Beach Surprise
by Greg Ossog
Students of Vaughn-Strickland who encounter a case like Jim
Donner's often think some sort of mind control is involved: that
Jim somehow manipulates women around him like chess pieces. But
VS for men doesn't work that way; instead, events happen by
chance, in concert, to manufacture "good luck" for the subject,
without his having to arrange it. The very first day for Jim, at
Toro Beach, illustrates this point.
Toro Beach, in southern California, is partially protected by a
spit of land and rock, so that waves are gentle. The beach
itself is separated from the parking area by a serpentine dune,
about 15 feet high, dotted with dry grasses and shrubs. So when
college student Beth Gergen drove her red Miata into the parking
area, Jim, who was on the beach, had no idea she was there. In
fact, he wouldn't even know who she was until she returned about
an hour later and clambered over the dune.
There were of course several women coming to the beach: it was
about 10 in the morning, shaping up to be another nice summer
day. Beth Gergen was "picked" for the usual VS reason: she was
physically attractive, with pale white skin, voluptuous build,
and long jet-black hair cascading down in gentle waves. The
preceding Halloween, she summed up the courage to dress as
Vampirella, carefully taping the sashes of red fabric over her
breasts. She stole the attention of every boy at that party.
She looked good in black clothing; it was one of her favorite
colors. But she liked red even more. The bikini she wore was a
fire-engine red, a close match to her Miata; and her favorite
party dress, in the closet at home, was the same color.
Beth drove into the lot looking forward to a little quiet time:
do some reading, scope out some guys, think a little about what
to do later with her friends. After a year of being constantly
surrounded by fellow college students, she welcomed the relative
anonymity of a public beach, where families and groups of
friends usually kept to themselves.
Before she could park, however, she was struck by an impulse of
surprising power, as if prodded with an electric baton. She sat
stunned for a moment, car idling, then she sped out of the lot.
There was a compulsion to return home, as quickly as possible.
For what reason, she didn't know; but she was unable to resist.
As she steered back onto the main road, she felt a bubbling
anxiety about not being back home yet.
The sense of urgency increased as Beth drove through town, going
as fast as she thought was safe without crashing or getting
pulled over. She muttered "C'mon, c'mon!" at cars and
pedestrians slowing her progress. Her heart was pounding faster,
as if running in place, or watching a scary movie.
Somehow the situation was making her feel sexually aroused as
well. Without really thinking about it, she had her right hand
in her lap, and then underneath her bikini bottoms, fingering
herself as she steered with the other hand. At a stoplight she
rose up in her seat slightly, and awkwardly slipped the bottoms
off, leaving them on the floor. She banged her knee on the
steering wheel doing this, creating a bruise that showed up
later, but she wouldn't remember how she got it. Whether anyone
saw her like this, bottomless and hand between her legs, she
didn't notice.
She was about halfway home, past the center of town, and her
nipples had hardened, erect like gumdrops, and her top was
feeling constrictingly tight. She didn't feel safe taking it off
here, though; it would be too conspicuous and she didn't want to
be stopped. She did reach back and undo the clasp, letting the
top loosely cover her breasts.
Still the top irritated her. About a mile from her house, she
took it off and tossed it outside. Now nude, her mind seemed to
clear and she was able to focus. She needed to put on different
clothes; that's why she was going home. The bikini wasn't right,
it wasn't the right thing to wear, and that's why she had taken
it off. As she sped past, a man picking up the newspaper blinked
at what he wasn't sure he had seen. Surely that wasn't a naked
woman in that car.
Beth pulled into the driveway diagonally, just barely out up out
of the street, and sprinted into the house. "Beth, is that you?"
her mother called.
"Forgot something. Gotta go get it," Beth yelled, bounding up
the stairs. Her mom caught just a glimpse of her running up and
shook her head at the skimpy things kids wore these days. It
almost looked like her daughter wasn't wearing anything at all.
Beth stood in front of her closet, fidgeting, shifting weight
from one foot to another. Her right hand was at her chin, as she
nibbled at a fingernail, not biting through, but just worrying
at it. Her left hand was between her legs. She might not even
have noticed she was stroking herself.
(Her neighbor, the 45-year-old man who happened to glance
through her window, did notice. The best sight of her he had
previously enjoyed was last summer, when she was watering the
back lawn accidentally sprayed herself, drenching the front of
her white T-shirt. She hadn't been wearing a bra, and the thin
cotton turned nearly transparent against her breasts.)
Now that she was home, nothing looked suitable to wear. Beth was
at a standstill, paralyzed by indecision, anxiety mounting.
Finally the answer occurred to her. She ran down the hall to the
den, where she knew a pair of sharp scissors was. Heedless of a
thousand mothers' warnings, she ran back with the scissors to
her room. Luckily her brother was already out of the house. As
far as she knew, he had not seen her naked since before puberty.
She started with a red polo shirt that was a little too small,
and cut off large swathes of fabric. Sleeves, collar and midriff
were gone, making it a strapless bandeau, about five inches
wide, that covered enough of her breasts to technically not be
indecent. She tried it on; a single button strainingly held it
together.
An old pair of black bikini panties became the bottom; from
these she cut out the elastic waistband. When she put them on,
they had trouble staying up, and tended to drift down whenever
she walked, or even stood with her legs slightly apart. Still,
an overwhelming feeling of relief confirmed that this outfit was
the right thing to wear. She walked gingerly down the stairs,
shouting "Bye Mom" as she stepped outside.
The drive back to the beach was sedate. Beth felt no urge to
speed, or touch herself, or take all her clothes off. She knew
her skimpy outfit was attracting some attention, and that her
large breasts were putting a lot of stress on the button holding
together her improvised top; but nothing worried her. Everything
was going to be all right.
Back at the parking lot, Beth stepped out of the car, then
leaned over to get her beach mat and bag. The panties slipped
down to her knees, exposing her bottom. Normally she would have
been mortified about such a thing; but instead she was merely
irritated. The panties were proving a nuisance. She hiked them
back up and walked toward the dune, and a small footpath leading
to the beach. She took small steps. She had no hands free to
hold her panties up.
She climbed to the top of the dune without incident, seeing the
ocean for the first time. It was a beautiful day. But just
standing there, pausing to enjoy the view, caused her panties to
slide down again. A few people on the beach had already noticed
her and were no doubt happily surprised to see her accidentally
bottomless. A neat triangle of black pubic hair contrasted
sharply with her pale skin.
In order to cover up as quickly as possible, she bent forward,
trying to hook the sides with two fingers while still holding
her things. This put just enough additional stress on the single
button holding together her stretched top to snap its thread.
The top nearly sprang off to the back, and her breasts quivered
slightly as they were revealed.
Now Beth was in worse shape, practically naked, still trying to
pull her panties back up, and drawing more attention. Flustered,
she finally got a grip on the delicate black fabric and pulled
up, so at least most of her butt and pubic area was covered. Her
exposed breasts she could do nothing about right now. She
carefully started downhill.
Even though she was going slowly, at the second step she lost
her footing and fell headlong. She ended up on her stomach and
sliding down a little bit. She lay there dazed for a few
moments, sand in her face and clinging to her breasts.
Jim had been walking by moments before, and Beth had caught his
eye as soon as she reached the top of the dune. He stopped and
watched the whole thing happen, about 20 feet away. When she
fell, he jogged over to assist her. The other people looking on
apparently were just content to watch.
The girl was starting to prop herself up, shaking her head and
spitting out sand. Raven-black hair spilled out over her
shoulders and back. Even at first sight, with her in an
unflattering position, he knew she was beautiful. Large breasts
slowly lifted off the sand as she came to her elbows. Long legs
and a curvaceous body were separated by the skimpiest black
underthings, which had slipped down a bit, exposing most of her
lovely ass.
The first thing he did, even before speaking to her, was to tug
at her panties until the fabric ripped and gave way. He tossed
the material to the side. And just in time, too; seconds later
she got to her knees. Then he extended a hand and helped her to
her feet. Her naked body was perfection in his eyes. Melon-sized
natural breasts that needed no bra. Torso tapering down to a
trim waist, then flowering into voluptuous hips, neatly trimmed
pussy and lovely legs. It was silly for any of this to be
covered up.
"Are you OK?" he said. "Looks like you had a bad fall."
Beth was still a little shaken and didn't answer. Sand was still
stuck to her tummy, breasts, forearms and thighs.
Jim started to gently brush the sand away. She watched him do
this, not resisting, even when he paid considerable attention to
her breasts, nipples, and pubic area. After he finished, he
walked slowly around her, checking everything out. She was quite
beautiful, even by southern California standards. What a
knockout.
"I think you're OK now," he said. "Whoops, missed one." A few
grains of sand rested on her red lips. He brushed them with a
fingertip and then gave her a quick kiss. "My name's Jim."
"I'm Beth," she said, looking into his eyes. Then she kissed
him, open lips, hungry, oblivious to those around her, not
caring she was naked.
"Would you like to come with me?"
"Yes," she said.
He took her to his blanket, in a less crowded area of the beach,
and laid her on her back. She still seemed a little out of it,
and was happy to gaze up at him. The sight of her laying there,
nipples pointing straight up, legs slightly spread to show her
moist pink slit... that was too much for Jim to put off
enjoying. He stripped off his trunks, touched her a little bit
to make sure she was wet, and then guided himself in.
Beth was an enthusiastic lovemaker, moving in concert with him,
alternately caressing him and raking his back with her nails.
Neither of them cared that probably no one else at the beach was
even topless, and they were having sex not 50 feet away from
other beachgoers.
He pulled out temporarily to spend some time nibbling and
licking her delicious tits, and then moved down between her
legs, licking her pussy until she seemed almost ready to come.
When he got back inside her, a few strategic caresses of her
left nipple were enough to send her over the edge. After her
climax, he let himself go and came too.
They spent a while just laying there in the sun naked, her head
on his shoulders, he on his back. After a while Beth returned to
her supine position and fell asleep. He marveled at this:
asleep, nude, on a public beach, legs not even crossed, showing
everything. Was that confidence, or trust, or just "I don't
care"?
Jay put on his trunks and got up to get drinks. Without knowing
the exact reasons, he was sure Beth would be OK by herself until
he returned.
The line was long at the snack bar. He fell in behind a blonde
woman with short hair, and and hourglass figure almost like
Beth's. She had cute legs and a nice ass, but the blue one-piece
she wore was way too modest in his view. She had some freckles
on her shoulders.
"Long line," Jim remarked.
She turned around. A cute face, not super skinny like a model's.
Nice boobs too, although her swimsuit didn't show much of a
neckline. "Sort of like purgatory", she said. "Like line
torture." She had a cute smile, intelligent eyes and evidently a
unique sense of humor.
Line torture? Hmmm. "Too bad there's no safe word," Jay said.
"What's a safe word?"
"When you're doing bondage and domination play, it's supposed to
be consensual, even though you're playing at being master and
slave. The safe word is something the "slave" can say at any
time to stop whatever they're doing and go back to normal. It's
like an escape valve."
"Bondage is like whips and chains, right?"
"Not just that. There are all sorts of roles you can play. But
you'll have one person commanding the other and often doing what
looks like abuse. But with the safe word, the submissive one
actually determines how far things go."
"That's fascinating, how it turns things around!" she said. "So
how does it work in practice?" she said.
"Well, we could do a little session right here in line. No
whips, because I left them at home."
She laughed. "Good thing. Well, we are stuck here for a while,
so let's try it. Before we start, what's your name?"
"Jim."
"I'm Jolene. Glad to meet you, master." She shook his hand.
"Shall we start?"
"Sure. For the safe word, let's just use the number eight."
"Okay. Easy enough."
"Good. First thing you need to do is take off your sandals and
put them over there."
She looked puzzled for a second, as if she was really expecting
him to ask something else. But she doffed her sandals and
returned to the line. "That wasn't so bad. Sounds more like
Simon Says."
"It's not only following directions," Jim said. "Also the
dominant person can do what he or she wants with the submissive.
Like this." He drew up close behind her and placed his hands at
her hips. He spoke softly in her ear. "Until, of course, the
safe word."
She tensed up but otherwise stood still. "You know, I'm not
comfortable with basically a complete stranger touching me like
that."
"You know the safe word. You can use it at any time." She
didn't. He could feel her relax at his touch.
"I'm starting to understand this more, now," she said. "So I can
protest and you can still overpower me. The safe word is just to
let you know when I really mean it."
"That's exactly right." He moved his hands slowly upward from
her hips to her waist and higher. He still had not touched her
bare skin -- she wore a one-piece -- but he was moving toward
cupping her breasts underneath.
"You keep going, I'm going to say it," she warned.
"That way, we find some limits," he said, and took his hands
away.
He then started to massage her shoulders, which she enjoyed.
("This bondage stuff isn't bad at all.") After getting her
accustomed to that, he slipped his fingers underneath her
swimsuit straps.
"Jim, please stop," she said. "I don't want you reaching
underneath." The line moved forward slightly.
Jim ignored her. Nothing she could say besides the safe word
would get his attention. He shifted the straps over her
shoulders and onto her arms, leaving the neck and shoulders
bare; then he caressed her there for a little while. Jolene's
body language showed some discomfort at this, but she didn't
move away or say anything.
The line was moving a little faster now. There might not be as
much time as he had thought.
He wanted to pull down her straps far enough to free her arms
and create a sleeveless maillot for Jolene, still covering
everything except her arms and shoulders. But the material
wouldn't stretch that far. To move toward freeing her arms, he
would have to peel the entire suit down to near her waist. He
slowly did so, gradually exposing more and more of the tops of
her breasts. "Don't do this, it's not right," she said, almost
in a whisper. He ignored her and kept going.
Once he got the material over her nipples, there was more slack
and her breasts were easily bared. "Oh god," she said. "I can't
believe this." He let go of her swimsuit and started to fondle
her breasts from behind. The woman in front of them turned back,
saw this, and looked at Jim with an arched eyebrow. He smiled
guiltily and she smiled back. She was cute; a slim brunette in a
tiny black bikini. Maybe he could hook up with her next.
Jolene still seemed unhappy, even though she was getting
noticeably aroused. Her pink nipples hardened to nubs between
Jim's teasing fingers. "Use the safe word if you want," he
whispered. He was glad she was going along this far.
It was time to uncover more of her soft skin. He peeled the suit
down to her waist, and then started fondling her bottom, which
was still covered for now, sort of a preview for later. She was
really getting into this, not even half-heartedly protesting
anymore. The black bikini woman was watching again.
Jolene looked silly now, most of her swimsuit hanging limply
below the waist. The highest point was now at hiphugger height,
and Jim kept slowly peeling it down. The cleft between her butt
cheeks came to light, and the first tufts of her pubic hair
began to show.
The person in front of black bikini woman tapped her shoulder;
she was next. She reluctantly turned away to make her order.
Time was running out. Jolene's ass and pussy were almost
completely exposed when Jim pulled everything down to her
ankles. "Step out," he said, and she did.
He said, "Give your suit to that guy in the green trunks." He
was about 18 or so, drinking a Coke and watching her. "Don't say
anything to him; just give him the suit and come back."
She obeyed, and walked calmly back to him. He saw her full
frontal nude for the first time. He guessed he wasn't the only
one with a tent pole in his swim trunks.
Black bikini woman had her order and turned for one last
glimpse. She smiled and shook her head. "Have fun." Jim hoped he
could find her again.
Jolene was at the front of the line. Jim had her face forward
with legs shoulder length apart. "Order three lemonades," he
told her, and inserted a finger in her pussy. He left her
breasts uncovered for the server to see.
"Th-three lemonades, please," she said as Jim fingered her. The
counterperson, a boy still with pimples on his face, leaned over
and stared down at her body. Jim removed his hand to give the
guy a look at Jolene's pussy.
"Uh, six dollars, please," the kid said.
"You don't have any money," Jim whispered. "Maybe he can touch
your tits."
"Oh, I don't have anything with me," she said coyly to the boy.
She caressed her breasts, tweaking her nipples with her thumbs.
"Do you want to touch these? That should be worth something."
"I - okay, I can do these on the house," the boy said.
"Oh, thank you." She leaned forward on her tiptoes and he
hesitantly reached out to her. "Don't be shy," she said. "I love
being naked and I love when a man touches me." The boy cupped
her breasts and then began pawing them. It was the first time he
had touched a naked woman. He was eager but not very skilled. To
make her more aroused, Jim resumed fingering her pussy.
"Oh, my god," Jolene said, and then "oh" at intervals that got
closer and closer. The trouble was, nobody was making their
drinks. Jim had her stop and step back, and remind the boy to
get their lemonades.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said as she carried them away.
Jim didn't let Jolene even look for her swimsuit. Perhaps the
guy she gave it to would keep it for a souvenir. He led her back
to his area, passing by dozens of people gawking at the naked
woman carrying drinks.
At his towel, Beth had woken up and waved sleepily.
"What's going on here?" Jolene asked. "Are you collecting naked
women or something?"
"Don't ask questions," Jim said. "Lay down on the towel next to
Beth."
Instead, Jolene stepped up to Jim and kissed him lightly on the
lips, hers slightly open, with the tip of her tongue. "Eight,"
she said with a mischievous smile, looking him straight in the
eye.
"What?" Jolene's behavior had changed so abruptly it was like a
switch had flipped.
"Eight. The safe word. I'm done playing."
"But you came all the way out here..."
"You wouldn't understand. Even I don't understand a lot about
it. But it sometimes works retroactively." Jim was about to ask
what she was talking about when she dropped to her knees next to
Beth. "What's your name?" Jolene asked, in almost the sing-song
voice kindergarten teachers use. "Beth?"
Beth nodded, gazing up at Jolene with wide eyes.
Jolene ran one hand through Beth's long hair, and then caressed
one breast, culminating with a gentle squeeze of the nipple
between thumb and finger. Beth sighed. "You're beautiful, Beth,"
Jolene said, and leaned over her, one hand planted on each side,
lowering herself as if to kiss. Then she shook her head. "I
really shouldn't," she said, more to herself, and stood up.
"I have to leave, Jim," said Jolene. "But don't cry over spilt
milk. There will be plenty of Beths from now on. But remember
that they're temporary. Not yours to keep. So have a little fun,
and then let her get on with her life. OK?"
"OK," said Jim, though he had no idea what she was talking
about.
"It was nice to meet you," Jolene said, extending a hand. Jim
found shaking hands with a naked woman very odd, and she seemed
to be treating this like a successful sales call. "I'd better go
find my swimsuit," she said. "Hope it's still there!"
With a huge grin, she stepped back, gave Jim a mock salute, and
walked away. She didn't seem to mind being naked in the open at
all. He stood there and watched until she was out of sight. He
missed her very much.
"I know I've been had," he said, shaking his head. "I just don't
know how." She had obviously planned this somehow. What was in
it for her?
"What'd you say?" Beth said, groggily.
"Nothing." He sat down next to her. "Here's your lemonade." She
sat up and they both sipped their drinks, watching the surf.
Jim's confusion and regret ebbed after a while. After all, Beth
was still here, she was naked and beautiful, and she might fancy
another go-round, as the Brits would say. So he'd have to let
her go; he could worry about that when the time came. She lay
back down, stretching her arms, offering her nude body to him;
he took one of those beautiful breasts in a hand and started to
caress.
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