Dare Me (new 7/29)
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Dare Me - Chapter 17 - Little Sister, Big Sister (Part 8)
Dare Me - Chapter 17 - Little Sister, Big Sister (Part 8)
Lucy slowly lifted her cheer shirt to reveal the extent of her transgression. Her stomach, navel and rib cage were all illegally labeled. Coach Wilson probably expected her to stop there. But he didn't know she wasn't allowed to stop until she had fully revealed her misdeeds to him.
She kept gradually lifting her top, showing off her nicely formed chest with carefully labeled breasts, nipples, and areolas. Dropping her shirt onto the floor, the topless girl again reached for the waistband of her skirt. She tried to wiggle out of her bloomers in the least sexy way possible. But for a gorgeous young cheerleader, there's no such thing. Letting her skirt and bloomers slide down her legs to the floor, she proved that the lower markings did not stop with her uterus. Every other, intimate piece of her anatomy, inside and out, was clearly labeled in black ink.
Stepping out of the last of her clothes so that she was now only wearing shoes, socks, and a blush, the blushing, blonde girl said, "I'm sorry."
I'm sure Coach Wilson did not expect her to apologize immediately after removing all her clothes like that. "It's, ahem, it's all right," was all he could manage to utter at first. Fortunately, Lucy had instructions and could carry on the conversation.
She quickly asked, "do you think I could maybe...retake the test if I promise not to cheat this time? I'll do it right now if you let me."
This was all part of my plan to amp up her humiliation factor for today's task. Sitting at her desk completely naked while she retook her anatomy quiz would extend her exhibition much longer than the mere hundred count she had spent showing off to the shop teacher, or even the naked cheer she had performed for the appreciative faculty of the English department.
Only after she had convinced Coach Wilson to give her a retake, finished the quiz, and received a grade for it would she be allowed to get dressed and leave his classroom. At least, that had been my plan. Because I wasn't there, I could only control the scenario so much. When Coach Wilson improvised his own idea for dealing with Lucy, she was at his mercy and had to play along.
Gradually recovering from the beautiful girl's sudden exposure, he took control of the situation. "There's one problem with that idea, Miss Jenkins," he said. Then, motioning to the intricate labels all over her body, he asked, "if I let you have a retake, how do I know you won't just cheat again?"
"I, well, I promise?" she offered hopefully, but her confidence faltered as she was saying it. Why should he believe the promises of an admitted cheater? As he considered her response, his eyes roamed up and down her incredible exhibition. She had to fight to keep her hands from trying to cover up the most interesting bits. Her bald, puckered pussy, in particular, seemed to attract a large portion of his attention.
"That's not going to be good enough, I'm afraid," he concluded, rounding his teacher's desk to rummage inside one of the deep drawers, "but don't worry, I think I have a solution that will satisfy both of us. You've been nothing but a perfect angel in my class this year, and your labels do seem to be in order and accurate."
Finding what he was searching for, he closed his drawer and smiled. He approached her carrying a strip of fabric and his wooden pointer stick.
"Since you did the right thing and came to me, I am willing to give you a re-test. But I'm afraid the only way I can truly know that you aren't cheating is if I cover your eyes and make it an oral exam."
Lucy's mouth fell open. She wanted to argue but didn't know what to say. To complete her task, she only had to take the test again. It didn't matter whether it was oral or written. Going along with this new plan seemed like the quickest way to getting her clothes back on. So, she held still and let him wrap the blindfold over her eyes. "Can't have you peeking at the answers," he teased.
Seeing only darkness, she felt a tingling sensation spread over every inch of her exposed skin as her body continued to warn her about the extreme exposure she was subjecting it to. The naked girl gulped when she heard his classroom door lock with an ominous click. Well, at least she didn't have to worry about them being disturbed now. But she wasn't sure that was necessarily a good thing anymore.
She heard his footsteps approaching again and jumped when he unexpectedly grabbed both her elbows. He gave an excuse that she needed to keep her hands on top of her head to give him access to administer the exam. The embarrassing pose left her even more exposed than before. It further stretched out her already narrow torso and caused her bulging breasts to be thrust prominently forward.
Without the use of her eyes, her other senses were on high alert. She listened intently as he circled her naked body to take in the unbelievable view from every angle. As he walked, he explained how the exam would work. He was going to point to each body part and it was her job to tell him the correct name for it. He then, without warning, laid the tip of the wooden stick against her impressive bottom. Lucy, understandably, flinched and involuntarily flexed all the muscles of her backside at once. It sent the pointer springing off her tight ass before rebounding with a gentle slapping sound and coming to rest once again against her butt cheek. Coach Wilson chuckled.
When he asked her what he was pointing to, she reluctantly answered, "m-m-my bottom". He happily responded, "very good, Miss Jenkins!" One question down, many to go. Well, at least he wasn't using his bare hand to point at things!
She did her best to hold still as the stick traveled up and down her exposed anatomy. Wherever it landed, he waited patiently for her to say which naked body part he was pointing to. She sensed it was coming, but still sucked in her breath when the pointer traveled up her ribcage to rest against her unprotected, round breast. He refused to move until she confirmed for him what he was pointing to.
She correctly identified her bright, pink areola then gasped when the pointy, rubber tip “accidentally” flicked her equally pointy, stiff, right nipple. Recovering, she called out the right answer.
"Well, done, Miss Jenkins," he commended her, "very impressive! But, as you know, external organs were just a small portion of the quiz. If you will spread your legs further, we can move on to your reproductive system."
Lucy's heart sank. Because he had avoided that part of her body so far, she was holding out hope that he might skip that part altogether. But he was just saving the best for last. With a sigh, she spread her feet further apart to give him better access to her sex. He started with the drawing of her uterus. Without hesitation, she confidently and accurately called out every part of her womb, an area she had studied extensively.
But then, without warning, he slid the pointer between her legs, directly onto her plump, unprotected pussy mound! Lucy gasped, straining on her tiptoes to evade the wooden poker. But it was no trouble for Coach Wilson to simply adjust the stick to keep its tip continually kissing her outer lips while she squirmed and flexed. He had to have noticed the coating of moisture on her shiny pussy lips. But how could he have known that the very dare that had driven her to come into his classroom in the first place and take off all her clothes for him is precisely what had reactivated her diamond factory?
Through gasping breaths, Lucy was able to identify her labia majora. But as soon as the pointer tip pushed through her outer lips, her eyes shot open, and her legs nearly gave out. Opening her eyes served no benefit. She still saw only darkness, and it did not stop the probe from continuing to press further into her inner sanctum of womanhood. With her entire being collapsing down to that single point, her mind went blank, and she cried out the only word she could think of: "Clitoris!"
With a disappointed "tsk", Coach Wilson had to count her wrong. He made her stand there, dancing uncontrollably upon the tip of the insistent stick and wracking her brain to remember other possibilities until, between breathless pants, she finally stumbled upon the right answer.
But one correct guess did not end her humiliating ordeal. He merely repositioned the pointer inside her sex and started the process over again. Lucy tried her hardest to distinguish what was going on inside her throbbing pussy and to accurately call out what it felt like Coach Wilson was poking. But no matter how he positioned the stick, it always felt like he was pressing against the same spot. With her humiliation burning, she incorrectly guessed "clitoris" at least half a dozen more times during that portion of the exam.
She knew she was tanking her score with all those wrong answers, but she didn't care. She was just trying to get through it without something worse happening. I can't imagine the humiliation she would have felt if she lost control and accidentally made a diamond right in front of her teacher. She would have never lived it down!
To her great relief, Coach Wilson finally extracted the pointer and announced, "you've done very good, Miss Jenkins. I do believe you've earned yourself an A+!"
Lucy didn't have to act relieved. She couldn't care less about her test score at that point. She was just happy that, having officially completed the quiz and received her score, she was now allowed to get dressed and get out of there.
It caught Coach Wilson off guard when her behavior changed so suddenly and, quick as flipping a light switch, she threw off her blindfold and started scrambling to retrieve her clothes and put them back on.
"If you want to stick around, I-I can give you some more assignments. Maybe you would like to...earn a little extra credit?" he suggested hopefully. He had been having so much fun with her and didn't want the games to end.
"No thanks," Lucy replied, having already put her shirt back on in record time. As she was pulling her skirt up her legs, she realized something was missing and started scanning the floor around her.
When she had taken off her clothes, she had dropped her bloomers directly at her feet. So, it's not like they could have gone far. They had simply disappeared! Already lacking panties, she couldn't afford to drop the matter and just go to the football game without her bloomers. Every time she did a leap, the entire audience would be able to catch a glimpse of her glistening, bald pussy. And the cartwheels would give everyone more than a glimpse!
Remembering how Mr. Frenzel, the wood shop teacher, had swiped her bra and panties a couple days earlier, she bashfully asked, "um, Coach Wilson, did you take my bloomers?"
"What?! No!" he quickly replied, "but, ahem, I will help you look for them."
Miraculously, he "found" them under his desk not a minute later. Lucy slipped them on as she rushed out of the room, leaving her Health teacher with nothing but a fond memory and, probably, a severe case of blue balls.
Later that night, after the football game, she came to me, not to complain, but to outright beg for mercy. This was more like the type of desperation I was used to seeing from her during her dares and told me all I needed to know about the effectiveness of her anatomy task.
After hearing her describe the ordeal to me, I had no more doubts if she was sufficiently motivated. I knew she would do whatever it took to avoid another humiliating ordeal like that. I still had to wonder if my difficult assignment was truly impossible, a question upon which Lucy made her opinion abundantly clear.
Before, during, and after the game, she had spoken to as many cheerleaders as would listen to her about me. But to hear her describe it, I was still a pariah, and no one wanted anything to do with "that loser, Mike Jenkins".
"You're still not trying hard enough," I whined, "you can't just talk me up to your teammates and expect it to get the job done. Come on, Goosey! I know how creative you can be when you want to. You sure used your creativity when you made that stupid drawing."
"I don't understand," she exclaimed, "how is being more creative going to help me do this?"
"I don't know, think outside the box," I shrugged, unhelpfully, "in the meantime, what's your pick for tomorrow? Student or teacher?"
She growled at me. Like, actually bared her teeth and growled; like an animal. I think she was really starting to despise that question. But I just sat silently with an amused smile on my face until she gave me an answer. Finally, though it pained her, through gritted teeth, she said, "teacher".
It surprised me a little to see, even after the ordeal she had just endured at the hands of Coach Wilson, that she was still picking "teacher". I had underestimated how badly she wanted to preserve her modesty in front of her classmates. But it kind of made sense. Now that she was older and more mature - growing more in social awareness by the day - she had her reputation to think about. I could use that!
If I wanted to give her something that would make her think long and hard before ever picking "teacher" again, I had my work cut out for me. My list of pervy teachers was growing thin, and I had already played my Coach Easterling card. So, how was going to top a naked anatomy quiz without adding students into the mix?
To do that, I reached into my old, reliable box of dare tools. I'm talking, of course, about heat, pressure, and time. I had wielded them all frequently enough by now to appreciate their unique qualities and abilities. I respected them like a skilled craftsman would his most valuable tools.
More risk would no doubt create more pressure, but I had to be careful wielding that dangerous blade. She was already taking great risks every time she took her clothes off at school. If I got careless with her next task and she ended up accidentally exposed to students after she had specifically picked "teacher", Lucy would cry foul.
Knowing how scared she was of being caught naked in school by a bunch of students, I was able to throw in a little more pressure. But my biggest adjustment would be to time. With each task, I had gradually been extending the time she spent without clothes on. Tomorrow's task, I decided, would be the longest one yet. Putting it all together, I felt like this would be the ideal task to motivate her! If this didn't compel Lucy to get creative and finally get me a cheerleader, nothing would!
The key to her next challenge would be my Algebra teacher, Mr. Nickson. He was a nice man; soft-spoken, and a little nerdy. I almost felt bad for roping him in like I did...almost. I got the idea after watching him react to a prank suffered by one of the girls in our class. Some troublemakers had put superglue in her chair - not very creative, I know. I could have come up with something much better!
Anyway, the girl didn't notice until about halfway into the lesson when she reached down to get something out of her backpack and her blouse held her back. When she realized that she - or rather, her outfit - was stuck to her chair, she started to panic.
Mr. Nickson (no relation to the former president, they're spelled differently, he always made sure to point that out) dropped his chalk and rushed to her aid. With students snickering and pointing at her, the girl's flight instinct kicked in and she started to hyperventilate and squirm with increasing alarm, desperate to get away from this embarrassing predicament. But from the looks of things, her blouse and skirt, weren't going anywhere anytime soon.
She tried to stand up only to hear seams start to pop all over her clothes. Completing that maneuver would likely leave her standing in the middle of her Algebra class in just her bra and panties. No girl could possibly survive such a humiliating result.
Speaking with the most authoritative voice I had ever heard from him, Mr. Nickson took control of the situation. Immediately, he ordered everyone out into the hallway. The students got quiet and quickly obeyed when they heard how serious he was. It was quite chivalrous of him. When the girl emerged a few minutes later, she was crying softly and holding the rags of her outfit. Mr. Nickson had taken off his suit coat and wrapped it around her for modesty. After escorting her somewhere, he returned with a vengeance to meter out justice.
Although everyone had reacted to some degree, it wasn't hard to work out that the two boys laughing the loudest had been the instigators of the prank. They hadn't even been smart enough to hide the evidence! He found the bottle of superglue in one of their backpacks and they confessed. They both received a long suspension and were required to write the girl an apology letter.
Seeing what great lengths Mr. Nickson was willing to go to help a damsel in distress is what gave me the idea to use him for Lucy's next task. I just had to produce a sufficiently distressed damsel for him to assist. That would be the easy part!
Lucy slowly lifted her cheer shirt to reveal the extent of her transgression. Her stomach, navel and rib cage were all illegally labeled. Coach Wilson probably expected her to stop there. But he didn't know she wasn't allowed to stop until she had fully revealed her misdeeds to him.
She kept gradually lifting her top, showing off her nicely formed chest with carefully labeled breasts, nipples, and areolas. Dropping her shirt onto the floor, the topless girl again reached for the waistband of her skirt. She tried to wiggle out of her bloomers in the least sexy way possible. But for a gorgeous young cheerleader, there's no such thing. Letting her skirt and bloomers slide down her legs to the floor, she proved that the lower markings did not stop with her uterus. Every other, intimate piece of her anatomy, inside and out, was clearly labeled in black ink.
Stepping out of the last of her clothes so that she was now only wearing shoes, socks, and a blush, the blushing, blonde girl said, "I'm sorry."
I'm sure Coach Wilson did not expect her to apologize immediately after removing all her clothes like that. "It's, ahem, it's all right," was all he could manage to utter at first. Fortunately, Lucy had instructions and could carry on the conversation.
She quickly asked, "do you think I could maybe...retake the test if I promise not to cheat this time? I'll do it right now if you let me."
This was all part of my plan to amp up her humiliation factor for today's task. Sitting at her desk completely naked while she retook her anatomy quiz would extend her exhibition much longer than the mere hundred count she had spent showing off to the shop teacher, or even the naked cheer she had performed for the appreciative faculty of the English department.
Only after she had convinced Coach Wilson to give her a retake, finished the quiz, and received a grade for it would she be allowed to get dressed and leave his classroom. At least, that had been my plan. Because I wasn't there, I could only control the scenario so much. When Coach Wilson improvised his own idea for dealing with Lucy, she was at his mercy and had to play along.
Gradually recovering from the beautiful girl's sudden exposure, he took control of the situation. "There's one problem with that idea, Miss Jenkins," he said. Then, motioning to the intricate labels all over her body, he asked, "if I let you have a retake, how do I know you won't just cheat again?"
"I, well, I promise?" she offered hopefully, but her confidence faltered as she was saying it. Why should he believe the promises of an admitted cheater? As he considered her response, his eyes roamed up and down her incredible exhibition. She had to fight to keep her hands from trying to cover up the most interesting bits. Her bald, puckered pussy, in particular, seemed to attract a large portion of his attention.
"That's not going to be good enough, I'm afraid," he concluded, rounding his teacher's desk to rummage inside one of the deep drawers, "but don't worry, I think I have a solution that will satisfy both of us. You've been nothing but a perfect angel in my class this year, and your labels do seem to be in order and accurate."
Finding what he was searching for, he closed his drawer and smiled. He approached her carrying a strip of fabric and his wooden pointer stick.
"Since you did the right thing and came to me, I am willing to give you a re-test. But I'm afraid the only way I can truly know that you aren't cheating is if I cover your eyes and make it an oral exam."
Lucy's mouth fell open. She wanted to argue but didn't know what to say. To complete her task, she only had to take the test again. It didn't matter whether it was oral or written. Going along with this new plan seemed like the quickest way to getting her clothes back on. So, she held still and let him wrap the blindfold over her eyes. "Can't have you peeking at the answers," he teased.
Seeing only darkness, she felt a tingling sensation spread over every inch of her exposed skin as her body continued to warn her about the extreme exposure she was subjecting it to. The naked girl gulped when she heard his classroom door lock with an ominous click. Well, at least she didn't have to worry about them being disturbed now. But she wasn't sure that was necessarily a good thing anymore.
She heard his footsteps approaching again and jumped when he unexpectedly grabbed both her elbows. He gave an excuse that she needed to keep her hands on top of her head to give him access to administer the exam. The embarrassing pose left her even more exposed than before. It further stretched out her already narrow torso and caused her bulging breasts to be thrust prominently forward.
Without the use of her eyes, her other senses were on high alert. She listened intently as he circled her naked body to take in the unbelievable view from every angle. As he walked, he explained how the exam would work. He was going to point to each body part and it was her job to tell him the correct name for it. He then, without warning, laid the tip of the wooden stick against her impressive bottom. Lucy, understandably, flinched and involuntarily flexed all the muscles of her backside at once. It sent the pointer springing off her tight ass before rebounding with a gentle slapping sound and coming to rest once again against her butt cheek. Coach Wilson chuckled.
When he asked her what he was pointing to, she reluctantly answered, "m-m-my bottom". He happily responded, "very good, Miss Jenkins!" One question down, many to go. Well, at least he wasn't using his bare hand to point at things!
She did her best to hold still as the stick traveled up and down her exposed anatomy. Wherever it landed, he waited patiently for her to say which naked body part he was pointing to. She sensed it was coming, but still sucked in her breath when the pointer traveled up her ribcage to rest against her unprotected, round breast. He refused to move until she confirmed for him what he was pointing to.
She correctly identified her bright, pink areola then gasped when the pointy, rubber tip “accidentally” flicked her equally pointy, stiff, right nipple. Recovering, she called out the right answer.
"Well, done, Miss Jenkins," he commended her, "very impressive! But, as you know, external organs were just a small portion of the quiz. If you will spread your legs further, we can move on to your reproductive system."
Lucy's heart sank. Because he had avoided that part of her body so far, she was holding out hope that he might skip that part altogether. But he was just saving the best for last. With a sigh, she spread her feet further apart to give him better access to her sex. He started with the drawing of her uterus. Without hesitation, she confidently and accurately called out every part of her womb, an area she had studied extensively.
But then, without warning, he slid the pointer between her legs, directly onto her plump, unprotected pussy mound! Lucy gasped, straining on her tiptoes to evade the wooden poker. But it was no trouble for Coach Wilson to simply adjust the stick to keep its tip continually kissing her outer lips while she squirmed and flexed. He had to have noticed the coating of moisture on her shiny pussy lips. But how could he have known that the very dare that had driven her to come into his classroom in the first place and take off all her clothes for him is precisely what had reactivated her diamond factory?
Through gasping breaths, Lucy was able to identify her labia majora. But as soon as the pointer tip pushed through her outer lips, her eyes shot open, and her legs nearly gave out. Opening her eyes served no benefit. She still saw only darkness, and it did not stop the probe from continuing to press further into her inner sanctum of womanhood. With her entire being collapsing down to that single point, her mind went blank, and she cried out the only word she could think of: "Clitoris!"
With a disappointed "tsk", Coach Wilson had to count her wrong. He made her stand there, dancing uncontrollably upon the tip of the insistent stick and wracking her brain to remember other possibilities until, between breathless pants, she finally stumbled upon the right answer.
But one correct guess did not end her humiliating ordeal. He merely repositioned the pointer inside her sex and started the process over again. Lucy tried her hardest to distinguish what was going on inside her throbbing pussy and to accurately call out what it felt like Coach Wilson was poking. But no matter how he positioned the stick, it always felt like he was pressing against the same spot. With her humiliation burning, she incorrectly guessed "clitoris" at least half a dozen more times during that portion of the exam.
She knew she was tanking her score with all those wrong answers, but she didn't care. She was just trying to get through it without something worse happening. I can't imagine the humiliation she would have felt if she lost control and accidentally made a diamond right in front of her teacher. She would have never lived it down!
To her great relief, Coach Wilson finally extracted the pointer and announced, "you've done very good, Miss Jenkins. I do believe you've earned yourself an A+!"
Lucy didn't have to act relieved. She couldn't care less about her test score at that point. She was just happy that, having officially completed the quiz and received her score, she was now allowed to get dressed and get out of there.
It caught Coach Wilson off guard when her behavior changed so suddenly and, quick as flipping a light switch, she threw off her blindfold and started scrambling to retrieve her clothes and put them back on.
"If you want to stick around, I-I can give you some more assignments. Maybe you would like to...earn a little extra credit?" he suggested hopefully. He had been having so much fun with her and didn't want the games to end.
"No thanks," Lucy replied, having already put her shirt back on in record time. As she was pulling her skirt up her legs, she realized something was missing and started scanning the floor around her.
When she had taken off her clothes, she had dropped her bloomers directly at her feet. So, it's not like they could have gone far. They had simply disappeared! Already lacking panties, she couldn't afford to drop the matter and just go to the football game without her bloomers. Every time she did a leap, the entire audience would be able to catch a glimpse of her glistening, bald pussy. And the cartwheels would give everyone more than a glimpse!
Remembering how Mr. Frenzel, the wood shop teacher, had swiped her bra and panties a couple days earlier, she bashfully asked, "um, Coach Wilson, did you take my bloomers?"
"What?! No!" he quickly replied, "but, ahem, I will help you look for them."
Miraculously, he "found" them under his desk not a minute later. Lucy slipped them on as she rushed out of the room, leaving her Health teacher with nothing but a fond memory and, probably, a severe case of blue balls.
Later that night, after the football game, she came to me, not to complain, but to outright beg for mercy. This was more like the type of desperation I was used to seeing from her during her dares and told me all I needed to know about the effectiveness of her anatomy task.
After hearing her describe the ordeal to me, I had no more doubts if she was sufficiently motivated. I knew she would do whatever it took to avoid another humiliating ordeal like that. I still had to wonder if my difficult assignment was truly impossible, a question upon which Lucy made her opinion abundantly clear.
Before, during, and after the game, she had spoken to as many cheerleaders as would listen to her about me. But to hear her describe it, I was still a pariah, and no one wanted anything to do with "that loser, Mike Jenkins".
"You're still not trying hard enough," I whined, "you can't just talk me up to your teammates and expect it to get the job done. Come on, Goosey! I know how creative you can be when you want to. You sure used your creativity when you made that stupid drawing."
"I don't understand," she exclaimed, "how is being more creative going to help me do this?"
"I don't know, think outside the box," I shrugged, unhelpfully, "in the meantime, what's your pick for tomorrow? Student or teacher?"
She growled at me. Like, actually bared her teeth and growled; like an animal. I think she was really starting to despise that question. But I just sat silently with an amused smile on my face until she gave me an answer. Finally, though it pained her, through gritted teeth, she said, "teacher".
It surprised me a little to see, even after the ordeal she had just endured at the hands of Coach Wilson, that she was still picking "teacher". I had underestimated how badly she wanted to preserve her modesty in front of her classmates. But it kind of made sense. Now that she was older and more mature - growing more in social awareness by the day - she had her reputation to think about. I could use that!
If I wanted to give her something that would make her think long and hard before ever picking "teacher" again, I had my work cut out for me. My list of pervy teachers was growing thin, and I had already played my Coach Easterling card. So, how was going to top a naked anatomy quiz without adding students into the mix?
To do that, I reached into my old, reliable box of dare tools. I'm talking, of course, about heat, pressure, and time. I had wielded them all frequently enough by now to appreciate their unique qualities and abilities. I respected them like a skilled craftsman would his most valuable tools.
More risk would no doubt create more pressure, but I had to be careful wielding that dangerous blade. She was already taking great risks every time she took her clothes off at school. If I got careless with her next task and she ended up accidentally exposed to students after she had specifically picked "teacher", Lucy would cry foul.
Knowing how scared she was of being caught naked in school by a bunch of students, I was able to throw in a little more pressure. But my biggest adjustment would be to time. With each task, I had gradually been extending the time she spent without clothes on. Tomorrow's task, I decided, would be the longest one yet. Putting it all together, I felt like this would be the ideal task to motivate her! If this didn't compel Lucy to get creative and finally get me a cheerleader, nothing would!
The key to her next challenge would be my Algebra teacher, Mr. Nickson. He was a nice man; soft-spoken, and a little nerdy. I almost felt bad for roping him in like I did...almost. I got the idea after watching him react to a prank suffered by one of the girls in our class. Some troublemakers had put superglue in her chair - not very creative, I know. I could have come up with something much better!
Anyway, the girl didn't notice until about halfway into the lesson when she reached down to get something out of her backpack and her blouse held her back. When she realized that she - or rather, her outfit - was stuck to her chair, she started to panic.
Mr. Nickson (no relation to the former president, they're spelled differently, he always made sure to point that out) dropped his chalk and rushed to her aid. With students snickering and pointing at her, the girl's flight instinct kicked in and she started to hyperventilate and squirm with increasing alarm, desperate to get away from this embarrassing predicament. But from the looks of things, her blouse and skirt, weren't going anywhere anytime soon.
She tried to stand up only to hear seams start to pop all over her clothes. Completing that maneuver would likely leave her standing in the middle of her Algebra class in just her bra and panties. No girl could possibly survive such a humiliating result.
Speaking with the most authoritative voice I had ever heard from him, Mr. Nickson took control of the situation. Immediately, he ordered everyone out into the hallway. The students got quiet and quickly obeyed when they heard how serious he was. It was quite chivalrous of him. When the girl emerged a few minutes later, she was crying softly and holding the rags of her outfit. Mr. Nickson had taken off his suit coat and wrapped it around her for modesty. After escorting her somewhere, he returned with a vengeance to meter out justice.
Although everyone had reacted to some degree, it wasn't hard to work out that the two boys laughing the loudest had been the instigators of the prank. They hadn't even been smart enough to hide the evidence! He found the bottle of superglue in one of their backpacks and they confessed. They both received a long suspension and were required to write the girl an apology letter.
Seeing what great lengths Mr. Nickson was willing to go to help a damsel in distress is what gave me the idea to use him for Lucy's next task. I just had to produce a sufficiently distressed damsel for him to assist. That would be the easy part!
Re: Dare Me (new 2/26)
I just noticed two more future stories have been added:
Chapter 19 - Goosey Lays an Egg
Chapter 20 - The Summer of a Thousand Diamonds
One chapter at a time--or else the suspense will be unbearable.
Chapter 19 - Goosey Lays an Egg
Chapter 20 - The Summer of a Thousand Diamonds
One chapter at a time--or else the suspense will be unbearable.
- perseus
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Re: Dare Me (new 2/26)
The last few chapters have been incredible! That was a really creative take on a classic anatomy lesson on a naked girl! I love how Lucy keeps picking teacher to preserve her reputation among the students, I imagine that can't hold forever though. I'm really looking forward to seeing how Mr. Nickson is going to save the "damsel" this time!
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Re: Dare Me (new 2/26)
Lucy sure is worried about her reputation among students, isn't she? But I bet gaining a reputation among teachers isn't going to help her middle school life, either...
Gotta say, Coach Wilson sure is lucky to have Lucy in his school. He's going to remember her body till the end of his days.
Gotta say, Coach Wilson sure is lucky to have Lucy in his school. He's going to remember her body till the end of his days.
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Dare Me - Chapter 17 - Little Sister, Big Sister (Part 9)
Dare Me - Chapter 17 - Little Sister, Big Sister (Part 9)
It had been four days since the start of my sister's latest dare. As far as I could tell, she was no closer to completing the difficult assignment now than on day one. I was done messing around and expected today's task would send her a clear message that I was growing impatient with her lack of progress.
No longer content to just motivate her, for the first time, I incorporated a proper punishment as well. I wanted the consequences of her failure to reverberate into the coming weekend; long after her naked task had finished.
Lucy was already awake when I knocked on her door before dawn. She had been pacing - a sign that her day's assignment weighed heavily on her. I wasn't surprised when she tried one last time to negotiate an alternative. But I wouldn't hear of it. I was just there to pick out her Friday outfit.
Unlike previous tasks which had come later in the day, this one had to occur during first period. Driving her to school in the outfit I had chosen despite her protests, I dropped her off, bright and early, right at the main entrance. She was not happy at all about the outfit, but I thought it was rather cute.
Stepping out of the car, she hugged her chest even more tightly than usual due to the plain, white dress shirt she was wearing. The indecently thin blouse was meant to be worn with multiple other layers of fabric, never alone. But that's all she was allowed up top. Clearly seeing see her bare shoulder blades and spine through the thin material made it obvious to anyone looking at her from behind that she didn't have a bra on. She would have to be extra careful today if she didn't want any boy to see her growing boobs and pink nipples through the equally thin front.
We were so early that most of the teachers hadn't even arrived yet. That gave her enough time to get ready for her task and gave me a chance to run and grab breakfast before arriving at a more normal time.
Before driving off, I watched her walk up the main stairs toward the bank of front doors. With both her arms needed to protect her chest, she couldn't spare a hand to hold down her uncomfortably short, plaid schoolgirl skirt. Even being extra careful not to bounce too much between steps, I saw way too much of her impressive, bare bottom and girly secrets when the playful pleats flew up a little too high. She would have to be strategic about climbing the stairs all day if she was going to avoid flashing her classmates.
Speaking of stairs, her task required her to start at a particular stairwell in the Math hallway. She didn't know my Algebra teacher, but I had told her the class number and explained that there was a stairwell right across the hall from his room.
Always studious, Mr. Nickson had already arrived and was getting ready for his day. He followed the exact same schedule every week. Monday was a review of the previous week while, Tuesday through Thursday was for learning new material. There was always a quiz on Friday. Lucy walked past his room once to make sure he was in there and alone before heading to the stairwell. She was more jittery than usual, and for good reason. This would be the most dangerous task of her dare so far. And to pull it off would require her to play her part to perfection.
She tried to calm her nerves with a deep breath, but it didn't work. I won't spoil it by telling you why, but her dread of today's task was especially strong. Working quickly, she tucked into the alcove beneath the bottom stairs and started taking her clothes off. Her skirt and blouse didn't take long. Wadding them up, she stuffed them into her backpack. The loss of covering made her shiver.
She looked exceptionally sexy, dressed in just her black dress shoes and white, knee-high stockings. A beautiful, blonde, schoolgirl walking through the halls of her junior high like that could have made some lucky boy's wildest fantasies come true! It's a shame that, unlike her previous tasks, today's would require her to also remove her shoes and socks.
She had trouble undoing the buckles on her Mary-Jane's because of her trembling hands. You would think, having stripped in this same school three days in a row, she wouldn't be so nervous. But it wasn't just the nudity that was bothering her today. Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. Feeling time slipping away, she gave up on the buckles and just squeezed her feet out between the straps before peeling her stockings off her shapely calves and to the ground.
Having removed every last scrap of covering from her body, she tucked her backpack out of sight as far back into the alcove as it would go. She had to hope no one would notice it and that it would still be there when her task was done. Otherwise, she would be forced to run all the way across the school to retrieve an extra set of clothes from the locker room.
Turning her back on her backpack before she could change her mind and chicken out, she padded over and peeked through the door out into the hall. It was empty, but she couldn't say for how much longer. She could see Mr. Nickson's open door just across from her but found leaving her clothes behind difficult.
She found even lifting her foot a strain as her body fought her. But knowing students were already arriving to start their day and the halls would be filling soon, she couldn't afford to stall. With a burst of adrenaline, she whipped open the door and shoved her own body out into the hall. Exposed and extremely vulnerable now, every instinct was telling her to turn around and retrieve her clothes.
But, driven forward by something even more powerful - her dare - she took one step after another until she reached the midway point of the hall. It was like a point of no return. As soon as she crossed it, something shifted inside her and she felt drawn to his doorway.
She used the remaining steps to mentally go over what she had to do next. Her job was to be convincing enough for Mr. Nickson to think her a damsel in distress and assist her in her time of need. I had assured her that, once he heard her story, he would take pity on her and come to her aid. But I wasn't the one who had to put on a nude performance.
Her last thought, as she burst through his open door, was how stupid of her it was not to check again and make sure there were no students inside. But fortune was on her side this time, and it was just him.
Entering the room, she spotted him and ran up. "Please, sir, you have to help me!" she exclaimed between panicked breaths.
She didn't have to feign being embarrassed. And covering herself with her hands helped to sell the image of a girl in deep distress over her missing clothes. Her wild eyes and embarrassed pose probably did a serviceable job selling him on her predicament. But let's be honest. Her bare body did most of the heavy lifting.
As expected, Mr. Nickson took one look at her and kicked into chivalry mode, "It's going to be ok. Of course I'll help you! Just tell me what happened."
"I can't tell you," she replied, eyeing the doorway, "I don't want them to get in trouble."
At the mention of a "them", he rushed to his door and looked up and down the hallway. Perhaps he was hoping to catch someone in the act, or at least figure out who had taken this poor girl's clothes. Seeing nobody out there, he pulled the door closed and reached for his keys to lock it behind him. But they were on his desk. Heading over to retrieve them, he asked Lucy the obvious question.
"Don't want who to get in trouble?"
'Y-you promise you won't tell anybody?" she asked nervously, still doing her best to strategically cover her most private parts.
"I can't promise that," he replied diplomatically, "but I can only help you if you tell me what's going on."
Doing the honorable thing, he shed his jacket, intending to give her something to cover herself at least temporarily while he sorted this out. I told Lucy to expect this move and she was prepared for it. Squealing, she recoiled in fear and backed away from the jacket like it was on fire.
Dropping the jacket on his desk and showing her his open palms, he said, "woah, it's ok. Why don't you start by telling me your name and what grade you're in."
Still eyeing the jacket warily, she answered, "Lucy-seventh".
"Ok, Lucy," he ventured, "are you hurt?"
With a sniffle, she shook her head. Her breathing was starting to normalize, but her heart was still pounding. There was no apparent reason why she would refuse an offer of clothes, but she continued to look very concerned about that jacket. She bore no marks on her body, no sign of injury, although she did have an understandable blush on her face.
Since her distress appeared to be more emotional than physical, and since she refused to take the covering he had offered, he didn't know what else to do except continue his line of questioning, "Can you tell me how you got here? Who did this to you?"
She thought for a moment, before admitting, "it was the cheer team,” quickly adding, "but you can't tell anybody I told you!"
He hadn't expected that answer. "The cheer team? Are you sure?" he asked.
Lucy nodded a confirmation before giving him the explanation I had crafted for her, "uh-huh, they called it 'hazing', I think. Everyone does it if they want to be on the team. All I have to do is spend one period hiding inside a class full of students n-n-naked."
Mr. Nickson nodded slowly as the picture started to come into focus.
Still in 'save the day' mode, he tried to help. "Don't worry, Miss Lucy, you don't have to do this. Whoever is doing this to you has overstepped their authority. I believe Miss Easterling is in charge of the cheer program. Once she hears, I'm sure she will put a stop to all this hazing talk."
He assumed his words would be received as a comfort to her. But when he reached for the jacket again to cover her nudity, Lucy cried out, "NO!". Wincing, as if she were in pain, she said, "I can't take that. They'll kick me off the team if they find out I put anything on. And if you tell Coach, they'll all know that I told on them! You-you can't!"
Her sparkling eyes grew heavy with tears, and she sniffled. A few even started rolling down her cheeks. I have to give her credit for that one. I'm pretty sure it's not possible to look more like a vulnerable, damsel in distress than a naked, crying girl.
Mr. Nickson didn't know what to do. He couldn't get this girl to put anything on. And the longer she stood there, the greater his own risk became.
"ok, ok, settle down," he said, softening his approach even as his voice grew more strained. Knowing better than to go for the jacket again, he stretched out his hand to give her a reassuring pat. But finding no appropriate place to pat her that wasn't dangerously close to naked, female flesh, he settled for the very top of her head.
"Look, I want to help you. I really do! But...surely, you understand I can't let you stay here and do what you're asking, hazing or no. You can't just hide out in a classroom for an entire period without being seen. It's impossible."
Lucy took that as an opportunity to prove him wrong. After making a cursory scan of the room, her eyes landed on his oversized desk, which I had already told her about. Because it was in the front corner of the classroom and went all the way to the floor, it would be the perfect hiding spot for a naked student.
Without waiting for permission, she rounded the desk and pulled out his chair. Crawling into the vacated space, she curled herself up into a ball to show how hidden she could be. When he came around to look, he saw her fresh face and bright blue eyes peering out at him from the shadows like some Dickensian peasant girl.
Then she switched into little sister mode. Clasping her hands and batting her long eyelashes, she begged in her sweetest voice, "just let me stay down here. I'll be quiet. I promise no one will ever know and I'll be gone as soon as class is over! Can't you help me just this once? Pleeeease?"
Mr. Nickson wavered. He was torn between honoring the sole request of a damsel in distress and the extreme personal risk that harboring a naked girl in his classroom represented. It stressed him out to have such a risky arrangement foisted upon him.
With Lucy entrenched under his desk where he couldn't reach her, he chickened out and said, "I'm calling Miss Easterling."
He took a step toward the administrative phone on the wall as Lucy opened her mouth to form a protest, crawling partly out from under the desk to stop him. But they were both interrupted by the sound of the door handle rattling.
"Mr. Nickson, are you in here?" a tentative new voice called out. It was the first student arriving for class!
Lucy and Mr. Nickson both jumped out of their skin, but for different reasons. As the door swung open, Lucy dove back into her hiding spot before the face that appeared in the gap could see her. Mr. Nickson kicked himself for forgetting to follow through with locking the door. More students, who had apparently been waiting in the hall, immediately trickled in behind the first. Seeing that it was too late now to call in reinforcements, his focus became making sure none of them found the naked stowaway. Stumbling over, both, his feet, and his words, he scrambled to greet the students in a casual fashion and to put some distance between himself and his desk.
He transformed into a stressed-out goalie. Shuffling back and forth, he intercepted any student who, on the way to their seat, looked like they might be heading too close to the front of the classroom, and gently sent them on a detoured route.
Lucy used the distraction to reach up and slide his top desk drawer open, no more than an inch, and blindly feel around for a writing utensil. Having successfully inserted herself completely naked into a quickly filling classroom, it was time to begin the next phase of her treacherous trial. I figured, since she would be stuck under there for the whole class, she would enjoy having something to work on. When I told her my intention, she was not happy about it. But I insisted. Locating a pen, she silently slid the drawer shut and settled back into her spot.
Eager to see if she had pulled the first phase off, I was tempted, as I entered the Math hallway, to stop in and check the stairwell. I should be able to find her backpack tucked under the stairs with all her clothes inside. But if someone caught me snooping around back there, they could grow suspicious why I was holding a girl's backpack full of clothes and the entire undertaking could be ruined. So, I stayed away.
I didn't have to wonder long, though. Entering the classroom and seeing how strange Mr. Nickson was acting told me everything I needed to know. The way he kept a safe distance while also regularly glancing over at his desk made it easy to guess where the naked student was hiding out. After the first period bell rang, we all stood for the pledge of allegiance. I almost laughed out loud when I pictured her trying to hold her hand dutifully to her breast and silently mouthing along with the other students.
It was hard to resist the urge to check on her. I could have come up with some excuse to make my way to the front of the class and peek under the teacher's desk. But Mr. Nickson remained vigilant and would almost certainly intercept me before I got close enough to see my sister. So, I had to settle for using my imagination.
I wondered what a nerve-wracking experience it had to be, stuck completely naked, with her clothes across the hall, and surrounded by a class full of oblivious students. And more, any second, someone might notice her, and all Hell would break loose!
Mr. Nickson did his best to project normalcy. We had studied the same unit all week in preparation for the Friday quiz he had prepared. But first, per his routine, students were allowed to ask him any final clarifying questions. He fielded a few, using the blackboard to explain a few of the concepts that were tripping them up and to show his work. It cracked me up that, every time he stopped writing, he would look nervously at his desk. But I don't think anyone noticed except me.
Once all the follow-up questions were out of the way, it was time to administer the quiz. Every teacher has their own way of doing certain things. In Algebra, instead of passing out a sheet of math problems, Mr. Nickson would write them on the board, one at a time. You only have a few minutes to figure out the answer before he erases it and moves on to the next one.
Algebra had been a struggle for me so far. But, for once, I didn't care that I had bombed the quiz. I'm going to blame this particular result on the unusual circumstances. I couldn't stop thinking about Lucy the whole time. She had never taken an Algebra lesson in her life and was forced to take the whole quiz while hiding under the teacher's desk without any clothes on. She had to be doing much worse than I.
Usually, at the end, Mr. Nickson would have the students stand up and set their completed tests on a pile on his desk so he could grade them later. I smirked when, today, he insisted on walking around the room, collecting them himself. He was still extremely worried somebody was going to discover his salacious secret.
Keeping her undetected throughout first period was taking a toll on him. His shoulders were tense, and he looked more stressed than I had ever seen him. When the bell finally rang announcing the end of class, he practically shepherded us out of the room.
Closing the door behind us, he breathed a huge sigh of relief. Every teacher has one free period to grade papers or work on their lesson plans. Since he happened to have his second period free, it gave him some breathing room to properly deal with the stressful situation under his desk.
Still needing to lock his door, he reached for his keys only to realize they were still sitting on his desk. Crossing the room, he picked them up, along with his jacket.
Pulling out the chair and holding out the jacket he said, "All right, it's over," reassuring himself more than her, "everyone's gone. Will you please take this now?"
"Well, I kinda need your help with one more thing," she replied.
He crossed his arms and gave her an unamused look. "What now?!"
With a hopeful voice, she explained. "I took your quiz...because, the captains...they said I have to show it to them, signed and graded, as proof that I really was in your class today. Could you, maybe, grade it for me real quick?"
He gave a stressful sigh. But it was not that unreasonable a request. He had the next period free and was planning to grade everyone's tests anyway. What's one more? When he reluctantly nodded his head, Lucy flashed him her biggest smile of gratitude. While she extracted herself, he crossed the room and, to his great relief, finally got his door locked. But he turned around to unexpectedly find the naked girl sitting on his desk!
"What are you doing?" he asked, more of an exclamation than an inquiry.
Lucy scooted to the middle of the desk, settling in right on top of the stack of papers, then laid down on her back. The splayed position revealed that her entire torso was covered in black ink.
"I'm turning in my test!"
It had been four days since the start of my sister's latest dare. As far as I could tell, she was no closer to completing the difficult assignment now than on day one. I was done messing around and expected today's task would send her a clear message that I was growing impatient with her lack of progress.
No longer content to just motivate her, for the first time, I incorporated a proper punishment as well. I wanted the consequences of her failure to reverberate into the coming weekend; long after her naked task had finished.
Lucy was already awake when I knocked on her door before dawn. She had been pacing - a sign that her day's assignment weighed heavily on her. I wasn't surprised when she tried one last time to negotiate an alternative. But I wouldn't hear of it. I was just there to pick out her Friday outfit.
Unlike previous tasks which had come later in the day, this one had to occur during first period. Driving her to school in the outfit I had chosen despite her protests, I dropped her off, bright and early, right at the main entrance. She was not happy at all about the outfit, but I thought it was rather cute.
Stepping out of the car, she hugged her chest even more tightly than usual due to the plain, white dress shirt she was wearing. The indecently thin blouse was meant to be worn with multiple other layers of fabric, never alone. But that's all she was allowed up top. Clearly seeing see her bare shoulder blades and spine through the thin material made it obvious to anyone looking at her from behind that she didn't have a bra on. She would have to be extra careful today if she didn't want any boy to see her growing boobs and pink nipples through the equally thin front.
We were so early that most of the teachers hadn't even arrived yet. That gave her enough time to get ready for her task and gave me a chance to run and grab breakfast before arriving at a more normal time.
Before driving off, I watched her walk up the main stairs toward the bank of front doors. With both her arms needed to protect her chest, she couldn't spare a hand to hold down her uncomfortably short, plaid schoolgirl skirt. Even being extra careful not to bounce too much between steps, I saw way too much of her impressive, bare bottom and girly secrets when the playful pleats flew up a little too high. She would have to be strategic about climbing the stairs all day if she was going to avoid flashing her classmates.
Speaking of stairs, her task required her to start at a particular stairwell in the Math hallway. She didn't know my Algebra teacher, but I had told her the class number and explained that there was a stairwell right across the hall from his room.
Always studious, Mr. Nickson had already arrived and was getting ready for his day. He followed the exact same schedule every week. Monday was a review of the previous week while, Tuesday through Thursday was for learning new material. There was always a quiz on Friday. Lucy walked past his room once to make sure he was in there and alone before heading to the stairwell. She was more jittery than usual, and for good reason. This would be the most dangerous task of her dare so far. And to pull it off would require her to play her part to perfection.
She tried to calm her nerves with a deep breath, but it didn't work. I won't spoil it by telling you why, but her dread of today's task was especially strong. Working quickly, she tucked into the alcove beneath the bottom stairs and started taking her clothes off. Her skirt and blouse didn't take long. Wadding them up, she stuffed them into her backpack. The loss of covering made her shiver.
She looked exceptionally sexy, dressed in just her black dress shoes and white, knee-high stockings. A beautiful, blonde, schoolgirl walking through the halls of her junior high like that could have made some lucky boy's wildest fantasies come true! It's a shame that, unlike her previous tasks, today's would require her to also remove her shoes and socks.
She had trouble undoing the buckles on her Mary-Jane's because of her trembling hands. You would think, having stripped in this same school three days in a row, she wouldn't be so nervous. But it wasn't just the nudity that was bothering her today. Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. Feeling time slipping away, she gave up on the buckles and just squeezed her feet out between the straps before peeling her stockings off her shapely calves and to the ground.
Having removed every last scrap of covering from her body, she tucked her backpack out of sight as far back into the alcove as it would go. She had to hope no one would notice it and that it would still be there when her task was done. Otherwise, she would be forced to run all the way across the school to retrieve an extra set of clothes from the locker room.
Turning her back on her backpack before she could change her mind and chicken out, she padded over and peeked through the door out into the hall. It was empty, but she couldn't say for how much longer. She could see Mr. Nickson's open door just across from her but found leaving her clothes behind difficult.
She found even lifting her foot a strain as her body fought her. But knowing students were already arriving to start their day and the halls would be filling soon, she couldn't afford to stall. With a burst of adrenaline, she whipped open the door and shoved her own body out into the hall. Exposed and extremely vulnerable now, every instinct was telling her to turn around and retrieve her clothes.
But, driven forward by something even more powerful - her dare - she took one step after another until she reached the midway point of the hall. It was like a point of no return. As soon as she crossed it, something shifted inside her and she felt drawn to his doorway.
She used the remaining steps to mentally go over what she had to do next. Her job was to be convincing enough for Mr. Nickson to think her a damsel in distress and assist her in her time of need. I had assured her that, once he heard her story, he would take pity on her and come to her aid. But I wasn't the one who had to put on a nude performance.
Her last thought, as she burst through his open door, was how stupid of her it was not to check again and make sure there were no students inside. But fortune was on her side this time, and it was just him.
Entering the room, she spotted him and ran up. "Please, sir, you have to help me!" she exclaimed between panicked breaths.
She didn't have to feign being embarrassed. And covering herself with her hands helped to sell the image of a girl in deep distress over her missing clothes. Her wild eyes and embarrassed pose probably did a serviceable job selling him on her predicament. But let's be honest. Her bare body did most of the heavy lifting.
As expected, Mr. Nickson took one look at her and kicked into chivalry mode, "It's going to be ok. Of course I'll help you! Just tell me what happened."
"I can't tell you," she replied, eyeing the doorway, "I don't want them to get in trouble."
At the mention of a "them", he rushed to his door and looked up and down the hallway. Perhaps he was hoping to catch someone in the act, or at least figure out who had taken this poor girl's clothes. Seeing nobody out there, he pulled the door closed and reached for his keys to lock it behind him. But they were on his desk. Heading over to retrieve them, he asked Lucy the obvious question.
"Don't want who to get in trouble?"
'Y-you promise you won't tell anybody?" she asked nervously, still doing her best to strategically cover her most private parts.
"I can't promise that," he replied diplomatically, "but I can only help you if you tell me what's going on."
Doing the honorable thing, he shed his jacket, intending to give her something to cover herself at least temporarily while he sorted this out. I told Lucy to expect this move and she was prepared for it. Squealing, she recoiled in fear and backed away from the jacket like it was on fire.
Dropping the jacket on his desk and showing her his open palms, he said, "woah, it's ok. Why don't you start by telling me your name and what grade you're in."
Still eyeing the jacket warily, she answered, "Lucy-seventh".
"Ok, Lucy," he ventured, "are you hurt?"
With a sniffle, she shook her head. Her breathing was starting to normalize, but her heart was still pounding. There was no apparent reason why she would refuse an offer of clothes, but she continued to look very concerned about that jacket. She bore no marks on her body, no sign of injury, although she did have an understandable blush on her face.
Since her distress appeared to be more emotional than physical, and since she refused to take the covering he had offered, he didn't know what else to do except continue his line of questioning, "Can you tell me how you got here? Who did this to you?"
She thought for a moment, before admitting, "it was the cheer team,” quickly adding, "but you can't tell anybody I told you!"
He hadn't expected that answer. "The cheer team? Are you sure?" he asked.
Lucy nodded a confirmation before giving him the explanation I had crafted for her, "uh-huh, they called it 'hazing', I think. Everyone does it if they want to be on the team. All I have to do is spend one period hiding inside a class full of students n-n-naked."
Mr. Nickson nodded slowly as the picture started to come into focus.
Still in 'save the day' mode, he tried to help. "Don't worry, Miss Lucy, you don't have to do this. Whoever is doing this to you has overstepped their authority. I believe Miss Easterling is in charge of the cheer program. Once she hears, I'm sure she will put a stop to all this hazing talk."
He assumed his words would be received as a comfort to her. But when he reached for the jacket again to cover her nudity, Lucy cried out, "NO!". Wincing, as if she were in pain, she said, "I can't take that. They'll kick me off the team if they find out I put anything on. And if you tell Coach, they'll all know that I told on them! You-you can't!"
Her sparkling eyes grew heavy with tears, and she sniffled. A few even started rolling down her cheeks. I have to give her credit for that one. I'm pretty sure it's not possible to look more like a vulnerable, damsel in distress than a naked, crying girl.
Mr. Nickson didn't know what to do. He couldn't get this girl to put anything on. And the longer she stood there, the greater his own risk became.
"ok, ok, settle down," he said, softening his approach even as his voice grew more strained. Knowing better than to go for the jacket again, he stretched out his hand to give her a reassuring pat. But finding no appropriate place to pat her that wasn't dangerously close to naked, female flesh, he settled for the very top of her head.
"Look, I want to help you. I really do! But...surely, you understand I can't let you stay here and do what you're asking, hazing or no. You can't just hide out in a classroom for an entire period without being seen. It's impossible."
Lucy took that as an opportunity to prove him wrong. After making a cursory scan of the room, her eyes landed on his oversized desk, which I had already told her about. Because it was in the front corner of the classroom and went all the way to the floor, it would be the perfect hiding spot for a naked student.
Without waiting for permission, she rounded the desk and pulled out his chair. Crawling into the vacated space, she curled herself up into a ball to show how hidden she could be. When he came around to look, he saw her fresh face and bright blue eyes peering out at him from the shadows like some Dickensian peasant girl.
Then she switched into little sister mode. Clasping her hands and batting her long eyelashes, she begged in her sweetest voice, "just let me stay down here. I'll be quiet. I promise no one will ever know and I'll be gone as soon as class is over! Can't you help me just this once? Pleeeease?"
Mr. Nickson wavered. He was torn between honoring the sole request of a damsel in distress and the extreme personal risk that harboring a naked girl in his classroom represented. It stressed him out to have such a risky arrangement foisted upon him.
With Lucy entrenched under his desk where he couldn't reach her, he chickened out and said, "I'm calling Miss Easterling."
He took a step toward the administrative phone on the wall as Lucy opened her mouth to form a protest, crawling partly out from under the desk to stop him. But they were both interrupted by the sound of the door handle rattling.
"Mr. Nickson, are you in here?" a tentative new voice called out. It was the first student arriving for class!
Lucy and Mr. Nickson both jumped out of their skin, but for different reasons. As the door swung open, Lucy dove back into her hiding spot before the face that appeared in the gap could see her. Mr. Nickson kicked himself for forgetting to follow through with locking the door. More students, who had apparently been waiting in the hall, immediately trickled in behind the first. Seeing that it was too late now to call in reinforcements, his focus became making sure none of them found the naked stowaway. Stumbling over, both, his feet, and his words, he scrambled to greet the students in a casual fashion and to put some distance between himself and his desk.
He transformed into a stressed-out goalie. Shuffling back and forth, he intercepted any student who, on the way to their seat, looked like they might be heading too close to the front of the classroom, and gently sent them on a detoured route.
Lucy used the distraction to reach up and slide his top desk drawer open, no more than an inch, and blindly feel around for a writing utensil. Having successfully inserted herself completely naked into a quickly filling classroom, it was time to begin the next phase of her treacherous trial. I figured, since she would be stuck under there for the whole class, she would enjoy having something to work on. When I told her my intention, she was not happy about it. But I insisted. Locating a pen, she silently slid the drawer shut and settled back into her spot.
Eager to see if she had pulled the first phase off, I was tempted, as I entered the Math hallway, to stop in and check the stairwell. I should be able to find her backpack tucked under the stairs with all her clothes inside. But if someone caught me snooping around back there, they could grow suspicious why I was holding a girl's backpack full of clothes and the entire undertaking could be ruined. So, I stayed away.
I didn't have to wonder long, though. Entering the classroom and seeing how strange Mr. Nickson was acting told me everything I needed to know. The way he kept a safe distance while also regularly glancing over at his desk made it easy to guess where the naked student was hiding out. After the first period bell rang, we all stood for the pledge of allegiance. I almost laughed out loud when I pictured her trying to hold her hand dutifully to her breast and silently mouthing along with the other students.
It was hard to resist the urge to check on her. I could have come up with some excuse to make my way to the front of the class and peek under the teacher's desk. But Mr. Nickson remained vigilant and would almost certainly intercept me before I got close enough to see my sister. So, I had to settle for using my imagination.
I wondered what a nerve-wracking experience it had to be, stuck completely naked, with her clothes across the hall, and surrounded by a class full of oblivious students. And more, any second, someone might notice her, and all Hell would break loose!
Mr. Nickson did his best to project normalcy. We had studied the same unit all week in preparation for the Friday quiz he had prepared. But first, per his routine, students were allowed to ask him any final clarifying questions. He fielded a few, using the blackboard to explain a few of the concepts that were tripping them up and to show his work. It cracked me up that, every time he stopped writing, he would look nervously at his desk. But I don't think anyone noticed except me.
Once all the follow-up questions were out of the way, it was time to administer the quiz. Every teacher has their own way of doing certain things. In Algebra, instead of passing out a sheet of math problems, Mr. Nickson would write them on the board, one at a time. You only have a few minutes to figure out the answer before he erases it and moves on to the next one.
Algebra had been a struggle for me so far. But, for once, I didn't care that I had bombed the quiz. I'm going to blame this particular result on the unusual circumstances. I couldn't stop thinking about Lucy the whole time. She had never taken an Algebra lesson in her life and was forced to take the whole quiz while hiding under the teacher's desk without any clothes on. She had to be doing much worse than I.
Usually, at the end, Mr. Nickson would have the students stand up and set their completed tests on a pile on his desk so he could grade them later. I smirked when, today, he insisted on walking around the room, collecting them himself. He was still extremely worried somebody was going to discover his salacious secret.
Keeping her undetected throughout first period was taking a toll on him. His shoulders were tense, and he looked more stressed than I had ever seen him. When the bell finally rang announcing the end of class, he practically shepherded us out of the room.
Closing the door behind us, he breathed a huge sigh of relief. Every teacher has one free period to grade papers or work on their lesson plans. Since he happened to have his second period free, it gave him some breathing room to properly deal with the stressful situation under his desk.
Still needing to lock his door, he reached for his keys only to realize they were still sitting on his desk. Crossing the room, he picked them up, along with his jacket.
Pulling out the chair and holding out the jacket he said, "All right, it's over," reassuring himself more than her, "everyone's gone. Will you please take this now?"
"Well, I kinda need your help with one more thing," she replied.
He crossed his arms and gave her an unamused look. "What now?!"
With a hopeful voice, she explained. "I took your quiz...because, the captains...they said I have to show it to them, signed and graded, as proof that I really was in your class today. Could you, maybe, grade it for me real quick?"
He gave a stressful sigh. But it was not that unreasonable a request. He had the next period free and was planning to grade everyone's tests anyway. What's one more? When he reluctantly nodded his head, Lucy flashed him her biggest smile of gratitude. While she extracted herself, he crossed the room and, to his great relief, finally got his door locked. But he turned around to unexpectedly find the naked girl sitting on his desk!
"What are you doing?" he asked, more of an exclamation than an inquiry.
Lucy scooted to the middle of the desk, settling in right on top of the stack of papers, then laid down on her back. The splayed position revealed that her entire torso was covered in black ink.
"I'm turning in my test!"
Last edited by neverdoubted on Mon Mar 04, 2024 6:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Dare Me (new 2/29)
Thanks for the update.
I didn't expect Lucy to use her body as a test paper--an neither did the white knight in the story. Well written! In a week or two I'll see what happens next.
I didn't expect Lucy to use her body as a test paper--an neither did the white knight in the story. Well written! In a week or two I'll see what happens next.
- perseus
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Re: Dare Me (new 2/29)
Another great chapter! Mr. Nickson must have gotten the shock of his professional career seeing Lucy sitting on his desk. What I'm looking forward to seeing is if Lucy only used her torso for the test, or if she was forced to go lower than she would have wanted . Can't wait for the next chapter!
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Re: Dare Me (new 2/29)
Evil Mikey...lol. very lucky Mr. Nickson. Wowza!! Can't wait to see how this situation works out for Lucy.
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Re: Dare Me (new 2/29)
Oh, that's incredibly erotic! I love how believable it is. I can't really think why that couldn't happen in real life! Looking forward to more!
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