Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 It Can Always Get Worse by Tester86

   A tale of blackmail, humiliation and forced exhibitionism.

   Chapter 1

   1

   Kimberly looked at the Caller I.D.  and cried.  For the second
consecutive week her mortgage company was calling, and each message left
was worse than the one before.  The message yesterday told her that
foreclosure proceedings would begin immediately if she did not pay the four
months past due mortgage payments.  It was money that she did not have.

   The phone beeped indicating another new message.

   Kimberly wept.

   2

   Six months earlier her husband of eleven years had left her for another
woman saying that Kimberly was not adventurous enough in bed; that she did
not satisfy him.  In Kimberly's estimation it was a lie, an excuse to do
what he wanted, her feelings be damned.  While she was not a slut, she was
more than brave enough and doting enough to try, and even enjoy, most of
the thing he had wanted.  She dressed provocatively for him, stripped in
public for him, even enjoying the feeling of knowing that she was not only
exciting her husband, but anyone else who may have seen her performance. 
Thanks to her husband, her ex-husband, she had a secret turn-on with
exhibitionism.

   She had participated in threesomes for him even though she had not
enjoyed it.  She had dressed in costumes for him; acted out his fantasies;
spanked and been sparked by him and others at the swinging parties he would
drag her to both willingly and unwillingly.

   She was not a stupid woman; she could see the end coming.  It was the
vindictiveness of it that surprised her.  He had emptied the joint bank
account, removing his name from the account while she taught Freshman
English at the local Junior College.  She had returned from work to find
the furniture all but gone, the electricity and phone turned off and the
bank account empty.  Her clothes were in shreds except for the most
outlandish and revealing items she owned; the clothes that he knew she
liked to wear in private during their game time.  It was not the type of
clothes that she would wear to teach the young men and women in her care
during the day.  Only her most revealing and humiliating clothing remained
untouched by the scissors he left stabbed into their marital mattress where
her head would normally lay.

   It was an act of hate, the way he left her.  She did not cry that day.
That day she vowed to herself that she would land on her feet and do it
with dignity.  She would prove that she was stronger than he was; that she
was more man than he ever could have been.

   It did not work out that way.

   3

   "Miss Turner," she cringed hearing the distaste in the voice of the
unnamed woman on the answering machine.  "This is our fourth attempt to
contact you this week.  As of today we have begun foreclosure on your
property and unless full payment of the past due balance is made by the
close of business..." Kimberly stopped listening.  She had heard it before.
A certified check (they would not take a personal check they had told her)
for the past due amount as well as the current payment that would be due in
less than a week, must be presented to the bank or the bank would take her
home.  Take the only thing she had.

   Following her husband leaving and using the few dollars that had been
stashed away in the house in their emergency fund for new work clothes, she
had slowly rebuilt.  She had purchased a new bed; theirs having a huge hole
in the mattress and seeing it had made her cringe in shame and anger.  It
meant nothing to him and it would mean nothing to her.

   She was living paycheck to paycheck, her meager third year salary at the
college just enough to make ends meet.  Then, as life will do, things went
from bad to worse.  She had had to buy a second hand car as they had only
had one and since she got the house, he got the car.  The car she purchased
froze up and refused to start one day and that turned out to cost her
almost a full check to repair and she was now a month behind.

   Then the refrigerator's fan motor seized, making the house smell like a
fire was about to erupt and a second payment got missed.  The first calls
started then; polite ones.  We'll work with you.  Pride stepped to the
plate and Kimberly just knew she'd be okay.  She would work it out.

   Her newly fixed car got stolen from the teacher's parking lot on campus.
Restitution...none.  Cost: another two months behind.

   Kimberly looked at the ad she had circled in the paper.  Dancers wanted;
nudity required.  She exhaled a sad, weepy sob and picked up the silent
phone.  She needed another job, one that paid well and paid quickly.  She
had taken dance when she went to college, and she knew she had an
attractive body; her ex-husband told her often enough with both words and
his obvious arousal at her provocative shows.  With her secret thrill of
exposing her body and her desperate financial situation, she figured it
would be a short-term solution for her monetary problems.

   Dialing the phone, she made the call.

   She cried when she hung up.  She had an interview that she did not want
to make but knew she'd have to and she just knew she would get the job.

   4

   Kimberly looked at the black door that lead into Pussy Cats.  Why, she
wondered, did these places always have such suggestive names?  Well, she
supposed, it did draw customers.  With a sharp exhale she opened her car
door and made her way inside.

   The place was empty and the overhead lights were on.  She had, of
course, been inside strip clubs with her ex-husband.  She had even appeared
on stage during an amateur night contest.  She did not win but felt pretty
good about herself coming in second to the nineteen year old strumpet that
had won.  She had been twenty six at the time, twenty nine now, and she was
certain it was just the age of the young woman that had won that put her in
second place.

   "Can I help you," a young man asked standing in the corner next to a
wall of electronics that controlled the clubs sound system.

   "Yeah, uh, yes," Kimberly said.  Her mouth was dry.  "I have a meeting,
an interview." She was tripping on her words.

   The man nodded his head, "through there." He indicated a maroon curtain
hanging to the right of the main stage.

   "Thanks," she said.

   Kimberly walked through the curtain and peered down a short hallway with
three more dark curtains, one to each side of the hall and one at the end.
"Hello," she called out in a small voice.

   "In here."

   She followed the voice through the back curtain and saw a fat man with a
stained T-shirt and black shorts sitting on a stool before a large mirror.
There were about a dozen stools in the room, six spanning each side with
two wall-length mirrors and along the back wall there was another curtain
and twenty small lockers stacked two high, most of them having a small lock
in the silver hasp.  To her left was a sink with a medicine cabinet above
it.  "Can I help you?" The fat man asked.

   "Um," she swallowed, "I have an interview."

   "Can you dance?"

   Kimberly nodded.

   "Can you get naked?"

   Again, she swallowed.

   "Show me."

   She looked around the room seeing herself countless times as her
reflection bounced between the twin mirrors.  "Here?"

   There was no patience in his voice, "look, you want the job?"

   No, she thought, I do not want the job.  "Yes."

   "Then dance."

   Kimberly wiggled her hips and slowly began to dance.  She kicked off her
sneakers and turned, pushing her ass out in an invitation to the man
watching her.  She spun around and with a quick move pulled hem of her
blouse out of the waistband of her jeans.  Kicking her legs she slowly
unbuttoned her blouse and with a flourish she pulled the halves apart
revealing the white bra that she wore.  She shrugged the shirt free of her
shoulders and threw it to the sink behind her.

   She felt a stirring in her crotch as she exposed her half-naked chest to
this stranger.  It was the same feeling she got when her husband had made
her strip for him in the car or at the beach or once in a Macy's fitting
room.  Reaching up behind her she unfastened her bra and bending at the
waist so that her breasts hung free she dropped the bra down her legs and
to the floor.  She swung her long, brown hair in a circle, almost hitting
the fat man with her hair.

   She stood up and still shaking her hips and now her naked breasts, she
unfastened the snap of her jeans.  Her breasts were not overly large, but
were not tiny either; her husband...ex-husband...had called them perfect
and seeing this man before her staring at them she knew her B-cub did
indeed look good.  She turned again and inched her jeans over her ass
revealing a small, black thong.  She stepped out of the jeans and with a
spin and a flourish kicked them away.

   Her nipples were hard points and she knew it was not just because of the
cool room; she was sexually aroused.  She could see the excitement in the
fat man, his black shorts not hiding his obvious approval at her revealing
performance.  She could also feel her own excitement; her panties were damp
with it.

   Still, she danced.  She turned two complete circles and then staring the
man straight in the eyes she dropped her panties to her feet, stepped out
of one side, and lifted them to her hands with the other foot.  She grabbed
them, held them to her nose and inhaled the evidence of her arousal.  She
then spun again and threw her panties behind her.  She stood before him,
her hands at her sides not covering her breasts or the thin triangle of her
pubic thatch and pussy.  She wondered if she had taken one breath during
her dance.

   The fat man just stared at her.  The seconds ticked by, slowly to
Kimberly.  He was watching her.  She needed the job, and she could not help
but wonder what he was thinking.

   "You work Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays.  Start at nine, work till
close at 1 A.M.  All tips you split with the bartenders, and they split
theirs amongst the girls.  You keep all money you earn in the two private
rooms behind the stage.  We pay you 100 bucks a night.  Sound good?"

   Kimberly nodded.  "Yes."

   "Good.  You look good; you dance good.  See you Thursday.  Come in early
to do some paperwork and meet some of the other girls.  Bring a lock for
one of the lockers.  Be here at eight.  Any questions?"

   She shook her head.

   "Then you can go."

   Kimberly got dressed, feeling how wet her panties were as she slid them
up her legs.  She had definitely enjoyed the rush she had gotten stripping
for her new boss, the thrill of it, the humiliation of it; she knew how red
her face looked, she had seen it staring back at her in the mirror.

   Dressed and with a second job Kimberly rushed home.

   She masturbated to two satisfactory orgasms reliving the excitement of
stripping for a stranger; hell, she thought, she didn't even catch his
name. More importantly, she smiled, I can keep my house.  With luck, I can
keep my house.

   5

   "I really hate her," Sharon Reed said to herself as she watched that
bitch Kimberly Turner enter her classroom.  She stared at the closed
classroom door fuming over what she knew was going on in there.  Kimberly's
students were listening to her; being quiet; obeying her.  That was what
bothered her the most, she knew.  Somehow little miss perfect tits had her
students obeying her.  They would sit obediently listening to their young
teacher.  They would raise their hands and ask pointed, intelligent
questions about the subject matter.  Sharon heard nothing but rude jokes
and useless queries about irrelevant subjects and her kids, no her kids did
not listen.

   Sharon walked down the English Departments hallway and peered into
Kimberly's class.  There she sat behind her desk smiling as she engaged her
students in their lecture.  The students participated and did not mock. 
How had the bitch pulled that off, she fumed.  Shaking her head and walking
away in anger she could hear the commotion from her own classroom full of
monkeys.

   Again, as she entered her own unruly class she could only think, "I hate
that bitch."

   6

   "Hi," she heard a young woman say as she entered the dressing room from
the rear of the building, passing through a maroon curtain.  "You must be
the new girl."

   "Yeah, hi.  I'm Kimberly." She had to really listen to the young woman
as loud music poured into the room making it hard to hear.

   "I'm Robin but everyone calls me Rascal, it's what I go by on stage. 
Have you picked your stage name yet?"

   She shook her head, "no."

   "Well, we need to think of something.  You don't want people knowing
your real name, do you?  I know one girl that did that and two days later
she had to change her phone number.  You wouldn't believe some of that
calls she got and at all hours of the day and night.  People can be real
sickies if you ask me."

   Kimberly could not imagine receiving so many unsolicited phone calls all
with her naked body being the topic of conversation.  She had never given
any thought to why strippers always seemed to have names like Bubbles, or
Candi and now she did.  "Thanks, Rascal," Kimberly said.

   "No problem." She stopped and listened to the throbbing music die down
from the main dance floor.  "That's my cue," she said and dropped her robe
so that she was standing there in just a small pink bra and panty set. 
"Time to shake my thing." Rascal turned and walked out playfully shaking
her ass as she did.

   Kimberly opened an empty locker and pulled a small lock from her purse.
She locked her purse away and waited for her boss to come find her.  She
sat thinking of names, quickly discarding names like Bambi and Candi as too
cliché.  Finally she opted for Jaybird; cute, playful and just a tad too
descriptive she thought.

   A few minutes passed and another woman entered from the rear of the
building.  She nodded a greeting and without pausing made her way deeper
into the club.  A moment later the fat man entered the dressing room. 
"Good," he said nodding, "you're here.  You ready for tour?"

   A little to quickly Kimberly said, "yeah."

   He showed her around the club, back up the short hallway past the two
private rooms which he explained is where the girls made most of their
money.  The better they were at flirting and making eye contact as she had
done during her interview, Kimberly remembered with a flash of heated
shame, the more money you could coax from a customer, he explained.

   He led her into the club where a girl Kimberly had not seen was tying
her ankles together with her stockings.  Her breasts were bare and her
panties where pulled down to her knees.  She sat on her naked ass and
danced with her bound feet pointing from one site of the stage to the
other. Walking by Kimberly could see the thin line of her sex as the dancer
raised her tied legs even higher.  There were four men sitting at the stage
and Kimberly could see all of them men waiting anxiously to give the young
dancer some money.

   Kimberly blushed.  All too soon she'd be taking her clothes off for
money.  Without realizing it she grabbed the throat of the yellow blouse
she was wearing.  You can do this; she chided herself, think of your house.

   The fat man introduced her to Tommy, the guy that ran the sound
equipment on weekdays.  Shaking hands, Tom explained he'd pick songs for
you based on what you wanted to do and judging from how the naked and
semi-bound woman on stage shifted her legs with the beat, Kimberly reasoned
he knew what he was doing.  She thanked him and followed the fat man across
the darkened room, only the stage was brightly lit.  They passed the main
entrance to her left being guarded by two very large men that the fat man
ignored and stopped at the bar directly in front of them.

   "This is Carlos," the fat main said, and Kimberly shook his hand as she
had Tommy's.  "He mixes the drinks.  You share tips with him and he with
you."

   "I remember."

   "Okay.  This way." He led her to the right of the bar and into a short
hallway, behind and to the left of the stage.  There were three doors in
the hallway, one labeled Men's, one labeled Ladies and the third marked as
the office.  They entered the office.

   The man sat as a desk and offered Kimberly as seat in front of him. 
Behind the desk a large wall of computer monitors was hanging; 2 rows of
four displays.  Each was showing a scene in the club, Kimberly could easily
recognize the dancer as she stopped and stood up, her legs now untied and
her black stockings hanging around her neck.  She could see the parking lot
in one monitor, the stage and bar in another and two rooms she had not seen
before, one empty and the other currently occupied by Rascal and a man
receiving a very intimate dance in the other.

   The fat man, David he said his name was, showed her the paperwork that
she needed to fill out.  She was surprised about an emergency contact page
and about the W-2; she had not thought of paying taxes with this job. 
David explained everything to her, telling her that her salary was indeed
taxed but she didn't really make any money with tips, right?

   Kimberly understood.

   Twenty minutes later, both private rooms empty and the parking lot
filling up she was escorted back to Tommy where her first dance was
arranged and her songs chosen.  Finally she heard announced by Tommy in a
surprisingly melodic voice, "let's give a big hand to Jaybird."

   Blushing, Kimberly approached the stage.

   7

   Sharon sat at Kimberly's desk and imagined her students as well behaved
as Kimberly's.  She rummaged through the desk and found that most of the
drawers were empty.  The one in the center held pens, pencils and paper,
chalk and a stapler.  The drawer to the right held the course book and
syllabus and a few hand-outs but the two drawers on the left were empty. 
Sharon knew her desk was a cluttered mess.  This realization made her mad,
Kimberly's life was simple and neat while Sharon's was disorganized and
cluttered.  The area under Kimberly's desk was wide and empty and a kick
plate descended all the way to the floor; it was a much nicer desk that
Sharon had.

   She stood up and slammed her fists against the desk, hurting her hand
and making her even angrier.  "The bitch," she muttered.  Turning around
she grabbed a piece of chalk and with large block letters she wrote BITCH
on the chalkboard and then in a rage snapped the chalk in half.

   Slightly mollified Sharon spun from the desk and marched out the door
into the vacant hallways.  She returned to her own desk, finished grading
some papers and made her way outside.  The sun had set, she always seemed
to work late while little Kimmie never seemed to have to.  Walking to her
car she just fumed with anger.  She'd get that bitch.

   8

   "Yes, ma'am," Kimberly said.  "That is what I am proposing.  I know I
did get behind but I have a second job now that pays weekly and I want to
work this out." She listened and made the appropriate replies to the
questions that she was being asked.  "Monday, no wait, Tuesday," she said
knowing she'd be stripping on Monday.

   Kimberly listened as the woman on the phone reiterated their deal. 
Kimberly would make a mortgage payment every 2 weeks instead of monthly
with the first one coming on Tuesday and every other Tuesday following. 
The normal house payments would continue to accrue, each payment being
assigned to the one most in arrears but with the double payments in four
months she'd be current.  If she missed one payment the foreclosure would
continue and only payment in full could stop it then.  Kimberly planned on
stripping for maybe one additional month to get a payment ahead and then
return to single employment at the college.  Listening to the woman on the
phone finish, Kimberly agreed.

   She hung up the phone, satisfied her house was saved.

   9

   Friday morning Sharon watched Kimberly sit demurely at her desk in a
tasteful skirt, matching jacket and white blouse, talking to her student
who sat there and listened and participated.  The chalkboard was clean,
nothing written on it.  She had enjoyed the feeling of writing on it and
wondered what she would write the next time she had the chance.  She
doubted that Kimberly had seen the word BITCH written there but she
secretly hoped she had seen it.  Wouldn't that have been fun; little miss
perfect reacting to being called a bitch...or worse.  Sharon could see it
in her mind and the thought made her shiver.  One day.

   She just could not foresee that today was the day a plan would form.

   10

   Kimberly changed into some comfortable jeans and t-shirt and left her
house towards the strip club.  It was Friday night, her first Friday and
the other girls, Rascal being the nicest, explained that Friday nights were
the best nights.  Carlos made the drinks stronger and with cash burning in
men's jeans it was easy to get them to agree to most anything.  All of the
dancers agreed that each week, Friday was the most lucrative.

   The day before had gone as well as could have been expected, Kimberly
thought.  She got through the first three songs, had a stiff drink (on the
house) and a man had approached her for a private dance.  After that, with
her pussy wet from the exhibitionism and eroticism of her job and with the
money flowing she had been able to don her clothes and once again take them
off.  Three times that night she had slid her damp panties up her legs just
to slide them off during the second song.  That was how it was.  First
song; strip to bra and panties.  Second song, strip nude and third song
strut your stuff.  It was a choreographed act, and she could feel her pulse
in her pussy and the throbbing of the music in her ears.

   Now, driving to the club, she had some extra outfits from home.  The
slutty and revealing clothing that her ex-husband liked to choose for her
when they went out.  Just packing those for the ride to work had caused her
skin to tingle and her clit throb.  She was surprised she was looking
forward to stripping again.

   She turned onto the main road that lead across town and only a blaring
horn pulled her from her musings.  She looked around and waved to no one in
particular, not noticing who she had just cut off.

   11

   Sharon recognized Kimberly and seethed, "that bitch!" Turning right
instead of left, Sharon followed Kim, today she would give that little
whore the full weight of her wrath.

   Watching Kimberly pull into the strip club and walk into the back
door...the employee's door...  stopped Sharon in her tracks.  She didn't
work here, did she?  Oh, if she did.  And Sharon's mind went into
overdrive.

   12

   "Can I talk to you, Kimmie?" Sharon asked Kimberly from the doorway of
Kim's classroom.

   Kimberly knew that Sharon did not like her, and she did not know why. 
She had always been polite and cordial, but after the first year teaching
here she had given up trying to be friends and had simply stayed out of
Sharon's way.  Let each just get along without the other, Kimberly had
thought.  "Sure, Sharon, what do you need, and please, I've asked you not
to call me Kimmie."

   Sharon stepped into Kim's empty classroom, the students having gone for
the day, and shut the door.  "You don't like it when I call you Kimmie,
Kimmie?" Sharon mocked.  "I think, with what I have planned for you, being
called Kimmie will be the one thing that you probably won't mind me doing?
Do I have your attention, Kimmie?"

   "Sharon, listen, I don't know what your problem with me is, but..."

   "Shut up, Kimmie!" Sharon shouted at her, the vitriol dripping off her
tongue like poison from a snake's fangs.  "Shut up you little whore." It
felt good to wield this power, Sharon felt her nipples harden in
excitement.

   "Get out!" Kimberly stood in defiance.

   "Why, Jaybird, is that anyway to talk to your new best friend?"

   Kimberly looked at Sharon speechless; she knew.  The woman that hated
her knew?  "Jaybird?" She asked, feigning confusing.

   "Yes, your stage name.  I have some great pictures of you.  And your
boss, David, he let me have a couple of nice video tapes.  Did you know
they tape everything done in the back rooms in case of a lawsuit?  It's
really remarkable, the quality of the video.  You'd have to see it.  Or
maybe you don't."

   "Look, Sharon," Kim began.

   "That's Miss Reed to you.  My little shit students don't have to be
respectful to me, but you do.  Got it?"

   Kimberly hung her head; her mind was racing, her heart pounding in
dread. This woman hated her and her tone of voice more than proved it. 
Resigned, and a little desperate, she whispered, "yes, Miss Reed."

   "That's better.  First, let me show you a few things.  Then, we will go
have a nice dinner; you'll buy of course, as we talk about your future. 
How does that sound?"

   Sharon crossed the room and held a stack of photographs out to Kimberly.
Her hands were shaking as she took them.  She flipped through the pictures;
all of them were of her.  There were pictures of her removing a thin,
see-through dress and revealing her naked tits and pantied crotch.  She
couldn't believe it; this picture was from Monday night, two days ago. 
There were pictures of her walking into and out of the employee entrance,
and there were more pictures of her naked and on stage, squatting with her
feet nearly touching and her knees spread wide; in that picture you could
see all of her, her pussy gaping and the thin line of her pubic hair
pointing towards her open sex.

   "Well, what do you think?"

   "Sharon..."

   "What?"

   "Miss Reed, I can explain," it sounded lame, even to Kimberly.

   "And I can't wait to hear it.  Put the pictures in your desk and let's
go.  Let's hope no one goes snooping." She laughed at how pale Kimberly
looked.  If that embarrassed her, Sharon thought, she was going to have a
rough time with what I have planned.  Sharon so hoped leaving the pictures
behind embarrassed her.

   Swallowing hard, her mind racing with dread, Kimberly put the pictures
in the center drawer, stood and followed Sharon out of the school and to
the faculty parking lot.  "You'll ride with me, of course.  Can't have you
wondering off and getting lost now, can I?" She laughed at Kimberly;
enjoying the mocking tone she was using.

   Sharon got into the car and as Kimberly opened the passenger side door
Sharon stopped her, "you ride in the back, you don't' deserve to ride up
here with me."

   Kimberly shut the passenger door and climbed into the back.  She looked
up at Sharon and could see how pleased Sharon was with herself.  How could
I be so stupid, she thought.  What was I thinking.  Then, without warning,
my house.  I'm going to lose the house.  She choked back her tears.

   Sharon nearly came as she watched the terror and nervousness play over
Kimmie's face.  It was too good, too perfect.  And, it was just going to
get better.

   13

   The restaurant wasn't crowded, and Kimberly and Sharon had a booth in
the back corner.  They had finished eating and were now just chatting.  The
closest table was a family of four three booth's down.  Kimberly was
wearing a cream blouse with orchids all along the left sleeve and a gray
knee-length skirt and smart, black shoes with a modest 2-inch heel.  Sharon
was dressed in a brown pant-suit with a white blouse.  They looked like two
professional women having a business meeting; sadly, for Kimberly, the
business was not kind.  "I have you by the sparse hairs, don't I Kimmie?"
Sharon asked.

   Kim could only nod.

   "So, why are you spreading your legs, you get off on it?"

   "Yes," she said, paused, looked at the surprise in Sharon's eyes and
stammered, "no, I need to...shit."

   Sharon laughed at Kimberly and definitely heard her say yes to the
question if she got off on exposing herself.  We'll see, she thought. 
"Take your time, Kimmie."

   She took a sip of water and said, "I need the money.  I don't make
enough working as a third-year teacher, you know, and with my divorce I got
behind on my house payments.  If I don't pay a payment every two weeks they
are going to foreclose on me and take the only thing I have.  It's only
part-time and only for a few months until I get caught up.  Please, don't
tell anyone."

   Begging, the little bitch was begging her.  It was just perfect.  "Why
not?  What's in it for me?" Sharon was toying with her, goading her,
humbling her and Sharon was savoring the power.  "It's not like I need the
money, I'm actually pretty well off, thank you.  What do I get out of
keeping your secret?  Let me think." She watched the tears threaten to
spill from Kimberly's eyes.

   "Please, Miss Reed."

   "Let's see, third year, right?"

   Kimberly nodded.

   "You don't have tenure.  That can't be good.  You could get fired for
this and then the only job you'd have is a stripper.  Seems a poor career
choice for a college-educated woman like yourself.  I don't like you, so
you being gone," she shook her head with a loud smacking sound, "seems like
a good thing for me.  I don't know.  What do you think?"

   Tears fell from her eyes as she pleaded, "please.  Please." It was all
she could say and hearing it Sharon felt her pussy throb with the power she
had over Kimberly.

   "On second thought, it would be fun to have a play-toy; a Barbie-Doll; a
slave." Sharon snapped her fingers.  "That's it.  You do what I say, when I
say, where I say, with whom I say and I'll keep your secret.  I promise
you, you won't like it, but it's not about what you'll like is it?  You
obey me, like I wish my students did," her voice turned hard, she was no
longer playing with Kimberly, she was laying down the law, "and I will keep
your secret.  You will never tell me no, got it.  No matter how
humiliating, horrifying or perverse you think I'm being, you will obey. 
You will wear what I tell you to wear, strip when I tell you to strip and
anything else I can think of.  You do this and I'll keep the pictures and
video's I have as well as the new pictures and video's we're gonna take a
secret.  I will embarrass you, make you wish you had never seen me until I
get sick of this game and then I'll leave you alone, got it?  You'll be my
dress up doll and my whore.  You'll be my slave.  If you behave, I'll
mostly leave you alone on campus and if you disobey me I'll punish you. 
When you've had enough walk away and I'll distribute everything I have on
you to the Dean that day.  Got it?"

   Kimberly was openly crying now.  How could this happen?  Sharon hated
her, she could hear it in her voice and could see the laughter in her eyes.
What choice did she have?  If she told Sharon no, she would lose her job
and then her house.  She couldn't let that happen, not when she was working
so hard to save it.  She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse and
nodded meekly.

   "What was that Kimmie?  Do I have a new slave?"

   "Yes, Miss Reed." She choked on the words.  She hated how weak she
sounded.

   "What color are your panties?"

   Kimberly looked at Sharon, staring into the malicious eyes and knew what
her life would be like.  But, she reasoned, only until I have the house
current, then I can quit my stripper job and maybe work it out.  Maybe. 
"Black, Miss Reed."

   "Take them off."

   Kimberly stood up and turned from the table.  "Where do you think you're
going?" Sharon asked with smiling eyes.

   "To do as you said.  To remove my...my panties."

   "Did I tell you to get up?  No, I'm pretty sure I didn't.  I said take
your panties off.  Since you want to show everyone that you're doing it,
then take them off there, standing up.  Now!"

   Red faced and scared Kimberly glanced at the table with the family
eating.  They were not watching her and since she had paid the bill, Sharon
had insisted, the waitress probably would not be back.  She exhaled,
glanced around nervously, and shimmied her skirt higher.  She reached up
under her skirt and grabbed the side of her panties.  She slid them down
her legs, stepped out of them and quickly straightened her skirt.  Her face
burned with the humiliation of removing her panties and as had happened
with her ex-husband, her panties were wet.

   "Very nice," Sharon said her own crotch growing damp at watching the
bitch humiliate herself, "now, have a seat.  Put your panties on the table,
spread out.  We don't want to hide what they are in a ball, now do we?"

   "No, Miss Reed."

   "Now, we are going to go to your house where we are going to lay down
some ground rules for you to follow.  And by we, I mean me of course.  You
will obey every one of them.  If I find out you disobey even one rule you
will be punished.  The ultimate punishment, of course, is your precious
house.  Any other punishment will be bad, but you'll have your home. 
Understood?"

   Kimberly nodded.

   "Let's go, and the panties stay here.  I'm sure one of the staff will
masturbate with them tonight.  Isn't that fun?"

   Red-faced and surprisingly horny, Kim followed Sharon out of the mall.

   Chapter 2

   1 Kimberly sat in the back of Sharon's car, Miss Reed's car, and
trembled with fear.  She had been both embarrassed and excited by removing
her panties at the restaurant.  It was the same thrill she had gotten when
she'd done the same with her ex-husband.  It was thrilling and scary, fun
and horrifyingly humiliating.  And she enjoyed it.  In her first three days
as a stripper, while it was fun, to Kimberly it was not particularly
embarrassing; one was supposed to see naked women at strip clubs; it was
just a job.  It was the risk involved with public exposure, where nudity
was not supposed to happen that excited her and Sharon had let her know
that for Kimberly, she was to expect it.

   Could she?  That was the question that ran through her mind and the
thought that she could terrified her.  Not that Sharon would make her,
Kimberly was certain that she would.  In her mind she heard Sharon say,
"You will wear what I tell you to wear, strip when I tell you to strip and
anything else I can think of." Kimberly knew she should not go along, that
she should just take her chances with the Dean of the college.  There were
worse things that she could have been doing to get herself fired.  Was a
second job at a strip club offensive enough to the college administration
to warrant her firing?  If she had tenure, a fact that Sharon had so
gleefully pointed out that she did not, then this would just end with a
warning with the promise that the stripping would end.  Still, would the
same punishment not be issued to a non-tenured employee?  Kimberly was not
sure.

   Her house.  That is what it came down to.  No matter what, if she
disobeyed Sharon, then the pictures would be distributed to the Dean and a
decision as to her job would be decided and either way, fired from the
college or not, she'd lose one of her two jobs and right now she needed
both.

   She raised her head from her hands and watched Sharon watching her.  It
was apparent that Sharon hated her and she knew that she'd suffer as
Sharon's play toy.  Again, could she do it?  She knew she had to try, no
matter how humiliating, she had to try.

   2

   Sharon drove back to the college to allow the bitch to fetch her car. 
During the drive she watched Kimberly carefully in the rear-view mirror. 
She could see the questions, fear and doubt race through the woman's mind
as tears fell and wrinkles formed around her eyes and across her forehead.
Kimberly was suffering and Sharon liked it.

   While Kimberly was thinking could she, Sharon was wondering would she?

   She had a few ideas and knew that plenty more would be forthcoming and
it all come down to what Kimberly feared most; losing her house or losing
her dignity.  She hoped the latter.

   3

   "Give me your skirt."

   Sharon and Kimberly stood next to Kim's car with the driver's door
standing open.

   "But..."

   "Shut up!  Listen you little whore, this is not open to debate,
discussion, or consideration.  You do what I tell you, got it.  I thought
we went through this.  We're going to your precious house, I'm following
you.  Without a skirt, you're not apt to go anyplace else, right?  Give me
the skirt.  Now!"

   Nervously looking around, Kimberly unbuttoned her skirt and dropped it
down her legs.  With her panties at the restaurant, she was naked from the
waist down.  This was different than stripping at the club; to Kimberly,
this was much worse.  The parking lot was deserted save for their two cars
and the only lights lit on campus were parking lot lights and lights at all
the entrance points to the buildings.  Still, she was respected here and
this was a public venue where nudity was not the norm.  She blushed as she
picked up her skirt and threw it in her car.

   "No," Sharon said to Kim, "give me the skirt.  Can't have you covering
up for the drive home."

   She bent over, her pussy peeking at Sharon from between her legs.  She
grabbed her skirt, stood, and held it out to Sharon.

   "Nice ass," Sharon mocked.  "And it smells like you like this."

   Kimberly stepped back against the open car door and covered her pussy
with her hands, her blush deepening at Sharon's words.

   Sharon laughed.  "I'll follow you to your house.  Don't drive too fast.
I'd hate to see you get pulled over." Still laughing, Sharon went to her
car as Kimberly climbed in hers.

   4

   Sharon pulled in behind Kim's car and laughed as Kim ran, half-naked,
from her driveway to the front door.  She was enjoying Kimmie's discomfort
and humiliation.  She grabbed her camera from the glove box and walked to
Kim's door smiling as Kim hid just inside.  Sharon stepped into Kim's house
and laughed again as Kimberly quickly shut the door as if she could banish
her shame with that one quick move.

   "First," Sharon said as she pointed the camera at Kim, "strip off the
rest of your clothes."

   Kim stared at the camera, wondering how much worse that would make
things.  Here, inside her home, she figured not much.  She unbuttoned her
blouse and dropped it to the floor as Sharon snapped pictures.  She
unhooked her bra and it fell to the floor and Sharon snapped more pictures.
Sharon took pictures of Kim from all sides and angles.

   Kim, for her part, stood there motionless, her hands at her sides.  She
felt her shame increase with each artificial sound the digital camera made
to indicate another moment was captured.  Kim's nipples were hard and she
could feel the arousal in her wet sex; if Sharon were not here she would
not hesitate to drop to the ground with her clothes and masturbate.

   Sharon snapped a few more pictures and then said, "do you have a small
rug?"

   Kimberly nodded.

   "Fetch it."

   Kimberly ran through an archway behind her, deeper into the house and
came back with a soft, white bathroom rug.

   "Very nice," Sharon said pleased with how well this was going.  The
bitch really did want to save her house and so Sharon figured that Kim
would indeed obey her.  This was going to be so fun, she thought.  "Now,
set it down on the ground next to the door."

   Kim obeyed.

   "Let's get a tour of the house, start here and end at your bedroom."

   Kimberly looked at the rug, wondering what it was for.  Seeing Sharon
stand quietly, with her camera held in front of her, Kim reasoned she'd
know in time.  "This way," Kim said.

   The foyer had three archways that led into the house.  The first led
left to a large living room that had a modest sized TV.  and a small
loveseat.  Sharon remembered that Kim had said she'd been recently divorced
and that explained why there was not a lot of furniture to be seen.  Off of
the living room a small hallway led to two small bedrooms and a full-sized
bath.  Each of the two bedrooms had a bed, one twin and one queen, and each
had a dresser; both rooms were clean.  The bathroom was tidy and an ocean
scene adorned the shower curtain.  A pair of doors stood open with a washer
and dryer tucked into a tidy closet.  This side of the house, Kim
explained, was unused with the exception of the laundry nook.  Kim led
Sharon back into the living room to an attached kitchen.  The kitchen was
well stocked with an island sink.  The stove sat along the back wall with a
small window overlooking a dark yard.  Across from the sink one archway led
back to the foyer where Kim's clothes still sat.  Trotting naked across the
kitchen Kim pointed out the dining room that held a small dinette set and
the third archway leading to the foyer.

   Off of the corner where the kitchen joined the dining room a set of
double doors stood.  Kim opened them and escorted Sharon into the master
bedroom.  A large bed sat along the back wall sandwiched by two end-tables.
A stately dresser with a large mirror sat to the right of the bed.  Kim
could see her naked body in the mirror with Sharon snapping pictures behind
her.  The contrast of her nudity against Sharon's smartly dressed
appearance caused her sex to pulse with need; she was both embarrassed and
aroused.

   Across from the bed a short hallway led to the master bathroom.  Two
walk in closets merged off the hallway and an open door led into the master
bath.  The bathroom had an enclosed toilet on one side with an enclosed
shower on opposite and a large sunken Jacuzzi tub dominated the back wall.
It was a fairly nice house and Sharon understood why Kimberly wanted to
keep it.

   Sharon walked back to the bedroom and Kimberly followed.  "Are you
horny?" Sharon asked.

   Shamefaced, Kimberly nodded.

   "Then lie down and masturbate for me." Sharon commanded and waited. 
This was going to be a great test, she thought.  If Kim does this, then she
is mine.  Sharon raised the camera.

   Kim hesitated, stepped towards the bed, stopped and then with a small
sigh climbed into bed.  Her hands dropped along her naked breasts,
caressing them.  They were firm, not small but not huge with dark pink
nipples pointing upwards like a soldier at muster.  Kim caressed her
breasts and pinched her nipples and then slid her hands lower.  Her fingers
reached her needy sex, her legs drifting wide apart, and Sharon disappeared
from her mind as she quickly brought herself off with a noisy orgasm.

   The entire four minutes, Sharon snapped pictures.

   With her need reduced Kimberly opened her eyes and snapped her legs
closed.

   "Open them," Sharon commanded.

   Kimberly slid her legs apart, her pussy staring at Sharon's camera.

   "You are very pretty," Sharon said, "and I am going to have so much fun
showing you off."

   Kimberly lay still, her legs parted, her hands at her side, waiting for
Sharon to tell he what to do.  She was blushing still and while her
immediate need had been met she could feel her arousal starting to climb
again.

   "In a minute we're going to go through all your clothes.  I will decide
what you can keep and modify and what will be thrown away.  You are going
to have a lot of new rules and a new dress code to keep up with.  If I find
you disobey me, then these pictures, "she indicated the camera, "will be
posted all over campus.  I am going to make you do some very embarrassing
things, things I know I'd not want to do, to test you.  If you want to keep
these pictures private and if you really want to keep your house, I'd think
twice before you disobeyed me, got it?"

   Kim could only nod.

   "Good.  You're going to help me humiliate you, too.  Isn't that fun? 
You are going to ask me very politely, starting with 'Miss Reed, to
humiliate me' and ending with something humiliating and you're going to do
it every time we are together.  Got it?"

   "Yes, Miss Reed."

   "Now, that rug in the foyer.  Do you know what it is for?"

   "No, Miss Reed."

   "That rug is the only place in this house that you are allowed to wear
clothes.  This is the first rule, so make sure you remember it.  When you
get home, and assuming you have clothes on, you will step onto the rug,
strip, and then you can step off it.  When you are leaving the house, you
will carry your clothes with you to the rug, then you can get dressed and
leave the house.  And this is only when entering and exiting the house.  If
the doorbell rings, you're not leaving, so you're not dressing.  Now, what
is your first rule?"

   "That I am only allowed clothing in the house on my dressing rug and
then only when entering and exiting my house," Kimberly shuddered with the
exciting humiliation of it.  And the words "assuming you have clothes on,"
made her pussy clench in nervous expectation.

   "Dressing rug, I like it.  Now, that pubic hair has to go.  When do you
work at the club next?"

   "Tomorrow, Miss Reed.  I work Monday's, Thursday's and Friday's."

   "Good.  Tomorrow, for your first act, you will come out with a chair
wearing a bra and panties only.  For the first dance, you will strip to
nothing.  When the second song comes, I want you to grab a razor, a bowl of
water, shaving cream and a towel and on stage with all those men watching,
you are to shave your pubic hair all off.  Got that?"

   Kimberly surprised herself as she said, "Miss Reed, to humiliate me, can
I please shave my pussy on Friday?  There are always more people at the
club on Friday's?" It seemed a very tame start.

   Sharon almost grabbed her own pussy with the power she was wielding over
Kimberly.  This was working out much better than she had hoped.  She had
not expected it to go as far as it had, to be perfectly honest with herself
and to hear Kimberly obeying and actually within minutes, using the words
she had been ordered to use, coming up with a way to add to her
humiliation, Sharon almost swooned.  She knew she had dominant tendencies
and now having a woman, one she did not particularly like, obeying her, it
was almost too much.

   "Yes," Sharon said.  "And that covers this time we're together.  Very
good, Kimmie." Sharon really hadn't expected anything from Kimberly
tonight; she thought she might be pushing too hard.  Maybe not.

   "Now.  Stand up; you look like a slut with your legs spread like that."

   Kimberly shook at her words; Sharon was the reason her legs were spread
so wantonly.  She bit her tongue and climbed to her feet.  Sharon sat.

   "I want you to grab every pair of panties that you own and be quick
about it."

   Kimberly knew where this was going; it was one of the games she had
liked to play with her ex-husband.  He often controlled what panties she
wore or did not wear.  Kimberly made her way to the dresser and opened the
top drawer.  She pulled out all the panties inside, opened the second
drawer and grabbed a few more pairs, the second set much smaller and more
revealing.  She placed the panties on the bed.

   "Now," Sharon said.  "We are going to make three piles.  One will be
your stripper panties.  One will be your granny panties and the third will
be your work panties.  Show me each pair and I'll tell you one, two or
three.  Begin."

   One by one Kimberly held up the panties.  The G-strings, thongs and boy
short panties were all put in one pile, the conservative panties, the kind
that Kim wore to the doctor, were in the second pile.  When they were
finished there were only two piles.

   "Go grab some garbage bags and a gym bag if you've got one," Sharon
commanded.

   Kim obeyed.

   "Now, put all these panties," Sharon indicated the colorful pile of sexy
panties, "in the gym bag.  You will take these to the strip club.  Put the
rest in a garbage bag."

   It dawned on Kim that there were no other panties; the ones that Sharon
had said would be for work.  "Miss Reed," Kim said, "what about work."

   Sharon laughed.  The laugh instantly reminded Kim that Sharon was not
her friend; that Sharon was not having fun with her.  The laugh was full of
malice.  "That's just it, Kimmie.  Panties are not something you get to
wear, ever.  Well, that's not true.  I find it more humiliating to let you
wear panties as a stripper.  Each night you dance, you can wear a pair of
panties for the first song.  Imagine how good they're gonna feel as you
slide them on.  You'll feel normal for what, five minutes.  Then, you get
to take them right off.  I want you to remember what it's like to wear
panties, that way you can miss not wearing them the rest of the time. 
Isn't that great?  And it gets better.  Your panties are gonna be
souvenirs. After you take them off, with the music playing and all eyes on
you, I want you to give your panties to a guy in the audience.  Not just
any guy, the guy who tips you least during your dance.  I wonder how long
it takes for people to figure that out.  Don't tip, get panties.  How much
money will that make you?"

   No, Kim thought, I am doing this because I need the money.  "Please,
Miss Reed, I need the money.  Let me give them to the biggest tipper." She
was debasing herself now, dropping to her knees and begging Sharon not to
hurt her this way.

   "No!  That's final.  But you do beg nice.  Maybe it won't be too bad. 
Maybe no one will catch on and if they do, they'll think you're just trying
to coax some cash from him."

   Kim was really scared now, what seemed fun and just a tad risky was
getting too real.  But, she thought, choking back a sob, I can't stop now.
Her pussy was dripping.

   Sharon continued, "Next, bras are a thing of the past, throw them all
away."

   Kim scampered to obey, worrying about working at the college without a
bra.  She kept quiet.

   "Now, your legs.  They will not be covered again.  All pants, shorts,
jeans, sweats, anything with legs gets put in a trash bag.  Got it?"

   Kim was nearly in tears as she went throughthe dresser and then the dual
walk in closets, packing her clothes, half of which she got with her
emergency fund after the divorce, into the white garbage bags.  When she
was done, she returned to the bed where Sharon was sitting.

   "I don't want you to get fired, actually," Sharon said, admitting it to
herself for the first time, "where's the fun in that.  So I'll let you keep
most of your tops for now, but from this day forward, we're carpooling. 
I'll come by every morning and help you dress for work.  Then I'll drop you
off after work unless I have some fun planned for us.  Now, grab all your
skirts."

   To Kim, it just kept getting worse.  She had started to warm to the idea
of playing these games with Sharon, but now she realized that it wasn't a
game.  To Kim it was something she had to do to keep her house.  To Sharon
it was a game; a game that only Kim could lose.  Kimberly gathered up all
her skirts and spent twenty minutes trying them on for Sharon.  The skirts
were sorted into three piles, unlike the panties that had only been divided
into two.  The first pile of skirts was thrown away; they were too long and
conservative and that was not allowed.  The second pile contained exactly
three skirts.  Kim had blushed as she tried them on.  The longest of the
three was twelve inches in length and while it covered her ass and pussy,
she knew she'd consciously have to watch how she moved to prevent revealing
what she was wearing, or not wearing, underneath, the other two were just a
bit shorter with the third revealing the sweet curve of her ass.  The third
pile was skirts that Sharon ordered to be taken to the tailor and have
shortened to twelve inches.  Twelve inches, Sharon explained, was the
maximum length her skirts could be.

   "What about work?" Kimberly was shaking in fear.

   "Don't worry about it; there's no dress code at the college.  Well,"
Sharon was giggling now, "no dress code that the college dictates.  But you
definitely have a dress code.  Stand up and put this on." Sharon handed her
a skirt.  With it on Sharon said, "With your hands straight down, you touch
skin.  That is your dress code.  All skirts and you need to show me all
your dresses next, will have this requirement; with your arms down, your
fingers touch skin.  Got that?  What is your second rule?"

   Tearfully Kimberly squeaked, "With my arms straight down, my fingers
touch skin."

   "Exactly.  Now, like I said.  I don't want you to get fired, but I do
want you to be humiliated and believe me, you will be.  Your students will
get an eyeful but only if you're not careful.  I'll clear your attire with
the Dean; I have tenure and am on the advisory board.  Besides, you have no
choice."

   They went through the dresses and Kimberly got to keep four dresses that
met the second rule.  Each was short and revealing; one was black and
mostly see-through, Kimberly had only worn it once for her ex-husband to a
swinging function.  One was bright green and tight, wearing it, Kimberly
would definitely stand out.  The third was basically two short pieces of
velvet with a lattice-work of strings holding the front and back together
and keeping the sides open.  The last was totally see-through and wearing
it Kim's lack of panties and brassiere would be evident.

   Besides, you have no choice.  Kimberly kept hearing that in her mind and
her legs nearly buckled; that was the part that she got off on and why the
strip club did not bother her.  At the club, she had a choice, the power to
remove and arouse.  With Sharon, she had no power, she could only obey; she
had no choice.  Her face flushed with arousal, not embarrassment over those
words.

   "Now," Sharon said.  "Put the bags in my car.  Hurry up.  Put the
clothes from the rug in the bag, too."

   Kim grabbed the first bag when Sharon interrupted her, "take that dress
off.  We've seen your clothes, and you wear nothing in the house,
remember?"

   Kim started to protest and then thought better of it.  She removed the
dress and naked took the four bags of "garbage" to Sharon's car including
the blouse and brassiere by the front door.  She returned to find Sharon
putting the approved clothes in the smaller of the two walk in closets. 
The larger one was now totally empty save as even Kim's shoes were moved to
the smaller closet.  "Your clothes are so small; you don't need the big
closet do you?"

   "No, Miss Reed," Kim said with her head bowed low.  It would be another
reminder of her place, Kim thought, like the panties at the strip club.

   "Now then," Sharon looked at the blushing and still aroused Kim, "do you
have a cell phone?"

   "No, Miss Reed," Kim admitted.  "I could not afford one and it's just a
luxury."

   "Well then, I'll pick you up tomorrow for work and dress you, my little
Kimmie Doll.  Then, after work we're going shopping and I'll take you to
the club and I'll stay the whole time watching you, won't that be fun? 
Don't worry about the money, I am well off, as I said, and it's only right
that I buy the clothes I want my Kimmie Doll to wear."

   Kim said nothing; she just sat there with her head bowed in shame and
resignation.  And, she hated to admit it, arousal.

   "Third rule," Sharon said with a grin that hurt Kim, "no masturbating
without an audience, even if that audience is just me.  Got it?  What's the
third rule?"

   "No masturbating without an audience," Kim choked on the words. 
Masturbation was so private, so personal; revealing it was worse to Kim
than the revealing clothing.

   "Very good." I may not know tonight, Sharon thought, as she was certain
that Kim was going to have an orgasm almost as soon as she left, but I'll
know for sure soon enough.  Her mind was spinning with good ideas.  "Now,
walk me to my car." Sharon grabbed the gym clothes full of panties.

   Kim walked Sharon out of her house still naked, looking around to see if
her neighbors were watching.  The houses near her were quiet and still, but
would they stay that way?  She wanted Sharon to hurry.

   "I'll see you tomorrow morning.  Be a dear and count to 100 before you
go inside.  Good night, Kimmie."

   With that Sharon drove home and Kim counted to one hundred in less than
twenty seconds.  She then ran inside, locked the door behind her and sat on
her dressing rug and masturbated.  Twice.

   5

   "Hi, Dean Waters.  Sorry to call so late."

   Dean Waters was a patient man and dedicated to his job; a call this late
did not surprise or bother him.  The conversation did.  When he finished
listening he rubbed his temples and said, "How short are we talking?"

   "Well, if she's not careful, you could tell what color panties she has
on.  I was surprised too, but you know, she just got divorced and has not
been feeling sexy.  That's what she told me anyway over dinner.  I think
she's just trying to find herself again, to feel sexy again.  The students
here are young but almost all of them 18 or older, so they're adults.  I
think the young girls are not helping her ego; she's nearing thirty.  And I
looked; we don't have a dress code per se." Sharon was rushing through her
speech.

   Dean Waters thought it over and reluctantly agreed, "we don't have a
dress code, you are right about that.  She's a good teacher; if she wants
to show off, to feel better about herself, then I guess I'm okay with that
as long as her students don't complain and she keeps doing her job."

   Sharon smiled a toothy smile of victory.  "I'll let her know, Dean
Waters.  Thank you, sir."

   "Good night, Sharon."

   Chapter 3

   1

   Kimberly was sitting on her bed, freshly showered, when the doorbell
rang.  She looked at the clock on the nightstand.  It was twenty till
seven; Sharon was apparently anxious to start Kim's day.  She had not slept
well, the day with Sharon running through her head.  She knew she'd obey
Sharon but was uncertain as to the real reason.  She had been excited by
her near exposure at the restaurant last night and just thinking about
masturbating with Sharon watching was making her pussy moist.  Imagining
the revealing clothing she'd be wearing aroused her and while she hoped her
time on campus would be tame she secretly hoped it wouldn't be as well. 
Was saving her house the icing on the cake or was it merely the meal before
dessert?  She wasn't sure and all night, with sleep just toying with her,
she thought of what she'd be made to do.  She had wondered the day before
if she could and as the doorbell rang again she reasoned that she could. 
She could indeed.

   2

   Sleep had eluded Sharon as well.  Like Kim, Sharon had masturbated to
two wonderful orgasms.  And, like Kim, she had lost sleep playing the day
before over in her mind.  She was certain that she owned Kim and the
feeling of power that swelled in her was enormous.  The thought was
exciting in a way she had never felt.  It was a drug that burned in her
with the fury of a lightning strike.  She owned the bitch; little miss
perfect would obey her.  If the thought of losing her house did not keep
Kim in line, then the thought of releasing the pictures she had of her
would.  The revealing pictures at the strip club were one thing, but the
pictures from yesterday of Kimmie masturbating would definitely keep that
bitch obedient.  It was so personal that Sharon was certain Kim would want
to keep those pictures secret, no matter the cost.

   Smiling, nearly laughing, Sharon rang the bell a second time.

   3

   Kimberly stood naked at her front door and invited Sharon inside.  The
street was empty and Kim held her breath until she shut the door behind
Sharon.

   "Good morning, Kimmie." Sharon was gleeful seeing Kim standing there
nude.

   Kim did not know what to say and so kept quiet.

   "Is that anyway to greet me?  I guess I won't have to take things easy
on you today after all."

   "Good morning, Miss Reed," Kim nearly tripped on the words trying to get
them out.

   "Too late." Sharon was laughing now.  It was just too easy.

   Kim bowed her head.

   "Now, what are your rules?"

   Kim looked at Sharon and recited the rules that she'd been given.

   "Very good, Kimmie," Sharon said and seeing the blush on Kim's face she
knew that the bitch had broken the third rule the night before.  "Now,
let's go and decide what you're going to wear to work today.  Don't forget,
we're going shopping this afternoon." Sharon led Kim to the bedroom and
commanded Kim to stand by the bed.  Sharon remembered the clothing from the
night before and immediately chose the black skirt, just about eleven
inches in length.  She rifled through the blouses and chose a light blue,
long-sleeved blouse with a hemmed collar.  Sharon bent and grabbed a pair
of black pumps with a modest two-inch heel.  "Here you go.  Carry these to
your rug and then get back here."

   Kimberly grabbed the clothes with her nipples hardening at the thought
of wearing the small pile to work.  Could she?  She asked herself again. 
Her pulsing sex answered the question for her.  She placed the clothing on
the rug and hurried back to Sharon.

   "Now, put your hair in a pony-tail and do your make-up just a bit
heavier than normal and be quick about it." She pulled her camera out of
her purse and snapped a few more pictures as Kimberly hastened to obey. 
Sharon wondered how hard it would be to create a web page; she needed some
place to put all these pictures, she reasoned.  "Let's go," Sharon said as
Kim finished with her make-up.  As she had hoped, Kim looked younger with
how she'd done her face and hair.

   Kim stood on the white rug and pulled the skirt up her legs.  She had
only worn the skirt out at night, never during the day and she felt it was
just too short!  She ran her hands along the back and the skirt covered her
ass completely and she was fully covered in the front, but she was very
aware of her lack of panties and she was worried if the fact would be
evident when she sat.  She pulled on the blouse; her nipples were standing
firm and proud and even covered they were the most noticeable thing about
the shirt.  "Please," Kim said, "this skirt is too short for the
classroom."

   "Is that anyway to ask me to embarrass you?" Sharon mocked.  "I think
it's too long.  Stand up with your arms straight down."

   Kim simply hung her head; not wanting to meet Sharon's smiling eyes. 
She held her arms down and as commanded the day before, her middle finger
touched skin.

   "See," Sharon said, "too long.  I think all your fingers need to touch
some skin.  Yes," she was nodding now as if she were agreeing with herself.
"It's definitely too long.  Put your shoes on and let's go."

   Kim obeyed.  She grabbed her keys and purse from a table in the foyer
and followed Sharon outside, locking the door behind her.  She could feel
the cool air of the morning caress her bare legs and tickle under her
skirt. Again, she felt her ass, making sure it was covered.  This was a
clubbing skirt, she thought, not one to wear teaching students.

   Sharon snapped another picture of Kim as the bitch waited to be let into
the car.  Two more pictures captured Kim climbing in the back seat.  Sharon
climbed behind the wheel and turned to look at Kim.  With her crimson face
and hard nipples she was the perfect model of embarrassed arousal.  Sharon
snapped another picture and grinned, "I have another rule for you, Kimmie."

   Kim just looked at her.  "Yes, Miss Reed."

   "Get in the middle of the seat and spread your legs."

   Kim shifted positions and placed a foot on either side of the center
console, her feet about a foot apart.

   "I'm waiting.  And move forward."

   Kim shifted closer to Sharon, her ass nearly to the edge of the seat. 
She spread her legs a bit wider and watching Sharon, she spread them
further until her knees were about two feet apart and her feet nearly
touching the two outer doors.  Her skirt rode up her thighs and her naked
pussy with the thin line of pubic hair was on display.

   Sharon snapped another picture.  "Very good.  Now, every time I say
'spread' this is how you are to move your legs, got it?  I don't care where
we are.  If you're sitting, this is the view I want.  If you're standing,
then your feet had best be two feet apart.  Got it?  Now what's the rule?"

   "When you said 'spread', no matter where we are, then I spread my legs
like this," she could feel her thighs burning with the position she was
holding her knees and she could feel the cool air caress her wet pussy.

   Sharon snapped on last picture and then started the car.  She adjusted
the rear-view mirror to watch Kim.  "Don't close them," she warned.  "I'd
hate to have sitting on your desk like that." The threat was evident. 
Sharon backed from the driveway.

   Kim did not know where to look.  If she looked down, she could see her
wet, naked sex staring up at her and if she looked outside she was certain
that her face was scarlet and her shame and arousal evident and if she
looked forward she could see Sharon watching her with malignant joy.  She
simply closed her eyes, held her legs wide apart and chewed on her lips
nervously.  She was nervous; what would her students think?  Would they
know that under her skirt her pussy was bare?  What would the rest of the
faculty think?  They respected her, would they after they saw how she was
dressed today?  And what of Sharon's comment that her skirt was too long?
Surely she would not have to wear shorter ones to class, would she?

   And, Kim thought, I have to ask to be humiliated more.  It was almost
too much.  But, she reasoned with resolve, her house was worth more.  "Miss
Reed," Kim said, thinking of the previous night and her much needed and
forbidden orgasm, "to humiliate me, may I masturbate?"

   Sharon smiled.  "I don't think I'm gonna count that one, Kimmie," Sharon
said sounding both amused and annoyed at the same time.  "I'm sure you
snuck one in last night which violated the rule about having an audience
when you masturbate and as you're such a slut it isn't really that
humiliating to masturbate, now is it?"

   Kim's face burned in shame as she whispered, "no, Miss Reed."

   "No, indeed.  Now, you need to come up with a better way to have me
humiliate you.  Chop chop." The blush on Kim's face confirmed what Sharon
had thought, Kim had come the night before.

   Kim swallowed, hesitated, and finally said, "May I take my top off?" She
was in the car, she'd be safe.

   "Is that how you ask?" Sharon's voice was cold.

   "Miss Reed, to humiliate me, may I take my top off?"

   "By all means."

   Her face burning, Kim unbuttoned the blouse and pulled it off, baring
her breasts to Sharon and whoever else happened to be looking in as Sharon
drove to the campus across town.  Her nipples were hard nubs and she could
feel the cool air of the car against her damp sex.  Looking up she met
Sharon's gaze.

   "You enjoy this, don't you?" Sharon asked.  "You said so at the
restaurant when you took your panties off.  Wanna tell me about it?  No,"
she could see Kim hesitating, "I think you will.  What do you think?"

   "Yes, Miss Reed," was all she could say.

   "You're divorced; did you do things like this with your husband?  Did
you strip for him in public places?  Did he humiliate you?"

   Still chewing her lower lip, Kim nodded.

   "Where did he embarrass you the most, Kimmie?"

   With a small voice, Kim replied, "Macy's."

   Sharon smiled, "I can't wait to hear all about it, but it's show time."
Sharon put the car in park.  "Put your top on and close your legs.  Do you
want your students to know what a slut you are?"

   Kim's legs snapped together audibly and she hastened to don her blouse,
buttoning it closed all the way to her throat.  To Kim's delight, they had
arrived on campus unseen.  She straightened herself up and as she climbed
from the car she could feel the cool morning air caress her thighs beneath
her skirt.  She looked at the school, the car, Sharon, back to the school
and then ducked down, "please," she begged, "I can't.  I tried, really, but
I...I...."

   Sharon bent down, her face inches from Kim's and hissed, "listen to me
you little bitch.  I don't give a shit what you think you can and can't do.
That is not up to you, anymore.  Got it!  You're going to do this or you're
gonna lose your job and your house; either way I don't care.  This is not a
game, this is about me toying with you because I can.  I tell you what to
do, you do it.  Deal with it.  Now, stand up."

   Crying, Kim stood.

   "Undo the top two buttons."

   "But..."

   "Three buttons."

   Again the fact that Sharon hated her slammed across her consciousness
and with trembling fingers, Kim unbuttoned the top three buttons.  She
looked at herself in the car's window.  The blouse was tidy and nothing
untoward was visible except the spiked points of her nipples pushing
against the silk.  Her legs were mostly bare but, again, nothing that
should not be seen in public was displayed.  She wiped her eyes with her
palm, choked back a dry sob and whispered, "I'm sorry, Miss Reed."

   Sharon's crotch pulsed with the submissiveness Kim displayed.  "If you
ever pull this shit again..." her voice trailed off; she did not need to
elaborate.

   Kim shook her head, "I won't."

   "Now, meet me here after work.  We're going shopping, remember?"

   "Yes, Miss Reed."

   Together, they walked into the English Department wing.

   4

   "Nice duds, Misses Turner."

   The second class of the day began as the first; her students commented
on her attire, laughed at her crimson face and then sat quietly as they
continued their studies.  As the day progressed, fewer and fewer words were
said but to Kim her students seemed a little more unruly.  Normally they
were quiet an well-behaved until she dismissed them, now they all seemed to
be a little more liberal with their comments and twice Kim was certain she
heard the word "slut" whispered from the back of the classroom.  Three
times during the day she had had to admonish the students for their
whispering.  Was it simply because of what she was wearing?  Was her attire
so much a part of her demeanor that when one changed so, too, did the
other? Feeling self-conscious about her bare legs and braless breasts, Kim
was certain the answer was yes.

   "Don't forget," she said to the final class of the day; her students
eyeing her with almost predatory looks, "you all have papers due on
Monday." With that she dismissed them.

   The day had not been too bad.  She had sat at her desk where her legs
were hidden by the modesty panel of her desk that ran to the floor and she
had worn the top to work before.  Typically her nipples weren't so obvious
but she was able to hide them as well with her own book held vertical.  No;
it wasn't too bad.  She could do it.  She could.

   5

   "How was class, Kimmie?" Sharon taunted.

   "Fine, Miss Reed."

   Sharon laughed, "See, I told you that skirt was too long.  Don't worry.
We'll fix that tonight.  Get in, we're going to your place and then
shopping."

   Without being told, Kim climbed in the back.

   Pulling out of the teacher's lot, Sharon said, "spread."

   Kim obeyed silently.

   6

   Standing naked in her bedroom Sharon handed Kim the short, green
mini-dress she had tried on the night before.  "Run this to the door and
grab a pair of scissors."

   Kim hastened to obey.  She dropped the small dress on the white rug by
the door, made her way to the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors and then
walked back to her bedroom where Sharon was sitting on the bed.  "Here you
go, Miss Reed."

   Sharon laughed.  "Those aren't for me, silly.  They're for you.  In
fact, it's a new rule.  Are you ready?  Scissors will be carried in your
purse at all times.  Got it?  You never know when an outfit you are wearing
needs to be modified."

   Blushing, Kim said, "yes, Miss Reed."

   "Now, tell me about Macy's."

   Kim exhaled once and began to speak.

   7

   "Give me your panties."

   Kim looked at her husband and giggled, "you like this, don't you?" She
lifted her butt from the seat of the car and shimmied her skirt higher. 
Her pussy was wet; she enjoyed how he looked at her.  She pulled her skirt
higher feeling a spark of excitement as her fingers tickled along her
thighs.  She slid the skirt upwards until the white lace of her panties was
visible to her husband.  "These?" She was teasing him.  She hooked her
fingers into the waistband and pulled her panties down her legs and held
them on one finger to her husband while her other hand held her skirt,
keeping her pussy exposed to his longing gaze.

   He took the panties from her, held them to his face and breathed in her
scent.  "Very nice," he said.

   Kim trembled at the approving tone.

   He hung her panties from the rear-view mirror, "looks and smells better
than the dumb pine cone."

   Kim laughed and fingered her pussy.  She ran her hands along her sex,
pulled her wet finger from her pussy and tasted herself.  Looking at her
husband she fingered her sex again and this time had him taste her.  She
continued to rub her pussy, her eyes never leaving his.  Her nipples were
hard, happy points and her pussy was sloppy wet.  She enjoyed his reaction;
his eyes were on her more than the road and his shorts did little to reveal
a solid erection.  She tasted herself again and then reached over and
grabbed her husband's crotch through the fabric of his shorts.  "What are
you planning?"

   She knew him; his mind was devious and seldom did she dislike the games
he came up with.  Well, that's not true, she thought.  Seldom did she
dislike the games he came up with when they were alone and together; she
didn't really like the parties with other couples that he would sometimes
drag her to.  Still she went for him; it made him happy.

   "Remember college?"

   How could she forget, she had met him during her sophomore year at a
frat party.  He had introduced himself as Mark and almost immediately they
had hit it off.  So much so that by the end of their second official date
she was imagining their wedding.  He had not mentioned nuptials until date
number five.  During their three years together on campus, they were
inseparable.  It was then that he had introduced her to the finer points of
exposing herself and it was there that she found how much she had enjoyed
it.  Since then, he seemed to always find new and exciting ways for her to
expose herself.  The sex afterwards was always memorable.

   Always.

   "Yeah?"

   "Well," Mark looked at the road, tearing his eyes from his wife's neatly
trimmed pussy, "we're gonna one-up something from then."

   That did not help Kim decide what they were going to do, but she knew
she'd go along.  Like it or not, she always did.

   They pulled into the mall and walked arm in arm into Macy's through an
exterior entrance.  Kim was conscious of her naked pussy under her short
skirt.  She was certain others could smell how excited she was; she knew
she could.  He led her through the store and grabbed a dress from a rack
without looking at the size.  He led her to the fitting rooms and as no one
was watching, scurried into the dressing room with her.  "Give me your
skirt," he said with playful eyes.

   Kim smiled at him, wondering what he was thinking and unfastened her
skirt.  She stepped out of it and handed it to him.  "You liked?" she asked
playfully.

   "I do." He took her skirt, stepped closer to her and cupped her naked
pussy.  "I like very much."

   Kim could feel the heat of his body as her knees buckled, dropping her
sex harder against his probing hand.  She rotated her hips, begging with
her actions for him to take her.

   "Meet me in the car," he said abruptly, his eyes sparkling with
mischief. He left the dressing room carrying her skirt and the decoy dress,
leaving her naked from the waist down wearing only a small tank-top that
barely covered her breasts.

   "Mark," she screeched in a hoarse whisper.

   But he was gone.

   Kim stared open mouthed at the hanging double doors.  Gone.  He had
walked out with her skirt, leaving her naked from the waist down in public.
Her purse was in the car so she could not grab something and quickly don it
and then pay for it.  She'd have to run half-naked and shamed through the
store and outside to the waiting car.  She had streaked the mall parking
lot once in college at Mark's request.  No, not request, at his insistence.
Then, as now, he had left her no choice.  Her pussy throbbed.  Taking a
deep breath, Kim pushed through the double doors.

   Kim ran.

   She ran through the women's department.  Past the skirts and dresses and
shorts and pants; past all the items that would conceal her better than her
hands.  Her left hand held splayed did little to cover her naked ass while
her right hand hid the thin line of pubic hair from the gazing and shocked
looks of the other shoppers.  Voices rang out, taunting her, teasing her.
She could feel the blush burning her cheeks and knew, without looking, that
her face was scarlet.  Catcalls and wolf-whistles attracted more attention
to her nakedness.  Still she ran.

   She darted out of Macy's and ran across the parking lot to where Mark
was sitting in the car laughing at her.  To Kim, it was an evil laugh; he
was being mean.  This was not a game, this was humiliation.  She made it to
the car and climbed in with her face red, her anger high and her pussy
dripping.  The shame and humiliation had excited her.  Mark's response and
laughter infuriated her.

   There was no sex that night.

   8

   Sharon was laughing, tears streamed down her face.  "That's priceless,"
she said.  She coughed, gasping for breath.  She wiped her damp eyes.

   "It was so humiliating.  The looks, the catcalls.  All of it.  I never
want to do that again!"

   Sharon bared a toothy smile, "I'll never force you to be bottomless in a
Macy's." Totally nude, she thought, well, that's a different story, isn't
it?  Is tonight too early?  She wasn't sure.  "Let's go.  We need to get
you a phone and some more clothes before you go to the club." Sharon stood
and led Kim to the front door.  She watched as Kim dressed and together
they left the house, Kim locking the door behind them.

   Sharon climbed in the car.  She watched Kim get in the back seat.  Kim
sat in the middle and kept her legs demurely closed, her knees clamped
together.  Sharon just looked at Kim through the rear-view mirror.  Kim did
not notice, her eyes were downcast; the memory of her streaking Macy's
still playing in her mind.  After a few moments, Kim lifted her eyes and
seeing Sharon staring she parted her thighs, feeling the lime-green dress
lift higher along her thighs until her pussy was exposed and open.

   Sharon backed down Kim's driveway and wordlessly drove to the mall. 
"Get out," Sharon commanded.

   Kim followed Sharon into the mall.  Her dress was short and tight and
revealing.  It followed Sharon's rule, all of her fingers touched skin with
her arms hanging down.  The dress ended just below the swell of her ass and
there was only about two inches of material hanging below her pussy.  The
top was tight, her breasts outlined perfectly.  The color was lime green
and bright and wearing it, Kim stood out like a flashlight in the dark. 
Her head held low, Kim followed Sharon.

   The first stop was Abercrombie and Fitch, the store known for selling
clothes to young teenagers, not women nearing thirty.  The store was full
of teens and photos of bare-chested boys adorned the wall next to pictures
of bikini clad young girls.  Kim tried to hide amongst the racks of small,
tight clothes, but Sharon would have none of it.  "Get over here," she
commanded, her voice loud enough to draw the attention of the other
shoppers.  When they had entered the noise within the store had dropped,
Kim blushed, knowing that they were being watched.  No, she corrected, Kim
knew that she was being watched.

   "Try this on," Sharon said, holding a small, denim skirt up to Kim.

   Kim grabbed it and turned towards the changing room.

   "Again?"

   Confusion played over Kim's face.  "Miss Reed?"

   "Did I say go to the changing room?  No.  I said, try it on.  Here. 
Now!"

   Kim wanted to scream in frustration but instead she simply hung her
head. She stepped into the shirt and fastened it around the waist of her
dress.  With the button fastened and the skirt zipped, she pulled her dress
free of the denim, folding the hem of the dress upwards across her breasts.
She could feel the cool air of the store caressing her thighs and the hem
of the skirt cut across the lower half of her now semi-revealed butt.  The
skirt barely covered the apex of her thighs.

   "Turn around and bend over."

   Kim obeyed wanting this nightmare to end.  Let's go, let's go, let's go,
her mind chanted.  Oh, please, let's go.

   Bent as Kim was Sharon could see Kim's pussy peeking from between her
thighs, the skirt riding even higher on Kim's ass until leaving her totally
exposed.

   Kim's legs nearly buckled when she heard Sharon say, "spread."

   Kim inched her legs apart.  Her pussy was wet and the air was cold
against it.  Still she spread her legs, until she stood, bent over, her
feet nearly three feet apart.  She was displaying herself to whomever
walked by.  Her pussy was open and wet, arousal and shame kept her cheeks
cherry with color.  Nothing was hidden from view; her private parts were no
longer private and unlike the strip club, Kim was definitely not in
control.

   The store was silent, all eyes watching her lurid display and Kim
wondered which was worse: the silence now, all voices rendered mute by her
display, or the catcalls she had heard when she had streaked Macy's due to
her ex-husband and his wicked imagination?  She thought the silence was
worse; there was nothing to distract the leering eyes from her nakedness.

   "Stand up, you slut," Sharon teased.  She grabbed four more skirts the
same size and one a size larger.  She then told Kim to remove the one she
was wearing.  Happily, Kim hastened to obey.  She dropped her dress, and
shimmied free of the skirt.

   Sharon was enjoying Kim's distress.  The look of terror that played in
Kim's eyes made Sharon want to explode in delight.  The bitch belonged to
her.  There was no doubt about it, not after that display.  Sharon knew Kim
would do most anything she was asked.  The power left her light-headed.

   Turning back to the racks of clothing Sharon grabbed a few T-shirts,
some small, some as large as they could be.  All had the letters A & F
written on them.  "What do you think?" Sharon asked.  "A & F.  Ass and
Flaps?"

   Kim was too humiliated to blush any deeper.  "Whatever you say, Miss
Reed."

   "Wait by the door," Sharon commanded as she turned towards the register.
As promised, she would purchase the clothes for her little Kimmie-Doll.

   Kim stood by the entrance to Abercrombie's, drawing attention from the
passerby's along the wide hallway.  She stood, her head bowed, trying to
hide her face.

   "What was that?"

   "She's a little show-off," Sharon said to the woman that was ringing up
the purchase.  "She gets off on it and she finds it more exciting if she
doesn't know what's going to happen.  I'm just helping her out."

   The young woman completed the sale and handed Sharon her business card.
"If you want," she said looking around to make sure she couldn't be heard.
She hadn't completely believed the woman's story, but she knew how to play
along and enjoy opportunities when they appeared, "I'm the weekday manager
and I could use a mannequin." She raised her eyes as if waiting a response.

   Sharon looked at the card, turned it over to examine the blank back and
smiled, "I think, Vera, we can work something out."

   "Excellent," she exclaimed.  "I look forward to it.  I gave you a
discount for the show."

   Sharon giggled; she couldn't wait to tell Kim that her nakedness had
once again made money.  She figured it would embarrass the little slut even
more.  Sharon asked for another card and gave Vera her phone number.  "Call
me and we'll schedule something."

   With the sale complete, Sharon walked from the store all smiles and let
Kim know how lucrative her body had been.  Kim, for her part, just wanted
to leave the mall, leave the state, hell, leave the planet.

   They stopped next at Sharon's cellular provider and in almost no time
and with Kim simply standing at the entrance, Sharon purchased a phone for
Kim and added the phone to her plan.  She handed the phone to Kim.  "You
don't need to know the number as I'm going to be the only person to call
you on this.  Anytime the phone rings you answer it with, 'Yes, Miss Reed.'
If you get a text message, it will be a command from me and you will obey.
Got it?  You are a slave to me and to this phone."

   Tethered always, Kim thought.  Could it get any worse?  Yes, she
reasoned, it can always get worse.  It was one of the great and mysterious
truths about life; no matter how bad things got, it could always get worse.
"Yes, Miss Reed."

   Sharon looked at the time, "we need to get you to work.  You must be
pretty uncomfortable standing there with all those clothes on."

   All those clothes?  She was wearing nothing more than a tiny, neon
dress. "Yes, Miss Reed," Kim said.

   "Yes, you are uncomfortable with all those clothes on?  Perhaps you
should take the dress off."

   Kim snapped her head to look into Sharon's dark eyes.  She couldn't be
serious.  Could she?  "Please, no," she begged.

   No, Sharon thought, it wasn't too soon.  "Follow me," she was almost
laughing at Kim's distress.  She led Kim through the mall, Kim's face hung
in fear.  Sharon led her past the food court and shops and kiosks hawking
jewelry and hats.  Past the entrance they had came in and into Macy's. 
Sharon took her to the fitting rooms, not grabbing a dress from the rack.
They entered the small cube together.  "Give me the dress."

   "Please," Kim said, falling to her knees to beg, really beg.

   "Now!"

   Kim choked on her words.  "You...  you said you'd never make me go
bottomless in Macy's."

   "You won't be bottomless.  You'll be naked.  Now, give me the dress or
give up your house.  I'm sick of arguing with you."

   Resigned, Kim pulled the straps of the dress off her shoulders and
dropped the bright cloth to the floor.  She stepped back, picked up the
dress and handed it to Sharon.

   "Now, what did your husband say?  Oh, yes.  Meet me in the car.  I'll be
nice, this time.  I'll meet you at the Macy's entrance.  Give me a few
minutes." With that Sharon grabbed the dress, the bag from Abercrombie's
and the bag with Kim's cell phone, leaving Kim naked and alone in the
Macy's fitting room.

   Time stood still for Kim.  She didn't know what to do.  She couldn't
stay here, Sharon would only wait so long, but she couldn't run through the
store naked.  If she stayed, Sharon would surely leave.  She would be stuck
until the store closed and then how would she get home; naked with no I.D.,
no money?  It would be a long and humiliating walk.  No, she reasoned, she
had to once again streak Macy's.  The short term shame outweighed the long
trek.

   Kim waited five minutes and then she ran.  Reliving the streak her
husband had put her through.  This time she wasn't wearing a top; one hand
held her naked breasts, the other covered her pussy.  Her ass bounced as
she ran, she couldn't conceal everything.  She darted from the store, once
again hearing the whistles and shouts and taunts burn in her ears.  She
pushed past an elderly couple as they entered the store, surprised and
ashamed when the old man held the door for her.  Still she ran.  She dashed
into the parking lot, looking for Sharon's car.  She scanned left and right
and finally spotted Sharon, not up by the door but at the far end of the
lot.  Kim was crying in shame as she streaked across the pavement in the
bright daylight.  Holding herself, she ran.

   Sharon was crying as well, savoring Kim's distress.  She had never
laughed so hard in her life, watching little miss perfect run naked across
the parking lot.  She had almost left, thinking how much fun that could
have been, but decided not to.  She didn't want to break Kim this early in
the game.  She knew she would in time; she just wanted to enjoy the torment
for a while longer.  Watching Kim run made her pussy pulse with need. 
She'd take care of that later.

   Kim made it to the car and threw herself into the back seat, ducked
below the windows and sobbed.

   Sharon let her cry and drove Kim to work.  She was giggling as she
thought that Kim would get to reveal her body even more before the day was
through.

   9

   Sharon watched, as promised, as Kim put in her full shift at Pussy Cats.

   She had started each dance with just panties, not having any brassieres
to wear.  As she had been commanded, Kim had dutifully doffed her panties
at the end of her first dance and had given them away.  The crowd seemed
elated to see the souvenirs and by the end of the night, Kim had made more
money than any previous night.  Saddened by her day, but unbelievably
aroused by all that happened, during her last dance Kim had pulled a chair
onto the stage and masturbated to a noisy orgasm in front of the whole
audience.  The tips and applause were impressive and even Sharon was amazed
at how resilient her little Kimmie-Doll seemed to be.  The entire night,
while not dancing, Kim served the men in the private rooms to the right of
the stage.

   At the end of the night, Sharon drove Kim home.  Kim was wearing her
green dress and just sat silently in the back seat, spread, her phone in
her purse next to a large pile of cash.

   Dropping her off at her house, Sharon said, "See you tomorrow, Kimmie."

   "Yes, Miss Reed." Kim sounded weak, even to herself.

   Sharon watched as Kim walked into her house and shut herself away from
the world.

   Kim stripped on her Dressing Rug and took a forty-minute shower, trying
to wash the day away.  She traipsed naked to her bed and an hour after
locking herself in, Kim was asleep.

   10

   Sharon masturbated to a delightful orgasm, decided it wasn't enough, and
picked up her phone.  "Jason," she said.  "Get over here and do me!"

   Twenty minutes later, Jason Norgan, a senior at the local high-school
arrived at her door and did as he was bid.  Sated, Sharon sent him away. 
It will be easier, she thought, next year when he's a student at her
college.  The wait had nearly been too much; Sharon could be impatient.

   Ten minutes later, Sharon was asleep.

   Chapter 4

   1

   Sharon arrived ten minutes before seven that Friday morning.  She
carried her camera and a small plastic bag to Kim's door and rang the bell.
Kimberly opened the door, nude, her brown tresses pulled back into twin
pigtails and her face made up the same as the day before.  Sharon could see
a small blush on Kim's face and delighted in it.  "Good morning, Kimmie."

   Not repeating the mistake of the previous morning, Kim said, "Good
morning, Miss Reed." She tried to sound happy and almost succeeded.

   "I have something for you," Sharon said handing the small bag to Kim. 
"I picked it up at the drug store this morning just for you."

   Kim opened the bag and pulled out a purple and white box labeled Spa
Wax. Kim looked at it, her face lined with confusion.  "Miss Reed?"

   Sharon barked laughter.  "You did not ask me to humiliate you yesterday
while we were shopping.  I am sure you thought you were embarrassed enough,
but that is not the way the game is played.  This is your punishment. 
Tonight, instead of shaving your pussy, you are going to go on stage and
wax yourself bald.  It'll hurt; I am sure.  At least I hope so," she
chuckled at this.  "You are also going to offer the little strips of pubic
hair as souvenirs.  I can't imagine anyone wanting them, but it should be
so embarrassing for you to offer them.  I'll probably come to the club to
watch you do it."

   Kim's mouth hung open, praying she had misheard Sharon, but knowing she
had not.  She shut her mouth, swallowed, and meekly said, "yes, Miss Reed."
There was nothing else she could say.

   "Excellent.  Now, let's go see what you're gonna wear to work today."

   Kim followed Sharon to the bedroom carrying the wax with her.  Sharon
commanded Kim to spread her legs while Sharon grabbed a small white blouse
from the closet.  She poked her head out of the closet and asked, "where
are your new skirts, Kimmie?"

   Kim's head snapped to Sharon; surely she'd not have to wear those to
work.  Would she?  "Please," Kim said, "don't make me wear those to class.
You said you'd take it easy on me on campus.  Please."

   Sharon's smile faded from her lips.  "You don't like your new skirts,
Kimmie?"

   Kim's face went from red to white to red again as shame and fear played
equally across her mind.  How could she answer that question?  If she said
she liked them then Sharon would certainly make her wear one and if she
said she did not like them then what?  Kim figured Sharon would have them
modified with the scissors in her purse.  Sharon would tell Kim why Kim did
not like them.  It was a lose-lose situation.  "What ever you say, Miss
Reed," Kim said sounding broken.

   "Well, then, I say have a nice day." She dropped the blouse on the floor
and walked from the room.  Her heels clicked loudly on the kitchen tile as
she made her way to the front door.

   Kim ran after her, darting through the dining room and into the foyer
just as Sharon arrived.  "I'm sorry, Miss Reed," Kim said, her head bowed.
"Forgive me." Sharon's intention had been clear.  She was leaving and with
her any hope of Kim keeping her house and both jobs.  Kim could not allow
that to happen.  For the first time she realized how truly trapped she was.

   "It seems I have to go through this every day," Sharon spoke slowly. 
"Yesterday you promised you'd not give me any more trouble and the first
thing this morning, there you are, arguing with me.  Why should I keep
doing this?"

   Kim was nearly in tears, "I'm sorry." She was apologizing to Sharon,
which seemed to redden Kim's cheeks even more.

   "Well then," Sharon said.  She took a deep breath, "where are your new
skirts?"

   "In the laundry room, Miss Reed." She had planned on washing them over
the weekend and so had dropped then in the laundry room when she had gotten
in from Pussy Cats the previous evening.

   "Go get them and meet me in the bedroom."

   "Yes, Miss Reed."

   Kim returned to find Sharon sitting on her bed.  "Put one on," Sharon
commanded.

   Kim placed the skirts down on the bed next to Sharon and grabbed the top
one from the pile.  She pulled the tags free, dropping them on the bed. 
She donned the skirt and as she had noticed the day before, the skirt was
entirely too short.  Her pussy was completely covered, but she could feel
the skirt skimming her ass.  She pulled her hand along the skirt, tugging
the hem lower.  She looked at herself in the mirror, with the skirt as low
as she could wear it she could still see the curve of her ass reflected
back at her; the twin swells were playing peek-a-boo with the hem of her
skirt.

   "Now," Sharon said, her eyes hard points, her voice iron.  "This is what
you are going to wear to class today." She stared at Kimmie, daring her to
protest.  Wisely, Kim remained quiet, but she could feel tears threaten to
spill from her eyes.  "And," Sharon continued, "you are going to grab the
remaining skirts I let you keep including the ones that needed to be
modified and we are going to drop them off at the tailors this morning. 
Because of your little outburst, this will be the longest skirt you will
own.  Got it?"

   Shamed and scared Kim said, "yes, Miss Reed." Her voice was little more
than a squeak.

   "Now grab the blouse from the closet."

   Kim obeyed.

   "Put it on." Sharon watched as Kim donned the blouse.  Before Kim's
outburst, the blouse was going to be the worst part of her outfit for the
day, not the skirt.  Kim's little display had actually helped Sharon to
speed things up; maybe a little too fast, she thought.  Sharon secretly
hoped Kim would defy her again.  The blouse was tight and thin and Kim's
breasts were covered, but their shape as well as the hard points of Kim's
nipples were perfectly outlined.  Wearing it, Kim's breasts were at the
same time hidden, yet their shape and size fully revealed.

   Seeing herself, Kim wanted to hide away.  She would be clearly displayed
in the outfit Sharon had chosen for her.  Chocking back a sob, she knew
she'd obey.  Sharon would not hesitate to end Kim's career and Kim losing
her house did not bother Sharon in the least.  Trapped, Kim thought, then,
no, a stranger thought crept through her conscious thoughts.  Owned.  She
was owned.

   "Grab your wax and all of your skirts and let's go.  Remember, we
decided they were a little long." Sharon almost broke out laughing at the
look on Kim's face.

   Kim did as she was told; grabbing every skirt she owned and walked,
dressed in her breast-hugging blouse and tiny skirt, meekly behind Sharon.
She held the skirts in front of her with both hands, the bag containing her
wax hung from her wrist.  She followed Sharon to the door, grabbed her
purse with her phone, donned the same short heels as yesterday, and left
the house with Sharon.  She struggled to lock the door.  "Get in and
spread," Sharon said as she climbed behind the wheel.

   Kim placed the items she was carrying down in the back seat, sat, moved
forward and spread her legs.  Her pussy gaped back at her.  The skirt was
so short that with her legs spread her naked ass was on the cloth of the
seat, not the denim of the skirt.  She wanted to shut her legs, she wanted
to cover up, and she wanted to flee.  Instead, she meekly sat there and
wondered how she could be any more embarrassed.  She needed to come up with
a way; the waxing would be horrible and it was a punishment for not asking
for even more humiliation.  Think, she berated herself, think.

   Sharon backed from the driveway, watching Kim in the rear view mirror.
Sharon's pussy throbbed at the power she exerted over Kim.  She wanted to
watch Kim struggle with what she was being made to do.  She enjoyed
treating Kim poorly and from the looks of Kim's swollen sex, she enjoyed it
too.

   "Miss Reed," Kim said, her voice little more than a whisper, "to
humiliate me, may I have one of the skirts shortened even more?" Kim had
reasoned that with the scissors in her purse, it was bound to happen anyway
and thought that this would satisfy Sharon and not really be anything
different than what would eventually happen anyway.

   Sharon smiled, "I'll take care of it.  You don't like the idea of the
waxing, do you, Kimmie?"

   "No, Miss Reed."

   Sharon grinned, "well, then this will help you.  The next time we are
together, and you forget to ask me to humiliate you, do you know what your
punishment will be?"

   Kim shook her head, "no, Miss Reed."

   "Would you like to?"

   Kim thought about it and decided, "yes, Miss Reed." If it wasn't that
bad, she reasoned it would be like a 'get out of jail card'; a free-pass.
Maybe it would be tamer than any humiliation that she'd be able to come up
with.

   "Well, Kimmie," Sharon was giddy, "if you forget, you will move your
Dressing Rug outside onto your front porch.  Won't that be fun?"

   Kim gasped.  If she were forced to strip and dress outside than the
likelihood of being seen by her neighbors would skyrocket.  She was
fortunate they had not seen her yet but with Sharon leading her, Kim knew
it would be just a matter of time.  And, as before, how do you answer such
a loaded question.  Shaking with fear and blushing with shame, Kim said,
"thank you, Miss Reed." It wasn't an answer, but Sharon said nothing.

   Sharon drove to a drycleaner that opened early for the business
community and parked the car.  "Hand me your clothes and wait here.  Do not
close your legs.  Got it?"

   Blushing, Kim said she understood.  She handed the skirts to Sharon and
watched as Sharon walked off with her skirts in her hands.  Kim jumped when
the car beeped, the alarm locking her inside like a puppy added more color
to her crimson cheeks.  She sat there, legs obscenely spread, her pussy,
wet with need staring up at her and whoever chose to walk by the car.  She
covered her face with her hands and waited for Sharon to return.

   Sharon walked into the store and handed the skirts to the man behind the
counter.  "I need these dry-cleaned," Sharon said, "and I would like to
have all of these shortened by a full inch," she indicated the new skirts,
"and this one," Sharon pulled one of the correct sized denim skirts free,
the tags still hanging from it, "shortened by three inches." She picked
through Kim's original skirts and said, "and all of these need to be the
same length as the denim ones." Sharon was smiling.  Kim had asked to have
one of her skirts shortened and Sharon had gleefully had them all made
shorter.  The skirt Kim was wearing was her longest one, as promised.

   The man politely agreed, marking the sales order, making a number of
notes.  "They'll be mighty short," he said.

   "It's okay," Sharon agreed.  "I'm counting on it."

   The man looked at Sharon, wondering if she was kidding.  Deciding that
she was not he asked, "When would you like them?"

   "Tomorrow?"

   He nodded, "It'll cost," he counted the thirteen skirts and said,
"fifty-two bucks extra for next day."

   "That will be fine."

   He finished writing up the sale and handed the receipt to Sharon. 
"Tomorrow afternoon," he said.  Sharon thanked him and returned to the car
where her little Kimmie-doll was sitting, head hidden in her hands and legs
spread wide, waiting for Sharon's return.  The car beeped as Sharon
unlocked the door and Kim jumped, looking around eyes wide, her knees
bouncing at the sound.  Sharon laughed at Kim's obvious distress.  "Let's
head to class.  I'm sure you will have your students' undivided attention
today."

   Kim could only moan.

   2

   Looking from his office window, Dean Waters could not believe what he
was seeing.  Kimberly Turner was walking behind Sharon Reed with her head
bowed.  Kim was dressed quite provocatively and he wondered if his decision
to allow her to find herself again was a good one.  She looked less
professional than any of the other faculty at the college and her skirt was
nearly shameful.  From his window he could clearly see the swell of her
breasts bounce under the thin, white shirt that she was wearing.  The only
thing remotely demure about Kim was her sensible shoes.  If the heels were
any higher than Kim would look more like a hooker than an educator.  He
took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.  He had to talk to
Sharon and see what she thought and then he'd talk to Kim.

   He stepped from the window and sat at his desk.  He jotted down a note
to talk to Sharon and then stood up to once again look out the window.  The
two had almost made it into the English wing and looking at them he
pondered why Kim was walking behind Sharon and why was her head bowed?  Was
she embarrassed by her attire and if so, why was she wearing it?  Was there
more going on than he knew?  He shook his head and picked up the phone.

   "Sir?" The voice of his secretary rang in his ears.

   "Have Sharon Reed meet me in my office after her first class."

   "Yes, Dean Waters."

   "Thank you, Carla."

   And Dean Waters began his day as Sharon and Kim entered the building.

   He was not the only one curious as to what was happening between Sharon
Reed and Kimberly Turner.

   3

   Beep.  Beep.

   Kim sat at her desk, looking at her students looking at her.  The walk
into the building had been humiliating.  As she had climbed from Sharon's
car, her legs parted and her pussy gaped at Sharon.  Sharon had teased her.
"Nice look, slut.  I can't wait to see you bare.  Then you won't have
anything hiding your pussy from view." The laugh came next and shame-faced,
Kim had dropped her head.

   "Walk behind me, Kimmie," Sharon had said.  "You're not my equal." Her
tone was full of malice.

   "Yes, Miss Reed." What could she say?  She was owned and she knew it. 
She followed Sharon into the school and as she walked down the crowded
hall, her ass shaking below the edge of her skirt, she could almost feel
the eyes on her.  The hem of her skirt tickled her naked cheeks softly,
like a gentle caress.  Kim found it both distracting and arousing and it
reminded her exactly how little the skirt covered.  Or, more importantly,
how much of her ass was revealed.  The cheeks of her ass was visible to the
staff and students that milled in the hallway.

   She had been relieved to climb behind her desk, to hide her body from
the view of the young men and women that attended the college.  As she had
the day before, a book blocked her chest from the stares of her students
and the modesty panel of the desk kept her lower body fully concealed.  It
was a welcome feeling, not being seen.  But, her students were staring at
her, some blatantly and some a little less conspicuously.

   Beep.  Beep.

   Kim dropped the book and eyed her students, wondering what the sound had
been.  The third time she heard it, it dawned on her that it was her new
phone.  She opened the left hand drawer, pulled her phone from her purse,
flipped it open and read the display.

   Spread.

   Kim's mouth fell open; her cheeks flared with color.  She looked at the
screen in disbelief.  Here?  Sharon couldn't mean here, could she?  She
looked at her students, half of them working on their assignment while the
other half keeping their attention on the blushing teacher.  Kim turned her
head and saw Sharon watching her from the hallway.

   Reluctantly, Kim spread her legs wide.  Nothing was visible to her
students, the modesty panel of the desk made sure of that, but to Kim that
was little consolation.  To Kim there was a huge difference between the
embarrassment she felt while exposing her naked bodies to others and this
humiliation of exposing herself to no one.  This was worse.  Nobody could
see her undignified pose or her pussy, her desk kept her body hidden from
view.  Still, her pulse was racing and she found it hard to swallow.  Her
students were in the room with her, her pussy open and only her desk hid
the shameful display.  Nothing was visible but she felt even more revealed
than when she held the same pose in the back of Sharon's car.  Did it come
down to being seen or was it where she was that made the humiliation
greater?  Or was it something else, she wondered.  She had felt humiliated
in the mall the day before but not to this degree.  Revealing herself to
others had always been arousing to her which was why she had tolerated the
games with her ex-husband.

   Finally, when Sharon turned from her the window, it came to Kim why this
was worse.  It wasn't the shameful pose or the blatant display; those
things still aroused.  It was the loss of anonymity that made this
humiliation greater.  These were her students, she knew them all by name
and they knew her.  It reminded Kim of what Rascal had said: use a stage
name.  You don't want people to know who you really are.  There was safety
in being anonymous.  She was shamed by her exhibitionism, but as long as no
one knew who she was, she was safe and the mocking tones and hushed
whispers, while adding to her embarrassment did not have a chance to get
back to her later.  Being unknown, once the exhibitionism ended, so did the
humiliation.  But, being known, the whispers would continue long after her
body was once again hidden from view.

   Did Sharon realize this?  If not, Kim wondered, should I tell her?  Kim
decided, keeping her legs wantonly splayed, that she would keep this
knowledge from Sharon.  If Sharon understood, telling her would change
nothing, but if Sharon was unaware than Kim was certain that Sharon would
force Kim to reveal her body to more people that she knew.  It was, Kim
knew, why the threat to move the dressing rug outside was such a good
punishment; she wanted to remain anonymous.  It aroused her to be seen
naked by others, just not others that she knew.

   She kept her legs wantonly spread, wondering when she could close them.
Sharon had witnessed her obeying and Kim did not want to be seen
disobeying. Still, she wanted to close them.  Only fear allowed her to
continue teaching in such a lewd position.

   4

   "Do you have anything to tell me?" Dean Waters asked Sharon who was
sitting in a comfortable leather chair opposite his desk.

   "About?"

   Ted Waters ran his hand through his hair and with more calm than he felt
said, "she looks like a whore.  How can I have her teaching in such a
scandalous outfit?  You've spoken to her.  Does she realize how she looks,
how she comes across?  When she was walking in," seeing the shamed trek in
his mind, "she seemed to be hiding her face.  If she's embarrassed, why is
she dressed like she is?"

   Sharon looked at Ted, her mind spinning.  She did not want Kim's
humiliation to end on campus; the bitch did not deserve a reprieve
anywhere. She had to convince the Dean that this was important to Kim.  She
made a note to herself to tell Kim to keep her head up, to at least act
like she was enjoying what was being done to her.  "Sir," Sharon said,
speaking calmly.  "She has convinced me that she needs this, and I believe
her.  It was just her first time coming to class dressed this way and her
wondering what everyone would think that caused her to try and hide her
face.  She wanted to wear a shorter skirt, but I convinced her that for
today, to take it easy.  Did you know that the skirt she is wearing is her
longest one?  She threw the rest away to not be tempted to change her
mind." She paused, eyeing Dean Waters.  Would he believe her?  She
continued, "As I mentioned to you, with her divorce she needs to feel sexy
again.  And you must admit, she looks pretty sexy in that skirt."

   The Dean nodded, which Sharon took as a good sign.

   "If I hear one complaint about her attire," he said, exhaling sharply,
wondering when dealing with the faculty became as difficult as dealing with
students, "then I will send her home for a week so that she can purchase
less revealing clothing.  A second warning and I will release her.  Make
sure she understands this.  I do not want to have to intervene, but I
will." And, he did like seeing her, he thought.

   "I'll see to it, Dean," Sharon said.

   "Okay."

   Sharon knew she was dismissed.  She stood, nodded politely and left the
Dean's office.  She walked from the administrative building, past the
library and the Science Building and into the English Department Building.
Each step closer to her empty classroom raised her ire even more.  Kim was
dressed like a trollop and it was Sharon that got the reprimand.  Sure,
Sharon was the reason Kim was dressed like she was, but still, did that
matter?  That bitch even had the Dean on her side.  Sharon wondered briefly
if she was being fair and dismissed the thought; it was easier being mean
to Kim if she was angry with her.

   She stopped outside the door to Kim's classroom and smiled.  The bitch
still had her legs widely spread.  A thought entered Sharon's mind and her
anger dissipated where it was replaced with merriment.  She pulled out her
cell phone and made a call.

   5

   Kim slid her knees together.  "Have a good weekend.  Don't forget your
papers due on Monday." She watched her student file from the room and when
she was alone, the last period done, she stood and stretched her legs.  She
had been sitting all day, not wanting to stand and face her student in her
horribly short skirt.  Her chalkboard had remained clean, she had not
turned her back on her class to write on the flat surface.  Sitting, she
had remained hidden.  Standing would have been too revealing.

   "How was your day, Kimmie?" Sharon called from the doorway.

   "Embarrassing, Miss Reed," Kim admitted.

   "Yeah?  Good.  I spoke to the Dean about you today."

   Kim remained silent, waiting for Sharon to continue.

   "He seems to think you do not like how you are dressed.  I convinced him
otherwise, but we have a new rule now.  You are not allowed to hide your
face.  He says you were walking with your head held down and we can't have
that, now can we?"

   Kim blushed as she whispered, "no, Miss Reed."

   Sharon savored the look on Kim's face.  It was a look of fear and shame
and even lust all intermixed and it made Sharon's own face flush with
growing excitement.  "You will keep your head up.  I don't care how
embarrassed you are, you will not hide your face.  You will let people see
all of you.  Got it?"

   Kim hated those two words, words Sharon seemed to use at her expense
entirely too often.  "Yes, Miss Reed."

   "Good.  Let's go."

   Meekly, Kim followed Sharon to her car and climbed into the back.  The
order to 'spread' was not a surprise.

   6

   I Think I'm Going Bald blared through the club's sound system.  To Kim,
Rush never sounded so vicious.  Tommy had laughed when she had told him her
plans but, as always, he knew just the right song to play.  Her first three
dance sets of the night had gone well, each of them getting her invites
into the back.  It was the largest crowd she had seen, the stage had only
one empty seat and over half the tables that rested around the club were
full with hollering and semi-drunk men.  Carlos had said it was the busiest
Friday he had seen as well when Kim handed him the wax kit to microwave for
her last set of the night.

   Sharon was sitting at the bar, her camera resting next to her martini,
watching Kim.  So far, Sharon was impressed with Kim's performance.  She
had enjoyed watching Kim shimmy free of her panties and give them away to a
man that had not tipped her, as Sharon had commanded.  It seemed to
actually help Kim make money.  Sharon noticed the three other dancers
working that night mingled with the crowd before being escorted to the back
rooms for a private dance, while Kim had men approach her.  Kim's fear that
she'd lose money by giving away her panties seemed to be unnecessary.

   When the last set began, Kim pulled a chair and accessories from behind
the maroon curtain, and danced across the floor to the bar.  The men were
following her movements, and to Sharon they seemed almost tense, as if they
were expecting something.  Kim grabbed the warm kit from Carlos who had
been nice enough to get it ready for her and with the music blaring and her
hands full, Kim made her way back to the stage.  She plopped into the
chair, spread her legs as wide as she could and like a magician showing his
audience the setup for a magic trick, Kim showed the crowd her intentions.

   The music seemed to fade as the applause started.

   Kim used the wooden stick, it reminded her of a tongue depressor, to
spread the hot wax over her pubic hair.  She pulled the first white strip
of cloth from the box next to the chair and pressed it over the wax.  She
rubbed it and looking left to right, he toes bouncing to the music, she
grabbed the edge of the cloth and pulled as quickly as she could.

   The applause dwarfed the music.

   Kim had not realized how much pain she would feel in her pussy as she
plucked her pubic hair free, but each painful tug seemed to quicken her
pulse and make her pussy swell with lust.  She was thankful, as she grabbed
another strip of cloth that she only had a thin line to wax and not a full
pubic bush.  Kim took eight painful pulls to denude herself of her pubic
hair.  With each tug, the audience clapped and when the last strip gave
way, Kim dropped her hand over her bare pussy and felt the heat rising from
her sex.  The excitement she felt from her exposure as well as the pain in
her sex had caused her sex to throb with need.  She shut her eyes and
brought herself to an orgasm that could not be heard over the cheering
audience.

   Sated, Kim climbed to her feet and picked up the pieces of hairy cloth.
She held them in front of her, showing them to the audience.  The tables
were empty, every man in the place was standing shoulder to shoulder at the
stage.  Kim flashed the wax strips coated with her pubic hair and was
amazed to see how much money was being offered for them.  Kim had been told
to offer them as souvenirs; did that mean she could not sell them?  Sharon
had not said and when it was all done, she had made nearly three hundred
dollars for the eight sheets of cloth that held the remains of her pubic
hair.

   Sharon had snapped pictures of it all.  The pictures, Sharon thought,
were going to be important very soon.

   At the end of the night, as they were getting ready to leave and with
Kim still beaming from how much money she had made, she turned to Sharon,
"Miss Reed, to humiliate me, may I ride home naked?" After the night she'd
had, it did not seem very humiliating.

   "Of course.  Leave your clothes here and let's go."

   Sharon took Kim home and as Kim opened the back door to run inside,
still nude, her clothes locked safely away in her locker at the strip club,
Sharon said, "I'll be over in the morning.  We're going to have fun
tomorrow.  Well," she grinned an unfriendly smile, "I will anyway.  Good
night, Kimmie."

   "Good night, Miss Reed," Kim said and ran inside to lock the day behind
her.

   Chapter 5

   1

   The ringing phone pulled Kim from her slumber.  She stretched, rubbed
her eyes and reached to answer the call.  Sounding sleepy she said,
"Hello?"

   "Yes, Kim.  It's David from the club."

   She recognized his accent, "yes?" He sounded less gruff than he did
during her interview.  He was a nice guy, Kim knew after having been at the
club for a bit now; the tough exterior was an act to rule out dancers who
were not serious when they came responding to the seemingly constant
newspaper ads.

   "Well," he paused, "I want to change your work days if that's okay with
you.  Instead of Mondays I want you to come in on Saturdays.  I know it's
too short a notice for today, but, well, you've made some fans and the
crowd last night was the biggest we've had in a long time and I want to
give you the best work nights instead of the starter's nights.  So,
Saturday instead of Monday?"

   Kim sat up, her covers falling from her breasts and said, "sounds
great." She liked the idea of not working when she had to teach class the
next day.  And, she thought with astonishment, I have a fan club.  The idea
made her nervous and excited at the same time.  "So I won't come in on
Monday, right?"

   "Right.  The show you put on is great and the guys love watching you
masturbate.  We never had a girl do that before.  Keep it up!  Really, good
job."

   Kim was blushing at the praise and it was a welcome change to blush from
kind words as compared to humiliation.  "Thanks, David."

   "Thank you," he said and to Kim his sincerity was evident.  "See you
Thursday."

   Kim hung up feeling good about herself.

   2

   The doorbell announced Sharon's arrival.  Kim glanced at the clock above
the stove; it was twenty past noon.  Kim felt a small pulse of happiness
that Sharon started her day so late; it was good to spend time alone, away
from Sharon and away from prying eyes.  She padded, naked of course, to
answer the door.  She had been obeying Sharon's rule to remain naked in her
home.  She had done so with her ex-husband and it was...  safer?  She
wasn't confident, but Kim was certain that Sharon would know if she
disobeyed; she had always been a lousy liar.  Naked, Kim opened the door,
"good afternoon, Miss Reed." To Kim her voice sounded cheerful.

   "Hi, Kimmie," Sharon said.  "Let's go get your outfit for the day. 
We're going to have so much fun."

   Sharon's tone had Kim worried.  Fun for Sharon was certainly not going
to be enjoyable for Kimberly.  "Yes, Miss Reed," Kim said, shutting the
door and blocking her naked form from view.

   Kim followed Sharon through the kitchen and into the master bedroom. 
Sharon was smiling as she eyed her naked pet.  "Well," Sharon began,
sounding almost gleeful, "what are you going to wear today." She looked in
Kim's closets and dresser drawers, "we don't seem to have much, do we.  All
of your skirts are at the tailors and you definitely need a skirt today. 
Well, I guess you'll just have to wear the one you wore yesterday.  Go
fetch it and grab your t-shirts."

   Kim hastened to obey, returning from the laundry room with the
Abercrombie shirts and the same, short skirt she had worn to work the day
before.  "Here you are, Miss Reed."

   "Go grab your scissors and a marker." Sharon began picking through the
shirts as Kim ran off to grab the requested items.  She picked up the
largest, dropped it, grabbed another and then finally settled on a tiny
t-shirt just as Kim returned to the bedroom.  "Put this on," Sharon
ordered.

   Kim donned the shirt and while it was snug, it felt good to be covered.

   "Very good," Sharon said as she picked up the marker.  "Now, grab the
hem and tug the shirt down as hard as you can."

   Kim did as she was told without argument.  She pulled the shirt down
tight across her breasts.  "Perfect, hold it there," Sharon said.  Sharon
then marked the shirt with the marker just below the rising swell of Kim's
tits.  She made two additional marks, each on the side of the t-shirt. 
Sharon made a final mark along Kim's spine.  She set the maker down, picked
up the scissors and held them out to Kim.  "Now, take the shirt off and cut
the bottom off.  Use the marks I made as a guide."

   Kim did as she was told.

   "Great," Sharon said.  "Grab your shirt and skirt, put the scissors in
your purse and meet me at the car."

   Kim did as she was commanded and stood naked on her dressing rug.  She
pulled the skirt up her legs and once again felt the material tickle her
ass.  She was covered but knew from the day before how close she was to
being revealed.  She pulled on the shirt and gasped at how short it was. 
The rough edge ended with the underside of her breasts displayed.  Her
nipples stood proud and pushed against the thin fabric.  She looked at
herself in the mirror by the door and blushed; she looked like a slut in
her outfit; the word Fitch nearly cut in half from where she had doctored
the t-shirt.  Kim realized that by tugging the shirt down as she had, it
had raised the modified edge.  It was a humiliating outfit, one that would
attract attention to her, and Kim reluctantly donned her shoes to meet
Sharon outside.

   Sharon was laughing at the way Kim looked.  The slut's tits were
bouncing and each step caused the lower rise to dance with the jagged hem
of the shirt, revealing and then concealing just a pinch of Kim's breasts.
Well, Sharon thought, more than the lower edge will be seen today.  She was
still laughing as Kim climbed in the back of the car and spread her legs,
her now naked pussy gaping up at Sharon's gaze.

   Sharon backed from the car and drove across town.  She pulled into a
long L-shaped strip mall and parked the car near the center of the L.  Kim
jumped in surprise, her head darting to look behind her as Sharon popped
the trunk.  "Okay, Kimmie," Sharon said with a grin that would make the
Cheshire Cat envious.  "Here's our first stop."

   Kim glanced around, wondering what humiliation Sharon had planned for
her.  It was something she seemed to be giving a lot of thought recently.

   "You are going to carry the bags containing your clothes into Good Will.
Make sure you get a receipt for tax purposes."Sharon could see Kim's eyes
growing moist and a surge of power swelled within her.  She loved the
feeling she got by dominating the bitch.  The receipt, of course, was just
to increase the amount of time Kim spent displaying herself in the tiny
outfit she was wearing.

   Kim looked at Sharon and then said, "Miss Reed, to humiliate me, may I
carry the bags in one at a time?" Kim had thought about her requirement to
ask to be humiliated and had come up with the idea to just take Sharon's
idea and make it just a little worse.  In this case, the task would take a
bit longer, but the exposure would be the same.  If she was asked to flash
her breasts to five men; how much worse would ten men be?  It was like
taking back a little bit of the control Sharon held over her.  If it
worked, she was confident her Dressing Rug would remain inside.

   "That is a great idea, Kimmie," Sharon said still smiling.

   Kim climbed from the car, tugged the hem of her skirt as far down as she
could and grabbed the first of four bags.  She walked into the store and
lifted the bag onto the counter.  "I'd like to donate these, please," she
said with all the courage she could muster.  She could feel tears
threatening to spill from her eyes and struggled to keep them from falling.

   A heavy-set woman of about forty looked at Kim.  A look of disgust
flared in the woman's face so briefly that Kim wondered if she had really
seen it.  "Okay," was all the woman said.

   "I have a few more things," Kim said, struggling to sound happy.  "Just
do what you need to do." Kim left the bag on the counter and left the
store. She made three additional trips, walking past open stores and
various shoppers as they went about their business.  Heads turned and
countless eyes followed Kim as she repeated the trek from Sharon's car to
the store and back again.  She could almost feel the stares; she could
almost hear the taunts.  She burned with shame as she witnessed men
pointing her out to their friends and women turning their heads in disgust.

   With the last bag, the one containing her old panties and bras, in her
hands she shut Sharon's trunk and made the humiliating walk back into the
store.  She could feel the warm afternoon air caress her breasts and the
wind of the day tickled her bare pussy.  She was barely covered and she was
giving away the only clothes she had that offered any modesty.  It was
humiliating and humbling and Kim hated Sharon for it.  It won't be forever,
she reminded herself as she walked back into the store.  It won't be
forever.

   Kim stood at the counter as the woman pawed through her clothes and
rifled through her underwear.  The woman punched numbers into a calculator
and when the four bags were empty, the clothes lying as a lump in a large
cloth basket, the woman said, "four hundred dollars; you want that in store
credit?"

   Kim couldn't believe the number, she knew what she had paid and it was
considerably more than that, "no.  Just a receipt please."

   The woman nodded, filled out two pieces of paper and handed one to Kim.
Her voice was hard as she said, "maybe you should have kept some of them.
Don't you have any shame?"

   Kim wondered if the woman was color blind; her face had been crimson the
entire time.  Instead, Kim said, "thank you." She left the Good Will store,
her receipt in her hand, and walked back to the car where Sharon was
gleefully waiting for her.

   "Wasn't that fun?"

   Kim hated the loaded questions.  "I have the receipt, Miss Reed," was
her answer, showing the paper to Sharon.

   "You keep it," Sharon said.  "I'm hungry.  Let's go get lunch."

   Sitting in the back seat, her legs spread like a drunken whore, Kim
could only wonder what else she was going to have to do today.  She wiped
her eyes with the back of her hand and was not surprised when her hand came
back wet.

   3

   Kim sat opposite Sharon.  Sharon was enjoying her day so far and knew
that Kimmie was not going to like the trip she had planned to the mall. 
The thought of it made her giddy.  She looked at Kim and said, "Spread."
She took a sip of her lemonade and watched the pain and shame and fear that
danced across Kim's face.

   Kim blanched and looked around nervously.  When they had entered the
restaurant she had witnessed heads turning to look at her shameful attire.
Eyes followed her as they were shown a table and now, with their drinks
served and lunch ordered, peering eyes were still staring her way.  Men
were openly ogling her and it seemed that each of the wait staff made it by
their table; the word of her appearance had made the rounds through the
restaurant.  Her naked ass was sitting on the seat but at least the hem
covered all of her, but now she would be more than revealed.  She swallowed
and moved her knees apart.  Even with the table hiding her blatant display
she felt that the only thing visible was her bare pussy and blushing face.

   Sharon peeked under the table.  "Wipe yourself, you slut," she teased.
Her voice hardened, "and no matter what, you do not close your legs until I
tell you to.  Got it?"

   She could barely speak, "yes, Miss Reed."

   Sharon smiled at Kimberly, "Monday, when you are at the club, I have
something you need to do."

   "I no longer work Monday's there, Miss Reed.  David called and changed
my working days to Thursday, Friday, and Saturday." She sounded so weak,
and Kim hated herself for it.

   "Well, then," Sharon said, "that'll be good.  Thursday then.  When you
come out in your little bra and panties, you are going to take off your
panties and bury them inside that moist hole of yours.  Then, for your
second dance you'll masturbate and finally pull them out and give them away
for the last song in the set.  You should have fun with that one." Sharon
was openly laughing at her.

   Wanting to hide, wanting to disappear and afraid to admit that she
probably would enjoy it, Kim meekly replied, "yes, Miss Reed."

   Their waitress, a thin, young woman approached their table carrying
their meal; a salad for Kim and a turkey club for Sharon.  The waitress set
the food down, looked at the flush on Kim's face, to the amusement on
Sharon's and shook her head.  "You have an audience," the waitress said. 
"You," she looked at Kim, "are the talk of the restaurant.  How could you
go out in public dressed like that?"

   Kim burned with shame.  Can't you tell I don't want to be dressed like
this?  Look at my face.  I know I have an audience.  Thoughts as these
raced through her mind as she lowered her head.

   "Remember your rules?" Sharon asked.

   Kim raised her head.  She wasn't allowed to hide her face.

   Smiling, Sharon looked at the young woman.  "You know how some people
are.  Did you know she's not wearing panties?  Look."

   Kim wanted to close her legs, wanted to hide her pussy and wanted to
flee.  Instead, with her hands shaking, she took a bite of her salad.

   The waitress stepped back from the table and crouched down as if to tie
her shoe.  "Holy shit," she muttered.  She stood back up and asked Kim,
"Have you no shame?  You're flashing your kitty to the whole restaurant."

   Kim swallowed and remained quiet.  How did you answer that question?

   Sharon spoke for her, "she's just a little exhibitionist; she likes
showing off.  Make sure you let everybody know." She was smiling as she
spoke.

   The waitress turned away and returned two minutes later with her phone.
"Can I, uh, take a picture?  My friends won't believe me when I tell them
this."

   Sharon answered for Kim, "by all means."

   Kim was staring at Sharon, begging with her eyes to not allow this
indignity to continue.  Please, her mind screamed, no pictures.  Please. 
Her legs were twitching as she struggled to obey, instinct made her want to
close her legs while fear kept them widely parted.

   The waitress dropped down again and snapped a few pictures of Kim's open
legs and denuded pussy.  With each click the camera made, Kim felt her
shame intensify and her resolve slipping.  Please, let's get this over
with, she thought.  Her hands were shaking, her breathing shallow and her
eyes damp.

   "Thanks," the waitress said and turned from the table.

   Sharon broke out laughing, "This is just too much fun!" She took a bite
of her sandwich and a sip of her drink.  A moment later two more members of
the wait staff approached the table with their phones held up like a
back-stage-pass and each time Sharon allowed them to snap pictures of Kim's
open pussy.  Surprisingly, no one took a picture of her face.  The parade
of staff to their table kept the eyes of the other patrons focused on Kim
and her widely parted legs.  Even though it was dark, how she was sitting
was evident to just about all people present.  Whispers burned her ears.

   They finished their meal.  At the end Kim's sex had been photographed
roughly forty times by strangers and the manager had come by to say he had
"comped their meal" in exchange for the show.  "But," he admonished, "next
time, have her facing away from other tables.  This is a family
restaurant."

   Kim wanted to run screaming from Sharon and the restaurant.  How had she
let herself get in this position?  And, please, she thought, don't let
there be a next time.

   "Close your legs, Kimmie, and let's go."

   Shame-faced, she walked from the restaurant.  She noticed that everyone
was watching her leave.

   4

   "Ready for the next game?" Sharon asked.

   They were sitting in Sharon's car, Kim's legs spread wide, with Sharon
facing her.  Sharon was parked outside the Sears attached to the same mall
she had streaked twice now, once with her ex-husband and once with Sharon
just a few day's earlier.  She figured by the end of the day she would be
streaking it again.  "Yes, Miss Reed." She wasn't really, but knew she had
no choice.

   "Get out of the car."

   Kim climbed from the car, flashing her naked sex to Sharon as she did.
Sharon stood next to her and locked the door.

   "This game is called, tits, ass or pussy.  You are going to walk through
the mall, all by yourself.  Don't worry, I'll be following close enough to
snap some lovely pictures," she held her camera up to Kim.  "You are going
to approach as many people as it takes to finish the game.  The only words
you are allowed to speak are 'tits', 'ass', or 'pussy.' If they say 'tits'
you are going to grab the edge of your shirt with both hands and pull it
straight up and flash your tits.  Do it now."

   Kim stared open mouth at Sharon, not wanting to believe what she was
hearing.  Surely Sharon would not make her do this, would she?  She opened
her mouth to protest and then shut her mouth with her hands clenched in
impotent fists.  She swallowed hard, opened her hands and grabbed her tiny
t-shirt.  She pulled the shirt up, flashing her breasts to Sharon and the
parking lot.  As quickly as she could, she lowered the shirt again.

   "No, no, no, no, no," Sharon said.  "You are going to flash them while
you count, slowly, to five.  Now, try again.  Tits."

   Kim hesitated, shaking with dread.  She grabbed the edge of her shirt
with both hands again and raised the shirt higher, pulling it free of her
breasts.  She counted to five and it was the longest five seconds of her
life before hiding her breast behind the fabric of the t-shirt again.  It
was funny, she thought, the t-shirt that was too short when she left the
house was plenty long enough now to provide her with a small amount of
dignity.

   "Perfect.  Now, if they say 'pussy' or 'ass', what will you do?  Show
me. Pussy."

   Kim knew what she had to do.  Trembling she grabbed the edge of her
skirt and raised it with both hands until the whole of her waxed pussy was
visible to Sharon.  She counted to five and wondered how the long seconds
she had endured baring her breasts seemed short to the five count of
flashing her pussy.  As quickly as possible, she dropped her skirt and
smoothed it down.

   "Ass."

   Once again Kim grabbed the hem of her skirt.  She spun around, yanked
the skirt up and counted to five as she mooned Sharon.  At the end of the
count, she lowered her skirt once more.

   "Perfect.  Now, the game ends when you have flashed all three twenty
times.  I imagine that it won't be an even distribution, men are such pigs
after all, although you can approach women too, if you'd like.  I would bet
that most would want to see your pussy.  I wonder how long it will take for
you to get through this?  Oh, and you can only ask each person once."

   Kim wanted to cry as she listened to the game she was going to be
playing.

   "Won't this be a fun game?"

   Rebellion flared in Kim and she muttered, "you do it, if you think it's
fun."

   Sharon grinned, "let's make it twenty-five times.  Care to go for
thirty?"

   "No, Miss Reed," she said and as she had thought before she realized
that no matter how bad things are, they can always get worse.

   "Wonderful.  Let's go."

   Kimberly walked into Sears with Sharon following behind her about forty
feet back.

   5

   The tool department was full of shoppers; men browsing for tools and
lawn equipment, hammers and chisels, saws and drills, pliers and wrenches.
Kim was walking slowly, trembling in fear.  This was going to be shameful
and she wondered if she could do it.  It was the hardest thing Sharon had
ordered her to do so far.  Spreading her legs in her class with her
students a few feet away, but she had been hidden.  Here, she was to shame
herself and it took all of her will power to walk up to a man, browsing
electric drills and croak out the three harsh choices, "tits, ass, or
pussy?"

   He looked at her confused, not sure if he had heard her right.  He eyed
her indecently clad body and said with a raised eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

   "Tits, ass or pussy," she choked on the words.

   Was it an offer?  "Tits," he said.

   Shaking, Kim grabbed the jagged edge of her t-shirt and pulled it up,
revealing her breasts and the hardened nubs of her nipples to the stranger.
She counted to five and over the man's shoulder she could see Sharon
snapping pictures.  When she reached five, she lowered her shirt and her
eyes and spun quickly from the stunned shopper.  One down, and, Oh God,
seventy-four to go.  Kim agreed with Sharon, there was bound to be
duplicates as she neared the end of the task.  Still, she had to get this
over with if she was to make it home.  She had no doubt that Sharon would
keep her here until she finished her degradation or until the mall closed.
And then what?  What would the punishment be if she hadn't finished?  Kim
did not want to find out.  She spun around and walked further into the tool
department.

   Two men were standing looking at socket sets, talking about which set to
purchase when Kim turned into the aisle.  They took one look at her and
stopped talking, their eyes taking in what Kim revealed.  Trembling in
anxiety, Kim looked at the men and asked, "tits, ass, or pussy?"

   They looked at each other and back at Kim.  The one on the left said,
"pussy," as the other said, "tits."

   Kim was uncertain what to do.  Would it count as one or two, and did she
have to do both or wait for the two men to come to an agreement.  Deciding
to speed her day along, Kim grabbed the edge of her shirt and pulled it up,
nearly concealing her face from the two men.  She counted to five, dropped
the shirt and hiked her skirt above her waist, flashing the two guys her
hairless sex.  She could feel how wet she was as the cool air of the store
blew across her nether lips and she wondered if the men could see her
arousal.  At the count of five she dropped her skirt, thankful that the
humiliating display was over, and left the aisle.  Three down, seventy-two
to go; it seemed an impossible number.

   She looked back and could see Sharon following her; she was far enough
back to see and hear everything but to not look like the two of them were
together.  Kim walked further into the store.  She made her way into the
appliance department and approached an employee standing next to a dryer
all alone.  She walked up to him and repeated her shaming query, "tits,
ass, or pussy?"

   "Huh?"

   "Tits, ass, or pussy?"

   "What are you talking about?"

   Sharon had instructed her that those were the only words she could utter
during this game and so she repeated them, "tits," she thrust out her
chest, "ass," she spun around revealing the shortness of her skirt, "or
pussy?" With the last word she thrust her hips forward.

   "Pussy," he said, blushing himself.

   Of course, she thought.  She grabbed the hem of her skirt and hiked it
upwards, once again baring her naked sex to a stranger.  She counted to
five, each number feeling like an eternity and then quickly dropped her
skirt.  She turned, saw Sharon watching her with a smile on her evil face,
and went looking for more humiliation.

   6

   Sharon was enjoying the game immensely.  The little bitch was baring her
naked form to complete strangers with no prompting from her.  She just set
the game in motion and then sat back to watch it unfold.  She got the
enjoyment of Kimmie's humiliation with no effort.  She followed Kim through
Sears, surprised at how well Kim seemed to be faring.  It was funny; the
slut was so intent on her task that she seemed oblivious to the secondary
display she was giving.  She would flash her pussy to a man and behind her,
her naked ass would be visible to three, four, and once about a dozen
others.  By the end of the first half hour, with Kim only about one third
of the way through her task, she had flashed twice that inadvertently. 
Sharon snapped about thirty pictures before Kim left Sears and made her way
into the central corridor of the mall.

   7

   The game was horrible, each time she flashed her body it was not Sharon
doing it; she was humiliating herself alone.  A couple of times she looked
for Sharon when she was done and Sharon was nowhere to be found.  Was she
hiding or just moving to get a better shot.  She was worried about the
pictures that Sharon was taking, certain that no good could come of them.
Still, she had to continue.  The walkway was crowded, shoppers bustled from
store to store, some with their hands full of packages and others with
their arms empty.  Mothers shopped with their children; teenage girls
shopped in groups and gossiped loudly to each other while talking on their
cell phones.  Why, she wondered, did they put cameras in phones?  She
remembered seeing a story on the news about pictures appearing of women in
various stages of undress that the women themselves were not aware of; the
small devices were easily concealed in the hands of the unscrupulous.

   She glanced around the central walkway and concluded that it would be
easier to continue her task within the confines of the many stores than out
in the open.  Exposing herself to others was horribly humiliating but with
the small amount of control she had, she did not want to display her naked
form to children.

   She turned into a store that sold music CD's and Video tapes and inched
along the aisles of music until she came to a young man browsing through a
display of video's that read 'ACTION'.  She walked up to him and whispered
her humiliating query.

   He had seen her coming and he liked what she was showing, "ass," he
said. It was the fourth time that request had been made; it was coming in
last place.  Kim spun around and pulled her skirt up, baring her ass to the
young man and displaying her naked sex to a couple that were sharing a diet
coke.  She counted to five and then hurried from the store feeling like a
slut, feeling ashamed and feeling aroused.  One more down.

   8

   "Is Vera here?"

   "Yeah, she's in the back.  I'll get her for you." The girl, who could
barely be seventeen walked slowly through a parted curtain and came back a
moment later.  "She'll be right with you."

   "Thanks," Sharon said.  She turned from the register and walked to the
front of the store just in time to see Kim leaving Waldenbooks and cross
the hall and enter a men's shoe store.  Kim was doing very well, Sharon had
to admit.  She had quickly figured out that it was less humiliating to
perform her show in private stores as compared to the bustling center
walkways.  Next time, Sharon smiled; I'll add that the stores were off
limits.  It was funny how easy it was to make up games when she was not the
one having to display her naked charms.

   "Hi," Vera said, recognizing the woman that had been here the previous
Thursday.  "Are you here to take me up on my offer?"

   Sharon nodded, "yes, I am.  How about Monday nights; it seems my," she
paused, trying to remember what she had previously revealed.  Finally,
"slave has Monday nights free and she would be glad to be your mannequin."

   "Wonderful," Vera exclaimed, surprised and genuinely pleased.  "What
time?" Did she sound too anxious?

   "Six o'clock."

   "Great.  I'll see you both then."

   They shook hands and with the deal done, Sharon went to find her little
Kimmie.

   9

   Kim was working her way through a men's clothing store when Sharon found
her.  Her skirt was up around her waist, her ass being shown to an old man
in a wheelchair with an oxygen tube attached to his nose.  It made Sharon
laugh seeing Kimberly debase herself and her sex throbbed with rising heat.
She savored her power over this woman and could understand the adage about
power corrupting; she did not want it to end.  She snapped a few pictures
of the man reaching out to caress Kim's ass and then stepped back as Kim
approached yet another man to ask her demeaning question.

   10

   Kim was numb by the time she finished.  It had taken nearly two hours
and at the end she could only hope the men she approached would say 'ass'
as she still had to bear her naked backside eleven times after the other
two were completed.  But, still, it was her breasts and twat that men
wanted to see.  It took and additional forty-five minutes to get through
the last eleven requests to see her round ass.

   Finished, she approached Sharon and reported the completion of her
humiliating task.  Her body was wet with perspiration and she didn't think
the color would ever fade from her face.  She was happy to have the chore
behind her and anxious to leave the mall; the safety of Sharon's car was
preferable to the open chamber of the mall.

   "Very good, Kimmie," Sharon said.  "I have some wonderful pictures of
you." She loved how Kim shook at the mention of pictures.  "I bet you're
ready to go home now, aren't you?"

   Was it a loaded question?  "Yes, Miss Reed."

   "Well, let's go.  We have one more stop to make."

   Kim could only follow Sharon to her car.

   11

   Sharon stopped at the tailors and as before, she ordered Kim to stay in
the back seat with her legs spread wide.  Kim simply obeyed.  She replayed
the day in her mind as Sharon picked up her dry cleaning.  It had been the
most humbling, degrading and humiliating day of her life.  She had shamed
herself over and over with no prodding from Sharon, everything she had done
she did on her own.  Sure, she tried to reason with herself, she had been
ordered to and she obeyed so as to keep her secrets and her house.  But,
she hated to admit it, she had enjoyed herself.  She had felt a sense of
power as the men she flashed shifted uncomfortably as they tried to adjust
their pants.  She had aroused these strangers and now, sitting in the back
of Sharon's car, she felt safe.  The men did not know who she was; her
humiliation had ended and with it only the memories remained.  Memories
that made her pussy leak.

   Her nudity held power: the power to arouse others; the power to shame
and arouse her, even the power to save her house.  It was, to Kim, an
interesting thought.

   Sharon returned to the car and draped the wrapped bundle of clothes on
the passenger seat.  She got in and started the car without a glance back
at Kimmie.  She drove Kim home, neither of them speaking until Sharon
pulled into Kim's driveway.  She looked at Kim who seemed to be lost in
thought and smiled at the blush that still adorned Kim's cheeks.  "I've
only got one thing for you to do tomorrow," Sharon said.

   Kim looked at her, "yes, Miss Reed."

   "You need to make sure there is nothing in your car you can use to cover
up.  Empty your trunk as well as the interior, this includes the floor
mats. There is to be nothing you can use to conceal yourself in your car.
You'll be following me to work on Tuesday.  I'm going to inspect your car
and if I find even one thing," she held her index finger up, "well then,
you'll be dressing on the porch, got it?"

   A day away from Sharon sounded like Heaven.  "Yes, Miss Reed."

   "See you Monday."

   Chapter 6

   1

   In all of history there have been countless examples of luck changing
people's lives.  Good luck could turn a battle, change fortunes and save
lives while bad luck could end marriages, force ruin or cause the death of
millions.  Sunday morning, Emily Bradford had the fortunes of luck smile
down upon her as she sat eating Rice Chex in her bedroom.  Her luck came as
a picture message.  A gentle tone announced the arrival of the picture and
Emily could only stare at it in silent disbelief.  The picture was of
Kimberly Turner wearing an extremely short skirt holding her tiny t-shirt
up to her chin.  In the picture, Kim's breasts and the hard points of her
nipples were clearly visible as was the crimson flush on her face.

   Emily pushed her cereal bowl away, the Chex growing soggy as they sat
uneaten in the bowl.  Her eyes were glued to the picture in the small
display.  Why would Ms.  Turner do that, she wondered?  The blush on her
face implied that she was at the least embarrassed by what she was doing.
Was she coerced?  Forced into the lurid display?  It looked exactly like
the skirt she had been curious to see Kim wearing on campus Friday and she
could not help but wonder if there was a connection.  Countless questions
raced through her mind.  It was, she knew, the best story a second year
Journalism student could happen upon.  She pressed a button, saw who sent
the message, and dialed the phone.

   2

   Sharon Reed stood next to Jason Norgan, her boy-toy, a student at the
college that had just turned nineteen, or maybe twenty, as he crouched
beneath Kim's desk.  "So can you do it?" She could hear the excitement in
her voice.

   Jason nodded, "easily.  Are you sure you want to do this?  It seems, I
don't know, wrong?"

   Sharon loved how naïve the boy was.  Sharon moved closer, pressing the
crotch of her jeans into his face, "it'll be okay," she said.

   He glanced at Sharon and ran his arm up her jean-clad leg to cup her
ass.

   She slapped his hand away, "first, finish what you're doing and then you
can do teacher on her desk."

   He needed no further encouragement.

   3

   It took Kimberly Turner less than twenty minutes to empty her car.  She
could not help but wonder where she would be driving; she knew she'd be
naked.  Why else would Sharon insist that there was nothing in the car that
could be used to shield her body from view?  Sharon had said she'd by
driving Tuesday but Kim doubted that with her car clean it would be the
only time she'd be driving.  But, really, she wondered, how bad could it
be? Could it be any worse than riding in the back of Sharon's car with her
legs obscenely spread, flashing her pussy to whomever could peer into the
confines of the car?  Kim thought driving herself would be tamer and was
actually looking forward to the solitary embrace of her car.  At least, if
she was driving, her legs would be closed.

   4

   Jason donned his shirt and watched Sharon fasten her jeans.  He picked
up his pants and slid them on.  He wondered if he was the luckiest man
alive; and he had to be a man, didn't he?  He was having sex regularly,
with a woman nearly twice his age, and doing things that could be
considered illegal, conspiratorial and was definitely immoral.  Doing it,
he felt powerful.  He felt like a man.

   Sharon finished dressing, "show me how it works."

   Jason sat in Kim's chair and opened the lower left hand drawer of her
desk.  When Sharon had searched Kim's desk, the drawer had been empty, now
a laptop computer sat there, its lid folded and four wires snaking out the
back.  Jason lifted the lid and the blank screen cleared and the log-in
prompt appeared.  Jason typed the password Sharon had chosen and a small
black video screen appeared.

   "The program is always running," Jason explained.  He pointed under the
desk and Sharon crouched down to look where he indicated.  "This switch
here," he touched a tiny footswitch, "starts things up." He pushed down on
the switch with his right foot.  Under the desk a tiny lamp illuminated the
recess under the desk and on the computer screen the black window changed
to show Sharon looking at the switch and Jason sitting in Kim's chair.  He
nodded to the screen, "as long as the switch is pressed, the video camera
is on and recording and the video is being uploaded to a web page, just
like you asked."

   He had enjoyed making the web page and more than once he had masturbated
to the pictures and videos that Sharon had given him.  On the screen Sharon
watched everything that Jason was showing her.  She was elated at the
quality; the light helped to obscure any shadows.  Jason released the
switch and the video display on the laptop's screen once again went black
and the running counter in the video window stopped incrementing.

   Jason reached into the open drawer and opened the web browser on the
laptop.  He typed in the URL and the page he had created opened.  On the
screen a picture of Kim appeared, one from her dancing at the club.  Her
legs were spread and her arms above her head.  Her breasts were displayed,
only a small box concealed Kim's pussy.  On the box a caption read, "Open
me up and come on in." Jason clicked the box and the main page appeared. 
Across the top were icons labeled "Pictures," "Video," and a third labeled
"Live." Jason clicked the "Live" tab and the screen changed to a black box.

   Sharon stared at the screen.

   Once again Jason stepped on the footswitch and after about a twenty
second delay Jason's legs and Sharon's face appeared in the box.  Jason
pulled his foot from the switch and Sharon watched the display go black. 
"As long as this switch is pressed, the video will be running and whoever
is sitting here will be live to the world." He did not know the woman's
name, but he knew what she looked like.  "I will take the live feed and
turn it into videos that can be downloaded and saved." To Sharon he sounded
like an excited child.  "It shouldn't take too long until there are lots of
people seeing this page."

   Sharon stood up and pulled Jason to her.  She kissed him, her hands
pulling his hair.  She was wet, the thought of Kim's humiliation fueling
her desire.  She plunged her hands into Jason's pants and within ten
minutes of dressing they were naked again.

   5

   Sharon arrived as Kimberly's house at twenty before seven Monday
morning. Kim greeted her at the door with her brown hair still wet from the
shower.  "Good morning, Miss Reed," Kimberly said with a subservient tone
in her voice.  She hated the way Sharon made her feel; owned, abused and
small.

   "Good morning, Kimmie," Sharon said with a grin.  She looked at her
little dress-up doll, standing naked in her own foyer.  It must be humbling
to be so out of place in your own home, she thought.  The thought made her
grin expand.  "Let's get you dressed, shall we?  We need to get to class
early today.  I have a surprise for you."

   Kim knew she would not enjoy it.  "Yes, Miss Reed."

   Sharon led Kim into Kim's bedroom.  It was amusing how things just
clicked into place, Sharon mused.  Kim was acting as the slave she was,
taking a submissive tone and following Sharon as a pet should.  Sharon
reveled in the power; it was better than sex.  Sharon poked through Kim's
skirts and grabbed one of Kim's original skirts made of black cotton.  She
handed it to Kim and pawed through the blouses and grabbed a white blouse
with a soft lace collar.  "Here you go," Sharon said as she left the
bedroom.  "Hurry up.  We don't have much time."

   Kim followed Sharon to her Dressing Rug and donned the skirt.  Her face
fell and her mouth opened in shock at the length of the skirt.  The skirt
she had worn on Friday and Saturday had been short, the edge of the skirt
playing peek-a-boo with the rise of her ass.  This skirt was a full inch
shorter, but to Kim it felt a mile more revealing.  Her ass was not fully
covered; a good portion of her naked backside was displayed.  The front was
hardly better, the fabric ended just below the apex of her thighs.  Looking
at herself in the mirror, Kim's face was white with shock.  Her pussy,
while covered, was just barely hidden from view, the fabric of the skirt
ended at the edge of her sex.  Any movement on her part and her sex would
be revealed.  She wanted to scream, she wanted to hide, and she wanted to
flee the evil grin that crossed Sharon's face.  But she couldn't.  Her home
depended on her going along.  Swallowing heavily she pulled on the blouse
and with a forced smile she followed Sharon from her home.

   The warm air caressed her pussy like a lover and her skirt rubbed
teasingly against her ass.  Her head was bowed in shame until Sharon called
her on it and with the harsh words she raised her blushing face to the
world.  The sounds of the morning went unnoticed, only how she was dressed
crossed her mind.

   "Get in and spread," Sharon commanded.

   Kim climbed into the back seat.  The first thing she noticed was that
the skirt pulled up as she sat and even with her legs held together her
pussy was displayed as was her lack of panties and pubic hair.  The skirt
was too short!  Sitting demurely still revealed her sex.  Red-faced, Kim
parted her legs, her nakedness displayed, and her pussy gaping and
demanding her attention.  Kim's pussy opened with her legs in its own
parody of a smile.

   Sharon watched her struggle with her pose and savored the humiliated
look on her face.  Grinning with how easy things were, Sharon said, "new
rule, Kimmie.  You are not allowed to cross your legs.  Got it?"

   Kim hated those two words.  "Yes, Miss Reed." Dressed as she was, she
could not wait to get to class to hide behind the safety of her desk; it
wasn't as preferred as her home or the strip club, but at least it was one
of the few places she felt hidden from view.  The humiliation was still
there, only the exposure was absent.  She wondered at the realization that
a strip club, naked in front of countless strangers, was a reprieve from
her almost constant embarrassment.

   Sharon backed from the driveway and drove to the campus.  "Remember,
keep your head up.  If I have to tell you, you'll pay for it.  Got it?"

   "Yes, Miss Reed."

   It took ten minutes to get to work and when they parked Sharon was
almost bouncing in joy.  She was looking forward to showing the bitch her
surprise and she had not asked to be humiliated.  Monday was shaping up to
be a very good day.  She parked the car and barked, "Let's go."

   Kim followed Sharon into the school, tugging her skirt lower with almost
every step just to keep her pussy covered.  Her nether lips peeked from
beneath the skirt with each step.  Sharon watched her and on the spot made
up another rule, "Kimmie, stop tugging at your skirt.  In fact, you may
only adjust your skirt at each end of a trip.  So, you can adjust it when
you get out of the car and again when you get to class.  Or you can adjust
it when you put it on till you get into a car.  Got it?  You will not
adjust it while you are walking.  What is the rule?"

   She enjoyed the humiliation as Kim repeated, "I am not allowed to adjust
my skirts while walking."

   Sharon smiled cruelly, "let's change that to clothes, shall we?"

   Kim nodded with her eyes wide, "I am not allowed to adjust my clothes
while walking."

   "Perfect."

   Sharon led Kim into the English wing of the campus.  There were few
students around to witness her humiliating walk.  Kim could feel the skirt
riding higher as they ascended the few stairs into the building.  She could
tell without looking that her pussy was clearly visible to anybody that
happened to be present.  It took all her concentration to not tug her skirt
lower and cover her naked pussy.  She could feel the skirt tickle her ass
and knew that half her ass was on display to the world as well.  Her face
was crimson and tears tickled her eyes.  She breathed a sharp sigh of
relief as she entered her classroom and was able to tug her skirt down over
her sex, even if it was just barely covered.

   "Sit down," Sharon commanded.

   Kim sat.

   Sharon opened the lower drawer of Kim's desk and logged into the
computer that Kim was surprised to see there.  The small black video screen
appeared, "this is gonna be so much fun," Sharon exclaimed and the tone in
Sharon's voice frightened Kim.  "You see this?" she indicated the
footswitch.

   "Yes, Miss Reed."

   "Well," Sharon was smiling broadly.  She savored the power she was
feeling and knew it would be a long time before she tired of toying with
this proper little bitch.  "When you are sitting, you will keep your legs
spread as wide as you can, and one foot will be pushing down on that
switch. Try it."

   Kim inched her chair forward and spread her legs as far apart as the
desk would allow.  With her right foot she pressed down on the awkwardly
shaped pedal.  She could feel the cool air of the classroom caress her sex
and the fabric of the skirt bunch at her waist.  The desk hid her from view
but she still felt exposed.  She glanced at Sharon and seeing the picture
on the computer screen she pushed back from the desk and stood up.  It was
too much.  Filling the screen had been an image of her wide-open and naked
pussy.

   "Sit down!" Sharon's voice was iron.  "You are going to sit her every
day with your legs spread like a woman about to get laid.  There is a
counter and if the time doesn't add up to at least ninety percent of your
day, then kiss your house goodbye.  Got it?"

   Crying now, the last bit of control she may have had slipping away like
time, Kim replied, "please."

   Sharon just grinned her evil little I-own-you grin.  She waited, her
eyes raised, for Kim to retake her sinful position at her desk.

   Kim sat back down and slid her chair forward.  She parted her legs,
feeling the burn in her thighs and the walls of the desk hitting her knees.
Once again she stepped on the footswitch.  As she did the light under the
desk came on and the video camera captured the image of the open pussy.  On
the screen Kim could see her nakedness and she could feel her face burn
with shame.  She shifted in her chair and on the screen she watched her
body move.  It was a video, she knew and the view was obscenely blatant. 
Once again she tried to reason with Sharon with a simple, pleading,
"Please."

   Kim Turner went live on the internet.

   Sharon just smiled, "It's just so I can keep track of you," she lied. 
"The counter," she pointed to the run time that incremented on the screen,
"will show me that you're obeying me.  You're students won't see anything."

   Kim wiped her eyes, struggling to stop the tears, knowing her students
would be arriving shortly.  She tried to calm herself, her eyes never
leaving the computer screen and the humiliating display of her naked sex.
She was desperate to close her legs but knew the counter that Sharon had
shown her would reveal her disobedience.  First Sharon, then the phone and
now a computer; each day she lost more of herself and sunk further into
slavery.  She struggled with the knowledge.

   "Enjoy your day," Sharon mocked.  She walked from the room and paused at
the door to watch the bitch struggle to hold her pose.  Smiling she looked
at Kim and said, "Oh, when you get home, move your dressing rug onto the
porch.  Got it?"

   Shit, Kim cussed herself, how could she have forgotten.  With the
humiliation of holding her legs so wantonly spread she was surprised she
could blush even more.  "Yes, Miss Reed." The tears threatened to return.

   They did.