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"A story for anyone who has ever found themselves flirting with the stranger in the mirror."

The following fancy dress party is brought to you by FA: driftli thanks to a generous donation from the FA: tobiwanz fund.

Continuity note:"Fancy That" takes place after the events of Are You Being Attended? but can be enjoyed as a stand alone.

Disclaimer: Anya, Shila, and Doxie are characters of erotic fantasy, and are not meant to represent real world transgender or intersex individuals. Keep your wet dreams separate from other people's reality, and we will all be the happier for it.

Though the term school girl is bandied about, the young women appearing in the following story are all around 18-20 years of age, attending a sixth form college (think a sort of junior college.) I somehow doubt they would actually be wearing uniforms, but it will serve for the purpose of this story. Have a bit of fun, and just go with it.

Anya's difficulty with English is not meant to be seen as a lack of intelligence on her part. It is simply a way to highlight something unique about the character, without getting into such a complicated dialect as to make her speech patterns unreadable. I have nothing but the utmost respect for anyone who can manage a second language while I still struggle with my first.

Finally, Anya's aggressive approach plays fast and loose with her partner's ability to consent. Basically, its somewhere between extreme dominance and semi-noncon. If you have a zero tolerance when it comes to such themes, feel free to check out some of my other stories. As always, when it comes to real world encounters, enthusiastic consent is the way to go.

Characters:

Anya, Shila, and Doxie are all owned by FA: driftli

Tobi is owned by FA: tobiwanz

Please enjoy!

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Fancy That by Bishiebunny

A prefab costume can be just the thing to add a bit of spice to a stale bedroom. There are no safety words to learn, no rubbery bits to fill the cupboards, and they rarely lead to awkward questions from disapproving in-laws. Better still, they rarely lead to awkward questions from approving in-laws. The fantasy is there when one needs it, offering casual role-play and a borrowed sense of slut. Later, it can be hung up in the closet, or dry-cleaned after a particularly satisfying evening. It functions as the mythological sheet through which guilt-free sin can be committed.

After all, it was not you who broke a bucking broncho to the melody of squeaking box springs. It was the Slutty Sea-wench, and we all know what type of wench she is. It's right there in the adjective.

They are not that hard to come by either. A curious couple can skim through the selection at their local fancy dress shop, or see what can be found online with a safe search set to moderate. If they are feeling particularly cheeky, they may visit one of the more posh adult establishments. Preferably the sort that are brightly lit, keep all of their erotic hardware categorized by size, and are run by well-meaning, if embarrassingly inquisitive, sex-positive tradeswomen. With the right amount of dosh, and an open attitude toward spandex and flammable knickers, it is quite possible to satisfy one's desire for Delicious Devils, Kinky Kitties, and Saucy Schoolgirls.

Anything more complicated usually requires an affinity for purple every sixteenth of January.

Tobi, who would have worn purple had it not clashed with the rest of his ensemble, had nothing against costumes, but he knew their place. Costumes were condoms for fantasies, a receptacle for the leftover residue of spent desire. They were made for safe play, for the dirty dabblers, for those who had work in morning, and required a judgement-free mirror while they slipped into the uniform that defined the rest of their lives.

It was that uniform that interested Tobi. He also had work to do, but he was the night crew, when judgmental mirrors were turned round about. While a prefab costume could give a couple a veneer of fantasy, a veil that separated them from the sticky film of true perversion, a defiled uniform was going at it bareback. No too-short skirt in garish pinks, topped by a cardboard stewardess cap, was going to live up to an official British Airways uniform, ripped by passion, reeking of the sexual fluids that had been spilled in a moment of erotic excess.

Tobi had recently acquired such an outfit on his trip back from the states, a reward for a week spent indulging a rather insistent husky cock. It was now a treasured possession and an example of why his club tended toward uniforms rather than costumes. A costume formed the basis for a comforting lie, while a defiled uniform told an uncomfortable truth. There was no hiding it away in the closet, no safety from the morning after. There was only you, and what you had done, and what you hoped to do in the future.

This was especially true when it came to the time-honored tradition of the naughty school girl, or in the case of Tobi's establishment, the naughty school MILF. There was just no substitute for an authentic academic uniform, two sizes too small, clinging desperately to the lush hips of a round-bottomed, adult beauty. The pimp cat paid extra for the authenticity, and the outfit rarely survived more than a few weeks of steady use, but his employees were worth the expense, and his clients agreed.

That was why Tobi was currently sifting through pleated skirts, fingering the fabric, considering thread count, and looking for a proper fit. The filtering feline had already tried on a handful of skirts, blouses, and feminine accessories, making use of a conveniently large fitting room. This had nothing to do with cross-dressing, at least not in the conventional sense. He simply refused to make a purchase until he knew how the material hung about the body. The fashionista within would settle for nothing less, and there was an element of pride in knowing he had never asked his employees to fuck in anything he had not at least twirled about in.

Not that he was particularly keen on having this quirk revealed to his workforce. They shared enough dirty secrets as it was, and while none of them were liable to judge, and a few might have been aroused, there was such a thing as professional distance. Besides, let your employees know you've got the hips to work a skirt, and you'll never see your trousers again.

Tobi, who loved his trousers, had picked a shop where none of his staff was liable to happen by. It was a sleepy little establishment, as close to the outskirts of town as one could get before the locals started having weird ideas about preserving custard pie and strawberry jam. You could see the city proper from here, but the press of it was gone, along with the majority of the smell. To get anywhere fun required a bus pass and a dedicated afternoon. Most of the commerce in the area was devoted toward supplying a local sixth year college with the essential pubs and eateries.

Unfortunately, in ducking his employees, Tobi had stumbled into something far more insidious: the Walking Co-ed.

He had always been wary of younger women. They were often unsure of what they wanted, or how far to take a casual encounter. Older women were easier in that regard. They knew what they wanted, and they were usually the first to inform their partners when a romantic moment had passed its due. They were also a bit better when it came to sharing, which was a must given his lifestyle. Tobi felt it was best to leave the young women to the young men, while he paid a visit to their mothers, aunties, and older sisters.

Still, it had been a difficult morning. They seemed to sense his presence, an unattended male, ripe for tease and experimental flirting. More than once, a young woman had squeezed through the narrow alleys between clothing racks, ever-so-accidentally pressing her own curved rack to grind against the feline. Shoes were dangled from satin-clad toes, while loose blouses were given unconscious tugs. Skirts were lifted with innocent expressions, asking if anybody could check their tights for runs. Given the number of lickable lollies rolling about wet, freshly glossed lips, the local candy shops must be doing a brisk business.

Somehow, Tobi had managed to stay focused, though in desperate need of a cold shower. With a whimper, he selected a hunter green skirt, adding it to the white blouse he had already acquired. The full uniform would have included a pair of smokey tights, but the feline figured he would leave the leggings to the bunnies. It was not as though he planned to work the streets in this get up.

His crimson eyes drifted about the establishment, pleased to find it almost empty. Perhaps the majority had given up the hunt, off to find easier, more attentive prey. If only they had known how depressingly easy he really was, how close Tobi had come to breaking. One more arched backside, with soft lips pressed into a pout, and a young woman might have well scored herself a sugar daddy.

This was why Madam Hazel saw to the majority of the company finances.

His poor wallet safe for the time being, the frazzled feline considered the two young women left, obviously more interested in their conversation than tormenting a Tobi. The short-bodied, short-haired, blonde cheetah, wearing what looked to be some sort of jogging ensemble, was supposed to be minding the shop. Instead, she was minding her visiting schoolmate, one who happened to be wearing the same uniform he had in hand, plus stockings. Her friend was a dusky furred, red-headed vixen who seemed to burst into a pink blush at the slightest provocation. At the moment, the shy vulpine was doing her very best to pretend that the he did not exist, pointedly not looking in his direction, possibly for fear of spontaneously combusting through sheer embarrassment.

He could not have been more than a couple years their senior, yet somehow that felt like a lifetime. So many disappointments ahead for those two, from ineffectual lovers to inadequate paychecks. Of course, Tobi could see to both, with a carefully placed business card set between heaving, sweat-stained breasts, after a wild night spent making sure their potential boyfriends would never measure up.

Wait, what? Tobi blinked, shaking the dangerous notion from his school girl oppressed brain. When had he stopped merely fingering feminine garments, and started daydreaming about young women bent over a shop counter, stuffed with kitty cock? Explaining the uniform in hand would be tricky enough without also having to excuse a painfully primed erection. Keeping his back between the young women and the impressive bulge pressing against his trouser leg, he retreated to the fitting room, trying to convince the sullen throb that he would tend to its needs once they found safer surroundings.

The cheetah caught a glimpse of Tobi as he disappeared behind the back curtain, a slow, wet smile lighting atop her lips as she turned to her friend. "So what do you think?"

"I- I think that's the fourth skirt he's sneaked into the fitting room, Shila" nervous fingers reached up, curling a dusky digit around a loose strand of crimson hair. "And that's just since I arrived. So what"

"So that makes him a right pervert, Doxie," Shila's grin slipped into something predatory, "And that makes him free game, don't it?"

"I don't know," Doxie fidgeted, pressing herself against the counter, grinding something thick against the wood, trying to tame a recently awoken beast. "I- I mean, he's pretty enough. Maybe even too pretty." Don't think about that ripe kitty backside, don't think about that ripe kitty bac- the sudden thump against the shop's counter decided the issue. "O-oh okay, fine. But how do we do this? Not really our kind of hunt, is it?"

Shila snorted, "Says the young woman who turned last months social into a literal clusterfuck." The shorter cheetah reached into her baggy sweats, pulling out a slim phone. Technically, she was out of uniform for her part-time job, but the owner allowed it, after a little convincing on the blonde's part. Funny what one will agree to after only a few hours, handcuffed to a bed, with all her friends in attendance. At any rate, it was so much easier hiding her own arousal in pants with a bit of give to them. "Didja know I got a bonus for all the soiled uniforms those hard-stuffed strumpets had to replace?"

"That doesn't count! They were locals," Doxie whimpered, trying to wrestle down a skirt that seemed determined to hover under the mystical power of a levitating cock. "And I paid my fair share of that," the vixen sniffed, not realizing some of her pocket money had ended up in her friend's pocket. "B-besides, you know I'm better with girls."

"Yeah, me too, which is we're calling in an expert." Agile fingers danced about a virtual phone pad, stuffing a mouthful into one hundred and forty characters.

***

On a hanger, suspended from the hook to his left, Tobi had hung his white jacket and black dress shirt, after having removed them with the sort of care that was usually reserved for snipping the green wire, never the red. Atop them sat the last white tiger-stripped fedora to have been purchased this century without a trace of irony. Wrinkle free and recently brushed for lint, a fine set of trousers hung in a similar fashion from the hook to his right. Looped around this hook was a crimson scarf, broken up by alternating patterns of pitch black chevrons and their inverted cousins. The ends of which fell till they puddled atop a low bench that held a few personal accessories, dark dress socks, and his two-toned co-respondent shoes, following the color pattern set by the rest of his ensemble.

This comprised Tobi's personal and professional uniform, though it was a subdued version, without a falcon feather or diamond-studded pimp-cane to be found. Still, it was a fine example of how an albino peacock might conduct itself in the red light district. It was not the sort of uniform one could defile, but it looked quite smart when defiling others.

Tobi spared it a lover's look before refocusing his attention on the mirror at the end of the long, somewhat narrow fitting room. The blouse had buttoned together easy enough, though the cut was feminine. Sure, it was a bit loose in the front, a bit tight at the shoulders, but overall, he was pleased with the fit. He would want something a bit larger for his heavier chested girls, but it had a nice style, and the buttons had the right sort of give. They would struggle around his plumper employees, stretched tightly about expansive breasts, contents suffering under tremendous pressure. Yet, they would hold, at least until it was time to pop, sending an avalanche of warmth to tumble about a client's face.

The imagined visual did nothing to settle his disgruntled cock as it tried to work its way out of his silken boxers.

No. He would not be caught tending to an erection, in a fitting room, half dressed in a school girl's attire. Tobi had few boundaries, and nothing that could rightly be called a taboo, but if a line had to be drawn, that was right about where it sat. Instead, he readdressed the school tie, smarting it up a bit, tight and crisp.

"Very nice," smirked the snow-white feline, admiring the tomboyish young woman that starred back at him from the mirror. And it was quite nice. That is, if he discounted the train-wreck going on below the hem of his loosely settled blouse.

Skirts and boxers had never got on particularly well, but Tobi refused to free his over-sized man-bits to wander about a garment that might be worn by an innocent shopper. Somehow, he was going to have to get the skirt in place without removing his satin undies. That was not even counting the raging erection trying to make a difficult situation even worse. "Down boy, down! I promise you will have my full and undivided attention once we're back at the flat." He caught his reflection in the mirror again, and sighed.

Was he seriously trying to negotiate with a hard-on, while wearing a blouse, with a skirt half-way up his thighs?

The sudden, insistent knock was a blessed distraction. Tobi glanced over his shoulder, just to be sure the lock was set, before responding, "Occupied, and might well be for a bit. Try the other one." When answered by silence, he returned his attention to the skirt, giving it a tug, one hand pressing downward on an aggravated bulge.

He had just gotten the hem over the initial bump when his ears twitched, detecting that all-too-familiar click of a key setting tumblers into their proper place. "Wh-hoah. Whoah! Someone's in here, punter!" His body turned awkwardly, one hand reaching for the door handle, while the other tried to push a bunched skirt off his person. Tobi managed to fail on both counts.

The garment tangled up about his knees, transforming his frantic, forward momentum into a stumbling crash. Gravity was all too happy to take it from there, welcoming the fallen feline onto the floor, his confused twist putting him on his back. Straining fingers worked in a futile attempt, barely brushing the underside of a now spinning knob.

Well enough, Tobi thought as the jarring impact worked its way through his system, I am reasonably sure I can explain this.

Ducking the door as it swung inward, Tobi felt something soft brush against his extended arm, causing him to snatch it back to his chest. His eyes wandered upward, catching well-toned, delightfully shaped legs. Powerful calves led to pleasantly thick thighs, covered in a ruby-red fur, with patterns dyed a brilliant sapphire blue. They disappeared under a familiar hunter green skirt, where bottom fur mimicked a heart-shaped pair of white knickers. Between those long legs, an electric blue, feminine sex glistened, dripping a translucent dribble to land in a spatter against his cheek. Something else lay just above that sex, something that might have been mistaken for an awfully engorged clit, were it not still growing, tenting the young woman's skirt.

The long-legged rabbit eyed her fallen prey with a delighted grin, running a cobalt blue tongue along glossed, azure lips. Long ears, opened wide by thickly gauged hoops, twitched in anticipation, matching the motion of an excited cottontail. Shila was right to call Anya in for something like this. The wicked rabbit was an expert in getting cute boys into, and out-of skirts, priming them for their new roles as her personal playthings, before passing them around to her friends. She did so enjoy her work, almost as much as she enjoyed her play.

"Sorry, I," Tobi tried to roll forward and out from between the young woman's legs, ready to make as many apologies and cash payments as would be required, "was jus- " He was cut short when the school girl put her foot down, pinning him to the floor with a leather loafer. "If you would just give me a moment to explain. Heh, it is so not what it looks like."

"Oh? I do hope you are vrong. Because vhat it looks like is lot of fun, da- err, yes?" Her English was exacting, carefully dolled out as though every word had to be filtered through another language before slipping past her lips. Though playful. her voice was thick, like someone speaking with a mouth half full of cream, and there was definitely some struggle involved with the "w" sounds. German maybe? No, more Slavic, Russian more like. It was the sort of accent an MI6 operative might hear right before enduring something ridiculously brutal or, if he was especially lucky, incredibly sexy.

Tobi grunted as she leveraged her foot against his chest, using it to slip one shoe off, before kicking it to the side. The next moment, she was balancing her entire weight on the startled feline, removing her other shoe as he braced himself against the fitting room wall with spread arms. His long, agitated tail flicked anxiously underneath. "Seriously, if you would just let me explain; this is just a daft misunderstanding."

"Nozing to explain, kotyonok," Anya spun about his chest, admiring the way he handled her weight. He might have some awfully feminine hips for a boy, but there were decent muscles backing them up. Good, he would need them. Standing on his chest, shortening his breath with her weight, she stroked the side of his cheek with the ball of her foot. "You vant to be girl d- yes? I am happy to help. Only question is good girl or bad girl?"

Tobi tried to pull his face away from the young woman's foot. It was warm and soft, and had a faintly earthy scent from its time spent within her shoes, not at all unpleasant. She had some awfully agile toes, and there was no denying she knew the right way to rub, but this was a bit much for a first meeting, even in his profession. "No, see you have it all wrong ways about. I wa- ulp!"

"So bad girl? Needs to learn how to be good girl?" Anya barely suppressed a giggle as she shoved the front of her foot between the feline's open lips. He looked adorable like that, white cheeks breaking into a bright pink blush, nose flaring as she wiggled her toes within his mouth. "Mm, I seem to have cat by tongue," she cooed, flexing the agile digits that had caught his wet muscle. "Maybe kotyonok tends to Anya's toes?"

Tobi had never been a good boy, much less a good girl, but he could play the role if it got him upright again. Besides, submitting to her "request" seemed better than risking the rabbit shoving the rest of her foot down his throat, particularly given her precarious balance. He pulled his tongue from between her toes, but signified his willingness to obey with an indulgent lick along their bottoms. They were somewhat salty, yet mostly a bland warmth that filled his mouth, spiced heavily by kink. His hands moved to steady her feet, resisting the urge to just send the young woman tumbling. There was no telling where she would come down, and he had several favorite bits she might have squished along the way.

His right hand saw to the foot attached to the toes between his lips, stroking along her sole, coaxing it out of his mouth. He rewarded her retreat with a comforting rub and attentive kisses along her arch. His left hand slid along... what was it, Anya? It slid along Anya's other calf with a more purposeful stroke, careful not to send the sort of ticklish tingles that would have the rabbit stumbling.

"Mm. You are good. Not your first time?" Anya chuckled, enjoying the attentive kisses from below, though pulling her foot from his grasp whenever she decided she would rather tweak his nose with her toes, or cover his face entirely. She played as if prepared to smother the boy underneath, but when she felt his long tongue slink about her arched sole, she tittered happily, and lessened the pressure. "Better. I see you are good girl after all."

Tobi eyed the young woman warily, trying to catch a breath that wasn't filtered through her soles. Suddenly, her weight was off his chest, her legs sliding to either side of the prone feline. Her back was now to him, one ear twitching as she studied his legs. Perfect. All he had to do was lunge forward, catch this cwazy wabbit as she fell, then back away toward the door. And he would get right to that, just as soon as he caught his breat- Oh god, was she falling?

Anya's ripe bottom slammed hard onto Tobi's chest, knocking loose what little air he had scored. She had thrown her hands back as she fell, one palm slapping against the feline's shoulder, the other hitting the floor. Even braced for it, she had to admit the impact had rattled her molars. Still, bunnies bounced. That was just how they were built. Powerful thighs and meaty hips had seen to her safety, and the poor boy underneath had even tried to catch her. All he had really managed to do was pin his arms under her plump backside. "Better zan I hoped," the rabbit chuckled, her tail twitching happily. "Are you o' kay, kotyonok?"

"A-are you," Tobi was having difficulty getting the air to complete his sentence. "C-completely," she was a good deal lighter than most of his playmates who tended toward voluptuous MILFs with massive asses that could smother a man whole, but she knew how to work what she had. "Mental?" Hands trapped underneath her body, the feline tried to grab onto something, anything to leverage the mad rabbit off. Fingers wrapped around a heated thickness that stiffened in response to his touch, swelling into his palm and leaving a pearl of white to dribble onto his wrist.

That was not what he had meant to grab, and it was certainly not an over-sized clit.

"Mm, eager to please," Anya cooed, pressing forward, grinding several inches of blue bunny cock between her captive's fingers. Delighted, she tightened her own grip on his shoulder. Her other hand pulled out a crumple of nylon fabric from a small, electric blue purse, detailed with cartoon bunny skulls. "I see you do not like tights." She brought the nylon to her lips, catching a bit of her friend's humid flavor as she stretched the fabric out with her teeth, revealing a recently-worn stocking. "Anya is ze same way. So itchy and uncomfortable, da? But good for taming bad girls zhat touch too soon."

Tobi felt warm nylon wrapping about his wrists, binding them together. "Is this really necessary?"

"Doxie did not zink so, but she gave tights anyway," Anya chuckled, finishing the make-shift bondage with a little bow. "Anya zink it best to keep new girl bound until ready to mind her zaichik. Keeps kotyonok from making mistakes. Hate to spank a bottom I could pound instead."

"Enough," Tobi grunted, pulling his wrists apart, or at least making a good show of the attempt. He found that nylon, when looped several times over, was surprisingly resistant to tear. "Look here, little rabbit, I don't know where your mum is b- ulp! Murrph!"

"Sorry kotyonok. Afraid you vill say something you should not." Anya snorted, settling her backside atop Tobi's face. She squirmed as he grunted obscenities into her humid valley, muffling whatever he had to say, and turning it into pleasurable vibrations against her tight, cobalt blue backdoor. Her hands gripping his own, she pushed back a bit harder, wrapping up the entirety of her captive's head between supple cheeks, enclosing her kittens face with soft, sweat-stained flesh. When she felt the face below go slack with a whimper, she ground playfully, "Nyet. No pouting, kotyonok."

It was not the biggest butt to ever engulf Tobi's head, yet there was more than enough of it to lose himself in a musky, slick darkness. The slightly wrinkled flesh that met his lips was blue, rather than pink, but the press of it was almost nostalgic. The grind from above began to gather momentum, turning into a bounce, her hips rolling into a smother. His restricted view began to waver, then burst into glittering sparks as the pressure increased and his oxygen decreased. He found himself gasping, taking in what air he could when her motion allowed, finding it tasting strongly of her unfamiliar flavor.

With his mouth open, her flesh met both lips and tongue, and Anya aimed herself to take advantage of his rising submission. Tobi was not the first boy broken under her bottom, and she doubted he would be the last. Still, judging by the heat of his breath and the size of that lovely bulge fidgeting against his silken boxers, he might very well be one of the best. It was time to offer up a bit of encouragement. "More tongue, kotyonok, and Anya vill take very good care of you."

Her tone promised things he knew better than to want. That was how this all worked, right? The Mistress coaxes a moment's arousal, turning a spark into a pyre of frustrated desire; one she promises to satisfy, if only her prey would only stop resisting. Tobi knew the game, having spent long hours under bottoms wielded by experts in the art of breaking all manner of playthings. Armed with that experience, he might have resisted, had her thick thighs not suddenly shifted, catching his upper arms as soft feet began to rub along his chest. The blouse he wore was made of a sturdy material, but her toes were agile, attentive, and they were slipping downward. He could only imagine what they might do once they found his traitorous erection.

"Come now, kotyonok, give Anya your tongue," Anya cooed, catching sight of herself in the mirror, and enjoying the view. She gave another grind against the stubborn kitten's face, demanding with her bottom, rewarding with her feet. Down her toes slipped, finding the hem of his boxers, and then pushing them till they met with the jumble of skirt around his knees. When Tobi's cock sprung free, she tittered happily, "Mm, bad girl is nice. Good girl is better. But big girl is best." Her toes brushed the side of his finally freed, glistening shaft, admiring the size of it.

In return, it promptly erupted.

Tobi heard Anya's gasp, muffled by her heavy, white ass, as a sudden wave of pleasure overtook him. It was less an intimate affair, less the culmination of a lover's romantic attention, and more the release of pressures bound too long and too tight. Tobi moaned against the rabbit's bottom, pumping ropes of spent cream freely, only to slither down the side of his still-erect cock, puddling about his balls. Well, what had not ended up landing in a sizzle atop Anya's foot.

What did she expect? She saw how hard he was. Could she really blame him for erupting at the first pleasurable touch? Serves her right and furthermore, f-further...! Nnng, not fair, not both of them at once.

Anya rocked her feet up and down his still quite-hard shaft, enjoying how it throbbed between them. Her sensual soles slid along his member, slick with recent release. They caught at the loose edges of his flesh, pulling it up before pressing it back down, stretching his hardness into a dark knot of rising tension. Fresh burbles of premature spunk made a creamy mess of her arches, but she hardly minded. Besides, "Bad to make mess, but good to still be hard for Anya." She would just have to milk the boy a bit, make a nice puddle to play in. The rabbit was not one for teaching her pets restraint, only obedience.

Speaking of which, Anya gripped Tobi's silken locks, admiring the rich, raven black of his hair, with its crimson streaks. She loved how long and full it was, happy that her new girl would have such a luxurious mane that the rabbit could style as she saw fit. That would come later; for now, she wanted his tongue. "Still, Anya took good care of you, just like she said. Time to take care of your zaichik." It was no longer a suggestion. She yanked his face forward by the hair, no longer relying on grind or gravity to put her boy onto task. "Lick!"

Hard against her bottom, his face pressed deeply, till there was nothing but a dark rim quivering before his lips, demanding his attention. Oxygen starved, head wooly from tension and rekindled arousal, he found himself wondering why he was resisting in the first place. It was not as though he didn't enjoy shoving his tongue as deep up his lovers' backsides as it could possibly go. Besides, he was damn good at it. It might be giving her what she wanted, but there was a rising sense that this was what he needed.

Eh, fuck it.

Arching in delight, Anya squealed as a wet, attentive muscle lapped about her blue rim. She kept it clean and properly maintained for exactly this purpose. To be one of Anya's pets meant to know every inch of her, to have her taste memorized. The rabbit cooed, thinking that this was merely the start. Soon her new pretty would know more about her, and himself, than he ever dreamed possible.

One hand reached back, spreading her left cheek wide so her kitten could have easier access, rewarding him with a bit more air when he lapped and flicked his tongue, pressuring him with a sudden, face slapping grind whenever he slowed. "Mm, g-good, kotyonok," using his hair like a black, satin bridle, she guided him up and down her valley, taking his his tongue on a trip that went from the tip of her cheeks, to the edge of her musky taint. "Now in! Tongue-fuck your zaichik!"

Tobi grunted, his face a matted mess of her sweat and his own saliva. He felt her fingers tightening within his hair, a sharp tug as she slapped his mouth against her blue bud. It was getting harder to think straight, harder to remember why he ever thought to resist at all. She had him, even if only momentarily. He was collared by the feet around her cock, and leashed by his own silken locks. Deep sunk the tongue, pressing, pushing, feeling the slick, tight entrance start to give way. He pulled back a moment to roll his wet muscle around her entrance, before pushing against a rim that instinctively tightened, no matter Anya's desires. Then, with a wet, muffled slorp, he gained entry.

Into her bottom his tongue sunk, slipping along a well-cleaned interior, tasting not just of her, but something almost fruity, with a bit of a soapy bite. It almost made him laugh. Apparently the rabbit had cleaned her hole out this morning, like she had been expecting to have visitors up her bum. Well, since his foot was already in the door, it seemed a shame not to make himself at home. There was less room to maneuver than there was in a woman's sex, but once pierced, the tight rim gave his tongue plenty of leverage to pump, and thrust. He felt her release his head, letting him get on with his tonguing, which he did with a rising interest. Below, his hips began to thrust upward, meeting her feet, as though servicing two women with parallel needs.

Tightening her arches around his suddenly animated shaft, Anya began to lean back, settling the fullness of her weight against her kitten's head. It meant he had to struggle a bit more to get his tongue working, but it freed her hands to tend to other needy bits of her anatomy. Flipping up her skirt, purse swung wide to the side, the ruby-furred rabbit reached down to wrap one hand around a pulsing blue cock, jacking her masculine beast slowly, but carefully. She could risk a pump or two, but she had plans for that knotting length of hers, plans that involved Tobi's backside.

Her other hand slipped farther down, catching the edge of her actual clit, which was a cluster of engorged nerves. She gave it a light, teasing stroke, as though fondly touching a lover, before she spread cobalt blue lips to either side. Arching two fingers, she sunk them into her feminine heat. They went in so wetly, she gasped, her legs coming together in delight, catching both her arms and her kitten's. Thick, slick thighs ground against those wanton limbs, practically pulling his hands back to her cock for another touch, groaning once more when she felt his fingers tighten around her shaft. "Mm, good girl. Good kotyonok. Good, mMmf, goood, oh perfect, nnggGg!"

Tobi found himself smiling. The wascially wabbit had underestimated him. She may have broken a few of her schoolmates, but the pimp cat was made of sterner, stiffer st-stuff, mnff! Perhaps spoken too soon, the feline admitted, feeling part of his stiffer stuff succumb to agile toes and gracefully arced, heated soles. Anya could use a few of Madam Hazel's lessons in the art of domination, but she had obviously nailed her A level courses in foot-jobs. His cock pulsed with a sudden jerk forward, pressing upward between her toes which had gravitated toward his cock's knob, teasing his cap just as it hit the point of no return.

Anya delighted as her kitten erupted, feeling the head of his cock swell within the grip of her right foot, toes tightening even as a pulse of heated ivory sputtered through them. Her own body on edge, she rhythmically squeezed with her dexterous digits, as though juicing an especially ripe bit of milky fruit. His first release had been what she had come to expect from most males, but this second, copious load had her reassessing her newest pretty. Sloppy went the release, rolling down the bottom of her foot, dribbling stickily from her heels, drenching her calves and his own crotch. The puddle in his lap grew to something worth splashing about in, and his near constant thrust wound her own arousal into a tightly bunched spring.

When his tongue slammed, hard and thick, into her bottom, it all came undone. Her fingers became as sticky as her toes, flooded with a sudden splash of feminine release. Her cock burbled out a few sticky spurts, but was largely outclassed by what came from below. It flooded under her hips, stained his pretty blouse, and tickled his throat. She flung her arms to either side to keep from falling off her kitten's face, riding a cresting wave that swelled as their puddles began to mix, filling the air with the savory flavor of spent sex.

He spent long moments under her shuddering body, his air dwindling, his face a right mess of her fluids and a few of his own. When she finally pulled up, letting his tongue free of her bottom, it gave a spasm, clenching at his tongue as though to hug it good-bye. Tobi found himself blinking in face of sudden, harsh light. His nose flared, taking in air that was stained by their coupling, yet tasted all the sweeter for it. He almost had a chance to fill his lungs before the sudden crash of an awfully affectionate Russian rabbit began to cover his face with kisses. Finally, she took his lips, forcing her tongue to dance along his own, apparently unafraid to taste what he had been servicing.

"So, good time all around?" Tobi croaked, lips tingling, his nose full of her scent. It had taken a week to smell of anything other than a horny husky, and before that, a delighted dobie. He supposed he could walk around for a few hours, reeking of rabbit. "You untie me, help a cat to his feet, no hard feelings? Maybe I offer you a job... in a couple of years?"

Anya smirked, pulling out a small, sealed, purple package from her purse, ripping it open with her teeth.

"Not done, are we?" Tobi coughed, then blinked when the expected condom failed to manifest. Instead, the sputtering feline found himself assaulted by a damp towelette smelling faintly of jasmine. He tried his best not to think of a doting mother, seeing to her son's filthy features with an old hanky covered in fresh spit. Not that the fluids they had already exchanged were any more hygienic. Soon, the rest of his face joined his lips in their tingle, signifying the cleansing solution was doing its job. Why she bothered, with his bottom sat in a cooling pool of his own cum, he could not begin to imagine.

"Just bit of fun, kotyonok," Anya cooed, tossing the spent towelette to the side, straddling her kitten's chest as she began to dig within her purse. "But your zaichik said she would help you being girl, da? Good or bad, all must be pretty." She winked, then pulled out a small compact and cosmetic brush. "You are pretty, but could be more."

"See, this is where you are confus-" Tobi was getting awfully tired of being interrupted, but given the tight grip on his cheeks, and the wild look in the rabbit's eyes, he decided to let this one slide as well.

"No talking. Talking makes for bad make-up," Anya bopped the feline's nose with her thick brush, "and no squirming. Vould hate to get anyzing in my kotyonok's eyes. Like eyeliner pencil." She illustrated her point by pulling out her pencil, and making sure the wide-eyed kitten got a good look. Satisfied that he would be obedient, she considered her canvas. Her latest pretty had naturally long eye-lashes, so no need to worry about mascara. Any longer or thicker and he might look cheap. The rabbit had no intention of letting her friends think they could have him for anything less than he was worth.

Tobi watched her arrange cosmetics on his chest, wondering if he could snatch the distracted rabbit with his bound arms, and then hit the door running. That was assuming he did not immediately fall face-first, with both boxers and skirt looped about his ankles. Hell, he would probably end up slipping in his own semen, and even if he managed, she would just tackle him before he made got very far. No point in calling for help either. This was not exactly the state he wanted to be rescued in, and assuming Doxie was one of the two young women outside, he had about as much chance as a numbered operative trying to escape an overinflated balloon.

"Shut your eyes, kotyonok," Anya smiled, having set both pencil and brush down, picking up her personal compact and dabbing a smokey red eyeshadow onto her applicator. "But not too tight. Relax. Your zaichik make you beautiful."

There are few things quite so difficult as relaxing on command. Tobi grunted, shutting both eyes and doing his best not to blink, or peek. When the spongy applicator began to dust on its color, he felt himself twitch under the unfamiliar pressure. In the past, he had applied various men-care products to himself, so he was not entirely out of his depth, but it felt heavy on his lids, carrying a scent that he had only ever known indirectly. The pimp cat was pretty fluid as it came to orientation or gender, but it was hard not to feel as though this was something else, an unexplored territory with a mad march hare for a guide.

"Mm, good. Already much more pretty." Anya stroked her captive's cheek, encouragingly. "Keep shut; liner is next."

It went on relatively smooth, but felt even heavier than the eye-shadow, almost like clay. Once or twice, there was a sensation like a scraping, which caused his eyes to water, his jaw to set. Moments later, he felt her dabbing at the corner of his eyes, drying away tears, before taking his jaw in hand, laying a soothing kiss to his lips. Something within got warmer, out-of-synch with his struggles, responding to new sensations, both internal and external. One ear twitched, his tail sliding back and forth underneath, and his fingers clenched. Damnit! Do not go all bunny right now, Tobi scolded himself.

Anya admired her work. She tended toward thicker make-ups and stylized dyes, but she had taken a slightly more subtle approach with her kitten. She found it was better when working a new pretty, better to let them see themselves as feminine, without being able to simply blame it all on the cosmetics. Eventually, once they had accepted their new roles, they would find their own styles and tastes. Swaying happily at the thought, she applied a soft dab of powdered blush to his cheeks. Just a touch. It was more for the feel of it than the look. Given the natural blush that responded to its application, the rabbit was well pleased with the results.

Gah, he could smell it all over. It was getting into his snout, and his cheeks were, not quite tingling, it was more of a shimmer. He opened crimson eyes, glaring up at the wicked woman who was causing his internals to quiver while covering his face in product, "Are we done?"

"Nyet, kotyonok," Anya replied, pulling out what looked to be another pencil.

"My eyelids should be fine," Tobi grumped, looking away with beautifully framed eyes.

"Da, but zis is for lips." Anya chuckled as her kitten's face fell, trying to shut his lips tightly in a petulant pout. She pressed fingers and thumb against the hollow of his cheeks, forcing his lips forward and apart. She would have preferred a more natural expression, but the Russian rabbit was nothing if not adaptable. Carefully, she began to outline his lips in a bold line. Where his eyes and blush were subtle, she meant to have his lips pop. She took her color cues from his hair, filling in her well-defined black line with a crimson lipstick.

Tobi had kissed so many painted lips, the taste of it was practically a kink. However, feeling that waxy, smooth substance, laying thickly on his own, had his mind reeling. To be honest, he had worn it before, as a joke, or once or twice during a bad phase of his life when he thought it might make some sort of a statement. It never did, not really. It was just another sort of costume, something worn without focused intent, an external dangle that touched nothing real. This was different, as though this wicked woman had somehow managed to defile the uniform of his own skin. Was that why his heart was beating so fast?

"Up you go, kotyonok," Anya beamed, lifting off his body, then reaching down to help him to his feet.

The sudden lack of the rabbit's warm weight felt peculiar after having taken it for a given. Tobi suddenly felt lighter than he ever had before, and with his lips tasting sharp and peculiar, his nose practically clogged with the scent of feminine accessories, it all made for a rather dizzy kitty. He took her hands nervously, trying to stand with legs that seemed to have forgotten how. By the time he wobbled into place, he was surprised to find that he was several inches taller than his captor. God, Madam Hazel would have laughed. Especially when she got a load of his appearance.

Speaking of, Tobi tried to get a look at his reflection over the rabbit's ears, but found himself suddenly spinning as Anya turned him round about by the shoulders.

"Nyet. Not yet, kotyonok. First you must dress proper." Without giving him a chance to object, the rabbit slipped down to her knees, pulling both boxers and skirt from his wobbling, yet nicely shaped legs. "Step out. Good girl." The smile on her face was warm, yet wicked. He was obeying her without thinking now. This was good, very good. Even when he tried to snatch a peek over his shoulders, he turned quickly at her glance, as though disobeying Anya was now instinctively wrong.

Separating his boxers, she used the satiny material to rub down her kitten's lower body, taking extra time to give his semi-flaccid cock an indulgent stroke. Once she was happy with the state of his nethers, she guided him back into the forest green skirt, his knickers being tossed. "No panties for my pretties." Her hands slid up the back of Tobi's legs, thumbs brushing along the curve of his calves, up and into the pit of his knees, before gliding along the plump of his upper thighs and then finally cupping his bare bottom, possessively. She felt his body tremble in response, his tail wrapping idly about her wrist, and rewarded him with a wet kiss along the back of his neck.

Tobi had never more more out of synch with himself, never more vulnerable in the grips of a woman he topped by nearly a head. When she squeezed his bottom cheeks, the response that flooded his body was not the one he expected. The desire to have was being smothered by a rising need to be had. A surprising moan left his lips when her own made contact with his neck. His body rolled with a sensual expression as the she tugged the tie from his hair, setting his silken locks free. Another shiver assaulted the feline as she pushed his long, raven-black strands about his shoulders, arranging his crimson stripe to fall over the left side of his painted face.

"Now you may look, kotyonok," Anya whispered, standing on tip toes so her rich, accented voice danced about his ear. She brushed his blouse down, straightening her kitten's skirt one final time. They were both sticky in spots, but the Russian rabbit had always felt that such stains only added to a school uniform's charm. "Now you are beautiful."

His curiosity suddenly evaporated, replaced by a rising, irrational dread. Tobi found himself suddenly afraid of his own reflection, not sure who would be waiting for him through the looking glass. But he could sense his not-so-white rabbit's growing impatience, and slowly, he began to turn. In this one instance, a jabberwock would have been preferable to an Alice.

Eyes shut, hands moving to clutch at Anya's shoulders, he nearly spoiled his lips by biting nervously into their plump bottom. When he finally fluttered his painted lids, the lovely young woman gazing back at him, with her shy, nervous expression, was nothing like the tomboyish image he had admired earlier that day. That had just been another Tobi, a pretty Tobi, but a Tobi nonetheless. This young woman was almost a stranger, yet she had all the elements of the familiar. He- she, was a looker, and no mistake. The feline gulped, setting his school tie to bounce, finding himself suddenly shy under the gaze of his own reflection.

"Old boy is now new girl, da?" Anya slid around her kitten, letting him get a better view of himself: of herself. "New girl has such pretty lips, made for kissing. Give her one. Give her first kiss."

"T-that's stupid," Tobi blushed, turning away from his own image. "This is s-stupid." Now he was stuttering like a silly bun bun. Get a hold of yourself, Tobi! Only, which self was that? Looking back at the beauty behind the glass, he found the obvious answer, no longer quite so obvious. His arms slipped up around his shoulders, and in the mirror, his feminine self did the same, her cheeks pink as she practically hugged herself. Those lips of hers, his, they really did look made for kissing.

"Not stupid. Girls always practice with mirror," Anya teased, setting a few loose strands of her kitten's hair back to rights. "Come now. Nobody here but you, me, and her. You like her, da?"

Tobi tried to laugh it off. He was a vain pimp cat, after all. What pimp, or cat, wasn't? But the flutter in his stomach, the curious tumble of warmth that tingled his flesh, was nothing like he had ever experienced before. It hardly helped that he shivered every time Anya ran her fingers through his hair, or gave his bottom a light squeeze through his skirt. By the time he realized he was walking toward himself, he was nearly there.

Anya watched her pretty drift forward, lost in her leash. Reaching down, she pulled a small, pink bottle from her purse. Giving it a quick shake, she poured some liquid into her hands, giving it time to warm, before rubbing the lube along the cap of her cock, then along the sides. He was finally ready, whether he knew it or not.

Tobi wondered if would be alright if he simply gave in. Maybe just for a day, no more than two, he could let go of his cynical shell, throw bitter caution to the wind, and fall in love with himself. After all, it was little more than a dream. The moment he "woke" up, he would be as dirty and crass as you please, and one hundred present masculine. Well, sixty-forty. So there was no sense in not enjoying this, long as it was liable to last.

Cherish yer buzz, Eli might say, cuz the hangover s'coming.

He raised his bound hands to the glass, fingers clutched as though they might reach through. Then Tobi pressed his lips to his ethereal, feminine self. The returned kiss was cool, but the lipstick gave his mouth a tactile response, pushing something silly beyond the veil, turning it into fantasy. His upper body pressed against the mirror, and one kiss became two, then three. His breath began to fog up the slick surface, adding humid warmth to his phantom lover.

He hardly noticed the more substantial warmth that moved in from behind, lifting the back-end of his skirt, exposing a ripe, well-rounded rear. When Anya spread his cheeks, he had only enough time to wonder at the sudden heat, before crying out in a surprised gasp as she pierced his pink pucker with a cobalt blue spear. Nails scratched into the mirror, digging as he turned back to his reflection, surprised to find fresh tears gathering along the edges of hi- her eyes.

It was certainly not the first time anyone had ever shoved a dick up his bottom, with nary a please. Nor was it the biggest, though certainly substantial by any reckoning. But that was Tobi, who was well-versed in the giving and receiving of hard, hungry cocks. For the woman on the other side of the mirror, it was her very first, and it could have been kinder, certainly more gentle. His bottom quivered along the intruder, trying to push back at the blue beast within, his rim tightly sealed around its edges. "N-not yet, not ready." S- he whimpered, "Please, go slower."

Anya leaned forward, hands catching her kitten by the shoulder, lips catching her pretty by the ear and nipping as she replied. "Nyet, kotyonok. First time should be hard," she illustrated by pulling her hips back, then slamming forward with a greedy thrust, sinking hot inches into her kitten's backside. "Later, do soft, so you appreciate it more. Do not vorry so. Anya take," back and then in, sinking into his reshaped tunnel as far as she could go, "good," another slap as her pelvis met his bottom, leaving only an inch or so of her root unburied, "care of you." A wet thunk signified the seal, his bottom cheeks puddled about her front as her cock surged within.

Suddenly, Tobi knew what Madonna and Tarantino had been going on about. The wet tremble that worked its way through his body was an unusual sensation, something that prompted his knees to weaken, his heart to melt. He gulped, then found himself slapped against the mirror, propelled by Anya's insistent thrust. He could push back, of course, give as good as he got, work dem hips like a champ, as he had done in the past. But that meant leaving the woman in the mirror to fend for herself, and in his daze, he could not bring himself to abandon her. Instead, he embraced the other self, held her within, soothing her with more kisses, letting her moans spill from his lips. They would get through this, he promised her, together.

Anya clutched the trembling body of her latest conquest. "Nearly zere, kotyonok," she gasped, feeling that familiar swell, pressing her swollen hilt forward, sinking a freshly plumped knot inside of her kitten. All around the engorged bulge, his body quivered, internals starting to spasm, stretched farther than he likely thought possible. "Almost, almost," pumping was harder, every movement practically yanked her lover backward, sending raw pleasure through-out her system. What had been a fuck became a rut, and before she could turn an "almost" into a "now," her engorged, knotted shaft surged forward in a searing release.

Tobi cried out when her cock nearly doubled in size, clutching his imagined self to his chest. When the knot of flesh pressed against his prostrate, that gathering flutter cracked, spilling a wet quiver that resounded through both his feminine and his masculine selves. His cock, newly aroused and peeking from underneath his skirt, slapped against the mirror, spilling a fresh load along its silver surface, the rest spattering about his feet. But it was the sudden rush of Anya's molten cream that swept the feline away. He felt himself pulled back by her second pump, then crashing with her third, a cacophonous orgasm overtaking the gasping feline. He might have fallen, had she not pressed her body against his own, pinning him to the looking glass, and his tear-stained, cum-filled self.

Backed up seed began to spill where it was not entirely sealed by Anya's knot, dribbling in a sticky sin between battered butt cheeks, tumbling along Tobi's thighs. Pressed together, the pair tried their best to catch their breaths, hearts slowing to a duller throb. After-quakes of delight sent fresh semen into his body, or puddled it about their toes, but neither seemed particularly inclined to disengage. Besides, with the rabbit knotted, there was little else to do. She kept herself busy, slipping her hands under her kitten's blouse, scritching along his chest, giving his nipples playful tweaks. Her kitten was busy reminding himself that it was just a reflection, just a bit of make-up, and while fun was fun, he had a business to avoid running.

"Bloody hell. Never do anything halfway, do you luv?" Shila wedged her short, slim body against the door-frame, one leg leaned casually against the opposite side. "You realize I'm the one who has to clean all this madness, right?"

"Does it matter," Doxie shrugged, standing on the other side of her friend, peeking into the fitting room with pink cheeks, and an awfully tented skirt. "You'll just have the owner see to it: on hands and knees, no doubt." She always felt a bit more sure of herself when her ridiculously fat cock was in full bloom, practically grinding it against her blonde friend. "C-can we have a look at her."

Anya grinned, setting smug eyes on her friends. "Look, kotyonok. You have admirers." Carefully, still semi-hard, the Russian rabbit pulled her blue shaft free, sending a fresh splash of leaked bunny cream to slip from his pink, stretched bottom. She settled his skirt back down, never minding the dark stain that seeped through, and then turned her latest playmate to face them. "Come now, show how pretty you are."

There was no point in resisting her, much less hiding, so Tobi turned, eyes low, upper and lower cheeks burning. When his downward gaze caught sight of the thick flesh eager to make his acquaintance, he blinked. Struggling against the vixen's skirt and the cheetah's jogging pants were two of the largest cocks the feline had ever seen. Well, relative to their heights. Neither were Purgatory big, but then again, neither were over seven feet tall. There was a dirty spot, just between porn-star and hyper, and both girls fit quite snugly within.

"Sh-she's beautiful," Doxie squealed, clapping her hands together, feeling rather girlish in her excitement. Her shaft managed to lurch forward an inch or two, dripping a freshly formed pearl onto her friend's pants leg. "Can we keep her?"

"Catch and release, like always. But I shouldn't worry, you know they always end up back here." Shila might have complained about Doxie's mess, were she not making one of her own. A tremendous bulge threatened to rip its way out of her, suddenly not-so-baggy, pants. "I think I'm going to enjoy smearing that lipstick."

"Afraid is already smeared," Anya smiled, reaching up, and affectionately brushing a bit of waxy crimson from his cheek. It was tempting to keep this one on a permanent basis, but the girls already had a steady pet in their friend HB. Besides, Shila was right. Sooner or later, she knew her kitten would return. Of course, before he could return, he had to be let go, and before he could be let go, she intended to get an awful lot of use out of him. "But she can smear more on friend's big, fat cocks. Zat is, once you have paid Anya."

"You're charging us?" Shila choked, "You mean little cun- " The cheetah stopped, taking a deep breath as she eyed Tobi. Their friend had done a pretty bang up job, and the young woman's arousal began to shift from want to a burning need. Finally, she shrugged, fumbling about her pants. "Fine, but I gave you the key, and Doxie gave up her stocking, so we expect a discount."

"Of course, and friend discount too."

"Wait, just a moment. Are you honestly trying to pimp... me?" Tobi's starred at the mad rabbit, though glancing nervously at the two young women who were busy counting out their pocket money, their over-sized shafts pulsing in anticipation.

Anya chuckled, leaning in, "Do not vorry so much. They are big, but they only do lips until you are ready. And vill buy new dresses vith your cut." She cast a curious glance toward the clothes he had left hanging on either side. "Your zaichik has been meaning to ask," she said, gesturing toward his pristine pimp duds, "is costume?"

Tobi reached up with his bound hands, pinching the bridge of his snout. "Not exactly." They were going to let him go, eventually. It might be after a couple of days of hard use, but that seemed to be a given. He hoped they did so before Madam Hazel noticed he was gone, and went looking. He never could disappear for very long, though he dreaded the inevitable explosion if she stumbled across this snip of a girl making a hobby out of the succubus' profession.

Whatever the case, it seemed he was to be Anya's kotyonok for a little while longer. Sometimes you wear the uniform, and sometimes it wears you.

The End!