A Model Child 2 free porn video

A Model Child By Jena Corso Edited By Angela Meyers Chapter Two As Raymond headed off to school, his mother got ready for work and then headed off to her office on the final day before the show. She had barely slept, worried about finding a model and even worse now, worried about her son's intentions to help. As she got into the office, she headed right down to her studio to walk through her collection again and begin the process of final alterations. As she began the process of re-hemming the first dress, she began dialing any contacts that she couldn't connect with the night before while sewing as she spoke freely on a speaker phone. It would be a long taxing day of both large and small adjustments to various versions of the same outfits, as she bounced a few last minute ideas off other seamstresses and provided critiques to their own designs when asked. Collaboration would be paramount in the studio, yet mostly she debated with herself as she compared versions of her designs against one another. With everyone focused on their own last minute updates, people buzzed in and out without much help to one another, as the smallest change would sometimes invoke a landslide of ideas. It was getting late in the day and even the perfectionist in her was in need of a break, yet her fingers pressed on, dialing as fast as they seem to sew. When she almost lost all hope for the possibility of finding a model, she checked her voicemail, having received a detailed message from one of the first contacts she reached out to the previous night and the message from the call that was returned a few hours ago had her screaming with joy. Out of her studio she ran, scurrying down the hall and then spotting Miss Opal in a serious conversation as she hurried over. "Betsy, I'm sorry, but I need you the second you're done." Veronica softly touched her arm, interrupting. "I'll need a minute and I know all about it," said Betsy, giving her a look. "Why don't you get back to your work and I'll be down the moment I'm finished here." "Ok please, because there are a few loose ends to be tied up quickly," said Veronica. "Thank you, Miss McDermott," nodded Miss Opal, turning back to her conversation. She hurried back to her studio, anxiously awaiting her boss and then texted her son to call off his makeover. When he didn't answer, she texted again and then again before getting anxious and walking back into the hall, staring down at her boss. Like she was grandparent awaiting the birth of a child, she paced back and forth in the hallway and the moment she saw Miss Opal bow out of the conversation, raced down the hall to grab her attention. "Veronica, relax before you have a heart attack," joked Miss Opal. "I told you I'd be there as soon as I could." "I know, but I also know how easily you can be dragged into unforeseen things," said Veronica. "And time is of the essence here." "Well it is, but it isn't," said Miss Opal. "No, it is!" said Veronica, all excited. "Claudia Schiffer called me. I left her a voicemail last night and she left me one today. Her daughter is available! Do you believe that! I mean I've never met the kid, but I don't even have to in order to imagine she's beautiful! I'm sure she wouldn't send me her if she wasn't, and she's fifteen, 5"10" and a stick figure! I can work with all that, and if she comes from that family you know she's a gem." "Well I myself have seen her in person last year, and she would be perfect, but she's expensive so you won't need her," replied Betsy matter of factly. "No, I do need her and how much more could she be!" said Veronica, getting angry. "Now is not the time to get cheap on me Betsy, and if she wants a little more, pay her." "Veronica, I must tell you..." Betsy started to say before being interrupted. "No I'm telling you I want her, and fuck it! I'll pay the difference!" said Veronica, getting animated. "What does she want, maybe a grand over scale plus expenses? Take it out of my commissions, I don't care! I need her." "You don't, and I've already nixed it," said Betsy calmly. "Claudia called me as well with the offer, but I politely declined." "You nixed it?" said Veronica, putting her hands on her hips. "You declined!" "Yes, I told Claudia personally not long ago on the phone, thank you anyway but all the last minute panic and scrambling to get her here won't be necessary," said Betsy, staring directly into her eyes. "And you know damn well I've never been cheap with you, but I've filled the role." "Oh?" said Veronica, calming down. "You know I've been losing my mind about this. When were you going to tell me?" "I am telling you," said Miss Opal. "Fine, then when am I getting her in my studio, and why the hell is Ray not texting me back," said Veronica, texting on her phone again, all frustrated. "He's probably under some stupid cape nowhere near his phone and gawwd knows how worried he must be with them trying to paint him up like something he's not. Now if I go down there like a crazed mother they are going to want to kill me, so can you at least call down there and have them stop and send him to me, because he's probably been there like an hour and a half already if they took him in right after school!" "Number one Veronica, calm down, and let's go meet your model," said Betsy, shaking her head and taking her by the arm. "And number two, he's not down there anymore." "Oh good, but then why the hell isn't he answering," Veronica asked, checking her phone again as they walked. "Maybe he's washing up so he won't freak out if I see him made up and is that my....." "Model?" said Betsy as they walked down the hall. "Waiting patiently reading on the ipad just outside your studio, yes." "In an outfit I haven't shown anyone yet?" said Veronica, grabbing Betsy's arm. "So I've noticed, and it's fabulous, dear," replied Miss Opal. "That was in my home studio," thought Veronica confused. "Until your son brought it to wear for us. Yes," smiled Betsy. "Who I believe you may have walked right by twice now coming out here to harass me." "Oh my gawwdddd," yelled Veronica, feeling weak in the knees as Ray picked up his head from reading and making eye contact as suddenly she lost a grip on her Starbucks cup as it hit the floor. "No fucking way?" "Vulgar? But that is quite the reaction I had as well! Get maintenance over here!" smiled Betsy, snapping her fingers and then rubbing Veronica's back. "But you know how good our hair and makeup team is, so I think you now can see why canceling the Schiffer kid was an easy decision." "No, I cannot," Veronica sighed, not even caring if it splattered on her legs. "And that can't be my baby. It can't." Never had he seen his mother move so fast, as she hopped over the spill and sprinted down the hall. She stopped within five feet of him, as her eyes drilled up and down at him, still quite startled before she covered her nose and mouth. "Huh," His mother was in shock, wiping a tear from each eye, barely able to breath as her hands shivered while they masked her mouth and nose. "Well I thought I looked a little better than that, mom." Ray placed down the ipad. "But I know this all takes some getting used to." "Getting used to?" sighed his mother, practically tackling him as she hugged him in tears. "Are you fucking kidding me, Ray!" She was sobbing like a baby as he rubbed her back, calming her down and then she pulled back, needing to inspect every inch of him. When Miss Opal had instructed him to bring something to wear for meetings after they made him up, he had taken the liberty of unknowingly swiping her latest design from the house. After stopping home quickly after school, he found something that matched the criteria she gave him and was now standing toe to toe with his mother, making his female debut in the outfit intended for the future for Heidi. Heidi he was not though, yet he had been transformed to look every inch a young Cosmo woman in the latest fashion. Around his waist was a tight wrap mini skirt cut from smooth black leather with a shorter side stichlessly hemmed across his upper left calf, and a slightly longer angled wrap still well above his right knee. Above the skirt, a canary colored one shoulder blouse had a long sleeve only on the right and a single peplum ruffle accentuating his thin waist. Beneath it a square cut padded push up bra enabled him to display small bumps of a A-cup shape, and a minor hint of cleavage through the thin vertical cut out. On his feet, burgundy toenails shone inside the straps of Burmese python criss crossed, Christian Louboutin stilettos, as he balanced while his mother looked down at his feet. He squeezed her hand now, feeling the pressure against his long nail tips, as long pointy white-out ivory colored almond shaped nails glistened from a coating of silver glitter, entombed beneath a clear top coat as he let go, stepping back as she looked up into his eyes. "Tell me I'm dreaming, Ray," said his mother, moving his face around. "I was texting you all day and now I know why you didn't answer me." "Sorry mom, I would have answered, but my phone is on vibrate in my purse," said Ray. "I'm kind of not used to that." "I'm not used to any of this?" said his mother, holding her head. "My goodness! Look at you honey! I know they're talented down there, but how did they do all this that fast?" "Mom, they are amazing, but it's after six o'clock," squinted Ray. "We took our time to get this right for you." "If you came right after school," thought his mother, turning white as a ghost. "Are you saying you've been here like three hours?" "Almost four, and you look tired, mom," said Ray, touching her temple gently. "I knew this wouldn't be easy, but I wanted to do whatever we need to, right! Have you even eaten today." "I'm not at all hungry," replied his mother, looking up at him, moving his face around as she touched it and then noticed his lips. "Oh my gawwdddd! Your lips! Your teeth." "It's just a little Juvererm and some porcelain veneers," said Betsy, joining them. "Just some minor temporary touches with a big impact, but this should be nothing new to you, Veronica." "Nothing new for some, but not for my son," said Veronica, trying to get grip on things and then touching his hair. "And this doesn't feel like a wig! Oh my gawwddd! Are you crazy, Raymond?" "Raymond is crazy, but last I saw of him he was borrowing your latest design for your model," said Betsy, pulling him back. "So without further ado, I'd like to introduce you to the young lady that allowed us to turn away a Schiffer girl. Mrs. McDermott, meet your catwalk star for this weekend, the lovely Miss Ramona Rinkovic." "I think I need to sit down," his mother said as he quickly pulled over a folding chair. "You ok, mom?" Ray asked, fanning her. "Breathe." "Ramona Rinkovic," sighed his mother, looking faint. "Well, you can still call me Ray for short mom," said Ray. "But it's catchy, right?" "But Ray like R-A-E," said Betsy. "That would be the female abbreviation." "That's what they'll be announcing," said his mother, staring at him. "When I model your stuff, yes," said Ray. "Miss Opal suggested I pick a stage name, since obviously mine would be an issue, and I thought you might like me using your maiden name. I think it goes with my first name, don't you?" "I don't know whether to be proud or to just throw up," said his mother, staring at him. "But you damn well look like a Rinkvoc girl now Ramona, and if I wasn't stuck with people knowing my married name all these years after your father left, I would be have been proudly using it myself." "Not as proud as I am to finally be using the name of the only person that matters in my life," smiled Ray, putting his hands on his hips. "So now that all introductions and waterworks are hopefully behind us, how do I look, mother? Because really, you haven't told me?" She knew full well he fit perfectly in her designs, but now seeing him made up like an actual model posing in her clothes sent her head spinning. Black thick liner would raccoon around his blue eyes, and monstrous faux top lashes would almost cause a minor wind storm with him blinking nervously. Above them, a bronze shimmer at the inner crease would turn to copper serving as the focal color, delivering a metallic glow. Hints of white silver from the inner edges near his nose would become lighter near the bridge before flowing under the thicker inner edges of his reshaped brows. His mother couldn't help but reach up, touching the dramatic shape change as his high arched brows would send her index finger into a shiver as she couldn't stop herself from sliding it across what was left of them. As he pulled away her hand, the gleam from his high polished cheek bones would be enough to reflect the corridor light as she softly slid the back of her finger across his plum blush, realizing how beautifully the contouring work had elongated his oval face. A loving small smirk as he looked back into her eyes would cement that his teeth had never looked so pearl white before he squeezed her fingers, taking her hand from his face. The enormous smile showing off the porcelain teeth he'd never before possessed would now flash momentarily before he closed his mouth, trying to downplay the severe change. That though would be almost impossible as his injected, plumped full lips would certainly not be able to be toned down even without a high gloss finish, as they sat bloated inside burgundy penciled outline, and filled in with a cranberry colored matte lip stain. With his tall thin frame also came a long neck that he inherited from the father that abandoned them, yet luckily those genetics did not produce a visible Adam's apple. Instead though, the long wind shaft supporting his cosmetically altered pretty face would serve as the perfect headstand for a chic, yet edgy haircut. He had normally worn his brown hair from a middle part tucked behind his ears and sitting just on his shoulder blades or even in a low pony, but quickly that certainly would not cut it for a high fashion model. Instead, he had allowed the stylists the complete freedom to transform him into the posh girl his mother desired originally for her collection, as his hair had been radically cut and meticulously colored. His new look now featured a combination of his colorists bold bleaching and eye catching hennas atop the expertly sheared shape meant for the courageous role to turn heads and for him to garner attention. "How do you look?" gulped his mother. "You're really asking me that?" "Of course," said Ray. "It's all I've been worried about all day." "Ohhh honey!.... Like the girl I never even dreamed about having," sighed his mother, reaching up and touching his hair. "Holy shit Rae... uumm Ramona. I don't know a damn thing about having a daughter, and look at your hair. You didn't have to go this far for me, sweetheart!" She'd already been thrown for quite the loop today, but needed another second to fathom the work done on his hair. It was an artistic takeoff, based on some of her sketches and magazine clippings of hairdos she had previously discussed with the stylists that she thought would complement her collection, that shockingly now sat sheared and dyed atop his head. She pulled back her fingers, swallowing hard, knowing he'd blindly embraced without hesitation the imaginative style. Whether too generous or maybe too overly creative would be judged by others though, yet she swallowed hard, knowing she had unknowingly condemned her son into a style that even most models wouldn't have allowed without major reservations, or certainly a heavy monetary bonus. From a right side part, long tips still spanned way down to his collar bones in front, yet angled back rapidly into a sheik, bob like cut. No longer in the back did it touch his collar, yet instead of any layering for a stacked appearance, color had been used to send an edgy message above a square neckline cut. With the non-parted left side looking longer in length than the parted right side, it was hard to see if the long tips were purposely different, or if illusion was at work. Maybe it wasn't the cut though that deceived the eye, as gone was his medium brunette color, replaced by a vibrant cranberry red base covering most of his head. Hints of violet though would serve to even further highlight the red hues, but the final three or four inches of length dyed a platinum blonde would serve to electrify it. "What's too far?" smiled Ray, fluffing the back of his hair. "I needed a haircut, and you told me I should get it off my collar anyway." "And color it!!" gulped his mother. "And get a second and third piercing in each ear! None of that did I ever mention!" "No, and like I ever thought I'd be a model?" smiled Ray, taking her left hand. "But here we are mom and I'm ready." "Oh Rae," sighed his mother, reaching up and taking his other hand. "I guess you're as ready as you could be, but that doesn't mean I want you to be." "And that still doesn't change that I am, mom." "Oh gawwddd," moaned his mother, staring at his fingers. "And look at your nails. Those are gel, aren't they?" "I would think so, and I hate to be the one to break up the nostalgia, but we'll need you two to drop the mother daughter stuff and focus," said Miss Opal, stepping between them now. "Ramona's here to work, not your daughter, so now that we're past all the freaking and crying, she's got a model's meet and greet in ten minutes, and you'll need to be ready to dress her for the cocktail party in two hours. So can we get back to the job at hand ladies, because these things tend to creep up on us fast?" "Sure," nodded Ray. "Anything you want, Miss Opal." "Thank you, Ramona," smiled Betsy. "Now if I can get my other models to share that attitude, we're all going to have a fabulous show, and make a ton of money." "You damn well know half the divas you hired won't, so if you're smart, how about we agree Ramona could sneak in showing off another creation or two I haven't shown you yet?" said Veronica, turning towards Betsy. "You know I can't do that? The other seamstresses are owed their time as well on the catwalk?" said Betsy before pausing. "But are you holding back a few fabulous designs on me Veronica? Better than what you've shown me?" "Maybe, and you know you've done it before?" nodded Veronica, studying Ray. "And maybe I'm pissed that you cut my son's gorgeous hair that he's been growing for two years. Maybe I'm pissed that you freaking injected his lips and pierced his ears without my permission. Maybe I'm so pissed that I'm even more motivated than ever, so if he's pulled out all the fucking stops for me, then maybe I'm pulling out a few things of my own." "You know he's eighteen, so we did nothing without adult consent but..." Miss Opal began to say. "But I told them they could, mom," said Ray. "In fact I told them not to hold back." "Yeah, and they didn't! Sure, I had some radical hair designs in my show for Heidi, which was a point of contention with that bitch but you didn't need to go this far," lectured his mother. "I know how you loved that ponytail, and we could have just used more wigs, Rae." "Mom, if I need to cut my hair even shorter or wear extensions or wear wigs, then I will," said Ray. "I don't care, and I'm all in for whatever it takes. Now come on, I know you think I look pretty good since you want me to wear even more outfits now, but I still haven't heard you say it?" "Say what?" smiled his mother, calming down. "You know?" Ray twisted his hips. "You want me to say you look beautiful?" Grinned his mother. "Is that what you need to hear? Seriously? You think that's easy to say when I know who's under there?" "I'm sure it's not," replied Ray. "But I want you to be happy with your model. I want her to rock your world." "Oh she did already," his mother replied sarcastically. "And she's the most beautiful model I've ever had." "Ok thank you, but you didn't have to go over the top with the compliment," joked Ray, tossing up his hands and picking at the end of his hair. "Because I'm only a little bit blonde, and that part I know is bullshit." "It's not and ..." Veronica started to say. "And whatever?" Ray smirked as he gave her some attitude. "Now I've been studying every step, every procedure, every change and anything I need to do since the moment I got here while they made me up. Plus every outfit and every look is engrained in my head, so stop worrying. I'm your girl. I got this." "I know you do," nodded his mother. "And maybe I hate it, but you look drop dead gorgeous, Miss Rinkovic. Unbelievably stunning, honestly my girl." "And if I didn't think she wasn't, do you think she'd be in those Louboutin's with your outfit, Veronica," said Miss Opal, stopping them. "As it is, a few of our experienced girls can't handle them like Ramona already does, and I'll be catching some shit for letting the new girl debut those." "Like you can't handle that?" said Veronica, rolling her eyes at her. "And excuse me Betsy, and Miss Ramona for still being a mother! I'm just beyond disgusted and astounded both at the same time." "Well that will pass, but I suggest you get over it quickly Veronica, because we must get down to business," said Miss Opal, turning to Ray. "Now please go down to the meeting in conference room C and check in. You know the agenda as well as I do Ramona, and remember what we talked about, so time to move that pretty little ass of yours, please." "Yes, Miss Opal. Blend in humbly as one of the girls and stand out as one of the models," nodded Ray, before softly hugging his mother and air kissing her cheeks. "I've got it entrenched in my head, so don't worry, I'll be fine mom." "I guess you will," said his mother, miffed and shaking her head. "So feminine already, and you learned that too?" "Been studying and practicing for hours," said Ray, pointing to his brain and then flicking his wrist. "Hand gestures, movements, and don't ruin yours or anyone else's makeup! Love you." After a wink, he turned, taking a breath and composing himself before tugging down on his skirt and walking away down the hall. His mother watched until he turned down a corridor as she lost sight of her feminized son, and then Betsy gently rubbed her back. "She's a quick learner. She will be ok," said Betsy, comforting her. "I know this has already been difficult on you, but I wouldn't have allowed it if I didn't think it would work for you." "You mean for you?" said Veronica, turning towards her, still upset. "Because watching my son's ass wiggling down the hall in my designs might be working for you, but it is certainly not working for me." "As a mother I imagine I can understand that," smiled Betsy, pulling her hand away. "But think about this? Christian himself will be here later for a meeting with the girls in an hour, and those shoes she's in are from his new collection. Trust me, the way she looks already in your designs he'll be sure to take notice of her in more than just his shoes, so you can thank me later." "If by thanks you'll accept the chunks of vomit I'll be hurling on the Louboutin's on your feet too, then sure," said Veronica, turning away. "Now let me just get back to work, because your way of cheering me up is only making it worse." "Oh Veronica?" Mumbled Betsy as Veronica walked away. "Let's hope for both our sakes your daughter is as dramatic tomorrow as you are." Veronica slammed her studio door, needing to get away from her boss, needing a moment to sit and gather herself. As much as she needed her model to be on point and draw attention to her collection, this was never the way she wanted it. What she wanted or didn't want would no longer matter now as she knew this was happening and no matter what, really needed this to be a success. The good news was she knew how to size him like the back of her hand, having made tons of his male clothes over the years, and knew just how to accentuate him. After two hours, he returned from the meetings with a big smile on his face and both arms filled with shopping bags. "So I can only assume everything went well, or my phone would have been ringing off the hook," asked his mother, working as he came in. "I think they like Ramona, mom?" smiled Ray, lifting the bags up. "Look at all this stuff they gave me, and the other models were really nice." "Honey, to your face they always are, but this is a business and guaranteed they know you're a temp," laughed his mother. "You mean they know I'm your son?" Ray asked. "Because they didn't say anything?" "Well probably most don't know that, but they do know you're a last second fill in for Heidi," said his mother. "Well actually most of them hated her. She was a stuck up bitch." "But I'm not," laughed Ray. "Which is why I made some friends. Heather, Janice, Erica! They're amazing, and at least I'll have someone to hang out with at the pre-party." "I guess that's ok, but you'll need to be careful there," his mother warned. "It's a networking event like nothing you've ever done, so really you just..." "Just smile, be polite and then walk away," interrupted Ray. "That much I think I can handle." "I guess you did pay attention to Betsy then?" His mother smiled. "I did, and I think I'll be fine, but it's the other parts I'm really nervous about," nodded Ray. "Modeling your stuff for you mom I'm feeling fine about, but making conversation as a girl? Not so much?" "So I guess you just sat there and didn't say much in the meetings?" His mother asked. "Not really much no, except with the girls afterwards," smiled Ray. "Mostly I learned that for the party to let others do the talking, just look pretty and then don't drink too much." "Right again honey, except for the drinking part," grinned his mother. "I know you're eighteen now, so you sneak some beers, but you're still not twenty one and this is a business event, so I'd rather you didn't drink at all." "Not even champagne?" Ray asked. "They were telling me all about these champagne toasts they do, and included me with that mom" . "Ok, a little champagne is ok," his mother agreed before pointing. "But just a little! Deal?" "Of course," nodded Ray. "Ok, and give me all that stuff," said his mother, taking the bags. "We seamstresses don't get the samples, and why would you need perfume, jewelry and certainly not lingerie?" "Yeah.. no," laughed Ray, seeing her dig through it. "But the Louboutins are my size, so those will not fit you. And he loved my outfit, and obviously your designs by the way." "Well one can only hope he'll spread the word, but in the meantime, go down to Pierre and then I'll meet you there in thirty minutes," said his mother, putting on a bracelet from the bag and loving it on herself. "He'll put your hair up and touch you up, then I'll dress you." Downstairs he headed with butterflies in his stomach now, as he was about to make his debut at the pre-party. Into the hair and makeup room he went exactly on schedule, as Pierre was pleased with his prompt arrival, pointing to his chair. "I love punctual girls Ramona, so sit right down, darling," smiled Pierre, seating him and wrapping a cape around his neck. "So I hear so far so good, young lady?" "Shockingly, yes," said Ray as Pierre began brushing his hair. "But I haven't really done much besides sit in some meetings and give my mother a heart attack." "Oh I imagine she is not much too pleased with us down here right now," laughed Pierre, brushing some hair into Ray's eyes as he sectioned it off. "She's a tough cookie at times, your mother." "Really, she was just shocked," laughed Ray as Pierre gathered the rest of his hair in his hand and created a top pony. "And who wouldn't be? You turned me into something I could have never imagined." "Well I remember her bringing you into the studio for the first time when you were just a cute little toddler, and how could any of us imagine we'd be making you so fabulous?" laughed Pierre, gelling it down. "But time flies, and you were always an adorable kid." "It does," nodded Ray, feeling him slick the back. "You've known my mother that long?" "Since she was decorating bedrooms and dressing bratty little girls before she became this creative designer dress art-tist," joked Pierre, spraying a little. "She's come a long way your mother, and it seems now so have you." "Well?" said Ray, looking up at him. "You know it's not exactly like that?" "You sure? Now hold these and sit back, because really we've only just begun, darling!" giggled Pierre, handing him some colored foam pieces. "I think you're going to dazzle in what's she's putting you into tonight! It's gorgeous!" "I guess that's always the intention." Ray cringed as Pierre was winding in a thin band. "Of course it is with her, but especially with her with her models! She's a perfectionist!" said Pierre, tugging hard on the mini top pony. "And me as well when I match the hair and makeup to her creations! You know it, girl!" "I guess I do after today," laughed Ray as Pierre took the large red sponge and tugged tightly, slipping his pony through the middle donut like slit. "Oouuchhh!" "Sorry, fabulous does not come without effort," joked Pierre, combing his hair down in every direction to cover the large red sponge. "Obviously not," giggled Ray as Pierre stretched another clear band over the top of the mushroomed section, securing all his hair against the sponge. "But that is tight." "Oh come on." Pierre playfully slapped Ray's shoulder as he began sliding some under the sponge, fastening it tightly in place. "I thought boys were tougher than that?" "Me too, but obviously not," laughed Ray, as pin after pin were being pushed under in every direction. "I'm thinking having to walk all day in shoes like this with nails this long that boys should only know how tough this is." "So after your firsthand experience, I guess you're going to have to be the one to tell them," joked Pierre, taking the next smaller beige sponge from Ray and then pinning it atop his newly created large bun. "Yeah?.. but no," smiled Ray, seeing Pierre brush through a thick platinum hair extension. "If I don't want to get my ass kicked in school, I certainly am not." "Good call," teased Pierre, snapping the end under the sponge and then brushing all the hair around the sponge. "You're much too pretty, and I'd rather not have to cover bruises or black eyes next time I do your makeup." "Not going to be a problem," giggled Ray as the next clear band was stretched over the platinum locks, securing it tightly before he began tucking the ends underneath. "These lips are sealed." "We'll see if that's still the case after some of the gorgeous young fellas see you there tonight," said Pierre, taking a third slightly smaller red sponge now from Ray. "Not going to be an issue," said Ray, turning his head and looking at Pierre dead in the face. "I'm here for my mom, and this is all business." "Aren't you a feisty one?" smirked Pierre, twisting his face gently back into position, pinning on the third sponge. "Now don't get your panties in a ruffle, Miss Ramona, but so are they!" "You talking about the business of meeting models?" Ray asked as he watched him brush out an ice blue colored extension. "That I'll be avoiding, and not on my agenda." "Meeting, dating, hooking up and whatever rocks your boat, honey! Those are some of the perks of the business darling, and it will be unavoidable if you intend to help your mother's collection be successful," lectured Pierre, attaching it under the third sponge and brushing it over the little bump. "Ramona being seen with hunky celebrities sells fashion, and that is the business you're now in." "Please don't take this the wrong way if you are, and it's none of my business," cringed Ray, trying to be polite as he stretched open the band and secured his hair. "But I'm not gay, Pierre." "You're so sweet, so no insult taken darling, but no one that's interested in you for more than fashion this evening will be either," laughed Pierre, adding some pins. "This is a pre-event social, so spending a little time while being snapped by some photographers at an incredible party will be a huge benefit to your mother if you're seen with the right gorgeous young heartthrob." "Ooooohhhhh," gulped Ray, now understanding as Pierre covered his eyes, drowning him in hairspray and now using a comb, brushing through the glued down sections against his scalp. "Exactly." Pierre was now flat ironing some thin long strands of red hair. "So flirting does not make you gay, and if that still makes you uneasy, then you're already in the wrong business, Ramona." "So I'll need to flirt?" Ray asked, feeling sick as Pierre wrapped one on beneath the first bun and pinned it in place. "Flirt with famous guys?" "Probably not at first, because the vultures will be ready to pounce on you without doing much," Pierre replied before wrapping a blonde strand between the bottom and middle bun. "But the flirting will be quite handy once you've meet a few of the men that can influence some prominent buyers or even general consumers." "And how do I even know which vultures those are?" said Ray as he was pinning it in place. "Oh trust me, you will," laughed Pierre, taking the final ice blue strand and wrapping it on. "It'll be the ones whose faces you recognize. People that have others following them around kissing their ass or wanting to suck their dicks. Those are the guys that are worth doing more than batting an eyelash at, honey." "Oh gawwdddd," gulped Ray, as Pierre again sprayed on top now. "And I thought the catwalk was the hardest part." "The way you'll look when I'm done with you in a few minutes," said Pierre, pulling the long strand he left hanging in front now and brushing through it. "Trust me, it will be." Ray closed his eyes, no longer wanting to think about what it would be like to have to flirt or be hit on as he needed a break from thinking about what he might soon be faced with. He just sat there now as in front Pierre stretched the entire long strand as one and then glided through it with a thin flat iron. A quick first pass re-straightened the entire length before a second pass stopped clamping down just above his right cheek bone. Pierre would quickly flip his wrist now towards Ray's forehead before allowing the section some time to bake as he manipulated the remaining three quarters of the length inside the sizzling hair tool. When he was satisfied it had taken the shape he was after, he squeezed the handle, catching the thick unraveling curl in the palm of his left hand before quickly clipping it to his hairline, twirled up like a donut with a silver hinge pin. Back to Ray's makeup he went, adding some new color to his eyeshadow as he dipped his applicator into a wintery palette of soft blues, white and silvers, as again Ray's eyes were closed. It would be brief yet soft and soothing, as Pierre embellished his prior work on his eyes before adding to his cheeks, as in came his mother with a dress. He looked over without moving his face as Pierre took a pencil to his lips as he just sat there, knowing not to flinch. "I may be sick about what you've done to him today, but that's going to be spectacular with this dress," smiled Veronica, coming over. "Like it isn't always?" joked Pierre, blotting under his eyes. "And I believe you mean proud of how she's turned out." "And thankful," said Veronica, coming over and touching Pierre's back gently and then leaning her head against his. "Very thankful, because I'm a nervous wreck you know." "That I did know, even before I made her up," laughed Pierre, pulling off the cape and stepping back. "Ok all yours Veronica, so stand please, Ramona." Ray stood up as instantly his mother was at work, helping him out of his shoes and then dropping down his skirt. He would soon be standing in nothing more than his underwear as she slid his arm from it's single sleeve and then gingerly pulled off his top. His single shoulder bra would quickly now be exchanged for one in a strapless, half bustier in powder blue as she began snapping up a series of metal hooks on his spine. Having his mother next pull down his panties with both hands and then having him step into a powder blue satin, hip cut panty with a series of small ruffles would be almost worse than having Pierre observe the exchange. Really though, there would be nothing to see with him taped and tucked beneath them, as he knew any humility he previously had would certainly need to be swallowed. Up next would come nude thigh high hose with a silver tint to them, and a tight elastic that held them firmly up near his crotch. Into platform sandals now went his feet, as the shoeless design consisted of only dusty repressed white laces criss crossing at his toe line before being looped around his ankles. A one inch metallic platform that fronted a silver 5 inch stiletto heel would make them no easy task for navigation, as he held Pierre's shoulder until they were secured on his feet. "You know now that you have the right model, Veronica. I'm thinking Betsy would love it if you'd make a few things she could pitch to Victoria's Secret for their fall show," joked Pierre, as Veronica buckled the shoes. "I could help enhance what she lacks, and if not we both know exactly where to send her for some augmentation." "Do not even joke like that," said Veronica, standing up and looking at him. "Fine, but she does look amazing, and if you don't laugh then you'll stress us all out so...." teased Pierre. "I know," smiled Veronica, stepping back, yet twisting her neck and giving him a look. "And rather not go down the lingerie path, but I did make a few sample swimsuits, and they'd look cute on him now." "Mom? Weren't you joking about that before?" Ray said anxiously as she was taking the dress from its hanger and unzipping the back. "You're not saying..." "It's a joke sweetie, and I am not," laughed his mother, walking over to him with it. "Swimsuits and lingerie are not my thing, and if they were, you've have been trying them on for me at home for years right?" "I guess," Ray turned beet red as his mother crouched down, tapping his ankle. It was like she had broadcast to Pierre that he'd been in her dresses his entire life, as he stepped into the custom altered cocktail dress that would send a shiver down his spine, as up came her fabulous design. It was a dress that would make the average girl stick her finger down her throat to empty her stomach, wishing she could drop ten pounds in an instant, as it was made for only the slenderest of women. His skinny, almost curveless frame though would fit it perfectly, as it was cautiously zipped and then clasped twice with two little hidden eyelet hooks below his shoulder blades. As he felt her fingers leave his back, he looked down, ready or not to be revealed to the world outside of the studio now, as Ramona was enclosed by a size zero dress that would make every man take notice. "Oh you did not disappoint this year, did you Veronica?" said Pierre, staring at Ray. "Like I ever do?" said Veronica, circling him and adjusting the flowing skirt and then turning away. "Ice her up, and let me leave before I lose it. I'm sorry honey, but I have to go." "Mom?" said Ray, surprised, seeing goosebumps down his arms. "Where are you going, and ice me what? I'm freezing already in this?" "It's just jitters, and it'll pass. In fact, you've already passed with flying colors, but you know that already," said his mother, blowing him a kiss and then turning her back, hurrying from the room spouting out to him. "I love you, and I have to get ready myself now. I'll see you out there." "She just means your jewelry, honey and she's a bit emotional," said Pierre, looping some big earring into his lobes. "I guess I can understand that," replied Ray, feeling their obvious weight reverberate off his jaw as he shook his head. "And I'm fine! I can handle whatever I need to." "You're better than fine, so why do you think she's so emotional?" said Pierre, softly sliding his finger across his right forearm before fastening the clasp of a bracelet over his right wrist. "She knows you can too, so don't worry, she'll be fine as well and the goosebumps will fade." "Well if not, they'll match the bumps that you added to my hair," joked Ray, hugging Pierre. "Thanks for everything, and I got this now." "I know you do," said Pierre, hugging him back. "Mingle, smile, be confident, flash some attitude and go sell yourself." "I'll try." Ray took a deep breath as Pierre handed him his purse. "No, you fucking will young lady, and you're gorgeous, Ramona," said Pierre, staring him dead in the face and squeezing his hands. "Now I loaded your purse with your phone and some stuff for touch up, but don't you dare forget to let the diva out that's trapped inside you! Trust me, that sexy bitch will sell many dresses, girlfriend." "Damn fucking right she will!" winked Ray, letting go and then walking over and pulling open the door. "Hopefully a lot of dresses."