A man is walking down a quiet street when he passes a salon. On impulse, remembering he needs a trim, he steps inside without reading the sign: Women Supreme Salon — Where Only What a Woman Wants Matters.
It’s late. The place is empty except for staff.
A stylist gestures him into a salon chair. The moment he sits, restraints click into place around his arms and legs. His confusion turns to alarm, but the staff simply gathers, calm and composed.
The lead stylist steps forward, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “I’m Valeria,” she says, her voice smooth and certain. “And here, only what women want matters.”
“I just came for a haircut,” he protests.
Valeria smiles faintly. “And you’ll leave with one. Just not one you chose. This salon is called Women Supreme and all our clients are feminine -- whether they enter the door that way or whether we have to do that feminization for them."
The cape is secured. Hands move through his hair, assessing, critiquing.
The scissors and clippers begin. Locks fall. Then come brushes, curling irons, product—far more than a simple trim. Extentions are added. Sections are carefully shaped, softened, and styled. His hair is layered into a rounded, voluminous cut that frames his face. The ends are curled into smooth, glossy waves. A stylist parts it with precision, sweeping it to accentuate softer lines. Color is done. All the while the man knows he can only submit to these dominant women. They are in complete control.
“Better,” one says.
“Much better,” another agrees.
Valeria adjusts the final strands, then adds a subtle shine spray. “Now she looks as she should.”
Alarrmed by the word "she," he looks into the mirror put in front of him. The person looking back at him is unmistakably distinctly feminine — soft curls, careful shaping, a polished finish that draws attention rather than blending in. It’s the kind of hairstyle that would stand out immediately, impossible to mistake for the quick trim he expected.
He doesn’t move right away—just keeps staring, realizing there’s no way to pass as a male anymore.
“Everyone will see you as you are to be now,” Valeria says calmly. “No more hiding behind a male facade.”
The restraints release with a soft click.
“Ladies, I believe it is now time to move on to the training of our new sissy.”
