The Gamer Chapter 1308 – Fusion Festival 15 – Getting her offline (Patreon)

“You know we keep the kinky shit for outside of dates, yeah?” Scarlett asked.

It was a justified question, considering John was currently guiding her around with a blindfold on. While the previous date was testament to the fact that sex was not entirely unheard of during dates, it was right that they usually kept these private times fuck-free. Only if the erotic activity was unusual in scale or how John/one of his girls was otherwise tended to, was it worthy of interfering with time that should be dedicated to amore.

The blindfold, therefore, was about Scarlett not knowing where they were heading. More difficult than putting a cloth over her eyes had been to make sure there were no cameras in the area. He had all of them uninstalled in advance. “Don’t worry, this is entirely romantic.”

“I don’t need your romance.”

“Then why did you even agree to the date, hm?” The question got no proper response, as she had none. ‘So predictable,’ John thought. Not something one could typically say about Scarlett, but he was the only man in the entire world that had this relationship with her. “Plus, you’re wearing heels.”

“That has nothing to do with anything!” This statement, John could not agree to. Scarlett had professed previously that she was urging to be more feminine since they started their relationship. An instinct that was beyond flattering. Sheltered as she had been, she had not seen any reason to be girly, especially not with her utilitarian mindset.

Being in love changed a person. John would know. After meeting Rave, he had the definitive urge to prove himself as more masculine. Primarily that manifested as being more assertive and confident. That had, given the circumstances of his entry in the Abyss, been necessary with or without her. Still, her presence was an accelerating factor to him getting his act together.

For this day, Scarlett had put on high heels, yoga pants, and a red blouse that just looked adorable on her. The combination of the cute top and stretched out bottom really did the best to present her flat chest and bubble butt. Arguably, the least feminine part about her was her face. The short, crimson red hair only reached her chin and hid her right eye. Her gorgeous features were only heightened in their androgyny by that framing.

Which brought John to what he wanted to do with her today.

“Alright, we’re here,” John said and pulled at the knot at the back of the blindfold. It opened smoothly, letting John pull aside the obstructing piece of cloth. To Scarlett was revealed a large, comfortable chair, positioned in front of a large mirror with three segments.  Next to it all was a stand with various hairstyling utensils.

It was the kind of chair one would expect to find in a hairdresser shop. Two more were right next to it, together filling up the entirety of that wall. There were a couple of other, styling related utensils around the room. John wouldn’t need any of them. Firmly, he pushed the confused Scarlett towards the chair.

“The fuck is this about?” she asked, when he had already seated her. “I don’t need a haircut! I’ve been using the same length-maintaining shampoo as the other cum addicts.”

“You’re not getting a haircut, you’re getting a hair lengthening,” John told her and grabbed a comb. The Abyss granted access to numerous interesting services and tools. Combs that stimulated hair growth to visible levels with each stroke were among the more innocent ones. Especially since they came out of the Apothecary laboratories.

“I don’t fucking need that either!” Scarlett declared, moving forwards in the chair as if she was about to get-up, without actually rising.

“Well, need is a strong word.” John pulled a stool up behind her. Before he began, he massaged her shoulders and explained himself, “I think you want it and that you would never admit out loud that you want it. So, I am putting you on the spot. If you’re really against the idea, we can just move right on. Otherwise, I can get your hair nice and long.”

“Since when are you qualified as a hairdresser?” Scarlett totally pivoted.

“I had Lydia show me the ropes. I think I can do some uniform lengthening and emergency tip-cutting.” He kept working her shoulders. When she stayed quiet for a little while, he decided to encourage her a little more. “I love it that you make all these little and large efforts for me. I notice that you take care of your nails, that you walk with a bit more of a swing, that you wear heels, and obviously that you put on dresses and such when we head out together.” He kissed the back of her head. “I think you would look really good with long hair.”

“I hate you.”

“Momo said the same thing earlier.” John chuckled.

“She usually knows what she’s talking about.”

“Does she?” the Gamer sounded incredibly doubtful. “Does she really? Well, I guess she knows what she is talking about, she just decides to say the opposite. Anyway, you’re dodging the question.” He gently scratched the back of Scarlett’s head. “Whatever you do, you will still be my badass, borderline alcoholic technomancer. Being more feminine doesn’t make you any less dangerous.”

“…Fuck it, might as well give you more to pull when we get kinky.”

John hugged her from behind. “Come on, Scarlett, we both know that’s not the reason,” he teased her. She averted her gaze, her softly tanned skin two shades darker from how embarrassed she was about all of this. “No need to be shy.”

“I’ll be shy about whatever I want,” she hissed at him. “Can I just say that I hate how much you can love me into doing things?”

“You can say that, but I don’t think you mean it.” Seeing the golden opportunity, he smirked. “You typically know what you’re talking about.”

“Just…” Scarlett let out a long sigh. “I don’t even know why I’m wrestling with myself this much.” Looking straight into the mirror, the redhead inspected herself. She ran a hand through her short, straight hair. The carefully maintained, silky strands were pulled back, to reveal both of her red eyes. Then the bangs fell back over her right eye. “You do make me more of a woman. That still bothers me.”

“Because we like to be in control when we change,” John repeated what they had surmised when they last talked about this. “Always sucks when you wake up one morning and realize you’ve become someone else without noticing. Whether it’s a change for better or for worse, it just isn’t great to know that you had no active hand in it.”

“Yeah,” Scarlett agreed and quietly turned her head left to right. “It’s been over a year already, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Scarlett chuckled and leaned back. Just gazing into each other’s eyes, they remained unmoving for almost a minute. Suddenly, the redhead furrowed her eyebrows. “There are no signals in this room.”

“Took you quite long to notice.” John smirked, resuming his massaging motions.

“Where are we anyway?”

“The Palace. I made this room for Lydia, but we only used it a few times to cut Eliana’s hair after her transformations made it grow excessively. I had it sealed up for a while and opened it back up for today. Had to line all the insides of the walls with copper so you wouldn’t get a signal.”

“…You know literally every horrible or fantastic thing could happen out there right now and you would miss it, yeah?”

In all seriousness, John told her, “That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make to have some time where there’s only you and only me.”

“…Where is Jake?”

“In the Creator Double room, as deactivated as a double can be without breaking the spell.” He kissed her upside down forehead.

Scarlett stretched a little more and puckered her pink lips. Another kiss was demanded and another kiss was given. There was no short supply of these, so he gave them cheap to a woman that did plenty to earn them. After it ended, they were back to gazing. Finally, Scarlett broke the silence.

“You have a drink for me?” He did indeed. Pulling a chilled bottle of whiskey and an appropriate glass from his inventory, he presented her with a bit of her favourite beverage. She swirled the golden liquid for a little bit. “It’s been over a year already,” she mumbled, before taking a sip. “A lot has happened between us in that time.” Amusedly, she blew air out of her nose. “Ironically, when I heard you had landed, I was tempted to hire Sigmund to go after you.”

“Well, you didn’t need to hire him, we ran into each other on our own.” He chuckled. “You were so angry about that.”

Little bits of circuitry jumped in her eyes when she gave him a cold stare. “You dumped a bunch of water on my skyscraper.”

“Messing with portals has interesting effects.”

“Messing with me has interesting effects,” Scarlett joked, then pinched the bridge of her nose. “Forget I said that. Sounded way less cringy in my head.”

“I think that sounded fine.”

“Really? Alright then.” Scarlett took a second sip from her whiskey. Already, it was halfway empty. “I refused to fall in love with you for a long time… compared to everyone else around us… and I refused to integrate with all of them for a long time too…” Turning the glass in her hand, the redhead stared at her reflection. “Why am I so uncertain about this too? Hey, John?”

“Yeah.”

“You think I would like having long hair?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” Scarlett downed the rest of the whiskey and then put the glass down on the floor. “Do it. Make me more of your woman.” After a short pause, she added, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” They both got comfortable in their respective positions. Then, John put the comb to the top of her head and slowly pulled it through. Her silky, straight hair offered practically no resistance. A little bit of green played around the comb and the strands it touched. By the time John arrived at the tips, they had extended about two finger-widths further.

John moved the comb to another spot, then slowly moved it through again. The result was similar. As long as he picked his spots well and maintained the pace, the result would look even. “How long will you make it?” Scarlett asked, about a minute into the procedure.

“I don’t know,” he responded honestly. “I figured at least to this length.” He gestured at the height of her solar plexus. “Maybe I will go all the way to here though.” The Gamer put his hands to her midriff – and tickled her.

“No!” Scarlett shouted, as she was forced to giggle. Far from being dissuaded, John instead put the comb to the side and engaged an all out offensive against her tummy. “Cea-hahahaha-se!” The demand did nothing, the advance of his wiggly fingers continued. A weak spot in her faltering defences was spotted: the blouse was not tugged into her pants! Swiftly, the hands executed a manoeuvre and rewarded their controller with the feeling of naked skin.

The usually cold technomancer was reduced into a state of constant girly giggles. An occasional tomboyish groan interjected the whole affair. She had stopped pleading. Half-hearted escape attempts were thwarted with ease. John only stopped because he was afraid he might make her lungs collapse if he kept going.

Scarlett let out a terribly adorable hic and put a hand in front of her mouth. “See what you have done!” she complained. “You absolute -hic- ass!”

“I see this as a win on every level,” the Gamer declared and went back to combing her hair.

“Why did you -hic- even -hic-… alcohol.” Finishing his current stroke, he did oblige her and got her a fresh glass of whiskey. Scarlett sipped between movements of the comb. Holding her breath for almost a minute, she took another sip at the end of it. “You are a terrible person.”

“I know, that’s why I love you,” John responded. “Hold still.” Carefully, he brushed through her bangs.

That was the final touch on the first notable length increment. Her hair reached to her shoulders now. About twice as long as it used to be. Already she looked considerably womanlier. The shape of her face was unchanged, of course, the long hair just had that effect. Scarlett turned her head in a few different directions, then took another sip. “Keep going.”

“Yes, ma’am,” John responded and got back to work.

For more than twenty minutes, he was occupied with her hair. The process was unnecessarily lengthened by the two of them getting caught up in lover’s quarrels and an impromptu make out session. Most of the time was spent on the actual task though. The longer Scarlett’s hair got, the longer each stroke required.

When it was about halfway down her back, Scarlett stood up to inspect herself. She fell back down into the chair, an act that was closely followed by an annoyed groan. “That will take getting used to,” she said, while pulling her now cascading hair out between herself and the backrest.

John spread the crimson out in front of him. “We can stop here,” he reminded her. This was already past the initial length he had suggested. In the end, it was all up to her.

“No, I like the way this looks, keep going.”

And keep going he did. For another ten minutes, he lengthened her hair. They were moving towards the finishing touches and repeatedly paused so Scarlett could re-inspect herself. When she finally decided that it was enough, the hair almost reached all the way to her butt.

Like before, it was straight and silky. Growing longer had changed nothing about the texture. Even the whirl that dictated the direction of her bangs was the same, keeping one eye completely obscured. Only when she brushed those strands behind her right ear was it properly visible. Some of the red strands cascaded down her front instead, framing the barely notable rise of her chest.

Not only did she look more feminine, she looked more dangerous as well. It was the intense colour of her hair, coupled with her red eyes and analytical expression. Overtly pleased with the result, Scarlett smirked and finished her third glass of whiskey. The smile looked like it could upend nations. Which, among all his haremettes, she likely could do the fastest.

“You were right. I do look good,” she said, running a hand through it all. The perfectly straight strands parted like red water around her fingers. Next, she put her hands behind her neck and fanned her hair out. The way the light broke on the moving crimson was beautiful. “Alright, you can show me off.”

“Gladly,” John said and offered his arm. In the few steps it took her to reach him, she was his entire world. The deliberate strides, the swaying of her hair, the confidence and the cockiness of her body language. It all was just so much her.

They left the signal isolated room. John had no means to check, but he trusted she didn’t reconnect to the various technologies around them. They just headed out, ate ice cream, intimidated an obnoxious, former business partner together, and such fun things power couples did on a date.

She was even more beautiful than the day he had met her.