Date: Wed, 17 Mar 1999 08:07:34 EST
From: LCDRJMC@aol.com
Subject: Bountiful Plantation (F+/F, reluc) by lcdrjmc@aol.com

Standard Disclaimer:  This is a work of erotic fiction.
It is intended for Adults Only, so if you're
not-- then go away.  It is not intended for sale, but if
you'd like to pass it around, feel free.  Just keep the
text and header as is and all will be well.  Enjoy!


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.


   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.


End of Story