The Stall Setting her towel out on the pool chair, Chelsea sat herself down, stretching her slim figure over the plastic chair to relax. The sun beat down from above, light shimmering off the pool and dancing across her pale, damp skin. Adjusting her sunglasses, Chelsea shifted to get a wrinkle out of the towel underneath and lazily closed her eyes, hands hidden underneath the mass of long, blonde hair around her head. This would be the fourth day in a row she'd been at the little camp pool, and from the look of the dark clouds visible on the horizon, it would be her last for a while. A loud, girlish squeal made her eyes open, and she raised her head slightly to investigate. A girl nearby, about her age, was simultaneously blushing and glaring furiously at her little brother. It took a second for Chelsea to notice the girl adjusting her orange bikini bottom. The joys of being an only child, she thought smugly, watching the grinning kid return to his chair. Laying her head back down, she let her eyes close again. The wind was beginning to blow gently over her body, making the nearby trees rustle softly. She would have to head back soon or risk getting caught by the rain, and she had no intention of catching a cold... especially with everything she had planned. Smiling to herself, she stretched lazily, and rolled over onto her back. Head tilted to one side, she watched the other people around the little pool. The girl was leaning forward to help one of her other siblings out of the pool. As Chelsea watched, the little kid ran up and in a flash had the poor girls' bikini bottom down to her knees. Chelsea rolled over and sat up in surprise, taking her glasses off as the madly blushing girl struggled with the damp bikini. She succeeded in covering herself only to bolt after her younger brother, who launched himself into the safety of the pool. Chelsea stared at the girl in confusion... she had gotten a split second look at the girls hairless privates, but in itself that wasn't as interesting as the black, Y-shaped tattoo that had started from her anus upwards to her sex and split off to end either side of her labia. "That must have hurt," she muttered, cringing despite her envy. Absently she adjusted her own pale blue bikini, feeling the way it slid over her full, firm breasts. Her parents would never let her get a tattoo, let alone one so... naughty! A gust of cold wind brought goose-bumps to her skin, and she found herself shivering. Time to leave, she thought sadly, climbing off the seat. Gathering the towel around herself, she slipped her sandals on and headed off back to the tent. The fog slowly crept in across the cold, damp earth, sending pale, moonlit tendrils searching amidst the collection of tents scattered through the trees dotting the camping ground. The moon stood high in the sky, casting sharp shadows over the multitude of canvas shapes, their heavy surfaces glistening with rain recently ended. High in the trees and already burdened by the weight of water gathering in its curve, a leaf gave way, sending a drop plummeting down to land heavily against the top of a small dome tent. The sound rang clear in the silence of the night, joined a moment later by another somewhere in the distance. The single occupant of the tent opened her eyes, and smiled deviously. The minute motion caused the airbed underneath Chelsea to move ever so slightly, transmitting each breath through her body. Her blonde hair made a silvery halo around her head, illuminated by the moonlight casting visible shadows on the outside of the tent. She looked around quickly, as if anyone else was watching inside the tent. Her parents would be sleeping nearby, blissfully unaware of their young daughters' intentions. She herself was unwilling to leave the warm embrace of her sleeping bag, and snuggled into its warmth, her silken night clothes sliding over her slim, 16-year-old figure. Her heart-shaped face firming with decisiveness, she pushed back the top of her sleeping bag and crawled out of the warm pocket she had created. She shivered, rubbing her thighs and pushing back the silk boxer-shorts covering her loins. She smiled mischievously to see the lightly haired lips nestled between her legs, but she pulled her shorts up again anyway. Putting the towel with its bundled contents she had prepared earlier under one arm, Chelsea slipped on her sandals. Trying to remain as quiet as possible, she took hold of the tent's zip and began to draw it upwards. As soon as she had enough space to slip through she was outside, pulling the zip back down again. Feeling terribly exposed, she clutched her bundle close and hurried off into the night, breasts bouncing freely underneath the silk top clinging to her form. The square building of the toilet block stood only a few tents away, the fluorescent lights beyond the door providing a reassuring, white illumination on the concrete surrounding it. Trying not to let her sandals slap against her feet too much, she darted past all the tents and slipped through the doorway. Her plan wasn't nearly complete though. Placing her possessions on the sink that lay directly through the door, she plucked her stolen key from within her plain white towel and hurried to the door. She let out a nervous giggle as she pushed it closed and slipped the key into the lock. Relief was visible on her face as it clicked, telling her it was secure. She was alone. She knew that she could make as much noise as she wanted in here, and no-one could hear. She had spent some time outside, listening. The toilet block was silent. Heart pounding, she returned the key to her towel and hurried down the shower stalls to the second last one... the completely glass stall. Grinning mischievously, she pulled off the sign saying "Do Not Touch" and opened the transparent door to the stall. Putting her things down on the shelf inside, her gaze passed over the broken wood-grain sheets sitting propped up against the opposite wall. Whatever the building had been beforehand, the smooth, glassy walls and doors had been merely covered over when they converted it to its present usage. A few helpful vandals had torn the coverings off every internal wall in the entire back end of the building, leaving them open and perfect for fuelling Chelsea dark, exhibitionistic thoughts that had dampened her sleeping bag the last few nights. Her hands shaking, she slipped off her boxer-shorts and placed the silken garment on top of her towel. Blushing strongly, she forced herself to look down and admire herself, spreading her legs and thrusting her hips out, studying the tiny wisps of hair around her mons and the way her figure flowed into her long legs. She felt so open in the glass stall, and loved it. Boldly, she turned around and, with her back to the door, bent over and spread her firm butt cheeks, imagining she was showing herself to her Master. The air blowing over her soft, pink anus took her breath away, almost causing her knees to give way. "Yes Sir," Chelsea breathed in response to an imagined command. Straightening, she stripped off her top and turned to face the empty building, her bosom heaving with each nervously excited breath. Her ribs were barely visible underneath her skin, testament to the high metabolism she had. "For you," she said, shakily cupping her breasts and offering them up. Her dark nipples stood prominently out from the pale flesh, filled with blood in the cold air. Pale green eyes fell on her discarded clothing as she lowered her hands. The next step scared her, but she had promised herself to do it. Picking up the flimsy silk clothes in one hand, she exited the stall and dashed off naked down to the row of sinks jutting out from the wall. Placing her clothes on the furthest sink, she swallowed hard and ran back down to her stall, feet slapping against the cold tiles. She had done it... she had left them there. Her heart was thumping somewhere near her throat as she closed the door to the second-last stall. All but the rear wall was transparent, making her feel like she was on display in some sort of glass zoo. She had to try several times before her hands stopped shaking enough to open her bundle across the shelf. "But Sir..." she breathed, looking pitifully up at her imaginary owner. She could almost feel his eyes on her, studying her nudity even as he shook his head firmly. She swallowed, and looked down at the stolen enema kit amidst her collection of items. She had found it a few days ago amidst her parents' belongings, along with the fat butt-plug that went with it and several other kinky things that made her mind boggle at their possible usage. It had explained why her parents had insisted on getting a separate room for her when they had stayed at the hotel. She knew exactly what an enema was, and glanced over at the glass walls surrounding the toilet directly opposite her stall. Her pale green eyes widened at the enormity of what she had planned, but the tingling in her sex was a strong motivation. Her entire body was shaking as she picked up the limp rubber bag and took it over to the shower-head. Pulling the gleaming steel head down, she turned on the taps and adjusted them until a steady stream of hot water issued from it. Holding the bag under the flow whilst trying to avoid getting wet, she clumsily filled it to the brim. Using her own logic, Chelsea had surmised that the soap in the water must help mask the smell as it came out. Picking up her little liquid-soap dispenser, she added a copious amount to the bag and gave it a good shake. It took a lot of concentration for her to screw in the tubing, during which she sloshed a little on the floor. The bag had a little plastic hook on the end, which she used to hang it from the shower-head. Smearing the fat, white nozzle with even more soap, she got down onto all fours on the tiled floor and placed it at her rear. "Please, Sir," she begged her imaginary Master, staring up where she guessed he would be. Her gaze fell a moment later, and she took a deep breath. "Oh!" she gasped as the nozzle slid into her behind. The soap made its entry easy, and in a few seconds she had the plastic shield at its base pressed snug against her skin. "Don't open it," she begged again, imagining it was her Master who had his fingers on the valve, rather than herself. With a click she released it, letting the water burst forth into her bowels. "Ah..." she sighed, her eyes going wide and unfocused as the warmth spread within her. Her young face was full of wonder at the new sensation, blonde hair hanging freely over her shoulders. She wriggled her upturned butt excitedly, feeling her breasts sway freely underneath her. Looking up, she imagined all the people standing around her stall, watching as the nameless girl inside filled her rear with soapy water. Moaning, she reached down and let her fingers explore the wet petals of her sex. The enema was tingling inside her, a strange, not entirely unpleasant sensation. She could feel it building within her... building... "Mm," she moaned unhappily as her stomach cramped. She felt so full, but a glance over her shoulder said the bag had still more than three-quarters of the water in it. "Please Sir, it hurts," she pleaded, the hand between her legs moving back to hold the nozzle inside her. She needed to go so badly, but she had to take more! Why would they make a bag so big if that was all that would fit? With a motion that nearly made her gasp, the water continued up into her belly. She furiously rubbed her clit as she concentrated on the pressure flowing further into her colon. She could feel it moving! A quick glance showed her it was half full. She imagined her Master telling her that she had to take it all, and whimpered. She cramped again, her face clenched in concentration. It was getting harder to hold... She panicked, and sprung forward, grabbing for the butt plug. The nozzle slid from her rear, making it even harder. The cramp grew worse with the movement, and she began to leak. "Oh damn!" she breathed, slipping the plug into her behind. She sighed loudly in relief, and returned to all fours to let the cramp pass. "Gross!" she muttered, feeling the escaped water running back underneath her. With one hand on her belly, she stood up and turned on the taps to wash it away. Adjusting them so the flow was nice and hot, she relaxed, letting the warmth soothe her. Her belly didn't feel too bad, so she plucked her soap from her towel and lathered her hands up. Stepping out of the flow, she rubbed herself all over, coating her skin in soap. The water abruptly cut off as she made to step in again, a soft click sounding from within the wall. Chelsea frowned, and turned to the taps. Giving each a twist produced nothing; the water seemed to have disappeared. But the soapy water in her belly had not, and her pretty face twisted with another cramp. "It hurts, Sir," Chelsea mewled, trying to maintain her fantasy. Holding her belly, she waddled to the door and tried to twist the metal handle. "Oh crap," she cursed, jiggling the piece of metal. It was jammed! As if on queue, her belly cramped yet again, bringing her to her knees. Whilst there, she realised that escaping underneath the door was impossible too, as it was too low. Trying not to panic, she looked around quickly. The shower drain! Feeling terribly foolish and humiliated, Chelsea crawled to the drain and squatted over it. There was no other choice, she had to go NOW! Placing her hand on the butt plug, Chelsea sobbed quietly. It felt awful, but she couldn't do it! She cramped again, bringing tears to her eyes. Taking as deep a breath as she could with her full belly, she pulled the butt plug out. She looked down at herself, and as she did, she felt one of the tiles shift underneath her. "Huh!" she exclaimed, clenching hard to stop the flow. Her belly felt much better even with the small amount she had let out so far. She let out a shriek as the tile cracked, the ground seemingly pushing up underneath. Straightening up and flattening her self against the wall, Chelsea stared down in confusion as something silver moved within. Something pushed against her back, and as she stepped forward, one of the tiles fell away and shattered on the floor, scattering tiny pieces everywhere. Turning around, she stared at the freshly exposed silver wall behind it, and the gleaming steel arm extending from it. "Oh... s...shit!" she stammered, backing away from the wall in terror. She raised one arm to cover her breasts, the other firmly holding her distended belly. Her eyes widened a split second before the arm flashed out, catching her arm by the wrist. "SHIT!" she screamed, feeling the arm from the floor close around her ankle. Two more were already emerging from the floor and wall, ready to capture her other limbs. "Oh no, please no!" she begged in terror, her soapy feet slipping on the wet floor. The arm caught her other wrist as she began to fall, and lifted her up into the air. "Please!" she cried at the impassive wall, her free leg flailing wildly. A few seconds later it was also captured by the cold, steel arms. "Please, someone help!" she screamed, looking around her glass prison as the arms seemed to pause. But the door was locked, and the walls provided an effective sound-proofing, muting her frantic cries. The sound of more tiles shattering brought her focus back to the wall. The machine seemed to be gaining speed now, and she felt a second pair of cuffs close around her thighs. She twisted wildly, but was unable to escape the third arm closing its circular cuff around her throat. "No, no, no..." she kept repeating through her cries, helpless as the machine drew her legs up to her chest. She could feel the steady drip of the liquid escaping from her rear in this position, the pressure it put on her belly too much to contain. She began to sob uncontrollably when she saw what was emerging from beneath the floor tiles. A single, glistening silver dildo, its surface covered in evenly shaped ribs from the top to the rounded shield at the base. "Please, no..." she choked as it slowly approached her body. Its slow approach was deceptive, as it smoothly followed every little move she made to try and place her self out of its path. Her mouth dropped open and she squealed loudly as it began to sink into her bowels, impaling her upon the cold, hard steel. It was still moving when she realised that it had trapped the enema within her, and she had no way of expelling the soapy liquid now. The almost empty rubber bag flopped to the ground as another arm emerged in front of her face, uncoiling to expose a short, stubby dildo at its end. Chelsea struggled wildly as it approached her mouth, at the last moment clenching her jaw and baring her teeth defiantly. The machine paused for a second, and then she felt the arm encircling her throat begin to constrict rapidly. Chelsea's eyes went wide, and she took a few gasping breaths before her air was cut off. Panic quickly set in, and her mouth opened in a vain attempt to breathe. The dildo began to slide in smoothly, whilst Chelsea struggled for air. The collar relaxed a moment later, and she gasped, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had given up crying, now totally convinced the machine was going to kill her. The shield at the base of the dildo touched her lips, forcing her to breathe through her nose. She started to gag on it, but her head was trapped and she had no way of pulling back from the invader. Her tongue explored the strangely soft underside of the dildo as she heard more tiles crack. With the dildo in her mouth and the arm holding it in the way, she couldn't see what was happening below. The feeling of helplessness was intense, surpassed only by her terror. The cool touch at her labia wasn't entirely unexpected, but Chelsea squealed in outrage anyway. She mentally prepared herself for the impending violation, but the dildo didn't penetrate her. Its smooth surfaces slid up between her labia at an angle, pressing into the soft flesh. The vibration took her by surprise, making her eyes widen and her jaw bite down on the dildo. Whimpering pitifully, she tried to wriggle out of reach of the increasingly pleasant vibrations, but the dildo impaled in her behind was an uncomfortable restraint, keeping her pelvis firmly in position. "Nah!" she gurgled around the dildo in her mouth, pulling futilely at the rock-solid arms. She could feel herself moistening despite her resistance, and sobbed with humiliation. The dildo-arm began to move, slowly rubbing up and down between her cleft. The vibrations felt glorious against her sensitive clit, the smooth motion bringing waves of pleasure to her body. Chelsea began to respond to it after a few minutes of attention, pushing her hips forward for more. She shut her eyes in shame, lips sealed around the dildo as she breathed through her nose. Her face contorted briefly as the water made her belly cramp, but the pain seemed to only enhance the sensations for her. She felt a pang of disappointment as the dildo pulled away, which she promptly chastised herself for. She wasn't supposed to be enjoying it; she was supposed to be... Her eyes sprung open as it slid smoothly into her defenceless vagina, and she moaned loudly. Her face took on an expression of absolute pleasure as it began to stroke in and out of her body, its continued vibrations touching her deeply. The enema still gurgling inside her already made her feel full, with the dildo filling her behind, each full stroke into her sex made her dizzy with the pain and pleasure as she was stretched wide. In and out it went, at random times withdrawing completely only to make her squeal as she was impaled once again. Her fantasy returned, and she could once again feel the gazes of the people watching her being taken by the machine... staring... smiling... stroking themselves... An orgasm washed over her body, and she cried her pleasure around the dildo in her mouth. The one in her behind began to move, a slower pace than the other, but overwhelming her young mind with pleasure and discomfort. She was straining against the arms again, but only so she could touch herself... to rub her clit... her hard, attention-starved nipples... but the arms stayed firm, resisting every motion. The frustration and sensations were too much for her, and another draining orgasm shook her body, eliciting a long, drawn out moan from deep within her heaving chest. The arms stopped their ministrations suddenly, and Chelsea sighed in relief. As much as she had been enjoying herself, she was glad it was over now... The dildo in her mouth withdrew, retracting back into the wall. Swallowing a few times, Chelsea looked down at herself over the collar, taking in the sight of her lips stretched around the dildo still buried to the hilt in her loins. She was looking down as another tile cracked, and yet another arm raised itself up. Chelsea began to frown in annoyance, but the sight of the pointed, needle-like end on it made her panic. "NO!" she screamed, renewing her struggles as it rose up between her legs. "NO... PLEASE!" she cried, helpless as it reached the soft skin between the two dildos still inside her. Something prickled her inner thigh, slipping under her skin and back out again. Chelsea struggled to see what was happening as a sharp buzzing filled the air. Her eyes beginning to feel heavy, she struggled against the sedative. The pain that lanced through the sensitive area between her legs felt dull, like a distant memory... Chelsea awoke suddenly, sitting up and bumping her head into the soft canvas roof of her tent. For a moment she was disoriented, memories of her violation conflicting with the soft warmth of her sleeping bag. Gradually she realised where she was, and flopped back down onto her bed. Was it just a dream...? She stared at the soft shadows on the tent, wondering. "Oh, shit," she breathed, springing out of her sleeping bag. She had to return the... Her hands pushed open the bundle next to her bed, and exhaled in relief. She must have returned it last night... she didn't remember though... Replacing her soft nightclothes for some clothing more suitable for outside, Chelsea exited the tent and walked over to the Camper Van where her parents were hopefully still sleeping. It was still tightly zipped up, and so she had to spend a minute opening it whilst trying to be quiet. Once inside, the heavy canvas made the inside dark and shadowy. With ease she navigated the almost unseen obstacles to get to her parents open suitcase. Glancing to her parents' bed to ensure they weren't looking, she lifted one edge of the suitcase and pushed back a few clothes. She almost sighed in relief at the familiar appearance of the enema bag. With a quick search to ensure nothing else had been disturbed, she snuck back out of the Van. Abandoning her silence, she began preparing some breakfast for herself. "You okay, dear?" her mother asked, frowning at Chelsea. "Huh... what?" she asked, looking up from where she had been staring at the table. "Yeah, I'm fine!" Chelsea gave her mother a reassuring smile, and returned to nibbling at her slice of toast. It had been so real... "Morning," her father grumbled, wandering into the annex of the Van in only a pair of shorts. Both Chelsea and her mother cringed at his appearance. "Honey... why don't you get dressed?" her mother asked. "Pah," her father replied sleepily, hitting the power on the little TV set up in one corner. "Oh, turn that off," Chelsea's mother said exasperatedly. "It's too early." "Quiet," he snapped, paying close attention to the image slowly appearing as it warmed. "...advises residents to be careful of the local water, because of a chemical spill. Whilst the Council says it poses no danger to anyone's health, they warn that exposure could have hallucinogenic effects, possibly causing confusion, daydreams, or even full visions. If you show signs, please contact you..." Click. "Much better," Chelsea's mother said, frowning sternly at her father. "Now, get a shirt on before I 'accidentally' burn your toast!" Chelsea was still picking at her own breakfast, but her mind was whirling. Visions... water... that was what it had been! Taking a mouthful of toast, she chewed hard to hide her smile of relief. She hadn't had a long shower, but with all the contaminated water she'd had inside her... she must have dreamt the whole thing! Feeling a lot happier now that she knew it had been all in her head, she finished her toast and left the table. "Going to the toilet," she called, hurrying outside. It was an effort to stop her self from jumping with happiness as she walked to the toilet block. Her mind kept replaying the events of last night... the penetration... the orgasms... Her cheeks were flushed by the time she reached the sturdy brick building, and she could feel her clit tingling with arousal. Perhaps she would stop off at her tent for a few minutes on the way back... She wasn't alone this time in the girls' toilet; there were several others she had to push past to get inside. Pausing inside to look around, she almost expected to see her silk boxers and top still next to the sink. She smiled at the thought, but there were no clothes there. Instead, right where she had found it a few days ago sat a key, its familiar tag identifying it as the one for the toilet block. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked at its golden surface. She was surprised that it had been left there again... perhaps she herself had put it there last night? "I must have," she mumbled, and started off to find a toilet. A frown crossed her face as she noticed the girl from the pool, standing in the middle of the walkway. She was peering into the vandalised stalls, ignoring everything around her. Chelsea frowned as she came up behind the other girl. The girl seemed to come to herself, and realise she was being watched. Mumbling an apology, she turned and hurried off past Chelsea. The 16-year-old couldn't help see the look of confusion on the girls face. Shrugging it off, Chelsea looked down into the stalls herself. There were no broken tiles there... nothing out of the ordinary at all. Relieved that she hadn't left anything behind, she pushed the door open on the nearby stall and locked the door. "It had been so real," she breathed, imagining herself back in the grasp of the machine. Sitting herself on the toilet, she pulled her pants down and began to touch herself, imagining the arm massaging her. "Mm," she moaned softly, slipping a finger into her folds. Spreading her legs wide, she began to rub at her growing clit, her lidded eyes seeing the cold, steel dildo disappearing into her behind. She looked down at herself, intending to visualise the dildo pushing between her lips. At first she thought it was a trick of the light, but it only took a second for her body to grow cold. "Oh... s...s...shit..." she stammered, leaning forward and pushing her hips out to see easier. The marking was clear and identical to what she had seen earlier. "B...but...how!" she breathed, her green eyes wide in horror. Starting either side of her labia and joining up to disappear out of view, was the thick, black tattoo. Up close, she could make out the delicate tracery of its edges, curves coiling off into tiny spikes and swirls. It was strangely beautiful, and she could have appreciated it if it wasn't clearly marking her own perineum. Her heart racing, she pulled her pants up and opened the toilet door. With a quick glance to check she wasn't being watched, Chelsea ran down to the glass shower stall and pushed the door back. Crouching, she peered at the tiles... "Oh no," she whimpered, backing away. Looking up the wall, she could see the slight colour change where the tiles had been replaced. "No, no, no," she repeated to herself, staring in disbelief as realisation set in. Turning, she ran down to the other end of the shower block, her eyes wide and searching. Reaching the end sink, Chelsea stopped and looked over the smooth, white surface. Crouching, she looked underneath the sink... nothing. Ignoring the strange look she was getting from the woman beside her, she put her hands on either side of the sink and hung her head in defeat. Soon, Chelsea and the girl from the pool would not be alone in their secret. Someone else had taken the key. -- Big thanks to slavelucy for her proof-reading on this! Couldn't have done it without her. --
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