Hair Therapy: Part 1
Hello all, long time no post! This is the first part of a 3-4 part piece for CorruptedCaps. She won a caption contest over on Evie's Emporium with this piece and requested "a F2F story about a woman who finds a magic ponytail that makes her hot and bitchy" as a reward piece. This is certainly right up the alley of my own interests and I was inspired to create this extended tale that weave together the events of a college therapist and a few of her patients. Enjoy!
“God she is such a bitch!”
“Try to watch your language, Maddy. What is it about her that aggravates you so much?”
The young woman scowled in annoyance, rolling her eyes in an exasperated manner.
“You know our fucking history. All the backhanded compliments about being ‘brave’ when I was in chemo, all while implying she’d never be caught dead being bald and without makeup? Hosting a ‘charity event’ for me? Then spending a fraction of the funds on a cheap wig for me while she conveniently shows up the next day with an amazing, expensive-looking, salon-quality weave? I have every right to hate her plastic ass!”
Angie Judge jotted notes in her book as her patient let off steam. As the main college therapist she had heard many stories about Valentina L’Amour. In fact her sessions sometimes seemed like purgatory for broken hearts, minds, and spirits all shattered by this legendary she-devil. Yet she always advocated treating others with kindness and respect, so she tried to do the same for Miss L’Amour.
“But you know what’s the worst? The thing that really fills me with rage every time I see that manipulative, icy brat? How untouchable she is on campus. She struts around as if anyone she lays eyes on isn’t worthy of her appearance. Yet everyone treats her like a queen because they're too chickenshit to call her out on being a hollow, hateful slut!”
The irate description painted the exact image of Valentina that Angie had in her head. She had never met the young woman, but from the collective tales she could almost picture her. Full lips in a constant pout. Sharp eyes accentuated by flawless designer makeup. Plus of course her trademark tower of golden hair, held up in a half-ponytail like a crown and falling past her bare shoulders like the river of tears that she left in her wake. She was so enthralling that even her imagined image was enough to distract the therapist from a good portion of her patient’s emotional outpouring.
“Ahhhhh it makes my head hurt just thinking about it!”
Maddy’s snarl at the end of her rant startled Angie back into the live session. The therapist noticed her patient touching her face and toying with her long hair; it drew attention to her darkened skin and long brunette hair. She knew that Miss Towers was self-conscious about her pale, bald phase when fighting cancer, but this over-the-top look seemed more extra than usual. In fact, wearing her hair up in a long ponytail seemed to subconsciously mirror the source of her pain and ire.
“Headaches are a common side effect of anger issues. Have you tried your breathing exercises? Sometimes we get worked up over stressors and removing them from your mind can help…”
“Ugh you just don’t get it!” Maddy snapped back as she rubbed her temples in frustration. “I literally can’t get that bitch out of my head! It’s like I can feel something worming inside my head and every time I see that smug, pompous, fake ass face I just want to break her in half.”
“Now Maddy, you know that’s not a natural or positive reaction. You need to rise above the anger and jealousy, maybe even forgive…”
“JEALOUSY?!?!? Shut the fuck up! God you are such a goody-goody, passive, pathetic excuse for a therapist! You don’t understand me at all!”
The young woman screamed while tugging at her brunette locks. In the midst of her rage she ripped a sizable chunk of hair off her head. Seeing what she had done she sobbed in frustration, threw the detached locks onto Angie’s desk, and stomped out of the room in a tornado of hair and rage.
The therapist sighed. She thought she was making a connection with Maddy and helping her solve her problems. Yet things had deteriorated so rapidly and unexpectedly the last few days, something symbolized by the discarded segment of Maddy’s new hair. Maybe she was just an old head slowly growing unable to bond with these college co-eds and their sleek new style…
“Maybe to understand Maddy, I need to get into her head…” Angie mused aloud, slowly feeling around to find out if she could attach those foreign brown locks into the back of her head.
The next day, Angie came in a bit early to admire her new appearance. She knew it was a touch vain, but the ponytail made her feel more youthful, energetic, and pretty. The swell of confidence made her understand why Maddy switched to this style.
“Good morning Angie. Wow, you look amazing today!”
“Thank you, Tina,” the therapist replied with a smile. Her student assistant was always eager to please, yet the compliment resonated with Angie more than usual. Tina, who also dabbled as another one of her patients, was looking for a doting mother figure and confidant after her family and anxiety issues. As for Angie, well, she might be able to provide the confidence and more than mere motherly figure with these extensions and tight white top she opted for today.
Shaking her head of these thoughts about her own appearance, Angie beckoned in the first scheduled patient of the day. Nara Darcy was another victim of the vicious Valentina, with the campus queen’s picking on her style and socioeconomic status. The pale, dark-haired goth girl’s confidence had been shattered by the onslaught of snide comments and whispered rumors through her three years at school and was thinking about dropping out.
“Sometimes, I think she’s right,” Nara said sadly. “I feel like an ugly outcast. I’m struggling to pay rent and I get turned down for jobs because of my appearance. Honestly I want to give it all up, but my style is important to me, you know? I like embracing the darkness…but I’m starting to fear that the darkness will swallow me.”
Across the desk, Angie fidgeted slightly, fiddling with her hair to keep from interrupting her patient. There was a strange, gnawing irritation as she listened to and looked at the young woman. Her meek comments and lack of confidence were annoying her. Despite her alternative appearance she was an exceptionally beautiful person - almost too good-looking for the therapist’s liking. But as Angie was learning herself today, there was a power in feeling and looking pretty
“Okay stop. You want my honest opinion?” Angie said, unable to hold her tongue any longer. “You know the reason why Valentina picks on you? It’s not because of your dark, ratty clothes or because you’re a social stain. It’s because you take her shit and shrivel up. If you weren’t cowering in fear all the time you’d see the truth: she fears YOU.”
“What? What are you talking about? Valentina is everything I’m not - pretty, rich, popular. She literally walked right past me and flicked her ponytail in my face yesterday like I didn’t even exist. Why would she care about me?”
“God you really are an oblivious goth stuck in the shadow realm of doom and gloom,” the therapist sighed, before stopping in surprise. To her embarrassment she realized she had rolled her eyes at her fragile client!
“Apologies, that was a bit harsh. But the point is that you are pretty! And you could be popular and schmooze with an upper class crowd if you wanted to. That’s what Valentina’s scared of…and maybe she should be!”
“I dunno…” the emo girl said with a slight flush on her pallid complexion. “I don’t know if I could give up my counter-culture sensibilities just to try and fit in with the jocks and plastic sorority princesses.”
“You don’t have to. Embrace your beauty and alternative style…hell, flaunt it in her face! You could be a gothic queen of darkness if you wanted,” Angie said encouragingly.
A day later Angie was on cloud nine. Her confidence was increasing after another successful therapy session with Nara. But more importantly, Angie was feeling better than ever herself. She had opted to wear some stylish, ripped jeans to go with a short white tank top that bared her toned midriff. Sure, it was slightly casual for a professional environment, but she was feeling hot and wanted to flaunt it.
“Lexie is waiting in your office, Angie,” Tina greeted her boss at the door as the older woman arrived a few minutes behind schedule. Her look of awe was all the confirmation Angie needed to see that she was putting the ‘fashionable’ into ‘fashionably late’. It added a warm tingle in her head and made her strut a little more pronounced.
“Yes I’m aware, Tina,” came her cool, almost uncaring reply. The other reason she was late was that she was dreading another droll meeting with her next client. Young Miss Troy was definitely depressed with issues of repressed sexuality amplified and picked apart by none other than one Valentina L’Amour. Angie smirked to herself: it was almost impressive how completely the bitch had shattered the younger girl’s happiness and sense of self. Only problem was that the therapist now had to deal with picking up the fat, blubbering pieces.
“H…h…how could someone s…so perfect be so m…mean?” the girl wailed as she tearfully tried to explain her latest encounter with the girl she both loved and hated. “I…I get that she’s…she’s…too beautiful to bother with s…s…someone so heavy set and s…stupid like me. Even if she wa…was…you know…gay.”
“But making a point to…to…make out with her b…boyfriend whenever she sees m…m…me is sss..so mocking and cruel! Then she says things like…like… ‘She’s probably a lesbian be…because no dick is big enough to…to…fit through those fat rolls’ just m…m…makes me f…f…feel…”
“Shut the fuck up and stop blubbering for goddess’ sake!” Angie scowled angrily as she reached her breaking point. The girl stopped sobbing almost immediately and for a moment Angie felt bad. But that feeling quickly went away and she didn’t bother apologizing…why would she?
“Newsflash, baby cakes - there is no chance in hell of Valentina L’Amour even blowing a kiss in your direction, let alone becoming the loving lesbian girlfriend of your dreams. Instead she’s going to feed off your misery until you’re a wailing 300-lbs whale with no chance of landing any woman. So you need to shake this bitch loose.”
“W…why are you being so mean?” Lexie asked as she continued to sniffle. Sighing, the therapist reached into her new designer purse to pull out some tissues, less as a gesture of empathy and more to prevent more snot from staining her carpet.
“Cruel to be kind,” came the matter of fact reply. “Besides, the shock finally got you to stop sniveling, which is what you need to do. Stop groveling at that wicked girl’s feet. Pick yourself up, put a big smile on that big face of yours, and pretend that you don’t care until eventually you really don’t. Valentina wants your attention and for you to suffer. The best revenge is smiling and moving on with your life.”
“I…I just can’t,” came the quiet, sad response. “Ever since I grabbed a lock of her hair that fell off her head when she smirked in my face once. I’ve held onto that golden thread and worshiped it like a gilded idol for so long. I can’t stop thinking about it and I don’t know if I can give that obsession up!”
“Ugh, you really are pathetic,” Ms. Judge scowled in legitimate anger. “I can’t fucking help you if you won’t let my suggestions get through your thick skull. So get your fat ass out of my chair, waddle out of my office, and don’t you dare come back until you’re willing to do what I say!”
Five minutes later, Lexie’s loud wailing could still be heard outside the therapist’s office as Tina tried to console her. For some reason the sound gave Angie a perverse sense of pride and satisfaction. She could see why a bitch like Valentina would enjoy putting these poor girls in their place: the feeling of power and above all being right made her head throb with satisfaction. Even better, she now had 20 extra minutes of time before her next appointment, and she spent it teasing out her long, glossy ponytail for the umpteenth time that day.
Comments
Post a Comment