The Last Straw - Chapter 9
Posted: Fri Aug 23, 2024 1:25 pm
They say luck resides at the intersection of preparation and opportunity. Take the lottery. Statistically, you would have to be one of the luckiest people in all of history to win anything significant. But at the same time, no one wins who doesn't first buy a ticket.
But the saying goes much deeper than that. While opening the door and hoping luck will find you may count as preparation, there are more reliable ways to succeed which do not hang on such long odds. Some people appear to "make their own luck". But what they're really doing is recognizing and capitalizing over and over on small opportunities and letting the positive effects accumulate. If you can learn to do that, before you know it, you're living an existence that kings would envy.
Our next stop was to be a late lunch. Because it was going to be a while before we got there, we were due to stay on the four-lane highway for well over an hour. Frank's punishment for Mary, spending our family vacation without any clothes, continued to be undeniably effective. I don't know how the poor thing couldn't have learned a valuable lesson by now. And her trade with me, which required her to sit upright and "normal" while a seemingly endless parade of gawking travelers rode past her window, compounded her humiliation and stripped her dignity even further.
She looked miserable. After her sobs diminished then stopped, her eyes eventually dried. But her pale brown pools had lost their usual carefree sparkle. They were now puffy with streaks of red around the edges, and her cheeks remained tear-stained. Her shoulders - growing weary of so much flinching - rose less and less as time wore on. Unable to cover her ears to block out the deafening blasts from trucker's horns, or even the smaller beeps of appreciation from passenger cars, the journey must have felt like an eon to her.
But for me, the time was flying by much too quickly. As a young, perpetually horny, teenage boy, I couldn't imagine anything better than going on vacation with a completely naked young lady approaching the peak of her physical and sexual development. Fate couldn't have dropped a greater gift into my lap. In fact, if forced to choose between this and winning the lottery, I'm not sure I would have chosen the money. One look at Mary Jane's tantalizing teenage treasures, and I wonder how many of you wouldn't do likewise.
Profound secrets about the opposite sex, which had been denied me my whole life, were now laid bare. I was captivated by the way her healthy, jiggling anatomy responded to irregularities in the road. Her breasts rippled and bounced like nothing I had ever previously witnessed. They sometimes resembled overfilled water balloons, but with a greater density.
They were close enough that I could have reached up and touched them. A few times, I was tempted to do just that, just to satisfy my curiosity. A squeeze and perhaps hefting them in my open palms would have told me a great deal about the confounding physical properties of Mary's anatomy. But knowing better than to initiate physical contact on such an intimate place on her body, I restrained myself and continued to make do with only visual inspections.
Blessed with many attractive qualities - a fair complexion, full lips, doe eyes, and a symmetrical, oval face – Mary had always been objectively pretty. And those were only the parts of her that were normally visible. All this time, she had been hiding other parts of her that were even more attractive!
Her prominent nipples were a frequent area of interest to me. They resembled plump, juicy cranberries which had not quite reached their fully ripe shade. Just looking at them made me unconsciously lick my lips. Their darker color contrasted sharply with the rest of her skin. Ironically, the greatest contrast came from nearby where her creamy, white breast bulges were extra pale from never seeing the sun. Luckily, her perky areolas also had a ruddy complexion which did a pretty good job blending the two dominant, and starkly different, colors of her breasts.
Watching her talented nipples change their shape was endlessly entertaining. At unpredictable intervals, they would grow stiff - her areolas puckering tight around her plump points and causing them to stick out impressively from her chest. That state must have been unsettling for her, because whenever that happened, she would look down at them with wide, concerned eyes and purse her lips.
If she took slow, steadying breaths and concentrated on tuning out the world, they would eventually soften into cute, little bumps – smaller, but never fully flat - on her bulging orbs. Her areolas would also relax somewhat - spreading out into wider, smooth circles. But then, some intruding noise, like the honk of a horn, would jolt her back to reality. She would open her eyes and see me staring in awe at her bare chest, and her nipples would rapidly perk back up against her will.
They weren't completely stiff the whole time. Frequently they reverted to what I assumed was their default state, a happy equilibrium between completely soft and far too taut. In this state, they still had a noticeable amount of plumpness, and her perky areolas stood out just enough to steal some attention from her pretty points.
Whenever they got stiff, I wondered why her body was reacting like that, but could only guess the answer. It seemed like an involuntary response - like hiccups, only much slower and infinitely more fun to watch. After about the third time it happened, I really began to ponder the significance. Sadly, my working knowledge of female anatomy was pathetically thin. If you wrote it all down, the resulting product would starve a bookworm.
My own body provided little help in solving the riddle. Sure, I had parts that could expand and contract. My penis had been in a near constant state of expansion ever since we left the house and was currently pressing uncomfortably against the confines of my shorts. But that only happened when it was begging for a stroke. Plus, when I got turned on, my nipples certainly didn't grow - at least not to the extent that Mary's could. With no other point of reference, solving the mystery of her magical, inflating berries would have to come at other time.
Drawn to the alluring spectacle before me, I eagerly filed away every new trick her body performed as fast as my brain could catalog it. I had a living, breathing, naked female to observe and enjoy. And while her breasts did fascinate me, I found plenty of other interesting areas worthy of study.
Whenever another car pulled up beside us, her adorable, naked tummy muscles would tense along with her bare shoulders. If she accidentally made eye contact with one of the boys or men in the other car, she would gasp, and a cute blush would form on her face. It would spread down her collarbone and even onto the upper bulges of her chest. She would squeeze her eyes closed with a pained expression and hold her breath until she thought the spectators of her nude exhibition were gone.
But even if we weren't near another car with boys, she always had my hungry eyes to accompany her. I made frequent trips down her curvaceous body to gaze lovingly at her lap. She was careful to keep her thighs pressed together to minimize the gap down there and keep her most private parts hidden in shadow. But the soft, tempting fuzz growing in the shape of a heart on her lower abdomen reminded me that there was even more to her budding womanhood that I hadn't yet explored - more mysteries to unlock.
Because I was not privy to Frank's disciplinary aims, I had no idea how much more time I would get with this erotic creature. He could decide to end her penalty as soon as the next exit and let her go back to being a typical, attractive, regularly clothed young lady on vacation with her family. Or he could continue her naked punishment for the whole rest of the trip.
I had no idea what the stoic, stubborn soldier's plans were for his rebellious, young stepdaughter. Though, I'm sure you can guess which outcome I was hoping for. All I knew for sure was that I shouldn't waste a single minute of her exposure. As long as the sun kept shining on Mary's beautiful, bare skin, I intended to keep making hay!
When I saw the flash from the trucker's camera, it triggered another flashbulb of sorts - the flash of inspiration. I had no control over the length of Mary's punishment, but with the right equipment, I could preserve this experience in more than just my mental memories. Now that was an idea! But if I was going to pull it off, I would have to work quickly. Time to brainstorm.
Our family technically did own a camera. I had helped pack it among the supplies before we left. But it was an older model from the fifties; frustrating to operate and notorious for taking blurry photos. Even if you held it perfectly still and had excellent lighting, you still only had a tiny, dim, black and white square with hard to decipher details.
If I could get my hands on something better - a basic rig designed for amateur photographers but more modern - I knew enough from getting my photography badge in boy scouts to figure out the rest. I doubted I could get Mary to willingly be photographed without her clothes on. But even if I couldn't cajole her into posing, I could always take candid shots - her riding in the car with her chest exposed, if nothing else. Those pictures would be more valuable than gold!
Color film was a must. I simply had to capture the majesty of those ripe, red berries growing on her creamy, swollen orbs. But color cost extra. I had brought my meager savings and Frank had mentioned giving us some souvenir money for the trip. If I could swing it, I couldn't think of a better way to spend mine than on a new camera!
Feeling our car slow, hope glimmered on Mary's troubled face, and she dared to raise her head to look out the window. Exiting onto a two-lane road gave her a much-needed break from showing herself off to other cars. But the sense of relief passing over her didn't seem to last long. We may be leaving the highway, but she was still completely exposed and heading into a new town full of nice folks who hadn't seen her secret treasures yet. For a naked girl, any public place has the potential to be just as embarrassing as another. Nowhere is truly safe.
After a few more jiggling miles, the road led us directly downtown. The sleepy town's small square was not exactly bustling. But there were apparently too many pedestrians strolling about for Mary's comfort and she immediately curled into a ball when she spotted them. Even though we were about to park, per our agreement, she was supposed to keep her hands under her lap until the car stopped moving. But before I could call foul, I spotted our lunch destination, the local diner, and got distracted. With my mouth salivating, and since we were about to stop anyway, I decided not to make a big deal out of it.
Since it was nearly two, I excitedly scanned the wall of pictures in the windows of the diner. One sign advertised their famous desserts, including delicious, homemade pies. I wondered if I could convince my father to let me order a slice. A growing boy needs sustenance, right? I could practically smell it! Feeling a tug on my sleeve, I looked over to find Mary had grabbed hold of my shirt.
"Psst," she whispered. Being curled up covered most of her body, even with one arm outstretched. Flashing an annoyed look, I dully asked, "What".
"I...I need to use the restroom," she whispered bashfully. Then, even more softly to make sure no one else in our family could eavesdrop, "can I use your jacket again?"
I should have expected that she would once again see me as a potential ally in her quixotic quest for modesty. Other than the nearly see-through nightgown her mother had mediated for her to wear to breakfast that morning, I had been her sole source of clothes on this trip so far. Since eating was higher on my priorities list, the timing of her request could have been more convenient.
I tried to pull away, but she had a death grip on my sleeve. So, I was kind of forced to give her a second look. Even though she was no longer flashing her chest, she was trembling mightily, and taking ragged, anxious breaths. The knuckles grabbing my shirt were also white, like she was terrified that I would abandon her. The ride here, while embarrassing, had at least provided some distance between her bared assets and her audience. Getting out of the car and doing anything in this quaint town would mean far more intimate and up-close encounters with gawking strangers.
But how did she think her little clothing request would play out, exactly? She was crazy if she thought I was going to just hand over my jacket right in front of Frank. What was she going to do, sneak past him while he was busy with his pork chop and hide out in the restroom until it was time to leave again? No. Her half-baked plan was reckless and insane, and I told her so with a forceful shake of my head.
"I can find somewhere else to go," she thought aloud, but still softly, "I'll be careful and will come back before you all are finished with lunch. If he sees me, I...I'll tell him I stole it and...that you had nothing to do with it! He'll never find out. Please, Frank."
I wasn't used to any of my stepsisters speaking to me in anything other than a harsh or derisive tone, except Cindy on occasion. Now, using her sweetest tongue to plead, I was struck by Mary's beautiful voice. I never noticed how nicely her soft, feminine sound matched her soft, feminine body until she was stripped bare and had to beg.
Naked and desperate, she looked like she might start crying again if I didn't do something for her. But just because I was inclined to aid her in her time of need didn't mean I wasn't going to ask something in return. After all, making deals with my naked stepsister was quickly becoming my new favorite hobby. Much like that shrewd man who had mastered the art of making his own luck, I was starting to see that every time she turned to me meant another opportunity to personally benefit.
As my father found an empty spot in front of the diner and rolled the car to a stop, everyone stretched out soreness from the long ride and began gathering up their things. I used the occasion to look out the window and formulate a sounder and less risky proposal.
Her idea to find another restroom far from his watchful eye had merit. But could I really trust her to stay out of sight while wearing my jacket? The diner had a wall of picture windows overlooking the entire square. The only way to be sure she didn't do something reckless, like waltzing around corner in full view of the diner, was if I stayed close enough to keep an eye on her and repossess it, if necessary. Unfortunately for me, that would mean skipping lunch to babysit the unpredictable damsel.
After one last, despondent look at the homemade pies, I made up my mind. Collecting my jacket to signal it was coming with me either way, I pointed across the square and whispered my counteroffer.
"There's no way I'm doing that. It's too risky. But see that hardware store? If you want to walk over there with me, you can wear it once we're inside. Plus, I'm sure they have a restroom."
Mary looked where I was pointing and flinched. In clothes, it wasn't that long a walk. But she wouldn't have any clothes until she got there. I'm sure she had been hoping to avoid baring her body to the good folks of this sleepy town. Traversing their square completely in the nude was the opposite of keeping a low profile. But at least she would have the familiar face of her younger stepbrother to keep her company every step of the way. And she would get to enjoy the benefits of my jacket once we arrived.
I caught her squirming slightly in her seat, probably from her full bladder, while she weighed my offer. Her restroom needs took huddling in the car and doing nothing off the table. And with everyone else unloaded and about to head inside, her time to deliberate was running short. She could come with me and wear my jacket inside the store - getting to feel normal for a little while without constantly sharing her nude state with everyone she encountered. Or she could take her chances without my help, completely naked and alone in a place where she knew nobody.
Technically, there was a third option. She could come inside the diner with the rest of her family and sit down for a nice, nude meal. I'm sure the patrons currently enjoying a late lunch inside would enjoy that very much.
Faced with three undesirable choices, her face fell. A young lady shouldn't have to make such decisions with her modesty always on the chopping block. But if she didn't like being stranded naked on a family vacation, she should have thought of that before trying my father's patience and flaunting his orders. Based on the way she stared longingly at the fabric draped over my forearm, I predicted what she was going to choose before she did it.
"Ok, I'll do it."
It brought a smile to my face that I had so easily arranged another entertaining adventure. And it had cost me nothing! Well, my grumbling stomach reminded me that I was giving up my chance to eat lunch. But it was just one meal. How could some forgettable meatloaf and a slice of pie compete with getting to parade my naked stepsister around a town square?
Pulling my sleeve free from her anxious grasp, I told her to sit tight and climbed out of the car. The whole group turned when I called out to get my father's attention.
"Sir, may I skip lunch and go for a walk instead?"
"You'd rather go for a walk than eat?" he asked, regarding me with skepticism. As a growing teenager, I was always hungry and rarely turned down a chance to eat.
"I'm not hungry, sir. I need to stretch my legs and would like to do some exploring." I met his skeptical eye with a steady gaze of my own, hoping he couldn't hear the rumbling in my stomach. Nodding over my shoulder, I added what I hoped would sound like a plausible excuse for my uncharacteristic behavior. "I, uh, was also hoping to stop in at that hardware store. I have a broken zipper. It may not be salvageable, but thought I could try my hand at mending it."
Frank was a practical man who didn’t like to waste money. I correctly guessed he would support my decision to repair rather than replace something that had broken down and support my admirable efforts. "Very well," he answered curtly. Reaching into his pocket, he even tossed me a nickel to help cover the cost of my supply run. It was cheaper than buying my lunch.
"Thank you, sir," I replied. But I had one more request before he dismissed me. "Mary would also like to accompany me, sir, if that's all right. She's not hungry either and would rather stretch her legs."
Patricia was not happy to hear that proposal. Shaking her head vigorously, she jumped into the conversation to voice her disapproval, "No, no. I-I don't think that's a good-" she started to say but was cut off by her husband.
"Fine," he barked, "be back in an hour."
His unequivocal instructions threw me for a loop. Honestly, I half expected a longer interrogation about my intentions with Mary. But he had made up his mind surprisingly quickly. Was he so annoyed by her sniveling presence that he would send her off with me just for a chance to eat his lunch in peace? Not about to argue or question his ruling, I yelped out a hoarse "yes sir!" before ducking back into the car to hide my shock and retrieve my nude, walking companion.
From outside, I heard Bea exclaim, "Hey, no fair! They're not coming with us?"
Leave it up to her to try and worm her way into the picture and find a way to hijack my fun. It was better to keep her far away from any of our dealings. Something told me, if she learned I was loaning clothes to Mary behind Frank's back, she wouldn't hesitate to use that information against me.
I briefly feared that Patricia would use my meddling, middle stepsister’s protest as an excuse to step in and halt the proceedings. But when I stood back up and saw my father already half-way to the door of the diner, I knew I had nothing to worry about. Frank’s was the only opinion that counted, and he clearly considered the matter settled. Bea could address grievances to her mother all she wanted. It wasn't going to change anything; though that didn't stop her from trying.
Turning to her mother to plead her case, she said, "Mother, I'm not hungry either. And I really need to stretch my legs. May I please go with them?"
"Wait, I wanna go too!", Cindy exclaimed, not about to be left out.
Like a protective, mother hen, if Patricia had her way, she would keep all three of her daughters in her sight - especially the vulnerable one running around with no feathers. But because Frank had already given Mary permission to go with me, she had no way of protecting her. That didn’t mean she couldn’t still keep her two other chicks safely under her wing.
"Now, now, girls, there will be time for walks later," she said, ushering her remaining daughters away from the car and along toward the diner. "Come along, Beatrice. You too, Cynthia. You can stretch your legs at the next stop."
Compliant Cindy obeyed right away, staying close to her mother as ordered. But Bea only reluctantly let herself be dragged along. Glaring back, she caught my eye and stuck out her tongue in protest. Having won this round, I couldn't resist a teasing wink back at her even though I’m sure it would only further antagonize her.
Mary had always been Bea’s strongest ally in the family power dynamic. Being nude on this trip meant she was already compromised. But the last time I had taken her away - for that cave tour - Mary had returned acting even stranger than before; even to the point of giving up trying to maintain her modesty around me in the car.
Bea may not have known how I was exploiting Mary's predicament for my own gain, but that girl was persistent. She would not stop until she had figured out how to neutralize the leverage I had gained over her already weakened ally and restore the balance of familial power in her favor. If she meant to make trouble for me, I had plenty of time to prepare for it. Right now, I had better things to do than pondering the nascent vengeance schemes of Beatrice Rose Conyor. Specifically, it was time to take her sister out for a naked stroll around the town square.
But the saying goes much deeper than that. While opening the door and hoping luck will find you may count as preparation, there are more reliable ways to succeed which do not hang on such long odds. Some people appear to "make their own luck". But what they're really doing is recognizing and capitalizing over and over on small opportunities and letting the positive effects accumulate. If you can learn to do that, before you know it, you're living an existence that kings would envy.
Our next stop was to be a late lunch. Because it was going to be a while before we got there, we were due to stay on the four-lane highway for well over an hour. Frank's punishment for Mary, spending our family vacation without any clothes, continued to be undeniably effective. I don't know how the poor thing couldn't have learned a valuable lesson by now. And her trade with me, which required her to sit upright and "normal" while a seemingly endless parade of gawking travelers rode past her window, compounded her humiliation and stripped her dignity even further.
She looked miserable. After her sobs diminished then stopped, her eyes eventually dried. But her pale brown pools had lost their usual carefree sparkle. They were now puffy with streaks of red around the edges, and her cheeks remained tear-stained. Her shoulders - growing weary of so much flinching - rose less and less as time wore on. Unable to cover her ears to block out the deafening blasts from trucker's horns, or even the smaller beeps of appreciation from passenger cars, the journey must have felt like an eon to her.
But for me, the time was flying by much too quickly. As a young, perpetually horny, teenage boy, I couldn't imagine anything better than going on vacation with a completely naked young lady approaching the peak of her physical and sexual development. Fate couldn't have dropped a greater gift into my lap. In fact, if forced to choose between this and winning the lottery, I'm not sure I would have chosen the money. One look at Mary Jane's tantalizing teenage treasures, and I wonder how many of you wouldn't do likewise.
Profound secrets about the opposite sex, which had been denied me my whole life, were now laid bare. I was captivated by the way her healthy, jiggling anatomy responded to irregularities in the road. Her breasts rippled and bounced like nothing I had ever previously witnessed. They sometimes resembled overfilled water balloons, but with a greater density.
They were close enough that I could have reached up and touched them. A few times, I was tempted to do just that, just to satisfy my curiosity. A squeeze and perhaps hefting them in my open palms would have told me a great deal about the confounding physical properties of Mary's anatomy. But knowing better than to initiate physical contact on such an intimate place on her body, I restrained myself and continued to make do with only visual inspections.
Blessed with many attractive qualities - a fair complexion, full lips, doe eyes, and a symmetrical, oval face – Mary had always been objectively pretty. And those were only the parts of her that were normally visible. All this time, she had been hiding other parts of her that were even more attractive!
Her prominent nipples were a frequent area of interest to me. They resembled plump, juicy cranberries which had not quite reached their fully ripe shade. Just looking at them made me unconsciously lick my lips. Their darker color contrasted sharply with the rest of her skin. Ironically, the greatest contrast came from nearby where her creamy, white breast bulges were extra pale from never seeing the sun. Luckily, her perky areolas also had a ruddy complexion which did a pretty good job blending the two dominant, and starkly different, colors of her breasts.
Watching her talented nipples change their shape was endlessly entertaining. At unpredictable intervals, they would grow stiff - her areolas puckering tight around her plump points and causing them to stick out impressively from her chest. That state must have been unsettling for her, because whenever that happened, she would look down at them with wide, concerned eyes and purse her lips.
If she took slow, steadying breaths and concentrated on tuning out the world, they would eventually soften into cute, little bumps – smaller, but never fully flat - on her bulging orbs. Her areolas would also relax somewhat - spreading out into wider, smooth circles. But then, some intruding noise, like the honk of a horn, would jolt her back to reality. She would open her eyes and see me staring in awe at her bare chest, and her nipples would rapidly perk back up against her will.
They weren't completely stiff the whole time. Frequently they reverted to what I assumed was their default state, a happy equilibrium between completely soft and far too taut. In this state, they still had a noticeable amount of plumpness, and her perky areolas stood out just enough to steal some attention from her pretty points.
Whenever they got stiff, I wondered why her body was reacting like that, but could only guess the answer. It seemed like an involuntary response - like hiccups, only much slower and infinitely more fun to watch. After about the third time it happened, I really began to ponder the significance. Sadly, my working knowledge of female anatomy was pathetically thin. If you wrote it all down, the resulting product would starve a bookworm.
My own body provided little help in solving the riddle. Sure, I had parts that could expand and contract. My penis had been in a near constant state of expansion ever since we left the house and was currently pressing uncomfortably against the confines of my shorts. But that only happened when it was begging for a stroke. Plus, when I got turned on, my nipples certainly didn't grow - at least not to the extent that Mary's could. With no other point of reference, solving the mystery of her magical, inflating berries would have to come at other time.
Drawn to the alluring spectacle before me, I eagerly filed away every new trick her body performed as fast as my brain could catalog it. I had a living, breathing, naked female to observe and enjoy. And while her breasts did fascinate me, I found plenty of other interesting areas worthy of study.
Whenever another car pulled up beside us, her adorable, naked tummy muscles would tense along with her bare shoulders. If she accidentally made eye contact with one of the boys or men in the other car, she would gasp, and a cute blush would form on her face. It would spread down her collarbone and even onto the upper bulges of her chest. She would squeeze her eyes closed with a pained expression and hold her breath until she thought the spectators of her nude exhibition were gone.
But even if we weren't near another car with boys, she always had my hungry eyes to accompany her. I made frequent trips down her curvaceous body to gaze lovingly at her lap. She was careful to keep her thighs pressed together to minimize the gap down there and keep her most private parts hidden in shadow. But the soft, tempting fuzz growing in the shape of a heart on her lower abdomen reminded me that there was even more to her budding womanhood that I hadn't yet explored - more mysteries to unlock.
Because I was not privy to Frank's disciplinary aims, I had no idea how much more time I would get with this erotic creature. He could decide to end her penalty as soon as the next exit and let her go back to being a typical, attractive, regularly clothed young lady on vacation with her family. Or he could continue her naked punishment for the whole rest of the trip.
I had no idea what the stoic, stubborn soldier's plans were for his rebellious, young stepdaughter. Though, I'm sure you can guess which outcome I was hoping for. All I knew for sure was that I shouldn't waste a single minute of her exposure. As long as the sun kept shining on Mary's beautiful, bare skin, I intended to keep making hay!
When I saw the flash from the trucker's camera, it triggered another flashbulb of sorts - the flash of inspiration. I had no control over the length of Mary's punishment, but with the right equipment, I could preserve this experience in more than just my mental memories. Now that was an idea! But if I was going to pull it off, I would have to work quickly. Time to brainstorm.
Our family technically did own a camera. I had helped pack it among the supplies before we left. But it was an older model from the fifties; frustrating to operate and notorious for taking blurry photos. Even if you held it perfectly still and had excellent lighting, you still only had a tiny, dim, black and white square with hard to decipher details.
If I could get my hands on something better - a basic rig designed for amateur photographers but more modern - I knew enough from getting my photography badge in boy scouts to figure out the rest. I doubted I could get Mary to willingly be photographed without her clothes on. But even if I couldn't cajole her into posing, I could always take candid shots - her riding in the car with her chest exposed, if nothing else. Those pictures would be more valuable than gold!
Color film was a must. I simply had to capture the majesty of those ripe, red berries growing on her creamy, swollen orbs. But color cost extra. I had brought my meager savings and Frank had mentioned giving us some souvenir money for the trip. If I could swing it, I couldn't think of a better way to spend mine than on a new camera!
Feeling our car slow, hope glimmered on Mary's troubled face, and she dared to raise her head to look out the window. Exiting onto a two-lane road gave her a much-needed break from showing herself off to other cars. But the sense of relief passing over her didn't seem to last long. We may be leaving the highway, but she was still completely exposed and heading into a new town full of nice folks who hadn't seen her secret treasures yet. For a naked girl, any public place has the potential to be just as embarrassing as another. Nowhere is truly safe.
After a few more jiggling miles, the road led us directly downtown. The sleepy town's small square was not exactly bustling. But there were apparently too many pedestrians strolling about for Mary's comfort and she immediately curled into a ball when she spotted them. Even though we were about to park, per our agreement, she was supposed to keep her hands under her lap until the car stopped moving. But before I could call foul, I spotted our lunch destination, the local diner, and got distracted. With my mouth salivating, and since we were about to stop anyway, I decided not to make a big deal out of it.
Since it was nearly two, I excitedly scanned the wall of pictures in the windows of the diner. One sign advertised their famous desserts, including delicious, homemade pies. I wondered if I could convince my father to let me order a slice. A growing boy needs sustenance, right? I could practically smell it! Feeling a tug on my sleeve, I looked over to find Mary had grabbed hold of my shirt.
"Psst," she whispered. Being curled up covered most of her body, even with one arm outstretched. Flashing an annoyed look, I dully asked, "What".
"I...I need to use the restroom," she whispered bashfully. Then, even more softly to make sure no one else in our family could eavesdrop, "can I use your jacket again?"
I should have expected that she would once again see me as a potential ally in her quixotic quest for modesty. Other than the nearly see-through nightgown her mother had mediated for her to wear to breakfast that morning, I had been her sole source of clothes on this trip so far. Since eating was higher on my priorities list, the timing of her request could have been more convenient.
I tried to pull away, but she had a death grip on my sleeve. So, I was kind of forced to give her a second look. Even though she was no longer flashing her chest, she was trembling mightily, and taking ragged, anxious breaths. The knuckles grabbing my shirt were also white, like she was terrified that I would abandon her. The ride here, while embarrassing, had at least provided some distance between her bared assets and her audience. Getting out of the car and doing anything in this quaint town would mean far more intimate and up-close encounters with gawking strangers.
But how did she think her little clothing request would play out, exactly? She was crazy if she thought I was going to just hand over my jacket right in front of Frank. What was she going to do, sneak past him while he was busy with his pork chop and hide out in the restroom until it was time to leave again? No. Her half-baked plan was reckless and insane, and I told her so with a forceful shake of my head.
"I can find somewhere else to go," she thought aloud, but still softly, "I'll be careful and will come back before you all are finished with lunch. If he sees me, I...I'll tell him I stole it and...that you had nothing to do with it! He'll never find out. Please, Frank."
I wasn't used to any of my stepsisters speaking to me in anything other than a harsh or derisive tone, except Cindy on occasion. Now, using her sweetest tongue to plead, I was struck by Mary's beautiful voice. I never noticed how nicely her soft, feminine sound matched her soft, feminine body until she was stripped bare and had to beg.
Naked and desperate, she looked like she might start crying again if I didn't do something for her. But just because I was inclined to aid her in her time of need didn't mean I wasn't going to ask something in return. After all, making deals with my naked stepsister was quickly becoming my new favorite hobby. Much like that shrewd man who had mastered the art of making his own luck, I was starting to see that every time she turned to me meant another opportunity to personally benefit.
As my father found an empty spot in front of the diner and rolled the car to a stop, everyone stretched out soreness from the long ride and began gathering up their things. I used the occasion to look out the window and formulate a sounder and less risky proposal.
Her idea to find another restroom far from his watchful eye had merit. But could I really trust her to stay out of sight while wearing my jacket? The diner had a wall of picture windows overlooking the entire square. The only way to be sure she didn't do something reckless, like waltzing around corner in full view of the diner, was if I stayed close enough to keep an eye on her and repossess it, if necessary. Unfortunately for me, that would mean skipping lunch to babysit the unpredictable damsel.
After one last, despondent look at the homemade pies, I made up my mind. Collecting my jacket to signal it was coming with me either way, I pointed across the square and whispered my counteroffer.
"There's no way I'm doing that. It's too risky. But see that hardware store? If you want to walk over there with me, you can wear it once we're inside. Plus, I'm sure they have a restroom."
Mary looked where I was pointing and flinched. In clothes, it wasn't that long a walk. But she wouldn't have any clothes until she got there. I'm sure she had been hoping to avoid baring her body to the good folks of this sleepy town. Traversing their square completely in the nude was the opposite of keeping a low profile. But at least she would have the familiar face of her younger stepbrother to keep her company every step of the way. And she would get to enjoy the benefits of my jacket once we arrived.
I caught her squirming slightly in her seat, probably from her full bladder, while she weighed my offer. Her restroom needs took huddling in the car and doing nothing off the table. And with everyone else unloaded and about to head inside, her time to deliberate was running short. She could come with me and wear my jacket inside the store - getting to feel normal for a little while without constantly sharing her nude state with everyone she encountered. Or she could take her chances without my help, completely naked and alone in a place where she knew nobody.
Technically, there was a third option. She could come inside the diner with the rest of her family and sit down for a nice, nude meal. I'm sure the patrons currently enjoying a late lunch inside would enjoy that very much.
Faced with three undesirable choices, her face fell. A young lady shouldn't have to make such decisions with her modesty always on the chopping block. But if she didn't like being stranded naked on a family vacation, she should have thought of that before trying my father's patience and flaunting his orders. Based on the way she stared longingly at the fabric draped over my forearm, I predicted what she was going to choose before she did it.
"Ok, I'll do it."
It brought a smile to my face that I had so easily arranged another entertaining adventure. And it had cost me nothing! Well, my grumbling stomach reminded me that I was giving up my chance to eat lunch. But it was just one meal. How could some forgettable meatloaf and a slice of pie compete with getting to parade my naked stepsister around a town square?
Pulling my sleeve free from her anxious grasp, I told her to sit tight and climbed out of the car. The whole group turned when I called out to get my father's attention.
"Sir, may I skip lunch and go for a walk instead?"
"You'd rather go for a walk than eat?" he asked, regarding me with skepticism. As a growing teenager, I was always hungry and rarely turned down a chance to eat.
"I'm not hungry, sir. I need to stretch my legs and would like to do some exploring." I met his skeptical eye with a steady gaze of my own, hoping he couldn't hear the rumbling in my stomach. Nodding over my shoulder, I added what I hoped would sound like a plausible excuse for my uncharacteristic behavior. "I, uh, was also hoping to stop in at that hardware store. I have a broken zipper. It may not be salvageable, but thought I could try my hand at mending it."
Frank was a practical man who didn’t like to waste money. I correctly guessed he would support my decision to repair rather than replace something that had broken down and support my admirable efforts. "Very well," he answered curtly. Reaching into his pocket, he even tossed me a nickel to help cover the cost of my supply run. It was cheaper than buying my lunch.
"Thank you, sir," I replied. But I had one more request before he dismissed me. "Mary would also like to accompany me, sir, if that's all right. She's not hungry either and would rather stretch her legs."
Patricia was not happy to hear that proposal. Shaking her head vigorously, she jumped into the conversation to voice her disapproval, "No, no. I-I don't think that's a good-" she started to say but was cut off by her husband.
"Fine," he barked, "be back in an hour."
His unequivocal instructions threw me for a loop. Honestly, I half expected a longer interrogation about my intentions with Mary. But he had made up his mind surprisingly quickly. Was he so annoyed by her sniveling presence that he would send her off with me just for a chance to eat his lunch in peace? Not about to argue or question his ruling, I yelped out a hoarse "yes sir!" before ducking back into the car to hide my shock and retrieve my nude, walking companion.
From outside, I heard Bea exclaim, "Hey, no fair! They're not coming with us?"
Leave it up to her to try and worm her way into the picture and find a way to hijack my fun. It was better to keep her far away from any of our dealings. Something told me, if she learned I was loaning clothes to Mary behind Frank's back, she wouldn't hesitate to use that information against me.
I briefly feared that Patricia would use my meddling, middle stepsister’s protest as an excuse to step in and halt the proceedings. But when I stood back up and saw my father already half-way to the door of the diner, I knew I had nothing to worry about. Frank’s was the only opinion that counted, and he clearly considered the matter settled. Bea could address grievances to her mother all she wanted. It wasn't going to change anything; though that didn't stop her from trying.
Turning to her mother to plead her case, she said, "Mother, I'm not hungry either. And I really need to stretch my legs. May I please go with them?"
"Wait, I wanna go too!", Cindy exclaimed, not about to be left out.
Like a protective, mother hen, if Patricia had her way, she would keep all three of her daughters in her sight - especially the vulnerable one running around with no feathers. But because Frank had already given Mary permission to go with me, she had no way of protecting her. That didn’t mean she couldn’t still keep her two other chicks safely under her wing.
"Now, now, girls, there will be time for walks later," she said, ushering her remaining daughters away from the car and along toward the diner. "Come along, Beatrice. You too, Cynthia. You can stretch your legs at the next stop."
Compliant Cindy obeyed right away, staying close to her mother as ordered. But Bea only reluctantly let herself be dragged along. Glaring back, she caught my eye and stuck out her tongue in protest. Having won this round, I couldn't resist a teasing wink back at her even though I’m sure it would only further antagonize her.
Mary had always been Bea’s strongest ally in the family power dynamic. Being nude on this trip meant she was already compromised. But the last time I had taken her away - for that cave tour - Mary had returned acting even stranger than before; even to the point of giving up trying to maintain her modesty around me in the car.
Bea may not have known how I was exploiting Mary's predicament for my own gain, but that girl was persistent. She would not stop until she had figured out how to neutralize the leverage I had gained over her already weakened ally and restore the balance of familial power in her favor. If she meant to make trouble for me, I had plenty of time to prepare for it. Right now, I had better things to do than pondering the nascent vengeance schemes of Beatrice Rose Conyor. Specifically, it was time to take her sister out for a naked stroll around the town square.
I've replaced zippers. Perhaps a new fastener system is in order--velcro or whatever. Neverdoubted is going to have to describe the jacket more. Does it have a long flap over the broken zipper to keep out the weather or is the zipper exposed? A row of buttons with loops on the opposite side could fix that, and will allow Mary some cover. If the coat is long enough, a belt can be added that will mostly keep the coat closed. Or the zipper might be shortened and the bottom closed with something else. 
Who will be more embarrassed? Mary? Or the womenfolk in the town? Better yet, have the women in town react positively to Naked Mary. Give her encouragement. Praise her. Thank her, even. It's unexcepted.
I hope there are many, many more chapters to come! 