The Last Straw (new 1/26)

[neverdoubted]

Can't wait for the next chapter. You know, this might actually be worse for Beatrice than it is for Mary, depending on what percentage of Bea's clothes that Bea took on this vacation. If Bea took all of her clothes on this trip, then this means that Bea has no clothing remaining at home, which means that Bea will have to remain naked for the remainder of this trip, and she will have to be naked at home too when they go back. At least Mary can put her clothes back on when they go back home. Bea may very well not have any clothes to put on until she can buy some more.

You make a good point! Given that she packed three large suitcases for this trip, Bea may be returning home to a seriously depleted wardrobe while Mary at least still has all her clothes waiting for her. Of course, due to their continued and immediate crisis states, I'm not sure either of them has spent any time pondering that topic. But you are astute in pointing out that, despite appearances, their situations are not identical.

[neverdoubted]

A cacophony filled the confines of our station wagon as, curled up into a tight ball in the back-back seat, Bea let out alternating shrieks of confusion and increasing alarm. Following a night of very poor sleep, the surprised young lady had just been yanked out of her shower by her imposing and very angry stepfather. Frank had dragged her straight to the car, still dripping and covered in soap suds, and sped off to get on with the fourth day of our family vacation - leaving her suitcases, her possessions, and every article of clothing she had packed for the trip behind.

Sitting beside her in the rear-facing bench - the perfect place to witness Bea's growing distress - Cindy began to bawl. It was the second time on this trip something like this had happened to one of her sisters and she wasn't handling it well.

Overcome with emotion, Mary also curled up into a ball and started sobbing. She was just starting to get the hang of riding in the car without clothes. But this threw her into a tailspin. Only three days removed from a similar, traumatic experience, I think the whole thing hit a little too close to home for her.

Unable to take the wailing any longer, Patricia turned to her husband with tears in her eyes and pleaded, "Oh, Frank. Won't you go back?"

My father bristled. From the way he gripped the steering wheel and set his eyes on the road ahead of us, he didn't look open to altering our course. He shook his head. But Patricia, unable to bear hearing all three of her daughters' anguished cries, continued to advocate on Bea's behalf.

"...but, what about her things? And...and the suitcases? We can't just leave it all behind-"

"We can and we will, mother," he interrupted with sufficient volume and force to shut her up, "We are not going back. And that's final!"

Patricia backed down. Helpless, she buried her face in her hands and wept quietly for her daughter. It was too late for anyone to de-escalate the situation or intervene.

Wisely, I kept out of it. Unsure how to react, I continued staring at the back of the driver's seat headrest. Withdrawing into myself, I tried to remain silent and still - a neutral passenger with no opinion on the unexpected developments playing out around me. But on the inside, my heart was racing and my mind spinning.

While the girls sat stunned and in disbelief - choosing to hold out hope that Frank would somehow change his mind and turn back - I knew better. Just as he had done with Mary, once Bea reached his last straw, the decisive man had rapidly proceeded to the punitive stage of discipline. The punishment would fit the crime.

I quickly concluded that he was not going back for Bea's things and moved on to digesting such a monumental development. Elation swelled inside me to the point that I almost betrayed my true feelings by squealing with delight. That wasn't the only thing swelling inside me. My middle stepsister had just been condemned to spend the rest of our vacation without her clothes. Unless I was mistaken or royally screwed things up, I would be enjoying the sight of Bea's completely naked body very soon! My libido was more than thrilled by the news.

Getting used to having two naked stepsisters in the car instead of just the one would take some time. I dared to turn my head only far enough to catch a glimpse of Mary. She was sobbing with her knees tucked up under her chin and hugging her legs. This technically violated our agreement that she sit normally when in the car and not try to hide her body. But considering the circumstances, I made a temporary exception.

I watched the town turn into open wilderness through my window. It took a very long time for the storm raging inside the car to die down. Over the course of the morning, one by one, Patricia, Cindy, and Mary either cried themselves out or regained control over their emotions. But for obvious reasons, Bea's tantrum continued. Based on the undulating outbursts coming from her direction, she was still in a state of disbelief or denial.

Afraid that she would connect my recent actions to her current suffering and resent me for it, I resisted the urge to turn around and look directly at her. But having watched Mary go through nearly the same thing just a few days earlier, I had a pretty good idea what was playing out in the seat behind me.

I recognized when Bea's cries of alarm grew into more of a drawn-out agony. After riding for two hours, she had finally accepted that Frank wasn't going back to get her clothes. And now she had to face the harsh and humiliating dread that comes with being stuck naked on a family vacation.

Mary had already traveled down the path of surviving such a nude ordeal - steeling your nerves for humiliation every time you feel the car start to slow, sharing every intimate bodily secret you have with everyone you meet, forging unlikely alliances just to make it through each day, and sacrificing personal dignities all along the way. But for Bea, it was all brand new. And judging by her long moans of dread, she still had a long way to go to catch up with her sister.

A billboard advertising authentic dinosaur fossils led to our first stop of the day. Little more than a shameless, roadside attraction, there was a giant, green and white brontosaurus overlooking a gift shop.

As we were pulling to a stop in front of the metal building, I used the excuse of gathering my things and stretching to look over my shoulder. Bea had her knees tucked under her chin and her crying had morphed into a pathetic whimpering. Streaks of the shampoo she hadn't been allowed to rinse out had dried into her matted blonde hair. I couldn't see much else, but it was so strange seeing her bare shoulders instead of a regular top.

It got me wondering for the first time; would Bea also be looking to me for clothing? That might be tricky. Other than the stuff I was wearing, I had only packed Mary's customized outfit. By pouring water into my suitcase, Bea had tampered with the rest of my things. Unless she wanted to wear something musty and damp, she might be out of luck.

She was not inclined to join us - I didn't expect her to - and stayed behind in the car while the rest of us got out and stretched our legs. But Mary also chose to exit the car which surprised me given she still didn't have anything on. It wasn't until we were inside the shop that I discovered her motivation.

"Psst, Frankie," she called softly to get my attention. She was standing in a secluded corner of the store next to some shelves of prehistoric relics. They just looked like a bunch of uninteresting pebbles to me. But the gorgeous naked girl motioning urgently was enough to convince me to come closer.

Once she was sure we could confer without being overheard, she dropped her gaze bashfully and said, "I just wanted ask if I could, maybe...borrow something to wear later? You know...like another trade?"

It pained her that she had to come begging of her younger stepbrother yet again. But we both knew she would eventually swallow her pride and make the request. The only thing that surprised me about it was the timing. She couldn't wear anything in the car with Frank sitting right there. So, what was the point of asking for a trade so early in the day?

Trying to figure out her angle, I got distracted several times by her bare body. Acutely aware that I was staring at her and that she was baring too many assets to keep hidden without the aid of clothes, she pressed her hands and arms even more tightly over her privates. And to my disappointment, she was back to slumping her shoulders to minimize the effect of her healthy chest. Unnerved by my leering, penetrating gaze, she shuffled her feet nervously and waited for me to make an offer. But I still didn't know why we were even talking about this.

"Why aren't you wearing your braid," I asked instead. She had chosen to wear her hair down this morning. It hung low enough to reach her breasts and partially cover them. I'm sure she had done it precisely because of the extra concealment this style afforded her.

"...I don't know," she replied, annoyed by my random, unrelated question, "I was just going for something simple."

"You look better in a braid," I opined, flatly.

Mary blinked at me. This interaction was clearly not going the way she had planned.

"I can't," she insisted, incredulously, "I don't have a ribbon."

But I quickly nullified that excuse by reaching into my pack and pulling out a small length of brown string. When she saw I wasn't going to let it go until she had changed her hairstyle to satisfy my preference, she gave a heavy sigh and took the string. My mood brightened when she reluctantly placed it between her pursed lips and reached up to begin braiding her hair. This was a two-hand job which meant she could no longer cover herself while she worked.

I took a small step back to fully take in her latest exhibition. Supposedly, women were designed specifically to attract a mate. Mary was living proof of it. Her ripe body overflowed with countless tantalizing curves and bulges - each one producing another instinctual surge of desire within me.

Raising her arms above her shoulders caused her large, matching breasts to be lifted into prominence upon her broad chest. Seeing her symmetrical wonders capped by the cutest pair of pink nipples, I was struck by an intense urge to fondle them and know what they felt like. In this pose, her sensitive armpits also made an appearance. When I had brushed one of them with my hide brush the previous day, it had caused goosebumps to form all up and down her arm.

Looking lower, I marveled at her sexy midsection and indented belly button. Stretching her arms above her head caused her adorable tummy to be sucked in slightly. But it wasn't enough to deform her perfectly shaped, freshly trimmed pubic heart.

Lowering my gaze even further, I was treated to the sight I had long anticipated. Mary's womanhood, completely shaved as instructed, started just below the lower tip of her heart and immediately formed into an indented cleft. Her smooth peach made from matching petals of bulging pink flesh curved downward to nestle perfectly between her sexy thighs. Though she was pressing her legs bashfully together, her plump, denuded sex remained on permanent display. Her hips had grown too wide and she could not do enough to fully close the tantalizing gap by squeezing alone.

As soon as she had completed the braid, she used the string in her mouth to tie off the tip before quickly moving to cover her privates again. As adornments went, the tie wasn't the least bit pretty. But it would do the job. Luckily, she had plenty of other pretty things to draw attention away from the ugly brown string that was keeping her braid together.

When I noticed her staring wistfully at my pack, I gave it a friendly pat and confirmed what she was obviously wondering by saying, "You can stop worrying. I brought your outfit." Her face visibly relaxed, but the rest of her remained tense. It was nice to know about the precious clothes, but until they were safely wrapped around her bare body, she couldn't let her guard down.

In no hurry to get down to business, though the delay annoyed her, I decided to first exercise a perk from one of our previous trades. "Why are you in such a hurry," I asked, stepping forward. She didn't answer, but reluctantly, let me move her hands away from her privates and down to her sides when I tugged on them. Sensing what was coming next, she formed them into fists and bit her lip while I reached down and began to pet her adorable, fuzzy heart.

Starting in the middle, I made small circles until I reached the outer edge. There, I found a nice, sharp line marking the limit of her pubic hair and the start of her smooth, hairless abdomen. I was happy to see that she had fully honored my shaving instructions. Gleefully, I traced my fingertips around the perimeter of my domain. In response, she took quick, shallow breaths - keeping her muscles flexed.

When I reached the pointy tip at the bottom of her heart, I let my fingers tarry right at the top of her shaved cleft. I already knew about other sensitive areas of her body. But suspecting this would be an especially tender spot, I pressed a little harder than usual. She sucked in a gasping breath and her perky nipples tightened into stiff points.

I started to feel bad for Mary. She was always so tense and on guard. If she could just find a way to relax a little and go with the flow, she would probably feel a lot better. It got me wondering: what did girls do to relieve pent-up stress? They didn't have anything to crank like boys did. But surely they did something, right?

With a final love pat, I removed my hand. I still didn't know why she wanted to talk about clothes so early. And unfortunately, I hadn't yet worked out what I was going to ask for today. I had brainstormed a few ideas, but the events of our chaotic morning hadn't given me any time to organize my thoughts on the matter.

After wracking my brain for everything I knew about negotiating, I had vaguely recalled part of a tactic. I couldn't remember the name of it. Basically, you follow up your first, bad offer with an even worse one that you know they'll never take. This makes the first one more attractive by comparison.

If I'd had more time to plan it, I might have come up with a better first choice. But this was the best I could do on short notice. Sensing I was finally getting down to business, she perked up when I began to talk.

"OK, here's the deal. I'm going to give you two options. You can pick whichever one you want. But you ought to pick something, because there will be no better offers today."

Accustomed to this precedent, she nodded her head in understanding. I paused, letting the tension build, before speaking.

"It really is a shame that you're too shy to share your creation with anybody we meet. So, I'm going to help you come out of your shell. Option one: I'll loan you the same outfit to wear until the end of the day. But in exchange, for the rest of the trip, whenever I snap my fingers, you have to clasp your hands behind your back and smile."

Her eyes bulged thinking about all the embarrassing encounters she had already had on our vacation. Often, her hands were the only things protecting her from further humiliation. And even with clothes on, she would still be flashing her heart. That's because she couldn't close the fly of my skin-tight jean shorts over the wide curves of her feminine hips. And being forced to smile while doing it meant handing over yet another piece of her autonomy. What signal would that send to the people whom she was flashing?

Recomposing herself, she wisely waited to hear my other proposal before overreacting. She didn't know this choice would be even worse.

"Option two is for the same outfit. Because you've proven that I can't trust you alone in the bathroom anymore, for the rest of the trip...I will be in charge of administering your baths."

Watching her jaw drop confirmed to me what I already knew - I was asking way too much with that one. Oh well. Swing and a miss. When she hesitated to accept either option, I shrugged. "or we can just skip the trade today. Won't bother me..."

I started to walk away when she called out, "Frankie, wait! I'll take the first one. The snapping thing."

"Are you sure you've thought this through," I asked. Walking closer, I offered my hand and waited for her to seal the deal. She frowned and shook her head as if struggling to clear out some pesky cobwebs. Her sense of modesty was screaming at her not to accept.

When, with her teeth gritted, she went ahead and shook my hand, I immediately proceeded to demonstrate what a terrible mistake she had just made. Grabbing her arm, I pulled her through the shop toward the checkout counter. As soon as she saw the person working the register, her eyes bulged.

He was a handsome young man - a teenager, about her age. Dressed simply with a large frame and young muscles rippling beneath his work shirt, his narrow waist disappeared into a pair of faded blue jeans. When he saw us approaching, his mouth fell open at the sight of Mary's gorgeous, naked curves.

"Uh...can I help you?" he asked. His deep, penetrating voice reverberated like the strings on a bass guitar. Mary hugged her body as tightly as possible. With dirty, blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, a rugged face and a strong jaw, this was just the type of boy she would normally fawn all over.

Used to speaking on her behalf, I introduced us and begged his pardon for Mary's nude condition.

"I had a question about those fossils back there," I continued, nodding back in the direction we had come. "I was just wondering if you had any of those...what do you call them..."

Tapping my chin a few times, I pretended to concentrate on the right name before thinking of it. "...trilobites!" I exclaimed, snapping my fingers gleefully.

Turning toward Mary with a grin, I waited for her to uphold her end of the bargain and clasp her hands behind her back with a lovely smile like we had agreed. But she just stared at the ground and made a small shake of her head. With her hair pulled back into a braid, she couldn't even hide her blush as the complexion of her face and neck turned bright red. It was just too much to reveal the rest of her spectacular, naked body to this helpful, good-looking young man.

"Trilobites...I, uh...I'm sorry," he apologized, quite distracted by the parts of Mary's bare body that he could see, "my...uh...my grandfather owns the store, but he's been in the hospital. I'm just helping out for the summer. I don't know what all these things are."

"That's ok," I replied, "I hope he recovers soon. It's a nice store."

I walked casually down the aisle, but on the inside, I was fuming. Mary backed slowly away from the encounter and followed me - careful not to turn around and flash him her naked bottom. When we got back to her corner, I stood in a disappointed pose and shook my head at her. She was trembling, but not because she had broken our deal. She was rattled about almost exposing herself to that cute boy.

"Obviously, since you didn't honor your end of the bargain, the deal is off," I snarled.

She opened her mouth to make an excuse, but nothing came out. We both knew exactly what had happened. She had let her modesty interfere with our agreement. She had messed up, and no excuse could fix it now. Still trembling, the naked girl squeezed her eyes closed and braced for the consequence.

Willful to a fault, she was putting her faith in the wrong thing. She ought to let me decide which modesty signals to listen to and which to override. Otherwise, she would still be a quivering, naked mess, curled up in the seat of our car like her sister, with no chance at clothes or normality. It was the horse breaking demonstration all over again. What she really needed was a firm hand to take hold of her lead rope.

"Listen, Mary, we've been over this already. I know it can be a little uncomfortable at times, but you need to trust me. I can't help you until you stop giving into your own fears and trying to control everything."

When she opened her eyes and trained them on me, I saw tears starting to well. "You're right, Frankie," she said, stifling a sob, "I-I'm sorry!"

Remembering that she saw me as a source of strength in the midst of her troubles, I surged forward and wrapped her in a hug. "It's ok," I assured her, softening my tone and trying not to think too hard about the fact that I had my arms around a completely naked girl. Grateful for my embrace, she was able to recover a bit.

"I just got scared," she admitted, earnestly, "but I do trust you." Then, as a hopeful plea, she looked up at me with her big, wet eyes and asked, "Is...is it too late to take the other option?"

It took a monumental amount of restraint to keep my mouth closed and my face neutral when I heard that. Letting go of her, I stepped back, trying to play it cool. I sensed a major opportunity here, if I played my cards right.

I wanted to help her, but I also couldn't just let her move on to the other option for nothing. If she didn't pay a price for her foolish error, how would she ever learn?

Trying to keep my voice steady even as, on the inside, my libido was doing summersaults, I pretended to come to her aid. "I suppose I could give you another chance. But I warned you what would happen if you didn't take it the first time," I explained, shaking my head regretfully. "For that, I'm combining both options into one deal - take it or leave it. But I'll promise to go easy on the snapping thing - at least until you get used to it."

When she didn't answer right away, I took that as a good sign. "...can I think about it?"

I shrugged, cool as a cucumber even with the prospect of bathing my stepsister hanging in the balance. "Be my guest. Offer's good for the rest of the day."

With no deal struck, we returned to the car. As we pulled back onto the road, the atmosphere was...tense. Bea had stopped crying, but was still sniveling. Forced to sit right next to her, Cindy kept making anxious whines. I think she wanted to help, or at least console, her sister. But she didn't know how. When she's having a bad day, Bea is not a very fun person to be around. And today ranked as the absolute worst one of her young life.

It didn't necessarily mean anything that my father said nothing. He was typically a man of few words. But Patricia was also being especially quiet. If I had to guess, she did not approve of her husband's latest disciplinary tactic regarding Bea. Saying nothing was her own form of silent protest.

Now that the initial shock of Bea's punishment had passed, Mary was back to sitting normally and had completely returned focus on her own predicament. With my deal offer, she had a difficult decision to make. But seeing her sitting in quiet reflection, I had no idea what she would choose.

She needed clothes more than anything in the world. But being forced to flash random strangers somewhat nullified the benefit in her mind. Would she rather take her chances walking around naked and at least be allowed to use her hands to cover the most important parts at the most important times? And what about turning over bathing duties to her trusted stepbrother? How much would that factor into her decision? When we reached our next stop, I got my answer.

[SixPathsKeyblader]

I'm surprised that Mary hasn't just decided to suck it up and take her nudity in stride by now. You would think that she would just resign herself to walking around naked rather than giving all this power to Frankie (especially after the pony girl incident).

Also, I wonder what Frank is going to do if the family encounters actual police officers. Frank's imposing might and his proclamations of Mary having a condition may have worked for casual and less threatening civilians. However, officers with guns may not be cowed as easily by Frank's bravado. Making your child walk around completely naked in public is technically child abuse, so the police would technically be in their rights to arrest Frank (and maybe Patricia). Plus, the whole condition excuse may fly for one girl, but I find it less likely to fly for two naked girls.

I wonder if by the end of this, somebody is going to need therapy.

[student]

A quadruple cliff hanger!

Cindy is freaking out--who will she turn to for comfort? Mommy Patricia, the sternly silent sphinx? Naked Mary? Naked and wet hen furious Bea? Mean ole Daddy Frank? Is approachable Frankie her only comfort?

Mary is at least as shocked over Bea's abrupt demotion as Mary was over her own punishment for fooling around. Showers--like Janet Leigh after starring in Psycho, Mary may never take a shower again!

Patricia is conflicted. Very conflicted. So far, neverdoubted hasn't let us see into Mommy's mind. Now there are two naked daughters -- and Patricia is using the passive-aggressive "silent treatment"--or perhaps she's just so deeply shocked that she needs space to process everything.

Frankie is wheeling and dealing--and keeping out of the line of fire. Frank Sr. has a car full of sullen females to deal with--how long before his patience is exhausted? Will Frank Sr order that inside the motel room all females remain naked so that they share the misery? Will he demand that since they're all acting like little children, they're going to look like little girls to include wearing their hair in pigtails for the rest of the journey? Since Mary has agreed to be bathed by Frankie Jr. will Frank Sr see that as a good idea and assign Jr. the task of bathing all the females because the women are acting like children?

Stay tuned...