Chased by Crazy Amy

A young man loses his clothes at a party

This is unlikely to ever happen, and I would be surprised if it did, so please do not read a lot into this story. It's a fantasy. All characters are over 18 years old.

* * * * * *

It was a pleasant July night at Amy Sommer's sprawling suburban ranch house outside Midvale. The eighteen guests were former students from the university, now settling into new jobs or preparing for graduate school. My family wanted me to pursue a post-graduate degree in engineering, hoping I'd build a famous bridge, but I wanted to take a year off.

The trouble began when Brad Rittman, Amy's current boyfriend and ex-member of the football team, showed up with a new party drug. He called it rabbit juice, though I supposed it was a hallucinogen, like molly or ketamine. The drug came with a felt-lined collar where beads from a glass bottle were eye-dropped into the lining and absorbed through the skin. I preferred beer, but several of the ladies were curious, giggling at the possibilities.

My name is Justin Pollard, 24-years old, 5'10, 150 pounds, and modestly athletic, but only good enough to be the lowest ranked member of my tennis team. Ruffled brown hair, deep brown eyes, and a ready smile kept me popular with the ladies. Not always popular with the guys.

I really liked Amy, and thought she was wasted on a bloated shallow bully like Brad. She was elegant at 5'8, with long blonde hair, lovely hazel eyes, and deliciously round in all the right places. Places I wanted to know more about. My mild flirting seemed to irk Brad, though I was always careful not to be inappropriate.

Brad and three of his buddies spent part of the evening huddling in the backyard smoking weed, generally ignored by everyone except me. They were up to no good, though I could never have guessed what they were planning. Most of the guests were out by the pool, enjoying the warm night. Swimming, drinking, and listening to music. I maintained a healthy distance from Amy when Brad was around.

"We have a new thrill," Brad finally announced. "It's 100% safe, and 100% fun. Amy, as our host, why don't you go first? Show us how it works."

"How does it work?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"Let's get this collar on you, add a few drops of joy juice, and we'll see," Brad replied, buckling the leather strap around her neck.

Amy was wearing a bikini under her short purple silk robe. Two of her best girlfriends, Becky and Jalana, were also in swimsuits. Eight of the ladies had switched to pants and blouses as the night began to cool. I still wore swim trunks and a t-shirt, belatedly noticing Brad and the other eight guys had all changed into their street clothes.

Amy looked a little nervous as Brad opened the vial and used an eyedropper to lightly soak the collar's felt lining. She smiled when he finished and stepped back. Then her eyes opened wide, closed, and opened again, looking a little startled. She did not appear distressed. If anything, it looked like a new energy was invading her. She straightened up, perky and ready for action. Everyone noticed the startling change.

"Now for some fun," Brad said, waving to his best buddy. Mark opened a canvas bag to take out an electric rod of some sort. It was lightweight, about 18 inches long, with a trigger device at one end and a red tip on the other. It looked like the shock wands used in porn videos. Amy accepted the wand without comment.

"Amy, my love, we are now going to play a chase game," Brad said, kissing her on the cheek. "You will use this wonderful toy on one of our guests. See how many times you can zap him in ten minutes. Does that sound like fun?"

"Wonderful fun," Amy answered, her eyes scanning the dozen men congregated on the patio.

"You know who you want, don't you?" Brad nudged.

"Yes," Amy replied.

"Then go get him," Brad urged.

Amy took a hesitant step towards me. And another, holding out the wand. She pressed the trigger, making the tip light up. At first I thought she was joking. Before I saw the evil grin.

Oh, fuck! I thought.

As Amy charged, I turned and ran into the house, heading for the front door. Brad's friends were there ahead of me, throwing the deadbolts.

"Not this way," Mark said, blocking my path.

I went toward the kitchen, but Amy cut me off, laughing as she pursued me around the dining room table. I bumped into a chair where she briefly caught up, the wand touching my thigh.

ZAP! Fuck, it hurt!

I scrambled away, jumping over the couch, pushing easy chairs into her path, and breathing hard as I sought to avoid another zap. Amy's eyes were filled with excitement, eager to deliver the next blow.

"Amy! Stop! Wake up!" I shouted.

She never said a word and never paused. And she was fast. I needed everything I had to keep ahead of her. Trapped against the rear sliding door, I emerged back on the patio. Guests moved out of the way as I ran for the pool. They were laughing and taking pictures with their phones. Amy was on my heels. I jumped in the water, hoping it would short-circuit the wand if she followed me.

"The ten minutes are up," Brad declared, displaying a stopwatch. "Let's see the results."

Amy stood near the barbeque pit, the wand down. Gathering her breath. I climbed from the pool, shaking water off. Brad and Mark dragged me to the patio where they examined my body before the assembly. There was a red circle on my thigh.

"Zapped anyplace else?" Mark asked.

"No," I answered.

"We need to find out," Brad insisted.

Before I realized what they were doing, Brad pulled my t-shirt up over my head, yanking it off. Mark knelt on the decking tugging down my swimming trunks. I hadn't been wearing underwear. It left me standing stark naked before the entire group, hands trying to cover myself.

"Let's have a closer look here," Brad said as he turned me around for inspection. I attempted to struggle, but it was two to one, and they were bigger.

"Only a single mark," Brad concluded. "Sorry, Amy, that's not a good score. Would you like another chance?"

"Oh, yes, I can do better," Amy gratefully answered.

"No, once was enough," I protested.

"Look, Justin, you're already naked," Brad said. "We may as well play the game."

"Don't quit now!" someone in the crowd shouted.

"I want to see Amy get a better score," Jalana requested.

"Is he going to run around the house again?" Becky asked. "It's still a mess from the last time."

"I believe we can make this round more interesting," Brad suggested.

Held by my arms, the guys drew me to the tennis court, currently deep in shadows, and pushed me through the chain-link gate. It was surrounded by a 12' high fence.

"No. Guys, don't. Why are you doing this?" I pleaded. Brad drew me aside, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one could hear.

"You like my girl? Okay, you've got her," he whispered.

"I never crossed any lines," I insisted.

"Everyone here knows you've got it bad. We see it every time you look at her," he replied. "Not that I care. I was going to dump her anyway. At least this way, you pay a price and I don't look like a fool."

"Isn't there another way?" I begged.

"Be thankful I'm giving you this much," he replied, smacking my ass with a racquetball paddle.

I staggered to the net, not happy about his attitude. Brad added more juice to Amy's collar and removed her robe, leaving her in the skimpy red bikini and sandals. She raised the wand, entering the tennis court, ready for another try. I saw Brad padlock the gate behind us. We weren't getting out of there without help.

And there was more. For some reason, the number of party guests appeared to be growing. Where there had been eighteen before, now the number looked like twenty-five. All classmates from the college. They were taking photos and texting.

"Amy, you need to think about this," I said, holding up my hands. "It's getting out of control."

"You've ignored me long enough, Justin. Smiling at me. Flirting. Teasing. But never making a move. You can't ignore me anymore," she answered.

I crept to the back of the tennis court, deeply shadowed by pine trees. Only light from the house and pool yard showed, and they were weak. Amy had to squint, trying to see me. I remained motionless, kneeling in the corner.

Suddenly, one of the overhead floodlights activated. And another, and another. The tennis court was soon fully illuminated, leaving no place to hide. I jumped up and ran as Amy rushed forward, the wand extended. Our audience was cheering and placing bets as I dashed back and forth, running naked from a woman who was close to naked. The spectators thought it great sport. Maybe I would have, too, if I'd been on the other side of the fence.

She caught me, zapping my foot as I leaped over the net, and again on a calf while I was rolling away. She jumped the net. I jumped back, getting winded. Amy looked fresh, not missing a step. I'd never seen her so excited. So engaged. So thirsty for the hunt.

"Amy, please," I implored, not sure how long I could keep it up.

"Get on your knees and beg for mercy," she laughed, her hair flinging wildly.

I knelt on the green asphalt as she approached and watched her extend the wand. Bowing my head in submission. Our audience grew quiet. But then, at the last second, I jumped up and ran in the other direction. She frowned, feeling tricked.

"I'll get you!" she swore.

God, she must have looked so sexy! If only I'd had a moment to look back at her.

Having run out of options, I made a leap for the fence. Sticking my bare toes through the chain-links hurt. Amy was right behind, getting a full contact ZAP on my butt! She only missed my balls by inches. Soon I had scrambled high enough to be out of reach.

"Time," Brad announced, getting disappointed moans from the audience. He unlocked the gate.

"Honey, that was great. You really scored some points there," he said, helping her back to the patio. His assessment received applause.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she shyly answered.

I didn't trust Brad to let me out, crawling over the top of the fence and dropping to the ground near the pool. I was immediately surrounded by curious onlookers counting the red marks on my body.

"Don't tag any of those photos," I complained.

"Are you kidding? We're tagging all of them," an admirer said. "This is the greatest match since Billie Jean King faced off against Bobby Riggs."

I hadn't thought of it like that. Could this be called a sports event? It wasn't an outlandish thought. There were two competitors battling it out on the same field, with spectators. Placing bets. And it was kind of fun.

I relented, deciding a few naked pictures weren't going to hurt. Though I did keep at least one hand in a strategic position. The mood relaxed, though no one was in a hurry to find my missing clothes. As someone brought me a beer, I noticed Amy being congratulated by her girlfriends. Brad still had the vial of rabbit juice, holding the eyedropper.

"Okay, boys, let's get ready for round three," he announced.

Should I have seen it coming? Of course I should. But I was enthralled by Amy's virtually naked body, panting from the chase. A hand pressed over those glorious breasts. Her perfect pink flesh glistening with perspiration. The bright light in her eager eyes. The way she stood, poised and ready. All I could think of was--

My arms were suddenly grabbed. I struggled but too late, not that it would have helped. My hands were forced behind me and zip tied.

"Don't. This isn't fair," I grunted.

"It's even odds," Brad answered. "We'll give you the entire house, patio, and front yard to run in. If Amy scores more points than the last round, we'll give you a chance to lower the score again in the tennis court. You guys were so great there, under those bright lights. Perfect conditions for our cameras. If you get fewer zaps than last time--well, we'll need to see about that."

He went to apply more juice to Amy's collar. Her eyes lit up. Seeing her gazing at me with such breathless passion inspired disgraceful thoughts. I wanted her so bad, but this was not the time or place to let everyone witness an embarrassing physical reaction. Doing my best to suppress such natural instincts, I started running.

I tried circling the pool, but party guests kept getting in my way, having great fun with the game. Admittedly, it was extremely embarrassing, but it might have been fun for me, too, if not for the cattle prod.

Nearly cornered by Amy and two of her girlfriends, I made a break for the house. It wasn't just Amy hot on my heels, but the entire assembly. Thirty or more. Like one of those action movies where big crowds follow a fist fight through a small town. Hell, I would have been following, too, if I wasn't the one being chased.

I was able to maneuver around furniture for a few minutes, until spectators started getting in the way. Usually, it wasn't deliberate. They just wanted a good view. Amy paused, adjusting her collar. Was the juice wearing off? No. Adjusting the collar threw another bolt of energy into her.

The living room doors had been blocked during the first round, but Brad said I would have the front yard this time. I stumbled for the door, finding Mark holding it closed. He smirked. Amy was closing in on me, and I had no place to hide.

There was a ZAP on my butt. I howled. Mark laughed and opened the door.

I charged out on the front porch, down a shallow flight of steps, and looked for a place to hide. There were a few trees and shrubs, but nothing promising. I looked to the driveway, maybe to run back to the patio along the side of the house, but a growing crowd was already blocking the way. Amy flew off the porch, coming straight at me. I ducked to one side, then the other, as she jabbed with joyous glee. Good Lord was she hot! If I hadn't been zip tied, I'd have grabbed her right then and there, on the lawn, audience or no audience. Taken her like I'd always wanted to. It was a shameful thought.

"You're getting tired, Justin," Amy taunted.

"You keep me inspired," I answered.

"Lay down and I'll only zap you five times," she offered. "Or until the battery runs out."

"Tempting," I replied. "But no."

She chased me through a strand of peach trees, around a marble fountain, and into a hedge of bamboo. The bamboo really hurt. I desperately managed to reach the front gate going out to the street, but it was padlocked.

Everything around me closed in. It was like one of those surreal dreams where you're in a strange place, naked, with dozens of people mocking you, and you're helpless to do anything about it. Kind of exciting, but not something to dwell on at the moment. She had only zapped me once in the third round, when Mark had blocked the door. Could I avoid more?

No. I realized this was it. After being trapped and zapped, I'd be lying on the ground surrounded by a flock of loyal fans. Nobly defeated. But wait. One hope? I looked at the wrought iron fence.

How tall was it? Four feet? With ivy on both sides. Points at the top, but likely dull. Could I high jump it? Perform a Fosbury Flop?

I had no choice but to try. I stepped back two, three, and then four paces before accelerating. When the crowd realized what I was going to do, a shout went up. No doubt bets were placed. I raced to the fence, turned 180 degrees, and launched myself in the air. I'd never tried anything remotely like this, but having run track in high school, I'd seen high jumpers hundreds of times.

Amy made a last-minute thrust, giggling as she barely missed the heel of my foot. And then I was over. Landing in more ivy. The mob of excited people surged forward as Amy was running for the gate. Did Mark have the key? I made a quick look around, found my feet, and took off down the dark street, streaking like my life depended on it.

At first it seemed that I'd lost her. Needing to unlock the gate gave me a few minutes head start. But the streets were wide and empty. Hiding would be hard. I wasn't just naked. The zip ties made it impossible to use my arms while running.

The street suddenly filled up behind me. Cars. Lots and lots of cars, honking their horns. High beams lighting up everything. I could see Amy's silhouette running towards me. This can't be happening! I thought.

The train station. Could I escape on a train? Jump aboard naked? Even if they threw me off, it would probably be at another station.

My plan must have been transparent as cars zipped by me into the train station parking lot, screeching to a halt. I made a run for the platform. People jumped from their vehicles to watch. I doubt Abraham Lincoln ever had more photos taken of him.

The train pulled into the station, clattering and steaming. Passengers disembarked. I ran into a car, startling everyone, went out another door, and in again, hoping to confuse my pursuit. I didn't see Amy. I did see Jalana and Becky on the platform. I went for the last carriage just as the train was pulling out.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I found myself alone and ducked down in the far back. The tile floor was dirty but I didn't care. I lost track of time but it must have been getting late. I heard the air conditioning. The rattle of the cars as they rocked back and forth. But no people. Until I did.

"Thought you'd gotten away, did you?" Amy said, entering between the connecting doors wearing a frayed bikini. She was breathing hard from the chase but looked fresher than I did.

There was no place to go. Backed into a corner on the last car. I was doomed. Tears filled my eyes and I wanted to cry. Amy gave me the biggest smile. Then she knelt before me.

"Relax, Justin, I'm not on any drug," she said. "It's all been an act."

She dropped the wand.

"I don't understand," I sputtered.

"Oh, please. Brad's buddies couldn't keep a secret if their lives depended on it," she explained. "They told my girlfriends about his plan to overdose me with the rabbit juice and we decided not to let him get away with it. We switched the drug out before the party. I've been good the whole time."

"Why all the pretending? Weren't you embarrassed?"

"Embarrassed? Why would I be embarrassed? That chase was epic! Did you see how excited everyone was? Laughing and cheering. Making bets. Becky won $100. People will be talking about it for years. And even better, all of my friends knew what was going on except Brad and his creepy pals."

"You zapped me," I questioned.

"Yes, that was so much fun. Even if the marks are already disappearing."

I looked down to see she was right. Only a few pink circles remained.

"And don't tell me you didn't enjoy it," she insisted. "You wanted it as much as I did. I saw how hard it was for you not to get hard. Like you are now."

She was correct again. Sitting before her bound and naked, my manly appendage had sprung up like an iron spike. Throbbing. Ready for battle.

"This is humiliating," I whimpered, pulling up my knees.

Amy was patient, finding a comfortable spot on the floor. She produced her phone and a pair of scissors. After checking her messages, she cut through the zip ties. It felt good to rub my sore wrists.

"Thank you," I humbly said. She was still smiling. Thoughts were percolating. And then she moved closer.

"No, I'm the one who needs to thank you," she softly confided. "You were really great tonight. About everything. When my girlfriends and I were planning this, you were the only guy I thought of who could help."

"There's more to your plan?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, much more," she answered with a quiet smirk. "But you've done your share. You're safe now."

"I must admit, you had me scared a few times," I confessed.

"Don't worry, I plan to make it up to you," she said with a daring twinkle in her eyes.

And then she shoved me back against the seats, taking a moment to gaze into my nervous eyes, and pushed my knees apart. She leaned forward. Closer and closer. Her backside delightfully rose up off the floor, and her moist lips went down on me as she bent over, the long blonde hair flailing out across my lap, her fingers cupping my balls. I had never felt such a thing. Never imagined it. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Amy kept her promise. Several times.

We traveled five stops, got off the train, and returned on the other track, making out the whole time. Somewhere in the process, Amy's bikini disappeared. No one ever said a word to us, a devoted young couple traveling together on the late-night express. Naked. It was kind of romantic.

"Checking your phone again?" I questioned as we walked back to the house close to midnight.

"It's a busy evening," she answered.

"What did you do with the rabbit juice?" I thought to ask.

"We put it in Brad's peppermint schnapps," Amy answered. "They should be in full swing by now."

Amy wasn't wrong about that. We snuck into the house while everyone was out back, found clothes, and wandered out to the patio. A show was in progress. In the tennis court.

"How's it going?" Amy asked, standing next to her girlfriends.

"The guys sort of went nuts, like you expected," Becky answered. "That rabbit juice must really be strong. They started hitting peaches around with racquetball paddles. Splattering the shit out of everything. It's a mess."

"How did they get out there?" I inquired, pointing at the bizarre spectacle.

And it was a bizarre spectacle. Brad, Mark, and two of their friends were buck-naked, running around under the bright tennis court lights while everyone was making videos. They were covered in peach slime. Stepping on pits. Dancing like clowns. Laughing like idiots and oblivious to everything.

"We took their clothes, herded them on the court, and locked the gate," Jalana bragged with a giggle, showing us the key.

"That's what those fuckers planned for me," Amy said with a grim frown. "We'll be leaving them out there all night. Where are their clothes?"

"Their clothes went in the firepit," Becky replied.

"These videos will be all over the internet by morning," Jalana said.

I had to give it to the ladies; no payback I ever could have imagined was better.

"You planned this?" I whispered

"Every detail," Amy confessed.

"You are amazing."

"Not jealous that I'm smarter than you?"

"Lots of people are smarter than me. I'm prettier."

"You are not! I'm prettier!" she protested.

"I was drawing big crowds tonight. Bigger than yours. And louder."

"That's only because you looked so sad, and desperate, and pathetic," she grumbled.

"I won every round."

"You did not! I zapped you lots of times!"

"Only because I let you."

"You did not! I got you. Didn't I?"

I allowed the question to hang for a wonderfully suspenseful moment.

"Of course you won, sweetheart. I'm only teasing," I said, pulling her close for a kiss. "You will always win."

"Let's find a room with a lock on it," she suggested.

No argument from me.