A Bunnie To Play With - Chapter 15 - Graduation
Date: 11/6/2017, Categories: BDSM, Author: ChrissieLecker, Source: LushStories
Thursday - once I had been able to extricate my sore body from the bed - had been quite hectic. I spent a good part of the afternoon shopping, and it took me quite a while to find shops that had the kind of clothing I was looking for - flimsy, lewd and in crying colors. I had almost given up hope when I stumbled into a costume shop as a last resort. The sales girl crossed her arms when she saw me, and when I noticed the short, dirty blonde, tight curls, I realized that I had seen her once or twice on campus. “We don’t do evening dresses,” she told me, popping a gum bubble. “That’s not what I’m looking for either,” I shot back, letting my eyes roam around. “Then what are you looking for?” Her voice sounded a lot softer now. “Sorry, I’ve had panicked graduates here every few minutes, and my nerves are a bit thin. My name’s Amy.” “Pink,” I told her. “Neon pink. A dress, if possible, with a micro skirt.” “Manga style?” “Hugh?” She sighed. “Like Japanese comic heroines?” “Uhm.” I racked my brain, and my mind brought up a slightly strange comic series with scantily clad, big-eyed girls I had accidentally switched to. “I guess.” “Through here,” she said, waving me to follow and walking down a flight of stairs. I almost shouted with joy when I turned the corner. My eyes were probably as big as the comic movie girl’s. Mannequins were everywhere in the large room, and all were wearing crazy and mostly outrageously skimpy outfits in bright colors. There were nurses, flight ... attendants, school girls, super heroines and - my breath hitched - the naughtiest, shiniest pink minidress I had ever seen. And, even better, the mannequin wore thigh-high, soft pink stockings and matching pink, open-toed stiletto heels high enough to look like pure torture. The top of the dress was shaped like a corset, barely covering the chest and with vertical black stripes inlaid that made it look like a comic version of a French strip dancer outfit of old. Transparent straps held it in place, and I could already see Anne’s delight when she’d see me in it. “Oh my god!” I exclaimed. “Oh my fucking god! I need to have that! Do you have a size four? And the shoes in six and a half?” Amy turned towards me, grinning at my outburst. “I’m pretty sure we do. Why don’t you step into the changing cubicle while I fetch your size?” “Thanks,” I piped after her and entered the booth, drawing the curtain shut behind me and slipping out of my dress. I slipped off my shoes too and put them under the small bench. A hand reached through a gap in the curtain and held out a bundle of fabric. “Thanks!” I snatched it eagerly from her fingers and shook out the dress. I gasped. I hadn’t seen the back of the mannequin, and what I discovered made my cheeks explode in color. There wasn’t really a back to speak of; instead, two transparent straps connected the sided of the dress and would expose everything from my neck down to the dimple at the top of my bum. “You alright?” Amy asked through the curtain and ...