The Nude Waitress 05

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.

It was enough that they felt they could move on to the real reason they were in my house.

"G... go ahead and sit down," laughed Jessica.

I bent over, mooning them, as I picked up my robe. I was all covered in perspiration and didn't want my sweaty ass on the upholstered chair. I had forgotten myself for a second, but the clicking sound of another picture being taken of me like that was a quick reminder. I stood up fast and started to place the robe on the chair to protect it.

"What do you think you are doing?" said Jessica.

"I'm, protecting the cushion," I said honestly.

"Uh uh. Leave it on the floor."

She had a wicked look on her face.

Resentfully I dropped the robe to the floor and sat down in the big chair. I had paid a lot for it and had always prohibited kids, and adults with food or drink from sitting on it. Now, I had my sweaty bottom right smack in the same spot.

Jessica looked at me sitting there with my legs crossed and sort of frowned.

"What?" I said.

Jessica looked at Candace who smiled back at her.

"What do you think Candy? Does she look quite right sitting like that?"

"Now that you mention it, I don't think she does," said Candace.

Jessica looked back at me like she was working out a confounding problem. Then her eyes widened and she snapped her fingers.

"I know," she said. "It's the way you are sitting. It's just a little too ladylike for you now. Don't you think so, Candy."

"Oh yeah," said Candace. "She's too prim. Doesn't really fit the new Renee."

"Uhhhhhhh, why don't you..." Jessica tilted her head to the side. "Go ahead and uncross those legs and uh, I know, drape each one over the arm of the chair. I'm guessing that thing needs a little air to cool it off anyway after all the action it has gotten lately."

She pointed in the general direction of my pussy. So they managed another insult and they were going to tell me what horrible task they had in mind while I sat there with my vagina on display to them. I was beyond defending myself now and just went ahead and lifted one leg and hooked ,y knee over the arm rest. Then feeling a gush of cool air I lifted and hooked the other. I might as well have been on a gynecologist's table.

Without the slightest warning, Candace held up her iPhone and clicked a picture. Jessica leaned over to look and they both cracked up.

"Wow, Renee, you are so..." she started.

"Photogenic," finished Jessica.

That seemed to give them an idea and they leaned in close in whispered conference.

When they had come to a decision they sat back and Jessica said innocently, "Hey uh, go ahead and rub your pussy."

Candace held up her phone and hit video.

"Oh come on," I complained.

"Now, now," admonished Candace.

"And no faking it," said Jessica. "You have to make all the way to big fat O town."

I couldn't believe it. These idiots were going to make me masturbate like this for them. It was bad enough having to do that, but with my knees draped over the arms of the chair, it was going to be so fucking explicit, such a horrible anatomically detailed invasion of my most private act.

Still, I knew there was no denying them. With a combined sense of self-loathing and outright hatred for them, I closed my eyes and began to rub. As I did I reached up and plucked a nipple with one hand. Like a charm, the sudden slick expression coated my lips and was followed instantly by the emergence of my pearly pink clitoris from under its little hood.

"Holy shit," said Candace.

I tried to ignore her as my pussy was now verifiably wet. I worked my fingers around my pearl and the petted it up and down softly before sighing and licking my lips. Then I began the firmer rubbery circular massage that did it for me every time.

I began to move and my hips rocked slightly as my thighs tensed and other muscles of my legs and pelvic are contracted and relaxed. For the two women watching me it was full on live action porn.

"Good grief," laughed Jessica.

I tried not to let that even register. I had to get off and we all knew I didn't dare fake. My fingers began a seriously rhythmic strumming.

"Oh god," I sighed.

Then, a second later, I gritted my teeth and bore down as the surge that would ultimately break like a crashing wave of pleasure began its inevitable build up. My eyelids began to flutter and both sets of lips parted as I opened up like a flower to express a pure, intense orgasmic ride.

I rode it out until time, who knew how long, had passed, and I started to come back to the consciousness of what I had shown those two assholes that were grinning with satisfaction at my recent performance.

That was almost the worst part.

"Okay, well... my goodness," chuckled Jessica stopping the recording.

Then abruptly as if our new positions in the new order of things had been adequately enforced, she was suddenly all business.

"So... I don't know if you remember, I mean you are sort of blonde," she smirked looking form my face to directly at my dark bush. "Well, not entirely, huh? Anyway we have been negotiating a new deal for the homeowners' association and the maintenance on the golf course. In the past Debbie Farrell's parents' company had agreed to do it, as part of their own homeowner's fee forgiveness."

"We never had to pay," chimed Candace.

"Yeah well, her parents retired and Deb owns the company now. And well, we have it on good authority that she is planning on selling her parents' house so she is going to start charging us."

I just looked at them, more distracted by the chilling breeze across my inner lips than anything else.

"So we need someone to convince Deb to not charge the HOA."

I didn't understand at first, but it was obvious that something was expected of me. Jessica's face seemed to toy with the idea of a smile, as if she had some delicious secret she was about to disclose. Then she leaned forward.

"You don't remember us talking about Deb, back in college?"

"No," I said.

She smiled at Candace who grinned back.

"Uhhhhh Deb was uhhh, in our sorority. Kinda infamous for being a spoiled brat."

"Yeah," said Candace.

"She was also the first girl to have an Ellen moment," grinned Jessica. "In fact, she kind of came out, when she was found with a new pledge who was, uh, what was the term?"

She looked at Candace.

"Pledging her hairy pussy," laughed Candace.

The look on my face was a mix of dread, revulsion and disbelief.

"Yeah, hairy being the operative word. In fact, her unofficial sorority nickname was "Mink" and not because she bought a coat," said Jessica.

"No, she grew her own," chortled Candace.

At that they both burst out laughing again.

"But I'm not gay!" I said.

That just brought on more laughter.

"Neither was the pledge," said Jessica finally.

"You don't have to be gay to lick a pussy, you fool," said Candace.

"You just go to bed with her and do whatever she wants... for as long as she wants."

The way Jessica said it was so matter of fact, so direct that it was clear without another word. I was going to have to fuck Deb. My expression just then said exactly what I thought of that. As if reading my mind, Jessica frowned and started in again.

"Now listen. You like this fancy house, and you get to stay in it with your little family, minus of course your embezzling jailbird husband, and all we require is that you work off the deal like YOU agreed to. Suck and fuck, show that plastic surgery of yours off when we say so and where we say so. And now, you are going to rock a lesbian's world or... you are out."

They stood up just then and texted something as I remained splayed, legs wide... in the chair. Then they started for the door, but at the last second Jessica craned her neck and frowned. Then she leaned down with her face not even a foot from my pussy.

"Uh, hon, uh, two things.," she said almost condescendingly. "If you are going to have a protest conversation about you going girl-girl then maybe you should try and not let your pussy get so wet, oh and I think I see a little stubble so...maybe clean that nasty thing up before you see De... or before she sees IT? Huh?"

It was a lie. It wasn't the lesbianism that had me wet. It was the new phenomenon of humiliation making me respond. So much lately had tied my reactions to degradation and helplessness that I was a mix of a physical response and mental revulsion all at once.

They both chuckled, all satisfied with themselves and strolled toward the door as I lifted both legs and closed them protectively. I almost doubled over then, in a tight ball of anger, shame and self-recrimination as the door closed behind them.

A few days later as I walked in to the "ladies get together" at Jessica's, I realized it was only going to get worse.

Deb Farrell was exactly what I would have predicted a power lesbian would look like. Taller than me, about 5-8, and boxy-built, around 145-150, she was partial to the jeans and suit jackets with a stylish blouse that she wore. She had jet black hair in a spiky, short haircut, brown eyes and an olive complexion. The social function that they had set up involved Jessica, Candace a few of the other women from our housing edition that had gone to the same sorority. The only outsider was myself. On the surface it looked like your standard lady's casual, but I knew it was essentially a wooing and a set-up.