. She was thinking of times throughout her life when she'd seen women with short hair. She'd always been struck by it. She'd always been impressed with the confidence it took to pick a style like that. And, especially now, in her mind's eye, she certainly thought it looked hot.

"I bet it's been kind of a secret craving of yours." Grace was eager to push Danielle just one step further. "I can totally see it: teenage Danielle looking at short-haired celebrities in magazines, trying to pluck up the courage to take the pictures to a salon. Maybe it felt kind of naughty just to think about it. Maybe it got you a little turned on, as a repressed little closeted dyke. Maybe you were always disappointed, growing up, that everyone wanted you with long hair for your acting roles and modeling gigs."

Those false memories were starting to form from the fog of Danielle's mind, taking the exact shape Grace suggested. They were vivid enough to make her blush. It was strange; it felt like something she was remembering for the first time in forever, rather than like something brand new. It was so easy to rationalize it that way. Repression. Fear. Inhibition. Maybe now, her true desires were all starting to come out, just as her true sexuality was. Maybe that was what Grace was talking about.

"So," Grace concluded. "How about it, babe? Do you want short hair?"

As she replied, Danielle's eyes were shining, and her chest was burning with the fervor of her hidden desire. The idea had its hooks in her. She felt so excited. It felt like she was at confession. "Yes," she breathed eagerly.

Grace giggled. "Of course you do! Let's get started."

She nodded to Katerina, who lifted her clippers. She didn't seem at all surprised by what Grace was doing to Danielle. "How short are we talking?"

Grace winked at her. "You're the stylist. Your call."

Katerina grinned as she nodded. She reached out and started idly playing with Danielle's hair, and there was a gleeful glint in her eye, like she was a child who had just been given a new toy. "Got it. I think... well, if we're gonna go short, let's go short, right? She'd look great with something like a pixie cut and a side shave."

"Perfect," Grace pronounced.

To Danielle, it was like they were speaking from a vast distance away. Their words filled with a turbulent mixture of feelings. The way they were talking about her like she didn't have a choice made her vaguely uneasy, even if she was too deeply hypnotized to understand why, and the way she felt like a prisoner inside her own body felt odd, despite how incredibly relaxed she was. But in spite of all of that, the prospect of what they were going to do to her filled her with giddy excitement.

"Danielle," Grace purred. "Eyes wide open for me, babe."

The celebrity's eyes shot open, though it did nothing to bring her out of trance.

"Just listen," her assistant encouraged. "Listen, listen, listen. Katerina is going to cut your hair. She's going to give you that nice, short haircut you've always been dreaming of. And as she does, I want you to stare straight ahead."

Danielle fixed her eyes forward. Fixed to the wall in front of the salon chair she was seated in was a huge mirror, and in it, she could see her own reflection. Thinking about what was going to happen to it gave her chills.

"You're gonna see, like, every little cut," Grace told her happily. "And it's gonna feel amazing. Every single time you feel Katerina cut off some hair, every time you feel her clipper shaving the side of your head, it's going to make that silly, little, hypnotized brain of yours bubble with happy endorphins. Understand?"

Danielle gave a barely-perceptible nod.

"Good!" Grace giggled, and then beckoned for Katerina to get to work.

As Katerina prepared her tools, Grace went back to massaging Danielle's shoulders. She was eager to keep the celebrity in a nice, docile trance. Danielle was just as transfixed by the fantasies Grace had infected her with as anything else, though. She couldn't stop herself from thinking about it. Grace's hands were keeping her totally relaxed, but even so, she was breathing fast. This was it. It was finally going to happen.

In the mirror, she watched Katerina lift a large pair of scissors and take a bunch of Danielle's hair in her hand. Danielle's hair was immaculately maintained; it had to be, for her career. She cared for it religiously, using only the finest products, and she'd been growing it out for years, only ever getting the bare minimum of maintenance trims that were needed to keep her hair neat and free of split ends. The way Katerina was preparing to cut so much of it off was electrifying. She was going to lose years of work in a single instant. She was going to be putting her career and her public image on the line. It was enough to make her heart pound and her stomach churn as she flooded with fearful anticipation. The only way she could bear to sit still was because Grace was keeping her that way. This was it. This was the threshold.

The sound of the snip was deafening.

Danielle let out a weak, desperate sound as she watched locks of her precious hair come apart and drift down to the floor.

The sight of her reflection, with one whole side of her hair now ragged and uneven, drove home the insanity of what Danielle was agreeing to. It was a mistake. It had to be a mistake. It was so... so permanent. There was no going back. Not anymore. Shouldn't she at least have taken the time to think about it properly? Why hadn't she? What was going on?

But an instant later, all of those doubts were washed away by a dizzying wave of euphoria.

This was it. The thing she'd been dreaming of. Already, the fantasies and false memories Grace had implanted her with were strong enough to overpower her own, authentic feelings. She wanted this. That simple phrase kept repeating itself over and over again in her head, more and more insistently with each passing moment, gradually shifting from her assistant's voice into her own. She wanted this. She'd always wanted this. Knowing that, the whole meaning of the experience was different. It was a dream come true. A fantasy fulfilled. A long-repressed desire, bubbling to the surface. Suddenly, it wasn't insane. It wasn't forced. It was... freeing.

Katerina made another cut, and the euphoria doubled.

The more hair that the stylist cut off, the better Danielle felt. The experience was unlike anything else. She couldn't shake the conviction that she was going through something truly miraculous. It was like a baptism. It was like a caterpillar freeing itself from a cocoon. There was no going back. More and more, that stopped scaring her and started exciting her. The warmth that kept spreading through her body thanks to Grace's skillful hands made it so easy to think that way. This was a transformation. A permanent transformation. And if the world didn't like it? If the industry didn't like it? If her fiancé, Cameron, didn't like it? They could all go to hell.

That way of thinking was foreign to Danielle. Mostly, she'd gotten to where she was by following the right advice from other people. By letting successive agents and managers guide her up the ladder towards fame. She wasn't used to asserting herself. But now, it felt right. The budding confidence within her was addictive. She was tired of other people dictating how she was supposed to look and how she was supposed to live her life.

Wasn't that the whole reason she was doing this?

She was going to have the kind of hair she wanted. The kind of look she wanted.

Fuck the world.

And it was going to feel great.

Within just a few minutes, Katerina had reduced Danielle's long, once-precious hair to nothing more than tatters. But then, she got to work styling what was left, and her skill was made clear. She crafted one side of Danielle's hair into a short, sleek sweep, her locks nice and bouncy now they were no longer carrying so much weight. Then, opposite it, she got to work with her clipper and started shaving the side of her head. Danielle watched, transfixed, as every little part of the process played out. Once Katerina's clipper touched the side of her head and she felt its vibrations across her skin, something more occurred to her.

This was hot.

As her new hairstyle took shape, she became able to see her new self in the mirror. Having short hair made her whole face look different, and Danielle kept noticing things she liked. Her eyes appeared bigger, and her cheekbones more prominent. She'd always thought her face was a little too narrow and angular, but not anymore. She looked good and she looked like a dyke. That, more than anything else, filled her with heat.

Everyone was going to be able to tell she was into girls now. With her new clothes, her new accessories, and her new hair, there was no doubt about it.

It was what she'd always wanted.

With each stroke of Katerina's clipper, her new sidecut got shorter and shorter, and each buzz turned Danielle on a little more.