The next morning, Brittany awoke with a foul taste in her mouth -- the taste of Andrea's sperm, snot, and piss all still very strong. She needed to brush her teeth and use some mouth wash, then drink as much water as she could. Then there was the urge to relieve herself as well, and the thought that she needed to urinate because Andrea forced her to drink so much of hers made Brittany hunch over the side of the bed.
"Eeeeeeuurgh! Eeeyyuurrggh!" She dry heaved, eventually spitting stomach acid and stale saliva from her mouth. Her sinuses burned with the piss-scented snot drooling from her nostrils, and she used the sleeve of her suit to clean the muck away. Well, some of it at least - there was only so much she could do with the finger-less latex material.
How Brittany managed to sleep in the uncomfortably tight pig suit, she had no idea. She supposed it was the drugs, which had worn off. At least she could move.
Brittany wished last night was just a dream, and that she was hallucinating the whole situation. She knew that wasn't the case though, and her hate for her roommate deepened. How could Andrea put her through something so humiliating?!
Anger raged through the blonde as she forced herself to sit up. As soon as she tried to stand, her pig-stumped feet gave way under her, and Brittany fell face-first to the floor. She groaned in anger as sharp pain tore through her soles, then turned onto her back to look at her feet.
"What the fuck?!" She wriggled her toes, and when she felt them prick into tiny spikes within the soles, she screamed. "Andrea! Andrea get in here!" She glared hatefully at the door as she tried forcing herself onto her hands and knees.
Brittany moved her legs, carefully dragging herself back to the edge of the bed. She rested one arm on the mattress, trying to force herself up. "Can't fucking move in this - fuck!" She gave up when the spikes dug into her feet again, and eventually wound up in a sitting position.
Andrea still hadn't come, and Brittany began to study the stubs at her feet. They were exactly that - pig-stubs. She felt them through her hand-stubs and realised the stubs and spikes were at least two inches long, altogether. There was no way she could stand up on those without severely injuring her feet. Feelings of frustration filled Brittany; she sulked and imagined all of the nasty things she'd do to Andrea.
As Brittany lamented her situation, she thought about something Andrea said the previous night. 'Get used to it, because you'll wear that suit for the rest of your life.' That was impossible, there's no way she'd be cruel enough to put another human being through that life. What she'd done to Brittany thus far, though, was evil.
Brittany knew it was the twentieth today, which meant there were another twelve days until her monthly report was due. And, if she still wore the suit then, and was unable to make the call, Stephanie would try to contact her instead. Twelve days of living like this though? Waiting that long was the last resort, and if Andrea didn't laugh it off as a joke and release Brittany, she'd have to find a way to escape by herself.
The sound of the Morning Show grabbed Brittany's attention, telling her Andrea just turned the T.V on. "Andrea!" She called out again and waited. She heard the woman in the kitchen, rustling through drawers and such. Soon, approaching footsteps on the linoleum, and the door swung open.
Andrea looked down at her new little pig-pet with a bemused smirk on her face, and Brittany could tell the woman just woke up. Although she rarely put effort into her appearance, Andrea's bed-hair was worse than usual.
"Are you gonna get me out of this thing or what?!" Brittany snapped once she felt the stare had gone on for too long.
When Andrea shrugged and walked further into the room, Brittany saw a glass of water in her hand. The sight of the clear liquid reminded her of her quenching thirst and she puckered her lips.
"Oh, do you want this?" Andrea asked, acting like she only just noticed she was holding a glass of water. "I guess you earned it, you were such a good girl last night, after all."
The woman held in front of Brittany to take, but it slipped through her stubbed hands and bounced off the floor, spilling.
"Come on, seriously?" Brittany snapped, looking up at Andrea to see a smug visage looking down at her. "This is stupid, take this fucking thing off me!"
Andrea began to laugh at the angry blonde. "Oh don't talk to me like that! I was nice enough to bring you a glass of water, right? Not even a thank you? Not my fault you spilled it!"
"Yes, it is!" Brittany shrieked, repositioning herself slightly. She was on her knees now. "Seriously, get this thing off me, Andrea. The joke's gone too far!"
Andrea feigned heavy contemplation by holding a finger and thumb to her chin, "Hmm..." She shook her head, resting her hands on her hips. "Nah. You're not in a position to talk to me like that, you realise. Giving me orders, who do you think you are? And come on," she looked at the stubs of Brittany's feet. "I had the suit specially designed so its wearer would be completely helpless... which I'm sure you've figured out."
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Brittany asked, becoming more furious with the situation.
"Who knows? What I do know, though, is that you're fucked. You can't do shit." Andrea deadpanned. "If you beg me to get you another drink, I suppose I'd think about it."
There was just over a metre between herself and Andrea, and Brittany wondered if she could get close to the woman quick enough to attack her.
Andrea saw it coming though and side-stepped the blonde as she lunged. She laughed as the girl slid along the floor, and heard the sound of glass breaking and crumbling under the suit. "Did you just try to bite my dick? If you wanted my dick in your mouth, all you have to do is beg for it!"
Brittany's thighs and waist stung from the glass, but when she checked, she realised the shards hadn't pierced the suit. How much did Andrea pay for this thing? She forced herself up to her hands and knees again and screamed in useless anger. "Shut the fuck up, you psycho!" Before she could turn around to face Andrea again, the woman kicked her in the back. Brittany's face crashed into the door, making the steep doorknob crash into the doorstop.
"Okay, dumb ass - try and understand your situation," Andrea said, watching the girl rub her bruised nose with her stubs. She rested her backside on the railings at the foot of Brittany's bed and scratched her nuts under her loose grey and blue pyjamas. "I repeat: You are fucked. Without my assistance, you can't eat, drink, open doors or even use the toilet. I mean, you can, if you don't mind spending your days with filth clogging your crotch.
"Oh you're listening now, are you?" Andrea nodded in approval. "So, you're not a complete idiot after all."
"How long are you going to keep me in this thing?" Brittany asked, finally allowing the helplessness she felt seep into her voice.
