Message-ID: <19518eli$9902010427@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: LCDRJMC@aol.com Subject: [lcdrjmc] NEW: Bountiful Plantation 4/6 (F+/F) Reluc by lcdrjmc@aol.com Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: [lcdrjmc] Subject: NEW: Bountiful Plantation [4/6] (F+/F) Reluc by lcdrjmc@aol.com Standard Disclaimer: This is a work of erotic fiction. It is intended for Adults Only, so if you're not--then go away. It is not intended for sale, but if you'd like to pass it around, feel free. Just keep the text and header as is and all will be well. Enjoy! Bountiful Plantation: Part 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. End Part IV -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----