

Standard Disclaimer:  This is a work of erotic fiction.
It is intended for Adults Only, so if you're 
not--then go away.  It is not intended for sale, but if 
you'd like to pass it around, feel free.  Just keep the 
text and header as is and all will be well.  Enjoy!


Bountiful Plantation: Part VI of VI

   She made it across the lawn and into the house with 
out being noticed by anyone.  She quickly walked through 
the busy kitchen and, not seeing her mother anywhere, 
darted into the kitchen stairwell.  She crept up the 
kitchen stairs to the second floor, thankful that no one 
was using it at the moment.

   Getting down on her hands and knees so she wouldn't be 
noticed, Cynthia just stuck her head around the second 
floor landing.  She was at floor level and had a clear 
view of her end of the corridor.  The coast was clear.

   She started to get up when she saw her mother come 
storming out of her bedroom.  She quickly dropped to her 
hands and knees again, and froze.

   "Where is that little bitch?," her mother cried to the 
deserted hallway.  "Cynthia!  I know you're hiding up 
here.  Get your butt out here right now!"

   While her mother stood fuming, not five feet from 
Cynthia's head, a senior caterer came down the corridor 
from the main stair case.

   "Mrs. Sampson, a moment of your time," he said as he 
quickly walked towards her.

   "Yes, John," her mother said sweetly.  "What is it 
now?"

   To Cynthia's dismay, her mother and the caterer got 
into a serious discussion right there in the corridor.  
If she tried to back out now, she was sure she would be 
noticed.

   It was then that Cynthia heard a quiet English voice 
behind her say, "I'd recognize that bottom anywhere."

   "Oh, no!" Cynthia thought with horror.  "It's that 
catering girl, Penelope.  What could she possible want?"

   Cynthia quickly found out.  Two hands slowly started 
rubbing and kneading every silk-covered inch of her 
jutting buttocks.

   When they were finished, the hands casually slid 
unprotested up over her sides and stomach.  They 
eventually stopped on her silk-enclosed breasts, which 
they gently fondled for a time.

   "Ooh, this is so embarrassing!" she wailed to herself 
as tears rolled down her cheeks.  "Why is everyone 
picking on me so much?" Cynthia thought bitterly as 
unwanted feelings of contentment washed over her as her 
breasts were being kneaded.

   "MMMmmmmm," she quietly moaned.  "If only it didn't 
feel so good," she thought.  "It's so hard to resist when 
it feels this good."

   She felt her straps being fiddled with and soon the 
top of her gown fell away, leaving her bare breasts to 
dangle freely underneath her.  She next heard the faint 
sound of a zipper being opened (her mother instinctively 
paused at the sound for a moment), then felt her gown 
being lowered.

   When her gown was puddled around her knees, she heard 
the soft rustling of more clothing being removed.  

   "I brought a surprise for us, love," she heard 
Penelope say softly.  "Meet my best friend, Long Tom!"

   Cynthia jumped when something soft and bulbous started 
to press against her exposed vulva.  She felt Penelope 
try to widen her thighs, but her dress was tangled at her 
knees and wouldn't allow it.  Penelope soon worked the 
dress over the girl's knees and off her legs.

   Penelope, once having widened Cynthia's thighs to her 
satisfaction, started to work the lubricated dildo into 
the vulnerable teenager's pussy.  Cynthia tried to wiggle 
her hips in violent protest, but that just caused 
Penelope to mutter, "Patience, love.  We'll get it all 
in, don't you worry."

   Feeling completely defeated, Cynthia could only wait 
there and let this stranger do what she wanted with her, 
while the cause of her dilemma continued her agonizing 
talk in the corridor.

   Penelope gradually worked the dildo deeper and deeper 
into the tight passage of the unresisting girl's vagina, 
occasionally twisting and turning it to heighten the 
effect.

   Cynthia's traitorous body quickly responded to this 
latest outrage.  Her cuntal walls clung greedily to the 
intruder.  She could feel her vaginal fluids flowing down 
the inside of her splayed thighs.  Each time the dildo 
moved within her, the sensation overwhelmed her 
completely.  As Penelope reached her desired depth, she 
began to develop an in-and-out rhythm which Cynthia's 
hips quickly matched.

   Her mother and the caterer finally went down the main 
stairs, but it was too late, too late.  Cynthia was 
already undressed and helplessly impaled on the massive 
dildo.

   She couldn't understand it.  Why did these terrible 
things that people were doing to her lately have to feel 
so darn good?  The skilled movement of the dildo within 
her, her dangling breasts rubbing on the step below, the 
plain fact of her nakedness and absolute helplessness to 
the whims of this stranger was stimulating the teenager 
to unbelievable highs.
  
   The corridor was deserted but the turned-on Cynthia 
didn't want to leave now.  To her astonishment, the girl 
found herself loving it, all of it.  The writhing 
teenager thrust her hips onto the dildo with a fierce 
enthusiasm now, and deliberately dragged her sensitive 
nipples on the carpeted step.

   Cynthia, flying high on clouds of erotic sensations, 
had lost control.

   "Yes!" she started shouting.  "Oh my God, yes!"

   It was while Cynthia was at this peak of passion that 
she uncomprehendingly heard Penelope yell, "Oh, bloody 
hell.  I'm fucking late!  Shit!  Shit!!  Shit!!!"

   Cynthia, lost to the world, continued to rock and roll 
on the stairs for some time before she realized that the 
wonderful dildo deep within her wasn't moving anymore.  
She chanced a look back over her right shoulder and saw 
with horror a flushed-looking Penelope completely dressed 
and tucking in her shirt.

   "Sorry I can't stay longer, love, but break's over and 
I'll get the sack if I'm not there."

   As she ran down the stairs she called to the 
dumbfounded teenager, who was staring at the departing 
woman with wide eyes and opened mouth, 

   "Take care of Tom for me, will you?"

   Cynthia, finally coming down from her state of 
ecstasy, screamed, "No!  You can't go!  Not now!"

   But it was no use, Penelope had gone.

   "NO!!!" cried the overwrought girl.  "That's not 
fair!"  With one hand, she reached clumsily behind her 
for the dildo and managed to pull it almost all of the 
way out before she lost her balance.  Cynthia tumbled 
down the stairs, ending up face down on the landing 
below.

   "AAHH!" she cried joyously as the force of her fall 
rammed the dildo deep into her receptive cunt, even 
though her breasts were crushed painfully beneath her, 
and the air driven from her lungs.  Winded, she could 
only lay there and try to get her breath back.  Even so, 
she still attempted to start working the dildo in and out 
again my moving her hips.

    Once she was able to breath again, Cynthia flipped 
over on her back and reached with both hands between her 
raised knees and widely opened thighs.  Holding the soft 
rubber base of the dildo, she began the now familiar, 
exciting motion she desired so badly.

   Moving her hips frantically with each stroke of the 
dildo, she quickly regained the sexual high she had been 
on.  Soon beyond the ability for any rational thought, 
uncaring if anyone should use the steps and see her naked 
there, she existed only for the sublime magic of what was 
now happening in her cunt, and that was all.  The 
grunting, sweating, sex-mad animal that had once been the 
haughty teenager called Cynthia Sampson joyously fucked 
itself, while growing crowds of catering staff made 
special pilgrimages to the kitchen stairs to witness the 
amazing performance.   
   The deranged thing on the stairs finally climaxed 
itself into a state of blessed unconsciousness, to the 
cheers and applause of the large crowd of onlookers.
    

   Cynthia awoke with a splitting headache.  She opened 
her eyes to find herself laying nude and covered with 
drying sweat on a landing in the kitchen stair case.

   "What am I doing here?" she wailed.  Cynthia raised 
her head and saw with horror that something was deeply 
embedded in her poor ravaged pussy.

   "Oh my God!" she mumbled as she reached between her 
legs for the offending device.  She gingerly pulled it 
out of her, her eyes crossing in pain as the small knobs 
on the sides of the dildo rubbed against her dry hyper-
sensitive vaginal walls.  She quickly tossed it away from 
her as the name "Long Tom" surfaced in her mind, and then 
she remembered.  

   "OH GOD!!" she screamed.  "What have I done??"

   Angry with herself and aching all over, the exhausted 
teenager retrieved her gown and shoes from the floor and 
staggered naked up the stairs.  She almost reached the 
top landing when she paused for a moment, then turned 
around and went back for the hated dildo she had left on 
the landing.

   She wasn't sure why she made herself go back for this 
ravager of her body.  It was only because of the faintest 
of thoughts, one she herself was hardly aware of.  It was 
due to her subconscious, thinking that such a thing just 
might prove quite useful to have around in the future.

   She went slowly back up the stair and limped on down 
the deserted corridor to her bedroom.  Once inside, she 
spitefully threw everything onto her bed.

   The beautiful gown she had loved so well had brought 
her nothing but bad luck since the very beginning, and 
she wanted nothing more to do with it.

   She looked with hatred at the dildo laying on her 
clean white coverlet, the dildo still gleaming with her 
body's secretions.  Cynthia shook her head with 
bewilderment when her vagina began to throb hopefully.  

   "Doesn't it ever end?" she wailed.

   Reflexively, she turned from her bed and went to stand 
in front of her full length mirror.  She looked with 
disgust at her disheveled reflection in the mirror.

   "My God!  I'm a wreck!" she cried, and hurried into 
her bathroom for some badly needed repair work. 

   She stood under a hot shower for twenty minutes and 
tried to wash the last three days completely away.  It 
didn't work, but she felt a little better, anyway.  The 
headache was gone and a lot of the muscle soreness had 
left her body.  Yet some effects still remained.

   Her breasts had never felt this tender.  Every 
movement they made became a minor agony for her.  She had 
to get them in a bra and fast.

   Even more strange was the effect her ravaged pussy had 
on her.  Cynthia was astonished.  It actually hurt her to 
walk!  It practically twanged with every step she took.

   She turned off the steaming torrent of water and just 
stood there, trying to think of what to do next.

   She knew she couldn't remain in her room, because her 
mother had already been up here at least once looking for 
her.  Her only desire at the moment was to find a nice, 
public yet quiet place where she could safely go and 
spend the remainder of this terrible evening.

   The water, either at the beach or by the family pool, 
had always been her favorite place to seek in times of 
emotional crisis.  So, she would follow through on her 
original idea and go to the pool.  It would be perfect.
  
   She put on her most modest bikini.  It wasn't even a 
thong (she kept it around only for family occasions), so 
she would be perfectly safe.  She wrapped herself in a 
short terry robe and beach slippers, and dejectedly stole 
her usual back way through the kitchen for the pool.


   There was a mini-bar setup at the pool for the party.  
Cynthia stopped there first for a large chilled glass of 
wine, then proceeded to the pool.  Cynthia set up a 
lounge chair in one of the darkest corners of the area, 
where she could observe all that was going on at the 
pool, without herself being observed.  She kept her robe 
on against the slight chill of the night air.

   Cynthia calmly sipped her wine, and watched the guests 
having fun, forming the perfect picture of beautiful 
blonde contentment.  Only a slight, occasional tremor in 
the hand holding her glass told of the inner distress she 
was going through.
  
   "What is happening to me?" her stunned mind wondered.  
People, total strangers were using her body with 
impunity, that is, when she wasn't using it herself!

   It took her some time to develop the necessary 
courage, but she was finally able to face the fact that 
was troubling her the most.

    "Why, oh why, do I like it so much?  What's wrong 
with me?"

   Her sexual experiences, she had to admit for all of 
her brave show, had been practically nonexistent until 
now.  She had always loved to tease, of course, but the 
occasional inept fumbling in some guy's car had scared 
her beyond belief, and she would never go with those guys 
again.

   But the events of the past three days had changed all 
of that forever.  She had gone from a life of almost no 
sex to one of nearly constant stimulation and even 
orgasms.
  
   "Good God!"  she muttered.  Just thinking about it 
like this was causing her to be wet again!  Great.  Now 
she would have to swim soon so that no one would notice.

   It was all too much for her.  Cynthia's tired and 
shattered mind did not have an answer.

   She just couldn't think about anything anymore.  Her 
head was starting to hurt again.  Before her swim, she 
resolved to enjoy the peacefulness of the evening.  Maybe 
it could help to calm her down a little.  After sipping 
some more wine, the emotionally drained girl set her 
glass down next to the chair, and closed her eyes for a 
quick nap.


   A woman carrying an iced drink came upon the sleeping 
teenager quite late in the evening.
  
   She had been looking for her for some time.  The pool 
bar had closed long ago and the swimmers had all gone 
back indoors.  The pool area was for the moment deserted, 
the lights dimmed.

   The woman sat on the edge of the girl's chair.  She 
untied Cynthia's belt and carefully opened the robe.  She 
was impressed.  The latent sexuality of this woman-child 
was clearly visible for all to see.  The tell-tale stain 
on the bikini bottoms only served to confirm her 
impressions.
 
    She took a large ice cube from the glass and placed 
it on the tip of the sleeping Cynthia's left breast, 
covered by her bikini top.  When the girl stirred 
uneasily, the woman placed it on her right breast.  At 
her second stirring, the woman threw the cube away.  
Taking a fresh one from the glass, the woman placed it 
directly on Cynthia's vulva, clearly showing under the 
tight material of her bikini bottoms, and held it there 
until the cube was completely melted.

   The woman observed the sleeping girl closely.  By now 
Cynthia's had become rapid, and her hips were undulating 
slightly.  The woman placed a slim hand between the 
girl's tapered thighs and began to gently rub where her 
sex was covered by the suit.  She smiled when the 
teenager moaned softly, and continued to rub.


   Cynthia awoke feeling dangerously tingly.  Once the 
most exciting feeling in the world for her, tonight it 
had become the constant prelude to absolute disaster:  
her assured humiliation at the hands of others.

   She could see the dark shape of a person sitting next 
to her, she could feel, even through her strangely damp 
suit, the now familiar thrilling touch of someone 
touching her sex.

   "How dare they!" the indignant girl thought as she sat 
up.  Yet, furious with herself, she felt her body still 
responding to each delicious caress, weakening her will 
to resist.

   Holding her trembling body erect by leaning on her 
hands, Cynthia tried to shout, "STOP THAT!" as loud as 
she could, but it came out of the flustered girl's mouth 
more as a nervous squeak.

   "Is that any way to greet an old friend?" asked the 
woman, calmly continuing her steady work between the 
girl's sculptured thighs.

   "JUNE!" Cynthia gasped, breathless, as she finally 
recognized her well-dressed assailant. "What are you 
doing?"

   "You," she replied calmly, using her left hand to pull 
aside the girl's crotch strap and sliding four fingers of 
her right hand into Cynthia's moist vaginal passage.  "On 
the other hand, if you mean, 'What are you doing here?', 
that's another matter."

   Shaking, the girl stood up from her chair, but June 
kept a firm grip on Cynthia's bikini bottom.  She 
couldn't leave now without loosing the bottom half of her 
suit!

  The fingers in the teenager's vagina began to have 
their deadly effect on her nervous system, and she found 
she could only stand there, trembling in confusion.

   June pulled the robe from the passive girl's shoulders 
and it fell to her feet.

   "What... What do you want?" Cynthia stammered, trying 
to find the necessary strength to break away from this 
delicious contact, and failing.

   "OH!!" she cried as June expertly flicked the girl's 
erect clitoris.  Cynthia's knees failed her as she 
orgasmed and she fell face down across June's waiting lap 
as June withdrew her hand from the girl's spasming pussy 
and released her hold on the suit.

   "That... that wasn't fair!" the twitching Cynthia 
wailed as her vagina pumped her fluids into the tight 
bikini bottoms.

   "You're right.  Now comes your message from Mickey," 
and June struck the jerking, weeping girl soundly across 
her left ass cheek.

   "What!"  the shocked Cynthia exclaimed.

   "Next time remember to say 'ma'am', idiot!" as June 
started raining blows upon the girl's raised hillocks 
which were only protected by the thin, tight material of 
the bikini.

   "Whaaa!" bawled the devastated teenager, finally 
reduced by the combined climax and spanking to the 
emotional level a small child.

   June continued her spanking of Cynthia's quivering 
buttocks, while the teenager helplessly shook and 
spasmed.

   In time June was done, and she gently caressed the 
stinging globes with her right hand as Cynthia weakly 
whimpered, "I'll be good, ma'am.  I'll be good from now 
on.  Honest!"
  
   June stood the teenager on her feet and June moved up 
alongside her.  The woman ran her hands openly over 
Cynthia's body, starting from the top of her head and 
ending at her toes.  The girl could only stand with her 
head bowed, her face thankfully hidden by her thick 
hanging hair, and repeat, "I'll be good," as the woman 
openly explored her perfect, firm young body.

   June untied the skimpy bikini and flung both pieces  
into the center of the pool.  

   "You will not be needing these anymore," the woman 
told her.  She once again slowly inspected the girl.

   "Yes," said the girl peacefully, as if speaking in a 
pleasant dream.

   "You belong to us, now."
   "Yes."

   "You will do and wear exactly what we say, and when."
   "Yes."

   "We have great plans for you, you lucky thing.  You 
have a great deal in store ahead of you."

   Cynthia drew herself erect, with her shoulders back. 
  
   She stood proudly for a moment, looking magnificent as 
her nude body gleamed in the faint light of the pool.  

   "Yes, of course," she said regally. 


     Princess of the Blood Royal, Cynthia de Sampson, 
stood proudly in front of her adoring subjects, their 
cries of adulation ringing triumphantly in her ears.  
Although very young, the Princess stood calmly and 
without fear in the presence of such large, tumultuous 
crowds.

   Like the future ruler she was, Princess Cynthia stood 
patiently and did not mind the wait, as her kindly Royal 
Guardian would eventually tell her what to do next.

End Part VI

End of Story


