Another lazy Saturday afternoon and Tracy was lounging around the mall, nothing better to do except wait for her friend Vikki to show up. The plan was to meet up at the food court, but she was running late. For a moment, Tracy felt the urge to just call the whole thing off, go somewhere else… but there wasn’t anything to do at home and they weren’t exactly spoiled for choices of things to do in a town like this. At least the wait gave her some time to herself and her thoughts.

The young woman noted which stores had changed since last time. The old video store was gone, replaced by a place selling airbrushed t-shirts and custom poster prints. Tracy found herself walking down the aisle, looking over the different shops and the people going in and out of them, before coming to a stop outside a pair of storefronts with a combined façade. It was a brand new salon, with a boutique right next to it, both stores connected by their choice of decor: tan and white tile floor and warm yellow lighting.

A neon sign out front displayed the place’s name in pink cursive text in front of a gold-colored droplet shape “The Honey Drop”.

The clothes in the boutique were mostly slutty, girlish things that she wouldn’t be caught dead in… but looking at the salon reminded her of how she’d been wanting to color her hair red.

“Wouldn’t hurt to check” She muttered to herself. Stepping inside, her boots squeaked on the freshly-cleaned floor as she went up to the front desk.

“Hey, do you guys do dye jobs?” She said, running her fingers through her short mole-brown hair.

The guy at the counter looked up at her, his blue eyes adding a disarming glow to his smile.

“Oh yeah, we do everything here! Dye jobs included!” He said, his office chair squeaking as he Rosie to his feet and headed over to the new customer. The young man was dressed in the company uniform: Black polo shirt with the boutique logo on it and a nametag reading ‘Brad’. And the way his blonde hair was gelled into a short, neat spiky ‘do… he was also a satisfied customer.

“So what are you looking for? We do highlighting, haircuts, full color jobs…” He said, leading her over to a salon chair, directing her attention to a color chart with a rainbow of different styles and colors to choose from, from subtle and natural to extravagant fluorescent hues.

“...Let me know if you see anything you like.”

The boutique smelled very feminine in that 'trying a bit too hard' way. Synthetic floral smells, entire shelves dedicated to fur and hair styling gels, soaps that had abstract names for their scents like "Summer Passion" and "Simply Energy." Absolutely way too prissy for Tracy’s liking, but she was just there to color her hair… she didn’t have to touch all the valley girl nonsense.

“Just a full color job would be cool,” She said as she climbed into the salon chair, letting herself sink back into the seat’s padding. She took the chart and gave it a look over. Natural colors, no… sparkly and metallic colors, hell no… but down in the corner, there were the bright and punky shades she was looking for. Something loud and fun but not too over the top.

“Yeah, can I get the... Mauna Loa?” Tracy said, pointing out the brash, fiery red color to Brad as she handed the color chart back to him. The thick, faintly chemical smells of the salon and the soft chair, combined with the way it reclined back slightly so she felt more like she was laying down than sitting up… It all came together to make Tracy feel just a little sleepy.

“Coming right up!” He said, grabbing a tall bottle of dye and setting it to the side next to a set of combs and brushes and other tools of the trade. He took Tracy by the shoulder and leaned her back over the sink, running water over her head, getting her hair nice and wet. He worked with delicate and precise hands, massaging her scalp gently with his fingers.

“This’ll only take a moment.” He said softly, squirting out a dollop of the red dye into his hand and working it into her hair, working the color in carefully. Every so often, he’d go back and apply more dye, humming as he worked. Both Tracy’s hair and the water in the sink gradually filled with flame red color, the strong chemical scent of the dye hanging in the air over the both of them.

“Kinda soothing, huh?” Brad said, his soft voice almost encouraging Tracy to relax a little more.

“Yeah… It’s real nice,” Tracy said, letting out a sigh. The chair was so comfy she almost felt like she was floating. She tipped back in the chair, settling down against the padded headrest while the man’s fingers slid across her scalp and through her short, bobbed hair. The dye was cool and left a gentle chemical tingle where it touched her skin. Her head slowly leaned back as her neck muscles relaxed. Her eyelids began to droop. She tried to keep herself awake by shifting in the seat a little, but it wasn't enough. Her eyes batted a few times before sliding shut completely.

“That’s it… just relax,” Brad smiled. As the color settled in, Tracy’s hair changed. From a short, feathered bob, it flowed out longer and fuller; turning into a head of glossy, smooth scarlet curls. The chemical tingle and the relaxing coolness of the dye was intoxicating, lulling her deeper into a blissed-out trance.

Tracy’s brow furrowed for a second. “Fuck that feels so good…” She sighed, head sagging back as her hair draped down longer and longer, coaxed out of that short brown mop and into shimmering waves of red. The way it was parted and swept over her head was like her old style, though far more glamorous. Even the rich, flame red color looked more luscious and feminine now that it was on long, thick curls instead of a short tomboy cut.

“And there we go!” Brad said, his chipper voice snapping Tracy back to awareness.

“While you’re here, anything else you want done? Get a haircut, try on cosmetics- maybe do your nails?”

Tracy’s eyes fluttered open, and she let out a soft groan of relaxation. “Er… yeah, that sounds really nice actually… where do we start?” She said, the fact she had only come in for a color job completely slipped her mind, nor did she notice how she was starting to hang on Brad’s every word.

He got out a heart shaped box and popped it open, revealing a full makeup kit: lipstick, blush, eyeshadow… all of it a shade of red or pink.

Tracy cracked open her eyes lazily, blinking at the makeup kit Brad was showing her. A heart-shaped box? And all that flowery red...that wasn't her at all. But trying to say that felt like so much work, and the longer she looked at it, the more okay she was with it, actually. At least, okay with trying it on.

"I was thinking we could pick out some new outfits, then finish off with some cosmetics to make the new look pop" he said, looking her in the eye with that enticing smile.

“Getting dolled up like this isn’t my style, but I can make it work,” she thought to herself. All the idea needed was the slightest crack in her resistance, and then it could squeeze in and start to grow. As her eyes closed again, she kept seeing the heart-shaped box, filled with so much red...

She took Brad’s hand as he helped her up from the chair, taking long, slow breaths from her nose as she considered his offer. "Mmh, yeah," she groaned sleepily, a vacant smile spreading across her lips.

“Atta girl, I’ll get the privacy screen and we can get you out of those shabby old clothes and into something nice.” he said, grabbing a nearby white screen and pulling it out, giving the two of them shelter from the prying eyes of the other customers.

When he alluded to taking her clothes off, Tracy looked back at him, opening her mouth slightly before closing it again without saying a word. She was going to question him, but his words were already sitting in her head, steadily working their way in deeper. Something in her just had to see what he had in store for her.

"Oh, yeah, the privacy screen," she mumbled, hands grabbing the bottom of her tank top, pulling it off and tossing it aside. With a wiggle of her hips, she slipped off her shorts and boots, barely even noting how her clothes suddenly felt a little too tight until she was out of them. For a moment, she crossed her legs self-consciously before that calm, foggy feeling returned to her.

“Like that?” Tracy said, sitting back down as she waited to see what Brad would do next.

“Yeah, exactly~” Brad said, taking a ruby-colored perfume bottle and spraying some of the sweet-smelling contents into the air around her. “This is just to freshen the air up. It’s Royal Garden #4 if you’d like to buy some when we’re done here.”

And the more she breathed the airy floral scent in, the better Tracy felt about this whole thing. The feeling of exposure she got from being undressed gave way to an almost zen-like state of relaxation. Her body was tingling, her skin feeling the icy tang of the air-conditioned breeze around her.

“Oh, I almost forgot…” Brad said with a self-conscious chuckle. “What do you think of the new color?”

He handed her a mirror with a dramatic flourish, like an artist showing off a new piece. When Tracey saw herself, any apprehension she had over being undressed in front of someone she'd only known for fifteen minutes was gently whisked away. She didn't feel naked at all, or at least she didn't feel the sense of shame that usually came along with it.

"What is..." Tracy began to say, lifting her head and one of her arms as she turned the mirror to get a better look at herself. She couldn't get out the whole sentence, though, before a dizzy groan pushed her back down against the chair, shrugging her shoulders and arching her back against the seat.

Tracy's green eyes fluttered open as she took the mirror, peering into it with a curious, almost confused expression. She brought her hand up to her blushing, then curled her fingers back through her bright red hair. "Wuh...what?" she mumbled sleepily. "Why is my hair so long? And why do I feel so we-weir..." Her eyes fluttered as her brain hit her with an involuntary burst of pleasure for thinking about the color red.

"Silly~" Brad said. "You think it was the dye?" He turned her chair to face a selection of outfits he had picked out.

"No, it's just awakening who you always were." He chuckled, spritzing Tracy with more of that perfume. The scent developed into something heady and floral, with an aggressive spice of cinnamon. It felt specially designed to make the feminine seem rebellious, wear away doubt and resistance with an intoxicating aroma that soaked into the brain and said 'enjoy the ride'.

“Who I always was?" Tracy said, her voice getting sharper as she roused herself slowly from her stupor, sitting up straighter and clutching the mirror like she was about to use it as a weapon. Then she was hit squarely in the face with a thick blast of perfume, filling her head with the scent of Rosie and cinnamon. She let out a small cough, her shoulders sagged, and he could almost physically see her will to resist slipping away. Her pupils dilated as she sunk back down onto the seat.

"Do you like this one?" Brad said, holding up an outfit consisting of a white, low-cut leopard-print top with shiny black leggings.

"Or perhaps something a little more feisty..." She raised his other hand, which held a sleeveless black top with a heart-shaped keyhole in the chest that ended at the midriff, a pleated scarlet miniskirt that looked like it just about reached thigh-length, and a pair of glossy deep-purple stockings.

Tracy's hands gently gripped the armrests as if she was about to fall out, while her jaw slackened until she was panting. No amount of heavy breathing could clear the clinging scent from her head, though, and as Brad took out each outfit in turn, she felt a pang of delight deep down in her body. Unbeknownst to the addled young woman, her chest slowly stretched outward and her ass filled the seat before finally inching to a stop; having changed to fit clothing meant for more buxom bodies.

Both outfits kicked up warm red sparks inside her brain, but there was something about those stockings-was that latex?

"Fuck, I...I need that second one..." she said.

"A fine choice!" Brad grinned as he helped Tracy out of the salon chair.

After helping Tracy steady herself on her feet, He circled around her, his blue eyes twinkling as he checked out her progress. "Good... good..." He grinned. "Need held fitting into your new outfit?"

Tracy bit her lip as she adjusted the fit of her undergarments, getting comfortable with her subtly enhanced curves.

"No, I've got it," she said, sliding the top down over her head and smoothing it across her breasts, showing off a nice big chunk of perky, blushing cleavage. Then she tugged the skirt up around her hips, and finished off the look by sliding her legs into the stockings, pulling them up bit by bit until they sat high up on her thighs, encasing her legs in glossy candy purple.

Tracy didn't feel exposed in the slightest; that had already been burned out of her mind. But she couldn't help running her fingers through her long red locks, with a look somewhere between confusion and delight, like she was caught between the urge to be tough and the thick floral scent demanding that she be feminine. Her voice sounded almost strange coming from someone who looked like her.

"Fuckin'...why does this feel so good?" she whined, thighs squeezed together and fist pressing against her crotch.

"It feels good to look good, sugar~" Brad teased. He took her by her shoulders and gently turned her to face the light-lined salon mirror. He had the heart-shaped makeup kit in his hands now, retrieving the foundation brush. With careful, almost painterly touches, he applied blush to Tracy's cheeks, adding a subtle touch of pink that blended seamlessly into her soft, supple skin. "Just relax and let the Honey Drop be good to you~" He said, spritzing another blast of that perfume on her.

Next came the mascara. With delicate strokes, he coaxed Tracy's eyelashes out thick and dark, framing her green eyes like midnight clouds around a full moon. A little deep purple eyeshadow later, and Brad cooed and chuckled approvingly at his work. It might have been the magic of cosmetics, but Tracy's eyes looked big and bright, that fierce glimmer they once had extinguished. Instead, they had an adventurous, seductive 'come hither' look.

She stood still obligingly, while her mind tumbled over thick waves of chemical bliss. The heavy mascara framed her lashes, while the eyeshadow and heavy eyeliner almost seemed to change the shape of her eyes, leaving her eyelids heavier and her eyes themselves more naturally smoldering and enticing.

"My friends are gonng be...so fucking jealous," she sighed sleepily.

“Oh yeah,” Brad grinned, twisting open a tube of bright crimson lipstick. Carefully, he painted over Tracy’s lips, skin tingling as each stroke of brilliant red made them plump out fuller, glossier, softer and more kissable.

He had had to gently hold her chin between his fingers to close her mouth as he painted her lips, so he could feel the small shudder that ran through her as her pout began to puff outward, blowing up thicker and plumper as they sparkled with red lipstick. Her breathing deepened and her eyes threatened to roll back into their sockets.

"Th...thickerrrr," she mumbled through her gently pinched lips. A growing part of her was hungry to become pretty and sexy and brainless, and it was beginning to peek through her exterior.

“As you wish!" Brad said, adding another layer of color to Tracy's lips, plumping them up further. "I bet you feel so much better... just let your pretty little mind get simpler and simpler."

Tracy tried to close her mouth, but only succeeded in squashing her lips into a thick, glistening, and inviting pout. "I feel so much better," she said, hazily echoing his own words.

He put his hands on her shoulders in an affectionate gesture, softly whispering to her.

"You've earned a break from thinking so much."

"Simpler...and....simpler?" Her hands clenched into loose fists as her eyes fluttered back into her head. She needed to relax. To calm down. To stop thinking so much. Then she'd be happy.

"Fuuuck, my heaaad," Tracy moaned, resting a hand against her forehead while her eyes batted several times, struggling to stay focused. Her voice was trailing upwards, sounding softer and sweeter than her usual. A shudder ran through her body. Her eyes widened as one of her eyelids drooped and her shoulders sank. Her posture was relaxed and submissive. "Are we gonna do nails or shoes next?" she asked dreamily.

"We can do your nails,since you're close to where the polish is..." Brad said, getting out a bottle of nail polish that was, naturally, a shade of brilliant red.

"...And we'll save the shoes for last." Brad took the brush and carefully painted over each of Tracy's claws with the shiny crimson color, watching with a smile as the substance coaxed them out into a longer and more delicate shape, taking mere moments to accomplish what months of regular pedicures and salon visits would have done. More of her old identity was lost, overwritten painlessly by the new her: a blissed-out bimbo, the likes of which Tracy had made fun of to her friends in the past. He moved to the other hand, applying careful brushstrokes to make sure the two matched in length and color.

Tracy batted her thick eyelashes and pushed her bright red lip into a pout. Her usually-tense shoulders had relaxed, and her narrow eyes were now wide and slightly vacant. She was trying her hardest to think, but it was getting harder and harder. Tracy wasn't a smart girl. She was a pretty little airhead who loved the color red. As she turned over her long nails, she began to say,

"Oh ffuh..." but her eyelids fluttered and her thighs squeezed together and out of her mouth came a much more bubbly,

"Oh my gawd. These are so cute!" When he was done with her other hand, she gasped and held both of them out in front of her, wiggling her fingers, then dragged them gently along the glossy stockings covering her thighs.

"I love themmm," she groaned, her voice now completely pitched up into a girlish whine. "They make me feel, umm...tingly."

"Tingly is good!" He said, hands briefly catching a feel of those shiny stockings on her legs as well. "Now, let's get you a pair of shoes!" Brad was swift in his work, rushing off and bringing back an armload of shoe boxes. He knelt down before her with a grunt, taking out a pair at random and showing it to her, watching her reaction closely. So far, he'd guessed her size correctly.

"What do you think? We've got plenty of others that go with that outfit.”

Tracy didn't so much as bat an eye when Brad took the opportunity to run his hands along her legs. Maybe it was that she trusted him now, or maybe it was that she was getting more and more used to being felt up at random, so that it didn't even bother her. A pout squeezed across Tracy’s red lip as her eyes went slightly crossed. The heel lifting up her foot felt so nice. And so red and shiny and cute and--oh my gawwd, shoes. Her tingly little bimbo brain couldn't handle the stimulation of all those shoes at once, and it was all she could do to keep herself composed.

"I, uhh...can I get something, like....bigger?" she asked, reaching down to shuffle through the boxes. Then she found them: four inches of platform beneath the toes, six inches of heel on top of that, red with a slick candy gloss, and an open top that would show off her stockings.

"Ohmigawd, that is so-" Tracy squeaked, stopping abruptly as her knees buckled and she plopped down onto the seat of the salon chair, her expression slack and vacant. She liked those shoes so much they left her a little...short-circuited.

“So hot?" Brad said, slipping them on Tracy's feet, gently easing them into the ideal fit.

"I get that a lot, pretty young things get made up and can't contain themselves." He helped her up, snapping his finger close to her face to get her attention.

"You still with us, babe? I want you to check yourself out, see how you like the new and improved you." He helped walk her over to a full-body dressing mirror, turning it to give Tracy a full look at how she'd been utterly changed.

Tracy blinked herself back to awareness, though her resting expression wasn't all that more bright or attentive.

"Oh, like, yeah!" She said, and as she got up to her feet, she squeaked, "Ohmigawd, these heels are so hot! How’d you guess my size?" she asked. She bounced against his side, doing a little strutting, swaying walk while leaning on him for balance.

She let out a bright gasp as Brad pulled her in front of the mirror, taking a moment or two to recognize herself.

"I look so cute! Like, how did you know red was my favorite color?" Tracy said, her head cocked to one side as her fingers began to twirl through her hair.

"You've cleaned up nicely!" Brad said, his grin showing his perfectly white teeth. "Oh, and I should tell you... if you recommend us to a friend, you get a 70% discount on everything here. Help a friend how we helped you, I'm sure your friends will love what we can do to...for them." He chuckled, looking over at the addled young woman to see if his slip was caught.

"Ooh, a discount? That sounds super cool...and I know someone who'd just love all the stuff you could do to her!" she said, the implications in his phrasing lost on her. And she only assumed her friend would be eager to try this out because she remembered the two of them being like, super close.

"Very good," Brad said, admiring his work. She was completely re-created. Tracy would be a loyal customer of the Honey Drop forever.

"I bet you just want to go out there and show everyone out there what you look like, make ‘em notice." He admiringly patted the young woman on the butt, enjoying that juicy, full peach shape.

"So tell me about your friend... what's her favorite color? When can we expect her to visit our fine establishment?"

Tracy yelped at the slap on her ass, then bit her nail between her teeth and giggled. "Well, her Name's Vikki, and she's like, a total tomboy, just like..."

One of her eyelids drooped. Gosh, that was funny. Why would she say that?

"...but we're super good friends anyway!" she corrected herself. "Her favorite color's yellow, and if you want I could bring her here like...in an hour at most," she said.

"Oh I'd love to meet her." Brad grinned, "Since her favorite color is yellow, I'm going to get the stuff ready. Is she more of a golden yellow or does she like a light lemon yellow?" Already, he was setting out the materials, including the color chart.

"Like, totally gold," she said, giggling to herself as she ran her hands along her thighs. Tracy absentmindedly ran her tongue over her plump lips, imagining what her dear friend would look like after this.

"Sure thing! I'll just text her or something..." she said, reaching down to take her phone from the pocket of her discarded clothing.

With a confident smile, she strutted out into the front of the salon, nails tick-tacking on the screen as she sent off a text message.

---

‘omg vikki u gotta try this place out called honey drop. im there rn and its soooo good. See u in 10 ; )’

Vikki scoffed as she looked down at her phone, wondering why Tracy’s spelling was worse than usual. Rolling her eyes, she stood up from the bench and went to see what the hell her friend was on about. She knew her outfit was getting some stares: Green T-shirt, studded belt over a plaid mini skirt she got at a garage sale, ripped purple tights and brown leather army surplus boots.

She wore those stares with pride, it had taken her a while to cultivate this punk outfit and get her undercut just the way she wanted it. She knew about the Honey Drop; the place was trashy as hell, and not the kind of trashy she liked. But since he was a good friend, she’d indulge Tracy this one time. She could get a new color for her hair, change up her look before she got bored with it.

‘Aight sis, as long as im not payin. Imma head over asap.’ Vikki texted back, hoping she’d get there before the crowd.

Heading up the escalator, she came to the salon’s facade. On the way inside, Vikki looked at the outfits on display in the window with a half-disgusted smirk. Cutoff shorts, leopard print spandex, leather tops that showed off more cleavage than they covered… it was like the place catered to nightclub dancers exclusively. Inside, her eyes didn’t pick up on the young woman with bright red curls until she came clicking up on her heels and throwing her arms around Vikki, squeezing her tight and squealing:

"Oh my gawd Vikki, you made it! You should come on back right now, you're gonna look sooo cute!"

“Tracy?!” Vikki coughed as the mall girl that used to be her friend put her in a spine-cracker of a hug. She returned the hug halfheartedly, catching a burning lungful of her friend’s new perfume. Tracy took Vikki's hands in hers excitedly, and Vikki could feel her long, painted nails through her fingerless gloves.

"Lemme show you!" she chirped eagerly.

"Hey... you feeling alright?" Vikki said, too shocked by what she was witnessing to muster any resistance to Rosie's pull. "You look really... red." Vikki looked over at the racks of clothing, her expression souring. Oh gods, it really was one of those places.

"... And I dunno if I can do cute... not my thing." At that moment, Vikki was dearly hoping whoever worked here could be convinced to give her a look that wasn't so... basic nightclub girl.

“I feel awesome~” Tracy said with a giggle, backing her into one of the salon chairs.

A young woman with dark, curly hair in a nearly skin-tight pink dress approached Vikki, the name tag worn around her neck on a chain gave her name away as Cerise.

"Hey, girl. You must be Vikki, right? Rosie’s has been talking...non-stop about you," she said, giving Vikki’s friend a pointed little sneer.

“Rosie…?” She said, glancing over at Tracy, not sure why she was expecting answers now with all the weirdness around her.

“Ya, my nickname’s Rosie… cuz red’s like, my favorite color!” She giggled, twirling a lock of that brilliant scarlet hair with her finger.

"So, what are we doing with this side-cut?" Cerise asked, running her hands through Vikki’s hair, subtly tickling her scalp.

Vikki drummed her fingers on the armrests of the chair, glancing back at ‘Rosie’ and wondering just what in the entire hell was going on.

“Yeah, I’m looking for a dye job, maybe something extra…” She said, glancing over the color chart as Cerise got into position. "I want a color that'll give me an extra bit of rawr, something bold and fierce."

She glanced at a particular swatch of brilliant, golden yellow. "Like that shade... what's it called?" She pointed at it, wondering if this place did the whole ‘pretentious names for colors’ thing too.

"Harvest Gold? Sure thing, babe. Gonna have you looking good as new," Cerise said, grinning down at her. With her head gently tipped back over the basin, she doused Vikki's hair with warm running water.

The gentle steam wafting up around her head was soothing. From behind her, she could hear a pop and a soft splurt, and then a pleasant scent like coconut and pineapples fell over her face, coming from the soothing cream that Cerise was scrubbing into her scalp. Vikki's head rocked slowly and rhythmically with her hands, while her thumbs gently massaged behind her ears.

"You're gonna look absolutely great as a blonde. I thought about doin' that but, ugh, I never bother touching up my roots... You, though? You got that bimbo look."

"Uh... thanks." Vikki said, moaning softly as the cool, chemical tingle settled in. The tropical scent reminded her of summer, eating ice cream on the beach. Vikki barely even registered the 'bimbo' comment at first, only mustering a dismissive chuckle at the remark. Her eyes were closed, feeling herself get pleasantly spaced out. She could get to like this, a lot... in fact.

"Once your hair's drying, we can see about those nails, cause they could use some serious help."

It was hard to argue too clearly with the things Cerise was saying, or the lingering thoughts they left sinking into Vikki's head. The massage kept her mind loose and limber, allowing it to bend in places where there wasn't as much resistance.

"Yeah, I could use some nail work." She said, feeling a pang of self-conscious guilt intrude upon her good vibes. Thankfully Cerise was here to sort that out. "What color are you thinkin' for the nails? I noticed Rosie has sort of a red and pink thing goin' on... that's kinda cool you can do that." She grinned, picturing herself doing little clawing poses with her shiny new nails.

Cerise rinsed out the cream from Vikki's hair, brushing her fingers through it a few times to comb it out a little. A few snips of the scissors evened out both sides of her hair--now long enough to just reach her shoulders, though it was still growing as Vikki pulled on a pair of gloves and began to work the tingling bleach into her hair.

"I was thinkin' you could do some metallic gold. You're into that kinda look, right?" she said, then snickered. "Not a lotta girls go platinum blonde 'cause they don't want attention."

Huh...did she want attention? Had she asked for platinum blonde hair? It felt difficult to push back against the things Cerise was saying.

"Mmmmm..." Vikki murmured. Her mind fizzled as the bleach was poured on. Platinum blonde.... that sounded right-ish.

"I... I'm into metallic gold, yah..." She crossed her legs, easing her feet out of those big, heavy boots as she sat. She needed to relax her feet... and the rest of her. "Hope you don't mind if I unwind a bit." She said, holding her fingers spread out for Cerise to work on the nails. "I'm just feeling so spaced out right now..."

"Hey, if we get more people down here, you can make a rainbow or something!" Hopefully, Cerise found that thought as funny as it did when Vikki saw it in her mind's eye. A big bimbo rainbow... not that she was a bimbo.

"Hey, I don't need a buncha bimbos to make a rainbow, I could do it with just you," Cerise snarked , "But then I dunno if your brain could handle all those colors at once."

Vikki tensed up. ‘Hey, I am perfectly-’ her thoughts were interrupted as a jolt of pleasure rolled down her spine and sunk down between her legs

‘-puh-perfectly smart…’

Sitting down and crossing her legs on a stool beside her, Cerise took one of Vikki's hands and began smoothing out her nails with a file. Then, the bimbo comment made its way to Vikki’s addled brain.

"Heyyyy... what's that supposed to mean?!"

Cerise clicked her tongue against her front teeth and propped her hands on her hips.

"It means you're kind of a ditz, hun. Nothing to be ashamed of though, takes most girls a while to figure out they're bimbos.”

“Naw, Rosie's the ditz. I'm plenty smart and... and stuff." Vikki protested.

"For a girl with nothing in her head you sure got a lot to say," Cerise said, stepping back to move around to the other side.

Vikki's nails were a sparkly metallic gold, and about an inch long. But how had they grown that long? Or was she getting her numbers all mixed up again? No, she was good at math...or was she? Her eyes glazed over a little as she struggled to figure out why her head felt funny; meanwhile, Cerise painted the rest of her nails and laid her hands out to dry, before getting up and starting to rinse the bleach out of it, leaving it long and pale silvery-golden.

Cerise blasted her hair with a blow-dryer and brushed it down, occasionally coming in to trim with her scissors, until Vikki had straight blonde hair down to the small of her back, with her bangs trimmed in a straight line just above her eyebrows. Cerise let the chair back up, so that she could see her own reflection in the mirror.

"How's that look?" she asked.

Vikki looked down at her sparkling, inch-long nails, 'ooooo'-ing as she tilted them, watching the light play off the color. With a gentle moan, she looked up into the mirror, her eyes lighting up as they caught sight of her luscious platinum blonde locks.

"Woah! I'm lookin' like a million dollars." She giggled. "Get it, cus' gold?"

Cerise rolled her eyes at the joke, putting the hair dye away. “Alright, we put you down for a massage, and that means we gotta get you naked.” She took Vikki by the hand, leading her towards the private room in the back, an unassuming setup of white ceramic tiles and a beige massage table. She turned and motioned towards Rosie with her free hand.

“Hey Pink, c’mere and help me with this.” With a eager giggle, Rosie sprung up from her seat and followed them into the massage room. There, she helped Cerise peel Vikki out of her top and skirt.

"Eeep!" She squeaked in shock as the two stripped her down, lifting her legs as they stripped her out of her leggings and underwear.

Before Vikki knew it, she was completely naked and pushed down onto the table. As she laid back, Cerise upended a tube of rich, creamy tanning lotion over her chest and squeezed a big glob of it onto her skin. She began to work Vikki over, kneading and massaging the lotion into her skin, working over her collar and shoulders before moving down...to her breasts. Beneath Cerise’ fingers, Vikki's chest grew warm and aching, and with each slow roll of her hands, there was more round flesh to squeeze.

"So do your friends call you Barbie-tits to your face, or just behind your back?" Cerise said, winking playfully at her.

Every touch and motion of Cerise’ deft hands was like a flash of yellow electricity through Vikki’s body. She shivered, clenching her fists as she felt her chest fill out in waves of cold, tingly chemical delight.

"Gah... I don't think they call me that. Should they?" She looked down, they were pretty big, a dull ache trailing down her back as they filled out. A tiny voice in her head was crying out in alarm but all she could focus on was Cerise, the dye, her tits.

"God this feels good." Vikki said,her toes curling as she squirmed in her seat. "Rosie, I get why you got yourself done up... this is pretty cool." She smiled back at Cerise, her resistance bending slightly. So what if she was a ditz, she still had her street smarts! Nobody was gonna pull a fast one on her, she wanted a bigger rack and platinum blonde hair all along. This was her call, she was in control… But was she really?

Cerise squirted another thick palmful of cream into her hands and pressed it into Vikki's breasts, kneading it into her fur with slow, methodical strokes. That slow, almost creaking feeling returned, making her back arch. Her breasts pressed outward in all directions, pushing further from her chest, inching out wider across her front. Cerise brushed her thumbs across both of Vikki's nipples at once, then said, "I dunno. What do you think, Rosie?"

Rosie giggled, almost as if it was a reflex from hearing her name, then blinked and widened her eyes a little. "Yeah, Vikki's totally Barbie-Tits. ...Oh my gawd, I get it, cause she's got big Barbie doll boobs!" Rosie tittered as she twirled her finger around a lock of red hair.

"Nnnnf..." Vikki's cheeks burned as Rosie giggled and joked around with Cerise about her boobs. "Hey, I don't joke about your fat ass!" She snarked back, giggling. It was getting to her, she was feeling light-headed and giddy... must be the chemicals.

Cerise worked on down Vikki's body, kneading away any hint of fat around her midsection, digging her nails in just a little as she moved back and forth along her thickening thighs-then she had her flip over, and started working from her shoulders down to her ass. That she gave special attention-though there was no way she was outclassing Rosie's fat bubble butt.

As she was flipped over, Vikki moaned softly. She bit her lip as she felt those delicate fingers work her rump, growing pleasantly thick. Her wiry, tough girl physique was increasingly being replaced with the plush, tender curvature of a lady of leisure. Sure, she wouldn't be hitting the skate park anytime soon, but she didn’t care. She felt her head go fizzy like a recently-opened cola. Little bits of her education, her higher ambitions popped out of her mind like little bubbles. Gold bubbles.

After her legs came her feet and then finally a quick coat on her face, rubbing it into her cheeks and neck and forehead. From head to toe, Vikki’s skin was a vibrant natural-looking tan.

She might have noticed a slight softening of her face, a rising of her cheekbones, the subtle dwindling of her nose...if it wasn't for the tubes of lipstick held in front of her face: one red, one pink, and one gold.

"Pick your poison," Cerise said.

"Hell yea, I'll take gold!" Another giggle, another rush of bubbly feeling in her head. It was a good thing she was on top of things, all these changes would be... what was that big word that meant 'scary'... Disconcepting?

"Atta girl," Cerise said, tossing the other two tubes of lipstick aside and tipping Vikki's chin up with her hand.

"Now hold still. We're gonna doll you the fuck up." Oof, why did that word doll set off a little burst of euphoria in the back of her brain? Vikki had always hated dolls...no, wait, that couldn't be right. She remembered how much she used to like brushing their hair, just like how she enjoyed brushing and styling her own long blonde locks.

While Vikki tried to sort out her position on dolls, her face had gone slightly slack, and Cerise used that opportunity to roll the golden lipstick across her lips, top and bottom. The first coat brought with it tingling and a gentle puffy swelling. The second coat was where the growing began in earnest, the shape of her lips becoming rounder and more defined. By coat three, her nose was again shrinking slightly, changing shape to accommodate the plump golden pout. Vikki's cheeks flushed and bubbles popped in front of her eyes as Cerise pressed one of her nails against her lower lip, prying her pout open.

"Alright babe, time for more makeup," Cerise said, tilting Vikki's head down a little before getting to work brushing dark, glittery gold eyeshadow onto her eyelids. As she layered on the eyeliner and mascara, Vikki expected her eyelids to be weighed down, but quite the opposite-they were opening wider, giving her a rather doe-eyed expression. With a small trimmer, Cerise shaved Vikki's eyebrows down to the skin, then stencilled on a set of thin, high, arched brows.

Thin, arched brows, big doe-eyes, full lips... She really was a doll. But... she wasn't. She had thoughts... not super complex ones but she was her own woman. She still could just totally ditch this whole look anytime she wanted. She could do whatever she wanted, she wasn't some plaything dammit! Vikki tried to muster resistance to what was going on, but she still wanted to see what came next, how much better she could look, how good the next step felt.

"How's that looking, baby doll?" Cerise asked, stepping to the side so Vikki could see her reflection in the mirror.

Before she could piece together her thoughts long enough to say what she wanted, that she was going to take this new look and show everyone she wasn’t some air-headed bimbo, those thoughts were shoved aside as her baser self rushed ahead.

“I look hot!" Vikki exclaimed. And just like that, her mind was pulled further into the haze.

Cerise grabbed a brush, dabbed it in a bit of rouge, and dusted it across Vikki's cheeks-it was a deep, almost reddish golden hue. Vikki could feel her cheeks tightening just a little, the faint pop of her rising cheekbones, and the way the shift in her face accentuated her glistening golden lips.

"There. Now you're all ready for dress-up." She grabbed Vikki's hand and pulled her up out of the chair. Her toes hit the ground, but her heels refused to bend, and yet she stood perfectly balanced.

"Hey, Rosie. Wanna pick out some stuff for your friend here?"

With a giddy smile, Rosie strutted over to the walk-in closet, dipped inside for a minute or so, and came out with a pair of outfits. One was a tight black sweatshirt with a keyhole in the chest and miniskirt, both made of the same glittery golden spandex, skin-tight and form-fitting, while the other was a pair of metallic leopard-print leggings and a skimpy sling top made of two criss-crossing strips of gold fabric, good for covering her tits and little else.

"Which one do you wanna go with?" Rosie asked. Until she had asked, the thought of making the choice herself hadn't even occurred to Vikki. It was often easier when other people chose for her...

“Mmm…” Vikki mused over the decision, letting one of her fingers slip past her lips, sucking thoughtfully on it as she deliberated on the attire. Where did she get that oral fixation from anyway?

Capitalizing on Rosie’s lack of forethought... or thought in general for that matter, Vikki grabbed the sweatshirt from the first one and the leggings from the second. Cerise didn't say nothin' about no mixing. She started with the leopard-print leggings, stepping in and sticking her ass up as she slipped the tight material up her legs, hips wiggling side to side as she pulled them up. Maybe she could turn this into a dance move, bend over and grind that butt against her partner.

Then, came the tank top. Rolling the slinky, smooth spandex up, holding it over her head and letting it drop down, tugging it down over her chest, smoothing and tucking it into its rightful place.

"God, I love spandex..." Vikki moaned. "I could wear nothin' but it."

Every new piece of clothing added another layer of pleasant static fuzz to her brain. Her thoughts felt like cotton candy mixed with pop rocks, dissolving into sparkles and pops as soon as she touched them. Her hands took a few moments to smooth out and appreciate how the snug spandex clung to her body.

She took another step, then turned to look at Cerise.

"How do I look?" Her hands were on her hips, cocking them to one side. If being a silly little doll felt this good, maybe she should try it... more than she already was. "And what kinda

shoes do you have for me?"

"Like a gaudy little slut," Cerise grinned.

Vikki giggled at the compliment, riding the dizzying high of her new look. She watched Cerise hungrily, then her attention turned to Rosie... and those shoes she was carrying. She arched her back as those black and gold come-and-get-me heels were slipped on, the straps being clicked into place. She didn't wait to ask Vikki what she thought, she just picked up one of her feet and slipped the golden straps up around her ankles. The shoes had a couple inches of platform beneath the toes, and a narrow stiletto heel, made out of shiny black-and-gold plastic to look flashy and glamorous. They were tall enough to make even Vikki's feet arch a little to fit.

Rosie bobbed back up to her feet, smiling down at the shorter blonde as she gently pulled the piercings out of her ears, and replaced them with big gold-plastic hoops, two in each ear. They weighed down her thoughts the same way they weighed down her ears, but it was a pleasant feeling, because it kept the nagging little voice in her head quiet.

Vikki took a few tentative steps in her high heels, getting a feel for walking in them, then she went over to Rosie, getting up close and personal with her friend.

"Mmmm... Rosie~" She said, hands on her friend's hips, moving towards that big butt of hers. "You're looking super hot right now."

She bowed towards her friend, their lips getting oh so close to meeting.

Having her mind emptied out was actually pretty nice, when she...well, not quite thought about it. But it was a relief to feel like she could just flip her brain off and listen to what her body was saying. And right now, it was saying Cerise-ooh wait no, Rosie!

Rosie giggled as she embraced her friend. One hand squeezed her ass and pulled their hips close together, while the other grabbed the back of her head and squeezed their plump lips against one another, holding her down while her tongue slipped past Vikki's front teeth. Her knees bent, and part of her wanted her body to go as slack as her mind, but she managed to cling to her hips and hold on while Rosie's fingertips roamed down the curve of her ass.

Finally, Rosie let her go, and Vikki clicked back down onto her high heels, eyes slightly crossed, and with a small string of drool hanging between their lips. It was really good that her BFF was a redhead, cause they were naturally, like, pushy and stuff, so it was easy to just space out and let Rosie pull her around.

Anyway, you're all finished," Cerise said, passing by Vikki and giving her a firm slap on the ass that scrambled her mind for a few moments longer.

"...But if you want the same deal Rosie got, just invite a friend here and you get seventy percent off."

Vikki squeaked, giggling as she turned to face Cerise. "Oh, I got a friend for ya." She said, folding her arms under her chest, not-so-subtly pushing her hefty bosoms up.

"She's wayyyyy too serious, you could really help her lighten up and junk."

“Sounds like a plan,” Cerise grinned. “You bring me all the friends you want, babe.”