Annie LVI: Shopping

(Chronological index: The very end of High School (1st time for Raymond, 2nd time for Annie))

Annie watched Raymond slice his pancake into sylph-friendly slices. She speared one with her longfork and dragged it carefully through the syrup.

Raymond braced her platter against his plate as she slid it in place, then picked up her breakfast. Her chair was next to his drink. She sat facing her owner, his parents visible at the edge of her eyesight to either side.

He paused before eating the food she left on his plate. She looked up in concern. "Not hungry?"

"What?" Mom asked.

"Annie says Raymond's not hungry," Dad said.

"He's a teen," Mom said with concern. "And he hasn't eaten in...hours. At least two."

"I'm hungry," the boy protested. "I just... I want to go to the mall, today."

"Could do," Dad nodded.

"And, I, uh, need to know...." He stumbled to a stop.

"Right foot gas, left food clutch," Annie said.

"What, and brakes left to chance?" Dad asked.

"Brakes..." Annie mused. "I've heard the concept, but he never...."

"No. No," Raymond said hurriedly. "I need to know how you buy..." He waved his hands around his chest.

"Shirts?" Mom interpreted.

"With cash," Dad said.

"Do you mean, how do you buy Annie shirts?" Mom asked. Annie glanced over to the woman and shrugged. This wasn't her idea.

"Yeah," Raymond said. "I mean, no. I mean... I want... I want to get some clothes for Annie. And some....you know... Underwear."

"Can you SAY panties?" Dad asked with a little laugh.

"Don't try," Annie said. "Why are you going to get...lingerie for me?"

"Well, you looked really nice in your dress last night. I, uh, want to see you... "

"Dressed?" Mom asked.

"Slinky?" Dad suggested.

"Covered?" Annie proposed.

"Confident," Raymond said. "And happy."

"Oooh, baby. Buy me some panties, I love you long time."

"Yeah, well, I, uh, know there are bra sizes. And, uh...numbers and letters?"

"Well, first of all," Mom said. "You need to find some privacy."

"Privacy!" Annie shrieked happily. "I like that more than panties!"

"Respect," he master nodded.

"No, it's critical that you're alone," Mom said, in the tone of a long-suffering woman. Dad snickered. "At least, if you want to get anything accomplished. You father always wants to help measure the cup size."

"Eugh!" Raymond flinched.

"And he always wants to use his-"

"Oh, GOD, Mom!" Raymond protested. "Why?"

After a bit of teasing, the parents finally stopped taking advantage of teenage sensitivity.

"It's okay," Mom finally said. "I'll take care of it."

"No," Raymond insisted, coming out of his fetal curl. "No, she's my pet. It's my responsibility. I need to learn how to keep her in the manner I want her accustomed to."

His sylph looked up at him askance at that phrasing. Is he up to something, she wondered. Or just trying to avoid committing to something.

-----

She made a dramatic exhibit out of preparing herself for his driving. She'd found an old toy motorcycle helmet under his bed and made some straps by teasing some threads from a pair of shoelaces.

He sat in the driver's seat and watched her use the rest of the shoelace to tie herself in place on the dashboard. She threw herself back and forth a bit, testing the restraints and muttering about binary braking and death wish acceleration.

Then she grabbed the grate of the defrost grille, shut her eyes and grit her teeth. "Ready, Master!" she shouted.

"Are you absolutely sure?" She nodded vigorously. "Okay." He started the car and eased out of the driveway. He'd gotten a lot better, she had to admit. Well, she didn't have to or she wouldn't be tied up like this.

But she did feel secure enough in his driving skills to talk. "What will the rules be on clothing, Master?"

"Huh?" She rolled a bit towards the front as the car slowed. When Raymond was distracted he took his foot off the gas. Dad pressed down harder. She really preferred her owner's habit, though she'd never tell him.

"Rules, Raymond. When can I wear clothes, what can I wear? Do I need to get your permission to dress? Or to choose between dress, pants, nudity or just lounging around in lingerie?"

"Well, nudity is always allowed."

"Thanks so much, master," she snarled.

"I guess... You can wear what you want in our room. I choose whether you're clothed or not outside of the house. If you have permission for clothes, you can choose what to wear."

"Wow..." she muttered.

"What?"

"I was just hoping to have a vote on panties, yes or no."

"Oh! Okay," he said with a nod. "We'll do that, then."

"NO!" she cried.

He laughed at her protests.

------

The store attached to the sylph registry had few clothing items that earned Annie's seal of approval, but they did have the underwear she needed.

A pink box with while polkadots served as a changing room. She stepped into panties and tried on a bra, then examined herself in the mirror.

For just a moment, she felt real.

There was nothing in the mirror's image to indicate her miniature size. Looking at her body in the mirror, wearing underclothes, stroking hair back behind her ears.... It was powerfully nostalgic.

Her body had matured a tiny bit since The Day, but it wasn't so striking a change that she couldn't recall standing just like this. Her bedroom mirror, various changing rooms, a locker room or two.

Annie's body turned to the side, hand half reaching for the blouse or skirt or pants that went next.

It was like being a real person with a real life. She half-smiled.

Then a giant hand dropped into sight in the mirror, just behind her. The moment was gone, she was a toy again.

"Those fit?" he asked. "Looks like they fit. Do you want to try on something else?"

"YOU just want to watch me slide silk over my butt," she accused. He shrugged. "They fit, master. Can I get..." She did quick math in her head, cost against his stated budget. "Two pair? Of each?"

"Worst case scenario," he said. "One set for each day of the week and one for laundry day."

"I don't.... She turned to look up, up, up into his eyes. "Are you going to let me go a whole week clothed?" He didn't respond. Not positive, not negative, he just looked down at her.

"Not that you don't have a right to keep me barefoot all the way up," she said quickly. "I just, well, I don't want to waste my clothing budget on this stuff if it's not going to be, well, you know, if I won't get my money's worth?"

Oh, she brought up money. He was still paying off her prom dress. The Dress. It was worth it, they'd both agreed. But he only really agreed while she was wearing it.

Now he was probably thinking about how much money he was losing, what he lost if he spent it on her. She was going to be lucky to get a Teeny T-Shirt from the vending machine at the arcade.

And that would depend on the shirt having a non-offensive slogan.

But then Raymond shrugged. "I'm probably going to ruin at least one set with barbeque sauce or hot sauce or suntan lotion. If it's your only pair you'll never let me forget it."

Her eyes widened. She covered her mouth with both hands, waiting to see if he was saying what she thought he was saying.

"So, better play it safe. Eight pair. Six from my budget, two from yours." His hand turned to cup and patiently waited for her to repose upon it. "Let's see what colors there are."

She mumbled something. He lifted her to his ear and asked her to repeat. Annie lunged from his hand to his shoulder, hugging his ear lobe and showering kisses upon it.

"You're the BEST master, Raymond! Really! Bestest and nicest, generous to a fault."

He twitched a bit as her kisses tickled his ear, but managed not to throw her to the floor as he walked to the little spinning rack of clothes.

"Well," he said, "you're my favorite fault to be generous to." She just giggled and kissed him some more. He finally realized just how happy clothing was making her. Which almost made him consider how miserable her six years of nudity must have been.

Almost. Raymond was still too teenager to reflect on a topic so sure to define him as the villain in the relationship. He just tapped the plastic tubs and softly asked, "So? All one color or eight different ones?"

-------

There was a mall across town with clothing that Annie might deign to put on her tiny form without requiring her master to float another loan.

He put his sylph and his wallet in the passenger seat as he drove towards it. "That's what we can afford to spend on clothing," he said.

She flipped it open and reached for the cash slot. A worn photograph fell out of it. "What's this?" she asked, unfolding it.

"Hey!" he protested. He reached, but he wasn't a confident-enough driver to take that much attention off the road. She easily skipped away from his hand and jumped to the floor. Then she opened her prize.

It was a picture of her, one she'd never seen. She was shown asleep on a folded towel on his study desk. She looked close. She used the contents of the desk to gage when it was taken.

"This was... This was taken that first month after you..." She skipped over captured and kidnapped and caged and pocketed for a less emotionally laden verb. "Found. Just after you found me. I didn't know you'd taken it. What, the first day? So everyone would believe you when you said you had a sylph?"

"Not quite," he muttered. The car swerved a bit. She rode it out without falling. A closer look showed that her face was a bit puffy. Was this after one of her crying jags? That first week was Hell. Mia dead, her own life as good as dead, a brat that kept poking her and making her walk around and bend and pose.

She cried herself to sleep a lot. But she saw something else. There was something in her fist. "Is that...?"

"What?"

"That's a piece of a brownie. I'm holding a brownie." Annie looked up at Raymond. "You gave me birdseed for that first week. This was after my parents... When they... Or they wouldn't..."

"Yeah," he said softly. "I was worried about you. I thought you might... I dunno, hurt yourself. Or run away. Or do...something." He cleared his throat, eyes on the road. "Or maybe you were so upset you'd wither away and die from heartbreak. I took the pic so I'd always have something to remember you."

"Aw," she cooed. She glanced down at the photo. "I notice you tastefully chose a camera angle for full nudity."

"Uh..."

"Yes, siree," she cheered. "Not an arm across a breast or a leg chastely crossed. No towel folded over me at all."

"I don't think that was conscious," hem muttered. "I just stood by the desk and took the picture. It's not like I moved the desk or stood on the window sill to get a centerfold shot."

"Maybe," she muttered. She smiled wistfully. "Those were good brownies."

"Thanks," he said.

"What?"

"That's the first thing I ever made in the kitchen that didn't involve science homework. And the first thing I cooked that didn't advise peeling the foil back from the desert."

Annie dropped to the car floor, holding leaning on the far wall and cradling the pic in her lap.

She stared but she didn't see the photo. She saw a giant kid holding a large black brick, urging his pet to climb out of the cage and see the day. She remembered thinking it was weird that he hadn't just grabbed her, but held out confection. And waited patiently, no taunting.

Come to think of it, the crust had been over-baked. But once past that, it was easy finding a mouthful her size that wasn't too awful.

She rolled a bit to the side as he braked to a stop and put the car in park. By the time he was reaching down for her, she was standing, waiting to be picked up. Her portrait was gently folded and returned to its place of honor.

------

The memory of baking past worked magic on her master. Annie hardly had to mention the cookie place and he veered over. She didn't even have time to beg.

A generous crumb and several sips from his Coke later, she rested in his hand as he walked towards the store.

"What do you want to get?" he asked.

"Clothes," she said in the tone of a math major correcting a running back. "Covering. Stuff to put on Annie's ass."

"I meant," he said, rolling his eyes, "several t-shirts or one blouse? Long pants? Short pants? What?"

"I...hadn't thought in specifics," she admitted. "Lift me up!"

He raised her like Diogenes' lantern and turned in a circle. She watched, thought and nodded. He lowered her as she waved at the crowd. "I'll have everything they're wearing."

"We have a budget," he said.

"Oh, yeah. Well, master, I'm willing to forgive you for not keeping me in the manner to which I'd like to become accustomed. Onward."

"Yes'm," he nodded.

--------

Temperature was seldom a problem for the sylph. Being in Raymond's pocket, under his jacket, against his body, she was as warm as if she was indoors.

She chose a few pairs of shorts, several sturdy T's and one short sleeved blouse. It wouldn't begin to match the power of The Dress, but she could choose how much cleavage to show at any given time.

He sneered at her first choices. "Those are girlie colors."

"I'm a girl!" She stopped turning around to show off the choices and stamped her foot.

"Small as you are, YOU are an accessory to MY outfit." He picked up her pile of alternatives and flicked through them. "Nothing I own would be set-off by having something on my shoulder in pastel."

"But if I dress to MATCH you," she protested, "I disappear against you!"

"As it should be," he said.

"If I can be of assist-" a shopgirl started to offer. They turned as one to stare her down. She flinched from their combined gaze.

"No, no," Annie assured her. "It's okay."

"Yeah," Raymond said. "We're almost finished."

She glared at young man and mouthy pet but she backed away. The two made eye contact and tried to smother giggles.

"Pink is TOO girlie for a girl that reads Lovecraft," he said. "But you'd look fantastic in the tan."

"You think?" she asked, waiting to be talked into it. He smiled and offered her shorts on one fingertip.

She ended up with a mix. Some were in bright colors for her, to stand out and draw attention to her tiny self. Others were in somber, 'macho' colors for his manly comportment, for when they went anywhere he didn't want to be perceived as wearing something fru-fru. Even if the something was his pet.

Annie had a hard time keeping a straight face every time she asked if a shirt or shorts were manly enough for her 18-year-old math-nerd of an owner.

He counted out the remaining money carefully as they returned towards the food court near where the car was parked. "I think," he muttered, "we can afford a small milkshake."

"Or a smaller sundae?" she suggested/pleaded.

"You'd dive in and stain your new clothes before Mom got to see you in them," he said with a shake of his head.

"I could go naked? Until the fudge is safely contained in carbon-based receptacles?" She stood up on his palm and stuck thumbs in the waistband of her apricot shorts.

He pretended to consider the offer. She twisted a bit to show her profile, and a healthy view of one cheek.

Then she snatched a glimpse ahead to be sure her revered master wasn't about to walk into a kiosk or something. A sundae wasn't worth being a living hood ornament for drive-by-Braille Raymond.

The area ahead was clear of obstructions, though. She sighed in relief, then giggled in glee as he aimed for the Dairy Queen.

-----

A girl from Raymond's junior year Algebra class was working behind the counter when they approached.

"Annie!" Jenna squealed. "With clothes! Oh, don't you look just adorable!" She flashed a smile up at Raymond then concentrated on the sylph.

Annie spun on the counter to show off her outfit. Jenna nodded approvingly. "So, your mean old master finally decided there was some benefit in a little mystery?"

"Very little," Annie said, sliding a finger against the lower hem of her shorts.

"Hey!" Raymond protested. "I offered long pants, she picked the shorts."

"Uh huh," Jenna said in skeptical tones. "There's no chance your interrupted breathing influenced her at all." She stood up straight and addressed the register. "And what will you be having today?"

Raymond assumed that her supervisor was in hearing and let the teasing drop. He made the order, letting his pet announce their choice of toppings. "Oh, and a glass of water, please."

Jenna paused. "You're not going to dip a tiny woman into a miserably cold tub of icewater?" she asked in a low tone.

"I just get thirsty when I eat ice cream," he protested.

"It's true," Annie defended him. "And if he did dunk me, it's his pocket I'd be dripping dry in."

Jenna nodded and finished taking their order. Then she winked at Annie. Though they'd asked and paid for a small sundae, she grabbed a large bowl and started to make it.

It's entirely too bad Raymond's not Jenna's type, Annie thought to herself. I could get used to being spoiled by her.

-----

Annie was using a candy jimmy to scoop up ice cream and toppings when Raymond grunted in surprise.

She looked up to see that he was staring across the food court. Following his gaze, she found Monique approaching them. The teen was a classmate of Raymond's. She'd transferred in at the start of their senior year.

And she'd brought Vogue. Vogue had be a model in France on The Day. Fashion models had sylphed with a measurably higher frequency than any other profession on the planet. No one knew what that meant as far as why people had shrank.

But the pet store owners had convinced everyone that it meant Fashion Sylphs were more desirable than workaday pets. Monique was constantly telling people how much her father had spent to buy Vogue.

And about how many diamond chips were in her collar, how expensive the leash was, how exclusive the cage she slept in....

They became very popular among their classmates, though Annie and Raymond were both bored with the pair by the end of September.

It hadn't helped that Monique had sniffed at Annie on meeting her, calling her 'plebian.'

"Hey, Master!" Annie had called up to her owner. "Which would you rather be? Someone who could be described as fairly mainstream, or someone that uses words like 'plebian' to put on airs."

"Hmmm," Raymond thought, rubbing his chin. "Well, since I try so hard to eschew obfuscation, I'd say that I'd have to profess a desire for the former. Seems less of an affectation, anyway."

Monique had stormed off in a huff, but not before Annie thought she saw an approving smile on Vogue's face.

Now that smile was on Monique's face as she sat down at Raymond's table. She had a tray with a salad from Green's Things.

Vogue straddled her wrist, stepping off as the tray landed. She walked a short distance from the tray towards Annie.

A platinum-plated leash kept her neck collar connected to Monique's wrist. Annie shuddered at the sight. Raymond almost never used a lead. And when he had, it was tied to her waist, not her windpipe.

"So," Monique purred, "it is not true?"

"What ain't?" Raymond asked. He tended to speak like a hick near this girl. A hick that could define plebian, though he never used the word.

"There is a terrible rumor that you are buying clothes for your sylph." She shook her wrist and the attached chain. "They are much better naked."

"She's only got nekkid so's not to get none chock-litte on her perty tee-shirts," Raymond said. He scooped up a big spoonful of the topping and offered it to Annie. She smiled and sucked up a mouthful.

"An' as fer better, she's more perty with clothes than without none. It seems counter-tootive, Ah know, but there you go." He shrugged and offered the spoonful to Vogue.

The older sylph looked hungrily at the treat, but shook her head and stepped backwards.

"Vogue is on a diet," Monique said. She fished a single flake of shredded carrot out of her salad and offered it to her pet. Vogue took it in both hands and nibbled at it.

"Now THAT is an affectation," Annie said derisively.

"How's that?" Raymond egged her on.

"Well, sylphs don't need to diet!" Annie protested. "Metabolisms are too high. Eating a proportional amount of food to you, that would be a diet for me!"

She hooked a thumb over at Monique. "Shiny britches here just wants everyone to see how much control she has over her toy."

"Ah'll allow as to how you may have the right of it," Raymond drawled. "Thet there leash and collar, same thing."

"I just don't want her to run away!" Monique replied. "Since she cost nearly-"

"Good God in Heaven," Raymond said to the ceiling. He'd dropped any accent. "I will consider reconsidering my atheism if You would please, please, keep her from ever mentioning the price tag again."

"You're just jealous," she hissed.

"I admit," Raymond said, "I did not spend thousands of dollars- I did not get my daddy to spend thousands on Annie." His smile spread widely. "I caught her in the wild on my own."

Monique fumed. After she had dismissed Raymond and his pet, she'd learned that they had a certain amount of popularity based on that fact.

Sylphing had been relatively rare on The Day. Being able to claim a catch, to invoke the 'finders keepers' law, had a cachet completely apart from a sylph's market value.

Beneath their locked gazes, Annie slipped a jimmy to Vogue. She smiled in gratitude and wolfed it down.

"Besides," Raymond said, reaching out to pat Annie on the head. "Even you had to dress Vogue for the prom."

"No, I did not," Monique said. "I had to cover her." She stroked a fingernail against her sylph's butt. The tiny woman quivered at the touch. "We dripped sealing wax over the bits that Principal found so offensive."

"Eugh!" Annie coughed. She looked sympathetically at the other sylph, but Vogue smiled. Annie took a step back, away from that expression.

"It's quite okay," Monique said, stroking her nail a bit harder against the butt. "Vogue likes it." Vogue nodded with a dreamy smile. Annie backed further away.

"Now if you'll excuse us?" Monique twitched the leash and Vogue turned to scamper back onto her wrist. "I have to go punish my pet for the sugar treat your pet slipped her."

Vogue was smiling and squirming on the wrist. Annie thought she might just barf.

"There's a match made in hell," Raymond muttered as they watched Monique walk away.

"You'd never drip sealing wax on my widdle body, would you, master?" Annie asked.

"Certainly not for a fashion statement," he said. He poked at the last bit of the sundae. "You done?"

"God, yes," she replied. He fished her clothing out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"I can get dressed in your pocket, Raymond," she said, sitting down on his palm.

"But I can't watch you very easily," he replied. She smiled and took up her panties. She poked both toes through and leaned back, pulling the garment slowly over her calves and thighs.

He stared down at her with a half-grin. It blossomed suddenly into a full smile. "What?" she asked.

"I dunno," he said. "Do they make pastel colored sealing wax? I may have to revisit my stance on fashion-"

"She squealed," Annie said, "promising herself that she'd make the bastard pay later, possibly while he was sleeping."

He laughed and slipped her and her remaining attire into his shirt pocket.



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