Lockdown! 14

Chapter 14

Hearing the bickering, an annoyed Veronica entered the living room to see what all the commotion was about. What she found was Paul on the sofa, up on his knees with tears in his eyes, while Kamsi held back Tim who looked like he was about to rip his head off.

“For crying out loud,” Veronica cried. “What’s happened now? Living with you lot is like living with a house full of toddlers!”

Snarling at Paul one last time, Tim turned to face Veronica. “It’s not us! It’s him with his snidey comments. He’s so rude!”

“I’m sorry,” Paul announced, his words almost inaudible, mixed amongst his chuckling. “This is too funny. I mean, look at their eyebrows!”

Veronica let out a heavy sigh, “Right, enough of this. It’s too early. Karmen, Kylie. Grab your stuff. It’s time to leave.”

“But it’s too early. I was just about to make a coffee,” Tim cried out in frustration.

“Yeah, why are we being punished? When he gets to just sit there all comfortable and make fun of us.” Kamsi wailed.

“Now, girls!” Veronica boomed, “unless you ‘d rather go pack your bags and take your chances finding somewhere else to live.”

Kamsi and Tim turned before huffing and puffing towards the kitchen to grab their bags and coats. Veronica glared at Paul for a moment before following Kamsi and Tim towards the kitchen, her prolonged stare exposing the irritation she felt.

Still chuckling to himself as he watched his two friends totter out the front door, Paul lay back down on the sofa and pondered whether or not to turn on the television. There wasn’t really anything, in particular, he wanted to watch, but then again, what else was he going to do with his morning? It’s not like he planned on going anywhere.

Having found the TV remote under a nearby cushion, Paul fiddled about with it for a few seconds, trying to find a comfortable position for it in his hand. Completing his task, he was just about to bring down one of his long, pink-tipped nails to press the power button when Veronica snatched it from him.

“Why do you always have to be such an arsehole?” She announced, looking him dead in the eyes.

Scoffing, Paul turned away. “I was only having a laugh. It’s our thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What I understand is. Your friends were nervous about going out to find a job. Money to help contribute towards the repayments for YOUR house. And what do you do? You humiliate them.”

“Jeez, Veronica,” Paul replied, rolling his eyes. “Do you always have to be so dramatic? They’ll be fine. I told you, we always joke about like that.”

“And is the usual reaction, them wanting to punch you in the face?” Veronica shot back with her arms crossed.

“Alright, I admit it. Perhaps I took it a bit far, but you made them look like a pair of sissies.” Paul answered, trying to hold back a smile. “I’ll apologise later. Can I have the remote back now?”

“No!” Veronica announced sternly. “There’ll be no watching TV all day for you today. You’re helping me with my work.”

“And if I refuse?” Paul replied, looking confident on the outside. But on the inside, secretly terrified about the prospect of spending another day with Veronica.

“Hmm, let me think,” Veronica replied slowly, exaggerating the syllables, and rubbing her chin. “How about I just call the police!”

“Go ahead then,” Paul fired back, again trying to act tough. “I’m sure they’ve got more serious crimes to investigate.”

“Perhaps,” Veronica replied, picking up her phone. “We can try them if you like? But at the very least, a story like yours has got to make the papers, right? Three crossdressed men committing identity fraud. And where will you go?”

“Go?” Paul repeated, his voice raising an octave. “I’m not leaving. This house is half mine.”

“That’s true, but you’ll still have to leave when I show them this,” Veronica said, opening her bag and retrieving out a piece of paper. “Did I not tell you. I’ve taken out a restraining order against you. The law says you can’t be within five hundred feet of me. And given you’ve got no male clothing left; I’ll ask again. Where will you go?”

Bowing his head in defeat, Paul let out a loud exaggerated sigh. “Fine, what do you need me to do?”

“Good, girl,” Veronica replied in a condescending voice while tossing him the remote. “Have ten minutes of TV while I get ready, then meet me in my bedroom.”

=====================================================================

“Veh-von-ica, Thot hath you done?” Paul gasped, having just turned back from seeing his reflection in the mirror. His newly inflated lips, making it more difficult than usual to speak.

Veronica just smiled and offered no answer. She knew it was a rhetorical question as she had talked Paul through every part of the transformation. Well, apart from his eyebrows, the fact she had waxed them clean off, was probably a bit of a shock to him. But after the comments in the living room earlier, she had let herself get a little carried away.

(See image 21)

To be honest, she had perhaps got a bit carried away everywhere else too. Like using the thickest and longest eyelash extensions she had, or the amount of filler, she had injected into Pauls face and lips.

She hadn’t originally planned to do such an extreme makeover but led by emotion, she had let her anger override her common sense. Letting out years of frustration and anger on her ex’s bewildered-looking face and loving every moment of it.

“My eyebrowth, they’re gone!” Paul shrieked. “I look like a threek!”

“A little freaky right now, I guess,” Veronica answered, holding back her laughter but not the smile plastered across her face. “But don’t worry, I’m not finished yet! We’re about to give you some new ones. We’ll make you pretty again. In fact, you’ll look better than ever.”

Looking over, Paul watched in horror as Veronica opened a case and retrieved a long thin object that looked like a fountain pen. He wanted to scream and shout, or perhaps just burst into tears, but something inside him resisted. In that moment, Paul knew no amount of begging and pleading would change his fate. All he could do was grin and bear Veronica's cruelty and try not to give her the satisfaction of seeing him break.

=====================================================================

“Careful now,” Veronica cautioned as she watched Paul stumble and almost fall. “Take smaller steps. You’re going to break an ankle!”

Eyes wide with terror, Paul looked down at his shaking legs, encased in a thin pair of pink tights. Above them, he wore a buttoned-up lilac dress that barely reached mid-thigh and made it difficult to fully move his arms. Straining his neck slightly, Paul looked past his long silky blonde hair resting on a disturbingly realistic looking pair of breasts, down towards his aching feet.

With every step he took, Paul felt like he was walking on ice as the tall spindly heel of his sandals forced him off balance. The base of the flimsy footwear also offered no purchase against the shiny wooden floor of the apartment, and the slick inside sole was no better. Causing his nyloned foot to slide about inside the strappy body of the shoe that dug painfully into his tired feet as he struggled for any kind of grip.

Having regained his balance, Paul set off across the room once again, the rhythmic sound of his heels ringing in his ears as he concentrated on his stride. “One, two, one, two,” his mind counted each time he felt his tall heel come into contact with the floor. Trying to take his mind off the pain in his ankles and his destination.

(See image 22)

Stopping in front of the apartment door, Paul reached out with shaking hands, his long pink nails rattling across the metallic door handle.

Turning, he looked back at Veronica in the living room, hoping for some kind of reprieve. All he got was an impatient look and a waving hand, urging him to hurry up.

Shuffling back around to face the door, Paul took a deep breath, closed his prettily made-up eyes, and pulled open the door.

Feeling the flutter of his lashes as he re-opened his eyes, Paul came face to face with a woman he’d never met before.

“Hello, I’m Tina,” the woman announced. “I’m here for my 2 o’clock appointment. Are you Veronica?”

“Paul opened his mouth to speak, but his voice betrayed him. Instead, he just gawked awkwardly at the woman with his mouth gaping.

“No, she’s my assistant, Paula,” Veronica announced, walking across the room to greet her client. “Sorry, she’s a little slow today. For heaven’s sake, Paula. Can you let our guest in?”

“Urh… urm… yes, sorry,” muttered Paul, clip-clopping to the side to let the woman inside as his heart threatened to burst right through his tight restrictive salon girl uniform.