Getting to work

On its own, the room felt bigger than Thia’s old place, not even counting the attached private washroom or walk-in closet. Speaking of, the place was already loaded with all her clothes from home. All her clothes amounted to only a quarter of the closet, but still. If anything, having fewer options made the upcoming decision a little easier.

She started with socks, her cross necklace, a hair tie, all the things that didn’t count to her total. Wearing just socks while otherwise completely naked felt awkward so she quickly started going through her options. If only she had a one-piece dress, then everything would be much easier, but she’d outgrown her old one ages ago. She had to choose to forgo a piece of clothing.

Bottoms were an obvious non-starter. Walking around in just panties was asking for trouble, so she set aside a pair of yoga pants. As for panties… they’d be the easiest to stay covert, sure, but going commando was way too much right now, especially with her freshly depiliated pussy. Wherever Val was, Thia knew she’d be embarrassed as heck. She dressed her bottom half while still considering her options.

Going braless, like Dani suggested, would be passable at a glance. Hell, it’s not like she hadn’t done it before. But at the same time, no matter the shirt, she was large enough for it to be obvious. Every step she took was a jiggle. But it’s not like going around in just a bra was any better, if anything it’d just draw more attention to her chest.

Except… she pulled out an old sports bra. It was a little small now, but it seemed like the best option. The perfect mix of socially acceptable to wear in public and not obviously sexual. Thia squeezed it over her chest and drew a deep breath. “Yeah, that’s tight…” She paused, “but I can work with this…”

“God dammit.” Val grumbled on her way to work. A few things had gone wrong that morning to put her into a shitty mood. As it turned out, being constantly buzzed did not make her immune to hangovers. Upon waking up with a pounding headache, she attempted to get dressed just to tear apart her favorite pair of panties, having forgotten the whole ‘cursed board game’ situation the night prior.

After it came back to her, she remembered she did in fact have a job now, and she was two hours late for said job. And to confirm her suspicions, she attempted to put on pants and found herself unable. She was stuck going commando in a skirt for the foreseeable future. To wrap the bow on the shitty morning, she stepped outside to find her car missing, having left it at the Crompton’s.

Walking around commando at night was one thing, but doing it in broad daylight while walking along busy, windy roads was even worse. She kept one hand on her skirt while waddling into town, following the directions to the pinned location called ‘work.’

After thirty-nine minutes, she finally made it to where her phone seemed to think was the tattoo shop, though from the outside it looked thoroughly abandoned. The traffic seemed to be non-existent around the block. In fact, the roads seemed designed to peel away from it entirely. Peeking through the window, a light was on inside, which gave her the confidence to open the door.

“Ey up, miss. What’ll it be?” A besparkled man greeted with a cheerful grin. Half his face seemed to be pierced or modded to some degree, topped off by a neon green mohawk.

“Uh… hey. I think…” She glanced at her map one more time. “I think I work here?”

His smile fell away as he tilted his head. “Do ye? Cuz, one woulda assumed an employee woulda have been here a couple hours ago.”

Val glanced aside. “Right, um… traffic…”

“Ye see much traffic ‘ere, miss?”

“Back, uh… my commute…”

He scratched his chin as he took a few steps closer. “Y’see, I do think I remember hiring a young miss like yerself. But I remember she assured me she was a responsible young miss, which is quite unlike yerself.”

“Um… mister, I just…”

“Ye enjoy the pub last night, is that it?”

“Kinda?”

“I can tell. Ye smell like a distillery, and look half the part too.” He shook his head.

Val bit her lip. “Listen, I… I really want this job. This won’t happen again, I promise.”

He pursed his lips, leaning in an inch from her face. “Alright. I believe ye.” A pause. “But these have got to go.” Before she could react, he grabbed her nose ring and ripped it off.

“Aah! What the fuck!”

“Thought so.” He thumbed it between his fingers. “Ye think ye can walk in here with clip-on piercings like a poser?”

“I’m not a poser.”

He yanked an earring next. “Y’sure? Ye ain’t even got the balls to get a real piercing but ye think yer hot shit?”

“Needles just… freak me out, okay? But… you can’t fire me for not having piercings?”

“No. But I can for showing up late and drunk on yer first shift.”

“Okay… that one’s only half my fault.”

“Fine.” He plucked off the last earring. “But no more of this shite, am I clear? It’s a mockery of the craft.”

“Right… okay.” She nodded. “So… um, how do I give a tattoo?”

He scoffed. “The place is called Madcap Michael’s. People come for Madcap Mike, not some poser American girl. Ye can start by spinning this sign outside. Get some traffic going.”

“I… s-sorry?”

“Ye heard me. If ye get this place busy enough, maybe I’ll let ye assist.” Mike dumped her clip-ons into the trash. “That’s a big maybe.”

Dani spent the afternoon scrolling back through her post history. She still had her own account, but she was also logged into a new ‘Daily Dani’ page. That was the one that game decided to make famous. And every single post was clown themed. The photos dated back years, long before the game started, but they all had the hair and makeup… and flat chest. But on her old account, she looked normal, big tits and all.

She decided to make a phone call. “Todd. It’s me.”

“D-Dani? Oh shit. Hey. Uh… hey, babe? What’s up?”

“Todd, what color is my hair?”

“Uh…” He audibly scratched his head as he thought about it. “Is this a trick question?”

“No, dumbass.”

“Hey, don’t be mean, babe. What’s got you upset? I can make you feel better. A lot better…”

“Todd, if you don’t answer the fucking question, I will go and fuck Jimmy again. In fact, I’ll let him fuck my ass. Raw. Understood?”

“Jimmy!? That traitor! I fucking knew he fucked you behind my back!” He paused, maybe finally grasping the threat. “You’re, uh… you’ve got that blue and red thing going on. Did I win?”

“Okay. Okay, and how long has my hair been like this? When we fucked, what color was it?”

“Oh, oh, I know this one! Blonde!” He giggled. “And your tits were bigger back then too. I loved that shit. You should get them back sometime.”

Dani had to physically bite her tongue to stop herself from saying what she wanted to say in response. “Okay! Thank you! For your! Input!” She strained. “One last question. This post,” she hit send, “was posted on the day we fucked. But I have my current hair, right? So… was I blonde on that day or not?”

“Uh… hm… You were blonde… and had that hair. Is that the right answer? Do I get to fuck your ass now? Was that the prize? Can you put your big tits back on for-”

“If you ever touched my ass, I wouldn’t feel it because your dick’s too fucking small.” She huffed, almost ending it before adding, “and you won’t get that football scholarship either all thanks to your microcock.”

“Dan-” she hung up and tossed her phone aside. It started to flood with notifications from Todd which she wasn’t interested in. Her eyes drifted over to the mirror. She could barely recognize herself. Whatever this game was, no matter how unlucky it made her, she was still going to beat it. Because she was a fucking winner.

She got dressed and ready to go.

Jules had been chilling in her room most of the day. The idea of getting dressed was unpleasant to even consider, and she didn’t really feel like exposing herself in front of the stranger who apparently lives with her now. She’d sat at her easel for a few hours, staring at the canvas in front of her. The outline, done with her pencil, was completed a week ago. The rest was empty.

She’d had the paint prepared, everything she’d need for a self-portrait. But she couldn’t bring herself to put a single drop on the canvas. Not since the eyes. It felt like she’d been in a staring contest with herself for a week, and was losing bad. Who was she even painting, after all? When she saw the outline, Syd grinned.

“You didn’t say you were painting me!”

It had stayed empty since.

After who knows how long, there was a knock at the door. “Jules! Come on, Val and Dani are here. We gotta play.”

She sighed.