Let's go over that definition again... (Pink Trigger's Power >399)

"Before we continue, I'd like to check a definition with you."

"Hm? What are you, a detective now? That's usually my line..."

When we began this game, you agreed to a handicap, right? You said that you'd have no swimsuit.

"Of course! That's how I got into this humiliating position to begin with! T-Temporary humiliating position! Once I'm inside and redressed, this will become a proper mystery again!"

Sure it will, Erika. But hm... What would you call this thing Piece Erika is wearing now?

"A duct-tape bikini- Mrf!" the great detective gasped, before clasping both hands tightly over her mouth.

Bikini, hm? You wouldn't say that's a type of swimsuit?

I believe I'm well within my rights as game master to relieve Piece Erika of anything that violates the terms of our game.

"Noooooo!!"

Ah... I, H.I. Player, have stumbled upon something most wondrous. I hesitate to imagine that my luck could get even better. It's as if I've rolled a perfect number on the Demon's Roulette tonight.

What's this...? The tape is slipping!! Oh.... oooooh! It fell off! That detective's swimsuit just fell off!

I barely had time to glimpse the exposed parts of that now huddling figure of the young lady, as she turned her ass towards me and desperately ripped off more pieces of tape, dropping the lock-box altogether in her frenzy. With a riiip and a ziiiip, she finished the best she could manage... an article that couldn't possibly be called a "bikini..."

Her pussy and nipples were covered with square-shaped strips of sticky tape. I don't think she even bothered to cover her ass. Her legs were trembling and her face was bright red... I wondered how much of it was fever and how much of it was embarrassment.

Oh... There's no pubic hair... Aha! Nevermind. It's just waxed.

"What, are you just going to leer at me without saying a thing!? I'm a ship-wrecked girl! I need help!"

Ah... Good to meet you. My name is H.I. Player. I'm actually a ship-wrecked boy- oof!

"In what world are you a boy, old man?!" the inelegant young lady jeered, elbowing me in the gut before taking my umbrella from my hands. "Let's just get to the damned guest house already!!"

I'm... I'm not an old man... I'm only vaguely past thirty...

Groaning, I observed her bare butt extra hard as a form of payback (and self-pleasure). I followed that bouncing bottom all the way back up to the guest house Erika had come from. Ah... at this point in the story, are you wondering if Erika was hiding some junk in the trunk under that skirt of hers? Well, fellow readers...

No. She was not.

I'm not letting a skinny butt deter me, and neither should you. Learn to love all kinds of butts and perhaps the witch will choose you one day...