Stipulations

Stipulations

Posted on December 3, 2021 at 8:16 pm by Bobby Dean

*Bzzzt*

*Bzzzt*

Fishing the phone from my pocket is an exercise that leaves me panting with a damp forehead. But the message I receive from the mustachioed asshole causes the largest smile to emerge. I didn’t think he had it in him, but boy am I pleasantly surprised!

“I guess it’s time to go shopping!” I say aloud to no one in particular.

———————

When you think of Victoria’s Secret you probably don’t think how relaxing their music is. But as I walk amongst the tables littered with sheer panties and bright colored brassieres, I can’t help but hum along to the music you would normally find in an elevator. If I could make one suggestion to them I would suggest they spread the distance of the tables, I feel like a bull in a China shop, bumping and knocking into just about everything I passed by.

“Excuse me sir, can I help you find something?” a nice looking petite blonde woman with red streaks asks, judging me with her eyes with a slight look of disgust.

“Yes, I ran a poll recently, and 97% of the people said Victoria’s Secret is the place to go for sexy underwear. So I’m here looking for something nice, possibly sheer, maybe even crotch-less in a beautiful #87blue.” I answer with a happy smile. “And for the top, I don’t know what they’re called, but I’m picturing one of those sexy little things that only covers half the tittie, kind of leaves the nips free.”

“A demi-cut?” she asks in answer.

I shrug, “Sure, I’ll take a look at those too and we can go from there.” I offer helpfully.

“We can do that, but first, if you don’t mind my asking, do you know what size your lady friend wears?” she asks, while leading me over towards a corner of the store.

“Lady friend?” I ask dumbly in response.

“Yes, uhm, is she more like your size? Or more like mine?” She asks this in such a way that makes me feel like I’m an idiot. I almost feel like I’m talking to Bobbinette Carey for a second, but then I remember, I don’t talk to the *other* *lesser* Bobbi. At my clueless face she continues, “Who exactly are you looking to buy these for?”

“No, these are for me.” I offer helpfully, smiling triumphantly from ear to ear. “This guy I know wants to see me in something nice.”

She stares at me, her jaw is slack, her eyes are wide, and her shoulders begin to slump. I snap my fingers before her face trying to draw her out of whatever funk she found herself in. She begins to stammer, focusing on me once more. “We. We. We’re not that kind of store, sir.”

“What do you mean?” now it was my turn to be confused, as the last time I looked, this was exactly the kind of store I needed. “I need a bra and panties. You sell bras and panties, don’t you?”

“Well yeah, but for women.” she answers with some heat behind her voice, as she takes a minute to look me up and down in open disgust, unlike the earlier veiled disgust. “And we cater towards women more my size, not your size.”

“What’s the largest size you sell?” I ask, completely ignoring her horrible attitude.

“Large?” she answers, with a pitch on the end to make it sound more like a question. “And, even then, it’s not a proper large, it’s more of a Secret Large, which is like a slightly bigger Medium.”

“I don’t know if I could fit in a Marge.” I say more to myself. “Uhm, do you know where I can go to find something more in my flavor?”

“…” she doesn’t answer, but does provide me a perfectly orchestrated eye roll. An eye roll that would make Lee proud, if only he could roll his old blind eyes.

———————–

3 Hours later

Apparently the place to be for people of my size is a lovely little place called Lane Bryant. And after trying on different styles of under garments for the last two hours, I have now found the perfect set.

Standing in a room surrounded by mirrors I twist and turn trying to see what the #87blue, lacey boy shorts look like from behind, as my moobies threaten to pop free of the matching demi cut bra. “Who knew I had such a huge dumper?” I ask aloud, as I notice the vast amount of curves I’ve never noticed before!

The much more helpful woman standing nearby smiles and nods her head, “this is my favorite combination you’ve tried. I think you were made to wear these!”

“I agree, I can’t wait for Steve to see this!” I smile, shaking my cheeks a bit to see how it jiggles with the smooth lace.

“But I have to ask, are you sure you want to go with that shade of blue? We’ve got some nice #96Red if you’d like to try on?” she asks, puzzling over the color with her arms crossed over her chest, and a hand to her chin.

“No, blue is totally me!” I answer smiling, shaking my head at the absurdity of red being better than blue! “Ring me up!”

$842 dollars later I make my way out of the store shaking my head in wonder. Apparently you’re not supposed to try on underwear naked… Something about how no one wants to buy used panties. They’ve never talked to Jace Parker Davidson, he collects them like they were Funko Pops!

————-

I lower my phone, having just finished reading the (Non)Stipulation for Match 5 of the Gentleman’s Agreement. The fury is rising within. My hands begin to shake as I look at the news article once more.

“He told me… He texted me, and told me… “ I mutter to myself, unable to complete a single sentence without pausing as the rage continues to build. “His text before Match 4 said and I quote “next match Bra and Panties match, no matter who wins, this HAS to happen!””

The fucking liar.

I believed him. At first I wondered to myself, why would he WANT to compete in a bra and panties match? I mean, I don’t even necessarily want to compete in a bra and panties match, but I would… And now, he’s so fucking lazy he cannot even pick a stipulation for our match!? A (non)stipulation – stipulation match? Come on! That logic was so 4 weeks ago!

So what now? I’m supposed to just walk around in 800 dollars worth of fancy undies for what? My self esteem? My confidence? I’m supposed to just lose to Solex in a boring old straight up match, with NO bells? NO whistles? NO inadvertent nudity?

Where’s the fun in that?

I swear, how is anyone supposed to have fun around here!?

All he needs to do is shave his head, and carry around a pen, and we’ve got ourselves the new Lee Best! Taking away fun stipulations, and just giving me bland matches and a whole lot of attitude! Ugh!

I guess the only option I have left is to kick his pearly whites in, and the stipulations will belong to me once and for all!