Set in the future, when the 70's streaking fad has made a comeback, chapter 2 picks up a few weeks after chapter 1, on October 25, 2030, at a frat house near the fictional NC Tech. Although it is part of a series, you don't need to read the first chapter to understand the story.
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Just to catch you up, I'm Marti, a junior at Cornetta College, a small college in North Carolina. A few weeks ago, while at a frat party, I let myself get talked into a streaking bet, lost, and I had to streak the NC Tech campus, completely naked, just as over 60,000 fans left a football game. I barely escaped arrest.
I'd been humiliated, thousands of people had seen me, and lots of my nudies got posted on the internet. At first, I wanted to assume an alias, dye my hair, wear dark glasses, put a paper bag over my head, start identifying as an "it," hide under my bed for a year, and move to the Moon. Yet, suddenly I was the hottest girl on campus. Wherever I went, people giggled and whispered excitedly, "That's her; that's the streaker." All the guys at Cornetta downloaded my nudies and posted printouts of my nudies on their dorm room walls. It was terribly embarrassing but, at the same time, a huge rush.
The news media called my streak the most daring streak ever, and describing me as athletic and sexy. I loved that part of it. I read and re-read all the articles and there were lots and lots of them. Even the fact that many of the articles showed some of my nudies was exhilarating.
Of course, the Saturday after my streak, I got "bimbofied." In case you forgot what that means from chapter one, as they do whenever a girl lost a streaking bet, the Beta Delta Nu Fraternity celebrated by holding a party in my honor, hung poster-sized photos of my streak on their walls, tacked up my panties as their trophy, and posted all my nudies on their website.
Now, I'm back at another party at the Beta house and, as I looked at my photos, I smiled. My streak was the most exciting thing I'd ever done. You know that feeling you get when you're naked for the first time with someone; the thrill you get when they first look at you and you see the excitement in their eyes. It's always special.
Well, imagine thousands of people seeing you nude for the first time, including lots of cute guys, hundreds and hundreds of people photographing you, and then throw in the most embarrassment you've ever had in your life multiplied times 10, along with being in a constant state of sheer panic, and you've got an unbelievable rush, like nothing you've ever done before. It's so intense you can't even think, that's streaking. And then, when the police start chasing your bare-ass, it takes the experience to an emotional intensity you didn't even believe was possible, a total mind-fuck.
Despite the danger, the humiliation, all my nude photos on the internet, and nearly getting my ass jailed, afterwards, my streak was all I thought about and I couldn't wait to do it again. You haven't really lived until you're surrounded by flashing blue lights, sirens blaring, chased by half-a-dozen cops, running like you're in a Jurassic Park movie, completely bare-ass, in front of ten thousand people, scared witless, and squealing in terror. It's such an amazing rush that, as crazy as it sounds, I've got to do it again.
Still, I hesitated. Even with all that being said, I'll admit, this streaking thing is certifiable lunacy. No sane and sober girl would do it. So, although I was already a little blitzed and in a perfect mental state to make bad life choices, I took another couple of hits of the Beta house punch, a mind-altering mixture of grain alcohol and Kool-Aide, just to seal the deal. As I felt the buzz, the last of my inhibitions slipped away and my cunny began to tingle. Things were about to get really interesting.
"Well," one of the frat boys teased, "are you ready for another bet?"
"Maybe."
In truth, there was no maybe to it. I'd been squirming in sexual tension all night waiting for the guys to challenge me to another streaking bet, fearful that they'd pick some other girl. As everyone stared at me in a wide-eyed anticipation, Grant Collins, the president of Beta Delta Nu, made his way through the crowd.
Maybe?" Grant asked. "What do you mean by
maybe
?"
"I mean you'll have to agree to all my terms and they're not negotiable."
When it came to streaking bets, I didn't need to quibble. Beta fraternity's mission in life was to separate comely coeds from their clothes. To that end, they'd take any risk if it meant that there was even a slight chance that they might get a pretty girl naked. Add to that, they really wanted me in particular. The Beta boys adored me. I'd flirted, teased, and even kissed lots of them but I'd never done it with any of them, even though all of them really wanted it. It was a major source of sexual frustration and enough to have the boys desperate to get me naked again.
Further, not only was I the most athletic girl in the room as well as one of the hottest (the hottest in my humble opinion), I was a North Carolina Tar Heel fan at a NC Tech Bobcat fraternity and I'd had the nerve to wear a UNC T-shirt to the party. Furthermore, just to tease them, I'd worn another pair of Carolina blue thong panties, just like the ones that they'd tacked up on their wall after my last streak, and I'd even lowered my jeans just a little and wiggled my ass just to show them. It had the boys in a frenzy.
"I'm listening," Grant said.
"I'll take Virginia and 7 and, if I win, three of you will have to streak and I and I alone get to pick which three people."