Climbing the Shamelessness Ladder Pt. 03

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Julian drives us to his friend's house. It is still light, but only for another hour. We are early, because we want to touch base with the hosts. Of course, they agreed to whatever we had in mind, but it is good to meet first and get to know each other and talk details.

They're pretty nice guys. Naturally they look me over as if they want to undress me. That is fine, of course, and what I want, but I haven't had four pairs of eyes on me before in such a shameless way. Only Julian's best friend at highschool remembers me. As he should. I don't probe. He may see me as the ugly duckling come good. The other three don't remember me. I remember them. Doesn't matter. They seem to find me attractive right now and that's what counts.

Julian takes control and discusses the details of what we are going to do. I am nervous, of course I am nervous, but it is the nervousness of an actor who doesn't want to mess up his lines and moves. Not that I have any lines. I will not speak until I am naked and inspected. Wow! I am going to be naked and inspected! It is getting to be real! I put on the mask. On the one hand, I regret that we have decided on that barrier. On the other, it adds to the mystery.

Until we start the performance, I am a dressed guest. We women are a minority. Heather Jones finds me and recognises me, with just a second's delay to see past my mask. I am glad to have someone to talk to, but at the same time I am most afraid of my gender judging me, especially a classmate. I know she is a sport, but still! I do manage to forget what tonight's main item on the agenda is, after we get stuck in our conversation. She is an eccentric dresser, by choice, and her jumpsuit seems to agree with my dress. The difference is: she will leave with it intact. Anyway, we talk about clothes and our classmates and the bands and TV-series we like. The usual stuff, but we have a lot of fun and gravitate closer to a real friendship. Of course, she asks me after the mask. I say I can't tell her yet. She wags her finger and says, 'Ah, playing hard to get. I like that. I like to play.'

When Julian comes up to me, I wake up to the reality I engineered myself. Still, my heart suddenly explodes in my chest. Well, almost. A burst of fear, mixed in with joy -- it's happening! Jules makes a real speech, which strikes me as a bit pompous. I don't know. Perhaps it needs to be like that. Maybe it heightens the excitement. Pompous speech, obscene naked girl. Everyone hoots, cheers and claps at the prospect of seeing me naked. Lots of people will soon see me naked!

Then Julian offers up the scissors. Who will be the first to take them? Time stands still. Then someone says, 'I will make the first cut!' A woman. Heather! Heather of all people. I had expected anyone but her. But I realise she is a cheek. OK, let it be a friend that opens the game. A moment of comfort. But then she suggests I stand on the coffee table. Like on a stage. How can I disobey? I want to be seen! But that is not the end of it, she orders me to go down on all fours, like a dog! The embarrassment cannot be greater. The image of me as a dog, sex open between my legs, flashes by. Oh, God! I cringe and have to work on relaxing again. I comply with Heather's order and find myself on the coffee table like a dog.

She starts at my ass, snipping off a piece of the dress. Then shouts, 'Who's next?' Other cutters -- I can't see all and keep track -- target the pantihose and panties and in a few cuts my cunt is bared. I feel the small drafts of air. I am embarrassed as hell, but try not to show it. I try to withdraw, get into the zone... Be an object. Not move one bit. Throughout, I have to keep trying. I experience flashes of embarrassment. When they move to my tits, when the final cuts make my dress drop off my body, when they touch me at the erogenous areas, my butt and tits, my flanks, my thighs -- my whole body is an erogenous zone! I realise I am getting excited! Will they notice? The pantihose - I register that they don't start with the waistband. (They don't want to be quick? That of my panties went early.) The pantihose is shredded at some point and the remnants of my pink panties removed. Bra, three of four snips and, there, I am naked -- no, dressed in red bootties -- and displayed like a dog. I am aware of the people standing around me, the bigger half at my rear end - so predictable! My sex is on good view. I see some stooping, so as to look at my tits. And a few at my face, half-obscured by the mask. Are these viewers the more sensitive ones, the psychologists, keen to gage my thoughts and emotions? Or are they the sensationalists, keen to stare me into the ground? I am embarrassed, but I aim not to show it.

Julian ends this act of the play. He sweeps the rags that were once my clothes away. Then he does something unexpected that almost makes me cry! He embraces me, his naked, obscene sister. I have to force the tears back.

He helps me leave the doggy position and stand up. I realise I am proud, not embarrassed at all. I stand tall, relaxed, feet apart, and raise my arms high, as in triumph. I smile broadly. Julian talks about how great I look. My joy is briefly dented when he mentions the moisture between my legs. Is that for a brother to highlight? Should he rather not be modest and ignore me being wet? Lord, no! I love him and he loves me. It is fine if he sees that I am a sexual being, and it is fine for all to see. He has stronger rights than any other Jack or Jill!

Julian now invites the audience to inspect me. And he explicitly invites them to smell me! And they will smell me. Louise and Robert all over again, by the dozens! I no longer feel embarrassment when gal after guy inspects me. That they sniff me up is harder. I do feel powerful, though. I sense the embarrassment of some of the others. Whether a virgin or not, not many, if anyone, will have done this to a girl. They may have looked at their friend or girlfriend, they may well have seen a cunt up close, although I doubt that it is on the menu of the average relationship. Robert, for example, hadn't. Neither had Julian.

Heather is one of the first. Boy, she is keen! From her side, I don't feel any embarrassment at all. I have to talk to her about her sexual experience. Both of us, we are beyond embarrassment now, aren't we? Not embarrassed, but I am moved! By all the attention and by the light accidental touches. The audience is not supposed to touch me, but I like the accidental touching, as it proves this is not a dream. They really are accidental, I am sure, but they turn me on. Julian, I had not expected him to inspect me himself and indeed he didn't. Of course, he is not shy and has not had any difficulty looking at me, at home or now. But I appreciate he draws the line somewhere safe.

How much time has passed by the time the audience had their fill? I have no way to tell... It has to be at least 30 mins. Could be an hour. It doesn't matter. The party is still going and I am free to move now, mingle, talk, dance... Of course, it is Heather that helps me step off the table and leads me to a couch, where we sit down. 'You were so beautiful!' She confesses she thought about joining me. But didn't, partly because she didn't dare, partly because she didn't want to upstage me. 'As if that were possible!' We laugh. I feel elated after what has gone down so far. And tired! But in the nicest possible way. And she asks whether we can be friends from now on. 'We can be naked together and play whatever game we want. But that is for later.' 'Yes, we can be friends. Now, I am exhausted and just want to sit quietly. I can't think of what we could do in the future, but I'd like it if you now sit with me.'

I just keep sitting here for Lord knows how long. I talk a little with Heather, nothing substantial. She moves on at some point, but not without a peck on my cheek. I am not left alone for long. In fact, a procession of guys and gals sit next to me. Some don't speak at all -- strange, in retrospect, but at the time I didn't think about it -, some ask me a few polite questions and I answer politely. It is all like in a dream. A jerk or two ask me to go upstairs with them. I look them in the eye for a second and then ignore them. Maybe they were kidding, maybe drunk, maybe both, but they move on without complaining. Throughout, all the time I am aware of people looking at me from all angles and distances. That is fine. Again, I am not feeling a lot at the moment. However, I warm up again after a while, when the music has been turned louder and people are dancing. People must have registered my awakening, because it doesn't take long before someone asks me to dance. I look up and see it is one of the hosts, a nice guy. I smile, take his hand and get up. The song, like most songs played, is a quick song, so no need to be close. From the first moment, I dance as livelily as I would in dressed state at any good party. I keep dancing song after song. I am popular, I find. Of course, I notice people looking at me and at my chest, where my tits do jiggle and bounce with minds of their own. I don't mind. When suddenly a slow, but funky song starts (Marvin Gaye's 'Let's get it on' - it turns out to be some extended version that never seems to end), there is a bit of a scram to dance with me. But it is Heather who pushes the guy that is on the winning hand away and claims me. Fine by me, though any nice guy would have done very well. Everybody has stopped dancing and watches us as we shuffle around, face to face, chest to chest, her hands on my butt, mine in the small of her back. My eyes are closed. We are intimate, no doubt. I am sure I am as wet as can be, perhaps dripping wet.

After another quick dance or two, I signal to Jules that I want to go. Our hosts are beside themselves when we take our leave. 'Unforgettable! Unforgettable! You went down a storm! Come back anytime.' They all hug me and kiss me on the cheek. Jules and I drive back. I haven't thought of clothes for the return journey, but, hell, who cares?

We sit down at the kitchen table for a glass of water before we will head off to bed. Julian says, 'The hosts were right, tonight was unforgettable. You must be so tired. I know I am and I was only the master of ceremonies.' 'You are right. I can hardly keep my eyes open or speak. But thank you, Jules! I could not have done it without you.' Just when we are about to get up and go to bed, Ben barges in. Naked, for Pete's sake! Under our eyes, he develops an erection too and hastens to hide it! I say, 'Ben... It's OK. It's natural. Just let it be.' It turns out that he suspected I was going to be naked at the party and was thoroughly excited, even played with himself to that tune. I look at Jules, but he says, 'I didn't tell him.' 'It was inevitable that you would go for it, Jo. How was it?' And Jules and I provide a summary of what happened, low on graphic detail, however. I explain that it made me feel good about myself, that I felt the power I had.

'Yeah, it was embarrassing at first, but I felt safe and appreciated. I know, people must have had all kinds of lewd thoughts about me too, but that is OK. They behaved themselves.'

Ben says, 'Good for you. Just imagine that a guy, for example me, had done the same. My erection would have killed me, in my mind at least, and I would not have been quite such a hit.'

'You may be right. It is different for girls. However, if it had been a party dominated by girls? I don't know. An erection is a bit intrusive, but who knows? But, do you want to copy me?'

'I don't think so. At home maybe sometime?'

'Feel free, Ben. But now, let's go to our beds.'

We all hug and go upstairs to our rooms, I leading the way to present some last-minute viewing pleasure for the boys. I expect heavy dreaming all around.

JOANNA'S NEXT STEP

A giant step when I exposed myself to my friends Louise and Robert, after which I wanted strangers and bigger numbers to see me. A further giant step, but in a different direction, when I exposed myself to my mum first and, after passing that hurdle, to my entire family, getting permission to be naked at home henceforth. And finally, for now, exposing myself to a party full of strangers and offering myself up for detailed inspection by anyone that wanted. And they all wanted to inspect me.

So, what is next? Expose myself to a crowd of strangers, with and without chaperone (Julian, Heather, Louise), with or without safety net, inside, e.g. in a theatre, or outside, in urban or natural circumstances? I have to think. Also, when? College days will allow me more freedom and less safety. Some months to wait before that phase starts, though...

Dear readers, give me some ideas what I can do before then, and indeed for when I do make it to college...

END of Part 3