Mystery Lake

[16] Recovery

Roxanne pulled herself up carefully, just trying to remember how to breathe normally and keep her hands steady and her mouth straight, so she didn't look like she'd just spent ten minutes sobbing in the trunk of the car. She needed to find a change of clothes for herself and Jake.

Finding stuff for her transformed girlfriend was easier than looking for something she felt like putting on. Joel wasn't the kind of guy to pack a lot of changes of clothes, but fortunately, Jess had done the bulk of the packing while he was still waking up and processing that he had said yes to a trip to this unknown lake upstate. She didn't realize that she was actually packing for herself. Roxanne grabbed Jake a stretchy, flexible, space-themed polyester top with stars and nebulae splashed across in bright, vibrant colors and gray jeans.

For herself, Roxanne considered a pair of simple denim cut-off shorts and a black shirt but put them aside for later. She rummaged through the options until her hand found something unexpected: a pale pink dress with an absolute forest of flowers swarming all over it. A dark sash wrapped around the waist, and the sleeves were relatively long, but the fabric didn't feel heavy. The hem would probably be quite low on her, but there was no danger of it dragging on the ground. She knew this was one of Jess's dresses. That she was even considering wearing something like this bewildered her, and yet the color was so vibrant and cheerful... like she wanted to feel.

Screw it; she was going to try it. To hell with what was screaming in her head about how she had to look and act like a guy and all the other bullshit. Just put on a freaking dress and be a girl for a while. It won't kill ya. It's just some dumb clothes. The group had avoided the issue of underwear, and she didn't think there was anything that would fit her comfortably, but she found a pair of silk shorts that clung to her shape. Her previously liberated kitty wasn't happy with the confinement, but at least it was better than those damn pants practically crushing bones.

Up top, she had conceded that jiggle was just a thing that happened to this body. At least it was nowhere near the scale of the others. One of Jess's older sports bras looked promising. She was probably committing some awful fashion faux pas for which the lady who criticized Layla would turn around and tut-tut about her crime as well, but trying it out was kind of nice.

Luckily, they had packed plenty of trash bags for the trip, so she stashed the clothes in them and took a few final breaths before leaving the car and striding back to the truck stop. She didn't notice anyone sizing her up like a slab of meat this time around, but maybe she was just becoming desensitized to it.

When she got back to the table, she saw that Ross had a large, still-steaming plate of noodles stuffed with beef, chicken, and shrimp. The others were splitting practically a whole combo pizza lacking peppers between the four of them. Jake hopped up from the table and retrieved several slices from a warming pan on the counter. They were all meat-lovers-style, with large portions of sausage included. Roxanne quickly dug in and made sure Jake got an appreciative smooch. She plastered over any sense that she might have been crying with exuberance for this meal and a focus on the others.

Chiara squinted with concern, as if she could see through all of her cheerful bullshit. Miranda looked around nervously, like she was worried she had missed some vital cue that she should have caught but didn't. Jake noticed, too, but held his tongue, even though Roxanne could tell there were concerned words sitting on the edge of speech.

She suspected that their shower would be full of questions she wasn't interested in answering. Ross kept his head down and simply scarfed down the noodles, grabbing as many as he could and hoping they wouldn't dissolve into nothingness or worse.

Layla didn't go to town on the pizza as adamantly as the false breakfast. Roxanne suspected it wasn't a factor of fear but rather a matter of wanting to enjoy it at Chiara's measured pace. The depth of gas station food grease also played a part. Even the sparse vegetables looked like they had been caramelized and cooked into honorary meat masses. Maybe Ross had the right idea in sticking with fresh fried noodles. But pizza was comfort food, and Roxanne needed the comfort.

She fought to savor it, to slow down and take in each bite instead of stuffing it down to make her forget. Gulps of water helped her pace it, especially the free, icy water from the large, wall-mounted soda machine. Her guts responded swiftly to that, shoving whatever remained from the dark diner toward the last door. If only the rest of her could let go of that place so simply. She managed to shove as much of the meaty pizza into herself as possible without breaking down the exit. It wasn't a pleasant balance, but it would resolve itself soon, one way or another.

Roxanne clung to a restful moment of stomach satisfaction before the gurgling began. Back to the big, fancy bathroom to put in some sitting time. Everybody poops. Just because she had a girlish form didn't alter any of that most human equalizer. Still had guts, and they still had shit to do.

Clearing house certainly helped and tempted her to invite another slice or two to join the pizza family party, but the limit was already here. No need to push a good thing over the edge. She did lament the fact that the people working the pizza place only set out packets of crushed peppers and parmesan after they were stuffed.

Roxanne had managed to keep her side bundle a delicate secret through lunch. Jake was permitted to peek at the clothes she picked for him, but only that much. He approved, but also raised his eyebrows with questions about when he was going to join in the shower activities. With a wink, Roxanne assured him that he wouldn't be left out.

"I just need a few minutes," Roxanne sighed, rubbing her eye in a place that just refused to get rid of the grit.

"Without me?" Jake asked with a distinct pout.

"For myself." Roxanne leaned her forehead against his and gave him a soft kiss. "Just me and my thoughts."

"Just for a few minutes, I hope." Jake gave the base of her neck a little peck and whispered, "I have thoughts I want to share too."

Roxanne couldn't help but blush as she reluctantly parted from Jake, with a few more pecks as reminders, and made her way to the showers.

The automated system had called her number a few minutes ago as she was finishing her pizza. It printed her individual passcode, which had no noted restrictions on sharing and even an encouragement that couples and partners could shower together if they wished. Just clean up after.

A long shiver of several emotions rushed through her body. She had strutted around naked at the lake, practically wanting to jump Jake's freshly boy bones and sweet sausage, but now that crazy edge was wearing off. It was just sex, but it felt monumentally different in this form. Something new and strange from a different perspective. She was in the girl side's shoes, and it presented a lot of issues when you sat down and accepted the full context. Layla had the luxury of bouncing around physical forms like a happy little pinball, but Roxanne doubted it would ever have been much of an imposition for that girl.

Jess shared her thoughts on the physical nature of their relationship, back when things were normal. They communicated and listened a lot before they did the deed. Protection was important, though they trusted each other as their first and only so far. But Roxanne knew intimately that her feelings were different as the intended recipient of contact rather than the provider. The fuckee rather than the fucker, put crudely.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

It wasn't the remarkable swath of kielbasa that filled her with all these unfamiliar feelings, although she knew she should have been wary of that department. It was the whole ball of wax. It was accepting a role that made her stomach gurgle something fierce, no matter how good or bad the pizza felt within her.

There was a difference between messing around with some scrambled parts and being intimate with the person you loved in ways you had never ever considered before. They had fooled around a bit with butt stuff and some role-playing, but neither of them had been into domination on Jess's end or anything they thought was really out there. What they wanted together was comfort and security. At least Roxanne thought so.

What if putting it up her turned the new boy into a sex maniac? Okay, it was a ridiculous thought. But not being in charge, not being in control, shook her to the core. She was so much smaller, lighter, and weaker than before. Jake could easily do whatever he wanted to her. He could press her up against the wall and run his big, strong hands all the way down her naked body. Squeeze her and make her beg for... wait a dang minute... what was she thinking? Was she actually afraid of this, or… was she turned on? Stupid estrogen.

She needed to clear her head with the shower. That was all she needed. Just a few minutes to wash away all the bad, all the confusion, and all the pain. Then she could deal with everything else. Just give her this.

The code worked on the door on the first try, and she peeked inside. Joel had tried one of these for the heck of it at the end of a long, solo road trip. That had been in the middle of nowhere, Tennessee, and the lights were half burned out, with an oppressive aroma of cleanser splattered everywhere, along with the distinct impression that the room had been pilfered from an old hospital and planted here. This one was adorned in solid, grayish burgundy tile that looked like it could survive an apocalypse or two and not even suffer a scratch.

There was a place for her bags, all her possessions, and some built-in metal hangers for her clothes. Practically a resort level of amenities for this kind of place. She put a quarter in to dispense a mini bar of chokingly pungent soap and quickly undressed.

The shower itself was basic. But there was plenty of room for three or more people to stand under the head and do whatever they liked. She cautiously stood with her legs apart and leaned against the wall experimentally, with nothing particular in mind—except turning on the faucet and letting the water wash over her.

Like every public shower ever made, it had little warning between shooting out ice-cold, screaming jets of lancing pain, immediately followed by steaming, angry walls of fire hotter than the sun. Stretching over to the side like a ballerina dancer, she carefully turned the knob until the blasting water static settled into the most harmonious form it could provide. At least water pressure wasn't a problem.

She stood under the stream, eyes shut tight, and let it blast like her own personal power wash, soaking her skin, saturating her spirit, and sending all the bad things to a watery grave. It took several minutes before she even went hunting for her soap. A little hand towel to collect suds and gently scrub would've been preferable, but her skin was just going to have to put up with the fact that she wasn't the most tender caretaker. No regiments of creams and moisturizers. No treatments or exfoliation routines. Not even any fancy loofahs. It just had to suck it up and not be a little bitch about it. That was the deal, right, skin?

Her breasts did receive careful treatment, though, as it didn't seem right to treat the girls quite so roughly. But her face could take it. The twitching eye couldn't be scrubbed away. In fact, the soap made it worse, giving her the feeling that the orb was about to sneak out of its socket and go rolling across the room.

A few more minutes, and she would have no remaining credible excuse for leaving Jake out. Stretching around carefully, she sent a long text with the code number, which otherwise just said, "Ready." Although she had no idea if she really was.

Jake knocked gently on the door and waited for Roxanne's clear confirmation before opening it. She stayed in the shower nook until the door completely clicked shut. Sneaking a peek around the wall, Roxanne saw that Jake remembered to bring all the things that a good skin and body carer wouldn't think twice about. Even a loofah.

She had also neglected towels, so it was a good idea that Jake had several. Roxanne stepped around the corner of the open shower, dripping, increasingly cold, and fully exposed. It wasn't the first time, but it felt deeply personal.

Jake looked at her softly and stepped closer to stroke her cheek.

"You look better. You stopped crying."

Roxanne tensed up. "How did you know?"

"I know you. I saw when you almost burst into tears pulling me out of the water, and I saw when my silly book yanked on your emotions. And you were away for several minutes. Your eyes don't turn red and puffy that much, but I could still tell. You didn't even try to hide it."

Roxanne wanted to say something tough and confident in response—not a rough rejection, but a sure-footed pivot. Blame the dust in the back and the smell of some of the clothes for irritating her eyes. Just a little bit of tearing up, nothing that major. But she totally broke down and cried right there in front of Jake. No holding back, no restraint—nothing to stem the flow.

Jake pulled her into a close, comforting embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling his hands stroke her soaked hair and caress her dripping skin.

"You were so strong back at the diner, so brave," he said quietly, "but even heroes cry sometimes and need someone to help them."

She lost it, she totally lost it all, sobbing loudly into Jake, his shoulder barely muffling her as the tears rolled down her cheeks and her body shaking with sobs as the stress, the fear, the exhaustion, everything she'd held in as private pain spilled all over Jake. He held her tight and grabbed a big, fluffy towel to keep her warm. They stayed like that for several minutes—an embarrassingly long time for Roxanne—but Jake held her tight and stayed with her.

"How do you feel now?" He asked after the worst of the sobbing had finally ceased, and all that remained were sniffling tears.

"Like both warmed-over and frozen crap," Roxanne replied, wiping her eyes and trying to smile weakly. "But I'll live. Just... just don't tell anybody, please. About me crying. It's just between us, okay?"

"Of course. Always. You like to say you'll always pull me to shore, but sometimes the currents in life get to be too much and you need to swim together instead of pulling all the weight by yourself."

Roxanne raised a damp eyebrow and commented, "You might be stretching that metaphor a bit...but I'll try to keep that in mind."

They smiled together, and a calm peace settled over them. Softly, Jake inquired, "Is there anything else you'd like to just keep between the two of us?" His eyes twinkled with that unmistakable Jess mischief.

Roxanne had no idea what bright, embarrassing color her whole face and probably body turned in the aftermath of that question, but she felt hot enough to flash dry herself off.

Before her determination failed, she responded, "Yes." And had to just barely restrain herself from ripping off Jake's clothes.