Author: Spunk N. Wagnels
Title: (SNW) Not With My Daughter! 30
Part: 30
Universe: Not With My Daughter! Saga
Summary: Marnie and her sister-in-law carry out a plan to ease telling 
their husbands the humiliation they are going through while Brenda gets a 
temporary tattoo.
Keywords: exhibition, humiliation, forced nudity, bond, nc

The following is adult fiction intended for legally mature adults to view at
their discretion, where and when it is legal to do so.  Similarity to persons,
living or dead is coincidence.  All rights are reserved by the author.
Permission is granted to archive in places where adults can legally view it free
of charge, and as long as no words are changed, including this disclaimer.

This is a continuation of a story, "Not With My Daughter!" & "Not With My
Daughter!, Parts 2-29" which can be found at "Spunk's Place" (See at bottom) 


Not With My Daughter!  Part 30
by Spunk N. Wagnels

Marnie watched through the front window at Roger washing the car in the
driveway, waiting for Ginger or someone else to arrive.  She got up to answer
the phone just as a car pulled up across the driveway.  "Hello."  She said
trying to get back to the window to watch.  "Sally can I call you right back?
They're here."

She went back to the window to watch two sexy young ladies talk to Roger, who
had stopped washing the car to admire these two sensual creatures paying
attention to him.  One of them held up a pair of handcuffs and dangled them with
a devilish smile.  Roger smiled and put his hands behind his back, and laughed
nervously as he stood still for them to blindfold him and escort him to their
car.

Marnie went back to the phone and called Sally back.  "They've got him."  She
said.  ". . . Okay, you call Betty and I'll call Barb."

"Barb? . . .  Yeah, they should be on their way now."  Marnie advised.  "Yeah, I
know it isn't the season for the United Way fundraising, or for the 'buy your
way out of jail' technique but these women are good.  They arrested Roger and
Ron without them suspecting a thing.  I'm sure George will go along just fine.
Come over for some Bridge when he's gone and we'll all wait it out together."

A while later, Marnie, Barbara, and Sally were all waiting at Marnie's house and
fretting over the tardiness of Betty.  "What do you suppose is keeping her?"
Sally worried.

"I don't know, but until we take care of Larcher, anything could have happened.
Let's go over to her place and check."  Marnie suggested.

When they got to Betty's place, they stopped short of the driveway and watched
as Paul was led away, still romantically clinging to Betty's hand until their
fingertips finally parted.  Betty waved smiling as he was led off to the waiting
car.  When the ladies pulled into the driveway right after it left, Betty ran to
the car.

"What's been keeping you so long?"  Sally asked.

"Oh, it was just some mix ups like the jailers not understanding the directions
to get here, and Paul was doing some important work so I asked them to wait
until he was done before coming over.  But, anyway, he's off."  Betty explained.
"What do you want to do, come inside and wait?"

"Is your hot tub up to snuff?"  Sally asked.

"Sure, it's running fine." Betty replied.

"Well, I'd be up for that.  Maybe it would settle my jangled nerves"  Sally said
with anticipation.

"I could be up for that too."  Barb added.

"Let's go."  Marnie declared.

Nobody had suits except Betty, so they all agreed to go in au naturale.   As
they settled into the warm bubbly water, Barbara asked, "Do you realize what we
have done?"

"Well, yeah, but what do you mean?"  Sally asked back.

"We've sent our men into the arms of professional women to make them feel guilty
enough to accept the things that have happened to us.  I can't believe I went
along with this so easily."  Barbara declared.

"How else can we save our marriages the way they are now, but to have our
husbands go through something similar to what we have been through?  If we were
just to tell them, they would try to understand, but they would never see us the
same way, and they might even turn on us altogether, even though it's not our
fault."  Marnie explained.

"But what if they see it as a signal that they should be out making it with
other women?"  Betty asked insecurely.

"Paul loves you and is devoted to you.  We all can tell.  You don't have to
worry about him straying.  He could never find a more beautiful devoted wife
than you, Bee."  Marnie encouraged.  The others nodded their agreement with the
statement.

"Thank you."  Betty acknowledged.

"Sally, what are you doing."  Barbara asked with curious suspicion.

"Oh, nothing."  Sally said, sitting back down.

"You're looking kinda red-faced there."  Barbara teased.

"Well, if you're not going to let it go, the jet was helping me with the tension
a little."  Sally confessed.

In defense of her sister-in-law, Marnie reared herself up a bit and aimed a jet
between her legs.  "This is kinda cool."  She admitted.

Sally glanced an embarrassed thank you Marnie's way and Barbara, realizing that
Marnie has a way of turning her on to fun things, tried a jet, as Sally did
again, feeling less embarrassed this time with the new majority.  

"You ladies are being crude."  Betty declared to the smiling trio.

"Com'on Betty, this is your hot tub.  You can't mean to tell us, your closest
friends, here and now, that you have never humped one of these jets."  Sally
challenged back.

Now it was Betty's turn at embarrassment.  She looked down for a moment, then
hoisted her rear, looked up and smiled, causing the four of them to burst out
laughing.  They laughed for a moment until Barbara started to groan a worried
groan, as the sensations started building in a crescendo taking control of her
will.  She closed her eyes, scrunched up her face, and started to get dizzy.  No
longer concerned that she was about to climax in front of three of her closest
friends, she moved closer to the jet, and humped her rear against it trying to
get the most stimulation possible out of the bubbly stream.  Barbara was
experiencing what Sally and Marnie wanted to achieve so badly, and they closed
their eyes and started their own trajectory to orgasmic nirvana against their
jets as well.  Betty, satisfied that having a climax in the presence of her
friends would no longer humiliate her, started in as well.

One after another, starting with Barbara and ending with Marnie, who managed to
work out two orgasms, the women clipped their horns with the jets of fizzy
water.  As they luxuriated, Barbara put her arm around Betty and Marnie put hers
around Sally, as the pairs, sitting across form each other, mellowed out in the
tub.  "I wonder what the boys are up to right now."  Sally posed.

In a large turn of the century Victorian home in the suburbs, sat each of the
husbands in different rooms with blindfolds still over their eyes and their
hands still cuffed behind them.  "Okay, when do I get to call and have someone
bail me out?"  Roger asked only half trustingly when he knew someone was in the
room.

"Which one are you?  Are you Roger?"  The voice asked.

"Yes Ma'am.  Now when can I make that call?  I've got work to do, and this is
starting to lose the fun aspect of this form of giving to charity." Roger asked.

"We've spread it around that you are in a charity jail and no one seems to want
to come forward to make your bail."  She said.

"Just let me call my wife, she'll bail me out."  He said.

"What's the number, I'll dial it for you?"  She offered.  He told her, she
pushed the numbers in, and held the phone up to his ear for him.

"Damn, it's the goddamn answering machine.  Where could she be?  Look I'll pay
the bail, just let me go back to work.  How much is it?"  He asked.

"Five hundred dollars will let you free right now.  Would you like me to check
your pockets for you?"  She said grazing her hand on his upper thigh, following
his shorts up close to his crotch. 

"Ah, ah no.  I don't have that kind of money on me right now."  He confessed.

"'Tis a pity.  If we don't get bail for you soon, you'll just have to work it
off.  How does that sound?"  She asked.

"Ah, work it off?  Like what do you have in mind?  I'm good at sales."  He
offered.

"A good looking guy like you, it's not salesmanship we'll be interested in.
Here, stand up"  She said, helping him rise from the bed he was sitting on.
Then she started to glide her hands over his body.

As it appeared that her hands were going to move from his butt to his groin, he
piped up.  "Can we try calling my wife again?"

"Sure," she said, "but if you can't get through, we'll have to start putting you
to work to earn your bail."

She dialed the number he gave her again.  "Damn it to hell!  Where is she?"
Then as she put the receiver down and her thumb in the waistband of his shorts,
he hurriedly said, "My daughter, please let me get in touch with my daughter."
The woman agreed.  "Crandel's, what is the Crandel's number?"  he mumbled.

"I'm only dialing numbers you give me, nothing more than that."   She declared.

"Try . . ."  Roger gave her a number which she tried and nobody answered.

Brenda was with Jimmy Crandel at an art supply store to buy artist brushes.
"Yes I can help you with that," the salesperson responded, "what will they be
used for?"

"We were gonna paint a little henna on for fun."  Brenda disclosed.

"Like temporary tattoos?"  Brenda nodded and was pleased that she had run into
someone who might know something about it.  "May I suggest getting a little
India ink to go along with it.  It will help you create more of a range of
tattoo colors."

"Okay."  Brenda replied.  "It sounds like you've done this kind of thing before.
Could you give me some pointers?

"I'm due for a break here in a couple of minutes, I'll paint one on for you, if
you like."  She offered.

"That would be swell."  Brenda said exchanging a smile of anticipation with
Jimmy.

They waited for a few minutes until the salesperson named Alicia could get free.
She showed Brenda how to mix drops of India ink into batches of henna for
different shadings in an employee room that she had locked.  Then Alicia asked,
"What would you like and where would you like it?

"I don't know, but I want to be able to cover  it with a swim suit."

"Well, something like a butterfly or a flower?"  Alicia offered.

"I don't know."  Brenda squirmed.

"We're studying caveman paintings in school," Jimmy offered, "and one of the
things we learned about was how the cavemen would put their hand on the wall and
spit paint over it to make an outline of their hands on the stone."

"That's interesting, but we're not putting this stuff in our mouths."  Alicia
declared emphatically.

"No, but Jimmy gave me an idea.  How about a hand on a breast?"  Brenda
suggested.

"It's your body, and it will wear off."  Alicia reminded.

"Okay then, like the hand is holding the breast?"  Brenda suggested, as she took
off her blouse.

As she was starting to take off her bra, Alicia told Jimmy, "You can wait
outside.  This will only take a few minutes."

"No, my brother has seen me naked since before I grew breasts," Brenda said with
a clandestine wink to Jimmy, "he's cool."  Jimmy looked redeemed when he heard
Brenda lying on his behalf.

"Well, hands are hard to draw, so do you mind me tracing his hand on your
breast."  Jimmy's eyes brightened and his face turned red.

"Being family, that would be okay."  Brenda said stifling a snicker.

Jimmy was shown how to place his hand on Brenda's breast.  It was adjusted a
couple of delicious times until they created just the right angle for it.
Alicia traced a thin outline and then filled in details giving Brenda the
appearance of a hand grabbing her breast. Looking in a mirror,  Brenda said,
"That looks great Alicia.  I don't suppose I could talk you into doing the other
side, could I?"  Brenda asked, wanting to be symmetric with it.

"I suppose I have enough time."  She responded. 

Jimmy got an opportunity to get his other hand on Brenda's other breast, and
watched intently at the artist working her craft.  Brenda's eyes closed for
moments when the tickling bristles grew too intense for her to continue
pretending that they were having no effect on her.  When Alicia finished with
the second hand, they stood on either side of Brenda in the mirror admiring the
artistry.  After Jimmy and Alicia blew for awhile on her breasts to make sure
they were completely dry, Brenda dressed, thanked Alicia, took her supplies and
left with Jimmy to go to a movie.

At the Victorian house, the woman had pulled Roger's shorts down around his
knees, making him more helpless to resist than he already was with his hands
cuffed behind his back.  He no longer was on board with the "bail for charity"
idea, and was merely frozen with fear trying to will his cock to stay down in
the face of the stimulation she was now applying to it.

"My, my, the missus must be pleased with you."  She teased.  Then she put her
hand under his tank top and started to rub his nipples, watching as the
stimulation there caused his penis to stand at greater attention and twitch a
bit.  "Looks like you're happy to see me.  Oh, but you can't see me."  She
giggled.  "Come on in here ladies."  She said to footsteps walking at the door.
Roger's head started to turn from side to side as he tried to back up, but the
bed impeded any effort in that vein.  "The prisoner is unable to raise bail."
She explained while molesting his balls as if she were checking for soft spots
in fruits or vegetables.  As Roger heard the voices of the other ladies talking
about his display, he tried to make a hopeless run for what he guessed was the
door.  Three ladies at the door blocked him.  One put one hand on his balls and
the other on his shoulder, and another had both of her hands on his other
shoulder, as they backed him up to the bed again.  "Another foolish move like
that, and we'll crack these eggs and have them for breakfast.  Got it?"

Fear swept over his body from head to toe.  He didn't have a clue what was
happening to him.  "Where is Marnie?  And what will she think about this?"  He
wondered.  "How do I get out of here?  What is going to happen next?" were the
questions swirling in his brain.

"What do you suppose the boys are doing right now?"  Marnie said to the ladies,
that she and Barbara had convinced to lie in the backyard nude in the sun.

"I don't know Marn, but this feels delicious to bake in the sun without any
clothes like this.  How did you ever come to discover out how nice it feels?"
Betty asked.

"You never did this in this private backyard you have here?  Ever?"  Sally
challenged.

"No.  I didn't think it was decent."  Betty replied.

"Now what do you think about it?"  Marnie asked.

"It feels great.  I just wouldn't want anybody to know."

"Paul will know, unless you change in the dark."  Barbara pointed out.

"Paul, yes I wonder what they have up their sleeve for him?  I can't help but
feel a little insecure and jealous over this."  Betty bemoaned.

"There you go again.  You'd feel differently if Larcher had already had his way
with you."  Sally said.

"Did somebody say my name?"  The man said entering the backyard through the
gate.  The women screamed and scrambled for their clothes.  "Ladies, Ladies,
Ladies, no need for modesty here, I've seen it all before."

"You've studied it on tape, you bastard."  Sally snapped back.

"I would have thought that you, of all people, would have learned to be more
polite to me."  Larcher said sarcastically.

"This is trespassing.  I'll have you arrested for this."  Betty said between
Marnie and Barbara from behind them.

"There will be plenty of time for that, after we discuss your breaking and
entering my place, stealing my things, and not attending your own trial on the
matters.  Missy and Blondie put up the best defense they could for you, but you
might question their friendship, if you could have seen how lame it really was."

"Larcher, leave her alone.  She's sorry.  She will never intersect with your
life ever again."  Marnie said looking over her shoulder at the frightened Betty
who nodded emphatically her agreement with Marnie's words.  Besides, you are off
your home turf and you are way outnumbered here."

"Not if you consider that Jeff and a few friends are poised outside where Brenda
is and are waiting for word from me."  He said, holding up his cell phone for
emphasis.

"I don't think you would cause harm to Brenda anymore.  I think you actually
like her as a person, and might even care about her in a fatherly way."  Marnie
said bravely calling his bluff.

"After all this time, you don't seem to have gotten to know me very well,
Missy."  He said punching in some numbers.

"No wait!"  Marnie said panicked.  "What do you want of us?"

"It's the weekend and I want to party.  Here is a perfect place, if that leisure
suited geek isn't gonna be around.  I'd like to have Frenchie all to myself for
the afternoon."  Larcher declared.

Sally moved over to Betty's side, leaned in and said, "It's best to cooperate
with him until we can," then whispering, "can work our plan." 

What's the secret?" Larcher asked a little insecure.

"I think she'll cooperate."  Sally said.

"Listen to her, Frenchie, she should know."  Larcher said.  Then there were
voices and clanging as others appeared through the gate.  "Well I hope Mr.
Frenchie is not coming home soon, it will be tough for you to explain this to
him, won't it.  Okay Boys, party time."  Larcher said greeting his friends.

The partygoers arranged chairs, got down to their underwear, and raided the bar
and fridge.  The ladies huddled their naked bodies together, not having been
allowed to dress, watching the activities of the men and one evilly grinning
woman milling about.  Larcher put music on a boombox, and everyone started
drinking and talking, ignoring the naked ladies except to have them get them
refills, pass around snacks, or hold drinks as human casters momentarily from
time to time.

At the Victorian mansion, a party was underway where the husbands, still
oblivious to the fact that their friends were there in the house with them, were
being prepared to entertain a party assembling as well.  They were being kept in
a constant state of arousal by Ginger and her friends rotating visits to each of
them, playing with their minds in conversation, and playing with their bodies as
musicians might, getting the most out of their instruments.

Roger and the others were disrobed altogether and made to wear a satin collar
with a ridiculous bow-tie attached, and loose white cuffs, complete with fancy
cufflinks, which took away from the sight of the handcuffs now attached in
front.  In turn, the men were led into a large room on the main floor.  There
they made a solo round of greeting each one of the guests, made up of mothers,
grandmothers and friends of Ginger and her cohorts.  They were given seven inch
silver trays which they were required to place under their balls, lifting them
as if serving them up for the pleasure of the guests.  Most of the guests
touched Roger's genitals with their thumb and fingers as if picking up hors
d'oeuvres, giggling at the novelty of the offering.  With his blindfold now off,
and his bewilderment at being humiliated in front of this room full of women, he
was in a state of shock until his trial.

A sixty or seventy-something lady, nicknamed Hooveretta, was brought forward to
the cheers of the audience.  She sat down smiling in a chair facing sideways to
the rest of the ladies.  Ginger announced that there was going to be a trial by
fire.  She explained, mostly for Roger's benefit, that if he could keep himself
from firing before two minutes was up, then he would be set free.  However, if
he were to fire before the allotted time, that he would be made to satisfy five
women in the room before he was allowed to go free, one for each of the hundred
dollars of bail.

He was made to stand with his cuffed hands behind his head, enforced by a token
tying off of the links to the satin collar.  Ginger pushed him to between
Hooveretta's open knees with her hands on the small of his back.  Hooveretta
turned to the audience and smiled as she tweaked Roger's buns with her fingers.
Then she looked up at the horrified Roger, took out her upper and lower
dentures, and grinned a devilish grin.  Roger nearly puked, but as she sucked in
his cock across her gums, new sensations took over.  As repulsed as Roger was
feeling about having this done to him, in front of an audience yet, the unique
sensation this obviously skilled sucktress was creating took over his brain.  As
wonderful as Marnie's oral stimulations had been in the last year, these
sensations were electrifying.  He was forced to close his eyes to block out the
repulsion of being sucked by a granny Hoover machine.  In addition to the gum
sucking, she delighted in pulling down on his scrotum as if she were stroking a
beard causing him further distraction.  It wasn't long before he was shooting
his load into her waiting mouth to the cheers of all those present.  

His humiliation and embarrassment washed over him such that he went wide-eyed,
fighting for each breath, while he was led back to his room to await his first
of five labors of lovemaking.  Then George was led to the room to a similar
fate.

The party at Betty and Paul's house was in full swing by now and Larcher called
for some entertainment.  He requested that Betty dance to a section of
Offenbach's "Orpheus In The Underworld", but on his CD of  "International
Classical Favorites", it was labeled "The Can-Can".  As soon as the music
started to play, Betty knew in her fiber what she should do, as the dance
associated with the music seemed automatic.  Her embarrassment was so intense,
however, that she was emotionally and physically shutdown.  Sally and Marnie,
recognizing how irritated Larcher was becoming at Betty's seeming refusal to
cooperate, got up and each took one of her arms and started hopping and high
kicking, as they must have done as girls whenever they heard that particular
music.  Eventually, Betty came to, and with appreciation for her friends'
joining her humiliating ordeal, got into the rhythm and started high-kicking
with the two of them.  Sally waved to Barbara to join them.  She waved it off
and then saw Larcher moving his head for her to join in line.  Now the four of
them were hopping and kicking like Rockettes or a naked version of a chorus line
right out of the Moulin Rouge.  No longer concerned by their flapping breasts
and flashing pussies, they actually looked like they might be enjoying
themselves.

Larcher replayed the cut a couple of times, because as entertaining as the sight
was to watch, the four women started to act like they were disassociated from
the audience and actually getting in to it, and he was frustrated that it didn't
appear humiliating enough to them.  When he finally switched to background party
music again, the women actually appeared exhilarated from the dance.  The
annoyed Larcher gruffly ordered Betty over in front of him.  He ordered her to
squat and pull down his briefs.  Betty tried to look away from his uncut
semi-turgid cock at her eye level, but he commanded, "Put it in your mouth
whore.".
 
No, please, I don't do that sort of thing."  Betty pleaded.

"Of course you do, or at least you fantasize about doing it.  Anybody who
chooses to wear a Parisian whore costume to a party secretly fantasizes that she
is a whore.  Now live out that fantasy and suck on it, suck on it good."
Larcher directed.  Then while she was getting her nerve together to place his
cock in her mouth, Larcher made motions to link up three of his friends with
Marnie, Sally, and Barbara.

"Marnie, Marnie, what am I going to do?"  Barbara bleated in panic.

"Do what they say for now."  Marnie advised.

"But, I didn't do anything wrong like you guys."  She pleaded, and Larcher
laughed, telling her that it didn't make any difference.  "No, no, I can't."
She protested.

Larcher's sleazy friend standing in front of her grabbed her hair and forced her
head back with such determination that Barbara realized she'd better cooperate,
rather than to tempt this unpredictable monster controlling the angle of her
head.  She winced and closed her eyes, not ready to accept the gristle pole
before her just yet, when Larcher's woman friend came to her side and
unceremoniously pinched her nipple hard, causing Barbara to open her eyes and
mouth wide in surprise at the sudden and intense pain.  Then in went the stiff
cock, with a fist of her hair still taught to insure that she would remain
appropriate with her teeth.

By this time George was now back in his room at the mansion, not ready to use
his cock just yet to satisfy the woman at the bedside.  The women had the choice
of leaving the blindfold on or off.  She decide to have it on, not so much as to
prevent him from seeing her as to allow her to be free from having to deal with
his expressions and wants.  When she couldn't get his cock back up with her
hand, she through it down onto his balls and climbed onto the bed straddling his
face, facing his crotch.  With his arms pinned to his belly, he could do nothing
to influence her smothering crotch but to give her what she desired.  When he
would get her worked up with his tongue, she would rise up a bit and he could
catch up on his breathing.  

And so it went well into the evening for each of the husbands.  They used hands,
cocks, noses, lips, knees, and, of course, tongues to satisfy their quota of
five women, but since it all blended together, they couldn't be sure how many
they each ended up satisfying in all.  With a staggered release, they were
driven home after dark.  Their well fucked wives were already waiting for them
just as sorry a lot as they were.

"Hi honey.  Where have you been all day?"  Brenda delighted in being able to say
finally, rather than being on the receiving end of it.

"I got roped in unsuspectingly to do some charity work."  Roger said, acting a
little embarrassed.

"Oh?  And what kind?"  Marnie probed.

"Some group raising money for a variety of causes I guess."  He answered.

"You guess?"  Marnie pushed.

"I'm beat.  Can we talk about it in the morning?"  Roger said hopefully.

"Sure Honey, but it's Saturday night.  You are going to put me to sleep in
style, aren't you?"  Marnie asked seductively.

Roger moped after he turned wearily up the stairs, hoping she wouldn't see.
"I've got to shower first."  He said turning back toward her.

His mind raced around thoughts of what to say, what to do, which was the only
thing keeping him awake at all.  The tension and exertion of the day had taken
its toll.  Marnie, already having showered, was waiting for him sprawled out on
the turned down bed in a transparent nightie awaiting her lover and husband for
all of these years.  He saw her ready and waiting, the one woman he really
wanted to satisfy, holding out her arms for him to come to bed.

With love and guilt, he crawled up between her legs and kissed her nether lips
then proceeded to give her the best cunnilingus he could muster before he passed
out asleep between her legs kneeling off the foot of the bed.  Marnie lifted,
tugged, and rolled him into bed, satisfied that she would be able to talk to him
about her situation with a level playing field now, save her marriage, and be
done with Larcher once and for all.

Brenda let Jimmy stay up later than she normally would to watch TV.  During the
commercials Jimmy was having her get up and do crunches, pushups, leg raises,
and stretches, acting as her personal trainer for the weekend.  She humored him
by doing them in just her panties, so he could "observe that the muscle groups
were working properly."  They both were curious about the look of the two hands
lovingly grasping each of Brenda's breasts.  Brenda allowed Jimmy to add
Polaroid pictures of her adornments to his collection of pictures.  During the
programs, Brenda allowed the thrilled Jimmy to sit behind her on the couch and
leave his hands on her breasts in the manor they were when the temporary tattoos
were first applied.  She allowed him to absentmindedly graze her nipple here and
there with index fingers when the show started to get intense.  Eventually, she
outlasted him and left him sleeping on the couch.

"He is such a sweet boy."  She thought, as she pulled a blanket over him.  "He
didn't even give me a reason to smack that little bottom of his."

She went upstairs, got ready for bed, and jumped on the bed backwards landing
spread-eagled on her back.  She thought for a minute, catatonic in that
position, about all of the events of the last week, and fell asleep without
moving a muscle. 


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