Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (Complete)
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Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (Part 9)
Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (Part 9)
It became immediately apparent the wrap was never meant to act as a complete outfit. With only a tie in front, it draped down her body like a curtain. With every wind gust, it fluttered out behind her like a cape, leaving her entire body on display. And unfortunately, today was the windiest day so far. I think a storm front was rolling in or something. She had to resort to holding her sarong closed with one hand down low as we walked. But even with it wrapped around her, from behind I could still see her entire ripe bottom through the thin material. It would be obvious to anyone within twenty feet of her that she was naked underneath her wrap.
Beyond the end of resort maintenance, the beach started to change. The sand was covered in seaweed that had washed ashore and it was rockier. I guess that's what happens when you don't comb the beach clean every day for the sake of tourists. There were tough little patches of grass clinging desperately to the loose soil and I saw lots of new wildlife that I hadn't seen before.
Tiny crabs darted from pool to pool, picking through moss and algae, and colorful lizards were sunning themselves on flat rocks. The lizards darted away whenever we got close. Their actions reminded me to keep an eye out for snakes!
While I was having a blast exploring this new ecosystem, Lucy was less enthusiastic about our excursion. She walked along the shore eyeing the still crystal-clear water enviously. Even though I had forbidden her from swimming, she looked ready to flee to the safety of the water if anyone dared to come too close to us. But we encountered no one on the first part of our journey.
The beach abruptly ended as the shore curved off to the north. Here the water looked deeper and murkier. Left with no other choice, we turned and followed the rocky shore to the north until we came to the end of a rickety wooden boardwalk with an old, weathered sign officially welcoming us to Skipper's Bay.
Following the boardwalk, we started to see docks extending far out into the water. The docks branched off at regular intervals and had boats attached to them. The further we walked, the nicer the boats got. There were a few boats advertising guided deep sea fishing outings and other sport fishing tours. But I guessed the fishermen liked to leave out early, because there were lots of empty parking stalls on the docks.
Eventually the boardwalk doubled in width, then doubled again as we made our way around the bay. They clearly took better care of it here and we didn’t have to worry so much about getting splinters in our bare feet. At one point we did see a boat with some men getting ready to depart. They all turned and looked when they saw us. They waved across the water with huge smiles. I waved back, but Lucy kept her head down until they were out of sight.
"This is so much more fun than the beach, don't you think Lucy?" I teased.
She squeezed her wrap tighter and made another blush but said nothing in response. We had been walking for about an hour by now and the sun was really starting to heat up again, despite the stiff breeze. There was no shade on the boardwalks, and we weren't wearing sandals either. So, I started to look for some place to get indoors and take a break from the heat. An opportunity presented itself when we came to a large bait shop which looked to be the half-way point around the bay.
There was a huge alligator hanging out front that I guess some local had recently caught. We saw a family getting a picture in front of it and I asked Lucy if she wanted to take one. She blanched and rushed inside before the family noticed her.
Inside, it was even bigger than it looked from the outside. But most importantly, it was air conditioned. The bait shop sold more than just bait. In fact, it had everything a fisherman could possibly need. There were rows and rows of fishing poles, nets, and all kinds of bait, both real and plastic.
Lucy followed nervously behind me, keeping a close eye out for other shoppers. But I was temporarily mesmerized by all the wares. There was a whole department with nothing but boating supplies, and even a few whole boats for sale. On one wall, the back end of a small commercial fishing trawler had been turned into a display. It had rigging, like a crane, sticking right out of the wall with nets and buoys hanging all around. On the ground below the boat was a store display selling something called "barnacle guard". I only remember it because of all the mermaids on the sign.
"Ahoy! 'ere to drown some worms, are ye?" a voice suddenly caught us off guard. Being underdressed for the occasion, Lucy scurried to hide behind me. It was a grizzled old man whom no one would ever mistake for anything but a fisherman. He looked like he had just returned from a three-month tour of crabbing or something.
Although he had surprised us, he didn't appear like he posed us any threat. He even laughed jovially at his own joke about the worms, then came closer to introduce himself. He walked with crooked steps as if he were on the deck of a boat and not on firm footing.
"Name's 'Dave', most folks call me 'Riviera Dave'. But most folks ‘round here are liars. Fishermen may be born honest, but they get over it, he-he."
He said he was the owner of the bait shop. I shook his hand and introduced myself. "And who's this minnow?" he asked, nodding toward Lucy whose face turned sheer white at the attention.
"This is my little sister," I said, knowing how much it annoyed her when I called her 'little'. "She lost her swimsuit and is feeling a little embarrassed about it. Lucy don't be rude! Say 'hi' to Mr. Riviera Dave."
...wait a minute...wasn't the guy at the surf shop named Riviera Dave?...I looked more closely at the man and saw more than a passing familiarity, especially in his facial features. And they both had long, unkempt hair….But this Dave was definitely older than the last Dave we met....or was he?
One thing they had in common: no concept of personal space. When Lucy offered her hand in greeting, he shook it, then drew her out from behind me without letting go. "No need to be bashful, Lucy. I've lost me own swimsuit more than once. Storms come - can't be helped. You gotta roll with it. Besides, there's nothing that would shock ol' Dave at my age. He-he. What's this?" he asked, rubbing her smooth hand - quite a contrast to his own calloused one.
"Got us a lubber, eh? Or are ye part mermaid? Wouldn't be the first o' them to swim into old Dave's net. Com'ere, I'll show you googans a thing or two. If you're gonna be drownin’ worms in my bay, you ought to at least know how to tie a proper sailor's knot."
He laughed again at his repeat, and still lame, worm joke as he led us over to a counter and started pulling out several different colors and sizes of spooled rope. Lucy tacked closely to the counter, happy to have a little extra coverage. Her breasts were somewhat concealed beneath the bunched-up fabric where the sarong tied in front. Her greater concern at the moment was her lower half. Leaning against the counter protected her in front. But from behind, her ripe backside shone clearly through for anyone who would happen by.
"Now, this here is a bowline. It's almost as easy as a slipknot. See?"
He demonstrated a few times then had us try. I picked up the technique pretty easily, but Lucy was having more trouble. I didn't help that she kept looking over her shoulder to make sure no one had snuck up behind us and was staring at her barely covered tan-free bottom.
After showing us a couple of knots, he moved on to bends. That's what you use to tie two separate pieces of rope together. The bends were a little trickier, but I was able to reliably do the basic ones after a few practice attempts.
"The last type are hitches. Use them to hitch up to a piling. These are the most important. You mess up your hitch, your boat may decide to go a sailin' off without you, he-he. But if you do it right, hitches will never let you down. I don't have a cleat here, but maybe miss Lucy wouldn't mind filling in. I suppose a handcuff hitch would be fitting."
He deftly twisted the rope until it looked like mouse ears then told Lucy to stick her hands into the two equal sized openings he had created. As soon as her hands were through, he yanked the loose ends with one hand. In a flash, the loops sinched tightly around her wrists, pulling her hands close together. She yelped in surprise as Mr. Dave raised the knot high above his head. Lucy was lifted completely off the ground by her wrists. With her arms extended, she flopped and flailed uselessly like a fish caught on a line. But the knot held firm. Her sarong slipped and threatened to fall completely off her body, but even then, she was so pumped up on adrenaline that she wouldn't stop flailing.
A bemused expression on his face, Mr. Dave continued to hold the incapacitated girl aloft with a single strong arm. He looked her up and down like was appraising his latest strung-up catch.
"What do you think, mate? Is she a keeper? Sure does got some fight in 'er!"
Lucy was simply dying of embarrassment at being treated like nothing more than a piece of meat. Her sarong had continued to slip, and her cute pink nipples were now peeking out above the top. But she couldn’t fix it because her hands were secured high above her head. I let her squirm a few seconds more. Then I declared, in my most genuine sailor's voice, that she was too scrawny, and that Mr. Dave should toss her back to let her grow a few more seasons.
He agreed, saying she would definitely make someone a fine meal someday. Then he mercifully let go of the rope with a hearty laugh. With a blush, she rushed to readjust her cover-up so that she was no longer flashing her naked chest. Then she desperately grappled at the knot until it worked its way loose and released her wrists.
Overhead a ship's bell gonged, and Sailor Dave excused himself to go assist another customer. I had genuinely enjoyed learning how to tie the different types of knots. But as soon as he was out of sight, Lucy asked if we could please go back to the beach now. She claimed she was getting bored, but I could read the truth of the matter all over her body. When it came to her little diamond factory, nothing on the beach had come close to what I had already been able to accomplish today.
No chance was I going to let this opportunity pass by letting her go back to the beach. My plan was to keep heading east until we reached my ultimate destination: Riviera Pier! But I wasn't about to tell her that! Better to keep hope alive.
"I'll tell you what. Since you've been such a good sport, I'll only make you perform one more task. Then we can leave. When Mr. Dave gets back, I dare you to ask him your bikini wax question! Don't forget to give him a nice, good look down there, too."
Her eyes fluttered and she got real quiet. I had used this particular challenge several times by now. But it hadn't yet failed to be effective. I think it worked so well because her audience was always different, and she got so embarrassed talking about something so personal and intimate with near strangers.
When Sailor Dave returned, he asked if we needed help finding anything. I apologized, telling him we didn't have much spending money and, to be honest, we had only come in to take advantage of the air conditioning of his store. He didn't mind a bit and told us we were welcome anytime. And if there was anything we needed help with, just ask. That was Lucy's cue.
She stepped up as bravely as she could manage in such as skimpy outfit and, after a gulp to tamp down her nerves, began speaking. "Um, Mr. Dave, sir? There is something you could help me with."
When he pivoted to face her, he somehow ended up almost on top of her. You could say he was looming, but not in a threatening way. He was still smiling light-heartedly. I think he just had no second thoughts about invading her personal space. But even then, Lucy couldn't help but to take a step back.
"My friend Alexandra says girls are supposed to get a bikini wax to hide their hairs from poking out. But I don't want to get it because she said it's super painful. W...what do you think? Do I really need one?"
Looking around one last time to make sure no other shoppers were around, she untied her sarong and held it open, flashing her naked body for the first time in the store. Mr. Dave let out a long low whistle, so loud it could have signaled nearby ships. He took a crooked step forward and she backed further away. She was up against the trawling display with the big boat and almost tripped on the netting. But she managed to keep her wrap open to his now leering gaze.
"We'll, I always say my store sells everything under the sun. And I will help however I can, but…a bikini wax, bah!" he spat out in disgust, "bikini waxes are only for California yuppies and dirty Brazilians.”
He thought for a second, studying her naked form, then seemed to make up his mind. “Way I see it, there's only one real way to take care of hair. And that's with a damn-fine straight razor. No wax could ever match what a few lashes with a strop can do. I have just the thing."
Neither Lucy nor I knew what a strop was. I'm pretty sure she heard it as "a few lashes with a strap" and started to shake in fear. It's a long story, but like most girls her age, she understandably hated getting spanked.
Mr. Dave misinterpreted her panic as fear of the razor blade. And I guess he decided she would need further incapacitation for the procedure. He grabbed a coil of rope off the ground and when he started his approach, she looked like she wanted to flee. But his crooked gait made it hard to judge where he was coming from and where she should flee to.
She took one step back and to her right, then changed her mind and turned the other direction. This time, her foot got tangled and she had to grab the wall of netting behind her to keep from losing her balance. When she did so, her cloth wrap fluttered to the ground leaving her completely naked. She hesitated, torn between the need to get untangled and an acute desire to preserve her modesty.
Her hesitation was her downfall as Mr. Dave descended upon her. With all the skill of a thousand practiced knots, he used a short length of rope to instantly lash her left hand to the net with an unbreakable bend. He grabbed a larger coil and threw it over a functional pully that was hanging from the back of the trawler display right above them.
"Now I saw how you struggled in that handcuff hitch. I gotta make sure you stay nice and still, so you don't get cut, hear?"
Lucy did not, in fact, hear. She was in a total panic mode. If she had remained calm, she might have found a way to escape, but her brain still hadn't processed why her left hand wouldn’t budge from the netting. It didn't help that her colorful sarong had fallen completely off her and was lying in a heap on the ground. She reached up with her right hand to try and shake free whatever was restricting her left. But it was a futile effort. The grizzled old sailor did not make a knot lightly.
Meanwhile, Sailor Dave had already moved on to her left foot. He lassoed her at the ankle with the longer hanging rope then deftly made another loop part way up. In a flash he had it around her upper thigh and somehow secured it to itself with a bend. The new loop collapsed upon itself when he heaved on the other end that had been threaded through the pully. The whole thing only took a couple seconds. Suddenly, Lucy's left foot was yanked off the ground. She yelped as her left knee was forced to fold in half and her left foot was sinched up tightly to her thigh.
But he didn't stop there. Pulling with a smooth motion, he kept lifting until her entire left leg was hiked up to about shoulder height. Her left leg and left hand were now both incapacitated. She instinctively threw her right hand out to catch her fall, but she didn’t fall. Instead, she dangled sideways, her torso parallel to the ground. Disoriented for a second she scrambled with her one free foot. Finally, stretching her right leg straight down at a ninety-degree angle from her body, her toes barely grazed the slippery floor.
"That'll hold," said Mr. Dave with satisfaction. "Lemme get the shaving kit. I'll be right back."
It became immediately apparent the wrap was never meant to act as a complete outfit. With only a tie in front, it draped down her body like a curtain. With every wind gust, it fluttered out behind her like a cape, leaving her entire body on display. And unfortunately, today was the windiest day so far. I think a storm front was rolling in or something. She had to resort to holding her sarong closed with one hand down low as we walked. But even with it wrapped around her, from behind I could still see her entire ripe bottom through the thin material. It would be obvious to anyone within twenty feet of her that she was naked underneath her wrap.
Beyond the end of resort maintenance, the beach started to change. The sand was covered in seaweed that had washed ashore and it was rockier. I guess that's what happens when you don't comb the beach clean every day for the sake of tourists. There were tough little patches of grass clinging desperately to the loose soil and I saw lots of new wildlife that I hadn't seen before.
Tiny crabs darted from pool to pool, picking through moss and algae, and colorful lizards were sunning themselves on flat rocks. The lizards darted away whenever we got close. Their actions reminded me to keep an eye out for snakes!
While I was having a blast exploring this new ecosystem, Lucy was less enthusiastic about our excursion. She walked along the shore eyeing the still crystal-clear water enviously. Even though I had forbidden her from swimming, she looked ready to flee to the safety of the water if anyone dared to come too close to us. But we encountered no one on the first part of our journey.
The beach abruptly ended as the shore curved off to the north. Here the water looked deeper and murkier. Left with no other choice, we turned and followed the rocky shore to the north until we came to the end of a rickety wooden boardwalk with an old, weathered sign officially welcoming us to Skipper's Bay.
Following the boardwalk, we started to see docks extending far out into the water. The docks branched off at regular intervals and had boats attached to them. The further we walked, the nicer the boats got. There were a few boats advertising guided deep sea fishing outings and other sport fishing tours. But I guessed the fishermen liked to leave out early, because there were lots of empty parking stalls on the docks.
Eventually the boardwalk doubled in width, then doubled again as we made our way around the bay. They clearly took better care of it here and we didn’t have to worry so much about getting splinters in our bare feet. At one point we did see a boat with some men getting ready to depart. They all turned and looked when they saw us. They waved across the water with huge smiles. I waved back, but Lucy kept her head down until they were out of sight.
"This is so much more fun than the beach, don't you think Lucy?" I teased.
She squeezed her wrap tighter and made another blush but said nothing in response. We had been walking for about an hour by now and the sun was really starting to heat up again, despite the stiff breeze. There was no shade on the boardwalks, and we weren't wearing sandals either. So, I started to look for some place to get indoors and take a break from the heat. An opportunity presented itself when we came to a large bait shop which looked to be the half-way point around the bay.
There was a huge alligator hanging out front that I guess some local had recently caught. We saw a family getting a picture in front of it and I asked Lucy if she wanted to take one. She blanched and rushed inside before the family noticed her.
Inside, it was even bigger than it looked from the outside. But most importantly, it was air conditioned. The bait shop sold more than just bait. In fact, it had everything a fisherman could possibly need. There were rows and rows of fishing poles, nets, and all kinds of bait, both real and plastic.
Lucy followed nervously behind me, keeping a close eye out for other shoppers. But I was temporarily mesmerized by all the wares. There was a whole department with nothing but boating supplies, and even a few whole boats for sale. On one wall, the back end of a small commercial fishing trawler had been turned into a display. It had rigging, like a crane, sticking right out of the wall with nets and buoys hanging all around. On the ground below the boat was a store display selling something called "barnacle guard". I only remember it because of all the mermaids on the sign.
"Ahoy! 'ere to drown some worms, are ye?" a voice suddenly caught us off guard. Being underdressed for the occasion, Lucy scurried to hide behind me. It was a grizzled old man whom no one would ever mistake for anything but a fisherman. He looked like he had just returned from a three-month tour of crabbing or something.
Although he had surprised us, he didn't appear like he posed us any threat. He even laughed jovially at his own joke about the worms, then came closer to introduce himself. He walked with crooked steps as if he were on the deck of a boat and not on firm footing.
"Name's 'Dave', most folks call me 'Riviera Dave'. But most folks ‘round here are liars. Fishermen may be born honest, but they get over it, he-he."
He said he was the owner of the bait shop. I shook his hand and introduced myself. "And who's this minnow?" he asked, nodding toward Lucy whose face turned sheer white at the attention.
"This is my little sister," I said, knowing how much it annoyed her when I called her 'little'. "She lost her swimsuit and is feeling a little embarrassed about it. Lucy don't be rude! Say 'hi' to Mr. Riviera Dave."
...wait a minute...wasn't the guy at the surf shop named Riviera Dave?...I looked more closely at the man and saw more than a passing familiarity, especially in his facial features. And they both had long, unkempt hair….But this Dave was definitely older than the last Dave we met....or was he?
One thing they had in common: no concept of personal space. When Lucy offered her hand in greeting, he shook it, then drew her out from behind me without letting go. "No need to be bashful, Lucy. I've lost me own swimsuit more than once. Storms come - can't be helped. You gotta roll with it. Besides, there's nothing that would shock ol' Dave at my age. He-he. What's this?" he asked, rubbing her smooth hand - quite a contrast to his own calloused one.
"Got us a lubber, eh? Or are ye part mermaid? Wouldn't be the first o' them to swim into old Dave's net. Com'ere, I'll show you googans a thing or two. If you're gonna be drownin’ worms in my bay, you ought to at least know how to tie a proper sailor's knot."
He laughed again at his repeat, and still lame, worm joke as he led us over to a counter and started pulling out several different colors and sizes of spooled rope. Lucy tacked closely to the counter, happy to have a little extra coverage. Her breasts were somewhat concealed beneath the bunched-up fabric where the sarong tied in front. Her greater concern at the moment was her lower half. Leaning against the counter protected her in front. But from behind, her ripe backside shone clearly through for anyone who would happen by.
"Now, this here is a bowline. It's almost as easy as a slipknot. See?"
He demonstrated a few times then had us try. I picked up the technique pretty easily, but Lucy was having more trouble. I didn't help that she kept looking over her shoulder to make sure no one had snuck up behind us and was staring at her barely covered tan-free bottom.
After showing us a couple of knots, he moved on to bends. That's what you use to tie two separate pieces of rope together. The bends were a little trickier, but I was able to reliably do the basic ones after a few practice attempts.
"The last type are hitches. Use them to hitch up to a piling. These are the most important. You mess up your hitch, your boat may decide to go a sailin' off without you, he-he. But if you do it right, hitches will never let you down. I don't have a cleat here, but maybe miss Lucy wouldn't mind filling in. I suppose a handcuff hitch would be fitting."
He deftly twisted the rope until it looked like mouse ears then told Lucy to stick her hands into the two equal sized openings he had created. As soon as her hands were through, he yanked the loose ends with one hand. In a flash, the loops sinched tightly around her wrists, pulling her hands close together. She yelped in surprise as Mr. Dave raised the knot high above his head. Lucy was lifted completely off the ground by her wrists. With her arms extended, she flopped and flailed uselessly like a fish caught on a line. But the knot held firm. Her sarong slipped and threatened to fall completely off her body, but even then, she was so pumped up on adrenaline that she wouldn't stop flailing.
A bemused expression on his face, Mr. Dave continued to hold the incapacitated girl aloft with a single strong arm. He looked her up and down like was appraising his latest strung-up catch.
"What do you think, mate? Is she a keeper? Sure does got some fight in 'er!"
Lucy was simply dying of embarrassment at being treated like nothing more than a piece of meat. Her sarong had continued to slip, and her cute pink nipples were now peeking out above the top. But she couldn’t fix it because her hands were secured high above her head. I let her squirm a few seconds more. Then I declared, in my most genuine sailor's voice, that she was too scrawny, and that Mr. Dave should toss her back to let her grow a few more seasons.
He agreed, saying she would definitely make someone a fine meal someday. Then he mercifully let go of the rope with a hearty laugh. With a blush, she rushed to readjust her cover-up so that she was no longer flashing her naked chest. Then she desperately grappled at the knot until it worked its way loose and released her wrists.
Overhead a ship's bell gonged, and Sailor Dave excused himself to go assist another customer. I had genuinely enjoyed learning how to tie the different types of knots. But as soon as he was out of sight, Lucy asked if we could please go back to the beach now. She claimed she was getting bored, but I could read the truth of the matter all over her body. When it came to her little diamond factory, nothing on the beach had come close to what I had already been able to accomplish today.
No chance was I going to let this opportunity pass by letting her go back to the beach. My plan was to keep heading east until we reached my ultimate destination: Riviera Pier! But I wasn't about to tell her that! Better to keep hope alive.
"I'll tell you what. Since you've been such a good sport, I'll only make you perform one more task. Then we can leave. When Mr. Dave gets back, I dare you to ask him your bikini wax question! Don't forget to give him a nice, good look down there, too."
Her eyes fluttered and she got real quiet. I had used this particular challenge several times by now. But it hadn't yet failed to be effective. I think it worked so well because her audience was always different, and she got so embarrassed talking about something so personal and intimate with near strangers.
When Sailor Dave returned, he asked if we needed help finding anything. I apologized, telling him we didn't have much spending money and, to be honest, we had only come in to take advantage of the air conditioning of his store. He didn't mind a bit and told us we were welcome anytime. And if there was anything we needed help with, just ask. That was Lucy's cue.
She stepped up as bravely as she could manage in such as skimpy outfit and, after a gulp to tamp down her nerves, began speaking. "Um, Mr. Dave, sir? There is something you could help me with."
When he pivoted to face her, he somehow ended up almost on top of her. You could say he was looming, but not in a threatening way. He was still smiling light-heartedly. I think he just had no second thoughts about invading her personal space. But even then, Lucy couldn't help but to take a step back.
"My friend Alexandra says girls are supposed to get a bikini wax to hide their hairs from poking out. But I don't want to get it because she said it's super painful. W...what do you think? Do I really need one?"
Looking around one last time to make sure no other shoppers were around, she untied her sarong and held it open, flashing her naked body for the first time in the store. Mr. Dave let out a long low whistle, so loud it could have signaled nearby ships. He took a crooked step forward and she backed further away. She was up against the trawling display with the big boat and almost tripped on the netting. But she managed to keep her wrap open to his now leering gaze.
"We'll, I always say my store sells everything under the sun. And I will help however I can, but…a bikini wax, bah!" he spat out in disgust, "bikini waxes are only for California yuppies and dirty Brazilians.”
He thought for a second, studying her naked form, then seemed to make up his mind. “Way I see it, there's only one real way to take care of hair. And that's with a damn-fine straight razor. No wax could ever match what a few lashes with a strop can do. I have just the thing."
Neither Lucy nor I knew what a strop was. I'm pretty sure she heard it as "a few lashes with a strap" and started to shake in fear. It's a long story, but like most girls her age, she understandably hated getting spanked.
Mr. Dave misinterpreted her panic as fear of the razor blade. And I guess he decided she would need further incapacitation for the procedure. He grabbed a coil of rope off the ground and when he started his approach, she looked like she wanted to flee. But his crooked gait made it hard to judge where he was coming from and where she should flee to.
She took one step back and to her right, then changed her mind and turned the other direction. This time, her foot got tangled and she had to grab the wall of netting behind her to keep from losing her balance. When she did so, her cloth wrap fluttered to the ground leaving her completely naked. She hesitated, torn between the need to get untangled and an acute desire to preserve her modesty.
Her hesitation was her downfall as Mr. Dave descended upon her. With all the skill of a thousand practiced knots, he used a short length of rope to instantly lash her left hand to the net with an unbreakable bend. He grabbed a larger coil and threw it over a functional pully that was hanging from the back of the trawler display right above them.
"Now I saw how you struggled in that handcuff hitch. I gotta make sure you stay nice and still, so you don't get cut, hear?"
Lucy did not, in fact, hear. She was in a total panic mode. If she had remained calm, she might have found a way to escape, but her brain still hadn't processed why her left hand wouldn’t budge from the netting. It didn't help that her colorful sarong had fallen completely off her and was lying in a heap on the ground. She reached up with her right hand to try and shake free whatever was restricting her left. But it was a futile effort. The grizzled old sailor did not make a knot lightly.
Meanwhile, Sailor Dave had already moved on to her left foot. He lassoed her at the ankle with the longer hanging rope then deftly made another loop part way up. In a flash he had it around her upper thigh and somehow secured it to itself with a bend. The new loop collapsed upon itself when he heaved on the other end that had been threaded through the pully. The whole thing only took a couple seconds. Suddenly, Lucy's left foot was yanked off the ground. She yelped as her left knee was forced to fold in half and her left foot was sinched up tightly to her thigh.
But he didn't stop there. Pulling with a smooth motion, he kept lifting until her entire left leg was hiked up to about shoulder height. Her left leg and left hand were now both incapacitated. She instinctively threw her right hand out to catch her fall, but she didn’t fall. Instead, she dangled sideways, her torso parallel to the ground. Disoriented for a second she scrambled with her one free foot. Finally, stretching her right leg straight down at a ninety-degree angle from her body, her toes barely grazed the slippery floor.
"That'll hold," said Mr. Dave with satisfaction. "Lemme get the shaving kit. I'll be right back."
- perseus
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Re: Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (new 1/3)
That diamond factory must really be producing now! This is quite the little cliffhanger here. The wait (however short) for the next chapter is going to kill me .
I do really love how quickly these instalments are coming out and the quality excellent every time! Fantastic work!
I do really love how quickly these instalments are coming out and the quality excellent every time! Fantastic work!
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Re: Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (new 1/3)
I agree with perseus - the wait for the next installment is killing me....
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Re: Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (new 1/3)
Maybe I should slow down and give readers time to breathe between updates.perseus wrote: ↑Wed Jan 04, 2023 7:18 pm That diamond factory must really be producing now! This is quite the little cliffhanger here. The wait (however short) for the next chapter is going to kill me .
I do really love how quickly these instalments are coming out and the quality excellent every time! Fantastic work!
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Re: Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (new 1/3)
No don't slow down now! I've caught my breath and am ready for the next one
But in all seriousness, the swimsuit saga has definitely been with the wait. It's been an absolute joy to read.
But in all seriousness, the swimsuit saga has definitely been with the wait. It's been an absolute joy to read.
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Re: Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (new 1/3)
Absolutely don't slow down!! Lucy is a dynamite character and can't wait for her next diamond.
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Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (Part 10)
Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (Part 10)
Had she been thinking clearly, she would have focused her energies, and her right hand, on untying one of the knots immobilizing her. Surely with a calm, concerted effort, she could have figured out how to get herself loose. But stricken with panic at finding herself in a naked predicament in a public place, her mind demanded she give the sudden loss of clothing her full attention.
With her left hand attached uselessly to the netting above her, she only had one hand free to try and get to her sarong. She stretched her right hand as far as she could but was simply too high off the ground to reach it. The white and red cover-up, her only article of clothing, was lying in a heap just below her naked dangling body, almost taunting her.
Desperately, she thrashed her whole body again and again in an attempt to somehow extend or drop herself a little lower. She looked like some sexy little mermaid who had just traded her tail in for human legs. But instead of meeting some handsome prince and living happily ever after, she had managed to get her naked body entangled in a fisherman's net. A spotlight had formerly shined upon the lovely mermaids advertising barnacle guard. They were now overshadowed by the newest attraction at Riviera Dave's Bait Shop: the naked catch of the day!
Her flat stomach sucked in and out partially from the exertion and partially from her panicked out-of-control breathing. If she wasn't careful, she was going to hyperventilate. She had to keep pushing her blonde hair out of her face with her one free hand. But hanging at an awkward sideways angle, every time she looked down to spot the sarong, some unruly strands would tumble wildly out of control. She grunted in frustration after her vision got obscured one too many times. That girl really needed a hairband or something.
Every muscle on her fit body flexed with effort. But she was no match for Sailor Dave's knots and her clothing prize remained just out of reach. Her little bare toes were too cute in the way they scrambled for purchase on the linoleum floor. Surely, at some point, she would get the bright idea to use her right foot to grasp the sarong with her toes and lift it up to her hand, I thought. I decided I had better act now and remove the temptation before she figured that one out.
But before I made my move, I paused to admire her alluring naked form from a distance. Her right foot was stretched into a point, like a dancer poised mid-pirouette. The calf and thigh muscles of her right leg were utter perfection. She had taken up jogging as a hobby in the hopes of making the track team someday and her young, classically sculpted legs were a natural result.
Her left leg was folded in half by the nefarious rope, but I was still able to appreciate where her legs joined together. As I approached, my gaze remained trained directly between her legs. Her left leg was hiked up above the rest of her sideways body, causing her thighs to be hopelessly spread in a very unladylike fashion. Her unprotected pussy spread open wide as a result, exposing every intimate detail of her developing womanhood.
I had seen more than a few glimpses of her little flower since she began developing down there. So, believe it or not, I was actually more enthralled by a different opening at that particular moment. Despite all the times I had seen my sister naked, I couldn't recall ever seeing her with her legs spread. And for the first time in my life, I saw her cute little wrinkled asshole peeking out at me. Damn if that girl didn't somehow manage to even make an asshole look adorable!
Lucy's fighting spirit faded. Either she was tiring, or she was coming to accept the futility of the struggle. She drooped lifeless for a moment with her right hand hanging straight down in defeat. She allowed all her muscles to relax, only her right leg remained flexed, keeping her big toe anchored to the ground to reduce the dizzying sway. Hanging sideways, the outer curve of her perky right boob was slightly lower than the rest of her still heaving chest. Her pink nipples stood proud and stiff, another humiliating reminder of her total nakedness. And of course, even relaxed, her pink flower sat fully bloomed and on display.
Her wild eyes perked up when she saw me approaching. It was as if she had temporarily forgotten about me and was relieved to be reminded of my existence. Her cheeks were flushed, either from so much exertion with her head almost upside-down or from embarrassment at being stuck hanging naked; probably some mixture of both. Then she noticed I was staring between her legs, and quickly moved to cover her nakedness with the only thing she had left to use, her free hand. She held her hand clamped tightly over her pussy in a desperate attempt to preserve a tiny scrap of modesty. This new pose somehow made her look even more humiliated than before.
"Mikey, quick! Get me down! He's going to hurrrt meeeee!" she squealed.
"Now, Goosey," I admonished, "You heard Mr. Dave, he's just going to help you get a nice, close shave. Don't you worry. I wouldn't let him hurt you."
Any fleeting thoughts that I was here to help were dashed. But her disappointment turned back into hope when she saw me pick up her sarong and shake it out.
"Yes!" she cried, "Quick! At least put my wrap back on before he comes back."
"Your wrap?" I said, teasingly. "I believe it was our souvenir money that paid for this stupid thing. So, that would make it our wrap."
For the second time in a matter of seconds, her hopes were dashed, and even incapacitated as she was, I could still detect her naked shoulders slumping in defeat.
"I will make you a deal, though," I offered in trade, "you be on your best behavior when Mr. Dave gets back. Hold real still and do whatever he asks, ok? And when he's done, I will consider letting you wear your wrap for a while. Deal?"
She nodded her head vigorously. What else choice did she have?
I patted her on the head with a patronizing "good girl". As I started to fold up her sarong, an extremely small movement caught my eye, and I looked down to investigate. The fingers of her right hand were making the tiniest little motion. It was so subtle I might have missed it if I didn't know what I was looking at. But my practiced eye could tell immediately that Lucy…was pleasuring herself! It's kind of a long story, but I had watched her masturbate before, more than once, and I recognized her technique, no matter how covert.
"Lucy Marie Jenkins," I chastised with my face screwed up in disapproval, "you know you're not allowed to play with yourself while you're in the middle of a dare!"
"Mikey, no!" she cried as she watched me walk over to the rope counter, "it was an accident. Please!"
"Accident or no, you just can't be trusted." I said with a disappointed shake of my head. I could tell she wanted to argue, but she had no leg to stand on. Figuratively, I mean. Technically, she was still standing on one bare leg. Well, more dangling than standing, but you get the point. Using one of the new knots Sailor Dave had just taught me, I made a loop in the rope and walked up to her.
She tensed up initially, looking like she was going to try and resist. But she was trapped with no way to run away and very few options. I held the rope up menacingly like I was going to spank her bare leg with it if she didn't comply. I didn't even have to go through with the threat. She yelped then immediately held out her one remaining free wrist in total acquiescence.
I tightened the loop around her wrist then looked around for the perfect spot on the net to immobilize her hand as punishment. I decided, for symmetry, to extend her arm straight out beside her. Now, if her two hands were hands on a clock, she was signaling 9:00! Each of her limbs were more or less pointing in a different direction that way.
With both arms now outstretched, it left her armpits open and unprotected. With no way to fight back, I couldn’t resist to send my hands sliding down her arms to her sides. She let out an uncontrolled giggle at my brief impromptu tickling. But then she momentarily forgot herself, closed her eyes, and shivered in delight when I let my fingers roam onto the swell of her breasts and gently graze her engorged nipples.
"Wait, where are you going?" she asked in surprise when she opened her eyes again only to find me walking away from the clearing. I turned back to look at her. Even from some distance away, I could see a new sheen of slick moisture coating her naked pussy mound. Her body's little factory was finally up to temperature. A little more pressure and she would be churning out the most spectacular diamonds in no time.
I almost thought it too much to leave her hanging alone and naked like that with her body heating up and all her most intimate little girl parts spread and exposed. But I was on a roll. I had to listen to my own creative juices on the matter. "I'm just going to do some browsing until Mr. Dave gets back with his kit. You'll be fine," I replied.
Turning with a wink, I added, "Just hang in there!" She didn't laugh at my joke. She looked like she wanted to whine and stomp her foot, but instead could only resume struggling against her bonds with a greater urgency.
"NO, MIKEEEE! Please? You can't leave me here!" She cried out in real alarm when I was almost out of sight, "What if someone else comes along and sees...sees my....everything!"
"You should have thought of that before you broke the rules and started playing with yourself." I replied matter-of-factly, "just give them your brightest Lucy smile in greeting. They'll be so distracted by you flashing your smile, maybe they won't even notice that you're flashing everything else!"
The last thing I heard as I walked out of range was a steady high-pitched "Mikeeeeeeeeeee" until it was drowned out by the pleasant store music coming from some speakers overhead.
Had she been thinking clearly, she would have focused her energies, and her right hand, on untying one of the knots immobilizing her. Surely with a calm, concerted effort, she could have figured out how to get herself loose. But stricken with panic at finding herself in a naked predicament in a public place, her mind demanded she give the sudden loss of clothing her full attention.
With her left hand attached uselessly to the netting above her, she only had one hand free to try and get to her sarong. She stretched her right hand as far as she could but was simply too high off the ground to reach it. The white and red cover-up, her only article of clothing, was lying in a heap just below her naked dangling body, almost taunting her.
Desperately, she thrashed her whole body again and again in an attempt to somehow extend or drop herself a little lower. She looked like some sexy little mermaid who had just traded her tail in for human legs. But instead of meeting some handsome prince and living happily ever after, she had managed to get her naked body entangled in a fisherman's net. A spotlight had formerly shined upon the lovely mermaids advertising barnacle guard. They were now overshadowed by the newest attraction at Riviera Dave's Bait Shop: the naked catch of the day!
Her flat stomach sucked in and out partially from the exertion and partially from her panicked out-of-control breathing. If she wasn't careful, she was going to hyperventilate. She had to keep pushing her blonde hair out of her face with her one free hand. But hanging at an awkward sideways angle, every time she looked down to spot the sarong, some unruly strands would tumble wildly out of control. She grunted in frustration after her vision got obscured one too many times. That girl really needed a hairband or something.
Every muscle on her fit body flexed with effort. But she was no match for Sailor Dave's knots and her clothing prize remained just out of reach. Her little bare toes were too cute in the way they scrambled for purchase on the linoleum floor. Surely, at some point, she would get the bright idea to use her right foot to grasp the sarong with her toes and lift it up to her hand, I thought. I decided I had better act now and remove the temptation before she figured that one out.
But before I made my move, I paused to admire her alluring naked form from a distance. Her right foot was stretched into a point, like a dancer poised mid-pirouette. The calf and thigh muscles of her right leg were utter perfection. She had taken up jogging as a hobby in the hopes of making the track team someday and her young, classically sculpted legs were a natural result.
Her left leg was folded in half by the nefarious rope, but I was still able to appreciate where her legs joined together. As I approached, my gaze remained trained directly between her legs. Her left leg was hiked up above the rest of her sideways body, causing her thighs to be hopelessly spread in a very unladylike fashion. Her unprotected pussy spread open wide as a result, exposing every intimate detail of her developing womanhood.
I had seen more than a few glimpses of her little flower since she began developing down there. So, believe it or not, I was actually more enthralled by a different opening at that particular moment. Despite all the times I had seen my sister naked, I couldn't recall ever seeing her with her legs spread. And for the first time in my life, I saw her cute little wrinkled asshole peeking out at me. Damn if that girl didn't somehow manage to even make an asshole look adorable!
Lucy's fighting spirit faded. Either she was tiring, or she was coming to accept the futility of the struggle. She drooped lifeless for a moment with her right hand hanging straight down in defeat. She allowed all her muscles to relax, only her right leg remained flexed, keeping her big toe anchored to the ground to reduce the dizzying sway. Hanging sideways, the outer curve of her perky right boob was slightly lower than the rest of her still heaving chest. Her pink nipples stood proud and stiff, another humiliating reminder of her total nakedness. And of course, even relaxed, her pink flower sat fully bloomed and on display.
Her wild eyes perked up when she saw me approaching. It was as if she had temporarily forgotten about me and was relieved to be reminded of my existence. Her cheeks were flushed, either from so much exertion with her head almost upside-down or from embarrassment at being stuck hanging naked; probably some mixture of both. Then she noticed I was staring between her legs, and quickly moved to cover her nakedness with the only thing she had left to use, her free hand. She held her hand clamped tightly over her pussy in a desperate attempt to preserve a tiny scrap of modesty. This new pose somehow made her look even more humiliated than before.
"Mikey, quick! Get me down! He's going to hurrrt meeeee!" she squealed.
"Now, Goosey," I admonished, "You heard Mr. Dave, he's just going to help you get a nice, close shave. Don't you worry. I wouldn't let him hurt you."
Any fleeting thoughts that I was here to help were dashed. But her disappointment turned back into hope when she saw me pick up her sarong and shake it out.
"Yes!" she cried, "Quick! At least put my wrap back on before he comes back."
"Your wrap?" I said, teasingly. "I believe it was our souvenir money that paid for this stupid thing. So, that would make it our wrap."
For the second time in a matter of seconds, her hopes were dashed, and even incapacitated as she was, I could still detect her naked shoulders slumping in defeat.
"I will make you a deal, though," I offered in trade, "you be on your best behavior when Mr. Dave gets back. Hold real still and do whatever he asks, ok? And when he's done, I will consider letting you wear your wrap for a while. Deal?"
She nodded her head vigorously. What else choice did she have?
I patted her on the head with a patronizing "good girl". As I started to fold up her sarong, an extremely small movement caught my eye, and I looked down to investigate. The fingers of her right hand were making the tiniest little motion. It was so subtle I might have missed it if I didn't know what I was looking at. But my practiced eye could tell immediately that Lucy…was pleasuring herself! It's kind of a long story, but I had watched her masturbate before, more than once, and I recognized her technique, no matter how covert.
"Lucy Marie Jenkins," I chastised with my face screwed up in disapproval, "you know you're not allowed to play with yourself while you're in the middle of a dare!"
"Mikey, no!" she cried as she watched me walk over to the rope counter, "it was an accident. Please!"
"Accident or no, you just can't be trusted." I said with a disappointed shake of my head. I could tell she wanted to argue, but she had no leg to stand on. Figuratively, I mean. Technically, she was still standing on one bare leg. Well, more dangling than standing, but you get the point. Using one of the new knots Sailor Dave had just taught me, I made a loop in the rope and walked up to her.
She tensed up initially, looking like she was going to try and resist. But she was trapped with no way to run away and very few options. I held the rope up menacingly like I was going to spank her bare leg with it if she didn't comply. I didn't even have to go through with the threat. She yelped then immediately held out her one remaining free wrist in total acquiescence.
I tightened the loop around her wrist then looked around for the perfect spot on the net to immobilize her hand as punishment. I decided, for symmetry, to extend her arm straight out beside her. Now, if her two hands were hands on a clock, she was signaling 9:00! Each of her limbs were more or less pointing in a different direction that way.
With both arms now outstretched, it left her armpits open and unprotected. With no way to fight back, I couldn’t resist to send my hands sliding down her arms to her sides. She let out an uncontrolled giggle at my brief impromptu tickling. But then she momentarily forgot herself, closed her eyes, and shivered in delight when I let my fingers roam onto the swell of her breasts and gently graze her engorged nipples.
"Wait, where are you going?" she asked in surprise when she opened her eyes again only to find me walking away from the clearing. I turned back to look at her. Even from some distance away, I could see a new sheen of slick moisture coating her naked pussy mound. Her body's little factory was finally up to temperature. A little more pressure and she would be churning out the most spectacular diamonds in no time.
I almost thought it too much to leave her hanging alone and naked like that with her body heating up and all her most intimate little girl parts spread and exposed. But I was on a roll. I had to listen to my own creative juices on the matter. "I'm just going to do some browsing until Mr. Dave gets back with his kit. You'll be fine," I replied.
Turning with a wink, I added, "Just hang in there!" She didn't laugh at my joke. She looked like she wanted to whine and stomp her foot, but instead could only resume struggling against her bonds with a greater urgency.
"NO, MIKEEEE! Please? You can't leave me here!" She cried out in real alarm when I was almost out of sight, "What if someone else comes along and sees...sees my....everything!"
"You should have thought of that before you broke the rules and started playing with yourself." I replied matter-of-factly, "just give them your brightest Lucy smile in greeting. They'll be so distracted by you flashing your smile, maybe they won't even notice that you're flashing everything else!"
The last thing I heard as I walked out of range was a steady high-pitched "Mikeeeeeeeeeee" until it was drowned out by the pleasant store music coming from some speakers overhead.
Last edited by neverdoubted on Sat Jan 07, 2023 2:11 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (new 1/6)
Now that Mikey's taken a notice of Lucy's a.hole, her most intimate part, I wonder if he plans for her to show if off
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Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (Part 11)
Dare Me - The Lost Swimsuit Saga (Part 11)
I wasn't in the least bit interested in shopping, of course. It was just an excuse to clear her sarong from the area. Instead, I made my way around the department and found a spot in a nearby aisle where I could covertly peek through some shelves unnoticed.
I saw my naked sister still hanging right where I had left her, on display and in the spotlight. She would be very hard to miss were any lucky shopper to happen by. Without me around, she had given up whining and had mostly stopped trying to shake herself free. Forsaken and alone, she only made occasional half-hearted liberation attempts. She would use different muscle groups each time in case some random untried combination held the key to her escape. But each cute flex of her muscles was thwarted by the unyielding ropes holding her fast.
She remained alert the whole time and jumped at every sound, no matter how small. Her wild eyes would look all around trying to identify the source. Her preservation instinct was in high gear and had to be wearing on her poor little nerves. Every motion or sound could mean her demeaning predicament was no longer a secret. It had to be only a matter of time before some lucky shopper found her.
Her attention was drawn to the unfortunate situation between her legs. She was still feeling the effects of the recent manual stimulation down there and her body had responded by producing even more moisture. Unable to use her hands, she instead raised her free leg to temporarily close her thighs. For a moment, she was able to bring her outer pussy lips together. She made a much more demure and innocent sight this way. Her young, slightly plump mound formed into a thin line, curving to disappear between her legs. One of the softest places on her body had to be that adorable little cleft at the very top of her pussy.
Maybe it was the change in position. Maybe lifting her right leg improved blood circulation to her center. Or maybe closing her thighs was able to provide just a tiny amount of pressure and stimulation her sex organs were aching for. Whatever it was, it seemed to help with the throbbing ache between her clenched thighs. She let out a contented sigh at the momentary relief.
Unfortunately, despite her well-tone jogging muscles, keeping her unsupported leg up next to the bound one for more than a few seconds proved impossible. As her strength faltered, she regretfully dropped her right foot back to the ground. Like opening the cover of the world's sexiest book, her outer lips were drawn apart once again. She could hide behind whatever visage she thought would mask her inner struggle from the world. But she could not hide the truth written all over those fleshy inner pages.
Her juicy inner sanctum was shaded in darker pinks and wetness overflowed to spread onto her mound and beyond. The copious amounts of moisture her aroused body was churning out had to go somewhere. Every passing breath of air playing coolly upon her newly moistened skin and overheated flesh and made her squirm anew.
Being utterly incapacitated, she could only thrust her pelvis uselessly to meet the air. The cruel open air responded with nothing more than gentle kisses against her wanton naked sex. Even her stiff nipples were off limits and frustratingly out of her reach.
She twisted and squirmed, trying everything to alleviate the ache in her loins. She worked the muscles of her core in an alluring rippling motion, and I could make out something flexing within the recesses of her feminine folds. I was too far away to get a good look at it, but I wondered if perhaps that was the elusive button I had been theorizing about; the one that operated her diamond factory.
It made sense to me that she would have specialized parts and muscles down there. I mean, As built differently as I was, I was somewhat able to control my own equipment when I was excited (not that it's any of your business). But it was just a theory. I thought maybe I could research it further at the library when we got back from our vacation.
After a rather unproductive session spent squirming and thrusting, she grunted in frustration and paused. She tossed her head to try and clear the hair from her face. That was only a marginally more successful effort. She looked up and wiggled the toes of her bent left leg as if she were trying to improve the blood circulation to her foot. Her leg had been hiked up above her head for some time now and I wondered if she was starting to lose feeling in that extremity.
The rope holding her did not look to have been tightened for cruelty and she did not show any signs of painful distress. Dave was quite effective with his knots, but he was very efficient and did nothing unnecessarily. It wasn't biting into her flesh in any painful way that I could tell. I think she was just uncomfortable from being stuck in the same position for so long.
Her neck also appeared to be fatiguing from the strain of holding up her head in such an awkward position. In between frantic scans for intruders, she would lower her head to rest it on her outstretched arm. But she would jump back to attention when some other phantom sound reached her ears. It was during one of those episodes, a short time later, when her luck ran out and the poor little horny mermaid was finally discovered.
I wasn't in the least bit interested in shopping, of course. It was just an excuse to clear her sarong from the area. Instead, I made my way around the department and found a spot in a nearby aisle where I could covertly peek through some shelves unnoticed.
I saw my naked sister still hanging right where I had left her, on display and in the spotlight. She would be very hard to miss were any lucky shopper to happen by. Without me around, she had given up whining and had mostly stopped trying to shake herself free. Forsaken and alone, she only made occasional half-hearted liberation attempts. She would use different muscle groups each time in case some random untried combination held the key to her escape. But each cute flex of her muscles was thwarted by the unyielding ropes holding her fast.
She remained alert the whole time and jumped at every sound, no matter how small. Her wild eyes would look all around trying to identify the source. Her preservation instinct was in high gear and had to be wearing on her poor little nerves. Every motion or sound could mean her demeaning predicament was no longer a secret. It had to be only a matter of time before some lucky shopper found her.
Her attention was drawn to the unfortunate situation between her legs. She was still feeling the effects of the recent manual stimulation down there and her body had responded by producing even more moisture. Unable to use her hands, she instead raised her free leg to temporarily close her thighs. For a moment, she was able to bring her outer pussy lips together. She made a much more demure and innocent sight this way. Her young, slightly plump mound formed into a thin line, curving to disappear between her legs. One of the softest places on her body had to be that adorable little cleft at the very top of her pussy.
Maybe it was the change in position. Maybe lifting her right leg improved blood circulation to her center. Or maybe closing her thighs was able to provide just a tiny amount of pressure and stimulation her sex organs were aching for. Whatever it was, it seemed to help with the throbbing ache between her clenched thighs. She let out a contented sigh at the momentary relief.
Unfortunately, despite her well-tone jogging muscles, keeping her unsupported leg up next to the bound one for more than a few seconds proved impossible. As her strength faltered, she regretfully dropped her right foot back to the ground. Like opening the cover of the world's sexiest book, her outer lips were drawn apart once again. She could hide behind whatever visage she thought would mask her inner struggle from the world. But she could not hide the truth written all over those fleshy inner pages.
Her juicy inner sanctum was shaded in darker pinks and wetness overflowed to spread onto her mound and beyond. The copious amounts of moisture her aroused body was churning out had to go somewhere. Every passing breath of air playing coolly upon her newly moistened skin and overheated flesh and made her squirm anew.
Being utterly incapacitated, she could only thrust her pelvis uselessly to meet the air. The cruel open air responded with nothing more than gentle kisses against her wanton naked sex. Even her stiff nipples were off limits and frustratingly out of her reach.
She twisted and squirmed, trying everything to alleviate the ache in her loins. She worked the muscles of her core in an alluring rippling motion, and I could make out something flexing within the recesses of her feminine folds. I was too far away to get a good look at it, but I wondered if perhaps that was the elusive button I had been theorizing about; the one that operated her diamond factory.
It made sense to me that she would have specialized parts and muscles down there. I mean, As built differently as I was, I was somewhat able to control my own equipment when I was excited (not that it's any of your business). But it was just a theory. I thought maybe I could research it further at the library when we got back from our vacation.
After a rather unproductive session spent squirming and thrusting, she grunted in frustration and paused. She tossed her head to try and clear the hair from her face. That was only a marginally more successful effort. She looked up and wiggled the toes of her bent left leg as if she were trying to improve the blood circulation to her foot. Her leg had been hiked up above her head for some time now and I wondered if she was starting to lose feeling in that extremity.
The rope holding her did not look to have been tightened for cruelty and she did not show any signs of painful distress. Dave was quite effective with his knots, but he was very efficient and did nothing unnecessarily. It wasn't biting into her flesh in any painful way that I could tell. I think she was just uncomfortable from being stuck in the same position for so long.
Her neck also appeared to be fatiguing from the strain of holding up her head in such an awkward position. In between frantic scans for intruders, she would lower her head to rest it on her outstretched arm. But she would jump back to attention when some other phantom sound reached her ears. It was during one of those episodes, a short time later, when her luck ran out and the poor little horny mermaid was finally discovered.
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