Preparing to Party

Tiffany jumps in the shower and quickly rinses away the sweat from packing up her entire life for moving to an unknown new location, along with the fear-stink she's accumulated between the Bursar's office and the phone call with her dad. She washes her curly, ginger locks and then borrows a razor and soaps and shaves her underarms and legs.

Ablutions finished, she wraps one towel around her head and another around her torso before examining Nicole's birthday gift. The dress has grown no longer or looser in the past twenty minutes, and Tiffany can see now that there's more than just the minidress in the bundle of cloth, though not all that much more, counting by weight and volume.

Wrapped in the dress is a set of lingerie, one that looks like it weighs six ounces, tops. The first item is a lace g-string, apparently purchased to avoid showing panty lines through the skintight little black dress; its front panel provides 'coverage', if it can be called that, of about three square inches. The bra is strapless, for obvious reasons, but also cupless, presumably to make it invisible as well. Tiffany wonders why the maker bothers to call it a brassiere at all. Finally, there is a pair of sheer, thigh-high stockings, about half an ounce of transparent black silk each, embroidered with the shapes of ivy vines running up the outside of each leg, lace that matches both panties and bra circling each stocking top.

Tiffany sighs, knowing she's going to have to wear the full getup or risk upsetting her best friend and only current ally. She steps into the g-string and pulls it up her legs, and sighs again. Over her pubes, it looks like a black hourglass on the back of a red widow spider. With a curse, she reaches again for the razor.

Fifteen minutes later, having shaved, dressed, put on some light makeup and blown her hair dry, Tiffany examines herself in the mirror. What she sees actually makes her cringe. The skirt is no longer than she'd imagined it might be, falling to only a few inches below her crotch. The bra and panties leave no lines, making her imagine that OTHERS might think she's going commando, and unless she's mistaken, she can just make out her nipples through the dress's fabric, even in this warm bathroom. The lace tops of the stockings are just visible below the hem of the dress, and the spike-heeled, patent leather 'sandals' are both higher than she's used to and designed specifically to accentuate her ass. Blowing a Bronx cheer at herself in the mirror, she turns and returns to her ... to Nikki's ... dorm room.

Nikki has also changed into 'party clothes' and is finishing her own makeup, using a lighted mirror she keeps on her desk. She is also wearing a minidress, though it seems more... restrained than the one she gave to Tiffany. Though the decolletage is deeply cut, the burgundy material is thicker, has a less body-hugging bodice, and includes shoulder straps. It also seems that the skirt is a bit longer, though Tiffany barely notices any of this, concerned as she is with her own costume.

"Jeez, Nikki, could you have gotten me a more suggestive outfit? I look like a call girl."

Nikki smiles into her mirror, finishes applying her lipstick, and turns to survey her ex-roommate's transformation with a Pygmalionesque eye. Perfect, she thinks. Just slutty enough for a start, but her face still screams innocence...

"Honey," she says, grinning, "if you were a call girl in THAT outfit you'd hafta be an uncommonly good one. I won't tell you what I spent on it 'cause I don't wanna scare you off, but Daddy's gonna be PISSED when he sees what I've done to my trust fund next month."

Placing her right index finger against her cheek, she continues. "You know, I bet you WOULD be a towering success as a call girl. You've sure got the looks for it..."

"WHAT?!!? Nicole!"

"What?" she asks, grinning mischievously, "Babe, you're HOT when you put the least little bit of effort into it! AND you need a pile of cash, right? You should consider it! I bet we could auction off that V-card o' yours for two or three gees tonight!"

"... Can we just talk about something else, please?!!"

Nicole giggles and stands, moving towards her closet. "Sure, babe, no problem. Here, wear this," she says, pulling out a short, all-white leather jacket, "with that red hair and those clothes, the boys'll be howlin' over you like wolves at the moon."

"That's what I'm afraid of..."

About an hour later, the two girls are standing outside an apartment door high up in a building on 5th Avenue, doubtless with a view of the park. It took them that long because Nicole insisted on taking the subway and stopping to take phone pics of Tiffany and selfies of the two of them over and over again, carrying Tiffany's package from her parents all the while. Why hadn't she couriered it over with Tiffany's other stuff?

"What does Naomi do, again?" Tiffany asks nervously.

"Something to do with investment banking. Yeah, she's loaded, even without Gramps's money. And I have no idea what her roomies do, but they've all got money, too... obviously." Nikki smirks. "Don't worry, hon. They know we're friends." She wraps her arm around Tiffany's waist and gives it a squeeze. "No worries," she repeats.

The door opens suddenly and Nikki's older sister, Naomi, appears framed in the doorway. She's a thinner, taller, slightly more mature version of her sister with the same tan skin and chocolate brown hair and eyes. Her gaze lingers on Tiffany for a moment, making her squirm uncomfortably in her all-too-revealing clubwear, but then she smiles and steps back, waving the two girls in, "Hi, Nikki. Hi, Tiff. C'mon in."

She leads them into a sunken living area that's bigger than the entire four-bedroom suite Tiffany used to share with her roommates, with floor-to-ceiling windows on the street side and an AMAZING view of the park. It appeared to be the hub around which the apartment turns, with kitchen, dining area and a couple of doors to the left and more doors--Tiffany assumes they're bedrooms--to the right.

"Wow."

Naomi grins at you. "I know, right? I really lucked out finding this place at all, and I'll be spending my bonuses on it for twenty years, but it'll be worth it."

"I'm afraid there's not much privacy here in the living room," she continues, "and I'll have to ask you to contribute if you stay more than a couple days; that's only fair, right? But the couch is yours as long as you need it. Guest bath is over there," she says, pointing to the center door opposite the kitchen, "Christy's on the left and Adam's on the right. The master suite--that's mine--is next to the kitchen, so try to be quiet early mornings and late at night if you have to use it."

Tiffany nods vaguely, a little overwhelmed by the businesslike welcome from her best friend's sister. A moment later, the left-hand door opens and a petite, barefoot blonde, hair in pigtails and wearing a sheer - really sheer - pink babydoll negligee, a matching g-string with, if anything, less coverage than Tiffany's, and an open, black satin shortie bathrobe saunters in, taking the armchair across from Tiffany's seat.

"Hey, Christy. Meet Tiffany," Naomi says, "Good night so far?"

The blonde smiles at Tiffany and says, "Yeah, actually. Got a few regulars who wanted to do the naughty schoolgirl thing for a couple of hours. Made about five hundred."

Naomi shrugs, obviously only mildly interested. "Cool."

Tiffany suspects she knows what Christy's been doing that might earn her that kind of money that quickly, but she wants to keep an open mind, "Are ... you a model, then?"

The blonde smiles at her. "Something like that."

"Hey!" Nicole interjects, "Tiff and me've got places to go and partying to do! But first, the birthday girl's got presents from her family to open!" She hands the box she's been carrying around since they left the dorm over to Tiffany.

Tiffany takes the box - it's fairly large - with some trepidation. Her parents can make some quirky, even eccentric, gift choices, and she'd have preferred to open this alone rather than explain to friends and strangers why her parents had sent her a Brazilian rain stick or a collection of early 20th-century Micronesian postage stamps. But now Nicole had turned opening her family's gifts into a public event. With a sigh, Tiffany slips the packing paper off the sizable box and opens it up. Inside is a veritable barrage of silk, satin and lace beneath a note on cream-colored stationery. She can also see a smaller box in one corner, 'For Tiff' written in black marker, in Jesse's handwriting, directly on the wrapping paper.

The note reads, 'For our grownup little girl. Happy Birthday!' Smiling, Tiffany puts the note aside and looks more carefully at what her mom and dad sent her...

...and then, face reddening, closes the box and says, "Well, that's nice. Nikki, why don't we..."

"OoooOOOoh, no," Nikki fairly shouts, grabbing the box and tearing it open, "Let's see!"

She pulls up the first item her hands touch, a lacy, bright red half-cup bra and thong panty set, and says, "Ooooooohh! I like your mom's tastes! Or do you think Dad chose this one?" She giggles while Tiffany's face turns scarlet, and then the show is on. All three girls insist on seeing every item: thongs, g-strings, pushup bras, half-cup, cupless, strapless... and halter tops, crop tops, booty shorts, denim, leather, spandex and lycra micro- and- miniskirts, none of which could possibly fall lower than four inches or so down her thighs. For the number of 'outfits' in the box, the actual volume and weight of cloth is surprisingly and, to Tiffany's eye, disappointingly and embarrassingly low.

And the weird thing is, it's all quality, name brand stuff, as if Mom and Dad wanted her to be the best-dressed bimbo on the block. 'Prostitute by Prada' is what she starts calling it, at least to herself, about halfway through the mortifying display.

After the others have finished going through and, bizarrely, approving the weird slutwear collection, even going so far as to suggest what combinations might work best, Nicole hands Tiffany the wrapped box from her brother, "Looks like one last present, babez."

She takes the box with more than a little trepidation after experiencing her parents' gifts... definitely a year for the eccentricity record book, she thinks as she slowly opens the box.

Inside is a somewhat oversized webcam on a tripod, and a note:

Dear Tiff,

I thought you might like something to help you keep in touch without using your phone. The camera's actually beyond state-of-the-art and NOT available to the public yet, so please don't sell it! ;) I could get in a lot of trouble ... like jail time trouble ... if this got out into the general population before the company introduces it. It's ultra high definition but uses very little bandwidth to transmit, and has motion sensors, facial recognition and tracking, auto focus and the latest retina scanning technology. Use it to keep in touch and upgrade your crappy security! XD

Jesse

Tiffany has to smile at the note; at least Jesse didn't let her down. This is just the kind of weird, silly, possibly illegal, gearhead junk she'll find indispensable in six months gift he always gives.

Suspecting that Nikki will do the same she did with your parents' gifts and possibly damage it, you hold up the webcam and say, "From my brother."

Christy, who at first seemed to barely acknowledge Tiffany's presence but has grown more and more animated throughout her 'birthday party', looks at the cam and says, "Oh, hey. I know a few places you can make a BUTTload of money with that."

Forgetting for a moment that only she read her brother's note, says, "I can't sell this..."

"Oh, sweetie," she interrupts, "I wasn't talking about SELLING anything! Renting it out, maybe, but... look, with your face and body, there's more than a few websites where you could make a killing showin' a little T&A, maybe a little role play. Let me know if you're interested, I'll be glad t' show you the ropes."

"Yeah, I hear bondage play is very 'in' this season," Naomi quips.

While the two of them are laughing at Tiffany's expense, she leans over and asks Nicole, "Can we please get out of here and get... get a lot of drinks?"

Nikki laughs, "Sure, babe. I know just the place."