On Tuesday, I was taken back to Bidwell University. Of course, scores of students stopped and stared when they saw a naked woman trekking across their campus.
"Your public adores you," Melissa said as she wrapped an arm lovingly around my waist. I glanced to my left and to my right. There must have been over a hundred people there enthusiastically focusing their attention on my naked body.
"They're enjoying themselves," I agreed. "They probably don't get to see many naked women on campus."
"You're not just
any
naked woman," Melissa countered. "You have the body of a Victoria's Secret lingerie model. You're absolutely yummy. Any of these students could strip naked and walk across the campus and they wouldn't get the same sort of attention that you get. They just don't have the same sort of assets."
"They don't have the same sort of ass?"
"That too," she replied. "All those years of ballet, and even now, you do all those exercises to tone your abs, your legs, and to keep your ass taut and firm. Not many women have a body like yours."
I smiled and blushed slightly as Melissa talked about my body. The students and even the teachers continued to stare at my body with prurient interest. Some of them blew me kisses, and one especially bold woman walked up, patted me on the butt and said, "Well, good morning, pretty girl."
A group of students enthusiastically followed Melissa and me as we walked across the campus lawn and the corridors of the school. They never explained their intentions, but I was certain that they were there to enjoy the view of my naked ass displayed in public.
It was daunting having so many eyes intensely focused on my naked body. Without thinking, my hands would reflexively cover my boobs or my smooth vulva in defensive gestures. Every time I did this; Melissa would snap at me and tell me to behave.
"Slaves are careful to keep their naked bodies on display at all times," she admonished me at one point when my hands went to defensively cover my crotch.
"If you can't control your hands, I'll handcuff your wrists behind your back. Is that what you want?"
When Melissa talked to me like that, it made my heart race and my pussy throb. I had discovered my submissive instincts, and when Melissa threatened me with bondage or punishments, they kicked in and triggered my libido in a profoundly serious way.
With my blood heating up, I crossed my wrists behind my back, thrust my boobs forward and raised my head up as I walked, making my naked body even more exposed and available for the throng of students to ogle.
I felt both embarrassed and aroused when I was eventually ushered into Professor Nowitzki's classroom. Professor Nowitzki was one of the youngest teachers on campus and I found her to be surprisingly attractive. She was tall, lithesome, stylishly dressed, and had high cheekbones. Her smile was cheerful and lit up the entire room.
"Hello, Melissa," she said, greeting my friend warmly. She enveloped Melissa in an enthusiastic hug and then she turned to me and said, "And you must be Jody. You're even more beautiful than I'd dared hope!"
The young professor wrapped her arms around me and held me close. I could feel the fabric of her clothes against my naked body as we embraced, and the contrast of her clothed body to my naked flesh made me feel even more naked and exposed.
Pressing my naked flesh against her clothed body made me feel deliciously submissive to her. I could feel the fabric of the blazer and her skirt against the front of my body. Her tweed blazer rubbed enticingly against my nipples, and they stiffened noticeably upon contact.
"You are absolutely adorable," she said after she broke from the embrace. "It's not just your body either. You have the face of an angel. You look so innocent, yet playful and tempting at the same time."
And then she grabbed me around the waist and hips and turned me around, so I was facing away from her.
"And that ass," she said congenially. "That ass is a walking temptation all on its own. It's perfect! I guarantee you, with an enchanting ass like that, you could probably seduce a straight woman. It's just that magical."
She smacked me across my enchanting ass and told me I could turn around. I could feel myself blushing as I turned to face her again. She was assessing my physical attributes like I was a slave on the auction block. I found it to be humiliating, but at the same time deliciously exciting to be treated this way.
"My students are going to love you," Professor Nowitzki assured me. "Now, stand here at the front of the class. As soon as they're all seated, I'll introduce you and put your charming body on display for them."
Melissa stood by my side and told me to stand with my legs far apart and hands behind my back, wrists crossed, and my tits thrust forward. It was objectifying and deliberately humiliating. It left my naked body as open and displayed as much as humanly possible. The way my breasts were thrust forward, I felt like I was offering them to Professor Nowitzki's students for fondling, ogling or painful punishments.
Young women began to file in and take their seats. They all gazed at me like I was something yummy to eat. Their gazes mostly focused on my indecently exposed vulva, breasts, and erect nipples and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. There was a pulsing fire in my loins as more young women took notice of me and gave me prurient looks. It seemed that every woman in the room wanted me, and they weren't shy about staring and giving me libidinous looks.
After everyone was seated, the professor explained who I was, and how Melissa had unselfishly brought me in to use as a visual aid in an educational lecture on what it was like to be a slave.
"The first component of becoming a slave is giving up your freedoms and privileges," Professor Nowitzki proclaimed to her students.
"Americans enjoy their iPhones, internet porn, expensive Starbucks coffees, cable TV, Netflix, Facebook, and Instagram. As a slave, all these things were taken away from Jody. She no longer has access to any of these things."
"As a slave, she also gave up her rights to privacy, and dignity," the professor announced. "As you can see, she's naked. She's kept that way twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Her naked body is constantly on display."
"Wouldn't that take her way outside of her comfort zone," a woman in the front row asked.
"Probably," Professor Nowitzki replied. "She may not like it, but she has no say in the matter. The law states that sex slaves must always be kept naked."
I could feel thirty sets of eyes staring directly at my bald pubes. Of course, without pubic hair, my sex lips were shockingly on display. And to add to my shame, I could feel my cunt becoming visibly wet and shiny along its slit in the front.
My sexual arousal was evident to anyone who was paying attention. A woman in a stylish jacket even had the bad manners to lean forward and point out my obvious sexual arousal to Professor Nowitzki and the rest of the class.
"That's to be expected, Sharon," the teacher replied. "Slaves' orgasms are controlled and rationed, yet they must always be ready for sex. They may go five or six days without sexual release, but they're kept in a constant state of sexual readiness."
"Is that why her vulva is smooth and hairless?" another student asked. "Without pubic hair, it's easy to see if she's wet or not."
"Excellent observation," Professor Nowitzki replied. "Slaves are forbidden to have pubic hair. And that's one of the main reasons why. It's easier to gauge a slave's level of sexual arousal if their pubic lips are visible at all times."
Then a student mentioned how I was standing with my legs far apart. Professor Nowitzki replied that it was normal. Slaves are often ordered to stand, kneel or lie down with their legs far apart as it is important to keep our genitals on display at every opportunity.
Several of the students agreed that it was a good policy and that if they owned a slave, they would definitely want their slave's legs spread shamelessly wide at all times to keep their swollen pubic lips salaciously exposed.
A young lady named Pacifica opined that she wouldn't like it if she were somehow forced to become a slave, but if she owned a slave, she would want her pussy to be constantly wet and constantly on display.
The conversation turned to how a slave could be kept in a state of constant readiness, and Professor Nowitzki had some ideas on the subject.
"Some people turn to drugs to keep their slaves in a state of sexual readiness. There are potent aphrodisiacs that will do the job. However, most people prefer not to drug their slaves but instead rely on more personal methods."