Blondie's Humiliation Stories

For Age 18+ Only.
Lease this WebApp and get rid of the ads.
Chapter 9: No Day at the Beach
Sun Feb 10, 2008 8:06am
71.202.144.81

A Most Embarrassing Drive Home

I finally reached my car. In my haste I fumbled with the lock and dropped the keys on the ground a couple of times. Once I got the door open, I sat down behind the wheel, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

But my torment wasn’t completely over, for sitting in the passenger seat was my sister Becky, smiling at me devilishly. She had used her key to open the door to our parents’ car. “Well what are you waiting for, sweetie, take me home,” she taunted.

“Becky, please, do you have my trunks?” I pleaded.

“I sure do, brother dear—or should I say ‘sister dear?’” She giggled to herself. “If you’re nice to me on the way home, maybe I’ll give them to you before you go in the house. I think Mom’s home; she’d love to see you like that. I think she always wanted another daughter.” Becky again giggled. She was in her glory.

Then Mitch came up to Becky’s open window and said, “See you girls around.” He laughed and started to walk away before turning back to Becky. “Make sure he doesn’t take his top off until you get home.”

“That’s the plan,” grinned Becky.

My mortification continued on the ride home. I felt so ridiculous in the swimsuit. Becky, of course, did all she could to enhance my feeling of humiliation. It seemed like she never took her eyes off me, and occasionally I would steal a glance at her to catch her grinning, and obviously enjoying herself immensely. I’m sure she felt vindicated from the time I walked in on her while she was in the bathtub. At one point she reached over and ran her hand up my leg. “When was the last time you shaved your legs?” she teased. “Maybe you should do that when you get home.” I flinched, praying to myself that she wouldn’t follow through with that disturbing notion. I had finally sprouted some hair on my body, and the thought of losing it was very unsettling.

When we stopped at a stoplight I ducked down, fearing the two people in the car next to me would see my attire. This was not lost on Becky. “Sit up straight, Blondie, or I’ll have you get out of the car and model for everyone.” She didn’t have to tell me twice. I sat up, staring straight ahead, my face flushing brightly. I glanced to my left, and fortunately the twosome in the car were too engaged in conversation to notice me.


The Gas Station

But I was about to have more serious concerns. Becky leaned towards me to look at the gas gauge. “Oh,” she said. “We’re getting low on gas. You’d better pull in to the next station.”

A feeling of trepidation swept over me. “N-No, I think we’re okay. Please, let’s just go home.”

“Nonsense, dear bro. It would be inconsiderate to give Mom and Dad the car back with an empty tank. Here, pull into this Fast Gas up ahead.” I looked at my devilish sister. I could tell by the grin of anticipation on her face that she had no intention of letting me off the hook. Reluctantly I pulled into the station and up to an unoccupied pump. I looked at her pleadingly. “Well what are you waiting for?” she asked with an impish grin on her face. She held out our parents’ credit card. “Get out there and fill it up.” I knew any defiance would only serve to exacerbate my sorry situation. I took the card from her hand and looked around anxiously. At the moment there was nobody else pumping gas. The sooner I got it over with the better.

“Oh, God,” I cried as I bolted from the car. Hurriedly I inserted the card into the slot. Much to my dismay a car pulled up on the opposite side of the pump. “Oh shit!” I exclaimed aloud as I clumsily shoved the pump into the receptacle. I took a nervous, furtive glance behind me. A young, fairly plump brunette woman who appeared to be in her early twenties was getting out of her car. And, to further my anxiety, I noticed another young female in the passenger seat. Initially, neither one of them noticed me, but I knew it would only be a matter of time before they did. My best bet was to sit in the car until the gas was finished pumping. I scrambled to the door, but just as I was about to open it the devious Becky hit the lock button. She sat laughing at me while I frantically knocked on the window. “Please, Becky, let me in!” I screamed. Of course, that only succeeded in attracting attention to myself.

“Hey Tina, you’ve gotta check this out!” I heard the brunette say. Moments later I heard the passenger door open.

“Oh, how darling!” came another voice. I looked over to see another heavy-set woman with purple streaks through her hair. “Hey, that’s a lovely swimsuit,” she said to me. “And such a pretty girl. Hey, do you want to join us for a threesome, sweetheart?” Great, I thought. Now I have a couple of dykes harassing me. I ignored them as best I could, and I hastily pulled out the gas pump and replaced it in its holder while the two women laughed freely. My face felt like it was on fire.

“Oh, she’s playing hard to get,” laughed the brunette.

I dashed to the door and feverishly pulled at the handle. “Please, Becky, let me in, you ...ing bitch!” I screamed while banging furiously on the window.

That was a mistake. Becky calmly opened her purse and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. She leaned over and lowered the electric window on the driver’s side just wide enough to slip it through. “Not until you buy me a diet-coke,” she said with a wry grin.

“Oh, shit, no! Please, Becky, I’m sorry. Please let me in! I apologize!” I screamed, ignoring the money.

Becky didn’t budge. “Buy me some tampons, too,” she said.

“Oh, God!” I cried as I snatched the bill from her grasp. I scampered past the two women (who now were in the throes of hysterical laughter) and into the convenience shop. A young, pretty African-American girl was behind the counter. Needless to say, she was quite amused when I came running in. Her jaw dropped in astonishment before she broke into a wide grin. I ran past the counter, straight to the refrigerator and grabbed a diet-coke. I knew I wouldn’t be allowed back in the car without the second part of Becky’s order, and I had no idea where to look. “Where are your tampons?” I called out breathlessly.

The girl could not hold back any longer, and broke into convulsive laughter. She tried to speak, but was unintelligible through her giddiness. She pointed to the aisle next to me while holding her stomach. It was another excruciating minute before I found them. I ran to the counter and slapped the ten-dollar bill down. “Keep the change!” I shouted, but then thought better of it and turned back to her. “I’d better get the change.” Throughout the exchange, the girl never stopped laughing, and never said a word. Hell, she was probably flabbergasted. She looked me up and down, handed me my change, and I scurried out to the sound of her energetic laughter.

The two women were waiting for me when I came out. They greeted me with more laughter, and one of them threw in a wolf whistle for good measure. Blushing crimson, I dashed past them; I couldn’t get to the car fast enough. Mercifully, Becky let me in and I dropped her purchase and her change on the floor at her feet before speeding out of the station like there was no tomorrow. Becky was laughing uncontrollably. “Oh, Blondie, that was a riot! Wait ‘till Brenda and the gang hear about this!”

I drove on, still breathing heavily. We made it the rest of the way home without incident. When we pulled into the garage I looked at Becky imploringly. To my relief, she reached into her bag and tossed me my swimming trunks and towel. She got out of the car and peered back in through the window, looking me in the eye and leaving me with a parting shot. “Your ass is mine now, Blondie.”

As I stripped off her bathing suit and changed into my own, I considered what I had just heard. To my dismay, I recognized that indeed, it was oh, so true.

  • Chapter 9: No Day at the BeachBlondie., Sun Feb 10 8:06am
    Starting Puberty I’ve now completed my third year at Roosevelt High. The one positive is that at least physically I’m finally showing the beginnings of maturity. I’m a few inches... more
    • Chapter 9: No Day at the Beach — Blondie., Sun Feb 10 8:06am
Click here to receive daily updates
You won't be getting your clothes back until you dance naked for us.