Just realized I never answered this. I do have a soft spot for Rachel, who I encountered quite a while ago when ENF was new to me. But I think Lucy and Mary are my favorites!neverdoubted wrote: ↑Fri Mar 29, 2024 4:30 pmWow, 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
The Last Straw (new 10/12)
Re: The Last Straw (new 3/28)
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Re: The Last Straw (new 3/28)
Excellent choices! Just for that, here's another chapter.Cerulean wrote: ↑Thu Apr 04, 2024 1:40 pmJust realized I never answered this. I do have a soft spot for Rachel, who I encountered quite a while ago when ENF was new to me. But I think Lucy and Mary are my favorites!neverdoubted wrote: ↑Fri Mar 29, 2024 4:30 pmWow, 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
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- Posts: 467
- Joined: Wed Sep 08, 2021 10:10 pm
- Has thanked: 123 times
- Been thanked: 2029 times
- Contact:
The Last Straw - Chapter 6
There was nothing remarkable about my standard issue jacket. It was a boring, khaki color and made of a lightweight, cotton/polyester blend. There was a collar which you could flip up to block your face on a windy, autumn day. And while it didn't have a hood, it could keep you relatively dry should you find yourself caught in a sudden, April shower.
I had little use for it in the dead of summer, but knowing we would be camping some on this trip, I had packed it just in case the occasion called for a particularly chilly night hike. Now that we were venturing into a cave where the air would be significantly cooler, I was glad to have it. But I didn't need it yet and just draped it over my arm for now.
Mary reluctantly exited the car and dad locked it behind her with an ominous click. The naked spelunker couldn't turn back now and was essentially committed to at least entering the visitor's center with us. Well, I suppose there was one other alternative. She could have just turned and run into the forest on the opposite side of the parking lot, hiding among the trees and hoping not to be discovered by a curious hunter or eager scout. But a girl like Mary was not equipped to survive literally being a naked babe in the woods.
Right away, she noticed another problem than the obvious stress that comes with trying to keep her completely naked body covered using only her hands. Feeling the burning hot asphalt on her bare, unprotected feet, she rose up on her toes in alarm.
Her poor, tender soles were no match for the boiling, black tar of the parking lot. She immediately scampered over to stand in the shade cast by one of the cars nearby. But even that proved too hot for her to stand still. She had to resort to jumping back and forth, lifting one foot then the other in a sexy, jiggling dance.
She had a terribly embarrassing time getting across the lot. At every open patch of asphalt, she would sprint ahead to find the next shady spot, her whole body, especially her ripe bottom, bouncing impressively as she ran. But in her nude state, she couldn't bear to be too far away from her family group. So, she would stand there, dancing impatiently while the rest of us strolled casually through the parking lot. As soon as we caught up to her, she would bound across the next open area to dance beside the next car.
She had to be relieved when we finally got close enough to the edge of the parking lot that she could run over to stand in the grass and cool her burning feet. But by then, we were only a few paces from the entrance, and even more suffering. As we approached the front door together, four normal members of one, all-American family, and one, a naked girl living through the most humiliating day of her life, I caught Mary looking enviously at my jacket.
She might not have any of her own clothes, but I should have predicted that, as long as she was naked, she wouldn't stop searching for ways to recover her stolen modesty, no matter how small.
We entered the visitor's center’s small lobby where the greeter, a man in an official-looking, park ranger's style uniform, approached us. I sometimes wonder what went through his head when he spotted my gorgeous, naked stepsister entering his domain. Perhaps he thought she was here to perform some kind of an anti-war protest. Those had been growing in popularity lately. Or maybe he pegged her as one of those free-love hippies who had gotten lost from California. Either way, there were still strict decency laws in place in most of the country, including here.
The man pushed his glasses up his nose and straightened his hat - he looked more like a scientist than a policeman. But his job as greeter was clearly to maintain order. I doubt he could arrest anyone for bringing a naked woman into the center, but he probably had the authority to at least detain her and any of her associates until state troopers could arrive and escort them to jail.
But he met his match in Sargeant Frank Askis.
Identifying my dad as the man in charge, he addressed him, "Sir, what do you think you're doing? Is this woman with you?"
Frank took one look at the man and found him lacking.
"She's my daughter," he said gruffly, starting to march past the nervous man in the direction of the ticket booth. We followed dad, but the ranger stepped back in front of us, holding his arms wide like he was trying to keep our indecent family away from the decent families inside who had come to enjoy a day of wholesome spelunking.
"Sir, we have rules. I don't care if she is your daughter. I cannot allow her inside the premises without-"
"SHE HAS A CONDITION," Frank barked, cutting the poor man off mid-sentence. I knew the confrontation was over right then and there.
The man jumped as my father's imposing voice was magnified by the hard, stone walls of the little lobby. I felt bad for the poor guy. He was just trying to do his job. But when my father went full drill-sergeant, even the boldest rival would bow to his authority.
The man reluctantly shrank back and let our family pass, even the naked one who apparently had a condition that prevented her from covering her spectacular, blossoming body with anything more than her own hands.
Mary looked miserable as we gathered around the ticket counter. No matter how or where she stood, either the man in the booth or the greeter, who had returned to his post, could see parts of her they weren't supposed to be seeing. It would only get worse once we were through the lobby. On the other side of those doors, countless more visitors would get to enjoy her exposure and there was little she could do to prevent it.
Now that she was no longer curled up into a ball, I took a step back so I could get a better angle on her standing form. Feasting my eyes on my nude, blushing stepsister, my hyperactive gaze jumped up and down her body like it was watching a tennis match. She just had too many interesting spots to pick from. Everywhere I looked, there was another tasty morsel of Mary flesh to devour. I finally had to train my eyes to settle down and only focus on one thing at a time.
I spent a long time appreciating her firm, naked rump. The way her pelvis tilted downward caused her to healthy bottom to stick out seductively. And because she had no way to cover herself back there, I got to enjoy every inch of her full moon.
Her skin, at least the parts she usually kept hidden under multiple layers of cloth, was quite pale. But it got darker the lower you looked. She had nicely shaped legs, long and smooth without being too spindly. Her bottom formed a crease where the backs of her legs met it. You could tell she had some muscles hidden under the smooth outer layer of her thighs. I loved that I could now see her entire, unobstructed back side, without panties, without a skirt, without pants. Just a healthy, naked, seventeen-year-old girl on display for all to enjoy.
After staring for a good long while, I decided I preferred this view of her to any I had seen so far. But I decided to withhold judgement on whether her bottom was truly her best asset until I'd had the chance to really see everything. Even in her completely nude state, there were parts of her that she was being extra careful to keep hidden. If she had sacrificed her incredible bottom that quickly, what remained must sure be something special!
I nearly had to pinch myself when I realized there was even more of her to look forward to. I couldn't believe this was really how I was spending my summer vacation, ranking every part of my naked stepsister's physique. I had to be the luckiest boy in the world!
The booth attendant laid out our options. The main tour was also the most popular and recommended for families with children. It starts with a twenty-minute film about the history of the cave. Then a guide takes groups through the biggest rooms. All combined, it takes about an hour and a half. The entire route is well-lit with handrails and gently sloped, concrete floors...boring!
My ears perked up when the man moved on to describe the explorer's tour. Not for the faint of heart, this tour skips the film and uses the extra time to delve even further into the depths of the Earth on a longer excursion. Fifty people at a time take the main tour, but rarely do more than ten sign up for the explorer's tour.
For those brave souls, an expert guide will take you far beyond the main tunnels and paved pathways to squeeze into tight places that are not wired with lights at all, but also treat you to some of the most spectacular formations! Going off the main path can be treacherous. That's why everyone is issued a hardhat and a flashlight to bring with them. Sign me up!
When I requested permission to do the more difficult tour, my father rewarded my initiative with a firm pat on the back. Askis men never back down from a challenge!
Dad would accompany Patricia who naturally chose the main tour. I assumed the girls would also want to stay with their mother. But at the last moment, Mary spoke up in a meek voice.
"I'd like to go on the explorer's tour, please."
I was just as surprised as everyone else by Mary's request. She was hardly a cave afficionado. Since the tickets were a little more expensive, I didn't think Frank would go for it. But he surprised me by nodding his head and plopping down the extra money. I guess it was worth something to him not to have to deal with her for a little while.
Patricia didn't seem to like the idea of sending her naked daughter off to fend for herself in the dark. But Frank had already made up his mind and she didn’t dare argue with her husband. Stepping up, I assured her that I would look out for Mary.
"It will be fine," I promised, "I'll be there with her the whole time."
Before we left, the attendant showed us a map of the facility. It was centered around a great hall with corridors extending out to reach the various cave entrances. He also pointed out a gift shop off to one side in case we wanted to buy a souvenir. He showed us where the explorer's tour would start and where to queue for the theater.
With our tickets in hand - I held Mary's, since she didn't have any pockets - we stepped through the main doors and into the great hall. Scattered around the hall were large, towering exhibit cases showing off the wonders of the cave. Some were about nature; how various animals have unique adaptations to help them survive in total darkness, or how caves are formed. There were giant quartz crystals and sparkling geodes; treasures from the deep.
Other exhibits were about the human history of the cave. Indians had camped in the mouth and early settlers had used to store certain foods inside because of the stable temperature. Ancient remains of early cave explorers were even extracted and put on display in one of the cases. Creepy!
Looking up at the high ceiling, I marveled at how the manmade structure gradually morphed into solid rock the further back into the hall you looked. I would have loved to take my time and study the exhibits in more detail. But every time I stopped, Mary grew antsy and started whimpering pitifully. Standing still made her extremely anxious. She wasn't interested in admiring the architecture or learning more about caves. Her only goal was to get through the great hall as quickly as possible and be somewhere more private.
It amused me to see her continue fighting for every scrap of modesty. No matter how tightly she pressed her thighs together, she could not close the tempting gap that shone between them. And she always made sure her right hand remained clamped firmly over the private place between her legs. Her left arm was crossed over her chest where she tried to gather up her right breast in her hand. But there was too much breast meat to contain, and she had to settle for just keeping her nipple covered. She barely kept her other nipple hidden in the crick of her elbow.
Since she was out of hands, she had to leave her whole bottom uncovered as we walked along. That's how much her modesty had been forced to shrink in the short time since she had lost her clothes. By carefully choosing when to dart from station to station, she did a pretty good job staying out of sight as we progressed down one side of the great hall.
But whenever somebody did spot her, they always had the same, gawking reaction. Even with her head bowed, I could still tell Mary's cheeks burned with shame every time someone discovered the naked, teenage girl exhibit. When we finally reached the safety of the tunnel, she let out a tense sigh.
The corridor was empty, but a sign with an arrow on the wall told us we had were on the right track for our tour. It looked like we were the first to arrive. The tunnel grew darker the further down we traveled. Eventually, we came to a rope that had been strung across the mouth of the cave we would be exploring. This was the place!
I had no idea why Mary had chosen to go with me on the explorer's tour. My first guess was based on sheer numbers. Think about it. If you were going into a cave completely naked, would you rather be stuck in a group of fifty people or ten?
That was part of it, but it wasn't the whole reason for her choice. I wasn't very good yet at getting into the mind of a vulnerable, naked girl. But it turns out they are pretty easy to figure out. Her every waking thought, every strategic decision, every action is based on the acquisition of one, critical thing - clothes.
Tucked away out of sight of the great hall, Mary was happy to no longer be at risk of constantly being seen. But since she still had her pesky stepbrother beside her, she couldn't relax or lower her hands even a little without flashing more than she already was. While we waited, she finally revealed the true reason she had wanted to get away from Frank and come with me.
"Psst," she whispered, eyeing the hallway nervously, "do you think I could maybe...um...borrow your jacket?"
Now it was my turn to eye the hallway nervously. If Frank found out I had loaned Mary some of my clothes without his permission, I would be in deep trouble. This conversation alone was tantamount to treason. Besides, I could feel the chilly air coming from the mouth of the cave and wasn't interested in giving up my jacket anyway. I didn't owe her any favors.
I shook my head, but Mary persisted, "please, Frank, just until the end of the tour. Please!"
Mary never called me "Frank". She always used "Frankie" because she knew I hated that nickname, or "Francis" which was even worse. Patricia was the only person I tolerated calling me Francis, other than dad who alternated between that and "Junior". Mom meant it as a term of endearment. When anyone else used it, it sounded like they were making fun of me. Usually, because they were.
"You know I can't do that," I answered, "he would kill me!"
"He'll never know, I promise," Mary begged, "and I'll give it back right after the tour. Please, Frank, I'll do anything!"
Anything? That was interesting. She stood facing me, a pleading look on her beleaguered face. Goosebumps were forming all over her chilled body, and she was starting to shiver. Fifty-five was not that cold. But I suppose it would start to affect a naked person a lot more quickly.
I had my doubts that she was really willing to do anything just for the chance to wear my jacket for a couple hours. But just for fun, I decided to dream up some preposterous proposal that I knew she would never agree to.
Her eyes perked up with hope when she could tell the wheels were turning in my head. I got distracted a few times looking up and down her embarrassed form as she stood there anxiously waiting for me to speak. The hardest part was figuring out what I wanted from her. With no clothes and no power, what did she have left to trade?
When my eyes landed on her oversized chest, I was transported back to all those Sundays I spent at church lusting over that tender, little spot on the inside of her right breast. Immediately, I knew what I wanted. The only things that would convince me to risk my father's wrath and give up my jacket were sitting proudly on Mary's chest. She had grown them herself. Why not show them off?
Every bra she owned may have been hundreds of miles away, but she was still frustratingly dedicated to protecting her modesty in that regard. If I could get a good, proper look at her full, unobstructed chest for an extended period, I would finally be able to satisfy my teenage curiosity about that part of female anatomy. I would also be able to appraise her breasts in addition to her bottom and decide once and for all which of the two assets was truly the sexiest. She stared at me hopefully, even holding her breath, as I made my offer.
"OK, fine, I'll loan it to you during the tour. But in exchange, for the rest of the trip, whenever we're riding in the car, you have to sit normally with your feet on the ground and face forward. Also...you have to sit on your hands the whole time."
"WHAT?" Mary exclaimed, before quickly hushing herself. Sitting like that would leave her entire chest bared to me for the rest of the trip. Anyone who happens to drive past and look through the window would at least be able to see her down to her bare shoulders, if not more. And don't even get me started on the truckers!
Of course, she instantly declined. Oh well, I never really expected her to actually take the deal. I would still get to look at her naked body for as long as dad kept up his punishment, and now I got to wear my jacket like I originally planned. Plus, the longer this went on, the chances grew that she would slip up at some point and accidentally show me her boobs anyway. That sort of thing can happen when you're using your hands in place of real clothes.
I shrugged as if to indicate that I didn't care either way. Then, I made a big show of unfolding my jacket, displaying it like it was a priceless artifact. It must have been torture for her to stand there shivering in nothing but her own bare skin and watch me wrap an extra layer of cloth over my shoulders - for no other reason than added comfort. I stuck my hands through the arm holes and pulled it into place with a satisfied sigh to indicate how luxurious it felt to be wearing clothes.
Less than a minute later, she cracked.
I had little use for it in the dead of summer, but knowing we would be camping some on this trip, I had packed it just in case the occasion called for a particularly chilly night hike. Now that we were venturing into a cave where the air would be significantly cooler, I was glad to have it. But I didn't need it yet and just draped it over my arm for now.
Mary reluctantly exited the car and dad locked it behind her with an ominous click. The naked spelunker couldn't turn back now and was essentially committed to at least entering the visitor's center with us. Well, I suppose there was one other alternative. She could have just turned and run into the forest on the opposite side of the parking lot, hiding among the trees and hoping not to be discovered by a curious hunter or eager scout. But a girl like Mary was not equipped to survive literally being a naked babe in the woods.
Right away, she noticed another problem than the obvious stress that comes with trying to keep her completely naked body covered using only her hands. Feeling the burning hot asphalt on her bare, unprotected feet, she rose up on her toes in alarm.
Her poor, tender soles were no match for the boiling, black tar of the parking lot. She immediately scampered over to stand in the shade cast by one of the cars nearby. But even that proved too hot for her to stand still. She had to resort to jumping back and forth, lifting one foot then the other in a sexy, jiggling dance.
She had a terribly embarrassing time getting across the lot. At every open patch of asphalt, she would sprint ahead to find the next shady spot, her whole body, especially her ripe bottom, bouncing impressively as she ran. But in her nude state, she couldn't bear to be too far away from her family group. So, she would stand there, dancing impatiently while the rest of us strolled casually through the parking lot. As soon as we caught up to her, she would bound across the next open area to dance beside the next car.
She had to be relieved when we finally got close enough to the edge of the parking lot that she could run over to stand in the grass and cool her burning feet. But by then, we were only a few paces from the entrance, and even more suffering. As we approached the front door together, four normal members of one, all-American family, and one, a naked girl living through the most humiliating day of her life, I caught Mary looking enviously at my jacket.
She might not have any of her own clothes, but I should have predicted that, as long as she was naked, she wouldn't stop searching for ways to recover her stolen modesty, no matter how small.
We entered the visitor's center’s small lobby where the greeter, a man in an official-looking, park ranger's style uniform, approached us. I sometimes wonder what went through his head when he spotted my gorgeous, naked stepsister entering his domain. Perhaps he thought she was here to perform some kind of an anti-war protest. Those had been growing in popularity lately. Or maybe he pegged her as one of those free-love hippies who had gotten lost from California. Either way, there were still strict decency laws in place in most of the country, including here.
The man pushed his glasses up his nose and straightened his hat - he looked more like a scientist than a policeman. But his job as greeter was clearly to maintain order. I doubt he could arrest anyone for bringing a naked woman into the center, but he probably had the authority to at least detain her and any of her associates until state troopers could arrive and escort them to jail.
But he met his match in Sargeant Frank Askis.
Identifying my dad as the man in charge, he addressed him, "Sir, what do you think you're doing? Is this woman with you?"
Frank took one look at the man and found him lacking.
"She's my daughter," he said gruffly, starting to march past the nervous man in the direction of the ticket booth. We followed dad, but the ranger stepped back in front of us, holding his arms wide like he was trying to keep our indecent family away from the decent families inside who had come to enjoy a day of wholesome spelunking.
"Sir, we have rules. I don't care if she is your daughter. I cannot allow her inside the premises without-"
"SHE HAS A CONDITION," Frank barked, cutting the poor man off mid-sentence. I knew the confrontation was over right then and there.
The man jumped as my father's imposing voice was magnified by the hard, stone walls of the little lobby. I felt bad for the poor guy. He was just trying to do his job. But when my father went full drill-sergeant, even the boldest rival would bow to his authority.
The man reluctantly shrank back and let our family pass, even the naked one who apparently had a condition that prevented her from covering her spectacular, blossoming body with anything more than her own hands.
Mary looked miserable as we gathered around the ticket counter. No matter how or where she stood, either the man in the booth or the greeter, who had returned to his post, could see parts of her they weren't supposed to be seeing. It would only get worse once we were through the lobby. On the other side of those doors, countless more visitors would get to enjoy her exposure and there was little she could do to prevent it.
Now that she was no longer curled up into a ball, I took a step back so I could get a better angle on her standing form. Feasting my eyes on my nude, blushing stepsister, my hyperactive gaze jumped up and down her body like it was watching a tennis match. She just had too many interesting spots to pick from. Everywhere I looked, there was another tasty morsel of Mary flesh to devour. I finally had to train my eyes to settle down and only focus on one thing at a time.
I spent a long time appreciating her firm, naked rump. The way her pelvis tilted downward caused her to healthy bottom to stick out seductively. And because she had no way to cover herself back there, I got to enjoy every inch of her full moon.
Her skin, at least the parts she usually kept hidden under multiple layers of cloth, was quite pale. But it got darker the lower you looked. She had nicely shaped legs, long and smooth without being too spindly. Her bottom formed a crease where the backs of her legs met it. You could tell she had some muscles hidden under the smooth outer layer of her thighs. I loved that I could now see her entire, unobstructed back side, without panties, without a skirt, without pants. Just a healthy, naked, seventeen-year-old girl on display for all to enjoy.
After staring for a good long while, I decided I preferred this view of her to any I had seen so far. But I decided to withhold judgement on whether her bottom was truly her best asset until I'd had the chance to really see everything. Even in her completely nude state, there were parts of her that she was being extra careful to keep hidden. If she had sacrificed her incredible bottom that quickly, what remained must sure be something special!
I nearly had to pinch myself when I realized there was even more of her to look forward to. I couldn't believe this was really how I was spending my summer vacation, ranking every part of my naked stepsister's physique. I had to be the luckiest boy in the world!
The booth attendant laid out our options. The main tour was also the most popular and recommended for families with children. It starts with a twenty-minute film about the history of the cave. Then a guide takes groups through the biggest rooms. All combined, it takes about an hour and a half. The entire route is well-lit with handrails and gently sloped, concrete floors...boring!
My ears perked up when the man moved on to describe the explorer's tour. Not for the faint of heart, this tour skips the film and uses the extra time to delve even further into the depths of the Earth on a longer excursion. Fifty people at a time take the main tour, but rarely do more than ten sign up for the explorer's tour.
For those brave souls, an expert guide will take you far beyond the main tunnels and paved pathways to squeeze into tight places that are not wired with lights at all, but also treat you to some of the most spectacular formations! Going off the main path can be treacherous. That's why everyone is issued a hardhat and a flashlight to bring with them. Sign me up!
When I requested permission to do the more difficult tour, my father rewarded my initiative with a firm pat on the back. Askis men never back down from a challenge!
Dad would accompany Patricia who naturally chose the main tour. I assumed the girls would also want to stay with their mother. But at the last moment, Mary spoke up in a meek voice.
"I'd like to go on the explorer's tour, please."
I was just as surprised as everyone else by Mary's request. She was hardly a cave afficionado. Since the tickets were a little more expensive, I didn't think Frank would go for it. But he surprised me by nodding his head and plopping down the extra money. I guess it was worth something to him not to have to deal with her for a little while.
Patricia didn't seem to like the idea of sending her naked daughter off to fend for herself in the dark. But Frank had already made up his mind and she didn’t dare argue with her husband. Stepping up, I assured her that I would look out for Mary.
"It will be fine," I promised, "I'll be there with her the whole time."
Before we left, the attendant showed us a map of the facility. It was centered around a great hall with corridors extending out to reach the various cave entrances. He also pointed out a gift shop off to one side in case we wanted to buy a souvenir. He showed us where the explorer's tour would start and where to queue for the theater.
With our tickets in hand - I held Mary's, since she didn't have any pockets - we stepped through the main doors and into the great hall. Scattered around the hall were large, towering exhibit cases showing off the wonders of the cave. Some were about nature; how various animals have unique adaptations to help them survive in total darkness, or how caves are formed. There were giant quartz crystals and sparkling geodes; treasures from the deep.
Other exhibits were about the human history of the cave. Indians had camped in the mouth and early settlers had used to store certain foods inside because of the stable temperature. Ancient remains of early cave explorers were even extracted and put on display in one of the cases. Creepy!
Looking up at the high ceiling, I marveled at how the manmade structure gradually morphed into solid rock the further back into the hall you looked. I would have loved to take my time and study the exhibits in more detail. But every time I stopped, Mary grew antsy and started whimpering pitifully. Standing still made her extremely anxious. She wasn't interested in admiring the architecture or learning more about caves. Her only goal was to get through the great hall as quickly as possible and be somewhere more private.
It amused me to see her continue fighting for every scrap of modesty. No matter how tightly she pressed her thighs together, she could not close the tempting gap that shone between them. And she always made sure her right hand remained clamped firmly over the private place between her legs. Her left arm was crossed over her chest where she tried to gather up her right breast in her hand. But there was too much breast meat to contain, and she had to settle for just keeping her nipple covered. She barely kept her other nipple hidden in the crick of her elbow.
Since she was out of hands, she had to leave her whole bottom uncovered as we walked along. That's how much her modesty had been forced to shrink in the short time since she had lost her clothes. By carefully choosing when to dart from station to station, she did a pretty good job staying out of sight as we progressed down one side of the great hall.
But whenever somebody did spot her, they always had the same, gawking reaction. Even with her head bowed, I could still tell Mary's cheeks burned with shame every time someone discovered the naked, teenage girl exhibit. When we finally reached the safety of the tunnel, she let out a tense sigh.
The corridor was empty, but a sign with an arrow on the wall told us we had were on the right track for our tour. It looked like we were the first to arrive. The tunnel grew darker the further down we traveled. Eventually, we came to a rope that had been strung across the mouth of the cave we would be exploring. This was the place!
I had no idea why Mary had chosen to go with me on the explorer's tour. My first guess was based on sheer numbers. Think about it. If you were going into a cave completely naked, would you rather be stuck in a group of fifty people or ten?
That was part of it, but it wasn't the whole reason for her choice. I wasn't very good yet at getting into the mind of a vulnerable, naked girl. But it turns out they are pretty easy to figure out. Her every waking thought, every strategic decision, every action is based on the acquisition of one, critical thing - clothes.
Tucked away out of sight of the great hall, Mary was happy to no longer be at risk of constantly being seen. But since she still had her pesky stepbrother beside her, she couldn't relax or lower her hands even a little without flashing more than she already was. While we waited, she finally revealed the true reason she had wanted to get away from Frank and come with me.
"Psst," she whispered, eyeing the hallway nervously, "do you think I could maybe...um...borrow your jacket?"
Now it was my turn to eye the hallway nervously. If Frank found out I had loaned Mary some of my clothes without his permission, I would be in deep trouble. This conversation alone was tantamount to treason. Besides, I could feel the chilly air coming from the mouth of the cave and wasn't interested in giving up my jacket anyway. I didn't owe her any favors.
I shook my head, but Mary persisted, "please, Frank, just until the end of the tour. Please!"
Mary never called me "Frank". She always used "Frankie" because she knew I hated that nickname, or "Francis" which was even worse. Patricia was the only person I tolerated calling me Francis, other than dad who alternated between that and "Junior". Mom meant it as a term of endearment. When anyone else used it, it sounded like they were making fun of me. Usually, because they were.
"You know I can't do that," I answered, "he would kill me!"
"He'll never know, I promise," Mary begged, "and I'll give it back right after the tour. Please, Frank, I'll do anything!"
Anything? That was interesting. She stood facing me, a pleading look on her beleaguered face. Goosebumps were forming all over her chilled body, and she was starting to shiver. Fifty-five was not that cold. But I suppose it would start to affect a naked person a lot more quickly.
I had my doubts that she was really willing to do anything just for the chance to wear my jacket for a couple hours. But just for fun, I decided to dream up some preposterous proposal that I knew she would never agree to.
Her eyes perked up with hope when she could tell the wheels were turning in my head. I got distracted a few times looking up and down her embarrassed form as she stood there anxiously waiting for me to speak. The hardest part was figuring out what I wanted from her. With no clothes and no power, what did she have left to trade?
When my eyes landed on her oversized chest, I was transported back to all those Sundays I spent at church lusting over that tender, little spot on the inside of her right breast. Immediately, I knew what I wanted. The only things that would convince me to risk my father's wrath and give up my jacket were sitting proudly on Mary's chest. She had grown them herself. Why not show them off?
Every bra she owned may have been hundreds of miles away, but she was still frustratingly dedicated to protecting her modesty in that regard. If I could get a good, proper look at her full, unobstructed chest for an extended period, I would finally be able to satisfy my teenage curiosity about that part of female anatomy. I would also be able to appraise her breasts in addition to her bottom and decide once and for all which of the two assets was truly the sexiest. She stared at me hopefully, even holding her breath, as I made my offer.
"OK, fine, I'll loan it to you during the tour. But in exchange, for the rest of the trip, whenever we're riding in the car, you have to sit normally with your feet on the ground and face forward. Also...you have to sit on your hands the whole time."
"WHAT?" Mary exclaimed, before quickly hushing herself. Sitting like that would leave her entire chest bared to me for the rest of the trip. Anyone who happens to drive past and look through the window would at least be able to see her down to her bare shoulders, if not more. And don't even get me started on the truckers!
Of course, she instantly declined. Oh well, I never really expected her to actually take the deal. I would still get to look at her naked body for as long as dad kept up his punishment, and now I got to wear my jacket like I originally planned. Plus, the longer this went on, the chances grew that she would slip up at some point and accidentally show me her boobs anyway. That sort of thing can happen when you're using your hands in place of real clothes.
I shrugged as if to indicate that I didn't care either way. Then, I made a big show of unfolding my jacket, displaying it like it was a priceless artifact. It must have been torture for her to stand there shivering in nothing but her own bare skin and watch me wrap an extra layer of cloth over my shoulders - for no other reason than added comfort. I stuck my hands through the arm holes and pulled it into place with a satisfied sigh to indicate how luxurious it felt to be wearing clothes.
Less than a minute later, she cracked.
Last edited by neverdoubted on Fri Apr 05, 2024 12:11 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The Last Straw (new 4/4)
Finally Frank will get what he wants - his step sister on display! Does Mary think this is a good deal? Brief clothing now for extended exhibition later?
I have a feeling the entire dynamic is about to change. Frank is going to have a happy rest of the trip. No more Mary covering up!
Keep it up, great story!
I have a feeling the entire dynamic is about to change. Frank is going to have a happy rest of the trip. No more Mary covering up!
Keep it up, great story!
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Re: The Last Straw (new 4/4)
Because of her earlier decline of the deal, I have a feeling he's going to alter it now that she accepted it.
Re: The Last Straw (new 4/4)
When caught, Junior's story is "Sir, I accept punishment, but she was cold. Being punished is a small price to keep Mary from freezing to death. Would you let your soldiers freeze?"
Will the family females shun Junior for being weak? Or will they sympathize?
Will the family females shun Junior for being weak? Or will they sympathize?
Re: The Last Straw (new 4/4)
From Chapter One: " I wouldn’t believe it myself if we didn’t have the scrapbook to prove it."
Six chapters, two days, and not a camera mentioned. What's going in that scrapbook.
One silly suggestion: tourist trap photos. Many tourist traps make money by selling photos. Automatic photo booths have been around since 1888--and in 1925 photo booths on Broadway could take a strip of 8 photos and produce prints in 10 minutes, all for a quarter.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Photo_booth
Another option is spending money on a Polaroid instant camera. These were available to the public in 1948.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Instant_camera
Disposable cameras are cheap even though the film needs to be processed. Rapid photo processing that took as little as an hour was a thing during the Sixties.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disposable_camera
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fotomat
All of these ideas can fill that AWOL scrapbook.
Six chapters, two days, and not a camera mentioned. What's going in that scrapbook.
One silly suggestion: tourist trap photos. Many tourist traps make money by selling photos. Automatic photo booths have been around since 1888--and in 1925 photo booths on Broadway could take a strip of 8 photos and produce prints in 10 minutes, all for a quarter.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Photo_booth
Another option is spending money on a Polaroid instant camera. These were available to the public in 1948.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Instant_camera
Disposable cameras are cheap even though the film needs to be processed. Rapid photo processing that took as little as an hour was a thing during the Sixties.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disposable_camera
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fotomat
All of these ideas can fill that AWOL scrapbook.
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Re: The Last Straw (new 4/4)
You should know better by now than to ever doubt me. I am disappointed that you think I would put something like that in the very first paragraph without having a plan to pay it off.
I have a plan for the scrapbook, I have a plan for his jacket, I have a plan for the other sisters. I even have a plan for old, great-uncle Herbert, may he soon rest in peace.
I have a plan for e v e r y t h i n g.
Now, if only there were enough interest, I would show it to you.
I have a plan for the scrapbook, I have a plan for his jacket, I have a plan for the other sisters. I even have a plan for old, great-uncle Herbert, may he soon rest in peace.
I have a plan for e v e r y t h i n g.
Now, if only there were enough interest, I would show it to you.
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