.Land of the Sylphs

Fashion for Cents

Cool stuff, huh?

Where did I get the idea?  Well, shame, really.  Yeah, ironic.  Oh, you want the whole story?

Okay.  Well, we were sitting in the living room.  I had just kicked Cleo's ass at Halo for the 10oth time and she owed me a favor.  I looked over at Lassie and said, "Lingerie."

Lassie was sitting on the lip of her cage door, watching TV.  She looked up and around.  "Huh?  What?  Are you undressing her again?"

"No," I said.  "I'm thinking of dressing you."

"What?" Cleo asked.

"Well, we need some costumes for Becky's Halloween party.  I was thinking...  Lassie in Lingerie."

"Okay."  Cleo reached over for her ever-present sketch pad.  She quickly outlined Lassie's form.  Then her pencil hovered.  "Like what?"

"Well..."  And that's when the shame kicked in.  See, I used to have a really large collection of Playboys.  I got rid of them when Cleo started spending a significant amount of time at my place. 

She keeps a pocket-sized white woman naked 24/7 because the power of control gave her a thrill, but she found my fascination with the feminine form disgusting.

Well, whatever.  She's fun, and she brings Lassie along, and there are harder things in life than a hot girlfriend with a hot naked pet.

So anyway, I had seen this lingerie in a Playboy issue and I really thought it was hot.  I tried to describe it, everything short of calling up the issue on the electronic copy.  Yeah, I got the hard drive with every issue, cover to cover.  You? 

Well, you can look it over.  Just not when Cleo is around, obviously.  Or Lassie.

So I really suck at describing stuff.  I don't know a gusset from a strap from a...thingie.  And I couldn't draw it.  Trying to draw while Cleo's watching is like trying to cook for Anthony Bourdain.  Or acting while John Gielgud is in the audience.

But I did see some marking pens.  And Lassie had gotten up and walked over, watching.  She's so pale, you know?  Like Christina Ricci when she was Wednesday Addams. 

It just seemed like the most natural thing in the world to pick up her and a marker.  "The one I'm thinking of is blue," I said.  "With a, with a...  Well, it covers this part."

And then I drew it on Lassie.  Yeah, the whole thing.  She squealed a bit when I drew on her ribs.  But she mostly just sat through it.  And the color worked well on her skin.  I just kept adding details as I remembered them.

Cleo was silent the whole time.  When I finally set Lassie down on the table she got a mirror out of her purse and held it up.  Lassie posed and looked at herself for a bit.

"And garters," she finally said.  A long finger stretched out to scrape a pointy red fingernail along the sylph's thigh.  She giggled and flinched as it tickled, then nodded enthusiastically.

"Doable," she said in the end.  Lassie jumped up and down, clapping.  She loves getting attention, and she knew she was going to be handled a lot before the final fitting.

Cleo started sketching.  Lassie spun in place, offering views and striking a pose now and then.  At one point she was even suspiciously close to the back-issue photo I was remembering.

I think she even winked at me.

But I wasn't about to discuss it in front of Cleo.  She gets dangerous jealous when Lassie and I talk about attractive women that aren't Cleo.

There was nothing on TV so I was looking for something to do.  My mom had brought over some decorations for the apartment.  Those gel things for windows? 

We had some translucent pumpkin figures and black cats and witch out lines.  I put a few of those on our windows.

I was playing with a black cauldron when I had a thought.

"Hey, Cleo?  Can I borrow a pair of panties?"

"Toldja," Lassie said with a mischievous grin.  "He's outta the closet and looking for Mr. Right."

"Shut up," I said. "I just need to see how they lay out."

"The only panties I've got in this apartment," Cleo said, "are in my jeans."  Then she shifted her voice to her Western Drawl.  "You can have my thong when you pry it from my warm, jiggly ass."

"Deal," I said, dropping to my knees before her.  We kissed and I started playing with her belt.

"AGAIN!?" an incredulous sylph complained. "My God, you two are cross-endorsements for Viagra and the Energizer Bunny!"

"Hsshesh," I said.  I tried to hush her, but my mouth was under another's control.

I got Cleo's pants off and stripped her thong down with my teeth.  She lay back on the couch and smiled.

Then I stood, stretching the thong out flat.  "So, the angle is about..."

Lassie's high pitched giggle squealed about the time Cleo grabbed my pants in an iron grip.

"Yes, ma'am," I said.  She growled.  "Yes, Cleo, you young and vibrant woman who only qualifies as a ma'am in terms of your natural presence and the waves of authority that the enlightened male can perceive."  She spread her legs, then spread her fingers on her upper thighs. The pose accentuated her center, drawing me down and down, straight into her lair like a particularly chipper fly to the center of the spider's web.

Oh.  Well, enough of that.  We, uh, we had a bit of fun.  Lassie?  No, man, she never, you know, joins us.  She always watches, though.  That seems to get Cleo hot, which works in my favor.

No, she doesn't shut up.  She remembers having sex and critiques every move and sound.  "Oh, that's her 'squooshy inside' moan, baby.  You're doing very well." Or "Don’t forget, she has no gag reflex!"

It's...a little disconcerting, but it gets Cleo so hot she...  Never mind.  I said never mind!

Eventually I got back to the gel.  I shaved the cauldron down thin with a knife, then cut out a pair of panties.  I used the thong as a reference.

I had Lassie stand with her legs apart and lifted the thong up between her legs.  Then the straps just wrapped around her hips, sticking to her skin.  I trimmed off the overlap and there she was, dressed. In a bright orange, slightly see-through thong.

That's when the artist took over.  Quick as a wink, Cleo had a black and orange version of the blue lingerie cut out and slapped in place.

The see-through quality of the gel made it even hotter.

"We should make these," she said.  "We could sell them."

"Edible," I said.

"What?"

I shook my head to stop staring at the nude but not-nude Little Lassie.  "I think edible undies would work really, really well for sylphs.  OR at least, make sure if their owners lick them off, they won't get sick from it."

"That's a great idea!" she said.  She made some calls and got ahold of a decorative gels company.  Even got credit for it in her art class. 

So, we're in stores across the world, now.  Owners of male and female sylphs are all the TIME making suggestions and requests. 

We just finished an online video for how to customize bra sizes for the individual. 

You like 'em?  Well, I have to say, that's really fortunate for you.

Okay, here we are.  And I shouldn't have to say, be NICE to Lassie.  Okay?

Hi!  I'm home!  And I brought a friend.  Cleo?  Lassie?  This is little Lester.  I bought him with part of the profits.  Figured if Lassie has someone to play with, she might not get so mouthy when others play.

Oh, he's just a little shy.  Probably because he's nude and you're not.  Hey, maybe throw him in that prototype Chippendale's outfit?  I'll leave the cage door open until he comes out.