Crestwood Academy for Young Ladies - Forced Fem Fantasy

Chapter Twenty-One: The Cut

The tension in the common area was palpable. The boys sat in silence, each of them trying not to think too much about what was about to happen. Dylan fiddled with the hem of his sweater, while Marcus tapped his foot nervously. Kyle leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, doing his best to look unaffected. Aaron, as usual, was off to the side, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

The door opened, and Hannah entered, followed by a woman pushing a small cart with scissors, clippers, and various styling tools. The hairstylist, a sharp-eyed woman with sleek hair tied back, glanced at the boys with a professional detachment before setting her things down.

"Alright," Hannah began with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Katie, you're up first."

Kyle swallowed, his usual bravado fading slightly as he stood.

Hannah leaned in, speaking quietly to the stylist. "Give her a cropped pixie. Something that's short but still... feminine."

The stylist nodded and gestured for Kyle to sit. Kyle closed his eyes as the stylist began, the quiet snipping of scissors filling the room. Each cut sent small tufts of hair falling to the ground, and with every pass, Kyle could feel his appearance changing. It didn't take long before the stylist stepped back and spun the chair around.

The cropped pixie cut was sharp, with soft layers that framed Kyle's face in a way that was unmistakably feminine. Despite the short length, it was styled in a way that softened his features, making him look more delicate.

Kyle stared at himself in the mirror, his mouth slightly open. He didn't say anything, just nodded, eyes still wide in shock as he got up and returned to his seat. After a brief pause, he glanced at the stylist, remembering his etiquette training. "Thank you," he muttered softly, barely audible, but polite nonetheless.

"Diana, you're next," Sophie said, her voice calm but with a hint of encouragement. Dylan stood, trying not to look nervous as he made his way to the chair.

Sophie whispered her instructions to the stylist, "Give her a French bob with soft bangs to frame her face."

Dylan closed his eyes as the stylist went to work. The sound of scissors cutting through his hair was almost hypnotic, but every snip brought a weightier realization of what was happening. When the stylist finally spun the chair around, Dylan opened his eyes to see a sharp, angled bob that framed his face. The ends of the hair sat just at his jawline, and the soft, wispy bangs gave him a more delicate look than he'd ever seen in himself.

"Wow..." he muttered under his breath. It was strange, but he couldn't deny that it suited him in an odd way. He stood up and rejoined the others, avoiding eye contact. Before sitting down, he managed a quiet, "Thank you," feeling the pressure of his etiquette lessons weighing on him.

Next was Marcus. Emily gave the stylist a nod. "Maya, you're up."

Marcus stood, clearly uncomfortable as he sat in the chair. Emily leaned over, speaking to the stylist quietly. "Let's go with a textured bixie cut. Keep it a little longer, but still feminine."

The stylist nodded and got to work. Marcus sat stiffly as the scissors worked their way through his hair. He tried to ignore the growing pile of dark strands on the floor, but when the stylist turned him around, there was no ignoring the new look. The textured bixie kept his hair longer than Kyle's but still fairly short. The soft layers fell around his face, giving him a more distinctly feminine appearance than before.

Marcus sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly, but he nodded at the stylist before getting up and heading back to his seat. "Thank you," he said, his voice low but courteous.

The room was silent as the final name was called.

"Alana," Olivia said softly, motioning for Aaron to sit.

Aaron stood slowly, his face a mask of resistance. He hadn't spoken a word since breakfast, and the tension was written across every line of his body. He sat down heavily in the chair, arms crossed, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.

Olivia spoke quietly to the stylist, "Do what Headmistress Beaumont requested."

The stylist nodded, and without a word, she began cutting. Unlike the others, Aaron's hair wasn't just cut—it was styled with precision. Once the initial cutting was done, the stylist pulled out extensions, attaching them meticulously to the remaining hair. The boys watched in silence as the stylist transformed Aaron's hair into something completely different.

By the time she was finished, Aaron's hair fell halfway down his chest, soft waves cascading delicately. The extensions blended seamlessly with his natural hair, creating an undeniably feminine look. It was clear from the detail that this was meant to be more than just a punishment—it was a statement.

The stylist stepped back and smiled politely. "There you go, all set. You'll need to take special care of the extensions," she explained, running her hands through Aaron's hair. "Brush them carefully, use a detangling spray, and make sure to avoid excessive heat."

Aaron stared at his reflection, his face pale. His lips pressed together in a thin line as he fought to hold back his emotions.

The stylist packed up her tools, turning to the group. "It was nice working with all of you. Good luck." And with that, she left the room.

The door clicked shut, and silence blanketed the room. No one moved, no one spoke. The air was thick with unspoken feelings. The other boys glanced at Aaron, who was staring at the floor, his shoulders hunched.

Emily was the first to break the silence, her voice soft but determined. "How about we go play cards by the pond? Get some fresh air."

Kyle, Dylan, and Marcus nodded in agreement, eager to leave the heavy atmosphere behind. Aaron didn't say anything, but he followed, his steps slow and heavy as they made their way outside.

No one acknowledged him, but they all knew—they were in this together, whether they liked it or not.