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 ï>¿Not What She Planned For Election Day by Nature Lover

   Not What She Planned For Election Day - Part 1

   It was Election Day and for most voters in Fairport they would be voting
at the new multipurpose building on the campus of Stevens Community College
(SCC).  To mark the occasion and to show the community everything that SCC
had to offer, the school's art department had put together an exhibition on
"What is Freedom?".  In addition to student and faculty projects which
ranged from paintings to concerts, SCC held an open competition that anyone
could enter.  This was the year all state-wide offices were up for
election, and thanks to a close race for Governor, turnout at the polls was
expected to be at an all-time high.

   In addition to the expected entries, such as homemade flags and
schoolkids' essays on George Washington or the Civil War, there were
several entries that were more...unconventional, though still with a
Freedom bent; artistic freedom...freedom of expression...the Freedom of
Information Act...and in one case a demonstration of how to be free of
cultural restrictions.  A photography exhibit, several videos (including
one with exceptional audio), a series of sketches, prose poetry, what
appeared to be a towel with paint on it (not all art makes sense), and
videos from local law enforcement and other government entities that were
obtained through a Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) request; those were
presented as one entry on three separate screens.

   Once entries started coming in the selection committee realized they had
to set a couple of conditions to be accepted.  First, nothing that could be
considered pornographic.  It was a college art department which gave them a
lot of leeway; they decided nothing that involved penetration.  With one
particular video it wasn't clear; they had denied another video entry by
the same artist that was of an older subject getting to know a bowl of
fruit in a kitchen, so they allowed this one as a way to strike the right
balance.  And anyone portrayed by the art had to be at least 18 years of
age, which had to be confirmed.  Fortunately this was easier than
anticipated, once it became known that they all focused on the same
subject. It also helped that there was a family member who could produce a
copy of the subject's birth certificate.  As is standard, the committee
only communicated with the artists submitting their work; it wasn't their
role to communicate anything to the subject of an artist's work.

   Due in part to the subject matter, but mostly because the entire
exhibition was going to require multiple spaces anyway, this particular
group of entries was given the entire mezzanine; a partial floor that was
one big open space, halfway up from the first floor galleries to the second
floor classrooms where SCC students were hosting talks about their
projects. For some reason a sign was posted at the steps to the mezzanine
instructing anyone under 18 to take the back stairwell or the elevator to
get to the second floor.  The mezzanine was visible from the 2-story entry
lobby, but the exhibits had been installed such that you couldn't see them
from the first floor; voters would be using the same building entry as art
patrons and the art department didn't want to push things more than they
already were.

   By Election Day everything was ready to go.  The polling place, located
in an auditorium on the ground floor, opened on time.  As voters exited the
polling place they were greeted with signs inviting them to visit the
exhibition upstairs, by way of the mezzanine.  One particular young voter,
a 19-year old with medium-length brown hair and pale skin, was there with
two of her friends who were still seniors in high school.  They had gone in
the middle of the day so they could hang out together, knowing their
parents would be by to vote later.  One among the group had a younger
sister, an amateur astronomer, who was of one of the artists entered in the
exhibition; she and a classmate had submitted a photography entry.

   The 19-year old ascended the stairs.  She was chatting with her friends
about the candidates and wasn't paying attention as she entered the
mezzanine.  It was only when the person in front of her stopped suddenly
while another gasped out loud, that she took in the exhibits around her. 
All around her...they were all her...and they showed all of her.

   Caroline (her name was Caroline) couldn't speak, could hardly breathe.
She collapsed to the floor, or would have had the girls on either side of
her not caught her.  Her eyes were as wide as they could get, even though
she wanted nothing more than to shut them tight.  Her pale skin was as red
as it had ever been; had she been as naked in person as she was in the
exhibits, everyone would have seen her blush spread all the way to her
chest.  Her heart was pounding and her skin was hot.  She couldn't move on
her own, but whether out of a misplaced desire to not draw the attention of
others, or a perverted sense of excitement, one friend put an arm around
Caroline's waist while another put an arm around Caroline's shoulders,
trapping her between them as they (very) slowly started to explore the
artwork.



   Not What She Planned For Election Day - Part 2

   The girls maneuvered Caroline to each and every exhibit.  First was
"Ghost Streaker" which showed Caroline's naked form running past the horror
film crew.  Her streak was looped, playing at different speeds from regular
to half- speed to frame-by-frame, never faster than regular.

   Following that was a white towel, plain white with a mix of colors in
the middle, clearly paints that were blended and blurred together, curved
in such a way that was almost symmetrical.  Caroline had no idea whether
people realized it was a print taken directly from her bare ass when she
had to recreate her art studio visit and then sat on the towel as her
brother's friend Eric drove them around.

   Next was a poem written by a woman named Sarah, printed in a huge font
on poster board so that it could be read from a distance.  Lacking anything
visual, it nevertheless managed to convey how aroused, how exposed, and
ultimately how "satisfied" Caroline was the night she found herself hiding
from the police under a table while Sarah methodically and ruthlessly
brought her to climax.  Simply reading about her experience was enough to
get her breathing deeply again.

   After the poetry was a collection of five sketches of a naked model,
each incredible and incredibly detailed, particularly the sketch of
Caroline in a revealing Yoga pose that she had never in her life attempted.
The only person Caroline could think of with that level of skill was the
art studio owner, Abigail.  There was no doubting who the model was, or
that Abigail had drawn Caroline in an aroused state for each of the five
sketches, all of which showed Caroline's rock hard nipples; had she dared
to look closely, the unwilling model might have said the artist even
captured just how wet she was.

   The highlight of the exhibit was the photography entry by the amateur
astronomers, one of whom was the little sister of the girl currently with
her arm around Caroline's waist.  Simply titled "A star is born" over a
dozen photos blown-up to poster size showed Caroline in her birthday suit,
over and over, first approaching then departing as she ran past them that
night.  Every inch of her pale naked body in perfect detail including four
close-ups; one of her bare legs and bare feet, another of her torso from
her uncovered breasts to her exposed pussy, her firm belly separating the
two, a third showing her bare ass and lower back, and the last a gorgeous
still of her face, lips parted as she tried to breathe, eyes wide like a
deer caught in headlights, hair streaming behind her as she ran.  All
frozen so that admirers could enjoy the sight without having to worry about
the subject disappearing too soon.

   Neither the descriptive poem of Caroline's second orgasm of the night
nor the sketches of her third orgasm could compare to "Garden Delight", a
low-light video of her first.  Had it stood alone no one could have known
it was her as it only showed a young woman with medium-length hair lying in
the grass writhing and then on her elbows and knees shivering, but
juxtaposed with the other exhibits it was obvious.  Until now Caroline
thought the images of her naked body were the height of her embarrassment,
but upon hearing the recording of her high-pitched squeal the moment the
Lawn's sprinklers turned on and subsequent moans and heavy breathing caused
by the stream of sprinkler water hitting her exposed pussy, Caroline knew
her humiliation had only then reached new levels.  At the moment when her
orgasm happens, her humiliation was complete - no secrets anymore, no
hiding from everyone she knew.  And she knew she would have to tell her
parents about all of this, lest they hear about it from their friends, or
worse, experience it themselves.

   Almost robotically she moved under her own power to the next and last
entry.  The final exhibit, "Big Brother", coming last in the line of
exhibits as it did, almost served as a warning to all that everything they
had just seen, read, or heard in the preceding exhibits could be observed
by anyone at any time without you ever knowing.  The first clip was the
security footage, obtained but ultimately dismissed by the local police
department and so accessible without tainting a court case that was never
brought.  The second was a traffic cam facing the out-of-service bridge,
showing a young woman leaning over a void, only to jump at something
off-screen before turning and running away.  The third was as revealing as
the astronomers' photos, offering alternating close ups of Caroline's body
and her face as the park ranger was leaning over the edge of the ravine to
help Caroline get her footing, having to adjust his position as they made
progress getting her to safety.

   By this time Caroline was no longer in control of her faculties.  She
had unconsciously taken her jewelry off while looking at the camera
footage. Her mind was disconnected from her hands as they lifted her shirt
over her head.  She undid her bra and let it drop while simultaneously
kicking off her sandals.  She pulled her underwear down along with her
jeans, and shuffled out of them while taking her hair out of its ponytail.
Those closest to her and then the rest slowly realized the subject of all
the exhibits was standing among them, completely naked as she was the night
and day all the art exhibits were created.  Her friends, as stunned as
everyone else, did nothing to cover her up.

   Caroline looked around her, a distant part of her mind knowing she must
be crazy to have just stripped off in public in front of all these people.
Her breathing was heavy and she was sure everyone could see her heart
beating between her breasts as they moved up and down.  Holding her arms
out to the sides like a statue, slowly rotating for all to see, she felt a
need to reclaim some of who she was, to take ownership of her own body back
from the artists who tried to capture her.  Let them look at the real
subject if they're going to see her anyway.

   Until her parents were in front of her.  Her resolve wavered but didn't
quite break, though her fantasy came crashing down as her mind returned to
the present moment, and all she could see or think about was how she was
stark naked in front of her parents, friends, and a mix of strangers and
former acquaintances, all of whom were now more acquainted with Caroline
than she ever thought possible.

   The emotional release was like the aftermath of an orgasm - all her
senses heightened, her anxiety and embarrassment flooding back to her after
her...whatever episode had passed.  Lacking the voice to scream, she gave a
small whimper and managed to resiste the desire to cover herself; instead
she continued to let everyone take in every inch of her pale naked body.

   Except she was still as aroused as ever and teetering on the edge. 
Knowing she couldn't last, she just whispered "I'm sorry" to her parents
and ran for the steps, only focusing on how to get out of there before she
got off in there, and just maybe she could keep that thinnest of boundaries
between her and everyone else.  Caroline ran downstairs and past the line
of voters; those who thought they recognized the blur of a pale body would
have their suspicions confirmed soon enough.  Having abandoned her clothes,
it was left to one of her friends to collect them and run after her, though
where Caroline was was anyone's guess.

   Caroline's other friend, the sister of the astronomer/photographer and a
senior who was headed to college herself next year, stood there transfixed.
Knowing in advance what her sister had done, having helped her develop the
poster-size photos, she was nevertheless amazed and excited at the thought
of what Caroline had gone through.  Much as Caroline became fascinated with
her floormate Natalie's story about her most embarrassing experience, so
too did Caroline's friend start to become obsessed with what Caroline had
experienced.  Victoria (her name was Victoria) began to wonder if she could
ever go through something as embarrassing.
   -fin-