I’m not a patient person. When I finally roofied Cassie, since I was tired of waiting, I did, of course, get her in the sack. But it wasn’t satisfying. It was as if Cassie’s body was there with me, naked under the sheets, but Cassie’s crazy self was not. After the roofie night, I treated Cassie coldly. At the time, I told myself it was because I was bored with her, but I could never shake the notion that whenever Cassie and I were alone together, my guilt over what I’d done hung in the air. It was a secret, my secret, and it ruined our relationship.
And now Cassie knew all about it. And she was angry.
“Hey Cassie!” I called out when the cans finally stopped clattering.
“Hey Amber,” she replied with a wave. “Come on out. It’s a beautiful day.”
The day was gorgeous, but I was crippled by the fear of being outside my cabin in this woman’s body during broad daylight. Last night was different. It had been dark, and towards the end, I was a bit drunk. “No,” I said. “Come in here.”
Cassie managed to bounce when she walked, even in the heels. She was a bundle of energy. When she reached my door, she locked her arm through mine and led me out into the sunshine. “Don’t be shy, Amber,” she said. “You look adorable. This is going to be such a fun wedding.” Then, leaning in, Cassie whispered into my ear, “There are so many cute guys here.”
Aww, geez.
It turned out I wasn't as good at walking in the high heels as I'd supposed. A few hours were not enough practice. I pulled down at the hem of my dress. The blowing wind only served to remind me I had no undies on. “Please, Cassie. I’m so sorry for what I did. Please don’t make me do this.”
“Do what?” Cassie asked. “Attend your friends’ wedding?”
“No. Not that. I can attend the wedding looking like this, and you can all have your revenge. But Brenda said I have to have sex with all the guys in the wedding party.”
Cassie squeezed my arm and smiled. To the casual observer we looked like two girlfriends getting along famously. “Oh, that,” she said. “Yeah, you definitely have to do that, or we’ll have you arrested. That’s your penance, Amber. Embrace it.” She seemed to struggle, taming her energetic walk so that it kept pace with my tentative one. “Be glad they’re all good looking,” Cassie said. “Relax and enjoy yourself. I plan on enjoying myself—immensely.” She squeezed my arm again.
“For old time sake?” I asked. “Please, Cassie, get me out of this mess.”
“For old times, sake,” Cassie said, doing her best imitation of Abe Vigoda in The Godfather. Then she switched to a Robert Duvall voice: “No can do, Sallie.”
“Your DeNiro is better,” I said.
“Everyone does DeNiro. Oh, look, they’re gathering up the bridal party. Let’s go.” Cassie steered me towards the bridesmaids and groomsmen, who looked spiffy in their tuxes. What guy doesn’t look good in a tux? “You know,” Cassie said, “there was a time when I wanted nothing more than to make love to you. Now, I just want you to get fucked, but not by me. It’s your mess. Dig your way out.”
I shuddered at the thought. My legs, freshly waxed and delightfully free of hair, felt every tickle of the infinitely-fingered wind. Vague memories of the night before kept popping in my head. Yep, half the male wedding guests had seen my breasts. And I made out with a guy named Tony. Great.
Despite my dilemma, I got a kick out of Cassie, Donna, and Brenda all wearing matching dresses. They looked adorable, like something out of a Disney movie. They were princesses! I couldn't believe how feminine Donna looked, strutting about in her heels like she wore them all the time, her tan surfer shoulders revealing impressive definition. Donna's white smile flashed brilliantly and often, especially when she was talking to one of the ushers. That made me very jealous, Donna talking to the ushers.
Wait. I was wearing the same dress. I was a Disney princess too. I bit my lip, letting the realization that I was a princess sink in. The groomsmen, or ushers, looking debonair in their tuxes, all leered at me hungrily. Were they at the party when I got there? I couldn’t recall. Their eyes roved over my body, and I felt like I might as well have been naked. It was creepy—way creepy—but also a little exciting, somewhat affirming of my attractiveness. In that way, it was oddly nice. When I ogled women, was that how I made them feel?
We were paired off with the ushers and went over to the wedding gazebo. My partner was Devon, who looked like a California surfer boy that grew up to get a corporate job. I definitely did not recall Devon being in the gazebo the night before.
Once the bride and groom were in front of the reverend, and the reverend was droning on, I had time to check out Devon a little more thoroughly—he stood across from me. His hair was sun bleached blond, and probably would be until he turned gray. Devon was incredibly fit, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. His cummerbund was totally flat against the bottom of his stomach. We stood opposite each other by the altar, so it was only natural for me to look at him. I mean, where else were my eyes to go? I stared at his hands, which were clasped in front of him, below his shiny black cummerbund, and I marveled at his big, thick fingers.
The breeze whipped up inside my dress, reminding me that I wasn't wearing panties and that Brenda's wax removed the hair from more than just my legs.
Devon was in the same pickle as me—where to look? His eyes were settled on the bouquet I held in front of me. At least he had flowers to look at. What did I have? I moved the flowers slowly, from left to right, just to draw Devon's eyes about, but his eyes didn't waver. Oh my goodness. Devon wasn't staring at my flowers. His eyes were locked on my cleavage! I dropped my gaze. Oh, I was showing a lot of cleavage, and now a red bloom broke out across my exposed chest. My heart quickened. Devon was totally checking me out. It was soooo embarrassing. And kind of flattering too. Whew! I was missing the whole ceremony with my daydreaming.
The Reverend continued. "And do you, Chet, take this woman, Lisa, to have and to hold, to honor and obey..."
Hunh? I thought they cut out the "honor and obey" part. Lisa didn't say it, I was pretty sure. Only Chet did.
Chet managed not to stutter at all during the ceremony, and I was very happy for him. Maybe Lisa was exactly what he needed. She seemed to scare the shortcomings right out of him.
Before long the ceremony was over, and the guests proceeded to the restored barn for the cocktail hour while we, the bridal party, posed for a seemingly infinite number of photos.
"Okay," said the photographer, a balding fat man who squeezed into a cheap suit for the wedding. "Now, bridesmaids in the front, and ushers behind. Ushers, arms around the bridesmaids."
Devon stood behind me, and I smiled over my shoulder at him. He seemed pleasant enough. I was still holding my bouquet when Devon slipped his hand under my arm, and pressed his palm against my little pooch of a tummy. The fingers of his other hand graced my hip before they also found their way to my tummy. I became terribly self-conscious that Devon could tell I wasn't wearing undergarments. Silly, I knew, but I felt that way just the same. I worried about what kind of signal that sent.
Craning his neck forward, Devon placed his head alongside mine, just like the photographer requested. He smelled nice—sweet and manly. "Ooh, hello there!" I said when he surprised me by brushing his smooth cheek against mine. Boy, he smelled good.
"You look quite beautiful today, Amber," he cooed.
"Uh, thank you. You're not so bad yourself." Geez, that canned reply just slipped out of me. Devon was likely to get the wrong idea. What an idiot I was.
His arms hugged me snugly, and his fingers spread out along my front, as if he were claiming me. I found myself leaning back against his strong chest, mainly to keep my butt from touching him, when the flashbulb finally went off. I was leaning back so much that when I went to step away, I lost my balance. My ankle buckled, and I started to drop, but Devon's strong arms held me up. His hands were right under my breasts.
"Thanks," I said. "You saved me from falling on my ass." That was no
canned reply. It was entirely true.
"Anytime," Devon said. “I work at restoring classic cars, so protecting objects of beauty is kind of my thing. Cassie tells me you’re on the rebound, and looking for some casual fun.”
Objects of beauty? Was he talking about me or the cars? How brazen, and what a lame line! That’s the way the world worked—gorgeous guys could get away with lame lines. Just because he was all muscular and had that surfer vibe, and smelled so good, and had those dreamy dark blue eyes, Devon seemed to think he was irresistible. He certainly was confident. I’d give him that. Way confident. Being gorgeous engenders confidence.
Cassie was watching us, hanging on our every word.
“Yeah, I’m up for casual fun,” I replied, looking Devon right in his piercing blue eyes. “Like a good game of Parcheesi.” He grinned at me. Of course, his teeth were perfect, and framed by full lips.
"Okay," the photographer droned on with an air of jadedness that made me think he'd done this too many times. "Now, just the bridesmaids."
“Bye-bye, Parchessi Pal,” I said to Devon.
He kissed the back of my hand and replied, “See you soon.” My cheeks burned hotly as I watched him walk away. What a smoothie.
I stood next to Brenda. The photographer was fiddling with his camera settings. We waited.
"Amber," Brenda said softly. "I wouldn't go for Devon first."
"I'm not 'going' for anybody," I said.
"Sure you aren't. But save Devon for later. He's hung like a horse." Brenda chewed her gum, being sneaky about it, because if Lisa caught her chewing gum it would make the atom bomb look like a BB gun. "Devon's cock will rip up your virgin pussy. I mean really, totally, rip up your pussy! Tear it wide open. Just devastate it. Believe me, I know."
All that talk of my pussy getting ripped up made the pit of my stomach grew cold, although I couldn't be sure whether it was from fear or excitement. And what was with prim and proper Brenda? First she warned me about Javier's predilection for anal, and how much it would hurt, and now she was warning me about Devon's huge cock. Was Brenda a secret sexual corsair? And why was she feeding me tips?
I didn't get a chance to ask Brenda any questions, because the photographer got his camera set and took our picture, and then told us to step aside, so he could shoot more shots of the bride and groom.
Loitering around, we watched the photographer pose Chet and Lisa. We were on standby in case he wanted bridesmaids or ushers again. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Devon watching me carefully. My heart raced once more, and my stomach clenched.
"Hey, Amber," Cassie hissed into my ear. She held my bare arm tightly.
"Yeah?" I replied, keeping my eyes on Devon.
"I can help you out,” Cassie whispered. “Come with me. They don't need us here anymore." Her hand slid down my arm and clasped my narrow wrist. Off we went at Cassie’s fast trot. Was I out of this mess already? Hallelujah! Cassie’s legal mind must have finally agreed that this was a way disproportionate response. Outstanding!
"Okay," I said, rushing to keep up with her. "Hey, slow down, Flo Jo. I'm going to break an ankle."
"Sorry," Cassie said. "But we have to hurry." Hooray! My old study-buddy was coming through for me. I didn't expect to get help from any of the bridesmaids, so this was a pleasant surprise. Maybe Cassie realized it wasn't that big a deal, what I'd done. My eyes shot back, searching for Devon in the crowd.
"Let's go," Cassie said. "Hurry up." Boy, Cassie was fast, even without her red Keds on. But Cassie was providing me an escape. For that, I’d run a marathon in heels.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Cassie led me into the restored barn that served as the B&B's catering hall. To call it a barn was to undersell it. The first five feet of its outer walls were mortared New England stone, and the roofline soared fifty feet over our heads. The floor was wide-planked hardwood, polished to a high shine. This must have been some fine estate in its day, before the real estate vultures carved it up.
The cocktail hour was underway. The party consisted of over two hundred guests in all, and the barn could easily accommodate twice that. Management had even used folding screens to seal off parts of the barn, alcoves mainly, so the wedding area would feel cozier. They could probably have accommodated a party of three hundred easily. Waiters and waitresses snaked through the crowd carrying trays of appetizers.
I wondered why Cassie was leading me through the bulk of the wedding party, and then supposed she was trying to get us lost in the crowd. There had to be a rear exit—maybe we were heading there. Almost everyone was still milling about and hadn't taken their seats. Once the photographer was done with Lisa and Chet, they'd make their big entrance into the barn and get the celebration started. But for now, people mingled and enjoyed the cocktail hour.
Cassie pulled me to a far corner of the barn, right behind one of the open bars. Free liquor—classy! From the look of the line at the open bar, this party was going to be quite lively.
We moved past the bar. Cassie was leading me to the alcove behind the bar—a former horse stall. It had a room-dividing screen blocking it off. Because the screen started a few inches above the floor, I could see a pair of patent leather loafers tapping impatiently behind the folding screen room divider.
I pulled back on Cassie's arm. "What are you doing?" I hissed. “I thought we were heading for an exit.”
"No, silly. He's waiting for you."
This was a trap all along! "I never agreed to have sex with all the wedding party," I said.
"Okay," Cassie replied. She elbowed her way to the front of the line at the open bar and nudged the next guest aside. “Bridesmaid priority,” she cooed, smiling sweetly. The older gentleman nodded and let Cassie ahead of him. “Two G&Ts,” Cassie said. “Don’t skimp on the G.” She tossed a twenty into his tip jar.
After getting our drinks, we moved over to in front of the screen blocking the former horse stall—where my stallion waited—and Cassie handed me one of the G&Ts. “Drink,” she said.
“No.”
“Drink half of it, and I’ll listen to your plea,” Cassie offered.
Dammit. There was a disadvantage to someone knowing me so well. Cassie was well aware that I loved G&Ts. I swallowed down half the drink in one long gulp. It was cold and tart and delightful. Warmth radiated out from my belly.
“Whew! That’s almost all gin,” I said.
“Good,” Cassie said. “It’ll loosen you up, you tightass.”
“Cassie, please don’t make me do this. I don’t want to do this.”
“That’s your best plea?” Cassie asked with a twinkle in her eye. “It’s a good thing I’m the one who went to law school. Drink the rest.”
She didn’t have to say it. I was about to anyway. In an instant, the drink was gone, and my empty belly now had gin sloshing around in it. My whole body started feeling coolly pleasant. Gin worked fast on me, which was probably why I liked it.
Cassie held up her clutch, dyed to match her dress, of course, and said, "If you have sex with all the men in the wedding party, then I give you the antidote in my purse and change you back. If you don't, then we change you back but file charges with the police using the videos you shot as evidence. It's your call."
"That's blackmail," I said.
"It is blackmail, which is a Class E felony. However, when you roofied us, you were guilty of rape, and rape is a Class A felony, with sex offender status tacked on. You'll be marked for life. We’ll get off with a slap on the wrist. You’ll go to jail."
It was a choice, but it wasn't much of one. I didn't want to go to jail.
“The punishment seems to outstrip the crime,” I said.
“Only from your perspective,” Cassie replied, heat flaring up in her gaze. “Try not to think of it as a punishment.” I grew relieved as I watched her familiar playfulness return to her face. “Think of it as a learning experience. No, wait.” She bounced in place and squeezed my arm. “Think of it as an adventure.”
<
br /> Adventure? Pfft. Adventures were supposed to be fun. I had a lot of emotions running through me—fear, worry, dread—and not one of them was a sense of fun. "I don’t even know how to approach him,” I said. “I know, I have this hot body…”
“You certainly do,” Cassie snickered.
“…but I don't have any feminine wiles," I concluded.
"Yeah, right," Cassie said. "How about with Devon before...'Thanks for catching me. You're my hero!’ Those were feminine wiles, for sure.”
“I didn’t say that!”
“Your mouth might not have, but your body did. Just go with your instinct with Cliff here, behind the screen."
"How do I know he even wants me?"
"I told Cliff you've never given a blowjob and really need to—it’s the truth, after all. You need to in order to return to your male body. Cliff graciously volunteered to help you out with that."
"I bet he did," I replied. My eyes scanned the crowded room. "What, right there behind the screen? I can see his feet Cassie."
"Size nine," Cassie said. "Don't worry, it'll be easy."
"Ugh. Gross. No, not that. People will see me kneeling there."
"Look at you, Miss Center of the Universe, everyone is focused on me," Cassie said sarcastically. "Get over yourself, Amber. You're not all that."
Cassie yanked me into the horse stall, behind the screening divider, where Cliff sat waiting.
"Hi," Cliff said, his blue eyes gleaming under his heavy brow. His hair was light brown, but his thick eyebrows were almost black. His skin was fresh, and his face was engaging. His body was…not unattractive.
"Amber, this is Cliff," Cassie said as she held my shoulders. "Cliff, this is Amber.” I smiled at Cliff, and Cassie went on to say, “Amber wants to suck your cock."
"Hey!" I said. My eyes darted to the screening divider. Could they hear us in here? Probably not. The crowd was lively already, and there was a low undercurrent of chit-chat filling the air.
Revenge of the Bridesmaids Page 6