Dedicated to all bullying survivors...it really does get better!
Chapter 1
"I say, Elizabeth," Irene huffed through the frigid air as the two best friends stepped down from the streetcar and made their way to the bathhouse, "Does it ever seem to you that the baths aren't worth it in this weather? Every moment in that warm water you know you've got to go back out in the cold later?"
"I prefer to look at that as a reason to enjoy the water while it lasts," Elizabeth replied as the pair hurried their way through the cold, dark streets of Westfordshire City. It was only just past five o'clock, but it was the dead of winter and the sun was always a pleasant memory at that hour. "Besides," Elizabeth added with her usual salacious grin, "Who would miss the opportunity to see and be seen?"
Irene laughed. "Even in the coldest weather, your blood runs as hot as ever. I might've known."
"Your fault, dear," Elizabeth teased. "It's your cousin who keeps the fire burning all the time now, and who brought him into my life?"
"Oh, it's all down to Jonathan now, is it?" Irene teased back. "The hairy ones are the horny ones, aren't they?"
"Guilty as charged," admitted Elizabeth, who sported Westfordshire City's most famously bushy lady-garden. Thanks to her frequenting of the baths, all the city's other trendy young women knew it, and so did the men with whom they compared furtive notes in the city's stylish bars and cafes, to say nothing of the numerous men who had witnessed her charms firsthand. That characteristic had been integral in bringing her together with Irene's cousin Jonathan, after he had let it slip that he was a great admirer of such things and word had come to Irene, who had seen Elizabeth in the bath.
"Tell me again, Elizabeth, did that line ever really work for you when it came to men who found your bush repulsive?" Irene never tired of Elizabeth's many stories of her sordid past, though she steered clear of what her friend was now up to with her cousin.
"It did," Elizabeth confirmed. "If a man was disappointed in my appearance, he was rarely willing to pass up an encounter with a woman who announced she was as randy as he was. But once we were done..."
"You never bothered with him again," Irene finished the story she had heard so many times before. "Why would you when there were so many who appreciated your furry assets?"
"And there were." Elizabeth could often scarcely believe that herself after the horrendous teasing she had endured from the other girls in her younger days -- but it was true. "More than ever now thanks to you, Irene." And she put an affectionate arm around her best friend, to whom she owed the love she and Jonathan had enjoyed for a few months now.
Irene smiled her silent approval, though she knew full well that Elizabeth's sexual appetite had been voracious enough well before Irene had introduced her cousin, Jonathan, to her. It mattered little, of course, for Elizabeth and Jonathan had been very happy together throughout those past few months, and Irene had become Elizabeth's closest confidante as well. In truth she loved Elizabeth's openly lustful outlook on Westfordshire City's baths and the intrigue that so often surrounded them, and she loved being the closest friend of the baths' most honored guest. But she was such fun to tease about it all as well. Among other things, it helped ease Irene's own frustration that romance had eluded her thus far in the long dark winter.
It was for that reason that Irene had more than willingly accepted Elizabeth's invitation to an evening at the baths tonight. The communal baths, though segregated by sex, made for the only intimacy Irene had at her disposal just then. So she had more than willingly come round to Elizabeth's office at the publisher's after she had taught her final class that afternoon to accompany her best friend to their favorite inner sanctum in a liberated city that offered many delights for the young like themselves. With Jonathan working late that night, Elizabeth had assured her that she craved the companionship as well. Irene, for her part, hoped getting out of the house more might lead to her own romance in the near future.
Elizabeth, of course, had many admirers at the bathhouse because of her uniquely beautiful body and her hard-won lack of shame about it. The older woman at the desk that afternoon was not among those admirers, as Elizabeth had explained to Irene somewhere along the line; and she looked mildly annoyed as the two friends bustled in from the cold. They could both see the look of reluctant cordiality on her face as she welcomed the young lady who could not be bothered to groom her overgrown lady-garden appropriately, and the most fervent of her too-many admirers. "Good evening, ladies," she said crisply.
"Lovely to see you," Elizabeth said in her sweetest voice, welcoming the woman's disdain as she had long ago learned such was the best way to cope with other people's opinions of her body. Irene only nodded as she followed Elizabeth in signing in. The woman forced a cordial smile as she handed over their locker keys, and they were off to the locker room.
Even the drafty lobby was warmer than the outside, and as they made their way down the hall to the steamy locker room it grew downright hot. Elizabeth and Irene began peeling off their outer clothing as soon as they were signed in; when they reached the locker room hats, gloves, coats and scarves were all removed and stuffed hastily under their arms. Only then did Elizabeth note that Irene was wearing trousers, a fairly new trend among the women of Westfordshire City and not something Elizabeth herself had ever yet considered. "Heavens, Irene, don't you feel boxed in wearing those?" she asked in surprise.
"A bit at first," Irene admitted. "But they're certainly warmer than a dress in that chill out there! You ought to try a pair."
"Someday I may," Elizabeth agreed, hanging her outerwear in her locker and eager to see her friend's reaction to her own newest wardrobe change. "But not just yet." She was much too fond of her very feminine clothing styles, after all those years of being made to feel like less than a woman in the bad old days. Why would one want to dress like a man after that? But she would say no such thing to her dearest friend. Nor did Irene need any explanation; she knew Elizabeth's stories of her past struggles with her natural beauty. Indeed, Irene had heard of Elizabeth's hairy pussy and her hard-won pride in it even before she had met her. Having since become friends there in the baths after a rather embarrassing introduction, they had gone on to share most or all of their intimate secrets over tea or wine, befitting a relationship that had begun in such intensely intimate circumstances.
Casually as always, for they were perfectly accustomed to being nude together, Irene and Elizabeth set about undressing. Well-attuned to the sheer naughtiness of it all, they did so facing one another, enjoying the attention they knew they were getting. There were half a dozen other women in the room, some just joining the baths, others leaving; most of them knew Elizabeth and enjoyed the titillation of a look at her unique body. Only one, a woman of about their age who was dressing to leave in the corner, was unfamiliar to Elizabeth and Irene. Neither of them paid her much mind, as they were already fully aware that they were subject to the usual furtive glances as they undressed. Elizabeth welcomed those glances, and Irene was learning to appreciate them vicariously, knowing they weren't really aimed at her lovely but ordinary body.
Elizabeth was nevertheless tickled by the anticipation of Irene's reaction to her new undergarment. Having finally given in to her distaste for the bulky underpants that were still the mainstream option for the women of Westfordshire City, she had at long last allowed Jonathan to buy her a few pairs of high-cut panties (as they were so adorably billed at the lingerie shop). That day marked Elizabeth's first occasion wearing them to the baths, which meant the first time anyone save Jonathan would see them. Though they felt far more comfortable and feminine and grown-up than the silly pants she was used to, the panties had one major drawback: her abundant pubic hair peeked out from behind the thin fabric at every edge, on both legs and above the waistline. That effect had always dissuaded Elizabeth from buying or wearing them before, as she felt her feminine charms were best left entirely hidden until they were fully displayed. Many reassurances from Jonathan that he loved the look had allowed her to overcome her reservations as far as he was concerned; but she still was unsure how she felt about appearing in her panties in public.
