I laid my back against the door behind me, taking long deep breaths as the coolness of my air conditioning washed over me. It was only 3 flights of stairs, but there was always something about the rush of finally getting home and getting to just relax and unwind that set my brain and my body into overdrive.

But I was home now. I was in my sanctuary, and finally I could relax, my brain releasing some much needed endorphins as I could feel my body decompress.

I put my backpack and my shoes by the front door. I wouldn’t need them again until Monday, but the routine of putting them there now meant I wouldn’t be scrambling then. Same went with the keys in their bowl, my wallet next to that, and finally placing my phone on my dresser.

The first thing to go were my pants. Most women in the office wore dresses or blouses, but I would much rather have the pocket space. And besides, they made my ass look bigger, so I’d say I’m getting the better deal. I could feel the hair on my legs stand up slightly as the air conditioning hit my still pretty warm skin. This heat wave was unbearable, but at least my AC hadn’t gone out yet like last year.

Next thing to go was my button down shirt, my body feeling the sweet relief of cool air with each button. As I finally reached my chest, the topmost buttons barely needed to be touched to get loose.

I looked at myself in my full body mirror. I know it’s kind of weird to find yourself attractive, but I still felt that by most rational standards, I was at least an 8/10… Okay probably closer to a 7/10, but still. I had decently sized breasts, a pretty face, not too skinny, not too tall. And even standing here in my plain gray panties, my comfiest non-sports bra, and socks, I felt like I could totally rock somebody’s world.

‘If only there was a somebody,’ I sighed to myself, balancing on my left foot and bending my right leg up so I could start taking off my socks. They were a pair of Hello Kitty socks my Mom had bought as a stocking stuffer a few years ago. They were definitely reaching the end of their lifespan, but I didn’t have the heart to let go of them just yet.

As I pulled off my left sock, my free hand reached behind me, and easily undid the clasp on my bra, my breasts sagging slightly now that they had no support. As I pulled it off, my nipples hardened from the cool breeze of my air conditioner, I bit my lip as I looked at them, knowing this would be easier now then later when they had softened again.

I grabbed my left nipple between my thumb and forefinger, looking seductively at myself in the mirror as I teased it. God, I looked so hot. My heart racing, I grinned, knowing what was about to come next, as I gave the nipple a twist to the left and pulled.

There wasn’t any sort of noise as my nipple and areola came loose in my hand. In fact, I hadn’t felt anything beyond the initial twist. The piece of flesh in my hand almost resembled a suction cup, perfectly contoured to have fit my now bare breast. I placed it on my dresser right next to my phone, before unceremoniously grabbing my other nipple and repeating the process.

I stared at myself in the mirror. I was only in my panties, but for all intents and purposes I was still decent. It was strange though, no matter how often I looked at myself this way it still seemed sort of alien to me. Without my nipples, my breasts always seemed completely useless. With nipples, they were breasts, a sex icon beloved by all. Without them, they were just some fatty tissue that grew out weirdly because that’s how people are supposed to look.

That wouldn’t be the case for long though, as I finally removed the last shred of clothes I was wearing, my pussy glistening slightly in the light as my panties fell to the ground. I smiled, looking pleased at myself in the mirror, as I kicked my panties and the rest of my discarded clothes to the side near my laundry hamper. Actually putting them in there would be a future me problem.

Right now, I wanted to go scrolling. I picked up my phone and laid down on my bed, letting the cool air circulate around me as I scrolled through my timeline. Office work was one of the worst things ever for someone as terminally online as myself. I used to do my best to just scroll for a couple of minutes when I had free time, but that had gotten slightly out of hand, so now scrolling was exclusively an at home activity.

It was during the video on the leaf sheep that I reached up and pinched my nose. Pulling on it there was the usual bit of resistance, but a quick twist to the left and then to the right and it came off of my face as though it were never attached in the first place.

I stared at the squishy piece of flesh between my fingers. It always seemed to cause me so many headaches, especially during allergy season. Frankly, I’d get rid of it if I didn’t think it would draw too much attention.

I unleashed my frustrations out on my former nose, the malleable flesh unnaturally flattening in my hand. I set it down on my bedside table, the obnoxious thing slowly returning to its normal shape like a stress ball. I wasn’t paying attention to that though, I had already switched over to SnapChat.

There were the usual S’s filled out in darkness, a couple of feet pics in exchange for some potential dates in the future. For my bestie I did flip the camera over, making the cutest face that I possibly could, really accentuating how adorable I was without a nose and writing, ‘Might take it all off tonight, wbu?’

She responded a couple of snaps later. Her lovely chocolate skin perfectly reflects the light of her room on a completely flat and featureless face. Her head was tilted to the side, her hand on her cheek in an expression that perfectly mimicked how jokingly judgemental her words were: ‘You’re only that far into it? Catch up!!’

I rolled my eyes, although she was definitely right that I was enjoying my sweet time tonight. I turned off my phone, placing it next to my nose on the nightstand before getting up. I walked over to the bathroom, opening up one of my wash cabinet drawers.

Inside, neatly stacked on top of eachother were about 10 week-long pill organizers. I grabbed the two of them that were mostly empty, save for the guitar picks I put in the Saturday spot, and headed towards the living room.I flopped down on the couch, placing the two organizers on my coffee table and flipping the TV on to the extended YouTube video of an Instagram short I had seen earlier.

Then began what I found the most obnoxious part about this whole routine: the de-nailing.

It wasn’t painful or anything, just a lot of hassle to get each individual nail to disconnect. It was my Bestie who let me on to the fact that a guitar pick was the perfect width to get in under the nail and press the release latch. I could usually do the bigger fingers fine, but it was when you got to the pinkies, and especially most of the toenails that I used to really struggle on.

Anyways, it takes about 15 minutes and making sure to put the right nail in the right day of the correct Pill Organizer. There wasn’t much of a difference between left and right nails, but let me tell you, you haven’t experienced true discomfort until you’ve accidentally attached an index finger nail to a ring finger. I usually do toes first, and then fingers. I don’t know, there’s something about looking at my nailless hands that makes my skin crawl.

Luckily though I usually don’t have to deal with it for very long.

When the video finished, I shut off the TV, grabbed my now filled toenail and fingernail organizers and headed back to the bathroom, placing them on the counter for now. I looked at my noseless face in the mirror, admiring how cute I looked before leaning in, holding one of my eyes open like I was taking out a contact lens.

Which I was, a thin clearish contact lens with my adorable brown iris painted on it. I looked at the mirror at my pure white eye, still fully able to see out of it, and only barely able to tell where it was facing as it spun around alongside my normal eye. My brown contact lens case was still on the counter from this morning, so in it went, followed shortly after by its counterpart.

I looked at my new reflection, my pure white eyes staring back at me. Often when I did this, I remember the one Halloween party at the office where I went as a ghoul. They were so impressed with my makeup, especially my eyes. Of course if they only knew that all I had done was not put in any contacts that morning, I’m sure they would have been much more scared than impressed.

I leaned in closer to the mirror, focusing my attention next on my eye lashes. I pinched the lower set and gently pulled on them. My eyelids pulled along with them, but the adhesive wasn’t that strong and they very quickly came loose. My upper eyelashes followed the same pattern, and both sets were soon deposited in the trash.

I had long made the switch over from using faux-hair follicles to the normal synthetic eyelashes you can find in stores. While it was slightly more expensive to have to buy a bulk pack every month or so, I just found it too annoying to keep track and clean the faux-hair lashes.

In contrast, the faux-hair eyebrows are much easier to keep track of and maintain. I gently pinch the inner corner of my left eyebrow, and with about the amount of effort it takes to rip off a bandaid, I was holding onto a little clear strip with my eyebrow on it. I turned the faucet on to hot, letting it heat up as I pulled off my right eyebrow in the same fashion.

I poured some soap into the basin of the sink, stoppering the bottom and letting it fill up. The last thing left to prep was my hair, which was pretty easy, given all I had to do was reach up, grab some of it near my forehead, and pull it off like the wig it was.

With the basin full, I turned off the tap and began my cleaning process. I started with my nails, opening up only the Sunday door on the organizers, dunking them in and letting the soapy water fill up each container, giving them a good shake to make sure that my nails were getting truly cleaned, and then draining them out through the same door.

My eyebrows were next, and not much needed to be done other than giving them a dunk and soak for half a minute, and then transferring them to a clean towel.

My hair was a bit more of an involved process. It got the same dunk and soak as my eyebrows, but after that I then drained the sink and washed it off under more warm water, spreading out my left hand to try to fake the form of it being on my head as I worked some special shampoo into it with my right. After rinsing all of that off, I put it onto the mannequin head I kept near my sink so that it could dry overnight.

Confirming that there wasn’t any water left over in my nail organizers, I closed them up and put them back into the drawer where they belong. Looking back at the mirror, the only recognizable landmarks on my head were my ears, mouth, and two ghostly white eyes, although of course that wouldn’t last for much longer.

I dug a finger underneath my left eyelid. Definitely an odd experience and one I wouldn’t recommend for most ordinary people, but it was the only way I could get my eyes out after all. Hooking my finger underneath, I pulled out my left eye, the squishy white orb soon accompanied by its twin as I repeated the process with my other eye.

Despite the fact I no longer had any connection with my eyes, I still had a surprisingly good view of my bathroom. I walked over to the closet, and there on the third shelf was a large glass jar of a strange blue liquid, floating within which were several dozen similar white orbs. I deposited my eyes inside, closing the closet and returning to the mirror.

The skin where my eyes had previously been, sensing that I no longer had them in, had sealed shut, meaning that now other than my mouth, my face was completely blank.

That obviously wouldn’t last for very long, as I pressed a finger into both corners of my lips. I playfully made myself smile, before rotating both fingers in a counterclockwise motion, my lips maintaining their smile as they rotated impossibly with them. After two full rotations, I could hear the faint hiss of air signifying that my mouth had disconnected, and tugging on my top lip, a tube of flesh slowly extended out of my head, releasing from it with a ‘pop’!

As the flesh lined crevice on my face where my former mouth was stored filled out, I looked at the tube in my hand. Even with the fleshy outer shell, I could feel the hardened metal shell that protected the inside of my mouth while it was disconnected. I turned it around in my hands, looking at the cute pinkish lips, still frozen in a smile, placing it against my forehead and giving myself a kiss, silently giggling to myself as I placed it on the counter. I once tried to pry it open to see what happened to my throat when it was disconnected from my body like this, but unfortunately it’s locked pretty tight.

I placed my mouth tube down on the counter top, the cheeks on my non-existent face blushing slightly as I got to my favorite part of the process, my hands sliding down my silky smooth body towards my privates.

If I still had my mouth, it probably would have been making all sorts of noises as I slipped my right index finger into my feminine opening, a warm need filling my body that I pushed past as my left index finger entered as well. I felt along the inner lining, my fingers trembling a little bit as I stimulated myself, until I finally located the two release buttons, and with a similar twist, my other set of lips began to rotate.

The pent up energy was always tough to deal with from this process. I really wish that it would just immediately disappear like every other sensory input when it gets disconnected from my body, but unfortunately horniness is a pleasure even a person without privates can feel.

The faint hiss of air brought some relief (not much) as my pussy fully disconnected from my body, and gently pulling on them, I slowly removed a similarly sized tube of flesh from my privates, my pink lips blushing back at me as a small bit of fluid dripped out of them. The similarly left divot sealed up as I placed the tube next to the tube that had my mouth.

I sometimes wonder if they were functional while detached from me and if I were dating someone, which would be used more? I suppose it depends on who exactly I was dating, and if they were even comfortable with the idea in the first place.

Oh, and before you ask, yes, they are interchangeable.

My duties for the night were almost done, in fact it was as I was heading back to the bedroom to grab my nose and nipples that I finished off the last step of pulling off my ears. Not much to that,  really. Just four quick tugs in a row to the lobe and they come off rather easily.

After gathering everything, I take my fleshy goods back to the bathroom, opening up the largest door on the cabinet, revealing inside a refrigerator like device.

Opening up that door revealed the turned off UVs of my disinfection chamber. Most of the time a good wash was all my various pieces needed, but I was supposed to use this thing at least once a week for 12 hours to make sure nothing nasty developed on my biosynthetic parts. My nose, ears, and nipples all are placed rather haphazardly on the lower tray. For my lips though, there are two specific holes that I insert them into so that their insides can be disinfected as well.

I closed the door, setting the timer on the device to 12 hours, before closing the cabinet completely, heading back to my bedroom, now nothing more than the abstract shape of a person in flesh.

I walked over to my walk-in closet, already picking at my belly button, grabbing the knot between my fingers. I began lifting it up, the sound of a zipper being undone echoing throughout my mostly quiet apartment as I pulled it up along my body. My flesh parted, revealing underneath white plastic, and as the zipper reached my forehead, I pulled on the opening, sliding my skin back like a onesie.

As the flesh fell to my feet, I deposited it into the laundry hamper with others of similar skin tones. I think one more week and I’d have to do a proper wash of them all, but the decision to buy that one in bulk had paid off well.

I walked my work unit over to its charging station, passing by my male shell and my other female shell. It had a slightly smaller bust size, but was also shorter and with significantly wider hips, so it seemed to grab more attention. I’ve been eyeing another shell for my birthday this year, but unfortunately my closet is already too cramped with three charging stations.

I turn around and step backwards onto the charging station, feeling a slight shock as the metal pins of the station make contact with the connectors on my feet. I do a quick mental check, making sure that my shell is indeed charging, before sending the open signal out.

With a depressurizing hiss, a seam forms in the white plastic of my shell’s chest cavity, shortly followed by the two halves opening up like a set of double doors, finally letting me take off my disguise.

A gooey blue tendril shoots out, sliding down the white plastic of my shell’s leg, as soon the rest of my mass follows, oozing my blue formless body onto the hardwood floor. As the last of my body pools at my shell’s feet, the chest cavity closes. I glide my way over to my bedroom, my body sliding along the floor easily and leaving a slightly translucent trail as I hop my way up onto my bed, some tendrils stretching out and grabbing my phone off of the nightstand, opening up the snap from my bestie.

There she is in all her red gooey glory. ‘Want to grab drinks tomorrow?’

I angle my phone, trying to get all of my body in frame, my typing significantly quicker now that I wasn’t hampered by my cover. ‘Only if they’re the purple kind ;)’

It’s so freeing after a week of pretending to be human to take off the disguise and enjoy a night to myself.