Nearly all sissy baby stories recount deep embarrassment at the coiffure so I will not bore you with the details my humiliations at the hairdressing salon as it follows a broadly similar pattern to the laser treatmen,t rather I will try to stick to a summary. It started out with the hairdresser coming to the house to do my hair in a girly female style. Strangely unlike the rest of my body I actually have a fine head of thick full brown hair so it is a hairdresser’s paradise to style even when short. It was therefore not too difficult a challenge to give my short hair a female look with a short straight fringe coming down over my forehead and a very well styled ladies cut especially around the ears.

Nanny let my hair grow but did get it professionally styled each month. Right from the start Nanny had me in sissy baby clothes for the hairdresser as it was in the privacy of her own home. I found the first visit very intense and uncomfortable, especially as the hairdresser was male and even still I find my sissy baby outings in front of males particularly undignified. After about five months my hair was beginning to grow to a length where more girly things could be done with it, unfortunately at the same time the Hairdresser decided to disappear to America on a two month holiday but he did recommend a salon in town so off we marched with me dressed in one of my more conservative ladies shorts, a ladies blouse but it could have passed for a man’s shirt to the unobservant plus of course my already wet nappies covered by the requisite plastic panties. As we arrived 15 minutes early for my appointment we sat in the reception area with me feeling distinctly uncomfortable until at last we were called. Nanny sat with me as my hair was washed but it was then she just said to the, thankfully female, hairdresser that I was a very shy pre-op transsexual and that she wanted my hair done in a very girly sissy style. I wished the leather chair would just swallow me whole. Nanny and the lady, Lizzy, openly discussed the styling as if I was not there and lo and behold one hour later I had my true first sissy styling with curled bits coming down the fringe, sides and back.

Over a period of time we went back once a month and just as in the beauty treatment salon my level of exposure was gradually increased. The month I was brought in my white see through shorts with pink plastic panties the manager just simply said it would be best if we waited in the staff room and they did me there. There was actually a playpen and some baby toys in the staff room for women coming in with a baby in tow so never one to lose an opportunity Nanny under pain of a 24 stroke caning if I disobeyed had me wait suckling a soother in the pen. Eventually my hair was long enough for proper ringlets to be put in so on that day we waited in the staff room with me dressed in one of my most magnificent full pink sissy party dresses with an enormous petticoat, pink tights and pink Mary-Janes. I was the essence of baby pink for the occasion of my first ringlets and I was feeling good about it.

The girls were well used to me by then so when my hair was finished each and every staff member came down to have a look at the gorgeous sissy baby with her new hair style. While I left the salon with a full coat on, Nanny did have me walk to the car with my new hair on full display plus of course she had to pop into a few shops for a wander.

Of course it is not advisable for anyone to go to the hairdressers in a beautiful sparkling clean dress and I thought Nanny gave me a very unfair scolding once we got home for dirtying my lovely sissy baby dress. She was most cross with me indeed and while I protested quite vehemently at the injustice of it all as it was not my fault all that did was turn a moderate punishment with my nursery strap into a hard punishment with the wooden paddle. Sometimes I think I will never learn Nanny is always but always right. Every solitary time I challenge her I end up with a very sore bottom. The key thing about that experience at the salon is that it led to a series of very humiliating and painful visits as Nanny decided it was more appropriate that I be dressed in a onesie for all future visits. She selected one with closed feet and hands that was quite tight fitting so it hugely emphasised by enormous nappied bottom. I actually felt far more humiliated in the play pen of the staff room dressed in the onesie, suckling my soother than I did in magnificent sissy finery especially as Nanny had put a large bib on me and give me strict instructions to adopt my baby persona. Nanny also gave me another humiliating instruction. As I was dressed in total baby mode I was to prove to the girls I was an absolute baby by making a poo poo in my nappy while the girls were doing my hair.

Nanny headed out for a bit of shopping as my ringlets were being washed, tidied and tightened up. I could not do it, despite having endured countless humiliations thoughout my life I could not actually make myself soil my nappy while sitting in the chair in front of the stylist. There I was sitting on a chair in the staff room of a salon in a tight fitting onesie and bib suckling on a dummy, swaddled in huge terry nappies and plastic panties but I could not go that extra mile. It was a step too far for me. I paid a sorry price for it over the next month. I went home to 24 extremely hard strokes of the senior cane which I would get every Thursday until my next appointment in four weeks time while my pink nursery paddle used for my twice daily maintenance spankings was hung up on the wall for the month to be replaced by the hard wooden paddle.

Four weeks later dressed in the same clothes I got the same instruction except this time I was to actually ask the stylist for permission to make a poo poo in my nappy. Unbelievably I could not ask her, I just could not bring myself to ask her for permission. When she was getting the hair dryer I most certainly found time to quietly lift my bottom out of the chair to fill my nappy and had done my shameful business by the time she returned but I could not actually ask her for permission. Nanny’s anger matched that night when I threw the bottle out of the playpen. The wooden paddle joined my pink nursery paddle for a four week holiday on the wall of the nursery while the tawse tended to its daily business of correcting my naughtiness to be supplemented by 12 angry strokes of cane every morning, nothing remotely like my usually but not always rather timid six stokes at six o clock. It was four weeks of very serious punishment and despite the padding of all my nappies it was a six full weeks before I could sit down without feeling an unmerciful throb. Yes! The next time I exploded into my nappy in full view of the stylist, the junior and the manager and endured the indignity of sitting in the play pen with rattles and two bottles for a full hour before Nanny came to collect me. Believe you me I was happy to do so safe in the knowledge that Nanny would be pleased with me! In fact despite me being a bit sniffy she gave me a great big hug and a kiss and she made my dinner time bottles of mush more pleasant tasting than usual.

The one area where Nanny pushed the buttons of public humiliation a bit faster than normal is of course the beach. The very first day we went to the beach she had me sit down in the sand stripped to nothing but wet terry nappies and clear plastic panties building sand castles. Sure she picked a reasonably remote area of the beach but there was still enough passers bye to make it interesting for her and humiliating for me. The next time she came even more prepared, sat close enough to the edge of a pool and on the beach quietly changed me out of the terry nappies into an adult pull up panty making me sit in the pool splashing. She was hoping to put me back into a terry nappy and plastics on the beach but that proved impracticable never the less she did manage to get fresh pull up on.

That actually proved to be another problem because Nanny ensures I am a heavy wetter so under no circumstances was a pull up going to last the journey home. She actually had to stop at Boots on the way home, send me in to buy a packet of adult nappies and managed to find a quiet car park where in the car she awkwardly put me into a disposable before pulling the pull ups up over it. Just as well too as I did wet heavily on the way home and hate to countenance the punishment I would have got had the seat of her car been saturated.

The next trip to the beach saw me go for a full swim in pull ups and this time not only did she actually manage to change me into a terry nappy and plastic pants on the beach for the journey home she actually fed me a bottle of milk while on the beach. To be fair she did bring a small wind shielder which gave her what limited privacy she needed. The final trip of that summer saw her switch the pull up for a disposable. She actually took off my terry nappies, put me into the disposable, had me crawl to a pool and sit there playing in the nappy. She then got me back into my terries and plastics and in one of the beach side shops we purchased a pair of ladies shorts and a tee shirt for me to wear instead of my male trousers and shirt. Once we got back to the car unhappy with my sulky behaviour at my new clothes she actually did put me over her knee in the back seat of the car for a mild and not very long spanking but it was tremendously humiliating for me.