Dress up

Vanessa would have gladly worn any of her own clothes, done in any style. Gladly, and gratefully.

She wasn't wearing her own clothes.

She was squeezed into...

She looked at herself in the mirror. She was properly cleaned, thoroughly scrubbed down with soap. Her hair was natural and curly. Makeup concealed her flaws, including the worst of her black eye and her damaged lip, both of which were barely swollen anymore. Her face was pretty again. But, inside, she felt so... so just... just disgusting. Even more disgusting and filthy than she had crawling, wagging a tail that was planted in her rectum. Disgusting in a way that sort of defilement, as scarring and demeaning as it was, couldn't touch.

This was even deeper.

It was the feeling of forcing herself into her own daughter's tiny little cheerleading outfit, for the enjoyment of -

Whap!

The bathroom tiles, that made any singing voice a little better, echoed painfully with Vanessa's full- slap to her own face. She glared at her image in the mirror. She breathed, trying to calm her nerves.

She was into it for the enjoyment of the men... of her... her tormentors. The evil bastards. For their enjoyment.

She smoothed her chest, trying to distance herself from the history of her outfit, what it had been. It was just fabric. Any man might want her in... it was cute. Of course it was cute. It was a cheerleading uniform. Vanessa was familiar with them. This one consisted of a stretchy crop top and short skirt, showing off her bare midriff and legs. Its bleach-white tone contrasted sharply with her skin, and its green trim completed the school colors, and... and...

And it was more than just an outfit. It was trying to squeeze the life out of her. It was strangling her soul. She felt... had Elly felt like this when...? No. Not like this. But memories... She was being into the tiny uniform, and Vanessa had her daughter into it at one time, and...

Elly had hated it. Not just the outfit, but cheerleading. She hadn't fit in with the other girls at all, their cliquey ways their... probably their everything. When she had quit after a single semester, though, Vanessa had berated her up and down. Called her a quitter, when in fact she was standing up for herself. When she was being herself.

Vanessa had only realized that months later. Had realized that she was in the wrong. So in the wrong, and so ashamed, and proud at the same time. One night after work when she and Elly sat down to an evening meal and... all of the sudden, she had looked at her daughter, and it hit her like a bolt of lightning. She had bought Elaine a car that same weekend, even though Elly was still months away from getting her license, and even though Vanessa said she wouldn't. She had formally apologized to her daughter, one of the only times in their lives together. She had called Elly, Elaine, a woman.

The outfit, though, even after that, Vanessa hadn't let go of it. She had put it aside, back in Elly's closet, out of sight... but she hadn't removed it during cleanings or giveaways. She... some part of her hadn't let go of that little dream, of her daughter being... being more like her. Being like her mother - Vanessa, high school cheerleader with her high school cheerleading friends.

Thank god she wasn't like her mother. Elly was better than her. She always had been. Vanessa knew that more deeply than ever. She should have burned the skimpy, cutesy... and now that she saw it on herself - god it was slutty and patriarchal and demeaning...

But she hadn't burned it, or given it away, or tossed it. And now it was back, haunting her. Now she twirled in it, saw her smooth thighs in the sexy little skirt in the mirror, and hated it even more than Elly must have.

She twirled back the other way, muscle memory well over twenty years past moving her legs, and -

Jumped. Not out of an ancient routine, but out of surprise. Tall in the doorway two faces stood witness to Vanessa's flaunt. A grinning male face under off-blonde hair and one under sandy brown hair that looked, if it had a readable expression, slightly embarrassed for her. Vanessa dropped her head and grabbed the hem of her skirt, pulling it low.

Brand shook his head. He flicked one index finger up, and again.

The message was clear. Wrong way.

Vanessa's lips tightened. She slowly, bare stomach tight, played with the hem of her skirt a little... and then stopped pulling down, and started lifting up.

Her wide hips, the start of her brown butt, and lastly the hot, hairy triangle between her thighs were slowly revealed. Pure white panties - sheer, lacy, clearly sexy, and... god they were Elly's, too, poked out from under her skirt. Vanessa couldn't help but steal a little glance in the mirror. A three quarter profile of a mature black woman, lifting her daughter's undersized cheerleading skirt, revealing some of her daughter's sexiest panties for...

Brand's frame entered the mirror. Vanessa saw his hand brush low, stroke the panties, and... and then reach inside, stretch them outwards while the back of his hand t-touched her underneath. The back of his hand... his fingernails and hard knuckles pressed against her vulva, and his hand grasped, gently pinched the lacy fabric, pulling and...

Her eyes flicking to the mirror, Vanessa saw her expression change, her forehead wrinkle in effort, her mouth twist to prevent herself from loosing a little squeak of arousal when the pinched fabric was pulled up between her hairy lips. He pulled.... and spread, resting the lacy undergarments inside to obscenely divide Vanessa's juicy cleft.

"Look at 'er fat, furry twat poke out of her little girl's panties. Not only her big, black ass and tubby belly, but her coochie is too chubby for them clothes, ain't it?" Carter chuckled.

The black businesswoman dropped her eyes and glared at her feet. She stupidly felt herself suck in her tight stomach. Even though her dimensions amounted to a classically attractive build; in the too-small clothes Carter's observation hit Vanessa's overly developed vanity - she felt like a swollen, stuffed sausage even without any extra attacks on her appearance.

"Bring that sweet, young cheerleader pussy over here, girl," Carter leered. Vanessa, looking up, could practically see his eyes light up pervertedly over her fantasy outfit - shifting from degrading her fitness for the uniform to fantasizing about some... uggh... some kind of high school girl in seconds.

He patted his thigh, "Come on, now. Your daddy," Vanessa looked up at Brand, "Won't mind a bit. He knows what colored girls are made for."

Brand looked into Vanessa's eyes and nodded in his friend's direction. "Go on 'Nessa. Uncle Carter wants to see you all dressed up like a good cheer girl." He kissed her face lips lightly, and ran his fingertips along the hairy, well-parted lips of her sex. "Keep your skirt up while you walk. Present yourself nicely."

Vanessa shuffled her her feet forward, keeping them flat, moving across the short distance slowly. Every shift of her hips tugged on Elly's panties, flossing them gently up and down.

Too soon, her skirt lifted up, she was in front of... and she felt Carter's rough hand touch her, and -

"O-ow!" Vanessa exclaimed sharply. Carter pulled on the tender, hanging bits down below.

"Yeah..." Carter drooled. "That's a fat little cheerleader pussy, ain't it?"

Carter pulled again, "Ain't it?"

"A-" Vanessa winced, "Yes, Uncle Carter. You're pulling on my f-" Fucking pig! "Fat pussy. Please... please stop pulling..." she groaned.

Carter ignored her, going to work with both hands, pulling and spreading each side of her lips, parted down the middle by Elly's sexy white panties. Vanessa's chocolate thighs began to quiver as she stood, and took it.

The finally ended. Carter stepped back, and assessed Vanessa thoughtfully, his eyes moving up.

"We gave you a bra. Too much clothing for you, huh cheer slut? You like bein' all free in front of your teachers and tha' boys?"

Vanessa shook her head and felt her natural hair flop back and forth. She... as much as she would have liked support and protection for her breasts, the bra she had been given had been much too small for her jugs, but even that aside there wasn't one extra bit of room inside the tight top for any extra fabric. Her tits were squished down, spread out practically to the bottom of the crop top, and that was the only way they fit.

"You like bein' a tease...?" He started groping her roughly and painfully. Almost angrily. "Showin' them off? You like wavin' them around when you bounce? Showin' everybody?" His hands became even harsher as he went on, his eyes almost boiling at his own made up fake fantasy, "Your daddy and your teachers and your uncle and -"

"It didn't fit!" Vanessa almost snapped, but caught herself and turned it into a mutter. Still, she needed to... she dropped her eyes and made her voice small, trying again, suppressing her own all too real anger, born of real pain. "It didn't fit, Sir. I wasn't trying to tease... tease my favorite uncle." Vanessa almost choked on her words, but glanced behind, looking at Brand. He was half-ignoring her, typing on... her phone? Why was... but anyway he was paying attention, he always was. That's who he was, and she couldn't forget... "O-or tease my dadd-ow-ouch!"

Carter patted her front, as if inspecting, moving his hands to pull, pull her breasts downwards under her mini top. Vanessa didn't, couldn't cover her chest, she... like when he pulled on the lips of her genitalia she didn't, couldn't protect herself... or could only protect herself by silently groaning, and taking it. She clenched her fists and wiggled her toes, shifting her hips... her thighs... her-her thighs... God! Even this discomfort was making her... down below she felt it, her thing, her damp place clamp around her daughter's panty gusset, trying to suck it in even as her toes curled and her nails dug into her palms. God, she was such a... god damn her!

Vanessa came back when Carter touched the bottom of her breasts without any fabric impeding him, down below where they hung. He had petted and mashed them down right under the bottom of her top, until the bottom of the brown orbs poked out of her top. The start of the bandages, and the edge of her dark areolas were revealed. Her slutty outfit, the slut outfit that Vanessa had tried to on her daughter, just became far more revealing.

Carter didn't look satisfied. His eyes had already dropped back down, between Vanessa's legs.

He dug his fingers under her waistband, and it became even tighter, squeezing her waist more as he rolled it up from the top. Once over, and twice, and hiked up higher. The short skirt, naturally made shorter by the curve of Vanessa's ample rear, became barely a napkin over her privates. Even standing straight, Vanessa could feel cool air gently brushing her lips. She could only imagine what she would look like if she -

"Bend over," Carter instructed.

That.

Vanessa's knees sunk first to center her weight, and then her waist bent next. She felt... the skirt... It climbed higher and higher, all the way up her buttocks. "What's it look like from back there?"

"Hmm..." Vanessa heard Brand exit and pocket her phone. "Her daughter's panties stay in place pretty well, even bent over. She'll have to adjust them every so often to keep them wedged in her pussy crack."

Brand petted her furry clam, running his middle finger hard up her panty-covered slit. He pulled aside her panties, from behind, and stroked her crack, and her twitchy little sphincter. It was clear that her skirt wasn't... "Her skirt is a much better length now. She's all hanging out back here. It's a nice look for you, Nessie."

There was a pause. Brand's finger circled her...

"Th-thank you, Daddy." Vanessa whispered. And squeezed, and twitched.

"You'll have to keep wedging Elly's panties into your hole," He instructed her calmly. Vanessa shuddered at Brand using her daughter's name. Carter seemed to have not known it. Brand... Brand did. Vanessa didn't dare meet Carter's eyes.

"... Yes, Daddy." Vanessa managed to out.

"Uncle Carter sure got you fixed up nice for your high school friend, didn't he?"

More fantasy. More sick jokes at the forty-one year old mother's expense.

"Thank him," Brand said to Vanessa's asshole while he stroked it under her panties, "Give him a quick kiss, and then we will have to get you making preparations."

Preparations?

Carter grabbed her hair and Vanessa had to pause her worries when she became momentarily occupied with her 'thank you' kiss, licking and sucking on the crotch of the crude, younger white man's pants.