Note: The below story is completely fictional, and does not depict real events. No copyright is claimed, nor implied, beyond that which may or may not be given by The Nifty Archives. Please comment if inclined. I am at haraldv1@loveable.com
Emma was sitting on the edge of her bed, in the dark, with her laptop in her lap, which was attached to her big screen television. She had taken off her light blue button up shirt, light gold skirt, and black mary janes. She now had on just her opaque, white pantyhose. She was poking around the internet, trying to find a good volunteer opportunity for when 8th grade ended. Summers were slow in Redding. No scholastic sports. Club soccer is over. Even her school, Shadle Academy, didn't have much in the way of summer school offerings.
Emma went onto the Channel 7 website. She was a news buff. More so than most 13-year-old girls, anyhow. She couldn't vote, obviously, but liked something about Barack Obama's chances for a second term, and liked to follow his latest newsbytes.
But this time around, Emma was drawn to a hyperlink that read "Local girl raises funds for her lung transplant". She clicked on the blue link, which launched a pop-up window that signaled that it was loading a video. The screen went from black to showing Geri Kramer, an older anchorwoman. She was wearing a pink blazer, black blouse, and a thin, gold chain around her neck. She had shoulder-length dyed platinum-blonde hair, which hid the presumed silvery-gray expected of a woman of 65.
"A lifelong struggle with an eventually fatal disease, 'Andersen-Metz Syndrome, or AMS', has led a local neighborhood to band together to help a local girl who just underwent a double-lung transplant at Shasta Mercy Hospital. Mandy Klein reports from 160 Shopping Center" Kramer's booming voice announces.
The video starts showing footage of a bunch of people in a grocery store parking lot, presumably several families of parents and kids. Several shots of cars covered in suds, and buckets full of sudsy water. Laughter amongst the mostly teenage female group ensues.
"This is Tiffany Schroeder. At 16, she has already faced a lifetime of medical issues. Every month, she has to be admitted to the hospital for a grueling maintenance regime. Last November, she got the call she had been waiting for. University Hospital, in the Bay Area, had a brand new set of lungs for her."
Slowly, the camera works its way upward on the girl, in a still shot. First, her brown hiking boots and pink shoe laces. Then her tight blue jeans, tan belt and somewhat thin legs. Then her white "SHADLE" varsity t-shirt. And finally, her face. The girl has Long, straight, blonde hair past her shoulders, and big, brown eyes. She is wearing a light grey, silicone mask over her nose and mouth. On each side is one flat, bright pink disk. There are two, light grey straps keeping the mask tightly on her face. There is also a strap that rests on top of her head, and is connected to the top main strap, forming a cradle.
Tiffany starts talking to the off-camera interviewer in a live shot. She draws a loud breath through her mask, causing a hiss. Suddenly, Emma's heart starts pounding as she watches the story. She notices a slight tingling sensation in and around her vagina.
"Life was really difficult. I had dipped to about 30% function in my lungs. I couldn't go anywhere without---"
Emma pauses the video and then maximizes it to where it took up the whole screen. Tiffany's face is shown, with her grey respirator on. Emma's heart continues pounding as she just stares at the screen, knowing she is turned on, but a bit uneasy about it.
Emma flipped on her lightswitch, and settles back on her bed with three pillows, above her Tigger covers. She looks at the screen, and the paused picture of Tiffany, the beautiful blonde girl in the mask. She slips her two left fingers on her right hand under her pantyhose. She starts to slowly move her fingers in an oval on and around her clitoris. She lays back, resting her head on the pillows, looking straight up at the stucco ceiling.
After about three minutes of steadily moving her fingers around her clitoris, she gives out a shaky sigh. She starts to feel a warm, sticky wetness on her fingers. Her hips start to feel full, and achy, but in an oddly pleasant way. Her heart starts beating very hard. She looks up from her pillow at the screen, catching another view of this Tiffany girl's oddly alluring masked face. She lays back down and inserts both fingers into her warm, wet vagina, and starts moving her fingers in a "come here" motion, against the wall of her vagina.
Meanwhile, she turns her face towards the wall near the side of her bed, which was covered in one huge mirror. She starts to watch herself in the mirror as she continues to pleasure herself. She was very thin and somewhat pale, and had yet to develop breasts or hips. Her dark brown hair was in a page boy cut: short, curling inward around her ears. She was wearing only opaque, white pantyhose.
Emma's hips start getting fuller after about 5 minutes. While she continues fingering her vagina, she uses her left thumb to go up and down her clitoris, which starts to throb. She continues to watch herself in the mirror wall. Her mouth is open. She grunts a few times as her body starts to squirm slightly.
Very suddenly, about two minutes later, she feels a warm, quick gush of fluid hit her fingers. Her hips thrust forward, arching her back and pressing her head into the pillow. Her back stays arched for about ten seconds as she continues to rub her clitoris and stroke the inner wall of her vagina, which contracts repeatedly around the fingers of her right hand. She starts to moan softly and repeatedly as her whole body starts to spasm for the next 25 seconds.
Emma's body gradually relaxes. She takes several deep breaths, and removes her fingers from within her. She justs lay there for a minute, enjoying the warm wetness that flooded her between her legs. She then slowly gets up to shut off her TV set and the light switch, and climbs under her covers, going to sleep on her side.
Emma hears a knock on her door from her mother, Cathy.
"Good morning, sweety."
"Good morning, mom." Emma slurs, slowly getting up out of bed. She puts on her red Stanford hoodie and headed out to the round, wooden kitchen table, where her mother had left her a bowl of oatmeal with butter and honey, and a glass of orange juice.
"Hey, Mom, have you heard of AMS? It's a disease of some kind," Emma asks kind of sheepishly as she plays with her oatmeal.
"Umm...yeah. That girl out at Shadle Academy has it. They had a story on her on 7 or 10 or one of those. Really pretty blonde girl. Did you see it?", Cathy says.
"Yeah---"
"HEY, your math classmate Amber knows her. I think she might have been at that car wash on Highway 160." Cathy exclaims. "I read that Amber and all them are having a bake sale at the farmer's market down in Anderson. Do you want to go help out? You've been looking for stuff to do this summer. Would you want to meet that Tiffany girl?"
"Sounds fun," Emma says, kind of tentatively. "Yeah."
"OK, then, since you seem finished with breakfast, go do your morning routine and get dressed. It starts in about 90 minutes. You can get something more at the market if you are hungry later". said Cathy.
Emma runs into her restroom, her hips feeling very full. She hurriedly pulled her pantyhose down below her knees, the white gusset now stained with her cum from last night. She pulls apart her butt cheeks and sits down. Almost before she sat down, she could feel her anus open as a long, thick, soft snake of sorts passes through, making an audible "plop". She barely has to push. About a minute later, her hips fill up once more, and she pushes, this time a bit harder. She heard about 10 more audible "plops", in quick secession, after which she felt good and empty. She quickly grabs a few squares of toilet paper, wiping front to back. She repeats this process two more times. There is still a dark brown spot with lighter streaking on the toilet paper. But she needed to get in the shower, so she flushes, pulls her pantyhose all the weay off, slides the glass door on her tub, and steps in, sliding it back.
She turns the knob all the way to the right to get a hard stream of the cold water she preferred to shower with. She grabs the shiny metal showerhead and flips the switch to "PULSE". Grabbing the shower grab bar with her left hand, she aims the water stream downward, but tilted halfway toward her stomach. The cold water beats against her abdomen and runs down between her legs. Her clitoris spasms once as the water runs down to it. Emma sighs. She moves the showerhead down and aims it right at her clitoris. She spreads her legs apart as far as they would go in the limited space she had.
After about 15 seconds, the initial cold gives way to a numb warmth on and around Emma's clitoris. Emma very suddenly lets out a soft sigh, catching herself offguard. She holds on more tightly to the grab bar and closes her eyes. Her large brown nipples start to feel sensitive. Emma looks down, finding them indeed erect. Emma drops her shower head. She inserts her pointing finger into her vagina and makes a "come hither" motion, causing her finger to rub against her front vaginal wall. Meanwhile, she tries to make circles on her clitoris with her thumb. She sighs again, dropping to the floor of the tub on her rear end. She lays down, grabbing the shower head again. She first runs it over her face and hair, quickly getting it wet, realizing there was no time for a shampoo.
She hears a loud knock on the door. Her mother comes in to get her to hurry up, pointing to a set of clothes in the sink for her to put on. Emma immediately stands up and turns off the water, even though she doesn't feel quite clean. She very hurriedly steps into her light blue bikini bottoms and pulls them up tightly. Then she puts on her orange plastic sandals, and finally the matching bikini top. She runs out the bathroom door, not even cleaning up after her shower. Her hair is still dripping wet. She runs out the front door and slams it behind her, running to her mother's awaiting white Chevrolet pickup, whose sick-sounding, twenty-eight year old engine was already running.
"Put your seatbelt on, Emma." Cathy says. "We need to get going. The traffic on 47 towards Anderson and Bluffton is getting thick."
Emma does her seatbelt and the two go out on the road.
About fifteen minutes later, they pull into a bumpy, asphalt parking lot that is adjacent to an old, gray department of motor vehicles building. There are a few light blue picnic tables outside. On the lot, about twenty booths had been set up. Everything from fine cheeses to organic vegetables to a beef jerky stand. All sorts of arts, crafts, and books were being sold as well.
Emma gets out of the truck, hugs her mother goodbye, and proceeds to Tiffany's stand in Space 37, right between a seafood stand and a jewelry stand. Tiffany's booth has a white canopy supported by four poles. Hanging from the front of the canopy was a pink sign saying "Tiffany's Team - Fighting AMS One Day, and Dollar, at a Time!" Inside, there is a middle-aged woman and man busy setting up a pile of AMS t-shirts and a rack of cookies on a table. A few teenage girls are unloading the back of their black Ford step side pickup. Amy Grant is playing on the radio in their booth, which is competing with another radio in the distance that is tuned to classic rock. As well, there is a live mariachi band a few feet away.
"Hi!" chirps a voice right behind Emma. Emma looked to her left, and an unfamiliar teenage girl appeared. "I'm Kailey!" she announced in a muffled voice. Kailey appeared about 5 feet, 4 inches tall, and very slender. She had long, straight blonde hair and a bronze complexion, and was wearing a bright blue and pink bikini, a white "Tiffany's Team" t-shirt and yellow flip flops. She also has on a bright, thick, bluish-green medical mask, with some tiny black writing on it. Emma can make out "N95" and "1860" and nothing else. Two white rubber bands kept the mask firmly over Kailey's nose and mouth, leaving only her smiling brown eyes uncovered.
"Hi. I'm Emma", saay Emma. "I'm 13."
"I'm 13 as well!" chirps Kailey. "I'm Tiffany's friend from down the street. I'm just getting over a cold, so I need to wear this mask today, just because of Tiffany. And these surgical gloves. Don't wanna get her sick."
"I seeee..." Emma said with a bit of a concerned tone. After a pause, she continued, "I just had a cold last week. Should I not be here?"
"Um, no no no! You're fine. But would you mind wearing mask and gloves, too? Don't worry. I've got them on, Tiffany has her gas mask on, and two other girls, too." said Kailey.
Emma nodded. Kailey grabbed one of the disposable blue masks like she was wearing, and held it in her hand.
"Face me." Kailey said. Emma stands face to face with her in front of the booth. Kailey holds the thick, blue mask in her hand such that the white inner shell faces up, and one of the white bands dangles over each side of her hands. Emma looks on as she does this. Then she looked up at Kailey's brown eyes and closed her mouth. Kailey presses the mask firmly against Emma's face. Emma draws a deep, warm breath. Kailey proceeds to take the top band and place it over Emma's ears. She then takes the bottom white rubber band and places it right below Emma's ears.
"Now put your hands out in front of you." says Kailey, smiling beneath her mask. Emma puts her hands flat and straight in front of her. Kailey grabs hold of a thin, clear, plastic glove. She rolls it up as though it were a sock, holding it at both ends, and sliding the glove gently over Emma's fingers and thumb on her right hand. Emmas put her hand down and wiggled her fingers a bit, getting used to the feeling.
Kailey then grabs another glove, rolling it up the same way, and sliding it over Emma's fingers.
"How do you feel?" asks Kailey.
Emma wiggles her hands a bit more, and takes a few somewhat deep breaths, feeling the warm air and the mask pull in a little bit against her face, causing a very slight, but not unpleasant, tingle. She looks up at Kailey, who was wearing the same exact kind of mask over her nose and mouth. She gradually gets used to the feel of her mask and gloves, the idea of deliberately wearing such things in public, and the fact that she was looking straight at another girl that was similarly dressed. This was apparently how today's girl of honor, Tiffany, must feel. Emma quietly ponders what to say when she meet her, which she expected to in a few minutes.
"HI!!!!" another young female voice cries in a muffled manner, followed by a mysterious, yet familiar hiss, kind of like the Darth Vader movie she had watched last week. This time right behind Emma. She feels, then sees, an arm on her left shoulder. She hears a loud breath, and turns her body to the right. Her heart starts beating very hard and very quickly.
"I'm Tiff. You know, the girl in that news story you saw? I talked to your mother the other day over the phone." says this girl. Emma's eyes go slowly from bottom to top. Her feet are covered by white and pink tie dye socks in shiny, black sneakers with bright blue shoestrings. Her legs are fairly thin, and her knees are pronounced. Very cute. Not supermodel-sexy, but attractively cute.
Tiff also has on blue whitewashed jeans shorts and a pearl-pink one-piece swimsuit, which shows off her full, round, but proportional breasts.
Emma's eyes finally meet Tiff's. Tiff is wearing her light grey, silicone mask. On each side of the mask is a bright pink disk-shaped filter, just like in the news clip. Two light grey straps keep the mask tightly on her face, covering her mouth and nose, but showing her big, brown eyes. Another thick strap rests on top of her head, connecting to the top main strap, forming a cradle. Her hair is the same, straight, platinum blonde color as in the news bit.
Emma's heart starts suddenly beating very hard. She starts breathing somewhat hard and fast, feeling her blue mask tighten against her face again every time she inhaled. She starts shaking somewhat visibly. Tiffany gives her a hug.
"I'm so glad you came, Emma! Your mother sounds nice." chirped Tiff, loudly sighing every time she exhaled.
"I need a bathroom." says Emma, nervously.
"Everything OK? You're kind of shaking. Are you scared by my mask? A lot of people are," Tiff said, muffled.
"No, no. I just need a bathroom." Emma says, feeling her bowel fill up.
"OK, run with me. i know where it is.", says Tiff, grabbing Emma's hand. They run past the row of booths towards an ATM machine. They turn right, going inside the empty DMV building's double doors. Tiffany grabs the first door on the left and opens it. They both go in. Emma rushes into the first stall. Tiff closes it behind her and enters the next stall. Emma pulls off her bikini bottom as quickly as possible. She spreads her cheeks and sits down. As she looks down, she notices a dark skid mark on her light blue bikini bottom. She sighs.
She proceeds to push, and feels about fifteen small, soft clumps exit her rear end. She relaxes for about a minute, and pushes again, expelling a long, soft coil from her rear end. She grabs a wad of toilet paper, stands up, and wipes repeatedly. After a few minutes, when it appears her toilet paper is clean after a wipe, she stands up, squats, and pulled up her bikini bottom and unlocked the door, which opened inwards.
Somewhat startled, she saw Tiff, standing right in front of her, grabbing onto the top of the stall, and staring right at her. She was now completely undressed, except for the gray respirator on her face and the pink filters sticking out each side.
To be continued...