The Last Straw (new 4/17)

[neverdoubted]

Looking forwward to the next chapter

Happy to oblige

[neverdoubted]

The path led us directly away from the road and we quickly lost sight of it. We walked along in near silence. The only sound, other than the lower edge of the travois being dragged across the underbrush, came from Mary's heavier than usual breathing.

My confidence grew even as nature enveloped us, but the girls were having a harder time getting acclimated. I felt sorry for poor Cindy. She had made a point to wear her church shoes for this hike, but I had taken them away to keep her from getting blisters. She chose each of her steps carefully - tiptoeing around rocks or any pointy-looking growth to protect her tender, bare feet.

It got me thinking about another of the many nuggets of wisdom about girls that my schoolmate Abe had mentioned; like their supposed obsession with all things chocolate.

It was after school, and a group of us teenage boys were huddled around him waiting for the bus. At that age, we were all so starved for any sort of insight into the opposite sex, that no one questioned where Abe was getting his inexplicable information. We just hung on his every word.

"You know what they say," he bragged, stretching out his suspenders with a dramatic flourish, "if a girl has sensitive feet, it's not the only part of her that's sensitive, heh!"

I nodded along with the other boys even though I didn't have the slightest clue what other parts Abe was talking about. But surely, I wasn't the only one in that group of newly pubescent males playing catch up when it came to the subject of girls' bodies.

"If you ever find one like that, give her a good foot rub," he continued, "like working a lump of silly putty. Pretty soon, she'll get stars in her eyes and, well, you'll thank me later."

I had laughed knowingly at the time but walked away with a new mystery to ponder. Only now, after spending so much time around my naked stepsisters and getting to study every inch of their endlessly fascinating bodies, were some of the critical pieces that were formerly missing from my anatomical understanding falling into place.

Having first observed Cindy doing it, I now noticed Bea also picking her way carefully along the path. Naked and barefoot just like her little sister, she always made sure her light and dainty steps only landed on smooth, packed earth or soft grass.

Even Mary, though dragging the travois behind her did not give her the luxury of deviating too much from the middle of the path, went out of her way to step over gnarled tree roots and any jagged, exposed rocks she encountered. I was the only one, thanks to my sure-footed hiking boots, who didn't have to think too much about where my next step was going to land.

The trail was as well-marked and easy as Mr. Frank had promised it would be, and we had no trouble keeping to it. The only surprise came about twenty minutes into the hike when a distinct rustling sound spooked the girls.

It was clearly coming from somewhere ahead of us down the trail. As it grew louder, Cindy scurried over to stand closer to me. Bea's eyes also went wide. It could have been a dangerous, bloodthirsty animal for all they knew. Unfortunately for them, it was much, much worse than that. Before he even appeared, I guessed it was the neighbor Mr. Frank had told me about - the one who had delivered our firewood earlier that morning and was on his way back home. But because that conversation had occurred in the truck during our ride to the trailhead, the girls were not expecting to encounter anyone out here and were caught by surprise.

Spotting the figure emerging through the trees at the next curve, Cindy squealed and dove behind me. I was the only form of protection around. Bea also reacted at once. Adopting the classic embarrassed naked girl pose, she partially used me as cover and rushed to protect her exposed privates. Mary…froze.

I can understand how unexpectedly encountering three naked teen girls while out on a hike can stagger a person. The boy’s steps faltered and he came to a stop some distance away. When I raised my hand and waved to show that our harmless group was the opposite of a threat and that that it was ok to come closer, he hefted the object he was dragging and resumed walking.

I wracked my brain as he approached, trying to remember the name Mr. Frank had mentioned. But I got distracted when Mary made a pitiful wail into her bit. I turned to check on her. Just like her sisters, her first instinct had been to shy away from the stranger and summon whatever modesty she could before he got close enough to witness her every detail. Staring him down, she began to huff and strain against her bonds. Experience wearing Percy's bridle harness should have taught her that struggling is a waste of time. But that didn't stop her, in a state of growing panic, from trying to break free.

He grew in stature the closer he came up the path. Soon, it became apparent that this little neighbor boy was hardly a boy and anything but little! He was around Mary's age by appearance, or maybe a little older, well-built, and ruggedly handsome; all facts which she obviously noticed.

I removed my rucksack and set it on the ground but continued holding the lead rope running out from Mary's mouth. When I stepped forward to meet him, the rope went taut and she had no choice but to come with me. With a whine, she took a couple reluctant steps forward. But her worried eyes remained locked onto the surprise stranger coming ever closer.

Naked and exposed, she strained her neck and shrugged her shoulders over and over; anything to gain some semblance of decency before being introduced to this handsome boy. But alas, it was not to be. She was caught in an unyielding embrace and would remain that way until someone tilted the critical ring between her shoulder blades that was holding all the knots fast. By the time he reached us, the poor thing was no less bound than she had started and no less exposed.

"Howdy," I said, offering my free hand to shake, "you must be...Mr. Fleemer's neighbor."

But the boy didn't hear a word I said. He was too busy wrestling with his conscience - fighting a battle between averting his gaze and desperately wanting to look at my stepsister. Either way, I wasn't getting any attention. I couldn't compete with the spectacular exhibition of a naked and bound Mary Jane Conyor. I could only roll with the distraction and try to be polite.

"I'm Frankie," I said in introduction, "and this here's Mare. It's ok. She's tame." Mary's eyes bulged when I retreated back to her sisters and left her behind. Having been using only their hands to cover themselves, Bea and Cindy were happy to have me rejoin them and give them something to once again hide behind.

Mary would have definitely joined them. But with the travois she was dragging wedged in the dirt behind her, she couldn't take even a small step backward. She was stuck in the one place she dreaded the most: alone and in the spotlight.

Since my introduction essentially gave him an excuse to look at her, the young man glanced up to find utter mortification on Mary's face. She flexed her jaw like she wanted to say something - maybe explain that her name really wasn't "Mare", or to politely ask him to look away given her awkward state of disposition - but the coarse knot wedged between her teeth and the leather bit drawing her plump, kissable lips back made any such communication impossible. She could only stare dumbly at him while this lucky boy acquainted himself with everything her spectacular, naked body had to show him.

Once his eyes had inevitably started to roll downward, it didn't take them long to find something that especially piqued his interest. When she felt his gaze lock onto her magnificent chest, she shrugged her shoulders uselessly again and flexed her insufficient biceps against the ropes - like that was going to make any difference.

With her elbows bound together and her shoulder blades drawn back, her broad chest was thrust out as far as it could go. Bent slightly at the waist, her ripe, round orbs hung majestically in the air in front of her. She was usually so modest that, before this trip, she would have simply died if someone caught even a glimpse of one of her precious nipples. But now, perky and pink and perfectly round, they pointed straight at the salivating young man. Begging him to look.

As his gaze drifted lower, she sucked in her tummy. But that only drew more attention to her cute little belly button. Indented and just the slightest bit elongated, it was expertly positioned between the bottom of her oversized breasts and the start of her pelvis. A nice way to break up an otherwise flawless stretch of trim torso. Having her arms tucked out of sight behind accentuated her hourglass figure even more than usual.

His eyes drifted lower, past the universal symbol of love that had been neatly trimmed onto her pubic hair, to gaze in wonder at the bare, blushing peach nestled between her flexing thighs. Her widened hips and naturally toned physique did her no favors when it came to avoiding a thigh gap or keeping the alluring petals of her bare sex concealed. He was clearly smitten. Seeing that we would be here all day if I didn't intervene, I admonished the two girls who could talk but were just being shy.

"Don't be rude, ladies, tell him who you are."

Bea and Cindy looked at each other, then at their older sister. Being asked to introduce yourself to a teenage boy when you aren't wearing any clothes was hard enough. But Mary was a good reminder that things could be worse.

"Beatrice Rose Conyor," came a trembling voice. She peeked out from behind me just far enough for the cute boy to see her face and a hand waving but not so far that he could see any more of her naked body than necessary, "p-pleased to make your acquaintance."

"And I'm Cynthia Sue Conyor," said Cindy as she boldly stepped up to stand beside me. She may be naked, but she was also too socially sensitive to be impolite. Keeping one hand firmly over her lolly, she snaked her other arm through my elbow - a signaling of her loyalties.

"...sorry, uhhh, Henry," he eventually said, snapping out of his leering stupor and finally remembering his manners. Better late than never. "Henry Harper. It's nice to meet you, Frankie."

Nodding politely to my sisters one at a time, he added, "Cynthia, Beatrice...Mare."

Mary's eyes bulged and her face turned redder than I had ever seen it. Rendered mute by her bit, she couldn't speak to correct him or tell him her real name. But even worse, trapped in place with her arms bound out of the way, she couldn't cover an inch of her blossoming body. Her humiliation mounting, I practically saw her flight instincts kicking in as she cast a harried glance toward the tree line. She couldn't stand there any longer and endure the indignity of being introduced and addressed as a beast of burden rather than the respectable and demure young lady she meant to be.

But she if she did make a run for it, she wouldn't get far dragging the travois through the underbrush. And even if she wasn't lashed to it, I was still holding the lead rope of her nefarious harness. Working the thick knot between her lips with her teeth pulled back into a manic, forced smile, she flexed her hands into a ball and fought an overwhelming compulsion to struggle for freedom. It wouldn't free her, of course, and she knew it. Struggling would only treat Henry to a jiggling display of her ripe, round assets.

Winning the battle to remain still, she just barely preserved what little dignity she still had. But to what end? With every curve of her stunning teenage body laid bare before Henry, she still served as a monument to fertility and the ultimate object of his lust.

While he was watching the blush spread down Mary's neck and onto her fair chest, I asked him about the drag-sled he had been pulling which was empty. When I hazarded a guess that he had used it to deliver the firewood, he unslung the rope from over his broad, capable shoulders and finally shook my hand.

He carried himself with a sure step and the rippling physique of country folk who aren't afraid to work hard for a living. I could see objectively why Mary would find such a strapping young man attractive. Speaking of Mary, as soon as our handshake was done, he went right back to drinking in the erotic sight spread out before him.

I could see the unease in the way she shuffled silently while us men conversed casually. She was anxious for this humiliating encounter to end. But unable to flee or even set her sled down because I had lashed it to her hands and harness, the naked teen just had to stand there impatiently until the end of our conversation.

Henry confirmed that he had delivered the firewood Mr. Fleemer ordered and was now on his way back home. As an extra favor, he had checked the trail to ease our travels - warning about some brambles ahead. I was somewhat confident in my path-finding skills, but I got out my map anyway and asked him to take a look just to be safe. And I was glad I did. The original map I had copied from was outdated and he wasn't so sure I would be able to find some of the landmarks. But overall, he declared it a fine map and said we should have no trouble reaching the campsite, as long as we kept due west didn't veer too far from the trail.

Our business concluded, I thanked him heartily and hefted my rucksack. I could tell he had questions running through his mind. Why were all three of my female hiking companions buck naked? Why was the oldest of them tied up such that every one of her impressive assets was on full display. Why was she attached to the travois, and why was I leading her around by her mouth like a mere pack animal?

I would have happily answered any of those questions. I had nothing to hide. But he never asked, and I didn't feel it necessary to explain.

When I bid him adieu and tugged on her lead rope, Mary let out a whine of protest. But because putting up a fight that she knew she would lose would be more embarrassing than going along with it, the naked mare reluctantly leaned forward and, with a strained grunt, got the travois moving again. Henry drew his sled up to clear the way and looked on in fascination and awe as she paraded past. He kept his eyes peeled on three cute backsides walking away from him until we had disappeared around the next corner. Something told me he would remember that encounter for the rest of his life.

[Somebody]

This is the kind of thing that inspires bawdy folk songs.

[student]

Another fine chapter provided to us...

[Freesub]

I'm sure the lads will never believe it when he tells em this tale

[XboxPoptart]

Fantastic as always

[Skylar21]

Outstanding!

[gunairre]

Why would they give out their full government name, outstanding story nonetheless

[Somebody]

Why would they give out their full government name, outstanding story nonetheless

I feel like people used to be a lot more formal with that stuff. In fact I seem to recall a transitionary period around the time Full House was airing, where it started to feel really weird how they consistently used full names. We were becoming more informal.

[neverdoubted]

I'm sure they thought of their names as given by their parents, not the government. And introduction situations are much more informal now.