Rent or Fordeit 06

Chapter 6 – Extended Punishment

"Oh, goody!" Monica exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly as she saw the two options Tommy had pulled out. "Time for a trip out. You’ve been cooped up inside for weeks."

"What?! No way! I can't go out!" Tommy protested, a hint of fear creeping into his voice. "I don't have anything to wear!"

"Don't worry about that," Sarah reassured him, "You can borrow something from us."

"But why do we have to go out?" Tommy whined.

"Come on, Tommy! Do you think Monica or I know how to do a spray tan or put in hair extensions?" Sarah teased, clearly enjoying the chance to give her little brother a hard time. "I can tell you now, I don’t—and neither does Monica. We'll have to make a salon appointment, but first, you must make a choice. So, what's it gonna be, little bro? New hair or a fresh new tan?"

Looking up at Sarah, Tommy’s heart sank. The choices before had been tough, but this week’s felt downright cruel.

Two days later, Tommy stood outside his sisters' apartment, feeling the gentle caress of the wind through his beautifully extended hair.

"Please, Sarah, can we go inside already?" Tommy pleaded, nervously scanning the overlooking windows for any moving curtains. He dreaded the thought of being spotted by their neighbours in his feminized state.

"What's the rush? The lighting is perfect out here. I just wanna snap a picture or two. Then we’ll go inside," Sarah replied, her phone clicking away as she captured the moment.

"C’mon. We can do this inside. It's freezing!" Tommy whined, feeling very strange and vulnerable. He thought he had gotten used to the sensation of tights slipping over his smooth legs, but the tingling cold intensified the feeling - The sheer black nylon encasing his legs doing little to shield him from the biting chill.

"Fine, just give me one or two with a smile and we’ll head inside," Sarah conceded, showing a hint of sympathy for her shivering, crossdressed brother.

Forcing his lips into a smile, Tommy clutched Monica’s cosy winter coat tighter around his chilled frame. It concealed the frilly-edged denim shorts and the striped woollen jumper he was mortified to be seen in public wearing. Yet, it couldn’t cover his dramatically transformed hair that cascaded down to the middle of his back, nor his makeup-covered face.

Feeling more embarrassed than ever before, Tommy held his smile, grinning at the camera as his teeth chattered. Having just been forced to trudge through ice and snow to a salon and back in Sarah’s knee-high leather boots, he pondered what would happen if he bolted straight to the bathroom upon entering the house and chopped off the long locks that a cheerful stylist named Rachel had spent the entire morning meticulously sewing and glueing into his hair.

Reflecting on the humiliating day, several things troubled Tommy. He regretted not choosing the fake tan, realizing it would have been the easier option since it probably wouldn’t have lasted long, especially if he had showered frequently.

At the time, the decision to avoid the tan had felt right. The thought of getting a fake tan had angered him, bringing back painful memories of his neglectful mother and the stained bath towels she would leave scattered across the bathroom. His mother had perpetually sported a dark, orange tan, even in the depths of winter. Tommy couldn’t bear the thought of looking like her, even slightly. Since he already had long hair, opting for slightly longer hair didn't seem so daunting. However, he hadn't anticipated that the salon would only have silvery grey extensions, left over from a cancelled customer, which required dying his brown locks to match. The new hair colour, bordering on blonde would take some getting used to. Yet, what troubled him the most was that as he had crunched through the snow to the salon, not a single person seemed to recognize him as a boy in girls' clothing. And If they had noticed, they hadn't cared! He wanted to believe it was the makeup that confused them - the mascara that lengthened and darkened his lashes, the lipstick that turned his lips a bright, glossy red, all of which Monica had assured would help him blend in. However, deep down, he knew the truth: in just a few weeks, his sisters had already altered his appearance to the point where he now looked unmistakably like a girl. And it was only going to get worse from here.

Finally allowed back in the house, Tommy clomped up the stairs in his boots and darted into his room. Thankfully, it was just as he had left it, with no additional girly touches added during his absence. The only change was him. Gazing into the mirror, Tommy's mascara-covered lashes fluttered slightly as he took in the full effect of his salon makeover.

(See image 06)

“What do you think, Russell?” Tommy asked, glancing at the bear perched on his bed, its beady eyes staring right back at him. “Do I look like a girl? Actually, don’t answer that. I already know what you’re going to say.”

Turning away from his feminized reflection and the bear’s silent gaze, Tommy shuffled over to his bed. With a heavy sigh, he leaned down to unzip the boots, his movements slow and weary. He placed them carefully beside the bed before reaching down to rub his chilled legs. As he did so, a cascade of long, silvery-blonde hair spilt forward, to tickle his nylon-coved thighs.

Exhaling loudly, Tommy shook his head, the strands of his extended hair fluttering with the motion. “I don’t want to be a girl,” he declared aloud to the empty room. “I need to do something about this, and now.” The weight of his situation felt heavier with each passing moment, the room's silence amplifying his resolve.

The rest of the week passed by quickly, with Tommy glued to a computer screen, determined to find a way out of his predicament. He managed to make some money through a series of online surveys, but after hours of answering questions, he only earned £20 – nowhere near enough to cover the rent.

On Friday night, Sarah and Monica had a surprise. With the hat running low on options, they decided to each add ten new ones. Tommy had hoped that the game would end once the few remaining forfeits ran out, so he groaned as he watched his sisters drop the new folded pieces of paper into the hat on the living room table. As they fluttered in, he couldn’t help but wonder what terrible options had just been added.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out, as two of the new options came straight out. "Start wearing shoes with a heel," read the first, as a giggling Sarah informed her frowning brother that it was one of hers. Tommy shook his head in disbelief and reached into the hat again, desperately praying for a better option. His prayers went unanswered. The next option, announced by Monica as one of her contributions, read, "Every outfit must include at least one pink item of clothing - two on weekends!"