Story: The Cheerleader Conversion, Part 2

Chapters:
One

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Laurel had been pretty sure that Annika and her father hadn’t been bluffing when they’d told her she was getting a makeover – but she hadn’t expected to be as soon and as comprehensive as it turned out to be. 

The morning after her humiliating spanking, she got out of bed and went to take a shower – and when she emerged from the shower, wrapped in a towel, she found Annika in her room, pulling clothes out of her cupboard and stuffing them into a garbage bag. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Laurel screamed. 

Annika looked over at Laurel – and then reached out and snatched Laurel’s towel away, leaving her completely nude. 

“Don’t you scream at me, young lady,” Annika said, in a calm voice.  “There are clothes for you to wear over there on the chair.” 

Laurel looked at the chair.  The clothes didn’t seem like they could possibly be a whole outfit.  It was just a T-shirt and a pair of panties. 

Laurel’s father’s voice drifted up from downstairs.  “Laurel, are you okay?” he called. 

Laurel blushed.  She had a vision of her father coming up the stairs and seeing her nude.  

“I’m okay!” she called. 

Annika looked at her, and then raised her voice.  “Actually, Stephen, honey, could you come up here?  Laurel is having a difficulty.” 

Laurel’s face went red.  She heard her father getting off the lounge downstairs, and heading for the stairs.

She practically flew across the room to pull the clothes on the chair over her body.  But once she was wearing them, she didn’t feel much better.  The shirt was a tight white thing that stretched awkwardly over her large tits – and it had the word “SLUT” emblazoned across the front in pink letters.  And the panties were a pair of hipster briefs that were admittedly comfy, but which flattered the curves of her hips and pussy in ways that she definitely wasn’t comfortable with her father seeing. 

But it was too late – her father was there, and he *was* seeing her.  In fact, he was seeing his tomboy daughter in a way that he never had before.  He had been given a look at her ass and pussy last night – but he’d never really appreciated how curvy his daughter had become. 

As he stood in the doorway of her bedroom and stared at her, Annika made it worse by reaching down, unzipping his fly, and taking out his cock – which she then began to slowly pump, while aiming it at Laurel. 

“Don’t you think your daughter looks cuter already, honey?” Annika asked in a seductive voice.  “Who knew she had such nice tits under those baggy clothes she wears?” 

Stephen was red with embarrassment, but made no move to stop his new wife from masturbating him in front of his daughter.  He cleared his throat, but said nothing. 

“Tell your daughter she has pretty tits, Stephen,” said Annika. 

“You have… beautiful breasts, honey,” said Stephen.  “Your mother is right, that you shouldn’t be hiding them under those unattractive clothes.” 

“Now, I’ve ordered Laurel some new clothes on the internet, that will suit her much better than her old ones,” said Annika.  “And they should arrive tomorrow.  So right now I’m throwing out all her old, ugly clothes.  They can go to goodwill.  You don’t object to that, do you, honey?” 

“No, not at all,” said Stephen, still staring at Laurel’s body. 

“And I know Laurel’s outfit is a little skimpy here, but they were the only appropriate clothes I could find in her size,” said Annika.  “You don’t mind her wearing these around the house today, do you?” 

“Of course not,” said Stephen. 

Laurel tried to defend herself.  “But, dad, these clothes are embarrassing,” she said.  “This shirt says ‘SLUT’!  Can’t I keep some of my old clothes?” 

Annika sighed.  “Laurel, honey, what do you think the purpose of clothing is?” 

“To cover my body?” said Laurel. 

“No, sweetie,” said Annika, still pumping Stephen’s cock.  “It’s to make men want to rape you.  Do you know what blush is?” 

“It’s a kind of makeup,” said Laurel. 

“That’s right,” said Annika.  “Women apply it to their cheeks to simulate the effect of arousal.  It makes you look like you’re ready to be fucked, which men like.  And do you know why we wear jewellery at our wrists and necks?” 

Laurel shook her head.  She didn’t know. 

“It’s to emphasise our vulnerable areas,” said Annika.  “It draws men’s attention to the places that they can control us.  And we apply perfume to the same places to encourage and arouse men when they come near to us.” 

“That can’t be right,” objected Laurel. 

“I assure you that it is,” said Annika.  “Eye makeup makes our eyes look larger in comparison to our heads – like the eyes of a child – which helps to emphasise our vulnerability, our youth, and also to infantilise us.  Everything we do as women to make ourselves look pretty is aimed at telling men they can control and rape us.  A pretty girl is a girl who makes men think about raping her.” 

Laurel was disgusted – both by Annika’s words, and the fact that her father was still staring at her as Annika masturbated him. 

“Don’t look away, young lady,” said Annika.  “Your father is doing you the respect of staring at you.  The least you can do is return his gaze.  Is there something disgusting about your father’s cock?” 

“Of course there is!” wailed Laurel.  “He’s my father!” 

“It’s natural for men to receive sexual pleasure from their wives,” said Annika.  “Stop being such a prude.  Anyway, that shirt that says SLUT is making you prettier, because it helps men who look at you to see you as sexually available – as something they can stick their cock into.  And that should be the aim of everything you wear.” 

Stephen made a noise.  “Uh, honey,” he said.  “I think I’m going to… going to…”  His face was bright red. 

“To cum?” said Annika.  She grabbed a pair of Laurel’s old panties out of the garbage bag of clothes, wrapped them around her husband’s dick, and resumed masturbating him.  “Here, you can cum into a pair of Laurel’s panties.  We were about to throw them out anyway.” 

Stephen made an incoherent noise. 

“Your daughter is feeling very awkward, Stephen,” said Annika.  “Why don’t you tell her the five things you like best about her tits?” 

“They’re… very round,” said Stephen.  “And… I can see your nipples through that shirt, sweetie.  And your tits are… so *big*…” 

And then he was gasping, and shaking, as he ejaculated into Laurel’s old underwear while staring at Laurel’s boobs. 

“Say thank you to your father for enjoying your boobs, Laurel,” said Annika, as she began to slowly slide the panties off Stephen’s cock, attempting to trap the cum within them. 

“Fuck you,” said Laurel, dying of humiliation and shame.  She pushed past her father and Annika and fled the room.  She wasn’t sure whether she was worried that they would see her start to cry – or worried that they’d notice that her nipples had become hard, and her pussy wet, at her father’s lewd display… 

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Annika found tasks to do in Laurel’s room for the rest of the day, preventing Laurel from simply closing her bedroom door and hiding.  And to make things worse, she got Stephen to remind Laurel that she was behind on her chores, forcing Laurel to engage in vacuuming, dusting and tidying that not only made her spend time in the public areas of the house, but regularly forced her to bend over, showing her panty-clad ass to her father. 

It was only in the evening that she was finally allowed to flee to bed, early, without dinner, slamming the door behind her and weeping over the injustice of her predicament. 

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The next morning she was woken by Annika, who was sitting on the edge of Laurel’s bed, with a collection of packages strewn across the floor. 

“The courier came early, bless him,” said Annika.  “Which means your clothes are here, Laurel.” 

Laurel sat up in bed and looked at Annika suspiciously.  “I’m going to hate them all, aren’t I?” 

“Good heavens,” said Annika.  “Such aggression.  No, they are not the kind of tomboy garbage that you have been wearing up to now.  Yes, they will make you look pretty, instead of making you look like a particularly unattractive dyke.  But I think you’ll prefer them over what you were wearing yesterday.  In fact, I think, given time, you’ll come to thank me for choosing out this new wardrobe for you.  Now get up, and let’s try them on.” 

Laurel had been worried that Annika would make her get changed in front of her father, and model the clothes (which would no doubt be slutty, she thought) in front of him.  But Annika instead shut the bedroom door, with the two woman inside, and didn’t even make a point of staring as Laurel undressed and dressed. 

And Annika was right – the clothes were pretty, and girly, and more than a little bimbo-ish – but the majority of them weren’t *whorish*.  There were no trousers, only skirts, and no loose tops, only tight tube tops and other figure-hugging styles – but they covered the bits they were supposed to cover, and if people judged her in public for wearing them, they were more likely to describe her as “sexy”  than “slutty”. 

That didn’t mean that Laurel wasn’t embarrassed to try them on.  She had spent her entire life trying to conceal her feminine assets, and get her friends to think of her as “just one of the boys” – and now she was wearing tiny skirts that showed off the lower slope of her butt-cheeks, and tops that emphasised her large tits and displayed her bare shoulders and midriff.  Boys who saw her *would* think about fucking her. 

But with each new outfit Annika told her how good she looked – and she did it with a note of kindness that Laurel had never heard from her before.  The very fact that Annika had never shown Laurel anything but contempt up to now made the merest hint of acceptance feel like powerful praise, and she couldn’t help but feel happy to be pleasing her father’s new wife rather than fighting with her. 

At some level she knew that Annika was doing this deliberately, to ensure that Laurel had positive feelings towards her new outfit – and yet despite that awareness, it worked anyway.  Laurel *did* feel a little bit good about these clothes – and she couldn’t help but recognise that she *did* look good in them.  She had never identified with traditionally-beautiful models or online influencers before – in fact, she had hated them with a kind of contemptuous jealousy – but now she saw that she *could* look a little like them, and that people (and particularly boys) might genuinely enjoy looking at her body. 

Annika took a few photos during the try-on – only ever of Laurel fully dressed, and with a particular skill for capturing Laurel’s few, embarrassed, shy smiles.  And when she showed these photos to Laurel afterwards, Laurel couldn’t help but accept that she did, truly, look beautiful. 

“I’m envious,” said Annika.  “Truly.” 

“Why?” asked Laurel. 

“Because, like, I’m pretty,” she said.  “But these tits are fake.  And you’ve got the real thing, and you’re younger than me.” 

The older woman smiled, and bit her lip.  “You know, if I’d met you before your father, I might have been tempted to seduce you instead.” 

Laurel blushed, feeling both awkward, horrified and complimented at the same time. 

Annika sighed.  “But of course, if you’d dressed like this before I met your father, I never would have married him.” 

“Why?” asked Laurel again. 

Annika laughed.  “Because he would have already had a perfect little fucktoy in his house, silly,” she said.  “He never would have needed more…”

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