I’ve been putting this off for way too damned long. If Dust hadn’t shown up in my apartment like a school girl with a bruised eye and stolen panties then I’d probably be exploring other options. This option still sounds questionable, but it’s better than calling up every super I know. That worked really well with The Argentum Project. We might have won in the end, but it was one sloppy victory.

Emily Darnell, the head of the badged supers program, has had people trying to get a hold of me off and on for quite some time. They’ve wanted me since the whole Quillspawn debacle and they’ve gotten a lot more insistent lately.

Sylvia, my trusty silver Italian steed, is my only company as I drive to their headquarters. It’s days like this that I miss Olivia being Aureus the most. We could trade cliché comic-like lines back and forth as we drove off toward some new, unforeseen adventure. If babysitters that sat at night would be a reasonable thing to hire I’d suggest we get one once Aurora gets a little older. I miss her constant insistence that I get a helmet so I don’t slam my skull through a building or the cement.

Taking the badged super position would be amazing. Getting paid for protecting Midas would be great; not for the decent salary, but for being able to quit my day job. It would be great to have access to all of their resources, and it would make me feel a lot more like a woman obviously on the right side of things. I haven’t done anything truly questionable in a long time, but sometimes it’s nice to feel like the world acknowledges you as more than just a step better than a silver-skinned vigilante with pretty electric lights that make thighs part and eyes hood.

Some of my hesitance has been knowing I’m not exactly a by-the-book type of super and that a lot of my tactics are likely something I’d need to at least tone down, but well . . . maybe that wouldn’t matter. Either way, they’ll listen to this.

Still being early enough in the day there’s plenty of sidewalk parking and I steal the spot right in front of my destination. Everyone there knows me well enough, and I’ve had an open invitation to go right up to the woman in charge. Normally I might make some small talk just to keep everyone happy with me and maybe make a new contact or two, but I’m feeling too serious.

My hand clasps around Lida’s pendant as I reach the elevator and click on the fifth button. Elevators just don’t feel the same way they used to. I wonder if I’ll ever be in one again without thinking about Chronos and Dust.

No one stops me as I walk up to her office and knock on the door just a little before pulling the door open and stepping in. “Hello . . . I know you aren’t expecting me, but this is very urgent, and well, I’ve been dodging your department’s calls for awhile anyway.” I hate the feeling of being young and small and insignificant I still get from authority figures. How old will I have to be before a powerful woman doesn’t make me feel weak in the knees just because she’s powerful?

“Oh?” Emily looks up from the desk she’s leaning over a little too much. Her skirt is riding up just enough to give me a clear shot of her panties. It’s only enough to see they’re black and silky. “You’re lucky. Normally you have to run interference through a receptionist. She’s out today though, and I was cleaning her desk.”

She motions for me to follow and leads me toward her actual office door. It makes me think of a noir thriller, but Emily doesn’t strike me as the private eye sort. Her heels click as she walks and they also have the lovely effect of making her legs look amazing in that buttery-feeling sort of way. Legs are another thing I’ve never really looked at the same, and I’ve never really minded that. They have such an elegant curve.

A little too much about her legs is going through my mind, but shaking my head doesn’t really get rid of it or the color of her panties. Sometimes I wish memory was like an etch-a-sketch, but I’m sure I wouldn’t be the only one shaking my head. “My timing is either absolutely perfect, or abysmally awful. I hope she’s not sick.”

I really hope she’s not a super herself with eyes on the back of her head or something equally damning. It’s bad enough something about her makes me feel weak and small, I don’t need her knowing that I’m ogling her even if it’s with an attempt to be respectful and subtle.

Aside from her legs, the first thing that jumps out is her platinum blonde hair. The first thought that comes to mind about the shade is Aura, but that’s bad. I try not to compare every woman to a conquest or a woman who has had a turn at frying my mind. It’s almost glowing it’s so bright, and some of it falls over her large sunglasses. They’re the ridiculously oversized gold-rimmed sort that makes me think they’d be useful to hide bruises. She doesn’t seem like the type of woman who would be in a relationship like that but it’s still the image that comes to mind.

“Oh, she’s fine. She’s actually doing some field work for me at the moment. Recruiting and such.” She sets a stack of papers down on her desk but the detail that shines out to me is the Newton’s Cradle sitting right next to it – those metal balls that click and clack back and forth.

“I’m glad, we’ve got a dangerous line of work and all. I hope she’s having more success with them than you’ve had with me so far.” Her glasses actually do look pretty once you get used to the oddity. I can’t tell what the papers are about without looking too obvious and I don’t feel like making myself seem suspicious. I make eye contact, or at least try, and take a deep breath. “But yes, I . . . I stumbled upon something I admit is too big for me, and I thought I could call in for some backup . . . and I just might take you up on that offer.”

Idly, Emily grabs up one of the silver balls and releases it to clack into the others almost as if to provide an ambience. Maybe it’s just a nervous habit; it does make me feel a little nervous, almost as if I’m being timed. “Oh? Well tell me about it.” She sits back in the chair behind her desk, and it’s one of those desks that make her legs sweetly visible.

Legs even half as pretty as hers shouldn’t be visible in a workplace.

Taking a direct glance would be in the worst taste imaginable, but peripheral vision gives me enough of a view to be satisfied. I’m tempted to take the seat in front of her desk, but sitting would only make me feel smaller and more in a position of obedience. A lot of this is going to depend on how confident I can be. If I falter, she might think my information isn’t worth as much.

I don’t have a reputation for being reactionary and I’d like it to stay that way. “I’ve been working at taking out the Dust Ring, but I ran into a hard roadblock after the time I reported when her goons booby trapped my shower. But this morning . . . she came to me, because someone was after her, someone I think could be even more dangerous, especially if she got her hands on Dust . . . and that seems to be her intention. Since she’s done it before, I had to see the sense in Dust being a little worried.”

“Done it before?” Her voice is politely curious as it fades into a slow yawn. Leaning forward, she tents her fingers in front of her face as the silver balls continue to clack against each other in the background. Under the desk, she crosses and uncrosses her legs in a very purposefully pretty way. “Tell me everything, and feel free to take a seat?”

“Remember a little thing called Chronos . . .?” My hands rest on the desk and I lean a little over it, trying to ignore her legs. If I focus on them too much I’m going to get all bothered and it isn’t going to help me think straight or seem very confident at all. The clacking and her tented fingers . . . they strike a chord in my mind but I must be too focused on the task at hand to be giving it enough thought. “Do you mind if I stay standing? It’s a bit of a drive and I spend most of my week sitting at a desk . . .”

As far as excuses go, I’ve made a lot worse. As far as excuses that will be accepted and taken for anything less than an insult or an excuse, that one is definitely up there. I’m not a very good liar sometimes. It was a lot easier when I was lying about my name. Even the earnest smile must not help much.

“Oh come now. We’ve been calling you. You don’t work at a desk all day. You stand all day. Please. At least do me the courtesy of taking the offered seat?” She smiles politely, and I imagine if I could see her eyes through the thick shades that I would be able to see the sincerity I can hear in her voice. “And yes, I heard about Chronos. It was before my time working in this field really, heard about them on the news though.”

The silver balls continue to clack behind our conversation almost as if a reminder that time is passing. Whenever I’m in Silver Girl mode time doesn’t feel like an issue. Maybe I should start wearing a watch. Either way, the clacking makes for a nice reminder that not everyone else lives in a timeless state.

Smiling apologetically I smooth out my skirt before taking a seat. I keep my legs together instead of mimicking her motions. My skirt isn’t long enough for me to risk giving fate a chance to embarrass me. “Fine, fine, you backed me into a corner!” I try to keep a warm, upbeat tone, but my stomach is full of very enraged or nervous butterflies. “Dust was a member of Chronos, if you remember . . . She was one of The Lady’s top recruiters, and well, the Dust Ring she’s made would be one hell of an asset. Dust might be malicious, but she’s just a drug dealer now. The Lady was a lot more, and she’s gotten out of jail. Now she’s after Dust.”

“A lot more? I don’t know about that. She was . . . well, a serial recruiter, yes, but she wasn’t anything more than a white collar criminal really.” Under the desk she keeps on crossing and uncrossing her legs. She’s wearing the sleek sort of hose that make her legs look naked – just a darker tone of skin from the rest of her.

Her heels look like they were made just for her, and she was made for them. She’s far too curvy. Even without glancing directly I can see too much of her thighs, and yet not enough. “But I see what you mean. Do you think this . . . Pink is working alone?”

“The Dust ring is too organized to take down as it is, and Jesse Colloten was a genius at the twisted games Dust is playing as a novice. I can’t imagine anything getting better for us if she took the reigns back and even still . . . Dust is a person, an outlaw, yes, but if we can protect her from this, well . . .” I wave my hand, trying to motion that it would sweep over everything, and try not to use it as an opportunity to take a full glance at her legs. I’m flushing as it is. Something about this feels too familiar. “I didn’t mention Pink . . .”

Emily doesn’t miss a beat for even a moment, she just shifts her legs again. “I have my own sources. How can I not? Dust isn’t the only one who’s gotten into trouble . . . is it not Pink who’s been bothering her? I was wondering if you had more information than I did . . .?” Her finger runs along the edge of her desk, and she shifts her legs again, spread a little too much for a moment too long as if stretching, and then they cross again.

The metal ring filling the air resonates in my mind and a shiver spreads down my spine. That feeling of something being off I’ve been fighting? It feels a lot more solid, and that makes it very hard to stop squirming. “. . . Of course. I would be disappointed if you didn’t . . . and who else? It is Pink . . . honestly, the only other bit of info I have is where Dust is hiding. She’s a little tight lipped, and I thought that this was something best started on right away. She’ll be around to ask questions as long as we can keep her away from the candy queen. And I hate to ask, but could you maybe take off your glasses? They make me feel a little uncomfortable. It’s not too bright in here. I’m keeping my glow down.”

“Oh. Am I still wearing them?” Her voice fills with surprise, almost believable. It likely would be if I couldn’t feel each hair on the back of my neck rising up individually. “No wonder I’m so tiiiired . . .”

Emily lets out a large, over-exaggerated yawn, stretching out those gorgeous legs in a way to catch all the light, making her legs look almost oiled . . . She almost looks like she’s all dolled up for a fetish photo shoot of women stripping from fancy suits. I would certainly pick up a copy, but I have the feeling it would be pretty exclusive.

All of the best things are, after all.

“I had completely forgotten. Mmm . . .” She reaches up and takes off her glasses, tucking them away in a drawer. Her hair that screams bleach falls in front of her face. I recognize that face, and I recognize those eyes. I only wish I had recognized sooner how fucked I am. “So, where is Dust staying? We might be able to get her some protective custody . . .”

The metal balls clack in perfect time with her words, and in perfect time with brief pauses in my own thoughts. There’s no one else this could be, and I really wish her yawn hadn’t made me want to yawn. I’m still waking up so feeling a little fuzzy is natural, but not a good thing in a situation like this. “She’s safe right now, but I . . . I’m not really all too sure I am. Tell me something: you’re not a natural blonde, are you?”

My voice must be dripping with dread, but there’s not a lot I can do about that. I was so stupid. How could I not recognize her voice until now? How could I not recognize those legs just because they’re not coated in skintight pink?

“Oh?” She looks up at me, and some of her hair falls from her face. “Everyone always says that, but you know?” Her legs cross, and then uncross before they start to arch. “The funny thing is that I am one hundred percent natural blonde.” The metal clicks, clacks, and clicks in perfect rhythm, and she sounds perfectly honest. “Though I used to dye it . . . I looked much more natural as a brunette, don’t you think?”

“Jesse . . .” My voice catches in my throat. I try to say more, but my voice feels tight in my throat. Tears burn up in my eyes, hopefully not enough to be seen, but she . . . goddess. A natural blonde, I never would have guessed The Lady would be blonde. I never would have even questioned it. I have to wonder just a little when she found the time to dye it without letting any of us know, but she could have done anything without us knowing a thing. I might have even helped her dye her hair. “Yeah . . . The blonde just . . . doesn’t suit you quite right. Nor does a building with less than a hundred floors . . .”

“Didn’t actually own the whole building. Rented out different parts to a few law firms.” Her legs cross and uncross anew, in perfect time with the click clack click clack of the balls glistening just in the corner of my vision. “Oh. Look. My secretary is finally back from her recruiting mission.” The back of the chair only goes up to my shoulders, but I only notice it when a delicate pink-nailed hand reaches around to tilt back my neck, and tufts of pink hair fall into my vision.

The clicking, and those balls . . . Goddess, knowing for sure who she is, remembering all of the times I spent in her office, it makes my eyes flutter against my will. My uniform feels constraining and the room feels too hot, too small. My body won’t stop quivering, just shaking and goddess, I never thought this would happen. “P-pink . . . Jesse, Lady . . . I . . . I can’t, I spent all this time getting past this, getting past us, I can’t, I’m not silver anymore . . . I don’t want this. I’m going to go.”

“But we’re about to do your makeover!” Pink’s voice chimes out just as bright and sugary as I remember it, and I can see the light of the silver balls reflecting into her adorably large blue eyes. From the corner of my eye I can see the tube of pink lipstick being twisted before it’s pressed against my lips and smeared liberally over them before I can even gasp. “You wouldn’t think it would be a color that suits you . . . but it so is!” Her voice is full of giggles, tasting like the past, like memories, and most of all like hot candy and slack-mouthed drooling.

I can still remember crying awake at night wanting to hear their voices, and now, goddess, their voices are the last things I want to hear. Moaning, my body freezes, or more melts into stillness, and goddess, for the first time I actually try to resist them, the first time since that lolly, or . .. I didn’t even then, but goddess I have to try now. The drool is already starting to drip over my lips, but I try to pout them into the stick and spark, send a million amps or magic jolts or whatever they are right into her pretty hand . . .

But my lips pout, they do what they’re supposed to do, but my pretty pretty bright flashy sparklers . . . they don’t come! Maybe the lipstick is some kinda anti-conductor or . . . She keeps smearing it, more and more coats of it and it tastes so sweet I can feel the sugar pouring into my eyes. “Soooo pretty . . .” Pink steps back just a little and tips my head back more . . . and there’s a mirror up on the ceiling, right above so I can see myself, pink lipstick smeared on like a street walker looking for the right kind of client or . . . “Now press your lips together firmly, really even it out . . .”

The pretty mirror lets me see The Lady’s legs from under the desk, still crossing and uncrossing . . . those pretty silver balls glistening, smacking, almost as loud as Pink’s constant giggles. “Mmm . . . She looks very fetching.” It’s The Lady’s voice, but I can only see her legs . . . it almost sounds like her legs are talking to me.

Wish my lips could spark . . . How? The tears in my eyes build up a little more. I tried, I always felt awful for the times I could have tried but I didn’t, enjoyed it too much and froze, but I tried, I really tried this time, and it makes me shudder each time those balls clack, every second my lips press together and squirm back and forth like hot candy-coated treats. “Doesn’t work . . . I’m broken again . . .” I keep trying to spark, keep trying to rub my lips together harder to make the sparks come out, but my mouth already tastes like the candy . . .

The worst part is how damp my panties feel.

“Just a little. They had you wound too tight . . .” The shifting legs speak into my pretty candy head again, right with the rhythm of the pretty clacking silver balls. God her legs are so pretty, would be great to cover them in the pink lipstick and . . .

“Yeah!” Pink’s pretty cottony voice giggles just a little. “And we just turned the key a little bit farther . . .” A finger presses against my back and starts to twist. “Snap! Go all those stupid strings. Don’t worry . . . Fix you right up!” The lipstick does really look so much better after my lips push together, so much, shoving the drooling candy heat, silver and pink, shining so pretty, but my lips are soft, dull . . . like my eyes.

Who wound me too tight . . .? I groan and keep pressing my lips together harder. My hips shake every time the balls clack, and I try to rub my thighs together but I wanna part them at the same time, and the finger makes me whimper and whine as I grind against it. It reminds me of something, fuck, suck, something, but it feels so good, and her legs are so hot, and the chair has to be stained under me, just like my lips are stained and drooly and hot. “Mmmm . . . snnnnap . . . more snap . . . more legs . . . nnn . . .”

“So right you are!” More bouncy giggles flow over me as I see the pretty Pink hair moving and kneeling down between my legs. “This is lipstick, and we haven’t painted all of your legs yet, have we?” The hot legs shift and move up, resting on Pink’s back as she squirms closer between my own legs, and starts to reach up under my pretty skirt. “Silly wet panties always getting in the way!”

She giggles so pretty, I love giggling with her and smiling like a little girl with hot dirty thoughts. My legs shudder as her hands move up higher and I let out a soft little whimper. “Nnn . . . other lips . . .? Other . . . other . . . Oooh . . . Noo . . . Still all shiny . . .” it’s so hot, like watching one of my own dirty dreams, watching some other silver girl getting pinked, getting slutted up, turned into a wet lipstick slut, getting . . . “Yeah . . . can always not wear ‘em . . . if you want . . . ya know . . . Mmmm . . .”

Giggles and arching and moaning and pressing my lips together more is like being wrapped up in a pink sugary heaven. I never ever wanna leave!

“Totally!” Pink starts rolling the wet cotton down my slick thighs and then right to my knees. She doesn’t pull them any farther, but that makes it a whole lot hotter. “All shiny shiny!”

The Lady’s left leg wiggles, and it makes the whole left side of my body tighten and writhe. “Mmm . . . So be a dear, and tell me where Dust is staying.” Her leg reaches out, almost in some “come hither” sort of way, and it somehow makes the balls clack louder. “She really does need my protection.”

Between my legs the pretty pink hair bobs in agreement, and it makes giggles spill out of my mouth like crazy. She’s just so cute, so pretty, and that leg is just so fucking hot. Feels soooo good!

Clack, clack, god I wanna grind my lips into that leg so much, rub and make them so drippy wet pink! “Mrrrr-uh! She’s . . . she’s at m-m-myyy place, with Olivia. Mmmm, told her to wait and take care of her, said we’d get some backup!” I know she’ll help, mmm I know she’ll totally help. She’s clearly thinking sooo much better than I am!

“That’s a good girl,” the legs speak in the prettiest, softest voice. It’s almost like a coo. Her feet even tip in pretty thanks, like a nod. Oh that leg is so cute!

“Oh your lips are so pretty . . .” Pink coos in just the right way to make me feel extra warm and gushy. I feel pretty! I feel happy and pretty and warm and wet. Oh so wet. “But we can make it better!” She reaches a hand up, spreading and oooh goddess, I can feel it rubbing, coating over one side, then the other, two, three . . . . six . . . ten times . . . oh it feels so good! “Sooo pretty!”

The scream tears so hard through my throat and my toes are curling so hard it feels like some of them might break off. I try to clench those prettier pinker lips together like I am the other ones, but I feel so light headed, kinda hard to focus on difficult things like things I can’t see, but it’s sooo pretty, so . . . Feels so good to be called a good girl, to be called pretty, haven’t been called a good girl in forever! “Oh . . . like being a pretty good girl . . . tee . . . something keeps trying to say somethin’, but it’s not important, is it . . .?”

“No.” One of the pretty feet of the pretty legs shakes as if to agree with the word. “No. It’s not. And you never have to listen to it again.”

Pink tufts bob more and I giggle at how pretty they look. “Totally not. Never listen to it. I never do!” She giggles more than I do, and I start to feel the lipstick moving past those pretty lips, rubbing all over inside, feeling so good and hot and warm and wet! Mmm! “And I’m perfect! Now clench your pussy all tight like that too, to even it out. Yeah! Like that!”

“Mmmissed you pretty legs . . . Missed you a lot . . . Youuuu too Pinky!” Everything is so silly and so happy and drippy with girl juice or lip juice. Everything is such a riot, so giggly cute sweet laughy funny, and I just groan and clench harder than I ever have before, exposed and dizzy and, “Oooh fuck, teehee!”

“I’ve got the dye right here.”

“Ooh!” Pink pulls back from my skirt and looks over at something. “Oooh!” She giggles more, louder and happier. “Blonde would look so hot and fake on her wouldn’t it?” She rubs the lipstick just a little more, finishing it off deep inside before it goes away. “Fuck me pink lips. Screw me hard blonde hair. Slap my ass silver skin.” She giggles even more, giggles melting into my pretty heady head as she stands up.

I giggle right along with her, it’s so fun, like a sing-a-long! “Oooh . . . Slap myyyy ass! It’s the silver one!” Wiggling and arching my hips I spread my legs more and more, moaning and trying to grind out into something, want more! “Mmm, fuck me, Pink! Lips!” Teehee, it’s so clever, clever as that secretary with the lollies was however long ago that was . . . and she had pink hair too . . . wait! This is her! Teehee, I’m so loopy.

“Okay!” Pink giggles and ooo! A flap on the bottom of the chair opens up and her hand starts to smack my ass harder and harder. It stings but it feels so good!

“Mmm, the hair . . .” The pretty legs cross and uncross, almost seeming a little scolding. Up above them silver balls keep on clicking . . . Is it faster? Harder? Pink bounces up, hair so much fluffier than it had been before, bouncy in pretty pig tails, as she grabs a tube of something off of the desk and starts to squish it into my hair. “Very fun new hair dye product we’ve developed. Stains down into the roots.”

Pink giggles and starts to massage it into my scalp all hard and hot, pretty little fingers feeling better than anything else ever. “And beyond!”

Oh I wish she’d kept her pretty hand down there just to swat my ass, oh it’s almost enough to make me gush pretty pink all everywhere, but oh . . . I can feel the silver balls inside of my head, and maybe they are! Can’t really see them from this angle, eyes all not really open, such pretty hair in pig tails . . . Oh, that’s Pink’s hair not mine! I laugh like I did once when I drank way too much before giggling more. “Tee . . . hee . . . Beyooo-oooh . . . head likes it when you touch it like . . . What’s it dooo?”

“Like um . . . Bleaches out the hair . . . Bleaches out the thoughts . . . bleaches out the brain! Bleached blonde beach dummys!” Pink giggles and rubs it into my hair more, running it over some of the strands, but mostly into my scalp, rubbing it in hard and deep, giving it a hot trailer trash look, streaks of silver and blonde.

“Bunnies, Pink. Bleached blonde beach bunnies.”

“My way’s beeeeeetter!”

The legs and Pink, they’re both so silly and sexy and hot! “Mmmew . . . hair, thoughts . . . but like . . . have lotsa gooood ones! Can I have some of . . . mmmm . . . nnn . . . these like . . . the hot ones ‘bout you?” Giggles and groans and staring at the blonde and the pink-haired girl in the mirror really feels like all there is anywhere in the world. It’s so hot! “Whose way . . .? Nnnraa . . . teehee . . . I love you two so muches!”

“That’s all that’s left really . . . Some squishy thoughts . . . Some grindy thoughts . .. Some thoughts that are put there . . . Those are the best . . .” Her pretty pink fingernails work deep into my scalp, feeling all like pretty shampoo . . . Oh . . . she’s already done? Her pretty pink tongue flicks out to clean the tips of her fingers. The girl in the mirror has some yellow spots on her neck and her shirt, making them look all pretty and stained. She looks so hot! “And! You totally need pig tails! Doesn’t she?”

“Oh, of course.” Hair ties come out of nowhere and start to pull my pretty trailer trash silver-blonde hair into two big messy pigtails. “I didn’t wear pig tails till this person was like grinding me, and reached up and grabbed my hair and it was like so good cause the scalp is totally an erogenous zone, right? And pig tails can be like, ya know, handles? So gotta have fuck handles.”

God, Pink is so fucking smart. If there was Pink, a doctor, and like, a Ph.D doctor, Pink could totally make herself so much smarter than both of them, and make them smarter and hotter too! “Handles . . . mmmm . . . like my bike! Vroom, vroom!” I try to make more motorcycle sounds before imagining being driven up those legs in the mirror and just moan, clenching harder at the sight of the pretty blonde girl in the mirror. She looks so fake! Girls don’t look like that unless someone makes them look like that. It’s so fucking hot. “Mmmmm you’re like so smart . . .”

“Oh, totally . . .” The legs pull away from where I can see them, and that makes me pout a little. “You have no idea. Give me your hand . . .” Glossy slap-on nails, stylishly short, white tipped, snap on over mine. It feels yummy! “Cause like, you don’t have time to grow your own, ya know?” she giggles more, and it makes me giggle more, and feel even better when the legs come back.

“What do you want . . . fishnets, sarah? Stockings?” Ooo, one of the pretty legs has one on, the other has the other . . . The legs disappear again, and slide out one at a time. “Knee high sock, multicolored . . . school girl . . .”

I wiggle my fingers to feel how it feels to wiggle the pretty longer nails, and “Mmm” at imagining what it would be like to look like the pretty girl in the mirror who looked like she had time to grow – oh! Me again. Hard to think past all the blonde roots . . .

Mmm, the knee-high looks so good, I could burst just looking at them, and it reminds me of something, something I could fight when I was all thinky, but now it’s just too fucking hot and strong. Knee-high socks are sexy and gushy and hot. Looking at them, having them on, makes me all wet and gushy and flowy and it feels even better with the pink lipstick on down there. “Oooh . . . knee-high is kinda school girl kinda . . . Ooh makes me all gushy and weak, wanna nuzzle ‘em and wear ‘em and touch . . . teehee, wanna touch legs, kiss legs, griiiind!”

“Knee-high whites it is.” The legs wearing them reach out, and the long heel of her pretty shoe presses up between my legs as Pink moves away.

“Faa . . . aa . . . ‘ck!” My throat feels all cracky and high pitched. It keeps getting higher and higher as I keep on giggling, but I love it and don’t even care. When her pretty shoe moves away the tip is smeared in pink lipstick, and I dunno when my boots came off, but the pretty pink haired girl is rolling those white socks up to my thighs, making me scream and shudder. It makes me gush even more, clench pussy and clench toes and really wish I had something to suck on. “Gawd!” I can’t hold back the giggles or the moans, my eyes cross feeling all empty and glassy and hawt.

When my eyes go all uncrossy so I can look up at the mirror I can see big platform shoes being hooked onto my feet, weighing them down. Pretty light pink eye shadow is being put onto my pretty face. My skirt stays where it is, but my shirt and pretty bra get torn away, and instead I get a tight white tube top with two pink splotches over my nipples. “No bra! Comes with support and padding, makes your boobs look huge!” Right under the pink splotches in pretty pink words the shirt says “Got Brains?”

Ooh as if the socks alone weren’t making my legs feel all heavy and warm and fuzzy, with the shoes I dunno if I could ever walk again! My tits really do look really huge and pretty! Mmm that girl in the mirror, I want to fuck the hell out of her and . . . oh . . . me again. I still wanna fuck her up rotten! “Teeehee, do you liiiike them all huge?” I groan and arch my back, trying to make them look even bigger.

“Totally, and it’s the fun organic huge from bra and padding, not all like . . . fakey.” A pair of huge gaudy silver earrings get clipped onto my ears and I giggle even more. “Sooo pretty . . .” Pink giggles and bounces away, and somewhere behind her I can hear something . . . something dialing. “Now Sarah doesn’t really work as a name for you anymore does it? Kinda . . . less normal . . . more like . . . T and A? T and A . . . That’s totally what she is, isn’t she?”

“Oh yes . . .”

“T and A . . . T and A . . . Tanda! She looks like a Tanda!”

“A very fuckable Tanda.”

“That should soooo be her fuck name.”

“Want that to be your fuck name, Tanda?”

“Tanda!” Feeling way too heavy to do much at all I still try to bounce and giggle, bounce and giggle. Dialing? What is that sound, what would be all dialing . . .? It’s really such a hot name . . . I wish I could make my T bounce more to get my A slapped more, that would be sooo hot! I roll my hips and clench my thighs and whimper in the most pleading voice I can. “Fuuuuck the fuckable Tanda . . . Pretty fuck-name!”

Pink bounces happily and just stares at me, looking so hot and pretty and mmm. I’d love to be fucking the fuckable Pink! “Fuck the fuckable Tanda. Way better trigger phrase, huh?”

“If she were ever not triggered.”

“Right, but people are sooo much more responsive if they’re just fuckable all the time.”

“So like . . . um . .. she is Tanda?”

“Her fuck name is just all the time!”

“Yay! Fuckable Tanda!”

They keep talking, one and then the other, legs and the pink hair, and I can’t keep up! They have like, different voices, but that’s not enough for me to tell who’s who. They should know a fuck slut like Tanda can’t keep up with complex talkamajigs! Pink bounces all happy beside me, and I think it’s the legs that talk. “Shhh everyone, it’s ringing . . .”

“Whoo . . . whose ‘it’s’?” I giggle, but try to make it really quiet, wiggling and bouncing. Mmm, being triggered all the time means more fuckable, more getting fucked! That feels so hot and good and oh yummy. “Oh . . . phone uhm . . . whoo?”

“Don’t worry . . . Just say what I say, while Pink does your name justice . . .”

“Oooh, I can do that . . .” She sinks down between my legs, and I feel her roll a nipple between her fingers as fingers shove deep into my sloshy pink lips and everything goes all fuzzy, just listening and repeating, being fucked like a good little fuckable Tanda as Pink has her Tanda way with me. It feels soo good . . .

Some time passes, fun time, time that makes me feel fuzzy and hot thinking about it. All I know is that my lips move and I manage to do just what she says. I only know that though because The Lady’s pretty leg voice talks. “That was peeeerfect . . .” The phone makes a clicky sound as it hangs up. “Such a fuckable Tanda.”

“I liiiiike being a fuckable Tanda!” I clench harder around the hand playing between my legs, whine loud as I can. It feels so good to giggle and moan and forget what the word “moan” means and just giggle . . . it feels so good! “What do I get to do noooooow?” Goddess, I dunno which number that was . . . five? Fifteen? Twenty-five? In the mirror my pretty body is all shining with sweat and my thighs feel all shiny with cum.

“Just a little mind melting role playing . . .” A wig drops onto Pink’s head and a pink-nailed hand reaches up to fix it. In the mirror, the way Pink is dressed, the way the silver wig looks . . . Oh god! It looks like me, like I’m down between my legs! “Now Tanda. There’s a silver-haired moron deep inside that always wants stupid mean things. You know what you do?”

“Waa! I want to think! Waa I want to be my own pewson! Waa! I’m over you! Waa!” The silver-haired me between my legs speaks up at me, but it sounds a lot more like Pink. It’s totally me though.

Curious, I listen and flutter my eyes a little up at the mirror. “You wrap your legs tightly around her head and shove your pink lips against her mouth . . . and you fuck her silent.”

“Oh! I can toootally do that!” I tip my head down and look down at her. Silver . . . god it’s silver down between my legs. Didn’t I used to be her? Am I still her? “Gotta fuck all of that whining away!” I wrap my legs tight as I can around her neck, and grab her hair, arching and grinding, fucking that pretty pink mouth with my pretty pink lips. “Shuuut uuuup! Not happy voice . . . wanna fuck . . . love them! Love the legs and the pink!” My voice sounds all serious, totally serious, but its all giggly and ditzy. That’s totally a voice a girl like Tanda would have.

Down between my legs Silver keeps trying to talk between my grinding, before she starts to shudder. “Waa I wanna think . . . wann . . . wanna . . . nngggfuuuuck . . .” Pretty silver hair goes all limp between my legs but I keep grinding, fucking her pretty face and moaning like a good Tanda.

“Isn’t that so much better?” The pretty legs talk to me again, and one of the feet reaches to press into the back of her head. It makes it feel so much better to grind into, so much more friction!

Feels so nice, feels so nice to smother all of the whining out of that silly voice between my thighs! Still gotta keep grinding though, just incase she starts to try and speak up again. She feels so good to rub into, so hot! “Dooon’t wanna think! Never think, never, good girl . . . Oh it’s so much better! Do anything, fuck, Tanda good fuck girl . . . good, oooh . . .!” It feels so, so hot to fuck away my own mind!

“There you go.” The pretty foot pushes the silver hair away and the voice between my legs flops limply to the side. “You’ve done it. You’ve beaten her. She’s yours. You can fuck her when you want or you can just leave her to lay there. You never have to listen to her or anything ever again.” The foot comes up again, and the tip of the pretty shoe presses between my spread legs this time, and presses in a hot gentle little circle.

Pink steps back around behind me, but I can still see a silver-haired girl limp on the floor . . . and Pink puts something on The Lady’s desk, then something else, then more and more and . . . oh god, her whole desk is covered with the pretty clacking balls!

Whining, shuddering and screaming, I try to fuck her shoe as hard as I can, hands kneading at the pink splotches on my shirt, oh fuck, fuck my mind, let her lay there, fuck the shoe, it all feels so good, so perfect, clicky clacking, forever, so loud, screaming louder and clenching and rubbing and fucking! “And Tanda is youuuuurs!”

Things keep getting hotter, but I can’t focus anymore, can’t think, too cummy, cum brain, hard to think, easier just to fuck and sink . . .