Touched In That Forbidden Spot

"I like to look beyond the great feats of a historic person to the little anecdotes that reveal the true person. Caesar, for example, was once captured by pirates. He felt it was safer to wait out dictator Sulla's death in Bithynia. When Sulla died and Caesar returned by boat, he was captured by pirates," lectured the history teacher. He carefully paced along the entire length of the chalkboard. He was a tall, thin, gnarled figure with a sturdy, wiry full beard.

"This is where is character showed. Being a Roman patrician, he was so fantastically arrogant that he laughed at his captors, when he heard the random request: 20 talents. He talked them into demanding at least 50 talents, which were of course paid without question by his family."

"To add on top of that, he was completely fearless. He joked with the pirates. He played their games. He even tried out his latest poetry inventions on the pirates. If they didn't laugh, he called them uncultured bastards and swore that he'd hang them all."

"Now, we all know arrogant people. And they always fall in the end, don't they. The proverbs tell us that arrogance has short legs. However, when Caesar was freed, he recruited war ships with his money. The pirates were still in the same spot. He caught them and crucified them. And he went on to become the most powerful man in the world not only at his time, but of all times!"

"Yes, Sabine, what is it?"

Sabine that was me. The blond high school senior in the first row.

"You have some chalk on your mouth," I said. The teacher quickly touched his mouth. When he had been pacing the chalkboard, his idle hand at caressed the board and accumulated white chalk powder that he had dabbed on his body and face. "Where you trying to make your voice sound softer and sweater?"

"Sabine!" he yelled sternly with his jaw pressed tight. The torso of the thin man was shaking underneath the diamond pattern sweater that was supposed to make him look more dressed than simply in the plain baby-blue shirt. "If you keep running your mouth, you'll one day run into the wrong person."

"Boom, fell on your own sword," was my confident reply. "There you go mocking proverbs on arrogance. I'm going to be the Caesar of sass!"

"Touché, touché," mumbled the teacher

I high fived my friend Terri next to me, the red-haired, short girl with a steeled body and dream to become a heroic firefighter. The whole class hollered. A guy called, "Ooh, somebody went to school and got some good schooling."

The school bell buzzed over the door. It was cheap electrical buzzer that sounded quite annoying, despite the salivating reward of being free to stand up at the drop of a hat, shuffle 30 chairs loudly, and storm out, leaving an open mouth gaping teacher behind wishing to have made one more point or powerlessly realized that his homework instructions might as well be whispered into a 120 mph tornado.

And so, we joined the slow as molasses zombie shuffle into the hallway. Make a step left, sway left, wait for the person in front to move, step right, and sway right. There were so many kids crowded together. There were the little stumps of new kids. I and my three friends were like titans. We were seniors, only a month away from graduating. Jen was the tall blond walking next to me. She was skinny and could have been a model, if her blond hair didn't look so dirty and her face didn't look so sad.

A girl in knee high Gucci rain boots strutted in front of us. Her hair was done up high with golden clips. She carried a pink purse over her right shoulder. The purse was open. The butt of her iPhone stuck out and wiggled with each sideways sway shuffle step. Jen's quick finger pinched the rim of the phone case without touching the purse and lifted it up in one smooth motion.

"Stupid kids don't put a password on their phone," exclaimed Jen.

Her fingers started typing and swiping right away. Her dour face had flashes of joy. Nadia, the short girl with the black hair and pageboy haircut poked her nose in between Jen's face and the eye phone. Nadia squeaked a surprise giggle. Jen's face started burning only hotter with her eyes searing feverously, her hands shaking to carry out her evil plan.

Jen held me the phone with the text message, a mass text that went to half the address book: "Dear friends, my parents died yesterday in a horrible car accident. Please, don't mention anything to me, or I'll bawl uncontrollably. I'm barely holding it together. Don't remind me. Though, if you love me, give me a silent hug. I'll let you know about the service date shortly."

Two seconds after send, phones buzzed like an orchestra around us. The class had exited the classroom together. A blond guy, big for his age, turned around and hugged the hapless Gucci girl. She was so dazed that she let it happen. Her body stood stiff like a stick. The boy faced her burning to say something, yet holding his tongue, as he turned away to disappear into the throngs of the crowd.

A little, skinny girl came up to the girl that was being pushed forward by the crowed, yet would have really wanted to stay to figure out what had happened. The little girl flung herself fully bodied with a deathly emotionally hug around the Gucci girl. The little girl clung onto the black girl like tar, slowly squeezing the breath out of her, all the while pressing her face into the Gucci girl's body. The Gucci girl's face was priceless. It was puffy like puffer fish - black coal button eyes and big white cheeks.

"Step number two," said Jen deviously. She wound her skinny tall body through the crowd to catch up with the bobby haired blond guy. With every side sway of his step, Jen pinched the zipper on his backpack to let it slide open a little more. His motion obscured her tucking. The phone slipped in smoothly. Jen made sure to let a little of it stick out.

Gucci girl was surrounded by her classmates. She started fighting against the well-meaning classmates. Her hand flung the face of a sad looking guy. She was screaming at the top of her lungs. And the looks of her classmates looked only more worried. They took her fist strikes with an inner pain of how much the orphan must be struggling on the inside to go that batshit crazy. And the hugs only kept coming. Tears welled up in the eyes of the Gucci girl. With one last look over the shoulder, I felt like Gucci girl was going to meet her end, like a horde of zombies tearing her apart and eating her. It served her well for being dressed like a snob.

My band of friends turned onto the staircase, where already the upper floors pressed down. All personal space was gone. Bodies pressed against bodies. Clothes and limbs brushed. The younger students were the worst, the little snots with their playground sensibility. Everyone wanted to get out into the yard for the break. The air was stale, a hundred hungry lungs were sucking all the oxygen out. Finally the mass pressed us past the school doors. We spilled out into the yard.

Being over 18, we were allowed to step over the white line that surrounded the school. We stood in the car parking lot, where some seniors packed out cigarettes. There was Terri, Nadia, Jen, and me.

"We should go to the drive-in movie theatre tonight," proposed Nadia.

"Oh, there is a new Tom Cruise movie coming out," I added.

A guy stepped up to us from biology class. He had his shirt tugged in. His hair was long, wavy and carefully gelled back. He was holding up a single red rose with the barbs removed from the green stem. He held the flower delicately between his index finger and thumb. His dreamy blue eyes darted around, while his mouth was slowly chewing, and the tongue was licking his lip. He looked one more down to the floor to notice Nadia's black patent leather shoes.

"Hey Nadia, I got you a rose. I'm Steven, in case you don't know."

"Oh, look, he brought you a boner as well. You should have brought a twenty if you wanted a blowjob for that in the bushes," my words came out fast and vicious without me even realizing what I was saying until the end, when I broke out in uncontrollable laughter at the realization of it.

My friends looked at his groin point blank. His face dropped into a terror stricken grimace. He grabbed his groin with both hands. Not having let go of the rose, meant that he was holding the rose in front of his groin. The rose stood up.

"That's a real romantic gesture to walk up to a girl and holding a rose like a boner," I couldn't stop my words. It was like scratching an itch. Once the first scratch sends the feeling of relief to the brain, you can't help but dig in your fingernails even deeper. "Nadia, why don't you get on your knees and smell his rose?"

Nadia's face was stiff. I could tell that she actually liked the guy. There was this huge bridge that she'd have to walk over now to talk to him. She chewed on her lip, those richly dark red painted lips of her Russian heritage. Her hand waved up a little bit. Yet, her other hand grabbed it before it could raise higher than her belly. "That... that is a nice rose."

The lads back leg was searching for a better stance to avoid falling over, because he felt so nervous that he might drop. Once he found that better stance, he turned around and ran away.

A tear formed in Nadia's eye. She carefully dipped the salt water away to avoid having her Mascara run. "Why do you always have to run your mouth, Sabine," she said with pain vibrating in her voice. Then Nadia turned around and slowly walked towards the hill. Terri jogged after Nadia and put her arm around Nadia.

"Like the teacher said, one day, somebody is going to make you pay for having a big lip. One day, you are going to push someone too far," remarked Jen while shaking her head. "See I pull shit like the cellphone earlier today. However, I never do it to anybody's face."

Steven had caught up with his boys next to the Camero. One of his boys was pointing a finger at me. "Didn't they teach you not to point a naked finger at clothed people!" I hollered at him. He threw his drink to the ground and started storming over. Yet, his bodies were holding him back. They were grabbing his arms and pulling him the other way back to school.

That evening, we were in a driving movie theatre. Terri had gotten the gray family Toyota Camry. We were munching faster on the popcorn that came from the family sized bucket wedged onto the center console. The music played the string instruments tighter. Our nerves were tingling. Tom Cruise with a perfect smile and perfect rain strut through a dark alley in Beijing. The heavy rain never touched his perfect hair. He was walking ignorantly toward the ragged, toothless homeless next to the dumpster behind a noodle place. We all knew that the homeless was a sixth degree black belt master.

"Oooh, look Nadia, your boyfriend," I exclaimed and pointed at the homeless. He had cotton ball fluff for remaining hair. His face was scared and furrowed like cracked, dirt in a war torn African country. He smelled and had garbage on his body. Tom Cruise clenched his nose, when he smelled the homeless.

"Steven was cute," insisted Nadia.

"Yeah, he was trying to buy you with a rose. So, when he wants to buy a fuck from you, he'll buy you a lobster dinner. And you'll tell him how cute he is."

"That's not fair, his wavy, long hair is so dreamy!"

"Oh, oh, Nadia is in love with toupee! Please, never let her get in a time machine and travel to baroque times. She'll become a sex crazy slut!"

"You bitch," hissed Nadia. And Nadia's hands went grabbing for me. I pushed them off instinctively. Then, I felt the heat of her rage. I had pushed her button. This wave of beautiful fulfillment overcame me. I cherished it while I fended off Nadia's arms. I had made it! I had cracked that little inner egg of her emotions. And her emotions were running around like egg white and yolk. I loved my omelets slobbery.

Slowly, Nadia was dragging my upper body forward. I thought I had done a good fight fending her hands off. However, it was so hard to control my giggling. Every time, she let out a little pained yelp, when her shaky hands pulled on me, I let off an haute laugh: darkly, baritone, grumbling. Her little body was sharply breathing. The air around her had gotten hot and humid. With dazzling surprise, I felt Nadia's thigh around my body.

She had gotten me enough forward on the backseat to wrap thighs around me. My face was pushed into the ten year old fabric of the Camry upholstery. The breath echoed back onto my face from the fabric. My nose bent a little bit. Oh boy, had I pushed her far.

I kind of like that helpless hold. I felt her body around me. It made me feel comforted in a strange way. Despite her anger at me, the body contact, the strong hold was touching me. I couldn't see anything. I was inside of my own headspace. We were in a deadlocked kind of place. I could no longer struggle, because her thigh muscles are that much stronger than my arms. And she had nowhere to go. I was in her control.

I think I always lashed out on people, because I wanted to touch that thing on their inside. Like touching a bull on its hind, it was such a daring and titillating target. And in a way now that her emotion had boiled over, I had her. I had her open. I had her right next to me. People are so carefully guarded. They guard the light of their inner self. And hers was open, shining bright and warming me.

I felt a swat on my exposed butt that was sticking up in front of her. Instinctively, I wiggled my butt and let out a muffled cheer: "Two for one special, today only." I thought by taunting her, I'd make her feel even more helpless, like she couldn't get to me. And she break even more, probably crumble into a sobbing mess.

Instead, I felt her fingers under my belly. The fingers were searching. They poked into my belly. The dug deeper. My jeans button snapped. My zipper came down. I could barely hear the sound of the ratchets coming undone. Her hand pressed into the side of my hips to get the tight jeans down my butt. The jeans was down at my ankles, stuck on my shoes.

"Hey, come on, let's call it off," I reasoned with them in a friendly way.

The girls in the front had turned around by now. They were missing out on the big showdown fight on screen. I could hear the knocks of fists and boots booming from the movie sound system. Four hands were on my shoes. They were pulling the shoe laces open. I could feel it. I started kicking my feet. A pair of hands struggled to catch my foot. I pushed hard. And then they got a hold. They hold my foot steady for another pair of hands to get practical with my shoe. The socks snapped off.

"Stop! Stop, guys!" I yelled at them sternly. Yet, the upholstery muffled my voice. The movie sound drowned out my cries.

My bare feet were free again. I kicked hard. There was only empty airspace. They had left that part of the car. I felt fingers at my waistband. A terrible panic overcame me. Being pantsied was a taunt. Having my pussy shown was horrible! Adrenaline made the time slow down. I felt the waistband glide over my bottom skin. The lowest part of my panties stuck to my vagina for a bit, because it had been moist and soaking the whole day. Though, also that snapped off. I stretched my knees wide to prevent them from being able to pull the panties louder. I heard a loud fabric stretching sound. It was a crack in the panties. They would be unwearably torn now. The waistband dug into the side of my thighs. I felt Terri but her whole body around my knees. I could feel her chest pressing against the back of my knees. Her arms were strong and holding in my legs. The unstoppable path of my panties down my legs continued.

I started crying. Tears were rolling down my face and soaking into the Camry upholstery. I bawled with unintelligible words.

Nadia's thighs let go off me. I immediately searched the foot space for my panties. That's where they must have been dropped. I felt the carpet. I felt the edges of the carpet. I felt underneath the carpet. There was nothing.

The strong Terri had used the time to climb from the passenger seat to the back. Terri lifted my arms. She pulled my straight arms overhead and into some kind of wrestler lock. I couldn't move my warms. My muscles tried with all their might. Yet, somehow the body angles were at a severe disadvantage for me. Terri easily held me with one of her arms. She had always trained hard to become a firefighter one day. She had always been physical, always training.

My t-shirt came up. I don't even know which hands. Swift moving hands lifted the t-shirt over my head. Other hands snapped my bra open. I felt my boobies unleashed to gravity and fresh air. Both articles of clothing got stuck on Terri's wrestler hold. Terri shifted to wrap her legs around my belly. I was sobbing and body throbbing with emotion of humiliation and shame. My last articles of clothing were gone. I was completely naked in the middle of an ocean of people.

A car door opened. I heard one of the girls running. The trunk opened. The trunk slammed shut. The door slammed shut.

Terri let go off me. I sunk quickly down to the foot space, trying to be as low as possible and out of sight.

"Here is the thing," said Nadia with authority. "I give you two option. You can sit up right, put your hands on the side, and open your legs. Or, I'll open the car door and push you out."

"No, no, no," I blurted with saliva hanging in my lips and my eyes red from tears. I crouched lower, wrapping my arms around my naked body, bare like an animal under god's sun.

Nadia reached over me and opened the door. I felt the cool dust of air. I sobbed harder. I felt the soles of her sneakers against the bare skin on my side.

Panic stricken, I stopped sobbing, and catapulted myself onto the seat. My hands were at my side. I spread my legs as wide as I could. My lips were sobbing no words: "Bh, bh, bh, bh, bh." The ghastly white reflection of light from the movie screen played on my pale skin. The headrest in front of me was a shadow chasing across my chest as the action moved on the screen.

Nadia reached over my lap and closed the door.

"Now, Sabine, enjoy the movie. One more word from you and you'll be kicked out of the car," said Nadia sternly and fulfilled.

Everyone in the car resumed watching the movie. Tom Cruise was driving a raven black Ferrari across a large bridge with a blond in a mini-dress next to him. She was holding a gun to his head. Tom Cruise smiled. His hair was perfect. There was a silence, a peace in the car. I was naked and left to my own thoughts with my hands glued at my side.

I looked around. There was a car next to us. It was hard to see the inside because of the darkness in the audience. Every once in a while, I saw a flicker of an explosion light up the inside of the car. It was a bunch of guys. I saw their mustache. I saw their gelled hair. In those moments of fierce explosions, they would be able to see my bare boobs, if they weren't too enthralled by the action. If at any time, one of them would get bored and gaze around, I'd be caught.

There was a strange sensation of arousal spreading through me. The risk of getting caught, the humiliation, it turned me on. As much as I struggled against it and had cried against it, that feeling of being surrendered, of being taken was actually what had made my nipples tingle and stiffen. All the touches of being forced had me kind of put into a semi-aroused state. I felt like I was tied up by an invisible spell, by the threat of being kicked into the theatre naked. It made my skin tingle. Little circles of tingles caressed over my skin.

I got lost a bit in the action of the movie. Someone was planting a bomb in the cellar of a skyscraper in Beijing. I was naked. I was pussy-out naked. And I liked it. I liked it in a way of never being able to admit to it, yet only being able to enjoy it if someone forced me into it. The skin scrawlies, as I called them by now, by the time half hour of movie had given me time to think again, firmed up my breasts. The girls were totally caught up in the movie, leaving me all by myself in my naked pity and humiliation.