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  1. Your home
  2. A Frilly Little Girl Party Dress
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Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Action/Adventure · #1917440
Waking up after a party can be embarrassing.
This choice: Your home  •  Go Back...
Chapter #3

Your home

    by: Tight Fit Author IconMail Icon
You look around the room and realize you’re in your bedroom You quickly start getting off the bed, and find it’s a bit more difficult to stand when you’re fighting through a maze of crinoline and skirt. After a brief struggle you manage to get to your feet and stumble around on your Mary Janes, trying to maintain balance. You make your way over to your closet mirror and have a look at yourself, your made up eyes going wide in shock as you assess what’s been done to you while you were passed out. Not only were you dressed up in a puffy frilly dress, your face had been done up with an immaculate doll-like makeover. Huge fake eyelashes swooped up from your eyes, and your eyebrows were plucked and shaped into cute arches atop your light blue eyeshadow. Your cheeks had a generous amount of blush applied to them, and your lips have lipstick applied in a cute little cupids bow shape. Also, your short dark hair was now blonde and in two huge thick pigtails on either side of your head, bouncing and swaying with your every movement.

Not wanting to be in this getup for a second longer, you immediately begin reaching behind you, trying to find a zipper. You fumble and twist awkwardly, the big crinoline swishing and swaying against your legs, turning your face a brighter shade of red underneath your thick makeup. Where the zipper should have been was nothing but smooth fabric. You fumble around your waist, pulling the bow this way and that, trying to see if the dress zipped off from the side. Alas, there is no zipper there either, and after a bit more swishing and stumbling you come to the uncomfortable realization that the dress was sewn shut. You grit your teeth in frustration and try pulling the dress over your head, but it’s far too tight and doesn’t budge from your body. You yank and pull hard on the sleeves hoping to rip them, but the dress is very well constructed and refuses to pop a single stitch. The huge pigtails send jolts of pain through your scalp as you pull on them, discovering that you weren’t wearing a wig; you had hair extensions attached to your hair with a glue strong enough to keep them from being pulled out. Even your shoes stay firm on your feet, the buckles are fused shut with adhesive.

You take another look at yourself in the mirror and groan with disgust, and decide to...
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