Get it over with

Using a knife she carefully slices open the packing tape. Pulling the flaps apart reveals five black packages inside and four shoe boxes. Each bag is marked with a number except for one that says "MINE." Written on the inside of the box is a reminder: "Select one outfit each day and the corresponding numbered shoes. Don't forget to lock your clothes away. Save the package marked 'MINE' for when you're about to see me."

"Might as well as do this now," she says to herself and pulls out a random package. The package is marked one, so she also grabs the corresponding shoe box. "I can't believe he bought me shoes, too! So generous."

Stacy eagerly tears the package open and takes out the outfit. Her eyes widen as she looks at what he chose for her to wear. The skirt is a short black and pink plaid with lacy black ruffles on the fringe. The top is essentially a matching strapless bustier. She digs around in the bottom of the package and pulls out over-the-knee pink and black striped stockings and a simple black thong. Stacy furrows her brow looking at the items. This was the sort of outfit a punky emo girl in her school might wear to the mall. It wasn't an outfit Stacy would ever be caught dead in. She sighs, but she had to do what Dylan asks.

Stacy puts the outfit aside and grabs the matching shoe box. Other than the numbers on the outside it's plain and unmarked. When she opens it she gazes at a pair of pink lace-up Dr. Martens.

"The best female is prepared to switch roles and outfits at the whim of her man," Dylan had once said to her. "One day I might need you to be an elegant debutante, another day an anime waifu, or another day a street-walking bimbo." Clearly, today, he wanted her to be punk.

"Okay," Stacy says and begins to strip out of her current outfit to replace it with the selected outfit, "here goes."

Meanwhile, Meredith is outside pumping fuel into the RV and starting to get annoyed. "What's taking her so long?" she says as the nozzle clicks off signaling the tank is full. She was feeling annoyed that Stacy wasn't fulfilling her part of the deal to go get chargers in the shop. She puts the nozzle away, grabs the receipt and climbs back into the RV.

Meredith parts the curtain separating the cab of the RV from the rear just as Stacy finishes tightening the plaid bustier around her apple-sized breasts.

Meredith and Stacy mutually blush as their eyes connect. Meredith because her former friend is standing in front of her dressed in a bizarrely sexy outfit. Stacy because Meredith just caught her putting the finishing touches on the outfit. Both girls felt like they caught the other doing something wrong. Stacy hadn't even begun to consider that she'd need to explain all of this nonsense with Dylan's rules to Meredith.

"Oh, Dith, I, um..." Stacy trips over her words trying to figure out how to explain the outfit.

It takes a moment before Meredith stops gazing up and down Stacy's body. The skirt is short. Meredith is certain that if Stacy bends over people will see at least the bottom of her butt cheeks and likely her underwear. The stockings come up over her knee covering her legs leaving only about an inch of flesh between the top of the stockings and the skirt hem. The bustier squeezes Stacy's breasts together making them somehow look larger than their actual size. It leaves her stomach completely exposed.

Meredith is confused by what she's feeling as she takes in Stacy's surprising look. That confused feeling makes the one recognizable feeling, anger, more pronounced. "You had one job, Stacy! We need chargers but you're back here doing...I don't even understand?! Dressing up like a cheerleader going to a costume party as a slutty emo girl? What the hell?"

She wasn't wrong. Stacy was a cheerleader and the outfit does look like it would have fit the slutty fill-in-the-blank motif. Stacy feels bad about Meredith being angry. How can she explain why she'd wear something like this. "Do I really look like a slutty punk rocker? There's only one small mirror in the bathroom so I can't see myself. Is my skirt too short?"

The request for fashion tips makes Meredith fume even more. Yes, the skirt is too short, she thinks, but she isn't going to tell Stacy that. "The length is fine, Stacy, but what are you even doing? We need to keep moving, so we can make it to the first RV park my Dad plotted for us."

Stacy was relieved. She was sure the skirt was too short in the back, but why would Meredith lie. "It-it's hard to explain Meredith. M-maybe I should go get the chargers and explain while we're driving." Stacy felt shy and sheepish in front of Meredith. It was a feeling she wasn't used to after three years of being mean to her former friend. "I'm sorry, so sorry."

"And people like you bullied me and called me weird for years while all of this time...argh....yes, go, be a truck stop whore!" She turns and heads back to the front of the RV not wanting to look at Stacy anymore. Those hurt feelings from the way Stacy treated her through all of high school start to resurface. She didn't understand this person in her RV.

Stacy releases a sigh of frustration. She has a sharp come back but bites her tongue. She has to get Meredith to understand or else it might jeopardize her chance to see Dylan face-to-face for the first time. "Kill her with kindness," Stacy whispers to herself.

The girl finishes packing her bag with all of the clothes she was previously wearing. She slips the lock she found in the bottom of the box through the eyelet of the pull. Sucking in the air she clicks it. "Oh my god," she says stunned that she actually locked her clothes in the bag. This is it. She is now completely beholden to whatever Dylan has in the box. She bites her lip as goosebumps pepper her skin. Her thighs clench and feels the sticky, slickness of her arousal on hyperdrive.

Stacy takes the bag to the back of the RV, puts it in the storage compartment, and closes it. She looks across the rows of pumps to the truck stop. Time to get the charger.

Meredith was sitting in the front seat trying to understand her response. Why was Stacy making her so angry? She gazes out the driver side window. Due to being in an RV they had to get fuel on the trucker side of the stop. She was used to road trips with her family in the car, so she'd never seen this side of the world before. It was much less family vacation friendly. Lots of burly men pumping gas, fixing up their trucks, or shooting the shit while the kill time between driving shifts.

She hears the storage box on the back of the RV slam. A moment later she watches Stacy start making her walk toward the truck stop. "That skirt is so short," she says to the window as if she's warning Stacy. She watches as a trucker standing next to his truck at a pump turns his head and watches Stacy pass. He cocks his head and tips up his hat. She can't hear but she images him making catcalls or whistling. "Ugh, I don't know what's going on with her but maybe I should go in with her. Or maybe this is what she wants? She always did like attention."