Bountiful Plantation (F+/F, reluc)

Bountiful Plantation:  Part I of VI

   The teenager first noticed the small stand-alone store 
as she was driving along the boulevard.  She had never 
noticed it before and wondered if it had always been 
there, hidden away between a large jewelry store and an 
exclusive health spa.  The store had an expensive-looking 
black marble front, with the name "Bountiful Plantation" 
carved discreetly in gold lettering over the heavy glass 
door.  It aroused her interest. 
 
   Under the name was a bronze frieze of palm trees in 
the shape of a triangle, with a small stream leading down 
the center of the triangle's apex.

    She couldn't be sure exactly what kind of store it 
was, or even if it was a store at all, because there were 
no display windows.  Even the glass door was covered by a 
thick interior curtain.  "Well, it isn't as if I'm 
pressed for time or anything,"  she thought.
  
   Besides, going into places were she might not be 
allowed always proved irresistible to Cynthia.  With her 
looks and obvious breeding, she was usually able go just 
about anywhere and not get into trouble for doing so.  
"Having money is so much fun," she thought.

   She had cut school on this fine southern California 
May morning for a day of shopping with the same firm 
confidence with which she did everything.  Although only 
a freshman at the local private college, she was 
frequently mistaken for a highly professional 
businesswoman who happened to be surprisingly beautiful.  
Or at least so she liked to think, anyway.

   Convinced from an early age by living a life of 
privilege and wealth, as well as from her mother's 
careful teachings, Cynthia was assured of her natural 
superiority to those unfortunates around her.  Her 
voluptuous good looks coupled with her air of cool 
superiority, proved a challenge hard to resist for the 
males in her school, be they fellow students or even 
teachers.  But, regardless of the situation, she always 
remained firmly in control.  The world was in the palm of 
her hand, she knew, and that's just where it belonged, 
too!  There wasn't anything that she couldn't handle.  
Nothing too good that she didn't deserve.

   Yet, for all of her posturing and flirting, she was an 
innocent in the ways of the world.

   A sign reading "Parking for Bountiful Plantation Only" 
directed her to a narrow alley which ran alongside the 
building.  The alley took her behind the building where a 
small parking area was laid out.  The two cars already 
there were very expensive European imports.  The kind of 
cars her father's wealthy clients (the only kind he had, 
really) brought with them when they came for dinner.

   "Promising.  Very promising,"  she whispered to 
herself as she parked her car.
  
   Cynthia breezed into the front entrance of the 
"Bountiful Plantation" as if she owned it.  The heavy 
automatic door shut silently behind her as she stood just 
inside, her eyes adjusting to the very dim light of the 
building's interior.  From the racks of clothes, thick 
carpeting and otherwise lush interior, it appeared to be 
a very expensive if discrete clothing boutique.
  
   "I can't afford this place,"  she thought glumly.  
"But, it couldn't hurt to just look around, now could 
it?"

    At that point a small, ancient man wearing a black 
beret swished up to the tall, blonde teenager.   "I am 
George Papadakis", he said as her leered her up and down.  
"Owner and general manager of this establishment.  
Welcome to Bountiful Plantation".

   "Hi!" Cynthia responded.  "I'm Cynthia.  Mind if I 
look around?" she said as she started to walk towards the 
store's interior.

   "Yes, I do.  Now, stand still a moment.  I want to see 
something."

   "Excuse me?"  the startled teenager asked as she 
stopped.

   "I said, stand still.  This is not a common store 
where you can wander about as you please.  This 
establishment is for members only, and I alone get to 
select the membership.  Only those good enough and 
special enough may come here.  So stand still and let me 
see if you have what it takes."

   The surprised blonde did as she was told.  It wasn't 
often that someone told her she couldn't do something and 
meant it.  Plus, any chance to belong to an exclusive 
organization was just the thing Cynthia lived for.

   The little man walked slowly around her.  When he was 
out of her sight, he quietly coughed.  There was a 
discreet answering cough from the dark interior of the 
store, and that was all.
Moving in front of her once again, Papadakis said, 
"You'll do.  You'll do very nicely.  So, what kind of 
ensemble were you looking for?"

   Cynthia smiled at him.  She had passed the test!  She 
was quite gratified in impressing him with her looks, yet 
it wasn't really surprising to her.  It was just another 
validation to what she already knew, that she was quite 
superior to most people.

   Yet, Cynthia wasn't at all sure, superior though she 
might be, that her parents would appreciate the outfit or 
the bill that this strange little man could probably 
develop.  "Maybe I could just get an estimate," she 
thought.  "That's safe enough."

   She carefully considered her needs for a moment, then 
told Papadakis, "I need a dress for a formal dinner my 
parents are giving for my father's clients.  It will be 
at our home in Eastwood Estates, this Sunday evening.  
I'm sorry for the short notice, but I just found out 
about it myself this morning."

   "Never apologize, it's a sign of weakness.  And don't 
worry about the timing.  What must be done, shall be 
done."

   Cynthia felt things were starting to slide out of 
control here.  It was unfortunately time for a few 
admissions.

   "Sure.  But you see I'm not really sure that I can 
afford..."

   "Eastwood Estates," Papadakis mused.  "That's one of 
those exclusive developments north of the city, isn't 
it?"
      
   "Well, yes..."

   "Then you can afford this, take my word for it.  
Unless, of course, you're from one of those families that 
can't really afford to live there, but do anyway."

   Cynthia was indignant!  How dare he imply that they 
were poor!  "We... I mean I can afford anything you've 
got!" she rashly retorted.

   "OK, then," said the crafty Papadakis.  "Now, to 
business.  You're probably looking for something sexy and 
flamboyant."

   "Oh, no!, she replied, horrified.  "Nothing like that.  
This is for one of my father's business parties.  It must 
be very respectable."  Her father almost killed her the 
last time she wore something even remotely sexy.

   "At Bountiful Plantation, we're not just creating 
clothes, but actual art for you that you can wear. And we 
are doing this today, right now.  Believe me, honey, 
whatever we give you, you and everyone else around you 
will like.  I guarantee it." 
  
   "Well, okay.  How about just a trial fitting or 
something, and then I'll make my final decision about it 
after that."  That way she could make them jump through 
hoops if she wanted, and still wouldn't have to buy 
anything, Cynthia thought smugly.  She loved doing things 
like that to sales clerks.  It gave her such a feeling of 
superiority and power!

   Papadakis looked around her and said, "We can finally 
start now, Mickey."

   Cynthia spun around and, startled, saw two women 
standing directly behind her.  "How long have they been 
there?" she wondered.

   The taller of the two gave Cynthia a stemmed crystal 
glass filled with a pale, bubbling liquid.  "Here, honey.  
This is for you.  Welcome to Bountiful Plantation."

   "Thank you," Cynthia haughtily replied as she took the 
proffered glass.  She held up the glass to the dim 
lighting.  "Diet 7-Up?" she asked, hopefully.

   "Ah, no," the woman replied.  "We have only the finest 
champagnes here for our clients."

    Terribly embarrassed, Cynthia realized that she had 
broken her mother's primary rule: never to look the fool 
in front of others.  Cynthia thought madly of a way to 
make amends.  She did the only thing she could think of 
doing, which was to drink the contents of the glass.  She 
was surprised at how cold and relatively tasteless the 
liquid was on her tongue.  "So, this is champagne," she 
thought.  "What's the big deal?"  She had had soft drinks 
that had more kick to them than this!

   To the woman, Cynthia told her, "Not bad, but I've had 
better."

   "Right," muttered the woman as she refilled the girl's 
empty glass.

   The second woman left the group and went to the 
store's main entrance.  She locked the door and placed a 
"Closed" sign on the glass.
  
   When she returned Cynthia was finishing her second 
glass of champagne.  "How many of these silly things am I 
supposed to drink, anyway?" she complained to herself as 
the tall woman refilled her glass yet again.  She wasn't 
even thirsty, although she was starting to feel much less 
nervous about being here.

   "All right, take your clothes off," the shocked 
Cynthia thought she heard Papadakis say from behind her.

   "What?" she gasped.  Cynthia was so caught off guard, 
her mouth dropped open as she spun around to face the 
little man.  "What did you say?"

   "Oh, please," the disgusted Papadakis said.  "I knew I 
should have stayed in Greece," he quietly muttered.

   To Cynthia, he said, "Look, kid.  I've got to see what 
you look like, you know.  If you're really scared of me, 
there are two very respectable women present to hold your 
hand.  So cut the comedy and get undressed, will you?"

   Cynthia didn't know what to do!  She had never felt 
this confused in a clothing boutique before.  It's not 
that she had never taken her clothes off in such places 
before.  It's just that no one had ever been so blatant 
about it!

   Although she had no intention of buying anything (this 
place kept looking more and more expensive even for her), 
she felt it wouldn't hurt to try on a few dresses, just 
for future reference.  Cynthia looked around hesitantly.  
"Where are the changing rooms?"

   Papadakis, holding several bolts of expensive-looking 
material, looked at her in disgust.  

   "You must be joking!  We don't have changing rooms 
because we've never needed them.  We only take adults 
here.  Oh, all right.  Mickey, take the juvenile here to 
the toilet in the back.  And while you're at it, take 
away her glass and give her a diet soda!"

   Cynthia stiffened at the slight.  "No, no!  It's all 
right,"  she muttered through gritted teeth, as she 
reached with both hands behind her neck to unfasten the 
clasp to her pullover.  

   The shorter woman appeared magically beside Cynthia 
and murmured softly, "Let me help you with that, dear," 
as she lowered the zipper to Cynthia's top and started to 
pull the garment over the surprised teenager's head.

   When Cynthia's arms were completely entangled with the 
taking off of her top, she felt hands at her waist, 
unfastening the buttons on her short pleated skirt.  As 
her skirt was being loosened, Cynthia felt still other 
hands pulling her expensive walking shoes and socks off 
of her feet one at a time.

   In a extraordinarily short amount of time, Cynthia 
found herself stripped of her blouse, skirt, shoes, and 
socks.  She stood nervously in the center of the room, 
wearing only her matching blue low-cut bra and very brief 
bikini panties.  Her shoes had been replaced by a pair of 
very high heels which fit surprisingly well.  During the 
brief flurry of activity, even her watch and jewelry had 
been taken from her.  A terrible shadow of doubt overcame 
her as she watched the smaller woman take her possessions 
into another room in the back of the store.

   "You won't be needing these for a while, honey," the 
woman said over her shoulder to the astonished 18-year 
old as she walked away.

   Cynthia nodded doubtfully and looked down at her new 
shoes.  The toes were quite pointed and the heels were 
the highest she had ever worn.  She had to raise her arms 
for a moment to keep her equilibrium as she learned to 
maintain her balance on the stiletto heels.  She took a 
few practice steps, then looked questioningly at 
Papadakis; but, it was the other woman clerk who answered 
her unspoken question.
  
   "The creations you purchase here require heels,"  
Mickey said stiffly.

   "Oh.  Yes, of course,"  the abashed teenager muttered.
  
   "I can't do anything right here," she thought.  "I 
feel like I'm 10 or something.  They're treating me like 
some kid who just wandered in here by mistake.  Well, 
I'll show them.  I am just as much an adult as they are."

   Papadakis stopped sorting through the various bolts of 
material he had for a moment and rubbed his face.  He 
looked up and said, irritably.  "I said, get your clothes 
off!"

   "They are off!"  the innocent blonde wailed, all 
thoughts of being an adult momentarily forgotten.  Then a 
shocking idea came to her.  "You don't mean...?"  She 
protectively covered her bra and panties with her arms 
while she unconsciously shook her head.  "Oh, no!"

   "Oh, yes!  I want you naked.  My God, you mean you 
have never undressed in a store to try on clothes 
before?"

   Again, Cynthia felt humiliated!  "Oh my God!"  she 
thought.  "I've done it again!  I've acted like a 
complete tourist!"

   This must be a very exclusive shop indeed for them to 
require a customer to do something like that.  And she 
should have known, darn it!   Still, she hated to be told 
what to do.  Maybe it was time to show these guys just 
who really was the boss around here and just leave.
  
   She toasted Papadakis and emptied the glass down her 
throat.  However, before she could think of a crushing 
exit line, she felt a faint tug on her thin bra strap and 
suddenly her firm, full young breasts seemed to leap 
free, standing erect and proud in the store's cool air.
  
   "Oh!"  she said in surprise, as Mickey quickly pulled 
the bra from her shoulders and off her arms. 
 
   Cynthia watched with despair as her bra hung, 
forgotten, from Mickey's right hand.  She shifted her 
gaze to the woman's face and was stunned to discover 
Mickey was openly staring at her now exposed, pert 
breasts with something in her eyes she couldn't identify.  
Cynthia found herself captivated by those glittering 
eyes.
  
   "What is that strange emotion there?" Cynthia wondered 
with a chill.  Whatever it was, she didn't like it.  She 
didn't like it at all.

   Mickey finally said, in a low husky voice, "I thought 
you might need some help.  You know, you're very 
beautiful!"

   "Oh, that explains it," Cynthia thought.  "I've 
impressed her too, poor thing."  Cynthia had found that 
girls less fortunate than her were always impressed by 
her looks.

   "Well, it's gone this far," Cynthia thought.  "Might 
as well give them their money's worth!"  She handed her 
empty glass to Mickey. 
 
   With a courage  born of the knowledge of her superior 
station in life, plus three glasses of the unaccustomed 
champagne, Cynthia turned to one side and bent over at 
the waist.  She then peeled down her flimsy silk panties.  
She felt every eye in the room focused on her as she 
quickly pulled the waistband down her flaring hips and 
past her knees.  She soon stood in the center of the 
room, blushing to the roots of her hair, stark naked 
except for her new heels, her panties a colorful puddle 
at her feet.
  
   She started to cover her breasts with her left hand 
and her pubes with her right, but thought better of it.  
They certainly couldn't fit her like that, she knew.  And 
so she stood, almost at attention, legs together, back 
straight, shoulders back to thrust her proud breasts out 
even further than normal, and arms held stiffly down her 
sides.
  
   "My God!" she thought.  "I'm on display!"

   Although she thought she would feel a constant 
embarrassment or shame, to her surprise, she quickly got 
over her initial embarrassment.  Instead, she suddenly 
felt very naughty.  She knew that nudity happened like 
this in the movies all the time, and nothing ever 
happened to the girl.  That is, not unless she wanted it 
to, and Cynthia knew that she certainly did not want that 
to happen at all.  Especially with that old geezer.  Ugh!

   All she needed was someone to draw her portrait and it 
would be perfect.  Well, being fitted was practically the 
same thing, wasn't it?

   A strange, unknown sexual excitement ran through her 
as she stood there, waiting for things to finally get 
started.  She looked down and noticed her nipples were 
now taut and sticking out like two tiny pink-skinned 
bullets.  "Oh my," she worried.  "I hope they don't 
notice that.  How embarrassing!"

   Mickey held her refilled glass again and said, "Just a 
little more.  You might catch chill in here."

   "Thank you," Cynthia said nicely, feeling much more 
relaxed now about everything as she took it .   

   Mickey hadn't moved after she had given Cynthia her 
glass.  She was standing in front of the girl, taking in 
Cynthia's figure with greedy, half closed eyes.  Cynthia 
looked back at her, and watched her until their eyes met.  
Lowering her eyes in embarrassment, Cynthia  noticed that 
there was still something more than admiration in her 
look, but couldn't decide what it was.
  
   "It's time we began," Mickey finally said with a slow, 
heavy voice.
   

   As the teenager was preoccupied with Mickey, the 
second woman quickly collected her underwear lying on the 
carpet and took them into the same back room where she 
had previously taken the rest of Cynthia's clothes.  In 
the room she carefully sprinkled a thin layer of very 
fine powder onto the inner crotch band of the panties and 
inside the tips of the girl's bra cups.  
   
   "It is," the woman thought maliciously,  "going to be 
one hell of a "cumming out"  party that girl is going to 
attend today.  Ha, ha!"
   
   She carefully folded everything and placed them on top 
of the neat pile of Cynthia's clothes already there.  She 
then pulled a thin box from underneath the counter where 
she was working, and placed that on top of Cynthia's 
clothes as well.  The woman then looked through the 
girl's purse until she found Cynthia's student 
identification card, credit cards (there were several) 
and  her driver's license.  These the woman placed in her 
inner jacket pocket before rejoining the others in the 
front room.  


   Mickey said, "You must walk around now, so we can see 
how you move."

   Cynthia hadn't taken off her new high heels and as she 
walked slowly across the room, her breasts, in spite of 
her steady walk, quivered and her hips and pelvis moved 
in supple majesty.  Cynthia's firm skin glowed with 
health in the soft lighting with a golden tan.  Her flesh 
showed no swim suit marks. 
 
   Nude, Cynthia walked back and forth across the room.  
No one said anything.  It was so still in the room you 
could hear the soft murmur of the air conditioning and 
the soft step of her shoes on the deep, plush carpet.  
She looked at Papadakis and the two women and saw they 
were weirdly fascinated by her naked body.  

   "Strange," she mused.  "I would have thought that 
naked people were fairly common around here, after the 
way they carried on."
  
   As she walked, she felt she self become increasingly 
excited, much more then the simple act of walking should 
warrant.  It reminded her of that time on beach last 
summer.  Her suit that day had been particularly daring,  
and she had gotten such a response from it that she 
started to deliberately parade in front of the people at 
the beach, walking as she imagined a Queen would, proudly 
while disdaining the rabble.  It proved to be quite a 
turn-on for the teenager, to be almost naked in her tiny 
bikini bathing suit and have a whole beach full of people 
drink in her figure and applaud.  Men (and even some 
women) were falling over themselves snapping her picture.  
One man had even pointed a video camera at her.  It had 
been at that point, however, that she shamefully lost her 
nerve and, running back to her spot on the beach, had 
wrapped herself in her beach blanket.

   All that public attention had been very thrilling and 
she had loved it, until her nerve broke, anyway.  Even 
the excitement she always felt when she ran around the 
house completely nude during the day, when no one was 
around of course, was really something.  But this...!  
"Wow!" she thought.  "What a rush!"

   She had never really been so naked in front of anyone 
before, except her mother of course and that was when she 
had been much younger.  Yet there was something terribly 
appealing about being naked but safe in front of a group 
of underlings.

   "Enough!"  Papadakis cried in horror, covering his 
eyes.  "My God!  Let's get to work."

   Mickey came to her with another full glass of ice-cold 
champagne.  "Perhaps we could have lunch sometime?"  she 
cooed seductively with a smile as Cynthia took the glass 
and gave Mickey her empty one.

   For the first time, Cynthia looked both women closely.  
Both of them were middle-aged, thin, wore severe 
charcoal-gray tailored suits, and had surprisingly short, 
slicked-back hair.  They looked quite smart, yet 
conservative.  Both wore horn-rimmed glasses and both, as 
Cynthia surmised, were good at their job.  She smiled 
back at them, enjoying the pleasure of impressing people, 
even a pair of dried-up frumps like these. 
 
   "I'd like to but I'm afraid I haven't the time,"  she 
smirked at her most condescending.  As if she would ever 
consent to going out with 'the help.'

   The woman nodded, as if she understood something that 
Cynthia did not.  "If you should change your mind, I'm 
Mickey and that's June over there."

   Large amounts of cloth were measured and cut.  
Finally, the three of them, Papadakis, Mickey and June, 
were all around her, draping her with cloth, pinning the 
tucks and marking hems, all the while constantly talking 
and arguing with one another.  She had never felt more 
naked in her life and started at first whenever she was 
touched.
 
   But soon, she had never felt more ignored!   It was 
quickly obvious to the teenager that now they could have 
cared less about her physically, especially after 
Papadakis kept growling at her for jumping about.

   They ignored Cynthia, treating her as if she were 
nothing more than a store dummy.  For all of their 
earlier appreciation of her charms, at that moment she 
was just a mannequin to them.  So, she held back her 
protests at being touched and tried to be as 
accommodating as she could.

   They crouched and stood around her, smoothing out the 
fabric, touching and cupping her breasts from underneath, 
smoothing her thighs and patting the firmness of her 
buttocks.  Mickey kneeled directly in front of her and 
adjusted the fabric to fall and drape between her thighs 
in a certain way, the backs of her fingers touching and 
occasionally pressing against Cynthia's pouting pubic 
mound and vagina, in an impersonal way of course.  June 
would occasionally run a stiff woolen fabric over 
Cynthia's increasingly sensitive nipples from time to 
time as she worked on possible bodices the dress could 
have.  

   Cynthia had never felt more wicked and excited in her 
life, and was finding it increasingly difficult to keep 
her cool exterior.  It took all of her iron self-control 
to keep from jumping like a silly schoolgirl every time 
someone touched her.  She must be more grown-up about 
this.  The champagne really helped.  She took another 
drink and felt light headed and giddy.
  
   "My God," she thought.  "This champagne is really 
great!!"

   As the seemingly endless fitting session continued, 
Cynthia began to feel warn and dreamy inside.  She closed 
her eyes to savor the sensations better.  She was nude 
with a group of strangers, yet she felt good.  They were, 
after all, working for her.  She was the one in control 
here.  Increasingly, she was becoming pleased with their 
hands even inadvertently feeling her body.  She wished it 
would go on all day.  How nice it would be, she thought, 
to lie stark naked and have somebody massage you.  How 
pleasant it would be.  How protected.  She could finally 
let herself go, yet she wouldn't have to concern herself 
with anyone trying to take advantage of her body.  Isn't 
that what being a princess was all about?
   

   The stroking of her body continued.  When they noticed 
that Cynthia had closed her eyes, Papadakis stood off to 
one side and studied her face.  When he saw Cynthia begin 
to smile, he nodded to his assistants.  The two women set 
aside their bolts of fabric and concentrated fully on 
their subtle loving of the beautiful teenager. 
 
   They began working in earnest on the unsuspecting 
blonde.  For the moment leaving alone her nipples, 
vagina, and anus, the women subtlety began to caress 
every inch of the unprotected 18-year old's body with 
their highly-educated hands.  They saw the girl's nipples 
become stiffly erect, and noted with pleasure the 
moisture starting to leak past her vulnerable swollen 
pussy lips, the beads of sweat forming underneath her 
hairline, the increasingly rapid rise and fall of her 
high-set swelling breasts with their terribly erect 
nipples.  The women looked at each other in surprise.  
Didn't this spoiled brat know what was happening to her?  
They looked to Papadakis, each with the same unspoken 
question:  how much longer could this situation 
continue?!

   Papadakis shrugged his narrow shoulders.
  
   The women went back to the unsuspecting beauty. 
 
   Cynthia was day-dreaming of castles and royalty.  She 
was walking down a crowed  hall so tall the rafters were 
lost in the clouds.  Her devoted subjects were pelting 
her with rose petals, and her tunic was so fine she could 
feel the weight of the petals as they landed all over her 
sensitive body.

   Mickey knelt in front of the unaware Cynthia and began 
to softly blow on the vulnerable cunt lips, while her 
hands lightly traced the rounded curves of Cynthia's firm 
buttocks.  The flesh of her ass erupted in goose pimples 
as Cynthia occasionally shook her hips in unconscious 
protest of this dual assault.

   June meanwhile deliberately licked and tweaked 
Cynthia's vulnerable nipples, teasing  them into 
astonishing hardness as her hands moved lightly over the 
twin orbs.

   Sensing the teenager jerking more and more in response 
to their increasingly bold administrations, the two women 
joined Papadakis and waited for the girl to reach 
wakefulness.

   Cynthia awoke from her reverie with a start.  She was 
standing alone, Papadakis and the two women were standing 
off looking at a stack of dress patterns.  How much time 
had gone past?   What happened?  Why was she so 
breathless, her body so tingly?

   Papadakis's withered face beamed with satisfaction.  
"Got it.  I know exactly what to do for this one."  He 
moved right in front of the naked Cynthia.  "Tonight I 
shall make you a dress that will shake the world, or at 
least your parents.  Now, why don't you run on home or 
wherever and let us work?  Come back tomorrow, that's 
Saturday to you, at three o'clock for the final fitting."

   "Phew!  Thank God that's over with," the relieved 
Cynthia said to herself.  Cynthia was tired from standing 
in one place for so long.  Yet there was a strange 
nervousness about her that she didn't understand.  
"Probably from all that champagne I had to keep 
drinking," she thought.
  
   Her own clothes had (thankfully) been returned to her.  
But this time no one helped her with her clothes, and she 
was surprised to be having a lot of trouble with her 
fasteners and buttons.

   Mickey watched the dazed girl with interest as she 
tried to get dressed and shook her head.
  
   "On second thought, June, why don't you get a bathing 
suit from stock and we can take Cynthia over to my place.  
It's not too far from here and the kid could, I think, 
use a swim before driving home."

   To Cynthia she said, "How about a little swim before 
going back to Eastwood?  Okay, dear?"

   "Sure, Mickey.  Whatever you say,"  the teenager 
mumbled.  She smiled weakly at her.  "Oh my," she 
thought.  "I forgot to tell them that I'm not going to 
buy anything."  Perhaps she had better do what they were 
suggesting, and leave for home from Mickey's.
 
   She knew was risking something (she wasn't sure 
exactly what) by breaking the rules against going out 
with store-people but she doubted it.  She had been with 
them all day it seemed like and, with the help of the 
champagne, they were all really good friends now.
 
   Mickey took back off what few clothes the befuddled 
teenager had managed to put on, and Cynthia found herself 
naked once again.

   Cynthia stood drunk, naked and uncaring in the center 
of the room. 
 
   She loved the idea of flaunting herself in front of 
this people.  It was fun because it was so safe!  As for 
the effect she might be having on the women present, it 
occurred to her not at all.  To the proud Cynthia, the 
store's salespeople were just ciphers, and hardly 
warranted an acknowledgment of their presence.  They were 
only there to serve...her.

   June walked up to Cynthia and handed her a suit they 
had selected for the befuddled teenager.

   Cynthia looked in puzzlement at the bathing suit that 
June had given her.  "What funny looking underwear," she 
thought in her alcohol-induced haze.  "This must go 
underneath the suit," she thought, as they helped her 
into the strangest and absolutely the briefest garment 
she had ever seen.  After it was on, and she saw no one 
else bringing anything from the back of the store, did 
she realized that this was the suit.

    It consisted of a series of dark red elastic straps 
and very small patches of fabric which covered her body 
in thin vertical strips.  The very narrow crotch strap 
expanded into a small triangle of fabric which barely 
covered her pubic area and, thanks to the narrow thong in 
back, her firm buttocks were completely exposed.  Each 
breast was only covered in the center by a vertical one-
inch strap.  The elastic material of the crotch band 
running underneath the suit was very tight, putting a 
constant pressure on her strangely sensitive pubic area.  
In fact, the whole suit seemed to the dazed teenager to 
be about two sizes too small.  The only thing holding it 
all together was the unusual way the straps were all tied 
behind her neck.
  
   She noted vaguely that the suit had a surprising 
affect on her.  It made her feel very sexy!



Bountiful Plantation:  Part II of VI

   They led the dazed teenager, each woman with a 
comforting arm around her girlish waist, out the back of 
the building, tottering on her stiletto heels and looking 
ravishing in her string bathing suit.  They took her to 
the passenger side of Mickey's Mercedes SL 600.  It was a 
beautiful, powerful car with heavily smoked windows.  
Papadakis scampered on  ahead and opened the door for 
them.  He helped Cynthia into the front passenger seat.  
The plush leather seat felt wonderful on Cynthia's bare 
skin.  She leaned back and closed her eyes, luxuriating 
in the feel of the cool, soft leather on her heated 
flesh.  The bucket seat embraced her like a wonderful 
second skin.  She immediately kicked off her shoes and 
proceeded to get comfortable.
   
   "Oooh," she purred as she settled into the seat, the 
supple leather caressing her bare flesh..
   
   "Enjoy the ride!" snickered Papadakis as he shut the 
door.

   June entered from the driver's side and got into the 
back seat while Mickey took her place behind the wheel.

  "This car is sweet!  You can get really comfortable in 
it," Cynthia told Mickey, who was putting on a set of 
kid-leather racing gloves and dark aviator sunglasses.

  "So glad you approve,"  Mickey replied with an 
unnoticed bit of venom.  "Now watch this."  Mickey 
lowered the seat-back by remote control, slowly placing 
the semi-nude Cynthia into an almost total reclining 
position.  Also for her passenger's benefit, she secretly 
activated a heater she had installed.  It was located 
directly under Cynthia's seat.

   "Why don't you take a nap?  We'll be there in about 30 
minutes."

   Mickey closed the door, and the car's interior was 
immediately plunged into darkness.  
Once her seat went back, Cynthia's head began to spin and 
she closed her eyes in an effort to stop the dizziness.  
In the cool, comfortable darkness of the car, Cynthia's 
body began to take control.  She did not notice Mickey 
start the car and expertly drive out of the parking lot 
and onto the boulevard.  All she could think about was 
how the soft leather felt on her firm, bare flesh.  She 
was highly aware of  how the suit's straps were pressing 
tightly, even deliciously into her highly sensitive 
breasts and crotch.  The self-indulgent 18-year old had 
never felt like this before.  It was all she could do not 
to reach down and pull as strongly as she could on those 
wonderful straps going between her legs!  

   Instead, she tried to move as slyly as possible, 
shifting her hips, opening and closing her thighs, and 
secretly pressing her crossed arms onto her tingling 
breasts (especially the pebble hard nipples), all to 
enhance the strange and almost overwhelming sensations 
her body was now generating.  It had never felt more 
stimulated, more alive.  Her body was spinning out of 
control and she didn't care!  It felt too good!  She had 
never felt so deliciously naughty ! Besides, she knew she 
could always stop herself.  She just didn't want to!  
Even better, it was all so safe.
  
   They woul never really notice anything she did to 
herself in this dark of a car (those cows seemed so 
stupid).  Besides, it was obvious that these women would 
do just about anything to ensure that she bought 
something at their shop today.  Why else would they treat 
her so nicely, almost royally, all day.  Even to bring 
her all the way to (well, to where ever they were going) 
just for a swim? She didn't care what Dad said about it.  
Mom was right-- being rich and beautiful was great!

   Cynthia found that by stretching in the seat, she 
could cause a wonderful sensation in that most secret of 
places, her pussy!  She pretended to yawn and stretched 
out as far as she could go.  The straps fastened behind 
her neck tightened, causing the suit's narrow crotch 
strap to dig tightly into the girl's vulnerable cunt 
lips.

   "Oooh!  That feels soo nice," Cynthia said breathily, 
to no one in particular.


   As Mickey drove, she kept a critical eye on their 
young guest.  Even in the darkness it was clear that the 
naive girl was clumsily trying to masturbate herself 
right in the car.  Her car!  "Well," Mickey thought, "if 
that's what this beautiful cupcake wants, then that's 
what she'll get."  She felt that it was perhaps the time 
for a little expert guidance.  Mickey activated another 
surprise for the tall, proud beauty lying next to her.  

   June, sitting quietly in the back seat, was watching 
their stunning prize rapidly push herself over the edge.  
"It's time, Mickey my love," she thought.  "It's time."


   Unaware of all the attention her actions had acquired, 
Cynthia finally got herself to lay quietly, enjoying the 
smooth ride and reveling in her body's sensations.  It 
was time to cool off, she knew.  She was drifting off 
into a very erotic daydream when she felt something hard 
pressing rather insistently on her vulva from outside the 
thin material of her suit.

   "Oh, my!" the startled girl exclaimed as she jerked 
upright, her eyes flying open in shock.  She looked 
quickly down between her thighs but in the dim light she 
couldn't really see what it was without making a big deal 
out of it.  She reached down between her thighs and felt 
a small, soft piece of  round leather which had risen up 
slightly from the seat.  Darn it, anyway!  What a place 
for it to happen.  Oh well!  It was probably just that 
some of the seat cushion had bunched high up between her 
legs.  Gee, and in a car like this, she thought.  Who 
would have believed it?  Bad upholstery!

   "How do you feel, Cynthia? You seem nervous," Mickey 
asked kindly.

   "I'm okay," the blonde gasped, as she quickly tried to 
come out of the sexual fog she had been enjoying.  "I'm 
just a bit tired from this morning."

   "Of course you are, honey.  Why don't you lie back, 
Cynthia, and let June help you."

   "Help me what?"  the innocent teenager asked as she 
obediently lay back down, careful to position her hips as 
far from that bump in the cushion as possible.  Cynthia 
was starting to dimly realize that perhaps it was 
possible to get too excited, especially when you are in a 
car with total strangers for company.  Even if they were 
frumpy women.

   "To relax, silly.  Now close your eyes and be still 
like a good girl." 

   "And Mama will show you a really great time," Mickey 
dreamed.
   

   Cynthia closed her eyes and waited for what was to 
come next.  She hadn't the faintest idea where they were 
driving to and, at the moment, didn't really care.  The 
darkened interior made her feel quite safe.  It was like 
being back home in her own room.  The expensive alcohol 
she had drunk was coursing freely through her system, 
putting her in a very relaxed mood, indeed.  The car ride 
was wonderful, the suit was wonderful, if a bit 
revealing, and the seat she was in (except for that 
darned bump which seemed to be slowly growing between her 
thighs) was truly an experience to be savored.  These 
people were taking real good care of her, concerned for 
her every need.  

   It was a good feeling and she was not anxious for it 
to end.

   June leaned over from the back seat and began to work 
on Cynthia's smooth shoulders.  She saw how high in the 
seat the girl had positioned herself, and was slowly 
pushing the naive teenager back towards the front of the 
car, and the slowly growing seat dildo.

   "By the way, how do you like the suit?"  asked June as 
she continued to work on the girl.  "It's one of our most 
popular models."

   "The suit fits fine," Cynthia breathed as she felt the 
exquisite pressing of the thin straps into her flesh as 
she was moved forward in the seat.  "It just that I've 
never had suit that was so exposed before."

   "That's funny.  It is the most covered one we have."

   "My goodness!  What's left to show?"

   "You would be surprised, kid.  If there is time when 
you come back tomorrow, I can show you, if you like."

   Cynthia thought guiltily about the fact that she 
hadn't, at least so far as she could remember, ever said 
that she would buy anything at the Bountiful Plantation.  
They had all been very nice to her and everything, but 
still!  She didn't even remember hearing anything about a 
price.  

   Cynthia soon felt that darned bump again,  pressing up 
against her crotch, and tried to wiggle back up the seat.  
But she found that June's well-intentioned massage of her 
shoulders was keeping her from moving up and away from 
it, and was even forcing Cynthia to push harder against 
it. 
 
   Cynthia's mind completely forgot about the bump though 
as soon as she felt June's hands begin to trace the base 
of Cynthia's proud, firm breasts which were completely 
exposed in the bathing suit she was given to wear.  The 
girl held her breath as she mentally followed the hands 
as they worked completely around the base of her full 
breasts, breathing a sigh of relief only when June 
returned her hands to Cynthia's shoulders.

   The next time she felt the hands leave her shoulders 
for her breasts, Cynthia wasn't nearly so alarmed.  The 
third time it happened she was able to enjoy the 
sensations without a care.

   Mickey had by this time set Cynthia's seat dildo to 
begin a very slight but rhythmic tapping on the girl's 
vulnerable cunt.

   The seat and suit continued their work on the 
increasingly distressed teenager.  Nothing that she could 
think of worked to keep Cynthia from feeling increasingly 
excited, even sexy.  "I feel like I'm turning myself on," 
she thought.  "Is that even possible? Or maybe its just a 
fever?"
 
   Even worse, every so often June would do as Cynthia 
herself had dreamed of doing to herself earlier-- pulling 
on the straps covering her highly sensitive breasts and 
crotch.  Whenever that happened, and it always took the 
befuddled teenager by surprise, it was all Cynthia could 
do not to cry out.

   On top of everything else, something was happening 
between her thighs.  Her pussy had started to pulse and 
it was driving her crazy!  She tried to stop it by 
tightly squeezing her thighs together, but there was a 
bump in the seat  that always intruded.  She kept trying 
to move away from it, but June's unending massage kept 
pushing her onto it.  Eventually it caused the stretch 
material covering her crotch to push into her pussy lips.  
Cynthia knew that she was terribly, terribly wet down 
there and could only pray that her suit would dry off 
before they arrived. 
 
   June had reached under the teenager's golden hair, now 
in disarray, and had untied the neck strap which was the 
upper suit's only support.  The straps of the useless 
garment were now laying about the waist of the writhing 
teenager.  June was massaging Cynthia's full breasts 
directly now, but Cynthia did not notice.  The sensations 
rising to her feverish brain from her overheated pussy 
were a total distraction.  The pulsing had gotten more 
intense, thanks to Mickey turning up the power, and 
Cynthia was going out of her mind!  


   Mickey looked down at the blonde teenager laying next 
to her.  She remembered with exacting clarity the 
contempt the beautiful girl had shown her earlier that 
day, simply because she thought that she was a clerk in a 
store and for no other reason.  Mickey knew she could 
simply end the squirming girl's torment right now and let 
her cum, or have her dangle a bit longer.  Mickey smiled 
grimly to herself.  "Let the spoiled bitch dangle!"

   After taking a fast look at the traffic around her, 
Mickey reached over and with her right hand quickly moved 
aside the thoroughly soaked crotch band of Cynthia's now 
loosened suit, just enough to let the sculptured tip of 
the small seat dildo have direct contact on the 
teenager's vulnerable cunt.  "Let's see what the spoiled 
brat does with this!"  she murmured darkly as she 
adjusted the dildo's settings.


   At the same time, June turned her attentions to the 
squirming girl's erect nipples.  She teased each nipple 
even more erect with her thumbs, then began to seriously 
tweak and pull on the hypersensitive tips.  Cynthia went 
mad!  The electric shocks her mind was getting from her 
poor nipples distracted her from all other 
considerations.  In her efforts to escape from these 
overwhelming sensations, she unknowingly worked her hips 
farther down the seat, thereby causing the dildo to push 
slightly between the unsuspecting girl's vulnerable 
cuntlips.  Cynthia was totally focused on her tortured 
nipples and did not notice.

   She was finally able to gasp, "June!  What...  
AAhhh...What are you doing...OOhhhh....To me?"

   "Just part of the treatment Mickey wanted for you.  
You know, a simple massage.  Why, haven't you ever had 
one before?"

   The dildo head, now thoroughly coated with Cynthia's 
vaginal lubricants and helped by her gyrations, slipped a 
little deeper between the still unknowing girl's cunt 
lips.

   After a particularly sharp flick of a nail on each 
nipple (June was enjoying herself) Cynthia's whole body 
jumped.  It was finally then that she felt that something 
unbelievably hard had actually entered her from below!

   In panic, Cynthia tried to rise and reach with both 
hands for her crotch, but June kept her pressed against 
the seat-back.

   "My God!" said June in mock astonishment.  
"Something's the matter with Cynthia!"

   "What's wrong, honey?" inquired Mickey, politely.

   Cynthia, in her emotional turmoil and sensory 
overload, could only gasp out, "The seat!  It's the 
seat!!"

   "You want the seat up, honey?  Okay, no problem."

   "NO!"  shouted Cynthia, as soon as she was able to 
realize just what that could mean for her.  But it was 
too late.  Mickey had already joyously flicked the switch 
and Cynthia's seat-back sprang to a full upright 
position!

   The seat-back immediately pushed the poor protesting 
girl's hips forward on the seat.  This of course had the 
effect of impaling poor Cynthia's unprotected cunt 
completely on Mickey's small remote-controlled dildo.

   "AAAAHHHHH!!"    

  Frantic with the effort, the teenager tried to escape 
from whatever it was that was impaling her from below.  

   Meanwhile, as soon as she realized she had finally 
achieved penetration, Mickey had increased the dildo to 
its full (for the Small Setting) length.

   However hard the panicked 18-year old tried, she could 
not escape the object now inside her.  In fact the 
squirming teenager's movements only served to seat her 
more completely on it.  To the twin delight of Mickey and 
June, Cynthia was now absolutely caught, absolutely 
helpless, absolutely theirs to do with as they pleased!

  "Ooowww!  I can't get it out and it hurts!" wailed the 
stricken innocent as she kept trying to lift herself off 
the now deeply embedded dildo.

   Mickey dropped the seat-back again, but this time 
Cynthia remained upright, terrified of the effect any 
sudden moves might have on her, but still determined to 
remove this foreign object from her body. 

   Quickly taking advantage of her predicament, June 
pulled the untied swimsuit from the unaware Cynthia's 
body and crumpled it into a ball on the car's floor.

  "Stay still, will you, and tell me what's the matter!" 
commanded Mickey.  "Hold her still, June, will you, while 
I pull over somewhere."

   Happy to oblige, June grabbed the bouncing teenager 
solidly around her narrow waist and held her firmly on 
the dildo.

   "AAAhhhhhh!  Get it out!  Get it out!" Cynthia moaned 
as she felt the embedded object seem to fill the entire 
length of her poor stretched vagina.

   Mickey pulled into her driveway and parked in front of 
the screened pool area located behind the house.  Unknown 
to Cynthia, Mickey had in fact been circling her house 
out in the desert for the past fifteen minutes.

   "Raise up, honey, so we can see what you're caught 
on."

   "I can't move.  It hurts!"

   "Yes you can too move.  Now be a good girl and just 
try and stand up."

   "I can't!!"

   "Yes you can.  Listen to me, Cynthia.  You're not 
really hurt.  You're just surprised, that's all.  Now, 
try and get up."

   "Ohh...  Okay."
   
   The calming but still distressed teenager carefully 
planted her feet on the floor of the car and slowly tried 
to stand up.  The two women could see Cynthia's inner 
thigh muscles straining with the effort as she raised 
herself only a few inches, until her head came up against 
the car's roof.

   "Okay, now bring yourself back down, slowly."

   "All right.  Now raise yourself again."

   "And down."

   "Now, Cynthia, are you still hurting?  Be honest, 
girl!"

   "Sniff...sniff.  No.  It doesn't hurt as much now.  
But I feel so full!"  Her cunt muscles were becoming use 
to the unfamiliar mass and were stretching to accommodate 
it.

   "That's all right.  Now, you must keep raising and 
lowering yourself until June and I can figure out how to 
get you loose from the seat here.

   "Do I have to? It's not very easy to do, you know.  
And besides, I feel so funny down there every time I 
move."

   "You'll be fine.  It looks like you're stuck on a 
piece of the seat's foam rubber, but we can't be sure 
unless you raise yourself a bit," Mickey said reasonably.

   She leaned over and to Cynthia's horror placed her 
face directly in front of and about half an inch away 
from the trapped girl's pussy.  A little more harshly she 
said, "You know, I just hope you haven't ruined the 
leather."

   "Oh my God!" the thoroughly distressed girl thought.  
"She noticed my darned secretions!  Darn that old bathing 
suit, anyway!  Next time I'll do the picking."

   "Now get started",  Mickey softly commanded.

   Ashamed, demoralized, and totally without a clue as to 
how to get herself out of the unbelievable predicament 
she had gotten herself into, the nude teenager 
tentatively began her slow up and down motion, while 
Mickey in front and June from behind crowed as close to 
the poor girl as they could.  

   The sensations she had felt earlier in the day were 
nothing compared to the currently radiating from her poor 
abused pussy.  Try as she might, she could still not lift 
herself off of the entrapping foam rubber.  She could 
only follow Mickey's instructions and hope that they will 
soon find a way to get her free of this before her legs 
gave out.
   
   Mickey produced a small yet powerful flashlight from 
the glove compartment and Cynthia felt waves of 
humiliation as her most private of places, especially in 
this most embarrassing of circumstances, was illuminated 
for all the world to see!  It was only then she noticed 
and started to worry about her missing bathing suit.

   With her smooth, tanned legs soon trembling with the 
strain, Cynthia kept raising and lowering herself over 
the seat, supporting herself with her arms on the 
dashboard in front of her.  How can it take them so long? 
she wondered.  There must be some way of getting this 
thing out of me.

   But it seemed there was no immediate solution for the 
poor girl's humiliating predicament.  Mickey would only 
tell her that the object inside her felt very smooth and 
that she was in no danger from it, what ever it was.  But 
it was very important for her to keep moving, otherwise 
they might never be able to figure it out and would have 
to give Papadakis a call for assistance.

   "Oh, no!   You can't do that!"

   "Then keep moving, girl!   We are almost done."

   They also used other ways to keep the teenager 
motivated.  

   Whenever she tried to stop, June would smack her 
smartly on her exposed buttocks, or reach around her 
sweaty torso and give the girl's proud erect nipples a 
good tweak!  With each smack, Cynthia's hips would jerk 
involuntarily forward, causing that thing caught between 
her thighs to move even farther in her.  Her nipples were 
so sensitive after June's earlier administrations, 
Cynthia only saw pinwheels each time June did something 
to them.  Faced with these alternatives, she decided just 
to keep moving!

   In the close confines of the car, Cynthia found 
herself becoming very warm, even hot.  Her continued 
exertions soon caused her to be covered in sweat.  She 
could feel the moisture almost pouring down her nude 
body: down the side of her face, between her swelling 
breasts, and over her ribs.
   
   It wasn't just the physical aspects of moving up and 
down in the car that was causing this.  Cynthia began to 
notice that something strange was happening between her 
thighs.  A heat new to the inexperienced teenager was 
building there.  This heat was spreading from her lower 
belly to the rest of her body.  Her secretions were 
flowing at an unbelievable rate as she continued to move 
over the seat.  Even worse, with each movement of her 
hips, her vagina now appeared to be actively clutching 
what ever it was that had violated her most private area.  

   "My God!" she thought.  "What's going on down there?  
What's happening to me?"  Something was building inside 
of her, and she couldn't stop it. 
  
   Her perfect, well disciplined body was rapidly 
spinning out of control.  It had never felt more 
sensitive.  She could feel the slightest touch.  The 
shaking of her firm breasts was causing her to wish 
reverently for the first time in her life for a bra.

   Mickey noticed that Cynthia finally wasn't protesting 
anymore.  She was in fact moving faster, her firm tits 
bouncing joyously every time she changed direction.  Her 
wide-open blue eyes had a glazed look, her face 
reflective of the concentration that the blonde was now 
putting into her efforts.  The two older women could only 
watch with awe as Cynthia worked her way to the final 
stretch!

   Up and down the beautiful teenager went as she 
instinctively intensified her thrusts, grunting at each 
stunning impact, buttocks quivering upon the unknown 
tormentor lodged in her hopelessly impaled vagina.  
Everything was now forgotten except the monstrous need 
that was roaring out of control within her burning loins.  

   The pain from her pistoning, growing in her knees and 
thighs, faded to insignificance.  A trickle of saliva 
crept unknowing down the left side of her chin as the 
gasping Cynthia fought for oxygen.

   Finally, Cynthia's overloaded nervous system could 
take no more.  With an ear-splitting "EEEEK!" the shocked 
blonde teenager was overwhelmed by her first orgasm!  
Panicked, not knowing what was happening within her, 
Cynthia thought she was having a heart attack and 
promptly fainted, slumping over the front of the seat, 
her spasming vagina still deeply impaled on the seat 
dildo.   "OOPS!" said the grinning Mickey.

   They led the dazed and exhausted teenager from the car 
to the secluded pool area located behind Mickey's house.

   Cynthia dully saw that they were headed for a plain 
shower head extending from the back wall, but the curtain 
was missing.  Even so, they stopped the mind-blown 
Cynthia in front of the outdoor shower.  As June 
undressed behind Cynthia's back, Mickey adjusted the 
water and pushed Cynthia into the warm stream of water. 
The young girl could only lean forward against the wall 
at a 45-degree angle, resting on her hands, and let the 
refreshing water pour over her.  She didn't have the 
understanding or strength to do anything else.

   "Oh, that feels good!" she said, as she slowly began 
to recover some of her senses.  It felt great just to 
stand there underneath the pounding water.  She didn't 
even care if she was completely naked outside.  She was 
sure that Mickey and June would take care of her.

   "Let's get you cleaned off, honey," June said as she 
joined Cynthia in the shower and started to lather 
Cynthia's back.  Cynthia stiffened a moment.  She was 
after in the shower, but June's hands felt so good on her 
that she soon relaxed.  Besides, she thought dreamily, 
she's just doing my back.  Mickey, seeing the teenager 
relax, quickly undressed and began soaping the shoulders 
and arms of the unresisting teenager.
   
   It was when Mickey began working on Cynthia's still 
highly sensitive breasts that she began to wonder if she 
shouldn't be washing herself at this point.  She tried to 
straighten up but June behind her growled over the 
cascading water, "Hold still.  I'm not done with your 
back yet.  Now, close your eyes because I'll soon be 
doing your hair."

   So Cynthia closed her eyes and remained greatly tilted 
against the shower wall, enjoying the soothing feel of 
the water, really unaware that she was now taking a 
shower with two naked women.  Her dangling breasts were 
receiving all sorts of tingling attention from Mickey's 
soaping hands.  June meanwhile had moved to Cynthia's 
firm jutting buttocks.  From there she shifted to 
Cynthia's long, perfectly formed legs, where June knelt 
and wedged one shoulder between Cynthia's firm thighs to 
spread her legs apart. 

   When June stood up to do Cynthia's hair, Mickey knelt 
down hungrily in front of Cynthia's golden triangle.  
Through the cascading water, the redness of the girl's 
pussy lips was clearly visible, still affected from her 
recent workout with the 
dildo.  

   She carefully soaped the inside of the girl's 
wide-spread thighs, then moved up to begin an almost 
ritualistic soaping of Cynthia's pubic hair.  While her 
left hand was so engaged, her right crept between the 
girl's thighs and began teasing the vulnerable pussy 
lips.  Soon her middle finger had invaded the tight 
passage.  The finger began a rhythmic motion.  As 
Cynthia's vaginal fluids once again started to flow, 
Mickey added a second and then a third finger to stir the 
girl's rapidly warming honey pot.

   Cynthia felt something happening between her thighs 
again   She knew that someone, probably Mickey, was 
washing her down there but there wasn't anything she 
could do about it.  And the strange heat was returning, 
causing her to think of nothing else.
   
   Mickey, unable to stand it any longer, withdrew her 
fingers and pressed her lips to Cynthia's vagina.  She 
kissed and sucked on the vulnerable pussy, savoring the 
girl's clean magical smells and juices, until she could 
feel Cynthia trembling with excitement.

   June started rinsing the soap off the increasingly 
aroused blonde coed.  Saving the breasts for last,  June 
pressed her body firmly against Cynthia's.  She then 
reached around and held each full breast firmly, thumb 
and forefinger of each hand manipulating the already 
eagerly erect nipples.

   Her face finally clear of soap, the distraught 
teenager opened her eyes and looked down between her 
abused breasts to see what was going on, but all she 
could see at first in the pouring water was the top of 
Mickey's wet head.  Then she noticed with horror the 
woman's face pressed tightly against her lower belly, 
with her nose now completely buried in Cynthia's pubic 
hair!.  What was that woman doing to her down there?

   "Ahhh...hello.  I...think I'm...I'm...clean now," 
Cynthia stammered, overwhelmed with her emotions once 
again.

   "We'll be finished in a minute, honey.  Mickey's just 
making sure you were not hurt in the car, you know."

   "AH!" gasped Cynthia as her abused vagina suddenly 
clenched, drenching Mickey's mouth with her delectable 
essence, while her educated mouth did all it could to 
prolong the experience for Cynthia. The orgasm rocked 
Cynthia completely.  She could think of nothing, nothing 
at all.  Only her pulsing suddenly out-of-control vagina 
was important. 
  
   It had never acted this way before.  "What is wrong 
with me?" she wondered.

   "Done!" said Mickey with satisfaction, as she stood 
and washed her face clean.  When she was finished, she 
turned off the water and turned to look at her prize.  
The beautiful Cynthia had her arms around June and was 
softly crying, their naked bodies pressed tightly 
together.

   "Come on, honey.  Time to get dried off," June said 
gently, as she put her arm around Cynthia's narrow waist 
and let her hand rest on a convenient buttock.

   "Oh.  Okay," sniffed the teenager.  Expecting to 
finally go inside, Cynthia was surprised to find them 
leading her towards the pool area.

   They took the dazed and still naked Cynthia out to one 
of the pool side lounge chairs, the only one that was 
protected by a large beach umbrella.

   "Could I have a towel or something?" Cynthia weakly 
murmured.  "I don't want to get burned." 

   "Well, we don't usually keep that kind of thing out 
here," June explained.  "You'll be perfectly safe 
underneath the umbrella."

   "Why don't you rest here, honey, while I get you a 
towel," Mickey said kindly as June and her laid the 
obviously exhausted Cynthia full length on the chair.  
"You'll find it's very cool here in the shade."

   "Yes.  Thank you.  I'm very tired," murmured the 
shattered girl.  She had nothing left to give. She had 
never felt so drained, either emotionally or physically.  
The chair felt very relaxing, and she quickly got over 
her nervousness about being naked with them by the pool.

   Cynthia immediately drifted off to a sound sleep to 
the surprising soothing effect of having her long blonde 
hair brushed by June.



Bountiful Plantation: Part III of VI

   June continued her therapeutic brushing while Mickey 
quietly moved the umbrella so that the full force of the 
desert sun was now upon Cynthia's vulnerable, lush body.

   Mickey smiled wickedly at the peacefully sleeping 
teenager and watched the girl's perfect breasts start to 
rhythmically rise and fall.  

   "All in good time, my pretty," she said, as she went 
back to the house to prepare for the next phase of 
Cynthia's education.

  June waited until she was sure the girl was sound 
asleep.  She put aside the brush and picked up a special 
bottle of lotion which was always kept by the pool for 
such occasions.  June repositioned herself at the foot of 
the lounge chair and started slowly applying the fragrant 
liquid to Cynthia's toes and then moving up her slim feet 
and ankles.

   The strong sun quickly dried the water from Cynthia's 
firm, tanned flesh.  Totally without protection, her skin 
began to tingle with the heat.  In her dream, she was 
alone at the beach, laying naked in the sand.  She knew 
the tide must be coming in, because she could feel the 
warm water lapping at her toes, and then slowly moving up 
her feet and ankles.  As the water came higher up, the 
waves gently worked her legs apart.  Soon she dimly 
realized that her legs were spread more than she thought 
modest, but in her dream she knew she was covered by the 
water and was safe.   


   June continued to spread the now-heated lotion lightly 
on the warm firm flesh laying before her, confidently 
working her way up the girl's long shapely legs.  She 
looked with longing at the neatly trimmed, hair-lined 
slit nestled between Cynthia's thighs, but continued her 
steady pace up the girl's legs.


   Cynthia felt the warm, dreamy water move up over her 
thighs and onto her hips.  Strangely, the waves halted 
there for a time, playing about her sensitive pubic area.  
They made her feel very creamy inside and she opened her 
legs more to give the naughty waves greater access to her 
sex.  She even started to move her hips a little, to 
offer the water a silent encouragement.  Under the water, 
who could tell what was happening?

   The wave action became so intense, so delightful on 
her vulva that she could sense she was on the verge of 
wakefulness.  She did not want to wake.  Quite the 
contrary.  

   "This is such a wonderful dream," she thought, her 
mind unknowingly floating on a sea of arousing 
sensations.  "I wish it could just go on and on!"

   Sadly for Cynthia, the water resumed its steady 
journey up her body, and she returned to her deep, 
satisfying sleep.

   The waves lapped over her narrow waist, and firm 
stomach, after playing a bit in her deep belly button.  
They covered her rib cage and then started doing 
delightful things to her breasts.
  
   "MMmmmmm," she moaned.  "This water really knows my 
spots!" she thought.  "I must come here more often."

   The water paused for some time at her breasts before 
moving up her shoulders and neck.

   Cynthia started to worry about having to move.  Nice 
though this spot on the beach was, she certainly didn't 
want to drown there.  

   In her dreams she then heard a disembodied voice say, 
"Now turn over, honey."

   She automatically replied, 

   "Okay, Mom," for who else would be so near to her when 
she was sleeping?  

   Cynthia obediently turned over and sensed the exciting 
waves on the back of her neck and shoulders.  When she 
felt them work their way from her shoulders and down her 
back, she knew she was safe again.  Besides, her Mother 
was here with her at the beach and would protect her from 
harm.

   The waves moved down her back to her buttocks, where 
they again played for some time.  For a moment they tried 
to work their way into her anus, but there were some 
places Cynthia felt that even naughty waves should not 
go!  She used her hands to quickly brush the inquisitive 
water away from there.  

   While her hands were behind her, Cynthia was startled 
when she felt something warm and slippery on her 
buttocks.  She suddenly awoke, feeling breathless and 
confused.

   Her wide eyes stared uncomprehending at the pool.  "I 
wonder who has a pool like that?" she thought.  "How 
embarrassing.  I have no idea where I am!"

   She turned her head and saw June in a robe, sitting 
patiently on the foot of her lounge chair.  

   "Oh my!" the shocked Cynthia gasped as she suddenly 
remembered just where she was, and how she got there.  
"I've got to get out of here!" she thought and jumped up 
from the chair.  

   The world then started to tilt out of control.

   Feeling terribly dizzy from having too much sun and 
champagne, Cynthia could hardly stand.  She stood 
weaving, her beautiful nude body glistening in the sun.

   Taking her by the arm, June led the dazed teenager 
through the back door of the large, ranch-style house and 
toward the small kitchen.

   In the cool dark of the house, the bewildered teenager 
noticed something was different about her, but wasn't 
sure what it was.  She then realized her entire body was 
absolutely greased!

   "Euuuhh!  I'm all slippery!" she cried.

   "Yes," June told her.  "Special suntan lotion.  It's 
imported for the store from Europe.  You'll like it, it's 
very expensive."

   Cynthia noticed her skin was developing a slight 
tingling sensation under the lotion.  "It makes me 
feel...funny."  The rubbing of her oiled thighs as she 
walked was also causing some interesting sensations to 
develop, but she wasn't going to tell anyone about those!

   "That's just the different herbs and spices they use 
to make it.  Don't worry, you'll get used to it.  In 
fact, you'll find it's really quite soothing." 



   They met Mickey, wearing a bathrobe, busy loading a 
tray in the kitchen.

   "Ah, there you two are!" cried Mickey.  "Cynthia, you 
are just in time to help out with the tea."

   "What?" the befuddled Cynthia asked.

   "Here, hold this," said Mickey, giving the nude 
Cynthia an ornate wooden tray loaded with tea pot, cups, 
saucers, and a dish of small sandwiches.

   "Hey, it's heavy!" complained the girl.

   "Yes, it probably is," Mickey agreed.  "Now, follow 
us," she commanded as she and June then led the still 
confused Cynthia towards the door leading out to the pool 
area.  

   Seeing Mickey and June both wearing bathrobes, Cynthia 
suddenly became very conscious of her nudity.  

   Cynthia stopped before the door.  "Could I join you 
after I get dressed, please??" she pleaded. 
 
   "I wish you could, there is nothing available."

   "WHAT?"

   "Well, remember that swim suit that June was so kind 
to lend you?  You had SOILED it so badly it's in the 
washer right now."

   "I just hope it's not ruined!" snapped June.  "It's 
very expensive."

   Cynthia bowed her head in shame at being reminded of 
her body's unspeakable behavior in Mickey's expensive 
car.

   "But... But what about my clothes?" Cynthia timidly 
asked as she fidgeted in her nudity.

   "They're here, but you managed to get your 'stuff' on 
them as well, so they are also being cleaned."

   "But...but...but how about a bath towel or something?"

   "There is nothing.  Take my word for it.  Now, you 
might as well be useful and come along with us."

   "Okay," Cynthia finally grumbled in her best petulant 
brat manner.  "Might as well," she thought.  "Like I 
haven't been bare-assed all day already!"

   "And that's another thing," Mickey said, standing in 
the doorway.  "From now on, June and I will be addressed 
as Ma'am.  Understand?"

   "What!" The spoiled teenager stopped in her tracks.  

   She couldn't believe what she had just heard.  Mickey 
couldn't be serious.  She just couldn't!  She was just a 
salesperson.  She couldn't tell her what to do!  Besides, 
Cynthia hated anything to do with authority.  She always 
saw herself as a free spirit, and was totally against 
those who were always trying to spoil her fun!

   "No way!" she exclaimed.

   "Well!" she thought, furious at this presumptuous 
behavior in an underling.  "It's time we straightened a 
few things out here around here."  Forgetting about her 
nudity in her frenzy of righteous indignation, Cynthia 
turned to the side and bent over to place the tray on a 
small table by the door.

   Mickey however, did not for get Cynthia's nudity at 
all.  She eyed the proffered target and struck, once.    

   SMACK!

   Cynthia's sponge-rubber buttocks quivered from the 
force of the blow, while in her blue eyes tears began to 
form.

   Shocked and in pain, Cynthia dropped the tray on the 
table with a loud crash and spun around, her proud 
breasts heaving in indignation.

   "OW! THAT HURT!" the outraged girl exclaimed as she 
rubbed her wounded pride with her hands.

   "No kidding," June murmured.  

   "I'm going to tell on you," Cynthia sniffed.

   "Sure, go ahead.  Tell whomever you like," replied 
Mickey calmly.  "Then, of course, we'll have to tell how 
you ruined a $500-designer swim suit with your disgusting 
SECRETIONS, not to mention another $800 or so needed to 
replace the upholstery in MY car, which you also probably 
ruined.  And that's just for starters.  Shall I 
continue?"

   Cynthia, tears streaming down her face, saw her life 
shattered, her reputation ruined, her parents exiled from 
their clubs, and all because her body betrayed her by 
getting juicy at the wrong time.  It wasn't her fault!

   "That's not fair," the blonde teenager whimpered 
piteously, still rubbing her pride.

   "Sure it is," Mickey said reasonably.  "Here's a 
tissue.  Now, blow your nose and let's go have some tea."

   "Okay," Cynthia sniffed, dropping the used tissue on 
the floor.

   "Ma'am," added Mickey.

   "You're still not serious about that, are you?  Do I 
have to?  I really don't want to, it sounds so silly!"

   Mickey raised her right hand.  "That's okay with me.  
Just remember though, every time you don't, you'll be 
spanked.  By me!"

   "All right, all right!"  Cynthia exclaimed, holding 
her hands protectively over her vulnerable buttocks.  
Then, remembering, she mumbled, "Ma'am."

   By the pool, Mickey and June settled themselves 
comfortably on chairs located under one of the many small 
umbrellas which lined the pool.  The only place available 
for Cynthia under the umbrella was directly between the 
two chairs.  Cynthia looked for a place to set the tray 
down, but there was no table to be found anywhere around 
them.  

   "Where do I put the tray,...ma'am?" she asked 
plaintively, because it was starting to become heavy for 
her to hold.

   "Seems we're a bit cramped today.  Guess you'll just 
have to hold it for us."

   "What?"  

   "I said for you to hold it.  And don't go and drop it 
again!  That tea set is from Japan, and would be very 
expensive for you to replace."

   "But..." Cynthia started to protest, then quickly 
stopped when she saw Mickey raise her right hand.

   "Some tea and sandwiches, my dear?" Mickey asked June.

   "Certainly," June replied, taking the offered cup and 
saucer.  "Could you lower the tray a bit, Cynthia.  Just 
bend over, that's a good girl."

   Cynthia obediently bent over and June took her time 
picking through the sandwiches, occasionally brushing the 
tips of Cynthia's breasts which were now dangling over 
the tray.

   "Nice day," observed June, deliberately flicking one 
of Cynthia's erect nipples before sitting back in her 
chair.  She sat content, holding her tea and occasionally 
nibbling a sandwich.

   "Perfect," replied Mickey, quietly sipping her tea, 
admiring the beautiful oiled body standing next to her.

   As the two women enjoyed their tea in the still 
country afternoon, Cynthia was having problems.  The tray 
was really starting to hurt her arms, although it became 
easier to hold once the small pot was emptied.  But every 
time she tried to straighten up, someone wanted 
something, so eventually she just stayed bent over.  The 
problem was, that as her back grew more and more tired, 
she kept bending over farther and farther.  Eventually 
she found herself completely bent over at the waist, with 
the tray on the ground!

   "Uh, ma'am?" the plaintive Cynthia called.  "Can I let 
go of this stupid tray now?"

   "First of all, it is "May I" and not "Can I".  
Understand?"

   "Bitch," muttered Cynthia.

   "What was that, dear?"

   "MAY I let go of this... tray now?"

   "No, you may not.  I'm sure we'll be needing something 
before too long, so you might as well stay ready for it."

   "At least I don't have to carry the darn thing now," 
Cynthia thought with satisfaction, although having to 
stay holding the tray in this ridiculous position was 
making her feel very dizzy.

   She wasn't sure what it was, but something was making 
her very, very nervous.  Her nipples had grown and firmed 
into excruciating hardness.  She could feel a new 
heaviness in her vagina, which told her that those darn 
old secretions of hers had started up again.

   It wasn't her fault!  She wasn't doing anything!  She 
was just standing there, holding that stupid tray, and 
wearing only a thick coating of suntan oil.

   The sensations slowly continued to grow within the 
unsuspecting teenager.  She felt a strange burning within 
her, like a terrible itch she couldn't scratch.  Her 
privates seemed especially affected by it.  Cynthia had 
the strangest desire to grab hold of her crotch right 
then and there and try to relieve this growing burning 
sensation.

   "Maybe if I just think about something else," she 
reasoned, "it will all go away."  She tried desperately 
to think of anything except the sensations building up 
inside her, but could not.

   "Oh my!"  Her thoughts fled when she definitely felt 
something on her left buttock!

   "Yes, Cynthia?"

   "There's something touching...me in back.  Ma'am," she 
added hastily after Mickey briefly held up her left index 
finger in warning.

   "Yes, that's me.  I am checking your bruise.  How does 
it feel?"

   Cynthia didn't know which was the more embarrassing, 
being touched in public or having been reminded of the 
fact she had been recently (and cruelly) beaten on her 
behind.

   "It's fine!" she gasped as Mickey's wandering hand 
worked its casual way over her buttocks and into the 
crevice separating them.

   "And how about everything else?"  June asked.

   "What else, Ma'am?" squeaked Cynthia as Mickey's 
fingers started to play around her puckered anus.

   "Well, this!" June replied.

   "OH!" the shocked Cynthia shouted as a hand easily 
slid its way between her oiled thighs and pressed itself 
against her exposed vulva.

   She was so dizzy from being bent over, so overwhelmed 
from the effects of the special lotion on her body, the 
teenager didn't know what to do.  She could only act 
reflexively, without thinking.  Cynthia jerked her hips 
back to escape this unseemly contact, and managed to 
impale her puckered anus deep onto Mickey's thumb!

   "AAAHH!" she gasped, as her hips jerked forward, 
impaling her vagina on June's waiting fingers.

   "NOOO!" Cynthia cried as she tried to fight her double 
impalement.  But try as she might, her movements to 
escape one invasion of her person only served to deepen 
the other.

   She was helplessly trapped between the cunning fingers 
of the two women.  Cynthia was literally in the palms of 
their hands.

   They pried the tray from Cynthia's nerveless fingers 
and moved it out of the way, but she never noticed, so 
intent was she on her double impalement.  Mickey and June 
teased the jerking girl mercilessly, deliberately 
bringing her to the edge of climax several times.  Each 
woman clamped her mouth on one of the teenager's swollen, 
dancing breasts and joyfully suckled them, while they 
tormented the erect nipples with their teeth and tongues. 

    Cynthia, swept away by the competent fury of the 
assault, could only moan as her senses were flooded by 
erotic sensations.  It shouldn't happen this way, she 
knew, but at last her unbelievable itch was finally being 
soothed, and for that she was secretly grateful to her 
tormentors.  And how!

    Carefully primed by the seductive effects of the 
lotion, Cynthia no longer fought to escape her 
predicament.  Mindlessly, she moved now to only to 
enhance the effects of the intruders within her.

    The orgasm struck with a devastating fury on the 
helpless blonde.  Her knees buckled and she would have 
fallen if Mickey and June hadn't been there to help her 
remain standing.  Her chest heaved as her tortured lungs 
fought for air, while her pulsing vagina held June's 
intruding fingers in a vise-like grip.  

   "OOOooohhh!" Cynthia moaned in ecstasy as her body 
started to recover from her climax.  The terrible 
building of sensations within her had been finally 
checked, and it felt wonderful to her.

   Her feelings of relief quickly died however, when she 
felt herself being built-up again!  This surprising 
revelation was destroyed with the onslaught of her 
quickly induced second orgasm.  Her young body drained of 
strength, she could only collapse on the ground and wait 
until the powerful sensations radiating from her crotch 
and anus finally died down.

   But the sensations did not die at all.  The two women 
quickly flipped the helpless teenager on her back.  June 
positioned herself between Cynthia's splayed thighs and 
started to lick the girl's oiled labia.

   Mickey moved the chairs out from underneath the 
umbrella, and then knelt directly over the girl's face.  
She lowered her hips until her shaved pussy was 
suggestively rubbing Cynthia's lips.

   The befuddled Cynthia started to tentatively kiss and 
lick the strange lips now pressed against hers, not 
knowing what person with the strange face and even 
stranger breath was on hers.  Her dazed mind was further 
stunned when she realized in her confusion that each of 
her efforts was answered by a very pleasurable sensation 
coming from her crotch.  "My God!"  she thought.  "I'm 
licking myself!  Talk about cool!"

   Cynthia used her hands and held tight to the moving 
hips over her head.  She placed her mouth firmly on the 
vulva above her and wouldn't let go after that.  Her 
mouth became more and more enthusiastic as the answering 
sensations continued to build from below.  She had no 
idea how such a thing as being able to lick yourself was 
even possible, but she was determined to take advantage 
of it while it lasted.  She kissed, nibbled, sucked, 
tongued, and generally had a wonderful time with, as she 
thought, making love to herself.

   June kept the writhing teenager in a near-constant 
state of climax as she continued her expert cunnilingus 
on the vulnerable pussy.  She teased the erect clitoris 
without mercy and she inserted her tongue deep into the 
tight, hot passage of the girl's vagina.

   Mickey fondled her own breasts as her jerking nude 
body rode the whirlwind of the teenager's voracious 
mouth.  Her mind was totally blown from Cynthia's highly 
enthusiastic version of oral sex, and she could only 
mutter occasionally, "I'm in love!  Oh, God!  I'm in 
love!"


   June's efforts finally reduced the passion-racked 
Cynthia to one final joyous spasm, then blessed 
unconsciousness.  Long before, Mickey, totally spent 
after her fifth orgasm, had to tear herself away, for the 
sake of her own sanity, from the deadly mouth below.  She 
crawled nude to one of the nearby chairs and collapsed on 
it in total satisfaction.

   Before she went to sleep, June heard her clearly say, 
"Phew!  That kid is dynamite!"

   June made sure her friend was protected from the sun 
before taking care of the prostrate Cynthia.  She placed 
the girl into another chair and dragged it alongside 
Mickey's underneath the shade.

    After making sure that all was well, June went into 
the house for a bath, a martini, and a few well-deserved 
orgasms of her own.



Bountiful Plantation: Part IV of VI

   Cynthia awoke feeling chilled to the bone.  She found 
herself alone next to the pool.  It was already night 
and, except for the dim underwater pool lights, the only 
illumination came from millions of stars revealed in the 
crystal desert sky.

   She would have enjoyed the sight had not the memory of 
the day's events returned to her then.  She thought 
dismally of what had taken place here by the pool.  She 
had deliberately been used and abused by two women she 
felt were old enough to be her mother, if not her 
grandmother!  She must leave this place, and fast!  She 
would do whatever it took to escape from their evil (if 
surprisingly satisfying) clutches!  Yes, she would!

   As she walked toward the darkened house, Cynthia 
became aware that she was covered with a fine layer of 
dust and sand.  The oil with which she had been coated 
seemed to act as a collector for the stuff.   

   "That's just great," she thought.  "Now I'll really 
have to get washed up somewhere."

   To Cynthia's disappointment, the house was empty.  
There was only a note pinned to her clothes on the 
kitchen table.  It told of Mickey and June's return to 
the shop to deal with some crisis, and for Cynthia to 
lock up when she left.  She saw with relief that her keys 
and handbag were also on the table.

   Still nude, she dashed to the front window, where she 
saw the familiar shape of her car in the drive.  "Thank 
God!" she breathed in relief.  "It's here!"

   She was returning to the kitchen when she realized she 
couldn't get dressed yet, not before she washed off this 
oil and dirt.  In the kitchen she picked up her 
belongings, and went in search of a bathroom.  She 
resolved not to let her things out of her sight for a 
moment.

   Finding the house's only bathroom, she quickly jumped 
in the clear-glass shower stall and turned the water on 
full.  She luxuriated in the feel of the pounding water 
for a moment, then began soaping a wash cloth.  Curious 
what had been done to her privates that afternoon, and 
concerned if such activity would leave any marks, Cynthia 
firmly applied the wash cloth to her hyper-sensitive 
vulva, determined to make herself squeaky clean there.

   She forgot the reason sand was widely used as an 
excellent abrasive material.

   "AAAHHH!"

   When Cynthia regained conciseness, she was much more 
careful in washing the sand and oil off her sensitive 
body.

   After her shower, Cynthia very carefully dried herself 
and then left the used towel on the floor.  She picked up 
her panties and saw the fine powder that June had placed 
there earlier in the day.  Thinking it was a kind of baby 
talcum, she was not surprised at the cooling effect the 
tight panties now had on her poor abused crotch.  

   "Oooh, that feels good," she murmured.

   Happily, she saw that the same substance was also in 
her bra cups.


   Cleaned and dressed, she considered writing a rude 
note before leaving.  "Better not," she thought as she 
checked her perfect reflection in the bathroom mirror one 
last time.  "The less time I have to stay in this 
horrible place the better."

   She walked quickly through the deserted house and went 
out the front door, not bothering to lock it.  She 
gratefully climbed into her car and, after starting it, 
took one last look at the house.

   "They'll never believe me," she said, as she wondered 
if she could ever tell her friends about what happened 
here today.  "Never."

   Cynthia roared out of the drive and onto a quiet 
residential street.  She suddenly realized she had no 
idea were she was, or how to get back to her home.

   "This is no time to worry about details!" she said, 
and sped on down the street.  Cynthia eventually worked 
her way out of the development and headed in what 
direction she hoped was West.

   She cried with joy when she finally saw the on-ramp 
for the freeway which led north to Eastwood Estates, and 
home.  

   Once on the interstate, Cynthia got into her 
comfortable freeway-driving mode.  She clicked on the 
cruise control and tucked her legs up on the seat.  She 
knew she could drive all day like this, even though her 
home was at most 30 minutes away.

   It was only when she was finally able to relax that 
she noticed something strange going on in her panties and 
bra.  Her crotch was not just cool anymore, it was 
feeling absolutely creamy.  Guiltily, she looked around 
to make sure no one was watching her, then tentatively 
touched her crotch band underneath her short skirt.  
Cynthia was shocked to discover she was positively soaked 
down there!

   "Oh, my God!  Not again!" she cried in frustration.

   Embarrassed once more by her body's betrayal, she 
brought her legs down and tightly crossed them, hoping to 
stem the flow of her darn old secretions until at least 
she got home.  If the back of her skirt became wet now, 
she didn't know what she could do.

   And her breasts!  They had never felt so swollen or 
sensitive within the confines of her bra cups.  She 
longed to take the constricting bra off as she realized 
she was now having trouble breathing.  The nipples were 
incredibly erect, with the consistency of diamonds.  
Cynthia felt they were only a moment away from bursting 
through the thin cloth of the tight bra cups and her top.

   She sensed sweat start to break out all over her body 
as her heart beat dramatically increased.  Cynthia felt 
she was running a foot-race while only sitting in her 
car!

   The teenager began to panic.  "What was happening to 
me?" she wondered.  

   She drove down the off-ramp leading to Eastwood 
Estates.  Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel 
as she started to rub her bare thighs together underneath 
her skirt to relieve the pressure building in her crotch.  

   When her car hit the inclined driveway leading to her 
home, the slight jolt of her vulva pressing on the seat 
was enough to start her to orgasm.  Shaking, she was just 
able to park in her spot in her home's multi-car garage 
and turn off the engine before she lost all control with 
her second climax.

   "Arruggh!" Cynthia cried as her helpless body shook 
from the fury of her spasms.

   Her jerking caused the back of the bucket seat to 
fall, and there the blonde teenager remained on her back 
with the front of her skirt up over her waist, her hands 
clutched tightly over the narrow crotch band of her 
panties, as she tried desperately the stop the endless 
succession of quakes engulfing her. 


   It was well after midnight when the exhausted teenager 
was finally able to drag herself out of her car and into 
the dark, sleeping house.  She found she could hardly 
walk, so sore was her vagina from the abuses of the day 
before.

   Cynthia staggered up the long flight of stairs and 
down the thickly-carpeted corridor to the sanctuary of 
her own room.  Feeling safe at last, she dropped her 
clothes where she stood and fell naked on the bed, not 
even troubling to pull down the covers.

   She had no idea what had happened to her in her car, 
but the troubled teenager knew it just had to be the work 
of that evil pair, Mickey and June of Bountiful 
Plantation.

   "Well!  Thank God, it's over!  I'll never see any of 
them again!," she thought with some satisfaction.  "And 
I'm certainly never going back to that store again, ever!  
In fact, I think I'll just stay away from that part of 
town from now on."  

   Just before drifting off to sleep, she said happily, 
"And they can keep their darn dress, too!"


   It was late afternoon when, during a therapeutic 
shopping spree, that Cynthia first noticed her credit 
cards were missing.  She dug furiously through her hand 
bag, only to discover that all her identification, 
including her driver's license, was also missing.

   She realized with a feeling of terrible despair that 
she would have to go back to Bountiful Plantation after 
all.  But this time she resolved not to go alone.

   
   Kathryn Jameson had been Cynthia's neighbor since 
childhood.  They were they same age (were in fact born 
within a week of each other at the same hospital).  Their 
parents all belonged to the same clubs, while the girls 
all went to the same schools.  Kathryn's father was even 
a long-time client of Cynthia's father.

   The two girls, more alike than they were different, 
had been practically inseparable until, when they were 
around 14 years old, nature played a cruel trick on them.  
Cynthia grew slightly taller while Kathryn developed a 
slightly bigger bust.  Although each was still very 
beautiful, after that they became terribly envious of 
each other and had hated one another with a passion ever 
since! 
 
   The two 18-year-olds were sitting in Cynthia's car 
(Kathryn's was at the Ferrari dealership getting a tune 
up), about five minutes driving from the one place on the 
planet Cynthia did not want to visit that day, the store 
known as Bountiful Plantation.

   "I can't believe it," Cynthia thought with disgust.  
"The only person who would come with me on such short 
notice is Kathryn.  Probably doesn't have a life, what 
with that enormous chest of hers, the slut!"  

   With that, Cynthia stole a quick, envious glance at 
the brunette's medium-sized breasts, on prominent display 
through her tight top, and sighed.

   "What is this place we are going to?" asked Kathryn.

   "I already told you.  It's a clothes store down town 
called Bountiful Plantation."

   "OK, Cyn'.  Now, why was it I had to postpone an 
excellent game of tennis that took me a month to work out 
for this afternoon (as a freebie, yet) with that yummy 
instructor at the club?  Why is this so important to you 
that it couldn't wait until tomorrow, or at least until I 
could change?"

   "Christ, Kath.  Pay attention, will you?  I have to 
pick up my... my dress for the big party.  You know, the 
one you and your parents are going to at my parent's 
home?"

   "Yes, I know," said Kathryn good-naturedly.  She was 
well used to Cynthia's weird moods.

   "How come I've never heard of this place?"

   "How the hell should I know.  I just found it myself 
yesterday."

   "Wow," said Kathryn, impressed in spite of herself.  
"They made you a dress in one day?"

   "It's very exclusive," Cynthia sniffed.

   "Sounds very expensive, too," Kathryn observed.

   "Well, it's not.  At least, I don't think it will be."

   "What!  You mean you don't know what it's going to 
cost you?  Oh, brother!"

   With relief, Cynthia pulled in to the familiar narrow 
alley and parked in the same place she had used 
yesterday.

   "We're here," Cynthia said, glad to be off a very 
embarrassing line of questions.  "Remember, we're just 
here to pick up my stuff and leave.  No hanging around, 
Okay?"

   "Oh, sure," Kathryn said absently, already intrigued 
by the elegant sign.

   They got out of the car and proceeded quietly to the 
front door.

   Cynthia had been too embarrassed to tell Kathryn of 
the events of yesterday, or of the real reason for their 
trip to the store.  Because of that, she had felt herself 
unable to warn Kathryn to be on her guard against any 
kind of funny business that might occur in the store.  
The fact that Kathryn was only wearing her cute, very 
short, single-piece white tennis outfit with socks and 
tennis shoes, did concern her a little bit for Kathryn's 
safety.

   "Hope the little idiot at least wore some underwear 
this time, but it doesn't look it," she thought.  She 
herself was wearing the plainest underwear and the 
tightest jeans and top she had.  It took her three tries 
to fasten the jeans alone, and she dared not breath 
completely for fear the button would pop.  "Let's see 
them try and pry me out of these!" she complacently 
thought.

   She wasn't really worried, though.  Kathryn was a 
smart cookie who could spot a sneaky guy trying to pull a 
fast one on her a mile away, so these people shouldn't be 
any trouble for her at all.  Cynthia herself would be 
watching them like a hawk.  All she had to do was quietly 
demand her things back, threatening them with the police 
if she had to, then leave.  It was that simple.

   Besides, they wouldn't dare try anything with the two 
of them there.


   The girls walked confidently into the cool, dim 
showroom of Bountiful Plantation.   There was no one in 
the room.

   "What are they trying to pull here, anyway?" Cynthia 
thought indignantly.  Every time she set herself up for a 
big scene, they always ran out on her!

   "Oohhh!" breathed Kathryn, eyeing the racks of elegant 
clothes.  "What neat stuff!"

   "Don't get ideas!" warned Cynthia.  "We're here just 
for my things, then we are history!"

   "Oh, sure.  But, I can look, can't I?" Kathryn said 
innocently as she moved in wonder among the racks of 
clothes.

   "My God!  All the labels say 'Bountiful Plantation!'"

   "Yes, yes.  They make all their own stuff.  So what?"

   "An exclusive line of beautiful clothes in this town 
that no one at school knows about, and you ask, 'So 
what?'  Cyn', are you nuts?  This is to die for!" the 
intoxicated Kathryn said.

   A demure young woman who Cynthia had never seen before 
came out of the darkness, and said, politely, "Hello.  My 
name is Allison.  Welcome to Bountiful Plantation.  How 
may we help you, today?"

   "Is June or Mickey here?  I need to talk to them."   

   "They're in the back.  Are you Miss Cynthia?"

   "Yes.  Can they come out for a minute?"

   "They're expecting you back there.  That's what they 
are working on, your dress.  You only need to go for a 
final fitting and you can take it with you.  It's quite 
beautiful and I'm sure you'll be very happy with it."

   "Great," Cynthia said without enthusiasm as she headed 
towards the back of the store.  "Come on, Kath'."

   "I'm sorry, but only one customer is allowed back 
there at a time," she told the worried Cynthia.  "Store 
policy."  To Kathryn she said,  "While she's busy, may I 
get you something to drink?  Perhaps some champagne?"

   "Sure!" said the eager Kathryn.

   "Don't get too comfortable, Kathryn," the departing 
Cynthia called firmly over her shoulder.  "We'll be 
leaving in just a moment."


   The back room was a crowded place, filled with work 
tables, bolts of cloth, and sewing machines.  Along all 
of the were placed floor-length mirrors at regular 
intervals.  At the center table sat Mickey and June, with 
their backs to the door.

   "Ah, excuse me!" she said loudly, as she stood in the 
opened doorway.  She was determined from the very first 
moment to let them know just who was in charge this time.

     The two women said nothing as they continued with 
their work.  Finally, Mickey raised her right hand and 
motioned for Cynthia to come over to where they were 
sitting.  

   Cynthia's hands flew protectively back over her 
tightly sheathed buttocks at this reminder of what had 
happened the day before.  "Well!  If she thinks she can 
intimidate me like that, she has another thing coming!" 
the indignant Cynthia muttered.

   She quietly walked over to where the two women sat, 
and stood next to Mickey, poised ready to flee at a 
moments notice.  She was surprised to see spread out on 
the table all of her missing cards, as well as the most 
beautiful dress that Cynthia had ever seen.  

   "Wow," she whispered.

   "Nice, isn't it?" Mickey said huskily as she placed 
her left arm around the teenager's narrow waist.

   "There you are!" exclaimed the smiling June.  "You two 
will have to excuse me," she said, rising, "but I'd 
better go help Allison.  She's still all thumbs with this 
sort of thing."

   June left the room, leaving only Cynthia and Mickey.

   Cynthia couldn't take her hungry eyes off of the 
dress.  It was fabulous!  She had never seen anything 
like it.

   "May I...touch it?"

   "You can do more than that, honey.  It's yours."

   Cynthia reverently picked up the dress and inspected 
it while holding it oh so carefully in her hands.

    Mickey dropped her hand from Cynthia's waist and 
carefully moved it over the teenager's firmly rounded 
buttocks.  Cynthia, lost in the dress, obediently turned 
when Mickey pulled on her left hip, so that her back was 
now to the woman.  Mickey used both hands to comfortably 
knead Cynthia's tightly packed buttocks.

   Cynthia was totally oblivious to what was happening 
around her.  She was completely lost in fantasies of her 
wearing this killer dress.  She would be the envy of her 
so-called friends and capture the attention of every guy 
in any room she entered.  It was made of a fine pearl-
colored silk which shimmered in the harsh light of the 
work room, as if the material itself was alive.  It had a 
floor-length skirt, long sleeves and a high neckline.  
Only the back was cut low, almost to the waist in fact, 
which Cynthia knew would make wearing a bra difficult, if 
not impossible.  Well, she knew of special slips for just 
such occasions, so that took care of that problem.  

   The slip would also take care of another problem.  The 
material was so sheer, the dress so obviously well-fitted 
that, even with everything covered, nothing would be 
covered at all!  Without something underneath, every 
goose bump on her body would be visible for all the world 
to see.  It made her feel creamy just thinking about it!


   "I like your friend," Mickey quietly said, as she 
worked one hand between Cynthia's thighs.  "She's quite a 
cupcake.  You and she aren't...?"

   "NO!  Of course not!" Cynthia sputtered, still lost in 
her dress fantasies. 

   "Just wondered," sighed Mickey.  She now worked the 
tight material of the girl's jeans which covered her 
vulva.

   "It's a beautiful dress," Cynthia said dreamily.  She 
was so lost to her surroundings that she never noticed 
June come in carrying Kathryn's tennis outfit and place 
it neatly on an empty counter, before leaving with two 
bolts of cloth and a bottle of champagne taken from a 
refrigerator.

   "Evening gown, actually.  Yes, it's a fine job, all 
right," agreed Mickey as she tugged slightly on Cynthia's 
waist button.  It was so over-taxed the snap immediately 
popped and the zipper flew open all the way down the 
girl's front.

   Cynthia snapped out of her delicious day-dream when 
she realized that her jeans were being pulled off!

   "Oh, my God!" she cried, putting the dress down on the 
table.  "You stop that, right now!"

   "Stop what?"

   "You know.  You're trying to undress me!"  she cried, 
as she frantically tried to pull her tight jeans back up 
again.

   "Of course I am," an exasperated Mickey replied.  
"Jesus!  Do you want to try on the dress or don't you?"

   "Oh.  Uh, sorry," said the terribly chagrined 
teenager.

   "All right, then.  Stop complaining, will you?  As a 
matter of fact, you might even try helping me a little, 
or we'll be here all night."

   Cynthia started to remove her top and bra while Mickey 
went back to pulling down the girl's jeans.

   She noticed that Mickey had to repeatedly run her hand 
between her upper thighs in her struggle to take off her 
tight jeans, inadvertently rubbing Cynthia's sensitive 
crotch underneath the thin panties in the process.  By 
the time Mickey had worked the stubborn jeans past her 
flaring hips and down her shapely legs, the topless 
Cynthia was feeling quiet breathless.

   Cynthia was just going to ask her to be more careful 
when Mickey's hand managed to flick Cynthia's erect 
hyper-sensitive clitoris just once too often.  "Oh NO!  
Not again!" she cried as the orgasm hit the unsuspecting 
teenager.

   Stunned, she could only hang desperately onto the work 
table as her body gave in yet again, her vagina 
uncontrollably pulsing copious amounts of fluids into the 
crotch band of her tight bikini panties.

    Mickey helped her to sit while the fantastic 
sensations continued to rule her being.  Mickey used the 
opportunity to pull the helpless girl's jeans and shoes 
completely off.

   Wearing just her terribly soiled panties, Cynthia was 
able to only sit dumbfounded.  "Why does this keep 
happening to me??" she wondered.

   "There you go again," Mickey said reprovingly.  "You 
do realize that if you do...that while wearing this 
dress, you will permanently ruin it?"

   "I'm sorry," the teenager sobbed.  "I just can't seem 
to help it!"

   "Let's get you cleaned off first, girl.  Then we'll 
see about the dress.  Stand up."

   The crying girl stood up and allowed Mickey to pull 
off her panties.  She was so embarrassed, it was like she 
had just wet herself.

   "These are a goner," Mickey observed.  She carefully 
placed them aside for future fun and got some damp paper 
towels from the store's rest room.

   She carefully washed and dried the pliant teenager's 
pubes, using the opportunity to repeatedly thrust her 
fingers deep into the unsuspecting girl's tight cuntal 
passage.

   Cynthia's sobs started to change into strange little 
gasps as Mickey's fingers worked their magic on the 
girl's defenseless cunt.

   "UUHH!" gasped the dazed teenager as her second climax 
struck.  She just sat glassy-eyed as the fluids pulsed 
out of her pussy, pooling on the seat between her thighs.

   She could only look on without comprehension as Mickey 
knelt between the seated girl's widespread legs and began 
to clean her crotch again.  But, the same thing kept 
happening!  Cynthia kept soiling herself and Mickey had 
to keep having to clean her off.

   Finally, because her towels were so obviously well-
used by now, it didn't surprise the bewildered and semi-
conscious Cynthia that Mickey started using her mouth and 
tongue to wash her off.

   Cynthia's last sensory impression, before her 
shattered nervous system sent her off to oblivion, was 
that of a strange sound coming from the kneeling Mickey, 
her face buried deep into the seated Cynthia's crotch.  
It was almost like...purring.


   Cynthia awoke feeling very pleasant.  She was nude, 
lying on her back on the work table.  A voice kept 
saying, "You must wear the gown for your father's party."

   "Wha...?"

   "Wear the gown at the party."

   "Can't.  Father would kill.  Hates me without 
underwear."

   Cynthia raised her head enough to see that Mickey's 
hands were kneading her breasts.  "No wonder I feel so 
good," she thought as she lowered her head and closed her 
eyes.

   "Don't worry.  I'll give you something that will 
protect both you and the dress."

   "Honest?  Cool!  I'd like to wear it.  I really would.  
I think it's so beautiful!"

   Mickey reluctantly released Cynthia's breasts and 
picked up a device she had ready on the floor.

   "Look here.  With this you can wear the grown in 
complete safety."  Mickey handed the prone teenager a 
small object in the shape of a half sea-shell.

   Intrigued, Cynthia sat upright on the table.  She 
examined the object closely.  The inside portion of the 
shell had a strange thick ridge running down the center.  
There was even what looked like a miniature battery 
compartment and antenna.  But, try as she might, her 
exhausted mind couldn't figure it out.

   "What does it do?" she finally asked.

   "Watch," Mickey said as she took the object from the 
girl's hands.  She reached between the suddenly anxious 
Cynthia's thighs and placed the shell snugly on her 
vulva.

   "There is a light adhesive that you apply around the 
inner edges for a more secure fit before putting it on.  
Other then that, how do you like it?"

   "It feels...fine, but what is it?  What does it do??"

   "It acts as a set of miniature panties, of course.  
Absorbs moisture and keeps prying eyes away.  What else 
do you need?"

   "Nothing, I guess.  Seems kind of small, though."

   "Listen, you can't wear any regular underwear with 
this, and that includes slips.  Try it on, and you'll see 
what I mean."

   Full of trepidation, Cynthia got off the table and 
walked over to where the magnificent gown was lying.  
"What if I'm not good enough?  What if I'm too fat for 
it?" she agonized to herself.  "What will I do then?"

   She easily slipped into the gown by pulling it over 
her head, the smooth, cool material clinging to her body 
like a second skin.  She pulled up the short zipper in 
back and walked over to one of the wall mirrors.  She 
looked at her reflection with amazement.  

   "Wow!" She couldn't believe it.  She was absolutely 
beautiful in this!  She critically checked her reflection 
front and back and could find no flaw, anywhere.  Even 
her big butt looked small in this!  One thing was 
certain, though.  The way this fitted her, any underwear 
would certainly destroy those fantastic, clean lines 
which the gown made of her athletic figure.

   She had to have it!  She just had to!

   "What do I owe you?"

   "That depends entirely on you.  If you wear it to your 
father's party, $500.  If you don't, then the gown will 
cost you $5000.  So, what's it to be?"

   "$500!"

   "Fine.  Before you pay the bill, just one thing. If 
you decide not to wear it after all, we will add $4500 to 
your bill.  Actually, we'll just spread the additional 
charge through your various credit cards, you have so 
many."

   "Why should you care so much where or when I wear 
this?"

   "Advertising.  You would be surprised at the number of 
people who buy beautiful things like this and then be too 
afraid to wear them.  You see, I know of a potential 
client who will be at your party, and I want to impress 
them.  Now, let me help you out of that beautiful gown."

   As Mickey unzipped the back, and pulled the gown off 
her shoulders, Cynthia saw a pile of familiar looking 
clothes.  "My God!" she thought.  "It's Kathryn's tennis 
outfit.  I forgot all about her!"

   "Is my friend still out front?" she asked.

   "No, she got bored some hours ago waiting for you.  
She and Allison went swimming together somewhere, I 
believe."

   "But I'm her ride!" she exclaimed as the nude girl 
stepped out of the gown.

   "Allison agreed to take her back home.  Seems they 
don't live too far from each other."

   "Oh. That's okay then.  But what about her clothes?"

   "They are coming back here first.  Come on, now.  Step 
into these so we can get you on your way."

   Cynthia obediently stepped into her jeans. Cynthia put 
on her bra and top while Mickey pulled her jeans up over 
her legs and hips.  To Cynthia's disgust, Mickey fastened 
the jeans on the first try.  


   "OOOOHH!"  Cynthia wheezed when the interior denim 
seam came into unexpected contact with her crotch.  
Without her panties, the fabric of her super-tight jeans 
dug cruelly into her vulva.  The constant rubbing of the 
fabric on Cynthia's abused crotch was enough to keep the 
naive teenager in a constant state of excitement during 
her entire trip back to Eastwood Estates.  By the time 
she arrived home, the crotch of her jeans was soaked 
through and through, and she had to sneak in the 
servant's entrance with her gown to avoid being seen by 
anyone.



Bountiful Plantation: Part V of VI


    Carrying her gown carefully by the hook on the 
garment bag, Cynthia climbed up the winding back stairs 
of her home like someone who was a great deal older than 
eighteen.  Moving slowly was the only way she knew to 
reduce the effects of the digging cloth on her poor, 
abused pussy.  The fabric had worked its way deep into 
her vulva, and was also pressed directly onto her 
terribly erect clitoris.  Even moving slowly, she found 
she could only walk a short distance before having to 
stop and try to regain control of her body.  The drive 
home had quickly become a nightmare for her, but this 
time she knew she had no-one to blame for her 
difficulties but herself.  She could still feel the 
desperate need for an orgasm screaming inside of her that 
her drive home somehow induced.
  
   "I must get these jeans off!" she thought frantically.  
What was she thinking?  If she didn't take them off very, 
very soon, she knew for certain that she would embarrass 
herself once again!

   She continued to climb very slowly up the narrow 
stairs, but she knew she was near the end of her 
endurance.  Each step she took caused her pussy to 
positively throb.  Cynthia held her breath, went up 
another step, and her vagina exploded!

   She collapsed on the stairs, careful to keep her new 
gown above her as she did so.  She lay helpless on her 
back as she watched with gasping horror the small wet 
spot on the crotch of her jeans which marked the deep 
cleft of her sex.  The spot started to grow larger and 
larger as her vagina pulsed out the lubricating fluids.

   "Oh, wonderful!" she thought bitterly as she gritted 
her teeth to keep from crying out.  "I just creamed my 
jeans!"


   A young woman wearing a caterer's standard uniform of 
white shirt and tight black slacks, came bounding up the 
stairs and stopped dead at the sight of the teenager 
lying there.

   "Are you hurt?" the pert blonde asked in a lilting 
English accent.

   Terribly embarrassed at being caught like this, 
Cynthia could only shake her head and mumble, 

   "Wet myself."

   The woman placed her button nose directly over 
Cynthia's wet crotch and sniffed delicately, once.  
Apparently satisfied at the result, she reached under the 
girl's top and unfastened Cynthia's jeans, and began 
pulling them off the stricken girl.

   Still shaken by the effects of her powerful orgasm, 
Cynthia could only moan, 

   "Yes!  Oh, yes!" when she realized that the English 
girl meant to rescue her from her traitorous clothing.

   For some reason this seemed to inspire the young woman 
to even greater efforts as she now labored frantically to 
pull Cynthia's very tight jeans off of her hips.

   It was obviously a mighty struggle for her, but 
finally, the small blonde woman had the clinging jeans 
down past Cynthia's thighs.  Soon she had them piled, 
along with the girl's shoes and socks, on a lower 
landing.  Cynthia felt herself returning to normal after 
the effects of her latest devastating orgasm and breathed 
a deep sigh of relief.  She was free at last of those 
terrible jeans!

   She was preparing to thank her rescuer when she saw 
the woman move her legs apart and sit right between her 
opened thighs.  
   
   "Now what?" the unsuspecting teenager thought, then 
gasped with horror as the woman placed her mouth directly 
onto her vulva.

   "Oh, my God!  No!  You can't!  Stop!  You can't do 
that!" 
 
   Still holding her gown, the struggling girl tried to 
go backwards up the stairs, but the woman held on to the 
teenager's naked hips with fierce tenacity.  Her mouth 
proved, in Cynthia's rapidly growing experience of such 
things, to be very educated indeed.

   Soon, the insatiable mouth clamped on her pussy 
drained the already exhausted Cynthia of any strength to 
resist her attacker.  Naked from the waist down, Cynthia 
could only lay helpless on the stairs while she was being 
eaten out by a complete stranger, and one of the caterers 
at that!  Oh, the shame, the shame.

   Cynthia, to her disgust, climaxed mightily and her 
female seducer eagerly lapped the dazed teenager's 
pulsing vaginal fluids.  After expertly licking the 
panting girl dry, the caterer hopped over Cynthia's legs 
and started up the stairs.

   "Hey, wait," Cynthia weakly called up the stairs.  
"You can't..."

   "Sorry, love.  No time to make a proper job of it. 
Never you mind, eh?  We'll do it right tomorrow night.  
Ta!"  Then she was gone!

   The flabbergasted Cynthia couldn't believe it.  She 
had wanted to violently protest this awful violation of 
her person by this total stranger, and instead only 
managed to make a date with her for the party.

     "It's just not fair!" the half-naked girl wailed as 
she stood up and tiredly started climbing up the stairs 
again.  

   She almost reached the top when she realized she had 
forgotten all her things on the stairs below.  By the 
time she had gone back down, retrieved her clothes and 
started back up the stairs, Cynthia had worked herself 
into a full self-pitying cry.  When the sobbing girl 
reached the second floor, she shielded herself as best 
she could and fled to the safety of her room.


   The day of the party had finally arrived and the large 
house was in state of carefully controlled turmoil.

   Cynthia knew that this was THE party, as far as her 
parents were concerned.  It was an annual affair, given 
by Cynthia's father for all of his favorite clients: 
past, present and future.  It was completely catered, 
with a formal dinner served in a large pavilion set up 
out back, dancing, several temporary bars, and even 
fireworks.  There were always two bands, one out on the 
back lawn for the sedate dancers, and one down in the 
basement recreation area for the younger set.  The party 
was something that most people did not miss willingly.

   Cynthia would have paid a good deal of money to have 
been anywhere else today.  After what she had gone 
through this weekend, after all of the humiliations and 
abuses she had endured, all she wanted to do for the 
entire day was to stay in bed.

   But Cynthia was now an official part of today's 
events, and staying in bed was out of the question.  At 
least that's what her mother kept telling her as she 
threw the still-sleeping teenager out of bed at the 
ungodly hour of 10 o'clock in the morning.  

   As Cynthia grew older, she reluctantly found herself 
becoming more and more involved with her mother's hostess 
duties, especially anything concerning the younger set.  
She had already been informed she was to be part of the 
"official reception committee", which was just her 
mother's way of saying Cynthia was to be one of the 
greeters at the front door.  She was also to be seated at 
one of the big tables this time, which was were the 
really important clients were always located.
   
   Cynthia had felt rather badly after being woken like 
that, yet she knew it was the best thing that could have 
happened to her.  By being thrown into the party 
preparations, she'd had no time at all to brood over the 
astonishing events of the past two days.  Not a 
contemplative person even at the best of times, Cynthia 
brushed aside all that had happened to her and focused on 
the needs of the party.  More specifically, she 
concentrated on the impression she was going to make on 
everyone tonight.  It would, she was sure, truly be a 
night to remember!


   Well, it was party time and she was almost ready.  She 
was standing nude in her bathroom, bathed, shaved, 
powdered, and with her face on.  She was sweetly perfumed 
in all the right places.  Earlier in the day she had 
completed all the important things: gotten her hair and 
nails done, received a pedicure, and bought a new pair of 
shoes with (of course) a matching hand bag.  Her normal 
routine of also buying new underwear for a special event 
didn't apply this time, as she (Oh God!) wasn't going to 
be wearing any.  She was to spend the entire evening 
wearing the slinkiest gown she had ever seen, with her 
shoes, and that was all!  She had been getting goose 
pimples all day just thinking about it!

   Except for her small crotch protector, that is.  At 
least she would have that on.

   She stared at her nude reflection one last time, then 
shrugged her shoulders.  She sat down on her bathroom 
chair and picked up the kit Mickey had given her 
yesterday.  She carefully applied the supplied adhesive 
around the edges of the protector, then gingerly placed 
the small object directly onto her vulva, being careful 
to avoid her recently trimmed pubic hair as much as 
possible.  It fit perfectly.

   Looking at the small half-shell, Cynthia felt 
decidedly foolish wearing it, yet she had to have 
something!

   She stood up and looked in the mirror.  The shell 
completely covered her vulva.  "Well, I'll be protected 
down there at least," she thought.  "But, God!  It feels 
just like someone has their hand right on me!" She 
wiggled her hips experimentally and the protector 
remained in place.  "How weird!" she said to her 
reflection.

   Finally satisfied that all was well, she took the gown 
out of its protective bag and slowly inserted her trim, 
athletic body into the form-fitting garment.  When the 
gown was on her, she set the shoulder and neck straps, 
then zipped up the back.  She stepped into her new shoes, 
a pair of wicked-looking high-heels.  Finally, Cynthia 
put on her most discreet but still very expensive diamond 
earring-and-pendant set.  With this gown, no other 
jewelry would be necessary. 
 
   Now that she was complete, she carefully checked 
herself one last time.

   "Wow," she reverently whispered.  "Wow."

   She was elegant!  She felt herself absolutely glowing 
with untouchable sex.  The effect took her breath away.  
It was like a fairy tale come true.  She really was the 
pristine Virgin Princess at the Royal Ball.

   Intoxicated with her own beauty, Cynthia floated out 
of her room and down the corridor to the main stair case.  

   She stood alone on the landing and waited a moment to 
compose herself.  She knew her gown deserved only the 
most perfect of entrances.  If she ever decided to wear 
it out in town, she'd probably require an armed guard to 
keep the guys away, but in her own home with a house full 
of guests, she knew she was perfectly safe.
  
   Cynthia was just about to start down the stairs when 
she jumped!  She had just felt someone caress her silk-
covered buttocks!

   She whirled around and found herself face to face with 
the short catering girl from yesterday!

   "Oh God!  It's you!" she sputtered, not knowing what 
to do next in her embarrassment at meeting someone who 
had so recently taken such intimate advantage of her.

   "Happy to see you again, too!" the girl beamed, her 
hands on Cynthia's waist.  "Too busy for anything now, 
love.  Just wanted you to know you look absolutely 
smashing!  If you need to see me later, ask anyone for 
Penelope.  I'll be working the bars.  Ta!"

   "OH!" the startled Cynthia gasped as Penelope, rising 
on her toes, kissed her full on the lips, while at the 
same time sneakily tweaking the unsuspecting teenager's 
vulnerable nipples through the thin silk. 

   Before Cynthia had a chance to protest, Penelope had 
quickly vanished down the stair case leading to the 
kitchen.

   The terribly flustered girl could only stand there, 
dumbfounded.  She looked wildly around the corridor to 
see if anyone had seen what had just taken place.  
Relieved, she saw that she was still completely alone.

   Cynthia took a deep breath and once again tried to 
compose herself, but without success.  She looked down 
and saw with horror that the nipples on her high-set 
breasts, now obviously very erect, were clearly visible 
through the silk.

   "Oh, no!"  she thought.  "Now what am I supposed to 
do?"  She knew that she just had to go down now.  She 
could not stall any longer and expect to live through the 
night without her parents killing her.  She was probably 
in serious trouble already.

   Well, she would just have to keep her arms crossed 
over her chest, that's all, until her naughty nipples 
shrank to a more respectable size.

   She hurried on down the steps, not concerned with 
making an entrance anymore.  At the bottom of the stairs, 
Cynthia entered the madhouse of the front foyer.  There 
were people packed everywhere, with caterers weaving 
their way through the crowd of new-comers carrying silver 
trays loaded with drinks and hors d'oeuvres.

   Her mother, standing by the open front double doors, 
caught her eye during a gap in the crowd and curtly 
motioned for her daughter to join her.

   Cynthia took her place alongside that of her mother, 
and automatically started to greet the new arrivals.

   "What the fuck are you wearing?" her mother whispered 
bitterly into her ear during a brief lull between 
arrivals.

   "It's a gown, Mom.  An evening gown."

   "No shit.  No wonder you wouldn't let me see what you 
were wearing tonight.  That dress is a bit much even for 
you, don't you think?"

   "It's just a gown, Mom.  It's no big deal.  Really."

   "Sure.  Just remember that when your father has his 
stroke tonight."

   "Mom!"

   "Well, too late now.  Since you're finally here, take 
over while I check on the caterers."

   Cynthia stood alone at the door, the official greeter 
for the party's incoming hordes of people.

   The reactions her gown drew from just about everyone 
astonished the teenager.  She saw some pretty slinky 
outfits walk through the door, but she could honestly 
feel that her appearance topped them all.  Cynthia began 
to feel that she truly was the Belle of the Ball!

   In her first twenty minutes at the door, she received 
eight proposals of marriage, fifteen requests to meet 
with someone in one of the upstairs bedrooms later on in 
the evening, and one discrete offer to spend two weeks at 
a villa in Maui.

   Her plan to keep her chest covered quickly fell apart 
with the need to continuously welcome people to her home. 

   Everyone wanted to shake her by the hand, sometimes 
joyously enough to cause her breasts to really shake and 
shimmy under her bodice.  Of course, all that movement 
just caused her nipples to grow still harder and even 
more erect than before.

   At seven, with relief, Cynthia closed and locked the 
double doors.  Her father's one firm rule for the party 
was that no guest be admitted to the house after that 
time.  This evening, she hadn't had a single person come 
in for over fifteen minutes before she had to lock the 
doors.
   
   When guests were supposed to leave was another matter.  
She knew overnighters were encouraged, especially if 
great distances and/or alcohol were involved.  These 
affairs could continue throughout the night, lasting as 
long as the participants desired.  Parties until dawn 
were not uncommon.

   Cynthia worked her way through the large crowd, 
playing the proper hostess, making a point to have a 
brief word with every group or even individuals who were 
standing alone.
  
   As it turned out, wherever she went, large crowds 
seemed to appear as if from nowhere.

   Regardless of how few people a room might contain, 
after Cynthia's arrival a crowd would always form and 
gather around her.  Strangely, she had the oddest 
impression the people seemed intent on getting as close 
to her as possible, much closer then she had ever 
experienced at a party before.  She could feel them 
physically pressing against her through the thin silk of 
her gown.  She tried not to jump whenever a hand passed 
over her buttocks or grazed her breasts, but each 
happened a great deal as she made her rounds.  It was not 
really surprising to the innocent teenager, what with the 
heavy crowds and all.
   
   It was having an effect on her, though.  After a 
while, such unintentional contact started to take her 
breath away.  She could feel the heaviness begin to build 
in her vagina, a sure sign her darned secretions were 
starting to flow again.  She could only pray that the 
little protector would work as advertised and keep her 
from embarrassing herself and, more importantly, keep her 
from ruining her gown.

    As the evening progressed, Cynthia found herself 
receiving all kinds of offers to dance.  She tried to 
politely limit them as much as possible to only the slow 
dances.  She was becoming concerned of what too much 
perspiration would do to her beautiful gown.

   On the dance floor, she noticed that her partner's 
hand would inevitably stray from her waist, to an even 
much lower position down her hip, lower then even she 
would consider proper.  At first, she couldn't comprehend 
what they were doing, then it struck her.  They were 
feeling for her missing panties!
   
    She gave up dancing altogether after that.


    Finally, to Cynthia's relief, dinner was announced by 
caterers carrying small brass gongs.  She knew that she 
would be sitting at a table which was thankfully on the 
opposite side of the pavilion from her father's.  Her 
spot on the twenty-person table would be right between 
the Farland sisters, two sweet spinsters who, in their 
late 80's, were her father's oldest clients.

   Cynthia headed for her table in the pavilion, happy in 
the knowledge that she would be spending a peaceful hour 
or two away from the groping masses and be in the company 
of some of those few clients of her father's that she 
actually liked.

   She needed some quiet time anyway, she knew.  She 
hadn't counted on how demonstrative everyone became 
around her because she was wearing the gown tonight.  
Just wearing the gown made her feel sexy, but after being 
unintentionally groped and fondled by the crowd all 
evening, she was feeling positively creamy inside, as 
well as being quite breathless.

   It was getting so bad she decided that, after dinner, 
she was going to sneak back upstairs and change her 
clothes for something, anything else.  She felt even one 
of her comfortable bathing suits would probably be better 
for then the gown.  At least that way she would possess 
the equivalent protection of having on panties and a bra!
   

   She was seated in her designated spot at the table, 
happily chatting to Ruth and Ester Farland, when Cynthia 
noticed her neighbor Kathryn, wearing a grim smile, take 
an empty seat directly opposite the table from her.

   "Uh-oh," thought Cynthia in dismay.  "She's really 
pissed at me about something."
  
   She had forgotten all about Kathryn after leaving her 
at Bountiful Plantation yesterday.

   "Whatever happened  there wasn't my fault," she 
thought.  "I just went to pick up my gown, that's all."  
The fact that Cynthia didn't warn Kathryn of her own 
unusual experiences with the staff when she was there the 
day before, sat uneasily on her conscience.

   "It wasn't my fault," Cynthia said aloud.

   "What, dear?" asked Ester.

   "Nothing.  Sorry," apologized Cynthia.

   Cynthia suddenly began to feel the faintest of tingles 
coming from her crotch, but it went away as quickly as it 
had begun.  Probably vibration from someone walking 
behind her, she thought, and promptly forgot about it.
   

   As the dinner began to be served, Cynthia was mildly 
surprised that the strange feelings kept returning, and 
each time they lasted just a bit longer than before.
  
   She was so busy playing hostess and companion to the 
Farland sisters that it was some time before she realized 
the sensations between her legs were becoming quite a 
distraction.  The vibrations, centered on her vulva, were 
continuous now, and were getting stronger.

   She finally realized what was happening to her. "Oh, 
my God!" she said unknowingly.  It was her protector!  It 
was vibrating!!

   Her vagina was throbbing like crazy and she tightly 
crossed her legs to try and stifle the growing 
sensations.

   "Oh my!" she thought desperately.  Maybe it was full 
or something, and this was the alarm.  She didn't 
remember Mickey saying anything about emptying the 
protector, but, dazzled by the gown, she hadn't really 
been paying any attention to her at the time.

   Regardless of the reason, though, the protector's 
vibrations were causing her some serious trouble.  
Cynthia could only keep what she hoped was an interested, 
calm look on her face as she fought to keep her body 
under control. 

   "Please, God!  Not here, not now!" she prayed 
reverently as the throbbings of her vagina started to 
reach overwhelming proportions.

   She knew her face was flush and that beads of sweat 
were forming along her hairline.  She was having trouble 
catching her breath.  Her crossed legs were dancing under 
the table in her increasing nervousness.

   Cynthia was helpless.  Everyone was just starting 
their main course.  If she got up from the table now, 
everyone, including her parents, in the pavilion would 
see her!  But if she stayed...!

   Ruth reached with her right hand across the girl's 
chest to hand her sister a hankie.  A heavy, ornate ring 
on her forefinger caught both of the unsuspecting 
Cynthia's highly erect nipples in passing.

   "OH!" grunted the stunned teenager, as stars appeared 
before her eyes.

   Ruth caught the vulnerable nipples again when she 
brought her hand back.

   Cynthia slumped back in her chair as her world quickly 
spun out of control.

   Ester placed a withered hand on the dazed Cynthia's 
right knee and cooed, "What a delightful dress you're 
wearing tonight, my dear.  Isn't it simply delightful, 
Ruth?"

   "Oh, yes.  Suits her perfectly."  Ruth placed her 
right hand on the teenager's left knee and together the 
two old women began to pull up the girl's gown.

   Cynthia's gown was half-way up her thighs before she 
realized what was happening below the table.  She looked 
with dazed amazement at Ruth and Ester.  The two very old 
ladies were chattering contentedly just as they had been 
before, while her gown continued to inexorably rise on 
her legs.  From their behavior no one would ever realize 
they were undressing her right there at the table.

   She automatically rose to flee when a short, powerful 
blast from the protector caused her to quickly sit again.  
That time she had almost climaxed right there!

   Cynthia looked down and saw with horror that her gown 
was now bunched up around her waist.  The two sisters had 
used her failed escape attempt to pull her gown up past 
her hips.  She pushed her chair as far under the table as 
it would go, then draped the hanging tablecloth around 
her as far as possible.  She was now covered as much as 
was practicable, while the old ladies were now free to do 
whatever they wanted to her below the table. 
 
   Dazed, she looked across the table and saw Kathryn 
laughing at her.  "Kathryn!" she thought, stunned.  "She 
knows what's happening?  I don't believe it!  Why doesn't 
she help me, then?"

   Thought failed her as two strong, rough hands dipped 
between her smooth upper thighs and pressed tightly 
against her protector! 
 
   "We have to lose this now, my dear," Ruth told the 
noncomprehending teenager as she and Ester gently pried 
the still vibrating protector away from Cynthia's vulva.

    Cynthia looked with horror as Ester calmly examined 
the device on the table in front of her while Ruth gently 
ran her fingers up and down the trembling girl's labia.

   "Can't stand these newfangled hidden exciter-things," 
Ester said quietly.  "We've always preferred a good old-
fashioned dildo."

   With a flash, Ester expertly threw the protector 
across the large table to the waiting Kathryn.  "Thanks, 
honey.  You've been swell," Ester told the smiling 
Kathryn.

   "You are welcome, ma'am," said Kathryn, and she walked 
around the table toward the shocked Cynthia, laughing.

   When she reached where Cynthia was sitting, she stood 
behind her.

   "You left me there," Kathryn told her with quiet 
despair.  "You left me alone with those... those people!"  
She sobbed once, then recovered her composure.  "They 
told me you did it deliberately too, to lower the cost of 
your gown.  My old friend.  You set me up, you bitch!  
Well, two can play at that game," Kathryn whispered 
furiously as she held her hands in front of the stricken 
girl and opened them.  

   In Kathryn's right hand Cynthia was embarrassed to 
recognized her crotch protector.  In her left hand was 
some kind of controller.

   "You know what they say.  'Payback's a bitch.'  Well, 
here I am!!  When they gave me the chance to get even 
with you, I jumped at it.  With this remote, I've been 
turning you on all night with the hidden exciter you were 
stupid enough to wear.  You never even noticed it, did 
you?"
   
   "Well ladies," Kathryn whispered to Ruth and Ester, 
"she's all primed and yours for the taking!"

   Ruth placed her mouth close to Cynthia's left ear.  "I 
have a message for you from Mickey," she whispered as she 
inserted three fingers deep into Cynthia's steaming cunt.

   "UH!" Cynthia gasped at the unexpected intrusion.

   "She sends you her regards and hopes you're enjoying 
the gown.  She also said to tell you that you'll be 
spanked very soon for all the times you forgot to say 
"ma'am" to her yesterday. Knowing Mickey as I do, if I 
were you I'd plan on not being able to sit for a long 
while."


   Ester's left hand joined her sister's right hand 
between the girl's thighs under the table.  Soon Cynthia 
had six fingers deep within her, all expertly teasing the 
walls of her helpless vagina, while the digits still 
outside her cunt were busy on her vulva and clitoris.

   The teenager could only groan helplessly as she was 
deftly fondled, held on the edge but never allowed to 
pass the boundary into the blissful release of an orgasm.


   To the discrete inquiries being made about the strange 
behavior of their host's beautiful daughter, Ruth and 
Ester would sweetly explain that Cynthia had a mild touch 
of the flu (the poor thing) and it would be better if 
everyone just kept their distance from her for the 
remainder of the meal.  Not to worry, though.  She had 
placed herself into their capable hands and would be well 
taken care of.


    Finally, dessert was being served.  The Farland 
sisters were from a family who really enjoyed their 
sweets.  They deliberately brought the panting Cynthia to 
her long deigned climax!  They had thoughtfully laid some 
linen napkins earlier on the girl's seat, to absorb any 
lubricants she might expel when she was finally allowed 
her moment.

   Cynthia groaned and shuttered her way uncontrollably 
through her orgasm, while the Farland sisters had to 
explain to everyone that Cynthia was just demonstrating a 
scene she had really liked from some movie she had 
recently seen.  Convincing, wasn't she?


   Cynthia, when she could think again, sat at the table 
feeling terribly, terribly humiliated.  She had 
embarrassed herself again, and in a tent full of people 
this time.  What was wrong with her, she wondered.  What 
was wrong?

   She continued to sit until everyone seated at her 
table had left.  When she was alone, she rose up slightly 
and smoothed her gown down past her hips legs before 
sitting again.

   Cynthia wondered what to do.  The excitement of the 
party had faded, and she really didn't want to mingle 
with these people any more.  Even the joy of wearing her 
gown had fallen from her.   Yet, after vaguely 
remembering receiving some disquieting message from 
Mickey, she didn't want to be alone tonight.

   The answer was obvious.  She would, avoiding crowds by 
taking back-ways whenever possible, return to the 
sanctuary of her room.  There she would clean up (she 
must look frightful after all this), carefully put the 
gown away and never look at it again for the rest of her 
natural life, change into a sensible swim suit (she must 
have one somewhere!) and beach robe, and hang out at the 
pool all evening.  There were always swimmers hanging 
around and it was far enough away from the outside band 
and refreshment tables that it was a fairly peaceful 
place to be.

   Her parents would just have to do without her help 
this year, that's all.  She had had enough excitement for 
one night, thank you, and was looking forward to spending 
the rest of the evening drinking wine by the pool.



Bountiful Plantation: Part VI of VI

   She made it across the lawn and into the house with 
out being noticed by anyone.  She quickly walked through 
the busy kitchen and, not seeing her mother anywhere, 
darted into the kitchen stairwell.  She crept up the 
kitchen stairs to the second floor, thankful that no one 
was using it at the moment.

   Getting down on her hands and knees so she wouldn't be 
noticed, Cynthia just stuck her head around the second 
floor landing.  She was at floor level and had a clear 
view of her end of the corridor.  The coast was clear.

   She started to get up when she saw her mother come 
storming out of her bedroom.  She quickly dropped to her 
hands and knees again, and froze.

   "Where is that little bitch?," her mother cried to the 
deserted hallway.  "Cynthia!  I know you're hiding up 
here.  Get your butt out here right now!"

   While her mother stood fuming, not five feet from 
Cynthia's head, a senior caterer came down the corridor 
from the main stair case.

   "Mrs. Sampson, a moment of your time," he said as he 
quickly walked towards her.

   "Yes, John," her mother said sweetly.  "What is it 
now?"

   To Cynthia's dismay, her mother and the caterer got 
into a serious discussion right there in the corridor.  
If she tried to back out now, she was sure she would be 
noticed.

   It was then that Cynthia heard a quiet English voice 
behind her say, "I'd recognize that bottom anywhere."

   "Oh, no!" Cynthia thought with horror.  "It's that 
catering girl, Penelope.  What could she possible want?"

   Cynthia quickly found out.  Two hands slowly started 
rubbing and kneading every silk-covered inch of her 
jutting buttocks.

   When they were finished, the hands casually slid 
unprotested up over her sides and stomach.  They 
eventually stopped on her silk-enclosed breasts, which 
they gently fondled for a time.

   "Ooh, this is so embarrassing!" she wailed to herself 
as tears rolled down her cheeks.  "Why is everyone 
picking on me so much?" Cynthia thought bitterly as 
unwanted feelings of contentment washed over her as her 
breasts were being kneaded.

   "MMMmmmmm," she quietly moaned.  "If only it didn't 
feel so good," she thought.  "It's so hard to resist when 
it feels this good."

   She felt her straps being fiddled with and soon the 
top of her gown fell away, leaving her bare breasts to 
dangle freely underneath her.  She next heard the faint 
sound of a zipper being opened (her mother instinctively 
paused at the sound for a moment), then felt her gown 
being lowered.

   When her gown was puddled around her knees, she heard 
the soft rustling of more clothing being removed.  

   "I brought a surprise for us, love," she heard 
Penelope say softly.  "Meet my best friend, Long Tom!"

   Cynthia jumped when something soft and bulbous started 
to press against her exposed vulva.  She felt Penelope 
try to widen her thighs, but her dress was tangled at her 
knees and wouldn't allow it.  Penelope soon worked the 
dress over the girl's knees and off her legs.

   Penelope, once having widened Cynthia's thighs to her 
satisfaction, started to work the lubricated dildo into 
the vulnerable teenager's pussy.  Cynthia tried to wiggle 
her hips in violent protest, but that just caused 
Penelope to mutter, "Patience, love.  We'll get it all 
in, don't you worry."

   Feeling completely defeated, Cynthia could only wait 
there and let this stranger do what she wanted with her, 
while the cause of her dilemma continued her agonizing 
talk in the corridor.

   Penelope gradually worked the dildo deeper and deeper 
into the tight passage of the unresisting girl's vagina, 
occasionally twisting and turning it to heighten the 
effect.

   Cynthia's traitorous body quickly responded to this 
latest outrage.  Her cuntal walls clung greedily to the 
intruder.  She could feel her vaginal fluids flowing down 
the inside of her splayed thighs.  Each time the dildo 
moved within her, the sensation overwhelmed her 
completely.  As Penelope reached her desired depth, she 
began to develop an in-and-out rhythm which Cynthia's 
hips quickly matched.

   Her mother and the caterer finally went down the main 
stairs, but it was too late, too late.  Cynthia was 
already undressed and helplessly impaled on the massive 
dildo.

   She couldn't understand it.  Why did these terrible 
things that people were doing to her lately have to feel 
so darn good?  The skilled movement of the dildo within 
her, her dangling breasts rubbing on the step below, the 
plain fact of her nakedness and absolute helplessness to 
the whims of this stranger was stimulating the teenager 
to unbelievable highs.
  
   The corridor was deserted but the turned-on Cynthia 
didn't want to leave now.  To her astonishment, the girl 
found herself loving it, all of it.  The writhing 
teenager thrust her hips onto the dildo with a fierce 
enthusiasm now, and deliberately dragged her sensitive 
nipples on the carpeted step.

   Cynthia, flying high on clouds of erotic sensations, 
had lost control.

   "Yes!" she started shouting.  "Oh my God, yes!"

   It was while Cynthia was at this peak of passion that 
she uncomprehendingly heard Penelope yell, "Oh, bloody 
hell.  I'm fucking late!  Shit!  Shit!!  Shit!!!"

   Cynthia, lost to the world, continued to rock and roll 
on the stairs for some time before she realized that the 
wonderful dildo deep within her wasn't moving anymore.  
She chanced a look back over her right shoulder and saw 
with horror a flushed-looking Penelope completely dressed 
and tucking in her shirt.

   "Sorry I can't stay longer, love, but break's over and 
I'll get the sack if I'm not there."

   As she ran down the stairs she called to the 
dumbfounded teenager, who was staring at the departing 
woman with wide eyes and opened mouth, 

   "Take care of Tom for me, will you?"

   Cynthia, finally coming down from her state of 
ecstasy, screamed, "No!  You can't go!  Not now!"

   But it was no use, Penelope had gone.

   "NO!!!" cried the overwrought girl.  "That's not 
fair!"  With one hand, she reached clumsily behind her 
for the dildo and managed to pull it almost all of the 
way out before she lost her balance.  Cynthia tumbled 
down the stairs, ending up face down on the landing 
below.

   "AAHH!" she cried joyously as the force of her fall 
rammed the dildo deep into her receptive cunt, even 
though her breasts were crushed painfully beneath her, 
and the air driven from her lungs.  Winded, she could 
only lay there and try to get her breath back.  Even so, 
she still attempted to start working the dildo in and out 
again my moving her hips.

    Once she was able to breath again, Cynthia flipped 
over on her back and reached with both hands between her 
raised knees and widely opened thighs.  Holding the soft 
rubber base of the dildo, she began the now familiar, 
exciting motion she desired so badly.

   Moving her hips frantically with each stroke of the 
dildo, she quickly regained the sexual high she had been 
on.  Soon beyond the ability for any rational thought, 
uncaring if anyone should use the steps and see her naked 
there, she existed only for the sublime magic of what was 
now happening in her cunt, and that was all.  The 
grunting, sweating, sex-mad animal that had once been the 
haughty teenager called Cynthia Sampson joyously fucked 
itself, while growing crowds of catering staff made 
special pilgrimages to the kitchen stairs to witness the 
amazing performance.   
   The deranged thing on the stairs finally climaxed 
itself into a state of blessed unconsciousness, to the 
cheers and applause of the large crowd of onlookers.
    

   Cynthia awoke with a splitting headache.  She opened 
her eyes to find herself laying nude and covered with 
drying sweat on a landing in the kitchen stair case.

   "What am I doing here?" she wailed.  Cynthia raised 
her head and saw with horror that something was deeply 
embedded in her poor ravaged pussy.

   "Oh my God!" she mumbled as she reached between her 
legs for the offending device.  She gingerly pulled it 
out of her, her eyes crossing in pain as the small knobs 
on the sides of the dildo rubbed against her dry hyper-
sensitive vaginal walls.  She quickly tossed it away from 
her as the name "Long Tom" surfaced in her mind, and then 
she remembered.  

   "OH GOD!!" she screamed.  "What have I done??"

   Angry with herself and aching all over, the exhausted 
teenager retrieved her gown and shoes from the floor and 
staggered naked up the stairs.  She almost reached the 
top landing when she paused for a moment, then turned 
around and went back for the hated dildo she had left on 
the landing.

   She wasn't sure why she made herself go back for this 
ravager of her body.  It was only because of the faintest 
of thoughts, one she herself was hardly aware of.  It was 
due to her subconscious, thinking that such a thing just 
might prove quite useful to have around in the future.

   She went slowly back up the stair and limped on down 
the deserted corridor to her bedroom.  Once inside, she 
spitefully threw everything onto her bed.

   The beautiful gown she had loved so well had brought 
her nothing but bad luck since the very beginning, and 
she wanted nothing more to do with it.

   She looked with hatred at the dildo laying on her 
clean white coverlet, the dildo still gleaming with her 
body's secretions.  Cynthia shook her head with 
bewilderment when her vagina began to throb hopefully.  

   "Doesn't it ever end?" she wailed.

   Reflexively, she turned from her bed and went to stand 
in front of her full length mirror.  She looked with 
disgust at her disheveled reflection in the mirror.

   "My God!  I'm a wreck!" she cried, and hurried into 
her bathroom for some badly needed repair work. 

   She stood under a hot shower for twenty minutes and 
tried to wash the last three days completely away.  It 
didn't work, but she felt a little better, anyway.  The 
headache was gone and a lot of the muscle soreness had 
left her body.  Yet some effects still remained.

   Her breasts had never felt this tender.  Every 
movement they made became a minor agony for her.  She had 
to get them in a bra and fast.

   Even more strange was the effect her ravaged pussy had 
on her.  Cynthia was astonished.  It actually hurt her to 
walk!  It practically twanged with every step she took.

   She turned off the steaming torrent of water and just 
stood there, trying to think of what to do next.

   She knew she couldn't remain in her room, because her 
mother had already been up here at least once looking for 
her.  Her only desire at the moment was to find a nice, 
public yet quiet place where she could safely go and 
spend the remainder of this terrible evening.

   The water, either at the beach or by the family pool, 
had always been her favorite place to seek in times of 
emotional crisis.  So, she would follow through on her 
original idea and go to the pool.  It would be perfect.
  
   She put on her most modest bikini.  It wasn't even a 
thong (she kept it around only for family occasions), so 
she would be perfectly safe.  She wrapped herself in a 
short terry robe and beach slippers, and dejectedly stole 
her usual back way through the kitchen for the pool.


   There was a mini-bar setup at the pool for the party.  
Cynthia stopped there first for a large chilled glass of 
wine, then proceeded to the pool.  Cynthia set up a 
lounge chair in one of the darkest corners of the area, 
where she could observe all that was going on at the 
pool, without herself being observed.  She kept her robe 
on against the slight chill of the night air.

   Cynthia calmly sipped her wine, and watched the guests 
having fun, forming the perfect picture of beautiful 
blonde contentment.  Only a slight, occasional tremor in 
the hand holding her glass told of the inner distress she 
was going through.
  
   "What is happening to me?" her stunned mind wondered.  
People, total strangers were using her body with 
impunity, that is, when she wasn't using it herself!

   It took her some time to develop the necessary 
courage, but she was finally able to face the fact that 
was troubling her the most.

    "Why, oh why, do I like it so much?  What's wrong 
with me?"

   Her sexual experiences, she had to admit for all of 
her brave show, had been practically nonexistent until 
now.  She had always loved to tease, of course, but the 
occasional inept fumbling in some guy's car had scared 
her beyond belief, and she would never go with those guys 
again.

   But the events of the past three days had changed all 
of that forever.  She had gone from a life of almost no 
sex to one of nearly constant stimulation and even 
orgasms.
  
   "Good God!"  she muttered.  Just thinking about it 
like this was causing her to be wet again!  Great.  Now 
she would have to swim soon so that no one would notice.

   It was all too much for her.  Cynthia's tired and 
shattered mind did not have an answer.

   She just couldn't think about anything anymore.  Her 
head was starting to hurt again.  Before her swim, she 
resolved to enjoy the peacefulness of the evening.  Maybe 
it could help to calm her down a little.  After sipping 
some more wine, the emotionally drained girl set her 
glass down next to the chair, and closed her eyes for a 
quick nap.


   A woman carrying an iced drink came upon the sleeping 
teenager quite late in the evening.
  
   She had been looking for her for some time.  The pool 
bar had closed long ago and the swimmers had all gone 
back indoors.  The pool area was for the moment deserted, 
the lights dimmed.

   The woman sat on the edge of the girl's chair.  She 
untied Cynthia's belt and carefully opened the robe.  She 
was impressed.  The latent sexuality of this woman-child 
was clearly visible for all to see.  The tell-tale stain 
on the bikini bottoms only served to confirm her 
impressions.
 
    She took a large ice cube from the glass and placed 
it on the tip of the sleeping Cynthia's left breast, 
covered by her bikini top.  When the girl stirred 
uneasily, the woman placed it on her right breast.  At 
her second stirring, the woman threw the cube away.  
Taking a fresh one from the glass, the woman placed it 
directly on Cynthia's vulva, clearly showing under the 
tight material of her bikini bottoms, and held it there 
until the cube was completely melted.

   The woman observed the sleeping girl closely.  By now 
Cynthia's had become rapid, and her hips were undulating 
slightly.  The woman placed a slim hand between the 
girl's tapered thighs and began to gently rub where her 
sex was covered by the suit.  She smiled when the 
teenager moaned softly, and continued to rub.


   Cynthia awoke feeling dangerously tingly.  Once the 
most exciting feeling in the world for her, tonight it 
had become the constant prelude to absolute disaster:  
her assured humiliation at the hands of others.

   She could see the dark shape of a person sitting next 
to her, she could feel, even through her strangely damp 
suit, the now familiar thrilling touch of someone 
touching her sex.

   "How dare they!" the indignant girl thought as she sat 
up.  Yet, furious with herself, she felt her body still 
responding to each delicious caress, weakening her will 
to resist.

   Holding her trembling body erect by leaning on her 
hands, Cynthia tried to shout, "STOP THAT!" as loud as 
she could, but it came out of the flustered girl's mouth 
more as a nervous squeak.

   "Is that any way to greet an old friend?" asked the 
woman, calmly continuing her steady work between the 
girl's sculptured thighs.

   "JUNE!" Cynthia gasped, breathless, as she finally 
recognized her well-dressed assailant. "What are you 
doing?"

   "You," she replied calmly, using her left hand to pull 
aside the girl's crotch strap and sliding four fingers of 
her right hand into Cynthia's moist vaginal passage.  "On 
the other hand, if you mean, 'What are you doing here?', 
that's another matter."

   Shaking, the girl stood up from her chair, but June 
kept a firm grip on Cynthia's bikini bottom.  She 
couldn't leave now without loosing the bottom half of her 
suit!

  The fingers in the teenager's vagina began to have 
their deadly effect on her nervous system, and she found 
she could only stand there, trembling in confusion.

   June pulled the robe from the passive girl's shoulders 
and it fell to her feet.

   "What... What do you want?" Cynthia stammered, trying 
to find the necessary strength to break away from this 
delicious contact, and failing.

   "OH!!" she cried as June expertly flicked the girl's 
erect clitoris.  Cynthia's knees failed her as she 
orgasmed and she fell face down across June's waiting lap 
as June withdrew her hand from the girl's spasming pussy 
and released her hold on the suit.

   "That... that wasn't fair!" the twitching Cynthia 
wailed as her vagina pumped her fluids into the tight 
bikini bottoms.

   "You're right.  Now comes your message from Mickey," 
and June struck the jerking, weeping girl soundly across 
her left ass cheek.

   "What!"  the shocked Cynthia exclaimed.

   "Next time remember to say 'ma'am', idiot!" as June 
started raining blows upon the girl's raised hillocks 
which were only protected by the thin, tight material of 
the bikini.

   "Whaaa!" bawled the devastated teenager, finally 
reduced by the combined climax and spanking to the 
emotional level a small child.

   June continued her spanking of Cynthia's quivering 
buttocks, while the teenager helplessly shook and 
spasmed.

   In time June was done, and she gently caressed the 
stinging globes with her right hand as Cynthia weakly 
whimpered, "I'll be good, ma'am.  I'll be good from now 
on.  Honest!"
  
   June stood the teenager on her feet and June moved up 
alongside her.  The woman ran her hands openly over 
Cynthia's body, starting from the top of her head and 
ending at her toes.  The girl could only stand with her 
head bowed, her face thankfully hidden by her thick 
hanging hair, and repeat, "I'll be good," as the woman 
openly explored her perfect, firm young body.

   June untied the skimpy bikini and flung both pieces  
into the center of the pool.  

   "You will not be needing these anymore," the woman 
told her.  She once again slowly inspected the girl.

   "Yes," said the girl peacefully, as if speaking in a 
pleasant dream.

   "You belong to us, now."
   "Yes."

   "You will do and wear exactly what we say, and when."
   "Yes."

   "We have great plans for you, you lucky thing.  You 
have a great deal in store ahead of you."

   Cynthia drew herself erect, with her shoulders back. 
  
   She stood proudly for a moment, looking magnificent as 
her nude body gleamed in the faint light of the pool.  

   "Yes, of course," she said regally. 


     Princess of the Blood Royal, Cynthia de Sampson, 
stood proudly in front of her adoring subjects, their 
cries of adulation ringing triumphantly in her ears.  
Although very young, the Princess stood calmly and 
without fear in the presence of such large, tumultuous 
crowds.

   Like the future ruler she was, Princess Cynthia stood 
patiently and did not mind the wait, as her kindly Royal 
Guardian would eventually tell her what to do next.