Traffic was a little light for this time of year in Florida. This meant two things for a middle-aged Florida man, Joel.
First, he was making less money. Less tourists means less people calling for an Uber means less times Joel gets paid each day.
The second thing is good; less traffic means Joel can drive faster on the main highways. The faster he gets his trips done, the more trips he can do. He's already been pulled over twice in the past year, but both times the cops saw him with a passenger and they let him get on his way pretty quickly.
They take care of the locals when there's so many strangers in the city of Orlando.
Joel was glad for that speed today. His rider wasn't bad, exactly, but he got a weird vibe from her ever since picking her up at the airport. Some people talk, some people stay quiet, but she...
Joel glanced at his phone and saw the information he always sees at an instant nowadays: Exit right in 38 miles, ETA 55 minutes, rider's name is Alice.
Alice started out talking, but it felt forced to Joel. Like the act of talking was something she HAD to do, so she said a lot of things that meant nothing. Did she just want to hear herself? He didn't know for sure, but he did know that she didn't listen to his answers.
Joel looked in his rear view mirror and saw her round face turned to the window. Her blue eyes were still, like two searchlights turned towards a wall and forgotten. Alice had been quiet for the last ten minutes and hadn't moved since he last looked at her.
("Fly in from some middle of nowhere town, pay out the nose for an Uber to some shack in the middle of the swamps and wetlands, dressed like...like..."), Joel thought, struggling to place where she would belong in what she was wearing.
Her dress was a deep sapphire velvet with short, puffy sleeves and a hem that touched the top of her knees. It had a square neck deep enough to make Joel wonder if her tits would fall out. A jet black corset was taunt around her rib cage.
("Well wherever people dress like whatever this is...a swamp isn't it.")
Joel put his eyes and his mind back on the road as best as he could. The speedometer climbed close to 80 miles an hour. Alice either didn't notice or didn't care.
("The faster I'm done this fare, the faster I can get the next ride and forget all about Alice. She's just another face in the crowd.")
Exit right in 35 miles, ETA 51 minutes.
--------------------
Alice closed the door of the silver SUV. She opened the back hatch and pulled out her luggage; a trunk that was cut in half horizontally, held together with two claps on each long side and a clasp apiece on either end; a black leather duffel bag full of various recording equipment; and a tote bag which held a small battalion of beauty supplies and interesting gadgets that Alice couldn't seem to stop thinking about during her ride here.
Her driver pulled away so swiftly after she closed the trunk that Alice thought she slammed the door hard enough to get the car rolling. She remained there, standing, staring at the dust raised by the tires, thinking everything and nothing at all.
She bent over to get the handle for the trunk (Joel was right; one of her tits nearly did fall out of the dress). She stood up looking at the walkway under her feet and the wide building it led to.
It was a log cabin as large as a hotel. There were no windows. The only opening was a grand set of wooden doors, covered in carvings of wildlife and fauna. The building was surrounded by thin trees and miniature lakes of mud. The cabin itself, however, was on a platform supported by metal columns buried in the soft earth. It was an uncanny view; most swamp cabins are small, shoddy shacks with withering boards, rusted nails, and patches of moss, but this one was massive, well-constructed, and pristine.
Alice fixed her dress. Satisfied, she strolled up to the double doors. Her vacation was about to begin.
--------------------
Her check-in took twenty minutes. The old gentleman who confirmed her room reservation also doubled as her orientation to the facility. He spoke with the ease and clarity brought by repeating the same thing to hundreds (maybe even thousands) of first-time guests. Meal times, room service options, safety guidelines, special events, questions, answers, and more, endlessly rolled off of his tongue to best enlighten his new tenant of all that was available to them.
Alice listened with unwavering attention. What she had fantasized about for months on end was finally happening. She responded to his questions (yes, I would like a reminder for the wurm event; no, I want my food delivered to my room; please don't take or forward any calls for me) and asked a few of her own (can I see what you have for rental, and do you offer barter services between guests?).
They conversed, addressed, and scheduled for some time before she was left to unpack in her personal suite. When she was done, her room looked like a true home-away-from-home.
Her trunk was unclasped and assembled as a free-standing open closet. Five equally unique tailored dresses and two Victorian corsets hung from a bar inside of the top lid. An assortment of folded clothes sat in the bottom.
Many different trinkets and tools sat on the surface of the doublewide dresser. A Sonic Knife, a R.I.N.G, caps designed to fit on neck and limb stumps, a few single-function division bracelets, a cluster of wifi/USB cameras, and a Polaroid camera were all present, just to name a few.
The vanity in the room received similar attention with two cameras of its own and a smattering of different makeups and fragrances all around the mirror. Most of these products were recognizable name-brand beauty supplies. The remaining few were rare and had ties to either alchemy or magic.
Her bag of recording equipment was emptied, thrown into a corner, and forgotten. Her purse sat on the bed, still holding the few things Alice was willing to barter away. And Alice herself was sitting on a chair at her dining table with her hands on a carved wooden cube about two square feet in size. Her last camera was on and recording with a hard cable connection to her laptop.
She lifted the hinged lid with both hands. The top third of the box opened 90 degrees and stopped. The lid felt frozen upright, like she couldn't close it if she wanted to. Alice sat upright to look into the box.
"That's weird, I can't see ANYthing..."
The inside of the wooden cube was completely dark. Alice tilted the box towards the light of the overhead lamp. The light should have been illuminating the bottom, but it still looked nondescript, unchanging, and black. The lid stayed open, as though it were locked in place. Alice let the box settle onto the table.
It was her first rental. The old gentleman had asked her if she wanted an explanation of what it did. She had said no. She said she wanted to be surprised. He said she most certainly would be. But right now she was confused.
"Why can't I SEE in it? What is it made of?"
Alice put her palms on the sides of the box and slid it towards her. She straightened her back and leaned her head forward for a closer look.
"There's no reflection...like it is eating the light..."
She brought her face deeper and deeper, waiting for the point where her eyes would finally recognize what she was looking at. Alice's head sank in until her neck touched the lower lip of the box.
"I STILL can't see what it LOOKS like in here. Is it black, or is it someth-"
*WHAM*
Alice jumped in reaction to the incredibly loud noise. After a second of shock, she relaxed. She took one last look at the nothing in the box and moved to sit upright again.
("What...that sound?")
Alice wanted to say that out loud, but she didn't hear herself when she said it. She didn't feel her mouth make the words either. And the lights were on, right? Why couldn't she see the room? Only the box was this dark.
("The box.")
Alice's hands could still feel the box. She slid them up its sides, over the top edge, and across the lid.
("The box...is closed?")
("My head...in the...")
The pieces started to click together for Alice.
("The sound...the lid...")
Alice lifted her hands away from the box and placed them high on her chest. Her fingertips touched the space between her collarbones. Her hands squirmed at a crawl up her neck, like they were scared of what they would find but had no choice but to look.
("It closed...the sound...on my neck")
Alice's hands confirmed her disjointed thoughts; the box had beheaded her. The loud sound she heard must have been the lid snapping shut through her neck.
("I...didn't feel...I'm...my head")
Alice brought her hands away from her neck. She reached in front of her for the box.
("...no head...where...the lid...my")
Her hands were clumsy on the box at first, but Alice slid it close to her and opened it in smooth motions. The lid felt like it was stuck open again.
("Is my...inside the...it closed...my head")
She cradled her head in her hands. The lid remained open as Alice brought it out and set it on the table.
("Blind...still no...put my")
She raised her head with great care. Mere seconds felt like minutes. Alice pressed the severed halves of her neck together.
Alice sat still for about twenty seconds. She didn't know how to describe what it felt like until she looked back on her vacation footage some time later. While waiting for her computer to restart, it came to her. "It was like my brain was rebooting," she said at the time, to nobody at all.
Her eyes fluttered open. She looked at the camera with naive wonder for a moment before a genuine smile burst across her face.
She needed to set up her other cameras.
--------------------
In ten minutes, Alice was back in the chair, sitting at the table. Her armada of cameras were spread around the room, connected through the surprisingly fast wifi in her suite. She was recording clear angles of every place she could go.
("I've been headless before, but this box...I can't think properly when it takes my head away. Its frustrating to put a thought together, let alone a sentence...it makes me feel helpless...")
Alice was staring at the box. Her fingers lifted the lid with delicate, slow precision. It froze open once more.
("...I like that struggle. I like feeling helpless. I crave it. I want it!")
Alice placed her hands palm down on the table. She looked into the unreal darkness of the box and smiled. She lowered her head into the box, gazing straight into the nothingness, until her neck was resting on the bottom edge again.
"Take it! Take my head from my shoulders! Make me a mindless-"
*WHAM*
("...bimbo...mindless...my head")
Alice leaned back with her arms folded against themselves and squeezing her tits together, her palms turned upwards, her fingers curling in, her head absent from her neck.
("...head is...don't need...gone...the box...eyes are")
Her hands patted and grasped her neck stump. She arched her back, pushing her chest through her arms. Her tits were crammed up and out of the neck of her dress.
("Blind is...hard to...where is the...cut off...took my")
Alice used the table for balance and stood up. She swayed on her feet.
("Standing...balance is...but head...can walk?")
She turned to her right. She put her foot down at an odd angle and stumbled. She would have fallen over if she hadn't kept a hand on the table.
("Walking...hard to...my thoughts...the box...keep it")
Alice stood straight up. She brought one hand up to her neck. Her other arm raised in front of her. She lurched forward a step. Then another. She swayed to her left and fell on her side.
("I'm useless...body can't...no chance...but feels...it's gone")
Alice got her feet under her and kneeled. She brought her hands up to her chest and finally felt that her tits were on display. One hand looked like it was trying to put them back in the dress. The other was holding her tit out, massaging it and teasing her nipple.
("Alone...I can...feels so")
Alice pulled the dress off of her shoulders. She lifted her tits over the velvet and dropped them.
("My tits...so turned...can't think...touch my")
She leaned forward and began to crawl on her hands and knees. Her hand would pat the ground in front of her a few times to make sure her path was clear before she brought herself forward. She repeated this over and over for every move ahead.
("My head...away from...longer time...brainless...feels so")
Alice kept forward at a snail's pace, her tits jiggling and swaying as her hands repeatedly patted down the empty floor. From time to time she would lean too far left or right, changing her course by unseen degrees. Her right hand struck something. Alice ran her hands on it, trying to figure out what it was.
("Where am...is this...trunk of...my closet...poles and")
Alice's headless body grabbed the poles of her free-standing closet. She went from kneeling to one knee, one knee to crouching, crouching to a bow with her hands still on the poles, all at a slow and stumbling pace. She nearly fell twice.
("So helpless...head gone...can't stand...my bed...where am...so wet...")
Alice brought both hands to the same pole with a white-knuckle grip. Her knees were together in an 'I-have-to-pee' position. She leaned forward, resting her bare neck on the pole she held.
("My brain...mindless...I'm just...living...toy for...lost")
Alice, without an ounce of grace, reached where she thought her bed was. Her fingertips were inches away, but without a head, it could've been miles.
("Must be...unless I...can't tell...just want...down with...and pillows")
Alice reached again. Same outcome. She tried a few times without getting closer. She couldn't tell she was leaning her whole body away from the bed.
("So hot...must rub...just a bitch...headless slut...the bed...box stole...far away")
Alice swung her whole arm in a wide arc. Her hand slipped from the pole. She rotated as she lost her balance, missing the bed once again with her hand, but turning enough to fall back-first against the side of the mattress. She sat where she fell, legs bent and open, hands up and spreading across the bedside.
("Over here...the bed...but my...in the...the table...so far")
She turned herself around and climbed onto the bed. Her knee smacked her purse. She grabbed it and dropped it off the edge. Alice wanted to laugh at herself for expecting to hear the thud of it hitting the ground.
("Mindless idiot...only good...warm fuck...don't deserve...head again")
Alice laid on her back. Her hips and legs gyrated into her right hand, already past her dress and in her panties. Her left hand grasped her tits and neck stump in fluid, lingering motions.
("Must come...horny and...earn head...don't deserve...don't need...ever again...but it...my head")
Alice writhed in passion on the blanket. Her chest rose and fell. The muscles in her thighs tightened and relaxed. Even her neck stump was contracting, as though she was trying to swallow.
("My head...forever?...but then...truly helpless...fine without...head again")
The permeating waves of pleasure rolled through Alice. Her orgasm was coming. She grabbed her neck stump with her palm down where her head once was. Her other hand was a blurred wave on her pussy. Her hips started to buck forward involuntarily.
("Fuck me...it feels...amazing without...oh damn...might never...head is...the box...lock it")
Her orgasm lasted nearly a minute. The waves of pleasure and her fantasies kept her rolling and shuddering. Alice was flat on the bed when it ended. Her position resembled someone making a snow angel; legs spread out, her arms palm up and at her sides. Her tits shifted slightly at each large breath Alice took in. How or why she was breathing was something that never occurred to her. Her 'mind' in this condition was preoccupied with fantasy, not logic.
("No head...best orgasm...my life...but still...deserve to...head back?...not enough...can lock...worthless...fuck doll...earn head...or lose...forever...deserve it")
Alice rolled over. She dropped her arm off the side of the bed and found her purse. She sat up, fixed her dress to cover herself up, and started to rummage through her bag.
("Finally use...lock box...keep head...until I...or never...be mindless...helpless to...get back")
She pulled a small metal rectangular panel the size of a matchbox out of her purse. She used both hands to feel every inch of it to be sure it was what she was looking for. She took it and shoved it into the front of her dress under her tit. Alice got up. With the bed as her support and guide, she made her way towards the table in shambling steps.
("The box...must give...he will...then I...stuck headless")
Alice bumped into the table. The camera and the box shifted from the hit. Her hands patted down the table until they found the box.
("My head...only for...gone again...impatient whore...be helpless")
She opened the box, pulled out her head, and planted it back on her neck with force. Twenty seconds crawled by as her head reactivated. She blinked rapidly and looked for the front desk phone. Alice jogged over to it and called the old gentleman. He answered on the first ring. Alice explained what she wanted. He listened, asked a question, thanked her, listened again. When she finished, he repeated it all back to her. She smiled as she agreed, then hung up the phone.
"This is going to be unbelievable! Oh my god my head, being headless, that struggling feeling!"
Alice was practically skipping back to the box. She picked it up and brought it to her door. She set it down on a shelf next to a coffee maker provided by the hotel just three feet from the door.
"I have the box," Alice said. "...I have my head, I have the lock..."
She slid her hand around her tit and grabbed the metal rectangle. She placed it on the counter next to the box. At that moment, there was a knock at her door. She looked through the peephole and saw the old gentleman on the other side.
"HI, SIR!" Alice exclaimed. "JUST A MINUTE!"
She saw the man give her a thumbs up, then put his hands behind his back to wait.
Alice turned to the open box once more. In a flash, her head was back inside. She whispered to herself as she waited for the box to snap shut.
"Once the lid closes, I'll be headless again. Then I'll put the lock on the outs-"
*WHAM*
("Edge...I'll lift...and open...then...did it...I headless?")
Alice had not been aware she was beheaded for about fifteen seconds. Her hands searched out and found the metal panel. She put in on the front of the box, half on the base and half on the lid.
("Then press...locks in...can't remove")
Alice pressed her right thumb flat on the metal. She felt a slight heat go across it as it read her fingerprint. Three heat spikes signaled to her thumb that her scan was accepted. When she moved her hand, the panel stayed in place. She tried to open the lid with as much force as she could. The box stayed shut. The panel locked the two halves in place.
("Only I...open box...but it...taken away...no head...slut toy...far away...helpless until...get stuck")
Alice used the door handle to steady herself. She lifted the box onto her chest and opened the door. She somehow stayed balanced as she held the box out of the doorway. She only waited a second before she felt someone hold her wrist. The box was lifted out of her hands.
("He took...with my...he can't...has my...locked in")
Alice felt another hand wrap a bracelet around her wrist. It was a snug elastic with a round bump in it. She felt someone press the bump. It activated with a short but noticeable vibration.
("Was that...gentleman who...my head...who took...dont know...has the...head in")
The box was gone. The touch on her wrists was gone. Her head, trapped in the box and handed off to who she hoped was the old gentleman, was gone. Just as Alice requested.
("Is he...back to...where will...head be...safe place?")
In her excitement, Alice had forgotten to ask what he would do with the box. She told him she would give him her rental, on a few conditions. First, she wanted it back in three hours. No sooner, no later. Second, no one else was to use or rent it. Third, she would be notified he was back at her door with one of the bracelet devices he had shown her during orientation. Finally, he was not to return to her room if she activated the bracelet.
She didn't tell him what would be in the box. Alice assumed he would know once he saw her headless body. But now the box (and her head) could be anywhere.
("Someone takes...then my...get lost...never have...dumb slut")
She felt the door handle. Alice stepped back in to her room and pulled the door shut. She leaned against it, feeling her empty neck.
("Taken far...my head...can't get...until he...has my")
Alice wriggled and writhed against the door. What started as a headless woman's broken thoughts and fantasies mere minutes ago were already her reality. Most of her planning was done while she didn't have a brain. She had her head for under a minute before she removed it from her shoulders again. She could have thought about consequences when she had it, but her mind was on auto-pilot. She had wanted her head taken from her as far and as fast as she could.
("So far...where my...the box...stuck like...can't ask...head back")
Alice took a tentative step forward. One hand grazed the wall beside her. Her walk was slow but steady and balanced. She stepped towards where she thought the table was and left the wall behind her. Alice was surprised to find herself walking almost upright.
("Am I...to walking...a head...was taken...keep it?...they sell...destroy it...then I")
Alice took a bad step and tripped into the dresser. She fell to her knees with one arm on top of the furniture. Her other hand was positioned to break her fall.
("Still can't...don't deserve...head on...stay empty...no choice...have my...locked box")
Alice lowered herself to her hands and knees. She crawled around the room at her own pace, trying to figure out where things were and how to get around. Her thoughts bumped onward, fantasizing about what happened to her head after she gave it away.
("But if...open it...take my...use it...my mouth...wouldn't know")
("Left out...stole the box...ran off...never see...can't open...bury it...lost forever")
("A stranger...the box...already left...took it...own hands...will destroy...smash my...never feel")
Alice's hands reached up to her neck stump every minute or so, reaffirming her head was gone. She shambled around on all fours, on her feet, and as she leaned on furniture. She let her emotions of each moment show in her body language. Her cameras caught everything but her half-thoughts and ideas.
("Not here...never comes...happy with...stuck without...will he?")
She did and did not want the man to return with her head. She did and did not want the box to be lost or misplaced while her head was in it. She did and did not want someone to steal the box and never return. She did and did not want someone to break the lock and face fuck her head and never know. She did and did not want someone to obliterate her head.
Alice did and did not want to remain headless like this forever.
("My head...permanent...headless slut...never see...talk or...forever helpless...who would...a stump")
Alice remained like this for three whole hours. She panicked over her fear of never getting her head back multiple times, fell more often, and molested herself almost constantly. She flipped between topless and covered randomly, but her corset and her dress stayed on, just like her cameras. Alice managed to crawl, walk, stumble and wobble around the suite multiple times, sometimes pretending she was searching for a head. She made use of her Polaroid camera (after finding it by accident) and took a number of headless selfies.
Alice felt deep in her heart that the start of her vacation was better than anything she could have dreamed. It was going to be hard for anything to top how she felt now.
*vvrrrrrrrtt, vvrrrrrrtt, vvrrrrrrtt*
("Bracelet is...then he...with my...is safe...the box")
Alice rolled herself to the edge of the bed and stood up. Her legs moved with confident purpose. Her hands moved effortlessly from wall to chair to table to keep her balanced. She had learned how to navigate her room without a head.
("Don't need...can live...maybe give...someone...be headless")
Alice opened her door. She stood with her chest high and her hands extended and open to receive.
("Be looking...tits now...never know...head in...he has")
She felt a hand slide the elastic bracelet off of her wrist. For a few long seconds, nothing happened.
("Where is...is my...box back...my head")
Then Alice felt the wood of the box and its weight in her hands. She cradled it against her chest.
("Still in...safe and...put it...my neck?")
She turned into her room and placed the box on the counter by the door. She reached for the handle and hit the door instead; whoever gave her the box had closed her door behind her.
("Nice of...to help...woman...a head")
Alice placed her thumb on the lock. It read her print, beeped, then fell clattering to the counter. She opened the box, her fantasy thoughts still flying.
("My head...is it...box or...it out?")
She slid her hands into the box and felt the sides of her face. Her head was safe. Alice lifted it out. She took a moment to get the right grip on it, then reconnected the halves of her neck. Twenty empty seconds droned on before Alice's face lit up. She patted her head, almost in disbelief that she had one on her shoulders again.
"My head is safe and sound...oh wow...that was...wait, what's this?"
A piece of paper was folded in half and taped to the front of the box. Alice pulled it off and opened it. It was the full information sheet for her rental.
"It's a 'snapjaw chest,' makes sense...it only costs HOW much? Oh my god I need to fill this out..."
Alice completed the form before she could say 'vacation' and called the front desk again. After three minutes and a credit charge, the snapjaw chest in her room became her property. She was so giddy with excitement that she rambled out loud about her good fortune. She did so while preparing herself to use the chest again.
"I mean it was so cheap and it made me feel so good, so of course I had to buy it, this thing is incredible! How have I never heard about these before? The way it leaves you after it takes your head is like nothing else..."
She sat at the table with her chair pulled out. She set the box down near the table's edge. Alice continued talking, even gesturing with her hands, as she dipped her head face first into her snapjaw chest.
"I mean, you can't even think properly after this removes your head. I didn't even mind! I felt like I could be headless the rest of my life and not regret it. That's worth my money. Just imagine if I DID lose my head permanently! What would I do if-"
*WHAM!*
("...was taken?...I wouldn't...to find...without my...get another...whose head...never have...again...don't want...head anyways...")
Alice continued gesturing and moving like she was speaking out loud. She once again did not know she had been beheaded.
("I could...it off...crush my...into pieces...not feel...head destroyed...box can...hidden away...shipped away...weeks without...neck without...dirty slut...head sold...gone forever.")
Alice was in for a very long and rewarding vacation.