Deliciously Naed

My name is Scarlett Grace. I'm 18 and currently in my senior year at Fairhaven High, I had to repeat 5th grade because my dad and I moved around a lot back then. But I currently live with my stepmom and my stepsister. I've known for a long time that I like girls but I'm still in the closet because my family isn't supportive of LGBTQ.

Despite my shyness, I somehow managed to become friends with the most attractive girl in school. She and I are the same age and have a lot of the same classes, but our friendship still seemed unlikely to me.

Elizabeth Iacobescu was the exact opposite of me. While I was 5'0", pale, bookish and shy, she was an impressive 5'10", had an exotic California tan and was athletic and outgoing. She smiled that dazzling smile at everyone in the room and made eye contact with anyone who dared to look her way.

She walked past me as made her way to the teacher's desk and apologized for being late. I couldn't help but be distracted by her perfectly sculpted buttocks as the tight, thin material of her shorts put the shape of her buttocks conspicuously on display. Not only were they tight, but they were also just barely long enough to satisfy the school's dress code. Of course, Elizabeth felt the need to sway her hips bewitchingly as she stood in front of Mr. Dunston's desk. I was hypnotized by her perfect ass in her tight shorts swaying just a few feet in front of me. I didn't even realize that I'd been staring until she turned around and I was confronted by her gaze. She gave me a questioning look and I attempted to pretend like I hadn't been staring.

"You alright, Scarlett?" she asked congenially, and I was forced to think of something intelligent to distract her from realizing I'd been staring at her ass.

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, perhaps a bit too loudly. "I had just zoned out there for a moment. I was thinking about...Starbucks."

"Really?" she said as she took her seat. I'm not sure if she believed me, but she didn't accuse me of being a pervert, so I called it a win. I tried to keep my eyes directed at the teacher or to the notebook on my desk instead of at Elizabeth. Of course, if you knew how stunningly beautiful Elizabeth was, you'd understand what a challenging task I'd assigned myself.

When I did look her way, I tried to limit myself to quick, furtive glances. I didn't want to make my prurient interest in her obvious.

"Psst, Scarlett,"

Elizabeth stage-whispered at me. So much for not looking in her direction.

I turned my gaze towards Elizabeth and made eye contact with her. She had a concerned look in her eyes, and she said, "I just heard we're having a quiz on chapter ten on Friday. Have you read it yet?"

Of course, I'd read it. We were assigned chapter ten as homework. Why wouldn't I read it?

"Yeah," I said, not asking the obvious question in my head. I mean, hadn't everyone in Mr. Dunston's class read it?

"I am totally not ready for that quiz," Elizbeth confessed. "Can you help me? I don't know, tutor me or something?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Chapter ten was about the 30's and 40's. It was a fascinating time in American history. It was about the Great Depression, the New Deal, President Franklin D. Roosevelt, the rise of both fascism and socialism. Even before I took Mr. Dunston's history class, I thought this was a fascinating period in American history.

"I can help," I told her. "But there's not a lot of time before Friday. When do you wanna meet up?"

We arranged to meet both Wednesday and Thursday night for me to tutor her on the 30's and 40's. It would be easy for me. I knew the subject material backwards and forwards. The only possible challenge would be not staring at Elizabeth's bewitchingly beautiful face and body.

I'm a straight A student and I've tutored students before. Normally I charge a fee, but I had a huge crush on Elizabeth. I enjoyed being near her and charging her money seemed like a dick move. I'd do it just because we were friends.

In addition to loving Elizabeth, I also loved history. I considered it to be the story of everything that ever happened. And I loved a good story. So, spending an evening or two with Elizabeth as we discussed American history sounded like lots of fun to me.

Elizabeth wasn't stupid, however, she did seem to me to be intellectually lazy. She had no interest in history, science, civics or English literature and she made little to no effort to learn about these things until she was in danger of failing a test or quiz. I agreed to help her out and promised to bring all my notes over to her house so she could copy them. And I could quiz her on the most relevant historical facts from the chapter. If she paid attention and put in the effort when I tried to help her, she'd pass the test with no problem.

As I figured, Elizabeth got serious when I came over to help her study for the quiz and focused with a seriousness that she never had in class. We stayed at it for about two hours and by the end of the evening she seemed to grasp the material in chapter ten almost as well as I did. And when she wasn't looking, I would sneak peeks at her shapely ass in her tight shorts. It was a guilty pleasure that I never told her about.

Things went about the way I expected they would, until I got home and realized that I'd left one of my notebooks at her house. I went through my stack of remaining books. I had my science notes, my history notes, my civics notes etc. And then I felt a cold chill of panic wash over me when I realized what I must have left behind.

You see, in my free time I write erotic fiction. It seemed harmless to me. I mean, my sexual kinks are a little bit out there, lesbian sex, lesbian femdom, forced nudity, humiliation, public nudity, bondage, that sort of thing. So, I'd written stories about girls being embarrassed and humiliated, stories where girls were made to be naked in public, wear scandalous clothing, and be forced to do humiliating tasks. Also, stories about schools that punished girls with prolonged periods of enforced nudity.

The thing is, I never intended for anybody to read those stories other than myself. They were for my own personal enjoyment. What would happen if somebody else read them? That could be disastrous. If Elizabeth or Elizabeth's mother read any of my erotic fiction, I would likely die of embarrassment.

I texted Elizabeth and tried to find out if she'd found my notebook and asked if she could return it to me without reading it. She never texted me back. I didn't get a lot of sleep that night. I kept worrying what sort of disastrous reaction Elizabeth might have if she read the bizarre, erotic stories that I'd written.

It wasn't until the next day at school that I had a chance to talk to Elizabeth. I was on my way to English Lit class, and I ran into her in the hallway. Her hip bumped gently into mine as she walked past and I said "Lizzie! Got a minute?"

The look on her face was warm and pleasant, so I assumed that neither she nor her mother had read any of the shamelessly kinky things I had written in my missing notebook. I felt increasingly optimistic as she moved closer and asked me what was up.

"I think I may have left something at your house last night," I explained, "a black notebook with a spiral binding. Have you seen it?"

"Oh, the one with the stories about lesbians and public nudity? Oh, yeah. It made for great bedtime reading. I'm only ten pages in, but I'm looking forward to reading the whole thing."

I felt a chill run down my spine, and I gasped. My heart pounded painfully fast in my chest and suddenly my whole bot felt feverishly hot. I stared at my friend aghast and said

"No! Please don't read any more!"

"Oh, why not?" Elizabeth asked, using her innocent Disney character voice. "You're such a talented writer! Such vivid descriptions! You really know how to paint a scene!"

I felt so embarrassed, and I was sure I was blushing three different shades of red, but Elizabeth continued to act like the shamelessly, masturbatory, lesbian fantasies in my journal were no big deal.

"

Please!"

I begged.

"I was thinking of sharing it with some other aspiring writers," Elizabeth said in a teasing tone of voice. "They might find it inspiring."

I gasped again and said, "

You wouldn't dare!"

Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her, gave me a look of steely resolve and said "I like those stories. I think I should keep them. They give me joy."

My heart was pounding in my ears, and I could barely make out the words she was saying, but I desperately wanted to get my notebook back from her before she read any more of it...or shared it with any of our friends. It would be bad enough for my fellow students to learn that I was a lesbian, but there was other stuff in there that's much more bizarre than homosexuality. Elizabeth hadn't called me a sexual deviant or anything yet, but I was still embarrassed that anyone had read the raw, unfiltered, sexual fantasies that lived inside my head. That stuff was so outrageous, I didn't want anybody to know that my brain contained such lewd, wanton, libidinous thoughts.

"Well, what if I gave you something else that gave you joy?" I asked. "What about a trade? What would you consider to be of equal value?"

Elizabeth smiled wickedly at my question, and I should have been alerted immediately that she had something sinister in mind. I'd seen that sort of smile on her face before, but I was so flustered at that moment I couldn't think straight.

I was willing to do whatever Elizabeth wanted in exchange for getting my notebook back and making certain she never shared my lesbian femdom stories. I had a wholesome reputation and I felt that if anybody knew about my kinky side my reputation would be ruined. They'd think I'm some sort of freak if they ever read about my sexual fantasies.

I was told to meet Elizabeth at her house Saturday morning at 8:00 AM. If I was late or didn't bother showing up, she'd show my notebook to a dozen of her closest friends.

She told me to wear my cheerleader uniform. It seemed like an odd request, but we were both on the cheerleading team for our school. Maybe she wanted to practice some new routines? I was so thrilled at not having my secret perversion shared with the outside world that it never even occurred to me that I might be walking into some sort of trap or perilous situation.

* * *

Elizabeth and I live in the same neighborhood. I live on Crosby Lane. She lives at the intersection of Cadolle and Crosby. It's less than seven blocks from my house to hers, so getting there was quick and easy. It was sunny and warm outside, perfect weather for a stroll through the neighborhood. I was in high spirits, partially because I'd be getting back my pornographic notebook and I could stop worrying what Elizabeth might do with it, but I'm sure the idyllic weather helped buoy my spirits as well.

When Elizabeth opened the door to her home, she was dressed all in black attire: a long-sleeved black crewneck, black yoga leggings and very stylish black leather boots.

I suppose I should have taken her black attire as a sign of dark things to come, however I was so pleased that my reputation wasn't to be ruined that I didn't even begin to suspect that something wicked was headed my way.

"I got here five minutes early," I said, flashing a winning smile, "and I wore my uniform, just like you asked."

I noticed that she wasn't holding my notebook, but I shrugged that off as not very consequential. She'd probably invite me inside and then get it from her bedroom or something.

Elizabeth flashed me a warm smile, leaned in closer and said "I'm so glad that you're here. Now, take off all your clothes and you can come inside."

I was dumbfounded and too astonished to respond. I stared at her, certain that I must have heard her incorrectly.

While my tongue was tied, Elizabeth got a stern look on her face and then in a very firm tone of voice she said "I told you to strip. Get your clothes off, all of them. I want to see what you look like naked."

At first, I just stood there with my mouth open, too shocked to speak. When I finally got my voice back, I protested

"Lizzie! People will see me!"

My friend just raised an imperious eyebrow and calmly responded "It's Saturday morning. Most of my neighbors sleep in on Saturday. It's unlikely anyone other than me will see your naked body."

I made some furtive glances over my shoulder. It was true that none of Elizabeth's neighbors were visible on the street at the moment, but that could change at any moment. Early morning joggers could jog by. Old ladies might stroll by walking their dogs. It was a scary thought that I might drop my panties and have joggers and old ladies staring at my naked ass. I tried to explain this to Elizabeth, but she was unmoved by my concerns.

"It's a risk, but the characters in your stories take risks like that all the time. They seem to enjoy the element of danger involved in public nudity," Elizabeth said.

I tried to protest that there were important differences between fantasy and reality, but Elizabeth cut me off in mid-sentence and said "Scarlett, you had agreed to do anything to keep me from sharing your notebook with other people. Are you already backing out of our arrangement?"

"No, I swear," I stammered, panicking that I might have just ruined everything "Look, I'm doing exactly what you asked! I'm taking off my clothes!"

I was too nervous to maintain eye contact with her and my fingers trembled as I attempted to unzip my top. Eventually, I got the zipper down and pulled off my uniform top. My heart was pounding rapidly in my chest as I handed it over.

With my top removed, my demi-bra was exposed and of course my firm, uplifted breasts were exposed and perfectly visible to Elizabeth's intense gaze.

The helpless feeling of surrendering my modesty and allowing Elizabeth to strip me naked caused my pulse to race and my skin to heat up and become feverish. Her aloof, unsympathetic eyes on my exposed flesh gave me a feeling of vulnerability. Soon I would have my naked flesh exhibited to my friend and possibly one or more of her neighbors.

My shoes and socks were next, followed slightly after by my skirt. My hands were still trembling, however, I seemed to be able to work the zipper with less difficulty this time. I slid the skirt down my thighs and handed it over to Elizabeth.

With my bare thighs and high-cut bikini panties visible to Elizabeth's gaze, she seemed to be burning holes into me with her eyes. She had a hungry look on her face, almost as if she wanted to eat me up. Then, I was spooked by a noise from somewhere behind me. I felt panicked and was certain that someone had just got an eyeful of me in my underwear, but it was just the delicate tree branches of a nearby sapling being disturbed by a large crow landing on them.

I panted nervously, like a rabbit that's being stalked by a wolf, however, I couldn't deny that I felt a familiar warmth in between my legs. I just hoped that Elizabeth failed to notice that I was becoming excited at the way she was humiliating and exposing me.

I was afraid that my friend might guess that I was as aroused as much as I was frightened and embarrassed, but I tried to push that to the back of my mind and continued to strip. I was almost naked at this point and since my bra fastened in the front I reached in between my breasts and felt for the clasps. My potent mixture of shame and arousal seemed to intensify as the clasp of my bra came loose and my breasts spilled out. Elizabeth's cold, unpitying eyes almost seemed to be assaulting me. It was as if I could feel Elizabeth's hands on my bare breasts. I handed over my bra and shoved my thumbs into the waistband of my panties. I pushed the bikini panties off my hips and down my thighs, allowing my panties to fall to the ground.

I handed my panties over and without thinking I placed a hand over my shaved vulva. My pubic lips had become swollen with arousal, and I was embarrassed at the idea of Elizabeth realizing that I was getting turned on by the imperious way that she had just forced me to strip in front of her.

"Don't cover yourself," Elizabeth snapped. "Put your hands behind the back of your neck. That's better. Elbows back."

My breasts rose and fell as my breathing became labored. My friend had become an intimidating woman who had me feeling both humiliated and aroused. My heart was beating like a drum, and I was both fearful and aroused that one of Elizabeth's neighbors might walk by at any moment and get an unobstructed view of my naked buttocks.

I blushed feverishly and heard a car engine somewhere in the distance. I begged Elizabeth to let me inside before the owner of that car drove by. I think I might have died of humiliation if she left me out there to be exposed to her neighbors.

"Very well," she said after hesitating and seeming to think it over, "you may come inside now."

An explosive sigh of relief escaped my lips as I walked into Elizabeth's home. Her parents were away for the weekend, so Elizabeth and I had the whole place to ourselves. Knowing that my naked body wouldn't be exposed to anyone else, I believed that I'd already survived the worst of Elizabeth's torments.

I flashed Elizabeth a weak smile and said "Okay, so I got naked for you. Can I have my notebook back now?"

Elizabeth set my clothes down on a chair in the dining room and said "What's your rush? Is there someplace you have to be?"

Elizabeth knew I didn't have any plans for the weekend. I tried to think of a response that would get me my notebook back with as little effort as possible and while I was thinking of the proper words, Elizabeth cupped my breasts with her hands and began kneading them passionately. Despite my intention to try and act aloof and businesslike, I soon found myself moaning.

I began to reach for Elizabeth's hands to push them away from my breasts, but my friend slapped my hands away and said "Don't try to interfere with what I'm doing. Put your hands behind the back of your neck."

Elizabeth's stern, demanding tone triggered my submissive nature and I found myself obeying her commands without even thinking about what I was doing. It was almost as if I were watching somebody else submit to Elizabeth, watching as that girl was subjugated.

I surprised myself by keeping my hands behind the back of my neck as Elizabeth pinched my nipples. Was I really so submissive that I just let her do that without saying a word?

"Your breasts are so high and firm," Elizabeth said as she played with my nipples, getting them insanely hard. "And your nipples are so pale!"

Elizabeth enthusiastically explored my naked body with her hands. She loved my firm breasts, my taut abs, and my smooth, shaved vulva. Then she complimented me on the narrowness of my waist, before grabbing me by my hips and turning me around.

"Lizzie! What?" I asked and then she bent me forward and I had to place my hands on the wall in order to help keep my balance.

"Spread your legs," Elizabeth demanded and once again, I obeyed without thinking.

"You have a truly remarkable butt," Elizabeth said as she stood behind me and squeezed my buttocks. "It's so firm and your glutes are so hard. How did you get such a great ass?"

I was embarrassed to be naked and so intimately examined. I felt like a slave being examined at the slave market. I tried to regulate my breathing to slow down my rapidly beating heart, but it wasn't easy. Trying to ignore my friend's hands wandering all over my naked body, I focused on her questions and replied, "You know, Bulgarian split squats, dead lifts, hip thrusts, the normal things people do to tone their glutes."

Elizabeth fondled my buttocks for a moment more and then said, "Show me."