Message-ID: <19520eli$9902010427@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: LCDRJMC@aol.com Subject: [lcdrjmc] NEW: Bountiful Plantation 1/6 (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 [1/6] (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 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! End Part I -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----