Endless Nudity Ch. 01

My name is Daphne North and I'm an exhibitionist.

I have an exceptional body, with toned abs, high, firm buttocks, dancer's legs, and the sort of boobs that can mesmerize both men and women.

And I love being stared at. I love being the center of attention. Of course, my stuffy, right-wing parents don't approve of me showing off my body for the crowds, so, I have to travel to Fort Lauderdale or Augustus Beach or someplace far away from home if I want to show off my tits and ass and get objectified in public.

I remember one time I went down to Fort Lauderdale during Spring Break with my friend Melissa. She packed a tasteful one-piece swimsuit to wear to the beach, while I packed a burgundy string bikini that was so tiny, it barely qualified as clothing at all.

The tiny bit of material that covered each nipple was only a couple square inches. And I do mean that it covered only the nipples, not the breasts. And the material was very silky and thin. When my nipples got hard, the thin fabric did nothing to obscure the shape of my stiff nipples.

The triangular piece that covered the pubic area was about the size of a playing card. It left my ass completely exposed, with only a thin strip of fabric wedged tightly between my butt cheeks. I couldn't imagine a swimsuit that covered any less and could still be called a swimsuit.

The whole effect was to make me look more naked than if I wore nothing.

I only wore that micro-bikini to the beach once. I went there with Melissa. Melissa is an attractive, young woman, but she was largely invisible as everyone at the beach fixated on my nearly nude body and ignored her completely.

"I can't believe that you're going out in public dressed like that," Melissa said as she kept giving me wide-eyed looks. "I'd be embarrassed to go out in public dressed in next to nothing!"

I flashed her a wicked smile and said, "I think it's exciting. I mean, yeah, there is a sensation of embarrassment, but the more I embrace it, the more my heart pounds, the more my blood heats and I feel energized and alive."

"You're an exhibitionist, you know that? You should have been a stripper."

"My mother would kill me," I said as I swayed my hips, putting my body shamelessly on display. "She's all stiff and stodgy and Republican. If I became a stripper, she'd disown me and kick me out of the house."

"That's probably true," Melissa allowed. "But I can see it in your eyes. And hear it in your voice. Having people stare at your naked body while you gyrate to rock music on a public stage would be a next level thrill for you."

My eyes went glassy for a few seconds as I envisioned the scenario she described. She was right of course, but I could never do it for real. My mother would kill me. Or at the very least, she would cut me off from the family money. And I didn't want that. I'd gotten used to a certain lifestyle that I could only afford with large amounts of cash.

"Okay, yeah. That's true," I admitted. "But it's never gonna happen."

It was Spring Break, and we were in Florida on one of the major beaches. There were plenty of both men and women, most of them were college age. It was almost like they emptied out the colleges from a dozen different states and sent them all to Florida.

Melissa and I walked across the sand towards one of the rocky breakwaters. I put on a pretty good show of wiggling my ass from side to side as I walked alongside Melissa. I was showing off and people noticed. Both men and women openly stared and smiled after they recovered from the shock of seeing a nearly naked woman on the beach.

Melissa wrapped an arm around my waist as we walked and pulled me close. We were hip to hip and walking in sync. I turned to her and asked, "What's this all about?"

"The people on this beach are all looking at you like you're some sort of delicious snack and they're starving. "I'm afraid that somebody is going to eat you if I don't show that you belong to me. Therefore, I'm keeping a possessive arm around your waist until people stop staring at you with hungry eyes."

"Aww, that's sweet," I said.

Call me crazy, but I felt a soft throb in my sex when Melissa said that I belonged to her. So I wrapped an arm around her as we walked and snuggled up against her as much as I could while walking. People still stared, but perhaps the looks in their eyes became less predatory. Perhaps they felt that they had no chance with me because Mel had already staked a claim.

I was ninety-nine percent naked and feeling incredible the way people stared at my body. I felt pride and excitement and I felt a sense of safety as Melissa kept an arm around me and advertised that I was her property. People could stare and ogle my body all they liked, but they knew that I belonged to Melissa, so they had better not try anything more invasive than fixating on me with their intense gazes.

Being almost naked and on display was a heady feeling. But the feeling of belonging to Melissa, of being her possession, was another heady feeling. I felt an intense desire to keep this going, so I talked Melissa into staying on the beach for hours. She paraded me around from one end of the beach and back again, making certain that everyone had a good look at me from every angle. It was a grand, erotic spectacle. And even though Melissa felt that my desire to make an erotic display of myself for hundreds of prurient strangers was weird, she knew that it was something I enjoyed, so she indulged me.

I was swept away after being nearly naked and ogled by so many people. There was a soft, wet pulse in my sex and my nipples were so hard that they ached.

When we got back to our hotel, Melissa smacked me on my ass and called me her "slave girl" and joked that it was a good thing she belonged to me or else I would have been dragged away by one of my many prurient fans.

Melissa was joking, but the idea of being her slave girl stuck in my head, and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

The more I thought about it, the more turned on I became. The thought of being naked, helpless, groped and examined by prurient strangers seemed so intimate and overwhelmingly personal. The idea of putting myself in that vulnerable and humiliating position was unexpectedly thrilling. Eventually, I came up with a mad idea to experience the thrills of slavery without truly becoming a slave.

I would need Melissa's cooperation with my mad plan, but she was a good friend who'd been willing to be my accomplice in other mad plans I'd had in the past. I had great confidence she'd help me with this one.

"Oh my God, Daphne," Melissa exclaimed. "This is a horrible idea! You should seriously have your head examined!"

She thought my idea was self-destructive and reckless, but that didn't mean she wouldn't cooperate. She eventually gave in and became my willing accomplice.

I know people in the Office of Slave Commerce, and I was able to get one of them to provide me with a government issued slave collar with a blank tag. Then I took the collar to an engraver and had them engrave the name Jody Banks and a slave identification number of 12414. I also got some fake papers that declared Jody Banks to be Melissa's property, legally purchased at a slave auction in Seattle.

Strictly speaking, this wasn't legal. It's an act of fraud to issue a slave collar for someone who hasn't been sentenced to slavery. However, when you pay enough in bribes people are willing to overlook a little bit of illegality. And it's not as if I was hurting anybody, right? When you think about it, it was more like I was bending the rules rather than breaking them.

Right?

Neither the slave collar nor the papers would stand up to scrutiny, but Melissa and I soon learned that nobody ever bothers to check. Go anywhere in America and if an attractive naked woman appears in public, wearing a slave collar, submissively allowing herself to be led around on a leash, everyone just assumes that she's a slave. Nobody bothers to go to a government database to verify her status. People have been conditioned to believe that sexually appealing, naked people, with a collar locked around their neck in public MUST be slaves!

Of course, I couldn't pull off my mad plan anywhere near home. Melissa and I would have to travel to some place thousands of miles away for me to play the role of a naked slave. We discussed it, and we decided that we would start out in Fairhaven. It was a suburban town just outside of Augustus Beach. We wouldn't run into anybody there that would recognize us.

On the flight over, I was fully dressed. And when we got to the hotel, I was wearing a disguise. I wore nerdy glasses with thick frames, a tweed suit, and a brunette wig. It was sort of the female version of Clark Kent, but it made me look different enough from myself that nobody would link me to the naked slave girl named Jody.

After we checked into our hotel room and freshened up, Melissa gave me a look and asked, "Are you ready for this? It's not too late to back out."

"Oh, hell yeah!" I exclaimed. "This is going to be the thrill of a lifetime!"

Melissa gave me a concerned look and said, "Just remember, when we go out in public with you as my naked slave, I can't treat you like I normally do. If you're my slave, I can't treat you like a friend. I have to treat you like property. This is going to be a big adjustment for you."

I gave Melissa a brave, determined look and said, "I can handle it. I'm stronger and more resilient than you think. You can be as rough and demanding with me as you think is necessary. Treat me like a naked sex object. I'll forgive you, no matter how mean you are to me."

Melissa still didn't understand how I could enjoy being naked and ogled and objectified, but she agreed to do exactly as I asked. Then I proceeded to strip naked while she watched. Yes, there was a sensation of helplessness and humiliation that washed over me at first being the only one naked, but those sensations were soon joined by an erotic tingling. Then those erotic feelings became more intense when Melissa pulled the slave collar out of our luggage and locked it securely around my throat.

"Oh God," I gasped. "We should get outside. Presumably, you paid a lot of money for me. If you pay a lot of money for a slave, you should take her out in public and show her off and make everybody jealous that you own something so deliciously erotic."

"You're insane," Melissa berated, but she didn't argue. She clipped a leash to my slave collar and then she led my naked ass outside.

My heart sped up and my pulse raced. There was a potent feeling of submission being naked and led around by a leash. Even if this whole thing was my idea, I still felt dominated by Melissa and got swept up in the fantasy of being her property and being forced to exhibit my naked body against my will.

"Keep your hands at your sides," Melissa admonished as she led me through the hotel lobby and out into the parking lot. "Slaves aren't allowed to use their hands to cover up their nudity, so, it's best to keep your hands down there."

"Maybe you should tie my hands behind my back," I suggested. "Or maybe you should buy some handcuffs or cruel metal shackles to lock my wrists helplessly behind me. Then you could be certain I don't cover up my boobs or my sex lips."

Melissa gave me a look and called me a "bad girl" and accused me of giving her naughty ideas. "Keep it up," she threatened, "and I'll start making a list of every naughty idea you give me. And if you still don't stop, I'll force you to endure every one."

My tone was playful. So was hers. But in the end, it didn't matter how much it sounded like we were joking. I knew that bondage was in my future. It was just a matter of time. And it would make me feel even more helpless, which I suspected would make my feelings of arousal become even more intense.

Stripping me of my dignity was becoming my new mission. I wanted it to happen. I just needed to make sure Melissa knew I wanted it, and she would eventually do it to me.

In the parking lot, I was walking around completely naked and shamelessly exposed, apart from my slave collar, while everyone around me was clothed. It was emotionally potent and breathtaking. My breathing became excited, and my sex throbbed with hungry spasms. My nipples hardened and that seemed to cause people to stare at me even more openly than before.

"Come on," Melissa urged as she tugged on my leash. "There are plenty of people in Fairhaven who haven't seen your naked body yet. "We need to give them the opportunity to ogle you as well."

Melissa led me around by my leash, and I was forced to follow. I was made to walk through a gas station parking lot, a bank parking lot and then the parking lot of a strip mall. Eventually, we ran across other naked slaves. Like me, they were naked, young, and fit, however, unlike me, they had welts, stripes, or pink blushes on their cute butts. We discovered a theme.

"All of these other slaves have been punished," I whispered discreetly to Melissa. "I feel left out."

"Oh my God, are you serious?" Melissa whispered back. "You do realize that punishments like that hurt. They sting like the devil. Is that what you want?"

"I want to be immersed in the fantasy," I insisted. "I want to feel like I belong to you. Being punished by you is a part of that. If I'm going to be your slave, you have to punish me. Otherwise, this is all going to feel fake."

Melissa gave me a dubious look. She didn't think I could handle the pain of corporal punishment, but I kept nagging her and insisting it was necessary. I eventually wore her down and got her to agree.

"We're going to start off small," Melissa said. Before we returned to the hotel, we found a shop that sold whips, riding crops, leather straps and other items that could be used to punish a slave. The shopkeeper was warm and congenial as she talked to Melissa, but she treated me like I was some sort of criminal, insisting that I shouldn't touch anything and that I shouldn't bother any of her customers.

"You heard the lady," Melissa said to me with mock sternness. "Keep your hands behind your back and behave yourself."

Her stern tone was fake, but I still felt a throb between my legs when she said it. Something about being naked and chastised by her gave me an erotic thrill. I wanted her to do more of that.

"I highly recommend this for her," the shopkeeper said as she held up a wicked-looking riding crop. She demonstrated how exceptionally flexible it was and then she gently touched the leather tip of the crop to my naked body and traced the furrow of my ass with it.

"She'll respond beautifully to this whip," she said proudly. "You don't even need to swing very hard. A moderate blow will sting enough to get her attention."

I could feel my sex becoming visibly wet and shiny along its slit in front as the woman talked about me like that. I could feel the leather loop of the crop on my skin and the older woman's assessing eyes on me. I could feel the cruel and dominant nature of her personality and my body responded by becoming feverish and excited.

She asked if she could give me a stroke or two with the crop. Melissa politely refused the shopkeeper's offer, but then she also produced a leather strap, and asked if she could demonstrate the use of the strap on my bare buttocks.

I gave Melissa a small nod when the wicked lady wasn't looking and then Melissa told the woman to use the strap on me. Melissa stood behind me and asked questions. She wanted to know how hard to swing, and how to aim the strap with great accuracy so she would hit her intended target.

"Ow! Aaahhh!"

The leather strap stung and left a mark that I couldn't see, but I was assured that the crop would hurt even worse. Melissa ended up buying the leather strap as well as the crop, and we walked out of the store with a delicious stinging sensation across my bottom.

"Why are you smiling?" Melissa asked as she tugged on my leash and led me back to the hotel.

She couldn't seem to understand no matter how much I tried to explain it to her. The stinging pain from the strap made me feel more like a possession. The excitement of submission was immense. The throbbing pain across my buttocks was rapidly accompanied by a feeling that I was under Melissa's control. I couldn't explain why, but something about that made me feel deeply proud.

* * *

My pain tolerance was low at first, but I insisted that Melissa use the strap on me every day. The more she used it on me, the more I adapted. I was becoming more and more like a slave every day. I was able to withstand more and more stinging blows from the strap, and soon my buttocks came to resemble the poor, abused buttocks of all the other slaves in Fairhaven.

Several times, Melissa caught me standing in front of the large mirror in our hotel room and admiring the painful marks on my bottom. The more vivid the color on my abused buttocks, the prouder I felt. Don't ask me why. I still don't quite understand it myself.

"Most slaves hate corporal punishment," she commented as I looked over my shoulder, examining my sore backside.

"I know," I replied. "I guess I'm not your typical slave."

"You're anything but typical, Daphne. Most women I know would hate being forced to go out naked in public. But you thrive on it."

I did thrive on it. The more eyes there were gazing upon my naked body, the more excited I felt. So, Melissa came up with a plan to increase the number of people who would get to stare at my tits and ass.

"A few blocks away from the hotel is the campus of Bidwell University. It's a school for women only, and I've been assured that at least a third of the students are lesbians."

"Oh," I gasped.

"I know how you prefer to be ogled by lesbians."

"I've never really been into men," I admitted.

"I know. I went online and I've been talking to some of the students there. There's a student named Cleo who very much wants to meet with you. I told her I'd bring you by the campus so she could get a good look at you."

I felt tingly all over at the prospect of visiting a campus that was teeming with lesbians. And the prospect of displaying my naked body for Cleo had my blood pumping. I hadn't even met her yet, but I was somehow already feeling submissive to her.

* * *

Scores of women stared at me as Melissa led me naked across the Bidwell University campus. I had been told that a large chunk of the students were lesbians, but to actually see so many young women openly staring at my naked body and taking photos of me with their phones was emotionally potent stuff. Perhaps I was faking being a slave, but to be fully naked while crowds of clothed women stared at me with only sexual interest made me feel as if it was all real. I felt as if I really was Melissa's property.

And when we arrived at Cleo's dorm room, those feelings were boosted. Before I even stepped into her room, Cleo was openly staring at my tits.

"Mel, your slave girl is exquisite! The photos you sent me didn't do her justice!"

I had no idea that Melissa had sent anyone naked photos of me. I turned to Melissa as if to ask for some sort of confirmation of this, but instead of elaborating, she snapped at me.

"Stand straight, with your hands behind your head," Melissa barked, and without thinking, I instantly obeyed. Of course, this is a posture which forced me to thrust my tits brazenly outward.

"She's a real beauty. Feel free to touch her all over," Melissa said gregariously to Cleo.

A wicked smile spread across Cleo's face, and I blushed as she examined me closely. She forced me to open my mouth so she could examine my teeth. She also ran her hands up and down my back and my firm, taut abs. She patted and squeezed both cheeks of my sore buttocks. She spent a great deal of time examining my breasts, playing with my nipples, and enjoying my reactions as I moaned and squirmed. My nipples became so hard that they ached, but I kept my hands behind my head, even as my sex throbbed and wave after agonizing wave of desire passed through me.

"Ohhhhh," I moaned. I twitched and gasped, and then my feelings of desire were exacerbated as Cleo reached a hand between my legs and grasped my swollen, sensitive pubic lips.

"She's soaking wet," Cleo exclaimed as she played with my pussy. "It's like she enjoys it when I treat her like this."

The truth was, I did get a thrill from Cleo treating me like a naked sex object, but I couldn't just say that, could I? Sex slaves never voiced their own preferences. They just meekly followed orders.

I tried not to wriggle and squirm too much as Cleo massaged my sex lips with her fingers. Then she found the entrance to my vagina and thrust two fingers inside me.

"Oooooh!"

"Oh, she is so adorable," Cleo said enthusiastically as she brought me close to orgasm and then withdrew her fingers from my sopping wet pussy. "I can see why you bought her. She's so much fun to play with."

"I drug her every day with a potent aphrodisiac," Melissa said, "And I don't allow her to masturbate. I ration her orgasms; as a result, her pussy is almost always wet. She would do just about anything for an orgasm."

"She must hate that."

"Yes, but she's a lot more fun that way."

"So, if I promised her some sexual relief, but she had to endure a humiliating and painful public spectacle first, she would be okay with that?"

My eyes widened and my heart sped up. I didn't know what she had in mind, but I felt a surge of emotion just thinking about it. I already felt vulnerable, being the only one naked. Whatever Cleo had planned was making me nervous.

"You sound as if you have something in mind," Melissa said, and she raised one eyebrow at her new friend.

"Oh, I do," Cleo insisted. "I'll have to make some phone calls first, but it shouldn't take too long to organize."

I whimpered as Cleo made her phone calls. She intended to have her plan take place on the campus athletic field. She invited twelve or thirteen of her friends, however there would be plenty of bystanders to witness my humiliation as well. It was a large school and there would be plenty of students in the athletic field during the day.

* * *

It was quite a scene on the athletic field. I had never experienced anything with an emotional punch this powerful. Suddenly, there were countless eyes on me. Being so blatantly eyed by so many students, plus a track and field coach and a few members of campus security, and a few women who might have been teachers, I felt like I truly was Melissa's sex slave. Nervous and excited, I shifted from one foot to the other and felt myself blushing furiously.

Somehow the blatant stares of so many women made me feel even more naked than naked. It was a delicious feeling. I was scared, but thrilled.

I was flanked by both Melissa and Cleo. One of them placed their hand on the small of my back, and Cleo spoke in a loud and commanding voice.

"This naked girl is named Jody. She's a sex slave. She's visiting our campus along with her mistress."

Melissa waved and introduced herself, and then Cleo continued.

"Melissa has graciously allowed me to make use of her slave. I felt you would all be entertained by seeing her go over my knee and get her beautiful ass reddened. She's already naked and exposed. You already get to admire her perfect body as she's forced to show it off, but you'd love it even more if she were whimpering and crying, struggling, squirming, and bouncing across my lap, as I spanked her. Am I right?"

There was a thundering of applause and shouts of agreement. I was naked and surrounded by fully clothed women who were boisterous in their insistence that they wanted to see my already sore buttocks punished by their friend.

I was scared and trembling, but overall, I was enthralled. I loved being in a situation of naked peril and wanted it to continue. I took a deep breath and felt my breasts rise and fall. I had surrendered all my dignity, self-esteem, and self-respect. And now dozens of women were about to watch me get a bare-assed spanking.

There was a folding stool for Cleo to sit on. She planted her ass on it and patted her lap and said, "Okay, slave. Crawl over my lap."

My arms and legs were shaking as I climbed over Cleo's lap. It was a new level of shame for me to submit to a spanking while so many people watched, but I bit my lower lip, and I forced myself to go through with it. I tried to ignore the excited throbbing in my loins as I draped my naked body across Cleo's thighs. and I lowered my hands to touch the ground.

As I lay over Cleo's lap, my body was flooded with potent sensations of crushing shame and feverish excitement. The way I was positioned, my head down, my thighs parted, my bottom raised up high and prominently on display for everyone to examine. The track and field coach and some of the students had wandered closer and were perfectly positioned so they could stare at my indecently exposed delicate pink anus and bald, swollen pubic lips.

"Arch your back and raise your ass up high," Melissa ordered, insisting I make it a more inviting target. I felt my face heat up with shame, but I obeyed without a word.

"After this is over, you get an orgasm," Cleo said as she rubbed her fingertips across my bare buttocks. "You'll like that, won't you?"

I trembled and admitted that I was looking forward to it very much.

Cleo's right hand cupped one of my buttocks and then she stroked the curve where the thighs and buttocks merged. She spent a good deal of time fondling my buttocks before spanking them. I began to pant, somewhat impatient for my punishment to begin and then I felt her fingers working their way into the furrow between my buttocks.

"Aaaahhhh."

I gasped when I felt fingertips stroke the soft, pink flesh of my anus. I wriggled my hips, and the women standing behind me laughed and made comments of approval. They liked the way I squirmed.

I desperately hoped that Cleo wasn't going to thrust her fingers into my ass, especially not with so many people watching. The thought of being anally violated while dozens of strangers watched was just too unsettling for words. I bit my lower lip and struggled to maintain my composure.

I sighed with relief when Cleo pulled her hand away. Of course, immediately thereafter I felt the stinging slap of her hand across my bottom.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

My whole body reacted to the pain. Cleo proceeded to bring her hand down on the innocent curves of my ass again and again.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ooooow!" I cried out as the college student brutally assaulted my buttocks. Reflexively, I squirmed across her lap and kicked my legs. Tears welled up in my eyes and droplets of sweat began to bead on my torso as she inflicted red-hot torment on my innocent buttocks.

I sobbed and writhed across Cleo's lap. I was squirming so much that I was in danger of falling off her lap. Several times Cleo had to grab me around the waist and pull me tightly towards her to keep me from falling. Then she began to spank the backs of my thighs, which hurt even worse than when she spanked my buttocks.

"Aaaaahhhhhhh," I cried out and continued to bounce and writhe across her thighs. My ass felt cooked by the time she was finished, and I was sobbing uncontrollably. Cleo ordered me to get off her lap.

Once I was standing on shaky legs, scores of women watched as I whimpered and sobbed and rubbed my poor bottom. They seemed entranced as they watched me naked and in pain, and then Cleo explained she had a plan for another activity to entertain the crowds.

"So, pretty girl, why don't you fondle yourself? Touch yourself all over. Knead your breasts and play with your pussy. Make it as erotic as possible."

I took a look around and noticed that the assembled crowd of spectators had grown. When I first walked naked onto the athletic field, I had an audience of maybe two dozen people. Now, it looked as if there were more than a hundred prurient sets of eyes focused on my naked body, impatiently waiting for me to touch myself.

I felt exposed, humbled, humiliated, and cruelly objectified, and I moaned with embarrassment, but my heart raced with sexual excitement as well. I wallowed in my feelings of debasement and objectification.

My head was reeling. I was a naked, humiliated damsel in distress. I was cruelly degraded and objectified for these women's entertainment. The athletic field was crowded with spectators, and they surrounded me. My naked body was the center of their attention, and they openly stared at my tits, ass, and bald pubes. I felt overwhelmed by all the respectably clothed people with their intense stares, and I froze.

For a few seconds I couldn't move. Then Melissa pulled out the leather strap and warned me, "Slaves that fail to obey orders get whipped."

That spurred me into motion. I placed one hand on my abdomen. I rubbed my flat abs gently in slow, clockwise circles. An endless crowd of eyes watched and waited for me to do more.

Then, at Melissa's urging, I slid my hand up to one of my breasts. I palmed my left breast and brushed my thumb across my nipple. The pink, delicate flesh stiffened at my touch, and I made a sound halfway between a moan and a gasp.

With scores of women watching me, I cupped one of my breasts in my hand and my thumb slowly and repeatedly brushed across my nipple. An agonizing wave of desire passed through me, heating my loins, and causing my sex to throb.

"Good girl," one of the nearby women exclaimed. "That's sexy. Keep that up."

I tried to say something along the lines of "Yes, ma'am," but all that came out of my mouth was a strangled moan. My vocal cords thickened, and my throat constricted as delicious, tingly sensations permeated my entire body.

For years, I'd had fantasies about being naked and ogled by a large crowd of clothed strangers. Now that it was finally happening, it was so much more potent and stimulating than any fantasy. My pulse raised, my heart pounded in my chest and my breathing was frantic.

Melissa insisted that I make a lewd, enthusiastic display of playing with my breasts. So, I used both hands to grab them, push them together, flatten them out, push them up and knead them like bread dough. Then, I rubbed my thumbs across my nipples repeatedly, making them even more stiff and erect than before.

"Ohhhhhh."

I squirmed my hips as the pleasure I was inflicting on myself caused my sex to throb. It was humiliating to do this in a public setting, but I squeezed my breasts and played with my nipples, much to Cleo's delight. She urged me to become increasingly adventurous in the exploration of my body.

"Oh, aaahhh!"

I felt a sense of shame and humiliation as everyone watched me touch myself, but I kept going. I kneaded and squeezed my breasts, rolled and pinched my nipples, and I spread my legs pornographically wide so I could have my sex lips on display when I reached down and rubbed my pink slit.

"Ooohhh," I gasped. My pubic lips were swollen, and I felt a wet pulse as I rubbed my fingertips up and down the line of my sex. The swarm of delicious tingling sensations doubled and redoubled, and I found the orgasm inside of me building in strength.

I spread my legs ever further apart, feeling like a libidinous slut, but my feelings of shame and degradation didn't slow my hands down one bit as I worked two of my fingers up and down my exposed labia.

The track and field coach pushed closer to get a better look. The nearby students parted and let her move forward so she could take up a position merely inches away from where I was standing. She was close enough that she could reach out and touch me as I made gasping sounds, played with my pussy, and jerked my hips and pelvis in a suggestive manner.

She made intense eye contact with me before I averted my eyes and looked down. I stared down at my own pussy and my hand instead of meeting her prurient gaze.

It was embarrassing to have her and so many other women watching intently as I stood there naked and doing something so intimate. And yet, instead of trying to run away and hide, I surrendered my dignity and my privacy. I surrendered myself completely, and spread my legs even wider, making my pussy even more visible to the enthusiastic gazes of my audience.

"She seems even more naked now," Cleo observed. "With her legs spread so wide and her bald pubes indecently on display, it's like a whole new level of nudity."

"Oh, I agree," Melissa replied. "It's a shocking level of nakedness. Most women are never this naked."

More than a hundred eyes were on me as I bared my naked body and rubbed my pussy with ever increasing enthusiasm and boldness. I felt shameless. I felt like I was a bad girl for doing this in front of so many people. A good girl would have refused to finger her own pussy while students and teachers watched, yet I couldn't stop, and my fingers kept going as if they had a life of their own.

I was indecently exposed outdoors with all my naughty bits shamelessly on display, while Melissa, Cleo, the track coach, and everyone else were respectably clothed. My hard nipples and bald, hairless pubes were erotically on display, while Cleo wore blue jeans and a tasteful, black t-shirt. The stark discrepancy between Cleo's status and mine made my heart pound madly in my chest and my loins throb with feverish lust.

I took a deep breath and rubbed my fingertips across my hard, swollen clit. I gently pulled back the hood from my engorged clitoris. I moaned as I used one hand to roughly roll one of my nipples and the other hand to stroke myself between my legs.

I whimpered and squirmed as I used my fingers to work my sex lips apart and slide deep into my vagina, while I used my other hand to knead my breasts and pinch my nipples, getting them harder and harder until they ached.

"I love how hairless and exposed she is down there," one of the women said as I worked my fingers deep inside my pussy. "It leaves her cute, puffy pubic lips so brazenly on display."

The woman stared directly between my legs as I probed my moist interior. I felt utterly shamed and degraded, just like a real sex slave, as everyone on the field watched me.

My sex spasmed and my vaginal muscles closed tightly around my fingers as a potent orgasm began to take hold. I tensed up, thrust my pelvis forward. Everyone on the field watched with rapt attention as my legs trembled, and I bit my lower lip.

"Ohhhhhh!"

I rubbed my swollen clit and gasped like it was the most incredible thing ever. Then I roughly kneaded it, squeezing it and rolling it with shameless abandonment as everyone watched.

"Huh... uhh. Huhhh! Uh! Aaahhh!"

My orgasm got closer and closer, forcing me to moan and gasp louder. When the orgasm finally hit, my whole body tensed up. I shuddered, stiffened, I threw my head back and let out a long, libidinous scream and took one quick look at my audience before tightly screwing my eyes shut.