Running used to put her mind at ease. It was a space where she could put order in the messy chaos of her life, her inner life at least. Alex always seemed to have her priorities straight, a specific idea for her career, a clear understanding of where she was going and how. At least that's the idea she gave of herself to people.
Despite her natural shyness, mostly holding her back in personal relationships, when it came to study and work she came through as a rather confident person. A confidence based on solid knowledge and trust in her own skills, reinforced day after day by positive results and feedback. Although if she had to be honest to herself, and there are times you have no other choices, that confidence was but a fine polish over a cracked pavement. Her insecurities were a constant turmoil, an unrelenting force ever pushing and always strenuously pushed back. Only a small number of people could see right through her, one being Laura, her mother of course, and a couple more maybe.
Her ex-boyfriend Oliver couldn't quite grasp what all that fuss was about. He had met the successful, confident, upper-middle class Alex, he didn't get along too well with her socially anxious, irresolute counterpart who came out to play a few months after they started dating. That was probably the reason why they broke up. That and sex. Oliver was good at it, but never in the way Alex wished; she on the other hand was a drag: hardly ever in the mood for what he wanted, and even then there was always something off. It was clear what he expected from her, but Alex was unable to give it to him, not on his terms, but she was also utterly unable to voice her own needs and expectations. She never talked to him about her fantasies, about how important was to her the psychology behind it all, how there was more to a shag than just how big you are, how hard is your thrust and how so fucking good it felt when he was taking her from behind.
Jesus Christ, why was she thinking about Oliver? She had enough on her mind already. And for once running wasn't helping tidying everything up. On the contrary, it made it even harder to concentrate.
How could she?
Part of her brain was constantly busy scanning the surroundings for any onlooker; another was coordinating her movements, a task that felt oddly arduous today; a third one was constantly trying to figure out what people might think of her, or well, mostly imagining all the name calling; and then there was one rather large area whose only job was torturing her with the thought of what kind of show she had been putting on, running around in public in that outfit.
She was actually masturbating to that same kind of scene something like four or five days ago, not even a week. Not a week and she moved from a fantasy to something so very real.
Alex couldn't get quite a hold of what that meant yet. If it took such a short time to bring her there, how far were her wildest fantasies? And her darkest ones? How far was going way beyond anything she ever imagined?
Her white top was tight, but it was also too soft and light to prevent her breasts from bouncing. Without a bra giving them any support, their sway was already hypnotising as she walked, but when she ran it was blatant to the point nobody would have blamed the occasional fellow runner who slowed down, almost stopped, to be able to enjoy the view a second more. The hint of underboob showing through the flimsy and almost transparent fabric became more and more evident, and so much more of a hint, as you got closer. The realisation of what was actually happening before your eyes struck you probably too late, once she was already gone. And maybe you could convince yourself you had seen a nipple slip under the short cover of the cropped sweatshirt, but you would've never been sure.
Keen observers - one would've argued what their real purpose in going to the park was, given their apparent idleness - were harder to avoid. They were sitting on benches or on the grass, or strolling, and they were all invariably drawn by that ephemeral image. They captured every second of it, every movement, every glimpse of skin uncovered by the combination of sheerness and light, or covered but precisely outlined by the stretched fabric of the shorts digging into the flesh.
Alex could feel distinctly the shorts getting tighter on her butt and crotch. They raised up so much on the back, she figured they should be looking almost like bikini bottoms by now. The feeling of fresh air on most of her cheeks just confirmed it. On the front the shorts went up as much as physically possible on her inner thighs, underlining even more the tight triangle of fabric clinging to her pussy.
And then there were women. With their husbands and boyfriends, in small groups or on their own, some working out, some others just passing by. Their looks were a heavier burden for Alex to stand. She wasn't comfortable being constantly ogled by any guy she came across: she felt embarrassed, she felt like a slut begging for their attention. But when it came to women it was even worse. Alex could almost hear their thoughts.
Look at that, what the fuck was she thinking when she got dressed this morning? Let's go on a quick run before I have my shift at the strip club? What a slut. Is she hoping to get some cock right here in the middle of the park? There she is, decades of feminism to allow her to go out dressed like that. I wouldn't show off that much even at a rave. You must be a real whore if that's your workout outfit. She's practically naked. You can see her pussy. Is she wet? Is she getting off on this? What a perv. Good Lord, who wears that in public? We're past any decency. Look at that bimbo, unbelievable. You think a teacher should look like that? What would the other teachers think of you? What would your students think of you? What could they think? It's rather obvious. And what are they supposed to learn from a cunt-driven silly girl like you uh Lexi?
A rather loud chime on her watch startled her. She stopped dead on her tracks trying to catch her breath. Her heart beat faster than it was supposed to after a 15 minutes run.
It was time. She knew it. She had almost memorised the whole set of instructions on her way to the park.
*
Congratulations Alex, you've come a long way. This is your final task. After you've completed it your dare will be over, but most importantly you'll be able to say you have fulfilled one of your fantasies.
You're doing it right now, as you read these lines you're walking around wearing a really daring outfit. Had you ever imagined you could go this far? Had you ever imagined actually walking down the street so scantily dressed, asking yourself if people could get a glimpse of your pussy lips through the fabric of your shorts? How much of your breasts can they actually see? How much are they enjoying the view of your uncovered butt?
And in no time you will be way past this.
Now I want you to reach the park for your workout.
You will start a training session on your FitBit as well, so that Turnons Activity Tracker will be able to get all your data. Then you'll have to go through your workout routine for an hour following this schedule: you'll train for 15 minutes, then stop and edge for 5 minutes; you'll repeat this routine three times.
You have to follow 3 more rules in order to complete the dare:
1. Once you start your training you can't stop. You'll need to follow your schedule for an hour straight. You will be given a 15 minutes tolerance overall.
2. You'll start a live streaming each time you edge. The edge only counts if the activity tracker shows you've been actually on the edge for 5 minutes straight. This means you can't stop but also that you will have a very little time to get on the edge if you want to finish the schedule in time, so I suggest you think of a way to keep your arousal up while you're training.
3. Each time you'll be required to meet one additional condition before you can start edging. Once you're ready to edge click on the button below: the live streaming will start automatically and you'll learn the requirement for that edge.
Good luck.
