Revenge of the Bridesmaids Read online

  Revenge of the Bridesmaids

  by

  Chastity Foelds

  Copyright © Revenge of the Bridesmaids by Chastity Foelds

  Cover Art © Can Stock Photo Inc.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  I probably shouldn't have bought that economy size package of Rohypnol when I was on spring break in Cancun. Still, who can resist a bargain? Isn’t it a virtue to be thrifty? And the economy size was cheap, cheap, cheap. I was surprised to see Rohypnol—also known as roofies, the date rape drug—on sale at all. And at such a steal!

  At the time it seemed like no big deal. It kind of made sense, logically-speaking. I liked getting laid. I was lazy about it. The chicks were going to say yes eventually anyway, so why beat around the bush, so to speak?

  I probably shouldn’t have used all the pills.

  Now, hold on. I didn't go through the whole package down in Mexico. I'm not an animal. I used them over a period of a few years, like a civilized person. And I never got caught. Sometimes I felt bad about it, but then I just thought about something else and the bad feelings went away.

  Ah, whatever. Life is too short to live with regret. All the girls had a good time—even if they can't remember.

  Regret wasn't what was on my mind as I drove up the New England coast to Chet and Lisa's wedding. No, no regrets. I merely had reservations—not hotel reservations, but mental reservations. It wasn't the bride I was worried about. I'd never used a roofie on Lisa. Chet and Lisa were high school sweethearts, and dated all through college. I respected that. But the bridesmaids were a different story. Lisa had four bridesmaids in her wedding party. I knew three of them. Actually, I had carnal knowledge of three of them.

  To be blunt, I had roofied three of them.

  I didn't know the fourth bridesmaid, Amber. I'd never even met her. Too bad I was out of roofies, otherwise I could complete my bridesmaid collection. I supposed I could try and charm and seduce Amber when I met her, but that seemed like a lot of work.

  Next month I was headed back down to Mexico. I'd replenish my roofie supply then.

  Ah, the memories! Brenda, Cassie, and Donna had been great in the sack—even though roofies can make a girl a wee bit listless, their bodies were rocking. Hey, I was doing all the grunt work! Not wanting to ever forget, I videoed them all. Some nights I'd watch the videos before jerking off. In a way, I was honoring their memory with my ritual of respect. I'm classy like that.

  Steering the car to the exit for Provincetown, I felt my mouth run dry.

  Two months ago, the flash drive with my videos of Brenda, Cassie, and Donna had gone missing.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The destination wedding was on the shore at a B&B that featured several cabins and a main house. There was a huge restored barn that would serve as the wedding hall, and a view of the ocean from the wide lawn. It all sat high up on a cliff, and was very charming. I wasn't the first to arrive, by far, but I wasn't the last, either. The wedding was the next day, and that night was the bridal party.

  I wasn't in the bridal party, so I could have arrived a day later, but I wanted to attend the rehearsal dinner, and perhaps reignite some old flames.

  Cassie spotted me first as I walked to the gazebo. Her white shorts contrasted sharply with her tan legs, and her spaghetti strap top jounced pleasingly as she ran towards me, her red Keds eating up the green lawn.

  "Hey, Stud," Cassie screamed. "You made it!" Cassie wrapped her arms around me and gave me a huge hug. I hugged her in return. When she pulled away, she did her best Austin Powers and said, "Do weddings make you horny, baby?"

  "Everything makes me horny," I replied. Cassie bounced in my arms and gave me another fierce hug.

  "Some things never change," someone behind me said. I recognized that voice! I turned and spotted Brenda, her auburn curls cascading down to her shoulders, which were left bare by her sundress. Brenda was all smiles.

  "Hey, Brenda," I said. "Let me carry that." Cassie was reluctant to let me go, but she did. I reached over and grabbed the heavy bucket of clams that was making Brenda lean to one side. Man, Brenda looked good.

  "Always the gentleman, Andy," Brenda said. She kissed me on my cheek. I blushed a bit, as I remembered the cute little mole over her shaved cunt that Brenda thought was her little secret. Gentleman! If she only knew!

  With one girl on each arm, I walked over to the gazebo where Chet and Lisa were chatting up the wedding guests. Chet introduced me to the groomsmen. I was not happy. Javier, Art, Devon, and Cliff—the groomsmen—were all incredibly good looking. This was going to hurt my odds. I wished I still had some roofies. The good news was neither Brenda nor Cassie were dating any of the groomsmen. Cassie clung to my arm as we all made small talk. Cassie was going to be easy pickings, and I thought it might be nice to sleep with her when she wasn’t knocked out by roofies, but I didn’t want to over-commit just yet. Cassie wasn't the prize I wanted most.

  "Is Donna here yet?" I asked.

  "She's surfing," Cassie said. "You know how she is. If Donna hears a wave, she has to grab her board. She should be back soon."

  "Hey, Gentleman Andy!" Brenda called out from across the lawn. "How about a hand with these clams?" Brenda was next to the gazebo, using the outdoor ping-pong table as a staging area for her work with the bucket of clams.

  "I don't know how to open them," I muttered.

  Cassie squeezed my arm, rubbing her tit against me. "I'll teach you. It's easy!" Oh, boy. Cassie was all over me—opening her clam was going to be easy, too.

  We strolled over to ping-pong table, and Brenda held out a clam knife for me. "Careful," she said. "It's sharp."

  "Like my rapier wit," I said.

  "No, way sharper," Brenda replied. “Thank goodness, otherwise we wouldn’t get anything opened.”

  Cassie held my hand and placed a clam in it. "Hold it like this," Cassie said, "and then press the knife against the bulge. Use your four fingers on the back of the blade to apply pressure, and presto! Opened clam!" Cassie’s hand folded over mine, and it lingered there. So adorable, she was. A little bit crazy, but that was cool.

  Opening clams was easier than it looked. I got the hang of it pretty quickly, but I had Cassie show me a few more times anyway. Cassie kept rubbing up against me, and it was making me hard. I had wondered which of the girls was going to be the Wedding Slut, and now I was pretty sure it'd be Cassie.

  "How's law school going?" I asked Cassie.

  "Don't you read my Facebook posts? I graduated e
arly," Cassie said.

  "Wow," I replied. "You always were super smart. I guess I owe you a present." Wow, I never thought she’d make it. Cassie was a bit unstable, and I didn’t think she’d see law school through to the end.

  Cassie bounced on her toes, and her blouse jostled loosely, drawing my eyes to her soft, sweet breasts. "I'll hold you to that, mister."

  "Hey, look," Brenda said, "Gentleman Andy is pretty good with a clam knife." She grinned and kept opening clams at a rate of two for each one I did. "So, Andy, how's life since college?" Brenda asked.

  "Pretty good," I said. "The job is alright. Boston is a fun town."

  "Wait until you see the wedding party dresses Brenda made," Cassie said to me, leaning close. She was opening clams at a pretty brisk rate herself, and the air started to smell rich with ocean bounty. "You, sir," Cassie continued, "are going to have trouble keeping your dick in your pants."

  "He always does," Brenda added.

  "Aw, come on," I said. "I'm not that bad."

  "No," Cassie said. "You're that good." She jostled my arm, rubbing her tit against me again. “At least that’s the word on the street.”

  “Nice streets you hang out on, you little delinquent.”

  I looked over toward Cassie, but then I spotted Donna coming up the cliff path. Donna was toting her surfboard, and she wore a one-piece navy blue bathing suit that was still wet from the waves. The suit was like a second skin, and kept no secrets. Donna had such a rocking bod. She waved at me. I gave her a nod, not wanting to seem too eager. My eyes drank her in. Donna didn't have an ounce of fat on her, and she had a lean strength that didn't lessen her feminine appeal. It enhanced it. Donna was like a goddess who’d climbed out of the sea.

  Oww!

  "You cut yourself," Brenda said. "Don't bleed on the clams!"

  I looked down, and sure enough, my thumb was sliced open, right on the pad.

  "First aid kit!" Cassie cried. She ran to the main house of the B&B. Man, those red Keds could fly! And her cute little rear could jiggle, too.

  I wrapped a napkin around my bleeding thumb.

  "Hey Andy," Donna said as she laid her board against the side of the gazebo. Her wet hair glistened with sunlight. "You still hang ten?"

  "On occasion."

  "Well then give us a hug, my boogie brotha." Donna stretched out her tan arms. They still glistened. "I hope you don't mind getting wet."

  "Never have," I replied, and I hauled her in. "Surfer Girl, you fit against me like a pea in a pod." Her head nestled under my chin. Donna's hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and it smelled of the sea. I ran my non-bleeding hand along her back. Donna's body was solid and feisty, exactly as I remembered.

  "I've wanted to see you again for so long, Andy," Donna whispered into my chest. "We have unfinished business, you and I." Crap. Donna was making my dick hard. There was no way she couldn't notice. Fuck it. It was a compliment.

  Cassie returned with the first aid kit and said, "Give me your thumb," killing the mood. I reluctantly let go of Donna. "It's a clean slice,” Cassie said. “Just a little antiseptic and a tight bandaid should do the trick."

  "Am I off the hook for opening clams?" I asked Brenda.

  "Yeah. Did you cut yourself just to get out of it?" Brenda asked with a grin, wagging a clam knife at me. "I know you're tricky like that."

  "Nope," I said. "Yowch!" I looked down at Cassie, who was holding my hand open-faced up. She had a little sleeve of powdered antiseptic that she had sprinkled on my bleeding thumb.

  "Sorry," she said. "Does it sting?"

  "Hell yeah!"

  "Too bad. It's good for you." Cassie kissed my thumb and put a bandaid on it.

  "Aw," Donna said. She punched my arm. "Did the big, strong man get a boo boo?"

  "Not funny, surfer girl," I said. "It really hurts. I might need stitches."

  "Don't be a baby," Brenda said. "I cut myself all the time.” She set back to opening clams. I noticed her fix Cassie with a knowing gaze, and then Brenda turned back to me and said, “You're acting like a little girl."

  The three of them giggled.

  That was my first clue, and I missed it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  We didn't open all the clams. Some we saved for a clambake. The B&B's lawn had a stone fire pit, and we got a roaring blaze going and did up a rustic outdoor barbecue for the rehearsal dinner. Brenda and Donna were hitting on the groomsmen, but Cassie stayed by my side. I really wanted Donna, especially since I'd seen her rise from the cliff stairs like Venus on a half shell, but Cassie would do.

  The groom, Chet, his short blond hair perfectly barbered—a huge departure from his sloppy mop in college—gave a speech thanking us all for coming. "Man," Cassie whispered to me, "Lisa is such a tough cookie even Chet's stutter is gone. The Tiger Lady won't have it." I nodded and grinned.

  "I'm afraid of Lisa too," I whispered.

  "You should be," Cassie said. I looked over at Cassie. I could see down her top. No bra whatsoever, and puppies that still looked ever-sweet. Yeah, I wanted Donna, but I wasn't foolish enough to throw away a sure thing. Besides, who said I couldn’t have both—I’d be there two nights. I wrapped my arm around Cassie's shoulder and pulled her close. Cassie melted right into me. Donna was watching us from across the crowd. I gave Donna a wink and she blew me a kiss. I began to think I could easily get with both of them before this wedding was over.

  Chet finished up his speech. Cassie was right. Chet's stutter was gone. Lisa also gave some thank-you's, and then we all circulated around the fire pit and filled our bellies with clams, burgers, and cold salads.

  We were having a good time. I found myself trying to sneak glimpses of Donna, who'd thrown a beach skirt around her hips but was still wearing the bathing suit. The one-piece hid nothing, but Donna had nothing to hide. Man, with that rocking bod she looked like a Marvel comic super hero. I remembered kissing the shit out of her tight thighs when she was out from the roofie. How many guys eat a girl out after using a roofie? None, I bet. I'm a prince, for sure. There was just something about Donna's cunt that was irresistible. I desperately wanted to get my head between those thighs again.

  My reminisces were interrupted by a rumbling in my belly. Uh-oh.

  When I clutched at my stomach and bent over slightly, Cassie put her hand on my back and asked if I was okay.

  "Not sure," I said. My bowels were turning to jelly, like I was about to have explosive diarrhea, but I didn't have the urge to go. The jelliness just lingered there, gurgling like a soon to be active volcano—a rumbling down where my legs met, deep inside me. My breathing became labored, and my chest felt tight. "Oh, shit, maybe I'm allergic to something. Does anyone else have food poisoning?"

  "Oh, dear," Cassie said. "No. Everyone looks okay. Let's get you to your cabin." She held my arm close and I stared down at her tan legs and red Keds as we walked.

  "Cassie," I asked, "did you poison me to get some alone time?"

  "Maybe," she joked.

  "I like your style, Cassie, but your plan is flawed. I won't be able to perform."

  "We'll see," Cassie said. "I'm optimistic."

  When we got to my cabin, I flopped right down on the bed.

  "Do you need to use the bathroom?" Cassie asked.

  "I don't think so," I croaked. My chest felt so tight, I started to think we might have to call for an ambulance. And the lower part of my stomach felt like it was turning to all liquid, and roiling to a boil. Cassie kept talking to me, but I couldn't concentrate, and only caught a few words. I was curled up in the fetal position, with my arm across my chest, and my eyes barely open.

  It was getting dark outside. Cassie turned on the night table lamp. She pulled her smartphone out of her pocket and called someone.

  "It's time," Cassie said into the phone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I didn't know how long I tossed about in my fevered state, but it couldn't have been too long. When I snapped out of the fever, it was still dark outside m
y cabin window. But was it the same night? I looked over, and Brenda, Donna, and Cassie were sitting by my bedside, watching me intently. It was nice that they cared.

  Brenda still wore the same sundress, and Donna still had that beach skirt over her one-piece bathing suit. Cassie wore a loose knit sweater, but underneath it was the spaghetti strap top she'd been wearing before I got sick, plus the white shorts. Yeah, it was probably still the same night.

  "Awake?" Brenda asked. "Oh, goody. We have something to show you." Brenda flipped open a laptop and held it so I could see. She played a video. It was a mash-up of the sex videos I'd shot of me with the three of them, turn by turn. The rapid cuts between the three sessions must have been made by one of them—I never mixed the videos. In each of the scenes, Brenda, Donna, and Cassie were clearly out of it. Anyone could tell they’d been drugged.

  Shit! They knew. They knew about the roofies. They knew all about it.

  "I'm sorry," I said—not because I was sorry, but because that’s what one says. My voice came out thin and reedy, like I'd sucked on a helium balloon, only not as grating. How deep was the doo-doo I was in?

  "No you're not," Donna said, "but you will be."

  Why was my voice so light and airy? I lifted a hand to my throat. Hunh? My hand felt small, and there was something wrong with my neck. Wait! I didn't have an Adam's Apple! How could that be? I pulled my hand from my neck and stared at it. Weird. My hand looked tiny and girly, and pudgy with baby fat.

  "I don't understand," I said.

  Looking down at the bedcovers, I noticed there was a huge pillow under the sheets, over my chest. Why would they put a pillow there? Did it alleviate the tightness I was experiencing before I passed out? Not really. I felt tighter than ever there.

  Yanking down the sheets, I started to cry out, but Cassie placed her hand firmly over my mouth, muffling my shout. "Now, now," Cassie said. "No yelling."

  Two huge tits sat on my chest, as big as bowling balls. I grabbed them and bounced them around. They were totally real. Whoa! If that was the case...