(Prelude: Hello readers. I apologise profusely for the tardiness of the latest parts of, "Lydia's Service." The pandemic continues to affect all of us in some way or other. For this reason, have decided to publish the first section of Part 6 as Chapter 1. I had intended to write, edit and publish Part 6 as one whole story, but life got in the way. The second chapter is in progress and I hope that you enjoy this trip back in time.)
I suppose now would be a good time to explore where my late-in-life sexual interests started.
To explain I have to take you back to 1973 when my Sister was 19, and I was a 21 year old medical student with my head stuck in a book.
The earliest part of this chapter was a chance conversation, and one that did not even include me nor concern me at the time.
The lecturer in charge of our group project was leaning back on his stool, his shoulders resting on the blackboard while one of his colleagues stood, smoking a cigarette and leaning against the solid wooden desk.
Smoking man had bought himself a brand new Ford Capri. Sitting lecturer had a Vauxhall Victor. Both were evidently very pleased with their cars, listing their virtues and answering each other's questions. The point that stuck in my mind as clearly as a well placed TV advert was the issue of security with regard to the new Capri.
"It's a bloody joke, I tell you. In this day and age, that you can not only get into a brand new Ford with a nail file, you can start the bloody car up, too!"
Sitting lecturer shook his head,
"Yeah for all Ford's virtues, the fact that you could come out of the pub to find it gone, well that really lets the side down."
"Too bloody right it does I just hope that not many car thieves carry a nail file with them."
"Well if it's any consolation, your brand spanking Capri will have been nicked by a well manicured thief!"
That was it. A generally useless snippet of information that I was destined to carry with me for life, and which would have serious implications very shortly after hearing it.
My Sister is Cecilia, but all her life everyone has called her Sissy. She was the pretty one, and still is.. I must have mentioned that before. I was the plump one. Sissy's figure and features came from our Mother's side.
Back then, she was petite, and a slim size six with pert B cup breasts, gorgeous legs and naturally blond. long hair..
I was shorter, and my figure was best described as an hour glass that someone had sat on and squashed! I was short, had huge hips, thick thighs, a plump waist but a waist nonetheless, and mousey brown hair that just hung straight. Oh, and possibly the feature most noticed at the time, a pair of full, firm F cup breasts.
I was two years old when Sissy was born. That was when my parents realized that they were not going to have the boy that they really wanted, but now had a baby girl who was actually pretty and feminine, They decided to push me into educating myself in a male dominated environment, as if to prove something.
My Sister would get by on being pretty. In reality she has. Pretty and gullible, and the number of times I have had to play the diplomat and sort out her life are too many to mention.
It was dark. Just dark in fact, on a warm, Friday night in June 1972. Sissy was 19 and needed to be collected from a discotheque. Although technically an adult for over a year, my parents knew that she could not be trusted. I knew, and frankly, she knew, too.
The disco was one primarily for teenagers, so no alcohol and an early curfew. Even Sissy would find it difficult to get into trouble at such an event. Difficult but not impossible!
Our parents, bless them, held a view that as long as I was with her, they trusted us both. We could be gone all night together and they would not have been concerned.
Sissy was in her usual state when I collected her, another world entirely.
"Don't tell Mum and Dad,"
Sissy spoke that sentence as though I should know exactly what she was referring to.
"Don't tell them what?"
"About the boys."
I shouldn't have been surprised. Whatever it was it involved boys, and probably the sort of boys that Mothers warn their Daughters about.
I didn't need to delve any further into details as the boys in question, six of them, made themselves known very quickly.
"Oi Sissy, wait up!"
I recognized the voice and the boy himself. Kevin Parrish. The Parrish family were large and well known in the small town we lived in. Kevin was the same age as me, so hardly a boy really. The others were a year or so younger, and aside from John Pendleton, a year older than Kevin, and also from a notorious family, I didn't really recognize them.
I should point out that we did not live in central Brighton at this time. We were a few miles West along the South coast of England at the time.
The boys surrounded us.
"Who's this, Sissy, your Mother?"
"You know who I am, Kevin, and I know you."
"She's right lads, Porky Pig here is Sissy's fucking Sister, believe it or not!"
One of the young men aped Porky Pig's catchphrase, badly,
"That, that'ssss all folks!"
I held Sissy's hand and made to break through the group of boys, but Sissy stood her ground.
"No, Lydia, they're my friends I want to hang with them a little while longer."
John Pendleton spoke now,
"Yeah, Lydia, what's your hurry.?Your supper will still be warm when you get back."
They laughed, and John grabbed my arm.
"So why don't you hang with us too, Lydia. You might have some fun, you never know. It won't kill you."
I sensed the danger, dropped Sissy's hand and pushed my way through the group.
Kevin Parrish grabbed my arm.
"Leave now and your Sister gets it!"
The threat was no more specific than that.
"And if I stay?"
Kevin laughed,
"Well you never know you might even enjoy yourself. We're only off to the rec' to have some beers and a smoke."
The rec' was a large recreation ground not far away from where we were. It was well lit, and, at this time of night, frequented by young adults doing exactly what Kevin had said, smoking cigarettes and drinking tins and bottles of beer. Against my better judgement, I rejoined Sissy and walked with the boys to the rec'.
Their chosen part of the rec' was an area in a small courtyard in front of a few concrete built garages that housed council maintenance equipment, ride-on mowers and large generators among other things. The area was well lit, not overlooked, and fairly impenetrable once the side gate was latched
Upon arrival we were joined by four more young men, one of whom was Kevin's younger brother, and another boy our age called Baz (Barry) but whose surname I had forgotten. Out of the shadows walked Kevin's older brother, Les and his friend of the same age, Sam Harrison. Both worked at the docks and were well built.
We were effectively trapped in the courtyard, surrounded by these twelve young men. Beer in hand, and lit cigarettes, their confidence appeared to grow.
John Pendleton engaged the group with this statement,
"Well I can't believe that this one is Sissy's Sister. They look fuck all alike."
An unknown young man spoke,
"She ain't got as much going for her as Sissy here. I'd need a few more drinks before I tackled this one!"
The group laughed. Sissy was drinking a can of beer and sniggered nervously.
Kevin Parrish chipped in,
"I call her Porky after Porky Pig."
Although unnecessary, he felt the need to explain,
"Because she's fat, like."
Les Parrish pretended to be shocked. He walked over to where I stood. Sam Harrison joined him. They stood either side of me, imposingly.
"That's no way to speak about your invited guest and our entertainment, young Kevin."
The comment about entertainment was probably bait. I took it anyway and asked,
"What do you mean by entertainment?"
"You had better ask your Sister. She arranged it."
I looked at Sissy, who was mentally trying to hide. She had been given a bottle of beer and took a large swig before finding her voice.
"I'm sorry Lydia, I couldn't say no. They asked me to get you here to show them your tits. I promise that's all they want then we'll both be OK.
I was shocked, stunned and not a little terrified.
"OK for what, Sissy?"
"To hang out, you know, and like they will look after us."
As if trying to make it better, she added,
"I showed them mine."
Les was smirking,
"So there you have it, Lydia, or would you prefer to be called Porky?"
"Lydia is just fine thank you."
"OK, Porky it is, then. What are you planning? Just whipping them out, or do you have some sort of striptease routine in mind?"
I moved to walk away again. My intention to leave was thwarted by Sam Harrison grabbing my arm this time.
"I wouldn't be going and leaving your Sister alone with us if I were you!"
I nodded my agreement and he let my arm go.
I stood my ground and folded my arms, determined not to bend to their will,
"I'm not going to do this. I know that's not what you want to hear, but you can threaten me all you want, it is not happening!"
Les leaned in closer to me and whispered in my ear,
"We can help if it makes it easier. I can only speak for myself though and say its much better when they strip rather than be stripped."
I was mortified and terrified. I had never even worn a bathing costume in public. The realization dawned heavily that I would probably have to go through with it in some form or other.
I unfolded my arms. My hands were shaking, and my bottom lip quivered. I was close to bursting into tears. I was determined not to give them the satisfaction of seeing that.
Les smiled and stroked my back. I shrugged almost voluntarily, not relishing the contact, though it wasn't altogether unpleasant. He walked his fingers up my spine to my neck. I bent my head forward, relaxing a little.
Les pulled out my hair tie, letting my hair hang loose. He put the elastic tie in his pocket and turned to face the group.
"So who is up for seeing her tits?"
The young men cheered and shouted their agreement.
"Well I don't know about you lads but I think she's been a bit uncooperative so far."
Nods and murmured agreements rang around the group.
"So her just flopping her tits out now, that's not really enough for me. I want to have a bit of a show from her."
The agreement was evident again from the cheers.
Les turned to me, but spoke loud enough for everyone there to hear.
"So, what you're going to do first is take that blouse off completely, then we'll set up the big reveal where you can whip off your bra, and drop those funbags right out in the open."
Sissy moved away, looking at me as if to say there was nothing she could do. There was not a lot I could do either, other than try to get away and put her in danger as a result.
Les and Sam moved away too and rejoined the group facing me.
I pushed back my hair. It was just over shoulder length, straight and brown, in a very boring style with no parting, no bangs, no style. I normally pulled it back in a ponytail to keep it out of the way. I played with my spectacles, nervously, my hands shaking and my fingers barely able to function.
I began unbuttoning my pale pink blouse as all their eyes focused upon me. The sipping and murmuring encouragement were the only sounds I heard. I reached the bottom button and shrugged the blouse off my shoulders. Kevin walked forward, grabbed it and held it.
I was wearing a slip. I started to pull the slip down over my shoulder but Les snarled at me,
"Can't you just pull that up over your head?"
"No, it's a full length slip so it is down to the bottom of my skirt."
