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Liza's New Life Ch. 01

By: shyones



I sat in the car wearing a small, tight-fitting string bikini with just the tiniest robe that was trying its best to be a cover up. At the wheel sat an eighteen-year-old boy dressed in the casual garb of a ship's captain. We were on our way to his dad's boat for a day of sailing.

"And you must always say 'bulkhead,' never 'wall,' and port is left and starboard is right," his lecture on nautical nomenclature continued ad nauseam.

"Yes, I know. You told me that two blocks ago," I finally interrupted. "What I want to know is why you convinced my husband to send me with you, today. What's this thing you need help with? You said on the phone that Jake needed me."

"Yeah. Like I told Marc, Jake and I have something you need to help us with. It has to do with his girlfriend."

"Yes?" I brought out tentatively, afraid of what I was going to hear next.

"Oo! Oo! Flash that guy in the car." Sam shouted. "Hurry, before the light changes!"

"Oh, god," I said in resignation as I undid my seatbelt and shifted in my seat to present my chest to the window. 

My movements caught the eye of the Mustang's driver, and I quickly pulled the narrow cups of my top to the side. The light changed, Sam sped away, and I recovered my nipples and settled back in the seat.

"Great!" Sam was excited. "That was so great."

How I, a married woman more than half a decade his senior, came to be in this situation is a long story. Suffice it to say that it all began when I accidentally saw Sam naked, coming out of the shower. Well, it was decided that I had incurred a certain...debt. His friend Jake saw it happen, so he was in on it, too. Well, the three of them, my husband and Sam and Jake, decided that to pay the debt I had to show myself to them. Marc stood me in front of the two boys and removed my dress. I was mortified, humiliated, but it might not have been such a big deal, such a life-changing event, had it not ignited something in Marc. He found that he really liked showing me off to others, and I found I loved him too much to say, "No." Things got both strange and complicated after that, as the boys saw to it that other debts were incurred, and made me promise to pay them. On top of the debts were often added penalties for minor infractions, and my promises to pay them became more and more complex. No, complex is not the correct word at all, because the promises that brought me to this point were so simple, actually, that they could be printed on a small anklet which even now hung above my foot, tickling and teasing me. "Anything," "No limits," "Anytime," "I promise," were the words inscribed on it, and on my conscience, my strict conscience which makes me keep every promise, to the letter.

We pulled into the marina before Sam answered my question.

"Liza," Sam said, "I want you to leave your robe open as we walk to the boat."

I knew what that would mean, and an anxious knot formed in my stomach. The bikini was so tight, and made of such a salacious material, that it outlined my pussy lips and defined my slit as if its purpose were indeed to call attention to my pudenda, not cover them. The docks, even on this weekday morning, were bustling, but I held my tongue, gathered my courage, and pulled the sides of my robe apart as I got out of the car.

"Actually, maybe it would just be better if we left it here. You won't need it on the boat, anyway." Sam slid the robe from my shoulders and down my arms. The outline of my nipples became visible as they strained against the flimsy material of the top, still firm from their recent airing. He threw the robe into the car, shut the door and locked it. "Yes, that's better. Much better." He looked me up and down with a delighted smile, but I could only cringe at the thought of my appearance in this tiny bikini with a small purse slung over my shoulder by a strap, and matching high heels.

He held me at the waist as we walked. I encircled his waist with my arm in turn, not knowing what else to do. I wanted to cover myself with my hands, move my purse to my crotch, but I knew I couldn't; that would violate the terms of the deal. The gaze of the men walking toward us never left my body. Those working on their boats beside the dock stopped to watch us pass. I tried to look nonchalant, then fixed my eyes on the horizon, then watched my feet for a while, all the time hoping that surly the next boat must be his.

"Sam, please tell me what you want me to do," I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer.

"Hi, Liza!" Jake called from the yacht at the very end of the dock, waving enthusiastically.

"Hi, Jake!" I yelled back, waving with my free hand.

The blonde in the denim skirt and t-shirt beside him waved, too. The distance between us caused an awkward pause between initial greeting and actual arrival, and it also served to make worse the anticipation of their first recognition of my nipples and pussy against the fabric of my bikini.

"Well?" I prodded Sam.

"You see Lynn, there?"

"Yes."

"Before the day is over, I want to see her naked. You are going to help us."

"What? How? Does Jake really want you to see his girl?"

"Of course," he replied naturally. "How to do it we haven't a clue. We'll come up with something, though, and you'll help."

'Oh, god,' I thought to myself. 'My life just gets more and more bizarre.'

Jake and Lynn were exchanging chitchat and friendly laughter as Sam and I grew near. I studied Lynn's face and searched for the expected shock at my attire, but her soft smile never changed as we were finally close enough for formal introductions. Sam had me remove my shoes before I stepped aboard, and it occurred to me that I hadn't been out of the car five minutes and already I'd lost two articles of clothing. I feared what else I would lose before the day was over.

Lynn offered me her hand as Sam and I came aboard. I shook it marveling at its delicateness. She was delicate all over, actually. She was short, tiny in very sense. If I hadn't been told she was eighteen, I would have taken her for a twelve-year-old. Under the half t-shirt that exposed her cute little tummy, I detected only the slightest suggestion of breasts. The denim skirt rode low on her hips, in the style of preteens who want to look grown-up. 

When I released her hand, the most extraordinary thing happened: she slipped it inside the waistband of Jake's shorts, and down the front. From the bulge it was obvious that she had a handful of everything down there.My eyes became as large as saucers, but I said nothing. Jake winced slightly, but otherwise made no show that he had just been grabbed by the balls. Sam acted as if he didn't notice at all, but I thought I detected a flash of envy.

"So," Lynn said to me, "Jake and Sam tell me you posed naked for them."

I expected the subject to come up, but I didn't think it would be the first thing out of her mouth. From the inflection of her voice I couldn't tell whether she was questioning me, insulting me, or challenging me. I just stared at her; my jaw dropped.

"Well, uh...I had to," I stammered under my breath.

I looked to Sam for help, but he was determined to be a silent spectator. I didn't expect much from Jake, assuming that something probably had him by the tongue as well as elsewhere. 

"What?" Lynn asked.

I couldn't tell whether she hadn't heard or was simply incredulous. I didn't know how to respond.

"Did you really?" She prodded. 

I saw her hand shift inside Jake's shorts. I was sure she was squeezing her boyfriend, but he was silent, obviously trying hard to pretend that nothing was happening down there.

"Yes," was all I could manage. I shrugged my shoulders in a display of confusion and resignation.

"Yes? You mean you did? It's true? You really went naked?" 

Her expression changed from quizzical to delight when I gave a simple nod.

"Lynn, why don't you take Liza below and help her stow her shoes and purse while Jake and I get underway? She'll tell you all about it, I'm sure," Sam finally spoke. "Oh, and find some sun block for her, too."

She drew her hand from Jake's crotch and, with that same hand, took me by the arm. Her fingers were wet. She led me from the cockpit down a short ladder to a large and well-appointed area below decks. I stood and surveyed the compartment as Lynn searched for the lotion. A small table by a radio transmitter with charts on it was to the side, and I laid my things on it. A couch was along the far bulkhead, and a galley was on the other side. Passageways leading to small berths were at the corners, and even a tiny toilet could be seen in another compartment. I could hear the boys' voices above, shouting to one another about ropes and this and that. I felt the boat rock and an engine start. I braced myself against the table and held onto it as we got underway.

"You'll get your sea legs," Lynn remarked and smiled at my uneasiness. "First time?"

"Yeah, this is a first for me. I never realized there was so much room on one of these boats. It's like a small apartment."

"Yeah, well, this is a nice one. Sam's dad has plenty of money."

"I didn't know..."

"We have Dramamine if you need it."

"I'll see how it goes. Sam promised the ocean would be like glass, today."

"So, do you like to go naked? Is it exciting?"

That the subject was back on that I found disconcerting, and I fell silent. I bowed my head.

"We have ways of making you talk," she said in a mock-German accent.

I raised my eyes to hers and couldn't help but smile. Her attempt at humor was reassuring, and I felt suddenly more comfortable in my new surroundings.

"I was with Sam and Jake when they bought the anklet. I know the whole story." Lynn seemed pleased with herself, like a twelve-year-old with a secret.

"What did they tell you?" I blurted out.

"That your own husband stripped you to punish you for being a peeping perv."

"I'm not..." 

I stopped in mid-sentence. I knew that it was useless to try to defend myself. I hoped that if I just dropped it, perhaps she would, too.

"Show me what they saw," Lynn demanded, obviously wanting to escalate things, not drop them.

"I don't know what you mean," I stammered, hoping I had misunderstood her.

"Take off your bikini. That's what you do, isn't it?"

Well, there could be no feigning ignorance now. What she wanted was perfectly clear, and my comfort level plummeted. I just couldn't believe that I was standing before this child being told to undress. I was baffled and couldn't move.

"I know the meaning of the anklet," she pointed to it. "You have to do it. I know you do. You promised."

I took a deep breath to compose myself. I glanced at the ladder leading topside, wondering if a reprieve might come from the cockpit, but I knew it was hopeless. I knew that if they knew what was happening they would just make me do it all the faster.  

I slowly reached for the tie on the string at the back of my neck. A gentle tug caused the cups of my top to fall. My nipples stood firm and erect, glad to be freed from their pressing captivity. Lynn's gaze was steady.

I reached behind my back to loosen the tie at the base of the cups and the whole piece fell to my feet. I relaxed my arms and let them dangle at my sides, as naturally as possible. I wanted my body language to convey to her both contempt and nonchalance.

What happened next I never could have expected: Lynn fell to her knees in front of me, but certainly not in a worshipful attitude. She grabbed the sides of my swimsuit bottom and pushed it down my hips and legs. It lay at my feet before I could even think what was happening. She stared into my shaved pussy, studying it. Even I, a torso away, could smell my arousal. My cheeks flamed at the knowledge that her nose was just inches from my sex, inhaling the answer to her question: "Yes, it's exciting to get naked."

"I didn't believe it! You do shave down here!" Lynn shouted. "Oh, my God! I just didn't believe it."

What I couldn't believe was that I was actually standing with my swimsuit around my ankles, being examined by this nymphet. I cursed that damned anklet now hidden in the puddle of my bikini. 

Lynn ran her finger over my pussy.

"Wow, it's smooth," she exclaimed. "How often do you shave it?"

I squirmed at her touch, but was able to mutter through clenched teeth, "Every couple of days."

"I've never seen such a thing. I just can't believe it. Why do you do it?" Lynn continued to stare into my pussy.

"It's for my husband, Marc. He likes it," I replied with the best tone of a martyr I could muster. 

"Wow! You look younger than me like this!" She started giggling and rolled backward onto her heels. "Now that's something!"

When she started laughing I felt more self-conscious than ever. Hoping that the examination was done I bent over, grasped the bikini bottom at my feet and began to pull it up.

"Oh, no you don't!" She grabbed the suit before it reached my calves. "Take it off, all the way off."

She brought it back down to the floor and made me step out of it. She took it and my top, wadded them up in a ball, opened a porthole and chucked them into the ocean. My eyes grew and my breath stopped, but I said nothing. 

"That's the end of that!" Lynn proclaimed proudly. "Now, let's go up on deck and I'll put some sun block on you."

I obediently followed her up the ladder, but I did so hesitantly, with my head on a swivel wondering who, beside the boys, might see me. At the top of the ladder Sam and Jake stopped what they were doing to voice their approval of my nakedness, but Lynn hustled us past them. She led me to the bow, instructing me how and where to place each foot with every step. I was relieved to see that we had already sailed beyond the breakwater and no boats were close enough to tell I was naked. At the bow was a large flat area that seemed designed for sunbathing. A towel was already stretched over a large cushion and she had me lie on it. 

The sea was truly like glass. It was incredibly beautiful and the chatter of gulls could be heard above us. 'I could really get used to this,' I thought to myself. I looked at the shore in the distance and marveled at the sight, then the first bit of cold lotion hit my back.

"I guess I'll have to spread this on every single inch of you, huh?" Lynn teased. "It's all the cover you'll get today, huh?" She cackled, quite pleased with her cleverness. "Do you like this? Being touched all over?" She just wouldn't stop taunting me.

Her fingers slipped between my ass checks and I jumped.

"I found a sensitive area, huh?" 

"Umm," is all I could mutter.

"Hey, it looks pretty red down here. What's up with that?" Lynn remarked.

That there could be signs of my first anal experience, just about an hour ago, never occurred to me. Her touch in that area brought the memory back with a jolt. Suddenly the little girl touching my butt, the boat, the boys, everything disappeared for me. All I could think about was the spatula handle that had been thrust far into my bowels. All I wanted was for the spatula to be there again. I looked for nearby objects that might be shoved into my butt, filling me wonderfully as before, but there was nothing. Acting only on a mindless ache, I reached back, caught Lynn's hand and pressed it against my rosebud. I pushed myself hard against her hand.

"Hey!" she yelled and pulled away from me. "What in the hell?"

I quickly rolled over and sat up to face her. I held her hands in mine.

"Please don't tell the boys, please!" I begged. "It...it was an accident," I stammered.

Lynn's shock wore off, and she slowly drew her hands from mine and looked at me intently.

"You are full of surprises, aren't you?" she teased.

"You won't say anything, please?" I continued to beg.

"You like that...it...there?" Lynn's eyes were wide.

"Please, you must believe me, it's just something...please," I pleaded, not knowing what to say, how to answer.

"Lie down like you were," she told me.

I didn't move right away. I looked into her eyes and glanced at the boys busy with their rigging at the other end of the boat.

"Do as I say or I'll tell."

I lay down on my stomach, wondering what was going to happen. I looked at her over my shoulder, but she pressed my head forward, making me rest it on my arms now folded beneath my chin. I waited.

A large dollop of sun block landed between my buttocks. It was cool and I jerked. Lynn's warm hand followed, rubbing the lotion at my anus, making my pussy moist and my mind race.

"You like that, huh?" Lynn pressed.

I nodded my head slightly, going mad all the while. 

She bent low and whispered in my ear. "Do you want my finger inside you?" 

I nodded my head, ever so slightly.

Suddenly the engine stopped and a thunderous clanking of chains signaled that the anchor was descending to the depths.

"Hey, you two! We're stopping here while we eat. Come have lunch!" Sam shouted.

"Right there!" Lynn yelled back.

Lynn hurriedly finished my backside and I sat up. We worked together on my front: she spread the lotion on my legs while I did my upper torso and arms. I was glad the question as to who would handle my front had been so neatly resolved, but I couldn't help but wonder what might have been. I longed for that finger, too. As Lynn lead the way back to the cockpit, I couldn't help but reach back and touch my rosebud as we walked. I puckered and pressed. God, I wanted something in there. I noticed an apparatus that looked like a small anvil that was attached to the deck. Rope was wound around it. Its long, shinny aluminum horns seemed just the right length and thickness to fit up my ass. I envisioned myself on my back with my legs in the air pressed up against it, and I imagined the cool metal sliding into me.

"Are you girls hungry?" Sam asked as we stepped carefully into the cockpit. 

I knew better than to try to cover myself in front of the boys, but I couldn't help but dangle one arm in front of my pussy, clinging to some small measure of modesty.

"Starving," Lynn replied. "I skipped breakfast and had hardly any supper at all. What have we got?"

Jake opened the large picnic basket that looked like it had been professionally packed with all sorts of goodies. 

"Wow, this is almost as scrumptious looking as Liza," he said as he began to set the contents on the small table brought up from below.

"Yeah, that's for sure," Sam agreed. "Lynn, I have to congratulate you on getting your new friend out of her bikini so quickly...and to think I was concerned you might object to Liza's lifestyle."

I cringed at the word "lifestyle," but let it pass.

"Well, it was no secret she was going to get naked, today," Lynn laughed. "It's all you and Jake could talk about."

"Still, you're being a good sport."

"Well, I figured I either had to 'get on board' or be left on shore, huh?" Lynn giggled.

"Now that's a refreshing attitude."

"Well, I usually go along with things." She shrugged her shoulders and smiled.

So, where'd you put her suit, anyway? I didn't see it when I went below."

"I threw that sucker overboard!" Lynn said with pride.

"Oh, no!" Jake blurted. "You couldn't have!"

"Why not?" Lynn's expression was that of a child just caught in the act.

"You idiot!" Sam chimed in. "That was a one-of-a-kind suit. Marc is going to kill us. I happen to know what he went through to get it."

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" Lynn shot back. "It's gone now, so just forget it and give me a sandwich."

"No! You don't eat." Sam said sternly.

"What? Give me that." Lynn reached for the nearest sandwich.

"No! You've been bad, so now you're going without." Sam batted away her hand.

"Jake?" Lynn turned to him as a child might run from one parent to the other.

"Lynn, you really shouldn't have thrown..."


Liza's New Life Ch. 01



Lynn didn't give Jake a chance to finish his sentence; she just screeched and ran below. Sam and Jake looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders with a faint smile. 

"What kind do you like, Liza: ham or turkey?"

I chose turkey and he put it on a fancy plate with some potato salad and fruit for me. The boys then asked me to sit in the captain's chair, a tall swiveling seat by the wheel. My plate and coke sat nicely beside it on a little ledge meant for charts. The only catch to my pampered status was that I had to swivel the chair to face the boys who sat at the table. My knees had to be spread far apart.

So, that's how we ate our picnic lunch: I on my perch, displaying my charms to my adoring public, the boys devouring me with their eyes, and Lynn sulking below.

We were almost finished when a large motorboat maneuvered about thirty yards away. Sitting on the high chair, I knew that they could see me, had most likely been spying on us, and I asked Sam if I could go below.

"Hell, no! Give a big wave and a smile," he said.

So I did, wondering all the while what the fine is for nudity at sea. I felt my breasts jiggle as I waved and grew even more self-conscious. I instinctively slammed my knees shut, but Jake was quick to remind me to keep them open. 

The boat came closer. As it did, Jake and Sam stood and yelled to them, "Show us your tits!" Sure enough, a woman in her thirties stood up and lifted her top for the boys. They hooped and hollered.

"Hey, Lynn!" Sam called down the ladder. "Get up here and show your tits to this boat and I'll give you a cookie."

"Go to hell!" came the response.

"Hey, Lynn!" Jake called. "Sam will give you lunch, but you have to throw your clothes overboard first."

"Fat chance!"

"Okay, but that's the deal. Sam's mind is made up. You know how he is."

"Leave me alone!"

The other boat sped away during the exchange between Lynn and the boys. With lunch and the show over, they began to tidy up. Once they stowed everything, they raised the anchor and set about rigging the sails, wanting to catch the breeze that had come up during lunch. They told me I could watch, or sunbathe on the bow, or whatever. I felt suddenly discarded, but also freed. 

"How 'bout if I go down and check on Lynn. Can I take her a plumb?" I asked.

"Well, maybe a plumb would be okay, huh Sam?" Jake tried to be a peacemaker.

"One plumb, but we better see something for it. Liza, you convince her. That's why you're here," Sam reminded me, as if I'd forgotten.

I took the plumb and climbed slowly down the ladder, giving my eyes a chance to adjust to the dimness below. Lynn sat on the couch dabbing her face with a tissue; she had been crying. I held out the plumb for her and smiled. She reached for it greedily and bit into it quickly. The juice went everywhere; even hit me on the belly. I had never seen anybody eat a plumb so fast. She sucked on the pit.

"Why'd you just run away like that?" I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't know, but said, "They treated me like a baby. I just never know what to do when people do that."

"But running away is exactly what a baby would do."

"Yeah, I guess I tend to act how I'm treated."

"That's something we're all guilty of, I suppose. But don't you worry about my bikini. I'm glad you threw it away. I hated the damned thing. Marc though it was cute the way it became transparent when wet."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I'm so hungry," she said softly.

I sat down on the couch beside her and put my arm around her.

"Maybe you should just do what they said."

"What? You mean about my clothes? Were they serious?"

"Yeah, of course. All you have to do is look at me to see they're serious about such things."

"You mean I can't eat unless I..."

"That's the idea."

"Is this how they got your clothes off, by starving you?"

"No," I chuckled, "They used other means with me."

"I could never, never..."

"But it's not like Jake has never seen you naked, right?"

"He hasn't."

"What? I just took it for granted that you two were 'hot n' heavy,' what with that little grab down the pants and all."

"No. I'm a virgin."

"Wow!" is all I could reply.

"Not only have I never let a boy in my pants, but none has ever seen down there, either."

"My, my. You are full of surprises, to quote a friend." I smiled and gave her a little hug with the arm I still had around her shoulders.

"I've made a mess of everything. Jake is going to hate me, now."

"No, we can fix this. We'll give them a quick show and everything will be fine. It wouldn't be so bad to just let them have a look, huh?"

"It would be horrible!"

"No, it's not so bad, really. You get used to it, and besides, Jake lets you play around down there. Isn't it time for a little quid pro quo, or 'tit for tat' in this case?"

I got only a faint smile out of her.

"I never really thought about it like that. Holding on down there is just something I've always done."

"What? Always?"

"Yeah...well, with my brother, anyway. It started when we were young, very young. I don't even remember, we were so little. Mom says it happened first when she was bathing us together in the tub."

"Your mom knows about this?"

"Oh yeah, she knows all about it. She's all for it. She says it keeps Allan in line."

"Allan's your brother?"

"Yeah. He's a year younger than me. You see, Dad died soon after he was born, so Mom had to raise us on her own. I helped her keep my brother in line by keeping a hold on his privates. Little boys can be pretty rambunctious, you know."

I laughed and so did she.

"Didn't he ever retaliate?"

"How? I don't have anything he can grab a hold of. And besides, once I have him in hand, there's nothing he can...or wants to do. You see, I don't do it just to control him. I know how to make it feel good, too. When we're home together I have my hand down his pants most of the time: while we're watching television, or eating, or whatever. We grew up that way."

"My god. I've never heard of such a thing," I marveled. "Isn't it awkward, or uncomfortable?"

"No, not at all. He wears jockeys, and when I put my hand down the front, the jockeys just hold it there; it's like a little nest. It's really nice and warm and comfortable."

"But he must be getting hard all the time!"

"No, after all these years I can control that. When it starts to get hard I know just where to squeeze and how much pressure to apply. But like I said, sometimes I let it get hard and help him get off, just to be nice."

"And you do this to Jake, too?"

"Yeah, but only since the other day when he was at my place. We were in the kitchen, standing beside each other. I was distracted, talking to my Mom, and just without even thinking I reached down his pants, as if he were Allan. He was stunned like a deer in the headlights of a car, but he sure did like it. Mom just laughed and assured him that it was fine with her. So anyway, I kept my hand down there all the way through lunch, with my mom sitting across from us, watching the whole time. Mom says that the woman should always have control of the dumbstick."

"Oh, my god," I laughed and laughed.

Lynn laughed too, and her mood brightened.

"How long have you known Jake and Sam?"

"I met Jake a couple weeks ago. I went to the warehouse where my Mom works – she works for Sam's dad; just started as his secretary – and I saw him loading furniture. He asked me out, and we've been together a lot since."

"So you met Sam through Jake?"

"Yeah, the two are joined at the hip. You get one you get the other."

"You three do a lot together?"

"More and more. We have fun, and Sam provides things Jake and I could never do on our own. Sam can be a little bossy at times, but Jake is a good influence on him. Jake is sweet, and cute. Don't you think?"

"No doubt about that."

"Well, they both probably hate me, now. I'd give anything to have things back the way they were."

"You know," I said, "Instead of going back, maybe it's time to bring your relationship with Jake forward a bit."

"No, forget it. I'm not going to fuck him. No way."

"No, I'm talking about just letting him have a look. I think that's all he really wants, anyway. You know, the boys really are quite gentlemanly about it."

"No," she brought out slowly, "I would be too embarrassed. I'm not like you."

"But there's no need to be embarrassed. Why would you be?"

"My body is not like yours," she said. "You are a woman. They expect to see another woman. I'm just...a little girl."

"Well, you are young looking, but I'm sure..."

"My breasts are tiny and I can't even grow more than a few scraggily hairs down there. It's embarrassing. In high school I could never shower with the other girls in gym class. It was just too humiliating. I felt like such a little girl. Everyone treated me like a kid, and I always felt like one. I never even had a date until Jake."

"Really? Jake is your first?"

"Yeah, but I guess that didn't last long."

"Well, don't give up just yet. We'll come up with a way to make it right." I gave her a little squeeze. "You know, you don't have to be ashamed of your pubic hair. It's perfectly natural for blondes to be sparse down there. I don't have much of a bush either. You should just shave it, anyway. It's all the rage now, you know, and the boys expect it. No one has to know that you didn't have much in the first place."

"But I've been wanting, trying so hard to grow..."

"Yes, I know, I know. Hey, I'll bet there's a razor in the bathroom. What do you say, huh? I'll help you."

"It's called a 'head' on a boat."

"Okay then, the head. Let's look in the head."

I stood up and took her hand, pulling her slowly and reluctantly into the standing position. We did find a razor and some cream in the cabinet. 

"Okay, let's do it!" I tried to be as enthusiastic as possible. "This will be fun. You'll love how it feels. And you'll look just like me...Hey, is this why you were so quick to have a look at me when I came on board?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. When Jake told me you shaved down there I just starting thinking about it, and my own hair, and it was driving me crazy. I thought I would just burst before I could see for myself."

"Hey, no problem." I gave her a hug. "Now, let's get started."

I watched her unzip her denim skirt. It fell to the floor and she stepped out of it, then looked with a horrified face toward the ladder leading to the cockpit.

"Don't worry. They're busy sailing. They won't come down here."

She put her thumbs in her plain, cotton panties and tugged them down, a whole lot slower than when she pulled my bikini down. What I saw took my breath away. Her mound was huge. Her pussy lips protruded from between her legs further than any I'd ever seen. Her slit looked like it was separating butt cheeks, not pussy lips.

"My god! You're gorgeous," I exclaimed.

Her hand went immediately to cover herself.

"No, please. I'm serious. I've never seen a more beautiful, a more perfect pussy.

"Really?"

"Really!"

"But the hair..."

"Never mind that. You're going to be rid of that in two seconds."

I guided her back to the couch where I positioned her so I could shave her. She was unwilling to spread her legs beyond a few inches at first, but I finally prevailed, inch by inch. She jumped slightly as the foam hit her, and we had a good chuckle about that. The few hairs she had came off easily and quickly. I wiped off the excess foam with a towel and surveyed my handiwork. Lynn bent over as far as she could to have a good look.

"Beautiful!" I proclaimed.

"Do you really think so?"

"Absolutely. Now let's go show the boys and get you some lunch."

"No, it still won't work. I'm not taking off my top; there's nothing you can do about my breasts...and I'm not throwing my new skirt overboard, no matter what Sam says."

"How 'bout if I convince them to let you eat with your top on? That would be okay, right?"

She sucked in her breath and paused, thinking it over.

"You talk to them. But you tell Jake that if he or Sam laughs at me I'll kill myself."

"They won't laugh. I guarantee it. They'll think you're beautiful, just like I do."

"The top stays on!"

"I'll talk to them."

I was already at the ladder when she added, "And nothing goes overboard!"

On deck I found the boys as happy as kittens sailing their boat. I went up to Sam and spoke softly so Lynn wouldn't overhear us.

"Sam, I managed to get Lynn's bottom off, but she's very shy about her breasts. Couldn't you let her keep her top on for a while? If you go slowly with her, I'm sure you'll get what you want in the end. Just take it a step at a time, okay?"

"Really? She's really bottomless?" A big grin appeared.

"Yes. And don't make her throw her clothes overboard. She probably spent a lot of money on the skirt." 

"Well, okay. But she has to bring me her skirt and panties and exchange them for half a sandwich. That's all: half a sandwich for half her clothes. That's the deal."

"And she eats from the chair, just like you did," Jake chimed in.

"I'll talk to her," I said and turned for the ladder.

"And only half a coke!" Sam added.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered under my breath as I reached the first step.

Lynn was standing just out of sight from the hatch, both her hands tightly cupped over her crotch. I went up to her and placed my hands on her shoulders. She looked expectantly into my eyes.

"Okay, it's all set. Sam agrees to everything."

"Really?"

"Yes. All we have to do is fold your skirt nicely (I let go of her to pick up her skirt and panties as I talked) like this, arrange your panties artfully on top, and then you can hand them to him nicely, you see? Take them."

She held out one hand without enthusiasm, keeping the other cupped tightly against her pussy.

"No, flat," I explained, "As if they were on a tray, with both hands."

"Why do I have to do this?" Lynn asked.

"It's for the exchange. The deal is your skirt and panties for half a sandwich." 

"What do you mean, half? I want a whole sandwich!"

"Well, now, you have to admit that it's a fair deal: half your clothes for half a sandwich. Come on, it's the best I could do. You want to eat something, don't you?"

"I want a whole, big lunch. I'm hungry and it's just not fair..."

"Now, now. Don't cry. I'll go back and talk to him again. I'll make him see reason, okay?"

I hustled back to the cockpit.

"Sam," I said, "she wants more food than what you're offering."

"If she's so hungry, why is she spending time arguing about it? Just tell her to get up here and show us what she's got."

"Please, Sam, give me something I can take her to make this happen."

"Oh, all right. Tell her she can have a bag of chips with her half sandwich if she takes off her t-shirt as well. That's the best I can do."

I turned and ran below without so much as a "by your leave."

"Okay, Lynn. I got you a bag of chips, too. Now that's plenty for a little girl, right? Come on, be a sport. It's time to get on board with this. You want them to like you, again, don't you?"

"I guess," she said in resignation.

"Good girl. Just one more thing. I had to promise him your t-shirt for the chips.

"What?"

"Hey, it's okay. It's just your t-shirt. You can keep your bra on. That's plenty of cover, right? More than most swimsuits – certainly mine, right?"

I reached for the bottom of her shirt and began to push it up, just testing for resistance; I knew I wouldn't be able to just yank it over her head. I uncovered one cup without a problem.

"Hey, now that's a great looking bra: very pretty and stylish. Come on, give me what you're holding and take off your shirt. It's time to eat, huh?"

Reluctantly she handed me her things, released her death grip on her crotch, and raised her t-shirt over her head and off. She studiously, deliberately folded it, placed it on her up-turned palm and nodded to me to add her skirt and panties to the pile. 

"Okay, let's go," she said.

"Great. Now when you get up there, try to be as casual as you can. That's the key. Don't try to cover yourself. Believe me, that just makes it worse. If anything, be a bit defiant: dare them with your eyes to look at you. That always helps me. Okay?"

She said nothing, but nodded her head. I could tell that a million thoughts were going through that head, a million emotions. I remembered the humiliation and exhilaration of my first unveiling. I wondered if she was as wet as I.

I went up the ladder first, wondering how she was going to handle the chair. I purposefully didn't mention it. I didn't know how to bring it up without risking a complete breakdown of negotiations. I just hoped for the best. I stood with the boys and the three of us watched the little girl emerge from the depths of the boat.

I was proud of her. She emerged confident, standing tall, without the slightest humility. She held her garments before her with both hands, as if they were a fragile treasure. When her bare bottom came into view the boys gasped reverently. The three of us were transfixed. She walked up to Sam directly, not turning her head to look at either Jake or me.

"These are for your safe-keeping. You have my lunch?"

Sam took her things and placed them in a nearby chest, the one with the basket in it. He opened the basket, pulled out a sandwich, unwrapped it, took the smaller half and put it on a plate. Along side he added a small bag of potato chips. He handed the plate to Lynn.

"Come sit in the place of honor," Jake said gently, taking her by the elbow and leading her to the captain's chair.

She suspected nothing untoward, trusting Jake was just being nice. He had her put the plate on the nearby ledge, then helped her into the high seat. As soon as she was seated she crossed her legs and locked her ankles together, and reached for her food. She took the sandwich in one hand and the bag of chips in the other. No one was going to take these precious items from her. A single, quick bite made half the sandwich disappear.

Reading Jake's mind (which is always easy to do, his being such a stickler for spread-apart knees), I went to her. I placed my hand on her knee and whispered in her ear.

"Darling, you mustn't cross your legs."

I gently drew her right leg from on top the left, and made it rest on the seat. Lynn's attention was more on the second bite of the sandwich, but I could tell she was aware enough of her surroundings to keep her knees together with determination. A portion of her huge mound was visible even with her thighs together, but I knew the boys would not be satisfied; I had to get her to spread her legs.

I stepped in front of her and forced my hands between her knees. "Old ladies keep their knees together," I said, "but pretty young girls never do; it just isn't proper."

She looked at me as if I were from another planet. Her eyes grew big, but her chewing continued unabated. She stuffed the last of her sandwich in her mouth and brought her now free hand to cover her crotch. I grabbed it and pinned it to the side. She brought the hand with the chips to her crotch, but I grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm away. The chips went flying. She swallowed.

"What are you doing?" she yelled.

"I'm teaching you some manners," I said.

"Manners?"

"There's a proper way to sit. Relax!" I ordered. 

"Let me go!"

"Don't move and I'll release you."

"You're hurting me."

"Do you promise to be good?"

"Give me my chips!"

"Promise?"

She didn't reply, but I felt her body go limp. I let go of one of her arms, then the other. They remained at her sides.

"Good girl," I said. "Now, I'm going to position your legs properly, then I'm going to get your chips for you. Once in position, you mustn't move. Understand?"




Liza's New Life Ch. 01



She nodded slightly and curled her lip in resignation. I gently moved her knees apart about twelve inches. I could feel the muscles in her thighs tensing, so I held her apart and stared her down until I felt her relax completely.

"Good girl," I said, then leaned in and whispered into her ear, "Show me that pride, that defiance you had coming up the steps. Focus. Make me proud."

I stepped slowly away from her. She didn't move. I stepped to the side and the boys were able to get a good look at her for the first time.

"Lynn, you're beautiful," Jake said softly, reverently. "I never imagined you could be so beautiful!"

"Wow!" Sam added.

I dangled the bag of chips in front of her, and her attention turned completely to them. She grabbed the bag and opened it, but nothing she did interfered with the boys' view of her pussy, so all was well. She began to stuff the salty treats into her mouth.

"Where's my coke?" she said with her mouth full.

Sam took a cup from the basket, opened a coke, poured half of it into the cup, and then set it on the ledge beside her. She stuffed another handful of chips in her mouth, chewed rapidly, then drank greedily. She didn't put the cup down until it was empty. The final chips were "drunk" from the upturned bag. 

"I need more coke," she said as she swallowed the last pieces.

"No, Lynn. A half coke was the deal," Sam answered.

"But I need something to drink. The chips are caught in my throat."

"You can have all you want to drink – in exchange for your bra."

"What?" 

"That's the deal."

Lynn looked at him in a way that would pulverize rock, but to my surprise and joy, she did not move. The view of her mound remained, and her hands tightly grasped the arms of the chair, as if to remind herself to keep the view unobstructed. 

"Jake, sweetheart," she suddenly decided to change tactics, "I'm really thirsty. You don't want me to suffer, do you? Look, I'm doing everything I've been told, sitting like a proper young girl should and everything. Please, Jake, let me have more coke."

Jake was unprepared for that. He looked at Sam with the same pleading eyes that Lynn was using on him.

"Oh, damn it all to hell," Sam said in disgust. "Look, if I give you the other half of this coke, do you promise to sit there, like that, for as long as we say?"

"I'll sit here for a half hour for a whole coke."

"An hour for the rest of the coke in this can." Sam countered.

"Another whole coke for an hour."

"Two hours for a whole coke." Sam shook his head to accentuate his words.

"All I want to drink for two hours, and the other half of the sandwich."

"Alright, I'll give you all you want to drink...and eat, but you have to stay in that chair posing for us however we say until we get to Catalina."

"How long till Catalina?"

"Couple of hours, more or less. Depends on the wind."

"Okay, bring the basket over here."

Jake hopped to and had the basket with all its delicacies within her reach in an instant. She guzzled from the opened can as Jake lifted her right leg and stretched it over the arm of the chair. Lynn offered no resistance. The effect was stunning. Her tiny slit was opened slightly and the cutest little button of a clitoris appeared. The boys and I just stood there awe struck at this little darling, eating like a pig. She took another big swig from the coke, then belched like a sailor.

"So, if we're going to get to Catalina, you guys better get busy. You can't just stand there staring at me and expect the boat to find Catalina by itself." Lynn cocked her head coquettishly.

"Oh, we're doing fine: the wind is perfect, the sails and rudder are set. Not much to do but enjoy the ride, and the view," Jake beamed.

"Hum..." She gave him a look and reached in the basket for another sandwich.

"Well, if everything is under control here, I'm going to use the bath...er...head," I said and turned toward the hatch leading below deck.

"I'll go with you. It's my turn," Sam said.

I thought I would be able to pee on my own now that the boys had another pussy to ogle, but apparently not. They became great aficionados of my urinary skills when I was in a position similar to Lynn's. I was serving my "knees apart" time on the counter of my kitchen when I could no longer hold it, and I had to make a deal to let them watch in return for the privilege of going to the bathroom. I wondered if that was in store for Lynn.

"What do you mean, it's your turn?" Lynn couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, it's alright," Jake replied. "It's easy to explain..."

When Sam saw that Jake was answering for him, he signaled to me to continue down the ladder. Jake's voice faded as soon as the dimness of below decks enveloped me. Sam was right on my heels as I entered the phone booth they called the head. He stood just outside with that expectant look on his face, and I remembered why I agreed to this. Despite all the painful knots in my stomach, the embarrassment and humiliation, I craved his attention, and the adoration of whomever my husband showed me to. The moisture I felt at his gaze was not pee. I was glad the spotlight was back on me; I missed being the center of attention. 

"You have to squeeze in here," I said to him. "I need to lean against you, remember?"

And so he did. I stood over the small toilet, straddling it. I placed one hand on his shoulder, and opened myself up with the other. We waited for the stream to begin. 

"You've been great with Lynn," Sam said, his watchful eye not moving from my pee hole.

"What are your plans for her next?" I said with a grunt as the stream began.

"Gotta figure out a way to get her top off. Got any ideas?"

"Oh, god! Put you finger against my pee hole, quick!"

He was startled and didn't react quickly, but it soon dawned on him I wanted help to stop the flow. His trembling finger bobbed awkwardly against me, but he finally managed to press his knuckle in the right spot.

"Yes!" I moaned. "That feels so good. Now move your finger and let it start again."

It was slow to start again, and as soon as it did, I had him replace his finger. By the fourth cycle of start and stop, the sensation of his finger against me and the novelty of this new game definitely took its toll. With the knuckle of his index finger pressed against my hole, I grabbed his thumb and jammed it against my clitoris. With my hand directing him, the circular motion brought me to a delicious orgasm and I yelled to high heaven. The spasms were terrific and his hand was jarred out of place. My bladder emptied and urine mixed with my juices. I collapsed against Sam, and he supported my weight.

That was the scene when Jake ran down to see why I was yelling: I was straddling the toilet, bent over, leaning on Sam, both our hands at my pussy. I was panting.

"What in the hell!" Jake made his presence known.

"Everything is fine. I just got a little excited," I reassured him.

Sam helped me straighten up and held me as I moved away from the toilet and out of the head. Jake stood by as a concerned spectator.

"Sam, I need to talk to you," he began when we were ready to listen. "Lynn says she has a secret to tell about Liza."

"Oh?" Sam said with a taunting, quizzical look in my direction.

"She wants to trade it for reduced chair time. What do you think we should do?"

I was mortified. My craving for something to stick up my butt had somewhat subsided during the hubbub, but now, thanks to Lynn's reminder, it was back. I had a feeling new humiliations were on their way.

"Reduced chair time?" Sam repeated the phrase as if it were something loathsome. The part about the secret seemed to escape him.

"Is she still sitting like she was?"

"Better," Jake said. "I've got both her legs over the chair arms. She's spread like an eagle. It's a beautiful sight to behold!"

"Okay, get back up there and make sure we don't run into anything. I need to talk to Liza. We'll be back on deck in a minute." 

"Well, Liza? Do you have anything you'd like to tell me?"

"No, she's bluffing," I lied and furtively reached behind myself to touch my rosebud. "But I'll tell you this secret: her negotiation is just a ruse for more attention. She is not only resigned to do her time in the chair, but totally committed to it. You've got her where you want her and that's the most important secret of all." I pressed, and my finger entered as far as the first knuckle.

"Hum," Sam looked me up and down, wondering if he should trust me, and what I was hiding.

"What's your secret?" Sam peered into my face.

I hesitated and that was my undoing. He knew I was hiding something. As soon as I realized this I became flustered and my finger popped out.

"Okay...but...it's really not a big deal. I'd rather not talk about it. Not yet, anyway. I'm still trying to sort it out in my own mind."

"Hum," he said again.

"Listen," I said, "You asked me if I had any ideas how to get her top off. Well, maybe we can use this secret thing to do it."

"How?" he asked.

"Well...I don't know, let's just think a minute. There must be a way," I said.

"How 'bout if I demand her top for being a tattle-tale."

"Hum, that might work," I said slowly, pensively, but mostly just thinking about a spatula up my butt. 

"Or make her bolt and ruin the whole thing, I suppose," he added.

"No, she won't put a stop to this. She's thinking in terms of 'How' to do it, not 'Whether' to do it. She's in too deep. Like Alice in Wonderland, she wants to see where this is going – I know I do. You see, that's her secret. She needs to show herself as much as you want to see her. You can make all sorts of demands on her, now. She wants you to make her show herself, but it's got to be in a way that makes sense to her, absolves her completely. If you give her a logical reason to take off her bra she'll jump at the chance. That's a secret Lynn and I both share, and the only one that should concern you."

"All right, let's see what happens."

I went up the ladder first, imagining the excellent view I was providing Sam, but my attention instantly shifted to the sight before me. Jake was not exaggerating: Lynn's display was breathtaking. With her legs dangling over the sides of the chair, her pussy stretched as much as it possibly could and her slit became a gaping oval. Her cute little button of a clit looked like a tiny, bald hobbit guarding the entrance to a cave. She was talking to Jake without the slightest trace of self-consciousness; her hands rested comfortably on her knees. She seemed at ease and animated at the same time.

Sam came behind me not with a grin, but with a thoughtful look on his face. He was trying to figure out how to proceed.

"Jake says you have a secret," he said to Lynn.

"Take an hour off my chair time and I'll tell you," she began the negotiations.

"I don't take kindly to tattle-tales," he snorted. "You'll stay in the chair forever for this."

"That's not fair!" Her voice was strong. "I don't care if this is your boat and your dad is my mom's boss. Jake wants to know the secret. He should have some say in this."

"Lynn," I broke in. "I can't believe you would betray me just to get out of a few measly minutes of sitting in a comfortable chair. You should be ashamed of yourself, and Sam is right, and within his rights, to make you stay in that chair as long as he wants, just as he does with me. I thought we were friends. I trusted you."

Lynn looked scared, guilty, and remorseful all at the same time.

"And now you've tried to drive a wedge between Jake and Sam," I continued. "You deserve whatever Sam gives you! It's about time somebody around her besides me paid some penalties, anyway. My, god! Just look at the trouble you're causing."

"Now, just a minute." Jake came to her defense. "It seems to me that it's the secret that's causing all the trouble around here, and I think she should tell us what it is."

"If you want to hear the secret," Sam said, "She can be my guest to slake your curiosity, but she better be taking off her bra while she's doing it."

"Okay, I agree, but just hear me out, Sam." Jake went over to Lynn and put his arm around her shoulders before he began again softly. "I think we all need to hear the secret just because there should be no secrets among us. Liza speaks of paying penalties, and I agree that several have piled up, but the first must go to Liza herself for having a secret in the first place."

"But Lynn has more," I said peevishly, getting into the spirit of things.

"What do you mean?" Lynn's voice cracked with confusion. "What penal..."

"Lynn, you have to understand about penalties and debts," Jake continued. "For instance, what Liza has done, keeping a secret from us, is bad, very bad, right? You agree she's earned a penalty and is in our debt, right?" 

"Yeah, I guess. If you say so."

"Yes, but you have to say so, too, Lynn. Does Liza get a penalty?"

She looked at me with a beseeching look and meekly said, "Yes."

"That's right," Jake continued. "You see, you understand the need for a method of righting the wrongs in a group like this. Now, with that penalty, Liza is in our debt. We trust her to pay it, and that's what makes our friendship strong, our group strong. We need to be able to trust you, too. Can we trust you as much as we trust Liza? Can you keep your promises as well as Liza? Can you be a real part of things?"

"She's got a lot to learn before that can happen!" It dawned on me where Jake was going with this, and I wanted to stoke the fire. "She knows nothing of paying debts or keeping promises."

"I always keep my promises!"

"Do you promise to pay your debts?" Jake asked.

Lynn hesitated momentarily, then nodded her head. Her lip quivered.

"And you're sorry about the dissention you've caused, and you understand Sam has to apply a penalty for that, right?" Jake coddled her.

She nodded again and a tear appeared on her cheek.

"And when it comes time for you to pay that debt, you will, just as Liza has promised to pay hers, right?"

"Yes," she said in a weak voice.

"Good girl. Now that brings us back to the very cause of all this, the issue of the secret and whether or not you should betray Liza. This is the crux of the whole matter. The secret needs to be told for the well being of the entire group. We shouldn't have secrets from one another. Now, Lynn, Sam is right to demand your top if you tell the secret. I won't argue with him on that point. The penalty is a fair one for the act of betrayal. What I want you to understand, Lynn, is that for the good of the group you absolutely must tell the secret, no matter what. That is your duty to us, and if you must pay the penalty in order to do it, it must be done. Once the secret is told, everything will be settled and we can move forward. You're the only one who can settle everything and restore harmony. You want us all to remain friends, right? Right, Lynn?"

"Yes, of course. More than anything," she sniffled.

"The only way we can do that is by your taking off your top. Take your bra off and be done with it. Then we can get this secret behind us and move forward. It's the only way. Otherwise nothing will ever be settled."

"Jake, I just can't. It's too humiliating."

"Lynn, you are beautiful. We can all see that. Take off your bra. It's the only way. The four of us need this to happen for the good of the group. You can see that, right? It's so we can all get along and be friends, see?"

"You're not going to like what you see."

"I'll bet I do."

Lynn hung her head and slowly reached behind her back to undo the clasp of her bra. Tears rolled down her face as she pulled the cups away from her tiny breasts and slid the straps down her arms. The modest cover fell to the foot of the chair. Lynn sobbed lightly. 

Her breasts were like those of an adolescent just experiencing the first blossom of puberty. In their innocence they were perfect. With geometric precision, little cones rose from her chest. Her nipples were fully grown, jutting with anticipation. 

I couldn't stop myself. I rushed to her, brushed Jake aside, and gave her a big hug. 

"You are the most perfect, the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen," I cried. I kissed her cheeks where the tears were falling, wiping them away with my lips. "Don't you ever put on clothes again, you hear me? Huh? Never. You are gorgeous!" 

Lynn raised her head to me and smiled, and then began to cry like a baby. These were different tears she shed, however. I understood these tears. They weren't tears of humiliation anymore, but tears of joy, of liberation. The years she spent in hiding and self-doubt were finally over. She revealed herself, and in the reflection of our adoring stares she saw that she was beautiful. She was naked and proud.

"Welcome to my life," I said to her.



Liza's New Life Ch. 02



"Well, Lynn," Sam said, "Now that you've paid the penalty, it's time to commit the crime. Tell us Liza's secret."

Lynn looked at me and then at Jake. Her small chest heaved. Her nipples pointed to the sky, and then back to the horizon. I just couldn't get over the sight of this young girl seated naked with legs spread over the chair arms. Her blue eyes, still moist from crying, seemed to blend with the sea behind her. Her pussy, still moist from the humiliation of disrobing, puckered in the new found delight of her own naked beauty. 

"Jake," Lynn began softly. "I know you think I should tell, and I've done everything you've asked. I'm sitting here naked for you, after all, but now I just can't do it. I can't tell on Liza. It was wrong of me to even think about it. Please don't make me do it. I'll do anything else you say. I promise."

I held my breath; my mind raced. It was déjà vu: the boys had arranged things to the point that Lynn was now willing to agree to anything. I saw myself in that naked, spread-for-their-viewing girl, and I realized several things: Lynn was about to be put in the same naked boat as I, I had helped put her there, and we were both going to pay dearly. I needed to act and act quickly to divert the boys.

"It's okay, Lynn," I said. "I'll tell the boys everything." 

"Just a minute," Jake interrupted. "Lynn, do you really care enough for Liza to do anything? Is that what you just said?"

It was no use. They had latched onto the word, "anything," and would milk it for all it was worth. I continued to hold my breath.

Lynn looked at me, searching for guidance. I tried to shake my head, warn her, indicate in some way that she was on the road to perdition, but I couldn't make my head move. I'd turned to stone - naked, scented stone; I smelt my own arousal.

"I can't betray Liza," Lynn replied in a steady voice. "She's been good to me and for her I'll do anything you say. I owe her that."

"Will you wear an anklet like hers?" Sam asked. "Will you make the same promises that Liza has made?"

"Oh, yes," Lynn said without hesitation and with enthusiasm. "We would be like sisters!"

The breath I'd been holding left me in a rush. I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. 

"Liza," Jake said to me in an officious tone, "Embrace your sister."

I rolled my eyes, but said nothing as I stepped toward her chair. Jake took Lynn's hand and helped her stand up. She opened her arms wide and I pressed against her. Even on tiptoe, her head only came up to my chest. She nuzzled her face between my breasts as I held her tightly. Her firm, small breasts poked my stomach. She wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed with all her might. I felt my pussy grind into her abdomen, and I felt hers on my leg. Both were leaking. 

As I held her I realized that I no longer wished to spare her my fate, but was content that she shared it. She embraced her indenture as she embraced me. I welcomed her to my life openly, sincerely.

"Okay, that's enough, you two," Sam broke it up.

We slowly released each other and Lynn returned to her chair. She sat down, smiled broadly and displayed herself with pride.

"All right, now." Jake looked at me. "You were about to tell us something, Liza."

I dropped my head and spoke quietly. "This morning Ms Thomas called me to her apartment." I paused.

"Yes," Sam prodded.

Jake and Lynn became attentive.

"Well, as I told you, she intended to give me that spanking with the hairbrush, you know, for being on the balcony with you guys in just a towel and then going without panties to a bar. So, there I was, over her lap, my naked ass at the ready, when instead of spanking me, she starts pulling out the hairs around my, you know, the hole. God! It was erotic. I never felt anything like it. Well, once she had me all hot and bothered, she got a phone call and told me to come back tomorrow. I couldn't stand it. Feelings were awakened I didn't even know existed. Ally was with me. Have you met Ally? Anyway, we ran home and I buttered the handle of a spatula and made her shove it up...there. Let me tell you, I had one hell of an orgasm. By the way, I still had that spatula in me when you found me this morning. I was under the covers, thank god, or you would have found out my dirty little secret a lot sooner."

"So, that's the big secret?" Jake asked. "You had a spatula up your ass?"

"Well, it's not that simple. The big secret, you see, is that I liked having that spatula up my ass. I was afraid that if anybody found out, before I had a chance to sort out my feelings about it – remember, this only happened this morning - things might happen before I was ready."

"So Marc doesn't even know about this, huh?" Sam asked.

"No. Please, I'm sooo not ready for him to find out. Please don't tell him."

"Hum," Sam began slowly. "That's an interesting story, and I congratulate you on your openness and honesty, but certain problems remain. First, a penalty must be imposed for your initial secretiveness. Now a second penalty must be imposed for asking that we keep this from Marc. Will you never learn?"

"Oh god! I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." I blubbered incoherently.

"Alright, here's what we're going to do," Sam said as I held my breath. "First, I want you to bend over and show us this eager hole you've been talking about. Bend over and spread your buttocks so we can all see. Do it in front of the chair so Lynn can have a good look, too."

God! I was humiliated. The thought that I would display myself in that manner to these three...eighteen-year-old...children...made me crazy, but I got myself into position in front of Lynn's gaping pussy. I felt the knot in my stomach tighten as I bent over, and I felt the tug at my anus at I parted my buttocks. I really didn't like this inspection, but I knew I needed it.

"Well, what do you think, Jake?" I heard Sam ask. "Do you think that looks like a hole that should be filled?"

That they would talk about my asshole like that was more humiliating than I thought I could ever bear, but I just pulled at my anus even harder in response.

"It's rather small," he remarked. "What do you think, Lynn? Is it too small to have pleasure?"

"It's not the size, that matters," Lynn made a joke that made them all laugh. "She wanted my finger up there. Maybe she still does."

"Wow! Now we're really getting down to the nitty-gritty," Sam said. "You didn't include that little tid-bit in your story," he said to me. "Do you want Lynn's finger up you butt?"

"Oh, god yes," I heard myself blurt out.

I watched from between my legs as Lynn sucked her middle finger to lubricate it. It was a sensuous, teasing sucking that had the boys hollering. I watched as she aimed it at my hole, approaching slowly, as if it were the docking of the shuttle with the space station. I was out of my mind with desire. The docking made me jerk initially, but I pressed against the tip of her finger as it settled in. I felt it go past my sphincter and beyond, where no man had gone before. When the entire length of her finger was imbedded in me, she began to wiggle it. The sensation was out of this world! Suddenly she pulled out all but the tip, and I panicked that it was over, but then I felt another finger, her ring finger, work its way inside me. Together the two fingers impaled me to their full length. She began to pump, and my juices began to flow. She was working it for all she was worth: screwing my ass like a pro. I couldn't believe it, but that she spent a lifetime with her brother's privates in hand should have prepared me for her expertise. I was grateful for her training and knew my orgasm was near. My cries filled the boat. My scent floated over the waves. My juices poured from my pussy. Sam and Jake both grabbed a hold of me so that the spasms wouldn't knock me over. I felt like I was going to pass out. 

Sam and Jake lowered me to the deck as Lynn's fingers left their nest. I lay there panting, catching my breath and waiting for my legs to turn from rubber back to muscle.

"Okay," Sam joked. "We're convinced that you like it up the ass."

I could only grunt acknowledgement of his conviction, and then, I don't know why, it just popped into my head to say, "I keep violating the crap out of Marc's 'no touching' rule."

"Oh, my." He responded. "The penalties do just keep piling up, don't they?"

"Oh, shit," I muttered.

"Jake, have you been keeping track? What's the current tally with Liza and Lynn?"

I rolled over on my back to see better what was going on. I lay my hand on my pussy and felt the wetness. I bathed my fingers in it while the kangaroos prepared to hold court.

"Well," he said, "let's see. As far as it goes with Lynn, she's pretty much paid her penalties as we've gone. She lost lunch privileges because of the 'bikini indiscretion,' but she got them back by agreeing to go bottomless and sit in the chair. Now, the chair time was made indefinite because of her telling us Liza had a secret, and she's serving that admirably (he took a long look at Lynn's gaping pussy), but we still haven't dealt with the dissention that she caused in the group."

"Okay," Sam interrupted. "That leaves just one penalty for Lynn, right?"

"Right," Jake agreed.

"Wait a minute, you must be leaving something out!" I just couldn't keep my mouth shut.

"No, I think Jake's pretty much covered it, but your anxiousness to heap debt on Lynn is noted."

"Oh, god," I moaned.

"So, how about Liza?" Sam asked Jake. "What's her final tally through all of this?"

"Oh, god," I moaned even louder.

"Well, in addition to this latest outburst, which surely earns her one, I count several."

"Oh, shit," I just couldn't bite my tongue.

"Lynn, be a doll and go sit on Liza's face to shut her up. Will you, please?" Sam said.

Lynn glanced at Jake with a puzzled look. She couldn't figure out the sense of such a thing, and she didn't know what to do. Neither could she understand that she was, for a while, being allowed to leave the chair.

"Yes," Jake answered her look. "You can get up to go do this for Sam. Sit on her good; keep her quiet for a while so we can think straight."

Lynn slowly removed one leg from over the chair arm, and then the other. Her behavior was tentative, as if she expected a penalty for each movement. She stood and gently rubbed the back of her knees, which had been pressed against the chair arms. She stretched her back. She looked again at Jake.

Jake held out his hand to her and helped her step over me, straddling my shoulders. I gazed up into her pussy, that huge, delicious mound. I can't tell you everything I felt as I watched that beautiful pussy descend. Suffice it to say that at that moment I believed the moon itself was coming to me. Her rosebud was first to touch down on my forehead, then the celestial body rocked forward until its pussy smothered my lips. My nose was bent to one side and breathing was difficult, but I knew she was somehow supporting most of her weight so she wasn't crushing me.

"Okay, now maybe we can finish this without further interruptions," Sam gloated.

"Yes, well, let's see..." Jake tried to regain his train of thought. "There's the secret, of course; that's a huge penalty. She really owes us for that one. Secondly, and I'm sure you agree, Sam, I give Liza a penalty for her just downright meanness toward Lynn. I think that through this whole ordeal she was just a little too willing to assign blame, don't you?"

"Yes, you're absolutely right. So, that's two so far."

I was incensed at the injustice of that, and shouted through Lynn's muffling pussy that I had only pretended to be that way to give them cause to remove her bra. My explanation was an inaudible moan, to no avail. The movement of my lips under her weight did bring some joy, though: her wetness seeped onto my tongue and I tasted her for the first time.

"The third is from her own admission: she has not been paying due respect to Marc's boundaries. The thing is, I'm not sure whether that is a debt to us or a debt to Marc. To whom is the penalty due?"

"A penalty should be levied and paid to those who discover the indiscretion. Whether it is owed Marc or us is immaterial. She will pay it to us."

"Agreed," Jake said in a judicial tone. "That brings the total to four with the disturbance she has just caused."

"Okay, then. The final tally is Lynn one, Liza four."

"That's the way I see it," Jake agreed.

"Okay, Lynn. You can get up, now," Sam said.

She lifted from me like the dew evaporates from a rosebud: the scent was sweet and enduring. I took a long, deep breath. I watched as she went back to the chair without any prompting. She settled in, putting first her left leg over one arm of the chair, and then her right leg over the other. She put her hands behind her head and extended her chest with its two tiny cylindrical cones as far as it would go. She was loving this! The boys watched in awe, and so did I.

"Are you ready to behave, Liza?" Sam finally found his tongue.

"Yes," is all I muttered as I licked my lips, tasting more of Lynn's sweetness.

"Well, I must say. Four penalties in such a short time is a record, even for you. Do you have anything to say?"

I was calm enough now to remember from recent and past experience that any defense just made things worse, so I simply uttered a weak, "No."

"Okay, well, as it is our policy to make the punishment fit the crime when possible, I have the perfect penalty for your first wrongdoing. For keeping hidden your secret, anal love, I sentence you to being impaled by the kitchen appliance of your choice for the remainder of the voyage."

"Hear ye, hear ye," Jake shouted in a mocking, jocular tone.

"Liza, go to the galley and bring back what you intend to use. You have two minutes only to find something that fits. Go!"

I jumped up as if I'd been stung and ran down the ladder to the galley. My eyes where still adjusting to the dim light as I opened cabinets and drawers in a frantic search for just the right thing. My hands shook and my pussy ran, thinking of my assigned task. I examined every handle to every pot and pan. I looked at bottle openers and wine openers. With precious few seconds remaining, I happened upon a whisk. The handle was aluminum, but the spokes were of titanium. At the base of the handle was a lip between the handle itself and the point where the spokes fit into the handle. I nearly shouted "Eureka" when I realized that after the handle was buried in my bowels, my sphincter would close around the narrower joining of the spokes, and it would remain in place. I ran back topside and presented my treasure to Sam.

"Very good," he brought out thoughtfully. He held it up so everybody could see.

"Um, I'll need to put something on it, to make it slide..."

"Well, go get it, then. Tempus fugit, tempus fugit."

I went as quickly as I could to the bow, watching every step to keep from falling overboard. The sun block lay on the towel where Lynn had left it. I hurried back to Sam, panting.

"Are you finally ready? Do you have everything you need?"

I nodded.

"Do you want me to help you, Liza?" Jake volunteered.

"Please," I replied with a grateful smile.

"All right, get back in position as before, in front of Lynn." Sam pointed to the spot. 

For the second time I bent over to present my anus to Lynn. I reached behind me and spread my butt cheeks as before. I watched Sam grease the whisk and hand it to Jake. I waited. I trembled.

Sam dabbed a dollop of lotion on my ass, and then Jake placed the tip of the handle against my rosebud. 

"Are you ready, Liza?" he asked.

"No. Sam, I need to lean against you. I nearly fell the first time."

Sam moved in front of me and held me in position.

"Okay. Ready, now?" Jake asked again.

"God, yes," I replied.

My anal sphincter opened at the pressure of the handle. Jake pushed slowly, making sure that the launch would fare well in unchartered waters. I felt the first inch go in, and then the second. 

"Okay, Liza?" Jake checked.

I nodded my head rapidly, biting on my lip in anticipation of the remaining length. Jake continued to push.

The world seemed to be slowing on its axis as I felt another inch slip inside me, then another. I was more full than I ever imagined. This morning's spatula was dwarfed by the whisk, and I was beginning to understand that something could only go into the butt so far. The whisk's handle became more and more thick as it progressed to the base, something my eyes hadn't discerned, but my anus could feel. I was stretched to the point where it was beginning to not be fun anymore, neither by width nor length. Jake continued to press and the pleasure mixed with pain. I was about to cry out when I felt my sphincter close around the lip of the base. My skin pressed between the spokes and it felt like my sphincter was indented to form a sprocket on which turning the whisk could turn my whole body. My breathing was labored.

"Are you alright?" Jake asked. "Does it hurt?"

"No, not at all," I lied.

"Can you straighten up?" Sam asked.

I released my butt cheeks and felt them hug the cold metal spokes of the whisk. I grabbed a hold of Sam at the waist and held on tight as I slowly tried to stand straight. Surprisingly, the straighter I stood, the less the pressure seemed at the depth of my bowel. The sharp pain was replaced by a dull ache. It was a sensation I could live with, for a while. I smiled at Sam triumphantly and stood tall.

"You look like you've got a bunny tail," Lynn laughed.

I looked over my shoulder, but couldn't see anything.

"Really? Is it really stupid looking?" 

"No, not at all," Jake said. "It's cute – cute as a bunny!"

I reached around to feel it. As I touched it, the whisk shifted and entered a more comfortable position. I began to push it gently to experiment.

"Hey, are you having fun?" Sam joked.

"Just trying to get comfortable, is all." I smiled wryly.

"Can you walk?" Jake asked.

I supported myself on Sam's shoulder and took a short step. Except for the incredible fullness and a slight burning at my sphincter, I felt nothing untoward. I released Sam and took another few steps. My gait was awkward, but I seemed able to get around the cockpit all right. As long as I was careful, my load didn't shift very much. I was actually beginning to think that it was a pretty good fit after all. 

"All right!" Jake praised my efforts. "Now all we have to do is figure out how Lynn is going to pay her debt, then we can turn our attention fully to finding Catalina, somewhere out here in the Pacific Ocean." 

"I know the perfect way for her to atone for the dissention she caused," I said, panting lightly. I reached around and pushed my tail to the left, still looking for the best position

"Oh?" Sam asked with a mixture of annoyance at the usurpation of his assumed role and incredulity that a person with a whisk up her butt could have anything intelligent to say.

"Sam, go stand beside Lynn's chair. Jake, I want you on the other side. Come on guys, let's go."

Jake was quick to do as I asked, but Sam dragged his feet.

"How is this going...?" Sam complained.

"Just humor me, okay? If you don't think this is the perfect solution, you can think of something else, right?"

He curled his lip and stood in his spot. I shuffled over to the chair and arranged Sam and Jake just the way I wanted them, telling them to stand very still. The three of them formed a perfect picture: two handsome mariners standing tall beside the seated nude.

"Okay, now here's the deal," I began. "Since Lynn tried to be a wedge to drive you boys apart, she must now be the glue to hold you together. Lynn, I want you to put your left hand down Jake's pants, and your right down Sam's."

I watched the expressions on their faces. Surprise, excitement, wonder, disbelief, joy, and confusion were just a few of the things I saw flash from face to face. No one said a word.




Liza's New Life Ch. 02



"Go on, Lynn. It's not as if you don't know how."

She slowly reached for Jake's waistband and slid her hand to grasp him. It was tentative, though, not with the self-assured smugness of before. She looked carefully into Jake's eyes. 

"Now the same with Sam," I prodded.

She turned to look at Sam. This was the part she was unsure of. While she studied his face, he stared intently at her hand. I saw Sam's eyes grow bigger and bigger as she raised that right hand and guided it toward his waistband. Ever so slowly, as if asking permission for each centimeter, her fingers disappeared down the front of his shorts. Sam winced slightly to signal that the fingers had landed. 

"Good," I praised them. "Now, the three of you will stay connected like that for as long as I have a tail."

"But they can't sail the boat with me holding on!" Lynn was the first to speak.

"Yeah, how can this work?" Jake echoed the objection.

"No, we can do it," Sam said.

I knew Sam would like this idea. Now it was up to him to carry it out. He began to give instructions to each of them as to how to move, where to stand, how to maneuver. It was like watching a "Three Stooges" movie for the first few minutes, but after a while things began to move well enough to perform the basic tasks of sailing the boat. After a half hour, it was like watching a single, five-foot-wide individual with three heads, six legs and four arms. 

The rhythm of their movements had to be interrupted only once when it became obvious that Sam would not be able to withhold his enthusiasm for my plan any longer. Lynn maneuvered them all to the stern of the boat, had both boys drop their shorts, and deftly pointed their erections toward the water. I watched from behind as their buttocks clinched and shook in orgasm. 

The beautiful Catalina Island appeared at the bow of the boat, but what I saw at its stern was a sight to behold!



Liza's New Life Ch. 03



The three-headed creature actually got us to the harbor at Avalon and lowered the anchor. 

"We made it!" Sam announced. "It's time to put an end to the penalties and get ready to go ashore."

Lynn extracted her hands from inside the guys' shorts and they reverted to three distinct individuals, roaming the cockpit at random, chaotically.

"Bend over, Liza." Sam told me. "It's time the bunny lost its tail."

I reluctantly bent over and braced myself against the railing on the bulkhead. I spread my feet. I didn't want to lose my tail, but the habit of following instructions was becoming as strong as keeping my promises.

"Slow or fast?" Sam asked, as if he were removing a band-aid, not extracting a whisk from the depths of my bowels.

"Slow and easy," I cautioned.

The lip of the handle stung my sphincter as Sam gently tugged, and my anus was slow to release its catch, but eventually the fullness I had enjoyed for about an hour began to diminish. As Sam continued to draw the whisk from my ass, I began to feel a familiar emptiness, hateful and lonely. Before he could extract the final two inches, I slammed my feet together, clinched my butt, and reached back with one hand to arrest his progress.

"No, don't!" I shouted as I grabbed the whisk firmly in my own hand. Holding it inside me, I stood up and turned to face him. "I...I'm not ready to take it out. Not yet."

"What?" The look on his face was one of incredible disbelief. The three of them stared at me, waiting for an explanation.

"Please, don't ask," I begged. "Just let me keep it a while longer. Just a little while longer, okay?"

"You really want it?" Lynn's eyes bulged. "But it was just for a penalty, and it's over now."

I didn't answer. I didn't know how to explain the emptiness and how awful it was. They had never experienced the fullness, so how could they understand the emptiness?

"Liza," Jake began. "We're all going into town. You can't come this far and not see Avalon. Come on. It's really neat and you'll like the cute little shops."

"No, I'll wait for you here, and besides, I don't have anything to wear, remember?" I looked down at my naked torso for emphasis.

"That's a good point," Jake agreed. "Sam, what's she going to wear?"

Instead of answering, Sam unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. His pectorals and well-defined stomach muscles reminded me that he was an athlete. 

"You can wear this," he said. "People will just assume you have a bathing suit on underneath." He held it out for me to insert an arm.

I put my free arm through the sleeve and he drew it around my back. I pushed the whisk into myself fully, as it was before, and I clinched my buttocks tightly. I released my grip and put that arm into the second sleeve. The tapered shirt hung on me loosely; the seams of the shoulders came nearly down to my elbows. The shirttails ended midthigh, but the sides of my legs were bared to just below my crotch. In the back, a tent was formed as it hung over the embedded whisk. 

"You can keep it in until the water taxi gets here," Sam said with a shrug and went below to call make the call.

"How about me?" Lynn asked Jake. "Can I get dressed now, too?" She picked up her bra from where it had settled against the bulkhead and held it, gently twirling it, with a quizzical look on her face.

"Yeah, but not that." Jake replied. He took it from her. She didn't object. "Just your t-shirt and skirt. The bra and panties stay aboard."

She smiled coquettishly, and then went to the chest and drew them out. She pulled the t-shirt over her head, down over her tiny breasts, and tugged at it to its full length to above her navel. Her nipples, defined nicely by the fabric, were fully erect. She stepped into her skirt and pulled it up to her waist. I have to admit that I immediately felt the loss of that magnificent pussy. I ached all over at the thought that I could no longer see it. I wanted her to sit back down in the chair with her legs over the arms, so I could see her once more. God! What had I become? I was looking at her through the eyes of an adolescent boy. I pushed at the whisk to feel it move within me, and touched my clitoris through Sam's shirt. I closed my eyes to better visualize Lynn's pussy."The shore boat will be here in just a minute," Sam said as he came through the hatch from below. "We've got to take it out now, Liza."

I opened my eyes to find him standing in front of me, expectantly. I knew that the jig was up, and that I would have to comply this time. I obediently resumed the bending position in front of him, offering my tail. I spread my legs, relaxed my buttocks, and waited in resignation. 

Sam didn't waste any time. He flipped up his shirt from over the whisk and pulled it from me in one, swift motion. My anus gapped and I gasped. My knees turned to rubber and I crumpled to the deck. My head spun and I grasped frantically at Sam's ankles to keep from falling off the earth. 

"Are you okay?" He hovered over me.

"Just...let me...rest a minute," I managed to get out.

"Did I hurt you?" Sam's voice was agitated. "Can I do anything?"

"Put it back...in."

"What? No way!"

I felt Sam's body move, and then I heard a splash. My bunny tail was headed for the ocean's bottom, never to fill me again. I cried. I sobbed. I closed my eyes even more tightly to try to hide from the emptiness. The three of them gathered around me; their voices mingled in meaningless gibberish. I reached behind me and pressed my hand against my still wide-open anus. I wanted the emptiness to go away. I felt I was going to die if I didn't get something up my ass.

"I need it. I need it," I repeated over and over as I sobbed.

A large hand with calluses grasped mine and moved it away from my hole.

"No," I cried. "Let me..."

Small feminine fingers touched my rosebud and two of them slid through the opening. My sphincter closed around them and held on tightly, as a drowning swimmer would a life preserver. I felt the warmth of Lynn's body as she put her other arm around me and pressed her hand at my pubis. The effect brought calm to the troubled seas. I breathed normally and stopped crying. When Jake released my hand, I placed it over Lynn's at my hole, making sure she wouldn't escape. In the distance the roar of an outboard motor grew louder. It was the shore boat.

"What are we going to do?" Jake's voice became discernible as my head found its mooring and the fog in my brain cleared. 

"Liza, the taxi is almost here," Sam's voice was urgent. "Can you stand up, yet? You've got to try."

I nodded, clutched Lynn's hand as tightly as I could, and rolled onto my knees. Sam and Jake supported me and helped me stand as Lynn's fingers pushed me from deep within. Once upright, Lynn continued to hold me and support me. Sam lifted the hem of the shirt to my face and wiped it; he dried my tears. Jake greeted the taxi driver at the side of the boat and helped him pull up along side as Sam put my shirt back down and buttoned a couple more of its buttons: the ones from the middle of my breasts to just below my navel were now fastened.

"You've got to let Lynn remove her fingers, now. Understand?"

I shook my head and held onto her with both my hands, pressing her even more firmly into me.

"Oh, shit!" Sam exclaimed. "You've got to! Listen," he decided suddenly to try a different tack, "If you behave I'll remove one of your remaining penalties, okay? You've got to let Lynn out of your ass and you have got to get in the taxi!"

"Let us stay here, please Sam," I begged. 

"No, I want you to come with us. If you don't make a scene, I'll remove all the remaining penalties and find something to stick up your ass in town, okay?"

"Promise?"

"Yes, for god's sake, yes."

I continued to hold her hand, but slowly drew her fingers out of me. I held onto her hand for dear life, as if it were my one link to a full rectum. I wouldn't let go. The boat was ready and waiting for us. 

Sam ran below to get my shoes and purse as Jake wrenched Lynn's hand from mine and helped her into the motorboat. The taxi driver helped her from below, and got a long and appreciative look up her skirt, but Lynn pretended not to notice his attention. She winked at me to let me know she enjoyed getting into the boat, and to encourage me to do the same. I smiled back, trying desperately to think of something besides my empty asshole, and admiring how quickly she had caught on to the game.

I was next to climb over the side into the taxi, and sure enough, the young mariner was more than happy to help. He supported me at the hips, letting his hands raise my shirttails to my waist as he lowered me. His eyes lingered on my shaved pussy as I took my time getting a footing in the motorboat. 

The effect of having the young man's eyes on my pussy was a familiar one. It reminded me of the first time Marc stripped me for Sam and Jake. The moistness in my groin and the blush in my cheeks brought me back to basics: the humiliation of displaying myself is what Marc and the others wanted of me, and what I must endure to earn their adoration. It dawned on me that if I weren't careful, this obsession with my asshole could interfere with keeping the anklet's promises, perhaps even cause problems between Marc and me.

Lynn and I sat on the bench at the bow of the motorboat, facing the stern. Sam and Jake climbed aboard and sat facing us from the center bench; the driver steered from behind them at the engine. Jake made sure that Lynn and I kept our knees apart, giving all the guys a constant view. Though I'd just been naked for them for several hours, I still couldn't help but tingle all over as I watched their eyes on us, moving from pussy to pussy. Lynn put her arm around me and cuddled me.

"You're right. Sitting like a proper young lady is an absolute must," she whispered in my ear and giggled softly. 

I smiled broadly and reflexively moved my knees even further apart. 'Yes, this is the way it should be,' I thought to myself. 'Anything else just gets in the way.'

The taxi deposited us at the green pier, our identification was checked, I put on my shoes, and we headed for the shops. Sam needed to go directly to an antique shop on an errand for his dad, but Jake wanted to go where he thought he could find an anklet like mine for Lynn. Because time was limited, the boys decided we should split up and arranged to meet at a popular sidewalk café after our mutual errands. Sam and I continued along the beach, while Lynn and Jake, hand in hand, went straight inland.

"Sam," I broke the silence we had observed since we pared off, "May I ask you a favor?"

"Sure," he replied in a friendly tone.

"Good, but before I do, I just want you to know that I know you tell Marc everything I do."

"Yeah, that's no secret."

"Well, I know that Marc likes to hear about my being naked and likes to fantasize about it, and that's why he arranges for me to spend time with you when he has to work, and why I do all these...things, but there is one thing that has me a little concerned."

"Yeah?"

"Well, it's the...you know...the tail...thing."

"You mean the Bunny-Tail thing?" he teased.

"Yes," I sighed. "Well...I'm not sure how Marc will take it. You know, my nakedness is what he's all about. We both know that. Jeez, I've finally gotten it through my head that he really, really likes it when I'm naked for his friends, and that's what he wants, and I'm trying my best, as I promised, and it's going pretty well, right?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed with a smile.

"Yes, and I've never seen him happier. I'm going to great lengths to keep him happy, but this latest...development...could have an unexpected effect. I can tell you, he's never shown the slightest interest in that portion of my anatomy. I might even go so far as to say he might be rather...disgusted...if you were to tell him..."

"So, we're back on that, then. You want me to keep a secret from Marc?"

"Just listen, okay?" My tone was half begging, half admonishing. I took his hand and pulled him to a nearby bench that faced the beach, looking out over a few sunbathers toward the ocean. As we settled on it, he held up the back of my shirt so that my bare buttocks came to rest on the sun-drenched wood. The heat stung me; I took a quick breath. Once seated, the front flaps of the tapered shirt rested on my thighs and my bared pussy was on view to anyone who might look. I realized that sitting down for a serious conversation wasn't a good idea after all, but I was determined to go through with it whatever the cost. He gently pulled on my knee closest to him to make sure my crotch was sufficiently open.

"I know you enjoy...well, this," I began again and looked down at my spread-apart knees, "and what we've been doing the last few days, and I have to admit...well...though it's..." I stammered, suddenly unable to gather my thoughts coherently.

"Go ahead, I'm listening," Sam prodded, his lips becoming a mischievous smile.

"Well, you know," I continued, trying to gather my wits, "what we do is...well, anyway...we both...well, all of us, now, I guess..."

"Are you trying to say you're enjoying yourself?" Sam helped me along.

I swallowed hard, not yet ready to make a bold admission. The idea that I was doing this for Marc gave me a certain aura of altruism, nobility.

"What I'm trying to say is that I think it all could come to an ugly end if certain things aren't handled correctly. You want us to keep spending time together, right?" 

"Do you?"

I hung my head, unable to answer.

"Do you?" he repeated more forcefully.

"Yes," I whispered, silently cursing the way this eighteen-year-old handles me.

"And you're afraid Marc won't let you come out to play anymore if he knows you've learned to shove things up your butt?"

"I...I'm not sure." I let my annoyance at the way he phrased it show in my voice.

"So, what's the favor, exactly?"

He reached over and slowly, seductively undid the button at my breasts, pulling the material away from the right one so he could see my nipple. I scanned the beach quickly, but the only person who might have noticed was too far away to be of any consequence.

"Yes, well," I became momentarily distracted, "the favor, then, is that you let me be the one to tell Marc about this – in a proper way, when he's ready."

A couple in their early thirties walked by in front of us just at that moment. They both stopped, stared intently at my crotch for several seconds, and then the woman pulled her husband along without delay. I couldn't help but blush and feel my heart race as I watched his eyes remain fixed on me even as his wife began to fling indignant and unrepeatable epithets toward him and, without reservation, me. I never even considered drawing my knees together; to flash unsuspecting strangers was the fulfillment of a promise I wouldn't break, no matter how insulting, or humiliating.

"Oh, wow! That was a good one," Sam laughed in great delight.

"Oh, god," I moaned in resignation, even as my nipples ached from being so hard. 

That's when Sam's cell phone rang. He was still laughing when he answered it. He listened and made some monosyllabic replies, and then handed it to me. It was Marc. He called to tell me that his client was flying him to Catalina; they would be here for dinner, and for me to get a hotel room for us to stay the night. He asked a few questions about how I liked sailing and other chatty things, and then hung up. 

"Well, it appears you'll be sailing back without me," I told Sam. "Do you know any good hotels around here?"

"If we have to find a hotel, we better get going. We don't have much time..."

Sam stood up and pulled me up along with him. The antique store was another two blocks away, so he had time to explain about the broach his father had sent him to pick up for his Mom's birthday. I neither cared about, nor listened to everything he said about the authentication process and the paperwork involved with the precious item, but wondered instead, as he babbled on, whether he would rat me out to Marc, and if he would keep his promise to find me a new tail. I could feel my resolve to think about something other than my asshole weakening, and I tried to be strong, but nevertheless I looked forward to examining the inventory of this store with only one thought in mind.

"NO SHIRT, NO SHOES, NO SERVICE," read the large sign on the door of the shop. Sam and I stopped and looked at each other. He looked longingly at his shirt and my eyes grew wide in disbelief of what he could be thinking. With a slight nod I drew his attention to the people walking by and made a face that would make the devil himself modify his evil plans.

"Come on," he said as he opened the door and ushered us through it.

"May I help you?" a clerk of about forty challenged in a haughty voice as he stepped in front of us to bar our going any further into the store.

"We're here to see Mr. Long about a broach my dad bought," Sam spoke up.

"The Senior Mr. Long is in his office, but you cannot go back there like that."

"I know, but she has my shirt," Sam pointed to me, "and I really need to see Mr. Long. Could you at least get him for me?"

"All I can do is ask you to leave. Come back when you are properly attired."

"I don't have time for this. Please tell Mr. Long I'm here!"

Sam's plea was met with an icy stare.

"Please," Sam repeated.

"If the lady is wearing your shirt, I suggest she give it back to you, then you may go to Mr. Long's office."

"Yes, but then she won't have a shirt, and we're right back where we started."

"The rule does not apply to the ladies," he answered as if that was an obvious exception any reasonable person would know.

"Okay, you asked for it." Sam smirked and looked at me. "Give me back my shirt, Liza," he said. 

I gasped in disbelief, even though I sensed it was coming. Why is it that everything I fear most always happens? My eyes ran quickly over what I could see of the small shop, but the fact that no other people were there gave me little comfort. 

"I...I'm not wearing a bathing suit under this," I stammered to the clerk.

To my amazement, he just shrugged his shoulders, as if to ward off unnecessary and unwanted information and made no reply.

"I need my shirt, Liza," Sam pressed.

I swallowed hard as I reached for the top button. I don't know whether I was guarding that button, or preparing to comply. I just wanted the joke to be over. The very idea of disrobing for a stranger in a public place was way beyond anything I might have imagined, despite my anklet's promise of "anytime," and "no limits." This was very different from the playful flashing Sam expects, or getting naked for trusted friends in safe surroundings to titillate my husband. It occurred to me that my ability to keep a promise was going to be tested to the utmost.

"Hurry up, Liza. We don't have a lot of time. I don't want to navigate the marina back home in the dark."

I tried to move my fingers that were still holding the top button, but I couldn't. I was dumbstruck. Sam finally lost his patience and reached for the bottom button. My hands went to his, but they didn't stop him, only followed his progress. He unbuttoned it and moved quickly to the next. My hands continued to rest on his. The second button was loosened, then the next. I bowed my head. My breathing quickened.

"Marc will love hearing about this," he whispered in my ear as the next button came loose.

With the next button the shirt no longer hid my pussy, and with the loosening of the last one it fell away completely. Sam spread the shirt wide as he pushed it down my shoulders and off. My purse tumbled to the floor, but I paid it no mind. As my arms were released from the sleeves, I brought one to cover my pussy and the other across my breasts. The clerk leered. Sam winked mischievously, but didn't fuss about how I hid myself. 




Liza's New Life Ch. 03



Sam quickly put on his shirt, pushed past the clerk, and made his way to the back of the store. He disappeared behind a row of cabinets, and then I heard a distant knock on a door. It opened, I heard muffled voices, and then it closed.

"I have a necklace that would look just stunning on you," the clerk found his tongue.

"Um...sure," I didn't know how else to reply, what else to do.

"This way," he pointed to the other side of the store where a case stood against the wall, and then led me there by the elbow of the arm that was tightly clamped at my pussy. He unlocked the sturdy, antique case and took one out.

"This one is made of sapphires, worn by the Duchess of Kent in 1852. It matches your eyes beautifully," the clerk said with genuine sincerity. He leaned forward to attach it around my neck. "There, let's look at it in the mirror."

He led me again by the elbow to the middle of the store to stand in front of a full-length mirror. He stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders, near my neck, as if ready to snatch the pretty bobble. I gazed at myself. I was amazed. There stood a woman whom I hardly recognized: a ridiculous figure holding her pudenda in a public place like a five-year-old. Around her neck was the most beautiful setting of gems I had ever seen. The hands of a stranger were at her throat.

"Your arm there, across your chest, detracts from the necklace," he said matter-of-factly. 

"What?" is all I could reply.

"Put your arm down...to better appreciate the necklace."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't think I like you."

"Why not?"

"You were rude."

"And if I were to apologize?" His voice softened.

"Maybe it's too late."

"People can change. You believe that."

"Are you saying you'll never be rude again?"

"Never," he said with a whimsical smile.

I smiled and he saw my reflected smile. 

"I don't have to show myself to you, you know. Sam didn't say so."

"If Sam said so, though, you would?"

I nodded, feeling instantly stupid that I had blurted out such a thing. The last thing I needed was for somebody else to learn the secrets of my anklet, my promises, and my life. 

"And if you liked me, you'd do it on your own?"

I nodded again, tentatively, cursing my honesty.

"If I invited you to a party at my house this evening, would you like me?"

"I'd hate you for being a dirty old man."

"But my wife is having the biggest pig roast this side of Hawaii. Half the island will be there."

"Really?"

"Really!"

"And just how would you introduce a naked woman to your wife?"

"By her name, of course."

I laughed, and he laughed. 

"What's your name?" I asked.

"John. John Long."

I cocked my head in disbelief.

"Yes, it's true. My grandfather thought it was rather clever. He saddled my father with it, and now I've got it."

"So, that's you father?" I nodded toward the office.

"Yeah. We run this place together."

"How much is the necklace?"

"I won't tell you."

"Why not?"

"You're hiding something from me," he motioned toward my arms, "so I'm hiding something from you."

"So, that's the way it is..."

"Yep. You show me yours and I'll tell you mine."

"Maybe I don't care."

"You care. You're dying to know, because you want to know whether or not you can afford it. You want it, don't you?"

"It's beautiful," I exhaled longingly. I stared into the mirror.

"It's not nearly as beautiful as it could be. Put your arms to your sides, and the necklace will come alive. You'll see. Your unnatural stance is preventing us from seeing it at its best."

I gave him a look that said I wasn't a complete fool, but slowly removed my arm from my breasts, anyway. My nipples sprang to full length. I watched them in the mirror. The hand between my legs also fell to the side. He was right. The necklace seemed destined to adorn a proud, naked body. It dangled and sparkled above my breasts, making my nipples dance. My pussy glistened and seemed to catch the reflected light of the sapphires. I never felt so beautiful. We were mesmerized. 

The bell attached to the front door began to chime. We both jumped, but I jumped highest. When my feet hit the floor, I ran to the back of the store and ducked behind a roll-top desk. John went to greet his new customer. 

"I've come to have another look at that table," the intruder said.

I peeked from my blind to see a tall man in a uniform – a policeman's uniform. I ducked back as cold shivers ran through my whole body, and I had a sudden, desperate urge to pee.

'God, what next?' I muttered to myself.



Liza's New Life Ch. 04



As I crouched, naked, behind the antique desk in that small shop, the fear of being arrested by the policeman just several feet away pressed on me. I held my breath as I heard him talking to John, the owner, and pushed my hand against myself to keep from peeing, right there. I trembled.

"I'm telling you, Peter," I heard John say, "Gina really loved this when she saw it yesterday. It matches her nightstand perfectly. These tiny drawers are perfect for her weights, and this deeper one could be for her belts or other items."

"Yeah, but she's got too much crap in her bedroom, now." The policeman shook his head.

"Well, if you want to disappoint her..."

"Ah, jeez," he groaned.

"Say, I asked Jess to come by your place later to get those tables and chairs for the party, okay?"

"Yeah, fine. If I'm not there, Gina will be."

Even as scared as I was, my curiosity was peeked, and I wanted to catch a glimpse of the person who pronounced the name Gina to rhyme with Vagina; that intrigued me, I can't say why. I placed my hand on top of the desk to steady myself as I slowly rose from the crouched position to peer over the desk. What I hadn't felt before was that my hand was not solidly on the top of the desk, but on a fragile tray that was awkwardly balanced on other items. As I put my weight on it, the tray went flying and crashed to the floor, its noisy contents scattering hither and yon.

Something must have happened, there must have been some sequence of events between the sound of the crash and my finding myself bent over the top of the store counter, naked butt swaying in the air, hands cuffed behind my back, but I can't remember. I could hear John's voice, and the policeman's, and even Sam's, but the words were blended, frantic, and nonsensical to my ears. I couldn't see the argument; a heavy hand in the middle of my back kept me pressed to the counter, my breasts squashed and flattened, my head pushed to one side, my neck strained. I was scared to death and the urgency to pee filled my senses. I had to hold my breath and clamp my thighs together with all my might.

Eventually the voices became distinguishable one from another, their tone and volume more constant, and they took turns, establishing an order to the chaos. I was able to discern finally that John was convincing the policeman that I wasn't a threat to the established order, that Sam and he were responsible for my state of undress, that the necklace was not stolen, and that the handcuffs should be removed. 

As order came closer and closer to being completely restored, the pressure on my back was correspondingly decreased, until finally the forceful pinning became but a gentle touch between my shoulder blades. The heavy hand at last tenderly took me by the arm and lifted me from the counter to help me stand. I saw the owner of the handcuffs clearly for the first time. His guilty, remorseful smile and the sincerity in his regard reassured me. I didn't feel afraid anymore.

It was just another instant before all hell broke loose again, however. Among the shouts and wild gestures from the three men hovering close to my naked body, I was able to comprehend at last that the key to the handcuffs would not work. I began to cry, and tremble, and the flow of urine began with no stopping it. The more I peed, the more I sobbed, and the snot ran from my nose. I felt myself a fountain of tears, snot and pee. My three tormentors looked on me with shock and horror. They were stunned to silence. 

They seemed long in coming, but paper towels finally appeared and were spread at my feet, wiped along my legs, and pressed to my nose. Sam cleaned my pussy and inner thighs, pushing them roughly apart. John mopped the floor, and the policeman cared for my face. I had never had so many hands on me at once, but all I sensed was a humiliation like none I'd yet experienced since the beginning of this saga, when my husband undressed me in front of Sam and Jake. As shocking as that first exposure was, and the even more humiliating experiences of public nudity and spankings, not even the humiliation of the anklet's promises itself, nothing could prepare me for what was happening now.

A lace tablecloth about the size of a beach towel was finally wrapped around me and fastened with a paperclip. The beautiful necklace was removed from my neck, but the handcuffs remained. Decisions about my immediate future were made and bargains were struck on my behalf: The policeman would take me to his house to be looked after by his sister while he tried to find the correct key. No charges would be brought against me for indecency if I didn't make an issue about the handcuffs and key, and agreed to cooperate until they could be removed. Sam would call Marc and tell him where to find me on his arrival several hours hence. 

The policeman led Sam and me through an alley to an electric cart, apparently the "squad car" of this island hamlet. I was anxious to climb aboard and get going, but Sam just stood me up against it, left me there, and pulled Peter aside for a private conversation. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground, not at all wanting to catch the eye of some hapless passerby, hoping against hope that this humiliating pose in this not-too-secluded area of town would soon end. When Sam and the policeman returned, Sam gently lifted the lace covering my pussy.

"I won't see you again for a while," Sam said, "So I want to kiss you good-bye, as is our custom."

My eyes grew large at the though of what was about to happen and I looked at Peter, seeing in him now an accomplice to Sam's demands and understanding what their conversation had been about. I had no choice but to agree, because one of my promises was that, if he asked me nicely, Sam was always welcome to kiss me "hello" and "good-bye" on the lips. He knelt to my urine-stained crotch and I spread my feet to allow him room. Embarrassed, I turned my face away from Peter's scrutiny. I felt Sam's lips against mine. His tongue brushed my clitoris on his way inside me, in the fashion of the French. Sam's mouth encircled my pussy, his tongue thrusting and recoiling, taking energy from my heat. I did not want to think about what must have been going through Peter's mind as he watched. I shuddered at the thought of his gaze and the action of Sam's mouth.

The kiss went on as long as it could to still be called a kiss, and then I was put in the passenger seat and driven to Peter's house. It wasn't far, and I gasped at the beautiful structure perched majestically on the side of a hill, overlooking the bay. I couldn't believe this was where a policeman lived. He parked on the street and led me up a well-groomed, landscaped path with a series of granite steps. The door was one of those huge double doors with a knob in the center of each side. The place just reeked of old money.

In the entryway a young woman in her early twenties greeted us, having no doubt observed us coming up the path. 

"Peter, I'm so glad you came home early," she said with urgency in her voice after only the quickest recognition of my existence. "I need you to take me to the bathroom, okay? He'll be right back," she addressed me over her shoulder as she dragged him down the hall and out of sight. 

I just stood there, wondering what the meaning of that was. I wandered into a large room filled with expensive antiques. Original paintings adorned the walls. 'Hum,' I said to myself, 'a person could get used to something like this real quick.'

A telescope stood in the corner, trained at the bay. I couldn't resist taking a peek. In the distance, which seemed very close, I could see Sam's boat. It looked alone, abandoned. I wondered what they were doing, whether Lynn was now sporting an anklet like mine. I pictured her sitting at the café where we had agreed to meet before all hell broke loose. I imagined that her knees were spread according to Jake's instructions, her pussy dripping from the stares of strangers. I longed to be with them, but the thought that I would soon have these handcuffs off and nestled warmly in Marc's chest gave me cause to smile.

Peter and Gina found me in my happy place.

"Is there anything you need before I go?" Peter asked.

"I'm awfully thirsty."

"Gina, get her a coke, will you?"

Gina went to the kitchen.

"Walk with me to the door," Peter said and led me back to the entry. "You'll be fine. I've told her to take good care of you until I get back... Just one little caution: don't ask any questions about our folks, okay?"

"Your folks?"

"That's right. You'll know what I mean if it comes up."

"What?"

"It's just that she gets a little...distraught...when people talk about our parents, and..."

"What?" I repeated, almost shouting this time.

"Shhh! It's fine. Never mind. Forget I mentioned it. You're perfectly safe. But don't talk about the mainland, either. She doesn't like to hear about it and is content to think everybody lives the way we do."

"Yeah, right," I rolled my eyes and looked at the opulence surrounding me. "Anything else?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Just one more thing: I promised John to bring back his tablecloth."

Peter quickly removed the paper clip and drew the cover from me. I took a quick breath as Gina came around the corner with my coke. I tried to hide behind Peter, but he quickly moved, opened the door and disappeared on the other side. I stared at Gina with the eyes of a trapped animal. There I was naked and handcuffed before this stranger, without the slightest clue what was in store for me.

"I put a straw in it for you, see?" she said, smiling broadly.

"Um, thanks," I said, twisting my body, trying in vain to hide it. "Um, do you have anything I could borrow? To put on?" I'm sure she could sense the agitation in my voice.

"Of course, that's why Peter brought you here. He told me to take care of you, see to your every need. And we certainly can't let you run around like that! You don't even have a belt on for god's sake! Well, we'll get this coke down you, Peter said, and then we'll fix you up. Come on, let's sit down and I'll help you drink your coke."

She took me by the arm and led me back to the living room. At the couch she pulled down on me and we both plopped down together. I lost my balance and fell against the back. With my hands behind me, I couldn't sit up straight. I struggled to sit up, but couldn't. I thought she would help me, but instead she just brought the straw to my lips as I sprawled in that awkward position.

"Here, take a sip," she said.

I was still sucking when she removed the straw from my lips. Coke dribbled down my chin. 

"There, that's enough for now," she announced and set the can on the coffee table.

"I'm awfully uncomfortable," I complained. "Could you help me sit up?"

"You're lucky." She looked at me with genuine envy.

"Why do you say that?" I put my legs in the air and rocked my body until I was able to sit upright on the edge of the couch. I figured out how to use my hands in back to balance.

"It must be a special occasion to have the fetters in back."

"Special occasion?" I stammered.

"Is it your birthday?"

"No."

"Hum," she said thoughtfully. "That's the last time I got 'em."

"Got what?"

"Yes, it was last month, on my twenty-first birthday. Oh, it was great! Peter took extra care of me all day. I didn't have to do a single thing for myself! Who takes care of you?"

"I don't..."

"Oh, well, that explains, it then."

"What?"

"Why Peter brought you home. He takes in strays all the time..."

"I'm not a stray."

"There's usually a dog, or a cat around here..."

"Listen, could you please get me something to wear? I feel rather awkward sitting here like this."

"Hey! That's a cute little anklet."

"Thank you. It was a gift."

"Ah, so, somebody does take care of you?"

"I'm perfectly capable..."

"More coke?"

"Yes, please."

She put the straw to my lips and I sucked.

"How come you're not wearing your belt?"

"I don't know what you mean. You're not wearing a belt, either."

"Of course I am, silly. Peter takes care of me; you know that."

"What are you talking about?"

"If you're done with your coke, we'll go downstairs and I'll take care of you. I'll give you one of my belts to wear. I'll take care of you until Peter gets home. Peter said so."

"I need more than a belt..."

"Well, of course, silly, something festive, to go with the fetters. When Peter comes back I'll ask for mine, too. I want fetters!"

"Fetters?"

"Come on, don't be silly."

She helped me up and led me down a wide stairway to the basement. 

The room downstairs was huge. Large windows at one end opened up on a beautiful view of the ocean. At the other end was a large entertainment center. Sofas and chairs were placed to take advantage of not only the view and the television, but also surrounded a large pole in the center of the room. It was a modern piece of art, with different shapes and metals, and hooks. Hooks were everywhere on it.

"Okay, I'll put you over here on the pole, then I'll start taking care of you," she said in a cheery voice.

I was still trying to figure out the preposition "on," when I felt a snap at the handcuffs behind me. It was like the pole had reached out and grabbed me. I couldn't move my arms more than a couple inches in any direction.

"What the devil!"

"Isn't that nice? You like that, huh?" Gina said sincerely and cheerfully.

"I'm stuck to this pole!"

"Not stuck, silly."

"Help me get loose! And stop calling me silly!"

A hurt look came over her face and her lips began to quiver. Peter's assurance that I was perfectly safe suddenly rang hollow. I decided that perhaps I'd better try to talk my way out of this.

"I'm sorry, don't cry. I am silly. You're right. I'm just being silly."

She brightened right away. She lifted the hem of her dress to wipe a tear that had welled up and that's when I saw it. The belt she was talking about was underneath her dress. It was a narrow leather belt that had a thick piece of leather extending down the front into her crotch. That's all I could see before she dropped her hem.

"Okay, I forgive you. I should have known you were just being silly again. You're just a big tease, aren't you?" 

"Yeah, that's me."

"Okay, let's get you dressed, then."

"Finally," I exclaimed.

Beside one of the over-stuffed chairs facing the pole was an end table with drawers and she started to rummage around in one of them.

"So, your name is pronounced 'Gina,' with a long 'i' as in the word eye?" I asked her as she tried another drawer. I wanted to engage her in friendly conversation, hoping that would help the situation. "That's something new to me. Is it short for Virginia?"

"Well, yes and no." She abandoned her search and turned to face me as she talked, seemingly incapable of doing two things at once. "Have you had your maintenance today?" She changed the subject.

"Maintenance?"

"Yes, silly, your maintenance. Now don't start teasing again!"

"No, I won't tease." I frantically tried to figure out what she was talking about.

"Peter said you needed to be taken care of... Sure, that's why he took your belt off, for maintenance, right? Now it makes sense. You can't just skip a day, you know, and he knew there won't be time later, what with the party and all."

"All I want is to get dressed..."

"Yes, I know. I'm looking for just the right belt for you, but since you haven't had your maintenance, we should do that first. Once you've got your belt on, it's not always convenient to have it taken off, you know."

"What are you talking about?" was all I could mutter in confusion. I pulled at the restraint at my wrists, but to no avail.

"Yes, this should do it," she whispered to herself as she took something from the drawer. "What's your normal weight," she asked as she approached me.

"I weight about a hundred and ten pounds, I guess," I replied hoping she was getting a sense for what size dress to bring me.

"No, not that, silly," she said. "During maintenance, I mean. What weight do you use?"

"What?" was all I could stammer as she knelt in front of me, forced my legs apart, spread my pussy lips, and attached a clamp to my clitoris. "Ouch," I yelled as I felt the pinch. "Stop it! You're hurting me. Please!" 

I pulled hard with my wrists to try to break free of the pole. I started to bring my legs together, but that just pricked the sides of my slit against the clamp and it hurt even more, piercing me. I spread my feet apart as wide as I possibly could.

"I know," she said with genuine compassion. "I recon sometimes maintenance can be that way. It's always harder when you've had to miss for some reason, and it sure looks like you haven't been cared for properly, that's for sure."

"Please take it off," I moaned, the searing pain from the initial pinch now settling into a dull, throbbing pain. "Please," I begged.

Gina went to the drawer and came back with a piece of lead about twice the size of her thumb. It had an eyelet on it and she attached it to a hook that dangled from the clamp at my clit. I watched through watery eyes as the weight stretched me and stung me at the base as she released it. It swung between my legs, pulling my clit back and forth to a length I never dreamed possible.

"No, please, no!" I shouted. "It's going to tear me apart. Stop it!"

Then Gina did an extraordinary thing. She stood in front of me, pressed her body against mine, and gently guided my head to rest in the cradle formed by her neck and shoulder. She reached around me in a hug and held me gently, soothingly. She petted my back and made "shushing" sounds as one might make to a child who has just skinned her knee. Indeed, I felt as if a loving parent were comforting me. I cried and ground my face into her shoulder. I shuddered and the weight at the end of the clamp swung wider, sending jolt after jolt of searing pain through my pudenda. I yelped and pleaded.

"There, now, it's alright," she cooed and soothed me, "that's the hard part and it's all done. You're a good girl. Be brave, now, like all good girls. Shhh, shhh..." She continued to hug me and stroke my back between my shoulders.

I couldn't make sense of what was happening to me and stopped trying. My clitoris was on fire and my whole pussy throbbed. The phlegm in my throat piled up and nearly choked me, allowing only plaintive gurgling sounds in place of the screams I intended. I sobbed like a punished child.

Slowly, lovingly, Gina raised my head from her shoulder and moved gently away, making sure I could stand on my own. She wiped my eyes and nose with her hand, and then scurried back to the drawer for two more clamps. My eyes bugged out, a moan of frightened despair escaped my mouth. Gina kissed my forehead.

"It's going to be okay," she said encouragingly. "This is the part I like best."

"No!"

I just as well not have protested, because it made no difference. Gina clamped one nipple, then the other. She worked studiously; making sure her tortuous task was performed just right. The searing pain tore into each of my breasts, now making three the points of fire stinging my body. I blubbered through the snot that filled my nostrils and throat. Tears ran down my cheeks and fell to the floor, making a puddle there. I groaned and moaned to a deaf audience.

Her next trip to the drawer brought the weights to the nipple clamps. Through the throbbing and the pulling I was only obliquely aware that Gina had bent me forward at the waist, making it so the entire breast was pulled downward by the weight, not just the nipple. She helped me hold my head level with my shoulders, even cradled me in that position, again stroking me and saying "shh," and wiping my nose and eyes. 

The pain spread from the three points where the clamps dug into my flesh and the weights pulled it taut. My hips ached and my thighs quivered. My ribs felt like they were taking a beating. My back was breaking. My eyesight was beginning to fade, and then in the haze I suddenly saw Peter and heard a shout above my moans. The room grew dark. More pain than I could ever describe shot through me, and then it stopped.




Liza's New Life Ch. 04



I don't know what time it was when I woke up. I was lying on my side in a large bed, a sheet pulled up to my waist, covering my lower half only. My arms were still manacled behind me, but the huge down-filled pillow under my head relieved any pressure from my shoulder. I looked down at my breasts. My nipples were bright red, somewhat flattened, and gently throbbed. I wanted to rub them in the worst way, but my hands were useless. The next thing I noticed was a sweet aroma. I was pleased to discern that it was coming from my own skin -- I had obviously been washed, and washed well. I felt well scrubbed as a matter of fact. The next thing I noticed as I came to my senses was the dull pain in my pussy, and I needed to investigate. 

I rocked my hips and sat up. With my leg I kicked off the sheet and spread my knees to have a look. Around my waist was fastened a belt, like the one I had briefly seen on Gina. From the center of the belt descended a piece of rope fashioned from leather about an inch thick. It traversed snugly down between my pussy lips, then up the back where it pressed my rosebud, and fastened finally at the back of the belt. I could feel a small lock at the back of the belt where the rope was tightly fastened. I didn't know whether the throbbing at my clit was a residual from the clamp and weights, or a consequence of the rope. I concluded it was probably both. 

I wondered what time it was. I wondered what I should do next. I wondered what was on the other side of the door, but was afraid to find out. As long as I was alone, nobody was hurting me, I figured. I wondered where Marc was. I wondered if he was on his way to rescue me from this mad girl and her brother.

The door opened slightly, quietly. A head came through the opening. Peter smiled broadly when he saw me sitting upright.

"Hi, sleepy head," he beamed. "How ya doing?"

"Um, okay, I guess," I answered in a befuddled tone, unsure how to act, hoping against hope that he had come to deliver me. Instinctively my arms strained at the cuffs, trying to move in front to cover my bare breasts. I tried to bury my butt as deeply into the mattress as possible.

"Good, good." He approached the bed. His demeanor was friendly and respectful. I felt somewhat reassured by his look, but still somewhat apprehensive, the lingering pain reminding me of the danger. He sat down beside me and looked me in the eyes. He smiled. "Gina made a mistake. I'm sorry I didn't leave better instructions."

I opened my mouth, but my jaw just dropped without making a sound. I didn't know what to think. This was the understatement of the century. His tone was no different than if he were apologizing for serving the wrong wine. This was really bizarre.

"She meant well, you know, but just didn't know how to do it right," he continued. My eyes bugged out, not believing what I was hearing. "You know, she just got carried away with the responsibility of taking care of you. She wanted so much to make me proud of her, the poor dear. It's partially my fault. I've never shown her how to assess progress, so she didn't know any better than to use on you what she's used to. Obviously she shouldn't have done that. I've explained to her what she did wrong, and she won't make that mistake again. I'll make sure she knows what she's doing before she goes it alone again." He paused and waited for me to say something.

"She...she hurt me...so bad," was all I could stammer, the tears now welling up at the memory.

Peter put his arm around my shoulders and comforted me. I put my head against his and breathed heavily.

"Shh," he said. "It's alright, now. Shhh. It's all over now and she won't make that mistake again. She understands, now. Believe me."

I decided for the time being not to try to make sense of this strange apology or this bizarre, hurtful place. I needed to address more urgent matters.

"Did you find the key?" I asked with a quivering, expectant voice.

"It turns out that another officer has it. We exchanged keys by mistake."

"But you have it now, right?"

"No, he's on the mainland today. He won't be back until tomorrow or the next day."

"What? You mean I'm stuck like this? Cut them off, please!" 

"No, that's impossible. Any damage to city property would have to be reported, then questions would be asked. Unless you want me to have to go ahead with arresting you, you better not even think about cutting those cuffs."

"But Marc will be here in a little while...with his client. His client! He can't see me like this."

"Well, about that..."

"What?" 

"Marc called while you were asleep. It turns out that the airplane had some mechanical difficulty. They weren't able to come after all."

"What?"

"Now, don't worry. I had a nice long talk with him and we got everything all figured out."

"What?" I couldn't help but continue to stammer. "I want to talk to him! Let me talk to Marc."

"Yes, of course. He wants to talk to you, too. We'll call him right now. I'll hold the telephone for you. It's downstairs." He stood up and tugged gently on my arm to help me stand up.

"Um, could I get dressed first?" I didn't want to encounter in the nude whatever there might be downstairs.

Peter sat back down on the edge of the bed and maneuvered me to a standing position in front of him. He held me at my hips, looking up into my eyes. His expression was grave, as if he had something difficult to explain to a child. I knew I wasn't going to like what he had to say. My breasts heaved. My sore clitoris throbbed against the leather strap that was now pulled tighter by my standing position.

"As you probably guessed, Liza," he began, "Sam told me about your anklet, you know, there in the alley before he kissed you."

I caught my breath. I remembered the last time someone learned the promises of the anklet: "anything, no limits, anytime." It was Lynn, who then proceeded to assume that I owed her the promises, too. I accepted the logic of Lynn's inclusion: she was Jake's girlfriend, and the precedent for extending my promises had already been set by Marc. He said that Steve had the right to see me naked anytime he wanted, simply because what I owed to Sam and Jake should also be owed his best friend. I let my breath out in a long sigh.

"And then I got the rest of the story from Marc," he continued, "So you see, I'm called upon to see to certain things..."

"What things?" I heard myself ask, a hint of defiance in my voice at last.

"Well, your husband explained that you adhere to a certain lifestyle, er, mode of dress, or undress, I guess. He doesn't want you to backslide on your good habits while you're here, and he made me promise that you wouldn't.

"Good habits?" I stammered.

"Yeah. For example, he said you're accustomed to being naked in the house...and...other protected areas."

I just bowed my head in response. I knew that's what Marc wants, what he dreams about, and what he would certainly tell this stranger about our bizarre game of "promises." I also knew that I would try to do it for him, but whether or not I could manage here, without him...

"Let's see," he pondered, "and your knees are supposed to stay apart by...how many...six inches, is it?"

"Jake likes nine," I heard myself say softly, surprising even myself. I spread my knees, as if on cue.

"Who's Jake?" Peter asked.

"The co-author of the anklet," I admitted, amazed that I could suddenly be so open about these things. Perhaps it was the way he was holding me, like an inquisitive parent to whom I owed explanations.

"Okay, so there's Sam and Jake with the anklet, and your husband Marc, of course. Who else takes care of you?"

"Takes care of me?" I repeated, still trying to figure out what that meant, why people kept saying it.

"Yes, you know -- takes you to the bathroom, for example."

"Ally likes to take me to the bathroom, and the boys, too," I replied, shocked that I had an answer to such a bizarre question.

"Well, you see, you fit right in here with us. Anyway, I jotted down Marc's instructions, and I promised I'd see to them."

"I suppose he told you no underwear when I go out?" My tone was one of resignation.

"Yes, but there we had a little difference of opinion. Since he was kind enough to tell me about your habits on the mainland, I told him about how we do things here on Catalina, and he decided he liked some of our customs. So, to make a long story short, you'll be glad to know that you'll be able to wear the belt from now on. You can thank Gina for that, too. She helped convince Marc."

"Marc talked to Gina?"

"They had a nice chat," he laughed good-naturedly. "She really gave it to him about your poor care. It took her a long time to believe you were really married, in view of the neglect."

"Neglect?" I stammered.

"Well, it's your button she's most upset about, of course."

"My button?"

"She can't believe you managed to get married with such a short one. That Marc has done nothing about it is, well, in her words, just criminal. She wanted me to arrest him. She doesn't really know much about the mainland, you know. She's been pretty sheltered, here."

"What are you talking about?" I finally managed.

"Well, never mind. It's all settled now."

"What is?"

"Okay, here's the thing. Marc says you can wear the belt - but only the belt - in the house. When you need to go out, and for your return to the mainland, he gave us some ideas for what you can wear. Gina's working on those instructions from what she's got in her closet, but we might have to go shopping, too."

"I guess I'd better talk to Marc," I said in resignation, hoping that perhaps he would be able to tell me what these crazy people were talking about. I wanted to talk to someone sane and get some straight answers, but mainly I wanted to convince him to get me out of here, quick.

We went downstairs, but before we could get to the room with the telephone, Gina caught sight of me and ran to greet me. She hugged me and kissed me several times on both cheeks.

"How's my little sleepy head, huh?" She beamed as she held me. "Feeling better after your nap?"

"Um, yeah," is all I could gurgle.

"I'm going to make us some tea, okay? Okay, you little silly!"

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"Gina," Peter broke in, "We're going to call Marc first, okay?"

"Okay," she released me and stepped back to look at me. I felt her gaze on my naked breasts and saw it go down to my roped crotch. "You tell him we're taking care of you. Good Care!" she emphasized.

"Okay," I smiled wanly as Peter took me by the elbow to the other room.

My telephone conversation with Marc was devastating. We called him on his cell, and a good thing, because he was already on his way to the airport for a flight to New York. I almost fainted when I heard that. It was like a judge had condemned me to death. He assured me that all would be well, though. His trip to New York, though unavoidable, would only last a few days and that Steve would pick me up at the airport in Long Beach whenever I got the handcuffs off and arranged for a flight back. He told me to be a good girl, do as Gina and Peter tell me, and ended with what I considered the nails in my coffin: "And keep your promises," he admonished me like a ten-year-old.

When I heard him hang up, my knees gave way and I sat directly down on the floor. My head was spinning.

Peter picked me up like a rag doll and carried me to the couch. He got me comfortably seated and called to Gina to bring me a wet rag for my head. 

"Everything is okay, silly," I heard Gina say over and over as she wiped my forehead and face, applying an occasional kiss to my cheek. "We're going to take care of you, now. Oh, oh," she pressed my knees apart, "we promised Marc about that, you silly!"

When she finished with the cloth, she brought the tea and some scones, which she placed on the coffee table. She brought the teacup to my lips gently, cautioning me that it may be hot. I sipped, and then sipped some more. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was. The scone, fed to me in small bites, helped revive me, too. It was blueberry, my favorite. The more alert I became, though, the more apprehensive I was about my future, and the throbbing at my clitoris became more noticeable. I tried to shift in my seat, to better adjust the leather deep within my slit, but nothing seemed to help. The only consolation was that the rope was also tightly pressed against my anus, and that actually felt pretty good to me.

Peter and Gina talked about the party at John's house as they fed me. 

"No, she can't go like this. That's all there is to it," he told Gina. "Too many questions would be asked about the cuffs. The fewer people who know I misplaced the key the better."

"You don't have the key?" Gina absorbed this new piece of information.

"No, and I don't want you to tell anybody, either."

"Oh, that's silly," she teased. "Nobody cares about that."

"I'm trying to establish a position in the community and I don't want people to think I can't keep track..."

"Oh, pish-posh." 

I don't know why, but I thought it might be safer for me if they didn't argue, so I tried asking a question to change the subject.

"Gina, you never did tell me about your name; why is it pronounced the way it is?"

"Oh, it's a childhood nickname," Peter answered for her. "It started on the playground one day and just stuck. You know how these things happen..."

"But a nickname for what? I don't understand."

"It's short for..." Gina broke in and touched herself at her crotch.

"Oh, my! You mean the kids called you Gina, short for Vagina?" I just had to say it out loud. "How did that happen?"

"Oh, all right," Peter resigned himself to the telling. "Here's the whole story." 

Gina brought the teacup to my lips and signaled for me to take another sip as her brother began the tale. 

"Her real name is Virginia," Peter started, "but from day one our folks called her Gina, to rhyme with their favorite liquor. The final 'a' gave it a certain Italian flair, I guess. Well, when the kids at school got old enough to understand the meanings of certain words, they just had to play with the names Peter and Gina. One bright kid decided that if her older brother was named after the male anatomy, Gina was surely named after the female. He declared that Gina was short for Vagina, and made sure everybody on the playground pronounced her name to rhyme with the body part."

"Oh, that's wild," I chuckled. "But just because some kids on the playground called her..."

"Well," Gina jumped in again, "the thing was that because the two pronunciations are so close, interchangeable, people would hear it either way and accept it, repeating it however they last heard it. Even the teachers became confused. When Peter found out," she gave him a little poke, "he started doing it, and then my parents started doing it."

"Your parents?"

"Well," Peter answered, "they didn't realize where it came from at first, and when it did dawn on them, they actually thought it was cute and wondered why they hadn't thought of it first."

"So you've been pronouncing it this way ever since?" I added.

"Oh, yes," Gina said enthusiastically. "It's my name, now. I wouldn't have it any other way. Once mom and dad..." Her voice trailed off and she looked away with moisture forming in her eyes.

Peter went over to his sister and embraced her.

"It's hard for Gina to talk about our parents," he said tenderly.

"No, it's not. I can talk about them," she shouted defiantly. "We have to talk about them. We have to!"

"Okay, talk away, then," he said releasing her and settling back in his place on the other side of me. 

Peter took over her job of feeding me my tea as he thought of a way to change the subject.

"I was just going to explain to Liza that 'Gina' may have come from the playground, but it was really mom and dad who made it stick, wasn't it Peter? It was their way of making sure we wouldn't forget maintenance, like some women, huh?" She looked at me disdainfully. "They were telling me to be careful not to end up like Liza, huh?" She touched herself at her crotch again, but this time her hand went under the hem of her short summer frock. She reminded me of Ally like that, but the image was fleeting. The rituals of this bizarre couple were really beginning to weigh on me. "I swear that as long as the memory of my mother is in me, I'll never have a button as short as Liza's. That's for damned sure." She shook with emotion, and then sat exhausted, as if burned out.

I looked at Peter with eyes big and round, looking for sense in what I'd just heard.

He took a deep breath and continued: "I was just finishing high-school when the accident happened. Gina was thirteen. This was eight years ago."

"Accident?" I asked.

"Our parents were killed in a boating accident. In the harbor. They left us this house and enough money to live on. I joined the force just for something to do, I guess, and to try to maintain our folks' standing in the community. Everyone has been so nice and supportive. Gina wasn't yet at the age to begin stretching when the accident happened, so mom and dad hadn't yet taught us the exercises. Growing up around a thing isn't at all the same as actually doing it, is it?" Peter paused long enough to give me a look of regret, and Gina a sympathetic yet instructional glance. "Well, anyway," he continued, "Thank god John and Amy helped us, or Gina would have ended up looking like you. I want to pay them all back in some way. Gina hasn't quite settled on what she wants to do when she grows up. She's still coming to terms..."

"I'm not crazy, Peter!" She came to life. Those shrinks can't help me, I'm not crazy."

"I know, I know," he replied tenderly. "You don't have to ever talk to them again, I promise."

"Good, you silly," Gina brightened and smiled joyfully.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as Gina brought another piece of scone to my lips. As I shifted, the leather rope pressing against my anus skidded and pummeled my clit. A shooting pain, a remnant from the afternoon's ordeal, caused me to jump. The bite being offered fell not into my mouth, but onto my lap.

"How did you find a husband, being so short and all?" Gina asked, not noticing the blueberry now perched at the top of the rope, just where it began to disappear within me. "Because you see," she continued, "it should be at least three times as long as the nipples, right Peter? That's the standard, right?" She grabbed a hold of my left nipple and squeezed gently. I winced. "Yes, her nipple's about the length it should be, right Peter?"

"Maybe make it a bit longer. Just a little," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Yeah," she pulled my nipple straight out, making me yelp. "A little longer, right. Make her stay with us longer, Peter, please. You can get her in shape, then show her husband what he's doing wrong, okay? We could do maintenance together. You could teach Marc like you did Jess, right?"

The doorbell rang. When Gina jumped up to go answer it, her short summer frock flew high enough for me to see that she still sported the same belted contrivance on her pussy that she wore earlier, one just like the one they put on me. 

"Look, everybody! It's Jess and Susan. Speak of the devil, huh!" She announced as she ushered them into the room.

I wanted to twist my body, to hide my breasts from these newcomers, but it was of little use. I was deeply embedded in the couch, and with my hands behind me I could hardly move my torso at all. The urge to slam my knees shut was overwhelming, but I knew I had to fight it.

Jess looked like a rugged, outdoor type, and Susan looked like a delicate flower with fine, tiny features -- except for one thing. The braless nipples tenting her t-shirt were long and hard. I couldn't believe my eyes, and couldn't look away. They were enormous. I stammered all the way through the introductions, not sure whether I was embarrassed more by my nudity or by my fixation on another woman's breasts. Jess and Susan, both in their early twenties, seemed to take my situation in stride and laughed heartily when Peter gave them an abridged, sanitized version of my capture. He cringed and looked upset when Gina all too willingly added the part about the missing key. He was quick to make them promise they wouldn't tell a soul, not a single living soul.




Liza's New Life Ch. 04



It turned out that they had come to pick up some tables and chairs for John's party, so Peter went with Jess to load the truck. Susan settled on the couch next to me while Gina went to get her a cup of tea.

"You have really nice breasts," she said to me when we were alone.

"Um, thanks," I replied, wishing I could sink into the cushions even further.

"Too soon after maintenance to wear a blouse, huh?" she said nonchalantly, like it was perfectly natural. "Sometimes it takes me hours, that's for sure," she giggled knowingly. "I've been on an accelerated program for about six months. Turns out Jess has a real talent for it," she said softly and proudly, as if confiding a secret she'd rather be boasting about openly.

I was stunned. Things just kept getting more and more bizarre, and I felt like I was going to go crazy if I didn't get a full explanation soon.

"Oh, yes, we had a good session, today," Gina added as she returned with the tea. "But actually it's her husband who didn't want her to wear a shirt."

"Really? How so?" Susan asked Gina, not me.

"I'm not sure, exactly," she said. "They apparently have some strange ways on the mainland, though. You wouldn't believe it!"

I couldn't help but laugh out loud, and continue laughing. The idea that these crazy people on this not-so-remote isle found me bizarre was more than I could endure. My world didn't make any sense, whether on an island off the California coast or in my own apartment. I understood neither my allegiance to my own promises nor my compliance with these strange people. I giggled incoherently. I had to get a grip. I had to pay attention, figure some things out. Gina and Susan stared at me.

"How long are you going to be here," Susan asked me when I calmed down.

"Until Peter gets the key, I guess."

Gina and Susan chuckled again and sipped their tea. 

"Gina," Susan said after a large gulp. "Jess and Peter are going to be a while. Since John's in a hurry to get these things, I hate to ask Jess to stop work just for..."

"Oh, sure. I'd be glad to. You sure Jess wouldn't rather?"

"No, he's busy. He trusts me to you and Peter. You know that."

"Okay, well I guess I'm just taking care of everybody, today," Gina giggled and stood up. "Liza, do you need to go to the bathroom, too?"

As a matter of fact I did, and nodded my head. Susan and Gina each grabbed an arm and helped me stand. The three of us headed to the bathroom.

We'd no sooner gotten through the door of a huge, well-appointed bathroom, than Susan unzipped her short denim skirt, let it fall to the floor, and stepped out of it. Sure enough, she also wore a belt with a leather rope pressing between her pussy lips. She turned her back to Gina who turned the tumblers of the small lock that joined rope to belt. The lock disengaged and she tugged gently at the rope until it dislodged from between her butt cheeks and pussy lips. Susan took it and held it up out of the way, at her chest, then settled on the toilet. As she did, I got yet another shock: Susan's clitoris protruded from her shaved mound like a tiny penis. It had obviously been flattened and pressed within her by the leather, but now freed it stood prominently in view.

Gina stood by her with her hand on her shoulder as the stream began. "Good girl, good girl," she repeated as Susan peed.

When the stream stopped, Susan moved away from the toilet and stood with her feet spread wide. Gina took some paper, dabbed her, threw it in the toilet, and flushed. Susan remained rooted to the spot.

"Do you need an after-pee?" Gina asked as she cast an examining regard at Susan's mound.

"No, thanks. I'm fine. Thinking about the party tonight keeps me plenty moist. Go ahead and take care of Liza."

While I was trying to decipher the meaning of that peculiar exchange, Susan handed Gina the leather rope. Gina drew it tightly between her charge's pussy lips, tucking her clit down inside, and then brought it up the back where part of it disappeared at her rosebud, and finally pulled and stretched it until it came to the place at the belt where the lock could be reattached, holding it firmly in place. I could tell by her grimaces and quiet moans that Susan ached at the tautness of the leather that was cutting her in half, pressing on her enlarged clit, but her attitude toward it remained not just compliant, but eager. She thanked Gina and gave her a kiss on the cheek for a job well done.

"Now it's your turn, silly," she turned to me.

The process was the same for me, and I played my part mimicking exactly what I had watched Susan do. The only difference was that after Gina wiped me, she motioned to Susan to come have a close look at me. I wanted to run and hide when I saw that the two were going to discuss my anatomy, but I knew there was indeed nowhere to run from my promise to cooperate, to be good.

"Look at this button," Gina said to Susan.

"Have you ever seen such a tiny thing on someone her age?"

"Never!" Susan exclaimed. "Why it's as if she's never been cared for at all!"

"Yes, you see. That's what I've been saying," Gina was pleased with herself. "Oh, well," she said to me, "Don't worry. We'll take care of you, now. Don't worry, we'll get you in shape."

I should have worried, but as I stood there in position by the toilet, my feet spread wide, my hands cuffed behind my back, all I could do was be a statue, and statues don't worry. I thought back to another time I felt this way: when Marc disrobed me for the first time in front of Sam and Jake. I closed my eyes to see the adoration of the boys, feel the pride of my husband at my revelation. I wanted to recapture the good feelings that came after the humiliation, and apply them to this situation.

My reverie was disturbed when I felt the leather forced hard into my slit, against my "shamefully tiny button." Gina nearly lifted me off my feet as the rope came up between my butt cheeks and she strained to stretch it into position to be locked at the back of the belt. My clit throbbed at the pressure. My anus surrounded the hardness and longed to welcome it inside.

"All set," she said happily. "Isn't that nice?"

"A...a...bit tight," is all I could manage through clenched teeth.

"You silly," Gina and Susan both laughed heartily. 

"Susan," Gina said as we walked back to the living room, "You must help me convince Peter to let Liza go to the party. She just has to go with us!"



Liza's New Life Ch. 05



I was alone for the first time in nearly as long as memory would stretch. My new friends, or handlers, or tormentors, one might more aptly call them, were loading the truck with things to take to the party. I was of no use in that regard: my hands were useless, handcuffed behind my back, just as they'd been since just after I set foot on this crazy island.

I remembered my husband's voice: "Go sailing with the boys. You'll have fun." Yeah, famous last words, for sure. I couldn't help but blame him as I sat there bound, breasts bared, swollen nipples, with nothing on my naked body in this strange house but a belt around my waist. The belt served no other purpose than to secure the narrow band of leather that pressed down from its front into my pussy and around to make the wedgy of all wedgies until it fastened, locked, at the back. I shifted my weight to try to relieve the pressure on my clit, but in so doing it only pressed harder against my anus. 'Thank god for small favors,' I smiled to myself, marveling at my ability to keep a sense of humor in light of everything that had happened this day.

As I sat there, I thought about how I ended up naked on the boat, then again in the antique shop in Avalon. I tugged on my handcuffs as I remembered the feeling I had when I first felt the cold metal against my wrists, bent over the display case like a criminal, my bare bottom waving shamefully in the air. I must say, the policeman's first negative reaction to my public nudity sure did transform quickly into, well, whatever this is. 

My mind's eye then jumped to the very beginning of this strange saga that brought me to this island of chastity belt fetishists and body modification enthusiasts. I saw the excited face of my husband, Marc, as he undressed me last Sunday evening in front of those two eighteen-year-old boys, Sam and Jake. That was the opening of Pandora's box. As I sat at dinner with Sam, Jake and my husband, they dressed and I naked, I wondered if things would ever be the same again. As I basked in their adulation, I wondered if I wanted them to be. Carried away by something I still struggled to comprehend, I allowed myself to become trapped in the logic that having shown myself nude to Sam and Jake, I owed the same favor to someone else, then another. Marc and the boys convinced me that I had debts to pay, and my nudity was the currency. The debts always mounted quicker than I could settle them, and I made one promise after the other to placate them, until one morning Sam made the whole process easier by simply attaching that damned anklet. The inscription, "Anything, No limits, Anytime, I promise," sealed my fate. 

Now Sam and Jake have set sail for the mainland without me, and I have been entrusted to Peter, the officer who handcuffed me, his simpleton sister, Gina, who tortured me (God, I want to kill her), and their friends, Susan and Jess. They know all about the anklet and my allegiance to it; Sam told Peter about it just after my "arrest," then Marc called and had a long talk with Peter and Gina comparing their lives on Catalina with my scantily-clad adventures in Newport Beach. His emergency trip to New York meant he couldn't come get me. Marc's admonition on the phone, "Be good and keep your promises," rang in my ear. 'Yeah, he's off to New York on business and I sit here naked on Catalina Island,' I fumed to myself. 'Peter will no doubt be calling him, giving him a blow by blow account of my adventures, just as Sam always does,' I concluded. "I love to think of you naked with the boys and others, and it's exciting to hear about it," Marc confessed to me on Monday night. "Do you hate me for that?" he asked as he made that puppy-dog face that can make me do anything. So, I went sailing with the boys.

As I continued to squirm against the pressure of the belt, I remembered one painful humiliation after the other since we moved into our ocean-view apartment four days ago. I thought about how my landlord threatened to throw us out of our beautiful new home, because she caught me on the balcony in just a tiny towel, and how only my accepting a spanking prevented eviction. Of course, I only wore that towel to please Marc. 'So she spanks me, and then I do something else scantily clad for Marc, she finds out, and then she spanks me again,' I complained to myself. 'I can't tell Marc about her, she forbids it, nor can I tell her about Marc, whom I'm protecting. No, I have to accept all the consequences,' I reasoned. 'Well, at least my sojourn on Catalina has gotten me off that merry-go-round, for awhile, anyway,' I smiled happily to myself. I wondered what would happen, though, if I didn't make it back to the mainland for my session with her hairbrush in the morning. 'Will that finally be the end? Will she kick us out of the apartment? Or will she just spank me even more? Oh, God!' I cringed.

So, I sat there and asked myself question after question until I came to the biggest one of all, the heart of the matter: do I love Marc enough to go through what I go through for him? Only a positive answer would bolster my courage to keep my promises both to him and the medallion hanging around my ankle. I wondered if other women suffer for their men as I do...

"Alright, we got it all figured out," Susan beamed as she breezed into the room, her long nipples making her t-shirt project from her torso like twin peaks. Peter, Jess and Gina followed. "We have a plan to get you to the party, in your handcuffs, with no one ever thinking to question why. Peter's little foible with the lost key will never come up - his reputation on the force is safe." She punched Peter playfully on the shoulder.

"It was my idea, too!" interjected Gina. "I'm the one who said I wished it was me in fetters, not her." She pointed at me and in so doing raised the hem of her short summer shift to her crotch. I glimpsed the portion of her chastity belt that appeared from between the bottom of her pussy lips then disappeared up her butt crack. It dripped with moisture.

"Well, I still think it's a bit far-fetched," Peter shook his head, "but if you want to try, okay by me. At least Marc thinks it will be fun."

"You talked to Marc?" I lit up.

"Yeah, he called to check on you one more time before he had to turn off his cell. He's just taking off for New York."

"What did you tell him?"

"Well, that you're doing just fine, of course. He was happy to hear that you're adjusting to the belt, and he liked Jess' suggestion that we get you custom fitted tomorrow. After all, you can't wear Gina's hand-me-downs forever."

"He talked to Jess, too?" I stammered as I looked at Jess with bug eyes. "I've known you, Jess, for twenty minutes and already you're talking on the phone with my husband?" I gave Jess a puzzled look.

"Everybody had a turn. Susan say's he's got a sexy voice." Jess looked teasingly at her.

"I wanted to talk to him..." The words choked from my throat.

"There just wasn't time after I got through answering all his questions and describing everything to him. He sure does like a lot of details!"

"Yes, I know..." My voice trailed off. "He likes to hear all about it..."

"He wanted to know if your nipples were still stretched longer than before, but I had to tell him we had a lot more work to do before that happens, huh?" It was Gina who responded and she looked to Peter to agree with her.

"Well, your session this afternoon was a jumpstart on that process, that's for sure."

Just hearing them talk about it brought back the pain in my nipples. I jumped at the memory of what that simple child did to me, hanging me on that pole, attaching clamps and weights to my nipples and clitoris. I shivered visibly and tested my bonds, just in case I could at last free myself to wring her pretty little neck.

"How much weight did you use, Gina?" Jess asked with the same matter-of-factness one might use about the amount of salt in the soup.

"The same Peter uses on me, the very same." She replied in her defense.

"It was her first time, though, remember, so it was too much," Peter said.

Susan sat beside me on the couch, took my right breast in her hand and examined my nipple. She rolled the nipple gently with the other hand, then pulled. I winced, then she pulled a little harder. When I yelped, she released her grip. "Well, no damage was done," she pronounced with gravity, like a doctor examining a wound. "Mine are often in worse shape when Jess gets done. He has his program, you know."

"Hey, it's not my fault," Jess laughed. "You're the one who wants to win 'most improved,' tonight. That's why we've been on this accelerated schedule the last few months."

"How many centimeters more than last reunion?" Peter asked.

"I'm hoping for one below. Maybe nearly as much up top," Jess replied.

"Good going, Susan!" Gina exclaimed. That's a lot in a short time! Let me see!"

Susan raised her t-shirt above her breasts as everyone gathered around. I could not believe my eyes. Her nipples were the longest I'd ever seen. They were so long that they drooped downward when they first appeared, but in the fresh air and with four sets of eyes trained their way, they quickly rose to stick straight forward, stretching to an incredible length. 

"Beautiful," Peter whistled.

"Do you think she's got a chance?" Jess asked.

"Are they as long as mine, Peter?" Gina couldn't help but be jealous.

"We'll know for sure at the party," he dodged the questions with the aplomb of a politician.

"You see, Liza," Gina turned to me. "That's what nipples are supposed to look like! Not those stubbly little things you've got!"

"Don't be rude, Gina!" Peter admonished his little sister. "And besides," he added in a gentle tone, "Liza has wonderfully developed nipples, for a mainlander. You just have to give her some time."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Liza," Gina sat down beside me and threw her arms around me. I didn't mean anything. I just meant..."

"Yes, I know," I helped out the little bitch, "You're just sorry I was neglected as a child."

"Yes, that's it!" She rejoiced. "And you'll never be neglected again!"

I rolled my eyes and hoped against hope that I would be delivered from this island of insanity sooner than later. I wondered how long I could continue this air of civility toward this stupid little moron who hurt me so. In my vulnerable, manacled condition, I surely didn't want to offend her, or anyone else for that matter.

"We'll get Liza officially measured tonight so she can win a prize next time, okay?" Gina was enthusiastic about her idea. "She will win most improved next time, for sure. We'll help her, won't we, Peter?"

"Yes, of course. Great idea," he nodded and smiled.

"Come on," Susan said to Gina, "Let's get ready for the party!"

The brilliant idea to get me into the party in my handcuffs was, in the words of Susan, "to hide me like a tree in the forest." What she meant by that was that she and Gina would also don cuffs for the party, and they planned to call several friends who would surely go along with the gag. They planned to show up at the party in a group under the banner, "Bound to Be Served." Each cuffed woman would get special attention from her helper who would wait on her hand and foot, never leave her side, and see to every whim. Actually, only the longed-for slavish attentiveness of the helpers constituted a bit of a stretch from normal life in this group where every intimate act of every female was already carefully monitored, regulated, serviced, and openly discussed. After all, no woman from the age of puberty went without the belt, which meant a "helper" was needed for each bathroom activity. Clitoral and nipple stretching, the favorite island sport, also required the participation of a helper.

Susan and Gina took me upstairs to "dress" me according to some ideas they got from Marc, my ever helpful, if absent, husband. Since they had the belt around my waist to work with, they took scarves and tied them to the belt, dangling. It took about a dozen to leave only minor gaps around my waist. Together they formed a grass-skirt effect that hit me about mid thigh. Of course, as you can imagine, they separated and flew every which way at my slightest movement or will of the wind. The girls had me parade around the room to find what they called, "just the right Marc effect." Apparently, Marc wanted my pussy to flash periodically, so gaps had to be created, moved, and eliminated around the belt in order to comply. I marveled at how simple it was for Marc to find people eager to play his game, to treat me like a doll to be dressed, undressed, examined, humiliated, and yes, pampered, fussed over and indulged. 

For the top, Gina had a tube top that fit me very snuggly. I complained about how it pressed, flattened and constricted, but they just giggled as if they had a secret. They knew that the second step was to take a pair of scissors from the drawer and cut the elastic at the bottom. The tube top then hung from the upper elastic like a short drape, extending out and over my liberated breasts, but not being long enough to fall very far beyond and below my hard nipples. My breasts were bared from below.

The parade around the room recommenced. They had me bend and twist and even jump. Gina giggled each time my breasts were bared completely, which was often.

"Do you think Marc would like your outfit?" Gina asked me excitedly.

"I'm sure he would," I assured her.

"Is it like they wear on the mainland?"

"Well, nothing this clever, certainly. After all," I reminded her, "you just made this." I chocked back my desire to tell her just how absurd it was.

"Oh, yeah..." The light went off in the simpleton's brain.

"Okay, now, Gina," Susan said. "It's nearly time to go. Let's get you dressed next."

"Come on!" Gina screeched and jumped. 

They rushed out leaving me standing there, but returned just as quickly. Gina had been transformed in the twinkling of an eye from the little nonsensical nuisance that she was into a woman of extraordinary, raw beauty. 'It's remarkable what a dress can do,' I remember thinking, then wondering to myself why so many people insist on seeing me naked if that's the case.

Her dress was of the finest lace, a pale pink. The shoulders were bear, the breasts covered by just the slightest wisp, as if just touched by gossamer. The material gathered tightly around the hips, not the waist, then floated gently with an uneven hem to her knees. Her feet were left bear to give her a look of primitive, island beauty. 

"Do you think Marc would like this?" Gina asked as she posed from across the room. 

"It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen," I admitted truthfully. "Whoever wouldn't like it has no taste," I smiled.

When she walked up to me I saw something remarkable: the material of her dress was held out from her breasts the very long length of her Susan-like nipples. Everyone would be able to see her bare breasts from above. My jaw dropped. I suddenly didn't feel underdressed.

"Now for the pièce de resistance," Susan announced as she held forth a pair of handcuffs. 

Gina squealed with delight as she put her hands behind her back. She cooed happily as the locks snapped into place. 

"I'll have to ask Peter if he has any idea where the keys to these things are," she joked. Even I had to chuckle softly at that.

"How about you, Susan?" Gina gushed.

"No, not yet. I have to go with Jess in the truck to help drop things off at John's, then go home to dress. Jess and I will meet you three there. Don't worry, Gina, I'll have them on the next time you see me!" Susan consoled the now pouting, beautiful butterfly that stood before us.

The party was at John Long's place, the proprietor of the antique shop who started my island nightmare. It was he who insisted I return Sam his shirt under the "no shirt, no service" rule of the store, which of course didn't apply to me - clothing requirements rarely do. That left me with nothing to wear, so I was running around the shop naked when Peter, who had come in to consider a purchase and talk about the party, caught me.

It was a large home in the hills above Avalon, with a winding, dusty trail up to it. The walk wasn't easy, especially with our hands fastened in back, but it would have been worse in the heels I started out the day in. I understood now why Gina didn't have on a fancy pair of shoes to go with her dress. Peter followed us up the trail, probably to keep a constant eye on my ever appearing and disappearing rear end from behind the scarves. 'He's probably rehearsing how he'll describe it to Marc,' I though to myself. 

When we arrived at the front door, I was again awed by the opulent good taste of these island denizens. The home was completely private, isolated from everything, yet still enjoyed a beautiful view of the bay and the surrounding hills. It was a rambling, single story that fit into the hillside and the ravine like it belonged. Outdoor areas surrounded three sides of the structure, with the largest to one side, where tables, chairs, decorations suggesting a Hawaiian theme, and even several small stages were set up. The space was already filled with people milling about, greeting one another like old friends. True to John's promise, the scent of several roasting pigs wafted over the area.

It was John and his wife who greeted us as we came upon the scene. He started chuckling as soon as he saw Gina and me. He made a few quips to Peter that were meant to both tease and assure that his secret about the lost key was safe with him.

"Amy, I want to introduce you to the famous Liza!" He introduced me to his wife.

"Oh, so you're Liza! I'm so glad to meet you. And call me Dort, just like everybody else around here. 'Amy' is for downtown."

Dort was in her forties, like her husband. She was dressed casually, not as fancy as Gina, or several of the other, younger guests. She was a striking beauty in her long cotton skirt and simple white top. She could have been the host at any garden party I know, but I had every suspicion that things at this party were going to be very different.

My expectations were realized at that same moment. A woman in her mid to late twenties, about my age, rushed up to us, her chest jutting forward awkwardly, her hands tied behind her. A man of the same age followed.

"Gina! You're here. Finally! Bobbi and I were beginning to think you and Susan were playing a joke on us. This must be Liza! Hi." Lori pushed her cheek against mine for a quick peck of greeting, as they do in Europe, I suppose, but perhaps that was all she could think to do without a hand to shake. She was dressed in a gown similar to Gina's, but in lavender. I couldn't help but notice that her breasts, too, were bared from above by the long nipples holding the light fabric away from her small torso.

"Hi," I replied monosyllabically, unsure how to act in this new environment. 

"This is Dave, my helper, and this is Bruce, his little brother. Isn't he adorable?" She exuded charm. "He's been assigned to you, Liza."

Indeed, just coming up from behind, out of the group of people behind Lori, was a baby-faced redhead, certainly not more than eighteen or nineteen. His blue jeans and faded, tie-dyed t-shirt hung on him like they belonged to an older sibling.

"But I..." Peter began.

"No," John cut him off, "Amy decided to do it like this."

Peter held his peace, nodded with a marked subservience to Dort, then just turned and melted into the crowd.

"Come dear, let's have a talk." Dort took me by the elbow and ushered me into the house, away from the crowd. Bruce followed several steps behind.

She brought us to a solarium on the other side of the huge living room. It seemed to be an exercise room of sorts, with vinyl-covered benches, poles like the one Gina attached me to, and other devices I couldn't identify. She sat down on one of the benches and maneuvered me in front of her. She held me by the hips and looked up into my face.




Liza's New Life Ch. 05



"How are you getting along with Peter and Gina, dear?" she asked in a caring, motherly fashion. Her voice triggered the memory of a similar voice, though, that of my landlord, Ms Thomas, who sat in front of me in exactly the same manner, spoke to me in exactly the same sweet voice, then proceeded to spank me. I hoped the outcome would be different here.

"Umm..." I muttered and shrugged my shoulders, having no idea at all how to respond."

"This is all quite new to you, isn't it dear?"

I just nodded my head and lowered my eyes to the floor, childlike, avoiding her gaze.

"Bruce, unfasten her belt in back, please."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.

You'd think nothing would shock me anymore, but I couldn't help but feel that old, recurring knot in my stomach when I realized I was going to be undressed. I was glad I couldn't see Bruce, and hoped that I could put him out of my mind as well as sight, but it was to no avail. The more I remembered his young face, the more embarrassed I became. My cheeks turned bright red, my breathing quickened.

The belt was designed so that when the lock in the back of the belt is released, the front may also be undone, and removed entirely if desired. Of course, with the belt's removal, the attached scarves were removed along with it, so I found myself suddenly standing bottomless in front of Dort's upturned face. She peered into my vagina, never releasing her grip on my hips. She obviously didn't see what she was looking for, so she turned to Bruce behind me to say, "Show me her clitoris, please."

I was dumbstruck by that. For a moment, I thought maybe he had it, and I wondered how he got it. Before I could think through my own stupidity, I saw the top of Bruce's red head crouched in front of me, but to the side, so as not to come between me and Dort. I next felt his fingers groping at the top of my vagina, digging for my button. My body tried to recoil at the hips, but Dort held me and shook me slightly to remind me to stand still. 'Oh, god,' I thought to myself, 'will the list of people not bound by Marc's "no touching" rule ever stop growing?'

"It's hard to hold onto," Bruce complained as I felt his thumb and forefinger encircle it. 

"Open her up, there, so I can see."

I felt Bruce's other fingers spread my lips and I felt Dort's breath on me.

"Hmm, yes. A novice for sure," she muttered to herself, then with force brought out, "Lift her top!"

Bruce was quick to obey, so there I was, standing bottomless in front of this woman I met only minutes ago, with a young boy holding my top up to bare my breasts. As short as they were considered to be in this bizarre island culture, my nipples stood straight and ached from engorgement.

"Your nipples are not novice, though, dear. You've had some stretching there."

I didn't know whether I was to respond or not. She seemed to be talking to herself more than to me.

"What weight level are you, dear?" She looked directly into my face.

"These are natural," I stammered, then added, "Gina used her weights on me for the first time, today. I passed out from the pain."

"Go get Peter and Gina, right now," she barked at Bruce. "And my husband, too. I want the entire cabal here."

Bruce ran off, letting my top settle back over my nipples. The material bounced against them. I stood petrified, wondering what was going to happen next. That Dort would release my hips, pick up the belt that Bruce had left beside her on the bench and begin to smell it, never would have been among my guesses. She began slowly, sniffing deeply and carefully the leather strap that had been pressing against my pussy and anus for several hours. She seemed to know what she was doing. She was like a dog, looking for a certain scent. 

"When was your last period, Liza?"

"A week ago," I answered mechanically, as if responding to my physician during a physical. I then rolled my eyes and shook my head trying to get a grip on where I was and what was happening.

"Hmm, yes..."

She spent a lot of time sniffing and resniffing the part of the leather that had hugged my anus.

"How often do you have anal sex," she asked pointedly.

Now I really didn't know what to do, how to answer. I decided to just say it plainly, in as few words as possible. 

"I like to have things up there, but I've never made love in that fashion."

"Hmmm, what kinds of things?"

"I've tried a few kitchen utensil handles is all," I suddenly tried to minimize and trivialize the whole affaire, suddenly afraid that that may not be acceptable behavior in this "culture."

"Dort," Bruce burst into the room, "I found John and he is looking for Peter and Gina. He'll bring them."

"Bruce, sweetheart," she said, "Bring a 'Loren' in a size, oh, eight, I suppose. And some lubricant," she added as he went quickly to a chest of drawers against the wall.

He was back in a jiffy, but I couldn't see what he had, because he stood behind me.

"Well, dress her, dear," she said as if she suddenly found it tiresome to give orders. "Now, stand with your legs further apart," she said to me, "and relax."

The next thing I felt made me jump. It was the touch to my anus, of course, and also the coolness of the lubricant. My eyes bugged out as my rosebud pressed against the ministrations of young Bruce. His finger and the cool slime touched every part of my opening, then slid inside. I felt the first knuckle, then the second, pass my sphincter. The tip of his finger made circles inside me. I closed my eyes and tried to visualize the movement. I wanted desperately to finger my tiny, aching clit and my shackled wrists pulled against their bonds.

"Stand still, dear," I heard Dort admonish me.

Bruce removed his finger, but it was quickly followed by a hardness I recognized at once as a dildo. The narrow head slipped into me with ease, then I felt my rosebud open wider and wider to accept the ever widening tool. I wanted it desperately, yet I found myself standing on tiptoe, as if to avoid penetration. 

"Settle down, Liza," Dort whispered softly.

I let my weight descend on the length of the shaft as my heels touched ground. A final push from behind by Bruce, which nearly sent me tumbling into Dort, embedded the welcome rubber as far as it would go. My anus closed around a narrowing at the base, then Bruce quickly reattached the belt I came with. I heard the snap of the lock in back and again felt the pressure of the leather against my clit as it invaded my pussy. Dort tested the taughtness of the leather against the dildo.

"How does that feel? Are you comfortable, dear?" she asked in that sweet voice.

I couldn't find my voice. My eyelids were fluttering, every muscle in my body was in spasm. My knees gave out and I collapsed in front of Dort, who held my head, as I felt wave after wave or orgasm rock my body.

Dort sensed the arrival of the last wave, then gently lowered my head to rest in her lap. There I was, on my knees, hands manacled behind me, the scent of my sex hanging in the air, and my head in the lap of my hostess, when Peter, John and Gina entered the room. Dort stroked my hair lovingly as the three formed a semicircle in front of her, behind me. 

"Gina, darling, come here, closer." I felt Dort's sweet voice resonate from her lower abdomen through the top of my head. 

Gina stepped up beside me. My head was turned so I could see her from the waist down. 

"John, undress the child."

I heard a shuffle of feet and saw Peter's shoes next to Gina's bare feet.

"No, Peter, I know you are Gina's helper, but I want John to do this part."

I heard more movement, then saw Gina's beautiful dress fall to her feet. The familiar sound of the lock of a belt warned me that the belt would be extracted next, and it was. She stood still and straight, no one said a word or breathed a sound; they must have been waiting for what happened next. With a "pop," her enlarged clitoris sprang from between her labia. Having caught a quick glimpse of Susan earlier, I should have been prepared for this, but I wasn't. I heard myself gasp, loudly. Her clit was about an inch and a half long, as wide as my thumb, and it stood erect, extending from her vagina like a small penis. 

"Gina," Dort began softly, "did you understand that you were hurting Liza during maintenance, today."

"But it was okay, she needed it! Peter said I had to take care of her."

"Did she ask you to stop?"

"Well, yes, but...."

"What did you think when she passed out, Gina?"

"I don't know." Gina's weight shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

"Gina, I'm going to have Peter administer ten strokes. Do you understand why?"

"No, ma'am," I heard Gina's voice crack.

"Because, as your helper, you are responsible for him. Your hurting Liza was his mistake, and there are consequences for that. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am... It was his fault, all his fault."

I heard more movement, then Peter appeared on the other side of Gina, facing me, with a small switch in his hand. In the next instant I saw the switch descend her torso to strike the outstretched clitoris. Her body bent forward at the hips and she cried out. Her feet remained in position, though, with her legs still straight. Despite the awkwardness of having her hands clasped behind her, she hadn't lost her balance. Except for Gina's heavy breathing, not a sound was heard. After about ten seconds, I watched her body rise, and as it did, her clit stood as straight as ever. Immediately the switch descended again the length of her body to hit the small penis-like appendage. Gina was ready for it this time, and her hips remained locked. She did not bend at the waist, but her cry was loud. I blinked and I stared, but I could no longer see her clitoris. It had been driven back down between her labia, where it normally resides under the pressure of the belt. No one moved. No one said a word. Expectancy hung in the air.

With a "pop" like the first, it was suddenly back outside, standing, pointing. I didn't even see the switch strike this time, I just heard the snap of wood against flesh and the wail of my former tormentor. Gina's body didn't move an inch, though. The angle of the blow must have been different, because her clit wasn't driven within her this time. It sprang back immediately into place and just as quickly the next blow struck.

This one had an effect like none before: Gina fell to her knees. Her upper torso came into my view for the first time. I saw her puffed, reddened cheeks, dripping with tears. Her beautifully cared for hair was matted to her scalp with sweat. As Dort softly stroked my hair and face, keeping my head immobile in her lap, I watched Gina struggle once more to her feet, resume her position, and wait for the next blow.

When it came, Gina cried out louder than ever, but did not fall. The clitoris did, however. The starch had run out of it; it lay like a worm against the top of her pussy. Gina sobbed. Her body trembled.

The next blow was across the top of her vagina and a welt rose immediately on each side of the bruised and torn clitoris. Gina caught herself from falling backward from the blow by stepping back with one foot. She moved it quickly back into position, though, as she cried without reserve. 

Peter aimed the next strike from below, catching the tip of the worm and forcing it up to hit against her pubic bone. Gina's legs began to spasm, but she remained in position.

The next blow was just like the one before it, but this time the switch hit her labia below the clit before continuing its merciless journey up to its target. Gina stepped back to regain her balance, then doubled over from the pain. 

What I saw next will always be burned into my memory. I hadn't known Peter long, but I never would have believed he was capable of such cruelty. As Gina sobbed and wailed, bent at the waist, Peter brought a devastating blow down across her buttocks. The blow straightened her out like an arrow, then he quickly brought another blow to her vagina, perhaps striking her worm, perhaps not, I don't know. It was all happening so fast, now. Gina began to fall backward, then another blow to the vagina sent her to the floor. Her butt hit first, then she sprawled out on her back. She rolled on her side, curled into a fetal position and sobbed, gasping for breath.

Peter must have received some sort of signal from Dort that I couldn't see. He went to Gina, picked her up, and carried her out. Peter followed.

"Bruce," Dort said, "pick up Gina's pretty dress and put it on Liza. We've been away from our guests far too long."

I stood up tentatively, letting the dildo explore within me as I moved. Bruce had me step into the garment, then brought it up the length of my body. It was just as light as it looked, clinging to my skin without need of any stays, buttons or clasps to hold it up. I looked down at myself and couldn't believe how wonderful it looked. I couldn't help but smile to myself and marvel at how quickly one's fortune can change. I'd been wanting something up my butt since I left the boat, and now I had it. I'd wanted to have something to wear, and now I had the most beautiful dress I'd ever seen. I wanted vengeance on Gina, and she had been dealt with more cruelly than I could ever have imagined. I had felt abandoned by Marc, but now I had Dort to protect me and Bruce to pamper me.

Dort led me slowly back to the party where she left me with Susan, Lori and her friend Bobbi, Sara, Jane, and several others. All had their hands bound behind them, and a banner reading "Bound to be Served" was fixed to a nearby tree. As other women would walk up to the group, Susan or one of the others would explain the movement and invite her to join. A pile of handcuffs, ropes, and even plastic ties filled a nearby chair. Each new recruit was bound by a helper, then brought to me and introduced. I was presented to each as the founding member, the philosopher-savant of the new group. I picked up the sense of things as I listened to others, and began to extol the virtues of complete dependence on one's helper.

"They're good for more than just maintenance and taking you to the bathroom, you know," I preached. "This is what they are destined to do - see to our every need. It's time they become the complete servants we deserve," I said with conviction.

Every woman within the sound of my voice offered her wrists to be bound: some just for the novelty of it, others to mimic the behavior of their friends, still others saw an opportunity to keep their helpers close, and some because it dawned on them that this was the logical conclusion to a lifestyle they had been born to. As the group grew, the more ardent supporters crowded around me, sat at my feet, and waited to listen to whatever I could think to say next. I heard others talking about me: one woman described me to another as the "sage" who just arrived from the mainland to launch a new era. There was a constant movement within the group as helpers fetched whatever their charges wanted, fed the women bite by bite, offered them their drinks, even scratched their noses when they itched. After a while, our group included over half the women at the party, and as they drifted in and out we lost track of them. They just blended into the festivities, went about party business, with hands bound behind them and helpers in tow.

My newfound stardom left me little time to be aware of what else was going on at the party, but from bits and pieces I was able to ascertain that the main attraction was the competition. The women who were competing in various categories (I didn't catch many except "most improved," which I already knew about, "best shape," and "longest," which apparently was won by the same woman every year) stood like statues on the small stages, or pedestals, that were scattered about. Their helpers stood at their sides with their belts draped over their forearms as a waiter might pose with a napkin. Party goers stopped to ask questions concerning maintenance and other pertinent items. Each "statue" wore a dress like mine, which people were free to lift in order to inspect whichever part of the competitor's anatomy was of interest. Official judges came by for measurements and to interview the contestants. I guessed that apparently Gina had been intended to compete in one category or the other.

I was drinking imported beer, munching salty snacks, and feasting on roasted pig as I talked with my new friends. Bruce, whose attentiveness had always been good, based no doubt on his loyalty to Dort, became increasingly servile as my reputation spread and my fame grew. I noticed, too, that he began to enjoy a certain deference for himself among the other helpers. Evidently he had begun the evening as the youngster, but now was helper to the "sage."

Susan never betrayed the fact that the idea for the group was her idea or that it was just a big scam to get me and my handcuffs into the party without attracting attention to Peter. She was having fun as it was, being my second lieutenant, and helping me with the many inconsistencies that arose in my discourse, my agenda. She reconciled my developing dogma with what she knew would be acceptable in this culture. When the competition took her and Jess away for about an hour, her friend Bobbi took over. Bobbi got into the role of promoting me so much that I began to believe she was ready to form a new religion.

"When Susan called me before the party and told me to wear handcuffs for Liza of the mainland, I didn't realize we were about to launch a new era," she stood and preached to those who could hear. "When our foremothers settled here generations ago, they created a special place where, openly and without intolerance, they could be stretched and pampered by their men and their daughters' purity would be forever safeguarded. Now we are called upon to perfect their work, stretch our horizons and take the final step, tethered, into paradise." 

I guess the most extraordinary thing to me about the response to her speech was how it was punctuated by polite applause from the helpers and shouts of "yes" and "right on, sister!" from the bound women.

After a couple hours, the beer had its effect and I had to ask Bruce to take me to the bathroom. There was a line of about five women, each cuffed and being held at the elbow by her helper. When they saw me, I was ushered with great respect to the head of the line. Bruce and I entered the large, marble filled room almost immediately. As soon as the door closed, Bruce quickly removed my dress and unlocked the belt. He took it off completely and placed it on a small table that looked like it was made for that purpose. I stood naked in front of him, again. I tried not to blush, or feel awkward, but I couldn't help it.

"We should remove Leon before you pee," he said.

"Why?"

"You might accidentally expel it into the bowl. And, anyway, you've probably worn it long enough. It's not usually worn more than a couple hours at a time."

"It feels just fine. I'll keep it in. I'll show you how."

I liked the look on his face when he realized he had lost control of the situation. It felt good to be in charge and it made me bold. I instructed him to kneel in front of the bowl, and then standing, I straddled it facing him, just as Ally taught me to do it. I bent forward slightly and instructed him to spread my labia as much as he could with one hand while reaching around me to hold Leon in place with the other. I relaxed and the stream began. I watched his big, blue eyes against the background of his young, freckled face. His expression told me he had never seen anything like this, not ever. I liked being the teacher for a change.

When I finished, Bruce wiped me and then gently explored the depths of my pussy, as if it were part of the routine.

"It looks like Leon is doing his job, but if you'd like, I could do an 'after pee,' just to be sure."




Liza's New Life Ch. 05



"What's that?" I asked in a suspicious tone, still coming to terms with the way he had just fingered me.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm well trained," he said earnestly. "I've been helping my older sister since I was eleven, and I was assigned to two, sometimes three girls in my class at school: not enough boys to go around most years..."

His voice faded into my subconscious as my thoughts raced to what school on the island must be like for the pubescent, belted girls being intimately tended to by their male classmates. I saw my seventh-grade boyfriend, Andrew, and imagined his taking me to the toilet at the Jefferson Middle School, and pictured how he would remove my belt, watch me do my business, wipe me clean, then massage my clit until I was wet enough to accept the leather which he would pull into my pussy and against my anus. I blushed, humiliated by the scene. I also wondered where the guarantee of chastity was in all that...

"So, do you?" Bruce's loud voice brought me back.

"What?" I stammered

"The clitoral stimulation, to keep the leather moist, like I've been saying."

"No," I finally answered as the contradictions of island life jostled in my mind, striving for resolution. "Like you say, Leon is doing his job. I'm keeping plenty moist."

As Bruce affixed the belt, drawing it tighter and tighter against my clit and pushing Leon even deeper than before, something came over me and I felt strangely, suddenly, at peace: it was a deep, contented sense of security and belonging. The humiliation of my middle school vision vanished. Island culture became normal, natural. Bruce and the harness seemed like ordinary, necessary accessories, not unlike a purse, or a string of pearls. 'No woman ever has enough accessories!' I thought to myself.

When we came out of the bathroom, Dort was waiting.

"Come, walk with me," she said as she draped her arm around my shoulders and held me close. Bruce followed at three paces, as usual. She spoke just above a whisper into my ear. "You have made my evening much more busy than I had planned, young lady."

I turned and looked into her face, looking for trouble. Her smile reassured me.

"I've been approached by several concerned husbands about this 'Bound to be Served' thing. When Susan first asked me, I thought it would be fun, add a little spice to the party... I didn't foresee any harm. I didn't even object to Peter's wanting to hide something from me, although I can't for the life of me think he was really concerned about city property, or that I would be upset over a lost key. My goodness, what doesn't go through some people's minds!"

"Maybe we were all just caught up in something," I blurted out, wishing immediately I had held my tongue.

"And what would that be, dear?"

"Oh, I don't know exactly," my mind was racing, trying to find a way to get out of this conversation. "Have you ever felt like Alice in Wonderland, just pulled along by events and curious to see where they will lead?"

"I suppose, so. I guess not even the mayor can be in charge of everything, all the time, though it seems I must."

The words "mayor" and "I" hit me like a thunderbolt, and I remembered how "downtown" had been used earlier. Suddenly everything made sense about the last two hours and I finally understood the incredible power Dort had.

"Are we walking too fast for you, dear?" She slowed the pace.

"I'm alright. 'Leon' is behaving, making me feel really good. Do a lot of women wear Leon?" I asked.

"It is popular. Most prefer the 'Glen' model, though. He fills the other hole. Then there's the 'Alex II,' which is a combination, but I've always found it difficult to walk, or even think, with him inside. My personal favorite for everyday wear is 'The Twins.' They keep the leather saturated, and I suppose having a set makes my job easier," she giggled at her own private joke.

"What's that?"

"A pair of brass, ben-wa balls!"

I laughed. "Are you wearing them now?" I asked, amazed at my brazen familiarity. 

"Yes, of course," her tone was that used to answer a stupid question, "and I'm going to need them to solve the crisis that is brewing, my dear."

I fell silent, waiting for the next thunder clap.

"It has fallen to me to crucify the new messiah."

My jaw fell open and I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Oh, don't worry, I don't mean it literally."

I resumed walking as she tugged gently at my shoulders, which were still encircled by her arm.

"The first thing we are going to do is cut off your bracelets." She nodded in the direction of a tool shed at the edge of the property. "Once they see you have abandoned the cause, that should be the end of it, huh?"

"Good idea," I said in a tone as subdued as I could muster as every fiber of my being was jumping for joy. "I'll do whatever you say, of course."

"Of course, dear" she repeated in a bemused tone.

She instructed Bruce to run ahead and find the biggest garden shears he could find. He found a huge pair which did the job easily, cutting through the aluminum quickly. When I felt the metal fall to the ground, I let out a sigh and a grateful moan. I brought my hands in front of me and began to rub my wrists.

"No, dear, no!"

I stopped, frozen like a deer in headlights.

"A lady never touches herself, not for any reason. That's why we have helpers, dear."

My eyes became large as this new piece of the cultural puzzle fell into place in my brain. Bruce immediately started rubbing one of my wrists, then the other. I rotated my shoulders as he worked, trying to get out some of the soreness from having been pinned backward for so long.

"Alright, you go and join your new friends, Liza. I have to talk to a few people, but I'll keep an eye on you, dear."

I swung my arms freely as I walked. I was still somewhat aware of Leon's turns and twists deep within my bowels, but mostly I enjoyed this new sensation of freedom. My gait was as light as a feather, my joy soared. I suddenly felt capable of anything. I turned around and around, letting my arms swing widely from my body, like Maria in the opening scene of "The Sound of Music." I felt the hem of my skirt lift like wings to carry me. I raised my arms above my head and stretched on tip toes for the sky. I was more alive that I have ever been.

I headed for the "Bound to Serve" tree to make my appearance as the false, fallen prophet. When they saw me coming, Bobbi rushed to greet me, mouth agape.

"Unlike Prometheus, I've been unchained," I said wryly, seeing right away she had no idea who Prometheus was.

"We've got plenty of rope left. Come on..."

"No," I said. "Dort says this has gone far enough."

"What? No! You can't just do what she says. She doesn't know everything. This is what We want! Right girls?"

The "hurrahs" of the girls and the clapping of the helpers, louder than ever, was proof that this genie wasn't going to be easily stuffed back into the bottle.

"That will be enough, Bobbi!" I heard Dort's firm voice behind me.

The next thing I knew, Dort grabbed me by the arm and dragged me quickly to the first unoccupied pedestal. A line of manacled women followed. She pushed me up onto the two-foot high ministage and told me to stand straight and still, to not say a word. A nod to Bruce was all it took for him to lift the back of my dress, unlock my belt and remove it. I pressed my buttocks together tightly to keep Leon in place. As Bruce assumed his waiter-like pose beside me at the base of the pedestal, Dort lifted my skirt in front.

"Come look at This, ladies!" she shouted, making the word 'this' resound disgustingly. "This is the clitoris of a twelve-year-old. Could 'This' (again with mocking stress on the word) be the embodiment of a new word, a new voice amongst us? Come have a close look. All of you, come see."

Indeed, one by one, just about everyone at the party lined up to take a turn peering into my vagina. Each person would look at me, meet Dort's disapproving gaze, lower his or her eyes, then sulk away. Handcuffs and ropes were discarded left and right. No one could believe in my tiny button. No one would openly defy Dort.

When the line was exhausted and the area around my pedestal became something to avoid, Dort turned to Bruce. "Keep her here," she ordered. "Neither of you move a muscle until I say so."

"Yes, ma'am," he said quietly, afraid to disturb the deathly silence that hung over us.

The party lasted a couple more hours. I stood at attention the whole time, afraid to move, waxing nostalgic about the few minutes of freedom I had had. I buoyed my spirits by reliving in my mind the sensations I had felt when I swung my arms and danced. After about a half hour, a solitary soul of immense bravery and curiosity furtively made her way to my pedestal, hesitatingly raised the front of my skirt, then rushed away quickly. A few minutes later she returned with her helper. She again raised my dress front and pointed at my vagina, giggling as she did. Her helper laughed at the freak, too, then they scurried away. A tear rolled down my cheek. 

After that, more couples came to have another look. Once in awhile, a helper would spread my labia to look for the unstretched button. "How could she feel anything at all with that?" a man in his thirties commented. "Disgraceful," a young brunette with big, almond eyes shook her head, "She probably doesn't even like sex." Another snapped, "They circumcise women in Africa, and this kind of neglect is just as bad, if you ask me!" I dripped at their touch and felt Leon move. I couldn't help but be affected by the ridicule: the knot in my stomach twisted and my nipples ached to be pinched. I longed for Marc to come and take me right there on stage. I wanted him deep in my humiliated pussy. I wanted to have mad, violent sex, throwing my body every which way. I wanted to show them what I could do despite my "handicap!" I, also, little by little, found myself wishing I looked like every other woman at the party. I began to fantasize about having my own penis-like clit that would pop from under my belt. I wondered what that would feel like. I wondered when the statue would become flesh and blood once again.

After what seemed a century since I'd been hoisted into place, the lights in the yard went out. Startled, I jumped slightly, then regained my position, afraid I might be punished for violating my statuesque pose on the pedestal. My eyes adjusted to the light of the moon and the stars, and I saw Dort and John appear out of the darkness. 

"Bruce, go home," Dort commanded. "Your folks are leaving."

John held out his hand to me. I took it and jumped down. When my feet hit the ground, my knees buckled and I squatted involuntarily. Leon tumbled from my anus into the dark grass.

Early the next morning, John and Dort dressed me in my belt after inserting her fanciest ben-wa balls as a gift. Dort whispered a short series of numbers to me as John clasped the belt behind me, explaining that my helper on the mainland would need the combination. A short summer frock covered my nakedness, but as all summer frocks do, it allowed for easy viewing through the material in the bright sunshine. I don't think Dort thought about that when she picked it out for me, though, as accustomed as she was to underwear. John made sure all my buttons in front were secure, then we set off for the airport.

Once underway, and I was really sure I would be leaving, I risked being curious: "Have you talked to Peter? Have you heard how Gina's doing?"

"Gina is fine. Once the cuts heal and the swelling subsides, she'll have gained some length and be thankful for it."

"I couldn't help but take pleasure in her whipping," I admitted with a sigh.

"Peter never should have left you alone with her."

"So, you really do blame Peter, not Gina?"

"Of course, dear."

"But Gina was punished."

"Of course, dear. That's the way it is, not just here, but everywhere. Women always suffer for the faults of their men. Even poor, simple Gina understands and accepts that universal truth."

"Will that ever change?"

"Never."

"It's not fair," I muttered under my breath.

At the airport, John handed me my purse, the one I hadn't seen since the hubbub in his shop. "I found it under the counter after you left," he said. Dort kissed me good-bye and they put me on the seven o'clock flight. 

Viewed from eight-thousand feet, only a thin strip of Pacific, no wider than the leather that pressed at my clit, appeared to separate my island bondage from mainland promises. As the plane touched down in Orange County, the balls within me jumped and rolled, as if awakening to the demands of my new life. I walked from the airplane to the taxi, feeling my wetness trickle down my thighs. The Twins were doing their work, and my scent filled the air as I slid into the backseat. The driver watched me attentively in the rearview mirror as he drove, no doubt wondering and delighting at the sight and smell of this woman who sat with knees far apart. I marveled at how natural and comfortable Jake's nine-inch rule seemed, and how I was, without thinking, observing it for the first time, on my own, in the company of a stranger. When I knew his eyes were on me, I reached up and unbuttoned the top button of my dress, and a little while later, the next one. I envisioned Marc's happy face as I rehearsed the story I would tell of how I exposed myself to a cabbie. When he dropped me in front of my apartment building, he said the ride was free, his pleasure. Standing beside the taxi, I leaned through his window to give him a peck on the cheek, exposing my breasts to him fully. He drove off with a grin on his face and we both had a story to tell. Ally and Steve ran out to greet me.

"Oh, Liza!" Ally yelled as she hugged and kissed me. "We missed you so much! We were so worried, despite Marc's assurances and sexy bulletins." 

I just sighed contentedly, tears of joy welling in my eyes.

"Come inside," I said. "I have something to show you."

"Is it your belt? Marc told us about your belt!"

I felt the back of my dress lift.

"Oh, that's a beaut," Steve laughed.

"Don't be cute, or I won't give you the combination," I teased.

Ally leaned into my ear and whispered, "Steve's wearing my soiled panties," and I saw her hand go underneath her short skirt to her crotch; the hem bunched around her wrist as she rubbed.

The echo of Dort's voice reminded me that ladies never, ever touch themselves. I smiled to myself, wondering what Bruce was doing today. 

"Hurry up!" Her voice brought me back to the mainland. "We've only got a little while before your appointment with Ms Thomas!"

"Marc's fault..." I muttered under my breath.

"What was that, Liza? Something about Marc?" Steve asked.

"Oh, nothing," I replied, "just a universal truth..." 

"Marc would really like that smock," Ally remarked. "Maybe we should just undo some more of those buttons, though, huh?"

'God, it's great to be home among normal people,' I thought to myself.



Liza's New Life Ch. 06



Ally led the way up the single flight of exterior stairs to my apartment. Steve followed behind me, making sophomoric comments about my ass as he peered under my short summer frock. I marveled at how the attitude of my husband's coworker had changed toward me since Marc had me flash him in the bar. His demeanor seemed disrespectful and my mood darkened with each step, each puerile phrase.

Once inside, I threw myself onto the couch with a big, "Aw, that feels good!" I tossed my purse onto the coffee table, but it tumbled off the other side. I heard its contents empty onto the floor.

It was Ally who started picking things up. Steve's attention was divided between my legs, which were now stretched with my feet on the coffee table, my hem just barely covering my crotch, and one certain item rolling on the floor.

"What's that!" he teased as Ally held it up like a trophy. 

"That's Leon," I blushed. "He was my date last night," I laughed, deciding not to be embarrassed in front of these two, wondering at the same time how on earth that got in my purse.

"Wow, does Marc know he's been replaced by a butt plug?" He laughed.

"What happens in Catalina, stays in Catalina," I raised my eyebrow, trying to look mysterious. It dawned on me that John must have snuck it in there as a souvenir of the party.

"There's an envelope. Can I look inside?" Ally asked.

I shrugged my shoulders in an "okay," just wanting to relax and enjoy being at home on my own sofa in my own living room for a change.

"It's a note. Can I read it?" She sounded excited and started to read before I could even answer. "My Dear," Ally read, "I'm sending home with you this bag of clamps, novice level." Ally looked up from her reading to give me a quick glance. My eyeballs rolled to the back of my head. "You should have Marc clamp you (Ally looked up again and repeated the words 'clamp you') once or twice a day. Wear them for as long as you can each time, increasing your tolerance to at least a half hour. I'll have John mail you advanced clamps and weights with instructions within the next few days. Let me know if there's anything else you need and I'll be happy to send it along. Until then, enjoy Leon and the balls, Yours Truly, Dort." Ally stopped reading and just stood there, dumfounded.

"It's a long story," I sighed and groaned at their stares.

"These must be the clamps," Steve said as he bent over to pick up a small bag, and tried to look under the small flap of material that was still covering my pussy while he was at it. Had I been sitting according to the rules, knees apart, his view would have been excellent. I decided that for now, the rules be damned, because I wanted to torture him, hurt him in some way for his flippant attitude toward my body, and it felt good to see the disappointment in his eyes.

He and Ally opened the bag and emptied the contents unto the coffee table beside my feet. Three small clamps, the kind that you pinch one end to open the jaws of the other, lay there. They were gold, the same color as the pendant that dangled from my ankle next to them. It's as if the clamps had made their appearance on purpose next to the anklet's inscription, "Anything, No limits, Anytime, I promise." I shivered at the sight of them.

"Just what are these clamps supposed to clamp?" Steve was dying of curiosity.

"Tell us quickly," Ally echoed, "then we've got to get ready to go see Ms. Thomas."

The mention of that woman's name made me shiver again. I saw in my mind's eye the hairbrush in her hand that would be pelting my backside. In front of me, in flesh and blood, I saw two people who had a hand in earning me the spanking: it was for Steve that I took off my panties in the bar, and it was Ally who tattled to Ms Thomas. A perverse idea popped into my head.

"I can't tell you. I can only show you," I said in the most enticing voice I could muster.

"Yes!" Steve grinned.

"Okay, then, come here, Ally."

"Me?" she recoiled slightly.

"If you want to know, come here."

"Go on, Ally. I want to see this," Steve urged and gave her a gentle nudge in my direction.

I sat up straight on the couch so Ally could stand directly in front of me. When she stepped reluctantly within my reach, I placed my hands on her hips, as others have done to me countless times, and held her crotch in front of my face. I picked up one of the clamps.

"Do you trust me, Ally?" I asked in a reassuring voice.

"Yes," she stammered. "But this won't hurt, right?"

"Close your eyes. Tightly. And don't move."

Steve decided to be part of the game and placed his hands over Ally's eyes. I liked the way she was steadied against his body. I smiled to myself and reached under her short skirt for the elastic of her panties.

"I'm going to take these off, since I need to borrow them to see Ms Thomas, anyway, okay?" 

She nodded and I began to pull them down. "Please hold your hem at your waist," I told her, glad to have something to occupy her hands. As her bald pubic bone came into view, I realized that for all the times she has seen me naked, up close naked, this was the first definitive view I had ever had of her. I felt the power I had over her. I felt the rush of unveiling a never-before-seen, private thing. I liked it. The top of her slit appeared. Just the hint of a semi-circular fold of skin from her lower abdomen enhanced the upper limit, crowning it. I continued to tug on the elastic. Her labia were engorged and made her pussy look like two tall, long hills bordering a very narrow canyon. I smelled her sex. I took a deep breath. I stared into her vagina and thought of all those faces which have stared into mine. I felt my own juices flow around the leather that was pressing against my clit. I smelled my own sex and compared it to Ally's. I pulled her panties down the length of her legs and she stepped out of them. I placed them on the couch beside me.

"Feet apart," I commanded in a pleasant tone. "A bit further, dear," I made my voice drip with sweetness.

Her narrow canyon widened and her clitoris appeared from between the hills. I placed my left hand flat against her lower abdomen to accustom her to my touch, then moved my thumb and forefinger to spread her lips even wider at the button. She jumped slightly and giggled softly.

"Hold still, dear," I reminded her.

With my right hand I pinched the clamp open and pointed it at its target. I looked up at Steve, curious to see what his reaction was going to be. His eyes were as wide as saucers; he was literally licking his lips. I placed the jaws of the clamp on either side of Ally's clitoris, then released the pressure. The flat jaws pressed against Ally and she jerked, hitting Steve in the crotch with her recoiling buttocks. She dropped the hem of her skirt and moved her hands to her pussy, but I anticipated that and caught them. With her wrists in my hands, I pulled her forward, twisted her, and brought her with a thud onto the couch beside me. I quickly pinned her down.

"Owwww," she yelled. 

"Shush! The neighbors!" I joked.

She suddenly fell silent, her body went limp. She opened her eyes and looked into mine. I guess I expected to see daggers there, but instead saw a twinkle. A smile grew across her face as she cocked her head pensively. 

"You're hurting my wrists," she said softly.

I released my grip and climbed off of her, tentatively, on guard for any sudden reprisals. When her hands were free, she used them only to right herself on the couch. Next she lifted her skirt that had fallen over her crotch. She bent over slightly to peer down at herself. Steve and I moved our heads in close, too. The wings of the clamp protruded from between her lips, witness to the fact that the jaws still held their prey. Ally carefully spread the top of her vagina to reveal a flattened clitoris pressed firmly between the jaws of the clamp. The three of us were absolutely mesmerized by the sight.

"Does it hurt?" Steve stammered.

Ally didn't answer right away, but finally brought out, "It stung like the dickens going on, but...it just...kinda...I don't know...throbs, now."

"My god! That's sexy!" Steve exclaimed.

Ally looked up at Steve, then back down at herself.

"You really like that?" she asked.

"God, Yes!" He brought out quickly, tripping over his own tongue.

"What did the note say...?" she asked out loud, but more to herself, "For as long as you can tolerate it? Is that what it said, Steve?" She said louder.

"Yes, yes, I think so." He moved quickly to pick up the note. "Yes, it says to wear them as long as you can, increasing you tolerance."

"Them?" she repeated. "Why does it say 'them,' Liza?"

"The other two are for the nipples," I said matter-of-factly, in a natural voice, like it was the most common thing in the world.

Her eyes bugged out, her jaw dropped. She looked up at Steve. He was on fire, and she knew it. She took a quick breath and I saw her hand go to the top of her mound. It was a natural movement for her, she spent most of the day with her fingers thumping against her crotch, anyway. I thought she was going to remove the metal squeezing her, but she just placed her hand over the top of it and touched it gently, stroked it lightly, even moved it back and forth, testing the limits. I could see the wheels turning in her mind. 

"Okay," she said in a hushed tone, barely audible. "But you do it, Steve."

She began to unbutton her blouse. I helped her off with it, and her bra, too, as Steve gathered up the two remaining clamps. She settled with her back against the couch, her tiny breasts sitting atop her chest like cones, her nipples jutting forward, sensing that something extradinary was going to happen. Her left hand was by her side, but she moved it to hold my right hand as Steve kneeled before her. Her right hand continued to pet the metal between her legs. As the clamp surrounded her left nipple, she closed her eyes and squeezed my hand like a vice. When the full pressure of the clamp held her firmly, Ally cried out and rolled toward me, burying her head in my neck. Her breathing was labored. About a half minute passed. Neither Steve nor I moved a muscle, we didn't breathe. Slowly, as if shaking off a bad dream, Ally resumed her former position.

"Okay, I'm ready," she said and closed her eyes again.

She yelled even louder this time and her body shook. Both hands went to her pussy. She pressed and kneaded herself, paying no attention to the metal clamp that held on tenaciously. She continued to yell as wave after wave of orgasm rocked her, then she just fell over into my lap. I stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. Steve was fixed in the kneeling position, trying to take it all in, memorize every detail.

Nothing but my stroking of her hair disturbed the air around us. She rested for about five or ten minutes, then opened her eyes. She was facing the clock.

"Oh my god!" She raised herself from my lap, even tried to stand, but a searing pain in her crotch sat her back down, breathless. "You are...going to be late," she brought out at last.

I looked at the clock and jumped myself. It was five minutes after ten. I grabbed the panties from the couch and slipped them on quickly under my dress. I ran for the door and down the steps, not looking back. The ben-wa balls within me rolled around like in a pail that is being swung erratically. The sensation was driving me crazy, but I would not, could not, slow down. I arrived at Ms Thomas' door out of breath, my pussy juices running down my leg. I knocked.

I had only a few seconds to try to compose myself. When the maid opened the door, I was wiping my inner thighs with my bare hands and rubbing them dry on my panties in the back. She took no notice of me, just turned and walked into the apartment. I knew that was my cue to follow, and I knew where we were headed, and what I was supposed to do when I got there. 

Without the maid's saying a word, I assumed a standing position in front of the sofa in the library. I clasped my hands behind me and spread my feet, and then I waited. I waited and I waited, and then I waited some more. I wasn't bored, though, because the sounds from the next room kept me entertained. I heard file drawers opening and slamming shut. I heard the maid's voice and that of a stranger, but from the sometimes heated discussion I could pick out only a word here and there. I couldn't make any sense of it, but I definitely heard my name, often.

Finally, a young girl that I took to be in her late teens came in the room. I turned my head, but kept my body in position. 

"Please relax, Mrs. Daniels," she said as she reached me. "Sit with me. Let's talk." She sat down on the couch with her legs tucked underneath her, facing the spot where she expected me to settle. Her short denim skirt kept her legs tightly together, hugging her thighs just inches below her crotch. Her straight brown hair fell down her back, contrasting with the white top that fell away from her breasts when she leaned toward me. Her bra was trimmed in lace.

"I'm Tina," she introduced herself. "I'm minding the store, so to speak, while my mom is in Europe. She was called away suddenly, yesterday."

I didn't know how or what to respond, so I just nodded with a look of understanding.

"Well, let me tell you," she laughed one of those 'boy is this going to knock your socks off' laughs, "I thought my mother was playing a silly joke on me, that's for sure. Well, in a way she is, I suppose, even though this is no joking matter, huh?"

I just nodded again.

"Well, let me tell you," she obviously liked that phrase, "when I found my mother's note, the note of instructions about you, I really did think it was a joke. You see, I thought she was just having a little fun with me, because I begged her to leave me in charge. She said I couldn't do everything that needed to be done, but I promised her that I could, that I would. Well, let me tell you, I never expected anything like this! I couldn't believe it when Martha confirmed everything. I insisted on calling my mother. Thank god she had her cell on. She's really pissed about the long distance charges, though. She read me the riot act - I guess you know how she can be, told me not to call her again unless I was dying, and told me to either take care of things or let Ms Faber - you know Ally? - take over until she gets back."

She ran out of breath and stopped talking. I didn't move. I just stared at her.

"Well, let me tell you," she took a deep breath and began again, "I thought my roommate was somehow involved, too - oh, perhaps you don't know that I just finished my first year of college. Well, anyway, it just so happened that I've been giving Jill a good spanking now and again since January. Yeah, January, that's when I just couldn't take her nonsense anymore and took her over my knee, just like I was her mother, or something. Well, let me tell you, I was really surprised when it turned out she actually liked it! Do you like it, Mrs. Daniels? Can I call you Liza? It would make this a whole lot less awkward if you like it, Liza, let me tell you. Do you like it?"

She again just stopped talking to breathe and looked at me. Her eyes begged me to say, "yes." I couldn't find my voice. I just slowly shook my head from side to side.

"Oh, shit!" she exclaimed, twisted her body, brought her legs out from under her, and settled down sitting next to me, looking forward into the room as was I. 

About thirty seconds went by in silence, then she turned to look at me.

"What in the hell did you do?" she asked.

"Your mom doesn't like the way I dress," I said hesitatingly.

"What's the matter with the way you dress? I like this particular dress," she said.

"It's a long story," I sighed. "Maybe you should just give me my spanking and get it over with."

"I need to hear it," she said in a resolute tone. "Being in charge means being in charge, damn it! You tell me your story, then I'll decide. I'm in charge! If I decide to give you a spanking I bloody well will, let me tell you, but it's up to me. I'm in charge!"

I again just stared at her, not knowing where to begin. 

"You can either talk or I can spank. Make up your mind," she said in a soft voice that belied her sudden terseness. 

So, I started talking. I told her about Marc, begging her not to tell her mother. I told the story of that first day, moving into the apartment, just a few short days ago, on Saturday. I told her how I came to be wearing just a towel on the balcony when her mother saw me. I told her the humiliation I felt when Marc took my dress off me in front of the boys the next day, and I started to cry. I told her how her mother enlisted Ally to spy on me and to make sure that I wear panties, and to report everything I do. I told her how Ally tattled on me when I was made to take my panties off in the bar and flash Marc's best friend, Steve, and that's what earned the hairbrush for which I was there today. I cried some more, then I told her how Marc had Sam and Jake took all my clothes away, and how they make me run around naked. I even showed her my anklet and explained how I came to be wearing it, what it compelled me to do. I cried genuine tears as I told my story, feeling more and more sorry for myself. There was none of Dort's understanding and acceptance in any of my discourse. I wanted someone to agree that nothing was my fault and that it just wasn't fair that I be punished time after time.

At some point during my long story she put her arm around my shoulders and held me close. With the other hand she held my hands which I had placed in my lap. The more I felt her warmth and caring, the more I poured my heart out and bawled like a child. 

She offered me tissues and I used them.

When I reached a stopping point, I sat quietly, waiting for this youngster to render judgment on my life. It was a long time coming, for she seemed perfectly content to simply sit there and hold me.

"That's an incredible story, I have to tell you," she brought out at last.

"Yeah, and that's just the half of it," I clucked my teeth and sighed.

"There's more?" Her voice rose in anticipation.

"Another time, please. I beg you."

"Well, okay," she said joyfully and turned to face me, bringing her legs back underneath her. She grabbed my head in her hands and turned it toward her. "You look like you need a kiss!" she exclaimed. "That's what you need to make you feel better. You need a kiss. I'm going to give you a big kiss!"

And that's exactly what she did. Her open lips encircled my mouth, soaking my upper and lower lips. She sucked in what can only be described as a fish-like intake of water, then her tongue came crashing through my lips to butt up against my teeth. It darted hither and froe looking for a way into my mouth. I suddenly felt one of her knees land in my lap and the jolt gave her tongue the opportunity it was looking for. As her tongue explored every centimeter of my upper palate on its way to my tonsils, her hand unbuttoned the buttons at my breasts and she slipped inside my dress. She rolled my nipple between her thumb and forefinger, pulling it straight out from time to time. As she ate hungrily at my face, her arm broke several buttons as she forced her hand toward my crotch. It went under the elastic of my panties and over my belt without stopping. It was the feel of the leather wedged deep inside my pussy that made her stop everything. She disengaged my mouth and sat back, taking her hand with her.

"What in the hell?" she stammered.

"Well, that's the rest of the story," I sighed.

"Stand up!" she commanded.

I stood before her in a familiar pose. She unbuttoned the remaining buttons of the dress, cast it aside, then hurriedly pulled my panties down. She peered into my crotch.

"It's a chastity belt," I said softly.




Liza's New Life Ch. 06



"Oh, my God!" She exclaimed.

"It's locked in the back."

She turned me around to look. She pulled at the lock and tested the leather's tautness as it descended into my butt crack. 

"I'll cut it off!" she declared.

"If you must," I said in an even tone, "but if you care for me at all, and your kiss said you do, you'll let it go for now. Please just give me some time to sort things out with Marc. I'll come to you when I can." I made a promise I had no intention of keeping.

"No, not when you can. When I say! I'm in charge. Remember?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Martha has dinner on the table at seven o'clock every night. You be here at six-thirty without that monstrosity, or I'll cut it off, understand?

"I understand." 

"Martha!" Tina yelled. "Show Mrs. Daniels out," she barked when the door opened.

I picked up my tattered dress and held it in front of me as I ran out the room.

"There will be one more for dinner," I heard Tina's voice behind me.

The sensations within my vagina began anew as the balls banged against its walls, again and again. I covered myself as best I could with the cloth of my former dress, but I knew nothing was being hidden as I ran past a couple of guys on their way to the pool. 

"Hey, Liza! Slow down! Where ya going so fast?" One of them called out.

"Oh, shit," I cried out loud.

I tried to run even faster, but in so doing I stumbled and fell. I let go of the cloth to catch myself before I hit the pavement. I tumbled head over heels, then came up running again. Now completely naked except for my belt, I sprinted the last distance to my apartment, the guys behind me gaining fast, calling to me to stop.

I ran up the stairs, the guys nipping at my heels, and burst through my front door. I stopped just in time to avoid stepping on Steve in the middle of the living-room floor, who was atop Ally, thrusting away with all his might. I stood over them, watching, as the two guys came up behind me and stopped. Ally saw the three of us, let out a yell, and pushed Steve off of her. He rolled to one side on his back, grabbed his penis, and shot his load toward the ceiling. 

I jumped at the sight of the two behind me and ran for my bedroom, and Ally was just as quick. We squeezed through the door together, slammed it shut, and pressed our naked bodies against it, hoping to keep out the intruders. We listened intently for sounds of mayhem, but everything was silent. About a minute later, a minute in which neither of us took a breath, we jumped at the light knock at the other side of the door. 

"Ally, it's okay, they're gone." Steve's plaintive voice was heard.

Ally opened the door wide and threw herself in his arms. 

"We were so scared," she sobbed into the crook of his neck. 

He held her and extended a hand to me, as if to assure me, too, that I was also safe. I took it and pressed it to my lips and smiled contentedly. 

When he and Ally finally separated, I found it interesting to see that he had taken the time to put on the panties Ally gave him to wear, but that was all. The thin cotton crotch bulged over his now soft member. The head of his penis stuck out on one side, and only one testicle tucked into the material. The panty had clever little cuts in the elastic here and there to allow for Steve's thicker thighs and larger waist, and it was noticeably discolored in front; I remembered that Ally provided him only soiled panties. 

"So they're gone?" I asked, peering around the corner of the door to make sure.

"Yeah. They said they knew you and just wanted to make sure you were alright. They left right away without any trouble. One of them said his name was Brad. I forget the other one's name."

"Tom," Ally said. They share an apartment in building 'B.' I hope this doesn't get back to Ms Thomas."

"She's in Europe," I said and went to the bed to sit down. I needed to let the butterflies in my stomach settle down, the ben-wa balls to stop spinning.

"What?" Ally exclaimed. "She's gone? You...you didn't get your spanking?" she stammered, then looked guiltily toward Steve.

"Spanking?" Steve repeated.

"Please, Ally!" I looked plaintively, pleading with my eyes for her not to say any more.

"But Liza," Alley said as she sat down beside me. "I have to tell him everything. He's my fiancé!"

"Fiancé!" I cried and threw my arms around her. I extended one of my hands to Steve, who took it and pressed it to his lips. I pulled him onto the bed beside me and we all hugged in a group. I fell over from the weight of their bodies and Steve was pressed against me. I felt the head of his suddenly hard penis against my thigh and I reached down instinctively to stroke it. I found myself clutching at it and used it to pull on as I righted myself on the bed. I was still holding it when conversation resumed.

"He just asked me, before you came in," Ally beamed.

"I'm so happy for you both!" I beamed as well. "Marc's and my two good friends, married! How about that!" I threw my free hand back around Ally's neck and kissed her on the cheek. I squeezed Steve's cock as I did. I settled back between them and smiled, and continued to hold onto Steve.

"Well, tell us, what happened at Ms Thomas'? You said she wasn't there?"

"No, and I'm surprised you didn't know."

"I took yesterday afternoon off and I'm not scheduled to go in until after lunch, today."

"She'll be in Europe for a few weeks. Her daughter Tina is running the office."

"Tina? I haven't seen Tina in months! She's a character!"

"Yeah, I know. I sampled her character as it slid down my throat."

"What?"

"She tried to rape me!"

"What?"

"If it hadn't been for the belt, I would belong to her, now."

I don't know, maybe it was the tone in my voice, the absurdity of the situation, the words I used, or just the unlikelihood that anyone would ever have to take me forcibly, but Ally and Steve both just burst out laughing. I even joined the laughter, but never let go of my grip on Steve.

"Steve," I said when he began to calm down. "Will you please take this belt off me? It's served it's purpose, and I need to go pee."

I released him and stood with my back to him. I looked back over my shoulder and said, "The combination is 911."

I said it with a straight face and a neutral voice, but the two of them just started rolling on the bed in laughter, again. 

"Come on guys," I shouted, "this is getting serious, now." 

"Is it an...emergency?" Steve giggled and they started rolling in laughter, again.

"Please, Steve. Please," I begged, still looking back over my shoulder at them on the bed.

Ally finally sat up straight and reached out to grab my hips. She pulled me back down on the bed, again in the sitting position, and put an arm around me. Steve pressed in close on the other side.

"Liza," she said in a sweet voice, "let us help you wait just a little longer, okay? I played this game with Steve while you were gone. He's good, but you can show him how it's really done, okay?"

"No, Ally, please. I've already waited as long as I can. Please undo the belt and take me to the bathroom, please."

"Shh," she hushed me and held me tighter. "We'll do this together. Just hold on."

I groped for Steve's penis, and when I found it I grabbed a hold. "I'm holding on," I said through clenched teeth.

With her index finger, Ally pressed on the belt at the spot she guessed my pee hole to be. Her other fingers gently massaged my labia, as if trying to get me to relax. Relaxing was the last thing I wanted to do, though. I needed to tense every muscle in my body to keep the pee from storming past my sphincter. I felt my blood pressure rising; my head pounded. The more I felt the urge to pee, the harder I squeezed Steve's penis. It was a contest, now, to see whether Steve or I would crack first. A few seconds later he reached behind me and I felt his welcome touch at my lower back as he dialed the combination. I felt the pressure of the belt give way as Steve released the mechanism. I stood up quickly and the back of the leather fell from between my buttocks to hang straight down. It's pressure in my pussy was completely released and the ben-wa balls came tumbling out onto the floor. Steve's eyes bugged out. I took a step toward the bathroom, but it was too late. I felt the flood of urine follow the balls. I stopped in my tracks and let it happen, right there on the beautiful accent rug I picked out with such care. I peed and peed. A strong musky scent filled the room. Sometime during the flow, I didn't notice exactly when, Ally put both hands to my crotch, as if to wash her hands in the stream. I continued to pee.

When the last drop finally fell, I released the belt's mechanism in front and it fell in the pool of urine at my feet. I walked calmly to the bathroom to shower. Steve and Ally joined me.

I stood in the center, under the spray, and together they rubbed my body with soap: Steve on my left, Ally on my right. Their hands went up and down my legs, my back, and made circular motions on my breasts. My buttocks and vagina got special attention from them both. I let their hands roam as the water cascaded over my body to accentuate their touch. My thoughts went to the last time I had company in this shower, and the beautiful love that Marc and I made together. I remembered how hard he was and how forceful he was, and I recalled why: he had just shown me off in that salacious swim suit to about a dozen of our new neighbors at the pool. The knot in my stomach returned at the memory of the humiliation I experienced as I was forced to play Frisbee in that transparent suit. As the water cascaded on my body, so did the memories: I saw each and every humiliation and punishment I had suffered from Marc's little game. The knot twisted in my belly and my anger grew. I felt like I wanted to hit somebody, do something violent. 

It was Steve's stray finger at my pussy that jolted me into action. I pushed him against the wall, his hard cock pointing at me. I threw my arms around his neck and hoisted my legs around his waist. With my feet also resting against the wall against which he was pinned, I was able to maneuver my crotch until my pussy engulfed his manhood. I pressed him into me, relaxed slightly, then pressed again. I did it again and again, more and more rapidly. I began to bang against him furiously. His prick thumped against the back of my vaginal wall. I threw my head from side to side madly as I fucked him in a fashion I've never fucked anybody in my life. He squirted his jism into me and I continued to pump. His penis went limp and I continued to pump. It fell out and I still banged into his lower abdomen. He slid down the wall, came to rest in a seated position with me on top, and still I continued to wiggle and gyrate in his lap. 

Ally extracted me from on top of him.She stood me up and pressed me against the opposite wall. I closed my eyes and let the anger and violence ooze from my body. When I felt Ally's fingers at my pussy, I opened my eyes to see her kneeled before me. She was dipping her fingers into my vagina, scooping out Steve's cum and eating it. She looked like a child with her fingers riming the inside of the peanut butter jar, feeling for the last tasty morsel. She was Pooh Bear with a paw in the honey pot. She reached deep inside, and I opened my thighs to make it easier for her. Her hand went repeatedly from my vagina to her mouth, each time dripping with white fluid. It didn't take many trips, though, before the fluid she sought was diluted by my juices. I grabbed my nipple and squeezed as I began to feel the pressure within me build. Her thrusts inside me went deeper and deeper, and the spasms in my body became more and more pronounced. "Your fault, Marc!" I screamed as the orgasm rocked me.

Steve left during Ally's snack, and she followed after ingesting as many of my juices she could suck from me. I remained to try some more to wash away the blame I heaped on Marc, his game, and my new life. The rage was gone, but I was worried I would empty the Colorado river before my distaste for the person I had become would disappear down the drain. I was horrified that I took pleasure in vengeance, first against Gina last night, then Ally this morning. I cringed when I thought how I had fucked, no raped, my friend's fiancé, my husband's best friend. I needed to get a grip. I needed lunch.

I was surprised to find a large bath towel where it should be, remembering that Marc had put under lock anything large enough to cover my nakedness. I rubbed myself as I wrapped myself in it, luxuriating in its fluffy touch. 

I walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. Ally and Steve were fully dressed in the clothes they had greeted me in this morning. I saw them exchange a look that could have no other purpose than to remark on my towel, but I ignored them and tested the towel's knot to make sure it was secure. I just wasn't in the mood for Marc's naked game at the moment.

"I'm making turkey sandwiches," Ally said happily.

"Great! I'm starved."

"I rolled up the rug and took it to the trash," Steve said.

"That was quick," I smiled.

"And I washed your balls and the belt here in the sink," Ally added.

"Well, I guess you're both hired, then," I joked.

"Let's eat on the balcony," I suggested. "I have an urge to sit out there in my towel, what with Ms Thomas being in Europe."

Ally laughed, but Steve didn't get it. He gave a puzzled look.

"It's part of the 'spanking' story," Ally informed him. 

"Oh yeah, you were going to tell me about that..."

The telephone rang and I went to answer it. It was Marc. The first part of the conversation was filled with all the perfunctory "I miss yous" and the questions about his hotel. He told me how much he loved me and how he enjoyed hearing about my adventures in Catalina, teasingly asking me when I was going back. I just laughed politely.

"What are you wearing?" he suddenly asked out of the blue.

I jumped slightly at the question. It crossed my mind to have it out with him, right then and there, about what this game had done to me, how I'm afraid of the person I was turning into. The urge was fleeting, though. I reached with my free hand to untie the knot that held my comfortable wrap against my body. I felt it slither the length of my torso to the floor.

"Huh?" he said when I hesitated.

"Nothing, Marc. Absolutely nothing."

"Wow, great!" He sounded excited. "Is anyone there with you."

"Ally and Steve. Steve just asked her to marry him." I took an opportunity to change the subject.

"What? He's getting married? He's there?"

"Yep, it all just happened a little while ago."

"A little while ago? Let me talk to Steve, Liza. It's something important about work."

I placed my hand over the mouthpiece and called for Steve to come to the phone. As he approached, he gave me that up-and-down look and smiled broadly.

"I love the effect Marc has on you," he winked as he took the phone.

I quickly threw my free arm over my breasts and gave him a disapproving look. 

"Too late," he laughed.

I picked up my towel from the floor and retied it around me as I rejoined Ally on the balcony.

"I want to talk to you about your husband-to-be," I announced as I took a bite of my turkey.

"It's okay, Liza." She smiled and patted my hand reassuredly. "We already talked about it. He's cool with it and I'm cool with it. It's all just part of the 'Marc effect.'"

"The 'Marc effect,'" I stammered. "Where did you hear that expression?"

"I don't know, I guess I must have heard it somewhere."

"I have to run back to the office," Steve poked his head through the sliding glass door. "Well, 'I have to get my ass back to work on this end of the Baker Account,' to use Marc's words. I guess an important meeting is about to start out in New York and he needs me to back him up here. I'll see you beautiful ladies later..."

"Liza! I just have to tell you what happened after you left this morning," Ally exclaimed with joy when we heard the front door close behind him. 

Her hand went to her crotch, as it always does when she's excited, or bored, or worried, or happy... I decided to put my complaints about Steve's juvenile remarks aside for a while and just listen.

"Well, as you know, I was wearing the clamps. My God! those clamps are something. You know they hurt really, really bad when they went on - I thought you were trying to kill me, it hurt so bad. I couldn't understand why you would do that to me. There was a moment there when I really hated you, even - but after that, it was just kind of a throbbing... glow. I could feel the blood constricted in my veins, trying to pump its way through. I could actually hear the rhythm of my heart beat. My clit became the center of my universe as I sat there with the clamp protruding from between my pussy lips. It was as if I had come home from a long journey away. I don't know how else to describe it. Everything focused and had a center. And then, when Steve attached the nipple clamps, I thought I would pass out from the pain. But they, too, began to emanate incredible sensations that they shared with my clit. Yes, Liza, bolts of lightening went from my nipples to my clit! It was the most amazing thing ever. I can't get over it.

"Well, as you know, Steve was kneeling there in front of me. He stayed there and just held my hands as I felt the electricity course through my body. I didn't even touch myself the whole time! Do you believe it? I didn't need to....

"I kept them on for a long time. What did the note say? Work up to a half hour? Well, I'm there, baby, I'm there...and more! But finally, I asked Steve to remove them. The one at my left tit came off first. My nipple filled with blood and became an incredible size, all the time stinging just as much as when the clamp went on. I grabbed my tit to try to make the pain go away. I thought if I squeezed the nipple back the way it was, the hurt would stop, but I only made it worse. I screamed and yelled until the pain finally began to subside. The second nipple sent me through the roof again, but at least I knew what to expect this time and just rode it out, paying particular attention to the way my clit vibrated, as if awakened by the pain in my nipple.

"I needed a break after my nipples, so I just sat there and Steve and I talked. He never left the kneeling position. We talked about everything we'd discovered about each other in just a day, and how each thing was precious. He promised he'd never wear anything next to his dick but my soiled panties. Can you imagine? We talked about you, Liza, and about Marc, and how much you two were teaching us about ourselves and how to live. We promised each other to be like you. He promised to be my Marc, and I promised to be his Liza!

"When Steve removed the clamp from my clit, I thought I died and went to heaven. It seemed like there were now three points of light on the surface of my body, throbbing beacons of blinding joy. My clit swelled like a bubble from between my pussy lips. I couldn't keep my hands off it. It was the most delicious sensation I've ever had.

"When the spasms that were coming and going finally subsided and the throbbing went down to the point that I couldn't take my pulse just by listening, I was left with genitals that were the most sensitive anyone could ever imagine. It was as if my pussy could hear a pin drop in the next room, do you know what I mean? It was as if a blind man could suddenly see. I felt things, and even knew things, that I could never have imagined before.

"I sat there just enjoying these new sensations, with Steve still kneeling before me, and, all of a sudden, I heard his voice. It wasn't his regular voice, though, it was his voice as if it were filtered through fine gold. It even had a scent, the delicious aroma of chocolate - you know how I love chocolate! It said, 'I love you; will you marry me?'




Liza's New Life Ch. 06



"I jumped into his arms, we rolled on the floor, and he climbed on top of me, discarding his clothes here and there. His chest pushed against my supersensitive nipples and made my pussy squirt. Yes, squirt! When his dick touched my clit I thought I would hit the moon. It was as if every other time I had made love it was under a thick layer of armor. For the first time I was laid bare, ready to feel my lover.

"That's when you and your pursuers came in...," her voice trailed off. She sighed.

I could not have been more dumfounded. I just stared at her with unblinking eyes. I had never in my life heard one person speak so earnestly, so eloquently, so openly, so honestly. I found myself jealous of her joy, wishing I could feel the things that she felt. And then it dawned on me: she was what I've been fighting. She had become the Liza that Marc had been trying to create in me. She had put aside her inhibitions and just 'let go.' Her receptiveness allowed my selfish act of vengeance to bring her a new awareness, just as Marc's self-indulgent game is intended to enrich my life. I just need to 'let go' and accept. She didn't blame me for hurting her, she blessed me. She was able to accept and revel in whatever life has to offer, without affixing blame or bemoaning injustices, without the endless self-doubt and recrimination that colors my ability to feel, really feel, the depths of my sexuality. She had shed the odious onion layers between her and life, and I wanted to, too. I undid the knot that kept the towel over my nakedness. Right there on the balcony, hoping that Ms Thomas could see me from the top of the Eiffel Tower, my onion layers were shed from my body. I was naked and I wanted to experience every possible humiliation because of it. I wanted to feel, really feel. I was ready to embrace whatever the Marc effect would bring. 

"Liza, you'll be my maid of honor, right?"

"Yes, of course," I smiled.

"We'll always be best friends, right?"

"Yes, of course," I smiled again as all the times I've wanted to ring her neck flashed in my mind.

Ally finished her sandwich quickly and rushed off to the office. She didn't want to be late for her new boss, she explained half jokingly and half terrified as she went out the door.

I looked around my apartment and listened. The silence of being alone greeted me like a long, lost friend. I plunged into our over-stuffed easy chair and threw my left leg up over the arm, just making myself comfortable. I was mindful of how my pussy lips separated slightly to let a wave of cool air penetrate me. I was glad to be naked. I smiled to myself at the thought that I was often too busy being embarrassed about it to just relax and enjoy it. Well, Ally's little pep talk had its effect, and all my doubts about the naked game I promised to play for my husband were put aside. Like the subtitle to the movie "Dr. Strangelove," I decided to just relax and learn to love the bomb.

"Hello," I answered absentmindedly, still lost in the comfort of my easy chair, when the phone rang.

"Hi, Liza." Marc's voice broke the spell.

"Hi, sweetheart," I crooned. "Is the Baker account all settled already? Are you on your way home?" I teased, knowing that couldn't possibly be the case.

"No, we're just on a potty break. I wanted to talk to you about the conversation I just had with Steve..."

"Did he ask you to be his best man?" I interrupted.

"No, that's...well, yes..., but that's not why I called. Liza," he began again in a slower, more deliberate voice, "you know I keep pretty close tabs on...things."

"If by things, you mean me, then, yes, I know 'the night has a thousand eyes,' to quote a popular song."

"Well, it's interesting that that particular song came to mind," he said dryly. "Tell me what happened in the shower, Liza."

I didn't say anything for a moment. I tried desperately to gather my thoughts.

"Liza, Steve described something that, if I had read it in 'Penthouse Forum,' I would have written a letter to the editor complaining that they were obviously making stuff up! Liza, are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm here," I said in my softest tone. "When are you coming home? I've been wanting to talk about it, too." 

"It might be days before I get out of New York, and I need to know now, Liza. What happened?"

"Marc, you obviously know what happened. What I need is to be able to talk to you about Why it happened."

"Then tell me!" His impatient tone lost nothing in the transcontinental transmission.

"Marc," I began slowly and deliberately, trying to collect my thoughts as I went. "I'm not the same person you kissed good-bye yesterday morning."

"What?" is all he could muster.

"I warned you that there could be consequences, unforeseen consequences, to this game we're playing."

"What do you mean?"

"I first noticed the change yesterday evening. Marc, you probably heard what happened to Gina, how she was punished so...so severely."

"Yes, I got a blow by blow account."

I dismissed his attempt at humor and continued my thought. 

"Well, it occurred to me that I actually enjoyed watching it. Marc," I raised my voice, "that's not me! That's not right!"

"But she had hurt You, Liza. That's all. Anybody would feel the same way."

"Maybe, but not the woman you knew," I said softly.

"But what does that have to do with fucking Steve?" He shouted in anger in a way I'd never heard.

"This morning I put a clamp on Ally's clit. Did you hear about that?" I ignored his outburst.

"Yes, Steve said it was the most exciting thing he ever saw."

"Well, I didn't mean it that way, Marc. I did it, without her consent, because I actually wanted to hurt her. My intention was to punish her."

"Why?" he said slowly.

"Well, that doesn't matter. It just matters that the person you knew would never have wanted to do something like that."

"Are you coming to the part about Steve soon?"

"Well, I got to thinking about this change in me," I began again. "I began to blame you for this monster I'd become, because of the promises you've made me keep, and the situations I find myself in because of them. The more I thought about it the more I blamed you and the angrier I became. Finally, in the shower with Ally and Steve, I just snapped. Marc, what I did to Steve had nothing to do with making love, or even sex, for that matter. It was a raw, inexcusable act of violence. I raped him, Marc, just as surely as anybody has ever been raped, and I can state unequivocally, for the record, if there was ever any doubt in anybody's mind, that rape is nothing but violence. It was blind rage that drove me."

"My, god," I heard him whisper into the phone, then there was silence for awhile. "You must really hate me, then?"

"No, Marc. I love you as a matter of fact." I started to cry, but through my tears, I continued, "It was Ally, and Dort, too, who made me realize that I shouldn't abandon my promises, that what I go through for you may be your fault, I don't know, maybe that's not the right word, but it's my challenge, because I love you. I guess I've come to realize that whatever you cause to happen, good or bad, I own the consequences."

"I love you, Liza. I've never loved you more than I love you right now."

"Come home soon, please."

"As soon as I can, I promise."

"I need you, Marc."

"I'm always involved in everything, even when I'm not there."

"Yes, I know."

"Oh, Liza? Before I go, there's just one more thing."

"Yes," I brought out hesitantly despite the bold statements that still hung in the air.

"What are you wearing?"

"Nothing, Marc. Nothing at all."