RP my collection of the amazing LCDRJMC - bountiful-plantation.txt (1/1)

[Spitfire]

From: LCD...@aol.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Subject: NEW: Bountiful Plantation (F+/F) Reluc
Date: 1 Feb 1999 09:27:39 GMT

================

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 Part VI

End of Story

[Spitfire]