Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. >Becca Takes Her Hands Off The Wheel by ratios Part 11: With my butt fully on the wide seat of the bench, my legs were only able to spread a foot or so apart before my knees hit the edge of the seat, but that was enough. The cool night air touching on the damp mess surrounding my pussy as my lower lips parted immediately let me know that my calm forest vibes had only distracted me from my lust at a surface level. The arousal had still been there, hiding itself away and biding its time in my pelvis. Now, presented to the world once again, I felt myself firmly within its grasp. Reaching a finger down, I traced the outline of my damp nethers, my fingers gliding upwards over the silky wetness of my thighs to follow the outer contours of my hairy labia majora. I was gooey. This was a new experience for me; in my entire life I had never been anywhere near as highly stimulated for such an extended period as I had been throughout the night, and there was physical evidence of that fact at my fingertips. Somewhere along the line, Monique and Sasha had joined Deeta with their phones out, recording my performance, and I was now bathed in LED light. Apparently, the normal, gradually building pace of my self exploration didn -(TM)t provide the right level of entertainment for some of the group. Though I could only really see the sparkling of her blonde hair framing her face in the moonlight, I clearly heard Monique comment in her typical catty style, -Scared to take care of yourself, Bex? Do you need Nicky to get in there and scratch your itch for you again? - -Oh, go sit on a pine cone, - came Nicky -(TM)s tart reply. -Is that how you and she did it last time? - -Make that two pine cones, one for your ass and one for your mouth. - Their squabbling wasn -(TM)t exactly conducive to my activities, so I closed my eyes and did my best to tune them out. Oh, boy, did that work way too well. Once my eyes were closed, my imagination took over, and my roller coaster went from slow-and-steady rise to uncontrolled freefall in just seconds. What if it wasn -(TM)t just the study group ladies watching me right now? What if a bunch of my classmates had been getting high out here and had hid when they heard us coming, and now they were watching from the shadows, getting unbelievably horny from my debauchery. Would they stay content to just watch? Were they awaiting their moment to jump out of the shadows and ravish me? Make me their bitch? Steal away my virginity like they had stolen my privacy? Force me to service them all until I was used up and discarded like the trash littering the ground around me? My hand was moving faster now, but I didn -(TM)t feel like I was putting on a good enough show for all the guys watching in my head. Sitting primly, legs a bit apart, mine was the position of a respectable, responsible girl touching herself in the privacy and safety of her bedroom, but that was not who I really was. Good girls didn -(TM)t walk around naked, or screw themselves in front of crowds. My fantasies revealed the real me: a dumb slut who performed for the amusement of others. A dumb slut -(TM)s hopes and dreams and autonomy are of no importance; a dumb slut is an object to be used for the amusement of others. My dark fantasies wanted me to reveal myself to the world as I really was, laid bare for their pleasure. In service of this goal, I sank down into the seat and pulled my feet up onto the bench, planting them framing my butt so that my legs formed a giant M. Now, I was as I should be, with nothing on my body hidden to anyone who might be watching. There was a steady stream of my juices drooling down from around the two fingers I was wildly thrusting into my gaping and inflamed pussy. Those juices were sliding down the crack of my ass, past my winking asshole, and adding to the stickiness of the bench beneath me. In that moment, I hoped that they left a stain that would serve as a permanent, perverse record of my shameful time here. Someone should affix my name and photo on a plaque below them so that generations hence could know who and what I was. Thoughts of fame caused my fantasy to shift and expand. What if Deeta wasn -(TM)t just filming me? What if she was streaming me on some porn site. It wasn -(TM)t just a small crowd that was watching, it was thousands or millions of people around the world. Or maybe I was live on some social media site, tagged with my real account information, happily putting my wanton actions on display not just for strangers, but for everyone I had ever known or would ever know, enshrined in digital permanence forever and ever. The dark visions in my head were spiraling and becoming more depraved, but I couldn -(TM)t help but to allow myself to be pulled inexorably deeper. Somewhere along the line I started talking to my imagined viewers, my mouth spewing forth a wash of disconnected babbling that I had no control over. Apologizing to everyone I knew for letting them down and becoming a dirty slut. Begging to be seen, to be remembered for my degeneracy. Announcing that I, Becca Hall, was worthless trash that anyone could and should use me for their own devices. Speeding heedlessly towards my finish, I gave in and let the tide of my inner perversion carry me towards the edge. While repeating over and over that I was a stupid slut, I was seconds from climax when I felt a hand gently place itself over my free hand that was gripping the bench edge for stability. In an instant, my eyes opened and the fantasy retreated. Kneeling in front of me was Deeta, holding my hand in both of hers. Gone was her phone and it -(TM)s blinding light so I could clearly see the look of concern on her face. The look was short lived, however; apparently some combination of my self-directed verbal abuse and or mental distance had caused her anxiety and, when she saw that I was back from whatever dangerous place to which my mind had carried me, a smile of relief spread across her face. Despite the distraction of her touch, my other hand had never slowed in its work. Looking into Deeta -(TM)s hazel eyes, and seeing her smile, my orgasm finally overtook me and I squeezed her hands as I came so hard that I thought I might break. For the second time that evening, my arousal flooded out of me in fluid form, soaking the wrist and palm of my active hand. When I yanked my fingers out of myself in reflex, the arc of liquid satisfaction sprayed several inches away from my body to water the indifferent grass below before, finally, my fire spent itself completely. Luckily for her, Deeta was positioned to my left and was spared the trouble of getting painted with my juices, but I nonetheless began to feel guilty when the realization of what I had just done began to creep in. Silence reigned in the clearing for several seconds while Sasha and then Monique -(TM)s phone lights shut off and darkness returned. -Wow, - whispered Deeta, squeezing my hand one more time before letting go. -That was the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life! - Not sure how to respond to that, I remained silent and tried to catch my breath while simultaneously pushing down the feeling of sinfulness trying to overwhelm me. -You should totally do an OnlyFans or something. You -(TM)re a fucking natural, - advised Monique, but I wasn -(TM)t sure if she was teasing or not. Her hand still on mine, Deeta told me, -I stopped vidding you halfway through when you started beating yourself up about everything, but, from that fountain finish, it looks like that might have been all part of the way you jill. Was it as good for you as it looked? - Embracing the truth, I admitted, -Um, yeah -- It was pretty phenomenal. I -(TM)m not even sure where my mind went during all of that, or what I might have said. I just kinda went with it. - Smiling again, Deeta replied, -Damn! I wish I had stuck with the video then. - -No worries, Lezimus Prime. We -(TM)ll post ours to the forum, - Monique promised, gesturing between herself and Sasha, who nodded in confirmation. -You can stroke your kitty to the recordings all night if you want. - It was hard to tell in the dark, but I was pretty sure that Deeta was blushing furiously again. I felt her hand on mine, just lightly touching, and she asked in a hopeful voice, -Becca -- You -(TM)re okay with that, right? Like, being out here and having fun being all naked and free is one thing, but I don -(TM)t want to perv on you behind your back -- - Another woman was asking my permission to pleasure herself to a video that had just been taken of me pleasuring myself. Even with my eyes open, my mind flashed back to my frightening new fantasies of being used and objectified and my pussy quivered. Without bothering to consult my brain in the process, my mouth replied in a hoarse voice, -Please, do whatever you want with the videos. The pictures too. All of it. - Meeting her eyes again, I repeated, -Whatever you want. - This may have been too much for her as she stood and turned away from everybody, taking a loud, deep breath before announcing, -It -(TM)s time to get back ladies and gentlewomen. - Approaching me again, she held out a hand to help me up off the bench. I reached out to accept her aid but then realized that I was reaching with the hand I had just done my business with and switched to awkwardly offer my other hand. My legs were stiff from being held up and back for so long, but I was able to get them under me and stand. As soon as my feet hit the ground, however, I realized I was standing up onto the grass immediately in front of the bench that was covered in my squirt. A day ago, even a whisper of such a thing being a possibility would have sent me cringing into the next universe. Today, though? Without letting on what I was doing, I surreptitiously shuffled my feet under the guise of getting my circulation back, taking secret pleasure in squeezing my expelled lady cum between my toes and coating my dirty soles in it. Caught up in the moment, I turned away from everyone and took the hand I had touched myself with, still drenched in my juices, and began to rub it on my bare stomach, smearing my arousal over my belly and then chest. My breasts and nipples were next but, while rubbing them, I heard a quiet voice just behind me that made me jump. -Make sure you get your face too. - Looking fearfully over my shoulder, I saw Deeta just behind me, looking at me with an expression of unbridled lust. The others of the group were already on the path and moving away, but I think that Deeta had intentionally positioned herself between me and them in case one of them happened to look back. It was just us in the clearing now. After a moment of stillness, my newly re-horny mind made several quick decisions in a row, following them up with quick action before I could stop to consider the foolishness of my actions. First, I turned to face Deeta completely, planting my feet much further apart than was necessary and keeping my free hand to my side. Next, the hand covered in my ejaculate then began to creep upwards from my chest, and soon I was spreading my arousal juices over my cheeks. My nose and eyebrows I wiped with the sides of my fingers and then, driven by the desire I saw from Deeta, a whim led me to run my hand several times through my messy, tangled hair, making sure to deposit every last bit of my cum anywhere that it shouldn -(TM)t belong. When I was done, I stood with my hands hung at my sides and let Deeta take in the sight of me. I couldn -(TM)t tell you why I did, or at least I didn -(TM)t have a reason that I was willing to admit to myself at the time, but I presented myself nonetheless. Taking advantage of my silent offer, she approached close enough that her chest almost touched mine and I could smell just a hint of some sort of fruity body wash or perfume. Covered in musk as I was, I was sure that she couldn -(TM)t help but to smell me as well, but she removed all doubt completely by taking a long, deep inhale from in front of my breasts up to my forehead. -Good girl, - she whispered, causing me to quiver. Her head tilted forward incrementally and I was positive that she was preparing to kiss me when Nicky called out from the trail, -You two coming?, - and the moment was shattered. Stepping back, she almost stumbled over something and bent down to pick up my discarded skirt. Tossing it back to me, she whispered, -What is it that you like to call yourself? Dirty slut? I can -(TM)t imagine why, - and gave me a teasing wink. Chuckling to herself, she turned and walked off down the path. 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 -(TM)t super wet, but it wasn -(TM)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 -(TM)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 -(TM)s totally into this -- - -...somebody so spineless she -(TM)s got major guts -- -...far she -(TM)s willing to go -- - -...definitely not letting her wear clothes again as long as -- - 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 -(TM)? How can I talk to my parents again knowing what I -(TM)ve done? How can I ever look any of my friends in the face again after what I -(TM)ve shown them of myself? AAAAAAHHHHHHHH! After walking through the quiet foresty 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 -(TM)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 -(TM)re back in public so that I -(TM)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 -(TM)t get enough. - -She gets way better grades than you, Snow White, - Deeta chimed in, coming to my defense. -I think she -(TM)s a rather smart slut. - -Maybe when she -(TM)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 mapped to my arousal state that I realized that the pause before we left the park had not meant what I thought it had meant. They weren -(TM)t waiting for me to go first, they were 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 it 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 -(TM)s to end this evening, and I just prayed that we were getting close. Occupied with forcing my feet to keep moving, I didn -(TM)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 -(TM)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 -(TM)re on your way home from something. Andy thinks you -(TM)re just some sort of pervert cause it looks like you -(TM)re leading the group. Who -(TM)s right? - -Um --, - I replied, trying to think of a way to logically explain my state that didn -(TM)t make me look like a sex offender. Shit, I thought to myself.