A deep moan woke Joan the next day. Her voice sounded funny to her, like she had a cold. Not wanting to wake Vanessa, she tiptoed into the bathroom, locking the door gently behind her, and stared wide-eyed into the mirror.
Overnight, all that hair had grown back. The thick hair that enveloped her body stared back at her, mocking her feminine features in a grotesque way. The stubble on her face had grown back thicker, though it didn't look as strange and out-of-place without her makeup on.
She decided that she would shave only the parts of her body that would be visible after she got dressed - namely her hands and face, and went downstairs to find Vanessa cooking breakfast.
"It didn't grow back!" she exclaimed.
"I just shaved," Joan replied, graciously accepting the eggs and bacon Vanessa had cooked for her.
"I see," Vanessa said, slightly disappointed. "Do you have a cold?"
"I might be getting one," Joan replied, although she didn't feel any sickness at all. Her throat wasn't sore, either; she just sounded like it was.
As the two of them ate, Joan's pants began to feel tight. She was constantly trying to subtly adjust them, but Vanessa's overprotective eyes caught on right away.
"You got a wedgie?" she jokingly asked.
"I feel like I ate a ton!" Joan replied. "My pants don't fit."
"After breakfast change them."
But the sensation got worse as they ate, and even more uncomfortable was the feeling in her crotch. She felt like she sitting on something.
The meal ended and Joan helped Vanessa clean up and do dishes. She wanted to change her pants, but didn't want Vanessa to know how painful they had become. She was thankful that her shirt hung down to her hips because the button of her jeans came undone as she moved about.