“Help! The plug’s stuck in Joanna’s bum.” 

That roused a somnolent Alison from deepening her all-over tan in the relentless morning sun. Aviators cut through the pool’s wicked glare; a panicky Hannah, followed by the sheepish Joanna, had burst through the gate connecting the neighbouring houses.

Giggle suppression proved beyond her. In fact, she totally wiped out, which merited an exasperated, “This is serious, Alison!”

When it came to anal toys these two university girls were still on their L-plates, but, as they’d sought help, she empathised. 

“Remember asking about anal play, Hannah? I promised you that, as we nurses often extract things from arses, I’d have the right plugs for your virgin bottoms mail-ordered. I’m sure Joanna will be fine, sweetie. Eventually, you’ll laugh about this.”

“Not if I have to go to the hospital. Oh my God, could my parents find out?”

“Read all about it, read all about it.  A Bermuda Triangle for anal plugs exposed in the peachy derriere of the vicar's daughter.”

Joanna's smile was watery, but she giggled when Hannah, whose father was both Mayor and editor of the local rag, added a sub-headline, “Hanging Rock butt of jokes with latest Valentine’s Day disappearance.”

“Lie down,” Alison soothingly said. “Praise the Lord. I get to check out your arse and prove there’s no need for a hospital presentation.” 

Joanna got with the programme. Spinning like a whirling dervish, her floral sundress swirled up, then down, allowing the briefest glimpses of bare pussy. Then, acting coyly, she loosened the ties of her dress letting it puddle on the terrace, knowing her sculpted, tanned athlete’s body brought Michelangelo to mind for the other two.

Settling back onto the poolside recliner, Joanna oh so slowly spread her long legs. The plug’s red jewelled head glistened as the sun caught it, distracting Alison from the sumptuous sight of pretty pussy folds ungluing.

“Alison! You’re such a perv. Are you sure you’re helping Joanna?”

“Yes, she’ll be fine, sweetie. Listen and learn, you two.” 

Joanna soothingly gripped Hannah’s hand, their fingers entwining as Alison repeatedly tapped the embedded plug. “How does that feel, sweetie?”

“Stretchy-achy. Burning when you tap it. It's nice, but scary too.”

“The stretch, the burn; that’s the delicious point. But anxiety can tense muscles including arses. So, we’ll relax you and extract the plug.” 

Hannah’s other hand cupped Joanna’s breast, her fingernail tracing around and around the areola stiffening the nipple. “Phew! Fortunately, you and I know how to relax my girlfriend, Alison.” 

Firmer taps on the plug had Joanna whimpering. Alison’s fingertip teasingly massaged up Joanna’s perineum and slipped between her labia; the crusty-dampness a testament to how erotic she’d found Hannah’s Valentine’s Day gift before plug-panic overwhelmed her. 

Alison’s wiggling finger scooped a little honey and smeared Joanna’s clit with her juices. She whimpered. The other two smiled knowingly at each other.

Simultaneously their mouths lowered to Joanna’s lips. Hannah and Joanna’s tongues tangled passionately. Alison’s tongue rasped against sticky folds, the familiar tangy citrus notes of Joanna’s liquefaction exploding on her taste buds. 

As her tongue-tip circled the swelling button, Alison curled two fingers. Thrusting them deep into Joanna's vice-like wetness, she stretched velvet walls, her knuckles dragging against the plug. Joanna moaned, surrendering in the building pleasure when fingertips found, then tapped her spongy spot. 

Looking up, seeing Hannah softly biting and tugging the stiff nipple, Alison mirrored her, simultaneously sucking Joanna’s clit while scissoring fingers again and again plunged deep into the now squishy pussy. 

Joanna wrapped her fingers in blond tresses. Thrusting her hips, she ground her clit against Alison’s mouth. That upped the intensity of the tongue rasping her clit and the fingers vigorously fucking her pussy.

An orgasm crested. Joanna screamed, her body wracked in shuddering waves of pleasure. 

As she relaxed back onto the recliner, Joanna felt fingers twist the plug, popping it out of her arse and sending more ripples of achy-pleasure through her. 

Triumphantly, Alison held the plug aloft. “No hospital needed when Alison does house calls.”

Joanna’s thanks was interrupted by a simpering Hannah. “Oh, Alison, my plug’s a tad stuck.” Hannah unzipped her sundress revealing her gorgeously full curves when it slipped down her body. 

“So not what your parents had in mind when they asked me to keep an eye on you while they’re on vacation.”

“When the cats are away, the mice will play.” Hannah bent over, wiggling her arse, so the emerald plug head glistened in the sun.

“More slut than stuck, I’d say.” The stinging slap of Joanna’s palm against her girlfriend’s bum startled Alison. 

Joanna then spanked the other cheek firmly and easily twisted the plug out of Hannah’s bottom. “Stuck my arse! You’re so needy, aren’t you?” 

“And I thought I’d kept that secret.”  

Joanna and Alison roared with laughter. “Secret, says the girl with a gaping arsehole and oozing pussy. Hey, Alison, where’s your purple strappy?”

Alison smirked; it wasn’t so long ago that Joanna had been so diffident. “Well hidden upstairs.”

“Let’s go get it.” Another round of spanks resounded on Hannah’s reddening bum. “You’ll stay here, bent over and edging. So not cumming without my say-so, secret slut”

“Yes, Miss.”

As they walked in front of Hannah, Joanna’s fingers fondled Alison’s bum. They both smiled knowingly at Hannah’s whimpers. 

Upstairs Alison opened a locked box deep in her closet and took out her purple strappy.

“That’s well hidden.”

“Yeah; no need for Mitch to know. Since I’m not pegging him, a new strappy would raise all sorts of questions about me purchasing a girl-cock.”

“He knows your bi.”

“Sure. But he doesn’t realise that side of me has reawakened. I wonder if Hannah’s arse is up for being fucked?”

“Only one way to find out. And can we borrow your bigger plugs too?”

When Hannah saw the thick purple toy jutting lewdly from Alison’s folds, she drooled expectantly. And whimpered when Joanna waved the bigger plugs under her nose.

Conflict was writ large in her eyes. But it was two days till her parents were due back. And surely Alison wouldn’t risk Mitch catching her using the girl next door as a fuck-toy.

When Joanna lay on the recliner in front of Hannah, the scent of her pussy had her girlfriend licking her lips. “You just crave being used, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Moi? Perhaps a tad.”

“A tad, my arse. If you’re a good girl and beg, I might just let Alison fuck you while you eat me.”

“Yes please!”

“Please what?”

“Oh, God. Please fuck me, Miss.”

Joanna nodded at Alison who grasped Hannah’s hips and just took her. Impaling the toy deep in Hannah’s sopping sex pushed her body forward and buried her face in Joanna’s pussy. A handful of squelching thrusts soon had both the strappy and Hannah’s face sticky with girl-goo.

Hannah felt saliva dribble onto her pucker. Her world narrowed as Alison massaged the spit onto the sensitive ridges of her arsehole. Her reserve hadn’t crumpled as when a thumb stretched her anal ring open, her gaze refocused on Joanna. “Miss, my arse?”

“Your arse isn’t off-limits; you said anything, remember.”

“Yes, Miss.” 

Alison slowly pressed the sticky toy into Hannah’s arse, letting her anal ring stretch and burn as it slid over the sticky strappy. 

“Oh, fuck,” Hannah whimpered.

Once embedded, Alison slid the toy out of her tight arse and slammed it back in deep and hard, repeatedly, hips slapping against Hannah’s reddened butt. Every thrust mashed Hannah’s face further into Joanna’s folds, smothering her in her girlfriend’s pussy.

Alison's eyes locked onto Joanna’s. Every thrust was like fucking her too; Hannah’s whimpering, as Alison sent waves of achy-pleasure flowing through her, vibrated through Joanna's bucking pussy. 

As one, Joanna’s and Alison’s orgasms crested. They screamed as monster orgasms tore through them, leaving gushes of cum-honey dripping from Hannah’s mouth and arse.

“Please,” Hannah whined as the other two’s quivering aftershocks subsided.

“Only on my command, sweetheart.”

Alison slowly kept stretching Hannah’s arse. “So you’d do anything if Joanna allows you to cum.”

“Yes, like you’ve already had my arse.”

“Never go to Hanging Rock again?”

“Fuck; my thesis, Alison! Oh God; yes, if Joanna insists.”

“Alison also knows I’m not Miss Mean. So be a good girl; cum hard for Alison and me and you’ll be going to Hanging Rock.” 

Alison reached around and gently pinched Hannah’s clit. That burst the dam and Hannah came in waves of exquisite pleasure.

As Hannah gasped for breath, Joanna said, “We’re really going to Hanging Rock, Alison. Hannah’s thesis is on Joan Lindsay’s book and she wants to pay homage. A hundred years since those two girls and their teacher disappeared.” 

Hannah’s glance up at her girlfriend had Alison wondering if she’d planned this as a twosome.

“You don't need a third wheel on Valentine's Day.”

“Hey, you’re the only person we’re comfortable being open with. Definitely come. Given he’s not here, we’re taking Hannah’s dad’s restored 1970s Holden HQ.”

The old car sped across the desiccated plain; the windows wound down provided scant relief from the heat. The threesome was squashed together on the bench seat, every road bump vibrating through their plugged arses. But that delicious burn didn’t interrupt their belting out Christina Aguilera’s What a Girl Wants as they headed towards Hanging Rock shimmering in the distance. 

Getting closer, the rocky mound emerged from the surrounding eucalyptus trees like a roofline of decaying chimneys; the rocks weathered into shapes that Edgar Allan Poe would have loved.

The car park was empty, a steaming hot Monday didn’t encourage visitors. Nor kangaroos or sheep; they'd sought shade under the gum trees. The café owner was more enthusiastic, chatting to Alison as she bought sandwiches and lemonade.

Setting off up the path, the humidity closed in on them. Alison glanced at Joanna and she just shrugged, clearly determined to follow her girlfriend.

Near the summit, Hannah led them through ferns away from the main path and into a short canyon in the weathered rocks. She smirked at Alison and Joanna’s sceptical looks. “Appearances are deceiving, this isn't a dead end.”

After clambering across the higgledy-piggledy rock fall to the narrow canyon’s apex, Hannah pointed out a hidden cleft in the rocks and squeezed through. 

“Wouldn't want to be any taller,” Alison said to Joanna as they wiggled through and emerged onto a small grassy knoll on which two gnarly blue-gum trees stood sentry-like overseeing the valley and the town they’d driven from.

Hannah placed her hands on a full-moon-shaped, two-metres high, pitted rock wedged against the cliff face at the back of the knoll. “I’m sure this is where those missing girls' corsets were found.” 

“Picnicked, loosened their clothes and then what; jumped off the cliff?”

“No, Alison. Bodies were never found. They went somewhere, well three of them did and the one who I’m sure returned the way we’ve just come was bloodied with no memory of what happened.”

“Spooky.”

“Not necessarily. Horror movies have programmed us to fear the unknown. Let me show you something.” Hannah pointed to a mark carved into the rock face. “What do you think this is?”

“An eye shape turned ninety degrees,” Joanna said.

“Looks like parentheses. Aboriginal?”

“Yeah Aboriginal, Alison. Women’s business. This is what my thesis is about. Would have thought you two would recognise a vulva when you see one. There’s more on the other side of the rock.”

Joanna traced her thumb along the rock art. “I’m only familiar with your pussies. So, to be fair, I’ve only fingered vulvas that are damp to the touch.”

Hannah giggled and slipped off her sundress and bra, tossing them against the bottom of the circular rock. “It’s hot, let’s eat and sunbathe. Le Déjeuner sur l'herbe in memory of what happened here a century ago.”

As the sandwiches emerged, squawking cockatoos circled overhead, swooping down occasionally, while a pair of kookaburras sitting in the gum tree was more discreet in eyeing their food. 

From the west, the gentlest of zephyrs stirred gum leaves and ruffled feathers. The barely discernible currents awakened the aromas of eucalyptus and lemon myrtle, infusing them into the stifling humidity. The frisson of the breeze caressing their skin had the three women sighing, filling their lungs with somnolent scents. Eyelids grew heavy, fingers entwined and the threesome drifted asleep.

 The scraping noises of rock against rock jolted them awake. An unseasonal mist had enveloped them, shrouding their valley view. The eerily quietness suggested the kookaburras and cockatoos had forsaken them for greener pastures. 

Shards of light dappling their skin drew their attention to the circular boulder. It had moved, rolling over their clothes and exposing a glowing cavern in the cliff face. The stunned looks on Alison and Joanna’s faces were nothing compared to the over-excited smile on Hannah’s. 

Hannah grabbed both of Joanna’s hands. “See. I thought so. Once every hundred years, like Brigadoon. Let's go look.”    

“Wait a minute. What's there?”

“Not totally sure, sweetheart. But I’m positive this is where the girls went a century ago.”

“Everyone concluded they’d died.”

“No, no. They escaped. Trust me; remember another girl chose to return home.” 

Hannah led Joanna towards the opening, then glanced over her shoulder. “You coming too, Alison?”

Alison’s breath had caught. Her eyes focused on two perfect derrieres, curving outwards from the pinch of waists then turning inwards in tight peachy circles, stepping away from her.

Joanna reached for Alison’s hand and helped her into the rocky passage that swirled with an increasingly foggy light. 

Then, as if a new lens had snapped into place, their eyes focused. They had entered a large colonnaded atrium with smaller spaces beyond the columns. The walls were daubed in ochre, stylised images, some, like moons and vulvas, recognisable. Other figures hinted at ancient ceremonies they didn’t quite understand.

In front of them was a steaming pool of water and beyond that an enormous couch. As their eyes adjusted, a writhing mass of flesh took shape. Maybe thirty pairs of dark arms were entwined with legs, a conga line of mouths attached limpet-like to the nearest pussy.

The intoxicating aroma of female sexuality filled the cavern. Squirming, the women mashed their pussies against the nearest mouth. Their pleasure whimpers vibrated against the clit their lips were sucking. The sounds intensified, a sensual church organ reaching a crescendo. 

And, as they came as one, the symphony of Sapphic pleasure echoing off the walls, the surface of the pool was breached. An indigenous Birth of Venus; a tall woman stood, her body tattooed in ochre and red dotted patterns, water trailing down her body, dripping from breasts and pubes. “Miranda, Marion, and Greta, do greet our guests.”

Three women glided dolphin-like through the pool and stepped out, naked, next to the newcomers. “You know who we are?” the one the tall woman had called Miranda asked.

“Of course,” Hannah replied, “The two girls and their teacher, Greta, who went missing at Hanging Rock a century ago.”

“Seems like yesterday. We weren’t the first. And won’t be the last if you three stay.”

Fingertips gripped waistbands and shredded damp knickers. Shoes and socks were removed. 

“Oh, Goddess, they are bare,” Miranda said. 

“But,” Greta added, her hands having cupped Alison’s bottom, “the teacher has brought us something in her bottom.”

“I’m a nurse actually. But with these two, someone has to be the adult in the room.”

Greta smiled knowingly. “Exactly. That’s how I ended up here. No regrets.”

“Oh,” Miranda and Marion chimed, their fingers having fossicked in Hannah and Joanna’s bums, “found something in her bottom too.”

Many pairs of inquisitive eyes looked over attentively from the couch. And watched as Miranda, Marion and Greta fell to their knees, tongues wiggling through slick folds, noses bumping clits, while fingertips pressed the plugs deeper. 

Hannah gripped Joanna and Alison’s hands as the tongues curled simultaneously and thrust deep into their instantly molten sexes. The intensity of pleasure was like nothing they’d experienced before, agile tongues strumming spongy spots, noses tapping a staccato rhythm on swollen clits. 

The threesome screamed as monster cums wracked their bodies; the echoes reprising the group's earlier symphony of ecstasy. 

Miranda, her face glistening with Hannah’s orgasm, asked, “This is what you’ve been searching for, isn’t it? You should stay and enjoy forevermore.”

“Yes! So long as Joanna lets me.”

Marion licked her lips savouring Joanna’s juices. “You taste scrumptious, Miss. Here liberation trumps assimilation. There's no good reason for going back.”

“Still the same. Won’t ever leave my girl.”

“And you?” Greta said, wrapping Alison in her arms, “You have so much to teach us, starting with that thing in your bottom.” 

They both watched the four giggling younger women who, having swum to the other side of the pool, submerged themselves in the writhing bodies. Alison had never seen so much joy in Hannah and Joanna’s eyes as multiple fingers and tongues trailed over their skin and took turns focusing in their plugged arses.  

She nodded before she could second guess herself and do what the world expected of her. Greta slipped the wedding ring from Alison’s finger and tossed it into the mist behind her. As it disappeared, the chamber reverberated with the noise of the stone rolling back into the position where it will remain for another hundred years.

The old Holden was quickly found. Yet, subsequently, days of searching and investigations by Mitch, the townsfolk under the direction of the Mayor and Vicar, and then detectives from Melbourne, only yielded the detritus of a picnic, three bras, three sundresses, and then a wedding ring. 

Clues that haven’t coalesced into an explanation that helps the community in grieving for another three women who mysteriously disappeared at Hanging Rock on the first Valentine’s Day of a new century.