Endless Nudity Ch 04

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."

By personal methods, she meant physically stimulating the slaves, every day, multiple times a day, without allowing them sexual release. I felt shamed just hearing her talk about it, but then she insisted on providing a visual demonstration.

The tall, lithe woman ambled towards me and placed her hands on my naked body. She placed her hands on my naked sex and breasts.

"There are sensitive nerve endings in a woman's nipples, public lips, and her G-spot. These can all be rubbed, stroked and petted several times a day. Observe this slave's reactions as I play with her body."

"Slaves should never have dignity or cool disdain where sex is concerned. They should be shameless about it. They should be craving it with a ravenous hunger. They should be eager for the touch of anyone that comes near."

As she said this, Professor Nowitzki played with my nipples and fingered my pussy. I was teased and brought to the edge of orgasm. My pussy throbbed and my breathing became labored as one agonizing wave of desire after another passed through me. Then, she turned to her students and asked for volunteers.

I gave a plaintive look to the class. I was already suffering with need. I didn't need for my libido to be raging any more than it already was. I was hoping they would have mercy on me, but instead of mercy, I ended up with seven volunteers, eager to play with my nipples and my pink slit and turn me into a whimpering pile of sexual need.

One of the volunteers was a redhead with a boyish haircut, a girlish figure and an enthusiastic smile. I stood there trembling as she approached and placed her hands on my naked body. She stroked her fingertips across my swollen pubic lips, making me moan. When I felt feverish with desire, she thrust two fingers into my vagina and explored the interior of my sex until she found my G-spot.

The expression on her face looked so innocent, but she made me suffer endless desire. She played with my pussy until my hips were squirming uncontrollably and my clit was so swollen that it ached. I could feel a powerful orgasm building up inside of me. I writhed shamelessly, thrusting my pelvis in an obscene manner and just when it seemed there was no means of stopping my screaming orgasm from erupting, she removed her fingers from my wet, throbbing sex and turned to the girl behind her.

"She's all yours, Ella. Have fun."

I was delirious at that point as the next woman stepped up. She had dark eyes and dark wavy hair. She told me that I was adorable and kissed me on the mouth before she began to touch me all over.

I twisted, writhed, and squirmed as I was sexually tormented. One woman after another rolled my nipples, kneaded my breasts, fingered my pussy, and rubbed my clit. Before it was over there was a fine sheen of sweat on my naked body, and my pussy was dripping wet.

Professor Nowitzki explained that it was important for a slave to lose her dignity, her modesty and become a humbled, libidinous creature who hungered for physical contact so desperately that she would eagerly accept the touch of anyone, man, woman, friend, stranger, wealthy debutante or common laborer.

By the time Melissa and I returned to our hotel, I was a feverish, quivering mess. My heart was thundering in my chest and my pussy was throbbing. It was like I was a real sex slave instead of a rich girl playing a role.

In the beginning I was just doing cosplay. I went out naked in public with a metal slave collar locked around my neck. It was exciting and a huge sexual thrill, but I was feeling increasingly like a real slave after being abused by that university teacher and her students.

Of course, everyone in the hotel lobby stared when I arrived. I had a great body, and I was stark naked. And it was considered socially acceptable for free men and women to stare at the bodies of naked slaves to their heart's content.

All the hotel employees and guests looked up from what they were doing and focused their attention on my tits, long legs, bald pubes and my perfectly shaped buttocks.

When Melissa and I stepped into the elevator, we ended up encountering the blonde, married woman that we'd met previously. We'd never been formally introduced, so Melissa introduced us as Melissa and Jody. The young, blonde woman introduced herself as Emma.

"You're looking as beautiful as ever," Emma said as she favored me with a big smile and reached out for my slave collar. Then she asked if I could turn around so she could get another look at my bottom.

I could feel my face heat up with embarrassment, but Melissa told me to turn around and show my ass to Emma since she asked so nicely.

Following Melissa's instructions, I placed both hands on the elevator wall and bent slightly at the waist, sticking my butt out.

"Good God," Emma exclaimed. "Her ass looks even more bewitching than I remembered."

Melissa ordered me to spread my legs while Emma admired my naked ass. Bent over with my legs spread, I felt shamefully exposed. My anus and pubic lips were very much on display, a fact that Melissa pointed out to Emma.

"See her plump, glistening pubic lips?" my friend said.

"I just adore this view," Emma replied. "I almost wish we could keep her bent over like this all day."

I whimpered as Melissa and her new friend made comments about my naked body. They gushed about the beauty of my bald pubes and my buttocks, and I felt a soft wet pulse in my sex as they objectified me. I could feel moisture leaking from my pussy and I squirmed in humiliation, but I wallowed in my feelings of helplessness and degradation and felt myself becoming more aroused by the second.

Then Emma grabbed my butt with one hand and squeezed. She complimented me on the firmness of my glutes, then added, "Not much color though. Has no one spanked you today?"

"Not yet," Melissa said. "We should probably rectify that. If a slave goes too long without any corporal punishment, she can forget that she's a slave."

I groaned at that announcement. Melissa and Emma chatted congenially about the importance of me being spanked often. They discussed the importance of abusing, objectifying, and punishing me as if I wasn't even there. And then somehow, they came to an agreement that Emma should come back to my hotel room and spank me.

"You'll be doing her a favor," Melissa said. "It'll help to keep her in the proper slave mindset."

I frowned as I was herded from the elevator to my hotel room.

Within seconds of entering the room, Emma was sitting down and Melissa ordered me to go over her lap. I gave Melissa an unhappy look, but I did as she said. I went over Emma's lap for a bare-bottom spanking and Melissa watched imperiously as I was punished.

Emma's hand stung badly, worse than when Janice had spanked me. Melissa complimented the married woman on how vigorously she punished my poor, innocent hindquarters and made me bounce and squirm across her lap.

Then, to add to my humiliation, Emma worked one hand between my legs. She grabbed my exposed pubic lips and found the entrance to my vagina. I squirmed and moaned as she pushed her fingers inside me and probed my moist interior. Being fingered while bent over her lap with my friend watching made me feel even more helpless, humiliated, and submissive than before.

I whimpered and moved my hips and pelvis in a lewd shameless manner as Emma speared my pussy. I felt utterly helpless and submissive to her.

"Ohhhhhh!"

I cried out in pain and mortification. Emma drove me to the very edge of climax, left me panting, feeling humiliation and red-faced while simultaneously inflicting stinging pain on my innocent backside.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

The woman was merciless. Bringing down one stinging swat and another and another, until my bottom felt as cooked. I writhed and squirmed shamelessly as the pain grew more intense and I lost all sense of dignity and self-respect. And all the while Emma pumped her fingers inside my moist interior and fingered me to climax while she was spanking me.

"Ohhhhhh! Aaaaahhhhh! Aaaaaahhhhhh!"

I quivered and squirmed my hips in a shameless manner and moaned and gasped and panted and saw the wicked smile on Melissa's face as she watched me cum loudly, endlessly, and with a great deal of shameless, libidinous writhing.

The orgasm was wild and passionate and mixed with the stinging pain of the cruel spanking. And then while I was in the throes of post-orgasmic bliss and my eyes were welled up with tears and I was still sobbing in pain, I was ordered to go over to the full-length mirror in our room and see how red my ass had become after being spanked by Melissa's newfound friend.

I stared at my reflection. My face was moist and streaked with my hot, wet tears. And my firm, shapely ass was blushing a painful shade of red. I flexed my glutes and swayed my hips as I admired the color.

Something about the redness made me proud. I would have had great difficulty putting it into words, but I think it had something to do with it making my roleplay as a slave more authentic. The slave collar and the constant nudity helped, but taking such a painful punishment and bearing the red handprints as evidence of my punishment really sealed the deal.