Britney's Bunny

Silvy Richards


Creeping down stairs to the basement, Eric tried to be as quiet as
humanly possible. Seeing the large suitcase that was still placed next to
the door that connected to the garage, he figured this might be his only
chance. Taking a deep breathe, he quietly unzipped it. Just a couple of
days earlier he had helped her stepsister and his step mom zip it shut,
Isabelle having had to sit on top of it in order to get it to closed. How
exactly he was going to reclose this monstrosity of a suitcase by himself
was totally beyond him. All he knew was that he had to find those satin
lace training bras that were packed inside.

***   ***

A few days earlier his step mom had called him up to Isabelle's room and
asked him if he wanted any of his stepsisters' castoffs. Presenting him
with some unisex sweatpants and sweatshirts, some with hoodies, some were
gray, and others were black; Eric threw a very stereotypical macho fit
stating he wasn't interested in wearing ANY clothes that belonged to a
girl, ESPECIALLY if they formally belonged to his older and overly bossy
stepsister.

"Mind telling me what's  ~wrong~  with these clothes?!?" asked his step
mom, rather irked. "There's no lace anywhere. The colours are plain. What
more do you want? I'm not made of money you know!"

"Look, all these sweatshirts have..." grabbing one of the gray hoodies,
searching for the right term, but all he came up with was: "... boob
marks."

Referring to the indentation marks that had been caused by Isabelle's
massive breasts. Ever since early puberty, she liked wearing tight
clothes, in order to show off her many bodily assets.

"Boob marks? You mean these little bumps in the front? Are you serious?
You can barely see them! A few times in the wash, they're bound to go
away."

"~Plus~, if someone looks in the back, they'll see the small tag that
says it's for girls!" Eric tried adding his argument, and before she
could respond he also added, "But most of all, Isabelle's going to tease
me about wearing her hand-me-downs and tell everyone I'm wearing ~girls
clothes~."

"So what if people see the tags, or find out the clothes once belonged to
your older stepsister. What' the big deal?" she tried to reason with her
step child, before eventually giving up.

Seeing his face turn red in anger, Isabelle seized the opportunity to
twist things around, in order to further embarrass her little
stepbrother.

"Look, he's blushing! I think he secretly ~wants~ to wear girls clothes."

Grabbing her first communion dress that was hanging in her closet, which
she had finally decided on saving as a keepsake, she playfully waved the
short pink dress in front of him. "Instead of the sweatpants and
sweatshirts, maybe you'd rather this cute little dress instead? I mean,
as long as it stays in the family, I don't mind giving it to you! Come
on, you know you want it!" she egged him on.

Can't helping herself from letting out a short laugh and grinning, his
stepmother added, "It would probably fit him too, no alterations,
nothing."

"Ha, ha, ha. Very funny, can I leave now?" Eric asked, desperately
wanting to flee the situation.

"No. We need your help to zip this thing shut," referring to the
suitcase. "Then, with those strong arms of yours, you're going to haul
this suitcase down stairs to the basement. I want you to leave it next to
the door, with the other bags of clothes."

Every couple years the family got rid of their old clothes, giving them
to the poor, and being relatively new the household, Eric wasn't used to
giving his clothes away. The stuff he was giving away only consisted of a
bunch of old rock old t-shirts, some jeans that had holes, and a few
outgrown sweaters. He didn't want to get rid of his t-shirts or his
jeans, but his step mom had forced him, telling him they were way too
worn out and needed to be tossed. They were already downstairs inside a
plastic bag. His stepsister had so many clothes, that a massive suitcase
was needed.

Right before sealing it up, Eric spotted a bra strap sticking out from
one the inner pockets of the suitcase. Right away Eric recognized it as
being one of her old training bras, one that was rather fancy, made of
lace and satin. Always having being fascinated with bras, he figured this
might be his only time to inspect a training bra up close. Only once had
he seen one of his stepsisters training bras, and even then he hadn't had
the chance to even hold it.  It had been one of those seldom times he had
gotten the nerve to snoop in Isabelle's room when she wasn't home. She
had a massive walk-in closet, with many many dresser drawers. And that
day, by luck, he opened one drawer that contained some of her old
underwear. Before he could even touch any of the satin garments, Isabelle
had walked though the front door, and he had to scramble to get out of
there. Coming so close to getting caught, Eric vowed to himself never to
got into her room again. He knew she would go ballistic on him, and that
his stepmother would for sure take her side.

***   ***

Gently unfolding the suitcase, Eric panicked a bit when clothing started
spilling out from the sides, being that everything had been jammed in
together. Carefully re-stacking the clothes that had fallen, he placed
them on the side, and in his mind he was preparing his bullshit excuse if
ever got caught. He would just say that he had changed his mind, and that
finally he would be keeping a pair or two of her old sweatpants. But that
was only if he got caught, which he wasn't planning on getting.

Pausing to hear what was going on up stairs, and finally hearing nothing,
he continued. Finding the the small compartment on the side of the bag,
remembering it had been the left side of the bag, he quietly unzipped it
and was immediately rewarded as a bunch of training bras came into view.
'Jackpot' he thought to himself, as he pulled out the first one his
fingers touched. Holding up what turned out a pink Victoria Secret
training bra, Eric gulped as his fingers caressed the satin. Rubbing them
on his face, he couldn't get over how soft it felt, and for the first
time ever, started wondering what it would feel like to wear. Blushing at
the mere thought, Eric almost shoved the bra back with the rest of them,
but then slowly hesitated, and listened up stairs for any noise.

"Fuck it!" he whispered to himself, and quickly unbuttoned his pyjama
top. Franticly putting his arms through the straps, and after three
failed attempts at clasping the back, Eric almost gave up before finally
figuring out the solution. Unthreading his arms, he turned the bra around
and hooked it together, twisted it around again and finally re-fed his
arms through. Looking at himself in the mirror and feeling his nipples
through the soft fabric, he couldn't get over the over all sensation the
bra was creating. Adjusting the the straps slightly, he felt just a tad
less constricted, yet the over all hugging affect the garment was
creating wouldn't seem go away. 'How do women deal with this feeling' he
wondered to himself, when all of a sudden he heard a noise.

Not having time to take the bra off, Eric quickly grabbed his pyjama top
and re-buttoned it as fast as he could, as he ran for the couch and sat
down. Un-muting the television, he pretended to be engrossed with 'Who
Wants to be a Millionaire' which just so happened to be playing.

Marching downstairs with a smirk upon her face, Isabelle walked passed
him and then suddenly stopped when she saw the opened suitcase. With a
somewhat phony tone she asked him: "What's the meaning of this?"

"Uh... I... just..." He then paused for a second, trying to remember his
lame ass excuse. "... just... wanted to make Mom happy, so finally, I'll
be taking a pair of your sweatpants. The black ones."

Squinting her eyes in confusion, she shot right back in an aggressive
tone: "If you wanted my black sweatpants, why are they still are they
still neatly folded beside the suitcase, along with my camisoles, my
sweatshirts?!?"

Not having had enough time to put things away, he gulped and replied with
the first thing that came to mind.

"Uh... uh... the commercial was over, and I didn't want to miss
anything."

"I thought you hated this show!" she shot back without missing a beat.
"In fact, didn't you tell Mom you were never going to watch this show
ever again, all because of that time you lost a bet to her?"

***   ***

The bet she was referring to had just recently transpired between his
stepmother and himself. Not that the two of them often made bets with
each other. It had been their first and only one. Just happened one day
as they were watching this very same program, 'Who Wants to be a
Millionaire?'. Right before a commercial break, a question was answered
by a contestant, and instead of telling the poor woman if she was wrong
or right, Regis, as he often does, anounced it was commercial time.

Being sure the woman had answered the question incorrectly, Eric had
shook his head and said, "Poor woman, and she was doing pretty good so
far."

"Excuse me? Did I hear correctly? You think she's wrong?" challenged his
his step mom.

"Come on, everyone knows that Madonna's first hit was 'Holiday'. I mean,
Jeez, of all people, ~you~ should know that," he had said with his
trademark smartass tone.

"Actually, you're right. I did grow up listening to Madonna, and I can
tell you for a fact that 'Holiday' ~wasn't~ her first hit. As a matter of
fact, 'Lucky Star' was even released before 'Holiday'. Her first true
hit, the one that really first got her noticed, was 'Everybody'."

"Listen, 'Holiday' ~was~ her first hit, and I'm ninety-nine point nine
percent sure of it!" Eric stated ignorantly.

"Oh yeah? How about we make a bet then? Quick, before the commercials are
over," she challenged him with an evil smile.

"Ok, if I'm right..." thinking of his dreaded weekend chores, "... this
Saturday, I won't have to pass the vacuum, instead, ~you~ will!"

"Fine. But if ~you~ lose... " she squinted her eyes a little and pondered
his fate, "... you're going to have to pass the vacuum wearing one of
aunt Lisa's ~sexy~ approns."

Referring to a present she received recently from an old high school
friend, who wasn't really his aunt, Eric knew which aprons she was
talking about. They were from a sexshop and were considered more as
'bedroom approns', in the sense that they resemble very much like frilly
lingerie. Having quickly caught a glance at them while she had been
opening the present, the aprons appeared to be made of silks, satins,
lace, and other see-though materials which he couldn't indentify.

"You mean wear one of those aprons over my clothes?" Eric asked, not a
hundred percent sure of the terms of the bet, not fully knowing how
eccentric his stepmother was.

"Of course over your clothes, you silly boy! That is, unless, you'd like
to wear ~only~ the apron? If you want, I don't mind, we can incorporate
that into the bet if you want?" she played with his mind, as she put on
her serious face.

"No, no, no..." blushing beet red, "... I was just making sure of the
terms. Fine, if I lose, I'll wear one of those aprons over the clothes.
But if I win, and ~I will~, you're doing the vacuuming!"

Quickly sealing the deal with a handshake, the commercials had ended and
Eric had gotten the terrible news that his step mom had been right. He
had lost the bet fair and square, much to his disbelief, and vowed that
he was never going to watch 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire' ever again,
which had made his stepmother laugh even harder. The only consolation was
that his stepsister had been away that weekend and, luckily for him, she
had missed out on his humiliating chores. His step mom had taken a
picture of him that day, but only sent it to her friend Lisa, with the
caption: 'Look, they're being used!'.

No copies of that picture was ever made, at least not to his knowledge,
and fortunately for Eric, his stepsister never got to see it. She still
beats herself up over the fact that she missed out in all the fun.

*** ***

Walking over to the suitcase, Isabelle pointed down towards her training
bras which were all lying askew on top and asked, "Mind telling me why
you unzipped the side pocket and took out all of my old training bras?
Let me guess, you were looking for loose change? Old hockey cards? Car
keys? Come on, quick, give me an answer!" she snapped at him.

Unable to come up with an answer, Eric decided to take the fifth and kept
his mouth shut.

"That's funny," Isabelle said as she collected all the bras and started
counting them, "I could've sworn I packed ten bras in all, two of each
colour, and there's only nine. There's a pink one missing!"

Walking over to where he was sitting, doing the best acting she could she
started to play stupid: "I know, you and your friends were going to turn
it into a slingshot, right? But do you know what? I'll be nice, I won't
tell Mom, so just hand it over and I won't mention any of this to her."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have it," he finally
responded, trying to find away out of the situation.

"Let me guess, you're sitting on it," she continued with her
interrogation.

Shifting one seat over on the couch and lifting the pillow that was right
next to him, he confirmed: "See, it's not here! Now get out of the way so
I can watch TV in peace! I don't know where you silly bra is, so leave me
the hell alone!"

"I know, maybe I should ask Britney's Bunny? Do you know why? It's
because Britney's bunny never lies," Isabelle said sarcastically and
walked to the stuffed animal that was sitting on the stereo. "Do you know
where my pink bra is Mr. Bunny?" she asked mockingly and put her ear up
to where the bunny's mouth was and listened.

Thinking she had finally flipped her lid, he literally turn white when
she whispered: "He's what? No way!" followed by, "I don't believe you!"
as she stared at Eric's chest and giggled.

"What's that? You have proof Mr. Bunny?" to which she reach behind the
stuffed animal and pulled out a computerized memory card out it's back.

Waving the memory card up to his eyes so he could see exactly what it
was, even showing him that it had a UBS port and all, she plugged it into
the side of the TV and with a flick of the remote, the image of their
basement appeared on the screen. Keeping her finger on the fast-forward
button, in fast motion they saw Eric place all three bags of clothes next
to the door, followed by him lugging Isabelle's suitcase. After a moment
of nothingness, Eric reappeared on the screen and he was clearly in the
process of opening the suitcase. Pressing play just in time to see him
unbutton his pyjama top, Isabelle demeanour changed drastically.

"My favourite part is when you try to put on the bra like a big girl, but
just can't seem to get it hooked up. I almost thought you were going to
give up," she commented as the scene in question started. "Look, this is
it!" at which point Eric was making funny faces, struggling to hook the
bra on blindly, like he had already seen other women do. Finally giving
up and flipping the bra around to put it on a different way, Isabelle
congratulated him with fake enthusiasm. "That's a good girl! You did all
by yourself! I wonder what Mom's going to say when she sees this! Not to
mention ~all~ your friends!"

"Okay... fine... listen... please..." Eric began, realizing the amount of
the shit he was in, "... w-what do you want?"

Knowing she had him by the balls, her first demand was that he re-pack
the suitcase, and with her help, sitting on top of it, they zipped it
back shut. What Eric didn't understand, and was way too afraid to ask,
was that she had personally hand picked six of the ten remaining training
bras that were in the hidden pocket and purposely packed them right on
top of the pile of clothes, instead of just zipping them back up with
rest of them. Two were cream coloured, two were white, there was a couple
of yellow ones, and finally, another pink one, very similar to to one he
was still currently wearing. They were all very much alike, in the sense
that they were all made of satin and and had lace all over them. They
also looked like they were almost brand new. Turns out, as Isabelle
explained to him that will growing up, she found those training bras to
be way too girly for her, being she was somewhat of a tomboy during early
adolescence, so she never really wore them much.

"Next, you're going to haul this suitcase back up those stairs, it should
take you a while, and then you're going to go find Mom. That should give
me more then enough time to fill her in on what's going on." Grabbing the
stuffed animal and getting ready to make her leave, she turned around and
added, "You're also going to complain and say you had no idea I had put
bras in here."

"But, what do you mean?" Eric asked with genuine fear. "What is going on?
What are you going tell Mom?"

"It's simple, I'm going to tell her you lost a bet me. A big bet. A very
big bet, that grew ~so~ big, that ~many~ embarrassing consequences were
added to it. The same kind of bet you lost to her, with Who Wants To Be a
Millionaire, and you being ~so~ sure of a certain answer. I'm going to
tell her you were ~so~ sure you were willing to bet anything. All the
house chores for a week, no driving time with the family car, ~plus~..."
she paused and placed one of her well manicured fingers to her chin, in
mock reflection, then finally said, "... You know what? I think I'll let
Mom tell you the rest." Isabelle smirked from ear to ear, as she slowly
headed back up stairs. "And don't even think about taking that bra off!"

"Yeah but, when can I take it off?"

"Mom will let you know," she said with a smile, as she finally ran up the
long flight of stairs leading up to the living room.

*** ***

After making the long trek up the stairs with the massive suitcase in
tow, Eric heard his stepmother's voice coming from the kitchen. Rolling
the luggage on the wheels was much easier, but he wasn't in any rush.

"Okay Lisa, I'm going to have to let you go now. I hear the sound of a
rolling suitcase heading my way..." to which she laughed and finished
with, "... okay, I'll tell him that too. I'll call you later," then
finally hang up.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't mister smarty-pants who just lost yet
another bet, on trivia no less, to his older and much wiser stepsister.
Didn't I tell you that trivia wasn't your strong suit!" she gloated
reflecting on the time she made him wear his girly aprons.

"Yeah, okay, it was kind of stupid of me," was all that Eric could manage
to say.

"So..." she stretched out the tiny word only to continue in a catty tone,
"... ~how does it feel?~" As she reached out and fingered his bra strap
through his pyjama top, and came down and did little circles where his
nipple were. "Does the satin feel nice and soft Sweetie?" she asked
teasingly.

Blushing beyond belief, all Eric could think of replying was what he was
instructed to say by Isabelle, "Listen, I didn't know she put her old
bras in the suitcase, okay?"

"Well that's obvious..." his stepmother giggled a bit, "...but you still
haven't answered my question young man!"

"Yes and no, it feels kind of itchy and tight," he blushed avoiding her
eyes.

"Well that's because you're just not used to wearing a bra. Don't worry,
just like all gilrs, in a few days you'll forget you're even wearing
one."

Hearing her say the words 'a few days' made Eric gulped, as he still had
no clue on how long this humiliation was going to last.

"So, open the suitcase. I don't have all day you know? Let me see what I
have to work with?"

'What the fuck is talking about' Eric wondered, as he lay the suitcase
flat and unzipped it.

As the six training bras came into view upon opening it, his stepmother
reached down and picked them up.

"So these are the bras you'll be wearing this week? Priceless! You sister
really picked out the girliest ones, didn't she?"

Eric became white upon hearing the news and came very close to screaming
'ALL WEEK?!?', but instead bit his tongue and desperately tried to figure
a way out of this mess.

"And look, you're lucky, looks like they've never been used!" she said as
she examined them a little closer. "I guess they were just a bit ~too~
girly for her! Granted she was quite the tomboy back then."

Pausing for a second she thought for a mommet and finally asked, "She
isn't blackmailing you, is she?" Not putting it past her that her
daughter wasn't capable of doing such a thing. "It would kind of make
sense, so you better not lie. Because you do know how I hate lying," she
added sqinting her eyes, gauging his response.

"No, of course not," he blurtted out, glowing even more red, knowing full
well that that might have been his only ticket out of this situation. The
problem was: if he admited that he was being blackmailed, it also meant
he'd have to come clean about the whole thing, which would mean admiting
to lying straight to her face, and more than just once. He knew for each
individual lie he had told her, there would be consequences. He'd lied
about the entire bet from begining to end, that was one. He'd lied about
watching Who Wants to be a Millionaire, that was another. He'd lied about
not knowing that the training bras had been inside the suitcase. Admiting
to the truth was totally passed him at this point. All he could do was
touch wood that she would never find out.

Putting the bras aside, and saying that this was this was the designated
'yes pile', she started going through the other clothes and inadvertently
let the cat out of the bag as to what was coming next.

"So, besides being forced to wear a training bra all week, doing all the
chores, and giving ~all~ your 'car time' to your sister, from what
Isabelle told me I ~also~ get to pick out another item of clothing! Wow!
How lucky am I?" she asked mockingly.

Finally understanding what was going on, Eric went face went from white
to red as realised more items girls' clothes were going to be added to
his wardrobe. As she started stacking the sweatpants and the sweatshirts
on the side, Eric decided to take a shot and asked if he could have a
week supply of either of them.

"These sweatpants or these sweatshirts?" she asked with skeptisism, but
he knew it was all just an act, that her goal was just to put him into
his place. "Weren't these clothes already offered to you? And didn't you
~refuse~ them? No, you had your chance with these. Besides, look at all
this other stuff!"

Holding up one lacy camisole after another, she finally said, "These
would go perfect with your bras, don't you think? Look, they've even got
lace too!"

Seeing this was torturing him, she anounced she was going to put the
camisoles in the 'maybe pile' and started going thought the other stuff.
All the clothes that were relatively passable as being boys stuff, were
being placed with the sweatshirts and sweatpants, as she would say "Nope"
to each and everyone of those boyish items.

Squirming with frustration, Eric began to redden anew when she found a
bunch of leggings. Some were stirrup pants, while others appeared to be
almost like tights.

"What about wearing these ~girly~ pants for a week? Do you think you
could handle that?" she asked with an evil smile.

"Or maybe, instead of these pants..." she began saying with renewed
excitement as she eyed something else from the suitcase, "... we could go
a different route, and I could make you wear these instead!" As she
unbundled and waved a pair of little girl socks, the kind worn with
MaryJanes. Not only were they pink, but they even had the lacy frills on
top of them.

"Or maybe some girly pyjamas for a week?" Holding up a semi-frilly
nightgown that would maybe reach his knees if he wore it, "These are a
~definite~ maybe, don't you think?" she toyfully asked as she placed them
with the other items she deemed to be possible 'maybes'.

Unzipping the side pocket, revealing where the training bras had come
from, his mother pointed out that there was another side pocket on the
other side of the suitcase. Widening her eyes, she playfully suggested an
idea that Eric hadn't even thought considered, and immediately got him
worrying.

"Wouldn't it funny if Isabelle packed the matching satin panties in that
pocket?"

Before she even got the chance look and see, Eric finally decided to
speak up, and quite embarrassingly asked her if she was serious.

"Awe, come on! That's not funny! You wouldn't actually make me wear her,
her..." he slightly paused, almost unable to articulate it, "... her old
underwear... would you?" Eric asked all wide-eyed and visibly nervous and
uncomfortable.

"What? You don't think I'd make you wear her old panties, is that it? Her
frilly little lacy panties, all soft and satiny, just like the little bra
you're wearing right now? You think that would be ~mean~ of me?" she
asked with a smirk that almost begged to be challenged.

"Come to think of it, it wouldn't be ~that~ bad. Think about it, at least
you'd have your own pants to cover them up! Sure, people might know
you're wearing them, just though word of mouth, because I'm guessing your
sister will probably tell a ~bunch~ of people! But like I said, at least
you'll have your pants covering them up! It's not like they'll be able to
see them directly! Well, actually, maybe on 'Gym Day' they might catch a
glance..." she stopped to laugh a little at the thought, "...but I know,
you could just go change in one of the stalls! I'm sure that would
probably work!"

Half not sure if she was bluffing or not, Eric was speechless and wasn't
sure what to say, affraid he might make things worse.

"Tell you what, I'll make you a deal..." his stepmother began with a
somewhat sadistic gleam in her eyes, "... even though I'm supposed to
have total final say, I'll be nice and give you the choice. And not just
a choice, a multiple choice! You can either: ~A~... wear the lacy
camisoles for the entire week. ~B~... you wear the leggings and other
girly pants instead. ~C~... you can choose the the frilly little girly
socks. ~D~... you'll sleep in sexy sleepwear for the enitre week, ~OR~
option E... you wear whatever's in this pocket, no questions asked!"

Before getting a chance to response, his stepmother contined with her
dialogue, planting even more scary seeds along the way.

"Who knows, maybe it's empty? But before you make your decision, I think
it's only fair to warn you that if indeed the matching panties are in
there, well, they ~will~ be on the extra frilly side! I distinctly
remember buying her the matching panty sets for each and everyone of
those training bras, and for pretty much the same reason, she never wore
them because she found them to be a little too girly for her taste. I
think it was the satin that she didn't like, or should I say, she just
simply not used to it at the time. It takes a little time to get used to
wearing super soft underwear, you know? But then again, who knows? Maybe
you'd like it?" she ended her questioning with a smirk.

Unable to find his words, due to his total indecision, his stepmother
began humming the tune from final Jeopardy, and once the song ended she
cut into his thoughts by saying, "Forget it! You know what? You took too
long! Now ~I~ decide!"

Closing the top of the suitcase, and turning it around so that she would
get a firsthand view of what was in the side pocket, she started
recalling specific details of the panties she had in mind.

"They were her first 'big girls' panties from what I remember. In the
sense that it was the first time she had been given underwear that wasn't
made of just plain old cotton. Instead, they were made of 100% satin,
with a little touch of lace here and there. Just like these bras
there..." pausing and giggling a bit, she corrected herself, "... I mean
~your~ bras!"

Drawing out the anticipation even longer, she continued with other
details regarding the panties. Squinting her eyes a little, and with mock
concern in her tone she added, "Of the ten panties that went those
training bras, guess what? Half of them were ~thongs~! You know the kind
with the little triangles in the back?"

Lifting the lid of the suitcase just a tad, she finally slowly unzipped
the little compartment.

"So... survey says?" she began, but then let out a gasp and started
nodding her head. Continuing with her nodding for a good twenty seconds,
she finally announced with all seriousness, "It's not looking good..."
and with her frown turning into a smirk, she finished her phrase with,
"...for ~you~ that is!"

Still not sure if she was bluffing on whether or not she had really found
the panties, or even if she'd actually make him wear them if indeed they
were, Eric took a shot and said, "Bullcrap! I don't believe you! It's
empty! Damn it, I should've picked 'option E' while I had a chance!"

"Is that so?" she asked all amused and smug. "In that case, you're
~definitely~ going to be wearing these this week!" As she reached in and
yanked out a pretty little pair of pink panties and started playfully
waving them back and forth.

Turning beet red, Eric began to plea his case right away, "Aw, come on! I
can't wear those to school! What are people going to think?"

"That you were stupid in the first place for making the bet?" she
answered sarcastically. "It's no one else's fault mister! You made your
own bed, now it's time you've slept in it!" she snapped at him
aggressively.

Seeing Isabelle out of the corner of his eye, Eric finally noticed she
had been listening in on all that had transpired. Blocking her nose with
her fingers so that she wouldn't laugh out loud, she momentarily let go
of it, put her thumb up to her nose and started waving her fingers and
sticking out her tongue mockingly, unable to wipe the smirk off her face.

Wanting to call her out on eavesdropping, Eric gulped anew when he looked
over to where Isabelle was silently pointing to. Sitting on the couch,
also silently witnessing all that had taken place was Britney's Bunny.

Continuing with her on slot, Eric's stepmother went on to say that she
was glad he had lost the bet, and that maybe, just maybe, in the future,
he'd think twice about running his mouth off. Humming away to herself as
she colour coordinating the panties with the training bras at the same
time, she ended up choosing three thongs and told him he should consider
himself lucky because he was going to actually experience what it was
like to wear a G-string.

"THREE THONGS ?!?" he practically shouted, unable to hold back any
longer.

"What's wrong? Three isn't enough? Okay, let's make it four then." she
stated matter-of-factly, as she made a last minute switch. "There's only
one left, care to make it five?" she toyed with him.

Grabbing a pink thong from her selection and casually holding it up to
his waist, she impatiently told him there was no time like the present,
"Okay, take those off, it's time for you to change!"

Involuntarily letting out some nervous laughter, Eric asked, "You don't
mean here, do you?"

"Of course I mean here! Your pyjama top is long enough to hide
everything! A bet's a bet young man, now drop em'!" she ordered, getting
more aggravated by the second.

"Could you turn around at least?" Eric begged with pleading eyes, afraid
she might just catch a glance at his slightly small and underdeveloped
penis.

Putting the panties aside for a second, she started unbuttoning his
pyjama top and slapped his hands away when he tried to stop her.

"If you think you're going to tell me to turn around, you've got another
thing coming! Now not only are you going to change into your frilly
little panties in front of me, I want to make sure they're a suitable
match!"

Taking his top completely off, she held up the tiny thong up to his
training bra and announced with a cruel smile, "Just perfect!"

Standing there wearing only a pink training bra and his pyjama bottoms
(he always went commando when he wore his PJs), Eric felt her fingers
untying the string that was holding his pants up, and figured this was
it, she was going to finally see firsthand on how small he really was
down there. Only he was dreadfully mistaken.

"Now ~you~ turn around, and do you know what? Put your hands on your head
while you're at it!" she barked out more orders as her anger grew.

Turning around so that his privates wouldn't be facing her, she yanked
his pyjama bottoms down when he was least expected it. In pure reflex,
his hands shot down in order to cover himself up.

"Did I say you could cover yourself? Put your hands back on your head
right now mister!"

Complying with her demands, Eric put his hands back on top of his head,
and far way, coming from Isabelle's room, loud laughter could be heard.
Suddenly realising why she was laughing, his eyes shifted to the stuffed
animal that was sitting right in front of him.

"See, your stepsister's in her room, so you don't have to worry about a
thing." Reasoned his stepmother, as she threaded the pink panties up his
legs and slowly put them into place.

Cupping the front of the panties with her right hand, checking to see if
she done a good job in covering his entire package, she let out a little
giggle and said, "Wow, there isn't too much to cover up, now is there? Oh
wait, I think I felt a pulse!"

Blushing like never before, Eric start to have an erection and there was
no stopping it. Even more laughter was coming from Isabelle's room, and
his step mom commented on it.

"It's a good thing your stepsister's in her room, I'm guessing she would
be on the floor laughing her ass off if she could see you right now!" she
teased as she also kept re-adjusting the front of his thong to
accommodate his growing problem.

Embarrassed beyond belief, knowing full well Isabelle was watching every
minute of what was going on, only made his boner grow even harder. As her
final adjustment was made, it all proved to be too much for him to take.
Buckling his knees, letting out a moan, and finally uttering, "Oh God!"
Eric uncontrollably came in his panties right there on the spot.

"Wow! You really like these panties, don't you?" she laughed at her
stepson, who still had his hands on top of his head. Reaching for the
other pair of pink panties, the ones that had a full-back, she handed
them to him.

"You can take your hands down... Erica!" Using her new nickname for him,
"Now I want you to go the the bathroom, clean yourself up, then change
into these panties when your finished. Soak the thong you're wearing now
in some warm water, then put them in the laundry basket. Got that
Princess?"

Thinking to himself that maybe, just maybe, if he negotiated the right
way he might be able to get out of this mess, he desperately gave it one
last shot.

"What if, instead of wearing panties, how about if I wore the frilly
socks ~and~ the leggings instead?"

"Okay, here's how it's going to work. You still don't seem to understand
who's in charge here, so here's what you're going to do: Instead of
putting that suitcase back downstairs, you're going to haul it up to your
room. Why? Because a long with your new lingerie, you'll be wearing
~everything~ that's inside this bag for the ~entire~ week? Have I made
myself clear? Not a stitch of boy clothes for the ~entire~ week! Now if I
hear one more 'if' or 'but' out of you, believe me when I say I ~will~
add even more embarrassing things. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yeah, but..." he started saying without even realising he used the word
'but'.

Throwing her head back a letting out a loud audible sigh, she let him
have it.

"So you want more? Okay! When you're finished with your shower and once
you've changed into your new pink panties, you're going march your little
hiney up to your sister's room, and you're going to ask her for that
pretty little dress she offered you the other day. You remember, the
little pink one with lots of lace? I want you to put it on, right there
in front of her, and then, you're going to wear it until bedtime! As a
matter of fact, not just the dress either, might as well wear a little
lacy slip under it also. She also kept a lot of her old high heels, so
tell her I told you to set you up with a pair."

Growing redder by the second, both from extreme embarrassment and from
over boiling anger, Eric simply said one word in defiance, "No."

"Oh really? Well, not only are you going to have to do ~everything~ I
just said, but because of that tiny little outburst you just made, you're
also going to be taking bath instead of a shower. Do you know why?
Because you're also going to shave those pretty little legs of yours. And
once you're finished shaving them completely, you're going to work your
way ~all~ the way up, until you reach your armpits, and ~no~ detours
along the way, if you catch my drift!"

Bug-eyed and dumbstruck, Eric turned white as a sheet of paper.

"Now one more word out of you, and I swear to God, come Monday, you'll be
wearing that pink little communion dress to school! Have I made myself
clear?" she practically yelled, having finally reached her limits. After
a few seconds of awkward silence, all Eric said was, "Crystal."

Out of no where the telephone rang, and all of a sudden, almost like
magic, the scene was over. Eric was dismissed by his stepmother, and very
sheepishly, he exited the room with the massive luggage rolling behind
him.

"Lisa! I ~have~ to tell you what just happened!" his step mom began to
say upon hearing her friends voice over the receiver. "You're daughter
left her bunny here?" she asked momentarily confused, finally turning to
see the stuffed animal that was sitting on the couch. "Yeah, what about?"

But it was too late. Eric was already out of earshot, so he missed
everything that was said afterwards.


*** ***

Half way though shaving his legs, Eric distinctly heard something that
immediately put a smile to his face. It was coming from just across the
hall, and from the sound of it, Isabelle was getting the spanking of her
life her.

"I'm sorry Mom," he heard her plead as her bottom was getting tanned.

"YOU LIED TO ME!" his stepmother yelled at her, never missing a beat as
she slapped Isabelle's ass even harder.

An even bigger smile spread across his face when he heard that.

Twenty minutes later, as he was just about finishing up shaving his left
armpit, Isabelle stormed into the bathroom and went straight for the
medicine cabinet, retrieving the soothing lotion she desperately needed
for her sore bum.

"Ever heard of knocking!" Eric snapped at her, trying to hide his
nakedness behind the bubbles that remained floting around in the tub.
"What's wrong? ~Does your little bum bum hurt?~" he made fun of her, now
that he felt that he finally could. Continuing with a smirk on his face
he added, "She really whipped the shit out of you, didn't she?"

After a brief bout with frustration, Isabelle's face changed, and an evil
smile appeared.

"You know, when I barged in a few seconds ago? Well I kind of glanced
over real quick and, I might be mistaken, but, it kind of looked like you
were shaving your armpits."

Walking over to the tub, she looked down and let out a wolf whistle.
"Wow! Look at those shaved legs! My, my, my, what are your friends going
to say?"

"GET OUT!" Eric yelled, not knowing how else to deal with the situation.
"Get out before I tell Mom!"

"Oh that's true, about Mom, I almost forgot: she wants to see you when
you're finished in here."

"What about?" Eric asked hoping she would give him some kind of clue.

"Well, I kind of sent an email to a friend of mine, and that email kind
of had a video link attached to it. And well, that email kind of got into
the wrong hands. Aunt Lisa's hands to be more specific."

"What do you mean?" he asked, too afraid to draw his own conclusion.

"You still don't get it, do you? You still haven't figured out why I got
a spanking from Mom? Let me give you one final clue, four words to be
precise... Britney's Bunny never lies!"


*** the end ***

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