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 handed me the shoes.

“Yes. Just noticed the back of the dress,” I admitted, setting the shoes aside and pulling the dress over my head.

Giggling from outside answered my words.

I pulled down the dress and wiggled it into place. It hugged my body perfectly, and my excitement rose. “Could I try on the stockings too?” I asked the sales girl outside.

“You’ll have to buy them.”

“I will.” Yes, I would. One glance into the wall-high mirror was enough to be sure. I was going to fulfill Anne’s dream as a graduation gift.

“Here.”

“Thanks!” The stockings were soft, far better quality than I had expected. The wide, slightly darker seams snuggled against my thighs. The high heels were a dream! I had never worn anything this high, and when I pushed myself off the bench and got my balance, my mirror image looked incredible, calves and thighs taught and my bum pronounced and perky.

The skirt ended just a finger’s width under my buttocks. Fuck, this really was the naughtiest outfit I had ever worn.

“Can I see?” Amy wanted to know, and I hesitated a moment. But after the adventures of the last weeks, and knowing that I’d be showing off to hundreds of eyes in a days time, I couldn’t really feel all too self-conscious. I pulled the curtain aside.

“Wow!” Amy exclaimed giddily, “it’s perfect for you!”

I twirled around on the spot, overflowing with happiness. “It is!” I exclaimed. When I looked back at Amy, she was staring slightly downwards and had a strange, glazed look in her eyes. I followed her gaze, and my breath hitched. She was looking at me, waist high, and I realized that I had given her quite the show. A show that had apparently gotten to her.

“Amy?” I asked softly.

She looked up as if slapped and took a step backwards, blushing madly. “I’m sorry,” she stammered.

She had a pretty face, I realized, and with the blush, she looked adorable. “Hey, no need to be embarrassed,” I told her. “You simply liked what you saw. I’m glad about that.”

“You… you are?” She couldn’t hold my gaze, so I stepped closer and took her hand.

“Yes. It’s a huge compliment.” I felt her fingers tremble in mine and squeezed gently. Why was I getting all these wicked ideas? “Do you want to touch?”

She froze. “I… I’m not… I mean, not into…” Her whole face turned bright red, and I had to bite my lip to keep my giggle contained at her adorable shyness.

Instead, I pulled up the skirt with one hand and guided her fingers to the front of my thong. Her eyes grew wide, but she made no attempt to pull back. Her hand touched my already moistening crotch, and I let go of it, instead pulling up the dress to my waist and slowly turning around.

Her hand didn’t lose touch. I stopped when it rested on my bum cheek. “You can touch however you want.”

She hesitated, I could hear it in her breathing, but then her fingers softly squeezed. Her hand turned a little and I felt her palm trail up and down my bum cheek, pushing, stroking, and a soft sigh told me how much she enjoyed it.

I tilted my head and slowly turned back around. Her hand brushed my skin once more, and this time there was no hesitation when she touched the soaked front of my thong, no, she gently rubbed up and down, and I almost forgot all about where we were.

I took a step towards her, then one more until our chests touched. She looked up, startled, wide-eyed, and gasped. I let go of the dress and cupped her cheeks, suddenly feeling a hint of the possessive thrill Anne had told me about. “You’ve never made out with a girl, have you?”

Her eyes were big and brown with green spots, and she looked for all counts like a doe called in the headlights. “No,” she whispered, blushing deeper.

“But you’d like to.” I trailed a thumb over lips and felt them tremble. “And you’d like to be told what to do, don’t you?”

Her lips parted, once, twice, but no sound came over them. Only the tiniest of nods confirmed my guess.

“I’m…” My own emotions were tumbling over each other. “I’m normally not dominant at all,” I confessed, “but I guess I could make an exception.” What I couldn’t, though, was resist the temptation of her pale, trembling, pouting lips. I crushed my lips against hers and let my tongue demand entry, and hers parted eagerly like flower blossoms in the first ray of light. She tasted like a mix of strawberry and peppermint, sweet and spicy. She still had the bubblegum, and in a wicked moment, I snatched it with my tongue.

I came up for air, and she moaned. Her eyes were closed and she swayed on the spot. I couldn’t help but giggle softly, and my giggle was answered by flaming cheeks. “You’re so cute,” I whispered.

I took a step back though, caressing her cheek one last time before breaking the contact. “Now’s not the right time.”

“When then?” she demanded to know, an eager expression suddenly taking over.

“After graduation and all its craziness,” I told her with a soft shrug. “I have a girlfriend though.”

She stared at me as if slapped, and I hastened to amend my words.

“I don’t think she’d mind us… making love, though.” The panicked expression softened and breathed a sigh of relief. “She’s also my…” This time it were my cheeks to become flushed. “...mistress.”

“Mistress, as in…”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence. “Uh-uh,” I confirmed with a nod.

“Wow.” She took a step back and sat her bum on the edge of a narrow shelf. “That’s quite a lot, and quite fast.”

“Do you work here regularly?”

“Every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, and most Saturdays.”

“Know what, I’ll come by next Thursday and bring Anne. My Mistress. We can work something out.”

She bit her lip. “This is… crazy.”

I giggled. “Tell me about it! Would that be okay?”

“I guess.”

“Good. I need to hurry a bit now, though.” I slipped back into the changing booth, but I made sure to keep a narrow gap in the curtain, then slipped off the dress. I didn’t look to see if Amy was peeking, but if she was, I was determined to give her a show. So I took my time taking off the high heels and rolling down the stockings, then folding everything neatly before slipping on my own dress again.

I emerged to find her rooted to the spot and with a dreamy expression in her face. I handed her the clothes.

“You’re evil,” she whispered in a throaty voice, suddenly overcoming her shyness.

“I aim to please,” I told her with a wink.

She pushed herself off the shelf. “So where’s the costume party going to be?” she asked while we headed back upstairs.

“Nowhere. It’s for graduation.”

“For…” She stopped. “You’re bullshitting me!”

“Nope,” I told her with a smug grin.

“But… they’ll throw you out if you show up like this!”

I giggled. “They can’t. I’ve read through the rulebook when I planned this. There’s no mention of dress code at all.”

She shook her head and started walking again. “I can’t believe you!”

“I’ll bring a photo,” I promised while she stepped around the counter.

She rang up the items, and when the numbers flickered over the small screen above the cash register, my stomach tightened. The dress was okay, but the shoes… that price was ridiculous!

She looked up and saw my strained expression. “Fucking expensive, huh?”

I nodded. “I’ll be broke.”

Her smile widened. “Or not,” she told me with a wink and typed something more into the register. “Employee rebate,” she whispered, and the number halved.

“Oh my god,” I gushed. “Thank you!”

“Hush.” She put a finger on her lips. “I’m not supposed to do that, but…”

She didn’t need to continue. I handed her my card and she pulled it through the register. When she handed it back, our fingers touched longer than necessary. “Thank you so much, Amy,” I whispered.

“Don’t mention it. Just make sure you come back.”

“I will, I promise!” I headed out with a last wink at her and popped a chewing gum bubble, feeling quite naughty.

* * * *

Anne, of course, immediately noticed that something was up as soon as I set my foot inside the door, and I had a hard time discouraging her from probing deeper. I wanted to tell her all about cute Amy, but I couldn’t, or I’d give the whole plan away. I made up for my reluctance to tell her anything by licking her to countless climaxes after dinner, and it was a completely exhausted mistress that fell asleep spooning me. It didn’t matter that my jaw hurt.

Then, before I knew it, it was Friday around lunch time, and kissed her one last time before heading out. “Meet you at the grad,” I whispered.

“I’d really like to know what you’re up to,” she told me, a possessive hand buried in my hair. If she had pressed on, I’d have caved instantly. “It better be worth it.”

“It will be,” I assured her, giving her a peck on the lips, “I promise!”

* * * *

Jolene’s place was easy to find, the glaring colors of the tattoo motives in the shop window visible from afar. I entered, my purse slung over my shoulder and the shopping bag with the pink dress in my hand.

A woman of about thirty with chocolate brown skin and wearing a short, military style outfit, stood behind the counter, piercings gleaming on her ears, eyebrows and nose. She looked up and smiled at me. “Hi, welcome to Tats and Treats, I’m Monique. What can we do for you?”

I blushed. “I’m Brittany. I’ve got an appointment with Jolene.”

She looked down at the counter, then back up at me, with a curious expression. “Oh,” she gasped, “sorry, I’m a bit slow today. You must be Bunnie, the sub with the make-over.”

“Uhm, yes,” I confessed, blushing even more.

“Go right through the door in the back, Jolene has already prepared everything.”

“Thank you!” My knees didn’t feel all that reliable while I stepped across the room between showcases of piercings and posters of tattoo motives. The door was nondescript, and I hesitantly pushed it open.

I think I gasped. The small room was tiled from floor to ceiling, and in the center stood a wicked looking leather chair, very much a combination of a gynecologist’s chair, complete with stirrups, and those with a cut-out backrest you find at hairdressers. Jolene had her back to me and was arranging things on a small counter in front of a mirror. The first thing there that stood out at me was the wicked looking, gleaming tattoo gun.

“Hi Bunnie!” she greeted me, turning around and looking me up and down appraisingly. “You still going through with it?” She wore skin-tight leather pants and an equally tight tank-top, both in bright yellow. Apparently, she had a thing for yellow.

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s too late to bail out now.”

“Having second thoughts?”

I swallowed. “Only if I look at the tattoo gun too long.”

She giggled musically. “Then there’s nothing to worry about. But you’re on a tight schedule. Why don’t you undress and sit in the chair?”

I blushed, but I didn’t hesitate in gripping the hem of my dress and pulling it up my body. Undressing in front of strangers, I realized with a giggle, was becoming one of my main occupations.

I hadn’t bothered with underwear, so a few seconds later, I was naked save my sandals and settled my bum onto the chair. It felt cool and smooth to my backside, and for a moment I felt like readying myself for an exam at the doctor’s.

“We’ll start with the tattoo,” Jolene stated, stepping in front of the chair and making me feel twice as naked under her unrestrained look. “Put your ankles in the stirrups, that way, you can’t wiggle accidentally.”

I could tell that she enjoyed that a lot. It was a lewd pose, with my legs splayed wide and high. She grinned when her fingers closed the leather buckles around my ankles to hold them in place. Then she leaned closer and nestled with something at the side of the chair. Another, wider, strap went over my stomach.

“Is that really necessary?” I asked while it tightened and pushed me back into the chair.

“No, not really.” She grinned smugly. “But I’d also like to bind your arms. I enjoy tying up pretty girls.”

“I guess,” I caved quickly, thinking of the huge discount she was granting me, “that’s okay.”

Another strap went around my torso just above my tits. Then she guided my left arm down next to the chair, and a second later, a padded metal ring closed around it. She stepped around and fixated my other arm. “Oh, the things I could do to you!” she exclaimed happily.

Back between my legs, she took a close look that made my cheeks explode with a fresh blush, a blush that deepened when she ran her fingers over my smooth pussy lips. “You did a good job with the waxing. I usually have to finish the job for my customers, but we can work with this.”

“Thanks. It stung like hell.”

She giggled. “That’s the price of beauty.” Suddenly, she looked contemplative. Then a wicked grin appeared on her lips. “You know, we could save a bit of time if we let Monique do your hair. I doubt we’ll have much traffic this afternoon anyway. Are you okay…” She trailed off, eyes narrowing, then smirked. “Know what, you’re not in a position to object anyway.” She went to the door and opened it. “Monique, do you have time to give me a hand with her hair?”

“Just a sec!” was the immediate reply.

I closed my eyes and tried to keep the full-body blush that wanted to spread out contained. It was no use.

“My, she’s a cute one,” the woman proclaimed. “What color?”

“Full pink. Eyebrows too.”

I opened one eye. Both were standing close together and grinning. Monique was rubbing her hands.

Then they moved a small washing basin behind the chair, and while Monique turned on the water and adjusted the temperature, Jolene slipped on surgical gloves and smiled. “Let’s get us started,” she declared and picked up a wad of cotton wool that she sprayed with something that smelled alcoholic. She dabbed it over my pussy lips, spreading a cold, moist feeling over them, just as her partner tilted my head back and began washing my hair.

Something pointy touched my pussy. I tried to look down, but Monique’s fingers held my head in place.

“I’m just drawing the outline,” Jolene told me.

I closed my eyes. Monique’s fingers felt lovely as they worked the shampoo into my hair. “That feels nice,” I whispered.

“This won’t,” I heard Jolene mumble, then a soft buzzing filled the air and I couldn’t contain the whimper.

A sharp pain started to radiate from the top of my left pussy lip. “Fuck!” I complained. “That hurts!” I could feel each quick stab of the tattoo needle, and it felt just like the dreaded finger pricks at the doctor’s for sugar tests. Well, not exactly like that.

A latex-clad finger wormed its way into my pussy, and I was sure that this wasn’t part of the normal routine. While the pain had pushed my arousal to the side, my pussy still was slightly lubricated from the excitement at my pending transformation that had built up all day.

Jolene used that lubrication and pushed her index finger all the way inside me, and the arousal was back instantly.

“Oh shit,” I gasped and felt my pussy walls clench around the intruder. The needle continued its painful dance and drove tears to my eyes.

“What?” Monique inquired, rinsing the shampoo off my hair.

The finger started to move in and out, and I was torn between pleasure and pain.

“Tell her,” Jolene urged. Monique wrung out my hair.

“She’s…” My cheeks burned. “She’s finger-fucking me.” I closed my eyes again. A tear trickled down my cheek, a salty witness of pain, arousal and embarrassment all rolled into one.

“I’ll have to protect your eyes so I can do your brows,” Monique told me, but I could hear excitement in her voice too. She coated the skin around them with something creamy and placed two cotton pads over them.

I was bound and blind now, completely at their mercy. My pussy clenched again and prompted a pleased chuckle from Jolene. The burning pain on my pussy lip grew steadily, and fresh tears joined the first one, but my arousal followed right behind it. For a wicked, breathless second, I realized that she could be tattooing anything onto my pussy without me noticing, even her own name, and I could do nothing about it. My nipples answered the wave of helpless feelings by tightening into needle-sharp points.

The smell of ammonia assaulted my nose. “She’s really getting off on it,” Monique observed, dabbing something into my hair.

“She’s the most submissive girl I’ve ever met,” Jolene explained, and I was glad that they couldn’t see my eyes. She started to crook her finger inside me and prompted a deep moan from my lips.

The buzzing stopped, and I breathed a sigh of relief as the feeling of being stabbed by cruel little needles left. Something wet coated my eyebrows and prickled on the skin. Then the buzzing started again.

“I’ll now do the outline.” The clinical tone in Jolene’s voice was betrayed when her thumb brushed over my clit. My hips tried to jerk to meet it, but my bonds held me unmovable.

“Owww!” I complained. This needle seemed to dig even deeper. My chest heaved. The pads over my eyes became soaked. Jolene’s thumb kept flicking my clit while she twisted her middle finger inside me.

“Be quiet!” she hissed, and that short sentence pushed me right into that submissive cocoon.

Warmth spread from my pussy all over my body. I whimpered, but I couldn’t say if from pain or pleasure.

The buzzing stopped, and something cold and burning dabbed over the raw patch of skin.

“There, all done,” Jolene declared.

I heard the clinking of metal as she put the tattoo gun away and took a few deep breaths. The pain slowly ebbed, leaving behind a hot, burning, arousing sensation.

“You can’t go to the ceremony this horny,” Jolene observed.

She was right. It was one thing to show up like a character right out of a comic book. It was something else to smell like a whorehouse.

She had a solution though. Two fingers pushed inside my pussy, and before I could think about it, she was finger-fucking me hard. Each thrust pushed a gasp from my chest and I felt my thighs start to tremble. My breath started to fly.

“Come for us!” she urged from far away, and two sets of cool fingers - Monique’s fingers - pinched my nipples.

Come I did; I came like a freight train, moaning and hissing and grunting, clenching my hands and curling my toes, straining in my bonds, and sparks of pleasure raced through me and danced before my eyes. My pussy clenched hard around the two rubber-encased fingers. My breath shook.

“We still have to wait ten minutes for the color to activate. We’ll be back then,” Monique told me.

I heard the unmistakable sound of gloves being pulled off, then a soft moan and barely discernable smacking sounds. Jolene and Monique weren’t just colleagues, I realized when the sound of a zipper accompanied their footsteps and the sound of a door opening, then closing, announced their exit.

My skin still tingled from the wonderful climax, and it took me a while to even out my breathing. I had done it! I almost jubilated aloud.

Ages later - probably ten minutes - the two of them came back. Monique washed the color from my hair and working conditioner into it. “It’s going to look great,” she told me. “Did I hear Jolene right that you’re doing this for the graduation ceremony?”

“Uh-uh,” I confirmed with a slight nod. “It’s Anne’s graduation gift from me.”

“Anne? That Anne?” she asked, a question to which I could only shrug - or try to, as I didn’t have much wiggle room.

“Yes, that Anne,” Jolene confirmed. “Pucker your lips and stay still.” I felt her paint my lips with a brush, then trace the outline with a lip liner.

The conversation stopped for a few minutes while Monique blow-dried my hair, a feeling that I thoroughly enjoyed.

The chair was tilted upright and the eye pads were removed, but Jolene’s body was between me and the mirror, and closed my eyes obediently when she held up eye-shade and a brush for me to see. She spent a few minutes applying shade, tracing the contour of my lids, brushing my lashes into form and putting blusher onto my cheekbones.

“Done!” she finally proclaimed happily. “Keep your eyes closed though.” One by one, the buckles were released, and when my feet touched the floor again, I breathed a sigh of relief. The position had become rather uncomfortable. Two hands guided me upright, and I finally was allowed to open my eyes.

“Wow!” At first, I didn’t recognize the girl looking back at me. I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Oh god, this is perfect!” Jolene and Monique were standing next to me and looking quite pleased with themselves. My hair shone in the brightest, deepest pink possible, and with my eyebrows in the same color and the pink lips and eyes, I felt almost like a doll. And on my pussy, taking up all of my left lip, stood Anne’s name, declaring her ownership in shiny, embossed, pink letters. “Thank you!” I exclaimed and hugged Jolene, pressing a smacking kiss onto her lips, then turned around and did the same to Monique.

I blushed madly immediately afterwards, but they didn’t appear to mind.

“How late is it?” I had absolutely no idea about the time.

“Quarter to three,” Jolene told me after glance at her watch. “No need to hurry. Is that the dress in the bag?” She pointed to the shopping bag I had put down next the the wall.

I nodded and went over, pulling the dress out of it and slipping it on. They both watched me avidly. I brushed the wrinkles out of it, then picked up the stockings and shoes and sat down on the edge of the chair. The stockings still felt as smooth as the day before, and I felt another small flame of arousal between my thighs while I slid them up my thighs.

Once the high-heels were fastened around my ankles, I slowly stood up. Their eyes were wide and full of admiration.

“Does it work?” I asked, still insecure, and tried to find my balance.

“Does it work?” Jolene giggled. “It’s fucking brilliant. God, Anne’s such a lucky girl!”

“Hey,” Monique piped in, “I’m in the room, you know!”

“But pink isn’t your color!” They both chuckled at their banter. “Let’s close the shop for a few minutes and have coffee in the front room,” Jolene suggested. I could do with one, so I happily agreed.

* * * *

“...and, yeah, you know how Anne is. The name just stuck.”

Jolene and Monique both had tears in their eyes and were holding their tummies once I had finished telling them the story of how I had come to be Bunnie. They were both fun to be around. Jolene had all kinds of crazy ideas about people and things and brought up the most hilarious observations, and Monique had, while a little quieter, a sharp tongue and a dry sense of humor. After half an hour of small-talk, it felt as if they were old friends.

“It’s time,” I stated with a deep sigh, and Monique headed over to the counter to ring up the cosmetics she had already handed me in a small bag.

“That’s eighty-five,” she told me, and I payed her.

“Thank you again,” I told them with heartfelt sincerity.

“No need to thank us,” Jolene answered, speaking for both of them, flipped the ‘closed’ sign around and unlocked the door. “It was our pleasure, really. Now scoot and make Anne the happiest girl in the world!”

“I will!” I replied, walking outside with a spring in my step and waving at them. “Yes, I will.”

* * * *

The assembly hall was filled to bursting already when I arrived, but I had consciously timed my entrance. I didn’t want to get swarmed by curious classmates, so I had waited until everyone had taken their seat.

The downside, I realized, was that every single pair of eyes, hundreds of them, swivelled to me the moment I stepped inside, and the buzzing of excited murmurs accompanied every step as I made my way to the middle of the second row of seats where Anne had saved me a place next to her.

Anne, herself, was frozen. She just stared at me, unblinking. I sat down next to her, and for a panicked moment, I thought I had made a total mess of things.

A strange look came over her eyes and I held my breath. Then her lips and cheeks started to tremble.

“Anne?” I whispered, worried.

The smile that pulled up the corners of her mouth was like the sun breaking through darkness. “Bunnie!” she exclaimed in a whispered, choked sob, and a tear trickled down her cheek.

“Did I… did I do something wrong?” My own eyes moistened and my heart constricted. I didn’t understand the feelings on her face, nor their echoes in my own heart.

“Wrong?” She threw back her head and laughed, and the murmurs around us died. She turned towards me, cupped both of my cheeks with her hands and stared deep into my eyes. More tears dampened her cheeks. but the smile was still there and, if anything, even brighter. “God, Bunnie,” she told me, not caring that anybody around us could hear, “I’ve never met anyone as perfect as you. You’re the wettest, pinkest dream I could ever have had. Fuck, I love you so much!”

And then, she kissed me. She kissed right here in the assembly halls, with professors, classmates and parents watching, and the passion with which she assaulted my mouth took my breath away and made my heart dance with joy.

I started to see spots dancing in my vision when we finally came up for air, both out of breath as if we had run a marathon. The silence in the room was absolute, but then someone started to clap. Cat-calls sounded all around us. There was probably the one or other shout of outrage, but those were quickly drowned out by the thundering applause.

I don’t think I’ve ever blushed as madly as then. Anne gave me a tear-filled, grinning wink, and I winked back.

* * * *

I hadn’t expected it, but the hall almost went stir-crazy when I walked towards the dais to fetch my graduation certificate. My knees shook and my cheeks burned like mad. Professor Morrison, the dean, look me up and down critically before he handed it to me, but then he shrugged and winked. “Well, this is definitely the most colorful graduation ceremony we’ve held. Congratulations, and good luck in your future.”

My grin tried to rip the corners of my mouth apart.

Once we both had our certificates, paying attention to the rest of the ceremony became hard. We had to sit through another ten minutes of classmates fetching theirs, then half an hour of speeches, but, finally, we were through.

“I’m starved!” Anne told me and linked her fingers with mine, pulling me behind her through the throng of others heading outside for the buffet too. My giggled “Tell me about it!” went unheard in the crowd.

We approached one of the lesser crowded tables with vegetarian finger food when a shout made me spin around.

“Brittany Weston!”

I cringed.

“What, in the name of all that’s holy, is this supposed to mean?”

I stared at my stepmom, who was stalking across the lawn like a fury, dressed in one of her overly flaky gowns, and rolled my eyes. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“You’d have know if you had answered your telephone, miss!”

“Perhaps I didn’t answer it for a reason.”

“Stop your juvenile act and explain what’s gotten into that crazy head of yours?”

I had never really gotten on with her and her stupid, narrow-minded beliefs. And now that I had finished college and could earn my own money, I had not the tiniest inclination to play her stupid games anymore. I looked at Anne, who appeared rather uncomfortable. “Be careful,” I told her, loud enough that my stepmom could hear, “it’ll be brimstone and fire any second now.”

“Brittany!”

I turned my back to her. “Let’s get something to eat, I haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

I should have expected the hand that pulled me around hard. I almost stumbled, but Anne’s hand in mine kept me upright.

“You’ll come home with me this instant.” I flinched. She had gone from shouting to screeching.

Time to put an end to the show. “No,” I told her softly.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I’ll not be coming home. I’ll be staying here with my girlfriend. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be coming home.”

“Girlfriend? Rubbish!” At least, her voice was a little quieter again. “What do you want to do here? The lease for your room is going to expire, and you don’t have a job! Now stop making a spectacle and come along!”

“Actually,” Anne chimed in, and I recognized the steely determination I had only gotten to feel a few times, “she does have a job. She’ll be working in a new fashion studio together with me.”

That shut her up. Me as well. I searched Anne’s face and found no hint of insincerity. Had she really… my mind went back to the time when I had modelled her shoes for the exam, and to Miss Morgan’s, the head examiner’s, innuendo.

“Brittany?” This time, her voice was slightly trembling.

“I’m not coming.”

“What did we do wrong?” my stepmom asked, suddenly lacking the fury in her voice.

“Not much,” I told her. “But I have my own life now, my own friends…” I glanced at Anne and gave her hand a squeeze. “...my own love. I’m happy here.”

Her shoulders slumped. Perhaps I had been too hard on her. But then, she had always had that commandeering streak that drove me up trees.

“Please. Don’t be a stranger.” This wasn’t the over-confident, strict, rule-imposing woman I had known.

I caved. “I won’t.” Suddenly, I found myself wrapped up in a hug by her. And to my absolute astonishment, Anne was included in that hug, and a soft kiss by my stepmom touched first my, then Anne’s cheek.

“Take care of each other and visit us from time to time, please!” Tears trickled over her cheeks and smeared her makeup.

My own vision blurred. “We will.”

“Yes, we will. I’ll spank her if she forgets to.”

I felt my stepmom stiffen for a moment and thought this was too much. But then she relaxed, and it was as if she became a different woman. “You two are really serious?” she asked, slowly ending the hug. I had never seen her face so soft.

“Totally,” I confirmed.

“What am I going to tell your dad though?”

I shrugged, but Anne came to my rescue. “Tell him that he has raised a beautiful and clever daughter who aced her exams and will rock the world, even if she can be a bit crazy sometimes. And that, if he asks me, she’s most brilliant and lovable girl in the world.”

All three of us were rubbing our eyes now. “Let’s freshen up and get something to eat,” I suggested. “How does that sound?”

Anne’s stomach grumbled, and we giggled.

While we walked towards the ladies’ rooms, Anne whispered into my ear, “You’re in for a very long, very sexy weekend, Bunnie. I’m going to fuck you in every possible way and some, until you can’t cum anymore.”

“As long as you aren’t gentle,” I whispered back, pinching her bum.

“Bad Bunnie,” she hissed. “Tell me, do the high heel hurt?”

“Like bitches,” I confessed.

“Good. You’ll be wearing them all weekend then.”

* * * *

Epilogue

I leaned back with a sigh, finally finished with adding up all the new orders and payments, and shut the lid of the laptop. “Mmmm,” I purred with closed eyes when Anne’s fingers started massaging my shoulders. “Never stop that!”

“I have to. We’re invited to dinner with Miss Morgan, remember?”

I groaned. I really liked the older teacher and her kinky games, but I was dead on my feet. “Can’t you just take Amy with you?” We had snatched the curly beauty as an employee as soon as she had graduated, and she had quickly become much more than that.

“I could,” Anne whispered into my ear, “but I’m not sure that you really want that.” A soft thud sounded from the table in front of me. I peeked through one eye and immediately recognized the bundle of clothes and the high heels atop it.

I lifted an eyebrow. “Pink Bunnie time?”

She sighed. Then something in the same pink color dangled in front of my eyes. It took me a second to focus, but then I recognized the strip of soft, shiny leather for what it was. “A collar?”

“Your collar.” She nibbled softly on my neck. “We’ve planned an official collaring ceremony. Everybody’s going to be there, and I mean really everybody.”

Suddenly, all tiredness evaporated, pushed aside by excitement. “Really?” I spun around, hopping onto the chair on my knees, and hugged her. “Of course I’m coming! Oh my god, thank you!”

She giggled. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Hush. You’ve worked like crazy all week. You’ve deserved the time off for our honeymoon.”

I gasped. “Honeymoon?”

“Maldives.”

“Wow! Oh my god, we’re going to the Maldives!” I jumped off the chair and twirled around. “This is so great!”

“Hey, slowly,” Anne calmed me, grinning. “First there’s the collaring.”

“Is Miss Morgan going to officiate?”

Anne’s grin grew even wider, but she didn’t say anything.

“Come on,” I urged, “spill it!”

She let me dangle like a fish on a hook until I was close to bursting with curiosity. “Bao,” she finally whispered.

I froze, but there was no hint of the old jealousy in her face. I twirled again. “This is going to be great.”

She pulled me into another hug, then kissed me lovingly. I melted in her arms. “I guess we need to remember,” I whispered between kisses, giggling softly, “to bring lots of welt salve on our honeymoon.”

~~ THE END ~~

Author’s notes: thank you all for partaking in this long and adventurous journey with me. This is my first completed real novel, 75,000 words in whole, and I wouldn’t have found the energy to work out the kinks and whip it into shape without all the encouraging words you sent me. Your lovely comments and votes made me want to give my best and have brightened many of my days. I hope you had as much fun reading as I had writing this novel, and I want to send you a big, heartfelt thank you for your company and patience.