Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. ï>¿Becca Obeys by Ratios Part 5: Clothes come off, Becca gets hornier, dark fantasies abound. Short skirt, no panties, out in public. Surely some mental malady had come over me. Monique looked lost in thought for a moment after I removed my underwear, tapping her finger on her lips, and then dug in her bag for her wallet. Pulling a credit card from it, she passed it to Deeta and pointed at the electronic menu on the table that could be used to call the waitstaff or to pay the bill. "Take care of the check, D. I have an idea for Bex, but we might need to get out of here in a hurry if she goes along with it." This statement drew a shrug from Deeta but filled me with dread. What kind of idea would mean that we might have to flee from the restaurant? "Bex, pick up those panties again and then spin to your left so you're straddling the bench," she commanded me, silently nudging Sasha to stand up from the seat behind her. While Monique moved to the other end of the table-length bench and got out her phone camera, I picked up my underwear again and then hesitantly lifted my leg up to do as she asked. Once done, I was sitting with a leg on each side of the bench facing Monique. With my skirt tucked in, and my underwear freshly removed, there was no barrier between my naked pussy and Monique's camera lens and I shivered at the thought. "Perfect! I can see your naked butt on the seat. Spread your legs as much as you can. There you go! Now lean back against the railing and hold those panties up. Higher. Higher still. Beautiful!" Deeta finished paying at the table kiosk and then the table watched in rapt attention while I allowed myself to be put on my most lurid display yet. Directly in front of me, Monique happily snapped away for a moment before lowering her phone. "You know, we've seen tits, and we've seen vag, but we haven't seen the whole package yet. Why don't we just take care of checking that final box now." Her vague order was delivered as casually as a suggestion to move a couch a bit to the right so that it fit into the pattern of a room a bit better. Just get essentially naked outside at a restaurant that's not far from where you live. Just a minor thing, no big deal. Doing my level best not to turn my head so that I didn't have to see how the rest of the group or, God forbid, the patrons of the restaurant, might be looking at me, I revealed the last hidden bit of myself. With my shaking left hand, I pulled the tucked ends of the shawl to the side in my skirt waistband to give me slack and then let the garment fall to the side of my breasts. "Nice," I heard Deeta comment to the side, but my focus was on Monique and the constant flashes of her phone. "Smile, B. Everyone can see you're loving this. Your snatch is drooling on the bench." Attempting to force a smile on my face, I wasn't sure whether I succeeded or whether I just presented the camera with my most pleasant grimace. There really wasn't any more I could do to show enthusiasm with as much anxiety as was coursing through my veins. Then, an idea came to me on a whim and I found myself acting on it before I could stop myself, flinging my sodden panties back over my shoulder into the street behind me. Did I throw them into some unlucky passerby's face? Did they splat on some stranger's car windshield, leaving a greasy smear? Did a dozen people watch in horror as I made my blind toss? I had no idea, and not knowing scared me so much that I almost came on the spot. The idea of throwing away one of my few remaining articles of clothing while so far away from any sort of privacy made me feel like the bench beneath me was vibrating and I moaned quietly while Monique continued to document my utter foolishness. As far as my outfit for the day was concerned, my shirt, bra, panties, and two socks were now gone, with one miniaturized skirt, a borrowed shawl, and two shoes that were still at Monique's house across town remaining. It wasn't clear to me whether I was rooting to be dressed at the end of the night or to be completely laid bare before those who knew me best. It's not my place to decide, I rationalized. I am a feather at the mercy of the wind. "Gals, we gotta go," Nicky suddenly hissed. All of our eyes turned to the door of the bar where a woman who looked like a manager was standing, talking to a waitress that was pointing in our direction. In unison, we all hopped up and grabbed our stuff, moving calmly yet quickly towards the exit. In an act of mercy for which I will be eternally grateful, Monique paused a step to reach back and tug the front of my skirt free so that it fell down over my now bare pussy. Taking this as temporary permission to cover up during our escape, I pulled the shawl tight across my chest as well, looking sheepishly at the bar employees and patrons as if to apologize for forcing them to view my shameful lady parts. The patio had a one way gate leading to stairs down to the street so we filed out that way, purposefully avoiding the manager and waitress who monitored our departure with their eyes narrowed in displeasure. Once on the street, Sasha led us left, then right at the next pair of intersections before we slowed from our fast walk and paused under a streetlamp in front of a closed donut shop. Monique had lagged behind but caught up at this point. Now, separated from the potential dangers of the angry Speedway staff, we all formed a loose circle and looked around the group to gauge each other's reactions. Deeta was the first to start giggling and I, feeling slightly off my rocker, soon joined her. The rest of the group followed behind immediately after. "Becca... Baby B.... Bestie... You're frigging nutso. Did you know that?," Nicky asked, still fighting back laughter. Slapping me on the back, Deeta came to my defense. "This bad bitch has bigger balls than ninety nine percent of the men I've met." Glancing at me sideways, her eyes never made it up past my chest. The smile dropped off her face for just a second before returning twice as big, and she adding, "And MUCH nicer boobs, too." When I started laughing, I had hunched forward a bit and put my hands on my thighs to hold me up, but this meant I had also let go of the shawl. Leaned forward as I was, I realized that this meant that anyone to my sides would have an unobstructed view of my breasts hanging off my chest. Straightening up, I blushed and looked away from Deeta, but made no effort to tuck my shawl tighter into my skirt waist, stoically keeping my hands at my sides. She must have noticed as she began making a game of flicking the edge of the shawl to see if she could get it to expose me further as I did my best to protect myself solely by turning or walking away. The others laughed along with this contest, even going as far as beginning to root for Deeta or I. She followed me in circles around the other three members of the group; me glowing in embarrassment, with her batting at my shawl or the bottom of my skirt and laughing. After a few moments of Deeta not getting very far, Sasha glanced at the time and sighed. "Not to be a buzzkill, ladies, but as fun as this evening has been for us, and doubly so for Becca, I'm sure, it's getting late and we should probably get back." This drew grumbles from Nicky and Monique and a raspberry from Deeta, but the group acquiesced and started moving in the general direction of Monique's house. At this time of night, the streets were mostly quiet, and now I was mostly covered anyway, so the journey back was much less eventful than the walk to the bar. Fatigue must have truly been setting in at this point as there was little chatter between us outside of the occasional, "Hey, do you remember the look on that guy's face when Becca..." type comment, reminiscing about events that had only just occurred minutes or hours ago. Three blocks after we started walking, the wind managed to blow the left side of the shawl off my shoulder, and my left breast came completely free. Still full of adrenaline, I said nothing and made no move to re-cover myself, but it was a full half a minute before Sasha, the closest walker to me, became the first to notice. Without saying anything to the rest of the group, she gave me a small smile but kept glancing at my face and my chest as we walked. I couldn't quite interpret the look on her face as she watched me but it seemed almost... jealous? It wasn't long until Deeta noticed as well and called a halt to our walking, eying my body with a hungry look. Glancing up and down the dark side street we were on to confirm there were no other pedestrians, she approached to stand just in front of me. "Bex, if you want to go tits out, you might as well do it right," she chided with a teasing look, framing it as if I had done this on purpose. Wait, had I done this on purpose? It had just... happened, and I had not fixed it. That wasn't the same thing, right? Grabbing the shawl from around my neck, she removed it completely, taking a moment to examine my breasts up close, but just with her eyes. Without being asked to do so, my mind played a scene of Deeta leaning down to take one of my nipples into her mouth to lick and suck on, and my knees suddenly felt weak. Meanwhile, the real Deeta kept a respectful distance. Once she was satisfied with ogling my bare chest, she twisted the shawl into more of a scarf and hung it around the back of my neck again, crossing it in front of my neck, well above my boobs, and then feeding it under my arms. She then pulled each of my wrists back behind me and put one end of the shawl in each of my hands before stepping back to admire her work. The effect was simple. Nothing covered my breasts, and the way the shawl was threaded kept my arms back and my chest thrust out. This went beyond just exposure; in this position I was inviting the world to look at me. Smiling and puffed up as she was, Deeta definitely looked proud of her work. "Let's do a test. Let go of the shawl and lift your arms a bit." I did so and the shawl fell down and unfurled naturally, covering both of my breasts as it did so. "Perfect!," she exclaimed before twisting the shawl and pulling it behind my back again. "There, you can stay this way 'til we get back. You're not to let go of the ends of that shawl unless you see an angry authority figure running at you." Until we get back. We were still fifteen minutes from Monique's house; with that far to go, we were bound to pass at least a few people on the way. My head swam at the possibilities and my heart started racing again. This couldn't possibly be a good idea, could it? Fifteen minutes. It's only fifteen minutes. You can do this, I encouraged myself in my head. The idea of walking alongside a topless woman obviously didn't concern any of the other women as much as it did me, and none of them took issue with Deeta's plan. Quite the opposite, Monique even decided to pile on to my hesitation. "I wonder...," she announced cryptically, moving behind me, I felt a tug on my skirt as the back was pulled up and out repeatedly. Monique kept lifting, twisting, and tugging until the entire bottom hem of the already ridiculously short skirt had raised several inches and all of the slack in the fabric had been bundled up in the back. I felt her press the bundle into one of my hands alongside one end of the shawl and then she joined Deeta in front to appraise me. Nodding their heads and grinning like madwomen, they fistbumped and pulled out their cameras to take pictures. Gulping to swallow my anxiety, I looked down at my front for the first time since Deeta stopped the group and confirmed that what I feared to be true was my new reality. While I was technically still wearing the shawl and my skirt, they had essentially been converted into a scarf and a belt, both serving more to accentuate my nudity rather than to hide it. With my naked breasts thrust forward and my pussy presented from pubic hair to perineum, my privates were no longer private in any way. Sure, I could just let go with my hands and I would theoretically be 'fully' covered again, but I knew that wasn't going to happen unless we had an emergency. Just a few short hours previously, I had been scared stiff at the idea of accidentally flashing this small group of friends my underwear. Now, I was naked on a public street, my pussy dripping down my leg and my nipples pointing forward in steely hardness, all in horrible anticipation of the journey ahead. Fifteen minutes, I repeated in my head. Just survive the next fifteen minutes. Putting their phones away, Deeta commented, "Bex, you are sex on two legs, girl. How have you not found some boy or girl to scoop you up and treat you like the queen you are?" "Because you can't get hit on if you don't leave the house," Nicky chimed in. "I've been telling her for years, but her mom and dad have convinced her that she's a delicate flower that would get bent by the first breeze that came by if she goes outside." "I would definitely bend her over...," Deeta whispered out loud, causing me to stare at her in open mouthed shock. When she noticed, she looked shocked herself and she shoved a hand over her mouth, but then pulled it away grinning and staring at me. "Holy shit, I did not mean for other people to hear that. I guess I did think it really loudly though... I guess that's just something for you to consider," she teased, running a finger down my bare arm and giving me goosebumps. There was absolutely no chance that I would be able to somehow not consider it. Probably while touching myself in my dorm room later. What the hell was she doing to my head? Fifteen minutes. Just fifteen minutes. The thought gave me strength to continue standing. Deeta didn't push on her offer, though, instead choosing to head off down the street, waving for everyone else to follow along. "Let's keep heading back, ladies. Remember, Becca here is embarrassingly nude, so we should probably not dawdle." Looking confused, Monique called to Deeta, "Yo, D, my place is left, not straight." Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, Deeta spun without stopping walking and replied, "I know, I'm just taking the scenic route. Should only add a few minutes. Ten or twenty at most." Fifteen min- wait, what? Whimpering, I followed after, moving further and further away from safety rather than closer to it, the wet squishing sound of my thighs rubbing together as I walked ringing like bells in my ears. Putting one foot in front of the other became my sole focus in life. Keep your eyes on the ground. Don't look up. If you can't see strangers seeing every inch of you, you can't feel shame so hard it makes you want to curl up into a ball on the ground and cum until you're unconscious. The beams of a pair of powerful LED headlights from a passing car burned towards me like the rays of an angry sun and I reflexively squeezed my eyes shut to block them out. Walking in blindness for several steps had the unfortunate side effect of breaking my visual focus on the repetitive shuffling of my feet, allowing my imagination, fueled by rampant horniness, to immediately seize the wheel. Who might be driving the car that was fully illuminating my nude form in all of its glory? The dean of my university, ready to expel me? My furious parents, ready to disown me? Father Johnathan, the kindly priest who had baptized me nearly two decades prior and had preached to our congregation back home ever since, ready to excommunicate me? My hometown was only ninety minutes away, so it was not impossible that the passing car could contain the leader of my local church. Imagining the look of shock on Father Jonathan's face as he drove past me in my fantasy caused a hitch in my step and so I stopped walking temporarily. For reasons I couldn't explain, I planted my feet apart much wider than they needed to be and blindly waited for the car to approach. In my mind, my elderly town priest was behind the wheel, so enchanted by the sight of my naked body that he would surely veer off of the road and crash into a ditch in his distraction. Becca, the devil temptress, my nude body acting as my siren song, causing good men to crash upon the rocks around me. The thought caused me to go weak in the knees and I knew I had to stop myself from fantasizing further. Forcing my eyes open, I tried to disprove my fantasy by seeing who was actually driving the car, only to find that the vehicle and its industrial strength headlights had already passed me by. Those obnoxiously bright high beams had moved on to shine on some other, more preferable naked women that must be wandering around further down the road behind me. The car hadn't even paused in its journey, with the spots in my eyes being the only legacy it left behind. No angry or disappointed adults had jumped from the car to accost me. No martyrs driving the car had sacrificed themselves upon the altar of my sinful body. They hadn't even given me so much as a slow-down-and-stare. The thought came unbidden to mind: Some people are so boring. A nervous giggle escaped from my mouth at the inappropriate thought and I felt myself stand up just a little taller. Realizing I was still poised there, presenting myself to an unknown driver that was now long gone, I glanced at the grinning faces of the women around me and forced myself to resume my walk of shame, returning my focus to my feet once again. Without having to discuss it verbally, the ladies had formed a loose diamond around me, each paying attention in a different outward direction, all ready for action in case trouble should approach their vulnerable, naked friend. Had I noticed at the time, I'm sure I would have been greatly appreciative and felt much safer in my nudity, but I was a bit distracted at the time and didn't recognize their protectiveness until I thought back on the night later. A bit of distraction was perfectly understandable given my situation, I feel, so I didn't beat myself up about not giving my whole attention to outward situation awareness at the time. One foot in front of the other. Step by step. Just keep moving. Every step is a step towards being done with all of this. Whatever you do, make sure that you ignore the rhythmic squishing sound of your damp thighs pressing against each other every step. Right foot. *Squish* Left foot. *Squash* ... Holy fuck, I needed to cum again! Grimacing, and in need of a release I couldn't possibly achieve in the middle of a city street, I decided to count my steps instead. Anything to avoid thinking about where I was and what I was doing. I did pretty well for myself, too, I would say, and got as high as one hundred and eighty six before the world intervened to focus me on my exposure once again. "Nice tits! Wanna see what I'm packing?" The unexpected shout pulled me back to reality in an instant and it only took a second to find the source: an older scruffy looking guy, laughing and walking on the opposite side of the street. The presumptive shouter had his hips thrust out and he was groping the crotch of his pants in my direction. Having stopped in place to stare at him, I wondered how I was supposed to respond to his entreaty. That's when he started walking towards us, his hand still on the bulge in his pants, never taking his leering eyes off my chest. Suddenly, there were hands on my shoulders as Sasha and Deeta urged me forward, away from the aggressive guy. Nicky and Monique lagged behind to shout reprimands and curses back at him, ensuring that he didn't follow us, and their language made me blush; a hard feat considering my otherwise situation. A few seconds later, the ladies guiding me and I had rounded a corner and, twenty seconds later, the other two caught up. We continued moving quickly down the street, presumably keeping a faster pace than before to get us further away from the man, while I processed my first catcalling. "Don't worry, Bex. We'll be off the street soon. Don't let Dick-For-Brains back there kill your nudie vibe." Deeta's reassurances weren't exactly necessary. My body's reaction to the brief interaction with the man was completely unexpected... and not entirely negative. Deep down I realized that I kind of wish we had stuck around so that he could say more to me. Call out my nudity further and verbally humiliate me for it. Let me know how much of a stupid slut he thought I was. Comment on my body like it was an object for his entertainment. Cross the street, shove me down, and show me what I was worth, whether I wanted him to or not. That last thought triggered some alarm bells in my mind and I quickly shook myself out of my fantasies again. Thinking back on Nicky and I at the restaurant, I seriously wondered if my brain, or at least the sensible part of it, really was shutting down over time as more and more of my energy was funneled towards my needy pussy. In the last ten minutes I've imagined a priest getting into a car accident staring at me naked and having a scummy guy off the street force himself on me. Yeah, my brain is definitely in Stupid Horny Overdrive mode. Something had to be done, and there wasn't much I could do about it while on the street like this. Biting my lip, I decided to ask for help. The thought of doing so made my need grow even more. "Um... Ladies?" The group slowed down a bit and then Deeta pulled us off the sidewalk into the door alcove of a closed shop. Everybody looked at me expectantly and so I looked at the floor. "You alright, Becca?," Nicky asked, concerned. "Funny you should ask that," I replied nervously. "I, uh, think you might have been right earlier... You know, in the bathroom at the bar before you got me off?" When Nicky's gaze immediately flickered to the confused faces of the other women in the group, I recalled the last thing that she had said to me before leaving me alone in said bathroom. We were never supposed to talk about this again. As realization of what I had just said dawned on me, Monique started laughing, Deeta pointed and shouted, "HA," and Sasha covered her open, surprised mouth. Literally face palming, Nicky stood there shaking her head at nobody in particular. "Becca...," she chided in a tired voice. "Oh, shit. I mean, before I got myself off," I attempted to back pedal, feeling awful, but the group was not having it. Nicky and my reactions to my foolish words were too telling for me to put this particular cat back into the bag. Giggling giddily and literally bouncing up and down in place with excitement, Deeta grabbed Nicky's arm. "I didn't know you were bi! Howd'ja do it? Clit flicking? A bit of 'come here' for the ole G-spot? Did you bend her over? C'mon, spill it, sister." Pulling Deeta away from Nicky, I held my Indian friend in place to stop her exuberant wiggling and hastily tried to perform some damage control. "No, no, no! It wasn't like that. It was detached and depersonalized. Like she was an ER doctor and I was a patient suffering from, like... acute orgasm withdrawal or something. She only fingered me long enough for me to cum on her hand once because I was being dumb." "BECCA! Stop talking!," Nicky shouted in exasperation. "O M G, that's so hot!," Deeta laughed, waggling her eyebrows and adding, "You know, Nicky. I'm feeling a bit pent-up, myself, if your clinic is still open." "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. This is what I get for being a good friend." Nicky just rolled her eyes at all of us and turned around and stood there with her arms crossed. "A really good friend, you mean," Monique teased. This earned Monique an over-the-shoulder raspberry from Nicky. At this point, Sasha, having regained her composure, put a hand on my arm and, thankfully, came to my rescue. "Becca, you presumably brought up your orgasm in the bathroom at the bar for a reason. Do you want to expand on that?" Grateful for the not-really-a-change-of-subject, I sighed and made my ask. "Sooo... Uh, in the bathroom at Speedway, Nicky theorized, in a completely platonic and friendly way that was in no way lesbianish-," Nicky facepalmed again at this, "-that, uh, being really horny makes me stupid. Based on some thoughts I've had recently... and, now that I think about it, the fact that I'm walking down the street naked... I think that she might be right. Needing to, uh, get off too badly makes me an, uh, *gulp* a dumb slut." Seeing the shocked looks on everyone but Nicky's faces, I quickly added, "Dumb slut in a not-bad way! Like, maybe I wanna be a dumb slut, or something? But not too dumb. I'm not trying to attack myself..." Crap. Had that come out wrong? More specifically, had any part of it come out right? Then Deeta was hugging me tight enough to lose my grip on my skirt and shawl. The pressure of her clothed body against my naked one was enough to prevent my garments from falling back into place, however. "Oh, Bex. You poor, confused girl..." she whispered to me. Not knowing what to do with my arms, I kept them awkwardly at my sides for the first couple of seconds, and then just sort of patted her back after that. After a bit, she released me and stepped back and Monique spoke up. "Sure, you're naked on a public street, and, sure, your little kitty is drooling down your leg, and, sure, you've let us talk you out of almost all of your clothes through the night, but that doesn't mean you're stupid. Just really gullible, maybe," she laughed. "And deeply sexually repressed," Sasha contributed. "Definitely a closet exhibitionist, too," Deeta chimed in. Watching me gather the material of my skirt and shawl behind me once again without having been told to do so, pulling them away from my body and ensuring that I continued to remain on full display, she giggled again and added, "Well, maybe not that closeted any more." Realizing what she had just watched me do, I wondered to myself why exactly I had done it and blushed once again, turning away from her, mumbling, "Uh, thanks, I guess..." "And don't worry about any of us slut-shaming you," Monique continued. "Deeta's been part of the group since Day One and we barely give her any shit at all for the fact that you can always see her thongs sticking out of her skinny jeans, or the way she flashes her tongue stud at other women in class, or the way-" A playful shove from Deeta interrupted that thought. "What my entitled friend is vainly trying to shout down from the top of her oh-so-tall ivory tower is that we don't judge here." Shoving back at Deeta, Monique kept most of her attention on me. "Right, no judgment. Maybe a teeeeensy bit of teasing, but that's all." Deeta snorted at the emphasis on the word teensy but didn't comment further. Sasha was nodding along but was silent during this discussion. Nicky had turned around and was still avoiding eye contact with me, but looked a little calmer now that the conversation had shifted away from my mistaken revelation about the fact that she had diddled me. No judgment from my friends. Well, that was reassuring at least, but I realized that I had not gotten my original point across very well. A deep breath and clarification was necessary here. I couldn't believe what I was about to request, but my yearning was too great to not ask for it. "I appreciate the acceptance but, uh, that kind of wasn't my point. What I meant to say was..." Gulping, I squished my slicked thighs together and forced myself to continue. "I'm horny, I'm desperate, and I'm imagining some crazy stuff. I think I really, really need to cum. Like, real soon, before I do something really stupid." The shoving match between Monique and Deeta stopped and everyone, including Nicky, turned to look at me once again. Waving everyone back from me, Deeta stepped directly in front of me smiling and loudly stated, "I volunteer as tribute!" Everyone in the group except me began to laugh as I felt myself turning tomato colored at the statement. "NO!," I shouted, maybe a little too forcefully, as Deeta actually took a step back and stopped laughing. Quickly clarifying, I continued, "I mean, I don't need help this time. I just need a little privacy, maybe." Nodding to herself, Deeta clapped and announced, "Okay, team! New plan - it's the same as the old plan, just slightly faster. Let's go to the park!" After finishing her cryptic statement, she grabbed my hand and started walking down the street again, now at an even quicker pace. The rest of the group formed up around me again and we made several quick turns down dark streets until we hit the edge of Vanderbilt Park, the large green space that ran a several city block wide corridor between the river and the town for a couple of miles. The park would be closed now, as it was after sunset, but I could still see the paths inside were well-lit. "The plan was always to go through the park to get back to 'Nique's. I figure there's less cops and less traffic in there, so Nature Girl gets to be naked for longer, and it's less risky overall." Still pulling on my hand, she led us into the park at a fast walk, zigging and zagging down a few of the concrete walking trails, constantly glancing around as if looking for something in particular. Being naked in the park felt... different somehow. In town, my nudity was at constant risk of discovery by the general public. That knowledge of that risk made the experience far more stressful, but also made me constantly aware of my humiliating situation, and thus kept me.. well, I'll just call it drippy down below. Here in the park, hours after dark, there were probably no other people around at all, and thus the pressure of potentially being seen, at least by anyone who hadn't already been seeing me in my current state for some time now, was lessened. Wandering in the quiet amongst the plants and trees, my nakedness just felt more... natural? Tranquil, even. Like, my nudity was at home here. As if I could forget that clothes were ever an option. There were tall trees, covered in vines. Grass growing up to waist height off the sides of the path in places. The air felt damp, and earthy, and alive. We passed sweet smelling bushes covered in little white flowers. Was that honeysuckle? Or was honeysuckle just the only flowering bush name I knew? Didn't matter. It was honeysuckle in my mind and I began to feel like I was one with the forest. Breathing deep, smiling and calm for the first time in quite a while, I embraced my newfound serenity for a peaceful few minutes as we silently made our way through the park, following Deeta's hurried pace. Then, we arrived at our destination. The clearing we stopped in was back off the main concrete walkway a ways and, to get to it, we had to divert down a narrow path made only of dirt that squished between my toes and gave me slight background anxiety of how filthy I was going to be after this unhinged evening was over. The thought struck me that fearing dirt wasn't very one-with-nature of me, so I pushed the worry aside. On one side of the small, grassy space was a dilapidated wooden gazebo, covered in spray painted graffiti, with holes in its roof. On the other side, there was a curved-back wooden bench supported by two thick metal poles that stuck into the ground. The entirety of the clearing was hidden from the main path to the point that none of the light from the well spaced lamps in the park reached us. If not for the nearly full moon and clear sky, we probably wouldn't have been able to see each other, though we were all only an arm's length apart. "Tada!," announced Deeta, holding her arms out wide and spinning around. The rest of us looked around in confusion, then at each other, then finally at Deeta. "Huh?," Monique asked, mirroring the rest of our thoughts. "Bex wanted privacy, right? Well, here we go. This super hot goth chick I met at the beginning of the semester brought me here to get high and do other things-," she said this part huskily and winked at me, "-a few times and we never saw another soul. I figure it's a perfect spot for B to get that O she's chasing." Oh. Right. I had asked to be given an opportunity to masturbate. The idea of vocalizing such a naughty request to multiple other people felt so foreign to me now, though I recalled having been desperate enough to make the plea only ten scant minutes prior. Didn't everyone else in the group know I was one with nature and at peace with the world now? Or maybe I had just lost enough horniness since I escaped the view of the public and stopped thinking about my nakedness that I was thinking slightly more lucidly and taking in my surroundings better. All I knew was that, at that moment, the need was gone, I was quickly drying out down below, and I wished that I had never spoken up. Exiting my inner thoughts for a moment to take stock, I found the other four women looking at me intently. Deeta had pulled out her phone and flicked on her flashlight app, shining it on me and making me momentarily squint and hold up a hand to cover my eyes. Before I fully regained my sight, I felt my hand being taken in somebody else's. Without seeing the person, I realized that I could tell that it was Deeta's, completely by feel, and I wondered what to do with that knowledge. She pulled me forward and led me blindly through the dark, as I blinked to clear my spotty vision. When we stopped, the shawl was gently pulled from around my neck until I no longer felt any contact with it. There was then gentle, but persistent tugging on one side of my skirt until it began to slide down my legs, falling to pool on the grass at my feet. Having made the full transition from effectively nude to fully nude, I was bodily spun around and pushed backwards, leaving the skirt behind on the ground. After a couple of steps, the back of my knees hit something thin and cool, causing them to buckle, and then I found myself sitting on the wooden bench. The wood was cold, rough, and disturbingly sticky in spots. Knowing I would have a panic attack if I tried to consider what filth may have been layered on my seat over the years, and was now attaching itself upon my bare skin, I steadfastly refused to think about it. From behind the shining light of her phone, I heard Deeta say, "All right, horse: you've been led to water. Get your drink on." Squinting past Deeta's phone light, I saw Nicky, Monique, and Sasha all watching me with looks of earnest curiosity on their faces. Trying to glimpse Deeta's face, I couldn't see past the bright light, but it was then that I noticed that there was a tiny red dot next to the source of the beam that meant that the phone wasn't actually in flashlight mode; it was in video recording mode. Of course it was. Then I realized: they all thought I wanted this, and they marveled at the spectacle in front of them. In a brief flash of clarity, I saw myself as the camera, as the women around me might. A wannabe-nudist, laid back on a filthy bench in the middle of a public park, surrounded and filmed by women that she respected, and who had respected her up until a few hours ago. A crazy girl who had practically begged to be allowed to perform an extremely private, compromising action for their entertainment, and was now about to do so, on camera, just for kicks. Never mind that I had actually been asking to be given privacy, not only from the public, but from my friends as well, to perform my shameful act. Never mind that I no longer felt as I had before. Never mind the fact that I thought I might be going insane with all the conflicting fears and desires in my head. They had an expectation of me, and I was nobody if not a person who catered to the whims of others. It was the thought of giving in and masturbating for my friends, putting on the most humiliating display of my life, willingly and perhaps even enthusiastically degrading myself for their and my pleasure, that did it. I saw it in my head, knowing it would be recorded, knowing I wouldn't be able to stop myself from watching it again and again when I touched myself in the future, reliving my debasement over and over. Just like that, the need was back. I began to spread my legs. With my butt fully on the wide seat of the bench, my legs were only able to spread a foot or so apart before my knees hit the edge of the seat, but that was enough. The cool night air touching on the damp mess surrounding my pussy as my lower lips parted immediately let me know that my calm forest vibes had only distracted me from my lust at a surface level. The arousal had still been there, hiding itself away and biding its time in my pelvis. Now, presented to the world once again, I felt myself firmly within its grasp. Reaching a finger down, I traced the outline of my damp nethers, my fingers gliding upwards over the silky wetness of my thighs to follow the outer contours of my hairy labia majora. I was gooey. This was a new experience for me; in my entire life I had never been anywhere near as highly stimulated for such an extended period as I had been throughout the night, and there was physical evidence of that fact at my fingertips. Somewhere along the line, Monique and Sasha had joined Deeta with their phones out, recording my performance, and I was now bathed in LED light. Apparently, the normal, gradually building pace of my self exploration didn't provide the right level of entertainment for some of the group. Though I could only really see the sparkling of her blonde hair framing her face in the moonlight, I clearly heard Monique comment in her typical catty style, "Scared to take care of yourself, Bex? Do you need Nicky to get in there and scratch your itch for you again?" "Oh, go sit on a pine cone," came Nicky's tart reply. "Is that how you and she did it last time?" "Make that two pine cones, one for your ass and one for your mouth." Their squabbling wasn't exactly conducive to my activities, so I closed my eyes and did my best to tune them out. Oh, boy, did that work way too well. Once my eyes were closed, my imagination took over, and my roller coaster went from slow-and-steady rise to downhill plunge in just seconds. What if it wasn't just the study group ladies watching me right now? What if a bunch of my classmates had been getting high out here and had hid when they heard us coming, and now they were watching from the shadows, getting unbelievably horny from my debauchery? Would they stay content to just watch? Were they awaiting their moment to jump out of the shadows and ravish me? Make me their bitch? Steal away my virginity like they had stolen my privacy? Force me to service them all until I was used up and discarded like the trash littering the ground around me? My hand was moving faster now, but I didn't feel like I was putting on a good enough show for all the guys watching in my head. Sitting primly, legs a bit apart, mine was the position of a respectable, responsible girl touching herself in the privacy and safety of her bedroom, but that was not who I really was. Good girls didn't walk around naked, or screw themselves in front of crowds. My fantasies revealed the real me: a dumb slut who performed for the amusement of others. A dumb slut's hopes and dreams and autonomy are of no importance; a dumb slut is an object to be used for the amusement of others. My dark fantasies wanted me to show myself to the world as I really was, laid bare for their pleasure. In service of this goal, I sank down into the bench and pulled my feet up onto the seat, planting them framing my butt so that my legs formed a giant M. Now, I was as I should be, with nothing on my body hidden to anyone who might be watching. There was a steady stream of my juices drooling down from around the two fingers I was wildly thrusting into my gaping and inflamed pussy. Those juices were sliding down the crack of my ass, past my winking asshole, and adding to the stickiness of the bench beneath me. In that moment, I hoped that they left a stain that would serve as a permanent, perverse record of my shameful time here. Perhaps I could come back and affix my name and photo on a plaque below the stain so that generations hence could know who and what I was and what I had done. Thoughts of fame caused my fantasy to shift and expand. What if Deeta wasn't just filming me? What if she was streaming me on some porn site? It wasn't just a small crowd that was watching, it was thousands or millions of people around the world. Or maybe I was live on some social media site, tagged with my real account information, happily putting my wanton actions on display not just for strangers, but for everyone I had ever known or would ever know, enshrined in digital permanence, forever and ever. The dark visions in my head were spiraling and becoming more depraved, but I couldn't help but to allow myself to be pulled inexorably deeper. Somewhere along the line I started talking to my imagined viewers, my mouth spewing forth a wash of disconnected babbling that I had no control over. Apologizing to everyone I knew for letting them down and becoming a dirty slut. Begging to be seen, to be remembered for my degeneracy. Announcing that I, Becca Hall, was worthless trash that anyone could and should use me for their own devices. Speeding heedlessly towards my finish, I gave in and let the tide of my inner perversion carry me towards the edge. While repeating over and over that I was a stupid slut, I was seconds from climax when I felt a hand gently place itself over my free hand that was gripping the bench edge for stability. In an instant, my eyes opened and the fantasy retreated. Kneeling in front of me was Deeta, holding my hand in both of hers. Gone was her phone and it's blinding light so I could clearly see the look of concern on her face. The look was short lived, however; apparently some combination of my self-directed verbal abuse and or mental distance had caused her anxiety and, when she saw that I was back from whatever dangerous place to which my mind had carried me, a smile of relief spread across her face. Despite the distraction of her touch, my other hand had never slowed in its work. Looking into Deeta's hazel eyes, and seeing her smile, my orgasm finally overtook me and I squeezed her hands as I came so hard that I thought I might break. For the second time that evening, my arousal flooded out of me in fluid form, soaking the wrist and palm of my active hand. When I yanked my fingers out of myself in reflex, the arc of liquid satisfaction sprayed several inches away from my body to water the indifferent grass below before, finally, my fire spent itself completely. Luckily for her, Deeta was positioned to my left and was spared the indecency of getting painted with my juices, but I nonetheless began to feel guilty when the realization of what I had just done began to creep in. Silence reigned in the clearing for several seconds while Sasha and then Monique's phone lights shut off and darkness returned. "Wow," whispered Deeta, squeezing my hand one more time before letting go. "That was the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life!" Not sure how to respond to that, I remained silent and tried to catch my breath while simultaneously pushing down the feeling of sinfulness trying to overwhelm me. "You should totally do an OnlyFans or something. You're a fucking natural," advised Monique, but I wasn't sure if she was teasing or not. Her hand still on mine, Deeta told me, "I stopped vidding you halfway through when you started beating yourself up about everything, but, from that fountain finish, it looks like that might have been all part of the way you jill. Was it as good for you as it looked?" Embracing the truth, and still operating with minimal filter after my massive orgasm, I admitted, "Um, yeah... It was pretty phenomenal. I'm not even sure where my mind went during all of that, or what I might have said. I just kinda went with it." Smiling again, Deeta replied, "Damn! I wish I had stuck with the video then." "No worries, Lezimus Prime. We'll post ours to the forum," Monique promised, gesturing between herself and Sasha, who nodded in confirmation. "You can stroke your kitty to the recordings all night if you want." It was hard to tell in the dark, but I was pretty sure that Deeta was blushing furiously again. I felt her hand on mine, just lightly touching, and she asked in a hopeful voice, "Becca... You're okay with that, right? Like, being out here and having fun being all naked and free is one thing, but I don't want to perve on you behind your back..." Another woman was asking my permission to pleasure herself to a video that had just been taken of me pleasuring myself. Even with my eyes open, my mind flashed back to my frightening new fantasies of being used and objectified and my pussy quivered. Without bothering to consult my brain in the process, my mouth replied in a hoarse voice, "Please, do whatever you want with the videos. The pictures too. All of it." Meeting her eyes again, I repeated, "Whatever you want." This may have been too much for her as she stood and turned away from everybody, taking a loud, deep breath before announcing, "It's time to get back ladies and gentlewomen." Approaching me again, she held out a hand to help me up off the bench. I reached out to accept her aid but then realized that I had extended the hand that I had just done my business with, so I awkwardly switched to offer my other hand instead. My legs were stiff from being held up and back for so long, but I was able to get them under me and stand. As soon as my feet hit the ground, however, I realized I was standing up onto the grass immediately in front of the bench that was covered in my squirt. A day ago, even a whisper of such a thing being a possibility would have sent me cringing into the next universe. Today, though? Without letting on what I was doing, I surreptitiously shuffled my feet under the guise of getting my circulation back, taking secret pleasure in squeezing my expelled lady cum between my toes and coating my dirty soles in it. Caught up in the moment, I turned away from everyone and took the hand I had touched myself with, still drenched in my juices, and began to rub it on my bare stomach, smearing my arousal over my belly and then chest. My breasts and nipples were next but, while rubbing them, I heard a quiet voice just behind me that made me jump. "Make sure you get your face too." Looking fearfully over my shoulder, I saw Deeta just behind me, looking at me with an expression of unbridled lust. The others of the group were already on the path and moving away, but I think that Deeta had intentionally positioned herself between me and them in case one of them happened to look back. It was just us in the clearing now. After a moment of stillness, my newly re-horny mind made several quick decisions in a row, following them up with quick action before I could stop to consider the foolishness of my actions. First, I turned to face Deeta completely, planting my feet much further apart than was necessary and keeping my free hand to my side. Next, the hand covered in my ejaculate began to creep upwards from my chest, and soon I was spreading my arousal juices over my cheeks. My nose and eyebrows I wiped with the sides of my fingers and then, driven by the desire I saw from Deeta, a whim led me to run my hand several times through my messy, tangled hair, making sure to deposit every last bit of my cum anywhere that it shouldn't belong. When I was done, I stood with my hands hung at my sides and let Deeta take in the sight of me. I couldn't tell you why I did, or at least I didn't have a reason that I was willing to admit to myself at the time, but I presented myself nonetheless. Taking advantage of my silent offer, she approached close enough that her chest almost touched mine and I could smell just a hint of some sort of fruity body wash or perfume. Covered in musk as I was, I was sure that she couldn't help but to smell me as well, but she removed all doubt completely by taking a long, deep inhale from in front of my breasts up to my forehead. "Good girl," she whispered, causing me to quiver. Her head tilted forward incrementally and I was positive that she was preparing to kiss me when Nicky called out from the trail, "You two coming?," and the moment was shattered. Stepping back, she almost stumbled over something and bent down to pick up my discarded skirt. Tossing it back to me, she whispered, "What is it that you like to call yourself? Dirty slut? I can't imagine why," and gave me a teasing wink. Chuckling to herself, she turned and walked off down the path. I was left to wonder what the hell I was doing with my life... and why I really really wanted to keep doing it.