The Last Straw - Chapter 19
Posted: Fri Dec 20, 2024 10:29 pm
by neverdoubted
Our return drive was normal almost to the point of being mundane. Instead of staring nervously out the window, Mary actually kept her focus inside the car - turning sideways to interact some with her sisters. I let her sit casually and wasn't strict about making her sit on her hands. It didn't bother me as long as she wasn’t covering up or hiding anything on purpose.
Bea and Cindy showed off their souvenirs. I don't remember what Bea had picked out, but Cindy had bought a comically oversized pencil that looked like it had been hand-carved from the log of a miniature tree. She also had a large rectangular keychain made of plastic which commemorated the town of New Felicity.
It was such a silly purchase. Too young to drive, the girl didn't even own a key and had no practical use for it. Plus, by the time plastic was even invented, the town had been abandoned for decades. But none of that mattered to Cindy who proudly showed off her souvenirs to her big sister while Mary offered polite platitudes. Ultimately, I didn't care. Just like me with my new camera, Cindy was allowed to use her vacation money on whatever mementos made her happy.
Mary and I hadn't visited the gift shop, but that doesn't mean I didn't have a memento from our day. Reaching into my pack, I pulled out the objects that Percy had left me to see if they held any value.
The lead rope was sturdy and in good shape but pretty plain. The harness, though cleverly designed, was ultimately just lengths of rope and a few pieces of leather knotted together. Given a chance to study it, I could tell that it hadn't taken any specialized tools to produce. With a template and a couple of metal rings, I could have constructed it myself. Its real value lay in Percy’s creative knots that had made it such an effective bridle for my stepsister.
Obviously crafted by someone with knowledge and skill, the large, oval hide brush was more substantial and impressive. It was heavy with thick, with sturdy bristles and a mountain range scene burned directly into the wooden backing. Both ornate and functional, it might be worth a few dollars to the right buyer, but I didn't know for sure.
Our drive was mostly mundane, but it was not without a small hiccup. Trying to get us back to civilization, Frank started to notice the car pulling to one side. Suspecting a slow leak in one of the tires, he saw a sign for a scenic, desert overlook nearby and used it as an excuse to turn off the main path.
Sure enough, the tire was losing air and would have to be changed. Since it was just after midday, Patricia proposed we use the break to eat lunch. I dutifully helped Frank change the tire; wrestling the spare out of the trunk and cranking the jack while he removed the lug nuts. When he asked the girls to help their mother lay out the picnic she had packed, Mary willingly got out of the car and pitched in, even though she didn't have any clothes on.
It probably helped that we were miles away from civilization and down at the end of a barely marked, dirt spur. The chances of being caught naked by anybody outside her family in such a remote setting were extremely low.
With Mary less diligent about keeping her privates covered, I was a little surprised by how our family reacted to clearly seeing her pubic heart for the first time. Judging from the new curves sprouting all over Cindy's body, my youngest stepsister might have started growing hair down there. She was about the right age for it and had to have noticed that Mary's distinctive pubic hair did not match her own growth. But strangely, although I did catch her stealing glances here and there, Cindy never said anything about it. Even more strangely; Bea completely ignored the heart - treating it like it didn't even exist.
From the way Patricia frowned the first time she saw it, I thought she might say something to Mary. But she held her tongue waiting for her husband to weigh in.
While Frank was given plenty of chances to notice Mary's unorthodox physical adornment, he also stayed silent. But why should he be upset or voice any disapproval he may feel? She was acting like a model daughter for once - agreeing to help her mother serve lunch without arguing, getting along with her siblings, and no longer sneering derisively every time he opened his mouth to say something. He would take this Mary any day over the one he normally had to deal with.
We ate on a blanket in the shade of a scraggly tree. And except for one of us being completely naked, it was the most ordinary and pleasant experience of our vacation so far. I took a secret pride in Mary's stunning attitude improvement. And while my father didn't come out and say it, he knew how much time she and I had been spending together. I think he was pleased with what I had accomplished.
After lunch, while Patricia was packing up, the girls and I made the short walk to check out the overlook. It wasn't dramatically better than some of the other scenes we had driven past, but it was technically a little higher than the surrounding area and made a pretty good place to survey the dusty, cactus-dotted expanse below.
Seeing an opportunity, I got out my camera and offered to take their picture to immortalize the moment. Cindy squealed with delight when Mary unexpectedly agreed. As the girls got together in front of the overlook, I positioned myself a few steps back, framed them in the viewfinder, and called out, "Say Cheese".
Standing on one side, beaming Cindy blurted out an excited, "CHEEEEESE!". For the first time all vacation, she was getting to do something with her sisters all together. She always did love being part of the group. On the other side, Bea preened like she always did - making sure her hair was perfect before showing out for the lens. And in the very middle stood Mary - posing buck naked with her arms around her sisters. Even though every inch of her body was uncovered, including her cute, little pubic heart, she seemed relaxed and at ease.
Caught up in Cindy's exuberance, she even mustered a little smile of her own - softly saying "cheese" and letting her lips curl upward into a subtle, but beautiful smile just as I took the photo. Her smile faded quickly as the clicking shutter activated her sense of modesty and reality came seeping back. But briefly, it sure seemed like she had forgotten her troubles and was just enjoying the moment.
Leaving the overlook, we loaded into the station wagon and were soon on our way back to civilization. Since the dirt road was too bumpy to nap, I kept myself entertained by watching Mary's breasts jiggle and bounce. But I admit I did drift off a few times after we reached the paved highway - even with the girls chattering excitedly the whole time.
Though the Gushing Gully Motel had a decent swimming pool, we hadn't yet been able to try it out. But today, we arrived back in plenty of time for a late afternoon dip. Frank dropped us off, but did not stay. He needed to visit a mechanic to get our tire patched before we set off tomorrow.
Entering the same room we had slept in before, the girls grabbed their swimsuits and rushed to the bathroom to change. Without a suit to wear to the pool, Mary wasn't about to go swimming with the rest of us. But she did join them in the bathroom for another reason. It turns out a naked girl tends to attract a lot more dirt than one with clothes. Covered in dust from head to toe, her feet caked and her normally pristine skin marred by smudges and grime, she was in dire need of a good, long soak.
Once Patricia left with the other girls, I finally had enough privacy in the main room to feel comfortable changing. Swapping out my day clothes for swim trunks, I grabbed my towel and headed for the pool. As you would expect for a hot, summer day, it was crowded.
Under the watchful eye of her mother, Cindy was already in line for the diving board. Bea had laid out her towel in a prominent location and was soaking up the sun along with plenty of looks from boys. Her swimsuit was modest enough to pass muster with Patricia's strict standards. But a beautiful, blonde teenager doesn't need an especially skimpy swimsuit to attract attention. A fit body, long legs, and a healthy bust will usually do the trick.
I swam around for a few minutes before getting out to use the restroom. That's when I noticed the pool did not have a restroom. I guess they figured everyone would just use the ones in their rooms right next door. But Mary was using ours at the moment which left me with nowhere to go.
I hadn't been able to pee since we stopped at the overlook and really needed to go, but the closest side of the motel faced the road and offered no privacy. Improvising, I made for the stairwell which formed a walkway through to the back of the building. Looking for a tree or something else to go behind, I wasn't paying attention backward and didn't notice someone following me through the breezeway.
There was nothing much on the back of the building besides weeds and a drainage ditch. A few large trees grew at the far edge of the property, but every room in the motel did have a window facing this direction which made me wary of venturing too far out. Instead, I turned my back to the stairwell and just hugged the wall.
Opening my trunks and pulling out my penis so I could pee against the brickwork in no way rivaled Mary's humiliating state of total public exposure. But the small twinge of modesty I felt did get me thinking about her. She had gifted me with so many erotic scenes on this trip that I was starting to lose count. It was a shame my libido hadn't been able to benefit from them yet.
Just thinking about how much fun I was going to have once I found some private time prompted my cock to swell to full mast once I had finished peeing. I will admit to reaching down and giving it a squeeze. And let me tell you - it felt sooooo good! The greater than expected ache for relief stayed my hand and caused it to linger just a little longer than it should have. But I swear I had absolutely no intention of playing with myself in such a risky location.
"Frankie? What are you doing back here?" a familiar voice broke me out of my reverie.
Startled, I yanked my trunks up and spun around to find Bea squinting at me. When she looked down and saw the stiff bulge in my shorts, her eyes went wide.
"Oh my gosh! Were you cranking yourself?!" she exclaimed as a surprised smile broke out on her face.
"What? NO! I-I-I was just...using the restroom!" I tried to explain. But she had already convinced herself it was something else. I'm sure my guilty expression and deep blush weren't helping.
"Oh, just admit it, Frankie," she teased, "or should I call you...CRANKIE!"
Had I been thinking clearly, I would have pointed to the fresh urine running down the bricks as proof of my innocence. But flustered and in a rush to end the encounter, I just growled, "Shut it, Beatrice!", and brushed past her into the stairwell.
I returned to the pool and tried to forget about it. But a little while later, I saw Bea whispering into the ear of one of the new friends she had made. When the other girl, who was looking right at me, raised her eyebrows and covered her mouth, I could guess what they were talking about.
Too embarrassed to stick around, I climbed out of the pool, dried off and left. By the time I got back to our room, I was steaming. Once Bea had something on you, like a terrible nickname, she wouldn't let it go. It made me so mad! And the worst part, I wasn't even doing anything when she caught me...mostly.
Reasoning with her was a dead end, and asking for an apology would go nowhere.
"Might as well forget about that," I thought to myself, "Everyone always bends over backwards as soon as she flutters her eyelashes at them. Why would she ever apologize when, as far as she knows, she's never done something wrong in her life? That girl is just too stubborn for her own good...and too pretty."
…
...where had I heard that before?
I had already conjured a potential way to get back at her after she ruined my good night's sleep last night. And watching her spread vicious rumors about me around the pool convinced me to put my plan into action. Just like her name, Beatrice Rose Conyor had been a thorn in my side far too long. But this was the last straw. It was time to fight fire with fire - or rather...water.
Getting out my pocketknife, I climbed onto the bed so I could access the pipe on the ceiling. I easily cut a trough in the insulation but intentionally wedged it back in place for later. Stepping to the floor, I looked up and saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Having put my payback scheme into motion, I felt a lot better. Not well enough to go back to the pool, but better. I was looking around for my pack to find something else to do, when my eyes landed on the bathroom door. If I had to guess, the girls had left it unlocked after changing into their suits. There was an easy way to test that theory.
Striding toward the bathroom, I reached for the handle and felt it turn in my grasp. When I flung it open without knocking, Mary - who was standing in the middle of the room - scrambled to clutch the towel wrapped around her body with her left hand, as if worried it might flap open. Under normal circumstances, she would be screaming at me to get out about now. It just goes to show how much our relationship had changed that, once she saw it was me, there was no screaming or shooing.
While she wasn't yelling or throwing things, she did have a strange, almost guilty, expression on her face.
"Everything ok?" I asked, stepping fully into the bathroom and closing the door behind me.
"You just startled me. That's all," she replied, shuffling nervously where she stood with her body partially turned away from me, "Um, what are you doing here?"
"I was just checking on you," I replied, proving my statement by taking a moment to visually inspect her. She appeared to be finished with her bath, as evidenced by the draining tub, fluffy towel around her freshly washed body, and second one wrapped around her head like a turban.
Tucked tightly under her arms, the main towel left her shoulders bare and made the top half of her breasts bulge obscenely over the top - further magnifying her always impressive cleavage. Below that, it did a pretty good job hiding her body. But the shape of her alluring figure was still easily detectable beneath the white terrycloth.
The towel stopped abruptly just below her privates. That left her long, curvaceous legs completely bare. She had done a thorough job removing all the dirt and grime from her fair skin. Her legs looked incredibly smooth, like she might have just shaved them. But something about the way she continued to clutch the bottom flap of the towel protectively bothered me. I thought she had gotten over her modesty around me. What was the point of hiding it now?
This counted as the second outfit I had seen her in today. And while there was something incredibly sexy about seeing her all nice and clean with nothing but a bath towel on, in my personal opinion, she would look better without it.
A smile crossed my face when it dawned on me that removing her towel was actually a viable option. Mary had listened to me when I confidently told her that morning that she should wear her hair in a braid. It's almost like, the more I learned to put conviction in my voice and certainty to my actions, the more she respected my opinions and was willing to follow my lead.
I made up my mind. That towel was not serving her in any meaningful way. She might prefer its temporary coverage, but because she couldn't keep wearing it once she left the safety of the bathroom, it would be better for her to get used to not wearing one at all. It would also make me exceedingly happy to see my gorgeous stepsister returned to her much more attractive, totally nude state.
Without bothering to ask permission, I took a confident step forward and casually reached for the knot in her towel. As if I were its true owner and had come to reclaim it, I tugged the knot free. Mary turned her back to me but did not argue or resist as the towel lost all its gripping power and slowly unwound itself from her naked torso. My smile widened as her massive, gravity-defying breasts were freed. She did not try to cover them, but her slumping posture indicated a certain bashfulness that I did not appreciate or value.
Dropping the towel on the ground as if it meant nothing to me but was still mine to do with as I pleased, I grabbed her slumping shoulders and pulled them up. Then I pressed my palm firmly into her back to get her to straighten her spine. In the sink mirror's reflection, I watched her breasts swell and expand to their proper size as she reluctantly let me correct her posture.
This was Mary at her best. This was the way her full chest was meant to be displayed and appreciated. It was a shame she always did everything in her power to diminish the majesty of her spectacular homegrown bosom and other physical assets. It's like she had some deep-seated aversion to showing off her unbelievable curves.
Even now, with her trusted stepbrother the only one around to witness her erotic anatomical presentation, she still had a look of fear plastered across her face. I wished I could convince her that she had nothing to be ashamed of - quite the opposite! But in her mind, she was still that insecure, thirteen-year-old girl wearing her new bra to church for the first time - feeling as if the eyes of everyone were watching her walk down the aisle and worrying about how tightly her homemade dress was being stretched in unseemly and embarrassing spots.
Watching her tantalizing nipples stiffen in the open air, I embarked upon a slow walk around her naked body so I could fully appreciate every dimension of her large, healthy endowment. When I got three-quarters of the way around, I averted my gaze from her tits and looked down expecting to see my first glimpse of her fuzzy, freshly washed pubic heart. When I saw a foamy white substance instead, I froze and blinked in surprise. What was that doing there?
Taken aback, I reappraised her and, for the first time, noticed she was holding a razor in her right hand. It was down by her hip opposite me, as if she were trying to keep it concealed. Unless I was mistaken...she was getting ready to shave off her heart!
"Mary Jane Conyor, what is the meaning of this?" I demanded to know, rising up to my full height as my stern, and surprisingly deep, voice resonated loudly around the tiled room.
Mary shrank back from me and automatically replied, "I'm sorry, sir," as if it were her stepfather chastising her instead of me. "I-I-I was just..." but she had no excuse for her bad behavior.
As far as I was concerned, that heart belonged to me now just as much as her. She had no right to alter or remove it without my blessing. But that's precisely what I had walked in on her doing. That explained her jitteriness when I first entered. She thought she had found a loophole in our deal. And if I hadn't arrived when I did, it might have been too late.
Women!
Luckily, though she had already shaved her legs to a silky smoothness, she hadn't yet done anything to her abdomen other than applying the shaving cream. I took a step toward her intending to yank the razor safely out of her hand. But then I noticed something that gave me pause. She had carefully applied the cream to completely cover our heart. But though she also had a healthy amount of pubic hair growing between her legs and masking her sex, she had not bothered to apply any cream down there.
Her frequent lack of clothes had made it nearly impossible to keep the distinctive and embarrassing shape of her pubic hair a secret from everyone around her. For that reason alone, she would happily remove the heart from her abdomen. But she had no intention of giving up its concealing qualities between her legs. With no clothes, that hair was frequently the only thing keeping her sex hidden from public view.
She had to pay a price for trying to deny me my fairly-traded petting rights. And seeing how much she must still value the protective covering down there, I knew exactly what to do. It was only fair. The punishment must fit the crime.
Reaching down, I drew a horizontal line across her mound, just above the start of her cleft.
"Anything above this line is mine," I growled, "you may tidy it up, but do not remove it completely. Understand?"
She nodded meekly and smartly kept her mouth shut.
"Good. Shave everything below the line. Not a single hair left."
Her mouth fell open, but before she could argue or conjure a protest, I spun on my heels and marched right out of the bathroom.
Just when I thought it couldn't get any better...it gets better!