Part IV
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, 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 why 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 of 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, kicked off her shoes, 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 crotchband 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's happening to
me?" she wondered.
After almost driving past it, she drove down the off-
ramp and took the road 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 incredible pressure building in her crotch.
When her car hit the inclined drive leading to her
home, the slight jolt of her vulva pressing on the seat
was enough to start her to orgasm. "No!" she yelled
helplessly as she almost hit her father's expensive new
car parked in front of the garage. "Not now!"
Shaking, she was just able to park in her own spot in
the 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. "What's happening to me?"
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 short skirt up over her waist, her
hands clutched tightly over the narrow crotchband of her
tiny panties, as she tried desperately the stop the
endless succession of quakes engulfing her.
It was well after Midnight when the exhausted teenager
finally was 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 of the next day 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 of her
identification, including her driver's license, were 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 was 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 downtown
called Bountiful Plantation."
"OK, Cyn'. Now, why was it I had to postpone an
excellent game of tennis that took me a month to arrange
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,
OK?"
"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 the other day, 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 matching 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, even with her belt, 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. She knew that she
could handle herself very well, thank you. Yet, while
she was dressing and carefully applying her makeup, there
was the strangest trembling sensation coming from the pit
of her tummy. She could not understand it. There was
nothing to worry about, if that was what it was. Nothing
at all.
She was being so careful about everything, even in
what she wore, that she wondered if she were overdoing it
a little. They were just stupid clerks after all, and
certainly no match for Miss Cynthia Sampson!
Still, careful or not, there was no point in looking
bland. She chose her black ribbed top because, not only
was it terribly tight, the pull-over showed off her
tanned bare arms and blonde hair to striking advantage.
She also selected her most subtle perfume, the very
expensive stuff that was so devastating to the opposite
sex. She even thought about changing her plain underwear
for something much sexier, then decided against it. She
looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror and shook
her well-groomed golden head slightly in wonder. What
could she be thinking? She was acting almost as if she
were getting ready for a very important date, instead of
finally being able to put two silly salespeople in their
proper place. Take advantage of her again, will they?
Fat chance!
Cynthia even hoped that they would try something with
them. Like her, Kathryn was a smart cookie who could
spot a sneaky guy trying to pull a fast one on her a mile
away, so these lowly salespeople 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, threaten them with the police if she had to,
then leave. It was that simple.
Not that anything would happen, of course. They
wouldn't dare try anything with the two of them there.
The girls walked confidently into the cool, dim
showroom of Bountiful Plantation. Cynthia's carefully
cultivated air of cool superiority was wasted because
there was no one in the room to appreciated it.
"What are they trying to pull here, anyway?" Cynthia
thought indignantly. Every time she set herself up for a
big scene, people always ran out on her!
"Oohhh!" breathed Kathryn, eyeing the racks of elegant
clothes. "What neat stuff!"
"Don't get any 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
elegant clothes. "Maybe try a few things on while we're
waiting?"
"NO! I mean, we really don't have the time for that."
"Sure we do."
"Listen, I have to be…"
"Hey, if I can miss something, so can you."
"But…!"
"My God! All the labels say the same thing,
'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 as she fingered the expensive fabrics.
A demure young woman whom 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,"
demanded Cynthia haughtily.
"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. She couldn't tell if she
was more worried about meeting Mickey and June again or
the possibility of being stuck with having to buy the
stupid dress after all. "Come on, Kath'." At least she
would not have to do it alone.
"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, yet very
well organized in spite of the apparent clutter. Along
the walls were placed floor-length mirrors at regular
intervals. At the large raised center table sat Mickey
and June on stools, with their backs to the door.
"Ah, excuse me!" Cynthia 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. "Where's my dress? The clerk said it was back
here."
Cynthia's dainty aristocratic nostrils flared in
distain as she watched the menials work. How could she
have gotten all worked up over these two cows? How silly
was that?
The women said nothing as they continued with their
work. Finally, without turning around Mickey raised her
right hand and sharply motioned in a familiar gesture 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, ordering me around, she has
another think coming!" the indignant Cynthia muttered.
She quietly walked over to where the two women sat,
trying not to be obvious about protecting her already
tingling behind, 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.
Ignoring everything else, she stared transfixed at the
fabulous dress.
"Wow," she whispered.
"Nice, isn't it?" Mickey said huskily as she placed
her left arm around the teenager's narrow waist. But
Mickey was not looking at the dress at all, but rather
those cute form-fitting jeans and thinking about what lay
inside.
"There you are!" exclaimed the smiling June. She laid
out the dress formally across the wide table. "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, closing the door behind her,
leaving only Cynthia and Mickey in the room.
Cynthia couldn't take her hungry eyes off of the
dress. It was wonderful! 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.
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Mickey.
"What? What's wrong?" exclaimed a worried Cynthia.
"Well, looking at how your jeans fit, I'm just hoping
we got the measurements right."
"How they fit? What's wrong with how they fit?"
"Oh, my. Never mind. Forget I said anything. It's
okay, we'll work around it."
"Oh, no. What's wrong with them? Do I look fat? I
bet I look fat."
"Honey, you look fine, honest. Listen, you look at
this fine job we did for you, and I'll look you over,
just to make sure everything's all right."
The teen leaned over the table to look at the dress as
Mickey quickly unfastened the girl's wide belt, pulled it
from her waist, and dropped it to the floor. Mickey
carefully moved her hands over the teenager's firmly
rounded buttocks. Cynthia, lost in the wonder of the
dress, obediently leaned further over the table when
Mickey pulled on her hips. Mickey then used both hands
to comfortably knead Cynthia's tightly packed buttocks.
"Nice, isn't it?" purred Mickey.
"Oh, yes!" gushed the teen. "It's wonderful!"
Cynthia was totally oblivious to what was happening
around her. She knew that the old hag was fiddling with
her expensive jeans ("Oh God, please don't let me look
fat!"), but that was only to make sure her sizes were
correct. Nothing was going to happen, not this time.
She was completely lost in lush fantasies of her at any
school party 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 straight floor-length skirt, long tight
sleeves and a high neckline and tight bodice. 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 and dress
inserts 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 and moved it
back and forth between them as the other openly kneaded
the half-moons. "She's quite a cupcake. You and she
aren't…?"
"Aren't what?" Cynthia asked dreamily, still lost in
her new dress. The dress was have quite an effect on
her, as if she were feeling a little sexy.
"Seeing each other?" added Mickey mischievously,
remembering how the girls bickered as they came into the
store while watching them on the security monitor.
"What!" Cynthia sputtered, coming out of her dress
fantasies when she finally realized what this terrible
woman was asking her. "NO! Of course not! We're not
like that at all!"
"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 distantly. She
was feeling so nice and sexy with her new dress that she
was lost to her surroundings and never noticed how June
come into the room carrying Kathryn's tennis outfit,
shoes, and socks. The woman placed the stack 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 short 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. "I thought…I thought…, well, never mind."
"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 eagerly removed her top while Mickey went back
to pulling down the girl's jeans.
While the teen was tangled in her top, Mickey moved up
her right hand without looking to Cynthia's bra and
easily opened the back fastener. When the girl pulled
her top over her head and down off her arms, she was
astonished to see her bra go with it! Oh God! Oh God!
She was topless!
"No, wait!" Cynthia cried as she bent to retrieve her
errant underwear with her right arm while trying to cover
her exposed quivering tits with her left.
"Stand still, will you?" growled Mickey. "I haven't
finished yet."
"But my…my…!"
"Put your arms down and hold still," the woman said
softly and gently patted the girl's still-covered
buttocks.
Not wanting another terrible spanking, Cynthia
immediately obeyed her. "Oh! Please be quick!" she
pleaded.
"As quick as I can, honey," laughed Mickey as she
continued to play with the girl's jeans.
Standing as quietly as she could, Cynthia tried to
ignore the fact that this lowly clerk was undressing her
once again, even if it was part of the fitting process.
It was such a fabulous dress, she had to have it and
would do whatever it took to do so. But she could not
help but notice that the woman had to repeatedly run her
hand between her upper thighs in her struggle to take off
her tight jeans, sometimes inside the jeans and sometimes
out, but always inadvertently rubbing Cynthia's sensitive
crotch covered by the thin panties in the process. Of
course she knew that it was accidental. Nothing was
going to happen. Not this time. Not with Kathryn right
next door. Still, 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,
especially as her panties had somehow worked their way
deep into the crack of her ass and had also wedged their
way equally deep into her throbbing pussy lips. As if
that weren't enough, her bare nipples had become
ridiculously hard (must be the cold air in the room, she
thought), and the teen prayed that the saleswoman would
not notice her strange condition.
Cynthia was just going to ask if she could adjust her
underwear when Mickey's hand managed to flick Cynthia's
erect hyper-sensitive clitoris covered by her thin
panties just once too often.
"Oh NO! Not again!" Cynthia cried as the orgasm hit
the unsuspecting teenager. Stunned, she could only hang
desperately onto the work table as her body betrayed her
yet again, her vagina uncontrollably pulsing copious
amounts of girl-cum onto the inserted crotch band of her
tight bikini panties.
After hanging up the dress, Mickey helped her to lay
face down on the table while the fantastic sensations
continued to rule the teen's being. As Cynthia shuddered
helplessly from her unexpected orgasm, Mickey used the
opportunity to pull the helpless girl's jeans, running
shoes and socks completely off of her twitching legs and
drop everything to the floor.
When she was finally aware of her surroundings once
again, wearing just her terribly soiled panties, Cynthia
was able to only lay dumbfounded, her bare breasts
pressed fully against the cold top of the table. "Why
does this keep happening to me??" she wondered in
despair. She raised her head to look for her missing
clothes but couldn't find them on the table at all.
"There you go again," Mickey said reprovingly. "You
do realize that if you do…that thing you keep doing while
wearing this dress, you will permanently ruin it?"
"I'm so sorry!" the devastated teenager sobbed,
totally humiliated, all thought of getting dressed again
forgotten. "I just can't seem to help it!"
"Let's get you cleaned off first, girl. Then we'll
see about the dress. Time to get up."
Mickey helped the crying teen off of the table.
Completely devastated, Cynthia stood with bowed head and
could only watch passively in horror as Mickey pulled off
the soaked panties. She was so embarrassed, it was like
she had just wet herself. It was not suppose to be like
this. How had she gotten so out of control?
"These are a goner," Mickey observed as she looked
closely at the wet crotch, inhaling the sweet aroma.
Cynthia could not watch any longer and covered her face
with her hands. She was such a slut.
Mickey rubbed the panties over each of the girl's
vulnerable nipples and loved the way she jumped at the
contact. She carefully placed the panties aside for
future fun and got some damp paper towels from the
store's restroom.
Seating the shaky teen on a stool, Mickey 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 dropped her hands and looked down her naked
body in shock as Mickey eagerly cleaned her pussy between
her lewdly splayed thighs. Oh no! She felt terrible! A
shopkeeper had to clean her bare privates like she was a
helpless baby! Yet mixed with her intense feelings of
utter humiliation, she soon noticed other, more wonderful
if unwanted sensations coming from her burning crotch.
She tried desperately to ignore them, but it was
impossible!
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 her shamelessly 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. The room seemed to
be spinning a bit but otherwise she felt just fine. A
voice kept saying, "You must wear the gown for your
father's party."
"Wha…?"
"Wear the gown at the party."
"Can't. Mom would kill. Hates me without underwear.
Dad too."
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. She would order her to stop in a minute.
"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.
"Oh!" Cynthia gasped at the unexpected contact with her
sex.
"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. But first you had better take a shower.
You are very sweaty right now and you could easily stain
the dress."
"I'm…I'm sorry!" wailed a humiliated Cynthia. She
felt miserable. Normally she was picture perfect. How
could she have gotten so dirty?
Full of trepidation, Cynthia got off the table and
walked over to where the magnificent gown was hanging.
"What if I'm not good enough? What if I'm too fat for
it?" she agonized to herself. "What will I do then? I
want this dress more than anything!"
Turning shyly to Mickey, she lowered her head in shame
and asked quietly, "Where can I wash?"
"There's a shower and some towels in that utility
closet over there. And I have some special powder for
you too, when you are done. Helps absorb moisture."
"Thank you."
As she padded naked the across the room, a dazed
Cynthia thought, "Oh God! I must be sweating like a
horse! How awful!"
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!" She looked guiltily at
the pile of clothes. "Maybe I should have told her about
this place after all."
"Is my friend still out front?" Cynthia asked.
"She and the girls had a very productive time, but,
she got bored some time 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 OK then. But what about her clothes?"
"Didn't want them. Allison fixed her up with
something special. 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 easily 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.