tagMind ControlSuch Stuff Ch. 14

Such Stuff Ch. 14

byDrmaxc©

Part 14
The Strawberry Game



"Strawberries," said Conrad, "I love strawberries. And you know, ladies, what the best way is to eat strawberries?"

There was a lot of giggling from the girls.

"Do you Lizzie? How do you like your strawberries?"

Lizzie said nothing.

"Go on, Lizzie, answer us."

"With cream." replied Lizzie crossly.

There was raucous laughter all round.

"Go on, show her Mallow," said Conrad.

A girl with the most gorgeous coffee coloured skin was sitting with her knees drawn up under her chin. She was still completely naked following her swim, apart from a daisy chain she had made and tied around her waist. She looked up as her name was called and gave a great grin. She reached out, picked a large strawberry from the bowl and removed the green calyx before slowly opening her knees. Lizzie could not help but notice the very dark shad­ing to the very edges of her intimate lips, the coffee colouring becoming very much darker, black almost, at the edges. Lizzie was not, of course, interested in girls sexually except perhaps her sister in Oz, the Green Maiden, but that was only a dream and dreams are uncontrolled and one can find oneself doing things that in reality one would not dream of doing. But the movement of the girl's knees had drawn her eyes. The knees went wider apart and the flower of the Mallow's sex opened. Lizzie's eyes flicked away in embarrassment but caught Mallow's eye. Mallow grinned at Lizzie and then looked at the strawber­ry in her hand. Lizzie's eyes followed to the strawberry and then watched it as Mallow slowly moved it down between her legs and pushed it into herself. There it was a bright red strawberry, all dotted about with seeds, sticking out of Mallow, framed by the scalloped black lips edges and the beautiful coffee covered skin. It looked almost appealing—if you like that sort of thing, Lizzie thought.

"Your turn next Lizzie," said Conrad.

"This is the best bit," said Mallow as Conrad bent forward between her thighs and evidently nibbled at the fruit before extracting the rest with his tongue and consuming it with relish. Mallow squirmed a bit and reached for another strawberry.

"No, greedy girl, it is Miss Lizzie's turn."

But Lizzie clamped her thighs together and looked crossly at Conrad.

"No. I don't want to."

"There is a lot you seem not to want to do," said Conrad looking dis­pleased. "Any more of this wilful behaviour and I shall have to chastise. I shall punish you."

There was a lot of head nodding. Mallow said, "Go on, it's fun and began to pull Lizzie knees apart. No sooner open than the result of Lizzie's visit to Heartful became apparent. A trickle of white semen was escaping from her to run down and into her bottom cheeks. "Look," laughed Mallow, "she's already found the cream," and she pushed a strawberry easily into Lizzie before the surprised girl could protest. "She must have been visiting the Heartful Bodger!"

The other girls giggled at this. They had each paid more than one visit to the camp in the woods to try out various items and, of course, to buy and pay for them.

"Let me see!" said another and before Lizzie knew what to do she found her sex the object of attention of several of the girls with their hands on her thighs or knees.

"Please," she said, "I..." But she got no further. Mallow had dropped down between her thighs and was eating the strawberry. She could feel lips and tongue on her recently used sex.

Lizzie looked a little wildly around and Conrad caught her eye, "I think Mallow likes her fruit with cream just like you do. For myself, I prefer the fruit without." He grinned at Lizzie. "Perhaps I shall replenish your store of cream later this afternoon."

"No."

Lizzie pushed Mallow and the others away and got up. She went over to her boat and pulled her dress on before getting in and with folded arms sat staring out into the river away from the picnic party. Conrad watched her go and frowned.

The onward procession on down the river was a jolly affair accompanied by much merriment and singing. Everyone was in good spirits apart, of course, from one person who sat with a palpable aurora of disapproval and gloom, arms folded in front of her and unfocused eyes staring into space.

The boats rowed on past more pretty countryside until they approached a village and even Lizzie had to admit to herself that it was a picturesque sight, grass ran down the hill to the river in front of the village of stone built cottages with windows peaking out from under thatched roofs and tall chimneys rising up well above the thatch. The boats docked alongside a wooden jetty and the party disembarked.

"Lizzie, time for some shopping, sightseeing and perhaps afternoon tea—I know just the place," said Conrad putting his arm around Lizzie's shoulder,

Lizzie shook him off and pushed him away.

Conrad looked really angry and all the party went silent. "You were warned! To the stocks with her."

Before Lizzie really knew what was happening she was grabbed and marched up to a set of stocks, her dress removed, the bar opened, her head and hands placed firmly in place, the bar lowered and she was stuck bent for­ward with her head protruding through the hole in the wood, her hands either side of her face, her feet supporting her at the back and her bottom sticking out.

"Let me out," screamed Lizzie.

"You were warned," said Conrad and he and the boating party walked up towards the village leaving Lizzie stuck. There was nothing she could do. She was completely helpless, head and shoulders out one side of the stocks: body the other.

Lizzie, angry, frustrated and cross, watched her boating companions walk up the grass to the village.

"You shouldn't have annoyed him, it's your own fault, Lizzie Sherrell, he does not like to be gainsaid. He is the writer, remember."

Lizzie's eyes flashed around but she could see no one, though she knew the voice. It seemed to be coming from above her, "I don't like him, which is not to say I don't like the others and where are you, Robin?"

A pair of small legs came into view as Puck sat next to her on the top of the stocks. "And what about me, do you like me?"

"I'm not sure about you, especially after what you did to me in the gar­den."

"Ho, ho, that was most certainly a jape, you tumbling down in the storm, then me tumbling you! And look at you now, what could you do to resist me in your present predicament?"

Out of the corner of Lizzie's eye she could see Puck's cock rising from be­tween his two little legs, a penis completely out of proportion to his body, "Your sweet bottom so exposed, so round and white, so vulnerable, ho, ho, so ripe for the plucking or should I say..."

"You leave me alone Robin Goodfellow," shouted Lizzie.

"As if a little fellow like me could reach so high!"

Lizzie heard the little man jump down and walk behind her.

"But, Lizzie I can touch," and Lizzie felt the touch of little hands on her thighs, "and I can tickle," and Lizzie felt her intimate areas being stroked, "but I am not even tall enough to lick, let alone... but you know what the Writer will do when he comes back don't you Lizzie? He will have his way with you, ho, ho, oh yes he will."

The little man came round the front and looked up at Lizzie, "Never mind, it's just a bit of fun, no harm in it at all. Why, it happens all the time here," he looked slyly up at Lizzie, "didn't it happen to you this morning in the wood, in a hut or am I mistaken?" His outsize cock still stood proud. "It's a pity I can't reach, though," his grin broadened, "perhaps I could fetch a box to stand on." He walked away towards the village still laughing.

Lizzie stood in the stocks for what seemed an age, it was hot and the sweat trickled down her. She'd tried pulling and pushing but could not release her hands let alone her head. There was nothing for her to do but uncomfort­ably wait.

Eventually back down the green came the boating expedition led, of course, by Conrad now wearing a yellow and black striped blazer and match­ing cricketing cap. It would have looked quite dashing with cream flannels but he was not wearing trousers. Lizzie watched the party getting closer and in par­ticular she watched Conrad's cock which poked, out as he walked, between the sides of his blazer. As he got closer it began to lengthen and Lizzie knew that Puck's warning had been accurately made.

"Well, well, what have we here. A naughty girl to be punished. She must be a naughty girl or she wouldn't be in the stocks would she?"

The others nodded their heads.

"Now what do we do to naughty girls? Do we smack their bottoms hard? Do we pelt them with tomatoes?" There was a nodding of heads. Conrad smirked at Lizzie and walked round behind her and she felt his hands on her hips. "Or do we do something else?" The touch of his hands on her bottom was unwelcome, though not unexpected, and still made her jump. "Well what have we here? A nice round bottom and in the middle, just down here we have..." His thumb slowly made its way down from the small of Lizzie's back into the divide and stroked her rubbery bottom hole, "Do naughty girls have this little rosebud penetrated? Do they Lizzie? Shall I help with a little butter—the best butter of course!" Conrad laughed and the thumb continued to rub. Lizzie wriggled and tried to kick but it was difficult. Conrad could see what she was doing, she was kicking blind, and he could avoid her attempts. "Naughty girl, this is a punishment meant to make you see the error of your wilful ways not to encourage you into further misdemeanours."

There was a sharp slap on her rump—it hurt.

"Ow!" said Lizzie, "don't do that, I haven't done anything wrong."

Conrad came round to the front of Lizzie again, his penis now fully extend­ed. "But of course you have—and you know it. Begin!"

From paper bags many of the party took out tomatoes, rather over ripe ones and began pelting Lizzie, splat next to her on the wood, splat in her hair, splat on her face. Try as she could, turning her face this way and that, she could not avoid them and soon her face was running with tomato juice, her hair thick with seeds and tomato pulp. She felt another slap on her bottom and her legs being pulled apart by hands on the soft inside of each thigh. Before she could react, Conrad, or at least she assumed it was he as he had gone back behind the stocks, pushed his cock into her vagina and his hands came under­neath her to grasp her breasts. There was nothing she could do to stop this as­sault.

"Lovely, Lizzie, just lovely. Now why didn't you let me do this earlier rather than you having to suffer all this indignity? What a soft bottom you have—so pleasant to push against."

Her breasts were squeezed as Conrad pushed to and fro. To the front of her the tomatoes kept coming with impressive accuracy. Which would come first: the last of the tomatoes or Conrad? It was a close call.

"Would anybody else like to remind Lizzie that she should not be a wilful girl?" asked Conrad still embedded.

"Me, me, me," shouted brown Mallow jumping up and down, "may I try her with strawberries? I have bought some more in the village."

"Alas I cannot," said the Chevalier, "c'est ne pas possible, too much exer­cise earlier and, it is likely my fellows, les autres, will feel the same, certaine­ment, I would not wish to presume where Miss Lizzie does not wish. I, for one, would not have put her in the stocks."

Lizzie had already noted the Chevalier had not been amongst the tomato hurlers and she warmed further to him. He did not seem to be Conrad's poo­dle.

The other men of the party shook their heads; there was not any stirring to indicate capability amongst them.

Mallow moved quickly round behind Lizzie and she felt Mallow's fingers between her thighs encircling Conrad's wilting cock and pulling it from her. There was a sucking sound.

"Most kind Mallow, most kind. You behave quite properly unlike this naughty girl. Let me hold these legs whilst you enjoy your strawberries."

And so Lizzie was held whilst strawberry after strawberry was inserted into her and slowly extracted by Mallow's ready tongue. Unlike the pelting and the forceful actions of Conrad it was not unpleasant and Lizzie could imagine after a good bout with the right man it would actually be pleasant to lie on her back, not imprisoned at an uncomfortable angle in the stocks, and have pretty Mallow play her strawberry game.

The Chevalier released poor Lizzie from the stocks. "Come let me take you down to the river to bathe. I fear you really are a bit of a mess."

And so, indeed, she was with tomato pulp all over her face, hair and shoul­ders and hints of sticky strawberry juice running down her thighs.

She sat in silence in the boat as Conrad rowed back to the house. It was an uneventful journey in the late afternoon sunshine. The small flotilla of boats moored and the party alighted. Conrad looked at Lizzie expectantly,

"Did you enjoy your day on the river, Lizzie?"

"It had its moments," said Lizzie crossly looking around at the party.

From the pocket of his blazer Conrad took his beautiful yellow pen and made to write, but stopped, "no, you read." Lizzie was about to refuse but her curiosity got the better of her.

Lizzie read,

The time in the stocks had quite messed Lizzie, gone was the poise of the morning: it was a contrite and sorry Lizzie who addressed Worrity down by the river.

"Now did I write that first or second? Before you were disobedient or after? Which comes first the action or the pen and book? There is the puzzle for you Lizzie. Do I move you or do you move yourself? Don't be worried. Be a good girl and you will be happy. Be a bad girl and you will be punished."

Conrad's pompous voice irritated Lizzie almost beyond measure, yet when she looked around the others were nodding in agreement.

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