Praned

by Annie

This story is a direct sequel to "Coffee With Blushes". It is not necessary to read CWB first. It is, however, absolutely necessary that every one of you read "Coffee with Blushes". Don't forget!

This Laurel has nothing to do with Literotica's proprietress. Except, I guess Lit's Laurel had to approve this story.

This is a longish story by Literotica standards. It's pretty fast-moving, you shouldn't get bored. It has a plot, it isn't wall-to-wall sex, fair warning.

---Person--- means that Person is the point-of-view character for that section.

Enjoy!

---Rick---

"What are you looking at, perv?" It was surreal. Steph was asking the question, very sarcastically, while pulling her t-shirt over her head, revealing her bra. She dropped the shirt, balled up into a wad, on the kitchen table. Steph never was a neat freak.

"It's a porn cliché, Steph. I'm watching my Asian stepsister stripping for me." I smiled happily back at her, deliberately staring as she pulled the bra over her head, not bothering to unhook it. I hadn't seen Steph naked since I walked in while she was taking a bath. (I'm actually not that kind of perv. We share a bathroom.) She looked good. Annoyed at me, maybe, but good. I heard Laurel chuckle beside me and put my arm around her, without looking away from Steph.

From behind me, "Isn't your mom stripping a porn cliché too?" Without thinking, I looked over at ... my mom, who was just in the process of pulling off her yoga pants. And was already topless. And my eyes snapped back to Steph, turning my back on naked Rose Keller. Laurel giggled a little and hugged me. I could feel my cheeks heating up.

Steph smirked at me. Considering she was down to her panties and socks, it looked ... actually, it looked amazing.

I squeezed Laurel back, turning toward her and leaning over to breathe her scent. Tall, athletic, strawberry blonde. The dark eyes made a wonderful contrast with her light coloration. Plus, Laurel and me have the same hobby and hang with the same crowd. Steph was part of the "jocks" at Davidson High. Tennis. How did she not get a single freckle playing outdoor tennis?

From behind me again: "Hey, Steph, can I tell the old joke?" My mom is a big joker, especially when she can embarrass me. Not in a mean way, she just likes to pop my bubble. I do the same thing to her.

"Rose, it might be too old for me. No idea what you mean." At least Steph and I were equally mystified. We're almost exactly the same age, that made some sense. Steph always calls my mom "Rose", and I call her dad "Pete". When those two got married, we were old enough that they didn't try to make the stepkids call them "Mom" and "Dad".

Pete's hiding. Left for the golf course an hour ago. He just can't stand to watch as his wife and daughter get ready to be slave graded.

"Goes like this: Rick, I squeezed you out of this slit, and you used to suck on these boobs six times a day. Now you can't even stand to look at them?" I could

hear

Mom grinning.

"Mom!"

"This scar, on my left boob? That's from when you were teething."

"Mooom!" But I was grinning, too, and Mom knew I was clowning. She's great. She broke the tension. Laurel and Steph were both giggling, so good job.

Mom kept talking over the girls laughter. "OK, our grading appointments are at 1:00, so Steph and I will leave now. You two leave 10 minutes behind us. That'll give us a little margin for traffic. I hear showing up late for slave grading can lower your score. Remember, you aren't

with

us, you just happen to be at Quarry's."

"Mom, are you sure you know what you're getting into?" I love Mom, and some of the stuff that happens at a slave grading, well, I hate to think about her going through it.

Mom sounded amused. "Let's see. I'll show up already stripped, so that step is taken care of. I'll be devoiced chemically, restrained, probably at least wrist cuffs but maybe some kind of ankle restraint or strapped down to a chair or something, given a temporary slave collar, and then almost certainly left on display in a cage or something, or made to wander around the store restrained, naked and voiceless. Oh, and Quarry's customers will be free to do almost anything to me, especially groping. Then I'll be given a bunch of intrusive, deliberately degrading examinations, graded, and a slave chip implanted in my chest. They'll stake me out one way or another to see what kind of offers I get to enslave me. Then I'll be free to go, unless someone meets my reserve price."

"I guess you do know."

Steph spoke up. "Perv, you haven't talked about anything but being a slaver since you were 11. She's heard all about slave grading for 8 years."

"You never even met me 'til we were 14."

"And yet, it feels soooooo much longer." Laurel and Mom fought laughter, not very well. "Your mom talks about you, Perv. She actually seems to be proud of you." Well, yeah. I just never thought Steph was listening. Then again, Steph and Mom are pretty close. That's why they decided to get Slave Graded together.

"Rick, you have my car key, right?" Mom, being organized. Very typical. When she turned back to me from looking at Steph, her boobs rocked right, then left. Not typical.

Laurel held up her purse. "No, Rose, I have it. Blondie's going to drive you home in his car, and I'll bring your car back here after the grading."

Steph was a little antsy. "Rose, can we get a move on? You can do your comedy routine with Blondie later."

Mom held up one finger at Steph without looking at her, meeting my eyes. "You have Steph's and my bags and clothes in your trunk?"

"Yes, Mom. Just like this morning, when you asked me the first time. I haven't suddenly taken them out for no reason."

"See you at Quarry's. Don't accept any low offers for us!" Yeah, as their official "Custodian", I could theoretically accept offers to buy them during the slave grading. That was Mom's final joke before leaving. Like I'd let Steph or Mom be enslaved against their will.

It was weird, watching my mom and my stepsister's naked butts as they went into the garage. After a few seconds, we heard the car start up and the garage door opening.

"So, 8 years of wannabe slaver fantasies and you can't even look at a woman naked?" Laurel also likes to tease me. She immediately gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek, to show she wasn't being mean. I'll take that trade any day.

"Not just 'a woman', Sweetcheeks. My mom. I didn't have any trouble appreciating Steph naked." Sweetcheeks is Laurel's slave name, for when we roleplay.

Then we went into the garage to drive to Quarry's.

---Rose---

I was driving. I had thought I'd let Steph do it. She's an excellent driver, but she seemed even more nervous than me. I had never driven naked before. It felt weird, my middle-aged boobs sagging down, the shoulder belt uncomfortably digging into the left one. My no-longer-trim butt was certainly going to stick to the fake leather seat when I stood up, too. Should have brought towels to sit on.

"So, Steph, I know you've tried Horny Juice. Would it make these tired old girls stand up again?" I am pretty nervous, of course, so let's make conversation.

Stop at a red light. Sunburnt guy in a pickup truck and ball cap ogles me from the left-turn lane, just outside my window, then does an actual cartoon-style wolf whistle. Both Steph and I instinctively totally ignore him.

She took a deep breath. "Well, mine, I mean, you're more endowed than me. I've seen other women take it, and it definitely did give the sweater puppies a lift. Hey! How did you know I tried Horny Juice?"

It was weird how sensitive Stephanie was about her small breasts. Steph is gorgeous. Waist-length jet black hair, always carefully trimmed to a perfect half-moon just over her rear, perfect skin (she spent hundreds of dollars on imported Korean beauty products to use on her Korean skin), pretty face. She wasn't huge up front, but nobody confused her with a boy.

"Gotcha! I was guessing. I've seen you and Keith pretend-slaving. You two played around at the pool, right in front of me, a few times." I glanced over, seeing her astonished, and maybe a little chagrined, expression. "I never talked to Pete about it, if that's what you're worrying about, but he's not stupid, either. He probably has at least an inkling."

"Rose ... OK, first of all: good one. You completely fooled me."

The light was green, I started forward. Mr. Wolfwhistle stomped the accelerator, even though the left-turn signal was still red. I heard a chorus of honks.

"Is that guy super hard-up, or what? I'm not the only naked woman in town. Why would he get so hypnotized by my saggy body he forgot how to drive?"

"Rose, you maybe didn't know this, but you're a hottie. Two of my last three boyfriends talked about how hot you are. Including Keith."

"Now you're just being silly." Yeah, Keith, who has the beautiful young athlete, would talk to her about me being hot. Is this another of her pranks? "What does it

feel

like to be on Horny Juice? Is just being horny, but more of it?"

"You know it's illegal for me to have the stuff without a prescription, right? If you talk about it, I could be charged, and so could Keith." Great, I distracted her from nervousness about slave grading by making her afraid of actual judicial enslavement.

"And I won't talk about it except to you in private. Like now. Really, Steph, you know me."

"OK, fair. Sorry, but ... I have other plans than the auction block." Was that a small smile on her face? I wonder what plans.

"The way Horny Juice feels depends on the dose. A small dose makes you want sex more, makes it feel good. A huge dose is 'bitch in heat', you masturbate hard while begging anyone around to fuck you."

"That sounds undignified." It sounded terrifying.

Steph said, "I've been in Quarry's during a grading. It's definitely undignified, even without Horny Juice."

"Hey, Steph, is Keith going to be around today? I can't decide whether he'd like to see you naked and bound and silenced, or freak out about other people staring and touching."

I like Keith. I was doubtful at first. They started dating when she was 18 and he was 21, which for some reason seemed like a huge age difference. He's a sweetheart, though. After a year, he's part of the family.

Steph smiled, just at the thought of Keith. "He'll be around later, but I doubt he'll watch the entire grading. He isn't possessive, exactly, but he's too protective to just watch me getting abused. Or you, Rose, he'd hate that."

"I'm glad I'll have you there, anyway, Stephanie. It'll be a comfort." Now, why does she look guilty about that?

---Rick---

"It's kind of you to help Rose and Steph." I work at the Ishmael's Coffee House in a Quarry's department store, so I get the store discount, and I hear about sales in advance. I was able to let Steph know about a special discount on slave grading today well in advance, so she got one of the first appointments, and also share my discount. Mom heard us talk about it, and insisted on getting graded, too.

Laurel calls my mom "Rose". Like I said before, I have the cool mom, the one all my friends like.

"I hope it helps them both. I still hate that Mom feels like she has to do it. Steph is into it, I think. She smiles when it comes up. Mom's just getting through it. They both need jobs, though. Right now, women who aren't slave graded have a hard time getting anything better than fast food."

"I kind of wish I could have done it with them. I have to drive Rose's car, though."

"Why? We could have gotten it later. You should have said something, you could have had fun being graded with Steph and Mom." It's very like Laurel to sacrifice something she wants for someone else's benefit.

"It's OK. My big sister and me already made appointments at Flower Valley. Dad's our custodian. You can come and make him uncomfortable, if you want, Master." We roleplay the master/slave thing, but we're such close friends it ends up being just a game. The worst punishment I ever gave her was hand-spanking, and I mostly order her to do sexy stuff we both enjoy. Her dad, Buck, would already be super-uncomfortable with his daughters getting slave graded. A "slaver bro" from high school showing up might give him a heart attack. On the other hand, I wouldn't want to miss it.

Get through today, first. Win the Prank War!

---Rose---

Quarry's was mobbed, as usual when they were running a big sale. There were no spaces anywhere near the doors.

Steph looked nervous.

I'm sure I look nervous, too.

"Looks like a long, naked hike, Rose."

"Yeah. Keep an eye out for broken glass and shit on the ground. Not a good time to step on a nail or something." We were barefoot. Wearing anything but jewelry could lower your grade.

I parked at least 100 yards from the entrance. "Remember where the car is, Steph. We'll have to show Laurel, so she can drive it home."

"Yeah." There's that look of guilt again. Something to do with Laurel? They had never fought in front of me.

I turned off the car, put the fob in the glove compartment, and took a deep breath. "Showtime." We opened the car doors and stepped out. (There was a loud "shrrp!" sound as I pried my cheeks off the seat.) I heard the car lock behind me, which was oddly scary. I couldn't even chicken out now, no way to get back into the car.

The walk to the store took a minute, maybe 90 seconds. It felt like forever. Naked, mincing barefoot on hot asphalt--Why didn't we think about the hot asphalt?--naked, people staring, one person (Bill Harrison from the Library Association!) pointing at us, naked ... it was hard, and this was before the slave grading even started. I was glad I'd shaved "down there" that morning. It was strangely exciting to have all those people staring at me with such interest. I hadn't felt this way since I was dating, after Ed died.

---Rick---

Quarry's was mobbed, as usual when there was a big sale. Laurel and I lucked out, though: we found a space in sight of Mom's car.

I'm a barista at Ishmael's Coffee Bar, in the Quarry's lobby. My least-favorite supervisor, Ashish, came up to the counter when we were about to order. "So, Rick--I see your mother and sister are here for slave grading. I hope their difficulty will not distract you from your work."

I took a deep breath, stepped up to the counter, and leaned forward. I don't usually use my size and bulk to intimidate, but there are definitely times I like being tall and a bodybuilder. "Ashish, I'm not working today. And for the record, getting slave graded is not a "difficulty". It's a choice they are making."

"I mean no harm, Rick." He did take a half-step back. "It is merely that women being graded are subject to certain risks, and that this might be a stressful day for your family."

Laurel put a calming arm through mine and squeezed. It worked. "I'm sure that you were thinking only helpful thoughts, Ashish. May we order now?"

---Esau---

"Master Esau, there's Rick's mom" That was Billie, my slave except for the law part. I treat her like the human livestock she wants to be, though. She loves it. I usually call her "Girl." She doesn't deserve a name.

I kept my eyes on Mrs. Rick's Mom. Never saw her naked before, but she always looked great in a bathing suit at Blondie's pool parties. This was a better view. Now that's a MILF. Tall, like her kid, almost my height. Long legs, big boobs, just sagging the right amount, enough of a belly to shake if you slapped it, more than enough butt for two double-handfuls. Seemed like she got her hair done before the grading. Smart, so much of her grade would be on her looks.

Focus. "Do you see Stephanie? We're supposed to be ready to make her day interesting." Steph is amazingly beautiful, and she spent a lot of high school sneering at me. During a slave grading I could touch her. Any part of her. And do things to her. The weird thing was, her enormous muscleboy stepbrother wanted me to! Any other time, I think he'd have pulled my arms right off.

"No, Master." Billie really, really wants to be a slave girl. Since she turned 18, she's started dressing and acting her idea of slave. Too bad her ideas are a mix of

Indenture

punishment scenes, some 2010 TV miniseries called

Oasis

, and a fashion doll. Today she's wearing high-heeled sandals, two scarves for a bra, and harem pants. Sort of a desert harem costume. She doesn't look very Arab, though, with her reddish-brown hair and pale skin. She's a little chunky for that look, but she doesn't care. She likes it when people stare at her, and I think she likes it when they call her names.

She's also wearing her collar, of course. Nice silver-plated steel. None of the circuitry, though. It's just jewelry. She wears the collar whenever her mom and dad can't see her. The leash is exactly where it belongs, in my left hand.

The silver collar almost covers the neck tattoo. Every "slaver bro" ended up getting a tat. Girl has an ink collar. Laurel has a cuff on her left wrist. Blondie has the dead cow head on his arm. Me, I got a whip on my left palm. Hand tats fade. I've already had to get mine touched up twice. It's worth it.

Billie went overboard, though. That neck anchor took days to put on and cost probably thousands, even though she gave the tattoo dude a blowjob every day he worked on her. Nice ink, though.

"Rose looks just like her kid, doesn't she, Girl?" Long blonde hair, tall for a woman, pale skin but no freckles. The face looks better on his mom, though.

"Or you, Esau. Your hair's curlier, though." She twirled one of my curls around a finger, then leaned in to kiss my cheek. Yeah, we're both blonde and pale and stuff, but he's a body-builder. And he's six foot six or something. I guess do have similar faces, though. Huh.

---Rick---

Carrying our coffee, not hurrying, Laurel and I wandered around the store a little. We looked at the phone cases, picked out a new stainless steel water bottle for her, then "randomly" wandered near the area used for slave grading. The message was, "No, Mr. Slave Grader, we aren't here as Steph and Mom's safety net. We're just bystanders."

The graders had handled the initial rush, silencing and stripping and collaring, then put everyone in storage and were now taking their break. Today's crop was almost all female, I only saw one man there for grading, which is pretty typical. They had him on hands and knees, chained to four eyebolts so he couldn't move hand or foot more than an inch. A couple of passing shoppers were taking turns spanking his butt, it looked like. He was wincing, little grunts coming through what looked like a penis gag. Had he pissed off a grader already? That seemed like a deliberate humiliation.

Esau and Billie casually wandered over to talk to us. Nothing suspicious there, we're all old high school friends, right. Somewhere in the crowd, Guy and Ernie and Delia were casually wandering, too, ready to act. Not suspicious at all: us slaver bros came to slave gradings just to watch, cop a few feels.

"Hey, Esau, Billie." Casual, keep it casual. The stink of weed was strong around them. They must have been smoking in Esau's van, the "Mastery Machine", right before they came in.

"Blondie." Esau was poker face. "Found your mom. She's around on the other side of the mob. Trouble for your plan--we can't locate Stephanie at all."

"Weird. Is she already being graded or something?"

"They haven't graded anyone, that I can see. They just finished restraining the last new slave like a minute ago, and they always let people get nervous before they do anything." Esau was trying his best to look casual, but he was almost bouncing on his toes. Gradings are exciting!

Billie chimed in, "Even if Stephanie was first, she'd still be in there getting graded. It takes half an hour, minimum, and it's only 1:20 now."