Beth

VS Ch. 05
by gossog©


Toro Beach, in southern California, is partially protected by a spit of land and 
rock, so that waves are gentle. The beach itself is hidden from the parking area 
by a serpentine dune, about 15 feet high, dotted with dry grasses and shrubs. 
The dune separated Jim Donner, relaxing on a spread blanket on the beach, and 
college student Beth Gergen, driving her red Miata into the lot.

They had never met. Still, he had an unwitting influence on her actions from 
that point on.

Beth was a striking young woman, with pale white skin, voluptuous build, and 
long jet-black hair cascading down in gentle waves. The preceding Halloween, she 
summed up the courage to dress as Vampirella, carefully taping the sashes of red 
fabric over her breasts. She had briefly considered wearing nothing else but the 
sashes, which would loop over her shoulders and between her legs and cover 
almost everything they needed to. She tried this at home, assessing herself in 
the mirror. So much was exposed, at the curves of her buttocks, and outside the 
narrow red V covering her private parts, that she lost her nerve. Along her 
sides was uninterrupted bare skin from neck to toe. She put on a matching black 
miniskirt. Even with that concession to safety, she stole the attention of every 
guy at that party. (And the tape held.)

She looked good in black clothing; it was one of her favorite colors. But she 
liked red even more. The bikini she wore today was a fire-engine red, a close 
match to her Miata; and her favorite party dress, in the closet at home, was the 
same color.

Beth drove into the lot looking forward to a little quiet time: do some reading, 
scope out some guys, think a little about what to do later with her friends. 
After a year of being constantly surrounded by fellow college students, she 
welcomed the relative anonymity of a public beach, where families and groups of 
friends usually kept to themselves.

Before she could park, however, she was struck by an impulse of surprising 
power, as if prodded with an electric baton. She sat stunned for a moment, car 
idling, not knowing what to make of it. Then she sped out of the lot. There was 
a compulsion to return home, as quickly as possible. For what reason, she didn't 
know; but she was unable to resist. As she steered back onto the main road, she 
felt a bubbling anxiety about not being back home yet.

The sense of urgency increased as Beth drove through town, going as fast as she 
thought was safe without crashing or getting pulled over. She muttered "C'mon, 
c'mon!" at cars and pedestrians slowing her progress. Her heart was pounding 
faster, as if running in place, or watching a scary movie.

The adrenaline and uncertainly was somehow making her feel sexually aroused as 
well. Without really thinking about it, she had her right hand in her lap, then 
between her legs. She slipped her hand underneath her bikini bottoms. She 
shifted in the seat, fingering herself as she steered with the other hand. At a 
stoplight she rose up in her seat slightly, and awkwardly slipped the bottoms 
off, leaving them on the floor. She banged her knee on the steering wheel doing 
this, creating a bruise that showed up later, but she wouldn't remember how she 
got it. As she waited for the light to change, she drummed her left fingers on 
the steering wheel, while her right fingers probed her moistening slit.

A guy on a skateboard rolled to a stop, his attention caught by the lovely 
brunette in the bright red bikini. When he leaned closer, to check out her lower 
half, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. She was beautiful, and bottomless, 
and touching herself. One or two fingers right up inside her pussy as she stared 
straight ahead. Too soon, the light changed and she sped off.

She was about halfway home, past the center of town, and her nipples had 
hardened, erect like gumdrops, and her top was feeling constrictingly tight. She 
didn't feel safe taking it off here, though; it would be too conspicuous and she 
didn't want to be stopped. She did reach back and undo the clasp, letting the 
top loosely cover her breasts.

The top continued to irritate her, and after a while she no longer cared about 
being seen. About a mile from her house, she took it off and tossed it outside. 
Now nude, her mind seemed to clear and she was able to focus. She needed to put 
on different clothes; that's why she was going home. The bikini wasn't right, it 
wasn't the right thing to wear, and that's why she had taken it off. It was 
better to wear nothing for the moment. As she sped past, a man picking up a 
newspaper blinked at what he wasn't sure he had seen. Surely that wasn't a naked 
woman in that car.

Beth pulled into the driveway diagonally, just barely out up out of the street, 
and sprinted into the house. "Beth, is that you?" her mother called.

"Forgot something. Gotta go get it," Beth yelled, bounding up the stairs. Her 
mom caught just a glimpse of her running up and shook her head at the skimpy 
things kids wore these days. It almost looked like her daughter wasn't wearing 
anything at all.

Beth stood in front of her closet, fidgeting, shifting weight from one foot to 
another. Her right hand was at her chin, as she nibbled at a fingernail, not 
biting through, but just worrying at it. Her left hand was between her legs. She 
might not even have noticed she was stroking herself.

(Her neighbor, the 45-year-old man who happened to glance through her window, 
did notice. The best sight of her he had previously enjoyed was last summer, 
when she was watering the back lawn and accidentally sprayed herself, drenching 
the front of her white T-shirt. She hadn't been wearing a bra, and the thin 
cotton turned nearly transparent against her breasts.)

Now that she was home, nothing looked suitable to wear. Beth was at a standstill, paralyzed by indecision, anxiety mounting.

Finally the answer occurred to her. She ran down the hall to the den, where she 
knew a pair of sharp scissors was. Heedless of a thousand mothers' warnings, she 
ran back with the scissors to her room. Luckily her brother was already out of 
the house. As far as she knew, he had not seen her naked since before puberty.

She started with a red polo shirt that was a size too small, and cut off large 
swathes of fabric. Sleeves, collar and midriff were gone, making it a strapless 
bandeau, about five inches wide, that covered enough of her breasts to 
technically not be indecent. She tried it on; a single button strainingly held 
it together.

An old pair of black bikini panties became the bottom; from these she cut out 
the elastic waistband. When she put them on, they had trouble staying up, and 
tended to drift down whenever she walked, or even stood with her legs slightly 
apart. Still, an overwhelming feeling of relief confirmed that this outfit was 
the right thing to wear. She walked gingerly down the stairs, shouting "Bye Mom" 
as she stepped outside.

The drive back to the beach was sedate. Beth felt no urge to speed, or touch 
herself, or take all her clothes off. She knew her skimpy outfit was attracting 
some attention, and that her large breasts were putting a lot of stress on the 
button holding together her improvised top; but nothing worried her. Everything 
was going to be all right.

Back at the parking lot, Beth stepped out of the car, then leaned over to get 
her beach mat and bag. The panties slipped down to her knees, exposing her 
bottom. Normally she would have been mortified about such a thing; but instead 
she was merely irritated. The panties were proving a nuisance. She hiked them 
back up and walked toward the dune, and a small footpath leading to the beach. 
She took small steps. She had no hands free to hold her panties up.

She climbed to the top of the dune without incident, seeing the ocean for the 
first time. It was a beautiful day. But just standing there, pausing to enjoy 
the view, caused her panties to slide down again. A few people on the beach had 
already noticed her and were no doubt happily surprised to see her accidentally 
bottomless. A neat triangle of black pubic hair contrasted sharply with her pale 
skin.

She bent forward, trying to get hold of her panties with two fingers while still 
holding her things. This put just enough additional stress on the single button 
holding together her stretched top to snap its thread. The top sprang off to the 
back, and her breasts quivered slightly as they were revealed.

Now Beth was in worse shape, practically naked, still trying to pull her panties 
back up, and drawing more attention. Flustered, she finally got a grip on the 
delicate black fabric and pulled up, so at least most of her butt and pubic area 
was covered. Her exposed breasts she could do nothing about right now. She 
carefully started downhill.

Even though she was going slowly, at the second step she lost her footing and 
fell headlong. She ended up on her stomach and slid down a little bit. She lay 
there dazed for a few moments, sand in her face and clinging to her breasts.

Jim had been walking by moments before, and Beth had caught his eye as soon as 
she reached the top of the dune. He stopped and watched the whole thing happen, 
about 20 feet away. When she fell, he jogged over to assist her. The other 
people looking on apparently were just content to watch.

The girl was starting to prop herself up, shaking her head and spitting out 
sand. Raven-black hair spilled out over her shoulders and back. Even at first 
sight, with her in an unflattering position, he knew she was beautiful. Large 
breasts slowly lifted off the sand as she came to her elbows. Long legs and a 
curvaceous body were separated by the skimpiest black underthings, which had 
slipped down a bit, exposing most of her lovely ass.

The first thing he did, even before speaking to her, was to tug at her panties 
until the fabric ripped and gave way. He tossed the material to the side. And 
just in time, too; seconds later she got to her knees. Then he extended a hand 
and helped her to her feet. Her naked body was perfection in his eyes. 
Melon-sized natural breasts that needed no bra. Torso tapering down to a trim 
waist, then flowering into voluptuous hips, neatly trimmed pussy and lovely 
legs. It was silly for any of this to be covered up.

"Are you OK?" he said. "Looks like you had a bad fall."

Beth was still a little shaken and didn't answer. Sand was still stuck to her 
tummy, breasts, forearms and thighs.

Jim started to gently brush the sand away. She watched him do this, not 
resisting, even when he paid considerable attention to her breasts, nipples, and 
pubic area. After he finished, he walked slowly around her, checking everything 
out. She was quite beautiful, even by southern California standards. What a 
knockout.

"I think you're OK now," he said. "Whoops, missed one." A few grains of sand 
rested on her red lips. He brushed them with a fingertip and then gave her a 
quick kiss. "My name's Jim."

"I'm Beth," she said, looking into his eyes. A sense of rightness flooded 
through her. This was all meant to be, another clue in a mystery slowly being 
unraveled. She kissed him, open lips, hungry, oblivious to those around her, not 
caring she was naked.

He took her to his blanket, in a less crowded area of the beach, and laid her on 
her back. She still seemed a little out of it, and was happy to gaze up at him. 
The sight of her laying there, nipples pointing straight up, legs slightly 
spread to show her moist pink slit... that was too much for Jim to put off 
enjoying. He stripped off his trunks, touched her a little bit to make sure she 
was wet, and then guided himself in.

Beth was an enthusiastic lovemaker, moving in concert with him, alternately 
caressing him and raking his back with her nails. Neither of them cared that 
probably no one else at the beach was even topless, and they were having sex not 
50 feet away from other beachgoers.

He pulled out temporarily to spend some time nibbling and licking her delicious 
tits, and then moved down between her legs, licking her pussy until she seemed 
almost ready to come. When he got back inside her, a few strategic caresses of 
her left nipple were enough to send her over the edge. After her climax, he let 
himself go and came too.

They spent a while just laying there in the sun naked, her head on his 
shoulders, Jim on his back. After a while Beth returned to her supine position 
and fell asleep. He marveled at this: asleep, nude, on a public beach, legs not 
even crossed, showing everything. Was that confidence, or trust, or just 
nonchalance?

Jim put on his trunks and got up to get drinks. Without knowing the exact 
reasons, he was sure Beth would be OK by herself until he returned.

The line was long at the snack bar. He fell in behind a blonde woman with short 
hair, and and hourglass figure almost like Beth's. She had cute legs and a nice 
ass, but the blue one-piece she wore was way too modest in his view. She had 
some freckles on her shoulders.

"Long line," Jim remarked.

She turned around. A cute face, not super skinny like a model's. Nice boobs too, 
really nice, although her swimsuit didn't show much of a neckline. "Sort of like 
purgatory", she said. "Like line torture." She had an appealing smile, 
intelligent eyes and evidently a unique sense of humor.

Line torture? Hmmm. "Too bad there's no safe word," Jay said.

"What's a safe word?" Maybe he had misread her.

"When you're doing bondage and domination play, it's supposed to be consensual, 
even though you're playing at being master and slave. The safe word is something 
the "slave" can say at any time to stop whatever they're doing and go back to 
normal. It's like an escape valve." Jim had never participated in such things, 
but had read enough about them.

"Bondage is like whips and chains, right?"

"Not just that. There are all sorts of roles you can play. But you'll have one 
person commanding the other and often doing what looks like abuse. But with the 
safe word, the submissive one actually determines how far things go."

"That's fascinating, how it turns things around!" she said. "So how does it work 
in practice?" she said.

"Well, we could do a little session right here in line. No whips, because I left 
them at home."

She laughed. "What could we do standing in line anyway?"

"Simple stuff. Innocuous things. Like violating personal space, touching, so on."

"Well, we are stuck here for a while, so let's try it. Before we start, what's 
your name?"

"Jim."

"I'm Jolene. Glad to meet you, master." She shook his hand. "Shall we start?"

"Sure. For the safe word, let's just use the number eight."

"Okay. Easy enough."

"Good. First thing you need to do is take off your sandals and put them over there."

She looked puzzled for a second, as if she was really expecting him to ask 
something else. But she doffed her sandals and returned to the line. "That 
wasn't so bad. Sounds more like Simon Says."

"It's not only following directions," Jim said. "Also the dominant person can do 
what he or she wants with the submissive. Like this." He drew up close behind 
her and placed his hands at her hips. He spoke softly in her ear. "Until, of 
course, the safe word."

She tensed up but otherwise stood still. "You know, I'm not comfortable with 
basically a complete stranger touching me like that."

"You know the safe word. You can use it at any time." She didn't. He could feel 
her relax at his touch.

"I'm starting to understand this more, now," she said. "So I can protest and you 
can still force your will on me. The safe word is just to let you know when I 
really mean it."

"That's exactly right." He moved his hands slowly upward from her hips to her 
waist and higher. He still had not touched her bare skin -- she wore a one-piece 
-- but he was moving toward cupping her breasts underneath.

"You keep going, I'm going to say it," she warned.

"That way, we find some limits," he said, and took his hands away.

He then started to massage her shoulders, which she enjoyed. ("This bondage 
stuff isn't bad at all," she whispered.) After getting her accustomed to that, 
he slipped his fingers underneath her swimsuit straps.

"Okay, stop," she said. "I don't want you reaching underneath." The line moved 
forward slightly.

Jim ignored her. Nothing she could say besides the safe word would get his 
attention. He shifted the straps over her shoulders and onto her arms, leaving 
the neck and shoulders bare; then he caressed her there for a little while. 
Jolene's body language showed some discomfort at this, but she didn't move away 
or say anything.

The line was moving a little faster now. There might not be as much time as he 
had thought.

He wanted to pull down her straps far enough to free her arms and create a 
sleeveless maillot for Jolene, still covering everything except her arms and 
shoulders. But the material wouldn't stretch that far. To move toward freeing 
her arms, he would have to peel the entire suit down to near her waist. He 
slowly did so, gradually exposing more and more of the tops of her breasts. 
"Don't do this, it's not right," she said, almost in a whisper. He ignored her 
and kept going.

Once he got the material over her nipples, there was more slack and her breasts 
were easily bared. "Oh god," she said. "I can't believe this." He let go of her 
swimsuit and started to fondle her breasts from behind. The woman in front of 
them turned back, saw this, and looked at Jim with an arched eyebrow. He smiled 
guiltily and she smiled back. She was cute; a slim brunette in a tiny black 
bikini. Maybe he could hook up with her next.

Jolene still seemed unhappy, even though she was getting noticeably aroused. Her 
pink nipples hardened to nubs between Jim's teasing fingers. "Use the safe word 
if you want," he whispered. He was glad she was going along this far.

It was time to uncover more of her soft skin. He peeled the suit down to her 
waist, and then started fondling her bottom, which was still covered for now, 
sort of a preview for later. She was really getting into this, not even 
half-heartedly protesting anymore. The black bikini woman was watching again.

Jolene looked silly now, most of her swimsuit hanging limply below the waist. 
The highest point was now at hiphugger height, and Jim kept slowly peeling it 
down. The cleft between her butt cheeks came to light, and the first tufts of 
her pubic hair began to show.

The person in front of black bikini woman tapped her shoulder; she was next. She 
reluctantly turned away to make her order. Time was running out. Jolene's ass 
and pussy were almost completely exposed when Jim pulled everything down to her 
ankles. "Step out," he said, and she did.

He said, "Give your suit to that guy in the green trunks." He was about 18 or 
so, drinking a Coke and watching her. "Don't say anything to him; just give him 
the suit and come back."

She obeyed, and walked calmly back to him. He saw her full frontal nude for the 
first time. Full breasts, creamy thighs; a light dusting of blonde pubic hair. 
Moist pussy lips. He guessed he wasn't the only one with a tent pole in his swim 
trunks.

Black bikini woman had her order and turned for one last glimpse. She smiled and 
shook her head. "Have fun." Jim hoped he could find her again.

Jolene was at the front of the line. Jim had her face forward with legs shoulder 
length apart. "Order three lemonades," he told her, and inserted a finger in her 
pussy. He left her breasts uncovered for the server to see.

"Th-three lemonades, please," she said as Jim fingered her. The counterperson, a 
boy still with pimples on his face, leaned over and stared down at her body. Jim 
removed his hand to give the guy a look at Jolene's pussy.

"Uh, six dollars, please," the kid said.

"You don't have any money," Jim whispered. "Maybe he can touch your tits."

"Oh, I don't have anything with me," she said coyly to the boy. She caressed her 
breasts, tweaking her nipples with her thumbs. "Do you want to touch these? That 
should be worth something."


"I - okay, I can do these on the house," the boy said.

"Oh, thank you." She leaned forward on her tiptoes and he hesitantly reached out 
to her.

"Tell him don't be shy," said Jim.

"Don't be shy," she said.

"You love being touched like this."

"I love being naked and I love when a man touches me." The boy cupped her 
breasts and then began pawing them. It was the first time he had touched a naked 
woman. He was eager but not very skilled. To make her more aroused, Jim resumed fingering her pussy.


"Oh, my god," Jolene said, and then "oh" at intervals that got closer and 
closer. She gripped the drink counter for support.

"You want to come," Jim said.

She had a hard time forcing out her assent between gasps and grunts. He inserted 
another finger inside; she had warmed up and stretched out a bit. He flicked his 
fingers against each other inside her and she shuddered. Her hair whipped back 
and forth as she shuddered and came.

Jim had to remind the boy to get their lemonades.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said as she carried them away.

Jim didn't let Jolene even look for her swimsuit. Perhaps the guy she gave it to 
would keep it for a souvenir. He led her back to his area, passing by dozens of 
people gawking at the naked woman carrying drinks.

At his towel, Beth had woken up and waved sleepily.

"What's going on here?" Jolene asked. "Are you collecting naked women or something?"

"Don't ask questions," Jim said. "Lay down on the towel next to Beth."

Instead, Jolene stepped up to Jim and kissed him lightly on the lips, hers 
slightly open, with the tip of her tongue. She repeated this, more passionately 
this time. It felt as if all of the erotic potential of this lovely nude blonde 
was concentrated and passed through her lips into his. His heartbeat surged and 
his cock stiffened. She removed her lips and said "Eight," with a mischievous 
smile, looking him straight in the eye.

"What?" Jim didn't remember the context, the game they were playing.

"Eight. The safe word. I'm done playing." Jolene's behavior had changed so 
abruptly it was like a switch had flipped.

"But you came all the way out here..."

"You wouldn't understand. Even I don't understand a lot about it. But it 
sometimes works retroactively." Jim was about to ask what she was talking about 
when she dropped to her knees next to Beth. "What's your name?" Jolene asked, in 
almost the sing-song voice kindergarten teachers use. "Beth?"

Beth nodded, gazing up at Jolene with wide eyes.

Jolene ran one hand through Beth's long hair, and then caressed one breast, 
culminating with a gentle squeeze of the nipple between thumb and finger. Beth 
sighed. "You're beautiful, Beth," Jolene said, and leaned over her, one hand 
planted on each side, lowering herself as if to kiss. Then she shook her head. 
"I really shouldn't," she said, more to herself, and stood up.

"I have to leave, Jim," said Jolene. "But don't cry over spilt milk. There will 
be plenty of Beths from now on. But remember that they're temporary. Not yours 
to keep. So have a little fun, and then let her get on with her life. OK?"

"OK," said Jim, though he had no idea what she was talking about.

"It was nice to meet you," Jolene said, extending a hand. Jim found shaking 
hands with a naked woman very odd, and she seemed to be treating this like a 
successful sales call. "I'd better go find my swimsuit," she said. "Hope it's 
still there!"

With a huge grin, she stepped back, gave Jim a mock salute, and walked away. She 
didn't seem to mind being naked in the open at all. He stood there and watched 
until she was out of sight. He missed her very much.

"I know I've been had," he said, shaking his head. "I just don't know how." She 
had obviously planned this somehow. What was in it for her?

"What'd you say?" Beth said, groggily.

"Nothing." He sat down next to her. "Here's your lemonade." She sat up and they 
both sipped their drinks, watching the surf. Jim's confusion and regret ebbed 
after a while. After all, Beth was still here, she was naked and beautiful, and 
she might fancy another go-round, as the Brits would say. So he'd have to let 
her go; he could worry about that when the time came. She lay back down, 
stretching her arms, offering her nude body to him; he took one of those 
beautiful breasts in a hand and started to caress.