neverdoubted wrote: ↑Fri Nov 25, 2022 2:37 pm
These unexpected added chapters are providing integral and necessary plot progression. The swimsuit saga is going to be a culmination or result.
Glad to hear it - I've been looking forward to the swimsuit chapter ever since it won the vote for 'next chapter'! I'm personally hoping it will be a chapter where her dare will finally result in her having to expose herself to some of her classmates, but I'm sure it will be good whatever direction you decide to take things.
Love this story!! I see an upcoming chapter is severance. Maybe Lucy will have to be naked at home all the time to save on laundry, with many visitors.....She might even have to do chores for neighbors to make money for the family as a nudist.... Anyway keep up the good work!!
jimmythehand wrote: ↑Sun Nov 27, 2022 3:09 am
I'm personally hoping it will be a chapter where her dare will finally result in her having to expose herself to some of her classmates
jojo12026 wrote: ↑Sun Nov 27, 2022 6:15 am
Love this story!! I see an upcoming chapter is severance. Maybe Lucy will have to be naked at home all the time to save on laundry, with many visitors.....She might even have to do chores for neighbors to make money for the family as a nudist.... Anyway keep up the good work!!
All good predictions! But in this case, it really is referring to a severance package. Like the kind you get when you lose your job...
I just want to throw in my two cents here that this is one of the freshest and most entertaining stories I've seen on here in a while. I look forward to all the following chapters and can't wait to see where it goes.
"Dare me, Mikey! Please, Dare me. Dare me NOW!" my annoying little sister stomped her foot impatiently.
I did my best to ignore her relentless badgering and keep my focus on the TV. I shouldn't complain. I mean, it's not like Saved by the Bell reruns could possibly compete with a smoking hot girl willing, no begging, to be stripped naked and perform whatever task you could dream up. Still, her timing could be more convenient.
At the commercial break, I allowed her unintentionally adorable tantrum to draw my attention. The familiar look on her face had returned. It always did. It had been nearly a month since her last dare request. Although, to call it a request was a stretch. She did technically say "please", but her forceful insistence always made it feel more like a demand than a plea.
Her whole body was tensed, and her brow was furrowed with the cutest little wrinkle down the middle. 12 was much too young to start developing worry lines. I had to help. But why did everything have to be done on her schedule?
Speaking of schedule, I had been anticipating this day, wondering when her itch would return ever since the last one. I even tried to predict it. About a month ago, she had come to me out of the blue after a rather lengthy hiatus and woken me up several nights in a row. It was rough sailing for a while there, but after some creative adjustments, she had gotten her fill of whatever need kept driving her to ask me for help.
Now, after a long winter of no dares, two dare requests spaced a month apart might be a sign, but two data points was not yet enough to form a trend line. If it happened again next month, I would know I was onto something.
When she saw she had gotten my attention, she paused her fit and her eyes perked up hopefully. I had attempted prepare for this moment. And I hated to let her down, but if you haven't guessed by now, I'm not very good at coming up with dares. It wasn't all my fault, though. She wasn't exactly giving me much to work with.
I did, however, have some new tools at my disposal: heat, pressure, and time. I had quite effectively wielded time to my advantage last go around. And I saw first-hand which aspects of the last dare had prompted the greatest heat reaction in her body. So, even though my attempts at brainstorming sessions weren't exactly productive, I had reason to feel pretty confident in my ability. My first planned gambit was to introduce something unexpected. Some new requirements to make sure she stayed on edge and off balance for the duration of the dare.
"I don't know, Goosey," I started, "I can never tell how serious you are when you say that. Sometimes I feel like you're just messing with me...to make me feel foolish. It's not some childish game anymore."
It was an absurd claim. Not once in her life, that I can recall, had Lucy ever turned down a dare she asked for. And she had never failed to honor a dare once accepted. How could I even accuse her of that with a straight face? But she took the claim with grave seriousness.
"Oh, I swear, Mikey, I would never do that to you. Give me a chance. I'll show you. How can I show you?" she asked.
She held her breath as I pondered her offering. I had already planned to try this out, but I pretended like it was just coming to me in the moment. Satisfied that enough time had passed, I spoke.
"Ok, fine. But if I'm going to do this, I want a new rule." I could practically see her get out a mental pen and paper; determined to follow this new rule to the last jot. "From now on, to show me you are really serious. No matter how long it takes, from the time you utter the words 'dare me' until I say your dare is complete, you are not allowed to play with yourself - at all."
A blush formed on her cheeks. Heat, the first ingredient. At the mention of touching herself, I could virtually see her little diamond factory lurching back to life after a month reprieve. Even though there was no pressure yet, heat and time were already working their cumulative magic. Uncertainty of timing was an especially powerful tool in my arsenal. So, I played that card next.
"Keep in mind, a dare could last a couple hours, up to days, or even weeks. There will be no telling up front. But if you break the rule, or back out of the dare, you will never receive another one from me...ever." I said emphatically.
She gulped, clearly horrified at the possibility, but held her ground. Now to throw down the gauntlet.
"Now, go somewhere - to your room or outside. I want you to take some time to really think about it and decide if you want to commit to this or not. If so, then you can come back in here and ask me again."
I closed my mouth expecting for her to leave, but she didn't move. She just stood there and thought for about 10 seconds. "I don't need any more time to think about it," she said, "I'm ready now." then she uttered those two fateful words.
"Dare me"
If she thought she was going to shock me into action, she sorely misjudged. Having accepted the new rule, time was decidedly on my side. For me, the pressure was off. I could work at my own leisurely pace, making her dare play out over days, if necessary. She had no choice but to play along. The heat inside her would keep building and her only relief would come at the end.
Having no incentive to rush, I casually turned off the TV with the remote and leaned back on the couch. Then, to see if a dare opportunity might present itself, I asked her how school was going. After all, school had always delivered in the past.
It was late April, and her elementary school academic career was winding down. I remembered how sixth graders tended to get a miniature form of senioritis after spring break. And once standardized tests were over, the teachers kind of coasted as well.
She said her classes were getting boring and she was still trying to come up with an entry for the year-end drawing contest, but was struggling with inspiration. She also still enjoyed run club. I asked her if they ever found out who put that graffiti on Mr. Clark's window. The graffiti had been 10 black tick marks drawn by her own hand and representing her ten failed orgasm attempts at his classroom window. The mere mention of it prompted another blush from her.
I asked her what they were studying in good old Mr. Clark's class. She was working on her big end-of-the-year project. Every year, the sixth graders studied the Roman Empire for a whole semester. Then each student was supposed to give a more in-depth presentation on something that had piqued their interest. The top presentation from among the entire sixth grade won a prize. Presentations had already started, but the last day to present was coming up quickly. The heavy hitters usually came up to bat on the last day.
I remembered doing it last year. My presentation had been on the Punic wars. Did you know the Punics and the Phoenicians were actually the same people? The Romans had better armies, but the Punics were superior on the water. Anyway, I felt it was a pretty good presentation, but I didn't win. The winner was always someone who showed up in a full costume, dressed like a real Roman. I couldn't afford something like that, so I never had a chance.
Reminiscing about my time in his class, I remembered watching a slide show one day about how Roman society was divided into many social classes: from the wealthiest members of the senate to various tiers of landowners. Even the lowliest commoners, the plebians, were still considered Roman citizens and enjoyed the privileges of citizenship. The soldiers had looked so badass, and the boys all snickered when a woman appeared on the projector wearing a toga with one boob hanging out...wait a minute!
The picture sparked an idea. What if I dared Lucy to give her history presentation dressed like the woman in that picture? Her whole class would get to learn exactly what her naked boob looked like! While I didn't have access to that presentation, I excitedly made her go get her history book in the hopes it would provide further inspiration.
While she retrieved it, another thought struck me. Last year, I hadn't won because I didn't have a costume. But Lucy had access to an expert costume designer just down the street, Mr. Beski! Sure, he was a little past his prime. But he could pump out a top-notch toga, or something. Then I could make Lucy wear it while giving her presentation! I just had to find a revealing example to give him for a pattern.
While I flipped through the pages looking for just the right thing, I told her the gist of my plan. I got to the section that talked about how, in Roman society, each class of citizen had a different style of dress which set them apart. I slowed down and studied every picture. Surely there had to be something in there I could give to Mr. Beski as a template. Who knows? If she showed up with her boob hanging out, that alone might get her enough votes to win the contest!
She sat beside me nervously watching over my shoulder as I perused the pages. I passed on famous paintings of centurions and Caesars, until...there! It was a statue of a standing woman with a very loose toga, or “stola” as the caption read, nearly falling off her. It was quite impressive how the artist was able to sculpt a block of stone to look like bunched up cloth. But most importantly, her breasts were bare. It was exactly what I had envisioned and would have made for a humiliating presentation. If it was designed just right, I could picture her having to fight with her stola the whole time to keep it from slipping and flashing something it shouldn't.
Lucy saw what I was staring at and must have imagined the same scenario because her eyes bulged in fear. Before I could stop her, she darted her hand out and quickly turned the page - as if I was going to let her have a vote, hah! But her impulsive act ended up being a fateful turn because that next page gave me a much better idea!
The next page was all about the lowest classes of Roman society, many who weren't even considered citizens, indentured servants, and slaves. Roman slaves mostly came from defeated groups of peoples who had been conquered from various military campaigns and brought back to serve the empire. Most unexpectedly the page contained a salacious painting with a caption that read "Captives in Rome - Charles Bartlett". It was a relatively contemporary painting, but meant to depict life for an ancient, conquered slave. The slaves in the painting were completely naked or wore little more than loincloths. I couldn't believe they allowed something like that in a public-school textbook, but maybe it got a pass because it was considered art enrichment.
Lucy blanched and jumped up. She backed away from me saying "no, no, no" knowing she had made a terrible mistake by turning that page. But I had already made up my mind and her fate was sealed. Only formality remained. I stood with a wicked smile and formally dared her to make her history project presentation be all about slavery. She would ask Mr. Beski to make her a period-accurate costume and give her presentation dressed like an ancient Roman slave girl. That’s what she gets for butting in and turning the page on me!
I suggested we visit him immediately so he could get started on her costume. It was Saturday morning and the last day to give presentations was the following Friday. That only gave him six days, and he wasn't exactly known for his speed. I offered to tag along to advise. But really, I was there to keep the final design sufficiently humiliating.
She spent the whole walk over trying to convince me to let her back out of the dare or at least to change my mind about the subject matter. She argued the picture was unrealistic. Surely slaves didn’t walk around naked back then. Besides, the school would never allow it! I told her that was my problem to work out and to trust the process.
I knew I wouldn't be able to send her out there completely naked and that there would be more twists and turns before this dare was over. But I trusted my own ability to improvise. She calmed down when I assured her I would setup a meeting with Mr. Clark to get everything approved in advance. But the real motive for that meeting was so I could get a feel for how far I could push things with him. The history teacher in him would surely appreciate historical accuracy when it came to the costume. And several of the slaves in the textbook had been essentially naked. I just had to find that fine line between historical accuracy and blatant obscenity.
While she was calmer, she did keep asking probing questions in the hope of controlling or affecting my creative process. So, I had to stop and remind her this wasn't a negotiation. Her job was to memorize and present the materials and let me handle the rest. Either she should back out now or knock it off. Determined not to fail the dare, she stopped protesting and walked in silence. But a look of worry remained on her face.
Mr. Beski was overjoyed to see us at his front door. And he was equally enthusiastic about helping us. He bragged about how parts of Hungary used to be in the Roman Empire and his family's village even claimed to trace lineage from that time. I doubted he could prove to be actually descended from a Roman citizen, but who knows?
To prevent her from disrupting the planning phase with her incessant suggestions, I made Lucy take a seat in the other room while I laid out my plans to him. He immediately grasped the Roman slave concept. He seemed quite knowledgeable and had surprisingly strong opinions about it. I realized I was at a severe disadvantage as I had no real knowledge on the subject. I needed to visit the library and gather more information if I was going to sell the concept of an authentic slave girl to Mr. Clark. So, figuring alterations could always come later, I left the actual costume particulars in his skilled hands, and we took our leave. I should have predicted a Hungarian's idea of a Roman slave wouldn't look anything like the skewed American textbooks. Oh well, live and learn.
The rest of our day was spent at the library. I ordered Lucy to start outlining what her presentation would be while I did my own research. I have to tell you, there was so much interesting stuff about Roman slavery that I didn't know. They were basically treated like property or animals. But unlike American slaves from centuries later, many were given the opportunity to buy or earn their freedom. They could also win it by fighting as gladiators in the Coliseum. And once they were freed, they were granted citizenship status and enjoyed the same rights and privileges as everyone else; that is, if they behaved and didn't try to escape or anything.
I jotted down lots of good ideas that I could potentially incorporate into Lucy's presentation. I found the books and chapters on sex slavery particularly interesting. I was having a great time, but Lucy not so much. I couldn't blame her. While I was turning into a real history buff, I'm sure all she could think about was performing history in the buff!
The next day, I setup a meeting with Mr. Clark for after school Monday. I explained the situation and told him how excited Lucy had gotten about the contest and that she had even recruited a neighbor to help her with her costume. I leaned heavily into Mr. Beski's cultural heritage and Mr. Clark seemed particularly excited to hear the costume would be made by a skilled artisan of actual Roman descent.
He was also surprised to hear such enthusiasm from a female student. I knew what he meant. The girls in his class were constantly swooning over him and writing "Future Mrs. Clark" in the margins of their notebooks. But they tended to draw the line at spending their valuable time and resources on one of his assignments. His extracurricular history club was all geeky boys, the most hardcore history enthusiasts. The best presentations, and inevitable contest winners, came from that group every year. But he was eager to have a girl give them a run for their money, for once.
He was less exuberant when I brought up her desired presentation topic, slavery. He feared it was too mature a subject for sixth graders, but I was ready with many supporting arguments. I said Lucy was so passionate about it and felt strongly that it was an important story which needed to be told. How was it fair that a powerful senator or conqueror got to tell his story while a simple slave girl's authentic experience was lost to history? Besides he wasn't doing the students any favors by leaving out uncomfortable subjects.
I could tell it was working to convince him. But the hardest sell, her costume, was still pending. I said Mr. Beski hadn't completed the costume yet, but I was worried about what would happen if it didn't meet the school's dress code. I explained that, from my research, slave clothing could be rather skimpy and was not as ostentatious as a patrician, for example. I intentionally worked in that Latin word in the hopes that it would give me some legitimacy. From his impressed reaction, I like to think it helped.
I took it as a good sign when he shifted into problem solving mode with me. He was no longer my adversary, but on my team trying to figure out a way forward. He said he had autonomy to waive the dress code and had done so in the past for the sake of maintaining historical accuracy. After all, ancient Romans couldn't possibly be expected to follow the same standards of modesty as we do today! Still, he seemed hesitant to give me free reign in the matter and asked if he could see and approve the finished product ahead of time.
It wasn't an unreasonable request, but it wasn’t going to work for my plans. I explained that Mr. Beski was an elderly man and didn't work very fast. From previous experience, I didn't expect the costume to be done until the last minute. But I did offer one concession. I promised to check her textbook (something I had already done) and make sure her costume was no more revealing than whatever I found. How could he argue with that? He agreed, apparently having forgotten about that picture with essentially naked slaves in it.
With that hurdle cleared, and with the costume construction continuing apace, I turned my attention to the actual presentation script. I took the outline she had started and added my own ideas which I had gathered from the library books. Ok, I kind of got carried away with it. All that information about Roman sex slaves was making me horny and my creative juices were really flowing. And Lucy was just the perfect conduit. I just kept putting more and more embarrassing things into her script.
And I admit, while I was inspired by what I had read, I did exercise some creative license and added some embellishments to her script. Mr. Beski surprised us both when he called on Wednesday to say the costume was ready for fitting and final adjustments. A whole day early! I went to the fitting and waited patiently for the big reveal while Mr. Beski helped her into it. I couldn't stop smiling when I saw her. This was going to be fun!
When I was in high school, long time ago, the Latin teacher showed the mini-series "I Claudius"
During several episodes, the teacher stood near the tv screen with a large sheet of paper. Her plan was to cover up the naked boobs when they
showed up on screen. She was late in covering up the tv screen. It was a great series to see, and I learned a lot, such as how wicked women in
history have been.
Caesar Augustus' wife, Livia, murdered many people with poison.
There is even a sex competition between two wealthy women. Who could take the most men in one night, before quitting. Amazing mini-series.
perseus wrote: ↑Thu Dec 01, 2022 6:32 am
You are certainly applying the heat, pressure and time formula to the reader as well! The wait for the next chapter is going to be brutal!
Great work as always! This story keeps getting better and better!
Darn it, I was going to wait and see how it went over, but now I may go ahead and post the next part.
I'm personally hoping it will be a chapter where her dare will finally result in her having to expose herself to some of her classmates, but I'm sure it will be good whatever direction you decide to take things.
