Wigging Out
Part 2- The Devil's in the Details
Warning: Adult Content
Three days after the Halloween Party, Laura and Derek were still experimenting with different wigs. They had long since moved past the clown wigs which had been so successful (both during and after the party), and now, in the darkness of Derek's apartment, they were having a little party of their own, just the two of them. Derek was leaving on a two-week business trip starting the very next day, and so Laura had decided to make his last evening at home a memorable one.
She laughed as Derek spun her around, kicking an empty wine bottle out of the way as he did so. He pinned her up against the wall, kissing her roughly. She tossed her head back, moaning, then leaned forward and kissed his neck, gently poking his skin with her fangs.
Laura was wearing a wig with black-and-white streaks, and her smooth skin glistened snow white in the dim room. Her lips were perfectly shaped and blood red, and her petite ears were lengthened, emerging from her hair and narrowing to a point about three inches up. Two fangs peeked out from her mouth as she smiled and snuggled her nose against Derek's.
"I like this wig," she grinned. "I wunner if I can turn you…" she said. Her voice was slurred, thanks to a few glasses of wine, some shots of rum, and whatever else had been in the pantry.
"I'd like to see ya try," he grinned, displaying his own fangs. "I bet my werewolf blood would totally, totally win." Derek wasn't faring much better, although his extra body mass meant he wasn't slurring quite as bad. He was mostly human, but his brown hair was shaggy, and it extended into a beard that grew all the way down to his neck. His muscles bulged, so picking up Laura-- delicate undead princess that she currently was-- presented no challenge at all.
A clock chimed in the corner, and Derek glanced over. "2 am. Darn it. Just when the night was getting interesting…"
She laughed, her voice even more musical than normal. "One mor' round." She poked his nose playfully. "Then we'll put ya t' bed."
"One more round," he said. "At least. But I get to pick. After all, I'm the one who's leaving for two weeks. You'll probably have all sorts of fun while I'm gone." He stroked her elongated ear, and Laura arched her back, pressing her perky breasts and deep red nipples into his chest.
"Ooh, you know it, Sweetie. Maybe I'll invite th' football team over…"
"Ha ha." Derek kissed her forehead as he carried her to the bed, where a pile of wigs lay nearby on the floor. After the Halloween party where they had both been clowns, they had made their way back to wig store and indulged themselves. A little bit. Only two dozen or so different wigs… the owner had rung up the sales with a gleam in his eye.
Derek fished through the pile of wigs. "Take your wig off, then close your eyes. The last one'll be a surprise." He fished out Laura's devil wig, with long black hair and two dark red horns sticking out from the sides. Then he took his werewolf wig off, feeling a a pang of sadness as his muscles dwindled. But he wanted to be himself for the last round of the night.
Then he slipped the new wig on Laura's head. He watched, entranced, as her skin turned red, and a tail grew out from just above her butt until it was about three feet long.
Laura opened her eyes and ran her hands over her silky smooth, cherry-colored skin. "Mmm…I like this one," she said.
"Me too," said Derek, grinning. "Wanted to go back to a classic for my send-off."
Laura pulled him closer. He leaned down and kissed her, and the conversation gave way to sounds of a more primitive nature.
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Derek's cell phone clattered, vibrating against the headboard of the bed, and he slowly opened his eyes. It was dark in the room, and he rubbed his head, nursing a mild hangover. Beside him, Laura was buried under the covers. He grinned. She slept like that a lot, almost like a hamster burrowing into its bedding.
Beside him, the phone buzzed again. He yawned, shook his head, and picked it up. "Hello?" He glanced at his arm, and realized with a start that his skin was red. He was still wearing the wig from last night. He yanked it off his head as the voice on the other end of the line spoke.
"Ah. Good morning, Derek."
He inhaled sharply as his mind snapped into wakefulness. "Good morning, Mr. Monroe."
"I just wanted to make sure you're ready for the trip this morning. We're counting on your team in New York."
He rubbed his eyes, seeking out the clock that lay on the dresser on the other side of the room. Slowly, it came into focus. 5:57. He was supposed to have been awake half an hour ago.
"Yes, sir," he said cheerily to his boss. "I'm confident we can close the deal. Just getting ready to leave now."
"Good. Call me when you get to New York."
"Yes, sir."
He hung up and cursed, quietly getting out of the bed so as not to disturb Laura. He had meant to set his alarm for 5:30, but had apparently forgot. Now he had about ten minutes to get dressed, get his suitcase in the car, and leave. If his boss hadn't called… he shivered at the thought of what missing the plane would have meant.
The pile of blankets that was Laura shifted. "Mmmm… what time is it?"
"Almost 6," he whispered, leaning down and kissing the blanket. "I enjoyed last night, but I gotta go. See you in a couple weeks." He pulled on his shirt. "Don't get into any trouble."
"Mmmhmm," the blanket responded, and he saw her form shift, curling tighter under the blanket. For a moment, he envied her work-from-home job.
A few minutes later he was out the door, heading toward the airport. It wasn't until he had actually boarded the plane, and had time to think for a moment, that his eyes went wide, and he remembered the particulars of the previous night.
"Oh, crap," he muttered.
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Laura woke up, slowly groaning and opening her eyes just enough to see that the room was no longer dark. She remembered Derek rushing out at Ungodly Early o'clock, but apparently she had drifted back to sleep after that. Memories of the previous night trickled back into her head, of the sex, of the orgasms, of the wigs, of the experiments… she chuckled softly to herself, and smiled.
Sunlight drifted through the cracks in the blinds, and she wondered what time it was. The advantage of being a freelance writer was that she didn't have to worry about going into work, but she still had deadlines to meet. She sat up in bed, covers still draped over her shoulders, and stretched her arms and yawned, then rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Her stomach rumbled; last night's romp had been particularly energetic, and she had fallen asleep right afterward. Now she was famished.
She yawned again, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She noticed that her skin was red, as red as a coke can, and sat there for a moment, blinking in befuddlement before realizing that she must have fallen asleep with a wig on. She bent over, looked down at her feet, and saw two jet-black, cloven hooves in place of her regular feet. She grinned. The devil wig had been one of her favorites since she had first tried it on in the store, three days ago on Halloween. It wasn't just that it looked sexy, but it made her feel sexier, too, like a succubus come to life.
She got up slowly, stretching as she did so, arching her back and thrusting her breasts into the air. The room was cool, and she felt goosebumps on her skin. Rubbing her arms to warm up, she realized she had fallen asleep totally naked. Not that it was really a surprise, considering the night she and Derek had just had. She looked down at the swell of her breasts, and saw that her nipples, which were the same shade of jet black as her hooves, had hardened in the cool air of the room. She ran her thumb over her nipple, enjoying the sensation, and realized she was still feeling horny. Derek and his stupid business trip… it was going to be a long two weeks.
She made her way into the bathroom, and looked at herself in the mirror. She was bleary eyed, and the black devil wig had turned into a mess of slept-in hair. It looked incredibly real. Heck, it even behaved like real hair. She noticed her eyes were a deep shade of reddish-brown. From a distance they looked brown, but if she leaned in close to the mirror they were definitely tinged with red. She smiled, baring perfect white teeth with short but distinct fangs in place of her canine teeth. They looked like vampire's teeth. Her horns, which were part of the wig but felt like they were growing right out of her head, extended three or four inches from the top of her head, one on the left and one on the right. They were black with a tinge of red to them. She touched them, but couldn't feel any sensation in them. She tried wiggling them with her fingers, but they didn't move. For now, they were very much rooted to her head.
Of the wigs she and Derek had bought so far, this one was definitely her favorite. She twisted, glancing at her long, red tail, which ended with an arrow-like point, and marveled at how it looked to have a tail growing from the base of her spine. She hadn't even noticed it while sleeping, it felt so natural. She could make it twitch, but not much else. Maybe with practice she could control it better.
She looked in the mirror again and ran a hand through her hair. She needed to take off the wig and take a shower, but maybe afterward she would put it back on and stay like this for a while. After all, with Derek gone, she had the apartment to herself.
She looked at her reflection one last time in the mirror, then reached up and pulled on the wig. As usual when removing one of these wigs, there was a moment where it stuck, so she pulled harder, expecting the moment to pass and the wig to slide off, but nothing happened. "Ow," she muttered. She tried again, but only succeeded in making her scalp hurt even more. What the hell? Why wasn't it coming off? She pulled hard on two locks of hair, wincing at the pain, and finally, with a curse, let go and rubbed her head.
The pain had gotten her adrenaline rushing, and she began to think. The only reason it wouldn't come off would be if someone else had put it on her. She thought back to the previous night, and as her memory began to work again, events came rushing back. Near the end of the night, Derek had put a new wig on her, then they had…. wait, back up. Derek had put a wig on her… The voice of the wig shop owner echoed in her head: "Only the person who put the wig on can take it off…"
"SHIT!"
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When Derek was finally able to turn his phone back on, as the plane taxied to the gate at Newark Airport, he was not surprised to see six voice mails waiting from Laura. He didn't even bother to check them, but called her right away.
"Derek?" her voice said. Her voice was a harsh whisper, tinged with hysteria, like she was barely keeping herself under control.
"Um, hey, honey."
"Derek…" she said. "YOU PUT A WIG ON ME LAST NIGHT AND DIDN'T TAKE IT OFF!"
He held the phone away from his ear and winced. "I know, I remembered after I got on the plane… I'm sorry, I'm sorry…. it was the devil wig, wasn't it?"
"Yes!" she yelled. "I'm stuck with red skin, a tail, and hooves! When's the soonest you can get back here?"
"Well, Laura," he hesitated, "I've got meetings every day for the next two weeks to finish the negotiations on this deal. I'm not going to be able to break away."
This time he was smart enough to move the phone away from his ear before Laura shouted. "WHAT? You're gone for two weeks! I can't be stuck like this for two whole weeks! You expect me to leave the house like this?" The phone went quiet. "Get back here as soon as you can. Please. Tell them you're sick. Tell them…"
He hunched over, suddenly aware that he was still sitting in a crowded plane, and had drawn the attention of the woman sitting next to him. "Look, honey, if I do that, I could be fired. Please. We've been working on this deal for months. You can do your job from home, so you'll be okay, right?"
Wincing again, he put his thumb over the speaker to muffle the loudest stream of invective yet. "I'm sorry, honey, and if I could get home at all, I'd be there in a heartbeat. You could come here, but… no, you're right, that pretty obviously wouldn't work. I mean, if airline security is jumpy about Arabs, think how they'll behave toward a devil girl."
"Very funny," she muttered.
"Look. I promise, as soon as I get back I'll make it up to you."
"How?"
"I don't know," he said, "think of something. I'll do whatever you say. Whatever you think is fair." Knowing Laura, she would make it a doozy. He would definitely be regretting that promise later, but he needed to calm her down. Just then, an idea occurred to him. "Look, why you don't you go back to the wig store? The guy there can probably get it off."
"I don't think he makes house calls, Derek."
"So put on some clothes and go out," he said. "You'll just have to drive there and back; it's not like you'll have to mingle in a crowd."
"Yeah," she said, "I suppose you're right. Guess I don't really have a choice, anyway."
"If it works, will you promise to be less mad?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Maybe," she said, a hint of amusement creeping into your voice. "Bring me back something really nice and we might call it even."
He laughed. "Okay, deal. Call me later and let me know how it goes."
"Fine. Bye for now."
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Laura drove down the road, torn between annoyance and embarrassment. She was angry at Derek for being careless, and angry at herself for letting it happen, but mostly she was just embarrassed. Being a clown with basketball-size tits, or a red-skinned succubus, or a purple-haired fairy with antenna and wings, was different when it was just her and Derek in the bedroom. Now, she was out in public. She tried to tell herself that it didn't matter, that if someone glanced at her they'd just think it was a costume, but why on Earth would a grown adult be wearing a costume three days after Halloween?
She had to drive carefully, in case her "foot" slipped off the pedal. With normal human feet and shoes, there was a lot more surface area to work with. With narrow hooves, it was harder. She had already slipped off the brake once, causing her to almost rear-end the car in front of her. That would be the last thing she needed… to have an accident, and have to explain her appearance to the police officer. Not to mention having to stand around while cars passed by, drivers staring at the accident and as a result, at her.
So she drove carefully, heading toward the only person besides Derek who might be able to help: the owner of the wig shop. She felt mildly embarrassed that she had been in his store three times in the past three days and didn't know his name, although in the scheme of things, it ranked fairly low. She pushed it out of her mind and focused on her driving.
At one traffic light, she heard a wolf whistle and a shout from the truck stopped next to her, and blushed. For a moment, she wondered if blushing had any effect on her face at all. The whistle came again, and she turned, smiling weakly at the guy before the light thankfully turned green and she was on her way again.
She studied her dark red fingernails as she gripped the top of the steering wheel, and sighed. She liked this character, but certainly didn't want to be stuck like this for two weeks. In fact, she had a face-to-face meeting with one of her clients next week! Not to mention all the day to day errands she wouldn't be able to do. She grimaced. Hopefully the strange shopkeeper would be able to fix it all.
After about a twenty minute drive through uncomfortably busy streets, ignoring the strange looks she got, she finally made it to the store. Hesitating for a moment, she steeled herself and got out of the car. The strip mall was somewhat busy, although people seemed to be ignoring the wig shop, as if, even in the middle of a busy strip mall, it somehow existed in its own little pocket of the universe.
In the bedroom, she had found the black leather bikini that was part of the devil girl's costume, and had been tossed aside rather quickly last night. But for going out today, she had dressed in jeans and a sweater. It was uncomfortable, mainly because of her tail. She hadn't wanted to cut a hole in her jeans to accommodate it, and as a result her pants bulged awkwardly in the back where her tail stuck out from the base of her spine, and she could feel it rubbing on her leg as she walked. The tip of the tail was particularly sensitive, and she tried to ignore the sensation of it rubbing between her jeans and her leg.
The bell rang, and the same man as before looked up from the book he was reading. He put the book down, took his reading glasses off and smiled. "Welcome back, young lady."
"Hi," she said, suddenly nervous at having to tell him about her and Derek's stupidity. She explained what had happened, trying to gloss over the whole kinky sex part, but she could tell from his wry smile that he knew what had happened.
"So anyway," she finished, "I was hoping you could get it off."
The shopkeeper sighed, and folded his hands, leaning on the table. "I'm sorry, Miss, but I don't think there's anything I can do. Magic is never totally foolproof, after all. Come over here. Let me take a look."
She approached, and tilted her head forward, as he poked and prodded at her scalp, tried to wiggle one of her horns (but only succeeded in wiggling her entire head), and carefully examined her hairline.
"Nope, it looks like you're stuck until your boyfriend gets back from his trip." He leaned back, his expression seeming to soften upon seeing the shock on her face. "It could be worse. There are definitely worse things to be stuck as."
"But…" she pointed at her horns, giving one of them a tug. "How am I supposed to go out like this? I can't just stay inside for two weeks."
"You made it this far, didn't you?" the man winked. "Think of it as an adventure."
"An adventure," she rolled her eyes, "right." She looked at the wigs on the shelves. "Are there any wigs that I could put over this one, so I could at least look normal?" She picked up a blonde wig off the shelf.
The shopkeeper shook his head. "No, you can't overwrite the magic of one wig with another. Besides, even if it worked, you still wouldn't look like 'you', you'd look like that wig's character."
Laura tried to pull the other wig onto her head, but her horns got in the way, and even once she kind of managed to situate it, nothing happened. "Damn."
"No sense worrying about it, Miss… I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"Laura," she muttered.
"Laura. My advice to you is, enjoy the character. Have an adventure. Immerse yourself in it for a couple weeks. No one'll recognize you. You may have so much fun, you won't want to him to take it off." He chuckled, and Laura involuntary shivered. "Seriously, though, don't worry. Enjoy your two weeks, and your boyfriend will take it off when he gets back."
She sighed, wanting to argue, but unable to think of anything else to say.
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Laura's nerves calmed once she got home. She took her pants off, sighing with pleasure as she stretched her legs and let her tail unfurl, then sat down, turned on her computer, and went to work. The normalcy of the routine made her feel better, even though every time she looked down at her red hands, with their dark red fingernails clacking against the keys, she was reminded of how "un-normal" it really was. In a way, it kind of appealed to her, the thought of being stuck in this body, having to cope with it and seeming "weird" to the rest of the world… but, she reminded herself, she was still pissed off at Derek.
She took a break for lunch and walked into the kitchen, her hooves clicking on the linoleum floor. This was going to be a maddening two weeks if she couldn't talk to someone. But who did she trust enough to tell? After a moment of thinking, she had an idea.
She picked up the phone, and hesitated a moment before dialing. "Hey, Angela? It's me, Laura. Yeah, I know it's been a long time. This is gonna sound odd, but… want to come over?"