Revenge of the Bridesmaids (7 page)

I didn't get a chance to ask Brenda any questions, because the photographer got his camera set and took our picture, and then told us to step aside, so he could shoot more shots of the bride and groom.

Loitering around, we watched the photographer pose Chet and Lisa.  We were on standby in case he wanted bridesmaids or ushers again.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see Devon watching me carefully.  My heart raced once more, and my stomach clenched. 

"Hey, Amber," Cassie hissed into my ear.  She held my bare arm tightly.

"Yeah?" I replied, keeping my eyes on Devon.

"I can help you out,” Cassie whispered.  “Come with me.  They don't need us here anymore."  Her hand slid down my arm and clasped my narrow wrist.  Off we went at Cassie’s fast trot.  Was I out of this mess already?  Hallelujah!  Cassie’s legal mind must have finally agreed that this was a way disproportionate response.  Outstanding!

"Okay," I said, rushing to keep up with her.  "Hey, slow down, Flo Jo.  I'm going to break an ankle."

"Sorry," Cassie said.  "But we have to hurry."  Hooray!  My old study-buddy was coming through for me.  I didn't expect to get help from any of the bridesmaids, so this was a pleasant surprise.  Maybe Cassie realized it wasn't that big a deal, what I'd done.  My eyes shot back, searching for Devon in the crowd.

"Let's go," Cassie said.  "Hurry up."  Boy, Cassie was fast, even without her red Keds on.  But Cassie was providing me an escape.  For that, I’d run a marathon in heels.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Cassie led me into the restored barn that served as the B&B's catering hall.  To call it a barn was to undersell it.  The first five feet of its outer walls were mortared New England stone, and the roofline soared fifty feet over our heads.  The floor was wide-planked hardwood, polished to a high shine.  This must have been some fine estate in its day, before the real estate vultures carved it up.

The cocktail hour was underway.  The party consisted of over two hundred guests in all, and the barn could easily accommodate twice that.  Management had even used folding screens to seal off parts of the barn, alcoves mainly, so the wedding area would feel cozier.  They could probably have accommodated a party of three hundred easily.  Waiters and waitresses snaked through the crowd carrying trays of appetizers.

I wondered why Cassie was leading me through the bulk of the wedding party, and then supposed she was trying to get us lost in the crowd.  There had to be a rear exit—maybe we were heading there.  Almost everyone was still milling about and hadn't taken their seats.  Once the photographer was done with Lisa and Chet, they'd make their big entrance into the barn and get the celebration started.  But for now, people mingled and enjoyed the cocktail hour.

Cassie pulled me to a far corner of the barn, right behind one of the open bars.  Free liquor—classy!  From the look of the line at the open bar, this party was going to be quite lively.

We moved past the bar.  Cassie was leading me to the alcove behind the bar—a former horse stall.  It had a room-dividing screen blocking it off.  Because the screen started a few inches above the floor, I could see a pair of patent leather loafers tapping impatiently behind the folding screen room divider.

I pulled back on Cassie's arm.  "What are you doing?" I hissed.  “I thought we were heading for an exit.”

"No, silly.  He's waiting for you."

This was a trap all along!  "I never agreed to have sex with all the wedding party," I said.

"Okay," Cassie replied.  She elbowed her way to the front of the line at the open bar and nudged the next guest aside.  “Bridesmaid priority,” she cooed, smiling sweetly.  The older gentleman nodded and let Cassie ahead of him.  “Two G&Ts,” Cassie said.  “Don’t skimp on the G.”  She tossed a twenty into his tip jar.

After getting our drinks, we moved over to in front of the screen blocking the former horse stall—where my stallion waited—and Cassie handed me one of the G&Ts.  “Drink,” she said.

“No.”

“Drink half of it, and I’ll listen to your plea,” Cassie offered.

Dammit.  There was a disadvantage to someone knowing me so well.  Cassie was well aware that I loved G&Ts.  I swallowed down half the drink in one long gulp.  It was cold and tart and delightful.  Warmth radiated out from my belly.

“Whew!  That’s almost all gin,” I said.

“Good,” Cassie said.  “It’ll loosen you up, you tightass.”

“Cassie, please don’t make me do this.  I don’t want to do this.”

“That’s your best plea?” Cassie asked with a twinkle in her eye.  “It’s a good thing I’m the one who went to law school.  Drink the rest.”

She didn’t have to say it.  I was about to anyway.  In an instant, the drink was gone, and my empty belly now had gin sloshing around in it.  My whole body started feeling coolly pleasant.  Gin worked fast on me, which was probably why I liked it.

Cassie held up her clutch, dyed to match her dress, of course, and said, "If you have sex with all the men in the wedding party, then I give you the antidote in my purse and change you back.  If you don't, then we change you back but file charges with the police using the videos you shot as evidence.  It's your call."

"That's blackmail," I said.

"It is blackmail, which is a Class E felony.  However, when you roofied us, you were guilty of rape, and rape is a Class A felony, with sex offender status tacked on.  You'll be marked for life.  We’ll get off with a slap on the wrist.  You’ll go to jail."

It was a choice, but it wasn't much of one.  I didn't want to go to jail.

“The punishment seems to outstrip the crime,” I said.

“Only from your perspective,” Cassie replied, heat flaring up in her gaze.  “Try not to think of it as a punishment.”  I grew relieved as I watched her familiar playfulness return to her face.  “Think of it as a learning experience.  No, wait.”  She bounced in place and squeezed my arm.  “Think of it as an adventure.”

Adventure?  Pfft.  Adventures were supposed to be fun.  I had a lot of emotions running through me—fear, worry, dread—and not one of them was a sense of fun.  "I don’t even know how to approach him,” I said.  “I know, I have this hot body…”

“You certainly do,” Cassie snickered.

“…but I don't have any feminine wiles," I concluded.

"Yeah, right," Cassie said.  "How about with Devon before...'
Thanks for catching me.  You're my hero
!’  Those were feminine wiles, for sure.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Your mouth might not have, but your body did. Just go with your instinct with Cliff here, behind the screen."

"How do I know he even wants me?"

"I told Cliff you've never given a blowjob and really need to—it’s the truth, after all.  You need to in order to return to your male body.  Cliff graciously volunteered to help you out with that."

"I bet he did," I replied.  My eyes scanned the crowded room.  "What, right there behind the screen?  I can see his feet Cassie."

"Size nine," Cassie said.  "Don't worry, it'll be easy."

"Ugh.  Gross.  No, not that.  People will see me kneeling there."

"Look at you, Miss Center of the Universe, everyone is focused on me," Cassie said sarcastically.  "Get over yourself, Amber.  You're not all that."

Cassie yanked me into the horse stall, behind the screening divider, where Cliff sat waiting.

"Hi," Cliff said, his blue eyes gleaming under his heavy brow.  His hair was light brown, but his thick eyebrows were almost black.  His skin was fresh, and his face was engaging.  His body was…not unattractive.

"Amber, this is Cliff," Cassie said as she held my shoulders.  "Cliff, this is Amber.”  I smiled at Cliff, and Cassie went on to say, “Amber wants to suck your cock."

"Hey!" I said.  My eyes darted to the screening divider.  Could they hear us in here?  Probably not.  The crowd was lively already, and there was a low undercurrent of chit-chat filling the air.

"Sorry," Cassie replied.  "Cliff, Amber needs to suck your cock."  Her hands left my shoulders, and before I knew it, the front of my dress was lifted up, exposing me.  "And Amber isn't wearing any panties," Cassie added.

Cliff’s eyes lit up.  I flattened the front of my dress with my hands and crouched down to hide my bare cunt.  Cassie pressed on my shoulders so that I knelt down on the floor between Cliff's spread legs.  As easy as that, I was kneeling between his legs.  The hard plank floor was rough on my knees.

"Well, this is an unusual wedding," Cliff said.

I let out a nervous titter.  If he only knew.

"Come on, Cliffy, whip it out," Cassie said, lightly clapping her hands.  "We have a bridesmaid bet, and Amber has to have sex with all of you ushers to win."

“And I’m first.  How nice.”  Cliff smiled broadly.  I was mortified.  When I'd met Cassie yesterday, out by the gazebo, I thought she was going to be the Wedding Slut.  It was now obvious that I would be the Wedding Slut.  Godammit!  If only I could steal that antidote out of Cassie's purse.

I shifted on my knees, holding onto Cliff as I tried to get up.  Cassie pressed me down, causing my hands to grip Cliff’s legs.  He had strong legs.

Cassie, ever impatient, reached down and opened Cliff's fly.  She fished around and pulled his cock out.  "What the hell?” Cassie cried.  “You're soft?  I thought this was exciting for you.  Get hard already."

Wriggling my shoulders to push Cassie off—unsuccessfully— I actually felt a little sorry for Cliff.  He obviously didn't know our Hurricane Cassie very well.  I did.  Cassie was expecting me to chicken out, and once I did, she would deny me the antidote that would change me back into Andy—at least until she filed the police complaint—that would be my real punishment.  Hence, Cassie set me up to suck Cliff off while the whole wedding party was milling about only a few feet away so I’d chicken out.  I knew her devious lawyerly mind too well.  Cassie had engineered this for me to fail.

“Wake up, Little Cliffy,” Cassie said.  She flapped his limp cock up and down like it was a noisemaker.  “Wake the fuck up!”

“Holy cow, Cassie!” Cliff barked.  “Easy!”

“Yeah, Cassie,” I said.  “You’re beating him soft, if anything.  That’s no way to wake Little Cliffy up.”

“Oh, yeah, smartass?” Cassie retorted.  “You know so much about men.  How should I wake Little Cliffy up?”

Cassie had engineered this for me to fail.  The newly minted lawyer thought she had all the answers, but she didn’t.  I had some tricks up my sleeve, too.

"Hey Little Cliffy," I said, pushing Cassie’s hand out of the way.  “Want to come out and play with me?”  Cliff had a pretty impressive cock.  I petted it gently and lifted it up.  Little Cliffy drooped at me like a penis-shaped Eeyore.  The G&T had loosened my inhibitions and softened the shell around my empathy muscle a bit.  I actually felt sorry for Cliff.  He didn’t know what he’d said yes to.

I looked up at Cassie and said, “I do know more about men than you, you know.”  She sneered down at me.

Cassie didn’t have all the answers—that was for sure.  There was no way she could have known about my Gin Connection.  That’s what I thought of the memory as—my Gin Connection.  It was easier to think of it that way. 

Back in my freshman year, before I met Cassie, there had been an end of the semester blowout—we were so happy, surviving our first year.  It was a blast.

I couldn’t remember how many G&Ts my dorm mate fed me, but it was a lot.  He just about carried me back to our room.  I sat on my bed, insisting I wanted to go back to the party, but he wouldn’t let me.  I was persistent.  He was insistent.  “Come on,” I pleaded.  “Let me go back to the party.” 

“You can go back to the party,” he said, “if you blow me.” 

He was always joking like that, but I really wanted to go back to the party.  Plus, the fact that he always walked around after his showers wearing only a towel, for hours sometimes, like we lived in a steamroom or something, gave his “jokes” an underpinning of sincerity.  Me thinks he doth protest too much—or something like that.  Don’t look at me—I got a C in Shakespeare.

“Whip it out,” I’d said to my dorm mate.  I had the Gin Connection going on, and I really wanted to go back to that party.  The G&Ts had really lowered my inhibitions.  Besides, I was a freshman, eager to explore new frontiers. 

He whipped it out and dick slapped my face. 

“You won’t do it, Andy,” my dorm mate said.  “You’re a pussy.”  When his fat cock landed against my cheek again, I took it in my hand and slipped it between my lips.  The rest, as they say, is history.

Yeah, I blew a guy in college.  It was actually pretty cool, although it cost us our friendship. And I got so hammered afterwards—hence, the Gin Connection.

I stroked Cliff’s cock with my forefinger.  “Did mean old Cassie hurt you?” I asked Little Cliffy.

“Yes, she did,” Cliff said.

“Here,” I replied, and kissed the tip of Cliff’s cock.  I glared up at Cassie.  She was smirking.  Cliff had his hand on the inside of Cassie’s knee, and he stroked her leg.  A few yards away, on the other side of the dividing screen, two hundred wedding guests chatted and scarfed appetizers while boozing it up.  Any minute, the three of us could be discovered, and we’d be outted, with me kneeling between Cliff’s legs, my hand on his cock.  Knowing that was possible sent a thrill up my spine.

“Poor little boo-boo,” I said, kissing Little Cliffy again.  The head of his cock was warmer than the rest of him.  Or maybe my lips were just more sensitive than my fingers.  His cock smelled musty.  I felt dirty, like a cheap whore, which turned me on.  Little Cliffy straightened, just a bit, and the idea that I’d done that pleased me in a surprising way.

“The big meanie hurt it along the side, too,” Cliff said.

“Did she now?” I replied, the gin buzz running strong through my body.  Easing Little Cliffy to the side, I kissed him at the base and asked, “There?”  Cliff shook his head no.  The way he looked down at me, was as if he saw me as a god, well, a goddess.  That look brought warmth to my belly faster than the gin did.  For now, I was a goddess.  I ran my tongue along the underside of Little Cliffy, and Little Cliffy jumped and twittered.  My fingers could feel him widening, growing in girth.  Behold my goddess power! 

“Here?” I asked, planting another kiss.  “Or maybe the meanie hurt Little Cliffy here.”  I kissed the side of his burgeoning cock again.

“No,” Cliff whispered.

“Mmm,” I said.  “So many delicious places to kiss you.”  Yeah, I knew what a man wanted to hear when getting a blowjob.  Only a day before, I’d been a man wanting a blowjob.  I knew it almost didn’t matter what I said, as long as I said it huskily, and with desire.  I looked up at Cassie.  The smirk seemed glued on her face, but her eyelids hung low.  Cliff’s hand traveled up, inside her dress.  I resolved to wipe that smirk off her face.  I was going to suck the hell out of Cliff’s cock.  Watch out, Cassie, you were about to witness the blowjob of the century.  That’ll show you!