The beach stretched out before them, endless and golden, the waves whispering secrets to the shore. Emily—no, she had to even think of herself as Bunny—stood barefoot in the sand, the warm grains curling between her toes as the sun kissed her bronzed skin. She could feel the soft hum of Bikini Week’s energy in the air, pulsing through her like a second heartbeat. 

Blaine stood a few feet away, his chiseled figure silhouetted against the setting sun. His cocky grin and sapphire-blue eyes seemed to see through her, cutting straight to the part of her that didn’t know whether she wanted to fight this place or give herself over to it entirely.

She wasn’t sure which part of her spoke first. “Blaine,” she began, her voice low and velvety, “if we’re going to save this beach, we can’t just do another dumb single event.”

He turned to her, his arms crossed over his broad chest, every muscle flexing in the golden light. “Yeah? What’s your big idea, Bunny?”

The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine.  Bunny tilted her head, letting her glossy hair cascade over one shoulder, and sauntered toward him. Her hips swayed with each step, the rhythm as natural as the tide.

“We’ve gotta go big,” she said, her voice syrupy-sweet but laced with an edge of determination. “Like, ultimate-big. Blow-their-minds big.”

Blaine’s grin widened, and he leaned casually against a lifeguard stand. “I’m listening.”

There was a pay phone near her and she picked it up without thinking, the sleek plastic cool against her palm. Bunny’s red-tipped nails tapped at the push buttons as she dialed a random number, her glossy lips curving into a mischievous smile.

“Who are you calling?” Blaine asked, watching her with interest.

“I don’t think it matters?” Bunny replied, winking as she brought the phone to her ear. It rang twice before someone picked up.

“Hello?” a confused voice answered on the other end.

“Hi, gorgeous!” Bunny purred, her voice dripping with saccharine charm. “It’s Bunny!  The soon to be queen of this here beach and I need your team to start putting together The Bikini Car Wash Roller Disco Coconut Oil Slip ‘N Slide Sexy Mud Wrestling Aerobics / Breakdancing Boombox Battle BBQ Muscle Surfing Tug-of-War Jet Ski Racing Wet-Tshirt Contest of Liberation  ” Bunny chirped, winking at Blaine again. “Just spread the word, sugar. This beach is about to have the wildest event it’s ever seen.”  She hung up with a smile.  

“Babe…” Blaine said with a twinkle in his eye.  

Her gold bangles jingled as she raised her hands, gesturing animatedly. “Think about it!  All those silly little contests we’ve been doing? Car wash, wet T-shirt, dance-off... cute, but a waste of time doing them one by one. So …” She stepped closer, trailing a finger down his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin. “We do them all at once!”

Blaine arched a brow, intrigued but skeptical. “All at once?”

“Yes!” Bunny’s eyes gleamed with an unrestrained, almost feverish excitement. She stepped forward, gesturing dramatically as the vision poured out of her. “Picture it—a sprawling, neon-lit, multi-tiered floating carnival! On the water, we’ve got the Coconut Oil Slip ’N Slide Mud Wrestling Gauntlet, spiraling down into the biggest mud pit this beach has ever seen.”

Her voice rose with enthusiasm, her arms sweeping wide. “Above that? The Jet Ski Wet T-Shirt Relay, jets of foam and water blasting contestants as they race around, dripping wet and wild. And right in the middle of it all, we’ll have the ultimate centerpiece—a spinning aerobics-breakdancing stage, surrounded by BBQ pits sending up clouds of smoke and flame!”

She twirled on her heel, pointing upward. “Above that? A Bikini Car Wash Roller Disco Dash, with skaters spinning through foam jets while holding boomboxes blasting the hottest beats of the decade. The whole thing glows in the dark, so you can’t miss it.”

Her grin turned wicked as she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a seductive purr. “And at the very top? The grand finale: a Muscle BBQ Tug-of-War Surf-Off on a greased grill, where the winners slide straight into the Wet T-Shirt Glow Dance Finale. Fog, lasers, and soaked bikinis lighting up the night. It’s going to be a spectacle they’ll never forget!”

Her chest rose and fell, her energy infectious as she spun back toward Blaine, her fishnets shimmering in the light. “What do you think? Is it big enough? Sexy enough? Crazy enough to win everything? You’re not afraid of a little crazy, are you?”

He smirked, his gaze drifting to her lips. “Never.”

For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them. Bunny could feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his presence wrapped around her like the sun itself. She knew she had him hooked, but she needed to go further. She needed to be Bunny, more than ever before, to win him over completely—and to carry out her plan.

She hung up without waiting for a response, tossing the phone back into the sand. Blaine was grinning now, his sapphire eyes gleaming with approval.

“You’re out of your mind, Bunny,” he said, stepping closer.

She tilted her chin up, her smile playful. “And you love it.”

Before she could react, his hands were on her—large, strong, and unapologetically possessive. He pulled her against him, his fingers sliding over her hips and up to her waist, exploring the curve of her body like he owned it. Her breath hitched as his grip tightened, sending a jolt of heat through her.

Blaine’s hand slid down her back, his fingers grazing the curve of her ass. His touch sent a shiver through her, and Bunny let out a soft, involuntary moan. “Big ideas,” he murmured, his voice dropping low, “You sure you’re Bunny?”

Her mind stuttered. Her heart raced. His words echoed in her mind, both thrilling and terrifying. Be more Bunny than Bunny. Could she do that? Could she let go of Emily completely, even for a moment?  The thought sent a pang through her, but it was quickly swallowed by the rush of his touch. She tilted her head up, her lips brushing his ear. “If you’ve got doubts, Blaine, I’ll prove it to you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his hands tightening on her hips.

She bent forward slightly, her movements slow and deliberate, giving him a tantalizing view of her ass. Then she stood, turning back to face him, her body fully on display. Her confidence was electric, her pose daring.

Blaine stepped closer, his hands finding her hips again. He pulled her against him, his cock pressing hot and hard between her ass cheeks. “You’re something else,” he murmured, his lips brushing her neck. 

Blaine’s hands tightened on Bunny’s hips, his fingers digging into her flesh with a dominance that made her gasp. Her body, clad in nothing but the scandalous outfit he’d picked for her, pressed firmly against his. His cock, impossibly hard, was wedged snugly between the plush, warm globes of her ass, straining against the thin fabric of his board shorts. The sensation sent an electric thrill racing through him, and his lips brushed the curve of her neck.

“You’re driving me insane, Bunny,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, a low growl in his chest. His breath was hot against her skin, his hands sliding down to her waist before gripping her hips again. Slowly, deliberately, he began to grind against her, the length of his shaft sliding up and down between her cheeks.

Bunny let out a breathy moan, arching her back to press herself even closer to him. Her glossy lips curved into a playful smile, and she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes half-lidded and glinting with mischief. “Like that, big guy?” she purred, her voice dripping with syrupy sweetness.

“More than you know,” Blaine muttered, his jaw tightening as he pushed against her, his cock sliding along the smooth, golden curves of her ass. The friction was maddeningly good, her skin soft and slick from the lingering coconut oil.

She laughed, the sound light and teasing, but her breath hitched when she felt his cock throb against her through his shorts. Her own arousal was mounting, and her body responded instinctively, her hips rolling back to meet his movements. The feeling of his raw heat pressing against her sent a pulse of need straight to her core.

But she couldn’t let him enter her.. Not yet.

“Uh-uh,” she murmured, her tone coy as she reached back, her manicured fingers brushing over the ridges of his abs before slipping lower. Her hand found the base of his cock, gripping him firmly through his shorts. Blaine groaned, the sound rough and guttural, and Bunny giggled softly. “Not until the big event . . . the narrative demands it be then.”

“Bunny,” Blaine growled, his voice thick with frustration as he ground against her harder, the slide of her ass around his cock nearly making him lose control. “You’re killing me here.”

Her hand slid up his length, her nails scraping lightly over the fabric, sending jolts of pleasure through him. Then she tugged his shorts down just enough to free him, his massive, throbbing cock springing free and pressing hotly between her cheeks.

Bunny’s eyes widened at the sheer size of him, her cheeks flushing. “God, Blaine,” she murmured, feigning mock disapproval as her other hand slid back to cup one of her ass cheeks, spreading herself slightly to cradle him even tighter. “Do you always bring this much to the beach?”

“Always,” he said, his voice a rumble as he began to thrust, his cock sliding between her cheeks in slow, deliberate movements. The sensation was exquisite, her warm, soft flesh enveloping him completely.

Bunny bit her lip, her free hand reaching back to grip him firmly, guiding him as he moved. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, her palm slick with his pre-cum as she stroked him, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Each slide of his cock sent waves of pleasure through her, her own arousal building with each pass.

Blaine’s hands roamed her body, one sliding up to cup her breast, squeezing the supple flesh through her barely-there top. His other hand gripped her hip, holding her steady as he rocked against her, his cock gliding against her ass with increasing intensity.

“Goddamn, Bunny,” he muttered, his voice strained. His hips jerked forward, his cock throbbing in her grasp. “I need to be inside you. Right now.”

She tilted her head back, her hair cascading down her back as she moaned, her fingers tightening around him. “Not yet, Blaine,” she whispered, her voice trembling with effort. “You have to wait. Big rewards come later, remember?”

He growled in frustration, his fingers digging into her hips as he thrust harder, the slick sound of his cock sliding against her ass filling the air. Bunny’s breath quickened, her own body responding to the friction and the heat of his desire.

“Come on, Bunny,” Blaine pleaded, his voice low and desperate. “Let me have you. Just a taste.”

She smirked, glancing over her shoulder with a wicked glint in her eye. “No can do, big guy,” she teased, her hand sliding down to cup his balls, squeezing gently. “You’ll just have to settle for this.”

Her words pushed him over the edge. Blaine’s movements became erratic, his cock pulsing against her ass as his breath hitched. With a low, guttural groan, he came, his release hot and thick, spilling onto her golden skin. Bunny gasped, the warmth of him igniting her own arousal even further.

Blaine’s grip on her tightened as he rode out his climax, his chest heaving. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin as he muttered, “You’re gonna be the death of me, Bunny.”

She laughed softly, her fingers sliding over the mess on her skin. “You’re welcome,” she said, her voice dripping with playful satisfaction.

Before he could recover fully, Bunny spun around, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the beach. “Come on,” she said, her grin infectious. “We’ve got a beach to save!”

 –

As they rounded the bend of the beach, Bunny’s breath caught in her throat. There, glimmering on the ocean like a mirage of neon dreams, was the floating carnival. It wasn’t just a structure—it was an entire universe of excess, decadence, and sheer hedonistic delight, bobbing gently on the water.

The carnival was a multi-tiered masterpiece of 1980s absurdity, a fluorescent fever dream brought to life. Strings of glowing lights in every color imaginable crisscrossed the air above it, pulsating in sync with the thumping beat of retro synth-pop that seemed to emanate from the very boards of the floating platform. The air was thick with the scent of sizzling barbecue, coconut oil, and the faint tang of saltwater, mingling into an intoxicating cocktail of aromas.

Bunny’s eyes widened, her lips parting as she took in the scene before her. The base of the carnival, just above the waterline, was a sprawling, neon-lit Slip ‘N Slide that spiraled down into the sea like a technicolor water snake. The track glistened with coconut oil under the spotlights, making it look like a slippery ribbon of liquid gold. Contestants at the top hurled themselves onto the slide with wild abandon, their laughter echoing as they raced down in a blur of wet, shiny bodies. The slide fed directly into a massive mud pit, where bikini-clad figures were locked in muddy embraces, their bodies glistening under strategically placed lights that made the mud shimmer like molten chocolate.

Above the mud pit, a colossal roller disco glittered like a spinning jewel. The arena was a kaleidoscope of reflective surfaces, disco balls casting fragmented rainbows over the skaters who whirled and spun through jets of soapy foam. The skaters were scantily clad, their bikinis soaked and clinging to every curve as they balanced oversized boomboxes blasting thumping beats. The foam overflowed, cascading down the edges of the disco and spilling onto the Slip ‘N Slide below, making it even slicker.

As Bunny’s gaze traveled upward, she spotted the spinning aerobics-breakdancing stage at the heart of the carnival. It was a massive rotating platform surrounded by flaming barbecue pits, the heat of the fire creating a shimmering haze that danced in the air. Contestants performed high-energy routines, their bodies glistening with sweat as they transitioned seamlessly from aerobics moves to gravity-defying breakdancing. Each spin of the platform sent sparks flying from the BBQ pits, the firelight catching on the sequins and neon of the dancers’ outfits. Smoke machines belched out plumes of aromatic BBQ smoke, the scent mingling with the tang of sweat and sea air.

The next level was a labyrinthine jet ski course that twisted around the edges of the carnival, its track illuminated by strings of glowing pink and blue lights. Riders zipped through the course, dodging high-powered water cannons that drenched them in jets of icy water. Each splash sent their wet T-shirts clinging tighter to their torsos, leaving little to the imagination. Bunny could see figures wiping out spectacularly, their jet skis careening into the water, only to emerge laughing and soaked as they were swept onto the next event.

And then, towering above it all, was the pièce de résistance: the Muscle BBQ Tug-of-War Surf-Off. A massive, greased-up grill sat suspended over the entire structure, smoke rising in billowing waves as contestants battled with a tug-of-war rope. The losing team would be dragged onto the grill itself, forced to surf their way across the sizzling surface while balancing plates of BBQ ribs and executing ridiculous tricks. The surfboards themselves were neon-painted masterpieces, glowing under the blacklights that framed the stage. Bunny giggled as she watched one contestant lose their balance, sliding across the greased surface in an explosion of BBQ sauce and laughter.

The very top of the carnival was shrouded in fog, the Body Shot Lap Dance Stripper Pole Glow Dance Finale taking place on a glowing, fog-filled dance floor. Contestants, dripping wet from the events below, twirled and gyrated in a spectacle of laser lights and pounding beats. The fog machines spilled their thick, luminous clouds downward, adding an otherworldly glow to the entire carnival. The lasers cut through the haze, illuminating every wet bikini, every bead of sweat, every neon-painted body in startling detail.

It was chaos. It was lust. It was everything that Bikini Week was supposed to be.

Bunny’s heart pounded in her chest as she took it all in. Her body buzzed with a thrill that wasn’t just anticipation—it was longing. She felt herself moving closer to Blaine, her fingers twitching at her sides, aching to grab his hand and drag him into the fray.

“This is... insane,” she breathed, her voice trembling with excitement. “It’s—God, Blaine, it’s perfect.”

He smirked, his eyes raking over her with a possessiveness that made her shiver. “You ready to show this beach who’s boss, Bunny?”

She turned to him, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “Are you kidding? I was made for this.”

The words felt right in her mouth, more natural than any she’d spoken as Emily. This wasn’t just a carnival—it was a baptism. Each level, each event, was a step closer to something she couldn’t quite name, but her body and Bunny knew exactly what it was.

As Blaine grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the Slip ‘N Slide’s starting platform, Bunny couldn’t stop herself from laughing, a bright, exhilarated sound.

“Let’s do this,” she said, her voice loud and confident, the doubts that had plagued her as Emily dissolving into the glow of neon and the roar of the crowd. Bunny was ready.

—

Bunny stood at the edge of the surfboard, her toes curling over its slick, neon-painted surface as the gentle waves lapped at the shore. Behind her, Blaine grinned, his muscles rippling as he pushed the board deeper into the water, guiding it like a master of the seas. The carnival glimmered in the distance, a wild, electrifying beacon that called to them both, its pulsating neon lights reflecting in the gentle ripples of the ocean.

She turned back to him, her long hair whipping in the breeze, the golden rays of the setting sun catching the glint of her barely-there outfit. The skimpy number Blaine had picked out for her earlier—a thong bikini bottom in blazing gold and a strappy top that left nothing to the imagination—shimmered as if alive, hugging her curves so tightly that it was more suggestion than clothing.

“Ready, babe?” Blaine asked, his deep, cocky voice dripping with amusement. His sapphire eyes glinted with mischief as they roamed over her body, lingering on her pert ass. “This is your shot to show them who owns this beach.”

Bunny swallowed, excitement and nerves bubbling in equal measure. The distant music from the carnival seemed to sync with her pounding heart, the rhythm thrumming in her veins. She placed a hand on her hip, jutting it out provocatively as she shot Blaine a smirk. “You think they’re ready for me?”

“Oh, they will be,” Blaine said, his tone darkening just enough to send a shiver down her spine. “But first—there’s a little initiation.”

Her brow arched, and she tilted her head in curiosity, the sunlight catching the gloss on her lips. “Initiation?”

Blaine’s grin widened, and he stepped onto the board with her, his towering frame close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His hands landed firmly on her hips, making her breath hitch.

“The judges,” he said, his fingers sliding lower to grip the thin straps of her bikini bottom, “need to know you’re willing to do whatever it takes to win.”

Bunny’s cheeks flushed hot, but a thrill raced through her, drowning out the tiny voice of Emily somewhere in the back of her mind. “And how do they know that?”

Blaine leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he growled, “By taking it like a champ, Bunny. That’s how.”

Before she could react, his hands yanked upward, the thin fabric of her bikini bottom slicing between her cheeks in one swift, powerful motion. Bunny let out a breathy gasp, her hands flying to Blaine’s shoulders to steady herself as the wedgie lifted her slightly off the board.

“Blaine!” she squealed, her voice half protest, half arousal, as the golden fabric dug deep, baring even more of her luscious curves. The sensation was sharp, embarrassing, and electrifying all at once. She squirmed in his grip, but Blaine only grinned, pulling the straps higher until they pressed into the curve of her spine.

The bikini bottom was stretched to its absolute limit, the fabric taut and shimmering, highlighting every inch of her perfect ass. Bunny’s legs trembled, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as she felt herself being utterly exposed.

“You like that?” Blaine taunted, his voice thick with amusement and desire. He pulled the straps even tighter, the fabric digging into her folds, making her gasp again. “This is what it takes to be a winner, Bunny. You gonna quit now?”

Bunny bit her lip, her body trembling with a mixture of humiliation and undeniable arousal. She shook her head, her voice breathless but firm. “No. I’ll... I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Good girl,” Blaine murmured, his hands sliding lower to cup her ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He gave her a playful slap, the sound cracking like a whip over the water. Bunny yelped, her back arching instinctively as the sting sent a jolt of heat through her.

He spanked her again, harder this time, and Bunny moaned softly, her nails digging into his shoulders. Each smack sent her reeling, the line between pleasure and pain blurring in a way that made her thighs clench with need.

“Now they’ll know you’re serious,” Blaine said, his voice a low growl as he gave her one final, lingering squeeze before releasing her. He stepped back, admiring his handiwork as Bunny stood there, panting and flushed, her bikini bottom riding high, the fabric stretched so tight it seemed painted on.

She shot him a sultry glare over her shoulder, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“You’re not?” he challenged, his grin widening as he stepped off the board, letting it drift into the shallow waves. “Get going, Bunny. They’re waiting.”

With a flick of her hair and a saucy wink, Bunny turned and stepped onto the board. Her hips swayed as she adjusted her stance, the sun glinting off her bronzed skin and the shimmering gold of her bikini. The sensation of the wedgie was maddening, the fabric clinging to her in ways that made her hyper-aware of every inch of her body. But instead of shrinking away, she embraced it. That’s what Bunny would do and she needed to be more Bunny than Bunny, after all.

The waves rolled in beneath her, and Bunny crouched low, balancing expertly on the surfboard as Blaine gave her a final push. The board glided smoothly over the water, the salty spray cool against her skin as she rode the gentle swells toward the carnival. The closer she got, the louder the music became, the thumping bass syncing perfectly with her racing heartbeat.

The carnival loomed larger with each passing second, its neon lights reflecting off the surface of the water in a dazzling display. Bunny grinned, her excitement building as she spotted the Slip ‘N Slide spiraling down into the mud pit. Contestants were already gathering at the top, their laughter and cheers echoing over the waves.

Bunny adjusted her stance, her fingers brushing over the straps of her bikini bottom as she prepared to make her entrance. Her confidence surged, and as she neared the edge of the carnival platform, she couldn’t help but shout, “Bunny’s here, bitches! Let’s do this!”

The crowd erupted in cheers and whistles, and Bunny leaped from the surfboard onto the platform, landing gracefully despite the wobble of her legs. She sauntered toward the start of the Slip ‘N Slide, her hips swaying, her golden thong still riding high and glinting in the lights. The judges gave her approving nods, and Bunny felt a rush of satisfaction.

She was ready. She was here. And she was going to win.

Bunny crouched at the top of the Slip ’N Slide, her fingers grazing the edge of the glitter-slicked surface. Coconut oil shimmered in the neon lights, mingling with endless specks of glitter that sparkled like a galaxy under the strobe beams. It smelled like sunscreen and excess, and she loved it.

“Alright, Bunny!” one of the announcers yelled into his microphone, his voice booming over the thumping bass of the carnival music. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”

Bunny giggled, tossing her hair over her shoulder and giving the crowd an exaggerated wave. Her ass wiggled just enough to draw a round of cheers, the golden thong riding so high it was practically a second spine. She lowered herself onto the slide, feeling the slick coconut oil against her skin as her knees dug into the surface.

“Here goes nothing!” she chirped, her voice bubbly and pitched higher than Emily would’ve ever dared. But Emily was miles away, lost in the fog of this neon wonderland.

She pushed off, but instead of zooming forward, she slid a pathetic six inches before coming to a halt, her thighs squeaking against the oily surface. “Oh my gawd,” Bunny whined, wiggling her hips in a vain attempt to get moving. “I’m stuck!”

From the sidelines, Blaine’s laughter rang out, rich and deep. “Looks like you need a hand, babe.”

Bunny turned her head to see him striding toward her, shirtless, his golden skin gleaming with a light sheen of sweat. Her breath hitched as her eyes trailed over his rippling abs, the sharp cut of his V-line disappearing into his board shorts. He was a walking wet dream, and Bunny didn’t even try to hide the way her gaze lingered.

“Don’t just stand there lookin’ hot!” she pouted, playfully tossing a handful of glitter toward him. “Help meeee!”

Blaine crouched beside her, his hand brushing her thigh as he gave her an exaggerated once-over. “Babe, you’re a work of art. But this slide’s about to make you a masterpiece.”

He reached down, gripping her hips firmly, his fingers digging into the slick, glittery skin. Bunny gasped, her voice coming out breathy and high-pitched. “Blaine! What are you—”

“Just helping you out, Bunny,” he said with a smirk, giving her a shove that sent her squealing forward. The force of his push made her thong tighten even more, the golden fabric disappearing entirely between her cheeks. The sting of the wedgie and the exhilaration of the slide combined into an overwhelming rush that left her giggling uncontrollably.

The crowd erupted in cheers as Bunny sped down the slide, the oil and glitter clinging to her body like a second skin. When she hit the first turn, the slide sent her into a spin, and by the time she reached the bottom, she was a shimmering, sparkling vision. Her ass caught the lights perfectly, and when she stood up, Blaine—now standing at the edge of the pit—shielded his eyes dramatically.

“Damn, babe!” he called out, his grin wide. “You’re blinding me!”

Bunny struck a pose, planting a hand on her hip and throwing him a wink. “Like what you see, big guy?”

“Oh, you know I do,” Blaine said, walking toward her. “But you’re missing something.”

Before she could ask what, Blaine produced a bottle of coconut oil, holding it up like a prize. “You can’t wrestle like that,” he teased. “But I’m feeling a little dry so oil me up first.”

The crowd roared its approval, and Bunny couldn’t resist the pull of their energy. She strutted toward Blaine, snatching the bottle from his hand with a playful roll of her eyes. “Anything for my beach king,” she purred, her fingers already unscrewing the cap.

She poured a generous amount of oil into her hands, letting the excess drip dramatically down her arms as she stepped closer. Blaine spread his arms wide, his chest bare and inviting. Bunny placed her palms flat against his pecs, the slick oil making her hands glide effortlessly over his muscles. She worked her way down, her hands exploring every ridge of his abs, her fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary.

“You’re gonna be the best-oiled guy out there,” Bunny said, her voice teasing but filled with genuine awe at his physique. Her hands dipped lower, skimming the waistband of his shorts before pulling away with a mischievous giggle.

“Your turn,” Blaine said, his voice low and rough. Before Bunny could react, he grabbed the bottle and upended it over her chest, the cool oil drenching her skin. She gasped, laughing as the slick liquid rolled down her body, making her golden bikini shimmer even brighter.

“You’re such a bad boy!” Bunny squealed, spinning around to give him a playful smack on the chest. But her giggles turned into a breathy moan as Blaine leaned in, his hands sliding over her waist and squeezing her hips.

“Bad boys win,” Blaine murmured, his lips brushing her ear before giving her a light smack on the ass. “Now go win this thing, Bunny.”

With a final shove, Blaine sent her sliding forward once more, the coconut oil and glitter making her glide effortlessly. She hit the bottom with a splash, landing squarely in the mud pit. The crowd’s cheers grew louder as Bunny sat up, her hair plastered to her face, her body covered in a mix of oil, glitter, and mud.

But instead of feeling embarrassed, Bunny threw her arms in the air, laughing wildly. “Let’s get dirty!” she shouted, her voice bubbly and uninhibited.

From the lifeguard tower, Chad, Tad, Rad, and Lad watched the scene unfold with a mix of disgust and determination. Chad, the self-appointed leader of their obnoxiously tanned squad, leaned on the railing, his jaw tightening as he glared at Bunny.

“She’s ruining everything,” Chad said, his voice dripping with contempt. “This beach used to be ours.”

“Yeah,” Tad chimed in, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. “Now it’s all glitter and... and coconut oil!”

“Not to mention Blaine,” Rad added, crossing his arms over his chest. “Dude’s acting like he owns the place.”

Lad, the quietest of the group, finally spoke up. “We have to stop them.”

Chad grinned, his pearly whites gleaming in the sun. “Damn right we do. And I’ve got a plan.”

The four of them huddled together, their voices low as they plotted their next move, the neon glow of the carnival reflecting off their mirrored shades. Their mission was clear: take Blaine down and reclaim their rightful place as the kings of Bikini Week.

—--

The mud pit stretched out before Bunny like a glistening battlefield, the rich, slick muck catching the neon lights from above. The cheers of the crowd echoed around her, a cacophony of catcalls, whistles, and laughter as the contestants, a gaggle of scantily clad women in neon bikinis and fishnets, began sizing each other up. Some looked as daunted as Emily might have—others, like seasoned veterans, grinned with salacious confidence.

Bunny pushed herself up from where she’d landed, her hands sinking into the soft, warm mud. The ooze squished between her fingers and over her thighs, clinging to her skin like a lover’s caress. She felt ridiculous, but something about the scene ignited a flicker of excitement deep in her belly. The crowd was raucous, their enthusiasm feeding into her growing sense of abandon.

Across the pit, a red-haired bombshell in a fluorescent pink bikini winked at her, tossing her hair back. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” the girl drawled, her voice dripping with faux innocence. “It’s all for the guys. They eat this stuff up.”

Bunny laughed nervously, brushing her mud-slicked hair out of her face. “Yeah… for the guys,” she echoed, her voice uncertain.

But as the referee—a bronzed, shirtless hunk in tiny shorts—blew his whistle, the energy shifted. Bunny’s hesitation melted as the other women lunged, their laughter and mock aggression transforming the mud pit into a playground of chaos and flesh.

A busty blonde tackled Bunny from the side, her arms wrapping around her waist as they both went tumbling into the muck. Bunny squealed, the sound high-pitched and girlish, as the mud sloshed up around them.

“Sorry, babe,” the blonde said, giggling as she pinned Bunny down. “Gotta look good for my boyfriend over there!” She jerked her head toward the crowd, where a group of sunburned dudes hooted and hollered. But her hands lingered just a bit too long on Bunny’s shoulders, her fingers digging into the slick mud-coated flesh in a way that sent a jolt of unexpected heat through Bunny’s chest.

“This is insane,” Bunny murmured under her breath, squirming beneath the blonde. But as she looked up at the woman, who was grinning with more than just competitive spirit, Bunny felt a pang of something unfamiliar. Was this fun?

The thought was interrupted by another contestant—a petite brunette with a wicked smile—who dove into the fray, grabbing the blonde and rolling her off Bunny. The three of them became a tangle of limbs, the mud making every movement slippery and unpredictable.

From the edge of the pit, Blaine leaned casually against the ropes, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the chaos unfold. His eyes were locked on Bunny, his lips curving into that cocky, knowing grin that made her stomach flip. “Damn, babe,” he called out, his voice carrying easily over the crowd. “You’re making dirt look good.”

Bunny froze for a moment, her cheeks burning. The compliment hit her like a bolt of lightning, equal parts flattery and humiliation. She wanted to crawl out of the mud and smack him—or maybe kiss him. It was hard to tell.

—-

High above the mud pit, the Chads—Chad, Tad, Rad, and Lad—watched the chaos unfold from their perch on a rickety lifeguard tower. Each of them was dripping in neon sweatbands, oversized sunglasses, and a level of misguided confidence that could only come from peak Chad energy.

“Alright, bros,” Chad said, his jaw jutting out as he adjusted his visor. “If we’re gonna take down Bunny and her muscle-bound beach god, we gotta blend in.”

“How do we blend in?” Tad asked, scratching his perfectly coiffed head.

Chad smirked, whipping out a duffel bag stuffed with absurdly girly outfits. “We dress like babes, bro. No one’ll see it coming.”

Rad peered into the bag, pulling out a neon pink bikini top. “Is this… lace? Dude, my pecs can’t breathe in this.”

“Shut up, Rad,” Chad snapped. “This is our shot at glory. We beat Bunny in the mud pit, and everyone will see we’re the real kings of Bikini Week.”

Lad held up a pair of glittery stilettos, his expression dubious. “Uh, bro? These don’t look aerodynamic.”

Chad rolled his eyes. “It’s not about speed, Lad. It’s about style. Now suit up.”

Moments later, the four of them emerged from the shadows, strutting awkwardly toward the mud pit in their mismatched, hyper-feminine disguises. Chad wore a sparkling purple halter top that barely covered his abs, while Tad had squeezed into a polka-dot one-piece that made his shoulders look like a linebacker’s. Rad’s fishnet stockings were already torn, and Lad teetered dangerously on his stilettos, clutching a feather boa like a lifeline.

The crowd erupted into laughter, their cheers turning into a mix of catcalls and hoots as the Chads struck their best “sexy” poses.

“Yo, Bunny!” Chad called out in a falsetto voice that sounded more like a chipmunk on helium. “Mind if we join in?”

Bunny, still catching her breath, turned to see the quartet clambering awkwardly into the pit. Her jaw dropped. “What… the hell?”

Chad winked, blowing her a kiss. “We’re here to wrestle, babe.”

Before Bunny could respond, Blaine stepped into the pit with the calm authority of a lion entering its den. His chest glistened under the lights, his arms flexing as he crossed them over his broad chest.

“Alright,” Blaine said, his voice low and deadly. “Which one of you clowns wants to go first?”

The Chads exchanged nervous glances, their bravado faltering. But Chad, ever the leader, puffed out his chest and pointed a manicured finger at Blaine. “Don’t get in our way, bro. This is between us and the babe.”

Blaine smirked, his eyes narrowing. “Nah. You want to play? You play with me.”

In a flash, Blaine lunged forward, grabbing Chad by the feathered wig and yanking it off his head. “Nice hair,” Blaine drawled, before tossing Chad like a sack of potatoes into the nearest puddle of mud.

“Yo, not cool, bro!” Rad shouted, charging at Blaine with all the finesse of a drunken giraffe. Blaine sidestepped easily, catching Rad by the waistband of his sequined shorts and lifting him off the ground. With a grunt of effort, Blaine spun Rad around like a discus and hurled him into Tad, sending both of them crashing into the ropes.

Lad, still teetering on his stilettos, raised his feather boa like a weapon. “Stay back, dude! I’ve got… uh… feathers!”

Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Feathers?” He stepped forward, grabbing Lad by the boa and pulling him off his feet. With a single motion, he whipped Lad around and sent him flying into the mud pit, where he landed with a spectacular splash.

The crowd was in hysterics, chanting Blaine’s name as he dusted off his hands and turned back to Bunny. “You good, babe?”

Bunny stared at him, her glittering, mud-slicked body trembling with laughter. “You’re insane,” she said, shaking her head.

“Yeah,” Blaine replied, his cocky grin returning. “But you love it.”

In the pit, the Chads groaned collectively, their disguises ruined and their egos thoroughly bruised. Chad wiped mud from his face, glaring up at Blaine. “This isn’t over, bro!” he shouted, shaking a muddy fist.

Blaine laughed, slinging an arm around Bunny’s shoulders as he led her away. “Yeah, yeah. Go wash off, Barbie squad.”

As the couple disappeared into the next stage of the carnival, the Chads scrambled out of the pit, muttering about revenge and trying to salvage what was left of their dignity.

—

“Focus, Bunny!” Emily whispered to herself.  “You want to win, right?”

The gears in Emily’s mind turned. Did she want to win? Emily wouldn’t. Emily would have slunk out of the pit, mortified and covered in mud. But Bunny? Bunny was starting to enjoy the feel of the mud on her skin, the way it made every movement sensual and exaggerated. She was starting to enjoy the attention, the cheers, the raw thrill of it all.

The brunette grinned, her hands sliding down Bunny’s sides as if to help her up—but instead, she tugged hard, sending Bunny spinning into another contestant. The impact knocked them both into the muck, their bodies sliding together in a tangle of limbs and laughter. The crowd roared with approval.

“Alright,” Bunny muttered, her lips curling into a determined smile. “Let’s do this.”

As the wrestling continued, Bunny found herself fully immersed in the chaos. She laughed as a buxom redhead accidentally slipped, crashing face-first into the mud. She yelped when the blonde from earlier tried to grab her by the ankle, only to end up pulling herself face-first into Bunny’s thighs instead.

Then came the moment that turned the tide: one of the contestants—an Amazonian brunette with legs that went on forever—grabbed a bucket of glitter from the edge of the pit and hurled it straight into the fray. Bunny ducked instinctively, but the glitter exploded around her like a neon bomb, coating her mud-slicked body in a dazzling, shimmering layer of sparkle.

The crowd went wild, chanting her name—“Bunny! Bunny! Bunny!”—as she stood there, glistening like a disco ball in the carnival lights. She turned to Blaine, who looked like he was two seconds away from climbing into the pit himself.

“Babe,” he said, shaking his head, “you’re unreal.”

Bunny grinned, grabbing the Amazonian brunette by the wrist and spinning her into the mud with a loud splash. The two of them wrestled playfully, their movements so exaggerated it was practically a choreographed routine. Bunny twisted, the mud coating her body, her fishnet bodysuit tearing in several places until it was barely clinging to her curves.  With one final, dramatic spin, Bunny managed to send the brunette flying out of the pit and into a stack of inflatable beach balls. 

Panting and laughing, Bunny stood in the center of the pit, her hands on her hips, mud streaking her skin like war paint. Her fishnet bodysuit hung in tatters, clinging to her curves in shreds, each movement pulling it further apart. The slick, gritty sensation of mud against her bare flesh sent a strange thrill through her, making her feel untamed, unstoppable. For the first time, she caught her reflection in a puddle beside her.

It wasn’t Emily staring back. It was Bunny—mud-slicked, glitter-dusted, and glowing with a raw, radiant confidence she’d never felt before.

“Winner!” the announcer bellowed, holding up a cheap plastic trophy shaped like a bikini top. But before she could step forward to grab it, the crowd parted, and Blaine appeared, his chiseled form cutting through the chaos like a golden god. His broad shoulders gleamed under the sun, and his cocky smirk sent a shiver down her spine. In his hands, he held a garment so tiny it looked like a joke—a slingshot bikini in eye-popping neon pink and gold, shimmering with a metallic sheen that caught the light like a beacon.

“Here,” he said, his voice rough and low, filled with an unspoken challenge. He held the bikini out to her, his sapphire eyes locked on hers. “You earned it.”

Bunny stared at the scraps of fabric, her breath hitching. The bikini was ridiculous, almost obscene. The top consisted of two narrow triangles, lined with sparkling gold thread, connected by the thinnest strings imaginable. The bottoms—if they could even be called that—were a high-cut thong with slingshot straps that rose dramatically over the hips, the neon fabric barely wide enough to cover her most intimate parts. The entire thing seemed designed to showcase, not conceal.

She hesitated, her fingers trembling as she reached out to take it. The crowd cheered wildly, and Blaine’s smirk widened. “What’s the matter, babe?” he teased. “Too much for you?”

Her heart raced as she looked up at him, then back at the bikini. Something inside her shifted—a spark of defiance, a thrill of possibility. “Not at all,” she said, her voice breathy but confident.

Turning her back to the crowd, Bunny slipped out of the last remnants of her fishnet bodysuit, the mud cooling against her exposed skin as she peeled it off. The bikini’s fabric felt smooth and slippery in her hands, and she started with the top, tying the delicate gold strings behind her neck and back. The triangles barely covered her nipples, leaving the curve of her breasts fully exposed. The tightness of the fabric pressed against her, lifting and shaping her chest in a way that made her gasp softly.

Next, she stepped into the thong bottoms, sliding them up her thighs. The high-cut straps hugged her hips, the neon pink fabric gleaming against her bronzed skin. She adjusted the slingshot straps over her shoulders, feeling the elastic pull taut against her body. The fabric nestled snugly between her cheeks, the sensation both strange and intoxicating. She gave a little wiggle, feeling the thong settle into place, and glanced down at herself.

The bikini was absurd, outrageously sexy, and completely impractical—and it made her feel unstoppable.

When she turned to face Blaine and the crowd, the reaction was instantaneous. Whistles, cheers, and catcalls erupted, and Bunny couldn’t help but smile. The slingshot bikini caught the sun, the metallic gold threads glinting like a spotlight on her body. She struck a pose, her hands on her hips, her chest thrust forward, and the crowd roared louder.

Blaine stepped closer, his gaze raking over her with unabashed hunger. “Damn, babe,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “You’re a walking fantasy.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she tilted her chin up, meeting his gaze with a smirk. “Good,” she replied, her voice dripping with newfound confidence. “Because I plan to win this thing.”

Blaine walked alongside her, his bronzed chest still shimmering with oil and his chiseled jaw set in that cocky smirk that drove her wild. When they reached the staging area for the Bikini Car Wash Boombox Disco Dash, a hose dangled nearby and  Blaine grabbed the nozzle and leveled it at her.

“Hold still, babe,” he said, his voice dripping with authority.

Before she could protest, a blast of cold water hit her square in the chest. Bunny shrieked, her laughter bubbling up uncontrollably as the water soaked her, plastering the thin fabric of her bikini against her skin and made her nipples poke out even harder, if that was possible. The cold spray sent shivers down her spine, and the crowd around them roared with approval, their voices blending with the upbeat disco music pumping through the speakers.

“Blaine!” she giggled, squirming under the relentless spray. “You’re getting me all wet!”

“Well I do love a wet girl,” he shot back, his grin widening. He stepped closer, the nozzle still trained on her as he hosed her down, the water running in rivulets over her glistening skin. Her bikini top shifted precariously, the tiny triangles of fabric barely covering her now. Blaine didn’t hesitate, reaching out with one hand to adjust the straps, his fingers manhandling her breasts back into the tiny top.  

“There,” he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. His blue eyes swept over her, taking in every curve, every glimmering inch of her. “Perfect.”

Bunny’s cheeks flushed, her lips parting slightly as she soaked in his praise. She glanced down at herself, her body practically glowing in the afternoon sunlight. For a moment, she caught her reflection in a nearby puddle, the slick, sexy vision staring back at her almost unrecognizable as Emily, but very recognizable as Bunny.  She let out a soft, breathy laugh, her chest rising and falling as she turned to face the glittering roller disco ahead.

The Bikini Car Wash Boombox Disco Dash was everything Bunny had dreamed of and more. The arena was a neon-lit masterpiece, a giant circular track that sparkled with foam and suds. Jets of water and soap shot into the air at random intervals, drenching everything and everyone in sight. The center of the track was a spinning disco ball the size of a small car, casting rainbow patterns over the chaos below.

Contestants were required to roller skate through the foamy chaos while carrying oversized boomboxes blaring dance tracks. The goal? Stay upright, keep dancing, washing cars, and rack up style points from the panel of judges—three shirtless men in gold lamé pants and aviators who sat perched on lifeguard chairs.

Each contestant was already coated in foam and water, their outfits clinging to their bodies as they prepared for the chaos to come. The roller disco arena gleamed like a fever dream of 1980s decadence—three stories of neon chaos, pulsating beats, and enough soap bubbles to drown a small town.  Emily eyed her competition:

• Trixie Tumbleweed, a platinum blonde bombshell with a bikini made entirely of sequins and a pair of roller skates that lit up with every movement. Her boombox blasted “Physical” by Olivia Newton-John, and she twirled her pigtails like they were weapons.
• Candy Crush, a voluptuous redhead with a penchant for dramatic flair. She wore a fringed bikini that swayed with every step, and her boombox had been bedazzled with rhinestones spelling out “CRUSH IT.”
• Misty Mayhem, a punk rocker with a mohawk dyed in neon green. Her leather bikini and spiked bracelets clashed gloriously with the sudsy aesthetic, and her boombox pumped out gritty, bass-heavy tracks that made the speakers shake.
• Darla Delight, a sweet-faced brunette in a pastel bikini and heart-shaped sunglasses. Her boombox played sugary pop tunes, and she twirled a pair of pink pom-poms as she skated in place.

The whistle blew, and chaos erupted.

Bunny launched forward, her wheels catching the slick foam-coated floor. Jets of bubbles exploded around her like tiny soap volcanoes, and she wobbled precariously, her free arm flailing for balance. Ahead of her, Trixie Tumbleweed performed a flawless spin, her sequined bikini flashing under the neon lights, while Candy Crush swung her hips to the beat, her rhinestone-encrusted boombox flashing like a disco ball.

The foam machines whirred louder, blasting a thick cloud of suds directly into Bunny’s path. She skated blindly, her vision obscured, her breath catching as the cool bubbles kissed her skin. It was like skating through her own thoughts—confusing, disorienting, and so slippery she wasn’t sure she’d ever find footing again.

“Stay upright, Bunny!” she muttered to herself, her skates sliding dangerously close to the edge of the track.

Then she hit the Wardrobe Malfunction Zone.

A massive jet of foam exploded from the floor, catching Bunny mid-stride. Her bikini top, already barely holding on, snapped free with an audible ping, the fabric vanishing into the frothy abyss. The crowd erupted in cheers as Bunny stumbled, clutching her boombox tighter to her chest to cover her now-bare breasts.

“Keep going, babe!” Blaine’s voice boomed from the sidelines, his laughter rich and unmistakably proud.

Bunny’s cheeks burned, but her embarrassment was quickly overtaken by the thrill of the moment. She let out a wild giggle, shaking her suds-covered hair as she pressed forward, her skates slicing through the foam.

And then—disaster.

Her skate hit a rogue sponge, and she toppled backward, her arms pinwheeling before she crashed to the floor. The crowd’s collective gasp was drowned out by the announcer’s gleeful shout:

“Uh-oh! Bunny’s headed to the Hot Wax Zone!”

Two attendants in barely-there bikinis appeared almost instantly, their hands gripping Bunny under her arms as they hoisted her to her feet. “You know the rules,” one purred, her voice sultry and teasing. “If you fall, you’ve gotta get waxed.”

Bunny barely had time to protest as they guided her to a platform bathed in pink light. A chair awaited her, reclined and suspiciously inviting, and before she could think, she was seated. Her legs were spread slightly apart, her position both necessary for balance and unavoidably provocative.

The attendants moved with practiced ease, their hands sliding warm, soapy wax over her thighs, her mound, her every curve. The sensation was startling—slick and sensual, the heat of the wax contrasting deliciously with the cool foam that still clung to her skin. Bunny let out an involuntary gasp as one attendant smoothed the wax down, her fingers grazing Bunny’s inner thighs.

“Relax, babe,” the second attendant cooed, her grin wicked. “This’ll have you looking—and feeling—smooth as silk.”

Bunny’s breath hitched as the first strip was applied, the pressure firm but not unpleasant. The attendant winked at her before yanking it free with a quick, deft motion. A sharp sting bloomed across Bunny’s skin, followed immediately by a rush of heat that made her toes curl in her skates.

“Oh!” Bunny moaned softly, her voice high-pitched and breathless. The crowd roared their approval, their cheers mingling with the pulsing bass of the music. Blaine’s whistle cut through the noise, and Bunny glanced over to see him leaning against the railing, his grin as wide as the ocean.

“Looking good, babe!” he called, his voice dripping with pride and possessiveness. “You’re stealing the show.”

Another strip was applied, this time lower, the wax molding to her most intimate areas. Bunny bit her lip, her body trembling as the attendants worked with meticulous care. Each pull left her skin bare and gleaming, the sensation both shocking and oddly arousing. By the time they finished, Bunny was completely smooth, her pussy glistening under the neon lights like a forbidden treasure.  Quite a change from the 80’s bush she had been packing this whole time.  

The attendants stepped back, admiring their handiwork before helping Bunny to her feet. She wobbled slightly, her skates unsteady, but the rush of adrenaline carried her forward. Her body felt lighter, freer, as if shedding her last physical barrier had somehow unlocked a new level of confidence.

“You’re ready now,” one of the attendants said, her eyes sparkling. “Go get ‘em, Bunny.”

Bunny skated back onto the track, her naked breasts bouncing freely, her freshly waxed skin catching the light like polished gold. The crowd’s cheers surged to a deafening crescendo, and Bunny’s lips curved into a wicked smile.  They liked her!  They really liked her!

 –

The crowd at the Bikini Car Wash Boombox Disco Dash was at a fever pitch, a swirling vortex of neon lights, pounding music, and foam that flew in every direction. Bunny skated ahead, her gleaming skin catching the light as her dolphin-shaped boombox blasted out "Girls Just Want to Have Fun." She was glowing, her smile radiant, but staying upright was a precarious battle as jets of foam erupted around her.

Blaine skated behind her, his bronzed chest and shoulders flexing with each effortless glide. He didn’t just skate—he prowled, owning the rink with every step. His movements were smooth, confident, and commanding, a sharp contrast to the chaos around him.

When Bunny stumbled on a rogue sponge, Blaine was there in an instant, his strong hands gripping her waist to steady her. “Keep your head up, babe,” he said, his voice firm yet dripping with smug assurance. “You’re not here to lose—you’re here to be worshipped.”

Bunny’s cheeks flushed, and she straightened her posture, a shiver running through her as his hands lingered on her hips. His words, as condescending as they might have been, sent a thrill through her that she couldn’t ignore.

“Thanks, big guy,” she murmured breathlessly, her heart racing as she pushed forward again.

But trouble was brewing.

The Chads—Chad, Tad, Rad, and Lad—were lurking near the foam machine controls, their heads poking comically above the edge of a nearby booth. They were dressed in ill-fitting maintenance uniforms, complete with fake mustaches and oversized hats.

“Alright, bros,” Chad whispered, his mustache slipping off slightly as he spoke. “Operation Bunny Wipeout is a go. Let’s crank this baby up!”

Tad gave him a thumbs-up, Rad cackled, and Lad struggled to figure out how to actually turn the knobs on the machine. Finally, with a dramatic twist, they sent the foam machines into overdrive.

Jets of foam exploded onto the rink, creating a tsunami of suds that quickly engulfed the skaters. Bunny squealed as the bubbles rose around her, obscuring her vision and making the floor even slicker. She wobbled dangerously, her arms flailing for balance.

“Blaine!” she called out, her voice high-pitched and panicked.

Blaine turned sharply, his sapphire-blue eyes narrowing as he spotted the source of the chaos. He skated toward Bunny, cutting through the foam like a predator through water. He grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him.

“You’re fine,” he said, his tone commanding as he steadied her. His hand slid possessively to her waist. “Just hold onto me.”

But his attention quickly shifted to the Chads, who were laughing maniacally at their supposed success. Unfortunately for them, their victory was short-lived.

The foam surged back toward the machine, creating a slick path that caught them all off guard. One by one, they slipped and fell, their limbs flailing as they were launched into the Wardrobe Malfunction Zone.

Chad’s hat flew off as he landed in a foam geyser, his fake mustache plastered to his forehead. Tad and Rad collided mid-air, their uniforms shredding comically as they slid across the floor. Lad, bringing up the rear, somehow managed to lose every piece of his disguise, ending up in nothing but a strategically placed foam bubble.

The crowd erupted in laughter as the Chads scrambled to their feet, their sabotage attempt having spectacularly backfired.

Blaine smirked, his grip on Bunny tightening as he turned to address the crowd. “Looks like someone forgot this rink’s for winners,” he announced, his voice booming with authority.

The crowd cheered, and Blaine’s smirk deepened as he glanced down at Bunny. “You see that, babe? That’s what happens when you try to mess with my girl.”

Bunny’s breath hitched, her heart pounding as she looked up at him. The way he said my girl sent a jolt of something electric through her, a mix of pride, arousal, and a growing sense that she was exactly where she belonged.

With a flick of his wrist, Blaine spun Bunny toward the center of the rink. “Now go show them how it’s done,” he said, giving her a playful but firm slap on the ass that sent her skating forward.

The crowd went wild as Bunny glided back into the chaos, her determination renewed. Blaine crossed his arms, his chiseled frame practically glowing under the neon lights as he watched her go.

Behind him, the Chads attempted to slink away, only for Blaine to step directly into their path.

“You boys lost?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Chad, his mustache still hanging from one ear, tried to stammer out an excuse, but Blaine just grabbed them by the collars and one after the next threw them out the window. The crowd laughed and cheered as Blaine turned back to the action, his attention once again on Bunny, who was skating with renewed confidence and a dazzling, sudsy smile.

Bunny’s boombox, shaped like a glittering dolphin, blared Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” as she rolled back onto the rink. Foam and neon lights swirled around her, the crowd’s cheers rising to a deafening crescendo. The judges sat on elevated thrones, their bodies glistening under the rotating beams of the massive disco ball.

Each contestant skated with wild abandon, contorting themselves into lewd poses, grinding against the foam-soaked cars parked at the edges of the rink, or dropping into splits so low their skimpy bikinis barely stayed intact even as they tried to wash cars.  . The judges ate it up, their hands slapping onto oversized scoreboards to flash perfect tens whenever someone managed a particularly slutty move.

Bunny wobbled as she skated, her long legs gliding awkwardly over the slick surface. Her mind was a mess of conflicting emotions. This is insane. You’re not like this. You’re not Bunny. You’re—

Her wheels hit a particularly sudsy patch, and she nearly lost her balance. Desperate to steady herself, she grabbed onto a foam-covered hood of a car and bent forward, her ass jutting out high in the air.

The crowd roared.

One of the judges—a Herculean man with flowing blond hair—nearly fell out of his seat, frantically slamming his scorecard to flash an 11.

Bunny gasped, whipping her head around to see what had caused the reaction. Her cheeks flamed as she realized her precarious position, the neon lights catching the shimmering oil that clung to the round curve of her ass. She scrambled upright, trying to play it off, but the movement caused her dolphin-shaped boombox to swing around and catch on her bikini top.

With a loud snap, the thin strings broke, and the fabric flew into the foam, disappearing like a sunken ship.

The crowd went ballistic, their cheers reverberating off the walls.

Bunny’s hands flew to her chest, covering herself as she skated to a stop near Blaine, who stood at the edge of the rink, arms crossed and smirking.

“Babe,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mock concern, “you’re killing it out there. Don’t stop now.”

“I can’t—” she stammered, her cheeks blazing.

“Can’t what?” he asked, his grin widening. “Be Bunny? I thought that was who you were.”

Her heart thudded in her chest, and she turned back to the rink, her bare breasts gleaming in the foam-soaked light. The other contestants were still grinding, thrusting, and twerking for the judges, but the crowd’s eyes were on her.

Her instincts screamed at her to run, to cover herself, to hide. But another voice—a softer, more insistent one—whispered, They love you.

She took a tentative step forward, the wheels of her skates crunching over the foam. The judges leaned forward, their gazes hungry.

Emily bit her lip, her hands still clutched over her chest. She moved awkwardly, trying to skate without drawing too much attention, but every attempt to minimize herself only made her movements more exaggerated.

When she tried to slide around a puddle, her leg extended in a high kick that went so high her bikini bottoms snapped, showing off her freshly shaved pussy.  A camera flash went off, one of the judges fanned herself dramatically before flashing a perfect 10, and the crowd went wild.  

“I—!” Bunny tried to protest, but the foam jets shot up around her, sending her spinning. She flailed her arms for balance and ended up dropping into a split, her bare breasts bouncing as she hit the ground.

The crowd lost their minds.

Blaine let out a low whistle from the sidelines. “Damn, babe, you’ve got natural talent.”

Bunny scrambled upright, her hands flying to her hair, which had fallen loose in the chaos. She clutched at the foam-covered strands, trying to look composed, but the movement only accentuated the slick, bouncy curves of her body.

The judges were practically drooling.

The tension in her chest eased slightly as the cheers washed over her. They’re eating it up. You’re winning.

One of the other contestants, Candy Crush, skated by with a mock pout. “Damn, girl, leave some attention for the rest of us.”

Bunny blushed, but the corners of her lips tugged upward into a sly smile. If they wanted a show, she’d give them a show.

Throwing caution to the wind, she grabbed the nearest foam-covered sponge and wrung it out over her chest, the water cascading down her bare skin. She threw her head back, laughing breathlessly, her body swaying to the music.

The judges leapt to their feet, slamming their scorecards down in unison.

As Bunny skated past the Wardrobe Malfunction Zone, the foam machines cranked up again, blasting her with a wave of suds that tore apart the remaining scraps of clothing.

Bunny’s hands instinctively flew to cover herself, but Blaine’s voice cut through the noise.

“Keep your hands up, Bunny!” he called out, his tone both commanding and teasing. “You’re not here to hide—you’re here to shine.”

The crowd’s cheers became deafening, their energy surging through her like a current.

She lowered her hands.

Bunny threw her arms above her head, her naked body gleaming under the lights as she glided to the center of the rink. She spun slowly, foam and glitter clinging to her curves, her movements graceful and unapologetic.

The crowd roared their approval, chanting her name.

“BUNNY! BUNNY! BUNNY!”

The neon lights pulsed like a heartbeat as Bunny glided to the side of the rink, her shimmering, naked body covered in suds and glitter, leaving her competition in varying states of foam-drenched humiliation behind her.

Trixie Tumbleweed started strong, her sequined bikini sparkling like a disco ball as she twirled and posed atop a cherry-red Corvette. Her light-up roller skates cast a dazzling trail as she leaned down to soap the hood in perfect rhythm to “Physical” blaring from her rhinestone-studded boombox.

But Trixie underestimated the slippery combination of foam and soap. As she bent over to scrub the windshield, her skates slipped out from under her, sending her sprawling onto the hood. The crowd erupted in laughter as her sequins snagged on the windshield wiper, yanking her top free with a loud snap. Trixie shrieked, flailing as she tried to cover herself, only to slip again and tumble into the foam, vanishing in a cascade of suds.

Candy Crush’s Crushed Confidence
Candy Crush brought drama to the rink, her fringed bikini swaying hypnotically as she strutted with exaggerated flair. Her sultry moves had the crowd eating out of her hand, and her bedazzled boombox glittered like a jewel.

But Candy’s confidence faltered when her foot caught in a sudsy puddle, sending her sprawling backward into a car wash bucket. The bucket tipped, dumping soapy water over her head and completely drenching her. She struggled to regain her footing, but the weight of the water-soaked fringe only made it worse. As she slipped and skidded, her bikini bottoms caught on a low-hanging mirror, snapping free and leaving her to cover herself with nothing but a strategically placed sponge.

Misty Mayhem’s Punk Rock Flop
Misty Mayhem’s rebellious energy electrified the arena as she ground her spiked bracelets against a foam-covered motorcycle. Her neon-green mohawk glowed under the lights, and the heavy bass from her boombox had the judges tapping their toes.

But Misty’s punk-rock flair came at a cost. As she attempted a daring move—vaulting over a foamy car hood—her leather bikini bottoms snagged on the antenna, leaving her dangling in mid-air. The crowd roared as Misty flailed, the antenna eventually snapping and sending her plummeting into the foam with a loud splash. She emerged moments later, clutching the tattered remains of her bikini and looking more embarrassed than defiant.

Darla Delight’s Sweet Defeat
Darla Delight charmed everyone with her sugary demeanor and pastel bikini. Her pom-poms twirled in perfect harmony with the bubblegum pop blasting from her boombox. She danced her way through the foam, her heart-shaped sunglasses staying firmly in place.

But as Darla reached to scrub the side of a gleaming convertible, the foam jets erupted around her, sending her sliding uncontrollably across the rink. She collided with a foam-covered bumper, her pom-poms flying into the air as her bikini top slipped off mid-spin. The crowd cheered wildly as Darla scrambled to retrieve her modesty, her face as pink as her outfit.

The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. “And now, it’s time for the Slippery Limbo Challenge! Let’s see just how low our contestants can go while scrubbing those cars clean!”

Bunny stood at the limbo line, her chest heaving as she watched the glowing neon limbo bar lower to an impossibly provocative height. Around her, the other contestants shuffled nervously, their boomboxes held tightly against their soapy bodies. Foam and glitter sparkled under the spinning disco ball, creating an atmosphere of decadent chaos.

The crowd roared as the first contestant stepped forward. Trixie, still reeling from her earlier mishap, attempted to skate under the bar but lost her balance halfway through, landing in a pile of foam. The judges held up a series of zeroes, their golden pants glinting mockingly in the neon light.

Candy Crush managed to limbo under the first bar, her fringed bikini swaying dangerously. But when the bar lowered again, her balance gave out, and she tumbled into a nearby sponge bucket, her face turning crimson as the crowd jeered.

Misty Mayhem’s punk-rock confidence carried her through the first two rounds, but the third was her undoing. Her attempt to power-slide under the bar ended with her boombox slipping from her hands and smacking her square in the face. The audience erupted in laughter as she threw her hands up in frustration.

Darla Delight fared no better. Her pom-poms tangled in her skates, sending her sprawling onto the foam-covered track. One of the judges held up a sign reading Nice Try, drawing more laughter from the crowd.

Finally, it was Bunny’s turn.

Blaine skated up beside her, his smirk equal parts pride and mischief. “You’ve got this, babe,” he murmured, his hands sliding to her hips. “Just go low and make it sexy.”

Bunny giggled, her glossy lips curving into a playful smile. “I’ll do my best, big guy.”

She bent forward, her long legs gliding gracefully under the first bar. The foam clung to her oiled-up body, accentuating every curve as she arched her back and held her boombox high. The crowd erupted in cheers as she emerged on the other side, her bare breasts bouncing freely.

The bar lowered again, and Bunny dropped into a deeper crouch, her ass sticking out as she maneuvered under it. Blaine whistled appreciatively from the sidelines. “Damn, babe, you’re making this look easy.”

As the bar lowered to an almost impossibly suggestive height, Bunny hesitated. She wobbled slightly, her skates threatening to betray her balance. Blaine skated up behind her, his hands gripping her waist.

“You’re almost there,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Just let me help.”

Before she could protest, he pushed her hips down firmly, forcing her into an impossibly deep arch. Her body trembled under the pressure, her freshly waxed pussy glistening under the neon lights as she slid under the bar. The crowd’s cheers reached a fever pitch as Bunny emerged triumphant, her legs trembling but her smile radiant.

She straightened slowly, the foam dripping from her body as she turned to face the crowd. “Did I win?” she asked breathlessly, her voice high-pitched and girlish.

The announcer’s voice boomed again. “And the winner is… Bunny!”

The crowd erupted into a chant. “BUNNY! BUNNY! BUNNY!”

Blaine skated over, scooping her into his arms as the foam swirled around them. “Damn right you did,” he said, his lips brushing her ear. “I told you babe, You’re not here to lose—you’re here to be worshipped!”

Bunny giggled, her glossy lips brushing against Blaine’s neck as he held her aloft, her gleaming body a trophy for the crowd to worship. Their cheers rolled over her like waves, warm and intoxicating, but as her laughter faded, something unfamiliar stirred deep in her chest. It was a small, faint flicker of something that didn’t belong in the bright, glittering world she’d slid into.

She glanced down at herself—completely nude, every inch of her glistening with foam, glitter, and oil. Her body was an artwork of sensual chaos, a canvas for the indulgence of the spectacle. The crowd cheered louder, their chants of "BUNNY! BUNNY!" reverberating like a drumbeat of approval.

But that flicker—the tiniest ember of shame—refused to be extinguished. Is this really me? a voice whispered. Faint, but unmistakable.

Her cheeks flushed, the burn of embarrassment battling against the rush of adoration. She wriggled in Blaine’s arms, trying to pull her legs up to cover herself, but the movement only made the foam slide sensuously over her skin, drawing another roar from the crowd.

Blaine chuckled, his voice deep and rich, the sound dripping with amusement and possession. “What are you doing, babe?” he asked, his lips brushing her ear. “That’s not very Bunny of you.”

Bunny’s heart stuttered, and for a moment, she froze, caught between Emily’s mortification and Bunny’s instinct to revel in the attention. “I just…” she stammered, her voice faltering. “I mean, I’m completely… I’m not wearing…”

Her words tangled in her throat as Blaine lowered her slightly, his firm hands sliding along her waist. His blue eyes met hers, piercing and unyielding. “Yeah, you’re not wearing anything,” he said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “And you look hot as hell.”

The crowd’s chant grew louder, their energy surging like a tidal wave. Bunny’s body tingled under the weight of their gaze, her nipples pebbling as the cool foam clung to her curves.

She glanced around frantically, searching for something—anything—to cover herself with. Her eyes landed on a discarded sponge, still dripping with foam. She lunged for it, grabbing it awkwardly and pressing it against her chest.

The sponge was woefully insufficient. Its soft, dripping surface barely covered one breast, leaving the other entirely exposed. Blaine’s laughter rumbled in her ears as he steadied her, his hands squeezing her hips.

“Really, babe?” he said, his tone teasing but firm. “You think that’s gonna work?”

Bunny’s cheeks burned hotter, and her hands fumbled to grab another sponge. But Blaine’s fingers curled around her wrists, stopping her.

“Stop hiding,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “That’s not who you are anymore.”

Her breath hitched as his words sank in. The crowd’s cheers thundered around them, the air thick with foam and adoration. She wanted to argue, to push back against his assertion. That’s not who I am, she wanted to say. That’s not who I want to be.

But the words didn’t come.

Instead, a different thought surfaced—a compromise, a way to hold on to the crowd’s love without fully surrendering herself to this surreal, glittering world. She tilted her head, her voice trembling with effort. “Maybe… maybe I just need another swimsuit,” she said, her tone laced with a playful giggle that surprised even her. “Like the last one you gave me.”

Blaine raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “You mean the one you looked like a goddess in?”

“Yeah,” Bunny said quickly, clutching at the hope. “But, uh… sluttier.”

The crowd howled with approval, and Blaine’s grin turned wolfish. “Sluttier, huh?” he drawled, his eyes raking over her glistening form. “I like the way you think, babe.”

He glanced to the sidelines, where one of the event organizers—a man in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses—was holding a rack of spare costumes. Blaine jerked his chin toward it. “Wait here.”

Bunny stood frozen as Blaine sauntered off, his bronzed, oil-slicked body moving with the confidence of a man who owned the world. The crowd’s eyes stayed locked on her, their cheers and whistles relentless.

She shifted uncomfortably, her hands twitching at her sides. But then her gaze caught her reflection in a nearby puddle. The woman staring back at her wasn’t Emily. She wasn’t shy or self-conscious. She was a glittering, glowing, untouchable vision of sensuality. She was Bunny.

And as Blaine returned, holding up the most outrageously high-cut slingshot bikini she’d ever seen—neon pink with rhinestone accents and straps so thin they were practically floss—Bunny felt a thrill rush through her.

“Perfect,” Blaine said, holding it out to her with a smirk. “Let’s get you back in the game, babe.”

Bunny took the bikini, her fingers trembling slightly. She hesitated for only a moment before slipping it on, the fabric hugging her curves like a second skin. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices blending into a single, overwhelming roar of approval.

She straightened her shoulders, her lips curving into a confident smile. “Let’s do this,” she said, her voice higher and bubblier than before.