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Click here*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
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'No early birds' the ad for the garage sale claimed. The hours posted were from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon on that Saturday.
Becky Gardner made a note of the address; it was just two blocks south of her Sweet Oak, Texas trailer. She carefully plotted out her Saturday's battle plan, then looked around to make sure no one was paying any attention to her.
The on-line Connelly College newspaper was not blocked from the high school library's Internet search. But, still, Becky didn't want anyone seeing her as she clicked on the 'Personals' section.
She made a quick search of the men looking for women. There had been no new ads posted since yesterday so she quickly exited out of that web page. Then, with another look around, she let out her breath then closed that site. The Oakleaf Dispatch did not have any new listings for estate sales or garage sales. The bell rang and Becky shut off the library's computer and grabbed her books.
The ad had said 'no early birds' but at six thirty, there were already some women, some hard-core shoppers waiting. Because she knew Ms. Stanton, Becky offered to help the woman and her two daughters set everything out. This helpful ploy gave Becky a first-hand look at what the neighbor had to offer.
"You, Jamie, you selling that?" Becky gasped, seeing a beautiful black suede jacket among the clothing.
"Uh huh," Jamie shrugged. Don't fit. Oh, and them boots."
"What size are they?" Becky asked, looking at the black suede thigh high boots with their five inch stiletto heels.
"Um, eight, no, no, eight and a half," Jamie said.
"Hold them for me?" Becky begged as she helped Ms. Stanton lug the heavy table from garage to driveway.
Becky bought both jacket and boots, along with several books and DVDs and CDs. Securely locking everything in the trunk of her Nissan, Becky hurried to the next garage sale on her list.
Arriving home at three o'clock, Becky fixed herself a late lunch, early dinner. Then she catalogued everything she'd managed to buy.
"I swear to God, some people just don't know what they got," Becky declared, looking at the tool box she'd bought at the last garage sale of the day.
Inside of the tool box was a set of six different clamps; they looked more like pliers. And, in the top two trays of the tool box were various hoops and barbells. Most were silver, there were a few surgical steel rings, and the real find; there were five sets of gold rings. Becky had managed to walk off with the box for just fifty dollars.
"Hmm," Becky mused, looking at the large silver hoops that had large silver hearts dangling from them.
She absently ran a fingertip around her large light brown areole as she looked at some of the other selections, but her eyes kept wandering back to the silver heart. She puzzled over the third, smaller ring with the dangling heart.
"Ooooh!" she gasped, realizing it was intended for the clitoris.
"Hi Becky Baby," Uncle David smiled from the doorway of her bedroom.
"Hey," Becky smiled up from her inventory list.
"So, anything good?" David Brown asked, looking at the piles strategically placed around her room.
David listened as Becky gave a breathless run-down of her finds for the day. The toolbox and body piercing implements made him wince.
"Pierce...no thank you. Oh, hey, um, Stewie? He, uh, he's coming over? You do that ginger chicken? Please, pretty please, you'll be my favorite niece in the whole wide world," David wheedled.
"OMG you whiney little girl; yes, all right?" Becky said, getting to her feet.
"Thank you," David giggled.
If Stewie appreciated David's efforts or Becky's cooking, he said nothing. To be sociable, Becky ate a small salad; she'd eaten a late lunch just two hours earlier.
In her room, Becky closed the door and played a Bonnie Tyler cd she'd bought that afternoon. She tried to tune out the gasps and grunts and squeals that came from Uncle David's room, tried not to think of what the two men were doing. But the rhythmic sounds of flesh slapping flesh, the rhythmic squeaks and grunts of the bedsprings tended to carry remarkably well through the thin paneled walls of the trailer.
Becky again opened the toolbox, looked at the silver hoop with heart dangle and made a rash decision.
"Leaving her bedroom and hurrying to the hall bathroom, Becky searched for and found the bottle of rubbing alcohol and the small bottle of mercurochrome. The unmistakable odor of marijuana smoke wafted from Uncle David's room. Becky hurried back to her room before the next bout of sexual frenzy began.
On one previous garage sale foray, Becky had managed to pick up a fairly new laptop computer. On another expedition, she'd found a camcorder, still in the box, and an adjustable tripod. The woman laughed bitterly that her husband thought he'd be the next Steven Spielberg but kept coming up with excuse after excuse why he hadn't even opened the damned box yet. That same morning, Becky bought an electrolysis machine, slightly used.
That weekend, Uncle David had been on a camping trip with Melvin; Becky wished he'd get back together with Melvin. She liked the big, hairy affable clown; he made Becky laugh and seemed to delight in making Becky laugh.
Knowing she had the trailer to herself, not that Uncle David ever minded what she was doing, Becky set up the camera and hooked it to her laptop. She set up the laptop directly behind the camera so she could monitor what the camera was seeing. She especially made sure her face was not in view.
"Hi; my last boyfriend complained that my pussy was too hairy. I thought about either shaving it or waxing it, but the problem with those methods is, when the hair grows back, it itches. Now, my best friend Jory shaved her beaver and it just looks so good, so I decided I wanted a nice smooth pussy too. But, who wants to shave every two or three days?"
Becky detailed, step by step what she was doing. At the very top of her slit, she'd glued a paper cutout of a heart and used the electrolysis machine to clean the area around her anus, then her crotch. The original video was nearly three hours long and in truth, Becky had almost quit several times during the slow, laborious and uncomfortable procedure.
In the shower, the paper heart disintegrated and Becky used a pair of scissors to hack the clumps of hair that still had the glue stuck and wadded to them. The end result was a brown heart that heralded the beginning of her slit.
Editing the video down to twenty minutes, Becky posted it onto her personal domain. Her Facebook page and Twitter account gave the link to her private domain and a thirty second clip played, allowing visitors to see her crotch and hear Becky's explanation right before the hair removal began. To see the finished product, the visitor had to pay $2.99 to Becky's PayPal account.
Setting up the camera again, Becky was mindful of keeping her face out of the camera's field. She found a disposable mask, wrote the domain name on the front of the mask and put it on over her lower face. Large sunglasses obscured her upper face, should she accidentally bend, bringing her face into view. Becky even put her long brown hair on top of her head in a tight bun. She knew she could edit her face out of the frame before posting the video, but minimizing the chance of exposure also minimized the amount of work she would have to do later.
A little nudge here, and a slight swivel there and Becky used the hand-held remote to zoom in on her left breast.
Typing rapidly, Becky brought up the still image of her mostly hairless crotch. Pressing 'record' Becky reminded her followers that she loved hearts. She then pixelated the screen until the camera now showed her half dollar sized areole and fat nipple.
"...so, when I found these silver hoops with sterling silver hearts, I just knew I had to have them," Becky continued her narration.
Becky described what she was doing to prepare the area for piercing. Several times, she zoomed in to show her viewers precisely what she was doing.
Becky did not bother trying to disguise her squeal of pain as the clamp drove the silver hoop through her rock hard nipple. She did not hide her whistle of pain as she dabbed the wound with the mercurochrome.
Catching her breath, Becky then positioned the camera to focus on her right breast. She repeated the process, again, detailing step by step what she was doing.
The last portion of this video, she zoomed out to show both breasts with their new hoops and heart dangles. Then, she turned off the camera.
Becky removed her mask and sunglasses. Then she pulled a half-shirt on, covering her breasts. She only wore the half-shirt in the privacy of her room; she believed herself to be fat and hated exposing her belly to anyone, even her Uncle David and his guests.
Becky was not surprised to find that her panties were soaked. A quick rub produced a very satisfying, shuddering orgasm.
"Hi. If you watched my previous video, you saw me piercing my nipples. If you haven't seen it, what are you waiting for?" Becky began the next video.
Again using the hand-held remote, Becky first showed her pubic mound with cute little furry heart. She zoomed in close, bringing the camera to focus on her pussy, toward the top of the cleft.
Becky showed the small silver hoop with heart dangle, showed her preparing her clitoris for the piercing.
Becky used one hand to pull her labia open. Then after cleaning the area with alcohol, Becky took a deep breath and brought the hoop and clamp to her clitoris.
"Oh Jesus God, mother fucker, God damn!" Becky grunted out in agony as she completed the process.
In reviewing the video later, Becky did notice the fine spray of clear fluid that escaped her pussy when the hoop pierced her flesh. She also noticed a second spray of clear fluid when she applied the stinging, burning antiseptic to the new wound.
Becky pulled on a pair of loose panties, her 'Granny Panties' and put everything away. As she gingerly walked from bedroom to bathroom, Becky couldn't help but giggle; she could feel the three heart dangles lightly bouncing against her flesh.
Returning to her room, Becky cleaned off the padded vinyl seat of her desk chair and returned it to her desk. Then she sat and began the laborious task of editing.
Thankfully, in the morning, Stewie had already left their trailer. Becky had to wear one of her old 'fatso' bras and decided to wear a skirt with no panties; her new piercings throbbed tremendously.
Becky made herself a light breakfast; she'd already whittled twelve pounds from her five foot four inch frame simply by paying attention to what she ate. Then, she returned to the previous day's garage sales. Sometimes, after the first day, those people discovered some other items they'd intended to put out, but passed over. Her diligence paid off; she found some adorable porcelain knick-knacks at one sale, some more clothing at the Stanton sale, including some FMPs still in their box and some leather shorts and a leather bomber jacket.
"Yeah, tried it on last night," Jamie wistfully admitted.
"You know, Jamie, you just watch what you eat..." Becky started to say, but the obese girl stomped away in a huff.
"Don't bother," Mrs. Stanton snapped, glaring at the retreating form of her daughter. "Think I haven't told her the same damned thing?"
"Yeah, the next Eddie Van Halen's up in his room pouting," a mother told Becky at the next garage sale. Came home last night high on meth; I'm not paying fifty dollars a lesson just to have him doing that shit. I'm one bought the guitar; I'm the one can sell it."
Becky knew very little about guitars or amplifiers, but the Crate amplifier looked rugged and the Jackson Randy Rhodes model guitar looked dangerous.
By the time Becky returned to class on Monday morning, she'd already made twelve hundred dollars from her previous weekend's garage sales; she had no doubt this weekend's largesse would be even greater. Arriving at Lloyd M. Bentsen High School, Becky was grateful that graduation was only three weeks away. In just three short weeks, she'd be free of the cliques and rejects, free of foolish expectations and posturing.
She slogged through the day, her piercings never far from her mind. In Physical Education class, the coach brought out the dreaded volleyballs and Becky was tempted to use cramps as an excuse to get out of having to go outside and work up a sweat. Unfortunately, though, she had used that excuse last week, when it wasn't an excuse.
Sweat and constant friction had Becky on the verge of screaming, desperate for relief. Finally, the coach had her belly full of the whining and complaining and let the girls scurry back into the air conditioned gymnasium.
"Oh, holy fucking shit," Becky groaned, peeling her sticky panties and sodden bra away from her piercings.
The tepid spray of the locker room showers did nothing to help alleviate the dull throbbing pain in her breasts and crotch.
"That's it; I'm convinced Coach Simpson hates us," Jory White, Becky's best friend whined.
"Where you been all year?" another girl asked. "Shit, I figured that out the second day of class."
"I just didn't have proof until now," Jory admitted.
Arriving home, Becky saw that two people had gotten into a bidding war over the Randy Rhodes guitar. She was sure someone would be extremely upset when they realized they could have gone onto Amazon and bought the same guitar for two hundred dollars less than the current bid. But, she wasn't on EBay to help the next guitar god save money.
A generous finger of generic Neosporin helped reduce the pain in her nipples and clitoris. On camera, Becky talked about the pain she'd endured, laughing about how the volleyball game really aggravated an already uncomfortable situation. As this clip was two and a half minutes long, Becky let it be sold for ninety nine cents apiece.
Again checking her EBay profile, Becky started boxing up the items she'd managed to sell that day. David came in and helped Becky make dinner. After dinner, after homework, Becky searched on-line, hoping to find romance, or at least a good fuck buddy. At nine o'clock, Jory called to complain about Tim Knudsen, her boyfriend. Becky smiled, thinking of the pleasurable afternoon she and Tim had spent in this very bedroom. That had been roughly nine months earlier, but Becky still remembered the hot, sweaty, pleasurable afternoon; their first day of school.
Tim had claimed to be a virgin and Becky felt her pussy grow wet as she remembered teaching him how to eat pussy. She remembered teaching him how to fuck. Unlike many of the other boys, Tim had not complained about using a condom.
"I mean, God! Really? All he wants do is do me up the butt," Jory once again stated the source of her discontent with her handsome boyfriend.
"Uh huh," Becky said, wondering how it would feel, Tim's nice fat meat spearing her virgin ass.
"Know what? I, he was pretty good at, I, I bet anal would feel unbelievable," Becky thought as Jory continued her rambling, self-centered monologue.
And at ten thirty, Jory's mother demanded that Jory get off the phone and go to bed. Becky and Jory promised they'd be best friends forever and ended their conversation.
Lying in bed, Becky started to masturbate to thoughts of Tim taking her anal virginity. But, hunching her crotch against her pillow caused the piercing in her clitoris intense pain, Becky ceased. She lay in bed, thinking of Tim, thinking of sex with Tim. Becky found her thoughts gravitating toward Jory.
Jory and she were the same height, five four, they both had long brown hair and round faces. Jory had deep, chocolate brown eyes and an adorable dimple in her right cheek.
Jory's breasts were larger; Jory sported a 35DD chest and had a slimmer waist and slimmer hips. Becky thought her butt was too big and envied Jory her perfect heart shaped ass.
At school the following day, the pain in her nipples and her clitoris had faded slightly. Becky reminded herself, school and the pain were temporary. The pain of her piercings and the memories of the pain of high school would fade soon enough.
Arriving home, Becky was busy listing her latest purchases onto the EBay on-line store. Uncle David never came home; Becky wondered a little about this, but fixed herself a can of soup and a large bowl of fruit salad, then quickly did her homework before Jory's nightly phone call.
"Know what, Jory?" Becky interrupted Jory's complaints that night. "Tim's cute. He's got a job so he's got the bucks. You don't give up the booty? I bet someone else will."
"Someone like me," Becky thought, the fingers of her right hand lazily tracing around the clenched ring of her anus.
The feeling of her fingertip lightly tickling her anus was pleasurable. The feeling of her fingertip pressing against her resisting anus was pleasureable, and illicit.
Becky knew she and Jory claimed they'd be best friends forever, but graduation was looming near. Jory planned to go to Norwill University, in Norwill, Tennessee. And Jory looked down her nose at Becky because Becky had no plans to go to college.
"Shit, Jory, last year? Last year I made more than your momma and dad put together; what's college going do for me?" Becky sneered under her breath as Jory rambled on about herself.
Becky also knew Jory looked down her nose at Becky's trailer. The Whites lived in a small two bedroom bungalow with only one bathroom, but Jory sneered and said at least it wasn't a trailer. Jory outright mocked Tim for living in a trailer with his mom and his half-sister.
A few days before graduation, Becky tried on the leather shorts she'd bought from the Stanton garage sale. She whooped with delight; she'd lost a few more pounds and decided she really liked the way her ass looked in the leather garment. A good portion of her butt cheeks were visible so she had to wear thong panties, or no panties at all with them. Knowing that Jamie Stanton most likely had not worn panties with the leather garment did discourage the idea of going commando. Paired with her brown leather lace up boots and a pink wife beater shirt, Becky was ready for the after-graduation parties a few of her peers had planned.
Becky worried, sweated, studied and worried some more but finally the last few days were over, then the final exams were at hand. And then it truly was over and she was done.
At the first graduation party, the video idiots, the Kombat Krew as they called themselves, were trying to see how much they could drink, and were also trying to see if any girls were willing to fuck them. There were no girls willing to talk with them, much less fuck any of them. After twenty minutes, the step-father of the graduating girl hosting the party politely and firmly asked the video game idiots to leave. Rusty Barnes, a bloated, pimple-faced buffoon sneered and told the man to suck his dick.
"Ooh, shit! Bet that hurt, huh Rusty?" Becky giggled as the step-father slapped Rusty so hard, Rusty actually toppled to the ground.
"Want to tell me that again, huh, big guy?" the man challenged, then turned to the rest of the Kombat Krew. "Huh? Any of you brave little boys want to tell me suck your dicks? Didn't think so. Now, time for y'all to be going."
At the next party, the girl's parents weren't home. Tim Knudsen and Jory White disappeared into a bedroom. After a few tequila shots, Becky went into the bathroom and wiggled out of her lacy pink bra, then put her tight tank top on again. The outline of her piercings was very noticeable through the snug top. And, if the light was right, her light brown areolae and silver glint were visible through the cotton material.