 

 
                   THE RIDE OF HER LIFE       

                            by 

                         Joe Doe


AMY GETS MORE THAN SHE BARGAINED FOR WHEN SHE BECOMES FIXATED WITH 
THE PIRATE RIDE AT A THEME PARK.  



Part 1

Amy scurried out of the exit, ran through the gift shop, and 
quickly jumped back into her small pirate boat.  The park was 
closing for the night, and she was determined to get in one 
last ride.  

As a 29-year-old MD, she felt a little silly running through a 
gift shop to jump into a little boat, but to her this was no 
ordinary ride.  

The attraction was a series of sets depicting robot pirates raiding 
a coastal town and burning it to the ground.  The ride recreated 
the look, in exacting detail, of a Caribbean town undergoing a 
pirate attack, and it was a delight for children and adults alike.

But it was the slave auction scene that fascinated Amy.  There, 
a pirate with a wicked-looking mustache and goatee auctioned off 
the town's maidens, in the town marketplace, in front of a bunch 
of drunken, loutish pirates.  The auctioneer was trying to sell a 
rather plump woman with little success, while the lusty pirates 
yelled, "We want the redhead!"    

Whenever Amy passed the scene she would always would touch her long 
red hair and imagine that she was the wench the pirates lusted 
after.  Although the scene was G-rated, it was clear that the 
pirates weren't looking for someone to play chess with, and the 
thought of being put on the auction block in front of those lusty, 
cheering men gave Amy a thrill she had never experienced before.   

Although though the pirates did not walk, they were otherwise 
completely realistic, particularly the one who played the 
auctioneer.  Amy had a very scientific and practical mind, but, 
as the day progressed, she felt as if the auctioneer were 
watching her and leering at her as she stroked her red hair.  

Amy quickly dismissed such thoughts.  After all, she was a 
respected doctor, not some airhead who couldn't separate 
fantasy from reality.  

She had ridden the ride at least 20 times that day, racing to the 
front of the queue through the gift shop every time she exited.  It 
was only when the ride had closed for the night that she lingered 
in the gift shop.  

Amy stopped at a bucket of cheap plastic manacles.  They were 
small, but Amy was still able to slip her hands into them.  She 
stood there for a moment, thinking about the ride, and the fierce 
pirate auctioneer....   

In her professional life, she was always in total control, and her 
somewhat curt manner had made her the terror of the hospital.  
Although she was beautiful, her dress and manner were frumpy, and 
she knew her colleagues viewed her as anything but a sex object.   

She looked around and saw that she was alone in the shop.  She 
closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like to 
totally lose control and be at the mercy of the cruel pirates.  

Regaining her composure, she sadly took the cheap plastic manacles 
off her wrists and threw them back into the bin and went on.  

She stopped in front of a painting that showed the concept art for 
the auction scene and stared at it for several minutes.  She was 
lost in her thoughts when she was startled by the voice of the 
sales clerk behind her.  

"It's quite an attraction, isn't it?" the clerk said, softly.  
"I've always found that one scene in particular to be interesting, 
don't you agree?" 

"Um...yes...quite...um...interesting." 

"No need to be embarrassed, dear," the saleswoman said.  She was 
a sweet-looking little old lady, and something about her seemed 
to suggest that she understand Amy perfectly.  "I saw you racing 
through to get back in line.  I think it's wonderful that you 
enjoyed our attraction all day....  I'm just sorry you can't enjoy 
it all night, too."  She looked up at the painting, and then at 
Amy, and smiled.  

"You know, seeing as how you're such a big fan, I have something 
I'd like you to see.  I had it made during a visit to New Orleans, 
just for a young lady like you.  A local silversmith and a Voodoo 
priestess worked on it together."  

She went behind the counter and returned with an elegant emerald 
necklace that was identical to the one the redheaded woman at the 
slave market was wearing.  She slipped it around Amy's neck.  

"You see, it fits you perfectly, my dear."   

Amy was not a fan of makeup or jewelry, but there was something 
about the necklace that made her feel tingly inside.   

She looked at herself in the mirror, and noticed the difference in 
her reflection.  Had she worn her hair loose today?  And why were 
the top three buttons of her blouse undone?   

She reached down and touched the hemline of her skirt nervously.  
She could have sworn she had worn blue jeans today, but the skirt 
she was wearing now just barely covered her panties and left her 
garter belt straps and the tops of her stockings exposed.   

Garter belt?  Amy didn't even OWN a garter belt. 

"The necklace is only $2,500," the clerk said, brightly.  "But, 
if you wear it to bed tonight, you'll see that it is worth every 
penny." 

"That's too much," Amy said, sharply, immediately taking off the 
necklace and putting it back on the counter.  "I could never spend 
that much money on a trinket, no matter how nice it made me look." 

"Don't think of it in terms of cost, think of it in terms of 
value," the clerk said, trying to get Amy to put the necklace 
on again.  

"I do look nice in it," Amy said, softly toying with the glowing 
emerald charm.   

"Jewelry isn't valuable because of how it makes a woman look, it 
is valuable because of how it makes a woman feel," the clerk said, 
sagely.  "Take it home tonight and wear it to bed,  I guarantee 
that you will come back and pay for it in the morning."  The 
saleslady smiled, shook her head, and laughed knowingly.  "They 
always do," she murmured.

"I know you can easily afford it," she added.  "For some reason, 
this necklace seems to attract only powerful, wealthy women.  I've 
sold it to lawyers, doctors, princesses, movie actresses, sports 
stars...the list of women who own this necklace would boggle your 
mind." 

Amy was reaching for her purse when she heard the clock toll in the 
distance.  The sound of the chimes seemed to break the spell, and 
she suddenly felt panicked.  She quickly turned and headed for the 
exit.  Seeing the door was locked, she tried another.   

"Sometimes the exit can be a little hard to find, young lady," the 
saleswoman said, meaningfully.  "Remember, wear it tonight, and 
you'll be back for more," she cackled.  

As Amy headed out of the park, she noticed her reflection in a 
store window.  A frumpy doctor in blue jeans with her blouse 
buttoned up to her neck stared back at her, and she sighed in 
disappointment.  

Maybe she would come back tomorrow.  

		****************************** 

Amy set her clock to be ready for the park's morning opening and 
started to lie down.  Then something small and green caught her 
eye on her nightstand.  

It was the emerald necklace. 

Amy couldn't believe it.  She KNEW she hadn't purchased it, and 
she had come straight back to her hotel room after the park had 
closed.  How had the necklace gotten there? 

She picked it up and put it on.  Once again, she felt an 
indescribable chill run through her, and a sudden urge to 
look at herself in the mirror.  

She was surprised at the sight.  She had put on a hairnet and a 
knee-length football jersey when she got ready for bed.  But now 
she was wearing a lacy white baby doll nightgown.  Her long red 
hair cascaded loosely around her shoulders.  She was beautiful! 
Slowly, she began to run her hand down between her breasts towards 
her most delicate place.  

But the scientist in her suddenly kicked in, and she demanded an 
explanation.  Remembering how her clothes had changed back when 
she had taken off the necklace in the shop, Amy decided to try 
the experiment again, and she tried to undo the clasp.  

It wouldn't come undone.... 

She sat on the edge of her bed and continued to fiddle with the 
necklace.  But, after only a few seconds, she felt herself overcome 
with a terrible fatigue, and she stretched out.  

The sound of the splashing water awoke her from her reverie.   

"Would Mistress like some more hot water?" her maid asked.  

Amy looked around.  She appeared to be in the luxurious tower room 
of some fabulous Caribbean palace, relaxing in a steaming bubble 
bath.  As she looked around the room, she slowly began to gain her 
bearings.  

She had no idea how she knew what she knew, but her new identity 
slowly soaked into her mind as she soaked her body in the tub.  
She was the wife of the royal governor, and the city was under 
attack by marauding pirates.  The governor had left to fight the 
pirates, but not before he had struck a deal with the pirate 
captain.  In exchange for safe passage through the enemy lines 
for his wife and her aristocratic friends, the governor had 
agreed to release the captured pirates from the local jail.  

Of course it was a trick, and the wagon that would carry the fine 
ladies of the town to safety also had a secret compartment that 
contained all of the town's most valuable treasures.  

The sound of the cannon echoed softly in the distance, and the 
night sky was brilliantly illuminated by the red glare from the 
rockets.  But Amy wanted to look her best for the journey, and 
she ordered her maid to pour some more steaming water into the 
bath.  

"You are lucky to be fleeing, my lady," the maid said.  "When 
the pirates find out that you have stolen the treasure, they 
will sack the town and put the women who are left on the auction 
block." 

"The auction block?" Amy said, her interest suddenly piqued.  

"Yes, my lady.  I was in San Searchem when the pirates took over 
the town.  The royal governor had escaped with the treasure, but 
his wife was trapped behind.  The pirate captain put her on the 
block, naked as the day she was born."  

"That would be so...humiliating," Amy said, slipping her hand 
delicately beneath the bubbles and between her thighs.  

"Oh, it was," the maid said, earnestly.  "After the pirates took 
the town, it was overrun by corrupt people from the neighboring 
islands searching for bargains.  The poor governor's wife was 
bought by a black Haitian plantation owner and his cruel wife."  

"My goodness!" Amy exclaimed.  "What happened to her?" 

"The black woman hated the beautiful and aristocratic white woman, 
and delighted in tormenting her.  She was forced to wear scanty 
rags while she shoveled horse dung and hauled water for her cruel 
mistress."    

"The master of the house began making lewd advances, and, since 
she was now a common serving girl, she was helpless to resist.  
When she complained, her mistress called her a liar and had her 
bare bottom paddled in front of the entire household." 

"The governor had located his wife and the other auctioned woman 
almost immediately and had quickly ransomed them back.  But the 
cruel black mistress did not release the governor's wife until 
she was almost five months pregnant.  Even now, the governor and 
his wife are constantly forced to explain to visitors why their 
son has coal black skin." 

Amy and the maid's story both climaxed at the same moment, and 
the maid smiled down as Amy closed her eyes and shuddered in the 
tub.  Amy's fantasy had been about the auction block, and she had 
never dreamed of the humiliations that might await her afterwards.  
The story the maid had told was so horrible -- and so deeply 
humiliating -- that it was just the ticket to push Amy over 
the edge.  

The maid pretended not to notice what had just happened, but 
quickly formed a plan.  "Of course the governor's wife was 
auctioned for 12 gold pieces, which is a record unmatched by 
any woman in the island," the maid said.  "I doubt there is 
a woman in the Caribbean who could match that...."  The maid 
paused and smiled.  "Except perhaps you, my lady," she added, 
mischievously.  

"Do you really think I would set a record?" Amy asked, flattered.  

"Well, it is difficult to say for sure, without seeing you in 
position....  I would need to see you the way you would appear 
on the block."  

Amy looked up suspiciously at her smiling maid.  She knew that she 
was being set up, but the tingling sensation between her legs told 
her not to stop. 

She was soon standing in front of the large window that faced the 
town wearing nothing but a towel.  The French doors opened onto a 
balcony that allowed her husband to make speeches to the entire 
town, and, despite the closed curtain, Amy felt nervous standing 
in such scanty clothing just a few feet in front of the large 
window.  

The maid tied Amy's hands together with coarse rope and then 
ordered her to stand on a stool.  The maid threw the other end 
of the rope over a ceiling beam and tied it off so that Amy's 
hands were held high over her head.   

Amy stood awkwardly on the stool while the maid tightly bound her 
ankles.  

"We need more of a chill in here," the maid said, with a cruel 
smile.  "On the block, your nipples will be in the breeze, my 
lady."  

While Amy babbled at her to stop, the maid took down the heavy 
drapes and threw open the French doors so that only the thin, 
transparent sheers protected Amy from being exposed to the 
town.  The maid then tied the curtain rod to another piece of 
rope, and threw that over a beam in front of the window.  She 
ran the other end of the rope between Amy's legs, warning her 
mistress to squeeze her thighs together tightly -- "or the 
town'll get a show!" 

The maid then took the curtain rod off the hooks in the wall, 
so that the only thing holding up the thin, sheer curtain was 
the rope between Amy's creamy white thighs.   

But the maid wasn't quite finished.  With one fluid motion, she 
ripped off Amy's towel and kicked the stool out from underneath 
her feet.  

Amy very nearly lost control of the rope between her thighs, and 
the curtain slipped down menacingly as she was suddenly jerked up 
by her wrists.   

She was utterly defenseless.  If she relaxed her thighs even a 
little, the rope would slip from between her legs, and the curtain 
would come down, exposing her nakedness for everyone to see.  

She dangled helplessly as the maid picked up a willow switch that 
Amy used to "correct" the servants.  She walked around her mistress 
knowingly.  "A nice flat tummy," she said, tapping Amy's belly 
button.  "Tiny, but firm boobies," she said with a laugh.  "A 
haughty and aristocratic manner...which will make it all the more 
delicious to break you in."  The maid stroked the switch teasingly 
across Amy's bare backside.  "And a luscious bare bottom just 
begging for discipline.  You'll fetch a pretty penny indeed, my 
red-haired doxy."  

The maid's humiliating assessment was interrupted by the sound of 
a carriage arriving in the courtyard.  By looking over her shoulder 
and craning her neck to the side, Amy could see out the side 
window.  The other aristocratic women of the town had arrived.  

"Let me down at once!" Amy demanded.  

"I don't think so," the maid replied, calmly.  "But I can have 
your friends up to see you, if you wish."  

"NO!" Amy cried.  The thought of the other ladies seeing her 
swaying naked in the breeze was too shameful to contemplate.  
As the governor's wife, she was the first lady of the island 
and was treated like a queen.  To be strung up like a goose 
was a disgrace she would never live down.  

"I can order them to leave without you, if you tell me where the 
governor's seal is," the maid said in a calculating tone.  "And 
you'd better tell me where the "Safe Passage" document is, too." 

What choice did Amy have?  She told the maid everything she wanted 
to know, and the maid quickly scribbled out an order.  Amy craned 
her neck to see what the maid was writing.  

It wasn't a release order.  It was an arrest order.  The order said 
that the ladies in the yard were to be arrested and locked into the 
courtyard prison.  Furthermore, the guards were to escort the 
scheming MAID to a destination of her choice, with the wagon, 
and then release her.  

Amy pleaded with her maid to steal the treasure, but let her go.  
The maid just laughed, however.  "Since you were so interested 
in the block, my fine lady, I decided to let you and all of your 
dandy friends have a dance on it.  If you're lucky, maybe that 
cruel black mistress will be looking for another governor's wife 
to shame and tame." 

Amy shuddered at the thought and twisted desperately in her bonds.  
But the thought of the block caused her juices to begin flowing 
again, which caused the rope to slip down a bit farther. 

"My-oh-my!" the maid said.  "It looks like someone's wet little 
snatch is going to get her into a world of trouble.  Try not to 
get too juicy, my dear, or you'll put on quite a show for the 
town." 

The maid sealed the order and put the seal and the safe passage in 
her pocket.  Then she playfully patted Amy on the bottom and winked 
at her before going downstairs.  

		******************************


Part 2: AMY'S FANTASY BECOMES MORE COMPLEX...AND MORE TANGIBLE 

Amy could hear the women downstairs screaming as they were forced 
into the courtyard jail, but she had other concerns.  She found 
that by working her thighs just right, she could gradually pull 
the rope tighter and move a bit more of it between her legs.  
The problem was that the action caused the rope to rub against 
her exposed clitoris, making her juices flow and her concentration 
ebb.  But, with superhuman effort, she managed to work the rope up 
a bit so that the drapes seemed a tad less precarious than they did 
when the evil maid abandoned her.

Down in the courtyard, there was a dog yapping and women yelling at 
the dog.  Although she tried to concentrate on the matter at hand, 
her curiosity finally got the better of her and she craned her neck 
around to see what was happening.  

The women had been locked in a large steel cage at the side of the 
courtyard.  Amy knew all of the women as respected members of the 
island community of her dream, but she also recognized a few of 
them from "real life" as well.  She spotted a famous movie actress 
and a television journalist.  It was confusing at first, until 
she realized that each of the women wore an emerald broach, or 
an emerald necklace, or had some piece of emerald jewelry on.

Apparently she wasn't the only young woman who was living out a 
submissive fantasy that night.

The women, in varying stages of undress, were trying to use their 
garments as a rope to capture a small dog that playfully held the 
key to their cell in its mouth.  Amy recalled seeing a similar 
scene on the pirate ride, where the pirates tried to entice a 
small dog into giving them the key to release them from a burning 
jail.

But of course in this version, the proud women were being forced 
to strip to capture the dog.  Each woman would tie her garments 
together, using a shoe or some other heavy item to weight the end 
of the rope in an effort to snare the dog.  

But the clever dog would always jump on the garment and cause 
it to tear, or unknot it with his paws, or otherwise destroy the 
lifeline.  Then he would drop the key and playfully take the torn 
garment over to the courtyard well and drop it in.  

Then he would gleefully trot back to the front of the cell, pick up 
the key again, and, with tail wagging, wait for the next woman to 
strip.

To the dog, the women's ordeal was just an exciting game of tug of 
war, no different than a game of catch.  But, to the women, it was 
the most sexually humiliating experience of their lives.

They blushed hotly and sobbed in misery as the clever pooch slowly 
stripped them.  But what choice did they have?  When the pirates 
arrived, they would be stripped anyway; at least this way they 
had a chance of escape.  Each woman knew that, if the pirates 
caught them, they would have to face the shame and humiliation 
of the dreaded block.  

The scene before her was so strange that Amy almost lost control 
of the rope between her now soaking wet thighs.  It took her 
several minutes to manoeuvre the curtain back up into position.

She was starting to work on the knot on her wrists when she was 
again distracted by the sound of the dog yelping in the yard.

The movie actress Amy had spotted earlier had ensnared one of the 
dog's paws and was now dragging the howling pooch closer to the 
cage.  The woman, naked except for her white cotton drawers, had 
a look of grim satisfaction on her face as she dragged the helpless 
dog forward.  But, just as she reached down for him, the clever 
mutt shook his head and flung the key in his mouth away from the 
cage.

The actress grabbed the dog, but cooler heads prevailed, and the 
other women prevented her from sending the pooch to doggie heaven.  
The clever dog had flung the key behind the well, which meant the 
women could not use their remaining clothing to snare it.  The 
mangy mutt was still their only hope.

So after several minutes of stroking the dog, and giving him little 
doggie treats, and trying to win his love, the desperate women 
released him.  

The dog immediately scampered back to get the key.  Then he planted 
himself about twenty feet in front of the portion of the cell where 
the half-naked movie star stood and began barking furiously.  

Several of the other women started to strip and tried to ensnare 
the dog, but he totally ignored them and focused his attention on 
the blushing, angry actress, who was standing in front of the dog 
with her arms folded over her bare breasts.

Amy had read an article about the movie star in the paper just that 
morning.  The beautiful actress had just signed a multi-million 
dollar deal, rumored to be the largest in motion picture history.  
The deal made her the most powerful woman in Hollywood and gave 
her complete creative control over all of her projects.  And, of 
course, it contained a strict clause that guaranteed that the 
beautiful actress would never have to appear naked in a film.

Amy knew what the star was thinking.  She had become a world-famous 
star without taking off her clothes, and she was damned if she was 
going to be stripped naked by some stupid dog.

But the dog ignored the other women and deliberately stood far 
enough away to make snaring him hopeless.  He was not going to 
play until the woman who had almost strangled him was made to 
pay for her misdeed by surrendering her last remaining garment.

The star glared at the happy dog with undisguised hatred.  The 
other women were yelling at her now, telling her to "drop your 
drawers -- before the pirates do it for you!" 

The furiously blushing actress turned crimson as she undid the bow 
on her pantaloons and let them slide down her long, luscious legs.  

The dog started to do a triumphal little dance in front of the 
cage, and the actress wadded her pants up and threw them at the 
dog in frustration, still cursing in disbelief that she had just 
been stripped butt-naked by a DOG. 

The dog's tail wagged happily as he watched the frilly drawers 
float happily to the bottom of the well.

The scene was so bizarre -- and the dog's triumph so complete -- 
that Amy started to have a series of orgasms, each more powerful 
than the last.  She was so lost in her pleasure that she didn't 
even feel the rope slip from between her thighs or see the sheer 
curtain slowly fluttering down.

When her eyes finally opened, she realized that she had just had a 
series of orgasms in front of the entire town.  She could see the 
people in the street staring up at her and the pirates jeering at 
her naked, shuddering body.  

The pirates had taken control of the town, although they hadn't 
reached her palace yet.  She looked down to the market and saw 
the pirate chief had already prepared the auction block for the 
day's catch.  The cruel smile on his lips told Amy that he had 
seen her orgasm in the window and was already assessing the price 
she would bring.

Amy looked on in horror as the pirate mounted his horse and 
galloped with his men toward her palace.  She imagined the 
horror of watching each of the women in the yard auctioned 
off first before her turn came....

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

Amy awoke, startled at the sound of her alarm clock.  She was back 
in her hotel room, a million miles away from the burning town and 
the auction block.  The sopping wetness between her legs was the 
only indication of what had just happened.

She felt her neck; the necklace was gone.  She looked in the 
mirror and saw she was once again dressed in her frumpy 
nightshirt.  

Though she desperately wanted to touch herself, she couldn't spare 
the time right then; she was determined to be at the park when it 
opened.  She had to get that necklace.

Forty minutes later, she was pounding on the door of the gift shop, 
desperate for it to open.  Frustrated, she decided to kill a few 
minutes by taking the ride again.

The ride progressed as normal, until Amy reached the auction scene. 
For a brief moment, time itself seemed to stop, and she heard the 
auctioneer's cruel voice inside her head....

"You're not the first woman from your century to feel the shame and 
humiliation of my auction block, and you won't be the last," the 
voice said.  "You think you're special, but you're just another 
pretty slut in my coffle now, good for a toss in the hay and a 
few gold coins in my purse. 

"Your fancy education and modern ways won't help you on the block, 
my pretty.  The stones of the auction block are worn smooth with 
the dainty feet of sassy career women like you, and, when I rip 
off your bed sheet and leave you naked as a jaybird, the crowd 
won't be thinking about medical degrees or women's rights."

"You won't strip me...totally naked...will you?" Amy pleaded.

"Cows and sheep are auctioned naked.  Why not you?" the pirate 
sneered.  "Just because a piglet can stand on two legs instead 
of four and can snort and squeal about her rights is no reason 
to give her fancy drawers.  Livestock is always auctioned naked.  
The buyers have every right to see the goods.

"That's right, my pretty," the pirate continued in his cruel, 
raspy voice.  "I'll strip you bare naked, same as all the rest.  
I've put professors, politicians, and princesses on the block, 
and their liberated ways and fancy degrees don't make them any 
less naked...or make them blush less. 

"I'll have a fit price for you, my stuck up little doxy, and, if 
that means that you have to bend and spread, kneel and squat, laugh 
and prance, then so be it.  When I crack the whip you'll dance a 
jig, same as all the rest.  So don't be thinking I'll go easy 
because you have the word "Doctor" in front of your name.  You're 
just another little vixen now, with her legs spread nice and wide 
for the crowd to chuckle at.  I'll be waiting for you tonight, my 
proud beauty, and we'll continue where we left off."

The ride continued, and Amy awoke as if from a dream.  The rest of 
the ride was normal, except for the way Amy flushed when she passed 
the scene of the small dog teasing the pirates with the key to 
their prison.

As soon as the ride was over, Amy raced into the gift shop.  To her 
relief, the same clerk was waiting behind the counter with her arms 
folded.  The woman had a smug, "I-told-you-so" look on her face, 
but Amy ignored her and quickly slapped her platinum card on the 
counter.  

"Would you like me to wrap it?" the clerk asked, slyly.

"Uh...no....  I'll wear it out," Amy said.  

"Be careful, my dear.  There are some college football players 
outside the front door, and I told them that there was a cute 
little red-headed groupie who would do ANYTHING for their 
autographs," the clerk said, mischievously.  "I told them that 
you were traveling alone and might want to join their tour group.  
I told them that you were having a hard time reading the park map 
and needed some big strong men to tell you what to do."

"I can read a map!" Amy replied, angrily.  "And I certainly don't 
need a bunch of football jocks bossing me around all day."

"The beauty of the necklace is that it adjusts the woman to meet 
the situation," the clerk explained.  "The necklace knows that the 
boys are expecting some air-headed floozy, and that's what it'll 
give them.  Of course, deep inside, you'll still burn with 
indignation as they order you about, and squeeze your bottom, 
and treat you like a piece of meat; that is what will make your 
helplessness so DELICIOUS."

Amy felt her face burn with shame as she imagined herself 
transformed into everything she hated for the amusement of 
the Neanderthal jocks.  But she was curious about what she 
would look like when she put on the necklace.  She had worn 
boring khakis and a conservative white blouse, with sensible 
loafers.  How would the necklace dress her for the college boys?

Amy took a deep breath, put on the necklace, and walked over to 
the mirror.  Her jaw dropped.

The woman in the mirror was wearing a bright yellow bikini top and 
a short denim skirt that barely covered her yellow bikini panties.  
Her red hair was in a ponytail, and she was wearing a cap with the 
team's logo on the front.  White athletic socks and cheap sneakers 
completed the outfit.  

Amy admired herself in the mirror and blew a bubble with the huge 
wad of bubble gum in her mouth.  

Had she been chewing gum before?

She was pleased that her outfit was so sexy, but it was too trashy 
to wear in public.  She shuddered as she imagined the lustful male 
looks and the hateful glares from their wives as she pranced around 
the park dressed like a horny coed on the prowl.

She tried to undo the clasp on the necklace, intending to return 
herself to her ordinary appearance.  But the clasp wouldn't budge.  
She tried to pull it off, but it was far stronger than her lovely 
neck, and she soon gave it up in helpless frustration.

"It's a voodoo spell, dear," the salesclerk said, gently.  "You 
couldn't get it off with a blowtorch.  The necklace won't let 
you take it off until your 'adventure' for the day is over."

Amy stared in disbelief.  She was going to be an air-headed bimbo 
all day, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"I think I'd better take your purse, dear," the clerk said, 
soothingly, unhooking the purse from Amy's arm.  "I don't 
think a girl as dull as you are should be carrying around 
this much money.  In the morning, when the necklace comes 
undone, you can pick it up in lost and found."

"But I have dinner reservations," Amy protested, barely remembering 
her reservations at the elegant French restaurant outside the park. 
"How will I pay for my food?"

"The boys will tell you what to eat, and when," the clerk replied.  
"I'm sure they'll let you mooch off them, if you earn your supper." 

Amy felt herself blushing at the thought of bartering for a hot 
dog with the horny boys.  She had a feeling it might be the most 
expensive meal of her life.

"But what about my room key?" she said, hesitantly.  She felt her 
mind becoming muddled.  It was increasingly difficult to remember 
even what else was in her purse.

"I'm sure the boys will have some ideas about where you should 
sleep tonight," the clerk said with a wink.  "So you'd better 
be nice to them."

"If I go out another exit...I may be able to miss...them," Amy 
said, taxing her dulling wits to their fullest in a desperate 
attempt to find a way out.  "I can't remember what door you 
said they were outside of."

"Don't worry, dear, I'll make sure you go out the right door," the 
clerk said, helpfully.  "Now why don't you just play with this 
shiny little coin while I go ring up your final purchase of the 
day?"

She handed Amy a shiny plastic doubloon.  A bag of the cheap 
trinkets sold for 50 cents, but Amy smiled with delight as 
she looked at the brightly colored coin.

"Can I keep it....PLEASE?" Amy whined.  

"Of course, my dear," the clerk said with a cruel smile.  "Just 
put it in your pocket before anyone sees you." 

Amy stupidly looked around the store and then greedily stuck the 
coin in her pocket.  In a few seconds, she forgot it was there 
and found her attention drawn to a comic book on the shelf.

The clerk smiled as she took Amy's purse and platinum card into 
the back room.  At the end of the day she would call her friend in 
security, and explain that some red-headed coed in a yellow bikini 
top had just stolen a cheap coin to impress the boys she was with.  
The coin was too cheap to press charges over, but cuffing the 
little tramp in the middle of the park and parading her through 
to the security office would be a good lesson for her.  Once in 
custody she knew the horny guards would perform a full cavity 
search on the weeping, penitent girl.  The clerk smiled as she 
imagined Amy blushing and squirming as she stripped and squatted 
in front of the grinning football players and the male security 
officers.

After a few seconds, Amy put the comic book down.  It had too 
many big words, and why would she want to read? 

She felt a brief sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as 
she realized how quickly her intelligence and independence were 
slipping away.  But then that too faded.

Alone in the shop, she took a moment to examine her surroundings.  
Like the ride, the shop was carefully themed, and she noticed that 
the black stones she was standing on were identical to those that 
formed the auction block in the attraction.  The stones, held 
together by mortar, looked like their surfaces had been worn 
smooth by years of traffic.

Whatever her adventures were today, Amy knew she could return to 
the world of the pirates when she fell asleep tonight.  She would 
be an intelligent, dignified, and refined young lady once again.

Of course, the swaggering auctioneer would be waiting for her, 
anxious to strip away her dignity, her pride, her clothing....

Amy slipped her sandals off and gingerly stepped onto the smooth 
stone block.  A chill ran up her legs as she felt her bare feet 
press against the cold, unforgiving stone....



Edited by C. Lakewood

