Bad Hair Day

The following morning, Alice and I waited in the common area of our dorm. we knew we’d be receiving visitors.

We weren’t disappointed. Tara and Bit stormed in a short time later. At least, we assumed it was Tara and Bit under the huge, permed masses of hair sitting atop their heads.

“What the hell did you do?!?” said Tara. “I swear, if you don’t fix this, you will be so fucking sorry!”

“Awwwwww,” I said, making a show of writing in my journal. “What’s the matter, Tara?

“You’ve gone too far!” said Tara, trying to brush red curls from her face.

“Are you having a bad hair day, Tara?” I said. “Your locks are a mess. Trouble with split ends?”

“You’re not funny!” said Tara, teeth clenched. “You know damn well why we had trouble brushing our hair!”

Yes, I did. Along with giving them huge perms, Alice and I had turned every strand of their hair into an erogenous zone twice as sensitive as their clits.

I gave her a bitchy smile. “Could it be because a couple strokes of the brush made you cum like a slut?”

“Whatever!” said Tara. “But you need to fix our hair.”

“Sorry,” I said, “but I’m feeling a little too top-heavy to feel sympathetic.”

“I’m serious!” said Tara.

“Fine, fine,” I said. “If it’s such a big deal to you, we’ll fix your stupid hair.”

I stood and circled behind Tara. Alice did the same with Bit.

“We have to do it together,” I said. “Ready, Alice?”

Alice nodded.

“If you try anything, you’re dead,” said Tara. “I mean it.”

“Gosh, I’m scared,” I said. “Let’s do it, Alice.”