More Hairy Tactics

The following morning, we woke up with new hairstyles.

Alice’s dirty blonde hair had lengthened to her waist. It had also thickened and taken on a more wavy style. Washing and brushing that mess was going to take her at least an hour and half.

My hair? Grrrrrrrrrr.

I wasn’t going to have to spend huge amounts of time on my hair, although I would have preferred it. My soft brown hair had woven itself into two thick pigtails jutting off the upper sides of my head and dangling to my waist. I looked like an anime fetish girl.

I couldn’t undo the pigtails. Even if I could have figured out a way to unlock them, my hair now had the same sensitivity my breasts had.

“Stupid bitches!” said Alice, shuddering as she ran a brush through her tangled hair. “Why couldn’t they come up with their own idea?!”

“I don’t know,” I said, “but I’d like to know how they got pieces of our hair.”

Alice shrugged, inadvertently causing her big boobs to jiggle. She took a moment to catch her breath. “Maybe when they were groping us the other day in the common area?”

“Whatever,” I said.

Our boobs were already distracting us and now we had to worry about our hair. And my hair, though not as high-maintenance as Alice’s, was a horribly embarrassing attention-getter. Between my oversized rack and my sex doll hair, I looked like a sex toy.

I had no idea yet what we were going to do, but Alice and I were due for the same class, so we both had to get ready. We immediately argued over who would get to use the shower first, as both of us needed some alone time in the shower in the worst way. Once that was settled, we packed our oversized racks into some stretchy t-shirts and left our room.

“I think,” I said, trying to ignore my jiggling boobs as we approached the History building, “we’d better make a truce with Tara and Bit.”

“Yeah,” said Alice, though obviously not happy about it. “Unfortunately, I agree. I’m sure this morning convinced Tara and Bit as well.”

We entered the building, but decided to stop by the bathroom to compose ourselves. The walk had flustered us enough to warrant it.