Smuggling her out of the office had been something of an exercise in stealth. He had wrapped Karen up entirely in his jacket, hiding her from the rest of the workforce, and the loitered by the doorway of her office room until he was sure that the least amount of people possible would see them. Then he darted past everyone, clutching his boss tight to his chest. He zoomed past a startled Simon who barely had time to register a hello before Fergus was gone, darting into an elevator that by the good grace of God was waiting open for them.

Karen had given him her address; she lived on the other side of town. Normally that would be a pain, but at least it wasn’t rush hour. He had made sure Karen was secured safely in the seat next to him. A terrible part of him had considered buying her a baby seat. An even worse part of him had thought about putting her in the trunk. Probably because she had continued to send him texts even though he was driving.

Don’t drive so fast! You’re a maniac!

“Stop texting me!” said Fergus out loud, thumping his steering wheel in frustration. “Christ!”. He took a long deep breath. Shouting and cursing wasn’t going to do anyone any good; she couldn’t even hear it. He let the buzzing of the phone fade of out into the background, unnoticed, as the torso girl squirmed in her seat. At least with his jacket on she had some of her dignity preserved. He wondered what a cop would think, should one pull up beside Fergus’s car and look through the widow. He hoped that he didn’t find out.

Thankfully, and for once in this rotten period of Fergus’s life, he got lucky. There were no incidents as he made his way smoothly to Karen’s home. She lived in a small, cosy looking building all on her own, as it turned out. There was no garden or lawns save for a hedge that was shared with her neighbour, and there didn’t appear to be any floors above the ground level. Which made sense when Fergus thought about it. He couldn’t really see Karen either making her way up any stairs or mowing any lawns by herself. He pulled up outside and picked up his poor, overworked phone.

“We’re here. Please don’t text while I’m driving thanks”

Thank god. OK, take me inside.

Fergus got out and soon had Karen cradled in his arms once more. He made his way to the porch. A thought occurred.

“Do you have a key?” he texted.

I sent Eva a message. She’s left a key under the mat.

Fergus looked. There was indeed a small key left there. He picked it up. Another thought occurred, and he fumbled for his phone, having to juggle it along with Karen and the key.

“Why didn’t you just get Eva to run you home?!”

Because I like Eva, and you were right there anyway. It’s your fault I had to come home anyway, you dolt!

Taking some deep breaths, Fergus unlocked the front door and carried his charge inside. He wandered into the living room and looked around, surprised. There was barely any decorations- the walls were painted white, and there were no mirrors, posters, paintings or anything else. It made sense when he started to think about it, of course. Someone as practical as Karen had no need for decorations. A part of him wondered if the house would look the same way even if she had a head…

“Where should I take you?”

My room. Down the hall. Get me changed.

Yikes. Well, this had been likely. Fergus was directed via increasingly abrupt texts to his boss’s bedroom. The bed there was far too large for a woman of Karen’s size, which was the one show of indulgence in an otherwise Spartan home. Everything else was extremely clean and orderly looking, no doubt thanks to the careful work of Eva. He placed Karen down gently on her bed. He thought for a bit about how to word his text.

“Do you have pajamas”

There are comfy shirts in the drawers.

“Which drawer?”

Stop texting and start looking, I’m getting cold

The torso rolled gently around on the bed, trying to get comfortable as the out-of-his-depth office worker found himself rooting through her drawers. Work clothes, casual wear, and of course inevitably a drawer full of underwear. The second to last drawer was filled with oversized shirts- he picked out a black one and brought it over, removing the shirt she had been wearing, and started to pull it over Karen. His phone buzzed.

Too warm with my underwear on. Take those off too.

“Seriously.” He texted back, once the freeze that he’d felt in his chest had dissipated.

Do me. It.

Fergus read the text carefully. What an… interesting slip. He remembered how that worked- her thoughts were being directly translated into messages, right? Could that have just been a little Freudian slip?

What if it wasn’t?

Fergus?

“Ok two seconds.”

He turned Karen over so she was face down, so to speak, then unhooked her bra. His hands trembled as he worked, and in his state of now heightened paranoia about his boss and her thoughts, it seemed as though her torso was squirming at his touch. Where had this come from? He was imagining it, surely. Not Karen, the battle-axe from hell who had spent the last week hating his guts. No, clearly, he just had a dirty mind.

He turned Karen over again and lifted her bra off. Her breasts were now fully exposed, and now that they were free it was apparent how blessed the torso-girl was in that department. Fergus took a few deep breaths and tried to stay professional, averting his eyes, only to be met with her white cotton panties. He slipped a finger down the sides and Karen reacted instantly, squirming uncontrollably for several seconds like she’d just been electrocuted. A damp spot had very obviously formed in her panties. Fergus held his fingers there, paralyzed and unsure how to proceed. But he had no choice. He slid the garments off of Karen, and then she was nude. Her slit was clearly glistening as Karen wiggled some more on the bed. She had a finely trimmed cut of blonde pubic hair- Fergus would only later twig that this meant Karen would have been a blonde with a head. Right now he was a little distracted.

Zombie-like, Fergus slowly reached out a hand… and grabbed the black shirt on the bed. Then he carefully fitted it down over Karen’s shoulders and pulled it over the rest of her, covering up his boss once more, before breathing a sigh of relief. For a moment there, he had to admit there had been a shameful stirring in his pants. Seeing her naked, just a torso, not even a head! Naked and vulnerable in a way he’d never seen a woman before. And with how she had been acting- or at least, how he had started to think she had been acting. That was the thing, Karen was so hard to read that you could project all sorts of things onto her actions. Fergus shook his head, chastising himself for this. At least now he could concentrate. Hopefully she’d be back to her usual self.

His phone went off.

That’s it? Really?

What.

“??” he texted back. The torso had stopped wiggling around so much, wrapped up in the oversized black shirt that would have went down to just above Karen’s knees had she still had knees.

You dense motherfucker. You absolute clueless gibbon.

This string of insults actually went on longer- Fergus had to interrupt her mid-flow, reeling from this unexpected turn. He was starting to regret wishing that Karen would go back to her old self now.

“What did I do?”

How much more obvious do I have to be you blithering idiot?! Do I have to spell it out for you? Because I will.

“Karen I’m sorry I don’t understand”

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