More visitors

People mentioned so far:

Me. Dawn, 18, the important person.

Brother. Steven, 19, home from uni for the holidays. I'm not a fan.

Father. Vicar, soft and weak. Can barely be called a man. Not going to validate his existence by saying his name.

Mother. Housewife, somehow manages to be both sickeningly kind and yet constantly ruining my life. Similarly not worth naming.

Aunt Becky. Mother's younger sister. Haven't seen her in years.

Uncle Brian. Aunt Becky's husband. Something like 10 years older than her, already grey haired and has a reputation for being "a bit un-PC", or as we call it in the 21st century, bigoted. And as I'm learning, handsy.

Gem Ladies Status:

79.9% nasty, so I require 7990 points to win.

15 seconds remaining in my third game. I have 5750 points. I currently seem able to score somewhere around 1250 points per minute.

The game is paused, in the middle of a bonus round. The rule is, I must wear my tight black vest top with no bra for just under four hours to be rewarded with 250 seconds bonus time, minus penalty time, which appears to be calculated at around 15% of any time I spend on my own.

As far as I can tell, my current rules are:
Whenever I am not completely honest, my breasts balloon in size - the total growth seems to depend on the severity and subjectivity of the lie. But I can correct my dishonesty with the truth to get them to shrink back down. People who see the growth don't notice it and are made to believe that they grew that large naturally during puberty.

If I try to conceal any part of my legs with any clothing other than the shortest of skirts, it feels like the clothing is on fire.

Aroused older men will apparently grope and spank me. Witnesses will justify the act to themselves, and not blame or judge the men.

I have an "Orgasm trigger word: 'Amen'".

As I rejoin the people downstairs, I check the app one last time. I have accumulated 28 seconds of penalty time from doing my make up. Not great, not terrible.

Ding dong!

The doorbell rings as I reach the bottom of the stairs, so I sigh and answer it.

"Happy Birthday Dawn! My, don't you look... Grown up."

It's Matilda and Gregory from church. A retired couple who haven't had anything interesting to say for 20 years. I **** myself to smile sweetly and welcome them inside, waiting for the inevitable grope from the old man.

Think of the end goal. Play your part.

But to my surprise, Gregory just tips his hat and walks past me without even a hint of sexual ****.

...huh.

Not every single man gets instantly aroused upon seeing a somewhat trashily-dressed teen, it would seem.

And maybe Uncle Brian wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't seen me with bigger boobs.

The first part of the party goes better than expected. Family and church-goers continue to arrive, doing their best to pretend that they don't find my appearance shocking or provocative. Even though there are now around twenty old men scattered throughout my house and back garden, I've only had to tolerate a couple of inappropriate arm touches and one gentle pat on the bum. 

In fact, by responding vaguely positively to those transgressions, I've been able to earn another 0.5% niceness in Gem Ladies. 

Every 50 points significantly increases my odds of success.

Even not considering how I'm constantly expecting gropes, socialising pleasantly while looking like a tramp is not easy for me, but then being warm to a bunch of boring old fogies has never been my forte anyway.

Overall this doesn't feel much like a party, but more just like the hour after church service where everyone mingles and chats over tea and biscuits. Just with more of my extended family than usual.

Before too long, two hours out of the four have passed and I'm still sane, if rather self-conscious. I've been trying my very best to give off the impression that I'm comfortable in my current attire but these skimpy clothes are just so far away from anything I've ever worn. I can't shake the feeling of dozens of eyes on my skin.

"Friends and loved ones!" My father shouts from the middle of the garden, banging a spoon on a glass.

"The food is ready. Now if you would please all join me in saying grace, the festivities can properly begin."

Oh shit. He's about to give thanks for the food.

It all happens much too quickly for me to have time to react.

"For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen."

Electric pleasure surges through my body as I orgasm. My knees shake and a slightly sexual "woaoah" escapes my lips, as my hands instinctively go to my crotch.

I realise in that instant that I've never experienced a real orgasm before, even in my own self-exploration. But I have no time to reflect upon that as about 50 voices reply in near unison:

"Amen."

The effect of hearing so many people say "amen" at the same time compared to just hearing my father say it is like the difference between getting pricked by a needle and getting branded by a red hot poker. 

I scream at the top of my lungs in orgasmic bliss. My legs become weaker than jelly and I drop to the grass. In an instant I am lying on my back, writhing and shuddering in ecstasy and gripping my pussy tightly with both hands.

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god!" I continue to yell as waves of indescribable brain-melting pleasure continue to crash through me. It doesn't matter that everybody is watching - I have no control any more, my conscious control over my actions temporarily rescinded as I continue my best impression of a religious banshee having a fit.

Eventually of course, the climax begins to subside and Dawn-capable-of-coherent-thought returns. The silence in the garden is deafening.

"Did you just..." My father begins, but can't find the words to continue.

My brother can. "...orgasm?" He asks with more awe than disgust.

"I'll have what she's having!" Aunt Becky tries to joke. A few people **** a polite chuckle.

"NO! No. Of course not!" I already feel my breasts begin to swell with the lie but I don't care. I just can't have people all believe I just had a screaming orgasm in front of them.

Or even worse, they'd probably conclude that I acted out one just to get attention.

"I... I just had a spiritual experience! God just spoke to me! He commanded me to, err, serve his cause, to spread his joy and cheer and the good news!"

In response to this massive stinker of a lie, my breasts rapidly grow, and to larger than ever before. They're probably an H cup now. They look rather ridiculous on my petite frame, but I don't care. A small price to pay for being allowed this lie. If it works, I'm not taking it back.

Two second of silence pass as the skeptical audience are trying to decide whether to believe me. But then my father raises his hands to the sky.

"Praise the Lord! On the day of her womanhood, he has annointed Dawn and called her to follow in my footsteps. He truly is great! Praise the Lord!"

"Praise the Lord!" A few of the more pious church members parrot. And then more follow and soon pretty much everyone is shouting their praises and rejoicing.

I hear one more "Amen!" from someone in the crowd and instantly suffer another incredible, amazing orgasm. I muffle my moan with a hand. I'm already lying on the ground, so thankfully I don't have to worry about almost falling over.

I've got to get out of here before anyone else says it...

As I rise to my feet, I almost immediately topple from the new unexpected weight up front. Looking down at my new assets, I reflect that the word 'breasts' now seems insufficient to describe these masses of flesh lewdly stretching out my vest top with excessive amounts of cleavage. Words like 'honkers' and 'bazookas' feel more appropriate now.

Everyone now wants to give me a hug and a congratulations, starting with my parents. I'm not going to be able to retreat from the garden until they've all had a chance. My new melons feel weird as they squash against them, a new barrier to hugs that I haven't had a problem with before.

The problem only worsens as more distant relatives move in to embrace me and tell me how proud they are. Men might not always get horny just from seeing a trashy young woman, but a trashy young woman with massive knockers pressed up into them is a different story. Each hug from an uncle starts normally but after a couple of seconds becomes an ass grope. And once they start, they really don't want to stop, each taking much too long to finally release me.

I have too many uncles.

It's all I can manage to endure the ass groping without clawing their eyes out. I don't have the mental energy to thank them for their fondling right now, even if it would earn me more Nice Points.

Uncle Brian takes it even further. Surprising me from behind, he grabs my brand new hooters from around my torso and pulls me in for a bear hug, kneading my massive mammaries like dough.

"So, a divine vision... Turns out this girl is blessed in more ways than one!" He says loudly before laughing at his one joke. Now even more men are looking at my jugs.

"Let go of me, you creep!" I snarl, unable to help myself. "Keep your hands to yourself!"

Aware that I'm gaining Nasty Points by the second, I try to wrestle out of his grip and get away before things get even worse, but it proves to be completely in vain. He's way too strong, and his hands are gripping my babylons like they're handlebars.

"Now now dear, that's no way to speak to your uncle." My mother says delicately.

Uncle Brian just laughs and pinches my nipples through my top, stinging me with the pain and making them stand on end. "Don't worry, this is just how we rib on each other, isn't it Dawn?"

I squeal with a mixture of pleasure, pain and panic as my nipples become trapped between his fingers and thumbs. He is twisting them just a little, as if trying to subtly threaten me with more pain if I don't comply. I seethe and growl but don't vocally disagree with his statement.

"You can tell they like it when their nipples get hard." Uncle Brian continues. "Check for yourselves if you don't believe me."

I look around as women start to stare at my nipples poking through my vest as he tweaks them, but men look down or away. As before, it's not socially acceptable for them to olge an 18 year old's breasts.

It is okay for them to touch them, though. How ridiculous. Oh wait, that means... Oh no.

What I feared is in fact already underway. Uncle Brian holds me tight by the breasts but releases my nipples. One by one, the old men of my church walk up to feel how hard my nipples are without looking at them. It's completely surreal and deeply humiliating.

And then, it gets worse. Gregory, the old man who I was so pleased with for not molesting me when he first arrived, pushes two fingers into the front of my panties, feeling up my pussy.

"She's soaking wet, too! She really is enjoying this!"

No, it's because I came with the **** of 50 orgasms just a couple of minutes ago.

"You're wrong! Get your hands off my pussy, you pervert!"

A few gasps ring out from the crowd.

"Language, Dawn!" My father chastises me, gentle but agitated.

The word 'pussy' is hardly the thing you should be outraged about! Your daughter is being assaulted in front of your eyes!

"Such lewd language from such a young lady." Uncle Brian teases. Letting go of my melons, he wraps one arm around my stomach in a tight grip and sends his other hand down to get a feel of my vagina for himself. The only two men to ever touch my sex are these two disgusting individuals. It beggars belief.

"Oh wow, you're right! Absolutely dripping!"

This is bad. Not only has the molestation escalated, but the men watching are getting more and more aroused, which will in turn lead to further indecent ****. I scream at the top of my lungs and kick my legs.

My mother and father sigh and look at each other with a knowing expression. "Hormones." They say in unison.

"I'm an adult now! Stop treating me like a teenage and moreover SOMEBODY GET THIS BRUTE OFF OF ME!"

"Let's not tease the poor girl too much." Suggests Aunt Becky.

"Okay, okay okay!" Uncle Brian chuckles and suddenly releases me, which makes me drop to the floor in surprise. My skirt flips up at the back, and on this position on my hands and knees, the whole crowd can see my wet panties. There's gasps and murmurs from the party guests as they see the evidence my sexual climaxes have left behind. I turn bright red with shame.

"This is the worst day of my life!" I scream and clamber my way to my feet, before retreating into the house and up the stairs and into the bathroom before anyone else can try to grab my vagina.

Insulted Uncle Brian
+0.5% Nasty

Resisted and caused a scene
+5.8% Nasty

Bonus time penalty:
32 seconds...
33 seconds...

Fighting back tears, I do some quick maths. I now need 2820 more points. That means that two minutes probably isn't quite enough, but three minutes should be more than plenty. From my starting 250 bonus seconds plus 15 remaining original seconds, I can afford to lose around 100 before things start to look risky. By how fast the penalty seconds stack up, that gives me somewhere in the region of 8 minutes to calm my nerves before I have to rejoin the gang of molesters and their enablers in the garden for the second half of the daytime party. 8 minutes to come to terms with my new titantic ta-tas.

In two hours, they'll be gone.

Cradling my new bizarre chest, I sit on the toilet behind the locked bathroom door and stare at my phone in silence, watching the number of penalty seconds tick up.

What am I in for if I go back down there? Can I handle it? Is anyone going to say 'Amen' again?

After the eight minutes is up, I shake my head, and give myself a slap.

Snap out of it. you're Dawn Dibley. Show this app who's boss. Even if it means...

I shudder.

Even if it means letting more men feel up your pussy.