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 ï>¿Becca Obeys by Ratios

   Part 6:

   Recognition, acceptance, and self reflection.

   With a million conflicting thoughts racing through my mind, I bent down
to scoop up the shawl from where it had been discarded on the ground, but
found that it had not escaped the spray of my earlier orgasm.  It wasn't
super wet, but it wasn't completely dry either.  Ignoring that problem for
now, I bundled both my previous articles of clothing together under my
right arm and hustled off down the path after my friends.

   In the end, I ended up following the rest of the group a few paces back
as they had an animated conversation that didn't include me, but was
definitely about me.  The tranquility I had begun to feel earlier never had
a chance to return as snippets of conversation from the women I was
following would constantly drift back just as I was beginning to get my
mind off the enormity of what I had just done in the clearing.

   "...never squirted in my life..."

   "...what she was saying?  She's totally into this..."

   "...somebody so spineless she's got major guts...

   "...far she's willing to go..."

   "...if she'll stay naked..."

   Meanwhile, the conversation in my head was more to the tune of: How am I
still alive after all of this?  How many people have seen my pussy tonight?
When did I become so comfortable using the word 'pussy'?  How can I talk to
my parents again knowing what I've done?  How can I ever look any of my
friends in the face again after what I've shown them of myself? 
AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!

   All of this confused inner anxiety was built on top of a brand-new fear
of what I might end up doing or agreeing to when I got to the right level
of horniness.  After a lifetime of having little to no agency, autonomy, or
sexuality to speak of, my body and mind were taking to the events of this
evening like a starving woman being presented with a buffet.  I remember
hearing about an experiment in psychology class where a lab rat, under the
right circumstances, would choose addictive drugs over food to such an
extreme extent that the mouse would eventually starve to death.

   Was I one of those mice?  Would I happily drive myself to ruin in
pursuit of a more intense sexual high?  The thought was terrifying, but a
part of me wanted nothing more and I didn't know how to guard myself
against it.  As I had my entire life, when I encountered this major problem
requiring some sort of willpower or decision making to resolve, I did my
best to not think about it instead.

   After walking through the quiet forested area for another ten or so
minutes, it came time to exit the park and get back on public roads for the
last push back towards Monique's house.  When we hit the edge of the green
space, the rest of the group paused and waited for me to catch up and all
looked at me questioningly.

   My immediate thought was: Great, they want me to walk in front now that
we're back in public so that I'm more visible.

   Sighing inwardly, I lowered my head and obeyed the assumed command. 
Stepping past them, my bare feet hit cold asphalt for the first time in a
while, and I shivered a bit as I headed off down the street.  Not one
hundred percent sure of the way I should be going, but knowing the general
direction, I just kept walking forward and figured that they would steer me
if I made a wrong turn.  Behind me, Nicky spoke to the rest of the group.

   "Wow, she really does want to do this without putting her clothes back
on."

   Monique replied, "Told you she wants to be seen by everyone.  The dumb
slut can't get enough."

   "She gets way better grades than you, Snow White," Deeta chimed in,
coming to my defense.  "I think she's a rather smart slut."

   "Maybe when she's in class, D, but the minute her clothes start to come
off, her brain leaks out in big gloopy drops from her va-jay-jay."

   It was while the group went on to discuss how much they thought I loved
being naked in public, and how my cognitive ability tracked inversely with
my arousal state that I realized that the pause before we left the park had
not meant what I thought it had meant.  They hadn't been waiting for me to
go first, they had been waiting for me to put my clothes back on before we
went back out into the city streets.  When I just walked on in the nude,
they all figured that that meant that I was totally into this and loving
every second of my nudity.  They had no idea that the stress of this
ongoing situation had me teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown.

   Now that we were in the street, and there was an expectation for me to
want to remain naked, I assumed it was too late to go back and change my
mind.  Telling myself I had no choice in the matter, I clenched my fists in
determination and forced myself to continue putting one bare foot in front
of the other.  Covered or not, ashamed or otherwise, I had to get back to
Monique's to end this evening, and I just prayed that we were getting
close.

   Occupied with forcing my feet to keep moving, I didn't even notice the
two guys and a girl walking towards us until they were twenty feet away. 
One of the guys was wearing a hoodie with the MU logo on it and they all
appeared to be about my age, so they were all likely students at the uni,
possibly even my classmates.  When I noticed them, I stopped in my tracks,
feeling like prey staring down an approaching predator, frozen in fear. 
They were whispering among themselves as they came closer, but paused their
conversation as they came to stop a few paces in front of me.  Behind me, I
felt the presence of my friends, but couldn't bring myself to look back at
them or move behind them for safety.

   "We have a bet going," the woman said, breaking the impromptu standoff.
"I say, five women, one naked: obvious sorority hazing.  Ollie here thinks
you lost a bet because you look like you're on your way home from
something. Andy thinks you're just some sort of pervert cause it looks like
you're leading the group.  Who's right?"

   "Um...," I replied, trying to think of a way to logically explain my
state that didn't make me look like a sex offender.

   Shit, I thought to myself, feeling more pressure from the ensuing
silence by the second.

   Standing there, with three pairs of eyes staring expectantly at my nude
self, I struggled to remember how words worked.  Luckily, Sasha jumped in
to my rescue.

   "This is my cousin, Jenny, from California.  She talked a lot of shit
and made some pretty outrageous bets at the bar but her foosball skills
left a lot to be desired, so now she has to walk back to our place in the
buff.  Say 'Hi' to the nice people, Jenny!"

   It took me a second to realize that Sasha had just improvised up a fake
identity for me for cover.  This let me breathe slightly easier, but I was
still interacting naked with a stranger, so I was still in emergency panic
mode.  Just as soon as I figured out how my muscles worked, I gave a feeble
wave to the group.

   The three strangers all laughed and the left guy, apparently Ollie,
tapped the woman on the shoulder and made a 'gimmie' gesture.  She pulled a
combination phone case and wallet out of what had to have been her bra and
handed the guy a twenty out of it before looking me up and down.

   "Jenny, huh?," the girl asked, smirking for some reason.  Holding her
phone up by the corner with her thumb and forefinger, she commented, "Well,
Jenny, you just lost me twenty bucks.  I think the least you could do would
be to join me in a selfie for my trouble.  Cool?"

   Not another picture, I thought to myself.  Hoping to get bailed out by
my friends, I looked back at them to see if any were going to object on my
behalf, knowing that I was unlikely to be able to on my own.  Sasha swooped
in once again.

   "Jenny would love to take selfies with all of you!  Wouldn't you,
Jenny?"

   My shoulders slumped at that declaration; not just one selfie, but at
least three, with three different strangers, probably on three strange
phones.  Despite my reluctance, I did my best to put a smile on my face
that didn't look too much like a grimace and gave the strange girl a
lukewarm thumbs up.  Smiling wide, she stepped forward to stand next to me
but Sasha held a hand up to stop her.

   "Just one tiny condition.  For all we know, you all are going to pass
these pictures around to everyone you know and post them on a bunch of
amateur porn sites.  I'm sure my cousin doesn't want to be quite that
recognizable, so we'll have her wear this."

   What the heck?!?!  Had Sasha just given this girl implied permission to
post my picture on porn sites?  My knees started feeling like jelly and I
felt a surge of warmth and wetness in my pussy.  Spinning to face her, I
saw that Sasha had a cloth face mask in her hand, probably left over in her
purse from during the pandemic.  There was a shit-eating grin on her face
as she handed the mask over to me and took the skirt and shawl from me to
hold while I posed.

   The mask was little more than a couple of thick rectangles of white
cloth with a filter layer between them, all folded up accordion-like with a
couple of loops of elastic punched into each end.  Reluctantly, I looped
the elastic over both of my ears, but the collapsed cloth just bundled up
under my nose.  The mask was either poorly homemade or super cheap and I
had to wrestle with it to get it to expand enough to actually cover my face
from just below my eyes to my chin.

   "There, now the parts that matter are all covered," Sasha concluded,
stepping back and whispering with the other giggling members of the group.

   "Awesome!  Looking quite stylish," the girl teased.  "I'm Kira, by the
way," she said as she draped an arm around my shoulders.  She leaned her
head in next to mine but immediately recoiled back, giving me a look that
sat somewhere between amazed and disgusted.  "You dirty girl...  What have
you been rolling in?  You smell like one of Ollie's used jock straps!"

   She was laughing when she pulled herself back next to me.  Holding her
phone at arm's length by a stuck-on pop grip, Kira told me, "Say cheese,
Dirty Girl!"

   With the mask on, the camera wouldn't know if I was smiling or not, but
I did my best to smile anyway, because that's what you do in selfies.  I
felt the mask begin to collapse a bit when my face moved, and I think it
popped up from below my chin, but I ignored it as I was still being held by
Kira.  Flicking around with her thumb, Kira reviewed the photo, which
looked fine to me, and announced, "Bad angle," before extending her arm
again.

   "Let's try this," she said, and then started to lower herself down,
dragging me with her.  Unsure what we were doing, I allowed myself to be
pulled into a squat position with her and then noticed her grinning wide on
the phone screen.

   "Perfect!"

   She took several photos, the constant strobing of her front-facing flash
making spots appear in my eyes as moved the phone around at different
angles.  After ten or so shots, she took her arm off me and stood up to
flick through her new pictures.

   "There's our winner," she announced proudly, showing me the chosen photo
on her screen.  This was a lower angle shot with my masked face next to her
sticking her tongue out and acting goofy.  The main focus of the picture
wasn't either of our heads, however: it was the fact that, squatting as we
were for the photo, my legs had naturally come wide apart and my glistening
labia were just slightly parted and well centered in the shot.  There
wasn't time for me to panic over the overtly pornographic image, however,
as one of the guys -was his name Andy?- came up and said, "My turn!"

   Not waiting for a response from me, he spun me ninety degrees and
positioned me leaning against his side.  Since he was quite a bit taller
than me, I essentially had my face in his armpit at this point.

   It seemed like he was taking way longer to set things up than he needed
to, but I think it was because he was enjoying the feeling of a naked co-ed
pressed up against him.

   Eventually he told me, "Put your head on my arm and lift one of your
feet up while standing on tiptoes on the other, like one of those
cheesecake pinups from World War II."

   I had no idea what he was talking about with the cheesecakes, but, after
a few attempts, I got my right leg positioned, bent at the knee and foot
pointed back, like he wanted and was straining to stand on pointed toes on
the other.  Once he was satisfied with how my bottom half was arranged, he
had me lay my head on his bicep and look up at him longingly.  Moving my
head around so much had caused the mask to fold back on itself again even
further and I felt it slip under the tip of my nose, but he had me gripping
his arm so I had to ignore it again.

   Just before Andy was ready to take the picture, Kira commented, "Look at
those filthy feet.  You really must not have very much respect for
yourself, Dirty Girl!"

   Pressing my face into Andy's arm to hide my blush was futile as I was
sure it was spreading to my exposed chest at this point, but I did it
anyway.  When the mask started slipping a little more, I regretted my
actions, but Andy called for me to look back at him and a bright flash
indicated that the picture had been taken.  The capture on the screen
didn't look nearly as bad for me as Kira's had been, though my right breast
was pressed out lewdly and it looked like I was fawning over someone I had
never met before.

   Andy didn't ask for any extra shots, thank goodness, and Ollie came over
and pulled me off of him.  He was only a few inches taller than me, and the
only words he said to me were, "Stand here."

   He stood right behind me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder and
chest, resting his hand right on top of my breasts.  My entire body went
stiff when his hand made contact with my boobs, but I wasn't sure if this
was an expected part of the selfie or not, so I said nothing.  Holding the
camera out, he gave me no warning that he was going to take a picture until
his hand slid down my right breast and he gave the nipple there a firm
squeeze and twist.  This nearly caused me to jump out of my skin and the
flash went off just as I reacted.  Opening my mouth into a silent O of
shock caused the mask to slip even further, coming fully off my nose and
sidling up my chin at this point, but I had other things to worry about.

   Seemingly oblivious to my inner turmoil, Kira giggled and spoke to the
guy that had just grouped me.  "You're such a dick, Ol," she teased, adding
seductively, "You better do that to me later, too."

   She pulled Ollie's arm from around me and grabbed him with both hands to
kiss him, leaving me standing there feeling shocked, violated, and insanely
horny.  There went my first touch by a boy; a nipple tweak for the sake of
a naked selfie.  How many other firsts had flown by without notice in this
chaotic mess of an evening?

   "Having fun, Jen," Sasha asked cautiously.  I'm not sure how much my
group of friends saw of Ollie's liberties, but Sasha's voice made me
suspect that she had at least an idea of what had transpired.

   Despite a mild feeling of trauma, and a major feeling of sticky wetness
down below, I figured my obligation to Kira was now over and we would all
be moving on so, so I sucked it up and replied, "Yeah, lots!," trying to
sound as cheerful as possible.  The fire in my pussy was burning brightly
once again and I wished we were back in the clearing so I could put on an
encore show there.

   "You really like this kind of thing, Dirty Girl?," Kira asked, looking
at me curiously.  An idea seemed to dawn on her and she bit her lip for a
moment before acting super nice once again.  "Say, would you be willing to
do a group photo for us?  Last picture, I swear, but I think you'll
seriously love it."

   Doubting that I would love anything other than leaving these people far
behind and going home, I nonetheless relented and gave a single small nod
of acceptance.

   "Great!  One second."

   She went over and pulled Ollie and Andy into a huddle and there was some
whispering back and forth.  Andy laughed out loud and Ollie got a big grin
on his face and they carried on in private for another few seconds before
the guys came over to stand beside me and Kira went to hand her phone to
Sasha.  The three new people and I were now all facing the study group
ladies, with Sasha holding Kira's phone and Deeta and Monique with their
own phones out, I guess to further document my humiliation.

   Moving to stand behind me, Kira whispered in my ear, "Since you liked
the nipple thing, I'm assuming you're okay with some light touching?"

   Alarm bells went off in my head but, in my confused and horny state, I
found myself replying without really knowing what she was asking, "Um, I
guess?"

   "Great," she replied.  "Boys?"

   Then I was unexpectedly airborne.  Andy and Ollie had each taken hold of
one of my legs and picked me up, drawing a surprised, "ooooOOOOHHH!," sound
from my lungs.  Once I was lifted, they each shifted their grips to have
one hand under my butt and one hand holding an ankle and I found my legs
were now as widely spread open as they could physically go.  The hands
underneath me were tantalizingly close to touching my pussy and butt crack,
and my weight on their fingers was prying my pussy lips apart, but there
was nothing I could do about it as I had no choice but to throw my arms
around their shoulders to keep from pitching over backwards.  Behind me, I
felt Kira's breasts push through her bra and blouse into my naked back and
worried what she was doing there so close.

   "Might take just a second to get ready for the picture, but feel free to
take a few warmup shots while I get Dirty Girl ready," Kira called over to
Sasha.

   One of Kira's hands came around and started massaging my right breast
gently, kneading it like dough, before slipping down to pinch and tweak my
nipple.  The logical part of me knew that things had gone way too far, way
too fast, and that I should be screaming about sexual assault, but I was
way too horny to care about silly little things like consent at this point.

   Apparently sharing my more logical concerns, Nicky called over, "Yo, you
good, B...  Jenny?"

   There wasn't time to formulate an appropriate answer to this, however,
as Kira's other hand chose that moment to reach around to my crotch.  With
as wet and stretched as I was at the time, her middle finger was able to
slide into me up to the second knuckle with almost no resistance, drawing a
reflexive hissed, "Yessssssssss," from my throat.

   The finger inside of me began to pump in and out and my head fell back
in pleasure, letting out a throaty, "AAAAAAAHHNN," sound.  This head
movement finally caused the mask on my face to finish collapsing on itself,
reverting back into a narrow bundle of cloth that slipped into my widely
opened mouth like a horse's bit.  The gagging feeling this caused only
heightened my experience of losing control, causing a surge of arousal when
I imagined myself as a chained animal suffering abuse.

   Gone were all concerns of bodily autonomy or how to say 'No', those
reasonable things having been washed away in a new flood of wetness oozing
around Kira's fingers.  In their place was left a shell of a woman obsessed
with her approaching orgasm: Dumb Slut Becca, moaning and squirming like a
bitch in heat at a stranger's touch, my body begging to be used.

   "Dirty Girl is really bucking on my fingers.  She's a wild one." Kira
announced.  "I don't think she's going to last much longer.  Try to take
the picture when she pops off.  You might need to just take a bunch to get
it right."

   "Woo!  Get it, Dirty Girl!," Deeta yelled in encouragement as I raced
towards my second public orgasm of the evening.  Two video flashlights and
one rapidly firing camera flash were now blinding my vision and my eyes
were tightly shut.

   Whispering directly in my ear, Kira commanded, "Look at the camera,
Rebecca.  Smile while you cum like a slut for me."

   Opening my eyes but squinting, I did my best to look at the array of
phones pointed my way and plastered a fake looking smile on my face,
despite the mask's interference.  Had I been thinking, I would have
wondered why smiling was relevant at all, given the mask but, then again,
had I been thinking, a lot would have been different about my situation.  A
voice in the back of my head was screaming that I had missed something
critically important, but it was drowned out by the rushing wave of my
coming climax.

   A few more seconds of thrusting was all it took and I began to tremble
and shake in the arms of the guys.  I'm not sure whether it was
dehydration, or whether my body was just cummed out at that point, but I
only dribbled a bit of wetness this time despite the enormity of my orgasm.
Nearly blacking out, my body went limp and found myself leaning back onto
Kira for support as she slowed and then finally stopped fingering my
spasming hole.

   "Good slut," she cooed into my ear, gently stroking the side of my face
with her cum covered hand before pulling the mask off and inserting the two
fingers she had been using to fuck me into my mouth.  Cringing at the taste
of my own juices, I lacked the energy to pull away, and so I just sucked
her fingers clean as that seemed like what she wanted me to do.

   Waiting until after I had finished cleaning Kira's hand, Andy and Ollie
then carried me to the side of the sidewalk and lowered me to the ground to
lean against a concrete pylon used to block cars from going down a small
alleyway.

   Deeta was by my side immediately brushing my hair out of my face,
asking, "Are you okay, B?  It looked like that lady wrung you out.  I can
punch her if you need me to, just say the word."

   Not wanting to talk or think about what had just happened, I replied
with something that would end the conversation quickly between heavy
breaths.

   "I'm fine.  That was awesome.  No punching.  Thank you," and then waved
her away while I drug myself up the pylon to stand.

   The three newcomers were all gathered around Kira's phone, swiping
through photos and pointing and laughing a lot.  My ladies gathered to do
the same and, soon, I was the only one not reviewing my latest shameful
modeling session with amusement.  All I could do was lean on my support
pillar and wheeze.

   Kira eventually came over to where I was standing and lifted my chin so
that I was looking at her.  "I hope that you enjoyed riding my fingers,
Dirty Girl.  Ollie and I are going to fantasize about tonight while we fuck
forever.  All those pictures we took will help us remember you."

   It wasn't clear whether she was laughing at me, or at the idea of
screwing her boyfriend while he thought about me, or at having a shameful
record of my debasement, but she was laughing nonetheless.  Without asking,
she came in for a hug and patted me on the back.  After giving me a final
squeeze, she whispered in my ear, "See you in Mrs.  Arma's class on
Tuesday."

   Three quiet seconds passed before my brain got it, then my heart stopped
beating, my lungs stopped breathing, and I'm amazed my feet allowed me to
remain standing as I processed what she had said.

   Mrs.  Arma was my Sociology professor.

   Sociology was a class that I had on Tuesdays.

   This girl, Kira, must be in my sociology class.

   Then finally hit me that she had called me Rebecca right before she told
me to cum.

   Knowing my name meant she not only had a class with me, but that she
also knew who I was...  And now she had a bunch of pictures of me
committing vulgar sex acts on a city street.

   Standing frozen in place, I stared at Kira's back as she, Ollie, and
Andy all walked off down the street, laughing and joking about the dumb
slut they had just gotten to play with.

   "Oh wow." Monique declared behind me, interrupting my most recent
anxiety attack.  "Bex, when you squished the mask down on your face like
that, it turned into just a tiny white line that barely hid anything.  You
can totally see your whole face in some of these pictures."

   Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

   The trio that had driven my latest humiliating episode was moseying off
without a care in the world, carrying with them the potential agent of my
destruction, and I was just standing there like an idiot, watching them go.
None of the other women in the study group were in my Sociology class, so
none of them knew that Kira knew me, and Kira didn't appear to know any of
them.  Only I was aware of the magnitude of what had just happened.

   Some small, rational part of my mind was yelling and shouting and
banging on the walls of my brain, urging me in the strongest possible terms
to go chase after Kira and confront her, or sic Deeta on them to do her
previously offered punching; anything to get her to delete the compromising
pictures she had.  A larger part of me was thoroughly enjoying this new
feeling of free fall, without knowing when or if there would be a sudden,
terrible stop at the end.  You can guess which part won out.

   At some point, the rest of my group eventually formed up and began
walking home with me trailing behind them like a lost puppy.  Time must
have passed.  Distance too.  Maybe even some people or cars.  None of it
registered.

   I was off in La-La Land, thinking about nudity, and sex, and control,
and freedom.  For the entire journey back, there was a creeping wall of
fear in the distance that felt like, at any moment, if I really focused on
it and acknowledged its presence, it would sweep in and smother me
completely.  This made me feel alive and aroused and afraid, all at the
same time.

   Before I knew it, we were walking down Monique's street, which meant
that my ordeal was finally coming to an end.  The rest of the group went up
to Monique's door, waiting to be let in, but Monique pulled me aside in the
middle of her small front yard.  Watching my reaction, she reached into her
purse and pulled out a small wad of cloth, which I regarded with a confused
expression.  Letting the ball fall open, I realized that she was holding
the pair of unicorn panties that I had taken off and thrown into the street
at the bar a lifetime ago.

   "I snagged these from a bush while we beat our hasty escape from
Speedway," she explained.

   "Whu...  Why?"

   "Well, you already gave me your socks, your shirt, and your bra.  By
picking up your panties after you threw them away, I'm one article away
from collecting the whole Becca set.  If you give me your skirt, you will
have permanently given away or discarded every piece of clothing that you
came here with today and will have nothing left to cover yourself with
until you get back home.  I'm not going to order you to give it to me
though.  If you want to hand it over of your own free will, that's entirely
on you, because you want to make sure that you can't cover up any more."

   Pausing for effect, she looked at me with a teasing smile and asked,
"So...  Bex...  Do you have anything you want to give me?"

   Looking down at the bundle of cloth wedged under my right arm, I
wondered what sort of insanity would ever cause me to give away my last
piece of clothing after such a whirlwind night.  Because I only lived a
couple of miles away, I had walked to Monique's for the study session this
evening.  Giving away my skirt would leave me, at minimum, bottomless on my
journey back home.  A journey that would take me across my college campus,
to a dorm room building that was busy at almost all hours.

   Every damning action I had taken up until this point, I had explained
away in my head as obeying someone else's orders.  No blame could be put on
my shoulders if I was just doing what I was told, and so I could argue my
complete innocence for all my shameful acts throughout the evening.

   This was different though.  If I gave my last piece of clothing away to
Monique now of my own volition, it would completely blow away that cover.
Nobody was forcing me to do this, so any foolish action I took here was
pure Rebecca.

   With a shaky arm, I offered both the skirt and shawl to Monique, keeping
my gaze downward and refusing to make eye contact.  I would have bet every
penny I had that there was a smug grin on her face, and that knowledge made
me horny as hell.  Once she had taken the bundle, I went over to stand with
the rest of the group, wondering just how much they had observed of Monique
and my interaction.

   After Monique came over and began fishing for her keys, Nicky grabbed
the tip of the shawl hanging out of Monique's purse and yanked it out
fully.

   "You can scam Becca out of her clothes all you want, but this is mine,"
she reminded Monique.

   When she pulled the shawl out of the bag, my panties got stuck and came
along for the ride, ending up falling to the ground in the middle of our
gathered group on Monique's porch with everyone staring down at them.

   "Whoops," declared Monique, turning to look at me.  "Might not be the
last time your panties are sitting on my porch, huh Bex?  What if we made
it a rule that you're not allowed to wear clothes for study sessions any
more?  You'd have to strip naked on my porch every time we meet up and
leave your clothes out here.  If you play nice with us during those
evenings, I might even let you have some of them back after, HA!  Would you
like that?"

   My face grew paler with every word she spoke.  From the tone of her
voice it sounded like she was just teasing me, expecting an obvious
outright refusal that the group could laugh at before moving on.  After
all, what kind of crazy person would say yes to this kind of humiliating
offer?

   Unfortunately, I had already answered that sort of question a dozen
times throughout the evening, and the answer had always been the same. 
Amazing everyone in the group, including myself, I looked at the ground and
whispered, "Okay," picking up my dropped underwear and holding my arm out
to hand them back to Monique.

   That response stumped her for a moment.  "What?"

   Louder, I repeated, "Okay."

   "Okay what?," she asked, looking legitimately confused while taking the
panties from my hand.

   "I'll strip on your porch and stay naked in your house on study group
nights.  You all can tell me what to do during those times."

   "Wow, really?," Monique exclaimed.  "Holy shit!  You really are loving
this, aren't you?"

   Jumping in to hug me, Deeta looked like a kid that had been given a new
toy.  "This is gonna be awesome.  I'm going to start making a list of
things to make you do while you're nakey'."

   "Post your list in the forum," Sasha advised, "We can all add to it. 
Maybe have a list of regular tasks, and then some really embarrassing
things that we use as punishments...  or rewards.  I guess it will depend
on what we learn about her reactions."

   Yikes, they had all jumped on board with this plan way faster than I
would have imagined.  Nicky was the last to contribute, and I expected at
least some level of hesitance or protectiveness from her but, apparently, I
had done too good of a job of discouraging that sort of behavior from her
through the evening as her only comment was, "We should probably extend the
length of study nights by an hour or two.  Give us time to properly dish
out some humiliation without sacrificing our grades."

   Their conversation on how to best take advantage of my acceptance raged
on around me as I wondered what the hell I had just signed myself up for.
My mind started showing me a wealth of possible, terrible situations I
might end up in at their helpful hands, Alive, aroused, and afraid...  Add
naked to the list and I might just have a new default state.

   "Hey, space cadet!," Nicky said, snapping a finger in front of my face
and interrupting some lingering fantasy that I hadn't even realized I had
lost myself in.  "Stop tweaking your nipples on the porch and get inside."

   Looking around, my hands were on my breasts and everyone else had moved
inside but me.  Who had I become?

   Keeping my eyes down and blushing, I pushed past Nicky into the house.
Everyone else was busy gathering their stuff in preparation for going home
but Monique stopped me at the edge of the tiled front hall and gave me the
once over.

   "Sorry, doggie, but no dirty paws on the carpet," she giggled, giving me
a condescending pat on the head.  "Be a good girl and stay here and we'll
bring you your stuff." She turned and walked away but spun back to face me
long enough to add, "And no touching yourself in my house...  At least, not
unless we tell you to and put down a towel first.  I don't need your slut
juices on all my nice things."

   Everyone else laughed outright at this.  The surge of shame I felt at
her chastising was just another wave in the ocean I had been drowning in
for the last several hours.

   While I stood there, shuffling my feet and trying not to worry about
little things like public exposure or being so horny your brain turns off,
my friends were standing around talking about potential ideas they had for
my future degradation.  Occasionally, someone would put a book in a bag, or
close a notebook.

   "I wonder how much homework Becca could get done with one of those
egg-shaped vibes up inside of her?"

   "Oooh, good idea.  And if she doesn't finish her work before the battery
runs out, she has to recharge it and wear it to class the next day!"

   "I bet we could get Professor Mayfield involved in something.  She
teaches Biology, right?  Think she needs a live model for female anatomy or
something?"

   "Pretty sure that sort of thing only happens in porn."

   "Then we can film it!  Problem solved, HA."

   "We could have Bex write a blog on her TellMeToStrip page about what
she's been doing."

   "Better yet, a VLOG!"

   Holy hell!  I had to disconnect my brain from this discussion before I
got so hot that I melted onto the tile!  To take my mind off of the
exquisitely erotic tortures that my friends were planning for me, I turned
away from the group and looked around the small front hallway.  A mirror
half my height hung in the middle of a number of other picture frames and I
idly looked into it, but had to do a double take when I saw what looked
back at me, because I didn't recognize myself in my own reflection.

   When I say I didn't recognize myself, I'm not being metaphorical, as in,
I had grown emotionally into a different woman than I was before, though
that may have also been true.  I mean, I literally couldn't recognize my
physical being without concerted effort.

   The Rebecca Alice Hall that had lived in my body for the last nineteen
and a half years was eternally prim, proper, and pristine.  Never a hair
out of place nor a toe out of line, never showed more skin than she
absolutely had to, never wore makeup, rarely more jewelry than a pair of
tiny pearl ear studs.  She showered at the whisper of dirt or mud, and
carried a laundry detergent stick in her purse to work potential impurities
out of her clothing.

   The creature in the mirror looked like she had been born in the jungle
and had never left.  Naked, covered in dirt and dust, grime and grass
stains.  Hair in wild disarray; matted together in some spots, a knotted
tangle in others, with sticks and leaves and grass scattered throughout. 
There were bruises and tiny cuts I couldn't remember getting, probably from
all my rolling around and walking through thickets.  The face staring back
at me looked haggard and worn, as if it hadn't slept in weeks, and was
streaked with dirt that had probably stuck to the cum I had smeared there
earlier.

   Nobody that I had ever met in my life, outside of the four women in the
room with me right now, would ever connect the animal in the mirror with
boring old Becca, even if you were to draw them a map with blinking arrows
and detailed instructions.

   Let Kira post those pictures on the net, I thought to myself with a
nervous giggle.  Send them to everyone I know and see if anyone can spot
the slut in their lives.

   That last thought was enough to bring a small moan to my lips and I
quickly realized that Monique's insidious 'No Touching' rule was going to
cause a lot of sexual build up that would lead to a lot of Dumb Slut Becca
moments.  At the same time, I realized I would relish the opportunity that
those moments would present.

   That second thought brought all of the events of the night into a new
kind of focus and I was left with an inescapable truth hanging in front of
me.

   I wanted this.

   All of it.

   Badly.

   If you were to have put a gun to my head, I don't think I could have
told you where all of my perverse urges had come from, or why they had such
ownership of me.  Regardless, they were there, and I had no delusions that
they would be going away in the near future.  Perhaps I was shaped by the
events of the evening, or maybe it had to do with some inner need to crawl
out from beneath the rock that my parents had always tried so hard to keep
me hidden under so that I finally could spread my wings.  Whatever the
case, I knew that I would rather risk the ruination of my reputation a
thousand times over than to revert back to the person I had been when I
woke up this morning.

   That idea was a source of further fear and hope.  Anxiety because I knew
I wasn't fully in control of myself sometimes when I got too close to the
edge, so there was real risk associated with allowing myself to be put in
these sorts of situations.  Relief shone through, however, as I knew that I
was prepared to accept what consequences may come from my actions just for
the chance to brush up against the unknown and feel alive.  Today had,
arguably, been the best and or worst day of my life so far.  Regardless of
the quality, it had certainly been the most meaningful.

   Feeling somewhat calmer than I had before, I waited patiently for
someone to hand me my things so that I could go home and do some further
self reflection.  By self reflection, I meant furiously touching myself
while looking at every picture and video that had been taken of me over the
evening.

   At some point, Sasha came and sat my packed bag and purse next to me. 
After politely thanking her, I pulled my phone out of my purse and unlocked
it.  The notification bar up at the top showed that two hundred and eighty
six new files had been added to the forum Sasha had created to enshrine my
humiliation.  Two sets of lips drooling, I had to force my finger to swipe
right on the announcement rather than diving into the forum to witness my
shame; this was neither the time nor place for that.

   The only other new notification I had indicated that I had several
unread texts that had come in a few minutes before from an unfamiliar
number.  Curious, I clicked to open them and almost dropped my phone in
shock at the *emoji* laden series of messages and accompanying photo.

   'Hey dirty girl its kira'

   'Got your *phone* from class list'

   'Ol and I just *eggplant* *peach* *water droplets* to your pix'

   'You are so *fire* *winkyface*'

   'We should do a 3sum *smileytongue* *smileytongue* *smileytongue*'

   'Hit me back'

   At the bottom of the string was a picture of Kira, naked and stretched
out on her stomach on a bed with her feet sticking up.  More important than
her position was the fact that, clutched in her hand, hovering next to her
face, was a large, wet, stiff penis.  Kira's face was covered in semen, and
she was making a flirty look at the camera and sticking her tongue out to
catch the cum as it dripped down from above.

   Fucking hell, I muttered to myself, briefly wondering when I had allowed
my language to become so vulgar, before turning off my phone screen and
putting it back in my purse.  That was enough phone time for the day.

   On the bright side, I supposed I didn't have to worry about what Kira
was going to do with my naked pictures any more.  What she and Ollie had
done already with them was disturbing enough in a completely different way.

   The conversation in the room had petered out at this point and the
process of cleaning up had actually moved forward.  Yawning and stretching,
Deeta announced sadly, "It's been fun, ladies, but sooome of us actually
have jobs to go to in the morning." She looked pointedly at Monique for the
last part.

   "You know you have an open invitation to move in here," Monique replied.
"Just bring your stuff and take the spare room.  My parents pay the same
for the rental whether you're here or not, so they won't care."

   Slumping, Deeta sighed.  "Yeah, except my parents will only pay for my
tuition as long as I work enough on my own to pay for a dorm by myself. 
Some capitalist bullshit about having to learn the value of work ethic...
As if spending sixty plus hours a week earning good grades in my classes,
homework, and the honors program isn't evidence that I'm busting my ass
already."

   "There there, babe," Monique said, hugging Deeta, "At least some day
you'll die and get some time off."

   Both giggling at the dark joke, Deeta replied, "I should be so lucky."

   Making her way across the room, Deeta hugged Nicky and Sasha in turn and
then came my way.  Instead of hugging me, she just stood in front of me
smiling.

   "You were so brave today.  You know that, right?"

   "Uh, I guess."

   "Don't guess shit; know it 'cause I'm telling you.  You're a badass that
can take hits like a prize fighter and you should be proud of that."

   This caused me to tear up a little bit and I had to clear a lump in my
throat.  Looking at the floor, I muttered, "Thanks, Deeta."

   She reached out and lifted my chin up so that I was looking at her
again.

   "Real talk.  I teased you a lot today, and it can be hard to know what's
what, so let me be super honest for a second.  I've been accused of being a
flirt by, ahem, parties I won't name-" She obviously glanced at Monique
here, who was suddenly very interested in examining her notebook on the
table.  "-but I think that you're incredibly brave, astoundingly beautiful,
and I'm interested in you.  I'm not trying to fuck around and ruin a
friendship, and I know you have a lot of shit to process right now, but you
have my number if you want to talk about it.  If not, I'm a big girl and
nothing has to change between us.  'Kay?"

   It would be foolish to say that there weren't a ton of signs leading up
to this, but hearing it laid out so plainly was still unexpected.  Never in
my life had I ever considered being in a relationship with another woman.
Then again, I had never thought about walking around naked in public or
masturbating in front of multiple different groups of people before,
either. I knew my parents would go ballistic if they ever suspected that I
was a lesbian, just like I knew that there would be no difference between
gay and bi in their book, but my parents also wouldn't have liked a lot of
the things that I had done tonight, or the many more things I'm sure I
would do as the results of future study sessions, so I wasn't sure how much
their opinion should count for any more.

   Deeta was so funny, and so exuberant, and so beautiful, and so kind...
Maybe every decision I made didn't have to be about what my parents would
like, or what would make me feel the least guilt in the long run.

   Feeling high from the night, feeling empowered by the things I had
recently figured out about myself, and just feeling the rush of so many
things that I didn't understand, I did something that was so unlike myself
that I doubt I could repeat it given a thousand attempts.

   Taking a step towards her, I leaned in and kissed Deeta.

   I would like to tell you that I was super smooth with it, and did the
gentle back grab, and the clever head tilt, and the soft lip press, and
that it lasted a meaningfully long time, and that there was exciting tongue
action...  but none of that happened.  It was my first kiss, ever, and it
was more of an off center peck on the left side of her startled, half open
mouth.  After I did it I cringed back and almost fell over in
embarrassment, sure I had screwed everything up.

   The next couple of seconds were tense.  She didn't move and I didn't
move; we just stared at each other.  Then, her mouth broke into a grin and
she nodded to herself.  In a strange, deep accent she muttered, "In
Whoville they say, Becca's spine grew three inches that day..."

   Thrown by the non-sequitur, I scrunched my eyebrows at the familiar
sounding line.

   "Did you...  Were you doing Anthony Hopkins from The Grinch Stole
Christmas?"

   Though she had been smiling before, when I said this, Deeta's face lit
up like someone had just told her that she had won the lottery and she
loudly exclaimed, "Nobody ever gets my random bullshit!"

   Without warning, she rushed forward and kissed me back and, oh yeah, she
knew all about the hand on the back, and the head tilt, and the lip press,
and, oh my fucking God, the feeling of her tongue stud rolling around in my
mouth gave me IDEAS.

   When Monique called out, "Get a room!," Deeta didn't even break the
kiss, she just extended her arm, middle finger raised, and kept her face
pressed to mine.  My heart was beating a million times per second and I
never wanted it to end.  Of course, it eventually did.  It might have
lasted an hour, it might have been a few seconds.  Don't ask me, I wasn't
on the same planet at the time.

   When our faces broke apart, she was holding my waist with one hand and
brushed a stray hair out of my face with the other.  The gesture was so
gentle and tender that I felt like crying.  After staring into each other's
eyes for ages, she broke contact first, closing her eyes and taking a deep
breath.

   "Shit, no, we're not doing this right here, right now.  We're both
tired, and horny, and reeling from the evening and I want to do this
right."

   My immediate internal reaction was, "But what if I'm in the mood to make
bad decisions that feel good?" After a brief hesitation, however, I
grudgingly realized the wisdom of her words, so I sucked it up and forced
myself to nod in response.

   This acceptance seemed to relieve her, and she assured me, "We're going
to go home, get in our right minds, get some sleep, and tomorrow we'll have
a long talk and see what happens.  Okay?"

   "Okay."

   She extended her hand, I took it, and we shook like business partners
finalizing a deal before she pulled me in for a long hug.

   "Why'd I do this to myself?," she muttered looking at me one last time
before she headed for the door.  "How am I going to sleep after that?"

   Then she was gone, and I was left staring longingly at the door after it
closed behind her, only turning away when someone else tapped my shoulder.
It was Sasha and she looked like she was leaving as well.  She gave me a
brief, arm length hug, but the nose wrinkle and grimace as she did so told
me exactly why she kept her distance.  I couldn't blame her.

   "So, you and Deeta?," she asked.

   "I guess," coupled with a shrug was all that I could reply.

   "Good for you two," she replied.  After a smile and friendly wave, she
headed out as well.

   Monique had come to the edge of the carpeted living room and beckoned me
over so I walked over to meet her.  The difference between her, dressed in
pristine designer clothes, standing on the plush carpet with the
luxuriously decorated living room as a backdrop, and me, naked and filthy,
with only the sparse entryway behind me, was not lost on me.  I felt a bit
like a peasant being granted an audience with royalty.

   "Did you have fun today, puppy?"

   Doing a quick mental review of the day, with all the orgasms and the
glorious moments of freefall, it would be hard to argue that I didn't. 
When my recollections got to the kiss with Deeta just moments ago, a smile
spread across my face that I couldn't suppress and I replied honestly,
"Yeah...  Yeah, I did."

   "Good, because the games have only just barely begun.  I'm going to hold
you to your promise from earlier; you're never going to wear clothes in my
house again.  Understood?"

   The smile faded from my face at this reminder but I nodded my agreement
nonetheless.

   "How far do you want us to take this?," she asked, a serious look on her
face.

   A thousand potential answers to this question ran through my head in an
instant, but only one stuck out as being correct, so that was the one that
I responded with.  Pushing past a new lump in my throat, I replied, "As far
as you want to go."

   My answer brought a big grin to her face and she stepped forward to wrap
me in a close hug, for some reason uncaring of any grime that might pass
from me to her.  I imagine that her lack of concern might have been tied to
the fact that she could afford to use this as an excuse to toss out the
clothes she was currently wearing so that she could go shopping for more.

   Holding me tight, she whispered in my ear, "Good girl.  We're going to
have so much fun together.  I'm going to make you humiliate yourself until
you cry and cum at the same time...  and then I'm going to push you even
further."

   I tensed up at that declaration, but her challenge sparked something
inside of me and I heard myself channeling Deeta when I whispered back,
"Bring it, bitch."

   When we separated, she gave me a nod of respect and fist bumped me
before turning me around and giving me a smack on my butt, causing me to
start walking towards Nikki who was waiting by the door.  Behind me,
Monique disappeared elsewhere into the house.

   "You're crazy, you know that, right?," Nicky asked, smiling at me as I
approached her.

   Studying my feet, I replied, "I'm coming to realize."

   "You walked here, right?  Want a ride home?"

   I hadn't even considered how I was going to get back to my dorm room. 
All I had to my name was a bookbag with my sockless shoes shoved into it
and a small purse, so my only real option would have been to cover my boobs
and bush with my bags and walk fast, hoping there weren't enough attentive
people around to notice my revealed state.  Nicky's offer solved a problem
that I hadn't even had the foresight to realize I had.

   "I would love a ride.  Thank you.  For everything." I hugged her tight.

   "Of course, bestie." After the hug, she added, "You can even borrow my
shawl again, if you're not allergic to clothes any more." She held the
cloth out to me but pulled it back when I reached for it.  "You will return
it to me tomorrow evening, laundered and smelling Spring fresh.  Not like
the used bordello cum-rag it smells like right now."

   Blushing and looking at the ground, I nodded and accepted the shawl,
wrapping it around myself completely for the first time.  Hanging from my
shoulders, it covered pretty much everything, if you considered draping
barely two inches below my crotch as full coverage.  Compared to what I had
been wearing since leaving the bar, it felt like a suit of plate mail.

   While we walked out to the car, Nicky shook her head and looked sideways
at me.

   "Nineteen years.  Nineteen years I've known you as a stick-up-her-ass
prude.  Little Miss Perfect the pushover.  All it took was taking your
clothes off once and now you're, what, a nudist lesbian porn-star?"

   Damn, was that what I was?  Why did everything have to be so
complicated? And why did I have to tell other people who I was before I
knew myself?  I briefly entertained the idea that trying to conform to
other people's expectations about me every moment of every day of my life
might be part of some larger problem.

   "I'm...  I'm just Becca, alright?  I'll let you know if and when I
figure out what that means but, until then, I'm just going along for the
ride."

   Grinning at me across the roof of her car before she unlocked it, she
replied, "Good answer, B.  Maybe the best.  Don't let anybody tell you
otherwise."

   After that, she drove me back to my dorm.  My roommate was, thankfully,
staying with her boyfriend, so I had the room to myself for the night.  Out
of respect for my remaining tiny sliver of decorum, I won't talk about the
number of times I got myself off scrolling through the photo and video
records of the evening, or all the terrible things that I said to myself
while I did so, or about any of the degrading new pictures that I took with
an empty head and a filled pussy.

   I definitely won't talk about the new album I created with my
TellMetoStrip profile, or all the embarrassing things I uploaded to it
while I was jilling off and taunting myself for being a brainless bimbo. 
The album was only public for a little over an hour before I came to my
senses and deleted it...  one thousand six hundred and twelve views later.

   Things may have gotten a little out of control.  The world didn't end,
though.

   Out of a sense of loyalty, and also because I was directly told to do
so, I have to add the following: Nicky's fingers in the bathroom at
speedway were timely, and Kira's hands on the way home were enthusiastic,
and both managed to make me cum in the heat of the moment...  but neither
of them hold a candle to Deeta.  She does things to me that make me want to
get down on my knees and thank God that I was born a woman.

   That tongue stud?  Gets me every time.  I'm jumping way ahead in the
story here though.

   Speaking of, there is plenty more story to tell.  Things that the group
had me do during study sessions...  All the risky things I did while
unclothed on campus...  And don't even get me started on what happened
after Professor Mayfield got involved.

   Will I ever write about any of that?

   Maybe.  One day...

   For now though?

   XOXO, Love Becca
   The End