Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. >Becca Takes Her Hands Off The Wheel by ratios Part 5: After what felt like an excessive amount of photos had been taken of my intimate display from every conceivable interesting angle, the group finally settled down and Deeta helped me up. -These are some good pics, Bex. I -(TM)ll bet you -(TM)ll love how they turned out. We -(TM)ll all be able to go back and remember today in whatever-million-megapixel-iPhones-are-up-to-these-days HD forever. I bet you could even count the number of pubes sticking out of your unicorn undies if you had the time and inclination -- Not that I was paying super close attention to your pubic area, or anything. - Sidling closer to me, she nudged me and stage whispered, -Psst, I totally was, Bee Tee Dubs, - followed by an indulgent giggle. Shivering at the implication, I glanced at her and gave her a small, helpless smile. For some reason, I found my gaze lingering on her face, noticing the way her cheeks dimpled with her teasing smile, and the slight glint of the fading sunlight reflecting off the stud in her nose as she giggled. With a shock, I had to question myself: am I attracted to Padita? In my mind I started rapid fire listing reasons why going down that path was a bad idea. -She -(TM)s your friend. She -(TM)s a girl. She -(TM)s already seeing someone else. She -(TM)s just teasing you. You -(TM)re just horny out of your mind. You -(TM)re in no state to make rational decisions right now. Just Don -(TM)t Think About It. Just Don -(TM)t Think About It. Just Don -(TM)t Think About It. Just Don -(TM)t Think About It. Just Don -(TM)t Think About It. Just don -(TM)t -- - Then I thought about it. The feeling of her hand on my back -- The way she squeezed my butt -- The joke-y sniff and lick after -- The hugging and the high fiving and the attention and the teasing -- Then, like I was going down a waterslide, picking up speed, I found myself thinking about her body. She had a nose stud and a tongue stud -- Were her nipples pierced too? Feeling like I had been hypnotized by forced unknown, my eyes took it upon themselves to stare at her chest as if trying to mentally pry their way past her navy blouse and the bra beneath that you could just barely make out the outline of. After a few seconds of this, her sultry voice came down from above asking, -You wanna see -~em? - Hearing the question was like awakening from a frightening dream, only to find out that your reality was as messed up and confusing as the slumbering ravings of your nonsensical subconscious. These thoughts and this behavior was not at all like me. In my head, I screamed, -What the hell are you doing?!?, - at myself. Objectifying a friend, was the unfortunate and shameful answer and I realized that, through many tiny actions, I was now what felt like light-years away from my typical realm of comfortable, conservative decision making. A flat, -uhhhh, - sound was the best I could muster in verbal reply to her question. I was about four H -(TM)s into my non-reply before she interrupted me with, -Well TOO BAD, these ladies are staying caged!, - jiggling her boobs under her shirt for emphasis. -I wouldn -(TM)t want to break out my magical ta-tas and steal all the attention away from your cutie nudie booty. - Giggling again, she stepped past me to get back to the other ladies, her shoulder and arm brushing mine, but paused to whisper, just for me, -Maybe later, -~kay?, - and gave me a wink before rejoining the group. My whole body frozen, I just stared off after her, her words feeling like they were burning holes in my brain to parts unaccessed before. Maybe later. Later. Later, I could finally get dressed again. Later, I could take the rest of my clothes off and masturbate. Later I could finally be alone and away from prying eyes. Later I could -- what -- be with Deeta? -~Later -(TM) was an alluring and frightening place full of conflicting desires, hidden by the unknown. Idly brushing the loose grass off my backside, I struggled to figure it all out but, finding no magical clairvoyant sight to tell me what the future might bring, I decided the best thing to do would be to distract myself as much as possible until Later became Now. -Time for the last letter, - I cheerfully announced in a probably-way-too-high-pitched and far-too-chipper voice, eager to move on from my thoughts and this place. When everyone was ready, I took my position in front of the end of the sign and made a U with my arms above my head. Several perfunctory photos were taken, and then we were done. Even for me, with my fervent desire to wrap the whole process up, it felt anticlimactic. I don -(TM)t know what I had been expecting. To end up stripped naked and tied to a flagpole? For a holiday parade to come by and put me on the Six O -(TM)clock news? Reality turned out to be a much more boring place than the fringes of my imagination. Was it possible that I was disappointed by this? Nonetheless, at long last (though we had probably only been here for twenty minutes), the current ordeal was over and so I asked the group, -Time to go eat? - Nicky -(TM)s enthusiasm was telling. -Please! I would chase a wooly mammoth across the Arctic tundra with a stick right now if it meant I could eat it. - Letting the stressed muscles of my body relax a tiny bit, and breathing out a large sigh of relief, I turned and began to walk towards the path back to the main road. -Hey, I have an idea for one more photo, - Monique announced. My muscles tensed twice as hard as before and locked me in place for a second. Sucking my relief back in, I re-summoned my happy face, turning and delivering my most excited sounding, -Okay!, - as Nicky groaned and Sasha rolled her eyes at us. Walking further into the grass circle, Monique waved for me. -Awesome. Bex, c -(TM)mere and let Magic Mike -(TM)s magic hands do their thing. You -(TM)re going to let him live up to his legend. - Magic Mike was the informal name students had given Big Mike, the anthropomorphized tiger mascot for the college. The reference to his magic hands was because the statue that stood next to the Mackinaw U sign had his arms up as if giving a hug to some invisible party. This was all well and good, but his hands were wide with fingers spread and slightly curled, and some joker at some point in the past had pointed out that it looked like the statue was actually groping a pair of unseen breasts. Ridiculous as it was, the joke had stuck around and had become part of the University's mythos. Another student, I imagine some permanently horny fraternity dudebro, had introduced the concept of -~honk if you love honking -(TM) based on this legend and, to this day, people would occasionally honk their car horns when driving past the statue to celebrate Mike -(TM)s honking of an imaginary pair of boobs. Having heard the legend before, it wasn -(TM)t difficult for me to figure out what pose Monique had in mind for the final picture. Wanting to get the whole photo shoot over with, I ducked under Mike -(TM)s circled arms and stood up so that my chest was covered by his grasping hands. Frowning, Monique looked at the scene. -That -(TM)s no good, your bra straps ruin the shot and you look way too blas(C) about it. Here, let -(TM)s do this. - Without asking or ordering, Monique stepped up and thumbed my bra straps off my shoulders, down onto my upper arms. Panicking, I reached up, prepared to grab my boobs when my bra inevitably fell off, but the shoulder straps just hung there limp while the elastic of the backstrap held the cups in place. Stepping back and checking the look on her phone, she complained, -Well, your face is better, but it still doesn -(TM)t look right. - Pausing in thought for a moment, she shrugged and, with a suspiciously straight face, concluded, -You -(TM)re going to have to give me the bra. - Inside, I was screaming. But... But... Three pieces of clothing! That was the deal! I knew I should say nuh uh, no way, not a chance. Instead I squeaked out, -I don -(TM)t want to get arrested. - -Don -(TM)t be silly. We -(TM)re all right here. Do you see any cops around? Just give me the bra and we -(TM)ll be done with it. - There we go; I had been told twice. No wriggling out now. Trying to keep my body from shaking, I slowly reached behind myself and unfastened the only remaining piece of clothing that I had for the top half of my body, pulling it off and handing it to Monique with all the enthusiasm of a starving woman handing over her last few pennies to the tax collector. She whisked the item out of my hands, folded it up, and stuck it in her bag before closing the flap. -Now we -(TM)re talking!, - Deeta declared. -You don -(TM)t expect to get that back, do you?, - Nicky asked, shaking her head and laughing at, presumably, my naivety. Watching the bra disappear into Monique -(TM)s tote, I felt a sense of finality with the one-sided exchange, and, like Nicky said, became sure that I wouldn -(TM)t be seeing it again -- Just like my socks and shirt before, my bra was no longer mine. All that I had left was my artificially-mini-skirt and my so-damp-as-to-be-transparent unicorn panties to get me through the rest of the night. A forward thinking part of me wondered how I was going to manage to convince the restaurant we were going to to let me in without anything to cover myself with. A more practical part of me pointed out that I couldn -(TM)t possibly manage to walk the rest of the way to the restaurant topless without dying of shame, so the task of getting seated was likely moot. Standing in Mike -(TM)s not-so-warm embrace, now topless, my first instinct was to cover my bare chest with my arms, but I had promised earlier not to cover up what the group exposed of myself. Or had I been ordered not to? Was there a difference any more? It didn -(TM)t matter, my breasts were fully on display to the world except for the cool clutching of Big Mike. I wanted to cry and to cum, maybe at the same time. The show must go on, however, and I was the star, love it or hate it. Without a bra on, Monique seemed much happier with how her shots were turning out. In an attempt to preserve the little bit of modesty I had left, I pressed my ladies into Big Mike -(TM)s cold metal hands so that nothing would show when Monique or Deeta inevitably came in for an ultra low angle shot. The feeling of getting groped by a frigid iron giant was novel in a way that I was sure would haunt my dreams and/or nightmares for a long time to come. At one point, when I accidentally pinched myself between the gap between two of his fingers, I realized that the statue -(TM)s hands weren -(TM)t perfectly matched for a woman of my stature; rather than his palms acting as the cups of a makeshift hand-bra, my nipples were instead nestled just barely in the edges of the gaps between his thick fingers. None of my friends had bothered to point this fact out to me while they took their constant stream of photos, though the fact did explain some of the giggling and whispering they were doing amongst themselves. As badly as I needed release, I allowed myself to make the ignoble decision to subtly try and rub my nipples up and down the rungs of Mike -(TM)s hand formation, wanting to curl up and die of embarrassment the entire time, but unable to stop myself nonetheless. Unfortunately, Deeta called an end to things much too quickly for me to get anything out of my actions except to wind my inner spring up even tighter than it was before. If I didn -(TM)t find a way to uncoil soon, a feather touch might end up causing me to explode. -As fun as this was, and as great as it will be to jill off to these pics later- - O M G, my brain screamed. Deeta! Mercy! Please! --I -(TM)m with Nicky. Hunger is winning out over horniness here. We can play with Becca more after we go eat, but we gotta go eat. - -Okay, okay. We can go now, - Monique conceded. -That pose was just too perfect to pass up. - -Yeah, - Nicky stated, staring right at me with an unexpected intensity, -Let -(TM)s all go to the restaurant. - Monique and Deeta started to walk away but Sasha, sensing that something was up, stayed behind, her gaze roaming curiously between Nicky and I. Frozen in indecision on how to proceed, I just stood there getting groped by a statue with Nicky matching my lack of movement. She stood stock still, rooted in place with her arms crossed, waiting for me to make a move. When the rest of us didn -(TM)t follow them, Monique and Deeta turned to look back our way. -Well, Becca, you coming?, - Nicky asked, a bit too loudly, adding a raised eyebrow for emphasis. Poor as the coverage of Big Mike -(TM)s hands was, it was still the only coverage I had available. Unsure what I should do, I reached up to cover my boobs with my own hands but, recalling the no covering rule, I lowered my arms to my sides yet again. It took an eternity of Nicky -(TM)s pointed staring at me for me to gather the courage to speak, but I eventually managed to croak out a tiny, -Help. - -Thought so, - Nicky announced, as if she had just won some silent argument, unfolding her arms and relaxing her posture. -It -(TM)s nice to know that you do still have some limits, B. - When Nicky pulled off her cream colored shawl that she was wearing over her clothes and handed it to me, my lip quivered and I wanted to pick her up off the ground and give her the biggest hug ever. The shawl was not a shirt, and was obviously supposed to be worn over another top, but it covered most of my upper body when draped over my shoulders, and only left a small gap down the front of my body on display; no bare nipples or anything! With the shawl on, I suddenly found myself more covered than I had been at any point in the last couple of hours. Having donned Nicky -(TM)s gifted clothing item, I ducked out from Big Mike -(TM)s arms and gave her the great big bear hug she deserved, whispering, -Thank you, - in her ear. Even without her shawl, Nicky still had on a T-shirt and jeans, so it wasn -(TM)t as if she had stripped herself for my sake but, to a starving woman, a few crumbs could be more meaningful than gold. -You -(TM)re welcome, - she whispered back, reaching up to ruffle my hair. Stepping back, she looked me in the eye and said, -Sooner or later, we -(TM)re going to have to sit down and hash out what it is that you really want, though. - I -(TM)ll let you know the second I find out myself, I wanted to say, but Sasha provided an answer of a different sort. -I think that figuring out what Becca wants, and how that changes based on how embarrassed, and thus how aroused she is, is the question we -(TM)re trying to answer with our activities tonight and going forward. Every request we ask that she does or does not execute upon gives us, and her, a better idea of where those boundaries lie. - It sounded sensical enough to my confused brain that I just nodded dumbly. Furrowing her brow, Nicky thought for a moment and then asked, -Sooo -- What, we should all just push Becca around a bit til she hits the walls of her horniness, like just there when she was topless, and then back off a bit and try something else? - Looking up and swaying her head back and forth a bit, Sasha agreed, -I wouldn -(TM)t have put it in quite those colorful terms but, essentially, yes. - -And, Becca, you -(TM)re cool with this? - All eyes on me, I felt compelled to respond and nodded stupidly. -Okaaaay -- Sasha, you said -~our activities tonight and going forward -(TM). Are you saying this is going to become the norm? Like, Study Group time is now also -~push Becca -(TM)s boundaries until she -(TM)s a throbbing wet mess -(TM) time, or something? - -Again, not quite the terminology I would use, but that is the general gist of it, yes. - -And Becca, that -(TM)s what you want? - My future was being decided by parties other than myself with barely a nod in my direction for performative approval. This was definitely what I was used to, though the stakes of the current direction were radically different than anything my parents had ever decided on my behalf. Feeling like I was unable to get off the train that was railroading me away from the land of logic and reason, I just nodded foolishly. Getting official buy-in from me as the group -(TM)s new playtoy drew a smattering of applause from Monique and Deeta and a satisfied nod from Sasha. Throwing her hands up into the air, Nicky pronounced, -Fuck it. Why not? It will certainly make our study sessions less of a grind, that -(TM)s for sure. Becca, babe, you might have some screws loose in that brain of yours but, if what you really want is to get shaken until we find out where they all are, then, I guess: get ready to get shook. - Sounding majorly hangry, Deeta butted in. -What I really want is to eat at least one horse, possibly more. Are you all coming, or what? - One minute before, after Nicky first gave me the shawl, I had been feeling comparatively clothed and confident. Now, my focus was being pulled back towards the future, that place full of terrifying unknowns. Once again, I did my best to push those considerations off to the side in favor of focusing on putting one foot in front of another while I walked with the rest of the group down the street. Occasionally, the breeze would come through and play with the unsecured halves of the front of my borrowed shawl but, though nobody had expressly told me to do so, I didn -(TM)t wrap it around me completely, allowing it instead to just hang around my neck and shoulders with a gap in the front. Nevermind the fact that I was flashing tons of sideboob to the world at large, or that my lower lips were still parted like The Red Sea when Moses was fleeing the Egyptian hordes under my short skirt. People were passing us by without even giving me second glances and the conversation among the group had turned towards completely benign topics (meaning, not related to me or my partial nakedness in any way). Mostly covered and feeling somewhat comfortable and confident, I began to feel a return to something close to normalcy. Perhaps I grew too comfortable for the newly awakened desires within myself. Without consciously deciding to do so, I found myself keeping my hands at my sides, not moving to adjust the shawl as it flapped lazily in the breeze or swished back and forth with my steps. As such, I knew I was living with the constant possibility that a strong gust of wind might come along and inadvertently expose something that I didn -(TM)t want to be seen. My excuse for this behavior was that I had promised the group that I would not cover up, and that relying on the shawl too much to keep myself hidden was a form of cheating. Despite this, I couldn -(TM)t deny that the constant risk of becoming suddenly uncovered was thrilling in both a good and bad way. Turns out, if you gamble, sometimes you lose, and sometimes that loss comes immediately. Channeled down the straight corridor formed by the storefronts on both sides of the street, a strong wind ripped down the way and the shawl was yanked off my body like a kite without a string. Borne into the air at first, it settled to whirl and dance away from me along the black asphalt of the street proper as I stared helplessly after it. -EEK!, - I shrieked when my brain caught up with what was happening, and sprinted off after it. So focused was I on my escaping item of clothing and I was barely looking for cars that might speed by and pancake me, much less giving any thought to potentially covering my jiggling breasts. Afterwards, I would note that not a single one of the other ladies followed to help me catch my errant garment, instead all choosing to pull out their phones and record my struggle for posterity while laughing and shouting after me with encouragement. The sight of a topless young woman in a miniskirt chasing a rag down the road drew a lot more attention to me than I had gotten with any of my previous activities, but none of that would hit me until later either, when I would remember the laughing, and the strangers taking photos, and the cars slamming on their brakes as I streaked by. In the moment, my tunnel vision turned out to be a blessing. Who knows if I would have caught the shawl if I had been hampered by trying to prevent my boobs from bouncing all over the place as I ran, or had slowed myself down by trying to shield myself away from the prying eyes of the surrounding public. As it was, I nabbed the escaped clothing item and returned to the waiting study group ladies, wheezing and out of breath, but triumphant. The shawl was once again draped over my shoulders, now tucked into my skirt for stability, and I felt every bit like a mighty hunter returning to her waiting tribe with enough food slung over her shoulders to feed them all through the long, cold winter. -Welp, your pre-dinner show was excellent, Bex, - Deeta gushed, shoving her phone in my face. On the screen, I watched myself, topless and frantic, zig zagging around the street after the mischievous shawl, and the reality of my actions finally hit me. The adrenaline high I was on started fading almost immediately as I realized just how much I had shown, and to how many people I had shown it. The video lasted a good thirty seconds and, during that time, I saw at least ten people in the phone -(TM)s limited view staring at me, laughing at me, photographing or filming me, or just committing the image of my bare, bouncing breasts to their memories forever. The aspect of the mighty hunter fled me completely, leaving behind only a glacial chasm filled with shame, and I felt my face get so hot that I was sure I was sure steam was going to start shooting out my ears like I was in a cartoon any second. Grinding my thighs together to generate as much friction against my sopping wet crotch as I could, I turned and fast walked off down the street, leaving the other four giggling girls to follow in my wake.