The Bra Fairy

Chloe wants to trash the old bra—it’s torn, useless. Her stepmother Ryan tells her to tuck it under the pillow instead. Let the Bra Fairy handle it. Chloe stares at her like she’s lost it, but Ryan plays it straight, zero cracks in the act. Chloe hovers the bra above the bin, fingers clenching, then curls it back against her chest and slips out of the room, swearing under her breath at her own stupidity. Ryan smirks, small and sharp. Night comes. Chloe slips the bra under the pillow, tells herself it’s stupid, does it anyway. Hours later a hand slides under that pillow, swaps the old lace for something new. Chloe’s eyes snap wide. She scrambles for the lamp. Light hits wings, black lace, long legs. Casey smiles like sin in silk. Chloe blurts, who the hell are you? Casey purrs that she’s the Bra Fairy. Chloe laughs once, sharp, until the wings twitch and the proof stares her down. Her tongue gets away from her—she says Casey’s hot. Hand flies to her mouth. Casey’s laugh is low, velvet. Tells Chloe she’s cute enough to taste. They meet fast, mouths open, hands greedy. Moans spill out before either can stop them. Ryan bursts in, barefoot, furious, then freezes when she sees the wings. Casey’s gaze flicks over her, hunger bright, and invites her in. Ryan hesitates half a second, then steps forward. The Bra Fairy has work to do, and these two bodies are just the beginning.