All of my writing is fiction, and the stories and characters are products of my imagination. They were created for my fun and, hopefully, your enjoyment. Some of the events in the stories are not particularly condoned nor encouraged by the author but are there to create and enhance the story of the imaginary characters and their lives. Comments are always encouraged and carefully reviewed. All characters within the story that need to be are 18 years of age or older. I hope you enjoy! And take a second to vote and comment.
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Amber stared at the plain brown sack. It was Tuesday, and she'd taken both Tuesday and Wednesday as vacation days, not sure how much time her challenge would take. Her challenge. Each time she said those words or even thought about them, she trembled. She'd always been shy and timid, unsure of her looks and body. She'd been pudgy in elementary school, still pudgy in junior high, but had stretched out considerably in high school, but not enough to satisfy herself. She'd spent the next ten years trying to trim down fighting heredity and her DNA, basically unsuccessfully.
Sandy, Christine, and Bonnie continually told her that she was a babe, but she knew that they were just being polite. The scale and the mirror were her two impartial judges, and she relied on them to tell her the truth. Yes, she had big breasts, too big in her opinion, and wide hips, and a full butt, but she'd always longed to be tall and slender, and, at thirty-one, she knew it was not to be.
And now, she'd let herself be talked into this challenge thing, afraid to be labeled a
chicken
even though that's what she was. She'd heard herself agree to do whatever the challenge contained when what she wanted to do was scream NO, NO, NO, as loud as she could. What she'd done to compensate was to search and write out a series of tasks she was sure would cause one of the other three to cringe. She hoped that nothing like those were a part of her ten things to do.
But, it was still Tuesday morning, and she still needed to begin the challenge. She opened the sack and removed several folded squares of paper, each with a number. She tossed several back into the sack, hanging on to her first challenge. She slowly unfolded it and read.
You are too skinny-dip in Alum Creek for twenty minutes, spending the bulk of the time in knee-to-waist-deep water. You must be inside the city limits, and you're allowed to wear shoes. Otherwise, you must be totally naked. Take photos or videos for the group to view.
Amber was familiar with Alum Creek and knew that its winding path through the city was almost entirely through populated neighborhoods, so finding even a slightly deserted spot was unlikely. And photos and videos. Even if she avoided detection during her swim, the other three ladies would see her naked. She already hated whoever had made this list, although whoever had the list she had made would also be appearing naked for them.
She thought for a moment, then went to her bedroom. She stripped and put on a pair of workout shorts and a T-shirt for ease of getting naked. She'd never gone out without underwear, so it was already a minor adventure. She knew of a small park where she could easily access the creek and hoped that it might be empty on a Tuesday morning.
It took fifteen minutes to drive to the park, and she was able to get to the creek unnoticed. She set her phone on the little tripod she had brought, looked around, and pulled off her T-shirt, her boobs seeing the light of day for one of the first times ever. Her shorts followed. She tapped the record button on the phone and stepped into the water, wading out until it was nearly to her waist.
At eighteen minutes, she heard voices. They were from the far shore and not far away. She'd just moved to a spot where the water was halfway to her knees and before she could move, there was someone on the shore hailing her.
"Are you okay? I'm not sure you're supposed to be swimming there." The voice came from an older man and his wife walking along a path.
"George, don't look at her. She's naked," the wife screamed.
Of course, that made George look even harder.
"She is, at that," George said," as he aimed his phone at Amber, who threw her hands over her face, hopefully just in time.
"I'm doing a dare thing, and I'm ready to leave. Sorry to have bothered you."
"No problem," called George to the echo of his wife yelling at him to "put that phone away."
Amanda headed for the shore, grabbed her phone and her clothing, and ran to some bushes where she could hide. She quickly dressed and hurried to her car, running into no one else along the way.
Since she'd brought the paper bag with her, she opened it and searched until she found the folded paper with a 2 on the outside. She unfolded it and read.
Dressed as you are, you are to go to a public place of your choosing and masturbate. Be sure to take a video with sound so we can get the full effect. Enjoy both the excitement of doing it and the actual feel of the orgasm. Good luck.
Amber stared at the paper. Masturbate in public. She hardly ever masturbated in private, and when she did, it was just to relieve the stress of a difficult day. It wasn't a sexual thing for her. Of course, masturbating in public would create stress, which would be relieved by the masturbation. She felt like crying.
She looked around and decided that she was already in a public place. She could see a few scattered people now but no children, so maybe this would work. It was better than going to the mall, for sure. But still, this wasn't the security of her bed in her very private bedroom. She had the towel that she had just used to dry herself and decided it could cover her while she looked at her phone ... and did herself. She'd heard Bonnie talk about
doing herself
. She decided that she'd made up her mind -- she just needed to do it.
How to do it was her next consideration. It would be simple to just slide her hand under the waistband of her shorts, but awkward to withdraw if someone happened along. The legs of her shorts were loose enough that she could easily gain access that way.
,
"Amber, how the hell did you let yourself get into this," she murmured aloud. She sat sideways on the bench she'd chosen, covered herself with the towel, held the phone in her left hand, and slid her right hand under the towel and up the leg of the shorts, cautiously probing her labia. She quickly removed her hand and spit on her finger, then probed again. As her finger began to move, vaguely familiar sensations were filling her body.
As she began breathing harder, she saw a young couple at the far end of the park boldly laughing and kissing and she smiled to herself that they had no idea what was happening beneath her towel while she videoed her face. Seeing no one anywhere close, she lifted the towel and took a quick video of her hand in motion.
Maybe it was the open air, the uniqueness of the situation, or just the length of time since she'd masturbated, but she knew she was about to come, strange sounds coming from her throat and maybe deeper within her. Whatever, the spasms were causing her body to tremble and move even though she didn't want that to happen.
At last, it all ended, and her body felt like all her bones had dissolved. At home when she finished, she was already in bed and just went to sleep. Today, she still had eight parts of her challenge to complete. And a soccer ball was headed in her direction, along with what appeared to be a college-age guy. Amber quickly rearranged herself, keeping the towel across her lap for safety.
"Oh, hi. Sorry about bothering you." He put his foot on the ball, rolled it backward, lifted it with his toe, and caught it.
"No problem. I was just hanging out here for a few minutes."
"It's a good place for hanging out. I heard there was some excitement earlier."
Amber's breath caught in her throat. "Really?"
"Yeah. Someone was swimming in the creek."
For once in her life, Amber thought quickly.
"I bet it was the girl that ran past here just a few minutes ago. I noticed her because she had red hair a lot like mine."
"Probably so. My dad said he got a photo. Have a great time hanging out and for the rest of your day." He dropped the ball and dribbled it back the way he'd come from.
Amber had recovered from
doing herself
and went back to her car ... and the paper bag. Number 3 was quickly in her hands.
You are to make your nipples as stiff and long as possible, tie them off with rubber bands, string, dental floss, or anything else of your choosing, and put on the thinnest shirt you have with no bra and go to the grocery to do a little shopping.
Note: Using spring-loaded clothes pins or tweezers to hold the nipple while you tie can make the process simpler.
Simpler? Her nipples had always just been there, and she paid little attention to them, although, when they were cold, or something irritated them, they did get embarrassingly long and hard. Even in the creek this morning, she'd noticed it a little. But now she was supposed to keep them long and hard. Rubber bands, string, dental floss? She shivered at the thought.
During the drive home, two things filled her mind. When the soccer guy got home and saw the picture his dad had taken, he'd kick himself when he realized he had been talking to the naked swimmer. The second thing was the thought of tying her nipples with dental floss or rubber bands. If she pulled too hard on the floss, she might lose a nipple, and if she tried rubber bands, they'd probably work well, but how would she get them off? She'd have to try string of some kind, she guessed.
Topless, she stood in front of the mirror and began to touch her nipples. When she took hold of them and pulled, they hardened considerably, and when she did it several more times, they were longer and harder than she'd ever seen. She had one of those springy clothes pins, but when she'd tried to use it to hold her nipple, it hurt like hell, so she discarded that idea.
She had some string and decided that, as hard as they were, she could tie a slipknot and put it over the nipple and snug it up. She didn't like the idea of tying a part of her body tightly, maybe cutting off the circulation for a long period of time. She decided to cheat. She could reach under the shirt and renew the required condition periodically at the store.
She had a very light-weight shirt that she usually wore under something else, but it might serve well for today. With the nipples fully aroused, she put on the shirt, shocked at what she saw in the mirror. She'd heard talk of pencil-eraser nipples, and she could see the meaning of that in the mirror in front of her.
Not wanting to waste time, Amber jumped into the car and was at the grocery store in five minutes. Feeling like some kind of pervert, she manipulated her nipples until they were hard and erect once again, evidenced by the front of her shirt. She'd always been successful in avoiding looking like this, but now she was creating it on purpose.
She entered the store, certain that the eyes of every patron were fixed on her chest. She browsed, taking video as she did. In the deserted frozen food section, something prompted her to be daring. Recording with one hand, she used the other to hold a package of frozen spinach against her breast, gritting her teeth against the intense coldness. She moved it to the other breast so the nipples would match.
