by Bridy McAvoy
“Good girl. Now hold your arms out a little while the guys do your legs.”
Her waist was on about the same level as the guy’s heads. They’d only have to bend slightly to put their faces on the same level as her pussy, with only the stretched fabric of the shorts covering it.
“Spread your feet a couple of feet apart, please, sweetie, so they can work on your inner thighs too.”
As she adjusted her position she watched the photographer’s faces. For the first time they could plainly see the complete handprints on her inner thighs and, from a couple of the sotto voce comments, she was exhibiting a camel toe too.
She tried not to close her eyes this time—she didn’t want to start another fantasy going, as the men started to smear and spread the gunk up onto her thighs, concentrating on the front of her legs, rather than the softer, more sensitive flesh of her inner thigh.
Even so their touch, light and strangely distorted by what they were covering her with, had an effect on her. Once more she found her arousal level increasing, despite the strange situation and the muck, and now gunk, covering her body, or at least parts of it. Her t-shirt was tenting out where her nipples protruded and she could feel her labia starting to swell against the tight fabric of the too-small shorts. The guys behind the cameras would be sure to have noticed although she couldn’t judge the angles they were holding their cameras at, nor the level of zoom they were using.
Brad and Phil worked diligently up the front of her legs until Chris swooped in for a careful spray of water, making sure not to spray water directly onto her skin. The liquid began to froth up, just as it had on her arms, but with them now working on a vertical rather than virtually horizontal surface it tricked down too. It didn’t feel like water in a shower as it seeped past her knees, it was too thick for that—if anything, it felt like shampoo running down her leg—neat, straight from the bottle. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation, but it wasn’t unpleasant either.
She shuddered as the hands moved ever higher up her legs, spreading the liquid around, and working up a lather. Steve and Andy pressed in closer, concentrating on her legs and capturing the contrast between her pale, only slightly tanned, skin—the grease marks, and the green gunk with its lather layer.
“Nice, very nice…but don’t forget her inner thighs, too. Let’s see you erase those handprints—all of the grease please.”
Since the fingertips of one of the marks came within half an inch of her crotch, this was the point Kayla had been dreading. Her skin was sensitive there, and the guys’ touch was light, almost caressing the stuff into her skin. Once they moved onto the sensitive areas she was going to have problems, big problems in terms of concealing just how much their ever moving fingers were turning her on.
Both men grabbed some more gunk on their hands, which were themselves well lathered now, and working in direct opposition to each other started to work on the inside of her legs. As one worked upward, the other one worked downward so, at any one time, one of them had his fingertips less than an inch from her crotch. Her legs started to tremble as she started to pant for breath, realizing the signs were there again for them all to see. The moment she or someone else exposed any part of her, or someone touched her there or on her breasts in public, she was off down the slippery slope toward an orgasm. She couldn’t prevent it, she couldn’t help herself.
“God!”
Chris chuckled.
“Enjoying that, are we?”
He picked up his squirty bottle again and moved closer. The guys moved their hands out of the way and Chris sprayed cold water in a mist on her inner thighs.
“Eek!”
He laughed and held the bottle up for her to see, then shook it so it rattled.
“Sorry, sweetie—switched the bottle on you, this one is iced!”
“Bastard!”
“Tut, tut, language, dear. Behave yourself.”
The shock of the cold water spraying on her thighs only made them more sensitive to what the two men were doing to her. In the background she could hear the clicking of the two cameras as Andy and Steve continued to shoot her degradation, but she was focussed entirely on what was happening with her legs as the men continued to work within such a short distance of her pussy.
The cameramen crowded even closer concentrating on the area between her knees and her crotch. Her legs trembled and she wanted to reach down and lean on something for support, but there wasn’t anything. The green gunk, mingled with tiny bubbles, leaked down her arms and dripped off her fingers onto the blanket-covered board she was standing on. The weakness in her legs grew worse and worse as the stroking and caressing pushed the fire in her pussy toward overload.
She closed her eyes before realizing once more this was a mistake. Her over-stimulated imagination began to put images of the men ripping the shorts down and plunging their fingers into her pussy while other phantom hands grabbed her breasts, the hands somehow exactly fitting the handprints the men had placed there earlier.
Kayla could hear a high pitched moaning sound and realized it came from her own lips as once more the onset of an orgasm took her.
“Hold her!”
Her legs would have given way if it wasn’t for the men acting together to grasp her legs with a vice-like grip and stop her falling. The orgasm rolled through and through her, and she tossed her head from side to side as the tremors hit and reverberated through her body.
“Lay her down, she can’t continue like this”, Chris stopped and chuckled…“and we haven’t really started yet!”
Phil and Brad gently guided her to first sit, and then lie, down close to the front edge of the improvised platform and she smiled her thanks to them, trying to force her body to relax. She gasped for breath and looked at Chris.
“Best one yet?”
She nodded.
He grinned at her, and turned to the others.
“Kinky little slut, isn’t she?”
Her mouth dropped open at the insult but the two men’s hands returned to her legs, resuming their caressing as the smeared the green gunk over them and she gasped at the renewed contact on such sensitive areas.
“It’s going to be harder to strip those shorts off her with her lying down so we’ll have to improvise. Kayla, would you roll over, please, and shuffle back toward the edge. You two—move round to where her feet are and shoot along the length of her—don’t forget to adjust for depth of field.”
The blanket was a bit rough on her skin but it was a lot better than the bare ply would have been, let alone the rough wood pallet! Kayla folded her arms under her head but tried not to get any of the green stuff on her hair.
She tried to relax knowing the super-tight shorts highlighted her buns which were sticking up into the air. In this position she couldn’t see any of the men and, until they touched her, she could almost blot out their existence—almost, but not quite.
“Phil, if you will do the honors.”
“Sure.”
She waited for the fingers to touch her at her waist to tug the shorts down but instead she felt cold metal at her hip and then the snipping sound as he used a pair of scissors to cut through the thick cotton.
Kayla gasped. This wasn’t what she’d been expecting, and Teri had promised her he wouldn’t cut her clothes off her again. There again, Teri wasn’t there and, given Phil had somehow had the scissors handy, Chris must have planned this. The shorts weren’t hers, and were ruined anyway. She forced herself to lie still as Phil cut from the leg band all the way up to the waistband, taking his time and making sure he didn’t stick her with the pointed ends of the scissors. He was probably enjoying the view too, as more and more of her butt was revealed by his actions. She forced herself to lie still as he completed that side, and then leaned over her to do the other side which parted; much easier given there was less tension in the fabric now.
She pictured how she must look—the ruined back of the shorts lying loosely on top of her otherwise naked ass, the two greasy handprin
ts, which up till then only Phil and Brad, the men who put them there, had seen peeking into view around them. She tried not to shudder knowing her position would make such a reaction completely visible to the watching men. She held still as fingers reached for the back of the shorts and then drew them down and away, revealing the full curves of her ass, complete with the handprints.
A couple of wolf-whistles sounded from behind her as the full extent of their literal handiwork, came into view.
“Damn. You got her good. Look at the way the skin is still red round the edges of the hands. Fantastic, you marked her ass…but good!”
She recognized Steve’s voice, the one who was always the crudest, and tried not to blush at the thought of what they were talking about—the fact her backside was still a little red and sore from the spank that had left the mark. She buried her face between her arms to hide her blush.
“Lift up slightly, sweetie, so we can get rid of them completely.”
Chris’s instruction made sense, especially as the shorts weren’t providing any real coverage so she did as he asked, wondering at his politeness after his harsher phrasing a couple of minutes earlier.
One of the two men dripped some of the cleanser onto the cheeks of her ass, but was at least careful not to drip it into the crack itself. She felt the platform shift a little as one of them climbed onto it and positioned himself to the side, obviously so they could both work on her. All four hands arrived on her ass at the same time, spreading the green liquid around and massaging in it into her skin. Just as it had when they’d worked on her thighs it felt wonderful, almost like a massage and for a few moments she allowed herself to luxuriate in the experience. She lifted her head and looked back to see it was Brad who had joined her on the platform. He was looking at her and gave her a shy smile—she couldn’t help smiling back.
“Hmm…You two could get a job in a massage parlour!”
All of the men laughed which gave her a reminder the other three were there watching these two manipulate her body, now naked from the waist down. At the moment they were working on her butt, but as soon as they’d completed that the instruction would be to roll over—of that she had no doubt. In the meantime, she laid her head back and indulged herself in the sensuous nature of their touch.
The hands left her and, she guessed correctly, that Chris was stepping in to spray his ice cold water on the naked cheeks of her ass.
“Eek!”
She squeaked rather than squealed when the water hit her and tensed her muscles resulting in a couple of whistles of approval from the area near her feet. Kayla forced herself to relax as the hands returned to their work, and she wondered what her ass looked like now that it was, hopefully, clean.
“Time to get her back sorted. Sorry, Kayla—I know you don’t like this bit, but the shirt has to go, so Phil is going to cut up the back but leave the sleeves on. I want the final effect of removing it to be after you’ve turned over, and I know you’ve been anticipating that bit.”
Slap!
A hand descended onto her ass, hitting smartly and the impact stung, amplified by the green fluid they’d spread around on her.
“Ow!”
“Before you move on, guys, wipe some of the stuff off with this.”
She felt a soft towel descend, and then gently rub on her ass and knew Brad was following Chris’s orders and removing some of the gunk from her. The towel travelled purposely over her ass and then down onto her thighs.
She felt the cold steel of the scissors touch her in the small of the back as Phil started to cut up the middle of the back of the t-shirt. She sucked in a deep breath and tried not to move, not wanting any kind of accidental cut, especially with all the muck still coating her upper body.
“Spread your legs, sweetie, so Brad can get some of the stuff off the inside of your legs.”
With her head on her arms she was grateful Chris couldn’t see her biting her lip. She knew opening her legs would expose her slit to the view of everyone behind her—a slit that was already wet as a result of the sensuous massage and getting wetter by the second as her body reacted to the exhibition.
Kayla gasped as the soft towel brushed against the soft inner thigh skin and pushed even higher, nestling its soft folds against her pussy. Brad exerted a little pressure against her and her hips bucked in reaction and she bit her lip to stop herself crying out. Phil kept cutting away, using small movements with the scissors to prevent any chance of digging into her. After another minute, Brad stopped working on her legs with the towel and she closed them again in an attempt to prevent them capturing any more images of her gaping pussy. The t-shirt was folded out; exposing her naked back with the single handprint, and the whole dribble of the gunk and massaging began again.
Although her back was a less intimate zone than her naked ass, a back massage had always been a sure fire route for Ben into her panties. It relaxed and aroused her, especially if it was done slowly and sensuously. Given the cleaner felt like oil under their fingers, and an oil massage had made sex a racing certainty when she and Ben were courting, she couldn’t help closing her eyes and stretching and thinking back to those halcyon days. She moaned a little as their fingers dug into her shoulder blades and yelped when Chris sprayed her once more with the iced water and, before she could stop herself, her body started to writhe under their fingers.
“I think she likes that, guys.”
“Hmm…”
Her response to Chris’s comment was part agreement, part argument.
She stretched, feline-like, and almost purred in pleasure, but tried to keep some of the feelings internalized, which she realized might be a mistake.
Images of one particular date with Ben crossed her mind. She’d spent the previous night swotting up her business accounting finals well into the early hours, and then been up and in the library as soon as it opened working on her coursework paper for the Economics module. By the time she’d gone round to Ben’s shared flat at around six her neck was cricked and her back hurt. He’d taken one look at her and beckoned her into his bedroom. She’d said something like “I’m not in the mood” which had made his two flatmates laugh, but followed him. He’d taken charge, made her lie face down on his bed, in almost an identical position to the one she was lying in now, and then spent half an hour working his magic hands on her back. By the time he’d sat back, finished, she was more than just in the mood. Now, lying here on the platform in front of five men, with two of them massaging her back, it was taking all her willpower not to spread her legs and take on all-comers!
Chapter 5
That train of thought was so alien to her it brought her to her senses quickly. She needed to stop fantasizing about anything even remotely approaching sexy. She gasped at how she’d almost reacted, and tried to tighten her muscles to stop the sensuality of the massage getting to her. The problem for her remained—that was nearly impossible.
“Wipe her back down please. Kayla, I’m going to ask you to roll over in a minute. Be careful not to fall off the edge.”
Kayla lifted her head from her arms as the hands were replaced by the towel and looked back over her shoulder at Chris. Acting on impulse she stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed.
“I can get the guys to turn you over if you’d rather?”
“I can manage quite well by myself, thank you very much!”
Her prim and proper tone contrasted wildly with her state of undress and she knew the incongruity would make everyone laugh—which it did. The touch of the towel to her back was nice—the glance she’d had of it when she looked back over her shoulder told her it was a clean one, so Teri was going to have quite a pile of laundry to wash afterwards. If they used two more on her front, and then at least one more when she washed off, that would make five. She glanced across at the hand pump and sprayer and thought about the wash off, which was going to be an ordeal in itself.
“Okay, Kayla, please turn over and place your hands behind your head.”
; Even with Chris’s earlier warning this was the point she’d been dreading. Her position on a platform which was really too small for her, meant there could be no ladylike or gracious way of performing the maneuver – she would have to just do it quickly, and hope nobody took a picture at the wrong time. She took a deep breath and levered herself up on her arms, then quickly half rolled so she was facing the edge then rolled the rest of the way, knowing she ended up with her legs in a bit of an untidy tangle. Kayla straightened out and watched as the guys concentrated their eye line on her now fully exposed groin, complete with the obligatory handprint. The ones on her chest, at least, were still covered by the remains of the tee shirt, but she didn’t expect that to last much longer than the time it took them to clean her stomach. Once again, Chris surprised her.
“Right, Phil, cut along the arms of the tee shirt so you can remove it please.”
Kayla swallowed hard and licked her lips—she’d thought she was going to get a few more minutes with some vestige of privacy, but that had now been taken from her. She held still as Phil approached her with the scissors and, just as carefully as before, slowly cut the shirt along the seam-line to her shoulder. He handed the scissors to Brad who repeated the process on her left, which he could reach easier than the other man.
“Just lift yourself up onto your elbows to let them finish the job please, Kayla.”
She did as Chris wanted, and looked down at herself surveying the way the handprint just above her tiny blonde landing strip made her nudity something more obscene still. She suppressed a shudder—the scissors were at the back of the neck, completing the process of removing the t-shirt. She had to arch her back a little to release the fabric trapped underneath her body, then watched as Brad slowly drew the ruined garment off her body, revealing her right breast and then her left one—again complete with the handprints the two men had left earlier.
She heard Steve, Andy and Chris, who hadn’t seen the grease marks left by Phil and Brad, suck in their breath and one of them whistled, which she took as a compliment. Still craning her body up because she was leaning on her elbows, she smiled at the two photographers standing near her feet, their cameras in position, and she could faintly hear the shutters clicking.