“That was a nice kiss, Tony,” I whispered.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” His fingers ran up and down my leg, and I gulped at my beer—not very feminine. As my head began to swim, I realized that my new body might not have the same metabolism, and maybe three beers and a shot of Wild Turkey was a bit much.
“You’re a bit of a Bohemian,” Tony said. “It’s a good thing you have light hair. It’s hard to see that your legs aren’t shaved, but you are one hairy thing.”
“Ssh, Tony,” I said. “You talk too much.”
I loved how it felt, his hand running up and down my leg, but I needed Tony to stop talking for me to fully enjoy it. Unlike all the gropes I’d received, Tony had a gentle touch.
“I knew this woman that she never let a razor touch her body.”
Oh, shut up and just keep stroking me. Tony’s knuckles graced my inner thigh, and my skin was so sensitive there, it just felt delightful. My mind was swimming in Wild Turkey and Coors Light. I just wanted to feel good.
“One time I bought her a razor…”
I ran my fingers through Tony’s hair and turned his head to mine. Pressing my body to his, I spread my legs and shut him up with my mouth. My eyes were closed and Tony’s hand was up my skirt discovering even hairier parts of my anatomy and my lips crushed his and my hand ran through his hair and fifty men who wanted me were all around and I hadn’t felt this sexual and relaxed in a dog’s age.
I was drunk on beer, booze, and tactile delights. Tony’s knuckles continued to roam around and I kissed him for as long as I could before I finally had to come up for air. I stared into Tony’s eyes.
Wait. What was I doing?
Someone lit up a boombox, and the Presidents of the USA, a band that was big when I was in high school, came on. It was one of my favorite songs: Lump.
Donna was up on one of the built-in benches and dancing up a storm. I leapt off Tony’s lap to get a better view. My heart stopped. Donna was a vision to behold. Her hips jounced left and right, and her breasts bobbed underneath the tee shirt. I watched, mouth agape, totally in love with how free and uninhibited Donna was. The bachelor party started clapping, and soon everyone was dancing. Everyone but me.
I moved through the giant guys, elbowing and squeezing my way, hands pawing at me. I made it to Donna.
Up on the bench, Donna rotated in time to the music, and when her back was to the bachelor party, she lifted the back of her tee shirt up and flashed her naked butt at them all. The bachelor party went nuts.
“You’re wild, you know that!” I shouted up to Donna.
Donna looked down. She’d been so wrapped up in her dance she hadn’t even noticed me. Donna reached out her hand, and I took it, but I couldn’t climb up onto the bench, not in those heels and with that much booze in me.
I didn’t need to climb up. A pair of strong hands lifted me by my waist and placed me alongside Donna. We danced together, me doing some arm waving doowop madness, and Donna waving her hips like Ricky Martin. The bachelor party loved it. I was rotating in place when Donna lifted the back of my skirt—a move that was widely greeted with cheers. And if they liked that, they loved it when I hoisted off my sweater. Donna and I kissed and danced, and the bachelor party got the show they were so desperate for.
“Are you drunk?” Donna asked as she sidled behind me and jiggled my boobies for the crowd.
“A little bit,” I said.
“Well, you certainly are an uninhibited drunk,” Donna whispered in my ear, stealing a nibble while she did so.
And then the lights went out. The B&B had killed the circuit to the gazebo. It was one in the morning, and the rural town had noise ordinances.
“Shit,” Donna said. “It’s one in the morning. Brenda is going to kill me. There’s so much to do.”
"So much to do? Like what?" I asked. Donna released me slowly, and I stood on my own.
"C'mon, sweet cheeks," Donna said, slipping my sweater over my head. We moved with the crowd out of the gazebo, and Donna rested her hand on my ass and kept it there, guiding me back up the flagstone path. I could have run at that point, in the dark, but where would I go? Plus, I liked the proprietary nature of Donna's strong hand on my butt, and I didn't want to leave that behind just yet.
I was walking pretty well in the heels by the time we made it back to the cabin.
When we stepped inside, there was a surprise for me.
CHAPTER NINE
Lisa, the bride, was in my cabin. She was tapping her foot and looking impatient, which wasn’t unusual for her.
"Where's Chet, your handsome groom?" Donna asked.
Lisa’s eyes kept roving up and down my scantily clad body, spending a lot of time on my chest. I arched my back and pushed my titties out. I knew Lisa was jealous of how stacked I was. Lisa was the type who always had to believe she was the hottest in the room, and I was ruining it for her—on her wedding day, no less. If Lisa had been a nicer person perhaps I wouldn’t have arched my back, but Lisa was a bitch, and I enjoyed making her jealous.
"I told Chet to get some sleep," Lisa replied, her eyes roaming down to my tummy. I had a bit of a pooch there. Lisa smiled. “Don’t let Chet see Andy naked,” Lisa said. Hah! Proof! Lisa was totally jealous of me. I smiled.
Stepping right to me, Lisa slapped me hard across the face. "Shame on you, Andy, for what you did to them."
"It's Amber now," Donna said, her palm sliding along my butt cheek. It was a small gesture, but it made me feel totally safe. Donna wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.
Lisa slapped me again. "Shame on you, Amber, for what you did to them. And so help me, if you fuck up my wedding you will be more sorry than you are now." Pointing to my heels, she added, "You better be able to walk in those. I don't want you looking like a baboon on stilts."
"She's doing well," Donna said. "We practiced." She gave me a gentle squeeze. I wanted to purr like a cat.
"Yeah?" Lisa barked. "And what about those hairy legs?"
Cassie eased Lisa aside and held out a cup of water to me. I took it. Cassie broke open a travel packet of Advil and gave me the pills. "Take these," Cassie said. "They'll help."
It was nice of Cassie to be worried about any potential hangover I might have, but how could she know I’d been drinking. I later found out, the pills weren’t for a hangover.
Donna grabbed my shoulders and spun me about, pushing me so that I landed on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Grinning madly, Donna climbed on top of me and clamped her knees against my rib cage. I could feel the warm wetness of her cunt pressing against my belly—she was excited! Donna grabbed my wrists and pressed them onto the pillow under my head. I couldn't move anything but my legs. Her heat radiated onto my torso.
Brenda, Lisa, and Cassie set about tying my ankles to the bed's footboard. Dammit! Donna distracted me. I didn’t even have time to kick my feet.
"It'll help with this," Brenda said. She moved over to a mini-crockpot on the dresser and ladled out a glob of hot wax with a tongue depressor. Brenda spread the oozing dollop on my inner thigh. It was warm and gooey.
"This isn't going to be fun," Donna said, and then leaned down to kiss me. As she bent forward, I got a glimpse of her adorable breasts dangling when the neck of the tee shirt fell away from her body.
"I'm going to get some sleep," Lisa said. “Don’t let Amber fuck up my wedding.” Brenda was pressing a strip of paper against the wax, and I felt wax squeeze out from underneath Brenda's palm.
"Don't worry, Lisa," Cassie said. "We have this completely under control."
I heard the door shut, but quickly forgot about it as Brenda's wrist flicked away, yanking the paper strip from my inner thigh, and with it my leg hair.
"Yeoch!" I screamed into Donna's mouth.
"Easy now," Brenda said. "That's just the start."
"Wait until she does your pussy," Cassie added.
Donna moved her mouth close to my ear and whispered, "I'd love to do your pussy."
&n
bsp; Brenda yanked again.
I screamed.
CHAPTER TEN
It was a beautiful day for a wedding. From early morning on, the birds were chirping, and not a cloud sat in the sky. I hadn't been able to enjoy the morning much, because I spent my time sitting in my cabin while Brenda did my hair and makeup. Donna and Cassie had left to get themselves ready.
"Just a little lipstick and eyeliner, Amber," Brenda said, tossing her auburn curls out of her eyes. Brenda had been slaving away all night, and her sundress wanted to surrender to gravity's embrace. She kept pulling it up. "I'm keeping it simple so you can fix yourself up when your makeup gets smeared."
"Wow, Brenda," I said. "You made the dresses, did my hair with hardly any effort at all, and now the makeup. You're really good at this." I knew Brenda. I knew her well. Brenda was the type who was susceptible to praise. I wanted her in a good mood. I’d sobered up while they depilated me. I’d had time to scheme.
"Thank you, Amber. I should be. I do this all the time."
"You change men into women all the time?" Disarm her with a little humor. Make her feel at ease. This was going perfectly. I’d be able to cajole her into letting me off the hook in no time.
"No, silly," Brenda said. "After college I took over my mother's spa and expanded it. Pabellon de las Chicas is a huge success. We do it all, from massages to makeovers to dress design. I'm kicking some business butt, girl."
I gave Brenda's hand a gentle squeeze. I knew all about her business success, but I also knew she loved to brag about it. "Good for you," I said. "You always were the most driven to succeed. Hold on. What did you say? Why would my makeup get smeared?"
"Up, up," Brenda said. "Stand up. Hair and makeup are done. I'll zip you into your dress, and then it's time for me to go and get myself ready." I stood up, slipped on my shoes, and then stepped into the bridesmaid gown. It was sea green, shoulder less, and with a flared hemline. Brenda described as an A-line. The triangles of stretched fabric Brenda had sewn in helped the fit up top, which was good, because my boobs were the only things holding the dress up.
"Don't I get any underwear?" I asked.
"You won't need it," Brenda replied. "Walk around. Toss your hair. Oh, my God. You look amazing!" I felt amazing. My hairless legs tingled with sex appeal, and the dress fit me perfectly.
"Why thank you," I said. "And let me ask you...does my ass look fat?" I spun about for Brenda to get a better view.
"Why would you ask that?" Brenda said. "Of course it doesn't."
"I thought so. Donna called me a fat ass last night, and I guess it was eating at me."
"Tut-tut. Try to be more secure. Remember, beauty comes from within."
"From within, perhaps, but also from your capable hands,” I said.
Brenda smiled wide, and then the smile broke. “I know your game, Smartypants,” Brenda said. “Oh, you are a smoothie, and so clever—I’ll give you that. But I’m not falling for it. Not today. You just focus on being pretty, alright?”
Dammit. I thought I was doing so well.
“Okay, Brenda, I'll try. But you didn't answer my first question. Why would my makeup get mussed up?"
Was that a stupid question? For all I knew, women’s makeup always got mussed up.
Brenda stared at me, and she looked like thoughts were racing through her mind. "No one told you?" Brenda finally asked.
"Told me what?"
"That is just like those two. Always leaving the heavy lifting to me." Brenda was packing away her hairbrushes into what looked like a plastic tackle box. She slammed the container of bobby pins inside.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Your punishment," Brenda replied.
"I thought this was my punishment."
"It's part of it, but not all." Brenda took a deep breath.
“What? What is it?”
"You've got to have sex with the men in the bridal party. Not the groom, but the best man and the three ushers. You have to have sex with all of them."
What now? Were they crazy? Me have sex with men? What were they thinking? Don’t call them crazy. Don’t say it. That will only get Brenda mad. She was already slamming stuff into her tackle box. Try and reason with her.
"Sex with everyone in the bridal party! That's a bit extreme!"
"I know, right?" Brenda replied. She stopped slamming supplies into her tackle box and turned to me. There was a bit of a teardrop at the corner of her eye. "Sex against your will?" she said. "That can't be right. A person should have a choice. No one should take a person’s power to choose away from them."
"Yes. Yes!" I said. I knew I could reason with her!
"Yes," Brenda said. "No one should take your power to choose away from you. But sometimes people do. Sometimes they do it with a roofie." Brenda started to cry.
Aw, crap. How did I not see that coming? I didn't know what to say. Brenda was panting heavily. I was afraid she might be having a panic attack.
"You know, Andy..." Brenda said through sobs.
"I'm Amber," I said. I didn’t want anyone calling me Andy while I was inhabiting a female body.
"Yes, you are," Brenda replied. "You know, Amber, I would gladly have slept with you. With Andy, I mean. Why did you do what you did? You didn't need to roofie me."
Still at a loss for words, I reached out to hug Brenda.
"Don't touch me Andy. I hate you sometimes. I really do."
"I'm Amber," I said. “Can’t Amber hug you?” That was enough to open the door, so to speak. Brenda let me hug her, and she hugged me in return. I whispered into her ear, "I'm sorry."
Brenda cried while I held her, and I patted her back. I didn't really mean I was sorry. There was nothing to be sorry for. Brenda had admitted it—she wanted to sleep with me. So, when I roofied her, I was only getting her to do something she would have done anyway—just taking a shortcut. Therefore, no apology required. But I didn't want to see her cry. If me saying I was sorry, even when I wasn't sorry, made Brenda feel better, then it was no skin off my back.
"I think I like you better as Amber," she said. "You're more sensitive."
"I am," I replied. "So," I asked, "what can I do to make it up to you?"
Brenda pulled back from me and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "Have sex with all the men in the bridal party. Preferably by nightfall." I opened my mouth to speak, but Brenda pressed my lips shut with a finger. "Handjobs don't count," she said. "For our purposes today, anything else is sex. And by the way, Javier loves anal, but don't believe him when he says it won't hurt. It will. A lot. Trust me, I know. But after it hurts, it feels amazing!"
"Brenda," I said. "No. Anything else. Please?"
"It's the least you can do," Brenda replied. "Andy was a bad boy. Besides, you've always been a horndog. This isn't a stretch for you. And it's easy to get laid at a wedding. Spread your legs and learn. I have to go get ready." With her tackle box in hand, she left, closing the door gently behind her.
Learn? What did she mean by learn?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
After Brenda left, I sprang into action. My wallet, cell phone, and car keys were missing. The bridesmaid had anticipated those options, but no worries. There was no way they could know about the three hundred dollar bills I kept in the lining pocket of my suitcase.
The money was still there. I took the money out and shoved it in the top of my dress. The drapes were pulled shut on the front window of the cabin. I eased them apart, to be sure Brenda was gone. Dammit! Brenda was gone, but Cassie was standing watch outside my front door. Shit!
I scurried back into the bathroom and looked at the only other window in the cabin. Measuring the window with my hands, I compared it with my hips. There was no way I was getting out of that window. That cabin was a real fire hazard.
Cassie was pacing a bit as she waited outside my cabin. I tried to see a pattern to her walk, but there was none. People would pass by, out of my line of sight, and Cassie would wave and call out to them. Not having any better pla
n, I decided to wait until Cassie got into a long conversation. She was a chatterer by nature. I hoped I’d get lucky. In the meantime, I checked out Cassie.
There was a light breeze coming off the water, and it tossed Cassie’s hair about—what curls weren’t pinned down, that is—with a freewheeling abandon. Gone were Cassie’s red Keds, shorts, and spaghetti strap top. Cassie wore her sea green bridesmaid dress, and she wore it well. The A-line cut fluttered with the breeze, giving Cassie the illusion of more curves than she really had. Her tan legs and tan shoulders looked delicious, like soft caramels. If I still had a cock, I could have rubbed one out just looking at her.
As luck would have it, an older couple was taking a stroll, and Cassie got wrapped up in conversation with them. This was my chance. I couldn’t remember if my door squeaked, so I eased it open. No squeak, and Cassie was still facing the other way. All I had to do was slip past her, and then Brenda, Donna, and Lisa, and I’d be home free. Brenda was probably getting ready, so I had a good shot. I tiptoed out of the cabin. It was a bright morning, so I didn’t see the bit of fishing line strung along about four inches off the floorboards. A bucket of empty beer cans spilled down onto the floorboards of the cabin’s front porch. What a huge racket. Cassie spun around and beamed a big smile. Her look said, “Gotcha!”
Cassie had always been smarter than me.
We’d been study partners for a few courses in college, and that led to many a late night at the library. For a while there I thought Cassie might be the one. I still remember how much courage I had to screw up to lean over and kiss her during a study session. “What are you doing?” Cassie said in shock, and I replied, “Kissing a pretty girl.” Cassie blushed and grinned, and then said, “Oh, okay.” After that, all our study sessions concluded with some making out. But that was as far as it went. Maybe it was me. Maybe I was a bit clueless as to how to move things along. I was a bit hamstrung by the fear of losing a good friend if I made a move and it was rejected—so I never made a move. It was a pity, because Cassie and I shared a similar sense of humor and a laid back approach toward life in general. Cassie could have been the one, and I think she felt the same toward me, but I blew it.
Revenge of the Bridesmaids Page 5