The Last Straw (new 12/20)

[Skylar21]

So now Mary is forced by hunger to public exhibitionism. A great description of her and her gown, and how it reveals her to the other people. Will Mary eventually become aroused through her embarrassment? Will she become resigned to her fate? So many questions. This story is really taking shape!

[TeenFan]

At least one of the male guests of the Soft Pines Motor Inn left that morning with a hard woody. Probably most of them.

[neverdoubted]

Normally, shutting our whole family in a confined space, like a car, for extended periods, would lead to a ruckus. It wouldn't take long for Mary to start singing the latest pop songs with Cindy boisterously joining in on any parts she thought she knew the words to. Bea would be yelling at me over some perceived or imaginary transgression I had supposedly done to her leaving me no choice but to defend myself. Mom would be doing a poor job at keeping the peace between us, and Dad would be yelling at us all to quiet down so he could hear the radio for the top of the hour news.

But so far, this trip had been eerily quiet. The only sound, other than the concerning noises coming from the engine compartment and the girls in the back-back seat chatting softly with each other, had been Mary's sporadic sobbing fits.

I think we were all in shock to officially be on the second day of our family road trip, and Mary still didn't have a stitch of clothing on. How much longer was dad going to let this continue? If you ask me, he had gone a little overboard and was sticking to his guns out of nothing but pride by this point. But who was going to challenge him and advocate for leniency on Mary's behalf? Certainly not I! Mom had tried this morning and only succeeded in winning her daughter permission to wear the skimpiest, see-through slip. And that concession had only lasted until the end of breakfast!

The subdued atmosphere and lack of conversation would have driven me crazy with boredom. But fortunately, I had the entire body of a gorgeous, naked girl to scrutinize and help me pass the time. And boy did I scrutinize!

Without the benefit of clothes, Mary was forced to shrink her zones of modesty to only the most intimate parts of her. Only being able to hide what her small hands could conceal left entire portions of her normally covered anatomy completely bared to my eager gaze. To say I learned a lot about girls’ bodies that summer is an understatement!

She had interesting curves everywhere I looked. Her lower legs, from her ankles to her knees, were narrower. I had studied her nicely formed calves plenty of times under dresses or in the rare instances that she wore shorts or swimsuits around me. But never before could I simply keep lifting my eyes and get to see her bare, upper legs and thighs like this.

Above her knees, her legs continued to widen into a well-proportioned seat. As I traced the seductive line of her figure, I couldn't even tell when her hips ended, and her torso began. She had no obvious waistline. Only an unbroken stretch of smooth, bare flesh curving up toward her narrow midsection.

It's like her creator had formed her on a pottery wheel, taking extra time to smooth out even the tiniest bumps and imperfections until the flawless vase of her body had emerged.

I don't know why I marveled at her exposed belly button. After all, I had one of those. Everyone did. But there's something different about seeing it on a beautiful woman. I think it's because seeing that little, forbidden dimple on her bared stomach got me thinking about the other forbidden areas she was still, barely, keeping hidden from the world.

I could easily count the ribs of her ribcage until I got to the lower curve of her large breasts. Determined to keep her nipples hidden, she always kept her hands firmly in place on her chest. But she simply couldn't cover everything with just two small hands and had to give up on the hope of keeping the rest of her chest concealed.

No longer did I have to rely on sneak peeks between the gaps of her dress like I usually did at church. She wasn't wearing a dress! Even better, instead of merely being rewarded for my effort with the tiniest glimpse of her protective bra, I could now enjoy the entire bulge of her unprotected right breast in the flesh!

Having never studied Mary this closely before, I came to recognize certain mannerisms and motions I didn’t normally see when she was fully dressed. Whenever she adopted her curled up position, she would wiggle her delicate toes adorably to encourage circulation. Her feet were petite with paler skin because of the shoes and socks she would normally have on. She had no polish on either her fingers or her toes. None of my stepsisters ever wore nail polish. Their stepfather would not have his daughters going around in public with such lewd embellishments.

Sometimes, she would carefully lower her feet to the floor and turn to face the window. That's when I got to enjoy her ripe bottom. Her buttocks were mirror images of each other - her flawless skin stretched over two, perfectly shaped hemispheres which came together to form a crack running straight down below her spine.

She knew I was openly staring at her but couldn't do anything about it. Normally, she might complain to mom or dad that I was being a creep. But given the circumstances, it would do her no good to complain. She had barely spoken since the start of the trip, and, other than crying, never even made a sound. I can understand why she wouldn’t feel up to conversation. She was forced to concentrate so much to keep from slipping up and showing off any more than she already was.

She always kept a keen eye out for other cars. Whenever we passed one, she would duck down in her seat to keep any other passengers from noticing she was riding along with her family without any clothes on. Traffic picked up when our route took us on the four-lane interstate, and Mary's stress level with it.

Once, when we passed an eighteen-wheeler, Mary looked up and yelped in alarm. The cab of those things sits so high that, I guess the trucker had a much better view into our car. No matter how much she curled up in her seat, she couldn't keep him from seeing enough of her body to figure out she was naked.

Not long after that, we encountered an unusually high number of eighteen-wheelers. Dad even got boxed-in several times trying to get through them. It was hilarious watching him curse up a storm while Mary squirmed uncomfortably in the back seat. I figured out that trucker must have spread the word via CB radio about the beautiful, naked passenger in our station wagon and was coordinating to make sure every trucker in the area got a nice, long look at her.

I still chuckle wondering what those truckers thought about it. We looked like the typical, American family out on a road trip. Mother and Father sat at ease in the front seats. Nothing odd about that. Two daughters, one a bit older in a pretty summer dress, and one younger in a jumper with leggings, sat facing backward and chatting away with each other like everything was normal. In the middle seat was a solitary son, happy to be along for the ride. And to complete the scene, the oldest daughter rode beside him, stripped completely naked and terrified, but trying her hardest to cover everything using just her hands and limbs. What an unusual and erotic sight, indeed!

She had to be relieved when we finally turned off the interstate and onto a smaller, two-lane highway, leaving the convoy behind. But when she realized that only meant we were that much closer to our next stop for the day, Mary shivered. You see, we weren't going straight to a motel this time. On the way, we planned to stop and tour a cave!

I had noticed a couple billboards for it as we got closer and was genuinely excited about it. Under normal circumstances, Mary would have been looking forward to it as well. You see, our great-uncle on Patricia's side owned a decently large amount of land - over two hundred acres at the time, if I recall. We visited him a few times growing up.

The land was mostly used for ranching, but he did have a small cave near the edge of his property. It wasn't extensive enough that you could turn it into a tourist attraction or anything, but you could see some interesting features and get deep enough to be in pitch black when you turned your flashlights off.

Whenever we visited our great-uncle, we kids were free to explore the land, including the cave, as long as Mary went with us. In one of her favorite books from that age, a young man and woman meet in a cave and fall in love. So, because she found the idea romantic, Mary was always willing to accompany us. She would sit near the mouth, read her book, and fantasize about meeting a cute boy someday, while the rest of us ventured in deeper. Of course, I was fascinated by the strange growths on the walls and the stalactites dripping from the ceiling. It felt like exploring some alien world.

I also got a kick out of hiding behind pillars and jumping out at my sisters. Cindy always screamed her head off - the precise reaction I was looking for - but Bea usually just tried to kick me. Even if I got away in time, she knew she could get back at me later. She would tattle to mom, saying I wasn't being safe and was scaring our little sister while we were in the cave. And because Cindy was the baby of the family, mom would get defensive and send me off to do extra chores as penance. Bea would sit around and watch me work, silently gloating at the anguish she had caused me. Someone really needed to knock that girl down a few pegs.

My point is that a visit to a real cave - one with actual tour guides and entire rooms full of spectacular, dramatically lit formations - should have been the perfect activity for our family. But Mary was in no condition to perform any activity that didn't involve covering your tender, young nipples from prying eyes and being on the lookout for horny, leering truckers.

As her anxiety level grew, she resorted to scanning every window, turning her head, and darting her wide eyes toward any sign of inbound motion. With every vehicle we encountered, even the ones that were coming from the other direction, she would duck down, curl up, and squeeze her eyes shut, shrugging her lovely, bare shoulders as if bracing for some kind of impact. Only after they had safely passed would she lift her head and resume scanning.

Vacations were supposed to be a time to relax and unwind, but being stuck on vacation naked was only winding her tighter and tighter. When we, following the huge sign advertising cave tours, turned off the main road, it was like the air in the car started to tingle with anticipation. But to my naked, stressed stepsister, the sign only communicated more cause for dread.

I knew from my scouting handbook that caves are a brisk, fifty-five degrees all year round. And like the good scout I was, I had already prepared for this fact by unpacking my rain jacket and keeping it with me in the cab of the station wagon. Bea had selected a tasteful sweater to put on over her dress while Cindy also had her jacket.

Mary had nothing to put on, of course. Her jacket, along with her sweaters and any cute dresses she had intended to wear to perhaps draw the eyes of any handsome young men we may encounter on this trip, were still sitting on her bed back home. But trust me, dressed in just her skin, she would have absolutely no trouble drawing attention from any kind of men - young, or otherwise.

As we pulled into the parking lot, I peered excitedly at the visitor's center. It was the first thing on our trip actually able to draw my attention away from Mary's naked body. I was impatient to get inside and start exploring that cave. When we had parked, everyone started to get out of the car; everyone but Mary. Maybe she was hoping to repeat what she had done at the rest stops the day before and stay safely in the car until we got back. But it didn't take long for her to realize that would not be possible.

The car was parked smack dab in the middle of a decent sized lot without a single tree for shade. Stepping out of the car, I immediately felt the effects of the sweltering sun in the cloudless sky and saw the heat lines rising from the black asphalt all around us. Even with the windows cracked, there's no way Mary would survive out here. She would be baked alive if she tried to spend the next couple hours - the hottest part of the day - inside the station wagon without the benefit of A/C.

With the car rapidly heating up around her, she looked through the window at her mother, silently pleading that she wouldn't have to go through with this. As much as she hated eating breakfast in that skimpy nightgown, she would put it on again in a heartbeat. At least that way she wouldn't have to walk into the visitor's center alongside her whole family completely naked.

But Patricia just looked back at her daughter helplessly. She had already used up all of Frank's goodwill with her last request. There was nothing she could do now. Mary was on her own.

[student]

Will Mary become baked chick or will she blush and shiver in the darkness?
Neverdoubted managed to make the boring part of a family road trip suspenseful.
When will Father Frank tire of Mary's sniffling and announce "I'll give you something to cry about!"??


I liked neverdoubted's acknowledgement that "Normally, shutting our whole family in a confined space, like a car, for extended periods, would lead to a ruckus." Even Bea hasn't been up to her "get Junior in trouble" game. Looks as if Mary is not the only one learning lessons.

[Azrael]

I really liked this chapter. And am definitely looking forward to the next one.

[neverdoubted]

At least one of the male guests of the Soft Pines Motor Inn left that morning with a hard woody. Probably most of them.

Dang it! I was going to use that in a callback later and you've spoiled it. Now it's going to look like I copied you.

In hindsight, I guess it was too much to ask such an obvious sexual reference as "Soft Pines" to slip through without some studious reader picking up on the double entendre. I tip my hat to you, TeenFan.

[Cerulean]

I signed up for an account to tell you how much I’m enjoying this story. Please continue?

[neverdoubted]

I signed up for an account to tell you how much I’m enjoying this story. Please continue?

Wow, I love hearing this. Whenever meeting a new reader, I like to ask a survey question. Everyone else can reply as well. I don't know if you've read any of my other stories, but if so, which main character is your favorite?

1. Rachel, the girl who started it all
2. The always daring Lucy Jenkins
3. Poor, confused Caroline
4. Ashley Melliger, who still believes and Santa Clause
5. Mary Jane (anything but plain)
6. Someone else

[flashharry]

If I may answer that too - as a relative noob, I was captivated by the tasks faced by Lucy. I still am. She is by far and away my favourite character. You have developed her over the years (her years) and she is so believable. It is this believability that stands out and something I try and emulate to some extent in my own writings.

Before I joined (delayed because of the improbable answer to ENF) I used to visit twice a day to see if you had written any updates. I do love your other writings, but please, let Lucy continue to deal with her challenging condition.

[Skylar21]

Please continue this story. I'm eager to find out how Mary resolves her situation. A cool cave coming up - This should be interesting! The son is having quite a car ride, thanks to his sister.