Remix, Chapter 6: Breakdown free porn video

Remix, Chapter 6: Breakdown By Brevdravis James wondered if she could get away with sweatpants today. Although her mother's slacks were slightly more comfortable than the male clothes she owned, they ended at the bottom of her calves. Shorts were out, since the last thing she needed today was Randall humming a ZZ Top song whenever she walked by. James finally gave in to her initial idea, and pulled on the light grey sweatpants. Her mother would probably give her garbage about wearing them, but she figured that she could just point out that the entire reason they were taking this little trip was to get clothing. James was tempted to dig in her wardrobe for the most offensive t- shirt she had, but she once again pulled back on the impulse, instead merely selecting another polo shirt, this one a deep red. Hopefully that would keep her mother off her back. James yanked her damp hair back, securing it tightly with a rubber band. The tug on the strands was uncomfortable as always, but for some reason, today the sensation of wrongness wasn't going away. When she had been male, the feeling of tightness in her hair had tended to dissipate after a few moments, not really noticeable until she would remove the rubber band. Now, it felt as if every hair that was restrained by the slightly sticky elastic was being agonizingly pulled from her scalp whenever she turned her head. "Please tell me this is just because it's new." James muttered to herself, pulling the rubber band free of her hair. A few strands came with it, intertwined in the rubber. There was an actual feeling of relief, as the strands fell back into position around her shoulder. "Maybe that's why my girlfriend always offered me a scrunchy whenever she saw me use one of these." James mused to herself as she tossed the elastic into a wastebasket. Unwilling to waste any more time on preparations, James pulled on her one armed leather jacket, and threw open the door to her room. She moved quickly to the front room, where her mother and sister were waiting. "We're still getting a new jacket today." Anne commented as she observed her child. "Yeah, I know." James muttered. She still didn't want to do this. Well, at least she didn't want to go to the mall to go "Shopping". Although it would be nice to have some fricking clothes that fit, she doubted very much her mother would approve of her just replacing her wardrobe with the exact same items that she already owned. "This is sooo cool!" Elaine bubbled, drawing James' attention. Elaine had braided her hair into two pigtails that streamed down her back sometime during James' lengthy sleep. Combined with the jeans and t-shirt, she looked like a typical young teenage girl about to go hang out with friends. Ugh. James waited on the wooden front porch of the house while her mother gathered her things and closed and locked the door. She noted that Randall's truck was gone, which was a good sign. The less she had to deal with his royal jerkness, the happier she would be. When everyone was fully prepared, they piled into the station wagon, James taking the shotgun seat. Instead of heading directly towards the main thoroughfare, his mother turned the car to the right, and began to ascend the hill. James wondered what was wrong, before she remembered that Elaine's friend Julie was going to be joining them. The thought merely added to her torture. Why couldn't they have just staked her down with some honey in the desert? Julie, now there was an interesting girl. James recalled that she was the same age as Elaine, and that they had been friends for as long as she could remember. They played games together, slept over at each other's houses constantly, and generally acted just as sickeningly sweet as two little sociopaths could. The car rolled in to the driveway of the large ranch style house, and Anne shut off the motor. "Uhm, I'll just wait here." James said, making no move to undo her seatbelt. "Maggie, I think you..." Anne paused in the middle of her conciliatory thought, and her tone when she continued was tinged with exasperation, "Fine. You sit here in the car and be anti-social." Elaine had already exited the car, practically skipping up to the front door of the house. She rang the doorbell, and turned back to the car, waving for Anne to join her. "Just remember something, Margaret James Fletcher," Anne used her new full name for the first time, driving home exactly how upset she was, "You are only sixteen years old. You may be out of high school, but that does NOT mean you are an adult. You WILL be social, you WILL be pleasant, and if you want to go off to college, you WILL go shopping with me today, and you WILL NOT give me any problems. Do you understand?" James hated this tone. She wasn't sure what she had said to set Anne off, but she knew that if she responded with anything but "yes, mom", she could look forward to another date with the Tribunal. "Yes, mom." James said calmly. "I'll try, Ok?" "Good. Now let's go get Julie." James took a deep breath and unbuckled her seatbelt. She opened the car door, and followed her mother up to the front door of the house, where a fairly heavy-set woman was waving while she chatted with Elaine and another young girl who he knew to be Julie. Julie was an athletic girl, with a long brown braided ponytail which fell halfway down her back. She seemed to have coordinated outfits over the phone with Elaine earlier, since they both were wearing similar t-shirts with their blue jeans. The large woman who James knew as Julie's mother chatted briefly with Anne. Anne explained about the shopping trip for Maggie, conspicuously leaving out the fact that "Maggie" was "James". The conversation seemed to end very quickly, with Anne pointing meaningfully at her watch, and Julie's mother nodding knowingly. Julie held hands with Elaine as the two girls raced towards the car. Julie raced to the front right of the car, shouting "SHOTGUN!" at the top of her lungs. James rolled her eyes but said nothing, merely moving to the unoccupied seat in the car and sitting down. Anne started the car after they had all piled in, and started it rolling down the street towards the main section of town. "Hi, Maggie! Elaine told me all about you!" Julie leaned back in her seat to look into James' face. "Really?" James said, wondering how much Elaine had gone on to her friend. "Yeah, it?s really sad about your parents. I'm sorry." What? James had no idea what she was talking about. His parents? Mom was sitting right there... "Yeah, I told her about how Aunt Francie died, and how you're going to be living with us now." "That was very, um, original of you." "Elaine? What did you tell her?" Anne asked, also looking back, but looking towards her younger daughter. "Well, you know, how Maggie's going to be living with us because of that fire in, uh, her house in San Francisco?" "Uh-huh...." Anne said, listening to the little fiction that Elaine had created. "Because, uhm, Maggie lost almost everything....And James is over at summer camp.....So, since she's almost the same size as he is, uh....you let her use some of his clothes." "Naah, She's WAAAAY taller than James." Julie laughed. "James is soooo short." "Is not." Elaine retorted, "He was like, uhm, I mean he's tall." "Uhm, Anne. Are you sure that you want to let this continue?" James was hesitant to contradict her little sister, but at the same time, this little convoluted soap-opera had the potential to create more problems than it would solve. "Not really." Anne said, looking back at Elaine. "It was really sweet of you to make up a story about Maggie, but I think that it would be a lot better if you told the truth." "Aww..." Elaine sighed, looking at Julie with a bitter expression. "Ok. Maggie was my brother James." "EEEEEWWWWW!!!!" Julie shrieked, somewhat repulsed. "You mean he's like one of those guys that dress up like a girl?" "NO!" James responded before Elaine had a chance to answer. He didn't like the idea of blabbing this story to everyone already, but if she was going to tell it, she could at least get it right! "It's a medical condition." "Weird. So you're like, totally a girl?" Julie asked, digging in her little bag. She pulled out a stick of gum, and handed it backwards to Elaine, before opening one of her own and popping it into her mouth. "Yes, she is." Anne answered for James, turning the car onto the main highway. "Yeah, my brother's a girl. So you can stop asking me to set you up with him!" Elaine stuck her tongue out at Julie, eliciting a laugh. "I was kidding, you jerk!" Julie laughed, looking back at James with a slightly wistful expression. She wasn't sure what it meant, but in a way she was a little flattered. Maybe his little sister wasn't as much of a psycho-bitch as she had thought. The way she had tried to cover for James was actually pretty sweet. Perhaps the idea of having a big sister was a little more appealing to her, than her awkward, cynical and anti-social brother had been. The car rumbled down a small underpass. Up ahead on the left was Del Monte Center, a rather upscale mall. Anne turned at the second entrance down, and pulled into the parking lot. James noted the time as nine forty five, as they passed a large clock on the local bank branch. Anne parked the station wagon between two other cars, fairly near the entrance of Macy's. Del Monte Center was not a typical mall. It was laid out in an open-air arrangement, with the shops in several buildings. The general layout was a central strip of stores, and outlying strips on both sides of that. Fountains and small gardens dominated the landscaping of the small patches of earth between the buildings. They had parked near the center point of the mall on the lower level, since Macy's was one of the "anchors" of the center. "So, we'll start with the basics." Anne commented as she smoothly locked the car door. "Fine." James mumbled, watching his sister and her friend smiling and giggling about something. They didn't seem to be shooting many looks in her direction, so she figured that they had some private joke that they did not want to share. "Elaine, you might just want to go on ahead. I'll meet you at the main fountain in about two hours, all right?" Anne turned her attention to the two girls, who were already about ten feet away. "Awww, but we wanted to help!" Julie said, turning back and looking at James and Anne, who were still near the car. "I don't think that you find underwear shopping to be that much fun, girls." Anne stated flatly. "If you really want to help, go look around at some of the other stores, and have some ideas for us later." James wasn't too surprised. She figured that his mother would start with the absolute basics. She watched her sister and her friend head off into the depths of the mall, ascending the small escalator that lead to the main areas. "So, where are we going shopping for underwear? Please don't say Vee Ess." James tried to pass it off as a joke, but she really didn't want to shop for garments at a lingerie shop. "Well, no. Not for the basics at any rate." Anne smiled, leading James in the opposite direction from the escalators. "I figured that Mervyns would be appropriate." Thank you god, James murmured to herself. Mervyns was at the far end of the mall. Since they had parked in the middle, it was a fairly short walk. As they walked, James gazed wistfully at the Software Etc, which was one of the only stores that she had actually enjoyed going into as a youth. She wondered if the clerks she had known the last time around were still working there. The store had eventually disappeared, like many chain retailers, but she had fond memories of hanging out. The first thing that hit James when she entered Mervyns was the elevator music. That, and the chill breeze from the air conditioning. Styles came and went, but department stores never changed. There always would be the huge racks of garments, separated by the small tiled walkways. There would always be the vaguely disinterested clerks, most of whom were folding clothes, before scurrying over to ring up some purchase. It was an experience that she wished was over already. "I just realized, we don't even know your sizes." Anne commented, turning to look at her daughter with an appraising eye. "We'll have to get you measured." James wanted to veto that. She already was having enough trouble getting used to her body without some minimum wage slave running his hands all over her with a measuring tape. "Excuse me, ma'am?" Anne spoke rapidly to a small elderly woman folding a shirt. If it hadn't been for the name tag, James would have easily mistaken her for a fellow shopper. The woman turned away from the rack she was working on and smiled a fake "customer service" smile. James had thrown enough of them around in her time to know an act when she saw one. "Yes, howcanIhelpyou?" The woman ran the words together, speaking them without conscious thought. "This is just crazy. My daughter Maggie," Anne gestured towards James, "has just finished a big growth spurt. We have absolutely no idea what her sizes are." "Oh. Let me get a tape." The woman replied, and moved towards a small island in the middle of the racks where a service desk lay. She returned quickly, brandishing a long white tape measure. She moved close to James, who uncomfortably stood her ground. "I need you to take off your jacket, miss." The woman spoke. Grimacing, James pulled the bomber jacket off, and set it on the floor. "Okay, arms up." The woman ran the tape around James' back, pulling it tight across her chest. "36." James sighed. Oh great, not only did she have to be a woman, she had to have the standard centerfold measurements. The woman merely moved the tape down to set about James' waist. "28." The tape moved down again, pressing around the tops of James' legs. "34." Ok, so it wasn't centerfold material. Combined with her height, James realized that she was actually pretty skinny. As she mused, James was momentarily shocked when the lady put the tape measure even lower and began measuring her inseam. That wasn't expected. James also noted that his mother had taken out a small piece of paper and a pen, and was hurriedly jotting notes. "Inseam is 30. Is that enough to go from, or do you want the others too?" The lady had an expression on her face that suggested that she would be extremely unhappy if it wasn't. "No that's great. Eyeballing it, what size dress are we looking at?" Anne asked, completing her notes. The little old lady sized James up, and seemed to do a few quick mental calculations. "I'd guess about a ten. Start there." "Great. Thanks." Anne smiled at the lady, who immediately returned to her folding after draping the measuring tape over her own neck. James retrieved her jacket, but at a warning look from Anne, merely draped it over one arm. "So, upstairs then." Anne led her reluctant offspring towards the escalators to the upper level. As they rode up them, James took the opportunity to look at herself in the small mirrors that lined the escalator's path. With some embarrassment, James noted that the fact she wasn't wearing a bra was fairly obvious in the way she moved beneath her shirt. They turned right at the top of the escalator, moving past a selection of table settings. Ahead of them, lay a small section that James had spent as little time as possible in during his tenure as a man. They were heading into the "intimates". It was strange. James knew she shouldn't be embarrassed, but she felt like a pervert walking into the section. What made her even more uncomfortable was the fact that she WAS shopping for herself in this section. Her eyes flitted around as her mother led her deeper into the area. She tried to see something, anything that wasn't totally frilly. "So, you're going to need at least two weeks worth of....." Anne began, before she noticed the bright red blush that had crept across James' face. "Maggie, are you okay?" "Yeah. I'm fine mom." James said, feeling the blood rushing just under the skin of her cheeks. She could practically feel a pulse beneath her eyes. "Ok." Anne's lips pursed, stifling a giggle at James' embarrassment. "Let's see. For basic pant....underwear, you're going to need something comfortable." "How bout these?" James' hand moved rapidly, grabbing a plastic wrapped packet of white underwear. "Well, that's pretty basic honey. Did you check the size?" James glanced down at the package which featured a blonde model reclining with a smile on her face. Her eyes scanned, before noting a small number in the corner, which read twenty-six. "Uh, no." James glanced back at the rack, searching until her eyes lighted on a package with the number she needed. "Here these'll do." "Are you sure, honey? Don't you want to look more?" "Nope, these look great. What's next?" James filled her arms with the packages, counting five of them out. "You still shop the same way." Anne looked at her child with an wry expression. "Okay, we need to get you some bras. Let's see..." Anne's eyes scanned over James' chest. " I think you're about a see, but we need to try them on." "Can't we just go with see then?" James asked. The last thing she wanted to be doing was trying on "intimates". "Yes, but if it hurts you to wear, I'm not coming back here." Anne stated, relieving James of the plastic wrapped packets. "Plus you need something for your sports and your formals too. Actually I don't think we'll get the formals here." "Ok, Fine. Where's the rooms?" "Honey, we need to pick out what you're getting first." The next fifteen minutes were sheer torture to James. Her mother seemed to delight in pawing through every rack, commenting on which ones looked nice, which would compliment her skin, and numerous other things that James truly did not care about. James merely went along with her, trying to deflect her suggestions to the most functional items. They eventually compromised on two different styles after a few tense moments. Finally, with undergarments in hand, James graciously headed to the changing rooms. Inside the small booth, James locked the door, looking down at the floor and noticing how the lower portions of her legs were visible. Her thoughts immediately went to the "upskirt" videos that the internet would make popular in a few years. She immediately felt very vulnerable. "Calm down, James." She spoke to herself quietly, "You can't spend the rest of your life hiding in your room because somebody MIGHT peek at you." With that thought, and a deep breath, she pulled her polo shirt up over her head. The t-shirt underneath quickly followed, and she placed them on the small changing room seat. Her eyes drifted to the clothing she was about to try on. The sports bra first, she thought. That'll be easy. Thinking of her mother's guess, she selected the one marked "C". She grasped the small garment in her hands, pulled it over her head, and slid her arms in. It rode at her collarbones, and she pushed the fabric down, over her breasts. The feeling was one of tightness, as the material held her in place. There was a brief moment of pain, causing her to adjust herself to remove the pinch in the skin. She turned, to look at herself in the small changing room mirror. Overall, the feeling of restraint was interesting. When she turned, her breasts no longer swayed slightly. If anything the feeling was similar to the brace she had had to wear while her collarbone had been shattered. Restraint. "Ok, it doesn't hurt." She thought, looking at herself in the mirror. The grey material of the bra swelled with her breaths. The pressure was there, but she felt more secured. As an experiment she hopped slightly on the balls of her feet, noting how she barely shifted. It didn't make her feel any more like a man again, but her equipment wasn't so obviously in the way. "Kinda like a jock strap for tits...." James thought, as she pulled the bra up. Her breasts came free, and the feeling of pressure immediately abated. "Ugh. If I can, I'm doing without as much as possible." she silently hoped. However, she recalled exactly how women on the street were looked at if they went without. James piled the rest of the sports bras into a pile, after trying on two others as an experiment. The smaller of the two hurt so much that she couldn't even finished pulling it on. The other was more comfortable than the "C", but left her body with so much mobility that it was like she wasn't wearing any bra at all. Steeling herself, James looked down at the white cups of the everyday, average, boring bra that she had wheedled her mother into accepting. Her only experience with these things had been with former girlfriends. She recalled what a bitch bras had been to take off. Slowly, she lifted the two half globes into place, feeling them snug against herself. The feeling of pressure that had been present with the sports bra was still there, but lessened considerably. She slid her arms through the straps and reached behind herself, attempting to fasten the small hooks. After far too many false starts, she felt the hooks mate with the loops, and knew that she had finally got it right. James felt the same restraint she had felt with the earlier bra. This bra did not press her breasts back against her chest, however. The undergarment held her body up, but not uncomfortably so. If anything, she felt safer to move, since so far today she had been nervous to reach for a drink in fear of knocking something over. James wasn't used to her breasts completely yet, and accidentally rubbing against them was distracting. She realized that she could get used to this, but, like everything else about her life right now, it would take time. James finished removing the under things, and rapidly redonned her shirt. Dividing the pile of clothes into two, she opened the door to her booth and walked down the little aisle to the seat where her mother was waiting. "All done?" Anne asked. "Yeah, you were right. It was a see." James said, placing the incorrect sizes on the "Go-back" pile. "Did you try on the others?" Anne asked, looking at James suspiciously. "Yes and they hurt. Okay?" he affirmed, a little miffed at his mother's suggestion. He may not like having to try on clothes, but pain was not something he enjoyed dealing with. "Okay. Well, I guess that's that then. Unless you wanted to get your formals here?" Anne suggested, pointing to a wall filled with slightly more risqu? items. "Nah, I'll wait thanks." James deflected the suggestion. "Can I get some jeans? Mine don't fit anymore." "Sure. By the way, you're putting a bra on as soon as we buy them. How about your shirts? Do your polos still fit?" "Yeah, that cuts down on that." James was actually extremely pleased with that fact. She had always like that particular cut of shirt, and the fact that she could still wear them as a woman was a welcome surprise. "Well, we still need a few other shirts, but that does help." Anne said, leading James back towards the escalators down. "So, what colors are we looking at?" "Uh, basic red, blue, black?" James said, a little confused. Colors were colors. You picked whatever you liked and let the rest go. "Yes, Maggie, but which blue? Which Red? I actually think you might want to try an Emerald Green." Anne said, explaining. She led James towards the women?s section of the downstairs. "Jeans first, Ok?" James answered, pointing at a selection of shelves with a variety of jeans on them. "Five sixties?" "Huh?" "Levis' cut for a girl." "Sure, uh twenty eight, thirties and we're good." "Well, you still have to try them on. What color?" "Blue or black. It doesn't really matter mom." "Well, did you want to try a white?" "Not really mom. Can we just please get this done with? Jeans are one of the only things I really know how to shop for." "Yes, I know. It seemed to be the only thing you lived in." Anne's comment was slightly bitter. "Only three pairs." James nodded, as she grabbed two pairs of blue jeans and a black pair as well. Trying them on took only a minute, since the sizes had already been checked. Triumphantly, she returned to her mother, holding the jeans up. "Perfect fit maw!" she crowed. "Told ya I knew something." "Fine. Now let's see about tops...." Anne stated, pointing to a section that looked like a vast desert of nothing but shirts. Blouses, James corrected her thought. Blouses, and tops, and all the other things that women refuse to call shirts. Her mother led the way, moving from rack to rack with the eye of a practiced shopper, while James trailed behind, occasionally suggesting something that looked comfortable. Eventually they settled on several items. James got tired of running back and forth to the changing rooms, each time with another armload of shirts that Anne insisted would be perfect. To James, it was a case of red shirt, blue shirt, green shirt. Shirt without sleeves. Shirt with long sleeves. Shirt that fits waaaaay to loose. Shirt that crushes my tits. Shirt that looks normal but feels really soft. It was a welcome relief when Anne nodded at the final selections, and placed them on a counter next to the rest of the items that they were ready to purchase. "Okay, now for the last things we get here." Anne announced. She paused for a moment, then remarked, "You know this is the most fun I've had shopping in far too long." James knew she couldn't say the same. To her the whole exercise had been nothing but a long, drawn out chore. Her spirit did brighten slightly at the thought that they were almost done. "So, what's left, mom?" "Just bottoms. I think a couple pairs of slacks and few skirts, and we're done here." "No skirts." James had a horrid vision of a pervert with a video camera. "Maggie, you wore a skirt at my wedding." Anne said, looking at her with a smug expression. "Okay, first off that was not a skirt, that was a kilt." she recalled the thick, heavily pleated item well. The leather reinforcement at the waist had driven home the fact that it was a man's item, and not a delicate piece of finery. It actually had been an extremely comfortable piece of clothing, but she wasn't going to give her mother the satisfaction. "Secondly, it was for a formal occasion, and skirts are not formal wear." "Yes, but they do look nice." Anne said. "I'm not saying that you have to wear something revealing, I just think you should have something nice to wear." "But it's a skirt, mom!" James whined. "Keep this up, and I'll just pick them out. I know your sizes, and I'm sure you'll like what I get you." Visions of pink frilly things swam in James' mind. She rolled her eyes, before nodding her assent. "All right, but I'm not wearing pastels." The last thing that she wanted to do was to look like a Martha Stewart reject. Fortunately for James, the skirt shopping went fairly quickly. Anne showed considerable respect for her wishes, and selected several darker colored pieces that ended below the knee. James smirked when she noticed that Anne had selected a tartan skirt among the items that she wanted her to try on. The entire affair was over in under a half an hour. James lounged by the cash register as she watched her mother fork over a credit card to the clerk who was ringing up the purchases and placing them into large paper bags. With a flourish, Anne signed the receipt that was handed to her, and held the bags out to James. "C'mon Maggie, you get to carry." Anne glanced at her watch. "Looks like we have just enough time to drop this at the car before we meet up with Elaine and Julie." Slightly burdened by the large load, James carried the bags as she followed her mother out of the store. When they reached the car, Anne simply opened the wagon's tailgate, and allowed James to pile the bags in. When James had finished, she was about to close the tailgate when Anne's voice interrupted her. "Forgetting something, honey?" "What?" James asked. "Bra." Anne gestured at James' shirt. Shrugging his shoulders, James fished in one of the bags, pulling out one of the white linens. "I'll stop at the bathroom. Okay?" "Why don't I meet you at the fountain?" Anne asked. "Sure." James nodded, before she headed towards the public restroom near where they had parked. *** To Be Continued....