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A story about Gina’s abduction, training & sale

"Shit," Molly muttered. She walked on her hands over to the door and peeked out. Did she hear snoring from Fran's room? She hoped so as she moved quick as she could across the hall and dove into her room.

The razor wasn't in the drawer she usually kept it in, and it wasn't on her desk. She didn't even remember grabbing it before she went to the bathroom. Frustrated, she hand-walked over to the desk and plopped her torso up on her chair. In the bathroom, she sat her legs up and tapped her foot absentmindedly. Where had she left it?

"Ugh," came a sound from the hallway. There was the creak of a door and the shuffling of feet. "Molly, you in there?" Fran asked, tapping on the bathroom door.

Molly froze, knuckles white around the arms of her chair. Not only was Fran trying to get into the bathroom where her horny lower body sat expectant, but now, she realized, her key to the bathroom door was beside her tapping foot, and the door had locked behind her when she came back to the bedroom.

"I gotta ralph, Molly. Open...open up, dammit." Fran sounded defeated, halfhearted, tired and drunk. Molly heard her shuffle down the hallway to the kitchen, then the rustling of a trash liner, and then a heave, and then a splat. Then, she heard snoring.

Molly sighed, relieved. But what to do about her lower half? It still sat on the toilet. She crossed her legs, felt the shaving cream ooze between her thighs. The cream was starting to itch. She also had to pee.

"It never rains," she whispered, swinging herself down from the chair, "but it pours."

She peered around the door frame and confirmed that Fran had gone down on the kitchen floor. Her roommate's feet poked out from behind the kitchen counter; she was out cold. Molly hand-walked over to the bathroom door and wiggled the knob.

It was locked.

For a second, she wanted to give up. She'd either have to get Fran to open the door, or call university maintenance, or break the door. How would she explain being naked and split in half, with shaving cream on her pussy, on opposite sides of a locked door? Without thinking, she stood and began pacing, or at least her lower body did in the bathroom.

She felt her foot collide with her pile of clothes and heard keys skittering across the linoleum. Just like that, an idea hit her. What if she pushed the key under the door with her foot? It was worth a shot.

Tentatively she stuck out her foot and began feeling around for the key.

"Shirt, pants, book, bra, shaving kit," she said under her breath. "Vibrator, shaving cream, key!"

In the bathroom, she pinched the keyring between her toes and shuffled over to the door. With a clumsy kick, she slid it through the gap under the door to her waiting hand.

"You and I make a pretty good team," she said to her lower body as she opened the door. She immediately scratched her pussy where the shaving cream had begun to burn and continued to hand-walk past it to the shower. In the absence of her own razor, Molly figured, she'd just use the one from the shower.

Snatching it up she turned and guided her lower half to the shower, where she helped herself sit down. The view of her own groin was incredible, even better than when her head came off. This time, her hands were also separated from her genitals, along with her head. She had the full range of motion that a lover might have with all the sensitivity that the owner of the equipment before her would exercise.

Actually trimming her hair took just a few moments. Her lower half squirmed under her own hand as the cold metal scraped over her most sensitive areas, but after just two or three deft strokes, she was done and admiring her handiwork.

"There we go," she said, wiping herself with a wet hand towel. "So hot even I want to fuck it." She withdrew a bottle of lube from her shaving kit and poured some on her pussy. "In fact," she added, grabbing her vibrator, "I think I will."

She rolled her lower half onto its front, as if she were laying on her stomach, and plunged the vibrator into her pussy, turnin

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