The Unveiling Of Minh Redux

Although this is a new, and much longer, version of the story, part one and two remain substantially the same.

Chapter 1

June 2015

Minh Chen sat in the bright glare of the spotlight, her eyes focused on the chessboard that lay before her. Her mind raced, calculating moves, playing enter matches in her head, making decisions and playing them out again and again, calculating every outcome of the game. Time seemed to slow

down, every second like an hour, her focus entirely on the match she and her opponent were engaged in.

Chess tournaments never drew huge crowds. One hundred, two hundred people at most. Most were played in small theatres or hotel conference rooms. Minh's games had been attracting more attention than most. She knew this had more to do with her age and looks then her aggressive playing style and she resented it. More than three quarters of the crowd was there for her, casual fans the other masters called them. The air in the room seemed to crackle with anticipation as the final moments of the game approached. The press, an unusual amount of press, wrote their hack description, "as the audience held their breath, their eyes glued to the stage, the tension was palpable"

why is the tension always palpable, why does the audience always hold their breath? Minh

shook the press from her find. She could not stand the attention. She loved the attention. She needed the attention. Minh, with a well-practiced neutral expression, made her final move. Her opponent had anticipated this move, he knew it was coming three moves ago, but he would have needed to have seen it five moves ago to be able to change the outcome, unable to counter her meticulous attack, the game was finally over.

A polite smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she looked up, meeting the eyes of her opponent. They shared a nod of respect before Minh turned to leave the stage. But as she left the stage she was stopped in her tracks by a barrage of cameras and what seemed to her like a horde of journalists. She blinked, and blinked maybe hoping that each time she closed her eyes the horde

would vanish. Momentarily stunned by the sudden spike in anxiety, Minh closed her eyes, held them shut, and took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. When she opened them again she was once more a practiced mask of serenity.

"Minh, can you tell us about your thoughts on winning the tournament?" one journalist asked, shoving a digital recorder in her face.

Minh adopted her carefully constructed character, keeping her expression neutral. "I'm just happy that I played well today," she replied, stepping around the journalist.

She couldn't shake the feeling of being hunted... watched... prey. The journalists followed her, asking more questions about her appearance, why she always dressed so conservatively, her personal life. She politely answered some of the questions and ignored others. When one photographer asked

her if she would unbutton her shirt a bit for the camera, she let her guard down.

"Excuse me?" Minh asked, incredulous.

"Come on, Minh," another photographer chimed in. "pose a little for the camera".

Minh felt the impulse to comply; she felt her hand playing with the top button on her shirt.

Minh's friends, who had been watching from the side-lines, moved closer, forming a protective barrier around her.

"Hey, back off," her friend, Ava, said, a fierceness in her voice. "Minh just won a grand tournament, and all you care about is her body? That's messed up."

Ava, at twenty eight was five years older than Minh. Although shorter at five foot five inches, she had a hundred times the presence. She was born and raised in the north of Brazil and she had fought against poverty and repression and expectations to get out. She had broken away from her country and her religion and her family and moulded herself out of her own clay. She was fierce and

intelligent and beautiful and yet the journalists stared right through her.

The photographers seemed unfazed by Ava's words, continuing to press Minh for skin. Minh felt her hands trembling, her heart pounding in her chest as the pressure mounted. She felt a weight in her stomach and uncontrollable warmth spreading between her thighs. The button popped open in her fingers, her hand still holding her collar shut. But Ava was not going to stand for it. "Leave her alone," She commanded.

Beside Ava was Lan, Minh's oldest friend. Lan was short at five foot nothing, her petite frame and slight figure burning with rage. Lan was Vietnamese/Chinese she had almost been raised to be seen not heard but as the third daughter of six she had often been neither seen nor heard. Her greatest rebellion had been to dye her naturally black hair blond. Every fibre of her being pulled against her drawing attention to herself or causing trouble, yet she was ready to fight for her friend.

"Fuck off scumbag," Ava continued, moving towards the journalists. "You're treating her like a object. She deserves respect!"

The journalists seemed to shrink back, sensing the change in atmosphere. Minh felt a wave of relief wash over her as the focus shifted from her and to Ava and Lan.

"Minh, you don't have to answer their questions," Ava said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You're a chess prodigy, not a pin up model."

Minh took a deep breath, feeling her heart rate gradually return to normal. She did up her top button still fidgeting with it with her slender fingers. She was grateful for Ava and Lan's intervention, but she knew this was not the last time she would find herself at the mercy of the media. She knew they would keep on at her until they got what they wanted. In the last six months Minh had been approached by a half dozen agents and publicists all looking to exploit her fame and looks and they had all said the same thing, 'play the game.' The thought of how angry her parents would be had stopped her.

Her father would disown her and her mother would rain guilt on her in a never ending torrent. They never showed her affection but they were not shy of showing her their disappointment.

"Minh, you did great," Ava continued. "You should be proud of yourself." Minh nodded, a small smile at the corners of her lips.

"Thanks, Ava. I really appreciate your support," she replied. I still can't shake this feeling of being treated like an object. Pushed from post to post." Minh's voice was shaking with anger and embarrassment.

"I can't believe they would treat me like that, ask me to show skin for the camera. It's disgusting." Minh's outrage sounded like it was expected to sound, she said the words, she believed the words, but part of her wanted to be objectified. Her friends looked at her with concern, sensing her

distress.

"It's okay," Ava said, pulling her into a tight hug. "We're here for you."

Minh let out a deep sigh, sinking into the embrace.

Chapter 2

That evening's press conference took place in Minh's hotel room. Around 30 journalists and photographers crammed into the large suit, sitting on folding chairs. Minh sat facing them, her chare was plush and upholstered and one of the four that normally sat in the room. Minh's Friends sat with her in support. The rooms' large floor to ceiling windows looked out over the city, offing an impressive view in the golden evening light. The sun was already starting to dip below the highest of the surrounding skyscrapers. The reporters gathered around her, their eager eyes and

recording devices poised, ready to capture every word she uttered.

Minh's youth and looks had brought her to the attention of a wider audience and many of the press there had no interest in chess, for them she was the story. They asked her about the game, inquiring

about her strategies, her thoughts, and her feelings as she faced her opponent. They wanted to know about her plans for the future, her aspirations, and her goals. They asked her if any sponsorship deals were on the horizon, if there were any potential partnerships that she was considering. They were intrigued by her popularity and wanted to know more about her journey, her hard work, and her dedication. But there it was again, the questions about her looks. They asked her how she managed to maintain her youthful appearance, if she had a strict skincare routine, or if she had any beauty secrets to share. They asked her if she thought that her looks played a role in her success, if she believed that her physical appearance was a factor in her fame. They seemed to be fascinated by her beauty, as if it were the most intriguing aspect of her life.

The photographers, a mix of men and women of different ages, stood around Minh, each one vying for her attention, eager to capture the perfect shot. They were a diverse bunch, some with a keen sense of manipulation, some were direct and pushy others were more subtle. They all shared a common goal - to elicit the perfect shot from Minh. They asked her to smile, they asked her to let down her hair, to show some leg, to show some shoulder, to show some cleavage. Each request was met with a hesitant nod from Minh, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink with every word. Minh was wearing a calf-length red dress, the fabric adorned with intricate patterns that danced and swirled like a kaleidoscope. The dress had a high collar that framed her delicate neck, and half-length sleeves that ended just above her elbows. It buttoned up at the front and the waist was pinched in with a belt. The hem of the dress fell just below her knees, and she paired it with a pair of flat emerald green pumps that added a touch of elegance to her outfit. Her long, black hair was tied up in a high ponytail, the sleek strands cascading down her back like a waterfall.

Minh felt enormously self-conscious as the photographers continued to bombard her with requests. She could feel their eyes on her, scrutinizing every inch of her body, and it made her feel vulnerable. But at the same time, she couldn't control the way her body was reacting to their attention.

Minh looked at the journalists, their eyes hungry for more. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. Being an intensely reserved person, she had never exposed herself in such a way before. But something stirred inside of her, something she had never felt before. She stood up slowly, her heart pounding in her chest, and took a deep breath. She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and placed her hands on the cold glass, feeling it against her palms. She looked out into the evening, at the twinkling lights of the city below started to light up. She felt a sense of liberation wash over

her, a feeling she had never experienced before.

The photographers' cameras click slowed down into a staccato rhythm as they photographed Minh's perfect shape silhouetted against the city outside. A few of the older photographers pinned for the golden era of celebrity up-skirts. Their hands twitching with their greasy desire to slide their camera along the ground and try and get a good gusset shot. Minh closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the smooth glass against her hands and the dampness slowly spreading between her

thighs.

She felt empowered, desired, objectified. She wanted to show them that she was more than just a pretty face or a talented chess player. She wanted to show them everything they wanted to see. Minh felt an enormous pressure to follow every command, she wanted to be told what to do and she wanted to submit completely. She had always supressed her feelings and her desires; she had fought her whole life against other people's lust for her. It was avoiding their objectifying gaze that had led her to chess and ultimately more attention than she could ever have imagined.

"Minh, are you OK?" Ava asked

With a long, intense glance over her shoulder, Minh, turned and walked towards the gathering of journalists. She could hear them murmuring amongst themselves, their voices filled with anticipation. They could tell that something was going to happen, they could see something in Minh had snapped. They didn't know what but they could sense a there was a story in it. They could sense that there was going to be an explosion.

Minh felt a surge of power and liberation flow through her as she closed the distance between herself and the eager, lecherous, men and women. She held their gaze, daring them to look away, daring them to back down. But the journalists were already captivated, their eyes glued to her as she slowly, deliberately began to undo the buttons on her dress.

Minh's hands trembled slightly as she undid the top button, exposing a small strip of her smooth, pale skin. She moved down to the next button, and the next, each one revealing more and more of her bare flesh. The room felt electric, the energy crackling in the air as she finally undid the

last button above her belt and let the dress fall open. The entire top half fell to her waist.

"Is this what you want", she said with a blazing fire that could suddenly burst into tears in her eyes.

She stood before them, her tall slender frame clad in a practical but feminine black bra that barely contained her firm, perky breasts. Minh's friends gasped in shock but none of them moved, there

were all frozen in place unsure how to react. Minh could see the desire in the crowds' eyes, the hunger that twisted their features into something primal and raw. She could feel her own arousal building, the pulsing ache that throbbed between her legs.

She reached behind her back and unsnapped the bra, letting it fall to the floor. She stood before them, finally baring herself completely, vulnerability a wave of embarrassment and shame crashed over her, she turned red and almost raised her hands to cover her nipples. But she didn't she stood

there exposed.

The way the light danced across Minh's exposed skin was nothing short of mesmerising.

There was a brief silence, the journalist and photographers looked at each other wondering if this was real, wondering if they should push things further or call for psychiatric help. Their morals failed them and suddenly the cameras burst into frantic action capturing every detail of Minh's exposed body. The photographers clamoured, pressing forward, eager to get closer to the sight of her nakedness.

"Fuck, she's even more beautiful than I imagined," one of them whispered, his voice shaking with desire. "The things I would do to that body..."

Minh heard the words, and they sent a rush of adrenaline through her veins. She felt exposed, she felt ashamed, but she did not feel powerless. Instead, she felt the fire of her own lust, blazing brightly inside of her. In that moment, she knew what she wanted.

"You don't have to do this, Minh," Ava murmured her voice soft and concerned. "I'll stand by you no matter what."

But Minh shook off Ava's hand and stepped into the middle of the room. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest, adrenaline and excitement coursing through her veins like lava.

"Take off the rest of your clothes," A journalist commanded, foreplay was over.

"Let me see all of you."

The journalist's eyes widened, he was a young and hansom man, Minh was surprised by how handsome. Most of the journalists were middle aged, about a half were women. His tone was softer, less aggressive than the others. In honesty his tone and looks made no real difference, she was ready to do whatever she was told to, but for some reason it made it easier.

Ava's eyes were wide with uncertainty, and her voice trembled as she spoke. "Minh, are you absolutely certain that this is what you want?" she asked.

The words hung in the air between them. "Once you do this, there's no going back. These images will be out there, forever, for all to see."

Minh eyes wandered around the room scanning the faces of the journalist. They had become a mob, they had lost all sense of consequence and responsibility. She could feel the heat of their gaze, like a physical touch on her skin. She could feel the expectation as she made up her mind and decided to strip out of the rest of her cloths.

"Yes," she whispered, her own voice trembling with desire. "This is what they want." Minh's voice, though low, was steady and filled with a quiet confidence. Her gaze, unwavering, was fixed upon the throng of journalists and photographers that stood before her, their cameras and phones and digital recorders at the ready. She could feel her heart racing in her chest, a palpable, steady drumbeat that echoed in her ears. She knew she was about to expose herself to the journalists and they would expose her to the world.

Minh reached down at started to untie the waist of her dress, slowly pulling the strings at her sides until the bows untied. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she let the material fall over her hips, letting the fabric pool at her feet. Minh was now standing before them in just her panties and green pumps. Her smooth skin glowed, every curve and line perfectly accentuated. The dim light of the room seemed to dance around her, illuminating her in a way that made her appear almost ethereal. The fabric of her underwear clung to her body, accentuating every curve every line.

"You're beautiful, Minh," the young journalist murmured, his eyes filled with raw desire.

Minh smiled, feeling a surge of power and confidence rush through her veins. Her fingers traced her hips, up to her waist, then down under the fabric of her panties and slowly she started to lower them. Her shaved pussy and the gap between her legs were revealed by inches. Minh's friends, Ava in particular could not look away. A small sticky drop of her juice traced from her delicate pussy down to her damp panties. She felt the warmth of the air on her bare skin, a thrill of pleasure rushing through her as she stepped out of the damp fabric.

The journalists were frozen, their mouths agape, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Minh's heart raced, her pulse quickening as she felt the adrenaline surge through her. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with embarrassment and desire.

Ava stood there, her eyes fixed on her friend's unclothed form. She had seen countless nude bodies in magazines, on screens, and in the world of art. She had witnessed actresses, athletes, and models, all baring themselves for the world to see. Yet, as she stood there, she couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. This was a sight she had never expected to witness, and it left her feeling both mesmerised and slightly uncomfortable. She found herself reflecting on the choices these women had made, the thought processes that had led them to pose naked. She wondered about the reasons behind their choices, the motivations that drove them to be so comfortable and vulnerable. Was it for the pursuit of fame or money or was it the desire to be seen, was it the desire to share themselves and inspirer others? Was it a way of accepting themselves and helping others to accept themselves? This wasn't so bad she thought, surely this is as far as she will go.

The room descended into a clamour of requests and demands as the journalist realised they had convinced Minh to strip completely naked in front of them. The excitement was palpable, and they were eager to see what Minh would do next.

Minh didn't disappoint as she slowly turned around to face the large window of the hotel room, revealing her bare backside to the roomful of journalists. Her heart raced in her chest as she pressed her hands against the glass, the chill of it spreading across her skin, causing her to shiver. The massive window out onto the city was like a picture frame that could be seen by thousands of eyes. It was the absence of privacy in an architectural form. Minh touched her nipples against the glass causing goose bumps to spread across her breasts.