This work is copyrighted to the author © 2022. Please do not remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved.
---
Be
warned! This story delves into aberrant
sex practices. I’m not advocating
it. I may or may not even like it. It's simply a fantasy, a product
of my imagination, and thus, completely fictitious.
Peace,
brothers.
---
Before you
read it, please note the following:
* If you are under eighteen, do not read this story!
* If you have a hard time separating fantasy from reality, do not read this
story!
* If it's illegal in your jurisdiction to read nonconsensual sex stories, don't
read this story!
Support Nifty: If you can afford to cough up a few bucks, the good folks who make this all happen would be much obliged.
===============================================================================
Tangas
& Sangas
&
A Girl Named Cricket
An Erotic Horror Story
by
Bad Robot
Click the Asstr link below
to meet the
Characters:
https://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/HumblePie/Pics/cricket.jpg
"Chipper,
Chipper!" What in the hell is going on," Todd hollered as he barreled
through the office door, and damn near knocked Chip over in the process.
"Whoa-whoa
there, Sweeney boy, you'd better pull back on the brakes before you run that
morning express off the tracks."
"Man,
the place is a buzz; everybody is saying you hit the mother load. Are they right, buddy-boy? Did you do it, are you in the money?”
"Yup! 10 grand a month for life, Plus 30 days in
Rio, all expenses paid, and all courtesy of American Globe Trotter
Magazine."
"Holy shit! Chippy,
my friend, you done stumbled upon the proverbial pot of Gold at the end of the
rainbow.
" Yessiree, and I’m glad as hell I didn't listen to you, and entered the contest
anyway."
"When
are you going, this month or next? Are
you taking Cricket along with you?"
“Can’t leave her. She’d terriorize
Margaret’s life. Kneecap her, kidnap her
dentures, have her in tears 5 minutes after I’ve gone. Besides, why not? She has to come out of her cocoon someday
soon.”
“I mean,
think about it. She’s already wearing a
bra, or trainer, or Booby Trap, or whatever else they call them these days.”
"What?
Damn, one day they're a babe in the
woods and the next, Pogey bait."
"Well,
she's still the babe in the woods, only now one with a pair of rudy red pencil erasures sticking from beneath her
T-Shirt."
"Huh,
well, I guess its times like these when you truly miss her momma Jane."
"True
enough, buddy, true enough!"
-----------
The next
two weeks was a chaotic, all-consuming maelstrom of activity. There were the interviews both televised & in print,
& having to answer to friends & neighbors and even to those who were mere
passing acquaintances, and those who were just plain nosy.
And to a
one, they all asks the same question; “Do you have a lucky piece; A charm, a rabbit’s
foot, or a whatever?”
“Yeah,” he’d
always say, “I’ve got Cricket," and always with a yard-long grin while
drawing her in and holding on to her tightly.
And the
inquisition lasted thoughout, without let up at work,
on the street, or even when abound the plane to
And so
it was until the moment the plane landed in
----
"Good
day, Sir," Mr. Ruiz, the Chief Concierge in black tails said in response
to a request for his help. "How
might be of assistance?"
"Yes,
yes, thank you. My name is Chip Spooner
and this is my daughter, Cricket. We currently occupy your State Room as guest
of American Globe Trotter Magazine, and I wonder if you might be of a mind to provide
a man who is totally out of his element with a tip or two. You know, in way of guidance, where to go,
what to do, that sort of thing?”
"Yes,
sir, I know well who you are, and as for myself, I'm the Chief Concierge in
this magnificent Hotel;
One that we proudly call the best in all of
"Well,
let’s see. On the immediate agenda I
suppose that would be a sun bathing suit,” Chip replied with nod toward Cricket
who was hanging on to his hand like they were tied together by an umbilical.
"You
see, sir, I promised my daughter a day of sunbathing on the beach, but come to
find out, she forgot to pack a bathing suit, and now I’ve got to go out and buy
one for her."
"Yes,
sir, I understand. But, this is
"Yeah,
well, so?
"Huh,
well, for one, sir, in
“However,
as it is mine to simply serve and not make commentary, I shell let that lie and
do as you wish most expeditiously. And as I consider myself a rather adroit
individual I know just the place to send you.
In fact, I will ask Franco, one of our Porters to escort you there
immediately."
---
Thirty
minutes later, Franco, with Cricket creaking, her hand in his, where standing
out front of the 'La Tanga Fashionista.'
looking in the front window at the items they had for sale.
"I
thought you said you were taking me to buy a swimsuit?"
"I
am, I did, see," he said, pointing at the items they had on display in the
window.
"A swimsuit? Here?” she asked, and again
sounding a tad bit miffed. “I don't see
any."
"Right
there," he said, tapping the glass and shaking his head in disbelief. You Americanos know
nothing but how to feed your face. Look,
you see right there, right before your eyes are some of the very best beach
wear in all of
“Right where? She again asked while looking
in the window at all the trinkets & baubles she saw on display; everything
from strings of pearl beads and splotches of colored vinyl & fabric of
every sort, color and size. From those that were large enough in size to cover a postage stamp, and
some so sheer as to be imperceptible from a step farther on.
"They
look pretty, yes?” Franco the Porter on loan asked with a tap on the glass. “Me, I like that blue strand of pearls. They’d go nicely with a little snippet of clear
vinyl to the cover the little kitty’s mouth.
Of course, that’s just me,
whereas you might like another. Like the one over there, the vinyl patch with a
picture of a tongue licking the kitties little patch of curly whiskers that
grow atop her mouth.”
“What do
you thing, huh,” he asked, but she said not a word. And it wasn’t for a lack of understanding!”
“Well,
okay, maybe you don’t understand. But I
like it, and if I was a li’kitty like you I’d get it.” he said looking abit like a
man whose advances had been rejected.
“Anyway,
it don’t matter, because whichever you choose, I can assure
you that all the lookers will be looking, and all seers will be seeing, and the
tongues will be licking as they watch you kick the sand when you walk past them
on the beach.”
“Jimmity,
and I thought boys at home were weird. But
I still need me a bathing suit and I Still don’t see one.”
“Oh you Americanos, you’re just as thick in the head as a people
say. Come, I’ll take you inside and I
show you,” he said as he took up her hand and led her side, where she came to
see her first ever Tangas & Sanges,
both of which captured her imagaination if for no
other reason than to try to figure them out.
"What's
this," she asked while reaching out to grab hold of the first thing she
saw.
“A Sange. But that’s not
you, that’s for boys.”
“For boys to ware, to swim?” She asked, she held it up, she ran her hand over the sock-like
sheath made of twine and woven in a fishnet pattern that didn’t so much look
like something someone would wear as it did the fish bowl scooper they used at
home to clean up the guppy tank.
“Oh look
what fun,” she said, she giggled, as she put her hand inside and waved it about
as she would sock puppet. “Here, fishes,
fishy,” she giggled.
"That's
not a toy. I told you that was for boys, not to catch fish. That's for men to wear on the beach to show
the pretty girls that they are a good catch.
See," he then said as he lifted up her arm and rolled it up her arm
alway to the elbow.
"See that," he then said when done.
"See
what?"
"If
you were a man, and I a girl, I could see every inch of what makes you a very
good catch.”
"You
mean . . .?”
"Yes,
men wear it, so you see what you’re getting,” he said, he grinned, he chuckled
lasciviously while pinching her cheek, only
coming to a stop then that he heard a familiar calling out from behind.
"Olá, Franco, tudo bem?: (Hello, Franco. (what's cooking?)
"Not
much, and you?”
“Oh, you
know me. Some things take me this way,
and some things take me that way.”
“And who
is this you have with you?”
"A guest at our hotel. Only she’s
bleach white guest in need of some color."
"Si, no hay problema," (Yes,
No problem, I fix)
"We’ll
suit her up in a sweet little tanga, pat her on the
bottom, and show her the way to the beach.”
“Yes,
yes, one of those two string Tangas not the pasties.”
“Yes, I
think that best. It’ll keep the coyotes away, atleast for
now. A two strings beaded tanga would be best I think. One string to tie aound
the hips so it doesn't just fall down onto the sand, and a pearl strand to
split her bottom cheeks & spread wide her puss so the goodfellows
can watch her fluttering pussy lips breath in the fresh sea air like a gulping
guppy in a pond. Then I hang a fishnet
over her shoulders so the men & boys can pinch her aroused little jubblies that jut out through the weave."
"Si, si, una chica
de show! (Yes,
good, a showgirl.) One that will
have every Sanga on the beach wagging like a dogs tail," he said, while squeezing his crouch and
beaming at her like a cockeyed wanker.
Note: A sanga, as described above, is a net-like sock that kinda, sorta, serves as beachwear
for men to cover his cock, as is law. The only law on the books that applied to beachside wear.
---
Shortly
after, Franco with Cricket in hand, returned to the hotel to show her daddy her
choice of beach wear. They found him in
the 'lounge' nursing a Scotch on the rocks where he'd been thoughout
idling away the time while awaiting their return.
"Here's
to you, buddy," he said to himself as he tossed down the glass of Scotch while
his eyes followed the tanga wearing waitress in
6" heels and a rooster tail of feathers emanating out from her bare naked
ass as she passed by with a shake of her tail.
"Holy
damn, if there place ain't heaven it must be
hell!" he said to himself with a sigh.
And to make it clear, the "IT" he referred to got all
the more hellish when she bent forward to serve a gentleman his drink, & gave
Chip Spooner, an eyefull of nasty, as a pearl on the tanga string that ran between her legs, popped in-and-out
her cunt.
It was
then that he heard Cricket's warbling little voice cry out as Franco & she
walked in. Cricket, as she was, 99.99%
naked, and Franco, walking beside her with one hand squeezing her ass &
wearing an all too self-satisfied smile.
"Do
you like it Daddy?" he heard Cricket call out, sounding quite the happy
girl. "At first I didn’t think I’d
like it, but now I love it, I do, I do," she then followed with a giddy
laugh while clapping her hands.
"Now I can go to the beach just like all the other girls to have
fun and be happy and not miserable when the boys start picking on me for not dressing
up prettily for them like all the others girls do."
"There
you are, my good Sir, just as you asked.
She comes back to you a happy girl,”
“Now, that'd
be five hundred & fifty two U.S.dollars, Sir,”
Franco then said thinking the time was right to give him the bad news before the
good news faded.
“Of
course, that does not cover the cost of my time & a tip for me as well as
one for the sales girl at the La Tanga Fashionista who was so generous with her time."
"Not
too worry though as I paid for it with a chit from the hotel and will be added
to your bill.”
"Whoa!
Whoa! Whoa! There buddy 500 bucks for what?
She left this Hotel dressed and comes back naked, and you, sir, are a
freaking pervert, a sicko, a slivering little maggot
who I'm about to knock senseless," he said anglily
& with clenched fist; A reponse that caught the
attention of the Chief Concierge who immediately turned on his heels and set
off at hurried pace to the hotels bar room lounge to see what all the commotion
was all about.
"What
is the problem, Sir?” He asked as he
entered the room.
"Problem?" You idiot,
I'll show the problem," he furiously called out as he turned Cricket about
to show the man his daughter standing there in her tanga
with the big blue pearl bead bobbing in and out her three sizes smaller puss.
"Oh
yes, Sir, I now see to which you were referring." the old chief Concierge
said as he pulled a notepad out from his pocket and began to write:
"Re-mind-er,” he wrote. “Miss
Spooner Tanga will require an adjustment to reduce
the slurp – slurp slushing sound so as only to attract
only the better elements and not the scavaging coyotes
when on the beach.” Dot! Period!
“Well there
you go, Mr. Spooner, I’ll see to it that all will fixed shortly. Other than that, I see no other problems. In fact, in my opinion I think she looks
quite splended," he replied with a crooked
smile, and ignoring the fact that Franco's finger was now fully buried up her
ass causing her rise up high on her toes.
"Good
job, Franco," he then turn about to say to his assistant.
"Yes,
sir, thank you, sir," I do my best.
And I agree, she will be well liked when
playing on the beach. And that's what
Mr. spooner said he wanted, for her to be liked, free
to have fun, and do in Rio as the Brailian's do, noless, no more.
"Well,
Mr. Spooner, there you have it, in your own words, and Commendable words they
are too. Do you not agree, Franco?"
"Oh,
yes Sir, most certainly. But before we
send the fun seeking Americanos off to have fun on the
beach, I have one more thing to add to the make the merry afair
all the merrier.
And on
that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a Sanga. And not just any Sanga,
but a net weave Sanga, that could no more cloak a
blemish than it could shroud
"It’s
a gift from your daughter” Franko said while gangling
it about millimeters away from his nose.
“She absolutely would not leave La Tanga Fashionista until I bought it so you too could have a world
of fun right along side her."
....
A
Week later . . .
Chip
& Cricket were on their way out of the Hotel Praia Ipanema
when they again ran into the chief Concierge, Enzo Messi, who was standing in the lobby watching the comings
& going of the Hotel guest.
"Ah,
if it isn't Mr. Spooner & his lovely daughter going out to shop, or is it
to the beach?"
"To
the beach," Chip replied was a smile that ran from ear to ear. "Cricket, has been jumping about all
morning trying to get me to take her to the beach so she get a good all over
tan and play and have a ton of fun.”
"Ah,
yes, I see," the Chief Concierge, Enzo Messi replied as he reach down between her legs and push
the pearl bead back in her puss and thusly causing cricket to elicit a shutter
& a sigh.
"My,
my," he then said, as he leaned in close to whisper in her ear.
"Nice,
yes? Like a finger in a socket.”
“Now, my
little lil’ cherry lollipop ,
you go out and have yourself a fun day, which I know you will, it’s a can’t
miss. A sure bet that you’ll have the sangas wagging
the day long and it not, it’ll only be because your admirers have run out of drool,
or whatever, to bathe your skin so that
by days end you come back home with the nice well rounded and not burnt skin
just as you wish."
------
Two
weeks later . . .
Postcard
Home
Todd,
Just
a reminder, it's back home time for Cricket & me, next week on the eighth.
Your budby, Chip.
Oh
yeah, one more thing.
How
about this post card, Dud? I found it
the lobby of the hotel I’m staying. Pretty fucking hot, ain’t
it? The golden sands & the girls in
their
Okay,
well, if you need contact me before the eighth, just call the hotel and ask for
Carlos Sousa, the bartender, who will know how to get in touch with me.
Okay,
bro, catch'ya in a few.
Peace,
bro . . .
Chip
"Hey,
morning Todd,” Charley Dimler said as he walked in
the office door with a cup of coffee in hand.
“You
heard from the Chipper yet?”
“You did
said, he was due back by the eighth, no?”
“Yeah,
sure did.
“Well in
case you haven’t notice today’s the 9th.”
“Yeah I
notice, and I also know that it ain’t like the
Chipper to leave folks hanging out like this.”
“You
sound worried.”
“Yeah,
well, and you’re not?”
“Yeah, of course!”
“Well
then, have you throught about giving the airline a call
to see what they have to say? You know,
to see if the plane ran off the runway, or something?”
“No, not
yet, but now I’m all over it, boss. I’ll
let you know what I find out!”
…
Later
that afternoon . . .
“Hey,
“You’re
Spanish, right?”
“Mexican
Spanish, but yeah, I’m Spanish.”
“You
wouldn’t happen to know how to speak Portuguese,
would out?”
“I just
told you I Spanish, not no Portuga,
but as we both come from the same neightborhood, I
guess you can say I’ve got me a bit of an ear for their rhythm. Why you ask?”
“I’ve gotta talk to a guy in
“And you
me to talk to him? Right here, right
now?”
“Yip!”
“And you’ll
buy me Lunch?”
“Yip,
got you covered.”
---
An
Hour Later . . .
“Well
talk to me, Bud, what did he find out?” Charley Dimler
asked as he returned to the office after Todd had made his call.
“He said, bingo! It seems
ol’ Chipper has found himself a bed of roses to sleep
in.”
“No
kidding?”
“No, I wouldn’t
be kidding you. Apparrently
he’d found himself a chum in the bar Hotel Praia Ipanema,
the place where he’d been staying.”
“Yeah,
well so what? They both spoke Gin &
Tonic. How does that matter?”
“Well as
they say, there ain’t no better friend in the world
than the melancholy guy sitting beside you at the bar. Something that apparently both our Chipper
and fella named Capo Carlitos
had in common.
“Capo Carlitos?”
“Yeah. Come to find out, he’s one of the riches men
in all of
“Yeah,
well, that’s cool, but I’m not quite sure I get the connection?”
“Well,
allow me to try to clear away some of the fog.
“On the the night of their departure, Cricket asked her father if she
could wear her tanga on Black beach when they got
home.”
“Yeah,
so, what’s your point?”
“My
point is, they’re not here, they’re still in
-----
Back in
“Thank
you, Mr. Carlitos, that’s so sweet of you,” Cricket creaked
as she rose up off the beach lounger.
“Are you
feeling better now, baby cakes?” Chip asked while handing Capo the shot of
tequila he’d asked for.”
“Oh yes
daddy, I feel as good as can be!”
“Yes, I
can see,” he said with a smile, as he watched the jumbo-size pearl on her new tanga squeeze in, squeeze out with a notable slurping sound.
“You see
what, daddy?” she asked as a she excitedly danced about.
“What do
I see?”
“I see a
very happy girl . . .”
Das Ende
by
Bad Robot
------- § § § -------
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