Veronica swore to Betty she had a way to make Archie pay for playing them against each other all these years. Betty wasn’t so sure but she was pissed off enough to go along with V’s schemes. But…frankly she was a little let down when the drunken poker game Veronica had rigged against Archie ended up with a lame payoff dare from Reggie: Arch had to dress like a girl all day and be at Reg’s beck and call no matter the task. Pff. Archie and Jughead had cross-dressed on purpose dozens of time for their harebrained plans. Boring. Even Archie seemed relieved.
But when Betty saw the hot girl Veronica’s personal stylists had turned Archie into, she started getting intrigued. This was new. Arch certainly seemed ill at ease. Not to mention, several boys made passes and grabbed his ass before realizing who it was. If they realized. Even with the height and same hair, contour makeup and cute clothes really did make the woman.
Betty went to congratulate Veronica at the end of the day. Arch had been thoroughly embarrassed and demoralized. Especially after Reggie made Archie sit on his lap during lunch and feed him. Archie had been red-faced since and wasn’t looking anyone in the eye. He didn’t even glare at the new wave of folks (boys and girls…and a few teachers?!) that catcalled him and smacked his ass. Heh! That’ll teach him to use girls like pawns in his dating games.
“You are an evil genius, Veronica! I think Archie has finally learned a lesson this time.”
“Oh I don’t think we can let him off that easy. Reggie and I have one cherry to place atop Archie’s shaming. Well…his cherry, that is.”
Betty had no idea what more they could possibly do. Veronica led her into an empty classroom where Reggie was putting Arch through his paces. Walk with books on your head, take sharp turns in heels, sit on the desk and practice crossing your legs in a skirt. Archie’s face glowed crimson but he didn’t fight it. He just complied with a “yes, sir” when commanded and a “thank you, sir” when Reggie called him a good girl. Where was the smug smirk, where was the wheeling and dealing? What had happened to that boyish rogue and where had this girl come from who was so…demure.
“Enough games, Reg darling, let the girl serve you.”
[let me know if you recognize the artist. would love to see more and give credit.]
Too much green beer, I guess. St. Patrick’s Day might be over, but the morning after can still be celebrated!
“Honey, ohmygod, I’m so sorry.”
“I told you, Pop, I want this. I need it.”
“You can’t be serious. It’s wrong. It’s awful. I’m awful. I’m so sorry. Is it because we let you snuggle into our bed whenever you had nightmares, even into high school?”
“Silly Daddy, I haven’t remembered my dreams for years. The only nightmare I’ve had recently is the fear of not feeling you hard-on poking me in the morning. Speaking of…hello there. Let me just help you with that. Mmmm, it feels so good to be able to grasp this thing firmly. You know for years I’ve gotten such a nervous thrill, stroking it lightly over your shorts, begging you and Mommy not to wake.”
“Sto-, Sweetie, stop it. I’m sorry, this is wrong.”
“Oh Daddy, if you wanted me to stop you would stop me. Or…” she let go, looked down and a realistic crying quaver came into her voice, “…are you saying I’m not attractive? Is that it *sniff* am I too ugly, Daddy? Will anyone *sniff* ever want me? All my friends always say Mommy is a MILF, you know? But me, everyone calls me a leprechaun. Too short, too ginger, *sniff, am I an ugly duckling?”
“Oh no, Sweetie, you’re very attractive. Just as beautiful as your Mommy. More, even.”
*sniff* “You’re just saying that because I’m your little girl.”
“No, Baby, you’re a bombshell. Anyone who can’t see that is an idiot.”
“Do you *sniff* really think I’m hotter than Mommy?”
“You’re my little girl but even I can see that.” You reach out and hug her tight. Her large breasts press against you chest, nipples perky. She shakes a little from crying, not helping the sensation.
*sniff* “How so?”
“Well you have such beautiful, hair. More silky and unique than your Mommy’s brunette bleached blonde hair. Your eyes shine and surpass her dull brown. Your lips are fuller and pouty.” She kisses your collar bone…is she pressing her chest into you, intentionally trying to rub her nipples into yours? “…um- your boobs are very, uh, developed.”
“I’m glad you noticed.” Her voice sounds smoky and seductive. No hint of choked back tears. She looks up into your eyes. Hers aren’t puffy or red or wet. “All those years of wearing thin t-shirts around the house weren’t for nothing. Nor the bikinis or tight sweaters.” She grabs onto you again…down there. “I guess this thing couldn’t lie. You think your daughter is hot, Daddy? heehee”
“G-ah! Umm, I mean.”
“Shh, let your bombshell daughter take over, Daddy. I’ve worked so long for this. Leaning over you in loose tops, bending in short skirts. You looked, naughty Daddy. Now you can touch.”
Of course when you got there you saw your frat brothers out on the lawn horsing around. Men sporting sundresses with chest hair sprouting where cleavage should have been. Big beards over slips, their junk tenting the smooth fabric and obviously not tucked thoroughly as you had. And certainly no one else had shaven their legs. They were parodies. No one came close to passing. Even though they’d all assured you there would be prizes for the most convincing getup.
Freaking out, you asked your girlfriend to pull away immediately before anyone saw you. She just took the keys, got out and started striding away, greeting your roommate loudly. Shit!
“Who’s your hot new frien-” your roomie started in, “Oh my god! Sam!?!? You’re smokin’! I can’t believe this worked- I mean, that your outfit is so good. The seniors need to see this!”
You were quickly ushered into the house – past many roving eyes, wolf whistles, and ass slaps – to the house elders. After much laughter and being made to twirl and bend over you were summarily declared the winner for the title “Queen Sissy”. Yay? Wait, the prize was to be the Party Hostess? You’d have to take everyone’s orders, drink and…otherwise. If everyone wasn’t pleased by the night’s end, you’d have to dress like this for a month!?
You looked to your girlfriend in panic. She just smirked and said in a sultry voice not to worry, that she’d teach you exactly how to please all the men. This was met with raucous approval.
Your girlfriend is ‘just friends’ with a lot of guys and gals. But you thought her buying these panties after all your hand wringing about it was a bit of a smack in the face. Especially when she greeted a few of them at the door in just these and a midriff baring top.
ProblemCollectionLove 