Remix Chapter 13 Euphoria
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Remix, Chapter 10: Trance free porn video
Remix, Chapter 10: Trance
By Brevdravis
It wasn't the blood that freaked out James. Intellectually she
expected the shock, and was prepared for it. It wasn't the cramps
either, although they were a bitch and a half, creasing her lower
stomach like a vise. No, the part about having her period that really
pissed James off, was having to borrow a maxi-pad from her mother.
Anne's smile at the request had been strange, half a smile and
half a look of concern. Whatever thoughts were going through her head,
she immediately dragged James down to the nearest drugstore and plunked
a large pack of the items on the counter. The clerk seemed to pay no
attention, either to the items or to James' bright red features.
"Pee emm ess? There's no such thing. There's just a human being
in fucking pain." James thought to herself as she changed the pad in
her underwear. The blood had stopped flowing as much, since it was now
three days since the pad shopping trip. Being on the rag was not
something James had enjoyed, since it felt like she was wearing
diapers. However, despite her mother's suggestion that a tampon might
feel better, she was opposed to the idea. The idea of anything inside
her was abhorrent.
Finishing up in the bathroom, James washed her hands and walked
out to the main room. Anne was there, packing a few last items into a
small black purse that was totally different from the standard one that
she usually carried. She was dressed to go out, in a long green dress
that was perfectly coordinated with the light sweater that she wore
over it.
James recalled that it was her mother and Randall's anniversary
tonight. They had gone out every year on this date for the last four
years. She was surprised however, to note that Randall was nowhere to
be seen.
"Where's Randall?" James asked his mother, who turned exposing
her perfectly made up features.
"He's meeting me at the restaurant." Anne explained, picking up
her keys. "Now, I really want to thank you for watching Elaine and
Julie tonight."
"It's not like I have somewhere else to be, mom." James shrugged.
With her trip to college only a week away, James had spent most of her
recent time either playing the guitar, walking around the nicer parts
of town, or packing. "Where are they, anyway?"
"They're in Elaine's room. Now, make sure they're in bed by
eleven and no calling boys and asking them over." Anne cautioned.
"Not a problem mom. The last thing I want is a fourteen year old
boy in this house."
"Have fun!" Anne called back as she closed the door behind
herself. James watched out the window as her mother started up the
station wagon and backed out of the driveway. She noted that Randall's
work truck was still present, so he must have taken the smaller pickup.
The house was quiet, James noted, except for the faint sound of
music from her sister's room. That was to be expected, since Elaine and
Julie were heavily into music of almost every kind.
Guitar. James first impulse was to race up to her room and crank
the volume to maximum. Since she had gotten the instrument, her mother
had consistently praised her for the amount she practiced, but had also
cautioned her that the volume needed to be lower. James had always been
a member of the "If it's too loud, yer too old" school of guitar
playing, and keeping the volume at one had grated considerably.
"Not like Elaine's gonna complain." James snickered, pulling the
amp down the stairs. Her room was private, but the acoustics sucked.
The main room, with its high ceiling and numerous reflective surfaces.
Well, James had loved the sound during her all too brief concert, and
not taking advantage of the opportunity would be idiotic.
"These go up to eleven..." James snickered in a faux British rock
star voice as she adjusted the volume knob on the amplifier to a solid
eight. That was enough volume to really rock out, but not so much that
the windows would rattle.
What to play, what to play? She'd gotten most of her virtuoso
stuff out of her system over the last few days, and what she really
felt like playing was something different. Yasonori Mitsuda.
Mitsuda was not exactly a composer taught by the conservatories.
In fact, most of his best work wouldn't be out until ninety-seven. What
was incredible about his work was that it wasn't usually acknowledged
outside of Japan, at least as good music. Video games had never been
something that you generally looked to for symphonies.
James started slow, with a piece that was usually played on an
acoustic guitar. It consisted mostly of a few notes, with an occasional
chord thrown in. James half wished that he had a flute player here, so
he didn't have to work the melody as well as the bass line. It just
felt so good to kick back and play.
Her fingers still hurt, but over the past few days James had
grown accustomed to the pain. Compared to menstrual cramps, a little
pinching on her fingertips was nothing. There hadn't been any repeats
of the bloody fingers incident...
With that, James snickered, and changed tempo. This new piece had
some strong Indian influence, sounding almost as if it should be played
on a sitar. The chords were not typically western, being mostly in
minor key, and rapidly switching from high to low. Heck, it worked for
the Beatles.
"Did you make that up, Maggie?" Julie's voice from the hallway
wasn't as distracting as Randall's had been a few days previously.
James grinned, and turned, continuing to play as she did so. Julie and
Elaine stood in the doorway, listening to her play. The expression on
their faces was one of amusement. They actually looked like they were
enjoying the impromptu concert.
"Naah, heard it somewhere." James stated, flicking her hair back
with one hand after a powerful chord. There was really no way to
explain that the person who wrote it hadn't written it yet.
"Told ya she was good." Elaine said, leading Julie over to the
couch. Elaine leaned back as she sat down, while Julie tucked her bare
feet under herself. Neither of the girls wore shoes, and seemed to be a
bit underdressed.
"Yeah, but I thought you meant like good for somebody who'd just
picked up a guitar. Hey, Maggie, you know any Bon Jovi?" Julie split
her comment between the two sisters, finishing with a pleading gesture
towards James.
"Don't have the right pedal to do Sambora." James shrugged, as
she slipped into the opening notes of one of the bands more popular
songs. That was something she would need if she actually wanted to play
in a band. Right now, she was happy with what she was doing.
"What's a pedal?" Asked Elaine, a puzzled look coming across her
face.
"Lets you do different sounds." James explained, accelerating the
pace of her playing. Say what you will about Jon Bon Jovi's song
writing talent, his guitar player was a HARD act to do. With injured
fingers it was even more difficult, since Sambora had a nasty tendency
to work the strings with his fingers rather than using the vibratio.
After finishing the song, James realized that if she played
anymore, she would probably cut open her fingers again. Wrapping her
fingers was an option, but she thought that a little healing time would
probably be best.
"Sorry, girls, the artist must rest." James laughed, turning off
the amplifier.
"Aww, why do you have to stop?" Julie sighed, a bit disappointed.
"Fingers hurt." James explained wiggling her digits at the pair
on the couch.
"Why?" Elaine asked, not really comprehending.
"Look," James said, bringing her guitar over to where the two
girls sat, "Press against this string here." James gestured to the neck
of her guitar.
Elaine and Julie both took turns pressing the string against the
neck.
"Oh, I see, it makes a line on your finger." Julie said,
examining the red mark on her own hand.
"Yeah, now imagine how that feels after you do it a few hundred
times."
"Oww, that must hurt." Elaine remarked, looking at her own red
mark. "Can I see?"
James shrugged, turning her fingertips over so that the girls
could see the darker color of her finger tips, where the blood had
rushed close to the surface. Her one finger was still taped, since the
injury hadn't completely healed.
"So, does it always hurt to play?" Julie asked, looking at James
with sympathy in her eyes.
"No, not after you get used to it." James explained, "I've just
been playing a lot recently."
"Oooh, I know Maggie! You need a manicure!" Elaine crowed.
"Hah? What?" James asked, having turned back and unplugged her
guitar.
"That's a great idea! I bet Maggie's never had her nails done!"
Julie grinned at Elaine, then turned to James.
"Thanks, but no thanks." James shrugged, pulling the amplifier
towards the hallway.
"Aww, c'mon Maggie!" Elaine sighed. "I think it'd look great."
"I'm more of a Joan Jett than a Wilson sister, sis. Thanks
anyway." James laughed. It was sweet, in a way, for Elaine and Julie to
try to be so nice.
"C'mon! We'll even let you pick the colors!" Elaine offered, her
eyes sparkling.
"How many ways can I say no?" James groaned, abandoning the
amplifier at the doorway.
"Don't you want to?" Elaine asked, her voice taking on a softer,
disappointed tone.
"You two really want me to? Huh?"
"YEAH!" the pair on the couch shouted in unison. The twin smiles
gave James the distinct impression that they had already planned this.
It's like having a life size Barbie to Elaine, James thought.
Well, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. The irony of that thought
was not lost on James as she nodded her assent.
"All right, but I pick the color." James cautioned.
"One of em, at least!" Julie giggled, standing up and racing
towards Elaine's room.
"Just wait here!" Elaine grinned from ear to ear as she started
after her friend.
James decided that it would take them several minutes to get
everything together and hurriedly schlepped the guitar and amplifier
back up to her room. She returned to the living room just in time to
see the girls returning: Julie with a small bag, and Elaine with a
little basket.
"Ok, pick a color!" Elaine proffered the basket to James, and he
noted at least thirty different nail polishes within. The sheer array
of colors was staggering.
"Uh, gimme a minute." James pawed through the endless array of
pinks and other pastel bottles, trying to find something that didn't
look too outlandish. She was on the verge of telling Elaine that this
was probably a bad idea when she noted a small bottle at the bottom in
a deep blue-grey. It was probably the best option among the colors
available, and James plucked it out of the bottom of the basket with a
shrug.
"Here." she handed the little container to Elaine without
ceremony.
"Ewww..." Julie recoiled when she saw the bottle. "Booooring."
"I've never used this one." Elaine observed, twisting the top of
the cap and breaking a small plastic seal at the bottom. "Grandma sent
it to me."
That figured. Grandma Abbie had never been very girly, and the
attitude had colored her every gift to Elaine. James momentarily
wondered if her mother had told Grandma about her transformation. There
was something that would probably go over like a lead dirigible.
"So, what do I do now?" James asked, standing there a bit
uncertain.
"Have a seat, and give me your hand." Elaine commanded.
James snickered at the imperialistic tone her little sister had
lapsed into, and took a seat on the couch. Melodramatically, she
extended her right hand with a limp wrist, as if waiting for some
suitor to grab and kiss it. Both of the younger girls giggled at the
affectation.
"Stop it, Maggie!" Elaine laughed, grabbing the extended hand in
one of hers and pulling it down wards. She fished for a moment in the
small bag that Julie had brought, before yanking out an emory board.
"I get the other hand!" Julie squealed, sitting on the floor next
to the couch and grasping James' free hand.
The next few moments were slightly painful. Despite the care that
the two girls took in carefully filing at James' nails, there was
really no way that they could avoid causing some slight pain to her
well worn fingertips. James watched as the boards moved, in the same
direction with one edge, before being flipped and moved in small quick
motions with the other, finer grained side. It was sweet really, of his
sister to do this for her. The sheer amount of concentration on the
younger girls' faces was amazing as they carefully shaped each nail.
With a smile, Elaine finished her hand, and reached for the
polish. Very carefully, she applied the dark color to each of James'
nails in turn, carefully avoiding the skin. When she had finished, she
handed the bottle to Julie who did the exact same thing on the other
hand. After a few more minutes, the process was complete.
"Whaddya think?" Elaine asked, as James curled her fingers to
stare at the nails.
"Uhm, thanks." James said, not really understanding the point.
Yeah, her nails were colored now, but they were just nails. There was
really no point to this, since she would just wear it away on guitar
strings.
"Don't you want us to varnish them?" Julie asked as James got
ready to stand up and leave.
"Uh, oh, sorry." James aborted her motion and extended her hands
to the girls, who began to work once again, this time with a clear
polish.
James was trying to relax, and was doing a pretty good job of it,
when she heard the front door opening. She turned her head, to see
Randall opening it. His expression was one of indifference, which was
about typical. The only time that James had ever seen an emotion on
Randall's face, he was usually laughing at someone.
"Hey, Randall." James called back towards the door. "Yer home
early."
Randall merely grunted at the comment, his gaze taking in the
room. He noted the activity that was currently going on, and a smirk
crossed his features.
"Hey James. Love your nails." Randall spat the taunt at James.
"Thank you." James' response wasn't genuine, but it was the most
mature thought that was running through his mind. He pulled his hands
back from Elaine and Julie, smiling an apology.
"Thanks, I think I'll call it a night." James foremost desire was
to just get out of Randall's sight.
"Notice yer not wearing one of your skirts, Jimmy. Too bad, you
look good in 'em." The tone of Randall's comments were not typical. Had
he been drinking or something, James wondered.
"Whatever." James sighed, walking towards the hallway. She could
feel Randall's eyes on her once again. Her skin crawled as she realized
that she could almost tell exactly what he was thinking. The best
option for her right now was to go to her room and lock the door.
"Isn't mom with you?" Elaine asked Randall in an oblivious tone.
"No. She's still at the restaurant." Randall's tone left no doubt
in James' mind as to what had happened. A fight. Probably a big one, to
judge from the fact that Randall was home early, and alone.
James didn't hear the rest of the conversation, since she was
rapidly moving out of earshot. She ascended the stairs to her room, and
quickly entered, locking the door behind her. She noted with some
dismay exactly how fast her heart was beating. Randall wouldn't have...
James realized that she really didn't know what Randall could
have been capable of, and she had left Elaine and Julie down there to
deal with him. She closed her eyes, trying to decide what to do. If she
went down there right now, she'd be the target of whatever hostility
that Randall might summon. If she didn't Elaine and Julie would be.
Randall liked Elaine. Elaine liked Randall. He would never hurt
her, James kept telling herself. Julie, well, she's fourteen, for
Christ's sake. Randall might be an asshole, but child molestation
wasn't his style. He doesn't see you as a child, James' mind berated
her. With you, if he were out of it enough, he might try something.
Especially after a fight with Anne. Don't go down there.
For the next several hours, James sat right next to the door,
listening in fear. She dreaded the possibility of Randall knocking on
her door, or hearing a scream from downstairs. Every possible nightmare
scenario ran through her head, ranging from the probable, to the truly
outlandish. It was a welcome relief to hear the sounds of Anne's car
pulling in to the driveway around eleven thirty.
Unable to contain her relief, James unlocked her door, and raced
downstairs, moving through the nearly silent house. She guessed that
Randall had gone to bed, and Julie and Elaine as well. She moved to the
front door, flipping on the outside lights as she did so. The sight of
a tired, but smiling Anne walking towards the front door greeted her
eyes.
James opened the door for her tired mother as she breezed into
the house. She smiled at James, dropping her purse on a table near the
front door.
"Were the girls any trouble?" Anne asked casually, as she doffed
her sweater.
"No. Mom, what happened?" James cut to the chase, since direct
questioning seemed to be the best of all possible options.
"I ran into some friends. Randall wasn't having much fun with us,
so he left." Anne's explanation was simple, but it was very obvious to
James that she was leaving out something.
"Mom, uh, he didn't seem too happy when he came home." James
tried, diplomatically. The last thing she needed to do was to anger her
mother.
"Well, it was our anniversary and I suppose I was being a little
selfish." Anne said, equally diplomatic. "Why, did he say something to
you?"
No, but you just did mom, James thought. What Anne wasn't saying
was written across her face in the way that she looked at James. They
had fought, and it had been about her.
"No." James stated. "But I didn't feel very comfortable being
alone in the house with him."
"Maggie," sighed Anne, moving towards the kitchen. "If you don't
feel comfortable being in the same house as a man, maybe..."
"No mom, it's not men that I'm not comfortable with, it's him."
James interrupted her mother with a sharper tone than she expected to
use. "Seriously, have you seen the way he looks at me sometimes?"
"Maggie, you are very beautiful. He's not trying to make you feel
uncomfortable."
"Mom, would you like it if a man stared at your breasts
constantly? Randall does it to me all the time!" James explained. She
would have preferred another time to bring this up, but striking while
the iron was hot seemed appropriate.
"He is NOT staring at your breasts, Maggie." Anne's reply was
tinged with an emotion that James didn't quite get. "He is your step-
father."
"All I can say is thank God I'm leaving next week." James sighed.
"What do you mean by that?" Anne asked, a bit perturbed.
"Nothing." James turned to leave.
"Oh no, you don't get to make a comment like that and just walk
away, Margaret James Fletcher. If you have something to say about
Randall, you can just say it to my face." Anne's voice stopped James in
her tracks. She inhaled deeply before turning and addressing her
mother.
"Fine. Your husband has been looking at me like I was a side of
beef. I don't care if you don't see it, I do. If he so much as touches
me..."
"He wouldn't do that." Anne interrupted her daughter with a
dismissive gesture. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"
"WHAT? NO!" The mere thought of Randall touching her was enough
to make her nauseous. How could her mother think that?
"It's perfectly natural for girls to fall in love with..." Anne
continued, a small smile crossing her face.
"You may be in love with him, but I am NOT, Mother." James
growled. "He has done nothing but mock me since this all began."
"And you think that it's cute, don't you?" Anne's confident smile
infuriated James. "I bet you even had that Vee Ess bag out on purpose,
that one time."
"What, is that what he told you?"
"No, but he and I both suspect that you've been coming on to him
a little." So that had been what the argument had been about. James'
stomach roiled at the thought of flirting with Randall.
"Mother, that is thirty one flavors of disgusting."
"Do you want to sit down and talk about the feelings that you're
having?" Anne's voice had taken on a condescending tone.
"I give up. You don't see it, or you won't see it, Mom. I'm
tired, and I'm going to bed."
"You're just confused, Maggie." Anne finished as James stalked
away. She was infuriated that her mother could look at the situation
and see it from the completely wrong angle.
There was a lesson here, somewhere.
Mila
- 27.05.2022
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