Buffy slowed the car down as the two passed a large wooden sign with frilly, white stylized letters that read ‘Welcome To Stepford’, followed by smaller letters in pink with the slogan ‘An Absolutely Perfect Place.’ Dawn looked at her sister and raised
her eyebrows in disbelief. She then dramatically rolled her eyes at the pompous and downright cheesy nature of the sign. Buffy couldn’t help but laugh at both the self-importance the people of Stepford must feel about themselves as well as Dawn’s overt-the-top
reaction to it.
“If this place is so perfect why is it in the middle of nowhere? And why has nobody heard of it?” Buffy asked.
“I’m going to say this in a not-so literal sense, but pump the breaks Slayer-girl. First you’re anxious that there isn’t a town. Now we get a town and you’re all of a sudden on red alert? Buffy, this isn’t Sunnydale. There aren’t
vampires and demons running around that you need to fight. Can you please just relax?” Dawn urged, before turning back to look out the window at the passing sights.
Buffy sighed, suddenly feeling foolish at being so unnerved visiting new places. But then she thought back to her time in Los Angeles when she fought back a vampire king and his horde but burned down the high school gymnasium in
the process and was expelled. After that she moved to Sunnydale, where she met the best friends anyone could ever have, but was still introduced to more Big Bads than she would like to admit. Then there was the time that she moved back to L.A. for a summer,
fleeing from the experience of sending Angel, who had reverted to his evil persona of Angelus, to hell itself. She sought a quiet, normal life waiting tables but had to rescue herself and others from getting sucked into a hellish dimension and decided to
face her responsibility and her friends back in Sunnydale. That was when Buffy just assumed that she would forever be hounded by the forces of darkness, but maybe Stepford for once would be different?
The car drove slowly down the street, passing rows of picturesque houses. The homes had a classic but expensive feel to them. There were slight details, like lawn art, metal and granite statues, and even elaborate fountains, which
gave the impression the homeowners were quite well-off.
“I’m starting to get the picture as to why nobody has nobody heard of this place,” Dawn said, watching a Ferrari zoom past heading the other way down the street, “Wealth buys a lot of privacy and this place must be loaded!”
The Summers car had now passed the neighborhoods and they now had made it into the heart of town. The sidewalks were partially crowded with rich-looking people all dressed to the nines as they passed storefront after storefront.
They noticed there were more clothing boutiques, spas and salons than they were accustomed to living in Sunnydale but just chalked it up to the glamorous and upper class nature of Stepford.
Buffy slowed the car down to get a better look at the passing scenery and especially the stylish-looking people walking by.
The first thing that struck the wide-eyed Summers girls were just how attractive everyone looked. It was like someone sought to create an entire town for models and dropped it in the middle of nowhere. Even the obviously middle-aged
adults all seemed to have a youthful and attractive presence about them. The men wore finely pressed suits complete with designer ties. It was obvious under the layers of clothing they had well-toned, muscular physiques.
The women, on the other hand, were an entirely different story. Some were leggy and thin, while others had a healthy voluptuous look. None of these body-types could have ever been describes as unattractive for even the most critical
of eyes. But that really wasn’t what made them stand out to the unsuspecting Summers sisters. That right was reserved for their overall looks. They all seemed to wear dresses of all different styles, fabrics and colors, but there seemed to be one prevailing
rule: skin was definitely in. In addition, their faces were perfectly made-up. Their hair, no matter how long was sleek, glossy and there wasn’t a single strand out of place. It was like these women awoke every morning and had their own personal stylist
to make herself up in true trophy-wife fashion.
Buffy knew Dawn probably was too young and overwhelmed to observe this but she noticed that all of the women’s heavily mascaraed and lined eyes were bright and clear. It looked like an excited fire burned in them that the Slayer
hadn’t seen in her time in Sunnydale and even Los Angeles.
The Slayer slowed the car down at a stop light and two big-breasted, middle-aged women minced across the street on impossibly high, seven-inch heels. They walked together, hand-in-hand, gossiping and giggling like teenagers. Both
girls noticed the pricey diamond earrings and bracelets they wore.
It was obvious that like the rest of the town these two came from wealth and with that, looked like they didn’t have a care in the world. Just then, one dropped her tiny purse in the middle of the street.
The voluptuous woman in the skintight mini-dress straightened her knees and bent at her waist.
Both girls couldn’t help but gasp when they got a good look at the middle-aged brunette’s bountiful cavern of cleavage.
When the woman stood up something around her neck gleamed in the sunlight, catching both Buffy and Dawn’s eye.
As the two sisters’ vision adjusted to the shine, they could see that the woman was wearing a rhine-stone choker around her neck.
It was a bizarre accessory to say the least, in Buffy’s mind, particularly in the apparent high-fashion code of the town.
To the Slayer, only people on the fringes of society like goths and bikers wore chokers.
Whatever it was, it was still just a fashion accessory, but at the same time both girls noticed that on the front of the choker was a single word written in the flowery font as the sign they saw when they entered town:
Buffy and Dawn noticed the woman’s friend standing off to the side of her, smiling broadly.
She had the exact same kind of choker secured around her neck too.
They watched on in stunned silence as her full-figured friend sauntered up to the woman and ran her finely manicured hand over the brunette’s firm backside.
Both women looked at each other and their full lips pursed in wide, vacant smiles.
They joined hands once more and
the two women proceeded across the street, their hips swaying as one, large tits thrust out as one high-heeled foot was placed delicately in front of the other.
The light turned green and Buffy stepped on the gas.
As the car drove down the street, the girls realized that every woman on the busy street wore a similar choker around their neck.
“Buffy…” Dawn said, looking over to her sister, “What is going on around here?”