Murphy Ranch Chapter 3: Inviting the neighbors to dinner 

Murphy Ranch Chapter 3: Inviting the neighbors to dinner

Chapter 3: Inviting the neighbors to dinner

Donna woke with a start. Sunshine streamed into her bedroom. Where am I? She lifted her head, and looked around. Slowly, it came back to her. How much of it had been a dream? She tried to piece it together in her mind. She had driven to the Murphy Ranch, was auctioned off to the gentleman. The gentleman's master, to be exact. Then she cleverly avoided being raped by that rascal, Bruno. She had milk and cookies with the girls at midnight. The girls are fun, she thought, unaware she was smiling, and gently stroking her clit. Then she must have gone back to bed, because everything else was a dream. In her dreams, Bruno came into her bedroom and made passionate love to her. No wait... That was real. And then in her dreams, the girls visited her, in ones and twos, and they spent the whole night licking each others' pussies and assholes. "I love having my asshole licked," she said, not realizing she was talking out loud. The lozenge vibrators were still humming inside her -- one in her butt, and the other in her cunt, enhancing her dream recollections. What powers these amazing things? she wondered, as she felt her pussy juices flowing once again.

Time to get up, she thought. She climbed out of bed, feeling a little stiff, but otherwise strong and happy, and went to the bathroom. Plop! She laughed when she recognized this little pooplet as her butt vibrator. Should I fish it out? Naaah, there are plenty in the drawer. I'll get another one later. She stepped into the shower, wondering where the knob was to turn on the water. She closed the door, whereupon water splashed on her from various angles at once. The temperature was perfect. Ahhh, this is the life. She luxuriated for -- how long? She didn't know. -- but finally, she felt it was time to get out and dry off. Then she remembered. There was not a single towel in the place. She opened the door, and stepped out of the shower, when a whoosh! of warm air made her wet hair fly into the air. The air blew up from vents in the floor and in the walls. Amazing! She soon found she was right at home in this bathroom. All the equipment for fixing her hair, doing her makeup, and every other form of personal grooming was right at her fingertips. Before long, she got herself dolled up better than ever. She looked -- and felt -- like a million bucks.

But what can I wear?

Last night she had been forced to strip, but, except for a midnight snack with the girls, she stayed in her room, where she felt comfortable naked. Now she was rested, but hungry. She wanted breakfast, but she was a stranger in this house. When would she meet her new master? Whatever was in store for her, she really didn't want to face it in the nude. A pair of panties, even, would be better than nothing. At this point, she was so desperate for clothing she would settle for a sports bra just so she wouldn't be stark naked, although a nice mini-dress with a pair of panties under it would be best. She sat back in one of the many chairs in her bedroom, dangling her legs over the arm rests, and rested her hands in her lap. "What can I wear?" she wondered aloud.

As if she had heard Donna's question, her maid burst into the room. (Actually, she had heard it -- she had been watching "Donna TV".) "The master is very frugal with clothing," she said. "He only gives you what is necessary."

"Well, I need to wear *something*," Donna said.

"I agree. But the master says you have to choose."

"Boy, the master loves his games, doesn't he. OK, what are my choices?"

"He says you can have these panties today, or else you can wait for a skirt tomorrow." She held up a pair of tiny, sheer, white bikini panties.

"Can I try them on first, before I decide?"

"I don't see why not." She handed Donna the panties.

Donna put them on, and admired herself in the mirror. Their "french cut" made her long legs look longer, and although her pussy was still fully visible through them, somehow she felt "covered up". Something about the suggestion of being covered -- it's almost as good as actually *being* covered. She was strongly tempted to take the panties, and forgo tomorrow's skirt. Take the sure thing, she always said, rather than some idle promise. "What will I be doing today?" she asked. This had a strong bearing on her choice of clothes, of course. If she would be going out to dinner at a restaurant, for example, then she should have something to wear so she wouldn't be naked. But if it was going to be just another day at the house, she could afford to be naked for one more day in exchange for better clothes the next day.

"I believe the master has planned a quiet evening at home."

"Then I'll wait for the skirt," Donna said with a sigh. She took off the sexy panties, and handed them to the maid. It was hard for her to be naked in public, but the "private public" of the house wouldn't be quite as bad as the "public public" of a restaurant. She resigned herself to be naked for one more day.

"Excellent choice, Donna." The maid seemed genuinely pleased with Donna's choice. She patted the cute girl on the butt, smiled at her, and wiped a tear that had started rolling down her cheek. "You'll be fine," she said, stroking Donna gently. "Come on downstairs, and I'll get you something to eat."

Donna followed the maid down the grand spiral stairway, feeling a bit exposed by the wide open spaces inside the house. She offered Donna a seat in the sun room off the kitchen. Donna was glad to sit down and cross her legs. Somehow she felt a little less naked when she was seated. The maid set about preparing some sort of delecacy. Donna couldn't wait.

Ding dong! It was the door bell.

"Would you get that please, dear?" the maid asked Donna.

"Like this?" Donna gestured to her naked boobs.

The maid huffed loudly, and started stomping in the direction of the front door. "Wait! wait!" called Donna. The maid started back toward the kitchen as Donna continued, "I'll get the door. You are so nice to make me something to eat, so the least I can do is get the door. I'm sorry."

The maid accepted her apology, and resumed her preparations.

Ding dong!

"OK, just a minute," Donna called. The thought of meeting a stranger in the nude filled her with tingling excitement. She looked down at her pussy and sighed. She wished her lips would close so it wasn't so obvious she was excited. She briefly entertained the idea of hiding behind the door, but then it dawned on her that this might be a test. In the end, she decided to bite the bullet and just swing the door open. Shit! It's a girl scout selling cookies. She thought about covering her pussy, but that would just draw attention to it. The girl scout seemed at a loss for words. Deciding to play it cool, Donna bent forward and spoke first. "Hello, little girl. What can I do for you."

"Um, would you like to buy some cookies?"

Donna pantomimed checking her pockets. "Sorry, little girl. I have no money."

The girl scout turned and walked away. Donna could see a car idling at the end of the long driveway.

Donna closed the door, and returned to the kitchen. "Girl scout cookies," she explained. Donna's pussy was fully puffed out between her lips. She sat with her legs apart to allow her excitement to subside, but she was shy about letting the maid see how excited she was, so she covered her pussy with one hand.

"How many boxes did you buy?" asked the maid.

"None. No money." She absently stroked her slippery clit.

"Oh, that's a shame. You could have just taken some from the money jar."

"I didn't know. Sorry."

"Next time you'll know."

Ding dong!

Donna stood up and looked at the maid, wishing she would get the door this time. The maid just looked back at her, and then at the chair where Donna had been sitting. Donna looked at the chair, and saw the puddle she had left. She covered her face in shame. "Sorry."

"It's OK, dear. Some of the other girls moisten their seats as well. Get the door now."

"Thank you," said Donna. She walked to the front door, and tried to will her pussy to shrink back behind its lips as she opened it. She was relieved to see it was the girl scout again. Donna squatted, and said "Hello again, little girl."

"My dad says I should give you ten boxes of cookies if you let him fuck you."

"What!?" Such language from a cute little girl!

"My dad says I should give you..."

"I heard what you said. I'm just amazed he would make such an offer. Tell him..." She wanted to tell the girl to tell her dad to go fuck himself, but she restrained herself. "Tell him no thank you."

The girl left, and Donna closed the door. "Can you believe that?" she said to the maid once she got to the kitchen.

"I heard," she replied. "You should have said yes."

"Really?" Donna was amazed. She sat in her puddle and asked, "Would the master want me fucking strange men in his house? for girl scout cookies?"

"Not in the house, no. You should do it on the front lawn."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm being totally straight with you. The master wants us to be nice to the neighbors. If one of them comes to us with a reasonable proposal, then we should agree to it. To be nice, I'm saying. Don't you want to be nice to the neighbors?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

Ding dong!

"Now what?!" This place was like Grand Central Station. Donna got up, and opened the door.

It was the little girl again. "Twenty boxes."

Donna looked over her shoulder, and saw the maid peering out of the kitchen. She was making a shooing motion with her hands. Fucking some strange guy for twenty boxes of girl scout cookies had not been on her list of things to do this morning. Desperately she tried to think of a way out of it. She stepped into the sunshine and closed the door behind her. All the household staff went to the windows to watch as Donna strutted her long legs to the car. She was going to tell the man off. How dare you send your daughter to the door with such a crazy offer? Hopefully he would leave with his "tail" between his legs. But when she got to the car she caught her breath. "He's an Adonis," she muttered. She felt her pussy swell as he opened the door and started walking toward her. He was wearing only a pair of shorts, his muscles rippling. She backed up as he approached. He pulled his shorts off and started walking faster, so Donna turned around and started running for the front door. But he was too fast for her. He grabbed her around the middle, making her bend over. He slipped right in. Donna struggled, but he was too strong for her. Four or five good pumps was all it took. Donna was mad at herself for cumming, too. She screamed, and the man grunted. She collapsed on the ground, while the man went back to his car.

The little girl, who had been watching the whole thing, came over and brushed the hair out of Donna's face. "Are you OK?"

"Just leave the cookies by the front door."

Donna collected herself, and managed to get inside the house. The maid called from the kitchen, "Come, dear, you must be exhausted. Have something to eat."

She returned to her seat, on which the maid had left a thick, fuzzy towel. She sat on it with her legs apart, so that all the juices would be absorbed. The maid placed dishes, silverware, and cups in front of her. "Thank you," said Donna. She ate hungrily, barely noticing her food. How long had it been since she had eaten? Time and space were very blurry now.

Knock, knock, knock-knock, knock!

Instinctively, Donna got up to answer the door. After being raped by the girl scout's father, she was numb to any embarrassment over her nudity. "Sit," said the maid. "That's Bruno's knock. He'll let himself in."

What a relief! Donna continued scarfing her food, barely looking up when Bruno entered the room. When she did look up she started laughing.

"What," said Bruno.

Donna just pointed at him, and continued laughing, her tits bouncing, and half-chewed food tumbling out of her mouth.

Bruno was taken aback. "This is a man skirt," he said. "Everyone's wearing them now."

Finally, Donna managed to compose herself. "It's not that," she said. "It's your dick."

His dick was hanging a good two inches below the bottom of his man skirt. He had forgotten to tuck it into the "dick pocket" in the front of his skirt. He turned bright red and muttered some excuse as he arranged himself. "That's much better," said Donna. She liked the new fashions, including the man skirt and the man dress. She also liked the fact that most boys don't wear underwear under their micro-minis (boys apparently find thongs uncomfortable, Donna theorized). Finally, girls and boys are on an equal footing now that both sexes enjoy wearing micro-minis. Boys now have a taste of the dangers of wearing short styles, and so they've become more tactful, and avoid looking under girls' skirts, and the girls are just as respectful of the boys' privacy. (Although a few girls have been known to discretely glance up at boys on stairs.)

Donna patted the seat next to hers. "Join me for a bite."

He sat next to her, and put his arm around her shoulders. He gently stroked her hair, following its curls down her neck, and onto the front of her chest. He enjoyed watching her nipples harden. "The master has given us a job to do."

"What do you do with your balls?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, when you're sitting like this, in your man skirt, where do your balls go?"

He casually lifted the front of his skirt (and his dick as well since it was in the dick pocket) to show her. "They just hang there," he explained.

"They're so cute, resting on the seat in front of you." She couldn't resist petting them.

"Thank you," he said. Her touch felt good. As she continued to stroke his balls, he was able to let his skirt go, because it stayed up on its own.

"What's the job?" Donna asked.

"Oh," said Bruno. Somehow, sitting next to a beautiful naked girl who was stroking his balls, he had forgotten the thread of their conversation. It took him a minute to recollect. "We have to invite the neighbors to the master's dinner party."

"He wants us to write the invitations?"

"No, he wants us to go in person to the houses in the neighborhood."

"What should I wear?"

"To the party?"

"No, I mean to visit the neighbors."

"Wear anything you like." She didn't object as he continued stroking her front, easing his hands ever lower on her belly.

"But I have nothing to wear," she said, lifting her hands from his dick long enough to show her palms in a gesture of nothingness.

He smiled, noticing she spread her legs apart, too, in a whole-body gesture. "That would be fine."

She laughed. "I'm not going naked to see all our neighbors!" She spread her legs even farther apart, resting one of them against him. She continued stroking his balls, and along his fully extended shaft.

He casually rested his hand on her inner thigh, just inches from her pussy. "If the master says to do it, you have to do it."

"Maybe we can go tomorrow. The master said he would give me a skirt tomorrow." She didn't flinch as he stroked her moist bits.

"The master wants it done today. Oh, and one more thing. You will be posing as the master's wife, so act as dignified as you can."

"So the master isn't married, then?"

He laughed, "Oh, no."

"Don't the neighbors know that?"

He closed his eyes as he neared the point of no return. "No, the master keeps to himself."

"How long has the master lived here?" She leaned back and opened her legs fully.

He inserted his middle finger into her pussy, his other fingers stroking her cheeks, allowing his ring finger to barely reach her tight little asshole. "You ask an awful lot of questions."

"Has the master ever had the neighbors over for dinner before?"

"Yes, I think so... Maybe not."

"Who posed as his wife at the last dinner party?"

Bruno took her hand. "You ask way too many questions. Come on, let's go." He gently pulled her in the direction of the front door. Neither one of them came, but they were "this" close. They got up with their genitals aching for more. Bruno pretended not to notice the front of his man skirt was still held up by his erect penis.

"You aren't really going to drag me outside, are you?" As he kept pulling her hand, her reluctence turned to panic, "No, please," she begged, "let me wear *something*." Her mind reeled, and she had a thought: "wouldn't it be easier to convince people I'm the master's wife if I'm wearing clothes?"

He paused to think about that, looking her up and down. She was quite a sight, clearly on the brink of cumming, her pussy open like a flower in full bloom. "Maybe, but it's a moot point." He grabbed her hand and pulled. When she resisted, he picked up her naked body, and carried her out of the house, closing the door behind them.

The fight had somehow drained out of her. She had given it her best shot, and lost. She allowed him to set her down on the sidewalk outside their house. She was at once resigned to her fate, and filled with trepedation. "A moot point?"

"Yes, you made a good point, but it doesn't matter because you have no clothes to wear."

As they walked along the sidewalk, Bruno kept his grip on her hand, maneuvering her to the street side. As a car neared, she tried to switch places with him, but he kept her on the street side. She covered her pussy with her free hand. After the car passed, she had another idea. "I know," she said, "I can wear your skirt."

"Then *I* would be naked."

"Yes," she said simply. She smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling. He couldn't think of anything clever to say, so they just walked together, hand in hand. He was thankful to have a man skirt to keep him from being as naked as his cute little girlfriend. She appeared to be in a dark mood, dwelling on the unfairness of having to go naked while Bruno had clothes to wear. Then, when Bruno was least expecting it, Donna whipped her hand out of his grasp, and yanked -- hard! -- on his skirt, pulling it off him. She ran onto the front lawn of their first neighbor's house, flying his skirt like a flag of victory, laughing her little head off. He ran after her, caught up to her, and wrestled her to the ground. She was still laughing as he whipped his skirt out of her hands, and put it back on.

Donna got up and dusted herself off, and followed Bruno to the front door. Either Bruno already rang the bell, or the homeowner was alerted by their horseplay on the front lawn, because the door opened immediately. It was a beautiful young blonde in a white micro-minidress. Was this the lady of the house? Or her daughter? Donna looked at Bruno, hoping he would talk first. Bruno looked at Donna, who looked back at the stunning girl. The girl couldn't take her eyes off Donna's pussy, which was a good thing in a way. It gave Donna a chance to admire the girl's dress. Was she wearing underwear? Donna couldn't tell. After what seemed like several minutes of silence (it was probably just a few seconds) Donna spoke. "My husband and I will be having a dinner party," she said.

The girl managed to wrest her gaze from Donna's pussy. "Uh huh," she managed to say. She looked back and forth between Donna and Bruno.

More silence followed. Donna realized she didn't know exactly when this dinner party would be. Then she saw the girl was about to draw the conclusion that Bruno was her husband. "Oh, no," Donna said. "This isn't my husband, this is Bruno." She expected Bruno to shake the girl's hand, and say How do you do, or something. But he said nothing, and the poor girl looked horribly confused. Donna kept trying. "My husband and I live in the house next door." She gestured vaguely, causing the girl to crane her neck in the general direction of the house where Donna has been living for the past day or two.

"Oh," the girl said, finally.

More silence. Donna gaped at Bruno, her mind screaming, "say when the party will be!!" Instead Bruno had an infuriating look of calm amusement on his face as Donna squirmed. Another few seconds passed, and then Donna took decisive action. "Bruno, please tell my lovely neighbor when this party will be."

"Why don't you both come in," said the girl. She glanced uneasily at Bruno, then Donna, then Bruno again, as she opened the door wider, and stepped back to let them in.

Donna looked at Bruno, who gestured ladies first. She followed the girl into a sumptuous living room. "Please have a seat," she said. Apparently, she was over the shock of Donna's nudity. She was a pretty sexy dresser herself, Donna noted.

Donna took a seat on one of two white leather couches, sinking deep into it, and Bruno sat next to her. The girl took a seat in the other couch, casually lifting the back of her dress, because it wasn't quite long enough to sit on. She sat with her legs coyly slanted so as to preclude a clear view between her legs. "When will your party be?" she asked.

Donna looked at Bruno again. He seemed very interested in arranging his man skirt. Donna smiled when he realized he was embarrassed to be sitting so low in the couch that the girl could see between his legs. "It will be the day after tomorrow," she said, finally.

"Sunday?" said the girl.

Donna realized she had no idea what day it was. "Is today Friday?"

"All day," said the girl, smiling.

"Well then, Sunday," said Donna.

The girl looked doubtful. "Well, um," she began.

"How about tomorrow, then?" Bruno asked.

You idiot! Donna thought. Tomorrow is too soon! The master will be giving me just one thing to wear -- a skirt -- which is totally unsuitable for a dinner party.

"Tomorrow would be delightful!" said the girl, as she stood up, arranging her dress to cover herself. "We will be glad to attend."

Donna and Bruno stood up. "It was very nice to meet you," said Donna.

As they walked down the driveway, Donna was relieved that her nudity didn't seem odd to the homeowner. Or Bruno's man skirt, for that matter. "Do you even know her name?"

Bruno was distracted. "Whose name?"

"The gorgeous lady we just talked to!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Maybe I should have introduced you." Bruno paused to smile at the adorable way Donna rolled her big eyes. "Her name is Zelda. Zelda Zanzibar."

"That's a catchy name."

"It sure is, and get this: her husband's name is Ziggy. Ziggy and Zelda Zanzibar."

"Well I guess I won't forget their names." They walked in silence for a minute. Then Donna said, "Just so I won't seem like a complete idiot, what are the names of the other people on this street?"

"In the second house are Yves and Yvonne Yarrow."

"Two girls?"

"No, Yves is a man. It's spelled Y V E S."

Donna tried to hide her disappointment. She was hoping for a pair of lipstick lesbians. Then she smiled. "They all begin with Y!"

"Yeah, I guess they do. I never noticed that."

"So who's in the third house," Donna joked, "William and Wanda?"

"A very good guess!" Bruno was honestly surprised. "Their names are Wilbur and Wilma Wilifitt."

"Oh my God! You're making these up!"

Bruno looked hurt. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh, come on," Donna said. "Everyone's name in the first house begins with Z. Everyone's name in the second house begins with Y. Everyone's..."

"That *is* interesting," Bruno said. Donna looked at him for any trace of a smirk, but there was none.

Bruno gave Donna a playful pat on the butt as they walked to the next house. They visited the other three houses in the neighborhood. With each house, the task got easier. Each time, the woman of the house was home, and each time, Donna said simply, "My husband and I would like to invite you to a dinner party tomorrow evening." Each of the women appeared to take Bruno as Donna's husband, but she let that go. That misunderstanding does no harm, she reasoned. At the third house, the girl asked what time the party would be. Donna guessed 6 PM. The girl said 8 would be better, so Donna said 8 would be fine. "Should we go back and tell the first two that the party is at 8?", Donna asked. Bruno said it wasn't important. How could that not be important? This whole dinner party thing was very odd.

Next: Chapter 4: Grocery Shopping