Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. >Becca Takes Her Hands Off The Wheel by ratios Part 2: -You know, - Nicky said thoughtfully, -I -(TM)ve been telling Becca for years now that she could probably get someone to ask her out if she just put herself out there a little bit more. - To accentuate her words, she ran a finger slowly down from the vee formed by the top of my breasts over my shirt until she got to my belly and then pulled away. Part of me wished she had let her finger drift a little lower. Another part of me was disgusted with that first part. -Bex, what do you have on under this bulky top? - The top in question was one of my favorites; leaf green, long sleeved, a little large for me to hide my shape, and with some ribbony frills on the front and sleeves. Definitely not high fashion, but to me it felt fancy. -Uh, nothing. - Peering closer, Nicky grabbed one of my bra straps through my shirt and lifted it up a tiny bit to snap me with it, challenging, -Nothing? - -Oh, yeah, I mean nothing but my bra. - -Okay then, let -(TM)s see how into this you are if you lose a bit more clothing. I want your top. - I looked down at my shirt and was wondering if this was such a great idea when, in a singsong voice, Deeta chimed in, -Hell yeah! I want to seeee the C-eeees! - This outburst was enough to draw attention away from me as everyone turned to stare at Deeta. Now the focus of the group, she cringed a bit and asked, -What, dontcha get it? -- See her C-cups? - The group just blinked at her. Monique snorted. Rolling her eyes, Deeta threw her hands up and muttered, -Jeez. Buncha Philistines up in here. - Shaking her head, Nicky said, -Ooookay then, - before turning back towards me, frozen in inaction. Canting her head to the side, she stated, -I -(TM)m waiting, girlfriend. - That was enough. Now stripping half of my outerwear was just another expectation to grit my teeth and fulfill, so I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and did my best to obey. As bulky as it was, the shirt was a bit of a struggle to get it up over my chest and head. While I was busy extracting myself from it, I heard Monique call out, -Nice nipple, Bex. Looks like a little pencil eraser sitting on a penny. - The group giggled at this again and I heaved the shirt the rest of the way over my head, tossing it over to Nicky, leaving my hair in frazzled disarray. Not caring about that any longer, I quickly adjusted my bra and stood primly, arms crossed across my chest which was now rosy with embarrassment. Nicky barely glanced at the shirt before she tossed it on Monique -(TM)s couch. Repeating her action from before, she smiled at me and ran her finger down the middle of my chest and the arms that now guarded it. -Still feeling your oats with this blanket obedience thing, Bex? I bet a lot of guys would ask you out if you went out like this more often. - I never intended to go out like this in the first place, let alone ever again, but that was irrelevant at this point. To the side, Monique had bent down to pick up my shirt and, out of the corner of my eye, I watched her go drop it down the laundry chute to follow my socks. I was rapidly losing clothing to wear home and I desperately wanted to touch myself about it. Bouncing over like an excited puppy, Deeta added, -Girls too! I know some ladies that would line up to pick up what you -(TM)re putting down. - Ladies too? I hadn -(TM)t ever dated a man or a woman and had never had much cause to consider which, if either I would prefer. Now I was half naked in a room full of women and all the attention was on me and the only reaction I could muster was to blush deeper and stare at the floor. Clicking her tongue with mock seriousness, Deeta admonished, -Bad news though, Bex. You were told to sit a certain way on the floor and now you -(TM)re standing up, and nobody told you to do that. That means you have to pay a forfeit for disobeying. - She then crossed her arms and gave me a faux patronizing nod. Pay a forfeit? That wasn -(TM)t the rules! Wait -- Were there rules? I had no precedent for what was going on here so I had no grounds on which to raise a sensical objection. Instead, I did what I usually did and just stood there and let what was going to happen happen. -Time to pay the piper, Bex, - Deeta teased, approaching to stand just in front of me and resting her hands on my waist. Her face was now just inches from mine and I could feel the tips of her fabric covered breasts caressing my bra. That talk about ladies lining up -- Was she going to kiss me?!? My breath caught in my throat and it felt like my heart had stopped beating. I didn -(TM)t know whether I wanted her to or not, but I did know that I wasn -(TM)t going to stop her either way. -Your forfeit for covering those sexy legs is -- Losing your cover! - Sexy legs? I had never been called sexy before in my life -- but it felt surprisingly good. My brief moment of inflated ego at the statement was diverted, however, when her hands began running around my waist with her thumbs tucked under the top of my skirt. I fully expected her to unzip my bottom covering and take it away from me, and I tensed my body to keep myself from fleeing if she did so, but the action she took instead confused me. Pushing the waistline inward, she rolled the wide top of the skirt in on itself, then did it again, and again. After ten or so turns, it looked like I was wearing a thick roll of fabric for a belt, but now my once conservative gray knit skirt had lost over half of its length! In its modified state, the hem only rested a few scant inches below my butt and I could feel tantalizing airflow directly on my thighs. It now looked like I was wearing a miniskirt, or at least the shortest skirt that I had ever worn in my life. There was no way my parents would have ever let me wear anything like this at home. Looking satisfied with my work, Deeta ran a hand up and down the exposed part of my right thigh for a moment, causing me to shiver at her touch, before giving me a smack up under the skirt directly on my panty covered butt. I gave another involuntary moan and Deeta and Monique giggled at this before Deeta gave her next order. -Now you -(TM)re looking like hot stuff, Bex. Why don -(TM)t you take this new -~fit for a whirl? Do a lap around the room for us, and don -(TM)t forget to strut like you -(TM)re a model on a runway. - Arms still crossed over my chest, and worried about how prone my tiny new skirt might be to exposing me, I began to timidly walk to the edge of the room before Sasha called me back. -Becca, how are you feeling? - -Embarrassed -- and a little cold, maybe. - Lifting the front of my skirt only a few inches, she made it painfully obvious just how easy it was for me to flash in my current state as she purposefully displayed the now soaked front of my underwear to the group. -But still aroused and excited, right? - Looking away from everyone, I quickly nodded my head. -So, you want to continue with this experiment? - I wondered if she phrased it that way on purpose, as more of an order than a question. Either way, it made it much easier for me to accept. -I guess, yeah -- - With a rare display of emotion, Sasha patted me on the shoulder and praised me, -Good girl. - For some reason, the words hit me like a static discharge to my damp nethers and I found myself subtly shifting my hips back and forth to grind my thighs together in an attempt to better act on the feeling. -I -(TM)m sure the group will be happy to continue obliging your fantasies, - she added, making it seem like they were doing me a favor -- And maybe they were? -But, since you agree that you -(TM)re having fun right now, let -(TM)s agree on a new rule. No more covering up or hiding, okay? If you -(TM)re going to embrace your nature, go ahead and embrace it. Do your best to enjoy the experience instead of constantly worrying. It will be better for you in the long run. - -~Better for me -(TM) how, I wondered, but I didn -(TM)t argue. My breath having gone ragged, I tentatively dropped my arms to my sides and faced the other women. Raising her phone, Sasha gave me a polite smile while I did my best to return and I heard several more clicks as she continued to document my shame. Never one to miss an opportunity, Monique bounded up with her own phone out and took a few photos as well before giving me a wink. Turning to Sasha, Monique asked, -If you -(TM)re thinking about using this data in a paper or something someday, would a recording of Bex giving her consent for you to use her like this be helpful? - Sasha considered this for a moment and replied, -Yes, that would probably be a good thing to have. Let me think on what that needs to look like and I -(TM)ll get back to you. - The thought of more permanent records of this gave me more tingles and it now felt like I had spilled a spoonful of olive oil between my thighs. When Monique and Sasha both backed off, Deeta shouted, -Get marching, soldier! - Focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, I resumed my task of circling the room for Deeta. -Walk sexier!, - she called out and I tried to figure out how to do so on the fly. After a few paces of some super exaggerated hip swaying and weird stepping, I must have gotten into the proper swing of things as the ladies started whistling and catcalling me. -Yeah, baby! - -Shake it, Bex! - -Hot stuff, coming through. - By the end of the first full round, something felt different. Nobody had told me to stop walking, so I started around again. I had had a strict, conservative upbringing and my parents hadn -(TM)t been big believers in positive reinforcement. Because of this, praise and compliments had been few and far between. The amount of good energy the ladies in the room were throwing at me felt like a drug being injected into my veins. Was I terrified at the amount of skin I was showing? Definitely. Did I want to stop? Just try and make me. I had never been skydiving, but I was pretty sure I was in the freefall phase. Fear getting on the plane, fear stepping out the door, nonsensical bliss on the way down, and an overwhelming feeling of -what the hell did I just do - afterwards. The compliments were almost enough to make me forget that I was prancing around barefoot, in just a bra and miniskirt. Everyone but Sasha now had their phones out and during my second lap they started to call out directions. -Stop and give us an over the shoulder look. That -(TM)s perfect, we should make you a Tinder profile with this pic. - Of course Nicky was still trying to play matchmaker for me. Deeta followed me for a bit, switching between direct, behind, and low angle shots. -Look sultry. Haha, not constipated, sultry. Like, pouty and sexy. Eh, close enough. - -Put your hands on the wall for a minute. Yeah, now stick your butt out and give us a little shake like when you were twerking. Perfect. - Crouched behind me, I was sure the view Monique was getting for this shot was borderline obscene, but I was walking on air and didn -(TM)t care. Everyone in the room was having a good time. Even Sasha seemed to be enjoying my impromptu modeling session. Suggestions were constantly being thrown at me. I did my best to accommodate, but so many things were being shouted that I could only hear half of them and only had time to do a few of the things they asked before someone else suggested another pose or look and everything previous was forgotten. I must have done ten rounds of the room before Deeta finally gave me a high five and a hug, signaling the end. -Damn, Bex. You -(TM)re sweaty. We should take you out back and hose you down! - Sweaty I was, but I hoped Deeta was joking about the hose. Strutting and posing was more effort than I had expected and, even scantily clad as I was, I was feeling the heat. The room had quieted down with Monique in the bathroom and Nicky and Deeta comparing pictures on the couch. I found myself standing alone watching two of my friends talk about how much of my body they could see in their pictures and videos. Talking about the way my boobs bounced or how they could see flashes up my skirt. That -(TM)s when the -what the hell did I just do - feeling started to creep in and I wanted the ground to swallow me up whole. It was at this point that Sasha called me over to the table where she was sitting and asked me to take a seat on one of the chairs there that had been turned outwards to face her. Grateful for the distraction from my sense of self-implosion, I did as she asked. -Here, - she stated, handing me a piece of paper with several lines of text on it in her neat handwriting, -Read through this a few times and then we can record it. - Looking at what she had written, I gulped and asked Sasha, -Uh, is it really necessary to say this for everybody? Doesn -(TM)t it really only need to be you if it -(TM)s for a paper or something? - -We -(TM)re all part of this experiment and anyone here might end up being eligible for co-authorship, even you. Besides, any of the photos, videos, or insights we -(TM)re gathering could turn into data points, so it -(TM)s best that we just include everything up front. - Nodding as if I understood and accepted it, even though I wasn -(TM)t sure about either, I gulped and read the paper a few more times until I was sure I had memorized the few lines on it. Eventually, I looked up from the paper and found Sasha still watching me. -Ready, - she asked, raising her phone and eyebrow in unison. No, I told myself. -Yes, - I told Sasha. Holding her thumb up, the light on her phone came on and I forced myself to start speaking. -My name is Rebecca Alice Hall. I am a nineteen year old first year student at Mackinaw University. I consent to Sasha Langley, Monique Bonnaire, Nicole Garret, and Padita Bandi taking photographic and video records of me and hereby release the rights for all generated content solely to their ownership to be used at their discretion. I also consent to- - I gulped here, --to them giving me suggestions and orders that will likely lead to my embarrassment and subsequent sexual arousal with the full knowledge that any following of said commands on my part is entirely voluntary. I agree to do my best to answer all questions about these activities with forthrightness and honesty. - The camera light finally flicked off. -Good girl; thank you for that, - Sasha praised. Good girl. There was that term again. I felt wetness between my legs on the wooden chair beneath me and became suddenly afraid that my arousal juices would leave a stain on Monique -(TM)s living room furniture. Scooting my butt forward on the seat, I dragged the fabric of my skirt over the damp patch in an attempt to wipe up whatever fluids I had leaked. Hopefully, there wouldn -(TM)t be a telling wet stain on my only remaining outer garment. While this was happening, Monique came over and put a hand on my shoulder. -It -(TM)s official now, Bex: you -(TM)re the group -(TM)s guinea pig. Isn -(TM)t that exciting? Doncha just want to cream yourself at the thought? - Cream. Scream. If only she knew. Fiddling with her phone, Sasha looked up and I heard a chorus of buzzes and text tones around the room. -I have created a group for all of us on the University message boards and posted the video there. Please share any media you have collected with the group in this location going forward. - Grabbing my phone from my bag, I pulled up Sasha -(TM)s link, logging into the school message board to find a thumbnail of myself staring back at me. Clicking the play button, I heard my soft words coming from the tiny speakers and wondered how I had ever convinced myself to say them. Then, looking closer at the small video, I leaned in until my nose was almost touching the phone screen, staring at the tiny triangle of cotton peeking back at me. Rushed as the production had been, I had apparently just sat down as I normally did with my legs crossed. Normally, however, I wasn -(TM)t wearing a miniskirt that just barely covered my hips, much less my crotch. Staring back at me in all their glory as I promised to be an obedient little lab rat, my bright white unicorn panties teased me with their contrasting presence against the rest of the fairly dark video. The video that I didn -(TM)t own and had given up all rights to. The video that was now on the internet -- I sat my phone down on my book and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to ease my anxiety, then another thought occurred that nearly gave me a heart attack. Was this message board group private? Could anybody else see it? The dozens of very important questions causing chaos in my brain were interrupted, however, when Nicky loudly asked, -Hey, weren -(TM)t we talking about going out to eat in half an hour? That was forty five minutes ago. I -(TM)m getting hangry. - -We were talking about walking to Duke -(TM)s, weren -(TM)t we?, - Deeta asked the group. -I -(TM)m still down for that plan. - A round of affirmations from everyone but me seemed to set the group in motion. Phones were tucked in pockets, purses were packed, and shoes were shod. Meanwhile, I was stuck standing around wondering when I was going to be given my clothes back. It wasn -(TM)t until the other four made their way towards the door and Deeta called back, -Bex, you coming?, - that I finally spoke up. -Umm, Monique? Can I have my shirt and socks back? - -Haha, silly -- Nope! You gave those up of your own volition and they -(TM)re mine now, - Monique replied, looking smug. Nicky, my best friend, my protector, my confidant, was openly snickering at my predicament. -I saw this coming Becca. How did you not? - My mouth just flapped open and closed a few times as I considered this. Grabbing my hand, Deeta pulled me towards the door. -C -(TM)mon, girl. Your sweaty bod needs a nice cooldown and it -(TM)s a lovely evening out there. We -(TM)re going to a sports bar; it -(TM)s not like you -(TM)re going to be the least dressed one there anyway. - Looking down at my swelling cleavage and barely covered thighs, I wondered if she could possibly be correct about that. Nonetheless, I allowed myself to be led towards the great outdoors in less clothing than I had ever worn in public before, but still begged, -Can I at least get my purse and shoes? - Giggling, Monique chimed in, -Don -(TM)t worry, Bex. We -(TM)ll cover you. - Winking, she added, -For food, I mean. The rest of you, I wouldn -(TM)t count on it. - Monique was first out the door, followed by Sasha, and then Deeta and myself. Lagging behind, Nicky caught up a moment later and held up my driver -(TM)s license which she must have grabbed out of my bag. -In case they want ID, - she shrugged. Noticing that I didn -(TM)t have any pockets, she thought for a second and then slid the card into my right bra cup. Feeling the cold plastic against my skin, I realized that my nipples were harder than they had been in a long time and had to bite my lip. I usually rarely touched myself, but I was so pent up at that moment that I would have definitely made an exception, given the opportunity. Not for the first time that evening, I wondered to myself, -Where the hell is all of this coming from? - I wanted to crack my head open and examine it with a flashlight to find the crooked piece that was making me want this so that I could hammer it flat again. Recovering from my distraction, I saw that the group had started walking off down the sidewalk and had no choice except to hustle after them, my mind whirling at what a walk through the busiest part of our college town would be like dressed, or rather undressed as I was. Thinking about our destination, another thought struck me: I hoped that the bar we were going to didn -(TM)t have a -No shirt, no shoes, no service - policy, as I was fresh out of both. Morosely fighting the urge to cover myself, feeling like I was glowing redder than Rudolph -(TM)s nose, I followed my friends. Part 3: The pale tan concrete of the city sidewalk still felt warm on my bare feet thanks to it having sat absorbing the fall sun all day. Even though dusk was coming on quickly, it was still comfortable enough outside that I wasn -(TM)t cold yet, despite my limited clothing. Who knew what it would be like in an hour or three when we were walking back in the dark. There was no time to worry about the future, however, as I had to spend most of my time and attention focusing on where I was stepping. Without the luxury of shoes, I had to keep focus to make sure that my bare feet didn -(TM)t find any shards of broken glass, still burning cigarette butts, or discarded HIV infected needles that my overactive imagination pictured were lying just out of sight in all directions. The sidewalks were clean so far, however, and Nicky, walking ahead of me, had kindly given me advanced warning of the single obstacle we had run across so far: a small fallen branch sitting half on the path and half in the grass. We had been walking for several minutes now and the trip had been comparatively uneventful thus far to what I had been envisioning in my mind on the way out the door. There were no unruly crowds of citizens ready to burn me at the stake as a harlot, no tacking or tasering from police officers in a hurry to put a stop to my indecent exposure, and no ground opening to swallow me up whole. There were a lot of double takes from passers by, however, and my mind burned with the knowledge that a growing number of people near campus now had a firm mental image of what the swell of my breasts and the curve of my thighs looked like. I shivered at the thought. On the bright side, the walk meant that the ladies were giving me a bit of a break from throwing any new embarrassing orders my way. I was pretty sure I had Nicky to thank for that. After leaving the house, while I was still trying to wrap my head around being half dressed in public, there was some whispered conversation between the other women as I jogged to catch up with them. By the time I matched them, the group began to break up a bit on the sidewalk. Nicky and Monique were now walking a little ahead, talking about whether superhero movies were helping or hurting the movie industry. Deeta was bringing up the rear, face down on her phone, avoiding walking head first into telephone poles or parking meters supposedly due to luck or some hidden sixth sense. Sasha was a few steps in front of me, busy in her own head doing Sasha things. That left me in the middle, alone while surrounded by friends, trying to think clothed thoughts, and watching for sneaky rats that might try to nibble at my toes. It -(TM)s possible that my less than fully clothed state might have been making me paranoid. I didn -(TM)t have a lot of time for rational thinking, however, when there was another elephant in my brain -(TM)s processing room that was causing me to sweat in the cool evening air. With this in mind, I caught up to the woman in front of me to try to put my nerves at least a bit more to rest than they had been. -Sasha? Hey, I have a quick question -- That message board thing you set up for, uh, pictures of me and stuff -- That -(TM)s private, right? - -I believe so, yes. This is the first such group I have created, but there was an option to share when I built it and I declined to do so. - Giving a nervous laugh at Sasha -(TM)s not-quite-reassuring answer, I responded, -Oh. Good. If any of the pictures or videos of me got out there, that would be, like, really really embarrassing. - Still walking, she gave me an appraising look followed by a small smile. -Embarrassing -- Yes, I imagine it would be, and we both know your complicated relationship with embarrassment. - We walked in silence for a few seconds while her face scrunched up like she was attempting to arrange her thoughts, then she looked at me curiously. -Let -(TM)s try another experiment. Picture in your mind, for a moment, a scenario. Some image or video of you in some state of undress or some compromising situation gets leaked. Perhaps a photo that was already taken today, perhaps something a bit more extreme; you with fewer clothes, doing something you don -(TM)t really want seen, begging on your knees or some such. What does that look like in your head? Who sees it and what do they say? More importantly, how do you feel about it? - Like putting a struck match to tinder, my brain suddenly lit up with scenarios I had never considered before. Getting back from dinner and finding out that Sasha had set up the board wrong and that the entire university had had access to the message board full of half dressed pictures of me for hours. Hundreds of comments and notifications of downloads. My image on the front page of amateur softcore sites. The smirks and comments of my fellow students over the rest of my college career. People laughing at me and lusting after me constantly. Waking up every day feeling more exposed than I ever had before. Everyone thinking I was a cheap slut. Slut. That was the first time I ever even come close to considering that word as applying to me, the nineteen year old virgin, never been kissed. My legs felt like they were going to give out but the scenes in my brain just started flashing past faster and faster, each more frightening than the last, each feeling like a worm tunneling deeper into my break to take up residence there. Being forced by peers to get naked in public places; -I had already gone part of the way, - they would say, -It -(TM)s only fair that I should go the rest. - Fire sale for Rebecca, everything 100% off. I could viscerally feel the imagined loss of static respect and the change in how people would look at me. Nudity was only the next step. After that, I would probably be told to streak on campus, make myself pretty for people to look at and then bend to their will, both figuratively and literally. Long sessions of being made to do the most awful and humiliating tasks before collapsing to the ground begging to touch myself after. My mind presented me with an out of body shot of me, naked on my knees, looking up at a crowd of laughing people as they shout suggestions, telling me to shake my chest and spread my- I didn -(TM)t even realize that I had stopped walking until Deeta crashed into my back, herself barely paying attention to anything other than her phone. I came out of my momentary trance almost hyperventilating, my whole body feeling like I was a battery carrying an electric charge with the sure knowledge that the right touch could have made me explode. My first instinct was to examine the ground around me for the burn marks left by the lightning bolt that had obviously just hit me -- But there were no marks. There was no lightning. There was just my mind and my out of control imagination. A single drop of fluid was sliding down my left thigh, pausing almost teasingly at the swell of my knee. Was that -- my arousal juice?!?! What the hell was wrong with me? I quickly pressed my legs together and did a quick shuffling motion in an attempt to wipe the damning drop away, but all I succeeded in doing was just causing a wet smear on the sides of both of my legs before my attention was once again distracted when I noticed Sasha standing a few paces forward regarding me with a coy smile on her lips. I could almost see her collecting and collating data in her mind about how I had reacted to her triggering question. She couldn -(TM)t know the specifics of what had gone on in my head but she had definitely seen me freeze up and almost fall over, and she had definitely seen me deal with the incriminating drip. As the world around me slowly came back into focus, my attention was once again torn away from Sasha when I realized that Deeta has been talking to my back for an unknown amount of time. I spun to face her and she was giving me a bit of side-eye. -Finally! I was wondering if there was anybody home in that head of yours, Lady Godiva., - Deeta chided, reaching out to give my forehead a gentle knock with her knuckles. With half my attention still struggling to process the mental whirlwind that had just wreaked havoc on my brain, I stuttered out, -S-sorry -- I got distracted for a sec. - From behind me, Sasha pointed out, -FYI, Lady Godiva rode fully nude. Becca here hasn -(TM)t gone that far, yet. - Yet. there was that word again. The images in my mind began to spin again and I shook my head in an attempt to clear them. Luckily, Deeta waved off the correction. -Let -(TM)s get to walking again. I -(TM)m hungry! - She began to walk past me and I turned to follow along with her, but then she glanced at my profile and I saw her do a double take that seemed right out of a cartoon. -Whoa, Bex. It -(TM)s not that dark out; you don -(TM)t need the high beams on, lol! - The confused look I gave her must have correctly communicated my lack of understanding, as she attempted to clarify. -You got a bad case of the pokies. - I was still distracted enough not to get it. -Visible peaks? - My confusion was still visible so this time she cleared her throat and spoke with comic slowness while pointing to my chest.. -Your hardened nipples are sticking out through your thin little bra. - Gasping, I looked down and saw that she was right. I hastily threw my arms up over my chest, looking cautiously up and down the street to ensure that nobody else had seen. When I returned my attention to Deeta and Sasha, however, I found them both looking at me expectantly before Sasha made an -~arms uncrossing -(TM) motion and I remembered our discussion from before we left the house. Steeling myself as best I could, I jerkily lowered my arms, my better judgment fighting against my tendency towards obedience and losing miserably. Balled fists held stiffly at my sides, I ignored Deeta -(TM)s excited clap of approval or Sasha -(TM)s thumbs up and turned to march stiffly down the street, clamoring to clear my thoughts and find some modicum of inner peace. Despite my efforts, the feeling of the wind causing goosebumps on my damp thighs and the feeling of my bra rubbing against my stiff nipples in time to my gait kept one thought front and center of my attention, no matter how hard I tried to push it down. I badly wanted to touch myself. The thought was so foreign, so unlike my normally conservative, reserved self. It wasn -(TM)t that I had never masturbated before, but those urges had always been something that I had only considered, much less acted upon, in secret and in solitude. To have such an urge dominating my attention as I walked down the street, surrounded by friends and in full view of strangers, felt -- Unnatural. Inappropriate. ***** Exciting? All I knew was that I was hornier than I had ever been before in my life. Up the block, I was surprised to see Nicky and Monique heading back towards us. Had I slowed us down so much that they felt the need to come back and check on us? When we caught up to them, Monique, smiling ear to ear, made an announcement. -Bex, we -(TM)ve decided on your next order! Don -(TM)t worry, it -(TM)s definitely something that will keep your face red and your peach juicy. - This lewd description alone started having the described effect. -We -(TM)re only a couple of blocks from the front entrance of the uni and we thought this would be a perfect time for you to show some hashtag -~school pride -(TM). And, of course, pose for a few commemorative photos! - Quick to jump in and clarify her involvement in the decision, Nicky added, -Yeah, a bit of fun for you that, importantly, doesn -(TM)t require you to take off any more clothes. - Winking, Monique teased, -We -(TM)ll see about that, - and winked at me. Closely surrounded now by the group, walking in step around me in each cardinal direction, I felt a bit like a criminal being marched by the city guard towards the city center for punishment, and I could clearly hear my heart beating in noisy syncopation with my footsteps. A turn at the next corner and another half a minute of walking in relative silence brought us to the front driveway entrance for the university. A circular area of grass was inserted between the entry and exitways with the name of the school, -~Mackinaw University -(TM), in large letters, each about four feet high. Standing on the end was a statue of Big Mike, the school -(TM)s anthropomorphized tiger mascot, replete in his purple and gold jersey and shorts. The figure was posed standing straight with his arms wrapped forward in a circle, as if giving everyone passing a virtual hug. Since it was early Saturday evening, there was almost no traffic into or out of the uni at this time. Monique walked ahead of us and did a quick spin, arms out in the middle of the grassy area. -Isn -(TM)t this a great spot for some photographs? Wouldn -(TM)t you just love to roll around in this lush, green grass naked, Bex? - Shocked at the suggestion, I sputtered, -Uh, wha, huh? - Skipping over to me, she patted me on the head and cheerfully announced, -Just kidding -- Though I bet we could get some super artsy nudes if you really wanted to strip down, I guess -- - Using her patting hand she brushed down from the top of my head, down my nose and, flicking my lips. In a husky voice, she followed up, -So -- Do you really want to? - The sheer intensity of her gaze and the weight of expectation she managed to put behind it and the seemingly voluntary choice she offered had my heart pounding and my fingers fumbling with the clasp of my skirt of their own accord when Nicky loudly announced, -You don -(TM)t have to strip, Becca. I -(TM)m sure your three remaining pieces of clothing won -(TM)t get in the way of you having a good time as is. - My moment of temptation passed, my hand left my skirt hem and I let out a breath I had apparently been holding. Some small part of me felt oddly disappointed by being let off the hook, but I pushed past it quickly. Rolling her eyes, Monique changed tactics. -Fine, have it your way. I have a great idea for some shots, anyway. Ladies, get your phones out. Becca, come over here to the start of the sign. - The other girls seemed content to let Monique lead for now as this had been her idea. She had me move over to stand by the large freestanding metal M at the beginning of the college name and, once everyone else was ready, she explained. -You -(TM)re going to go down the sign, letter by letter, and do your best to make the shape with your body. Later, we can edit them together and have a -~Becca Does Mackinaw -(TM) compilation! - -Won -(TM)t there need to be a lot more student bodies involved if we really want to do -~Becca Does Mackinaw -(TM)?, - Deeta asked. -I mean, -~Debbie Does Dallas -(TM) is a classic and all, but this group isn -(TM)t staffed for that -- - Scrunching her face, Nicky asked, -What is Debbie Does Dallas? - I had no idea what Deeta was talking about; Sasha and Monique looked confused as well. Looking between us incredulously, Deeta gave an exasperated sigh and asked, -Am I the only one with access to the internet or something? Meh, just forget it. - Obviously having Googled it on her phone, Sasha snorted with laughter and showed Nicky before Monique hustled over to see as well, leaving me standing awkwardly next to the big M. Covering her mouth due to laughter, Nicky teased, -Jeez, Deet, that porno is from the freaking seventies. My mom was only five when it came out. I bet the ladies in it had bigger bushes than that hedgerow over there. - -It -(TM)s a classic! Shut up!, - was Deeta -(TM)s only defense. Confused, Nicky responded, -It -(TM)s all about dudes banging some chick, too. I thought you were into girls -- - -I like both just fine, thank you very much. I just learned quick that dudes are usually giant selfish asshats and ladies are more likely to give a shit if their partner cums or not. Pay disparities can fuck right off; I don -(TM)t want to receive seventy percent or less of the orgasms that men get! - -Amen to that, - Sasha agreed with a nod and Monique added, -Preach. - I thought to myself that I would gladly accept any non-zero percentage of any number of orgasms right now, but I didn -(TM)t share that with the group. A moment later, I realized what I had just thought and wondered how such ideas were now finding their way into my head with increasing regularity. Waving her phone around, Monique brought the focus back to me. -Enough bullshit, though. Let -(TM)s get back to business. Bex: it -(TM)s your time to shine. Hit us with your best M! - With the attention thrust suddenly entirely back on me, I floundered for how I should respond. Having never done any sort of cheerleading or gymnastics, I wasn -(TM)t particularly flexible and wasn -(TM)t quite sure how I should accomplish what had been commanded of me. In my head, I imagined all the ways I could make an M with my body and ended up settling for the most straightforward. Spreading my legs about two shoulder widths apart, I bent over in front of the M and put my hands on the ground with my arms together, so that my legs and my torso and arms formed the three downstrokes of the letter. Standing as I was, in an awkward forward bend, my hair fell directly in my face and I found myself half blind to the world around me. A fresh breeze from behind me subtly alerted me to the fact that, bending as I was, I had probably caused my skirt to ride up my butt, leaving my damp undies on full display for anyone standing behind me. Peering between my legs, I saw no cars or pedestrians approaching from the college and breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that this photo session passed quickly, and without any traffic. Since I hadn -(TM)t been told how long to hold the pose, I just gritted my teeth and waited for someone to tell me what to do next while the muted click of photos being taken filled the air. A moment later, I heard Monique call out, -Haha, that -(TM)s great! I figured you were just going to do the hands on head thing like from the YMCA dance, but what you -(TM)re doing is much better. Just hold like that for a second. - When nobody said anything in response to this statement, Deeta apparently took offense. -Hold up! I -(TM)m like ninety percent sure that YMCA by The Village People is from the seventies too. How come I get mocked when I reference old shit but Monique gets a free pass? - When Monique responded, I heard her voice coming closer and closer, eventually settling behind me. -Because my old shit is a popular dance song still played at weddings and parties, and your old shit is a pervy porno with mega-bush. Also, I can get away with things you can -(TM)t because I -(TM)m much more popular and prettier than you. - The two old friends continued exchanging friendly jabs back and forth, their calm frivolity posing a stark counterpoint to my body -(TM)s reaction to what Monique was now doing as she stood directly behind me. The rapid flurry of electronic clicks betrayed the fact that she was taking numerous pictures of my exposed underwear and stuck-out butt. The verbal jousting didn -(TM)t even stop when I saw her feet approach from between my legs and I suddenly felt the back of my skirt being slid further up my hips. Still standing with the others from the group, Deeta yelled to Monique, -Bitch, please; we have all the same friends. You have money, and everybody loves me, and those are the only reasons anyone puts up with you. Your parents -(TM) cash is certainly the only reason I -(TM)ve hung out with you for the last decade. - All I could do was whimper as Monique grabbed the elastic band of my panties and drew it firmly up my backside, burying the back of my underwear in my buttcrack and causing the damp gusset to form a second skin against the folds of my sex! Stepping back again, she kneeled down behind me, catching my eye between my legs and giving me a wink before taking several more photos that included everything, including my shocked face. All I could do was blink at her and try to hold my position as it felt like all of the blood rushed from my nearly buckling legs towards my pulsing crotch. -Smile, Bex, your ass and crease are gonna look amazing in these pics, - she whispered to me, before continuing her repartee with Deeta, calling, -I -(TM)d rather have my money and self respect than your nose ring and reputation for putting out for anybody who buys you dinner. - It took several attempts for me to make my face form anything resembling a normal smile, but she apparently approved, giving me a thumbs up and snapping several more pictures before returning to join the group in front of me, stopping only briefly to pat my right buttcheek on her way past. That tiny gesture was enough to break my feeble hold on myself and I collapsed to my knees and elbows, sweaty and panting for air, nearly breathless for reasons that had nothing to do with the relatively simple pose I had just been in. There was no doubt that Monique knew what effect the very first set of pictures had had on me. Peering at the group through my hair, Sasha was giving me that appraising look again, as if she could look past my skin and read my soul, so I suspected she knew. Nicky was laughing at Monique and Deeta -(TM)s conversation and was likely ignorant of how hard my arousal had spiked in the last thirty seconds. Oblivious to anybody but her own mental state, Deeta just kept jibing at Monique. -I -(TM)ve slept with one person after the first date. You -(TM)ve slept with one person total in your life. You wish you were me. - -Yeah, whatever, - Monique answered. After a pause, she called back to me, -Hey, Bex. Next letter? - The rest of the group faced me again and pulled up their phones. There I was, kneeling on the ground, hair on my face, breasts hanging down and swinging with my labored breathing, barely covered by my thin bra, panting like a dog in heat. I did the quick mental math; the sign read "Mackinaw U", so I was only one down with eight to go and I already felt like I had just done a complete workout at the gym. An order was an order, however. It was a struggle to stand, but I moved to the next letter and prepared to pose again.