Zoe is a strange sort of girl. She has long since been preoccupied with how the world could be if certain norms and morals were ignored, as opposed to how the world really is. She spends most days dreaming up just the most nightmarish of things, all of which bring her endless excitement.
She had a slender frame and weighed in a little over a hundred pounds. She was short in stature with dark brown hair. Her eyes were a sparkling blue that tended to get just a bit glassy when he was deep into her daydreams. Her body was blessed with a large, soft, yet perky pair of breasts that were clearly too big for her frame. She secretly loved the attention they brought in even though they tended to get in the way and make everything that much more challenging. She tends to dress in fairly typical clothing for her age.
She has always had a very vivid imagination... and a nearly insatiable lust for humiliation in all of it's various forms. She gets just as strong a physical reaction to watching someone being fast talked or conned as she does being touched. Sometimes her fantasies are so strong and so perverse that she has been known to spontaneously orgasm in the middle of her daydreaming.
The problem is she is also a little bit on the timid side, and definitely not about to go out and find people that are going to humiliate her... she does have some pride at least. She spent most of her youth locked away, hovering over a computer screen chatting with others. She always hoped to find someone as perverse as she is, someone that knew the buttons to push to make her squirm.
There were some creepers that got close, some that were just on the cusp of fulfilling her needs. But as close as they got they never managed to satisfy her. So over the course of her years exploring and playing on the internet she began developing some imaginary friends to interact with in the real world...
She tends to refer to those friends as "They" or "Them" depending on the context. If pressed further she sometimes refers to them as her friends. They really came into being the first time she worked up the guts to stumble out into her back yard with nothing on but some skimpy panties. She walked dutifully from one end of the back yard to the other with her arms rigid at her sides as if they were being held there. When her neighbor interrupted her walking with his astonished gasp and his lewd stare she went on to explain that "they" 'her friends" dared her to do it and she proceeded to plead with him not to tell her parents. That was the first time she externalized her desires to humiliate herself. That event would set the stage for her life now in ways she may have never imagined... or dreamed up.
The more she thought about her invisible assailants the more power they seemed to have over her. "They" started "making" her do things, from taking lewd pictures of herself and "accidentally" uploading them to websites... to picking out her clothing. The fact is that she was still in control.. but by blaming "them" for it she managed to avoid most consequences of her otherwise odd behavior. It was just so easy to climb out of the public pool sans bikini and blame some creep than admit she slipped out of her own bikini for the thrill of it.
She didn't see what she was doing as a problem, there were really no negative consequences besides some whispered rumors, but otherwise it was all good fun for her. The more she indulged these urges.... these requests from "them" the stronger they got. It was all in good fun though, so it was nothing to worry about. At least to begin with.
The first sign that something was REALLY going wrong in that brilliant, imaginative mind if hers was the first time one of "them" spoke to her. Spoke might not be the right word... insult might be more correct. It happened when she was trying on some dressed in a department store. Her skinny frame and otherwise lewdly large breasts were making it hard to find something that fit without feeling like she was going to fall out of it. The voice rang out like a gunshot in the silent changing room. "Aww poor cow can't find anything to cover her fat tits can she?." The voice sounded like a combination of the bitchiest cheerleader voice you can think of along with a hint of smug condescending. Zoe jumped and frantically looked around as she held a dress over her bra clad breasts. She even let out a meek little "hello?" as those words rattled around in her head.
As those words sunk in the front of her little panties soaked through, leaving a lovely dark wet spot on them. Never before had she thought someone could be so nasty to say something like that. She started frantically looking around for where the voice came from. After peeking her head out of the booth she just shook her head and went back what she was doing. She was a little shaken and terribly turned on she she soldiered on and went back to trying dresses on. After a moment she decided that it must have just been her imagination, as there was clearly no one else around.
It was with a little pink dress half way up her legs that she heard the voice again. This time the catty bitch was more direct "Take your bra off... i want to see your tits" Zoe squeaked and let out another shocked "Who's there!?" and as she started to look around she was immediately scolded by the voice "Stop looking around and do what i told you. Stare at yourself in the mirror, that's right. Look at how pathetic the girl in the mirror is as she takes her bra of."
Zoe was still in complete control of her body, but the voice in its cruel, demanding tone seemed to have forced her into action. She did watch the mirror as her hands slid back, and she exhaled sharply as she felt her fingers deftly pop the clasp of her bra. And just as she was about to slide the bra off her shoulders she was told "Stop." She let out a sharp breath that was a combination of relief and disappointment as she froze in place. "Open the door first" the voice whispered to her, almost seductively. Zoe could watch the color fade from her skin, and the burning red of her blush wash over her face. The girl pinned her bra to her chest with one hand and slowly pulled the lock open. She ever so timidly pushed the door open, peeking out as she pushed it further and further.
Right as the door reached its most open the voice screamed at her in an intense urgent sort of way "NOW! Get it off, FASTER get the bra off! Throw it! NOW throw it down the hall!" And in a flurry of movement she did just that. She yanked her bra off of her body and tossed it down past the rest of the changing booths, she then slammed the door of her own booth closed and locked it. Standing there with her back against that door, staring at her own form in the mirror. She was panting from the exertion and the shock of what she just did. She stood there for long moments, her eye fixed on the rising and falling of her soft, beautiful, and now bared breasts. It wasn't until she started to calm down that she realized that she could feel her juices running down her legs.
In the flurry of baring her breasts and flinging her bra down the hallway... In the pathetic submission to the demanding voice... in the wake of this new humiliation Zoe creamed in her panties. The voice was gone at that point, just as quickly as it came. Zoe was quickly convinced that the voice must have been someone else... but when no one came to claim her bra, and nothing else happened she began having confused doubts about the whole situation.
The next few days were spent masturbating about the scene in that changing room, and the images of her topless body panting against the door. As those images faded she slowly grew to accept whatever it was that happened there and she moved on. The next time that voice would begin talking to her was during an extremely boring staff meeting at her job. This time it was less demanding and more teasing. The whole time it talked to her about how filthy she was for wanting the fat balding man in front of her. It was at this point about 15 minutes into their argument that Zoe fully realized that the voice was in her head.
The moment this flash of insight washed over her the voice took on a mocking tone. "I can't believe you took this long to figure this out... that's just sad. Oh look the lights are off! you should get a little comfier.. wheel closer to the table... a little closer. Good! I bet no one can see now... open your legs. Yes I know you are in a skirt. wider.. WIDER!"
The blush on Zoe's cheeks would have been terribly noticeable were it not for the dimmed lights. But for sure the moment her legs were safely tucked under the big conference table they spread wide open. Her business skirt was forced up her thighs and before she could really think about it she could look between the table and herself and see panties.
