The Handful 8

Discussion in 'The Bodyguard's Scribbles' started by The Bodyguard, Dec 31, 2018.

  1. The Bodyguard Pretty Spiffy [________] Humorist

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    My thanks to Kevlar31 who has provided the artwork for this story and the initial inspiration for it.

    The Handful 8

    Part the First in which we find two gentlemen from Ventura and the ladies who thought to teach them a lesson, forsooth.

    Mel and Em stood waiting for someone who could provide some help. The flowers on Em's grandfather's VW bus had finally wilted leaving the two attractive, very wholesome, and intellectual ladies on the side of a particularly long section of lonely road without cellphone reception.

    They were librarians at the West County Public Library and Organic Foods Saloon, on their way to the East County Library Seminar on Improvements of the Dewey Decimal System. At age twenty two and three, (I will be polite and not say which was the elder), as Librarians, their relationships with men were few and far between, much like the traffic on this particular road.

    Lo and behold, the lads from Ventura, in a Safari Van, came up over the far rise. Of superb athletic build but unfortunately too many tackles on the fields of football and rugby without helmets had left them somewhat discombobulated. But they were eager lads who Mr. Big had hired to go fetch two broads traveling on the lonesome road.

    Thus it was that Todd, the smarter one, and Toad, not the smarter one, met up with Mel and Em.

    The ladies were not necessarily happy to see these guys but they were men and probably could give them a ride to the nearest telephone. The lads were of course ready to do so, and acted as tag team partners in a wrestling match with the ladies who were lacking in the rules of such a match.

    The lads did their very best to help the ladies into rope applications and trundle them onto the van's rusty floor. The ladies were sorely unhappy about this and since the lads had forgotten the adage that a bound lady should be seen but not heard, there were no gags in place.

    Mel presented her case first. "Well, this is great. If we had taken my new car we'd be at the Seminar bar right now drinking Sex on the Beaches and hoping some future court nominee would have sex with us on his beach. Instead here we are because you wanted to have a fun adventure in that ancient relic. A twenty mule team would have been better."

    Em presented her rebuttal, wiggling her fine butt too. "Whine, whine, whine. These two mules are going to have their way with us, and we don't have to listen to any of the seminars."

    "I don't know, I'm not sure they are up to the job."

    "I think the driver is cute. Just like Sir Harry in "Hot under the Collar" when he strokes the breasts of Princess Flavia while she's iron collared to the post in the center of Wolfsburg."

    "Yeah, and after he shredded her clothes to leave her naked, he turned into a wolf and spent the last four chapters baying at the moon. I suspect these nunshuchs are better at baying than bumping. Of course Jack in "HiJacked" had his way with the stewardesses and the female air-cop. But he hypnotized them didn't he just to run off with the male co-pilot. I don't think they could hypnotize a spider, like that one on your shoulder?" Mel slightly digressed.

    Todd had finally got the clutch to shift into drive and turn the van onto the lonesome road when Em's screech caused him to swerve across the middle line and just miss being t-boned by the one and only semi on the road. The van came to a stop at approximately the same placed it had first been parked. The ladies rolled together, their bound breasts under their clothes heaving with fright against each others' bound breasts. (Yes, I know that's a literary redundancy but breasts are a happy redundancy anyway.)

    Toad looked over the seat back and sighed. "Should have ripped their clothes off and gagged them with it." Todd had a nasty bruise developing on his forehead from the steering wheel and wasn't at that moment inclined to any feminine activity. He got out to check the van for any damage.

    He was unhappy to find a tire blown out. He opened the back door to the heaving breasts and no spare tire. He reached in and yanked Em's tied legs towards him. She disapproved of this and replied with a well managed shoe heel to that part of Todd that was just visible above the rear edge of the van.

    That made him rather angry as he stepped back, wobbled on a rock, fell and added another bruise to his forehead, although the pain from down below overruled this new headache.

    Toad heard Todd's groans and then the rattle sound. He tore Em's shoe off her and pounded the snake staring Todd in the eyes.

    This was really the first chance the gals had to get a good look at the two men. "Brothers?" Mel asked.
    "Cousins, second or third, I think." Toad answered.
    Mel gave a disdaining wink to Em who stifled a laugh. "They have the capacity to know if they can think." Both ladies deemed it appropriate to go ahead and laugh.

    Todd got up, somewhat rattled. (Yes, I know!) He went over to the ladies and tore at their squirming blouses, hauling Em's right breast and Mel's left breast out from the respective clothing. He just held their delights in his hands, staring between, while actually waiting for the earth to stop spinning.

    Mel smirked. "You know, we each have another one of these."

    Todd came out of his daze and ordered Toad to get the duct tape from the toolbox. He applied twenty seven layers around Mel's mouth and then finished the roll off around Em. "Mr. Big said no sex, but he didn't say nothing about not roughing you up."

    Em was halfway remembering "Attention!" wherein a platoon of soldiers had dropped their pants to stand ready to charge into the valley between the General's daughter's legs. But with Todd's no sex comment her dream soldiers disappeared faster than she could have turned the page.

    Toad looked at the tire. "Have to get one off their bus."

    At this moment a large gas guzzling SUV appeared at the top of the rise. The wife and (of age) daughter of the third richest man in West County were returning home from a shopping expedition at the East County 'Extremely Still High Priced Upscale Fashion Outlet Mall'.

    As the humongous van came closer the stalwart daughter, and lead cheerleader for the West County Mustangs, noted some of the visible activity. "I say, Cecily, that looks like a man mauling a pair of nice boobies. Maybe we should stop and say hello?"

    The wife, driving, gave a most disdaining look. "We don't know those people. They could be Vegans."
    But as they passed the wife noticed too and made a superb u-turn. Stopping, then getting out and
    pulling out the shotgun on the driver's side door holster. She aimed it at Todd.

    "Unless, you are planning to spread caviar all over those heaving boobs, I think you should unhand them." The wife fired one barrel that took out the van's side door mirror.

    Todd turned to her. "Hey, it's not a rented one, it's a stolen van, I don't have insurance on it."

    But it didn't matter for Toad came out from behind the bus, halfway thru taking a tire off, and snuck up behind the wife and poked the lug nut wrench into her back as if a gun. She dropped the shotgun on the front seat.
    It took a while, actually about forty five minutes including Toad's run down of the fleet footed cheerleader, but soon there were eight unclothed breasts in the hot midday sun along the lonesome road...
    ... watching the lads from Ventura toss out from the SUV all the boxes of outer clothing but retaining those with jewelry and fine wines. Especially saving the big box with matching full feminine leather harnesses with numerous attachments for pony use.

    "Hey Todd, I think these are the two Mr. Big wanted us to kidnap and hold for ransom back at our hideaway ten miles off the highway behind the Old Steakhouse and E-Vapors Saloon."

    Todd sighed, staring at the breasts. Thinking about all those spy stories he read and how the hero had never once had this many even in 'For His Eyes and Shlong Only'.

    Toad gave a more intelligent thought. "We could keep the first two for ourselves."

    Part the Second wherein the lads find themselves in a bevy of bouncing beautiful boobies and know not what to do with such extravagance, forsooth.

    Todd enjoyed driving the monstrous SUV on the lonesome road, swerving onto the bad embankment so those eight heaving breasts, pressed together in the usual unnecessary and unused third row of luxury seats, could bounced delightfully together. All displayed on the dashboard monitor and recorded too.

    Toad sat in the second seat row trying to sort the items from the big box per the appropriate feminine body part.

    Todd turned down the dusty old road near the Steakhouse and drove to an old but still usable cabin stuck in the middle of nowhere, but somewhere in Central County.

    The two had checked out the shack. An old land line phone and a big freezer were still hooked up but with enough dust on them that no one had used them in quite some time. They left four cases of beer stolen from the Old Steakhouse before heading out in their quest.

    Now they hugged and heaved and hauled each bound babe into the room, ungently plopping each bottom into the dust on the floor.

    Part the Third wherein the lads are thrice interrupted in their desire to fulfill their manifest destiny.

    No sooner had they discovered "Hey, the beer's gone." when two women stormed into the shack, as if they owned it. "Who are you?" was asked, in harmony, by the two men of you know where.

    "We're the owners, along with the Old Steakhouse." Replied, in harmony, the well clad in buckskin leather ladies, with turned up side brim cowboy hats and snake skin boots and holding their own shotguns.

    It didn't take long for Toad to easily explain most of the story line up to here. Kat and Muffy stared at the four other women. They decided that they would get a higher ransom from the husband/daddy, then pay off Mr. Big. That meant tying up the two guys while they used the old landline phone.

    But as Kat started for the phone and Muffy set her shotgun down on a table to calculate a new ransom figure on her cell phone's calculator, the two men did their duty.

    And thus it was that about a half hour later the two exhausted men sat on the only two chairs, swept of dust, and eyed the six ladies bent over onto the dust covered table.

    "I like number three." Toad said. "Which number three, from the left or right?" Todd asked.
    Toad raised his shoe to tap his number three's marvelous posterior.
    They sighed heavily.

    Then felt what they thought were guns to the back of their necks. As they raised their hands a familiar pair of voices rang out.

    "This is what you call a fishing trip?" Todd's girlfriend, Sheila from South County drawled.
    "Seems like you caught more than your limit." Toad's girlfriend from North County whined.

    The two men answered sheepishly before realizing they were being held up by lipstick tubes. Though tired from the three previous endeavors, along with real shotguns, it was fairly easy to add their girlfriends to the table.

    Toad raised his foot onto the other cheek of his first choice. "Still prefer this one."
    Todd sighed. He couldn't decide. So he picked up the phone and called over to Old Steakhouse for two large everything pizzas and a case of beer. "You want anything?" He asked his partner in crime.
    Toad chose a Vegetarian pizza plus cheese sticks and two cases of beer.

    And now the two men had eight beautiful women to manhandle as they pleased.

    But their hopes quickly faded. For the delivery girl was Billie Jo, of the Central County Sheriff's office, along with two dozen of her male officers, who, after tying Todd and Toad to the outhouse, began all night in-depth interrogations of the ladies.

    Mel would later write all that up in her autobiography "My Summer Romance".
    Which can be found at the West County Public Organic Foods Saloon and Library,
    several copies well dog-eared, highlighted, and non-beverage stained.

    As for the two lads, they escaped during the night, one moved to somewhere in the South Pacific and the other to another state, changed their names, and became respectable handlers of fine boobies.


    The artist and author of this work of art appreciate your valuable comments and your name will be put into a drawing for one of the books named herein to be dropped off at your residence in a plain recycled fast food bag by a drone sometime during a full moon night. Just like the ransom payment we came upon in researching this story.
    The End, Forsooth.