Synopsis:
The benevolent mega-corporation, DomCo, is making a better world for mankind. Young feminist, Sophie, just wants to do her part as a volunteer, in order to help her younger sister gain college credit. Will poor Sophie, herself, become the relief aid?
The Reluctant Suckslut, Part 1:
Staring dumbly at the ridiculous shirt being offered to her, Sophie considered backing out. Always one to support a helpful cause--she was a good, outspoken feminist, afterall--she'd reluctantly agreed to participate in the Relief Aid event at her sister's insistence. Like Sophie, Jessica was always ready to volunteer for a benevolent cause. While she didn't share the same feminist ideals as her older sister, Jessica could be counted on to show up for charity carwashes, band boosters, help the homeless church events, or even neighborhood trash clean-up days.
As the older sister, Sophie considered it a kind of familial duty to help her sister out when she asked. Jessica, to her credit, was endlessly grateful, and never took advantage. Today's event, though, had a special bonus for Jessica. Each volunteer she'd managed to wrangle for the event would net her extra credits toward her high school Senior Arts & Humanities project, which in turn earned her additional tuition assistance for college. Grudgingly, Sophie had agreed to be a volunteer.
"I hope you realize how much I love you." Sophie grumbled, taking the shirt from Jessica with disdain.
The tight, sleeveless tank top was bright white and nearly transparent. Scrawled across the chest in large red letters were the words, "Relief Aid," which Sophie was sure was thought up by some misogynistic asshole who was, doubtless, chuckling to himself at the double entendre. The tiny shorts that went with the shirt were skin tight and black. The ensemble gave her an inward shudder as she thought about Hooters girls. It was revolting.
"I know you do," Jessica replied, gratitude apparent in her voice, "just remember it's for a good cause. Besides, you can rest on your moral superiority, while watching a bunch of drunken barbarians debase themselves like animals, knowing that you rise above all that nonsense," her eyes brightened, and she smiled, continuing, "and, you'll be showing that you're not ashamed of your femininity! You're using your natural womanhood to serve a higher purpose!"
Sophie laughed, despite herself. She didn't agree, but she appreciated her little sister trying to put a positive spin on the embarrassing outfit. She took the skimpy clothes from Jessica, and went to dress.
By 9:00, Jessica pulled her car into the volunteer parking area at Relief Aid. The event was essentially an all-day concert and fair that sprawled across the local fairgrounds. Dozens of bands across as many genres of music would be performing throughout the day and into the night. The volunteers would be manning concession stands, stocking supplies, picking up trash, selling souvenirs, and any other number of menial tasks. The proceeds for the event went to a number of different causes that Sophie was actually passionate about.
Sophie scanned the literature from the event's corporate sponsor, DomCo. What a stupid name, she thought. Still, the list of causes where the funds were going was heartening. Female empowerment groups. Women's education programs. Sustainable housing for underprivileged women. Corporate jobs for women. Maybe DomCo wasn't so bad. They just had a stupid name.
Sophie and Jessica left the car, both girls catching the eyes of all the men as they made their way to the volunteer check-in. Their mother's Latin heritage was apparent in both girls. They shared the same long, black hair. Jessica had left hers loose, while Sophie had opted to put hers into a long braid. The tight black shorts hugged their generous, bubble butts, which jiggled enticingly as they walked, and their light brown skin was maddeningly on display in their toned legs. Sophie, a little older, and a little taller, sported a killer set of boobs that shook with each step, even encased in her bra. Jessica's B cups couldn't really compare with her sister's double D's, but on her slim, short frame they looked exquisite. The tight tank tops molded to the girls like a second skin. Sophie, with her big tits, looked like the definition of a sex object.
She felt a bit nervous, knowing that she would be exposing herself like this all day with a crowd of drunken, horny men devouring her with their eyes. When she saw the copious amounts of burly men in shirts that read, "Security," though, she felt better. The event, it appeared, was well-coordinated. Jessica had gotten a bit ahead of her as Sophie had paused to look about, and when she caught up she found her sister chatting with a small group of friends who she had, also, convinced to volunteer for the day. Soon, the little group was checked in, and they waited in a holding area until the staff finished with the other straggling volunteers.
Once everyone had checked in, the staff began to hand out assignments. Jessica was assigned to a concession stand. Her friends had gotten trash duty, or souvenir detail. Sophie found herself assigned to a relief tent. The staff member in charge of her assignment explained that there were a number of relief tents around the fairgrounds. It was a long event, and there would be people freely drinking alcohol and eating crappy fair food. The relief tents were cool-off zones, where people could get out of the sun, lie down, and recuperate.
Sophie was, essentially, a glorified towel girl. She could offer them water or sports drinks to refresh electrolytes, give them cold towels, and dispense over the counter medications, such as pain relievers, allergy medication, or stomach relievers. As long as they signed a waiver, which she would file for the company's records. Given the nature of the other work the volunteers were doing, this sounded like a great job. She was led to her tent.
On the way, she took in the variety of booths set up by DomCo. They passed several career booths. Sophie felt strange as she saw the kind of "jobs for underprivileged women" that DomCo was helpfully offering assistance with. Cleaning services. Escort services. Modeling. Adult entertainment. Stripping. Pole dancing instructor. Another booth offered free "safe sex" education courses. On one poster, an attractive blonde bimbo with her posterior jutting out provocatively held one finger over her anus, while a look of mock surprise showed on her face. Another poster showed a stupified redhead holding an oversized condom in her hand. Sophie thought she could see a suspicious white drop at the corner of the girl's mouth, but she didn't have time to stop to scrutinize the poster.
Inwardly she scoffed at the ridiculous size of the condom on the poster. Real penises were never that big. While she was a feminist, she wasn't a man-hater. She'd had a few boyfriends, and even let one guy go all the way with her. That experience was, ultimately, what led her down the feminist path. Randy (aptly named) had been a real pig in bed, where he'd treated her like nothing more than a set of warm holes for his angry penis. That was years ago, when she'd been 18 and stupid. Even so, his penis was nowhere near big enough to need a condom that size. It was clearly for shock value. Fucking marketing.
Outside, the day was already warming up. Inside, the tent was cooler, with the pleasant hum of fans circulating the air. The interior made her think of some kind of field hospital. The long tent was partitioned all down the length. Each partitioned area held a small cot, where sun-beaten drunks could take a rest. At the back, was a large partitioned area, which held a file box, coolers filled with bottled water and sports drinks, small snacks for people suffering from low blood sugar, and some basic over-the-counter medications. The volunteer coordinator left her alone in the tent.
As the morning progressed, Sophie idly played with her phone. Her tent was on the furthest edges of the fairgrounds, so it remained fairly quiet as morning turned into afternoon. The few people that had stopped in generally asked for something for a headache, or just wanted to get a free bottle of water instead of coughing up a ridiculous sum for a soft drink at the concession stands. When the people that stopped in were female, they generally gave her a look of disgust, assuming she was just some big-titted bimbo.
They didn't even consider that there was a real person with thoughts and feelings attached to those magnificent mountains of jiggling flesh. If they were male, they ogled her tits, legs, and ass. Again, they never stopped to think that there was a human being with real emotions and goals beneath the skimpy outfit. Like all men, she was just a pleasing visual image that they would go home and beat their dicks off to later tonight, or think of while they stuck their scraggly penises into their fat, comely wives or girlfriends. The thought of those drunken animals using her for their masturbatory fantasies made her want to vomit.
Sophie knew that men, in general, weren't dogs or pigs. They were obeying a biological function that urged them to breed. They couldn't help that chemistry in their brains made their penises hard, and when that happened it was difficult to override the instinct to put their hard penis into a warm hole until it ejaculated. She understood this, but that didn't mean that some men weren't just brutes.
While scrolling through an article about self-empowerment, Sophie heard the tent flap rustle. She looked up, and a towering man ducked in through the flap, wiping his brow. He wore a cut-off tee that read, "My name is Buck, and I'm here to fuck". Speaking of brutes, she thought. The man teetered a bit. Sophie was sure that he'd been pounding back beer all morning.
"Ya got a place ta lie down a spell?" The man slurred.
"Sure," Sophie said, scanning the empty tent, "Just pick anywhere you like."
The man took a cot, which groaned under his considerable size, and lay back.
