Breakfast Club (Part 2)

Anna & Mars - Sapphic Slumber Party #11

*Guest Post written by Anna*

A couple weeks before the last Sapphic Slumber Party, I started a group chat with Mars, O, and Flor. I suggested doing a forced feminization/bullying makeover scene inspired by The Breakfast Club. I only meant to use the movie as a loose reference, but Mars, who never misses an opportunity to dress up, wore a pink top and red bob wig. (She also learned how to do the cleavage lipstick trick Molly does in the movie, because she's the best.) Flor arrived quoting the movie, which went completely over my head because I haven't actually seen The Breakfast Club in years and just have that one scene memorized.

Rather than go "Basket Case" with my style à la Ally Sheedy in the movie, I did my version of masc, mostly head-to-toe baggy black clothes and a baseball cap. (Alexx, for her part, was very affirming and kept giving me "'sup, bro" greetings all night). Some of what happens next is a stoned blur so apologies if I get details wrong, but:

Mars and O pushed me down into a chair. They took off my top layers. I know I was wearing a ratty old t-shirt and underwear underneath which O dutifully ripped off with her bare hands. I think the t-shirt was then used to bind my hands? They did get a tulle lavender nightie and kneesocks on me at some point, so I'm not sure if that happened before or after. Flor was there, bullying me, as she does so well. I kept saying that I was not like most girls, and would never be a conformist like them (at some point I turned into one of the goth kids from South Park). The words Stupid pretty baby were scrawled on my chest in lipstick, which, *chef's kiss*

Once I was dressed, the actual makeover started. Mars straddled me, and she used the neckline of my nightie to hold her makeup brushes in place as she worked.

This part of the scene slowed down; I remember it just being the two of us, even though photos from these moments show like, a dozen people fucking in the background. I hadn't had another person do my makeup in at least a decade. I was right—it's so intimate. And sensual! The tickling of the brush on my eyelids, the feeling of Mars's breath as she blew away some loose powder, the gentleness with which she applied liner to my lower lash line while taking care not to poke me in the eye.

(…to be continued)