This is the continuation from #4 and is the first part of the story of my next task. Since it was so long, I had to break it up. I have finished it as well and will post it in the next few days.
***
With Ben safely out of my house and after a shower that could have gone on all day and not quite made me feel clean, I was left with the awful anticipation of what Jessica and Candace had lined up. I mean it wasn't like I could refuse, and it was the last of the five tasks that I had contractually agreed to, but still, my intuition or maybe just my experience and knowledge of the way their thought process, had me very uncomfortable.
Ben might be a horny clod, an equally infantile, patriarchal idiot when it came to sex and making me do things, but Jessica and Candace? Those two monsters, I knew, were in a whole different league when it came to humiliating imaginings. I thought back to how they had been the ones to drop the napkin when I waitressed nude so that I would have to bend over and show my most private area to the whole crowd. Now, they were going to have complete control. It really didn't matter what was expected, what they had in mind for me, we all knew I would not be able to refuse.
I shivered slightly, and not just because the air conditioner came on and I was still nude.
In a sad way I almost wanted to get it over with, so I picked up my phone and was about to dial Jessica when I saw the text from her waiting to be read.
"We are on our way over. Put on a robe."
"How did they know I was naked?" I wondered.
Then I realized. Ben. Obviously they had conversed with him already. I walked into the bathroom and pull on a white terry-cloth robe and picked up the hair dryer. If I was going to have to face those two bitches, I wasn't going to do it, looking my worst.
That may sound odd, that I cared about looking attractive, but if you aren't a woman there is no way you can understand. They had always been inferior to me in the social, looks, and status departments. It was, in part, why they hated me so much and why they were having such a blast exerting their new found control, in making me crawl through the mud figuratively. Now they might have turned the tables and assumed superior roles relative to me in the social and status departments, but when it came to looks, I was still much more attractive than them.
I wasn't giving that up.
I dried my hair and styled it, applied my makeup in a tasteful and attractive way and took quick stock, just as the doorbell downstairs rang. With the robe on, it could have been the old me, from just a few months earlier, still a respected and regarded member of the community. I closed the robe a little higher around my neck and headed downstairs as the doorbell rang a second time.
It was chiming a third time by the time I answered it and - if only as a contrived excuse - Jessica and Candace wore looks that said I had subjected them to the ultimate dis by making them wait.
"Walking a little slow this morning?" asked Jessica snidely.
"Or just funny from the workout Ben gave that famous coochie of yours?" added Candace.
They both dissolved in a fit of giggles.
"Won't you come in," I said flatly, stepping back.
While there were a million comebacks on the tip of my tongue, and the flair of injured pride was dying for expression, I knew better that to be anything but deferential and polite. These two witches held the shreds of my remaining pride in their hands.
They strolled in and, with resentful looks on their faces, took in the tasteful furnishings and apportionments of my home. I might be hanging onto it by my manicured nails, but it still bespoke the difference in us in terms of style and taste. Off course that didn't help me at all. It only made things worse.
They sat down on my Italian silk upholstered sofa and looked at me. I was just starting to sit in a lounge chair opposite them when Jessica cleared her throat loudly. I stopped.
"Why don't you just stay standing," she said with an insultingly whimsical look on her face.
Candace smiled broadly.
"Okay," I said straightening back up.
"I saw the kids down the street at the park," she added.
Not good, I thought. I swallowed hard.
"So we can have some adult time."
Candace chuckled at that.
"What do you want?" I said a little to edgily, and though her fake smile never waivered, a cold cruel gleam showed in Jessica's eyes.
"I want you to take off that robe. We have something for you to do, but first we need to... critique a few things."
Candace still looked like she was having a ball, and they both sat waiting. I had no choice.
I reached down and untied the belt and the slipped the robe off my shoulders. I let go and the cloth dropped, pooling around my feet.
Just like that, I was standing full frontal in front of my two most hated nemeses, about to be, evaluated physically. Now if you know anything about women, it is that they carry a particularly extraordinary capacity for shaming one other, especially in relation to body and looks. I don't like that, but as much as we talk about supporting one another and defending each other, when it comes to cutting emotional damage, we are at times our own worst enemy. This was what I knew was coming now.
They looked me up and down with a completely snarky expression and then Candace bit her lower lip as if anticipating the punch line to an excellent joke.
"Jump," she said and immediately laughed out loud.
"What?" I asked incredulously.
"Yeah, do it," said Jessica and then insultingly, as if speaking to a complete moron, repeated the words only this time she dragged it out. "Jump... up... and... down... for us."
They sat back, overly happy with themselves.
It took me a second to realize they were completely serious. I hated them.
Then I jumped. It was so bad.
As you already know I have breast implants. Big ones, 32DD big. With that one jump, they rose and fell... heavily, banging against each other like a couple of huge nipple-crowned globes with minds of their own. The effect was ridiculous looking and anatomically outrageous to the point of being obscene. Apparently it was also hilarious, exactly what those two bitches were after.
They acted like they were attempting to stifle the guffaw and then just couldn't as I stood there...legs slightly apart, small dark muff showing over my obviously shaved labia, big knockers still moving. As I took a deep, humiliated breath, they broke up with gale after gale of laughter.
"Oh...my God... Don't stop!" sputtered Candace.
"Yeah, no one told you you could stop," added Jessica.
I had been through a lot of shame and debasement what with cake pop and the nude show for Arnie Hendershaw, the subservience to Ben Gossage, the waitressing and all, but in a way, having to act like some pathetic sorority pledge to these two assholes was uniquely bad.
I resumed hopping.
"Ohhh, yes. Now do jumping jacks."
Candace could barely get the words out between breathy chuckles.
I began the calisthenics. It was awful and uncomfortable to boot. When I go to the gym I usually have to wear two sports bras just to keep the girls under control. Doing this with nothing restraining them was like having two subcutaneous cantaloupes fighting it out up and down my ribcage. A couple of times they actually bumped under my chin. That was just how ridiculous it looked.
As for my belittling audience, they let it go on way too long. By the time they let me stop I was sweating and my makeup had take a huge hit. Even my hair was kind of wildly disheveled. I was panting and my tummy billowed slightly under my huge sagging sweaty boobs. In short I looked like a middle-aged, overly-augmented bimbo-mom who had been pushed to her physical limit.
Still catching my breath, I leaned forward and placed my palms on my knees. It just made my big knockers hang all the more outrageously.
"Oh yes, perfect," said Jessica. "That is just the position. Just...uh... turn around like that."
Candace almost brayed with laughter.
Obediently I turned and resumed the position. I knew what they were getting a look at. My shaved crotch. My perineum. My pussy, and asshole were completely bald. And worse I was sweaty and panting. It was the most humiliating inspection by my most hated acquaintances.
I didn't say a word. I just turned and held the pose and let them look. A second later I heard another giggle and looking back over my shoulder, I saw Jessica and Candace BOTH holding their cell phones up to take a pic.
"Smile," said Jessica snapping one.
I just stared, gobsmacked.
"I said, smile!" she repeated, only this time with a tone of insistence.
I forced myself to comply.
My face contorted into an approximation of something like pleasure, even though close inspection would show that the truth was in the strain around my eyes.
They didn't notice nor care and the cameras just clicked away unmercifully.
"Can you imagine what a cover this would make for the Junior League journal?" said Candace.
She was kidding, I knew, but it reinforced what kind of position I was in and what kind of pose as well. Plus, it not so subtly reiterated how limited my choices were. Either elect for private and semi-private humiliation or be globally shared via the web.
"Oh, might just be the first issue we sold out!" chuckled Jessica.
They had me. They knew it. I knew it. They could still take my home and with my husband's continued incarceration, there was no way I could hope to keep my kids and myself out of some low-rent, high-crime apartment complex, so I was theirs to mock and malign, to play with and to direct in whatever manner they wanted.
I was thinking about that when something I could not have anticipated in my worst and wildest degrading dreams, suddenly happened. Something, devastating and terrible. You see, normally one experiences some kind of build up to a sneeze. Normally you can at least try and suppress it. But sometimes, like right then, it just happens. The impulse is so undeniable and the trigger so fast, that you I just... sneezed.
It couldn't have happened at a worse moment. Candace had her phone on video and the a-c had just kicked on to deliver whatever allergen it was that I could not resist. In less than a second I reacted and sneezed intensely.
I have never seen my pudendum contract when I sneeze. I suppose no one, except for an exhibitionistic contortionist has, but apparently what goes on down there when you do sneeze is an impressive and stunning phenomenon. I can only imagine, but both Jessica and Candace will never have to. They saw.
It took almost 30 seconds for them to stop laughing enough to speak. It was a very long 30 seconds for me.
"Oh... My... God," said Candace, holding her sides.
"Okay, one thing we will give you. Despite all that fucking of Ben Gossage's big sausage, you still have some muscle tone down there!" howled Jessica.
I wanted to crawl under the rug and disappear.
