When they finished unpacking the groceries, Joan collapsed on the couch. Penny was still in a happy mood as she slipped off her clothing and went over to kiss at Joan's feet.
'You don't have to do that with me, sweetheart,' said Joan. She'd been trying to break the girl of this unsanitary habit.
Penny rose to her feet. 'Cuddles?' she asked hopefully.
Joan's eyes brightened involutarily. 'At this time of the day?'
She'd acquired a decidely inappropriate lust for her charge that she was ill-equiped to disguise. In truth, she'd gladly 'cuddle' with the big-titted sexpot any time of the day or night.
'Certainly, dear,' she said evenly, with great composure. She reached up her arms to Penny.
Before when the two had cuddled, Penny had worn a 'frilly' babydoll nightie. As the voluptuous girl lowered herself into Joan's lap, Joan realized that she was going to be handling the girl in her fully-naked state for the first time.
The large but delicately formed girl was noticeably more friendly this time as she and Joan hugged and kissed. Penny giggled as Joan's hands stroked the lovely girl's smooth curves.
I wonder if you're ticklish, my dear,' whispered Joan in Penny's ear. She wagged a fingertip over Penny's belly, and Penny tittered. Joan's hand darted about the girl's body cunningly, and immediately Penny began screaming and giggling.
Struggle as she might, Penny couldn't escape Joan's predacious fingertips. The voluptuous nymphette recited a long cacophony of howls and shrieks before Joan tired of the game and relented. She left Penny in a helpless state of exhaustion on the couch, and went about other household errands.
One of these took Joan to the answering machine, where she saw a message was waiting. It was Mrs. Paul with the name of a French hotel and a phone number. 'Call us if you need anything,' she said.
Joan noted the number, and thought to herself of all the questions about Penny she could ask-- questions the guardians would probably be loath to answer!
But there were other ways of finding answers, and Joan had ample resources for the investigation-- an agile mind, plenty of free time-- and full access to the object of the investigation.
That 'object'-- a magnificent specimen of adult feminine beauty-- was playfully folding and refolding the grocery bags from their recent shopping trip, while murmuring 'Eagle,' over and over. It was obvious the poor child had never before experienced the simple pleasure of shopping!
'Penny, dear,' said Joan, 'would you come over to the table here?' She indicated the large coffee table in the living room. 'Now get up on the table, dear, kneel there and keep very still.'
Penny did as asked. The nude girl was able to position herself comfortably on the table.
Joan proceeded to turn on all the lamps. She directed the spot lamps at Penny, and removed the shades from the others.
'No,' she decided, 'That's still not enough light.'
To Penny she said, 'Come with me into the kitchen, dear.'
Penny dismounted the table and came with Joan.
Joan had Penny climb up onto the kitchen table and lie down on her back. She was bathed in the luminescence of the overhead fluorescent lights.
Joan proceeded to take a magnifying glass she'd found in a drawer, and use it to examine Penny's skin minutely. She covered the entire length of the young woman's body. Penny had a marvelous, enticing complexion, but Joan was looking for signs of something-- of what, she couldn't say for sure.
She worked from the girl's toes upward. She spent an exorbitant amount of time examining Penny's luscious bush and her nipples. then she moved up to Penny's face. The quiet, trusting girl remained still as Joan brought the magnifying glass over her chin, mouth, nose, ears, hairline, and finally the young woman's beautiful eyes.
Under the glass, Penny's eyes betrayed signs of the beginnings of age. She was probably 30 or even older-- older than Joan herself, who was barely 23.
Perhaps this was one of the secrets of Penny's appeal. She didn't have the shiny, brand new look of younger, pedestal-bound beauties. Rather, she possessed the drowsy sensuousness of the used woman. She was not there for show-- she was there to be fucked!
And indeed, Joan had verified, Penny had been fucked long and often; she certainly was no virgin.
'Alright, honey, lets turn you over.'
Penny's backside did not have as many interesting features for Joan's voracious sentiments. but for the purpose of her investigation, it was actually more revealing.
Penny's anus, for example, had telltale signs of bruising and chafing. Joan felt certain that the girl had been attacked there frequently, and with great vigor. In fact, it must have occurred quite recently.
More telling were the tiny, hairline scars appearing all over her buttocks, back, and shoulders. Joan guessed that, several years before, Penny had been beaten severely and repeatedly. She had found similar scars on Penny's frontside, but not nearly so numerous.
The chafing and calluses around Penny's wrists and ankles completed the picture-- the young beauty had been systematically bound and tortured on numerous occasions.
Joan made one final discovery. It was on the nape of Penny's neck, where normally her hair fell to cover.
It was a a quarter-sized design made up of the letters D and P-- Divergent and Paul?
The design had been burned into Penny's skin, presumably with a branding iron!