The Cosmos, The Arrivals, Book 1, Chapter 5, Babs & Tiffany: Dining Room, Backyard Scratch, Bath, Day 1, Section 3, Babs Indulges Tiffany: Observe Her Own Picture ¶ Babs’ eyes drift up to the top Picture, the one of herself. Bikini Babe in Black Bikini. She squares herself, hands on hips. {Let’s see what Tiffany sees. I can handle it. I am in control now.} ¶ Tiffany wags a finger at Babs’ Picture and praises the image, “I love the way you dish out the cleavage. You still do. And I love that you hang your bling on the wall. Guess you still bling!” ¶ “They are my {crescents} d’areolage,” BB corrects, her cheeks reddening. ¶ Tiffany charges forward. “And I love the way you blush at any thought, any reminder, that you bling all the time!” ¶ Babs bling crinkles, but she stands her ground. “I’m trying to get over being embarrassed, but maybe I’ll never not be ashamed. But mark my words: my bling will be contained soon.” ¶ “Bling and Blush!” Tiffany teases BB. ¶ “What about you? How did you get over it?” BB demands. ¶ “Me?” Tiffany inclines. “I was born this way.” ¶ Babs pouts, “I only ‘bling’ because I’m fo.rced to” ¶ Tiffany squirms, “Well, okay, being fo.rced to do something helps to overcome shame” Tiffany shrugs, “Me, I’m a Porn Star.” ¶ Tiffany scrutinizes Babs’ nombril and compares it to the one in her Picture. ¶ Babs advances, “It’s not like I haven’t made progress. I have contained my bush, as you can tell!” ¶ “And perhaps also your butt crack,” Tiffany lightens. ¶ Babs’ rubescence glows around her waistline, and BB feels that skin grow warmer Tiffany can’t quite perceive infrared in Babs’ olive skin, but the warm blo.od still courses where the tight elastic waistline grips her belly. {As posterior rugage, I suspect it shows at the Corvette House. Get over it.} She runs her fingers around the top of her waistline and inventories her situation. She purses her lips. “Most importantly, I Opted Monitor this Term.” Boss Babe casts Caste clearly. “As for my nombril, it’s barely legal, and I know if I become inattentive and let it droop I risk becoming vulgar front and back. It’s effort for me to keep the briefs in the sweet spot, so no bush leaks out, no butt crack shows at the top, and no bum hangs out the bottom.” ¶ “All Castes come with liabilities.” Tiffany waves, shifts, and asks outright, “So were you topless or nude while you Pledged?” ¶ Babs stalls. “Err, ah, no. And I’m not like you either.” ¶ Babs touches her bikini bottoms. “And this is how I intend to maintain my coverage. Until I put on something that covers me more.” ¶ Tiffany nods a chin toward the Bikini Babe on the wall and tacks, “So who let you beg to fold your Bikini down?” ¶ Babs feels the blush coming on. She draws her hands up across both breasts and tightens her folded arms. ¶ “Put it this way, I got to roll Dice at the end of last Term,” Babs informs. “Before they took this Picture. Only now, I’ve got the Dice. And the Makeup Case. They are my sole possessions, along with my Black Bikini.” ¶ ¶ “Ah, Dice and the Makeup Case!” Tiffany warms. “I played Dice once to determine how many Gamers would put lipstick on me. I was made a mess, let me tell you. I didn’t mind teasing my tits or twat, but my face was humiliation. It made me know I was being sold for money.” Tiffany humors, “If you let me roll Dice I will stay naked for that many days.” ¶ “Don’t be silly,” Babs retorts. ¶ “And, Ma’am, since you have a Makeup Case,” Tiffany advances, “please allow me to take on the burden of applying your makeup.” ¶ “You’d do that for me?” BB confirms, unsure. ¶ “Ma’am! I completed Madam Nurse Beautician’s Makeup Course with high marks! Look at you! You wear the face of Cleopatra. You deserve excellence.” ¶ Babs opens her mouth to share the fact that she too knows Madam Nurse Beautician. BB closes her mouth. {Tiffany doesn’t need to know that Beautician trained me in pedicure at the Beauty Salon.} ¶ Tiffany gestures to her own face. “Ma’am, I’ll do makeup for you and all the Cosmos. Me too. Any way you want. I will make us up like Cleopatra’s Strippers, or, if you want, Clowns, Drag Kings, or disgusting, strung-out, diseased Whores.” ¶ Babs hesitates. {Free assistance frequently has a price.} ¶ Tiffany misreads BB’s hesitancy and pushes forward. “Furthermore, because you got Dice, anytime you want to complement your bling you can just roll Dice and fold your nombril belly-down.” ¶ Tiffany points to Bikini Babe’s hairage on the wall. And casuals to Babs. “Show me where that tan line hits on you.” ¶ BB stiffens. ¶ “Hey, there’s nobody here: no Cams, just us. Right? I mean, look at me. I’m way belly-down. So down I’m {always} hairage. So go ahead, let me see.” ¶ And so Babs gathers her thumbs into her waistband, pushes downward, and shows Tiffany not just her current, but also her lower, faded tan line, from where the folded-down nombril had crossed hairage. Enough demonstration. Babs pivots around on bare feet