Author: Spunk N. Wagnels
Title: (SNW) Not With My Daughter! 34
Part: 34
Universe: Not With My Daughter! Saga
Summary: Marnie and her friends get pressed into serving at an auction as Marnie's
blackmailer extends his power over Marnie's friends.
Keywords: exhibition, humiliation, forced nudity, 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. The author reserves all rights. 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 2-33", which can be found at "Spunk's Place" (See at bottom)
Not With My Daughter! Part 34
By Spunk N. Wagnels
"Well I found out that Larcher is blackmailing Brenda's favorite teacher, like
he does to us. So, I went to see him today, you see, to tell him off once and
for all. It didn't work; he was a prick about it; and, he has asked that, well
ordered that, we assist at a banquet on the twelfth, I think for his brother's
catering business or something." Marnie announced.
"You can't be serious. Who does he think he is, ordering me or any of us
around?" Betty replied.
"Marnie, what are you asking? I don't want anything to do with that creep."
Barbara protested.
"Listen. He warned me that he would make life miserable for anyone who didn't
show. And besides, I want to help Brenda's teacher. She doesn't deserve what
he is doing to her." Marnie argued.
"Marn. None of us deserve what he is doing to us, get real." Sally said.
"Look. We just have to help out the caterer for one evening. How tough can
that be?" Marnie pleaded.
"What are we supposed to do there? What are we supposed to wear? What do we
tell George and the others?" Barbara whined.
"It's Lady's Night Out, that's all." Marnie replied. "I don't know what we are
supposed to do, serve meals and clear tables I guess." She added.
"Marn, it is never that simple with Larcher. You've got to find out." Barbara
demanded.
"Then you'll do it? I don't want anything to happen to any of us or our
relationships." Marnie said.
The others just sat silent looking at each other for a sign as to how they would
respond to Larcher's directive. Finally, Sally said, "I'm with you. I know how
vindictive that creep can be, and besides, I'm a little curious what this
brother is like."
"Thank you Sally." Marnie said relieved.
"I don't think he will do anything to me if I don't go." Betty said
uncharacteristically brave.
"Betty, you've got to do it. He might retaliate on all of us, not just you."
Barbara pleaded.
Betty looked around at each of her friends, thought for a moment, and then with
almost instant regret said, "Okay, I'm in too."
"I'll call and find out more details." Marnie promised.
* * * * *
Brenda came in the door from school, slammed her books down and stormed up the
stairs without greeting her mother. Marnie followed her up to her room.
"What's the matter Dear?" She asked Brenda.
"Nothing! Go away." Brenda said burying her face in her pillow.
"Brenda, I'm your mother. You can talk to me. You can talk to me about
anything." Marnie said trying to turn her over. "Com'on, what's the matter?"
"Oh Mom," she said sobbing, "everybody hates me at school."
"Oh Dear, you can't mean that. Does Susan hate you?"
"Probably." Brenda said sniffling.
"What happened? You can tell me." Marnie asked, holding Brenda's shoulders in
her outstretched hands.
"Everybody saw my picture in the paper and is calling me a 'Lesbian.'" Brenda
said.
"What picture? Which paper? I didn't see any picture of you in the paper."
Marnie challenged.
"The picture of me hugging Ms. Lambert after being hosed down. You can see
everything and they didn't bother to block out the private areas." Brenda said
as she collapsed sobbing into her pillow again.
"Brenda Dear, what paper are you talking about?"
"The Weekly Monitor. It just came out this morning and it's free, so everybody
has one. I can't go back to school in this town, ever again."
"Brenda, it's not so bad. Nobody takes that rag seriously. It can't be that
bad. … ." Marnie was saying when Brenda reached in her pocket and unfolded a
picture on newsprint and slammed it down on the bed in front of her mother, then
did the same with another and another.
Marnie looked at the three shots of the incident at the art exhibit, "Oh my."
She said surprised at the explicit display of her daughter and Ms. Lambert on
the "Circling The Drain" stage. "Brenda, these are revealing, but it doesn't
make you a lesbian. And, remember our talk about being proud of our bodies,
well you and Ms. Lambert are blessed with very nice bodies. It was an accident
created by some out-of-line demonstrators and you have nothing to be ashamed
of."
"Oh really? Well, everyone thinks that Ms. Lambert is a lesbian anyway because
she is so friendly and helpful to us girls. They talk about it behind her back.
Now this. Not only does it look like proof about her, it makes me one too."
Brenda said.
"No it doesn't. I can see why you might think that way when the picture is so
fresh and people are acting without thinking, but you'll find that over time,
everyone will forget all about it. You'll see." Marnie said reassuringly.
Marnie let her rest and recover from the trauma she experienced at school and
spent the rest of the evening acting as Brenda's telephone secretary passing on
calls from every boy Brenda ever knew, and some she was meeting over the phone
for the first time. With the dates she accepted and the many she turned down,
Brenda recovered completely from the hazing she received from the other girls at
school during the day.
"Brenda, Honey, when you are through with this call can I use the phone?"
Marnie whispered and motioned.
"Sure Mom." Brenda said with her hand over the handset microphone. "I've got
to go." … "Okay Mom. All yours." She yelled.
"Brenda, do you have Walter Larcher's number?" Marnie yelled up.
"Sure Mom. I'll call and tell you when to pick up." Brenda yelled back down.
After talking to Larcher herself, Brenda signaled Marnie to take over the call.
"… What will we be doing exactly? … Well, what will we be wearing? … A tuxedo
costume? Okay. … A fitting? Okay. … Tomorrow? … Ten? … Okay, but this is the
last time we do anything like this for you." Marnie warned. "You prick!" She
said to herself hearing him laugh when he hung up his phone.
The fitting was at an unmarked commercial building in an industrial section of
town. The four ladies were led into a ten by twenty room with floor to ceiling
mirrors all along the twenty-foot wall with the door at the end. They were
asked to take off all of their clothes by a young early twenty something, gum
chewing, heavily made-up, red-haired receptionist, and offered the chairs along
the opposite long wall to put their clothes on.
"Are you doing the fitting?" Barbara asked.
"Leslie and I will be taking your measurements." The receptionist assured her.
They took off their outer clothes per the instructions, even though it didn't
seem necessary, and stood waiting, facing the mirrors, looking at themselves,
and chatting. The receptionist opened the door and stuck her upper body in to
check on the progress and grew annoyed that they still had on their under
things. "A-hem." She uttered to announce her presence. "That is, All of your
clothes please." And ducked back out before there were any questions.
The ladies grew a little concerned since they had experienced many fittings in
their lifetimes but never ones where they had to be completely nude to do so.
They all eventually, albeit reluctantly, complied and waited, padding in place,
hugging their chests, for Leslie and the redhead receptionist to return for the
measurements. The redhead came back in with a clipboard. On it was a form with
several columns. She asked each of them their names and wrote them at the top
of a column. Marnie glanced at the left-hand column and saw one of the entries,
"bikini-saddle" and wondered what on earth that could be. The redhead wrote
down hair color, eye color, asked for all of the sizes, like shoes, that would
not need to be measured, and wrote it all down for each. During the course of
the query, their arms relaxed and they grew relatively comfortable standing
naked in a strange room, in front of a stranger, in front of their friends.
When the redhead went to the door, they became more alert, watching for the next
stranger that was about to enter. "Leslie. Are you free to do a fitting in
here now?" They could hear the redhead ask out the door. The redhead stood up
and backed against the open door to allow Leslie to enter. The ladies were
momentarily in shock as Leslie turned out to be an averaged height man with his
suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, his tie loosened and
his top shirt button opened, his reading half-glasses resting down his nose,
graying dark hair thinning on top, and a cloth tape measure around his neck.
"Shall we get started ladies?" He said.
The ladies just looked shocked, and as inconspicuously as possible, shifted
their stance, posture and arms at attempts toward modesty. With Marnie closest
to the door, he began with asking her to raise her arms to her side. He pulled
the tape measure around her chest, and called out "38" for the redhead to write
down. He continued with her waist, "28" and then her hips, "36." Then he moved
on to Barbara. Marnie thought that was easy enough. He measured Barbara in the
same fashion calling out "37, 27, 37" respectively. Barbara was relieved as
well when he moved on to Sally, "36, 27, 35," and Betty, "35, 26, 35."
Betty thought, "Hunh, I thought Barbara was bigger than Marnie. It must be
because she is shorter."
Sally reflected, "I look okay I guess, but I'd sure like to be built more like
that Marnie … ."
Leslie continued with Betty, taking her by surprise by measuring around each
breast, then around both breasts at once. She was too stunned and fazed to do
or say anything about it. Rather than move on to Sally, Leslie measured her
boyish areolas. He tweaked her nipples to try and get them erect. Betty was so
numb from confusion that it wasn't successful, so he took his hand and said
"koochy, koochy, kooooo," while diddling her snatch in an attempt to excite her
nipples erect. Betty's arms levitated out from the side of her body as she rose
up on her tiptoes. Her mouth formed a long "O" and her eyes fluttered wide.
The redhead took her free hand and pinched and pulled on a nipple to help
matters along. As another wave of embarrassment washed down Betty's body from
head to toe, her nipples grew hard and erect. "There we go." Leslie said rather
clinically and went on to measure their length and circumference. Then after
hefting, lifting, and dropping each breast to make sure her tits were in a
natural hang, he measured the distance across between her nipples. Betty stood
like a deer caught in headlights and while she was still malleable, he bent her
over, leveled her back, and measured the length of free hang in her breasts.
Sally and the others, as nonchalantly as possible, worked at tweaking their own
nipples to erection, so as not to bring on the same attention to them that Betty
got. Betty stayed in the bent position for a hypnotic moment until she realized
that he was doing the same measurements now to Sally's perky breasts with her
average areolas and nipples.
When he got back down the line to Marnie he stood back and contemplated her
breasts with his chin cradled between his right thumb and index finger. "What
is the purpose of doing that to your nipples?" He asked of her rings.
"Ah, ah, I've been meaning to take them out for some time now." Marnie
blabbered.
"We can wait." He said in anticipation of watching the process. In fact all
eyes grew intent upon watching her fumble with the rings as she took them out.
Marnie finally managed to get them out. When she pinched new sensation into her
nipples, she surprised everyone, including herself, at the full body shiver it
gave her. As he called out the measurements of her areolas, they turned out to
be bigger than Barbara's were wide but about the same size in height. Before
measuring her gumdrop-sized nipples for circumference and length, he held them
and turned them to get a close-up view of the wound the piercing left. This
extra manipulation caused Marnie to involuntarily swoon her body bent forward
momentarily until she could clear the dizziness in her head.
Next, he asked Marnie to stand with her feet half a foot or so apart so he could
measure her legs. His hands touched and squeezed her muscles as if he were a
horse trader inspecting a racehorse, while he measured foot to knee, ankle,
calf, lower thigh, and mid-thigh. When he measured her upper thigh, she could
have sworn he was sweeping an index finger across her nether lips as he worked
the tape into place. Not wanting to be guessing that it was anything other than
an accident and trying not to let on to her friends, she took deep breaths and
bit her lower lip to distract herself from the sensations. When he brought the
tape up to measure her inseam, he managed to fumble with the tape measure at the
top in her crotch trying to get it straightened out. Marnie reflexively
exclaimed, "Oh my," between deep breaths, and looked at her friends in the
mirror to see if they heard.
"Is this really all necessary?" Sally challenged.
Leslie stopped, stood, turned toward her with his fists on his hips, and
replied, "I am only doing what I am paid to do. If you have a problem with
that, take it up with the Larchers." Then he went back to measuring Marnie's
legs foot to hip and foot to waist. When he took the tape, holding the end at
the base of her navel and feeding the tape through her legs and up to the top of
the crack of her ass. The movement of the tape across her clitoris, pussy, and
puckered hole as he pulled it taught caused Marnie to go weak in the knees and
required her to brace herself from falling by widening her stance and putting
her hands on her knees. While she was breathing heavily in this semi-squat
position, he took his final measurement of her vulva, and with the pushing of
the tape into place along the run, Marnie feared she would be made to cum in
front of everyone. Just as quickly as her excitement rose, he was done and
moving on to Barbara. Marnie couldn't believe it. She was glad she was spared
the humiliation of being made to cum just then, but now she was so horny that
she would gladly hump a mule like the great Catherine of Russia.
Barbara put her palms out at her waist in a gesture of rejection, but closed her
eyes when he began and forced herself to suffer the same indignity, leaving her
in a similar state to Marnie. Sally complied as defiantly as she could muster,
considering how horny she had been lately after the ordeal at the spy shop.
Betty complied as well, but everyone guessed that she did sneak in a little
climax past everyone when she ended up smiling after a short period of fretful
whimpering.
When all measurements were recorded, Leslie took his leave with a pleased look.
The redhead stood in front of the ladies, holding her pen up in her right hand,
cradling her right elbow in her left hand. She congratulated the ladies on
being such cooperative subjects and left them with one item of parting advice,
"If I was you ladies, I'd get trimmed like Marnie here. It won't show through
as much. Bye."
In the carpool back to Betty's house they were quiet. They each thought in
their own time about the strangeness of the fitting process, how they sized up
compared to their friends, about the redhead's parting advice, and what they
could do about their horns that now needed to be clipped. As they pulled into
Betty's driveway, Barbara asked, "Betty, do you think we could all get into your
hot tub before we head home?"
Betty, Marnie, and Sally looked at each other searchingly and all turned to
Barbara at the same time and said in unison, "Nawwww." Then all went to their
respective homes to sexually attack their husbands.
* * * * *
At school, Brenda was surrounded by all sorts of attentive boys, most of whom
were spoken for. This created an equal and opposite tension in the classrooms
and the halls by their girlfriends. Even Brenda's best friends, she caught a
daily ride with, left without her. She bucked it up and headed home on foot,
planning to hop on the bus if it came by in time to give her a time advantage.
With only a block jog out of her way, she could go by Crandel's on her way home.
As she approached their house she saw Jimmy playing catch with Brad, so she went
up to talk to him. "Hey Jimmy." Then in a lower tone, "Hi Brad."
Jimmy's face got all excited to see her and Brad gave her a "hubba-hubba" look.
"Gosh Brenda, you were on TV. That's so cool." Jimmy said.
"Yeah, we got to see a lot of you, even though you weren't on for very long."
He teased, and ended up rubbing the spot Jimmy hit on his arm to scold him for
saying it.
"Jimmy, where were you? I was hoping to get a picture for my portfolio."
"We tried. Honest. But, by the time we were getting close to the museum, the
road was blocked off by the cops." Jimmy explained.
"Wow, that's great that you tried. Are your mom and dad okay with how things
turned out?" Brenda asked concerned.
"They can't be down on you. Nobody can be down on you; you're the best." Jimmy
gushed.
"Thank you Jimmy. You're sweet." Brenda replied mussing up his hair a bit.
"I think I'm gonna be sick." Brad said as he acted out puking.
"Don't mind him. He doesn't understand you like I do." Jimmy assured her.
"It doesn't bother me. I think Brad is sweet too inside. He is just being
defensive, because I think he likes me too." Brenda said, then took Brad's
blushing head in her hand and kissed his cheek lightly.
"Ooooooo." Brad uttered, feigning disgust, madly trying to wipe off the cooties
left by Brenda's lips.
"Oh well, it was worth a try I guess." Brenda sighed. "Thank you for trying."
"Hey, who was that girl with you?" Brad asked.
"That was no girl, that was the cheerleading coach from school, Ms. Lambert."
Brenda explained.
"Cool! That was a teacher?" Brad said with prurient delight. "God, I saw a
'teacher' almost naked." He muttered to himself. "So what were those dark
things on your boobs?"
Brenda looked at Jimmy and they shared a smile before she responded, "Ah, that
was a temporary tattoo."
"Wow, you tattooed your boobs?" Brad asked in disbelief. "Could I see?"
"Yeah right." She said like there was no chance.
"Oh com'on. You've let me see them before." He pleaded.
"Com'on Brad, knock it off. If she doesn't want to show you, don't push it."
Jimmy said in her defense.
"It's okay Jimmy. I'll do it under one condition." Brenda said.
"What's that?" Brad asked with a wide-eyed smile.
"A girl's got to know that it's appreciated when she does such a thing. Jimmy,
where can we go?" Brenda asked.
"The garage?" Jimmy suggested, and they headed for the garage.
"Okay, I'll show you my chest, but you have to show me you appreciate it by
getting your thing stiff first and keeping it stiff as long as I am showing you
my boobs. Okay?" Brenda offered.
This caught Brad by surprise. He stared back in deep contemplation for a long
moment then said, "Okay."
After another pause of inactivity, Brenda said, "Well. … Get those pants down
and do it."
"Well, what about him?" Brad said, asking about Jimmy.
"He's my photographer. It isn't anything special for him." She replied, while
Jimmy beamed proudly.
Brad had to think about his request some more until he saw Brenda toying with
the first button on her blouse seductively. Then he decided to drop his pants
and go for it. Brenda smiled when his first instinct was to put both hands over
his equipment to keep it hidden. She unbuttoned the first button and stretched
the top open a bit as if it was hot in the garage. This gave Brad a glimpse of
the lacy edges of her bra causing his young cock to respond against his palm.
"Remember, you've got to be stiff before I show you and stiff all the time I'm
showing you in appreciation, or I stop." She warned.
Brad took his left hand and slid it off to cup his nuts while moving his right
to stroke his cock. She helped him along by unbuttoning the next button holding
her blouse together at the peak of her chest. Then when he was all the way
stiff, she slowly removed her entire blouse. "Take your hands away. I want to
see." She directed before moving on to take off her bra. Brad stopped,
surprised and removed his hands out to the sides of his body, looking down at
his bobbing stiffy pointing back at his face. "Okay then, you've got to keep it
stiff for as long as I'm showing you stuff. Remember, you promise." She said
while putting her hands behind her back and while Brad's went back to work on
his woody.
She stopped and asked Jimmy to help her unclasp her strap. He jumped at the
opportunity. After fumbling a bit with the hooks, the straps pulled apart
leaving the radiant skin of her bare back sparking urges in him. Jimmy
reflexively gave her a hug against her back burying one side of his face, and
then the other, against her warm skin, then backed away embarrassed that he did
so without asking or warning her. Brenda smiled at him approvingly and held the
cups of her bra against her breasts with her hands jiggling her breasts up and
down alternately. Brad's hand started to speed up. Brenda let the cups fall
and quickly pulled them back up. Brad blinked his eyes as if to clear his
vision to be more prepared for the next opportunity. Then she slid one arm
across as she held out the bra and let it fall. Brad could see the top and
bottom bulges and quickened his stroking. Brenda turned to the side and pulled
her hand away enough for Brad to see the fading handprint on the side of her
breast. Brad's precum started to make his cockhead glisten. Jimmy and Brenda
were enjoying Brad's growing urgency from Brenda's teasing. To add his own
element of tease, Jimmy went to Brenda's side and placed his hand in perfect
position over the henna tattooed handprint to show Brad its perfect fit. Brenda
played along like they were a rehearsed team. Brad's face screwed up in various
expressions reflecting the mix of emotions he was going through. "There."
Brenda said, "Are you satisfied?"
"Ah, argh, um, no. No, show me more. Eeeg." Brad said worried she was closing
up shop at a time that his body was taking over.
"Like this?" She said turning and switching arms so she could show him the
handprint on the other breast, on which Jimmy placed his other hand. "Or like
this." She said raising both arms into the air, with Jimmy going behind her,
putting a hand on each breast, and fluttering them to Brenda's delight and
Brad's increased madness.
"Oh god, oh god." Brad exclaimed jerking his body into bent positions as if
trying to pull his cockhead away from his own molesting hand. Then he stiffened
up straight, gave a few last strokes and shot a rope of pearly goo across at his
two tormentors, who had the presence of mind to turn and back away from the
ejaculate as it flew past.
"I'd better hurry and get dressed." Brenda remarked to Jimmy. "I don't think
he is going to be able to keep it stiff much longer."
* * * * *
"Roger Honey, do me again." Marnie urged.
"I don't know what's making you such a sex craved maniac, but I like it." He
said kissing her neck while hugging her body to his with his arms and leg.
After Roger made love to Marnie up to his capacity, he luxuriated with her
looking up blankly at the ceiling. He had no idea that his partner was sexually
reborn over the last year as a product of being over-sexed physically by a
series of unexpected sexual adventures outside of their marriage, combined with
needing to give him guilt sex to ease her own conscience emotionally.
"So, what happened to your nipple jewelry? What prompted you to take it out?"
Roger asked with curiosity while flicking a finger back and forth over the
nipple closest to him.
Marnie felt a new tingle in her crotch as Roger's question took her back to the
humiliation of stripping naked, being measured in all of her proportions by
strangers, and being pushed into a decision to remove the jewelry while these
strangers and her friends looked on.
"Oh, it was time, don't you think?" She said, gently grasping his finger and
moving it aside to stop the stimulation.
"I kinda liked the thingy dingies." He said, just cupping her breast. Instead
of taking comfort in the cuddling, Marnie's sexual energy was rising from being
stimulated by Roger's caresses. "So, I've been meaning to tell you, I, we got
this invitation at the office to the William Shamneedy Charity Function this
year. Can you believe it? The company bought two tables and we've been offered
two seats."
"Oh? When is it? I'm afraid to ask." Marnie asked, her body having gone flush.
"Friday. 'Black tie and bring the checkbook' it said on the invitation." Roger
explained.
"Ah, oh, that's nice, that we've been invited finally, I mean." Marnie said,
stalling to come up with a reason why they shouldn't go.
"Hey Marn, what's wrong? I thought you'd be jumping for joy. You'll get to
dress up and be the envy of all the other women in this town." Roger said,
leaning up on an elbow to look at her in the dim light.
"I don't know what I am going to do. I promised the girls I'd be doing
something with them that evening." Marnie offered.
"Oh, don't worry about them, Sweetie. They'll understand. They'll even be
jealous." Roger said trying to cheer her up for it.
"It's just that … Why don't just you go, Honey." Marnie offered, and then
wished she could take it back.
"Honey, I don't think you would want to miss this if you knew how bizarre these
affairs are. I'm told the Hampton Charities puts on these riotous theme
charities each year. They usually have everyone wear masks and amp up the
frivolity to help get people giddy and off balance so they won't think twice
about writing checks for large sums of money. Your anonymity is protected until
they publish the donation amounts a day or so later to keep all the patrons
locked into honoring their checks. They've got the process down to a science."
Roger pleaded enthusiastically.
"Maybe we shouldn't go anyway, we'll probably write check amounts we'd regret
for the rest of the year." Marnie warned hopefully.
"You might be right about that. Are you sure you can't break it off with the
gals?" Roger asked.
"I just don't think it would be right." Marnie said, hoping she could keep the
general direction going her way.
"Okay, I'll think twice about it." Roger said. "Goodnight Sweetheart."
"Goodnight Honey." Marnie responded, wondering how long it would be before she
could join him in restful sleep.
* * * * *
Marnie was gone before Roger came home from work on Friday. The ladies had to
be at the hall to help with the setup. When they got there they discovered
other younger women also following directions reluctantly, but compliantly, of a
direct no-nonsense woman in her late forties or early fifties by her looks, just
as they were doing. They were putting tablecloths, place settings, and
centerpieces on the tables, straightening chairs, and decorating with bright
colors and lights.
Marnie noticed a man enter the hall and lean over to talk to the woman. "Hey
look Barb. Sally, psst. Betty." She said, waving her friends in for a huddle.
"Look over there."
"Holy Shit!" Sally whispered emphatically. "It's another Larcher."
"Yeah, he looks just like him, only a little bit shorter and a little less hair
on top. Do you think they are twins?" Marnie asked with curiosity.
"Hey, you four over there, if you're done with that, come and get these boxes
and stands and set them up on the front and sides of the stage." The lady with
Larcher-2 spoke loudly to them over the din.
The four ladies walked toward them unable to take their eyes off of the new
Larcher. The woman looked at his reaction suspiciously checking for indications
that he might know the four ladies already. He checked out the ladies as they
went behind to pick up boxes of flowers, stands, and additional decorations.
They all checked each other out as they passed him again walking back toward the
stage.
"It's uncanny isn't it?" Betty offered.
"Creepy more like it." Barbara retorted as they walked up on the stage.
As they set up the stage with the floral arrangements, they each in their own
way and in their own time looked out over the display of decorated tables
imagining the charity function fully attended and bustling and what it would be
like to be an artist on the stage entertaining the attendees.
When the room was set up, there was about a fifteen-minute break before the lady
in charge asked them all to retire to the changing area for their costumes. "At
least we get to wear tuxedoes and see what that would be like." Marnie reminded
her group as they were led to a staging area.
In front of a couple of rows of rolling racks of plastic covered hanging
wardrobes, stood the redheaded receptionist and Leslie from the earlier fitting.
"Okay ladies," Leslie announced, "each of these has your name on them. You can
use the showers through that door if you like. There is no need to rush. You
have forty-five minutes."
"What about makeup? I didn't bring all of the makeup I need." A pretty younger
woman asked him.
"No need to worry about makeup, Ladies. Hampton Charities asks that you all
wear masks to maintain your anonymity. You'll find it inside with the rest. If
you have any questions just ask Cheryl here or myself." He said pausing for any
immediate questions then left the room.
The women all descended on the racks looking for their names. Those that knew
each other handed and traded the wrapped hangers and bagged shoes below them to
the appropriate persons. Plastic squeezed apart and paper inside ripped open as
the women energetically broached the wrappings like kids attacking presents at
Christmas. The overall energy slowed as they examined the black pantyhose,
white body hose top with white collar and cuffs, starched tuxedo bib, shinny
gold cummerbund and red tie, and finally, a black hood. They tore into the bags
with the shoes in the hopes that there might be more, but all they found there
were black shinny patent leather high-heeled pumps.
"Marnie. I thought you said we would be wearing tuxedoes!" Barbara whined.
"I thought that was what he told me. Well, look at these all together." Marnie
said in her defense, holding as many of the elements up to her body as she could
manage. "It looks like a tuxedo, just an ultra sexy one. … But wait, we'll be
wearing these masks." She put hers over her head, but any way she did it, she
couldn't figure out the eyes. Then she took it off. "You see. We get to dress
real sexy like this and have our identities concealed. You can go wild child
and it will be okay."
Betty, only half listening, piped up, "Ah hem, I, ah, I didn't … you know, um,
shave, … you know. Look at how these look." She said nodding in the direction
of one of the younger women hurrying to see what it all looked like on her and
had the black nylon material stretched up around her legs and hips. " You can
see through when we have these on. I need to shave before I go out in public
like that, … even though my face is covered. What am I going to do?"
Sally went over to the receptionist, "Cheryl is it?" Cheryl nodded. "Ah, we have
someone among us who didn't follow your advice and is in need of a shave. Would
you … ?"
Cheryl interrupted, "I've come prepared. Here's a little tube of lotion and a
disposable. No need to return it."
"Thank you. You're a dear." Sally said and returned to her group. "Ask and ye
shall receive." She said handing the solution to Betty's problem to her.
The three ladies got ready following their turns in the bathroom. The costumes
fit them individually like gloves. They were amazed how the individual fit
hugged each feature of their bodies such as hips, rear cheeks, and breasts,
which had their own individual pouches and reservoir tips for their nipples,
keeping a uniform pressure to them as the rest of the costume did on the rest of
their bodies. The formal bib had costume jewels placed where studs would be and
it fastened from under the collar to being held in place by the cummerbund.
They each began to notice that the bibs were slightly different in size from one
another. They were just wide enough on each of them to cover the outer edge of
their areolas, leaving plenty of the sides of their breasts to show the patrons
the apparent shape and size of their tits underneath.
They looked at each other and imagined themselves looking just as hot as the
others looked in their costumes. When it was time for the masks, Marnie and
Barbara went over to Cheryl with Marnie asking, "Um, what's with this hood? I
can't seem to figure it out."
Cheryl pulled it over Marnie's head so that the single opening in front was
positioned from the tip of Marnie's nose, as wide as a generous smile to up over
her chin but below her bottom lip, accentuating her mouth. Marnie noticed that
she could see better looking down through the material than she could straight
ahead and asked why that was. "It is a special micro weave with a flat thread.
The horizontal strands are tied at intervals on an angle so they act like
partially opened blinds. Pretty neat hunh. If you were to wear this hood
upside down, somehow, you'd be able to see better upward than straight ahead,
same thing. It was originally designed for fabric sunglasses, but preliminary
marketing told the manufacturer to scrap the idea."
"I see." Marnie acknowledged. "Thanks." And walked back with Barbara to Sally
titling her head back and to the sides trying to get the hang of it.
All three were experimenting with the hooded masks when Betty returned to change
into her costume. They stood casually staring at Betty's newly denuded public
area from behind their masks chuckling to themselves at the sometimes-uptight
Betty's new look.
When everyone was dressed Cheryl passed around bright red lipsticks for them to
apply and a garter with a number for each of them to wear.
From the staging area, they went out to the hall to await the beginning of the
evening's festivities. They felt naughty in these tight fitting and revealing
costumes while they held trays of glasses filled with champagne for the guests
to take at their leisure. When the first guests filtered in, the women wore the
slinkiest, sexiest evening gowns Marnie had ever seen, and she was envious that
she wasn't among them. The men came in wearing the finest in formal fashions.
In both cases, they were wearing molded masks, which covered all of their faces
except for the cut out at the middle bottom revealing their mouths and chins.
They varied in color and form uniquely so you could tell one person from the
other, but not who was wearing it. The guests mingled in around the waiting
waitresses, looking them up and down admiringly, and picked up a glass of
Champaign before searching for their assigned tables. The waitresses held their
heads back in a fashion that made them stand proud, but in fact was allowing
them to see the guests better as they milled around.
With the close scrutiny they were getting from the entering attendees, Marnie
and her friends felt more naked in the thin translucent bodysuits and heels than
they anticipated they would . Unless they stood with their legs together, the
crease and swell of their cunt lips would be clearly visible, and as it was, the
outsides of their breasts and the swell, fold and crease of their rear cheeks
were clearly visible for all to see. Wearing masks helped and made them feel
more daring in flaunting what they had on display as some of the younger servers
chose to stand in sexy uneven stances or to move with exaggerated swaying hip
movements among the standing guests.
The foursome huddled by the table filling Champaign glasses waiting for their
trays to be restocked. "This is kinda fun so far. We wouldn't be here at all
if we didn't have to do this." Sally said upbeat.
Marnie wanted to tell them that she had an invitation, but censored herself
wondering what the point of telling them would be. "Well, we've got to be here
doing this, so let's make the most of it. … Is it hot in here, or is it just
me?" Marnie said picking up her tray.
The servers were constantly circulating among guests during the pre-dinner hour
serving Champaign and hors d'oeuvres. With her head tilted back Marnie could
see them looking at programs and talking about her and the others. Even though
she had her identity concealed, it still made her uncomfortable to be the center
of attention among these people. After all, this was a charity function and the
cause was a worthy one, she thought. Eventually, as the Champaign continued to
flow, she and the others started to feel caresses on their rears, mostly by the
men, and touching on their breasts, with excuses like feeling the stiffness of
the tuxedo bibs, mostly by women. With their hands occupied with heavy trays
they could do little to stop the groping. The squeezes on her lower rear cheeks
where they met her leg with fingers curled in between were the most distracting
and causing her to moisten between her legs uncontrollably.
Marnie and the others were initially relieved when the guests started to sit
down at their assigned seats. Their trays were heavier than ever now with the
different courses they were carrying, but they got to serve the dishes
individually from tray stands. Now that they were serving seated guests, the
guests became acutely familiar with their lower-half features. They experienced
everything from pats on their hips during "Thank you's," to outright comments
while caressing their legs up and down like, "good stock," or "I bet she was
good at sports," or "yeah but just you wait until she is as old as I am," and so
on. On one such occasion she felt a hand go completely between her legs and the
owner of the hand exclaiming, "Oh yeah. She's wet." Marnie was so humiliated
by this that she wanted to run back to the staging area and cry, but then she
heard from another table, "This one's wet too," and she was momentarily
distracted from her own embarrassment.
The band on stage stopped playing with a loud rim shot and the M.C. took the
microphone to tell a few jokes, mostly about money leaving their wallets, but
some about how sexy the evening gowns were on the ladies and how little the
material must have cost. "And now, Ladies and Gentlemen I'd like to bring up
the volunteers to take a bow." He said waving the servers up to the stage.
"That's right. Don't be shy. Right up those steps there. Here they are your
ladies of the evening." Then away from the microphone he said. "Okay Ladies,
take a bow." And, the long row of servers bowed and curtsied per their pleasure
to the applause, and standing applause by a couple of the tipsier sorts in the
audience. "Thank you Ladies." He said, and the servers were instructed to
follow the woman supervisor off the stage to the back. The M.C. continued to
explain about the auction. "And if you'll look in your programs, you'll see we
have a lawyer, some bookkeepers, an accountant, … and four homemakers. Quite a
bunch hunh? And they have all volunteered to use their skills for up to six
hours of your bidding. Now what could be better than that? … Now first up we
have number one in your program. I think you'll find the stats impressive. I
know I do just standing here next to her. Good evening Number One, can you tell
us what you do?"
He passed the microphone to the slim twenty-eight year old that replied, "I'm an
attorney." (Applause)
"There you have it Ladies and Gentlemen, an attorney. You could have your will
redone; you can file an action against your obnoxious neighbor; hell, you can
have her get you a divorce so you can … well, lets not go there. So what do I
hear for the bib?"
"Wha … ?" Number One backed away from the man's grasp of her arm, but stepped
forward again when she saw the look she got from the woman watching from the
side. The bidding was active because of the promise of seeing more of this
beautiful young woman. The winning bidder got the opportunity to come up on the
stage to remove the tuxedo trimmings. When she was down to just the white body
stocking top, black pantyhose, heels, and hood, she was sold to the highest
bidder, given a filmy silvery top to wear which covered her shoulders like a
peasant girl shirt and hung open like a ruffled skirt down to just the bottom of
her breasts and a short ruffled silvery flared skirt to match, which ended a few
inches below her rear cheeks. Then she was led off the stage to the
auctioneer's table where she met with the high bidder. He made out his check
and escorted her to sit with him and his wife to make arrangements, then sat
with them to watch the remainder of the auction.
Marnie wondered what was going on since the servers that left the area backstage
did not return to join them. Since she wore number five, she knew she would be
next, but "for what?" She wondered. When she was on stage with the M.C. and all
of the audience's attention was on her, she grew faint. She hung on by a thread
as the announcer asked her, "And what do you do?"
"Oh, well, you mean like for work?" She asked to clarify.
"Yes Ma'am, for work." He repeated.
"Oh, nothing, I'm a housewife." (Applause with laughter)
"I don't think you mean 'nothing.' You manage your household, raise your kids,
see to everyone's nutritional needs, and entertain guests and such. Am I
right?"
"Well, sure." She said cautiously.
"Well then, there you have it a 'Jane of All Trades' right here. What do I hear
for the bib?" Marnie was too off balance to realize the ramifications of the
bidding. The winning bidder came up, undid the collar, undid the cuffs, and
undid the cummerbund to remove the bib. Marnie tried to cover her nudity now
completely apparent through the hose, but her arms were swiped away by the
intoxicated bidder. She gasped as the he tweaked her tender nipples a couple of
times to get them to stand out before stepping aside to present her to the
crowd. There were collective sounds of appreciation right before the applause.
Marnie's breasts stood out majestically in the individually tailored body suit
and her nipples stood out proudly in the extra reservoir tips built in.
Marnie's chest was the biggest on display so far and the drunken bidder put his
hand on a breast from the side, groping it and tweaking its nipple with his
devilish grin to arouse the crowd. Marnie's humiliation was complete when he
put his other hand up onto her snatch from behind and had her padding in place
madly trying to get his hands away from her sensitive areas. "Ah, that's enough
there man." The M.C. tried to intercede, and tried to pull the man's hands off
of Marnie. "So," he said as a distraction, "what do you have planned for this
homemaker to do for you?"
"Well, um," the wavering bidder started to say facing the crowd, having taken
his hands off of Marnie's body, "she can serve at a party like this I'm gonna
have."
"Well okay then," the announcer said patronizingly, "we know she can do that
don't we. Now please step over there." He said referring to the auctioneer's
table.
Marnie was led over to the table with him and put on the flimsy top and skirt
while he wrote out his check. Then she was led to the man's table to sit with
him and his wife. The man's wife took charge of the situation by placing her
seat between the one pulled up for Marnie and her husband's and said, "Don't
mind him Dear, he's really a nice person when he isn't so drunk."
Marnie found little solace in the lady's words, and sat in shock while Barbara
came on stage for the bidding of her services. She tilted her head back to see
the people more clearly at the table she was sitting with. When she worked her
way around the table to the man to her right, he said to her, "Oh, please excuse
me for staring. It's just that you remind me so much my wife who couldn't be
here tonight, it's uncanny."
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