NWMD!: Marnie Encounters French Lawbyspunknwagnels©
Prologue: "NWMD!" identifies this as a part of the "Not With My Daughter!" series of adventures befalling Marnie, her friends and family. Each stand-alone part derives from the initial story where a man named Larcher under the threat of unleashing his son on Marnie's daughter, Brenda, blackmails and humiliates Marnie. This is a part that would pass the age submission guideline. If you want to read these in the order that I wrote them, feel free to contact me or visit my site. Others to follow. Please enjoy.
“Oooo Marnie, this is so exciting. The trials and tribulations we went through to get this trip suddenly seem worth it, don’t they?.” Barbara said, waiting for their chance to board the flight to Orly.
“Don’t remind me. Let’s put all of that behind us and make new memories that will overpower the memories of the past.” Marnie countered.
“I’m with that.” Barbara agreed. “Look at our two guys, Marnie wave. Do you think they’ll do okay without us for a week?”
“Roger’s a trooper. With the meals I put up in the freezer, he has no excuses, as long as Brenda doesn’t run roughshod over him.
“My George is the same way. Our daughters sure have them wrapped around their little fingers, don’t they.” Barbara added.
As they inched along the enclosed gangway to the plane Marnie warned, “I hope you don’t expect much conversation from me on the flight, I’m going to do what we used to tell Brenda to do on trips, that is sleep as much as possible to make the trip seem shorter.”
“That’s not a bad idea. It is a long trip and we have the time zone changes. Let’s both try to rest as much as possible so we’ll have the strength to party along the Mediterranean when we get there.” Barbara agreed. “This seems like a spirited group, I hope they plan to settle down once the plane is under way.” Barbara observed of the regular members of the group chartering the plane, who were boisterous and physically animated.
Marnie and Barbara’s seats were in the middle of the bulkhead. They had nothing to look at but a pattern of the airline’s colors in a fifties art style. The plane was a wide body with two isles. They pulled seats in the middle two of six seats across, and looked longingly at the paired seats along the windows, as they knelt on their seats and looked back at the large plane.
“Oh Ma’am,” Marnie was saying, to get a flight attendant’s attention, “Is this going to be a full flight?”
“Yes Ma’am, I sorry it is. You can look at it this way though, you have the best two seats for the movie screen in this section.”
Marnie and Barbara sat back into their seats and put their belts on. “It’s okay Marnie, we’ll be sleeping right?” Barbara said, consoling.
They ended up being bracketed by well-tanned friendly couples on either side of them. Each couple on their out side, was so eager to make conversation with them, so that for the first fifteen minutes after taking off Marnie and Barbara barely even looked at each other. About twenty minutes into the flight Marnie and Barbara excused themselves, so they could talk together. Just as they decided to try to sleep, the flight attendants were in the aisles passing out packages for all of the charter passengers. Marnie pointed out that they weren’t part of the group, but the flight attendant said that they had paid for their seat, so they were entitled. They looked at the sealed package, and saw the “Sun Tours International” logo, looked to their sides and saw their neighbors starting to doze, and smiled at each other as they closed their eyes to sleep.
Marnie was awakened by the flight attendant asking the couple in the window row to the left for beverage requests. The flight attendant had changed from the airline uniform into a colorful bikini top and matching wraparound skirt ensemble, giving her a tropical island girl look. Then another attendant appeared similarly dressed but in different colors on the other aisle.
Marnie elbowed Barbara awake to ask, “Hey Barb, do you want something to drink?”
“Oh hi, I guess so. What are you having?” Barbara asked.
“The tray is filled with mixed drinks with umbrellas.” Marnie observed out loud. “This is an unusual flight.” She said to Barbara, then to the attendant, she responded, “I guess I’ll have what everyone else is having.”
“Me too.” Added Barbara.
“Ummm, Pina Coladas.”
They talked for about fifteen minutes about what they planned to do for fun and relaxation on the trip until an announcement was heard for people to close the shades for a movie. The movie started and it was obviously an old movie from the fifties or so, called “Penelope’s First Time”. Marnie and Barbara looked at each other quizzically in unison as the poorly restored movie started its run.
It was about a young woman’s awakening to the healthful benefits of nudism. The passengers were laughing uproariously, but Marnie and Barbara stared at the screen eyes wide, mouths open, incredulously. The couple to Marnie’s left nudged her to see if she was enjoying the outdated movie as much as they were. Marnie smiled politely, and went back to feeling like she had taken the flight to the Twilight Zone.
There were a couple of more movies in a similar vain, “Ways to Health and Beauty” and “Elysia”. Between runs, the flight attendants passed out more drinks and seemed to be amused with their unique assignment for this group. By the second and third movies, the passengers were, by and large, not listening to the dialog through the headphones, but rather talking and partying with the movie as a back drop to their festivities.
When the movies were done, the lights went back up. People were up and milling. The couples to either side of the two women were standing, opening their souvenir packages from Sun Tours International, and taking out what looked to be a small fitted sheet. They were putting it on over their seat, like a cover for a car seat. Marnie and Barbara thought this odd, but odder still, the people on either side of them began taking off their clothes as well.
“Oh no, now I know I’m on the flight to the Twilight Zone.” Marnie thought to herself.
“Marnie, what’s happening?” Barbara insisted, holding on to Marnie’s upper arm.
“Looks to me like you booked us on some kind of a nudist flight, given the movies and this.” Marnie responded.
“Marnie, what are we going to do?” Barbara said with a note of panic in her voice.
“I don’t know for sure, but I’ve been to a nudist beach before, and one thing I know is, if we are the only ones with clothes on, we are going to feel just as out of it as if we were the only ones without clothes.”
“You went to a nudist beach?” Barbara said, not quite believing her ears. “Where, when, . . .?” She continued, as a respite from dealing with the current dilemma.
“That’s not important now. I think we should take some clothes off.” Marnie suggested. “Then she turned to the neighbor on her left to be sure, “Excuse me, but could you tell us what is going on right now?”
“Haven’t you been on an STI tour before?” She asked, not expecting an answer, “They present the finest in healthy and natural touring.”
“Oh gawd, I thought that they meant organic meals and mineral water instead of regular airplane cuisine by that.” Barbara muttered under her breath.
“What’s that?” Marnie asked.
“Oh nothing.” Barbara responded. Then she asked the lady next to Marnie, “Does this mean that we have to go nude on this flight?”
“No, but you might find that it will be more comfortable. Why don’t you just try it and see.” She said.
“Marnie, I can’t do this. Stop. Put that back on. How can you do this?” Barbara said, worried to be left behind.
“Barb, like the lady said, why don’t you just try it.” Marnie asked. “If I recall, it was you shaking it all for the entertainment of a hundred people that got us on this trip in the first place.” She whispered. “Here you are sitting quietly on an airplane where few people can see you, and the ones that can, are naked too, and don’t care about your nudity. Believe me, you will feel more comfortable by joining in than holding out.” Marnie explained.
“Marnie, how do you get me into these things?”
“How do I? You had to know about the party, sister, and it was you who booked the flight. Now, let’s make the best of it. These people are all enjoying it, let’s do the same.” Marnie directed.
Marnie resumed her efforts at disrobing and adjusting the seat cover. Barbara had her blouse undone, but was holding it closed. “Marnie, I think I’ll catch cold.” Barbara whined.
“Can’t you tell that the heat has been turned up? Ummm, the smell of bodies is somewhat arousing, don’t you think? Well, suit yourself, but if you are experiencing what I am experiencing right now, you’ll have to walk down one of these aisles to the bathroom pretty quick. Those drinks are going right through me.” Marnie warned. “Everywhere you look you will see naked bodies, I’m sure, and everyone’s eyes will be on you, unless you go for invisibility by being undressed like they are.”
“Darn you, I didn’t have to go until you reminded me.” Barbara said, now complying with Marnie’s suggestion to join in the spirit of the flight. She only undressed to her bra and panties though, put on the souvenir slippers from the STI package, and started down the aisle for the bathroom.
All eyes were on her and it made her feel like she stood out somehow, despite her minor attempt at modesty. She only made it half way before the mortification sent her back to her seat. She sat for a moment, caught her breath, and collected her resolve. Then she removed her bra and panties. Marnie flipped through the onboard magazine, to avoid any possibility of giving Barbara the “I told you so” look.
Barbara couldn’t wait much longer, so she got up, walked shyly down the other aisle, and discovered that all she got were occasional glances and smiles. She walked with more confidence as she progressed down the aisle. When she got to the bathroom, there was a line. She had to stand on display, praying the line would move fast enough so she wouldn’t have an embarrassing accident right there in the aisle. As passengers left the bathroom, the people in line had to squeeze out of the way as they passed. Barbara found that, she either had to push her butt into the face of a seated passenger, or allow her body to be grazed by another naked body of a total stranger as they passed. When a gentleman’s semi hard cock grazed her mons Veneris, she had an uncontrollable shudder, and turned several shades of red. On her way back to her seat, she was forced to rub her body against all of those who were in line waiting, in a gauntlet of tits and cocks for ten to fifteen feet of bodies.
“Phew!” She exclaimed as she joined Marnie. “I hope I don’t have to go again when it is so crowded. I’d wait a bit if I were you.”
“Can’t wait. Got to go, bye” Marnie said with some urgency.
As Marnie initially fell into line, a member of the cockpit crew was walking down the aisle, ostensibly, to get a refill of coffee, but declined offers to skip in line to reach the flight attendants, preferring to make conversation with Marnie about unimportant things, and visit with the passengers around the two of them instead. “He is just staying here to gawk. It’s so transparent. He’s pretty good looking, though. I’d like to rip that uniform off of him and try him out for size. . . . Down girl! . . . Oh, when is this line going to get to the bathroom? . . .” Marnie thought to herself through the unimportant conversation the cockpit crewmember was making.
While waiting in line, Marnie suffered the same indignities and arousing contacts with nude bodies, but with the added pressure in her bladder, which made her squeeze her knees together and pad in place until she could mercifully make her way to the restroom facility.
When she got back to her seat, Marnie and Barbara just stared at each other not saying a word until the standoff was broken by simultaneous laughter. “How are we managing to get ourselves into these fixes lately?” Marnie asked as they calmed back down to normal.
“We’re living life more like you said, aren’t we?” Barbara posed rhetorically. “By the way, how do you propose we sleep now, when we are naked in a plane full of strangers, hunh?”
Someone had brought out a boom box with some Latin dance music playing in the back. By request, the music level was brought up. People were up and walking around getting drinks, socializing, and moving in place to the rhythms that moved them. A couple of guys were teasing the flight attendants as they tried their best to keep up with the drink orders. Someone figured out how to get the music to play over the P.A. system of the plane. They could hear singing along and shouts, “Hey!” to the music getting louder and louder. To their surprise, a conga line snaked up the aisle on their right and slid in front of them at the bulkhead, then back down the aisle to their left. Marnie and Barbara were mesmerized by waves of bouncing tits, cocks, and balls dancing in front of them. Toward the end of the line, they discovered one of the flight attendants in line, topless, bouncing along with the passengers. As the end of the line was passing in front of them, the man bringing up the rear grabbed Barbara’s hand to urge her into the line. His firm grip and friendly manor got her up and joining them, but not without her grabbing Marnie’s hand and making sure she joined too.
When they got back to their seats, Marnie and Barbara were laughing and somewhat out of breath. “What are we doing on this flight?” Marnie said, not expecting an answer.
“I sure know how to pick’em, don’t I?” Barbara said with a pinch of humor and sarcasm.
The flight went on as one long party across the Atlantic. Aside from an occasional nipple twist or ass grab, there was no overt sex occurring. At one point, several passengers got a flight attendant to take off her skirt and bikini top on a dare to serve coffee to the cockpit crew. She hurried back, not believing what she had just done, to the applause of everyone in on the dare. Then she quickly put her wraparound skirt back on when she returned to the galley.
The passengers had their clothes back on when the plane was starting its decent into Orly. Then to everyone’s concern, the flight was diverted for some problem on the ground. They later learned that the airport was shut down for incoming and outgoing traffic for a couple of hours due to an international terrorist incident. Flights were being diverted to De Gaulle Airport, Brussels National, and Bron Airport in Lyon. Landing in Lyon, as they were, meant that they were closer to their final destination, Marseilles, but without their scheduled connection.
There was much confusion in customs with the extra workload. Marnie and Barbara, stalled in a foreign country, unable to speak French, and unaccustomed to protocol, were growing more and more concerned. When they finally got to a counter person to get help, they got a fairly cold reception, when they didn’t even attempt speaking their concerns and questions in French. They suspected that they were being understood, but that the counter person was having a little fun at their expense while they squirmed a bit. A Latin gentleman came up their rescue, pulled them aside, and asked what their problem was. They explained that they needed to get to Marseilles to catch the Club Mediterranean Tours boat to the resort, or they would miss their opportunity to join their tour.
He introduced himself as Senior Deniero. He indicated he would be happy to fly them to Marseilles, since he needed to get the family jet down there for his son to take anyway, or he’d drive them if they preferred. He spoke English very well, and the ladies felt fairly helpless with their circumstance, so they accepted his kind offer of a lift. Marnie felt more comfortable when she saw the familiar “Leer Jet” name on the plane.
Once in Marseilles, they deplaned onto the tarmac, and were greeted by the junior Deniero, who had been briefed on their arrival. He introduced himself and started to pick up their bags. “Oh, Senora,” he was saying to Marnie, “would you do me a favor and take this package back on and give it to the pilot for me, por favor?”
Marnie, surprised, said “Sure,” and reboarded the plane with the two to three pound package. When she came back out, gendarmes surrounded Barbara and the junior Deniero. She didn’t know what to do, so she approached Barbara and was taken into custody with her. Gendarmes boarded the plane, took out the pilot and copilot, along with the package she had taken on board.
Riding in the van handcuffed as they were, Marnie and Barbara were as frightened as either of them had been in their entire lives. “What is happening Mr. Deniero?” Marnie asked, close to tears.
“Don’t say a thing. This guard can understand English.” Senior Deniero directed.
“But, we didn’t do anything!” Marnie insisted.
“Shhh. These guards are going to take anything you say and interpret it the way that makes sense of their efforts to bring us in.” Senior Deniero said again.
Marnie and Barbara sat in the bumpy van staring at one individual after another until the van stopped and they were led into a magistrate’s office. Senior Deniero and the plane’s crew were led off to another office. As they were parted in the hall, Senior Deniero yelled to them, “Don’t tell them anything!”
The magistrate asked them about their relationship to the Deniero family, what they were doing on their plane, why Marnie was seen carrying a package of contraband onboard the plane, and so forth. Marnie’s response to the barely understood questions was, “In our country, we are allowed to have an advocate present when we are questioned like this. Is there someone who can speak for us, please?”
The magistrate got on the phone and made a call. Marnie and Barbara couldn’t understand much of what he said, because he spoke too fast. They did make out their names being mentioned, however, as they were read from their passports. The magistrate stood up with his cigarette. He had a mustache, a ruddy, greasy complexion, and a big round gut. He came from around his desk, said some words to the two gendarmes attending the ladies and walked around them, looking them up and down. The ladies felt vulnerable, not knowing the legal customs, the language, nor their chances of communicating the truth so they could be let go. Their hands were still cuffed, even though they posed no threat. The magistrate touched Barbara’s hair, rubbing a curl between his thumb and forefinger. He tilted Marnie’s face up by her chin to gaze into her blue eyes, until she turned defiantly away. Then he leaned his ample butt up against the front of his desk facing them, as he finished his cigarette.
After another ten minutes of the magistrate looking them up and down from his perch, talking to his men, in walked a twenty-something year old man in a suit. He was introduced to the ladies as Glen Luftcat, a consular agent. He began talking to the magistrate in French, as he shook his hand, then in English he said, “Really Monsieur Groschien, these ladies are not a risk to your men. Can we have these cuffs removed, s’il vous plait?”
The ladies were relieved that the handcuffs were off and rubbed around their wrists to get the circulation running again. “Now, can I have a moment with them, s’il vous plait?” Monsieur Groschien waved his men over to the windows for a small conference while Mr. Luftcat took the magistrate’s place at the front edge of the desk.
The two ladies poured out their story in stereo. Mr. Luftcat did his best to follow it without asking them to tell it one at a time. Then for their benefit, he began explaining the situation to the magistrate in English. Monsieur Groschien spoke back in French. Mr. Luftcat had to ask, “So, you two had never met Senior Deniero, the father, before several hours ago?”