It’s not that hard

It started with one too many smug corrections.

Nathan loved his girlfriend Caroline, sure, but he just couldn’t help himself on the court. Every time she missed a shot, he’d “helpfully” chime in — “You’ve gotta flick your wrist more, babe.” “That form’s a little off.” “Here, let me show you. It’s not that hard.”

Caroline had been patient. Very patient. After the third correction, she casually reminded him, “You do know I played varsity in high school, right?”

He scoffed, waving it off. “Yeah, but… I mean, that was women’s basketball. That’s not really the same thing.”

She stopped dribbling. Slowly turned her head. “What did you say?”

Before Nathan could backpedal, Caroline had already challenged him to a quick one-on-one. Ten minutes later, he was bent over at the waist, drenched in sweat and utterly humiliated—while she stood tall, barely winded.

She walked past him with a smirk and slapped his ass. “You really thought you could keep up with me?”

Her smile widened as she added, “Let’s talk about your punishment.”

The next morning, Nathan found himself being led into a sleek downtown salon, all gleaming white tile and soft pink accents. His oversized hoodie and gym shorts looked painfully out of place.

“Is this really necessary?” he mumbled, barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” Caroline replied flatly, not slowing her stride.

Without another word, she guided him toward the back, where the staff was already waiting.

Nathan was led to a plush white waxing table and told to strip. When he hesitated, Caroline yanked his shorts down herself, exposing his soft, trembling little dick to the amused salon staff. His cheeks burned as he climbed onto the table, legs shaking, and the waxing began. Warm strips were pressed to his skin and ripped away in swift, practiced motions, leaving him red-faced as the girls cooed over how smooth and adorably bare he was becoming.

After the waxing, his brows were quickly shaped into soft, feminine arches. Then came the makeup. A light foundation evened his flushed skin, followed by a hint of blush, a touch of gloss, and a little mascara to make his eyes stand out. It was simple, subtle… and enough to leave him looking undeniably girly.

Caroline watched from a plush chair, legs crossed, sipping a latte. “He’s coming along so well,” she purred. “Let’s do a high pony next. And maybe give him that peachy pink polish? He needs to look good holding a basketball.”

The salon giggled as they gathered around him, brushing out his hair into a sleek, bouncy ponytail, letting the strands frame his delicate jawline. Pale pink gel polish was applied to his fingers and toes. When they stepped back, Nathan stared at his reflection, cheeks burning. He didn’t even look like a boy anymore. He looked like a bratty little cheerleader. Then Caroline stepped behind him and held up his outfit.

A cropped baby blue hoodie, white socks and sneakers… and nothing else but a snug white thong.

“No shorts?” Nathan asked weakly, trembling.

Caroline grinned. “I had a cute little skirt picked out… but honestly? It’d be a crime to hide that smooth, perky ass.”

She dressed him slowly, tugging the thong high between his cheeks until it nearly disappeared. His tiny bulge was clearly visible, barely pressing against the fabric—helpless, pathetic. The hoodie settled just high enough to frame the soft curve of his ass with every embarrassed step.

Caroline brought him back to the court, striding ahead while Nathan followed with hesitant steps, clutching the ball in his freshly polished fingers. He began to dribble—slow, unsure—cheeks burning as his bare thighs trembled and his ass jiggled with every bounce.

“Don’t worry, baby girl,” Caroline said with a smirk, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I’ll teach you how to play… it’s not that hard.”