Illyria wonders.
This body in which she is trapped has limitations. It is small, slender, with inherent weaknesses. There are curves and lumps that seem to have no purpose and holes that are strange and useless. She is restricted to four limbs and the only thing close to resembling her lost tentacles is this hair that tangles around her too small head.
With only two eyes she perceives the world. With one dulled nose she smells its stench. Her ears are not sensitive enough to hear the conversations across the room let alone the planet.
All humans have certain things in common--two eyes, two ears, one mouth, one nose--but half of them have the lumps and curves. Half are missing that limp thing between their legs.
She does not understand why they are different.
Until one night she spies on the vampire and a woman and sees them unclothed--she has yet to view herself without her armor, having no desire to do so. The woman is lumpy but the vampire seems fixated on the two lumps on her chest. When he touches them, she moans.
It is not pain.
The limp thing between his legs is no longer limp and it hardens and grows and rises. When he puts it into that place between the woman's legs--that hole she has but has yet to examine--it seems to please them both.
And Illyria realizes the truth between the two genders and how they fit together. For procreation.
Even though the vampire cannot procreate he goes through the motions.
She remembers now the humans who crawled out of the primordial ooze of her world, how they coupled like mad, desperate things.
There seems to be pleasure here now. Perhaps the humans have learned something.
In her day, pleasure was restricted to her own kind. She and her mates shook the worlds with their sated lusts.
One more thing the worms of this world have assumed as their right.
Illyria retreats to the room given to her. There is a bed there, upon which she has never sat. It is similar to the vampire's and she now understands its use besides a place for humans to sleep. Turning from it, she wills away her armor and stands before a mirror.
This body is similar to the woman's. More slender, taller, the bones closer to the skin. The body appears fragile but she has made it strong. Slowly she glides one hand--five fingers only are so difficult to become accustomed to--down the opposite arm. The skin is hard as stone, but with a thought she softens it. Little bumps appear and the fine hairs rise.
She cocks her head in interest and smooths her fingers over the flat stomach. She feels the muscles move beneath the skin and continues to explore, to discover other physical reactions. After a few minutes she touches the hair between her legs, wonders at its purpose. It hides the hole in her body, the one used for mating. She probes further and suddenly gasps.
There is heat and wetness.
Why?
Is it a woman thing, a part of this female body? What purpose does it have?
Illyria stares at her reflection, confused, then reforms the armor around herself.
There are some questions she cannot answer. She is trapped in this woman's body and she does not quite understand it. Her explorations have garnered her some answers but also only more questions.
She will seek out the one to answer them for her.
If he requires it, she will give him the illusion he needs for him to explain this gender to her.
After all, Fred's body is soft and smells of warm grass. Perhaps it will pinken under his touch as the vampire's woman's had under his.
Wesley will like that, she is certain.
End