"Okay, now I'm ready."

"Finally," Daxton groaned as he lifted himself from Quincey's bed. He'd been waiting so long for her to get this new outfit ready that he feared he was going to doze off, "Hope it's worth all the... the..."

Daxton's STOP ingrained into his mind the visage of a pudgy porker a far cry from the girl next door he knew since he was three years old. Her supple, pinkish skin had burned bronze, the fiery red hair atop her head shocked pink with blonde-frosted dips, and her apparel was an oddly attractive sort of gauche. It was so... loud, with its bright colours contrasting the girl's dark skin and pale make-up around her eyes and dotting her cheeks like petals on a flower.

Designs were drawn into her flesh in black ink like she was some sort of easel - a star on one side of her poochie tummy, a yin-yang on the other. A inky thorned stem circled her bicep, dipping beneath the arm-length warmers she wore, sheathing her arms in bright stripes of pink and black. A similar design peeked out over the gaudy thigh-high socks of violet and tiger-stripe patterns tucked into yellowish socks. Piercings swung from her ears where there weren't any before, and golden bangles clicked together, two to each wrist.

Her top was a skimpy number, especially for her. It was so rare that she'd let her hanging belly out to the open air for anyone to see. The black halter hung off her shoulders and made a strangely modest accentuation to her bosom. Some sort of bright green shoulder straps hinted that she wore some kind of bra beneath - looking closely, one could see the bright colour through the black covering. But that was a nun's habit compared to the strip of fabric around her hips that was supposed to pass off as some kind of skirt. It would have better served as a frilled belt, shamelessly exposing the old-style thong underwear she wore. It was yellow, just to make sure it stood out.

She stood at her bathroom door with her hands folded behind her back. She was meek for a moment, drawing circles on the floor with her toe. But after Daxton got to look, she did a spin - her skirt flipping up to show off more of her fat haunches - and then struck a pose with her fingers held up in a careless V.

"What do you think?" She asked, her regularly subtle green eyes standing out against her pale make-up. She looked at the corgi expecting an answer.

Daxton's lips kind of flapped, but no words came out at first. The wildberry bubble gum he'd been chewing threatened more than once to fall out onto his lap. To see a girl who fancied concealing sweaters and neckties wearing something like that was so radically different that he suffered some whiplash. After untying his tongue he managed to breathe out a simple, "Whoa."

Quincey couldn't help but giggle at his response. "I found this style while looking up things for my Pre-Splice History assignment," She explained, "It's called 'ganguro' - and I hope i'm pronouncing that right - and it was apparently popular in Japan back in the 1990's. Can you believe that people over five-hundred years ago actually looked like this?"

Daxton wasn't listening to her words so much as watching her lips move. They were glossy, coloured brighter as to stand out and accentuate their natural succulence. He carried on staring in mouth-gaped awe.

"It gets more interesting," The porcine nerd-turned-floozy said, but she turned for Daxton's benefit so that he might see her back. Black angel wings were drawn over her shoulder blades that disappeared into the back of her shirt. They were only mildly as distracting as the way the fat of her butt created an attractive crease against the thickness of her thighs, creating all sorts of rolls, dips, and plunging valleys as she kept her legs together. She lifted the skirt, and as expected the yellow fabric of her underwear was utterly devoured by the rotund cheeks they were never made to cover.

"This look is apparently inspired by Japanese folklore. Ghosts and demons were depicted as having a similar appearance - so I'd think the girls who wore this sort of look in Pre-Splice Japan were doing so in order to be very different from the traditional sense of beauty that had culturally been passed down. Most women around the time were expected to be pale-skinned, have dark hair, and free of any marks or blemishes. Make-up was meant to be modest and neutral in tone, and well... as you can see, this is nothing like that," The girl continued to explain while her childhood friend's assisted gaze ate her up. She smiled over her shoulder, "I also thought you'd really like the underwear."

"You sure look like you do..." Quincey's blush burned through her darkened skin tone as she turned and fixated her eyes on the crotch of Daxton's shorts. They now housed a protrusion indicative of his admiration for her. For a moment, she stared at it, and the red of her cheeks spread across her face. When she moved, it was in slow, toe-to-heel steps to prance closer to him before she dropped down with a weighty smack into his lap. The impact made him grunt, but she caught his exhale in a sudden kiss.

Her lips tasted every bit as delicious as they'd looked, and for a bold moment her tongue viciously probed Daxton's muzzle and fished around.

When she withdrew, she sat back. She chewed and then circled her lips to blow a bubble with the gum she'd stolen from the corgi.

Normal packmates didn't kiss like that. Daxton wouldn't have been caught with his tongue half-way down Laila's throat any time soon, and Quincey wouldn't even have given Kenny a peck unless she was dared to and absolutely had no way to avoid it. Both of them knew such displays of affection were a bold statement, ones they only made in private and only in the most playful of circumstances.

"I don't know about Pre-Splice women or whatever..." Daxton said as he allowed one of his hands to squeeze and stroke along one of Quincey's lovehandles, "... But I think you make it look fantastic. If you dressed like this all the time I wouldn't even--"

"All the time? Oh god, no, noooo~" Quincey shook her upper body left and right and cupped her chubby cheeks in her hands, careful not to smudge the make-up or skin tone she'd applied.

Daxton laughed at that, not at all surprised by her reaction. "All right," He said, "It'll just be for us right now."

"... But I suppose if I did present my assignment to the class like this, I'd get extra marks," Quincey pondered.

"Yeah, people might even listen to what you say!" Daxton grinned, pinching the girl's rear to make her jump and squeal.

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Art by Norithics