Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Chapter 4
“Let’s see here — corset, check — baby doll, check — cat ears, check — I think we have everything. But for old time’s sake, lets start with the maid outfit, why don’t we?”
“Oh no”, Motoko said adamantly. “There is no way you’re dressing me in any such lewd and undignified getup!”
“I was afraid you might say that”, Kistune chuckled to herself, “So I came prepared. Suu?”
Suu held up a bag. Tama flew out.
“T — T — T — TURTLE!”
Motoko screamed as Tama flew after her, chasing her around the room.
“Get it away from me! Aack! No!”, she shouted, when Tama landed on her neck, and began crawling down the back of her kimono. Motoko twitched to one side — then the other — then tore her kimono open, and flung it in the corner. The tricky terrapin emerged from the rumpled up kimono, dazed for a moment, but he quickly shook himself off, and resumed his pursuit, this time landing on her foot.
“He’s crawling up my — mmfh! Argh! AIIIIEEE!”
“You don’t think I overdid the part with Tama, do you?”, Kitsune asked.
Motoko screamed in the background.
Suu shook her head.
Motoko kicked her leg wildly, making her red hakama pants flare and billow, but this failed to shake off the tenacious terrapin. Finally, in desperation, she tore open the laces of her hakama, and yanked them down, past her knees, to the floor.
“Motoko!”, Kistune laughed. “I’ve never seen anybody’s pants come off so fast before. What exactly is it that you practice when you’re off on those retreats? Are you sure they’re not just a cover for some secret rendevous?”
Motoko eyed the wadded up hakama pants nervously. Slowly, Tama crawled out of the waistband.
Motoko pressed herself into the corner, looking around desperately for some place to hide. But there was no escape.
The turtle leered.
The samurai girl cringed.
The turtle lunged —
“Gotcha! Keitaro said, snatching Tama out of the air in mid-flight. “Have you been making trouble again?”
“Myuh–myuh”, Tama said innocently.
Keitaro handed him back to Suu, who was duly impressed.
“That was the special turtle grab technique! You must have been studying with Seta again!”, she said.
“Or Naru”, Kitsune chuckled.
“Oh Keitaro!”, Motoko called out, forgetting for the moment that she hated him, and that she was in her underwear. She ran to him, and embraced him in gratitude.
“This is the time that Naru usually walks in”, Keitaro thought to himself. “Oh no! I have to get her away from me before Naru sees us. “Mmfh! Motoko, I –”, he said, trying to break free, but the more he moved around, the more aware he was of Motoko’s body pressed against him.
“So — soft –”
Just then Naru walked in.
« Naru! »
“What the hell are you doing to Motoko!?”, she shouted, punching Keitaro, sending him flying. “Motoko, are you all right?”
“It was awful!”, Motoko said. “I’m probably going to need years of therapy to recover from this. For now, I’d just like my . . . clothes?”
Motoko looked just in time to see Suu stuffing her kimono and hakama into her bag.
“Give that back this instant!”
“Nu-uh!”, Kitsune scolded, holding up the hangers with the lingerie on them. “Not until you uphold your end of the bargain. You’ll get your clothes back after you’ve picked out an outfit to wear.”
“We never made any such bargain!”
Suu held up Tama. Motoko flapped her arms wildly.
“Do we have a deal now?”
“Fine, you win.”
Kitsune and Naru stood outside while Motoko changed. While they were waiting, Naru’s eyes were drawn to a swimsuit hanging in the corner.
“Mmm, I miss Pararakelse”, Naru thought to herself. The weather had been getting cold of late, and the thought of tropical beaches made her lose herself for a moment in dreamy reflection. “He may be a dork”, Naru thought. “But Keitaro does look good with a tan.” And on the beach, with the warm sand, and crashing waves, it was only natural for her to wear a swim suit. So if Keitaro did happen to look — not that she WANTED him to, or anything, but if he did happen to see her — in a string bikini — maybe that was okay too —
“Hey Naru, maybe you should get something fun to wear for Keitaro while you’re here?”
“What? Me? That pervert? No way! It’s not like that! We’re just friends — I don’t see him that way!”
“Oh really?” Kitsune pried. “Then you won’t mind if I try to snag him for myself, will you?” she asked, as she went into one of the other stalls.
“Uh — I — that is to say, uh — just why are YOU dressed up, anyway!?”
Kitsune laughed. She was wearing a pale blue corset and garter set.
“Why for fun, of course.”
Motoko peeked out over the top of the stall door.
“Are you ready yet? Let’s get Keitaro in here!”
“No!!!!!”, both Naru and Motoko shouted in unison.
“Why on earth would you want to bring Urashima back here?”
“Why, to have our male opinion, of course.”
“But are you sure that he even qualifies as being male?” Naru asked. I mean, he’s barely a man –”
“Barely is right”, Kitsune teased, making Motoko hide behind the changing room door. “But he’ll have to do — Oh Keitaro!”
“I don’t want Urashima to see me like this.”
“I totally agree”, Naru said hastily.
“Yes, Kitsune, what is –”
“I proudly give you our first annual Hinata House Fashion show, starring our very own blue mountain girl, Miss Motoko Aoyama!”
Keitaro froze. Motoko was wearing a corset made of scarlet satin, re-enforced with lines of black boning that ran up and down the waist, serving to emphasize her perfect hourglass figure. It had a matching garter belt, which held up a pair of black stockings, and a pair of red panties. The upper and lower edges of both the panties and the corset were edged with a ruffle of lace, which only served to further emphasize where the satin fabric gave way to the pale skin of Motoko’s body. For a finishing touch, Kitsune had pinned on a tiny black top hat to one side of her hair, set with a red rose.
Motoko’s face was an equally bright red. In her embarrassment, she turned to the side, and tried to cover herself, but that only made the pose that much more suggestive.
“Um, Keitaro?” Kitsune asked. “It’s probably a good idea to breathe at some point –”
“M — M — M — M –”
Motoko stormed back into the dressing room.
“See! He thinks I’m ugly! I told you I don’t have the figure for this! Now he thinks I’m hideous!”
“Oh, he doesn’t think you’re hideous –”
“But that look on his face –”
“Motoko, he was dumbstruck by your BEAUTY.”
“He . . .was? You really think Urashima . . . LIKED the way I look?”, she asked, glancing at her back in the mirror.
“I don’t have to think — I know! Now lets get you into your next outfit!”
“My NEXT outfit!?”
“She’ll be ready in just a sec–” Kitsune said, grinning over the top of the door.
“What’s with the fur!? Kitsune! This thing is see through!”
“I call this next little number ‘Samurai Catgirl In Love!’ Aren’t the little ears just so cute?”
Keitaro gasped. Before Motoko could say anything, Kitsune pulled her back into the changing booth.
“Next we have ‘Geisha Motoko’ — note the bow’s in the front, for easy access — followed by ‘Nights In White Satin Motoko’ — I hear this one’s a honeymoon favorite . . . »
» — and of course, we can’t leave out ‘Bondage Motoko’ — here, don’t forget your whip!”
Kitsune paraded Motoko out. The poor samurai girl was wearing a halter top, made completely of black leather. It had been split down the front, from top to bottom, and the only thing that guarded her modesty — or what was left of it — was a pair of black laces that wound sinuously back and forth, creeping up her body. There were various hoops, straps and buckles, as well as several strategically placed zippers, whose puposes Keitaro could only guess at. No doubt Kitsune could have explained in greater detail. The chain hanging from the collar around her neck jingled. Motoko tried in vain to parry his gaze with a riding crop.
« You want to hold her leash? »
Keitaro hit overload.
“I — I — I — I –”
Naru watched Keitaro’s eyes travel up and down Motoko’s body.
“I can’t let him think of her like this!” she said to herself. “Motoko! I’ll protect your honor from this pervert!” she shouted, hitting Keitaro with an upper cut, and sending him flying.
Motoko covered her mouth as she coughed to herself.
“Thank you, Naru.”
“Oh, it was nothing. Don’t mention it.”