My Willing Disgrace

THE FEAR

I was living a double life. In one, I was your normal high schooler, going to class, staying out of trouble. In the other, I had entered into bondage to a sadistic bully and her circle of friends, willingly becoming their plaything, knowing they'd play rough. I had done it to live out my sexual fantasies. Because surrendering control, getting humiliated and used, was a powerful rush, and turned me on like nothing else.

It's easy to romanticize the past. With time, the rough edges of your lived experiences are sanded away, and you are left with only the rosiest memories. The truth is, when I was in it, a lot of those events weren't what I'd call "fun." I felt the shame and the humiliation the same as anyone else. At times, the intensity would be overwhelming. I would want to run, to scream out a safe word and make it stop. But by the time it got to that point I was usually trapped, with no way out but through. Only afterwards, with a bit of distance and time to process, would the memory turn from painful to erotic. And then, like an addict, I went back and did it again.

A part of me was loving everything that happened to me. It made me very horny, and led to the most powerful orgasms of my life. But girls can get post-nut clarity too. I lay awake at night, worrying about it. Scared that eventually, the thin wall between my two lives would collapse, and all my dirty secrets would be laid bare.

I did all I could to keep the two sides of my life separate. But that didn't stop people sensing that something was off. My friends had noticed me acting weird. Every day, I would make some excuse to separate from them, and they started wondering where I was off to. My excuses were evasive and unsatisfying. A seed of mistrust was planted, and we started to drift ever so slightly apart.

I tried to only approach Ava and the gang covertly, but high school is a public space and there's always other students around. People saw us together and started talking. The most common theory was that I was being bullied. That assumption kept people at a distance. I got a few sympathetic "You doing okay?" some compassionate smiles. But for most people, self preservation outweighs kindness. No one tried to intervene, afraid of becoming targets themselves. But that was good for me. It kept people from digging deeper.

But for some, it didn't add up. If I was the victim, why was it so often me that sought them out?

Hazel got in my face about it once, when I was waiting for the gang after school. To stop any further questions, I took a gamble on a massive lie. I told her that Ava, the gang and I had become friends.

"Bullshit." Hazel said. "They stole your clothes, and now you're suddenly BFFs? No way they'd hang out with someone like you."

"Yeah we had... disagreements. But once they got to know me, we hit it off."

"You are such a bad liar, Skinnydipper."

"You better watch yourself, Hazel. I don't think my new friends would like you talking to me like that."

She flinched. By then, the gang had pulled up in Dylan's van and were waiting for me. I hurried to them, praying they wouldn't shout out something mean to me that would have contradicted the lie. I got lucky. The look on Hazel's face when I got in the van told me she bought it. She would think twice before messing with me now.

RIDIN' DIRTY

My cockiness vanished pretty quickly once I was out of Hazel's sight. The gang had plans for me, and a change of clothes. My outfit consisted of a loose white T-shirt and a pair of daisy dukes, no underwear. After I had changed, the gang threw my old clothes out the window, leaving a trail of them behind on the highway.

They took me to a biker bar near the edge of town. Rows of motorcycles stood parked outside. The place had seen better days. It was dark, dirty and smelled of smoke. A burly man in a leather jacket came up and gave Harper a bear hug. His name was Ryker, he was Harper's brother, and apparently he owned the place. While they bullshitted, I tried to mentally prepare myself for my task.

Before arriving, Ava had given me some instructions. There was a pool table in the bar. My mission was to go up and challenge whatever hustler would take my bet to some money matches. Only, since I didn't have any money, I would offer to pay with my clothes. Of which I only had three items - shoes, top and shorts. After losing all of those - and I had never played pool before so I had no chance here - I would continue to play and do forfeits when I lost.

Being forced to play strip pool in a dirty biker bar was bad enough. Having to be the one to go up to a total stranger and suggest it is even worse. I was cringing at myself, as I presented the wager that would obviously bite me in the ass. I might as well have walked up and said "Excuse me, I am a total idiot. Would you mind taking advantage of my stupidity?"

The first game was the longest, as my opponent was feeling me out and I was still learning which end of the stick I was holding. Meanwhile I saw the gang wander around the bar to tell people to watch the game. It was gonna get interesting, they said. I eventually lost, and I took off my shoes. The floor was cold and sticky underneath my bare feet.

At this point, a lot of people in the bar were thinking I was some kind of hustler. I had lost the first game pretty handily, sure. A textbook strategy, get their opponent to lower their guard and then place a huge bet. Why else would someone come in, wearing almost nothing, and play strip games?

I disabused them of that notion pretty quickly in game two. Every ball I fumbled was met with groans and mocking laughter. Looking around the room I counted at least twenty patrons, and by this time, I was the center of attention. The last ball was sunk and the bar applauded. I grabbed the edge of my shirt, took a deep breath, and lifted it off my body. The crowd went wild, wooing and wolf-whistling. I spun around slowly, hands raised, letting the entire bar see my breasts, giving them the show we both craved.

The third game was terrible for me. I was distracted to say the least. I felt very self conscious, leaning over the pool table topless. I heard the patrons comment on both my body and my game. "You suck!" someone yelled after I missed a very easy shot. "Maybe during her forfeits." the pool player quipped, prompting more laughter from the crowd and turning my cheeks a deeper shade of red. I didn't get a single ball that game. I took off my shorts, my final garment, to deafening cheers. I was naked now, in front of my mistress, her friends, Ryker, my opponent... and about twenty other rough hewn bikers. This was my biggest exposure yet. And I was just starting.

I don't remember the next game. I was too busy thinking what the forfeit would be. The pool player joked about making me suck dick. He wouldn't make me do that, in front of all these people, would he?

My first forfeit was to go up to everyone in the bar, every last one, and let them kiss me. I moved through the bar with my hands to my sides, giving everyone a clear view of me. They were all older, smelling of beer and gasoline. They ogled me shamelessly as I walked up to them and offered them a kiss. Most of them took me up on my offer. Some showed restraint, giving me a closed mouth kiss or letting me peck their cheek. But more than a few pulled me in, shoving their tongue deep in my mouth while their hands roamed over my body. There was a female barfly who initially turned me down when I went up to her. After goading from her friends, she caved and pulled me in for a french kiss. The whole place cheered.

I was left reeling after making the rounds. By then I'd been exposed for almost half an hour, and my sex was throbbing. I got back to the pool table for one more game. Another player challenged me this time. After handily losing, I went up to him, giddy with excitement for what my forfeit would be. He told me he was gonna give me a ride. At first I thought he was gonna fuck me, and my heart nearly burst out of my chest. But no, he meant an actual ride on his bike. He took my hand and led me outside. I was initially anxious until he gave me a motorcycle helmet. It was black and covered my entire head, ensuring that my identity would be kept secret. With it strapped on I felt surprisingly safe, confident even. I started getting really excited about this.

I held on tight as we pulled away from the bar, down the road and onto the freeway. I looked at the faces of the drivers as we drove next to them, their eyes bugging out comically. Horns blared behind me, drawing even more attention. It felt so liberating.

Eventually, we got off the freeway and entered the city. We drove downtown, through a street that was really busy, lined with cafés, bars and stores. There must have been hundreds of people that saw me. I waved to them. With my helmet on, I felt invincible.

I saw some people I recognized from school. Classmates. My confidence wavered a bit.

The motorcycle stopped at a red light. I was surrounded. Cars came up behind us, and pedestrians on the street were pointing and gasping. The girls from my class were running up the street to get a closer look. I started getting paranoid. What if they recognized me? Sure, my face was covered, but they had seen me in the shower after gym. How well did they know my body? Did I have any unique identifiers? Birthmarks, moles on my back? At that moment I couldn't remember. Suddenly, I didn't feel so invincible anymore.

My classmates were close now, just a few feet away. They gawked at me in delight, and I looked back at them through my helmet - oh god, they can't see through my visor, right? - waiting for the world's slower traffic light to change.

Finally, the light changed and the motorcycle took off. I breathed a sigh of relief and the safe feeling returned. We turned back out of the city, taking a different route, staying on smaller streets. My only nagging worry was getting pulled over by the police. If that happened it was game over. Luckily, that didn't happen. The only flashing lights we saw came from some bird watchers, who had a camera with a telescopic lens. They certainly saw a rare bird that day, I thought and laughed. The rare naked jaybird.

The whole ride lasted maybe 20 minutes before we pulled back into the bar. As we parked, I noticed that the van was missing. My suspicions were confirmed as we entered the bar. The gang had left, leaving me stranded there. I asked in the bar if anyone had seen my clothes. My T-shirt had been thrown into a cleaning bucket, and was drenched in dirty water. I left it there, it smelled and would be totally transparent anyway. My daisy dukes had been thrown up into a ceiling fan and were spinning around, taunting me. I took a chair and stood on it and stretched, but even on my tippy toes I just couldn't reach them. I know I looked quite foolish because everyone was watching me do this, amused at my predicament.

After watching me struggle for a few minutes, Ryker turned off the fan and used a stepladder to take down the shorts. As I reached for them, he pulled them back, teasing me. I got that feeling of powerlessness that turns me on so much. I was naked and made a mockery of in front of a bar full of people, my dignity held captive by a man I'd just met. I assumed a submissive posture and asked him if I could please have my shorts back. He asked me what I would do for them. I told him I'd let him fuck me.

Now that might have been overkill. I think he was just teasing, and probably would have helped me out after watching me squirm for a minute. But at that point I was so goddamn horny. The extended exposure in the bar, the exhilarating motorcycle ride. The callous way I had been abandoned, and finally the undignified struggle to reach my clothes. It had all added fuel to a fire that consumed all rational thought. I needed to cum, and I wanted to do it right then and there, with everyone watching.

Ryker didn't need to be told twice. He bent me over the pool table, unzipped his pants and slipped his cock inside me. I moaned in pleasure as he fucked me, while the entire bar watched, mesmerized by the performance. Ryker was fond of dirty talk, and I responded in kind, telling him and everyone in there that I was a dirty slut, that his cock felt amazing, that I loved being watched.

Ryker turned me around and laid me down on the pool table. The other patrons moved in to get a better look. I beckoned them closer. Emboldened by my invitation they moved in, touching me, kissing me. Hands and lips covered me, so many that I lost track. I came three times before Ryker had finished.

I cleaned myself off with a bar rag and then put on my jeans. Someone found my shoes, and I thanked them with a kiss. I still had no top, but Ryker, the sweetheart, gave me his leather jacket and offered me a ride home.

I still have that jacket. I made sure to never wear it around the gang, so I wouldn't risk losing it. It's a memento of one of my favorite sexual experiences, and I treasure it dearly. Sometimes, when I'm feeling nostalgic, I strip off all my clothes, put on the jacket, and relive that magical day in the bar.

LATE NIGHT WITH MIA

Despite her at times being evil, I was getting closer to Mia. I spent more and more time with her outside of the gang. Being with her was nice because when she wasn't causing me misery, consensual or otherwise, she would actually talk to me. There wasn't really anyone else I could talk to about what I was going through. Not Ava and the gang obviously, they had made it clear where we stood. My friends didn't know and wouldn't understand, and besides, if they found out what I was doing, I'd die. So that left Mia.

I found myself opening up to her more. I told her about my dreams for the future, my family, my interests. I told her about my rivalry with Hazel, and to my satisfaction, Mia agreed with me that Hazel was a bitch. And I told her about my kinks, how I had come to know them, and the powerful mixed emotions they made me feel.

I might have overshared with her. No scratch that, I definitely overshared with her. I ignored the part of me that knew I couldn't trust her completely. That knew what I said to her in confidence was never off the record. While not a core member of Ava's gang, she was friends with them, and when it came to my debasement, they were on the same page. Any weakness I revealed about myself might be exploited. Which is what happened that night.

Mia was on the couch, fully dressed. I was naked at her feet, giving her a foot massage. I was telling her about my adventure at the biker bar, sparing no detail. I could sense her growing arousal, and I was hoping to lick her pussy once the story was over. She asked me how I had gotten home. I told her that I got a ride, and also got to borrow some clothes. And then I mentioned how I had been lucky, not having to streak through the city. I had gotten a few close calls, but something had always saved me. Mia giving me a ride after the party, Ryker giving me a ride after the bar.

And then I told her about me hiding clothes, the strategy that had saved me after my first submission at the skatepark, and a few times after that. As I talked, I knew I was making a mistake. I knew because my subconscious was screaming at me so loud that I could barely hear the words, tumbling out of my mouth like a bowling ball towards a champagne tower. The hidden clothes were my ace in the hole, my life line. It was one of the safety nets saving me from public infamy. I could sense Mia taking a mental note to put a stop to that in the future. I just made things a lot harder for me. But that wasn't the only thing she took from the story.

She stood up and told me to wait. I obeyed, and she went upstairs. I waited patiently on my knees like the good submissive I am. After a few minutes she came down, holding a big trench coat for me to wear. She went to the front door and told me we were going out. I was gonna do some flashing around the city. I put on the coat and my shoes. With nothing underneath, I was led outside into the dark night.

We left her home and went downtown, where there were lights and activity. It was pretty late but it was a weekend, and the city never sleeps. We started innocently enough with some light flashing. I would open up my coat under street lights, at crosswalks, behind people's backs. It was fun and I felt very naughty, acting so risque while just out of view. When a bus drove past, Mia made me pull down my coat and stand with my back to the road. With my back turned, they couldn't see my face or my assets, only my exposed back that left no question of undressed state.

Then we went into an alley. It was dark and private. Mia went up to me and slipped off my coat, leaving it in a pile at my feet. She embraced me and kissed me passionately. The night air was cold on my skin, but she was so warm. I gasped as I felt her fingers slip inside me, fingering me right there. I heard the sound of traffic from the street, and the occasional sound of footsteps walking past the alley. It was such a rush.

She didn't let me finish, though. Once I was worked up, she pulled out and shoved me back. She looked at me with a warm smile. Then she took my coat and walked away without a word.

I called to her in a distressed whisper, but got no response. I waited in the alley, naked and alone, for several minutes, hoping she would return. I started to suspect that she wouldn't, that I would have no other choice but to streak the city back to her place. It would be a long, harrowing ordeal, but the idea of it turned me on. I felt my hands reach down between my legs. Touching myself, I briefly stopped worrying about the reality of it, and lost myself to the fantasy.

A sudden noise broke me out of my reverie. I opened my eyes in alarm and saw Ava and the whole crew standing before me. Mia stood behind them, taking in the scene with delight. She must have called them when she went upstairs to get the coat. I knew my night had only just begun.

"Well don't stop on our account." Ava said. "Continue."

I looked at them like a deer in the headlights. My hand, still resting above my sex, started working again. The gang whispered to each other and giggled. Dylan went behind me and stood close. I felt his breath, warm on my shoulder. He put one hand on my back and the other on my butt, and pushed me firmly, away from the dark corner to the middle of the alley. I was now visible from the street. I saw the light from an all-night convenience store on the other side of the road, people milling inside. Every now and then a car drove past my line of sight. Anyone who glanced into the alley would see me, naked, jilling away. My heart beat faster and faster. Fear and arousal rose in me side by side as I started to get close.

A couple walked by the alley and Dylan suddenly shouted out to them. They turned their head at the noise and saw me. I didn't stop touching myself, I was too close to hold myself back. Intense erotic shame flooded over me. The couple reacted in shock and sped up to go past, walking out of sight just as I came to a shuddering climax. My legs started to buckle and I fell to my knees as the gang mockingly applauded.

I regained control of my legs as the haze of arousal left me. As I came, I also came to my senses, and found myself thinking with distressing clarity. My situation was really, really bad. I might have finished, but the gang was nowhere near finished with me. I had no clothes, I was in the middle of the city, and a night like this, there were endless opportunities to humiliate me.

Ava looked at my dawning realization with delight. She had been counting on this, no doubt. She wanted my mind cleared of arousal, so nothing would lessen the sting of the humiliation to come.