From the old Dream Book archive.
This story was posted way back on Monday, October 4th 2004 - 05:17:02 PM
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July 4th has always been my favorite holiday. But last year's topped
them all. Having just finished my freshman year at State, I was so
looking forward to seeing all of my old highschool chums. My long time
friend Trista and I went to the beach knowing that everyone who was
anyone would be there.
Sure enough, by mid-day, the beach was packed. It seemed as though
every one of last year's senior class was there. Not much had changed
over the past year. The clicks were still apparent. You had the geeks
and nerds, the jocks, the valley girl cheerleader types, and a few like
me and Trista who really didn't fit into any one click. Surprisingly
even Sarah Wellington showed up. I say surprisingly, because Sarah swore
at graduation that she would never come back to our small "provincial"
town. Last year's prom queen, and daughter of Lester Wellington,
President of First Capital National Bank, Sarah moved to Boston to
attend Harvard. A perennial snob, Sarah had gotten ahead in life based
on her stunningly good looks and her father's position.
Always wanting to be the center of attention, Sarah spread out her
beach towel only a few yards away from the always busy volleyball court.
As she removed her beach robe, she knew that every male set of eyes
would be focussed directly on her, and that all the other girls would be
burning with envy. Trista and I are both pretty with nice athletic
bodies. Unfortunately, when Sarah is around, nobody notices. She dropped
her robe and stood still for a moment, allowing all eyes to admire her
statuesque 5'10" frame with proportionate curves. Her golden blonde hair
fell softly over her shoulders and provided a nice contrast to her
bronzed skin and red bikini. Her string bikini bottoms accentuted her
long legs. Her bikini top, though strapless had ruffled fabric in front
and was less revealing, adding mystery to what must surely be
magnificent breasts. Trista and I were playing volleyball and watching
the guys approaching Sarah.
One by one, they would bring her a cocktail and start chatting. Soon
enough, Sarah would get tired of them and shoo them away like an
unwanted fly. The guys should have gotten used to it by now. For years,
they would kiss up to her. Guys would give her their assignments and
study notes only to have her reject their advances. Needless to say,
there were alot of frustrated young men with bruised egos. Soon enough
the volleyball started getting a bit more competative. Trista tried to
be extra agressive with her serve and the ball sailed wide of the court
and bounced squarely off of Sarah's head. No harm was done by the errant
shot and everyone had a good laugh.
Unfortunately, Sarah didn't think that it was so funny. She got up in a
huff, and demanded to know who hit her. Trista fessed up, and said she
was sorry about the missed shot. Sarah, felling no pain from the many
cocktails, didn't accept her appology. She got up and staggard towards
Trista and slurred. "You little bitch! You did that on purpose. You hate
me because your boyfriend wants to be with me more than with you. And,
you know what? He's not good enough for me! And Sister, you're not even
good enough for him!" Trista looked totally surprised by this outburst,
and replied "take it easy Sarah. You're drunk and out of control!"
Sarah, spat back "how dare you call me 'drunk and out of control'" And
without warning slapped Trista accross the face with such force that
blood started pouring from her left nostril. Trista took a second to
regain her senses, then with full force stepped into a punch, sending
hir fist deep into Sarah's gut. Sarah doubled over and fell to her
knees. The wind knocked out of her, Sarah was gasping for air. Trista
leaned over her and unclasped her bikini top from behind. Gasping for
air, Sarah still had the where-with-all to grab the front of her top and
hold it to her chest. A large croud had now gathered to see the
comotion. All eyes were focussed on Sarah's chest, hoping to get a
glimps of her perfect breasts.
There were moans of dissapointment as Trista turned her back on
Sarah and started to walk away, saying that Sarah had already learned
her lesson. At that moment, Sarah, still on her knees, flung a half full
can of beer, striking Trista's back. Trista turned around and was
seething. She grabbed a loose end of Sarah's bikini top, and started to
pull. Sarah, gasping for air, was holding her top against her chest as
if her life depended on it. Finally, out of breath and out of energy,
Sarah lost her grip. Trista fell backwards with the bikini top in her
hands. Trista got up from the sand, looked at Sarah, who was now
crossing her arms over her chest, then looked at the bikini top in her
hand, and started to laugh. "Hey everybody!" she yelled "the cups are
fully padded. Let's now see just how small her titties really are!"
Trista grabbed Sarah from behind and put her into a full nelson
wrestling hold and lifed her to her feet, exposing her small breasts for
all to see. The croud broke out in laughter. One of the guys who had
been shot down repeatedly by Sarah, shouted " I can't believe those are
what we've been dying to see? Jeez, My fat uncle Max has bigger titties
than those! Let's see if she's a fake blonde, too!" By this time, tears
were streaming down Sarah's face. In a tremeandouse struggle, Sarah fell
forward into the sand with Trisha ontop of her from behind.
Defenceless, Sarah was unable to stop Trista from untying the strings of
her bikini bottoms. "Please, no. Not my bottoms. I'm begging you" Sarah
pleaded as she clenched her butt cheeks in an attempt to hinder their
removal. "Too late" Trista replied as she yanked the red bikini bottoms
from between Sarah's legs.
Sarah lay prone with her arms streched out in the sand trying
desparately to avoid being overturned and hoping that someone would come
to her defence before being fully displayed. Unfortunately for Sarah,
all present were anxiously awaiting for the snobby bitch to be fully
humiliated. Trista got up off of Sarah, grabbed her arm and quickly
flipped her over. Sarah immediately shielded the view of her pussy and
ass by bringing her knees to her chest and putting her hands under her
bum. Much to her chagrin, this position had her on her back with her
chest in clear view. In this position, it appeared as if she had no
breasts whatsoever. Trista started to separate Sarah's hands shielding
her behind. The crowd started to cheer as they now had a clear view of
her asshole and shaved pussy lips. Sarah wept but still kept her knees
to her chest and now put her hands over her pubic region. In a move of
desparation, Sarah rolled over and started crawling towards her towel
and bag. She grabbed her keys from the bag and grabbed the towel. She
held the towel against her groin, stood up and started to sprint towards
her car. Unfortunately for her, she only got a few steps before being
tackled by Trista. This time Sarah fell awckwardly and had her feet
pinned under Trista. Trista grabbed the back of Sarah's golden blonde
hair, forcing her to arch her back and to fully expose her well
manicured bush of dark brown pubes.
The crowd went wild with screems such as "falsie queen!" and "fake
bottled blonde". Trista put a beaten Sarah through some pretty
humiliating wrestling holds before letting her go. Sarah left town that
night, and the only reminder of her are the many pictures and videos of
the stripping circulating around town.
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