[Author's note: This is the continuation of a very popular series of stories posted on a stripping forum about Wendy Wilson, a young college co-ed who is blackmailed into participating in nude public exhibitionism. The original series was started by an author named Falcon but after he abandoned the story he gave me permission to continue it. I can't post Falcon's original series here but I think this chapter stands on its own enough for it to be enjoyable to readers unfamiliar with Falcon's story even though there are references to previous events in it.]
Hello again. I don't know if some of you will remember me or not but my name is Wendy Wilson and I've written in the past here in great detail about my time under the control of one Nancy Johnson, Assistant to the Dean at my college. I know it's been awhile since you've heard from me but I guess it's been more difficult than I thought putting all of these experiences down in writing. It's been cathartic in a way but it's also forced me to relive memories and emotions from those adventures that have been largely buried up until now.
"Adventures" was Nancy's word for my nude outings, certainly not mine, but sometimes I find myself unconsciously thinking in her terms even now. I guess that's what happens when you spend so long under another person's complete control...you inevitably start seeing the world from their perspective. I know that Nancy desperately wanted to see the world from my point of view. That was the whole point of the self-prescribed "therapy" that she invented to help herself deal with her obsession with public exhibitionism: to live vicariously through me as I experienced what she so badly wanted to experience herself, but couldn't. It didn't matter at all to her that I wanted no part in her therapy and had to be blackmailed into doing it; that only heightened the experience for her.
I still remember vividly sitting in my car that Saturday afternoon about a block from Nancy's house where I'd pulled to the curb to help calm my nerves and think things over. It was just fifteen minutes until I was supposed to meet Nancy for the first of my assigned "summer jobs" and I didn't know if I could actually go through with it. As much as I tried to convince myself that my previous experiences would help get me through it my stomach still felt like the Cirque du Soleil had moved in for a matinee performance and my heart was racing at a hundred miles an hour. Would this ever get any easier? I didn't know.
I do know that a lot of my anxiety that day had to do with the fact that any hopes I had that this would never really go as far as Nancy had always promised had completely evaporated the previous weekend. That's when I'd actually walked completely naked through two crowded stores at Nancy's command. And that was supposed to be just the beginning of a new phase of my training!
I guess what was also getting to me that day was that it was the first time since being trapped in Nancy's little game that I knew beforehand I'd actually be exposing my nude body to an audience. In all of my previous experiences there'd always been the hope that no one would see me that day. Through all of the naked car rides and t-shirt training sessions no one other than Nancy had actually seen me totally nude. Even during my first true public exposure at Sinful Delights in the mall I hadn't known beforehand that it was going to happen. And even as late as the previous week I'd convinced myself that I was through playing Nancy's game, but as I sat there in my car I knew there were no longer any illusions about what was going to happen that day. Lots of people were going to see me very naked in a very public place.
It's difficult for me to describe to you what my state of mind had been that week after my nude strolls through the supermarket and home improvement store. I guess shock is the best word to describe it - I just couldn't believe what I'd done! Even worse, Nancy had laid out her plans for my summer and they included much more of the same. Not only had she enrolled me in summer classes at the college without my knowledge but she'd set me up on a "summer jobs" program where every Saturday afternoon I'd be expected to complete an assignment that I would pick out of a jar at random. None of them would involve wearing any clothes, of course.
I'd been in a daze for the first few days after that. Summer classes wouldn't start for another two weeks and all of my friends had left town for the summer break so there was nothing to distract me from my own thoughts and fears about the future. After the initial shock had begun to wear off I started thinking things through for about the thousandth time. There just had to be some alternative other than becoming Nancy's nude little show girl for the rest of my college years! I knew, of course, that there were ways out of it - lots of them, in fact. But the problem with all of them was that there was one inescapable fact that I just couldn't avoid: I had cheated on my term paper. I didn't know at the time that Nancy had entrapped me into doing it, but it wouldn't have mattered if I had known. I'd taken the bait so I was guilty, guilty, guilty, and any plan that involved exposing Nancy's perverted blackmail scheme would also expose my plagiarism and lead to my expulsion from college. Sure I could probably get Nancy fired in the process but that still wouldn't have spared me from the consequences of my own actions and the shame I'd feel in admitting to my family that I was a cheat and a failure.
As angry, bitter, and mortified as I was by Nancy's blackmail scheme I had to reluctantly admit to myself that I'd been offered a choice that any other student caught cheating wouldn't have gotten. Anyone else would have simply been kicked out of school months ago. I know I have my faults but one of them isn't blaming others for my own mistakes. Ultimately it had been my decision to pull that term paper off of the internet and turn it in as my own work, just as it had been my decision to submit to Nancy's demands to avoid expulsion. Whenever I'd taken off my clothes at her command it had always been my choice. I knew it always would be.
As each minute brought me closer to my one o'clock appointment with Nancy, I knew my window of opportunity for escaping from her was closing. When Nancy had first revealed her plans for me all she'd held over my head at the time was a plagiarized term paper. Of course that had been bad enough, but the price for refusing her demands had already risen dramatically. She now had nude photos of me on her computer that were just one click away from being e-mailed to my friends and family and, on top of that, my potential problems with my college had also increased. I knew that Nancy had falsified my grades in order to increase my incentive to continue on with college (and her own plans for me) and my school's strict honor code required me to report this to the administration. I couldn't do it, of course, without the plagiarized term paper coming to light, but that didn't really matter. I was still violating the school's honor code by not turning Nancy in. Like it or not, she was drawing me even deeper into academic fraud.
I'd thought that I'd made the final decision the previous Saturday to give in to Nancy but the naked store walks and the revelation of her plans for my summer had come as a jolt. It was far beyond what I'd expected given my previous level of "training" and her promise to ease me into my new role gradually. It had forced me to rethink my decision. I knew that if I was ever going to escape from Nancy's grip I had to do it very soon. The consequences would only become greater with each passing week, month, and year, and as those consequences grew so would Nancy's demands.
It was nearly one o'clock by then and I had two choices before me: continue on as Nancy's naked little puppet or drive right on past her house and regain control of my life, no matter what the cost. Unfortunately, I couldn't imagine bearing the cost of either decision.
I started up my car engine that day still not sure which path I was going to take in the next couple of minutes.