Getting Dolled Up

Bridget stripped off her vest and tiny shorts, pleasantly surprised they weren't too soiled. She tossed them into her overflowing hamper along with the fishnets, now crusty with dried semen. It took her a while to get all of the smudges off of her pale legs, but she found that it was just more convenient to wear the shorts at the beginning and end of the work week as the guys usually used her a couple times to make up for her day off. She tested the water with her toes, put a foot on the edge of the tub, and snapped open a long leather case sitting on the sink. From it, she pulled a 8" long Lester-Holt aluminum vaginal exerciser and a rubber three inch long anal insert to tighten her ass back up.

She eased into the water after casually inserting them, letting her sore legs relax as she tightened first her pussy and then her ass sequentially. The vaginal exerciser was a must-have item for any woman, though she couldn't afford a luxury one with ivory handles like some of the more well-off housewives in Northspire. It consisted of two semi-curved aluminum bars connected by a spring; similar to a grip exerciser. She liked to use it in the bath as the spring squeaked annoyingly unless it was underwater. The anal insert was a cheap homemade job she'd made out of some innertubing partially filled with ball bearings and sealed that was simply inserted partially and squeezed to strengthen her sphincter muscles.

As she did her exercises, she undid her bandana to let her wavy red hair cascade down her shoulders. It wasn't as long as most Dames wear it, but it wasn't the slightly mannish looking close cut that many Grease Girls favored. She squeezed out the last dollop of shampoo from the bottle onto her hand and started lathering it into her tresses. She couldn't help but get slightly aroused as she squeezed and relaxed her intimate entrances while cleansing herself of dirt, grime, and cum.

"That thing is gonna feel so good..."she thought, thinking back to her design. She smiled, imagining what it was going to feel like to fuck-start a woman. Her smile faded a bit as she realized she had no idea how to go about that. Was she just going to walk up to pretty Dame, turn her around, and go for it? The idea turned her on immensely, but she wasn't exactly the type to do that; at least she didn't think she was. Maybe she could just keep it with her until the situation arose, but that wasn't likely in her part of town.

She let out a long sigh, drawing the inserts out of her body and setting them on the edge of the tub. If she was being realistic about it, the easiest way would be to find a couple, or have one of the guys pick up a girl for her. She stood, grabbed her towel, and dried off as she went to her clothes box. Bridget slid the bottom drawer open and pulled out an emerald strapless evening gown that flared and stopped mid thigh and was worn with a wide black belt. Her mother had given it to her as a gift before she left her home country. Next, she pulled out a pair of black sheer pantyhose and cute, emerald green high heels.

She carefully walked over to the smoky, cracked mirror and brushed her freshly shampooed hair until it cascaded down her long neck in lovely waves of red. She opened a tin box next to the hand soap, and pulled out her only tube of lipstick, a bright cherry red. She worked it into her lips as she dusted her cheeks with a paintbrush she used for these rare occasions before applying her mascara. "Christ, I look like a Dame..."she thought. She stepped back, twirling the dress from side to side as she took in the total package, almost losing her footing.

She sighed, and sat down on the edge of her dirty mattress. The stack of ration cards Johnny had given her sat on her nightstand. She looked over at them, realizing she could dress this way every day for months and not have to worry about running out of makeup, or shampoo for that matter. She thumbed through them, deciding if she was going to try and pick someone up at a bar, or someplace safer like the supermarket.

A bar was riskier. She'd have to sit at the bar and sit on the edge of her seat with her ass hanging over so guys could use her as they flirted with her. She thought back to the last time she went out, about a month ago. She ended up being fucked on the pool table by a group of Marines on leave almost as soon as she got there, and had to limp home early. She smiled at the memory of their manly, muscled bodies; but that wasn't what she was going for tonight. Tonight, she simply wanted to "get her feet wet" with a girl or woman before her harness was ready.

She walked out to her bike and straddled it. As she pulled out onto the cracked, wet pavement and sped through traffic, she certainly turned quite a few heads. Not often one sees a gorgeous redhead all dolled up riding a Stura Intimidator through Diesel City, her pussy wet and pressed against her humming leather seat. She stopped at the intersection, mulling over her options. She could hit the bar or go the store or someplace else.

A dangerous thought creeped into her mind. "Or I could go visit Johnny at the club. He's always good at scoring pretty Dames..."