Part 13 – The Shower

Most of the ‘maintenance’ which Allison had in mind was to do with proper hair care and washing, but she mentioned other things like tampons, which I really wasn’t looking forward to, wiping myself down after urinating, and, my favorite, shaving in those awkward areas. I got Allison to shut up and rushed her out of the bathroom before she could think of any more ways to humiliate me. It was one of the more awkward conversations I’d ever had with a casual acquaintance.
 
Once Allison departed, I closed the door, this time ensuring I locked it, and undressed myself. I tried not to focus so much on my transformed body parts, but it was almost impossible. Every time I moved, those stupid lumps got in the way, and the way which the fabric rubbed against my breasts was a very new sensation. Once I disrobed, I glanced down at my chest, bit my lip, stepped into the shower and turned on the water.
 
When I felt that hot water splash against my chest, I knew that whatever hope I’d had of ignoring my body was circling the drain. Nevertheless, I tried. When I soaped up my breasts I kept my head, but when I got to my clit, curiosity got the better of me. I traced my hand around the edges of the ‘hole‘, then plunged a finger inside. A gasp escaped my lips, and I slid the finger free. The sensation was a new one, but it wasn’t unpleasant just a little weird.
 
I washed my privates, in the manner Allison described, then grabbed a fistful of my hair and grimaced. It had become so long and thick that cleaning it seemed all but impossible, but I didn’t want to walk around with matted or greasy hair. So after grabbing a handful of lavender-scented shampoo (which was the only option available) I got to work massaging my scalp and rubbing the soap all the way to the end of my hair. It was awkward what with the horns and ears, but I managed. I scowled each time I splattered soap and water in my ears and made a mental note to look into filling them with cotton when I showered.
 
Just washing my hair seem like a major undertaking and I wondered why so many women put up with it. Short hair wasn’t unfashionable for women, per se, but long hair was the trend.
 
I was about to turn the water off, when I spotted a bottle of conditioner, and I remembered Allison’s lecture about hygiene. It wouldn’t have fazed me so much, but I think my mental changes kicked in again. I imagined myself with soft, silky hair and all my resistance crumbled away. I snatched the bottle up, read the instructions, and in short order I was rinsing the last of the conditioner from my hair.
 
Drying my new locks proved to be quite a task, and even after toweling them off they were still wet. I got dressed, first in a pair of jeans which were an older style, but were of an obvious feminine cut. They must have belonged to Megan’s Mom from before she had passed away. Next, I grabbed the shirt, a bright pink thing in a more modern style. I had no idea where it had come from, but one thing was sure, it wasn’t anything Megan would be caught dead wearing.
 
When I glanced down at myself, I grimaced, not satisfied by the outfit. My mental changes kicked in again. I closed my eyes and willed my clothes to change. I morphed the shirt into a violet tank top with spaghetti straps, which was a perfect match to my hair and I changed the color of the jeans to black and made them more form fitting. All, the excess material, I used to form a built-in bra into my shirt and a pair of socks to match my top.
 
With a growl of irritation, I pulled my hair free and shuddered as the cold and wet strands slid up my back. I swung the door open and before I took a single step into the hall, Allison appeared in the doorway and pushed me back inside.
 

 
“Did you even listen to what I had to say? You need to comb your hair or it’s going to get matted!” Allison lurched toward me and I took a step or two back half expecting her to attack me. Instead, she turned toward the cabinet, pulled a drawer open and produced a comb. Armed with the implement she advanced on me, grabbed me by the shoulder and forced me into a sitting position along the edge of the tub. She was a lot stronger than she looked or, I realized, I’d lost a lot of strength from my transformation. Allison was taller than me and had a more athletic build. It stood to reason she’d now be stronger than me.
 
“Did you use conditioner?” she asked.
 
When I replied in the affirmative, she nodded in approval. “Good, just remember to keep using it at least once a week. It helps keep long hair from tangling. Shampoo takes all the moisture out of your hair, conditioner adds it back. Combing after showering helps prevent tangling too. Make sure you use a wide-tooth comb and not a brush.”
 
She combed my hair, starting at the tips and working her way up and when finished she folded her arms, and looked down at me with a frown. “There, isn’t that better?”
 
“So, much better.” My reply was anything but sincere, but Allison didn’t seem to notice. She stared at me with her lips pursed for a moment and I imagined the gears turning in her head. I pushed past her before she found new ways to torture me and let out a long sigh of relief when I had escaped the bathroom.
 
I made my way downstairs where I found Megan lounging about on the loveseat. “Well, that was real fun.”
 
Megan yawned and tilted her head sideways and made eye contact. “Allison?”
 
I nodded and explained how her cousin had cornered me in the bathroom. Megan snickered and collapsed back into her former position. “Should have figured she’d do something like that. She’s been weird since her twist. Yesterday before we went to the mall, she cornered me with a curling iron.”
 
Since Megan was sitting in the dead middle of the loveseat and didn’t seem inclined to give up a cushion, I plopped down on one chair opposite her. “I don’t get it, if she’s such a drag why is she visiting?”
 
“Oh, I don’t know.” She sighed, rolled her eyes sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “Her parents left on some business trip and they came up with this genius idea to saddle us with her for a week.”
 
“Parents?” I froze up and felt my lips tremble. Her harmless little comment reminded me of everything I had lost. Tears came flooding down my cheeks and I sobbed. God, I was freaking pathetic.
 
“Shit,” Megan cursed and before I said or did anything she was up and out of her seat and had her arms around me. “I’m sorry. Hey, it’ll be okay.”
 
I bit the tears back and wiped my face clean all the while shaking my head. It had been the overreaction of the century, but I couldn’t help myself. “Don’t be. It’s just hard for me to wrap my head around this. I never expected Mom to do anything like this. I’m her son for Christ’s sake.”
 
Megan pulled away and her eyebrows shot up at the mention of the word son, but she didn’t say a thing. “I don’t think anyone would blame you for being upset. It was a horrible thing your mom did. Especially after the way they humiliated you in the mall. All things considered, I’d say you’re handling it pretty damn well.”
 
I shook my head and fought down fresh tears. “I wish I could talk to Mom make her understand that it’s still me inside.”
 
Megan pulled on my arm, jumped to her feet and took me with her. “Come on, let’s do it! Let’s go over to your house and confront her!”
 
“You can’t be serious?!” I broke away from her and balled my fists at my side. “You don’t know her like I do! She’s so freaking stubborn and she hates the twisted! She will not relent, not even on something like this.”
 
“But your own flesh and blood. She gave birth to you for hell sakes! It’s not like you can help you’re twisted.”
 
“I know,” I said letting my head droop into my hands. “I never said it made sense.”
 
“Then go for your own sake. You need closure and face it… you can’t keep borrowing clothes from me. At least, get some of your stuff. With your trick you should be able to reuse all of your old clothes.”
 
It made sense I suppose. I needed to confront Mom, at least for my sake, but a part of me still thought it was a bad idea. I relented. I couldn’t say no to Megan. “Fine, but I’m not sticking around if things go hairy.”
 
“No I wouldn’t think so,” she said then lumbered across the room and swung the front door open and held her hand out. I paused and stared at the opening and swallowed. The prospect of going out again, terrified me, but I had to do it sooner or later. I bit my lip and stepped through the door, I couldn’t keep myself cooped up inside just because I looked a little odd. I had my whole life in front of me and I would not let my mother or anyone else stand in my way.