Poisoned Poison Ivy

Amy and Sandy sat on the floor and listened intently.

The redhead now spoke. "As my friend stated, many are not Indians...Indigenous Americans. I am white as you. As are some of my children."

One of the Indigenous American women stood and faced the girls. The small lighter triangles on her breasts, cunt and ass meant she obviously wore bikinis or something similar in years past. "Speak for thee and not me. I am Cherokee and Seminole. I grew up in Miami. My white "parents" adopted me as a baby. I never knew my real...biological parents. After some research I found my adoption papers and began the journey home. I much prefer the simple garments of my ancestors to the uncomfortable and sometimes very expensive modern fashions."

Neither Amy or Sandy ever had anyone confront them with such information. Both did everything possible to hide the dreaded epithets--Injun, Redskin and worse now almost boiling in their hidden vocabularies.

The older woman with red hair made a throat clearing noise while standing in profile. Her large saggy breasts with long nipples above a pooched tummy proved she was somebody's mother. Yet there was nary a mark, scar or tan line on her fair-skinned body. What she said next was definitely unexpected. "Look at me. My eyes are blue. My hair is reddish and like my friends, much longer than yours. Please don't stare or envy me. I enjoy the sun. Said another way, I am, we are naturists...nudists...those who prefer being as Nature intended, without clothes. As you can see there are no lines or marks on this body."

She stopped for a moment, took a few deep breaths then held her breasts horizontally. "These fed my five babies and a few others." After letting her breasts down she gently rubbed her tummy. "This little pooch is my sixth. I think that's enough. Anyway, welcome to our tribe."

Amy and Sandy were stunned.

"Didn't Gennessee explain this to you?"

Amy and Sandy slowly shook their heads 'no.'

"Don't worry you'll enjoy life here."

"It's actually rather nice never worrying about clothes. Well, that's not quite true. In cold weather we do wear clothes and shoes. Once a month I'll stuff my tits into a bra and squeeze my buns into panties then put on enough clothes so I can go shopping. Otherwise I am free as a... I'm free!"

"You can't be serious?"

"As a heart attack."

"Why fight the rat race? Many doctors have documented the horrors of modern life and undergarments on women."

Sandy spoke emphatically. "I need clothes! My 36DD breasts need support! I need bras and panties!"

The pregnant woman chimed in. "Relax, I...many of us have big tits. I can guarantee being free...braless, is very comfortable even when these are heavy with milk."

"I honestly thought you were one of us."

"Why did you make that assumption?"

Even the normally unflappable Amy was showing anger and frustration. "I never agreed to any of this!"

Sandy shouted. "This is the first and only time I've ever gone anywhere without a bra and panties!"

All four women looked at her with the disdain reserved for liars. With innuendo and double entendre obvious one of the naked women asked, "Either of you ever plant a seed? I mean real seeds like tomatoes, corn or beans?"             

Both sighed with relief at her words.

One of the girls replied while flexing her hands. "No. I'm not a farmer. Not even a gardener. I'm missing a green thumb."

"Honey, we thrive! Look at us. We are happy and healthy. Our children are safe, healthy and educated. We have three schools on our reservation...homeland."

"Actually, we have four schools if you count our nursery and pre-k programs."               "We have a medical clinic, schools and police. The tribal council is our government. The state and county rarely bothers us."

"We grow all our food."

"You sound like a bunch of hippies."

"The old mantra, 'Make love not war' sure beats the violence, crime and corruption out there."

"Who are you to criticize me? You're just a bunch of naked bitchy women fucking and breeding like..."

Gennessee to the rescue. "Enough! No need to exchange insults. No one here is perfect. We all have our faults and blessings."

Without another word, the four women grabbed their clothes, hurriedly dressed and left. With her usual terse manner Gennessee spoke. "Okay girls, time for another chat. Did Annya, Fire Head, Funny Marks and Raven Hair welcome you to the tribe?"

"They said we were one of them now."

Like the previous conversation, this was reconstructed much later. Although the basic intent of the words is correct the exactness may be suspect.

Gennessee tersely spoke. "You are indeed one of us. That means you must do your best to live and dress like us."

"Meaning?"

"You each have a suitcase full of new clothes. We took all your old clothes."

"What! How dare you steal my clothes!"

"No way am I going to class...anywhere naked like this!"

"We could get arrested for indecent exposure."

"Why? You've been naked, at least braless the entire weekend."

"Not me. Until today...yesterday I've never gone anywhere without panties and a bra, a very strong and expensive bra I might add. My 36DD breasts need support."

"Everyone here shas seen your big tits and nipples many times. You're not the only nude woman with big tits. Try thinking what women did years ago before bras were invented."

"I'd rather not. And I'm not some whoring porno queen selling her tits on the street and internet."

"I didn't say you were. Just for the record, I've never paid you a penny. Everything you've done is voluntary." Gennessee paused for a moment. "Now answer this: Are you afraid of your body? Afraid someone will see your body?"

"No!"

"My my, someone is angry. Nude is natural. We were made to be naked. Bras, panties and similar garments are new inventions. The damn things can cause infections and other problems."

"Stop! Would it really change anything if we wore panties and bras?"

"Okay, I'll make you a deal. I'll let you wear bras and panties but you must wear the clothes given. I mean only the clothes given!" Gennessee knew their pregnant bodies would soon outgrow their old clothes. From experience she knew their current undergarments would soon be much too small. She also knew getting clothes to fit a pregnant body was difficult and expensive. In other words, Gennessee would let Nature force them to change.

"If we don't?"

"I'd say go naked. But there are other methods I'd rather not use."

Amy and Sandy knew they were defeated.

By noon the skies were dark and foreboding. All their books, computers and other possessions were in the car. Drizzly rain made everything cold and wet. Both girls now wore one of their new beigy-white cotton skirts and a serape. Sandy, ever the worrywart, took no chances and kept her arms tight to the chest. No doubt, Sandy bought panties, camisoles and slips at the first opportunity.

While sitting in the car and adjusting all the creature comforts---radio, seats, mirrors and temperature controls, they noticed a big farm tractor with a plow parked near that infamous patch of poison ivy. A flatbed truck with several barrels marked "Sulfuric Acid, H₂SO₄" and "Sulfurous Acid H₂SO₃" was parked nearby. Both had taken enough science and chemistry classes to know if mixed in equal molar quantities fuming sulfuric acid would reduce almost anything to its chemical elements. When a large open-topped tank trailer pulled in both became misty eyed and shivered.

Gennessee stood by the car and tapped the driver's side window. "Remember, you are one of us now. Call me with the test results. I'll see you in December."

******

The clerk went into his office and sabotaged every computer, camera and microphone. Every image and video he wanted was safely stored in the cloud. All others were electronically shredded. When done he shook hands with those indigenous men then drove away singing Monday Monday as written by John Phillips and sung by the Mamas and Papas.

Monday mornin' couldn't guarantee

That Monday evenin' you would still be here with me

Monday, Monday, can't trust that day

Oh Monday mornin' you gave me no warnin' of what was to be

Oh Monday, Monday, how could you leave and not take me

Every other day, every other day

Every other day of the week is fine, yeah

But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes

A-you can find me cryin' all of the time

******

The first night of his new life was spent down the road in a nice motel.

Amy and Sandy returned to school and soon found a small 2 bedroom house to rent near campus. Ronnie's and Charlie's demise was explained in carefully prepared documents given to their parents and university administrators. Neither Amy or Sandy went home for the Thanksgiving Holiday. Both were seriously afflicted with "morning sickness." They did go home for their winter or Christmas Holiday. By that time none of their undergarments fit. Amy now wore...tried wearing a 36C bra but rarely did because her nipples and breasts were extremely sensitive. Sandy had similar problems and for a while struggled with 38DDD bras. When 40 whatever felt uncomfortable she got the message and remained braless. Their new clothes stimulated many conversations.

Upon graduation in May both were hired by the tribal school system and lived on the Nice River Reservation. In July they delivered fraternal twins. Amy went into labor on July 1^st. Ronisha was the perfect feminine reincarnation of Ronnie. Charlotte was all that for Charlie. Chantelle was Sandy's new "Charlie." Ronnell was her version of Ronnie. Both born but a few minutes apart on July 14^th, Bastille Day to the French and Nude Day to others desiring to enjoy freedom. Amy breastfed her babies for two years. Sandy did the same and occasionally helped Amy.

Thank you for reading my story. Comments, praise and votes are appreciated.

Maria, Bordelon