This story takes place on a parallel world where registered nudity and indentured slavery are legal under a government known as "The State". A young woman is blackmailed and slowly coerced into a life she never expected.
This story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
Themes include cmnf, cfnf, enf, humiliation, non-consent, reluctance, blackmail, public nudity and public sex.
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Casey Reine had lived her whole life in Port Wiluma. It wasn't a bad place to live as far as towns go. With a population of around 150,000, it had all the perks of city living, such as home-delivered pizza, shopping malls and movie theatres, while lacking most of the hustle and bustle of big city life. While it was a coastal town, it failed to draw surfers due to an offshore reef which sheltered the mainland from the larger waves. An esplanade ran parallel to the beach along its length. Well, calling it a beach was stretching things somewhat. Further north and south it was crowded with mangroves and smelly mud, while the beach part alongside the esplanade was mostly a cleared patch of a metre or so of white sand in between lapping waves and grassy parks with picnic tables where you could sit and watch pelicans and seagulls while eating fish and chips. Assuming you were happy to share your meal with the local birdlife of course.
Behind the esplanade, a downtown area with shopping malls, offices and other businesses stretched to the suburbs in the hills beyond. Most people here lived and worked in town, but a significant portion commuted to the nearby capital of Stocksgate, some sixty minutes or so inland on the state highway. Many others were employed at the military base just outside town. Jeeps and personnel carriers were not an uncommon sight on the roads.
The day began as most days did for Casey. She felt tired but good after her usual hour on the track before her first class began. She was in the final year of her two-year post-high school technical diploma, and graduation was now just months away. She'd chosen a career in Graphic Design, as had her best friend, Amelia. Casey's grades were certainly up there for a Uni degree, but finance had been the deciding factor to settle on a technical diploma instead. Her sister, Jolene, four years her senior and equally academically gifted, had gone on to Uni to study for a business degree, and that had stretched the family's budget already. Their parents, Michael and Sue, were working class so their incomes were only going to go so far for two daughters. Technical diplomas weren't paid for by the taxpayer like the first twelve years of education had been, but it was still a damn sight cheaper than Uni, so Casey had gone for that. She had no hard feelings about it, though, other than it essentially meant two more years of high school and its draconian rules. At 18 and 19, these older Grade 13 & 14 "Tech" students like her were legal adults and segregated from the rest of the high school with their own buildings and cafeteria, yet they were still subjected to the same pathetic authoritarian high school rules. That factor was compounded by the formidable and staunchly conservative Dean, Eunice Bernstein, who ruled the campus with an iron fist.
The water in the shower was refreshing and she was alone in the locker room. She loved these early mornings. It felt like she had the whole place to herself and being alone was just awesome. It wasn't that she didn't like people. She did, and she was well-liked herself. She just didn't get them. Ok, so she couldn't read people well. She had topped her classes in maths and the sciences in high school, and she hardly even had to study to do it. So what if non-verbal cues went straight over her head? What did it matter if she had to analyse every conversation afterwards to figure out if people were taking her seriously or if they were making fun of her? That only meant she became an expert in faking those cues herself, so no one ever suspected she was any different to them.
Before Christmas the year before, an anonymous "Secret Santa" had left a cheap T-Shirt wrapped in Christmas paper on her locker with the words "I used to be indecisive but now I'm not so sure" printed on it. It was just a gag gift, perhaps meant as a friendly jibe from a friend, or maybe it was an attempt to bully her from someone not so friendly. Either way it had hurt. A lot. Decisions weren't easy if you didn't have all the facts. How could anyone not understand that? A good decision required all the facts, and nothing less than complete pragmatism. Emotion should never factor into a good decision. "Going with your gut" sounded so stupid. It could only be choice A or B, or no choice at all and let fate decide when it was good and ready, or when more data became available.
As she towelled off, she looked in the mirror and was pleased to see a hint of her abs coming out at last. She had worked so hard, and it was finally paying off. She took in the rest of her body and liked what she saw for a change. She was tall and slender with long and well-defined legs, and a petite but still athletic frame. Her breasts were small and perky. More jiggle than bounce, but that was ok. "Who needs big tits anyway?" she often wondered. They seemed more of a burden than anything else, particularly for a runner. Although, she had worried that her recent endeavours into fat-loss might leave her completely flat-chested, but so far thankfully it hadn't taken any real toll on them at all. If anything, they were even perkier and seemed to be sitting even higher on her chest.
While slim, her hips had an undeniably feminine curve to them, and she sported a firm but shapely bottom. Her pubic hair was quite dark and contrasted sharply with her pale skin. She trimmed the excess hair sometimes in summer but only just enough to stop it poking out the sides of her swimsuit. She couldn't understand the trend of shaving it all off like some of the other girls did. To her, pubic hair was a badge of womanhood and shaving it all off was unthinkable. Gross, so slutty. Only a girl with no self-respect and aspirations of becoming some man's fuck-toy would willingly do that. Plus, the hair helped hide her extremely prominent and protruding labia minora, which she thought was abnormal and ugly. So far, no boy had seen it and she intended to keep it that way for now, but if she did fall in love and decide to have sex with someone someday, knowing it was well disguised amongst the thick hair might allow her to feel a little less self-conscious about him seeing or touching her. Ok, so with her 19th birthday approaching, maybe she was getting to be a bit of an old maid by today's standards, but that was no reason to rush out and throw herself at just any boy just yet. When it happened, it had to be someone special who would love her for who she was, not for whatever she looked like naked.
She gave her shoulder length mousy-brown hair a quick brush and then just a little lip gloss. Perfect. Modest and clean without being skanky.
"Hi, Casey!"
Casey turned to see Amelia walk in and put her sports gear in her locker. It felt like she had known Amelia forever, and she regarded her as her best friend. Sure, she was pleasant to everyone, but Amelia was special. As close as they were though, she still felt self-conscious to be standing around in her underwear in front of her. She quickly turned her back to button up her blouse and put on the wrap-around knee-length skirt she had been forced to wear that day. It was an awful design, attaching only by Velcro. Casey loathed it and seldom wore it but had been putting off doing her laundry so all of the dresses she preferred to wear were dirty.
"How was your run today?"
"Not bad," Casey replied. "I feel like I'm getting quicker at last. I even finished with a sprint!"
"That's great!" replied Amelia. "I wish I had half your willpower. I might have a bit less of this fat ass."
Amelia was maybe a size larger than Casey. Perhaps a little curvier but certainly not fat.
"Oh, you're not fat by any stretch of the imagination, but you're welcome to join me anytime," Casey responded, secretly hoping Amelia wouldn't take her up on the offer. She so loved the solitude of her morning runs.
"As if," Amelia replied. "Whoever put the words 'fun' and 'run' together in the one sentence had a screw loose as far as I'm concerned."
The girls giggled and continued getting ready for their first class, which they shared today.
"Wassup, bitches?"
The girls both groaned and rolled their eyes at each other. It was Cassandra Bloccato, a "popular girl". Many idolised Cassandra, regarding her as the be-all and end-all. She was gorgeous, flawless, and rich. As the saying goes, every boy wanted her, every girl wanted to be her. But she was also horribly self-obsessed and dreadfully condescending to girls like Casey and Amelia who she regarded as lower life forms. Cassandra was studying hospitality, but they had a few shared classes like Business Economics and Personnel Management.
"I hope I didn't interrupt you two dykes in the middle of munchin' each other's rugs or nuthin?" Cassandra jibed with a sarcastic smile while chewing gum, open-mouthed as usual.
Casey sighed. Cassandra's running joke about Amelia and Casey being lesbians had persisted since junior high school and it was getting so old. Amelia wasn't one to be bullied, though, and she usually had a comeback.
"Why? Are you jealous Cass? Is no one munching your skanky old rug these days?" Amelia responded.
Cassandra sniffed and was then distracted by several members of her posse entering the locker room.
Amelia and Casey were silently thankful for the interruption and gathered their things with a look and a giggle between them.
