"Woah... I'm a wizard? Cool!"
You unfold the costume with a soft rustling sound. The gown sparkles in the fluorescent light- not the clatter of cheap sequins, but fine garnet beads like dark, deep wine. It weighs nothing in your hands, quietly reminding you that it's only a game construct. Underneath the red fabric is a fluffy layer of petticoats. You try to get a better look at it, but every time you try to lift the hem of the skirt your vision seems to curve away from that angle in a smooth arc.
"Did you notice the censorship? It's impossible to put the camera in there, see?" Saul sounds pleased with his work. "This game is rated Everyone Ten and Up."
"Why is it affecting me, though? I'm not the player."
You can hear a small sigh tumble out of the doctor. "Yeah, but you ARE technically a kid. C'mon, it has underpants too, speaking of censorship." You move your attention away from the vertigo-inducing dress and dig deeper into the box. It's larger on the inside, but eventually you pull out-
"What the flarp is that?" You ignore your sudden inability to swear as the strange garment dangles in front of you. Is it a garment, though? As far as you can tell, you're holding a shadowy blot which hangs in midair when you let go. After a bit of fumbling, you manage to untangle it into a pair of stretchy black shorts. "Is this thing... safe?"
"The last test subject appreciated it. Also, you can't legally appear in the game if your nudity is exposed. PLEASE cover yourself up."
You don't really feel like arguing, so you oblige Saul. The gravity-free black mass passively resists you until you stick your paws in and force it into a convenient shape. You take a deep breath- noticing you haven't actually needed to breathe this whole time- and step into the shorts. It somehow feels like literal nothing as you slide the friction-free material up your legs, not even brushing the fur on your legs. Your shorts are all the way on with all the fanfare you usually get for putting on underwear.
"Alright, it's oOOOOHHAAN~"
The black fabric spontaneously tightens around your bunny crotch! The shadows blend in an uncanny way around your thighs as the light-absorbing black becomes a smooth gradient between it and your white fur. Solid rods force their way into your anus and vagina, pushing all the way to the hilt and gradually swelling until they fill you up completely. You reflexively reach for the waistband of the shorts to pull them off- if only to see what's going on down there- but they've fused fast to your body.
"Whhh-hhhHOW is this less racy?" You rush to grab at your groin and fail to touch it. It's not as if it's repelling your hands like a magnet, it's as if the location your crotch occupies doesn't exist. The pulsing black game construct invading your body isn't a space you can reach. "Take it out!"
"Only if you're backing out of the role, bunny. While we can't change how you behave, we can at least change how you appear, and you can't have players looking up your skirt. Literally, they won't be able to."
That's not what you wanted to hear, but you're sure as hell not backing out now. You take out the other half of the black underwear- a tight, sleeveless undershirt. Moments after you slide into it, the shirt also fuses to your body and smooths your nipples away into a flat, chaste torso. Soft, sucking pressure like black silk tongues throbs over where your breasts would be if you had any. You desperately want to cup your chest and push just a bit harder, push it past mere teasing, but the same odd phenomenon as before forbids you from groping or even looking like you're trying to grope.
"OoooOOOoooh... aaaah..." Your fuzzy cheeks begin to flush red. Left, right, left, your hips gyrate and thrust as you try to stimulate yourself without touching yourself. Grabbing the arms of one of the reception room chairs, you desperately try to dry-hump the furniture only to somehow miss and move in a completely innocent way. "AaaAAH DAMMIT! How is it doing that?"
Saul sounds more irritated by the second. "If you can't control yourself-"
"I-I-I can d-do it," you snap back. Closing your eyes and taking deep breaths, you pull a pair of shimmering green stockings all the way up to your thighs.
"Hehehmmf! Mmmhehehe! Nnm!" Instead of a lewd groping, the stockings are... tickling your paws? Somehow it feels even more perverted than the continuing penetration in your crotch. No matter how you jump and shuffle and spread out your bunny toes, you can't get away from the thin, opaque socks bound to your legs. Despite the overwhelming sensations covering your body, the stockings seem to be forcing you to stand up straight instead of collapsing to the floor. You turn around carefully and sit in the reception room chair, which your clothing does seem to allow. Looks like you're obligated to act normal...
You tip-toe carefully over to the red gown and slide it over your head, lopped bunny ears swinging the whole time. It's... heavy. The skirt points downwards no matter how you twist or turn, and it's long enough that it almost touches the carpet, showing your green stocking feet as you skip around. The sleeves are long enough to almost entirely swallow up your hands. A green ribbon automatically ties itself around the base of your tail, complete with a jingling brass bell. As you flip the matching red witch hat onto your head, you're thankful that it doesn't seem to be layering any more torments on your body so far.
"Mmmhehe, wwwhat am I, s-s-some sort of c-candy wizard?" You pick up the costume's "wand", a slim white rod topped with a red and green crystal disc. Your knees knock together, your left foot crosses over your right foot, your hips continuously sway, your entire head is starting to turn red, you bite your lower lip with your bunny incisors. One more attempt to feel up your privates leaves both of your hands gripping the wand horizontally as you rest your hands on the front of your gown. You look so demure...
"Correct," says Dr. Vargas. "You're Ringo Witch, a C-rank party member in our new idle RPG fantasy adventure."
"C-rank? I-Idle?" You suddenly feel way less giggly. "Is this a gatcha game? That's gross, you're SELLING me? What the f-"
A shiny white mask materializes in front of you and slams into your face! Within a split second, it shifts colors and becomes a frozen, slightly lower-poly duplicate of your bunny face while it simultaneously fills up your mouth until you can no longer talk. You know, intellectually, you have no vocal chords in this digital avatar, but the program has decided that this hardly matters. Dropping to your knees (apparently allowed) and pawing at where the seam between the mask and your head used to be does little to help, other than exposing the soles of your paws and easing the tickling for a moment.
"You're so sweet!" says the mask. Wait, you didn't mean to say-
"I know you're programmed to say that, but that's still very nice, Ringo." The doctor sounds pleased. "As a C-rank hero, you aren't the most powerful, but I'm sure some players somewhere will appreciate pulling you anyways."
"I'm proud to battle the darkness with you!" says your mask. What appears to be four slowly rotating cardboard walls rise up around your body.
"Glad to know, Ringo. Good luck!"
You would scream, but you don't have that privilege. A cardboard lid drops over your head, followed by a storm of wrapping paper and ribbons! The present shrinks and shrinks, and falls away...
All the while you're frozen in place, pigeon-toed and resting your hands on your apron, eyes wide and calmly smiling. Sweet and innocent.
Nobody but you notices the first time you orgasm in the box. Nor the second. Nor the third... nor the twelfth...