by Bridy McAvoy
It was Kayla’s turn to suck in air as the youngest of the students did precisely as Chris had said.
She felt his fingers line up either side of her slit and press tightly, holding her there for several seconds before relaxing. Once he’d let go, she bent down and looked, there was another clear handprint there. In the space of the last couple of minutes both men had touched her intimately and she was now filthy to boot, covered in grease dust and dirt, with dark handprints on her previously clean clothes. Since Chris had made it clear they were going to be cleaning her, not her cleaning herself, she started to really get worried about their actions.
“Right, swap the tubs over, guys. Gotta protect that delicate beautiful skin.”
Kayla looked back over her shoulder and watched as Phil removed the tub they’d been using and produced a second one from the cab of the forklift. The contents of this one looked similar, if not quite the right shade of lurid green. She wiped her fingers on a cloth the two guys provided then stuck her finger into the new tub. She could tell the difference immediately, this was simply wash up liquid, and rather more liquid—she also suspected it was going to take longer to clean off grease with it.
“Right, Kayla, I need you to do one thing for me, and if you like you can go behind the forklift to do it. I want the guys to clean their hands and lose the overalls but, first, I’d like them to put some handprints under your clothes—one on each breast and one on your belly. If you’d prefer to do that in private, then you can. Once they’ve put their marks on you that way, pull your clothes back down carefully and then come back out front.”
She had been wondering how they were going to clean her up without getting her constantly dirtied again, so part of what he said made sense. The other part gave her pause to think. Chris wanted her to lift her shirt and let these guys put their dirty hands on her bare breasts, and she shuddered at the prospect. Even worse, she was going to have to drop the shorts and allow them to do the same down there, too. It couldn’t be a fleeting contact either; they would need to hold her quite hard to make sure they got the required transfer. Kayla decided to make light of it, she didn’t want Chris to see how much it concerned her.
“What, privacy at some point today? Wow, you do me an honor.”
Chris shrugged.
“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, my dear.”
“And pointing that out is the action of a complete prat!”
She regretted the words the minute she’d uttered them—she could see Chris stiffen and his eyes flashed his anger. He kept the smile on his face and mocked her by giving her a bow. She didn’t say another word, but instead walked around the back of the forklift and the two fake mechanics followed along. She giggled at the thought of them following her like puppies, but she was really giggling to keep her spirits up as she thought about how bad a mistake she might have just made.
Once out of sight of the other three she turned to the two men.
“Right, behave yourselves, you two!”
She turned to Phil and wagged her finger under his nose.
“And no more spanking. It’s not my thing, okay?”
“Okay, but…”
“Yeah, I know, Chris wants a handprint on my breasts, on my butt and on my belly. That does not give you two carte blanche for a feel—are we clear on that?”
They both nodded.
“Good.”
Without looking at either of them, she grabbed the hem of the t-shirt and jerked it up, forgetting it was so tight.
“Damn!”
“You want a hand?”
“No, thank you.”
She wriggled the t-shirt higher, a couple of inches at a time, aware of their eyes watching its progress up her chest. She reached the line of her nipples and pulled it higher, allowing her breasts to fall and jiggle in the open air. The combination of exposing herself and the cooler air inside the unit made her nipples stand out even more and she cursed their responsiveness. At home it was a benefit, but here it was a drawback.
“I guess it’s one hand each, gentlemen?”
They nodded, and both of them moved to stand next to her. She closed her eyes and braced herself—she didn’t want to see the disgusting sight of their dirty hands approaching her, she knew she’d flinch if she watched.
Phil grabbed her right breast and Brad grabbed her left. She could feel her nipples responding to the contact but both men were good, they kept their hands still, not trying to move them around to caress or excite her—they didn’t try to cop a feel beyond holding her. Kayla mentally counted to five and then opened her eyes.
“I think you can let go now, guys.”
They smiled at her and stood back, both of them looking at their hands. She glanced down at herself and blanched—they had followed Chris’s orders and there were now two large black handprints on her chest, both of them centered on her nipples, with a pattern of fingers radiating upward. She looked up at the two men.
“Gee, thanks, guys. Just what I always wanted.”
They both chuckled and Brad asked her a question.
“Chris doesn’t want them smudged; you want a hand getting the shirt back down?”
He was no mental slouch this guy—he’d correctly worked out she didn’t intend to drop her shorts until she’d recovered her breasts, but he was still going for a chance to touch her once more. Chris’s voice floated to them from the doorway, echoing in the cavernous space.
“A handprint on her back would be nice, too—not the same as the one on her butt.”
She frowned but shrugged—having allowed them to come this far, there wasn’t much point in not complying with Chris’s instructions.
“So, which one of you gets to print my ass? The other one had best do my back.”
Brad spoke up first, but she could see Phil had been about to speak, too.
“I get the ass this time, so you get the back, Phil.”
Kayla allowed herself a little smile—at least Brad was the best looking, and youngest, one of the four mature students, so she felt a little more comfortable letting him touch her than she did with the others. Her breathing was already quick and shallow from the events of the last few minutes, despite the grunge.
Phil placed his hand on the small of her back and she leaned back into him, conscious he couldn’t put any pressure on her without making her stumble, then, as he withdrew his hand, she reached for the t-shirt which was bunched around her neck. It proved difficult to pull the t-shirt down into place, given it was a size too small, but also given she had to try not to smudge the marks the two men had left on her breasts.
It took her a couple of minutes, and she stood there breathing heavily, plucking up the courage to carry out the next part of Chris’s requirements. She took a huge gulp of air then pushed the shorts down off her hips. They were as much of a struggle as her shirt had been—Chris’s insistence on too tight clothing made this part of the operation harder than it might have been.
She wriggled the shorts downward, and could see the two guys watching her carefully, enjoying every movement, every sexy wiggle of her ass, and the way her breasts shook inside the t-shirt. After a few seconds of struggle they made their way down onto her legs, turning inside out in the process and fully exposing her pussy to the guys for the first time today. At least in the earlier shoot she’d only been partially exposed, even if one of the other photographers had touched her. She shivered at the memory then turned to the pair with her.
“Make it quick.”
She turned her back to Brad and bent over a little at the waist, pushing her butt toward him. Looking back over her shoulder she could see him admiring the view rather than getting on with placing the handprint on her ass.
“Get on with it.”
“Just deciding on the angle of attack!”
She looked back round to see Phil watching her carefully, then saw his eyes widen.
Smack!
“Jeez! You weren’t supposed to do that!”
“S
orry, it was such a tempting target and it produced the best possible result. You’ve got a perfect print there. Phil, what do you think?”
She was tempted to rub the sore spot but held off, knowing the result was what counted and not wanting to go through this again. Kayla kept still as Phil walked around to check the results from Brad, and her lips compressed into a thin line as he, too, took his time admiring the view.
“Very nice.”
She straightened up and turned to face them again. “One of you gets the belly print and one of you gets the thigh print, I guess. I’m warning you, though, I don’t want that crap anywhere near my pussy or, for that matter, anywhere near that little patch of blonde hair—understood?”
They both nodded and looked at each other. She was then treated to the unedifying spectacle of two grown men playing three rounds of rock, paper, scissors to decide which one touched her where! She rolled her eyes. “Men!”
They just shrugged and completed the third and final round of the game which Phil won.
“Belly.”
His triumphant selection surprised her, since he had to stay away from her mound. She’d have thought the prize was putting the handprint on her inner thigh, but as Phil crouched down in front of her and pushed his hand firmly against her belly she could only stand still, her muscles trembling as he leaned in for a closer look at her pussy. She could feel his breathing blowing gently across the lips of her slit, and the unexpected stimulation brought a sudden depth to her arousal.
“God! Stop that!”
He chuckled and stood up, moving to one side to allow Brad to crouch down in front of her and place his handprint in the inside of her thigh. He repeated the maneuver Phil had, putting his face close to her mound and deliberately blowing on her pussy with Phil watching every move. She closed her eyes and, as the images of a fantasy involving Brad extending his tongue and licking her down there played across her closed eyelids, she couldn’t suppress a shudder of anticipation.
“Um…Musky!”
She felt herself blush yet again as the fact he could smell her arousal penetrated her brain and she knew her thighs were betraying her as they trembled and went weak. She snapped her eyes open and took a partial step backward, disengaging his hand in the process then scrambled to pull the shorts up and back into position.
Once there she took several deep breaths trying to get back in control of herself as the two guys turned their attention away from her and concentrated instead on getting themselves ready for the next part of the shoot. This involved on using the real gunk to clean off the grease from their hands and stripping off the overalls, leaving them in a pile on the floor, revealing once more their t-shirts and jeans.
Kayla was impressed with the speed with which the gunk worked, and within a few minutes the two men were as clean as they had been before getting themselves ready for this shoot. She, on the other hand was filthy, and the clothes, once pure white, were ruined beyond the capability of cleaning. Kayla just hoped she’d manage to get cleaned up herself. Going home with even the recognizable remnant of handprints on her breasts would require more explanation than she was prepared to give her husband. Not that she wanted to use the real gunk; the thought of the abrasive element on her more sensitive bits was horrifying.
The three of them walked round to find the other guys waiting for them. Chris handed Kayla a bottle of water and the two guys a beer.
“Don’t I get a beer?”
“Sorry, didn’t think you’d want one—the toilet facilities are somewhat rudimentary until we get to the next location.”
“How rudimentary is rudimentary?”
He shrugged.
“Corner of the yard, rudimentary.”
“Yuk!”
“Quite.”
“Anyway, I thought you were off the beer till Teri could have a drink with you—that’s what you said at the barbeque the other night.”
Chris winced and she realized she’d given more information away about herself than she was supposed to—the fact she and Chris socialised was something he wanted kept from the other guys.
“Who says I’m drinking. That’s my water, sweetie.”
He winked at her, his usual confidence replacing the momentary lapse.
“Right, let’s get to work. Kayla, if you could move back to the front of the forklift, please. Guys, your positions, if you please.”
Chapter 4
When she turned back to the forklift she could see Chris and the other two had been busy while she’d been exposing herself to Phil and Brad behind the same vehicle. The rough wooden pallet now had what looked like a sheet of ply laid on top of it, with a woolen blanket on top. She didn’t need to be told she’d be on top of there at some point during the shoot, almost certainly lying there naked. The wool might be a little scratchy but it would definitely stop her getting splinters in her butt.
“Right. Now, Kayla, Brad, Phil, I’m going to run with this as it flows. I’m not going to keep stopping and starting you, and posing Kayla. All I’m going to do is make suggestions about what to do next. Kayla, just go with it. This stuff is kind to your skin, so there’s no worries and we might dilute it a bit from time to time. It’ll get you clean; you don’t have to explain grease on your tits when you get home, or on any other part of you, okay?”
She bit her lip and nodded, as the other two guys picked up their cameras and she could see them twisting at the focus rings.
“Right, we’ll start out with you standing in the middle. Stretch your arms out to either side. Guys, get some of the stuff on your fingers and start rubbing, gently at the marks on her arms…good.”
It felt slimy and not particularly nice, and Kayla looked down at her arm, fascinated to see the way the thick liquid moved around on her arms. She watched as Brad picked up another glob and dumped it on her forearm, sliding his fingers higher up her arm, spreading the stuff over her skin. Where it touched the grease marks it went cloudy and she could see it working. At the edges of the area it oozed around, flowing slowly under gravity and, as he worked it into her arm, and Phil did the same thing on the other side, it occasionally bubbled up just as it would in a bowl when you added water.
“Pause for a moment. Kayla, I’m going to add a little water on your arms. I’ve had the bottle standing in the sun but it might be a little cold still.”
He was using an indoor spray bottle, and misted each arm in a couple of squeezes of the trigger. The water hit her skin and raised goose bumps—but not many. The sun had done its job and taken the chill off the water. That didn’t matter too much on her arms but it would definitely matter later on when it came to the rest of her body. She tried to suppress the shiver of anticipation but she was sure both Phil and Brad felt it as they returned to their task.
The change in the consistency of the liquid on her arms was instant as the two guys continued with the process of smothering her forearms with it. Now it didn’t ooze around as much and it lathered up a bit, producing bubbles of soap film on her arms. The overall sensation wasn’t unpleasant and she could see her skin emerging clean underneath the thin film and bubbles.
She smiled and flexed her shoulders to keep herself loose and continued to watch as the two men, at a signal from Chris, moved onto her upper arms. Once more Chris stepped in and misted her arms—this time much closer to her body, and some of the spray landed on her sides. The guy’s hands were closer to her too and, as they worked on cleaning her arms and covering her in the soapy stuff, their hands would brush against the sides of her breasts. The innocence of these apparently casual touches were something she doubted but kept her thoughts to herself. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the massaging hands, although once more a fantasy of the two men rubbing her breasts in this way played across her mind. Her breathing quickened and she felt her nipples once more start to harden and rub against the fabric of the t-shirt every time she moved.
“I think her legs need attention.”
The two guys crouched down either s
ide of her and started to spread the gunk around her knees. There weren’t any grease marks below her knees.
“Don’t you want to spray water first?”
Chris shook his head as he answered the question. “No—this stuff cleans off the grease much better if it’s applied neat to start with.” He turned to the two photographers who had been unobtrusive as they snapped away. “Are you getting this okay?”
Andy nodded but Steve spoke up. “Sort of, but the legs are a problem.”
“My legs are a problem?” Kayla made her voice sound hurt and, when the other men laughed, Steve looked a little nonplussed but quickly replied.
“No…It’s not your legs—they’re really nice, it’s the lighting. With the sun behind us I’m finding it hard to keep everyone’s shadows off the image.”
Chris nodded. “Okay, well…does anyone have a solution to Steve’s problem?”
Kayla jumped a little as, beside her, Brad raised his hand.
“We could lift her up here.”
He was indicating the improvised platform on the front of the forklift. She’d already worked out she was going to end up on there anyway, but this was somehow different.
“Good idea. Will you and Phil do the honors? Be careful, she’s slippery and so are your hands.”
“I’ll climb up there myself, thank you very much!”
They all chuckled but Kayla ignored them and turned to the platform which was about two feet off the ground. She boosted herself up on her hands, raised one knee to the edge then pushed herself all the way on before turning to face them, still on her knees.
“Stand up, please, Kayla. Thank you…and come to the edge of the platform, it should be stable—we weighted it at the back.”
She thought the structure had wobbled a bit as she climbed on but as she stood, then inched toward the edge and the waiting group of men, it didn’t wobble anymore.
