Message-ID: <19519eli$9902010427@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: LCDRJMC@aol.com Subject: [lcdrjmc] NEW: Bountiful Plantation 6/6 (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: <386ed9d2.36b4244e@aol.com> [lcdrjmc] Subject: NEW: Bountiful Plantation [6/6] (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 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 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----