("It's here! It's finally here!")

Alice didn't remember pulling out her keys to enter her apartment. Yet here she was, standing and staring at the package in her hands. Her purse was heavy on her shoulder. Her nose was itchy. Her eyes were glued to the box and its label.

"Deuxième moi" was all the label said.

Alice smiled and laughed in short, nervous joy. She slid her purse down her arm. It made a gentle thud on the floor. She wiped her nose and walked to her spare room.

The spare room looked like a handyman's garage combined with a beauty salon. A full vanity was adorned with an assortment of jars and brushes. On the wall next to it was a pegboard loaded with high tech knives, rings, clamps and caps. Beside it was a clothes rack full of revealing dresses and corsets like the outfit she was wearing now. A twin size mattress rested against one wall underneath a sea of throw pillows. On the wall above it were a hundred pictures, all of them of Alice, yet...

In this picture, she has a bracelet on her wrist. Her hand, however, is missing. Her face is making a sarcastic shocked expression.

In this picture, both her hands are present and pressing against the sides of her face. Her mouth is shaped in a large "O" with lips coated in velvet red lipstick. Where her eyes, eyebrows, and nose should have been was pure unblemished skin.

The trend continued, with Alice missing parts of her body, Alice cut in half or segmented, Alice with additional limbs or faces or heads, even some where you couldn't be sure if it was Alice at all. Every one of the pictures showed Alice on that bed, and every one of them was taken from the video feed of the cameras she set up in the room.

Alice put the box down on the vanity. She grabbed a sonic knife from the pegboard and cut the packaging tape. With a small grin, she took the knife and cut through her left wrist, severing her hand from her arm. It fell an inch to land on the desk. She flexed her fingers.

Alice laughed. She looked down at her left arm. She swung the knife short and fast, hacking off her arm below the elbow. Another swing separated herself mid bicep. Both segments flopped to the ground as Alice giggled again.

She set down her knife and pried open the box with her remaining hand. Her fingertips met a sheet of paper laying over what she purchased. She slid it out and began to read.

"Deuxième Moi is a powerful potion designed to pull a new personality out of people or their living pieces. Be it turning your hand into a temporary personal pet, or pulling a kind woman out of your mother in law for just the few hours she's visiting, Deuxième Moi has you covered!

"Please always get permission before using this on anyone else. Please only use with supervision from someone who is not using it. One dropper will always be enough for one transformation. New personalities take over until the effects wear off. Some users experience the effects longer than others. Some users experience additional growths and changes. If any effects last over 4 hours without reapplication, transformation may be permanent. Use at your own risk!"

Alice's mouth tightened into a thin line. She had always used these kinds of products by herself and never had any problems. Sure, none of the other items she used took over part of her body, but how different could it be?

She looked over to the wall of pictures. There she is, beheaded, giving two big thumbs up. There she is without any arms or legs. And there! Only existed from the waist down for an hour! Even now, one of her arms was nothing more than a few slabs of meat and she was just fine.

She dropped the paper to the desk and pulled the small black container out of the box. A white circle on one side showed a logo: the white masks of tragedy and comedy.

"The only thing I'm worried about is what I'm wearing for this," she said. She looked at herself in the mirror. Chestnut brown hair cut in a bob to complement her round face. Wide, brown eyes that had a slight gleam to them. Her thick (and proud of it) body, currently missing one of its arms. Emerald green dress with frills lining the square cutout that displayed her massive chest. Black leather corset, tightened down to 24 inches at its smallest. Alice smiled and decided this outfit would do.

After fumbling and failing with the screw-top lid with just one hand, Alice grabbed the pieces of her left arm and put herself back together. She turned the top, cracking the seal. Halfway to opening it, she stopped.

("What do I want to use this on? Myself as a whole? No, too straightforward. Maybe a hand pet? No, that's mundane, I can do better.")

Alice strummed her fingers on the desk for a few minutes. Each idea seemed too basic. Watching her hands or legs move around just felt boring.

"But what if," Alice began. Her fingers stopped strumming.

("...I couldn't watch? What if I could only see it later?")

Her hand slid over to the sonic knife and gripped the handle. She leaned forward, resting the side of her head on the table. With her free hand holding her head down, Alice carved back and forth into the back of her neck until she was decapitated.

With her hands on the vanity to support her, Alice stood up. She felt her smooth neck stump for a moment, taking the sonic knife into her other hand. She took the steps over to the pegboard blind (she knew the room like the back of her hand) and hung the knife up. A short search put one of the metal caps in her hands.

"I do not use these enough, and I really like how they feel, too," Alice's head said, still cheek-down on the desk. Hanging on the pegboard made the cap look like a shallow bowl connected to a few straps. Once Alice had it on properly, the metal cap covered her neck and the loops tightened under her armpits to keep the cover down tight. She sat back down and adjusted her head to face herself.

Alice was not confident with her body until the first time she saw it without her head on her shoulders. She realized just how beautiful she was, seeing herself like other people saw her, seeing her curves from someone else's view. That first night she was headless was the first night she started taking her pictures.

She gazed at herself now, headless again. Alice grabbed her head and squeezed it in between her breasts. She ran her fingers through her hair, content for a moment with herself.

Alice placed her head on the table, facing herself again. She reached behind her head for the container and placed it in between her body and her head. A few turns of the top showed the dropper was full of a black, smoke-like mixture.

There was no moment where Alice was afraid of what might happen next. The warnings on the paper were not forgotten; rather, she ignored them because she believed nothing like that would ever go wrong with her. Sure, someone ELSE may have issues.

"But that won't happen to me," Alice said. "I'll be headless for a few hours and be fine." She took the full dropper in hand, then felt her head with both hands to get the dropper in the right position. Without ceremony, she squeezed the full contents of the dropper over her head.

Alice didn't feel anything. Before she could wonder if she did something wrong, she saw a dark grey translucent mist drop around her head. The cloud stayed for a few moments. It didn't have a smell or a taste, but Alice could swear she heard a faint, steady, pleasant sound until the mist was gone.

Then...nothing.

She sat and waited, staring at her own breasts. She wasn't surprised people couldn't stop staring at them. She could hardly stop herself from being hypnotized by the slow rise and fall of her chest. But that was normal. Still the same old Alice.

After a minute or so, Alice stood up. She turned and walked to the door with her arms up in front of her, leaving her head on the vanity. A minute passed before she shuffled back into the room with her purse and her phone in hand. She sat her body down and held the phone to her face. 7:30.

"It has to have been at least 15 minutes by now and I feel nothing!" Alice sighed. "I'm using more in five minutes if this keeps up."

In fact, it had been less than three minutes. She crossed her arms under her bust and started tapping her foot. She paid good money for this and she wasn't feeling anything. 7:31. Large sigh. Hard taps on the floor. Closing her eyes. Opening them to see 7:32 on her phone. Still no difference.

"Fuck it, I'm not waiting any more." Alice took the dropper and refilled it. As she was squeezing the second dose of Deuxième Moi onto her head, she noticed that she couldn't hear her foot tapping the floor. She could feel it, but there was no sound.

"Is it working?" Alice said, and immediately her face lit up. She couldn't hear anything, so the potion must have started working!

"Finally," she tried to say, but now her mouth didn't move. Her lips and jaw felt like concrete. Alice watched as the second wave of mist descended around her head.

("Wait...it started to kick in before the second dose had time to surround me...")

Alice realized that she had used more than she should have, but the idea only excited her. Her, headless, with some other personality taking over her head!There was no way this would be as boring or mundane as a hand pet.

The last thing Alice saw before her vision faded (or her eyelids closed, she couldn't tell) was her beautiful chest, her capped neck stump, and her hands gripping the edge of the table. In the darkness, that steady, pleasant sound returned, but stronger. Alice strummed her fingers on the desk, but the only sound was that single constant note.

At 7:34, Alice could no longer feel her head. No more weight on her severed neck; no more tongue grazing against the back of her teeth; no sights, nor sounds, nor smells. She slid her hands to her face and cupped her cheeks in her palms. Only her hands could feel the contact between her skin. She picked up her useless head and held it to her chest again. The pressure on her cleavage was immediate, but her head could have been a mannequin head and Alice would have felt the same.

("I wonder what kind of personality my head will have. I'll have to watch the camera feed when I put my head back on later.")

Alice put her head down on the vanity for the third time at 7:35. Once her hands left the sides of her face, she felt a tingling sensation in her neck stump. She reached up to feel it, but only hit the metal cap above it.

("I'll just take this off and-oh, oh, OW, OWWW!")

The sensation transitioned from tingling to discomfort to burning in the span of seconds. Removing the cap was forgotten as pain enveloped her severed neck. Her hands and arms were paralyzed in crooked coils. Her body rocked back and forth, half-standing and falling back into the chair. Alice accidentally smacked her lifeless head, causing it to roll backwards. It fell facing away from her flailing body.

Her chest rose and fell erratically until the burning sensation began to wind down, but some other feeling Alice never felt before was taking its place. It was similar to the feeling you get in your mouth when you drink through a straw. It was like her neck stump was a vacuum cleaner, but what was it sucking up?

("Oh...oh thank god the pain is gone...")

Alice's body relaxed. The suction feeling grew, like something was entering her, but this was pleasant compared to the heat she felt moments before. The vacuum feeling was consistent and strong for some short unknown amount of time, then ended all at once. Alice sat still.

("I wonder what that head is going through. Wait...that head? It was my head! But...")

Alice would have gasped if she had a mouth. 'Was' her head? 'That' head? She couldn't think of it as her head anymore.

("It doesn't belong to me. I used to use that head, but I gave it up. I gave away my HEAD!")

Alice loved being headless. She's had it severed, she's had it deleted, she's had it locked in a box, and she's even had her head eaten from her body. But this was the first time someone (or something) took control of her head. This was the first time she couldn't just take it back when she wanted or wait for it to regenerate. It wasn't her desire that determined what the head was used for anymore.

Alice squirmed in her chair. Her thoughts were firing at a mile a minute. Losing control, losing her head, feeling gorgeous, what the head could see and do, would the head want to eat her out, not having permission, being submissive, being wet, being headless permanently, being watched by a stranger that lived in her head...

On and on her thoughts went in a spiral that dropped Alice deep into sexual desire. Her hands roamed her body with squeezes and caresses. Occasionally, she would reach towards where she thought the head was and stop halfway, remembering she couldn't just shove a head that didn't belong to her in between her legs or her tits.

("There isn't a head in the world that belongs to me.")

If Alice could make a sound, she would have moaned at that thought. Her hands gripped the cap above her neck, then slid to her chest. She stood up like this, with her hands massaging her tits, and stumbled towards the mattress. Alice lost her balance and fell. Her knees landed on the ground as her chest landed on the pillows. She hadn't bothered trying to put out a hand to break her fall, but was wasting no time getting one of those hands under her dress and in the front of her panties.

Alice stayed on the mattress for the next seven hours. She had brought herself to orgasm while clothed, taken off everything she had been wearing, laid back, got herself worked up again, climaxed while her bare neck stump was pressed against the wall, and fallen asleep. Alice woke up at about 5:30 in the morning.

("Mmm...that's the first time I've fallen asleep without a head. What time is it? Where's that head?")

Alice stretched out on the bed. Her arms went up high enough to bring her shoulders against her neck stump. When she sat up, she froze.

("That...head. Where is...the head...that...")

Alice was trying her hardest to think of her head as, well, hers.

("...used to be mine? It IS...not...mine...")

She kept her breathing steady and tried to keep herself calm. It was just a nap, right? It was going to be fine. She just needed to know what time it was.

Alice pushed herself to the edge of the bed and stood up. Several unsteady steps brought her naked headless body to the pegboard. She leaned against the wall beside it. Her hand shook as she reached for a rectangular box hung by a ring and a hook at the top corner.

("Its all fine, Alice. You'll be laughing at yourself when you put a head back on your shoulders and watch this tomorrow.")

She pressed the only button on the box. One side of it immediately shifted with a snap that Alice couldn't hear. The shift left that side of the box with a set of raised numbers on its surface; the current date and time. For the hundredth time in her life, Alice read the time and date the box told her.

("No...no no no this has never been wrong but it can't be true it can't have been eight hours-")

Alice felt over the numbers again. She twisted the box around, trying to read them another way, hoping she read it wrong but knowing she didn't.

("-I shouldn't have used another dose, so impatient, so impulsive-")

Her hands were twisting the time box and dropped it. Alice had no idea where it was heading until it bounced off her foot. The hit wasn't painful, but the shock and surprise of it caused Alice to jump.

("-maybe I can put the head back on my neck and this will all end-")

Alice's blind stride brought her to the vanity hard enough to bump the jars and bottles against each other. Her hands leaned on (then spread quickly around) the surface of the desk.

("...where did that head go? It was right he-")

Alice's fingers found something wet. She brought both hands together to the wet spot, then felt around it.

("No broken jars...feels like a circle of moisture...as large as...a neck...")

She spread her hands further out from the circle. Nothing behind it but the mirror, jars and brushes. Only open space lay to the sides. In front of it...

("More moisture...is it spit? Blood? Something else? There's a trail...but the head, where did that head go?")

Alice dropped to her knees to feel the ground by the edge of the vanity. She touched another wet spot under the edge of the desktop. Moments later, Alice was following the trail of damp carpet on her hands and knees, blindly patting down the floor, feeling a sick mix of fear and pleasure.

("Transformations may occur...transformations may be permanent...what did the head become? What happened to it?")

Alice crawled along, first out of her spare room, then through her living room, all while following whatever was on her carpet. When her hand finally struck something, Alice became paralyzed with fear.

("-no-")

She reached out and touched what she had struck.

("-nonono, this isn't happening-")

It was her front door. But it wasn't steady and unyielding; it was swaying. Alice was naked and headless at the open front door of her apartment, and the moisture trail all over the doorknob and floor continued out into the hall of the apartment complex.

("What was once my head is gone. GONE gone.")

Alice pushed the door closed.

("All because I couldn't be boring. All because I couldn't fucking wait. I'm a headless woman now.")

Alice fell over onto her carpet. Though there were no tears, she was crying, her body curled up and shaking on the floor. Even so, even now, a pleasure of being beheaded permanently remained and grew.

It would be quite some time before Alice got up to stumble around her apartment and start figuring out what she could do next.