tagBDSMCollege Girls Take On Developers

College Girls Take On Developers

bymsgrant67©

Chapter 1: Introduction

During Spring Break of our senior year at Florida State, my friend Chelsea convinced another friend, Samantha, as well as myself to come home with her to Rome, Georgia, to relax a bit. This was out of character for us, as wild, beach vacations were more the norm, but we had gotten into a bit of trouble the year before in Daytona during Spring Break so maybe a calm week would do us some good.

When we arrived on Sunday afternoon, we were met by Chelsea's younger sister, Ashley, who was visibly upset.

"What is wrong, honey?" Chelsea said.

"They are going to tear down Ridge Ferry Park," was the reply.

"No!" exclaimed the older sister.

"What is Ridge Ferry Park?" I asked.

"It is the biggest park in town." Chelsea replied.

Ashley started talking quickly, "It is pretty much everything there is to do here! It has a swimming pool, a zoo, a skate park, hiking trails, tennis courts, picnic areas. Everything. Even the teen cruising areas where Chelsea used to park with her boyfriends."

"Why are they tearing it down?" Samantha had finally started paying attention.

Ashley, smiling slightly from her last little joke about her sister, said, "Mr. Jenkins is buying it, and he is going to replace everything with a private golf course and luxury homes. "

"That can't be, Ash. No one would stand for that," her sister told her.

"He can, and he is doing it. The Parks Department is over budget for the year, and Brian Sullivan, the Park and Recreation Director can sell it in order to make budget. Everyone knows that he has received some kind of a bribe, but no one can prove anything. He's been the director for two years and he has already done it to several sites; he is horrible. He only wants to focus on the park properties that make money, like the ones that lease out spaces to businesses and then charge you a lot to camp there and stuff."

"What about the mayor? Can't he just stop it?" I asked.

"He tried, and he is willing to move money from the city budget to save the park, but he cannot get approval to do that until the next scheduled city council meeting. That's not until Tuesday, the 25th. If the park board votes at noon on Thursday the 20th, like they plan to, it will be too late. We're having rallies and events there all week, starting today since it is Earth Day. The theme is a lot more local this year, not just generic 'Save the Environment' stuff like most years; now it's 'Save our Park', but like I said, we are too late to do anything. " Ashley was obviously very concerned with this issue.

"Who on the board supports this?" Chelsea wanted to know.

Ashley explained. "Sullivan needs seven votes for anything to pass. He usually has nine lined up in advance; that way he's safe in case someone does not show for the meeting. It is always the same folks. The older people who think that getting rid of these places will stop the kids from being noisy and stuff. Plus, he has gotten some local business owners appointed. They always support each other since, in their eyes, development means profit."

"So, all we need to do is change three minds by Thursday?" Chelsea asked her sister.

"Well, sure, but, how, Chelsea?"

"Leave that to me, sweety," the older sister replied.

Samantha and I were convinced by Chelsea to help, and it really did not take much convincing. We were afraid that we were going to be bored all week anyway. At least this gave us something to do. Sam and I spent Monday reading up on the issue and deciding whose votes we could flip and, as importantly, how we could do it, while Chelsea went and visited with the mayor, who was an old family friend. Unfortunately, Ashley's version of the events was fairly accurate. The mayor would act and block it if possible, but he could not until after the park board meeting.

We got all the information that we could gather on each member of the board, and we determined that only four members were solidly in our corner. Two bitter old ladies basically voted against anything fun; one was a building supply company owner who wanted any and all development; three were either members of the developer's family or his employees, and then, there was Sullivan himself, Joseph McIntosh, an older gentleman who had been in politics his entire life, and Stan Eisen, basically a 40ish wannabe playboy who had inherited his wealth and owned the town bank.

"Ooh, this one's a hottie, who's this?" Samantha asked as she held up a photo.

"Oh, God, that's Sullivan," Chelsea said, "He's the one doing all this; you need to pick another one."

But Samantha was insistent that if she was going to do this, she at least wanted to have fun. And Samantha pretty much always gets her way.

"I'll get him to change his vote, and we will be done," she said.

"It's not that easy, Sam," Chelsea started to explain, "Even if you somehow convince him, which I am not even sure is possible, the item is still on the agenda, and a vote will still be held. Some of these others still will have motives to see this done."

Eventually it was decided that we would have to take a divide and conquer approach. Samantha would get her way and get Brian Sullivan; Chelsea would get Joseph McIntosh & I, Brittany, would be responsible for Stan Eisen's vote.

Chapter 2: Chelsea's Story

After dividing up our targets, Chelsea made a few telephone calls and set up a lunch meeting on Wednesday with Joe McIntosh. Seeing as how it was a small town, everyone was a friend of a friend, and appointments weren't that hard to come by.

Chelsea spent Tuesday & Wednesday preparing for her meeting. She prepared some charts and spreadsheets filled with facts about the park and what it meant to the community; she compiled a couple of scrapbooks filled with photos of the park and people having fun at the park, but most of all, she learned as much as she could about Joseph McIntosh.

He was in his 60's and had served on practically every board in town. At one point, he had owned the town's newspaper, but he had sold it years ago and now just lives off of his investments. The local gossip was that Joe had been married years ago, but no one seemed to know what ever happened to his wife; the consensus was that she had just moved out of state, though the reasons for this varied quite a bit. Regardless, there was no wife in the picture. The only real "dirt" on Joe was that he would drive out to the county line every month and pick up the current issue of Playboy magazine.

Wednesday arrived, and Chelsea made sure that she got to the restaurant first. By arriving about 40 minutes prior to the noon meeting time, she was able to secure the exact booth that she wanted. It was a two-person booth near the back of the restaurant. It was unusual because the seats in the booth were perpendicular to one another, rather than across from one another. Sometimes the restaurant would add a chair across from each booth bench and create a square table for four, but that wouldn't be needed today. Chelsea knew that being as close to Joe as she could be would be critical. She could give her presentation much easier, plus make it much more convenient for Joe to focus on her. The seat that he would occupy basically faced nothing but a wall, so there would be no worry of other patrons seeing anything that looked odd or coming over to say "Hello" or anything. Chelsea knew that she only had about an hour to change his mind and did not want any distractions.

Joseph arrived promptly at noon, and the hostess led him back to the booth.

As he neared the booth, Chelsea stood up and greeted him, "Mr. McIntosh, thanks so much for meeting me."

"Please call me Joe," he quickly answered.

He glanced down at the small booth, looked at the hostess and said, "Do you have any other tables? This one looks awfully small."

Before the hostess could answer, Chelsea took control. "Oh do not worry about that, Joe. It is just the two of us, we can squeeze in here. I am sure she wants to save the bigger booths for the larger parties."

As she finished speaking, she beamed a smile at him while sliding back into the booth and around to her side. She patted his seat with her left hand, and he moved into the booth as quickly as a puppy would have come to his master.

"So what did you want to talk about, young lady?" he asked.

Chelsea was not sure that she wanted to jump right into, but she went for it. "Well, like I told you on the phone, I am in a political science course in college, and one of our projects is to get involved in an issue and try to affect it positively."

"Ok, that sounds interesting; what can I do for you?" he asked with a smile.

"I have a form my professor gave us. On it I list the issue, my stance, how you are going to vote and what facts I brought up to you when we met. Then, you sign the form, proving that we met, and that's it. Simple, huh?"

Her reply was smooth, and she produced the fake form that she had printed as she spoke, laying it on the table in front of them. She went on to explain that she only had this week to do the project, and the only issue she could find was "this park thing." She asked if he could explain the issue to her while she filled out her form.

He began describing the park, talking about selling the park to make budget and explaining that there was not really any other choice. Chelsea appeared to be taking notes but really was trying to tease the guy by making sure her legs were gently up against his.

When she thought he had finally noticed, she said, "Oh, sorry. I guess you were right; this is an awfully cozy little booth."

"Quite alright," he responded, "It is okay."

She could tell he enjoyed it because he was not using what little space he did have to move away.

"Well, at least you're not seeing my legs," she answered as she lowered her voice, "That could be embarrassing."

He couldn't help but answer, "Why?"

She gave an innocent smile and slowly pulled her leg into view. "Well I got this run and did not have time to change."

He nodded, mesmerized by the site of this perfect leg inches from him. Thinking he should say something, he muttered, "That's nothing; pantyhose do that all the time, honey."

She was now whispering, "Oh, I don't wear pantyhose."

She slowly pulled her skirt up as his eyes were glued to it. She stopped pulling just after revealing the lace top of her thigh highs.

"I see," was all he could mutter.

"Yes, thigh highs are perfect for this hot Georgia weather. Pantyhose on top of my panties can make me hot and sticky in this heat." She was still whispering.

As Joe began to turn red she added, "Uh oh, that didn't sound right. I'm sorry. Let's get back to the park issue."

"Yyy, yes," he managed to stammer.

"I'd like to show you some reasons to vote 'No' to the park sale. Is that okay?" She had a feeling that anything she had asked now would have been okay, and it was confirmed when he nodded.

She pulled out her book which contained chart after chart of nothing useful. This would have bored anyone to tears and she began reading them to Joe.

She positioned the charts toward him and positioned herself behind them, bending towards him slightly, but enough so that her ample cleavage was on full display. It was unbuttoned just a little too much, not enough to show anything but plenty enough to be very distracting. He sat unmoving for far longer than anyone really would have looked at those charts.

When she finally gathered them all up and began to put them away, Joe appeared relieved, though his face was still slightly red, and there were small beads of sweat gathered on his forehead.

Chelsea pulled out a book though, and she scooted over next to him in the booth, positioned where she could open the book, and they could look at it together.

As she began to open the book, she spoke, "Joe, my professor said that the most successful arguments were both logical and emotional. The charts and graphs proved the intellectual reasons to save the park, and this scrapbook will show you the real people affected by the park."

She quickly went through the first few pages showing kids in the park, family reunions, Fourth of July fireworks celebrations and more, but she slowed down when she got to the current section. She had prepared this section carefully after learning of his Playboy magazine habit. (She figured that if enjoyed soft core, she could do that. The trick was to make it subtle, yet very erotic)

"These photos are my friends and I enjoying the park, some taken as recently as this week, Joe." She was slowly letting him peruse the photos of the girls in bikinis; they were splashing in the pool, suntanning in the park and by the pool, rubbing lotion on each other, and jogging by the lake.

For a couple of summers the girls had worked as dancers in a topless club, so they knew the moves, poses and looks to give in the photos. As Joe took in each photo in the dozen or so pages in this section, he was mesmerized. These three girls were among the most beautiful that he had ever seen. And the swimsuits and other outfits that they were wearing were incredible, but nothing prepared him for the final 3 or 4 pages!

When he got to them he literally gasped as Chelsea started explaining the pictures.

"Oh, Joe," she cooed in his ear, "I didn't mean for these to be in here. Oh well, you've seen them. These are our pictures of us trying on costumes for the Halloween party down at the park."

She paused for him to comment, but he simply stared at the page, so she continued.

"That's my friend Samantha in the nurse costume." She let him find it as she described the costume: a tight, white short dress with three small buttons on the front, white thigh highs & heels, and matching lace underneath.

"That is me, of course, in the middle. I'm in a police girl costume. Nothing special," she lied. It was tight, form-fitting and provided even more cleavage than Joe had seen today.

"And that is Brittany, she is tall, blonde and dressed like a cheerleader," she added. Technically, I was dressed exactly like a cheerleader, as I was wearing my actual uniform.

"We are hoping to enter the costume contest this year, Joe; that is, if the park is still open." She added as she gently pulled the book away and closed it.

She remained against him as she returned to filling out her form, "So Joe, did I convince you to change your vote?"

"Well," he answered, "Unfortunately, I already am committed to my vote for the project."

He couldn't even make eye contact as he spoke.

"But Joe, you just saw my presentation," Chelsea did not miss a beat, and she would not let him off easily.

"How could your mind have been made up before you had heard all of the arguments?" she inquired.

Still not looking at her, he babbled something about he and some others on the board supporting each other's projects in order to get stuff in return.

Chelsea acted shocked, "You mean like a bribe?" She reached down and squeezed his thigh as she spoke, and his entire body quivered.

"No, no, nothing like that," he responded, "Just a vote I may need down the road."

"Oh," she seemed relieved, "So you have done this before."

He nodded as she continued, "So you have built up many of these votes, right? Surely, you can just vote to save the park this once and still be okay."

He did not immediately answer so she continued, "I cannot give you votes later, but I can give you a little token of my appreciation."

He turned to her, silently pleading, as she kept on, "You vote to save the park, and I'll give you my scrapbook so you can always remember all of the fun things that happen there."

He turned back to the table, glanced at the book and said, "That whole scrapbook, that might be nice. I never knew about all the stuff that went on there. I guess I can do that. You have made a very convincing case, young lady."

He reached across the table for the book, but she gently caught his hand and started caressing it inside her own hands. "Joe, not that exact book, I just remembered that it has a few pages of my little sister and her friends in the front of it. I would feel bad giving it away."

As Joe frowned, Chelsea brightened up, "I know; I will make copies of my photos and make you a special book tonight. It will be all the pictures of me and my friends Samantha and Brittany. Does that sound okay?

"Sure whatever you think, Chelsea," he added.

"Of course that will leave a few pages blank, and that might not be a great book." She was seemingly talking to herself.

"Joe, I'm sorry but the only other pictures that I have with me are of the three of us trying on each other's costumes, lingerie and nighties. I could fill the book with those if you would like."

"Yes, Yes," he desperately agreed, "I mean just to fill the book." He was trying to maintain composure.

"Okay, baby, you just sign my form that you will vote against the project, go to the meeting tomorrow and vote that way, and I will meet you right afterward and give you my scrapbook."

Chelsea leaned over and kissed his cheek as he signed the form for her, and she thanked him and said that she would see him tomorrow. Then she left.

The board member, in no condition to stand and walk across the restaurant sat there trying to figure out what had just happened.

"Oh, what the hell?" he thought, "It is just one vote. The measure will probably still pass."

He knew, though, that he would have to vote "No," as he needed that scrapbook. Chapter 3: Brittany's Story

My story is a little different. My job was to convince Stan Eisen, the local banker, to vote against the project. Chelsea had asked around and discovered that he had slept around a bit prior to his marriage, and even a little bit afterwards. His wife understandably did not like this, and she was known to confront his partners at their workplaces, churches or homes. Her temperament, as well as the perception that he desperately chased anyone and everyone, led to him having minimal, if any, success for the past few years.

I knew that I could not just walk into his bank and meet him, so the day before the big vote I waited in my car in front of the bank around noon. Eventually, I spotted him crossing the town square returning from lunch. I hopped out of my car and entered the bank so that I would already be in the building as he entered it. Soon enough, he entered and began walking toward his office in the back. I stepped in front of him.

"Excuse me, sir," I sweetly spoke, "Do you work here?

"Yes, of course," he replied, "May I help you?"

"I need a car loan; who can handle that?" I asked.

"Well, normally that would be Ms. Davenport, but it looks like she is still at lunch," he stated while scanning the desks out front. "You can have a seat and wait if you wish."

"I only have a short time, but I can wait a few minutes." As I said this I slowly unzipped my light jacket and let it fall off of my shoulders.

I was confident that I had his attention as I was wearing a sexy red dress underneath featuring a slight plunge in the front. It was a dress more appropriate for a cocktail party than a business meeting, but it had the intended result.

"On second thought you should not have to wait; come on back to my office and I'll try to help you. I am the president here after all." He was attempting to impress me now. Good.

When we got to his office I sat on a sofa next to his desk, rather than one of the chairs across from his. That way his view was unobstructed. I was not doing anything obvious, but my crossed legs, sandals dangling off of my foot and sexy dress seemed to keep him interested. I tried to get him to approve a car loan, saying that I would be graduating from college in a couple of months and that I would find a job and make the payments then.

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