Official Report
1328 Maryzell Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho
“All right so I got you—” The voice spoke out of nowhere and Kruhl started, jerking her hand out of her privates, and cheeks burning scarlet, as her eyes turned to meet Teressa’s gaze.
Teressa, a bundle of clothes in hand, mouth slack and eyes wide. “I, uh, I mean I didn’t mean to intrude, I just thought—”
“It’s fine!” Kruhl blurted out, hands snaking up her chest and cupped her breasts in a belayed attempt at modesty. “Just leave it I-I—”
Teressa dropped the clothes on the vanity and bolted out the door, slamming it shut behind her. Kruhl swallowed in a fruitless attempt to rid herself of the lump in her throat and glanced down at her soap covered breasts. She was so engrossed in pleasuring herself, she’d forgotten all about Teressa.
The interruption left her feeling like a pit had formed inside of her and she saw no way to fill it. Before her transformation, such an interruption would have killed the mood. She couldn’t say if it was because she was female or human, but either way it made her squirm.
There was a genuine need for her to continue, but she stopped herself. Instead, she recovered the cloth from between her legs where she dropped it during her explorations and resumed washing herself.
When finished, she hung the cloth along the edge of the tub and cupped both hands together against her lips. She shivered, allowing herself to imagine Teressa kissing her breasts.
She drew in her breath and dipped below the water to wet her hair, gasping for breath as she emerged. She wiped the excess water from her face and gathered all the loose strands of hair dangling in front of her eyes and collected them behind her ears.
With shaking hands, she reached for the bottle of shampoo, Teressa explained the differences between body wash and shampoo, but the once-king considered the distinction strange. Soap was soap.
Still, as she recalled the others instructions, she imagined the other woman’s naked body heaving against her own, her lips moving their way up and down her neck. She swallowed hard, the bulge wedged in her gullet still refusing to go away, and again studied the bottle.
Like the body wash, it was labeled ‘Swan’, and was Lavender scented, but this time it purported to be both a Shampoo and Conditioner, whatever that meant, and claimed to be formulated for normal to dry hair. Kruhl sighed, dumping some into her hand and rubbed it into her scalp.
She worked her way through her tangled locks. A vain attempt at clearing one of the hair mats, only succeeded in producing a sharp jolt of pain and a yelp. Clenching her jaw shut, Kruhl gave up, instead focusing on cleaning. When she finished, she pulled the stopper from the drain and climbed out, retrieving the towel from the counter.
She unfolded the fabric and paused, fingering it, surprised that it would be so soft and light. Teressa led her to believe that these so-called towels were used for drying oneself off, and after at last examining the long piece of fabric she understood why. Back home, she had access to the finest materials and used any number of fabrics to dry herself, but this towel did the job much better. Then again, she now possessed less hair than before.
She tossed the towel aside and reecovered the clothes from atop the vanity. She retrieved the shirt, a simple pink one-piece garment with an image of a strange character wearing a red dress with white dots and a tied-up bit of material upon its head. It bore rounded ears and had a short muzzle and exaggerated nose. Its features were rodent-like, but beyond that she could not guess what sort of creature it might be.
Even Kruhl, who’d never laid eyes on such attire, understood at once that it was intended for females. She crinkled her nose, before emitting a low growl, and pulled it up over her head and down over her breast. It fit snug in the chest, but not so tight as to constrict her breathing.
Next came the panties. Undergarments were not a new concept to her. Back at home she often wore a loincloth beneath her tunic or skirt, but the pink bit of fabric with heart-shapes on them were more feminine than her usual fair. Even the clothing they provided for her at the mental hospital had been less of an affront to her masculinity.
The skirt was the most tolerable part of the ensemble, at least in Kruhl’s eyes. Trousers were in their infancy among her people and used only by those who rode horseback. Loose-fitting skirts provided a flexibility of movement that slacks would never match, and as a battle-hardened warrior that was the most important factor of all.
Even so, she barely fit the skirt over her hips. It was designed for a child and Kruhl, while small, possessed the figure of a full-grown woman. Once she pulled it past her wide child-bearing hips, the garment fit her well enough, but as she looked upon her reflection, she saw nothing of herself looking back at her. It chilled her to the bone.
The mirror… she mused regarding the massive fixture which took up half of the wall. She’d never seen its like. Her people possessed mirrors, but their artisans crafted them of polished metals, and even the best only provided a muddy clarity.
She clenched her eyes shut and turned away with clenched teeth. Tears burned her eyes and she cursed the mirror’s creators before releasing a lengthy breath of air. She paused long enough to pull her water-logged hair from inside her shirt and slipped out of the bathroom where Teressa waited for her.
“I, uh, sorry, I didn’t think you would be well, you know…” Teressa kneaded one hand into the back of her neck, offering an apologetic smile and peered down at the former king.
“I would just as soon not discuss it.” Kruhl frowned, folding her arms over her chest.
Teressa nodded, snaked a hand out and clasped her fingers around a lock of the other’s hair. “You want to get started?”
Kruhl grimaced, gaped at the other, and nodded. She doubted she would enjoy what followed, but understood that it was necessary. With a lengthy sigh, she followed the younger Van den Broeke down the corridor and toward what was certain to be a less than pleasant experience.
The razor buzzed along the side of Kruhl’s head and she closed her eyelids as the device ate her hair. It hummed against her scalp, vibrating so strongly it resonated in her eye sockets. She was not fond of the experience, but after seeing what the machine did, she understood its value at once.
Kruhl’s hair was such a mess, Teressa informed her, that she would have a much easier time if she cut it short. She’d given Kruhl the news as if she were a commander informing her she’d just lost an important battle. Kruhl didn’t see it as quite so devastating, but were it her glorious Assar mane being whittled away by the razor, she might have been singing a different tune.
Teressa knew her way around the razor, Kruhl could see that just by observing her, but the other seemed to think it necessary she explain that she once made a living as something called a hair dresser. Kruhl didn’t ask for specifics. She did not wish to get hair in her mouth again, but she pieced together that Teressa must have cut hair for a living. It seemed an odd vocation, but it didn’t surprise Kruhl. Little of this world made much sense.
As the other worked, Kruhl watched, lips pressed shut. She was going stir crazy, not just because she was stuck in place, but for other reasons.
Her nipples were hard and a glance down confirmed what she’d already suspected. They were showing through her shirt. She chomped down on her lower-lip, heart racing in her chest. She wanted, no needed, a release. Sex! The object of her desires was mere inches away, all she need do was lean forward and…
By Thun! Her face burned in shame. The once-mighty Kruhl, reduced to lusting after a human woman. Her father would have wept that she’d sunk so low, and the realization did her no good. She wanted nothing more than to leap from her seat and mount Teressa. Gods! When would it end?
And as if the gods had answered, the razor clicked off. Kruhl jerked her head, glancing over her shoulder. A tuft of hair fell over Kruhl’s left eye as she studied the hair stylist who stood, arms folded across her chest, razor in hand and her lips pressed in a thoughtful expression.
“I think that should do it.” Teressa planted both hands on her hip, then turned her back to Kruhl. The once-king swallowed, reaching a hand up to collect the stray hair and tuck it back into place.
“I thought we agreed you would cut my hair short.” Kruhl glowered, letting out a slight growl.
“I did,” Teressa replied, turning to Kruhl with a square-shaped object, perhaps two dorn long on each side, clutched in her hands. “Have a look.”
She held it out to Kruhl, and she hesitated only a few seconds before snatching it out of her outstretched hand, only realizing it was a hand mirror after she took it from the other woman.
Kruhl placed the mirror in her lap, handle out, and stared down to take a better look. The girl, whose face she despised, peered up at her. Teressa had shaved most of the left side down almost to nubs, and Kruhl traced her hand over it, the wound from her battle with Reesha and her minions was now visible, the black stitching sticking out from it. The cut had scabbed over, but it would be some time before it finished healing. She thought it a tribute to Teressa’s skill that Kruhl experienced almost no pain when the razor passed over it.
The rest of her hair wasn’t so short. Those locks were perhaps a dorn and a half, or about eight inches long. Teressa combed her bangs to the right, and Kruhl frowned, turning her head to get a better view. She expected something closer to the close-shorn cuts sported by the Angols, but this somehow looked more feminine. Still, she didn’t dislike it. Before she looked like a timid creature, the haircut made her countenance seem more… fierce.
“Well?” Teressa asked, leaning forward, her breasts pressing into Kruhl’s back.
This only reignited Kruhl’s arousal, and instead of answering, she at last launched herself toward the other, her lips locking around her mouth.
At first, Teressa resisted and pulled away, but then Kruhl pressed harder and the other woman melted into the former king’s arms, returning the kiss.
The next thing Kruhl knew, she was spread eagle atop the bed, Teressa’s lithe body mounted atop hers. Kruhl didn’t recall whether it had been she who had pulled the other atop her, or if Teressa had pushed her onto the soft fabric bedspread, but she didn’t care.
She closed her eyes, allowing the younger Van den Broeke sister to pull the fabric of the once-king’s shirt up and kiss her nipples. Kruhl shivered, hands reaching up to kneed the other’s breasts. She didn’t remember removing her skirt or panties, but soon a hard throbbing shaft thrust into her cunt. She trembled, knowing it at once for what it was. She didn’t understand why Teressa had one, but the once-king didn’t care. It felt too good. She shrieked in pleasure, not caring who heard. At last, she’d found her release.
The computer flicked and the screen fizzed out, smoke rising out of the base, and Amelia leaned back, running both hands through her hair. She wasn’t the paranoid type, but this was her third attempt at getting in touch with AEGIS since coming to the house, and each time something had gone wrong.
When she tried to make a call using the house’s landline, the phone went dead after the first ring and repeated efforts to make additional calls had turned out the same. The first time she attempted to access the AEGIS secure servers, the computer had shut down without warning and now this…
Someone was trying very hard to keep her from getting in contact with her superiors. Which could only mean one thing…
She jerked to her feet and took off running for the bedrooms. If she was right, she needed to warn the others before it was too late…
