Remix Chapter 13 Euphoria
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Remix, Chapter 4: Harmony free porn video
Remix, Chapter 4 : Harmony.
By Brevdravis
Wardrobe was beginning to become a problem for James.
Dejectedly, he tried pair after pair of his pants, noting how
each of them reached the same point on his legs before they
became uncomfortably tight. They were not too long, since he
had not lost a centimeter of his height, but the crushing
sensation about his hips made the garments virtually
unwearable. Admitting defeat, he retrieved the pair of
sweatpants that he had worn the previous day from his hamper
and tugged them on. It was a bit warm for them, but it was
better to have clothing that fit, after all.
Shirts were much easier to work with. If anything, all
of the items in his collection seemed to hang slightly loose
on his shoulders. Going with the casual look, he selected a
white t-shirt featuring an image of Bloom County characters
shouting, "Ahead Warp Zillion!!!!" It seemed to be
appropriate.
After finishing his wardrobe, he again pulled his hair
back into a ponytail, still slightly amazed at the length that
it had reached. Trying to hide a bit of it, he pulled on his
leather jacket, with the ponytail underneath. It restrained
his head movement only slightly, and concealed the bulk of his
follicles.
"You're not going out like that." Was the only response
from his mother upon spying his clothing selections, when he
entered the main room.
"I want to be comfortable." James replied, trying to
appeal to Anne's sense of fairness. It fell short.
"I am not going to take you to the hairdresser with you
looking like that." Anne ordered, pointing towards his room.
"You go up there right now and change into something that you
haven't worn recently."
"Nothing fits." James tried the half-truth, hoping that
it would work.
"Fine, I'll get you some pants." Anne replied, striding
in the direction of her own room. After a few moments she
returned, and handed James a pair of slacks. "Try these."
"Uh, these are yours, mom." James was about to continue
his objection, when he noticed the angry look in his mother's
eyes. Meekly, he ascended the stairs.
Once in his room, James shucked the sweatpants, and slid
the tan slacks over his legs. The feeling was different as the
garment easily slipped over his hips. The button was
different, fastening from the opposite side. Unlike his own
pants, the feelings of tightness were different in several
areas. The crotch was slightly uncomfortable, as it pressed
against his member in an awkward clasping. Apart from that,
the pants rode his hips, rather than his waist. They weren't
tight, but the length of the leg was a little short. James
selected a different shirt as well, this one a light grey
polo. It was loose, like the t-shirt had been, so he did not
even bother removing the t-shirt, wearing it like an
undershirt.
This time when he descended the stairs, his mother
looked him up and down with an appraising eye. She nodded
softly, before observing his jacket with disdain.
"Do you have to wear that?" She asked, gesturing at the
garment. It didn't really match with the rest of the outfit,
and gave his shape a blockier outline.
"C'mon mom, I changed the pants and the shirt." James
groaned, expecting that he would be forced to make another
ascent.
"All right, fine. But we're getting you a new jacket
before you go off to Moscow." Anne's sharp look had changed to
one of slight amusement.
James exited the house after his mother. They entered
the aged station wagon, and left the driveway.
"So have you thought about what kind of haircut you
want?" Anne asked, looking at the ponytail that James wore.
"Short."
"Oh, a pageboy, or something like that?"
"Shorter."
"Maggie, I am not going to have you getting a boy's
haircut."
"Mom, it's just going to grow out again." James groaned
at the sound of his new name. He desperately did not want to
respond to it, but there was no denying the inevitable.
"So, you want to look nice, don't you?" Anne asked,
turning the car onto a side street.
"I..... I suppose."
"We'll compromise. Shoulder length. Okay?" Anne's offer
was at least a step in the right direction. If worst came to
worst he could always just shave his head at home.
"All right." James finished, looking at the parking lot
where they had stopped. This wasn't the usual place that he
had come to get his haircut as a young man. Usually he had
just forked over ten bucks to the mall store and let them at
his head with a set of clippers. The shop in front of where
the car sat was a full fledged beauty parlor.
Anne removed the keys from the ignition, and undid her
seatbelt, sliding out of the car. She shut the door, and
waited patiently for James. James, for his part, took a deep
breath, whispered "non carborundum illegitimi", and stepped
out on his side. He allowed his mother to lead the way into
the foreign territory.
"Hi, Anne! Haven't seen you in a while." A thin, red
haired woman looked up from the head of hair she was working
on as they entered. "This must be Maggie!" The woman's arm
came up in a greeting.
Anne and the woman exchanged pleasantries, going over
numerous topics as the red-haired woman clipped away at her
customer. James reflected that hair that bright red had to be
from a bottle. In fact, the proprietor looked as if she was
her own best customer, since he was easily able to count six
earrings in her right ear alone.
"Okay, Betty, whaddya think?" The woman addressed her
customer again, holding a small mirror up.
Betty was obviously pleased with her haircut, gushing
out several compliments, before laboriously printing out a
check. After a few more pleasantries, the red-haired woman was
paid, and Betty practically skipped out, primping slightly as
she left.
"So, what brings you here today, Maggie?" The woman
addressed him. Anne merely nodded at James, waiting for him to
speak.
"I.... uh..... wanted to get a haircut?" James
proffered.
"Well, that's why I'm here!" The woman smiled again,
cleaning up clumps of hair from the floor with a small dustpan
and broom. "What do we have to work with?"
Shrugging off his jacket, James pulled his ponytail
around his shoulder to show the full length of his hair. The
woman's eyes brightened as she saw it, and a broad smile
crossed her face.
"Wow that looks nice already! What were you thinking? A
little color maybe? Lightening? Here, have a seat." She
gestured towards another chair, in front of a basin with a
shower nozzle attached.
"She wants to lose some length, Denise." Anne offered
from her seat. James noticed that she had picked up a copy of
People, and was reading it intently.
"But it's so nice!" Denise sighed as James leaned back
in the chair. Denise's hands quickly came around the back of
his head, removing the rubber band with a deft move and
spilling the blonde tangles into the basin. "You don't really
want to lose all that much, do you?"
"It's a bit of a pain, really." James watched as Denise
quickly adjusted the water temperature and tested it against
the back of her hand. Shrugging, she began to run the
showerhead through his hair, soaking every strand fully.
"Let me guess. Boyfriend doesn't like it." Denise said,
staring into James's face, as she worked. She reached for
something out of sight, and then James felt her hands again,
scrubbing at the hair she had just soaked. "Some guys just
don't appreciate how much work goes into long hair."
"It's not that, really." James tried quietly. Didn't she
realize he was a guy? Wasn't the lack of tits a big enough
giveaway?
"Suuuure, it isn't." Denise smirked, as she rinsed his
hair again with the nozzle. "High school guys can be such a
pain."
"Actually, Maggie's going to college this fall." Anne's
voice sounded a little far off, since the basin where his head
lay blocked a bit of the sound.
"Oh, fun! What's your major?" Denise asked, reaching for
some other substance. He felt her hands again on his scalp,
rubbing something else into his hair.
"I'm not sure yet." James answered, trying to stay
nonchalant. What the hell were they, girlfriends? He half
wanted to tell her to take her questions and shove them up her
ass. However, the presence of his mother kept that thought
strictly in his own mind.
Denise's strong hands began to twist his hair, squeezing
the remnants of water from the strands. The scent of the
various products was pleasant. James was momentarily stunned
by how nice everything smelled in here. He had never noticed
it before.
"Okay! Up!" Denise lifted James' hair out of the basin
and let it hang loose. She gestured towards the chair that had
been occupied only a few minutes before. "Have a seat."
He did so. With a smile, Denise fastened a small piece
of gauze about his neck, before pulling a large plastic sheet
up. It covered his body, wrapping about his neck. He stared at
the face in the mirror, with the long hair streaming straight
down from his scalp.
"So, how much are we losing? Here?" Denise marked a
small point about six inches from the tips of his hairs.
"A lot more." James replied, watching her hand rise
slowly. "More. More. More."
Denise's hand was about even with the bottom of his
shoulder blades at this point.
"Keep going."
"He's not worth it, Maggie." Denise stated, a look of
concern crossing her face. "Why don't you think about this for
a while?"
"Keep going. Shoulder length." James insisted, his eyes
flashing up to meet hers in the mirror.
"Anne! Talk to her. Is she absolutely sure she wants to
throw this much work away?" Denise called over her shoulder to
James' mother, who was watching intently.
"Are you sure about this, Maggie?" Anne asked a smile on
her face.
"YES! Can you please just cut my hair?" James addressed
the comment to both his mother and Denise. What was it? This
wasn't a major emotional trauma, he was just getting his hair
cut for Christ's sake!
"Okay..." Denise said after a moment, picking up a small
pair of shears. "Seems like such a waste though." With that
final comment, she began to make small snips.
James watched impassively as the hair began to fall
away. Denise worked quickly, talking all the while to Anne,
and him as well. Her topics ran the gamut, from discussions of
her boyfriend, to how her job was going, to oh god did you
hear about what Jenny Richards did at Doc Ricketts last night?
James tried to stumble through, but the vast majority of the
references eluded him. His mother had no such problem,
discussing each topic as if it was the solution to world
hunger.
Slowly, but surely, the final shape of James' hair took
shape. Denise had chosen a point at his shoulders to make the
final cut. She left most of the rest of the hair static,
parting it in the middle. She then blow dried the strands, and
finished it with a slight amount of mousse. Looking at himself
in the mirror, James realized that she had given him "the
Rachel."
"Ugh, I loathe the Rachel." James groaned. "Could we try
parting it on the left?"
"The what, babe?" Denise asked a look of confusion on
her face. James realized that "Friends" hadn't gotten
extremely popular yet. Denise probably thought she was being
original.
"Never mind, but I don't like my hair parted in the
middle." He tried again.
"That's easy." Denise responded, quickly flipping the
part in his hair towards the right with a deft motion of her
comb. "How's that?"
"Better." James replied. Actually it was.... pretty
darned good. The cut framed his face perfectly, showing off
his forehead and accentuating his eyes.
"It looks great!" Anne crowed, coming up behind Denise
and James. "Maggie, I think it's wonderful."
"Thanks, mo......Anne." James stuttered over the word,
realizing that she had probably not told Denise that he was
her... daughter.
Smiling, Anne wrote a check to Denise, who smiled in
response. Denise brushed the few remaining hairs off of the
cover, then undid it from James' neck. She smiled as James and
Anne turned to leave, and began sweeping up the piles of hair
on the floor.
"You did very well." Anne said as they entered the car
again. "I'm really proud of you."
"Thanks, mom." James answered, looking back at the
little shop.
"So, are we getting lunch for the shows?"
"Please." James replied, noticing how his stomach had
began to growl. "Uh, mom?"
"Yeah?" Anne looked over at him as she turned the car
out of the parking lot.
"Denise didn't know I was a guy, did she?" His comment
was soft, his gaze still on the beauty parlor.
"No. No she didn't."
***
"Slow down, honey. Your sandwich isn't going to run away
if you put it down for two seconds."
"Mom, I'm trying to watch the play here." James said,
around the mouthful of ham, turkey and roast beef sandwich,
piled high with Italian dressing, lettuce, onion. Nothing was
quite like that sandwich. Today was the first time he had had
it, in well, forever. It was all he could do to prevent
himself from wolfing the entire construction down in a few
barely chewed bites. What had really gotten to him was the
smell. The guys at the deli must have done something
different, because the various scents of the meats and
vegetables had coalesced into a whole that was infinitely more
pleasing than each individual piece.
Theatrefest, the day's activity, was, as usual, clich?.
The costumes were obviously dug out of the back of some prop
room, and the first gag during the fairy tales portion of the
proceedings had been Cinderella coming out to wash the floors
in a t-shirt featuring the heavy metal band, uh, Cinderella.
That pretty much set the tone for the rest of the activity.
On the small stage now, there was a rather tortured
depiction of a "Human Chess Game." The moves and dialogue were
pretty much just a set up for heavily choreographed sword-
fights, but it was interesting at least.
"Are you on your second one already?" Anne asked, her
attention wavering back and forth between the play and James,
stuffing his face.
"Mmmhmm...." he replied, as he chewed. Swallowing the
delectable morsel of food, he slurped a healthy swig from the
Snapple iced tea on the bench next to him. The lemon flavor
was an interesting counterpoint to the vinegar still present
in his mouth.
"Should I just set up a trough in the kitchen?" Anne
grimaced at her daughter's behavior. She tried to distract
herself by laughing along with the rest of the crowd at a
particularly vile pun by one of the onstage actors.
"I'm just hungry...." James nearly was whining, as he
took the last bite of his sandwich. The void in his stomach
had disappeared for now, but he knew that it was only a matter
of time before it would return.
"Honey, I know you are, but that doesn't mean you should
be eating like a pig." Anne's chastisement was not undeserved.
James knew that over the past few days the only thing that he
had been doing with food had been to shovel it down as fast as
possible, then look for more. The rumble in his stomach had
ceased for now, but there was a slight pressure lower down on
his abdomen.
"Ok, sorry mom. I'll be right back." James tossed the
apology and the statement off almost in the same breath.
"Where are you going?" Anne asked as James stood up from
the wooden bleachers where they were seated.
"Men's room." he replied, turning to leave.
"Uhm, Maggie? I think the other facilities might be more
appropriate."
"Huh? Oh, fine... sure." James was really getting sick
of this. Yet another variation in his daily routine. Ladies
room?
"Hurry back, I'll save your spot." Anne replied sweetly
as James walked off. Even that was beginning to get annoying,
as his pants pulled in different areas with every motion. He
moved past the bleachers towards a small corridor at the far
end of the plaza. At the end of the corridor were two doors,
leading to the respective men and women?s rooms. James noted
with some distress the four women in line.
"Oh fuck." James growled as he looked enviously at the
apparently empty men's room. He still had the equipment,
didn't he? Why the hell did he have to wait in fricking line
to take a piss? The minutes ticked away as James began to feel
the pressure in his lower stomach increasing. The first woman
in line, then the second went in. Another woman came up behind
him, extending the line down the corridor. James growled with
frustration as a man breezed past, walking directly into the
men's room.
Time dragged. Finally, when the pressure on his bladder
wall was becoming painful, the door opened. James practically
ran in, slamming the door behind him. He hurriedly undid his
pants, and took care of the urgent need.
A few moments later, washing his hands in the sink, he
reflected on why women went to the bathroom in groups. Company
for the fricking line.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he undid the bolt on the
door, and opened it, stepping out into the corridor. The next
woman in line quickly shut the door after breezing past him.
He smirked slightly, recalling how he had been in exactly that
position a few minutes ago. He walked down the corridor,
towards the plaza.
Lounging near the end of the corridor, a young kid with
long black hair looked up at James' approach.
"Hey, babe. How's James?"
"Huh?" James asked, turning to look down at the kid. He
had to be about sixteen, wearing a dark trench coat that was
totally out of place with the hot summer weather. He barely
came up to James' chin.
"You're wearing his jacket." The kid gestured towards
the one sleeved bomber that James wore. "You his girlfriend?"
"Huh? No, no. I'm not." James recalled this kid. He was
one of the Alvarado Rats. His name escaped James, but even
back in the time that he had hung out with them, he never knew
all of their names.
"Cool. You doing anything?" The expression on the kid's
face changed from curiosity, to a self-confident smirk.
??Cause if yer not, I was thinking you might want to hang
out."
James had the unpleasant thought that this kid was
looking at him like he was a side of beef. He knew exactly
what "Hang out" meant to the Rats. It meant go over to one of
their houses, whoever's parents weren't home, get drunk and
have sex. From first to last, it was something that did not
appeal to James whatsoever.
"No thanks." James said, about to move past the
trenchcoat mafia member, when he realized that the kid was
blocking his path. "Uhm, excuse me."
"Whoa, hold up, babe." The kid said, acting cool and
suave. Actually it appeared to James that the kid was
attempting to appear stoned. "What's yer name?"
"It's really none of your business, now EXCUSE ME."
James said again, attempting to get the arrogant little snot
to move.
"Hey, c'mon babe, I'm just making conversation." The kid
rested a foot against the wall, completely blocking the narrow
corridor.
Unwilling to deal with the little shit any longer, James
shoved past, knocking the barricading foot out of the way with
his arm as he did so. He was bigger than the kid, and the
action caused the youth to lose his balance, causing his arms
to flail rapidly as he slumped to the ground on his ass.
"FUCKING DYKE!" James heard the epithet but paid no heed
as he stormed across the plaza. The chutzpah of that kid had
infuriated him. It wasn't enough that he had to wait in line
for bathrooms, he now had to deal with guys trying to pick him
up on the way out!
"Well, you took a long time." Anne commented as James
returned to his seat in the bleachers.
"Line." The one word response conveyed the entire scene
to Anne, who nodded in response.
"Get used to it, honey." Anne shrugged. "There's going
to be a line whenever you go out to something big."
James just nodded, thinking about how much time that
would add up to, waiting in line to take a leak. Onstage, the
black team had just made checkmate, and was crowing about it
in classic theatrical style. James watched for a moment,
feeling his eyes starting to get heavy. The feeling came on
suddenly, with no warning whatsoever.
"Mom..." James asked, turning to Anne.
"Yes, Maggie?" Anne looked at him, watching the wide
yawn split his lips. "Tired? Do you want to go home?"
"Unless you just want me to go sleep in the car." James
offered.
"No, you need real rest." Anne stated, rising to her
feet. She collected the few plastic bags in which they had
brought their lunch. They walked towards the local bike path
that separated the plaza from the parking lot. James watched
the people as he walked, noting a woman in spandex on a
bicycle, racing past. He noted the curve of her leg as it
sloped up. Was he going to be a dyke? He still found women
beautiful, but he noticed that his gaze tended to drift
towards the general shape of their bodies now, and less
towards the chest. Shrugging, he followed his mother, trying
to keep his exhausted eyes open.
Aeryn
- 12.12.2021
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