Policeman’s Predicament by C. C.

Policeman’s Predicament  by C. C.

I’m a Campus Police Officer in my mid-20s, involved with a woman who… well let me tell you about it.

I knew Carol was bi when we started going out, and as we became more and more involved, she kept talking about how she loved my “feminine side.” I regularly made love to her like a woman, but she seemed to want more. To please her, I shaved the hair off my body and kept it smooth, and we started experimenting with hairstyles and makeup and feminine attire– I even dressed up like a woman sometimes for special drag-theme events, and I have to say I had little fear of being discovered because Carol had become adept in making me look feminine: She even had a doctor friend who gave me shots to temporarily swell out my chest like breasts and (for very special occasions) a wig that glued on over my male organs, confining them into a small package that looked just like a woman’s inviting nest.

Carol still saw many of her gay girlfriends, even after we moved in together. I felt just a little jealous sometimes, but she was so loving… and she confessed to me that one of the reasons she found me so exciting was what she called my “dual nature”: able to succeed in a manly job, yet with a distinct feminine side.

That may sound like I’m getting off the subject, but you have to understand how I felt when I got a tip that some pledges of the Lesba Delta Sorority were planning a skinny- dip in Mirror Lake, on the edge of the Campus one June night. “Lesba Delta” isn’t really the name, of course, but since they were the University’s first openly Gay sorority, that’s what I’ll call them.

It was Summer Quarter, not many students around, and a lot of the Campus Police Force was on vacation, so I could handle this without interference. Mirror Lake is at the edge of Campus, like I say, surrounded by a small woods, and there’s a parking lot about half-a-mile up a blacktop path that leads down to the lake. The Lesba Delta girls probably figured they’d be able to see anyone coming in plenty of time, but I out-smarted them!

I drove to the other side of the woods just as it was getting dark — I was on the Three-to- Eleven Shift — and parked the cruiser well out of sight. Then I snuck through the woods on a dirt path till I came to the lake, which is one of those small, scenic things with a flagstone walk and old-fashioned streetlamps around it. The lamps don’t light much, though, and I made sure to sneak up in a darkened area.

Sure enough, there were six or eight pledges, just getting into the water, totally nude, looking nervously around. I could also see a couple of older members — who were probably supposed to be overseeing this initiation — had stripped down to join them!

I just watched for a few moments, fascinated by the sight of all these attractive, naked women, out there in the open. What must it feel like? Then I brought myself back to reality and made my move.

Quietly, I snuck around to the side of the lake where their clothes were piled and—careful not to be seen—pulled them back into the woods. Then I made my big entrance! I stepped out into the light, blew my whistle and yelled “STOP! POLICE!”

For a second, they all froze. Then they started scrambling out of the water and dashing into the woods like a nubile, pink stampede, bodies all wet and shiny in the lamp light, squealing in terror, then in dismay as they realized I was between them and their clothes!

I watched the blur of bare tits and asses, barely able to contain my laughter, till they were all hidden in the woods. Then I called to them in a hard, commanding voice to come out (knowing they’d do no such thing!) Finally, satisfied they were too scared to do anything, I GATHERED UP ALL THE CLOTHES AND CARRIED THEM TO MY POLICE CAR!

Then I drove to the Lesba Delta House, where I handed the clothes over to the President of the Sorority. I told her in a nice way that yeah, Girls just wanna have fun, but they could be arrested and expelled if someone else had caught them. The Sorority President thanked me for being lenient, and said that when the girls had all snuck back — clear across campus, wet, scared and totally nude — she’d warn them about stunts like this in the future. I left then, outwardly the Nice Cop, but inwardly laughing at the thought of all those nude lesbians trying to get clear across campus like that.

Back at the apartment, after work, I told Carol about it. “Wonder how they felt?” I finished my story, “Trying to run bare-assed clear across Campus?”

But to my surprise, Carol didn’t think it was a bit funny! She had some friends in the Lesba Delta Sorority, and she was upset that I played such a mean trick on them. I told her I could have just arrested them all, but she still thought I was being mean. I told her college girls get into those kinds of predicaments all the time, then she said I was just persecuting them for doing something I didn’t have the guts to do — skinny-dipping, she meant. I told her I did too have the courage, and she said Prove It, and I said I would, but just then I was tired and wanted to go to bed. She called me Chicken, and I said I’d show her she was mistaken. Carol said if I really did have the courage, then she’d do the cleaning for a month. That sounded good, but right then I was just too tired.

The next morning at breakfast, Carol brought the subject up again. I told her I wasn’t chicken, but I wasn’t stupid either: I had no intention of telling her when I was going to do the Swim or letting her come with me so she could steal my clothes! To my surprise, she said she trusted me, and if I came back and told her I had done the Swim, she’d believe me, and not only clean the Apartment, but also act as my Total Slave for a month.

But she added one other condition: I had to skinny-dip en femme: totally disguised as a female, complete with my swelled breasts and pussy-wig!

Well I had two reactions to that. First I was really touched that Carol had that kind of faith in me. Second, I got really turned-on by the idea of skinny-dipping in Mirror Lake — even if it meant doing it disguised as a female! I knew I could get away with it. What with the Campus Police being at minimum, I knew the Midnight Shift — both of them — would be busy doing security checks on the main campus most of the night. And I figured if I drove over to Mirror Lake straight from work, I’d have time to get the deed done before Carol started looking for me.

So at Eleven that night, I left the Station, still in my Uniform, and drove over to Mirror Lake. There were no cars in the lot, but just to be safe, I walked down the blacktop path to the lake — like a Policeman on Patrol — to check it out.

No one there.

As I walked back up to my car, I felt myself getting very nervous and turned-on. There was no excuse for backing out now! Back in the parking lot, I knew I could see headlights if anyone came, but no one was coming, so I had to do it.

I got back in my car and disrobed as quickly as I could, looking nervously around the whole time. Carefully, I removed the tight bandeau that had concealed my growing breasts all day (those shots really worked!) As I slipped off my underpants, I felt the tight crotch-cover confining my manhood into a small package between my legs, covered with a short, fleecy bush.

Next I carefully applied the waterproof makeup. I’d done it so long under Carol’s supervision, it was easy to paint my lips a full, pouting red, rouge my cheeks, and draw my eyebrows into a graceful curve over demure, shadowed eyes with l-o-n-g lashes.

Next I sprayed my hair and combed it into a cute, feminine wave. The way it swished across the back of my neck felt incredibly sexy, even in this tense situation, and I felt myself stiffen uncomfortably inside the tight pouch that held my manhood captive.

Still no one coming. The vinyl seat felt incredibly hot on my bare butt cheeks as I bundled my uniform on my lap. The leather belt rubbed against my stiff, tingling nipples, and I squirmed. I flipped the trunk latch, making sure I had the car key in my hand, then clutched the bundle of my clothes, hopped out of the car, ran around to the back and pitched them in the trunk! The noise as I slammed the lid closed almost made me jump out of my skin… which was all I was wearing!

Carefully holding the car key, I scampered down the blacktop path to the lake. The asphalt was still warm from the day’s sun, and it felt oily and sensuous on my bare feet, but I was too nervous too appreciate it just then. Why was I doing this? My nude tits jiggled shamefully as I hurried along, and I knew my naked butt must be bouncing as well! If I got caught, I’d lose my job, as well as being incredibly embarrassed!

Finally I reached the lake. Still nervous and horny, I looked carefully around one more time, then put my car key under a rock where I knew I could find it again. Heart pounding so loud I could hear it, I slipped into the dark water.

Oooo! It was cold! I guess I thought it’d be warmer on a nice night like this, or maybe it was the way my senses seemed heightened by my nervousness, but the water felt like ice cubes oozing over every inch of my naked skin. My teeth were almost chattering, but I made myself swim clear across the lake and back.

Then as I pulled myself out of the water, I heard a noise. Could be someone coming down the path! Quick as I could, I grabbed my key and darted into the darkened area behind a bush.

It was dreadful! The bush seemed to be full of sharp branches that kept poking my breasts and bottom, and the ground under my knees was bare dirt, quickly turning to mud as I crouched there dripping. I waited and waited, but no one showed up, and finally I convinced myself it must have been my imagination. Summoning up my courage once more, I crept out from behind the bush, covering myself with my hands and arms just in case.

But there was no one there. The noise had just been the wind in the trees or whatever, and I realized I was now a dirty mess, with mud all over my legs and probably leaves in my hair.

Well, I figured, there was an easy answer to that. I set my key down and ran back into the water. Once back in, it seemed warmer somehow, so I swam around a bit, ducked my head under and turned around a few times so as to get really clean. Then I got out onto the flagstone walk again, shook myself off like a dog and went to get my key.

I couldn’t find it!

I suddenly realized that when I first came down to the lake, I had been very careful to mark the spot so I could find my key again. But the second time, I had just laid it on the ground under a bush — in a darkened area — and went right into the water, where I had swum around so much I wasn’t even sure now where I had gone in at!

But this was awful! Without that key, I had no way to get back into my car… I couldn’t even get dressed again! Suddenly I felt very nervous and very very naked.

I don’t know how long I spent searching for that key, crawling around on my hands and knees in the grass and bushes, my bare butt waving in the air while my naked tits hung down, swaying in front of me, occasionally grazing my nipples on the tall grass. But it was no use. I’d lost the key and I was stuck out here naked — me, a Policeman, looking like a silly, nude co-ed!

Finally I decided the only thing to do was try to make my way to a phone booth and call Carol. I knew she’d tease me mercilessly about getting myself stuck in this predicament, but I couldn’t risk getting caught, and I most certainly couldn’t run around naked like this!

The closest phone was just on the other side of the parking lot. Not far, really but in my unclad feminine condition it seemed like running across a football field. I made my way back up the path to the parking lot, one arm crossed nervously over my breasts, the other hand down over my false pussy for some kind of cover. What if someone was parked up there? How could I ever get across to the phone? When I reached the lot, I ducked down and looked carefully. It was deserted. There was no one around to see my shameful run, but I still kept my arms crossed nervously around me, listening for any approaching sounds over the padding of my bare feet on the blacktop as I scurried across to the phone.

There was a light over the public phone, of course, and it felt like a spotlight on my bare skin as I punched in the numbers with nervous, fumbling fingers and went through the menu to reverse the charges and connect me. As the phone rang, I crouched down as far as the cord would allow, still looking nervously around.

Carol finally answered and accepted the charges. I told her where I was and that she had to come and bring me the extra car key. “Mirror Lake?” she asked. “What on Earth are you doing there? At this hour?”

“Never mind,” I pleaded, “I’m locked out of my car and you’ve got to bring me the key — quick!”

Something in my tone must have tipped her off. “Are you naked?” she asked. I didn’t know what to say. My awkward, embarrassed silence was answer enough, though, because she laughed and said, “You mean you really did go skinny dipping? All en femme? Did you?”

“Yes,” I finally admitted.

“And then locked yourself out of your car?” she giggled. “Like that?”

“YES!” I snapped, “Now will you please come and bring me the extra key? This is serious, Carol — I’m out here looking completely feminine and without a stitch of clothes, and if someone comes along… Carol you’ve got to help me!”

“We’ll see,” she said, still giggling, “You wait right there now.” And she hung up. I retreated to the darkest edge of the parking lot where I could still see my car, crouched down behind a bush and waited nervously.

It seemed to take forever, but at last I heard an engine, saw headlights… then caught my breath in fear as a Taxi pulled into the lot!

Puzzled and more nervous than ever, I watched as Carol got out of the cab and asked the driver to wait a minute. Why didn’t she just drive over? She walked around to the side of the car where the cabbie couldn’t see her, put something on the ground, then got in my car.

And then, to my horror, she just drove off!

Crouched there in the dark, big-breasted, bare-bottomed, locked out, nervous, puzzled and still horny, I watched unbelieving as the cab and my car – with my roommate and all my clothes in it — left the parking lot. What was going on? Finally I gathered up enough courage to run across the pavement and pick up the note Carol had left. I spent another anxious few minutes trying to find a place with enough light to read it, where I wouldn’t run too much risk of being seen, and opened it.

HEY ROOMIE, (it said)

REALLY IMPRESSED YOU HAD ENOUGH GUTS TO GO AHEAD AND DO IT, BUT THE MORE I THINK ABOUT IT, THE MORE UNFAIR IT SEEMS THAT YOU SHOULD GET AWAY WITH DOING WHAT YOU HARASSED THOSE OTHER GIRLS FOR. SO I’M TAKING YOUR CAR OVER TO THE LESBA DELTA HOUSE, WHERE I’LL PARK IT ON THE STREET AND LEAVE THE KEY UNDER THE FRONT TIRE. HAVE FUN GETTING OVER THERE! AFTER ALL, YOU DID SAY YOU WONDERED HOW THOSE GIRLS FELT, TRYING TO RUN BARE- ASSED CLEAR ACROSS CAMPUS. GUESS NOW YOU’LL FIND OUT!

Part 2

For a few moments I just stood (Or rather, Crouched) there, reading the mocking letter over and over again but not really believing it. Would my Room-mate and lover Carol really do this to me? Leave me out here at Mirror Lake completely feminized naked, and make me run clear across campus to get my clothes back? Sure, I’d done it to those Lesba Delta Sorority girls (some of whom were friends of hers) then joked that I wondered how they felt, having to run bare-assed clear across Campus, but I never dreamed I’d find out first-hand!

I gulped nervously, hugging my arms around my tingling, naked body for warmth as I realized:

1) I had no choice. I most certainly couldn’t stay here much longer. The only way out was to get over to the Lesba Delta house and try not to be seen. Getting caught this way would be not only terribly embarrassing, but might also cost me my job!

2) I was still horny! And somehow this was even more embarrassing. Like my own body was betraying me.

I forced myself to survey the situation as calmly as I could. There was an open field between Main Campus and the bushes where I was hiding. It was mostly dark, but there were lights at the edges I’d have to get past. Beyond that, the College Buildings were grouped around an oval, maybe half a mile long, bisected by lightly traveled walks. There were trees and bushes that might offer some concealment. Beyond the furthest building was a downtown street that should be fairly deserted (since most of the Bars were off on another street to my left) and beyond that, a side street that would take me to the Lesba-Delta House.

If I was fast and careful, I might make it. Summoning up all my courage, with one arm over my breasts and the other hand down over my false pussy, I made myself get up and start running across the field, going from one bit of shrubbery to another as I darted through the grass, feeling each blade between my bare toes — and the cool night are across my equally bare butt! With each scampering, frightened step, my stiff nipples brushed against my forearm and my damp crotch pressed on the trembling hand that covered it, till I felt I had to go crazy. But I kept running. Up ahead, the bank of lights glared between me and the dubious safety of the campus buildings, where there’d be more protective shadows, but I balked as I approached them, scared of exposing myself in the powerful lights. For an instant, I thought of ducking behind one last bush, until I could see if everything was clear, but I realized that if anyone was that close, they’d see me anyway, so I forced myself on.

Running into that bank of lights was just like leaping into an ice-cold stream. I felt my head spin and my body blush violently from head to foot, but I kept going, bare legs scissoring even faster, like a swimmer fighting the cold current. Finally I reached the shadows of the closest building, where I crouched in a corner, to get my breath.

Okay so far. I was hid for now. Somehow the cold granite of the building, rubbing up against my soft back and bottom, felt reassuring. As I caught my breath, I looked across the oval toward the street that was my next goal. That half-mile never looked so big before! Plenty of shadows to hide in, but there, at the far end, was a Police Car! Damn! All I needed was for one of my fellow-cops to catch me like this! Then I noticed there was another Police Car parked alongside, facing it, the two side-view mirrors almost touching. That meant the officers were talking, and as long as the conversation lasted (Which could be quite some time) I was safe, if I stayed inconspicuous. No fast movements or loud noises to draw their attention. The rest of the Oval seemed deserted, so my chances looked pretty good.

Crouching low, crawling when I had to, keeping in the shadows, I started making my way slowly across the Oval. It felt so undignified! Me, a Policeman, reduced to skulking inch by inch — completely feminine and very very naked –across the very turf where I was used to laying down the law. And it didn’t help a bit that I was still turned-on!

Assuming you’ve always associated sexual excitement with something pleasant, maybe it’s hard to express just how awful it was to feel that same thrill in risky and embarrassing conditions like mine: nude, outdoors, with big breasts, cute face, round, bouncy bottom and a coy trangle of dark hair between my legs, robbed of my uniform and being put through the shameful punishment I had just inflicted on a bunch of freshmen girls. Somehow it made my humiliation even worse, and I mentally cursed Carol as I crept slowly and noiselessly along.

But it was that slow, quiet progress that saved my skin a moment later. For as I snuck along, I suddenly heard voices — very close! I froze, huddled in the shadows, and listened. It didn’t take long to realize I was listening to a couple making out! The sighs, moans, the rustle of clothing on the bench just on the other side of the bush where I was hiding, made it all too clear what was going on. As I crouched there nude, listening to the sounds of their passion, I felt another wave of sexual frustration run through me — along with the alarming realization that they might be at this for quite some time! And now that I was so close, I didn’t think I could sneak past them unseen.

I looked around, wondering what to do, trying to ignore the sighs and moans just a few feet away and concentrate. If I backed up v-e-r-y carefully, and retraced my steps about 30 yards, I might be able to detour over to the left. I just hated the notion of going so far out of my way — and in my present condition! — but there seemed no choice.

Little did I know.

As I turned around to go back the way I came, my right foot, stiff from crouching there so long, suddenly slipped from under me, spilling me backwards into the bush! I heard the girl squeal loudly and the guy swear as they jumped to their feet. I rolled to my knees and got up, but not before they both came around to my side of the shrubbery to investigate.

“What th–” The guy blurted, “A girl!”

“And she’s sure not wearing much!” The girl sounded angry, but I didn’t wait around for them to think this thing out. Still hugging my breasts with one arm and trying to cover my throbbing crotch with the other, I dashed off to the left, away from them.

“Boy, look at her!” Was the last thing I heard the guy say as I sprinted across a circle of lamplight, scrambling desperately toward the darkness beyond. My naked butt felt at least a yard wide, and I swear I could almost feel the eyes of the young couple on my bare skin. I ran faster, and finally made it into the shadows.

But my troubles weren’t over. As I paused for breath in the protective darkness, I saw that the noise and commotion had attracted the attention of the two Policemen, who were now approaching the young couple… carrying flashlights! I had to get out of there, fast!

Knowing it wouldn’t be safe for me to stay on the oval, I ran toward the buildings that bordered the campus…. and the street beyond — which was the street with all the Bars! It’d be risky, but if I could get across and into the alley on the other side without anyone seeing me, I could take a side-route over to the Lesba Delta house. It was my only hope.

Once past the last Campus Building, I crouched behind a trash can as close to the street as I dared to get, and peeked out. The strip bars lining the other side were busy as usual, but at least there weren’t any crowds of horny young college guys standing around in front. Across the street, a driveway between two buildings would give me access to the alley… if I made it.

No time to waste. I checked traffic as best I could, then made myself get up and run across the street, still hugging my arms around me to cover my nudity! It was dreadful. Somehow, over the noise of traffic, I could hear the “slap-slap” of my bare feet on the pavement, feel the dirty asphalt on my soles, and the shameful jiggling of my naked breasts and butt.

Then, when I was halfway across, a car full of college boys whipped out of the driveway right ahead, barreling straight towards me! I froze – literally, an animal paralyzed in the headlights – as things suddenly seemed to move in slow motion. I saw the red-faced young driver’s eyes widen, his face contort as he slammed on the brakes. saw the front bumper scream to a protesting stop just inches from my knees. Saw the gangly passenger in the front seat lurch forward toward the windshield, jerked back by his seatbelt. Saw a can of amber beer slide from his hand and splatter across the dashboard. Heard angry cries from the back seat….

Suddenly I came to my senses. Maybe it was my years of training as a cop, or maybe it was just my naked fear, but I realized I had to get out of there -FAST!- before those College Boys collected their senses and reacted to the sight of a naked woman right in front of them!

I twisted around and sprang to one side of the car, darting past it just inches ahead of opening car doors. As I sprinted up the paved drive, towards the alley behind the buildings, I heard cries of “Naked Broad!” “Didja see those hooters?” and “Where’d she go?” behind me, but… so far… no running footsteps but my own. But I knew it wouldn’t be long. Bare legs scissoring as fast as they could, I raced into the alley behind the bars. Had to hide. There was an open back door, leading into someplace dark, just to my right. I knew it was probably the back entrance to a bar, but it looked deserted, and right now that was my best bet. I ran inside and swung the door shut!

I stood in the dim light for a few seconds, listening to the sounds of pursuit outside, realizing with relief that they hadn’t seen me come in here, then looked around to see where I was.

A hallway. To my left, sounds of people and music, to my right, what looked like a small room of some kind. Behind me the exit.

Not much choice. I went into the small room on my right as quietly as I could. And blessed my luck! It was a dressing room of some kind, mercifully deserted right now… and there were clothes here!

What I did then may sound strange, so let me explain: I picked up a big curly red wig that was lying on the vanity, put it on my head, sat down and started applying makeup. See, I knew this had to be the room where the “dancers” changed clothes, and someone might come in any minute. So while I wanted to get some clothes on, I wanted even more to make sure no one here would recognize me. I spent as much time as I dared, applying bright red lipstick to make my mouth look fuller, shadowing my eyes and sticking in false lashes to change the shape, and rouging my cheeks to alter the contours of my face. Then, when I was satisfied no one would identify me, I started looking around for clothes.

There sure wasn’t much to choose from! Tiny G-strings, high heels, shiny boots, tasseled pasties, and an assortment of nighties were all I could find. I wished desperately for a trench coat or something I could slip over me and slip out, but there was nothing like that. After several minutes, I had only managed to put on the biggest G-string I could find… which covered my false pussy at least, even if it left my bottom exposed… and a strapless see-through black nightie that draped over my breasts – exposing the tops – and ended just below my butt (if I stood very straight that is). I was just slipping into the least-tall set of high heels I could find when the door swung open and a scantily-clad woman walked wearily in.

For just a second we stared at each other, surprised in her case and terrified in mine. My eyes took in her outfit: bright red pasties, bad black net hose, garterbelt and red G-string. Obviously a “dancer” here. Then she spoke. “Carl send you, Honey?”

“Yes?” I hoped it was the right answer.

“Thank gawd,” she sighed, “I been working my ass off out there. You find everything you need?”

“I-I think so?” I said hesitantly.

“Good,” she smiled. “Better put on some pasties and get on out there–” She picked up two black triangles from the vanity, reached up under my nightie and, to my shock, stuck them over my pouting nipples, smoothing them in place with a gentle caress! The sensation was bizarre and somehow incredibly erotic. Me, a Policeman, being fondled by a stripper! I felt my knees jerk with the sudden, unexpected wave of arousal

.

“Naughty!” she teased. “No Air-Humping; save that for those horny freshmen. The music’ll start soon and those boys are really primed,” she went on.

Somehow I’d gotten to my feet and she was escorting me to a door. Not the one I’d come in: another one, with music on the other side, she pushed me through with a playful spank on my blushing bottom. “You’re on, Honey!”

Part 3

Before I quite realized what was happening, the Stripper had pushed me through the door (OOO! her hands on my bare bottom gave me an involuntary tingle.) and I was standing on a tiny stage above a Bar — in front of a crowd of hooting College Students — dressed in nothing but high heels, pasties, G-string and a strapless black see-through nightie — me, a Policeman!

Assuming you’ve had that dream where you find yourself naked on a public street, you can maybe understand how I felt just at that moment. I knew with my feminine-shaped body, that gaudy wig and makeup I probably wouldn’t be recognized, but that didn’t ease my anxiety a bit… not when I was standing in this ridiculous get-up before of a roomful of people who expected me to dance for them — Dance, hell, they expected me to STRIP!

I shifted uncomfortably as the Bartender hit a button and the music started. Those pasties itched! The G-string itched. And it didn’t help a bit to know that less than a mile away, my Police Uniform was locked up just waiting for me in my car… parked in front of the Lesba Delta Sorority House! For the umpteenth time that night I cursed the erotic foolishness that made me accept my roommate’s dare to go skinny-dipping en femme— and the streak of mischief in Carol that inspired her to drive away with all my clothes!

But it was too late now. If I didn’t start peeling, and pretty quick, this crowd was going to get loud and ugly… and the last thing I wanted was to draw any more attention! So as the first base line began to build, I started jiggling for the guys in front.

It was an incredible, unreal, dream-but-not-a-dream feeling. I was still kind of aroused, remember, and the feel of being up there in front of all those men… staring at me, lusting for me, practically drooling… somehow excited me, even as it increased my nervous embarrassment.

So I pranced around on the stage behind the bar, trying to keep time with the music. The smallest gesture, the tiniest wiggle, set everyone hooting, and the guys in front of the bar strained to look up my nightie. They didn’t realize that the reason for my sexy shaking was mostly nervous embarrassment! After about a minute, they started pounding on the Bar. Okay, I thought, Better let ’em have a look. I pulled the hem of my nightie up further to show off my G-string and twirled around to flash my bottom. The College Boys cheered. Started to shout things. Look-but-don’t-touch, I thought to myself as I raised the nightie over my head, showing off my pastie-covered tits and jiggled them quickly as I pulled the hem back down. That was a mistake. The nightie was STRAPLESS, and the only thing holding it up was my boobs. The action of swinging them around was too much for the flimsy elastic, and the thing slithered down my torso and off my legs with a cool silken “swish!” leaving me three-quarters nude in the spotlight! Everyone howled!!

Not knowing what else to do, I tickled my pasties and my crotch and tried to bump and grind till the number was over. Had to stretch this out. The music was coming to a climax(!?) as I popped off first one pastie, then the other, covering my breasts with my hands, then turned my back to the crowd and toyed with the waistband of my G-string (as if I really intended to lower it – HAH!) till the music finally ended and the audience cheered wildly.

As I staggered off the stage behind the bar, I searched in vain for my nightie. Apparently one of the guys took it. And I’d dropped one of my Pasties! But worse things were right ahead: The Bartender handed me a tray and told me to start serving Drinks! I was going to have to talk to these men — this rabble I just aroused — serve them booze till it was safe to slip away — with both breasts and one nipple fully exposed — not to mention my bottom!

Well, since all they served here was Beer, it wasn’t hard to remember the orders. But just imagine how I felt, one pastie gone, strutting around in high-heels and a heart-shaped G-string, jiggling my 90% naked boobs as I served drinks to a bunch of frisky college kids I’d just heated up!

Every time I bent down to hear an order over the music, a hand would come up to cup my breast, or fingers would mischievously pinch my butt. And that wasn’t all — as soon as I delivered my first tray of beers I discovered something else about my G-string: It was a purse! That’s where the kids put my tips. They could just shove anything they wanted into the pouch, and what with my hands busy holding pitchers and glasses, there wasn’t much I could do if their fingers lingered, rubbing my shirking crotch till I gasped.

Apparently, though, most of the crowd caught on to something before I did: most of my tips came in Change. Get it? Change. Coins are heavy. You can guess what happened as the G-string filled up: It started to slip. And I didn’t often have a hand free to tug it back up! The only way to keep it high enough to cover me was walk around bow-legged! That meant parading around on those awful heels with my legs spread to stay covered. Which made the guys even randier, meaning more tips and more slippage!

By the time I made my way to the last table, I was holding the waist-strap with one hand and trying to balance a tray of beers in the other, and pretty sure that the G-string was going to drop the minute I let go. This table was occupied by two good-looking college girls who were pretty ticked-off that their dates had brought them here, and they seemed highly amused by my plight. They asked me how it felt, gadding about like this in front of all these horny strangers, and I explained how embarrassing it was, with one nipple peeking out and all.

That’s when the Blonde got up, cupped my bare breast in one hand and painted my nipple with her lipstick! Ohhhh! Legs parted, hands full, I could only watch –and blush all over again — as she giggled and held my ample breast in one hand and reddened the swollen tip of my tit with the other. Then she sat down and smilingly asked me how it felt! Of course, it felt horrible to be exposed and handled like that in front of the whole room…. and they loved it!

Finally I was allowed to put their drinks down on the table. These were low tables, so bending at the waist, my buns were way up, especially in those heels and SSSSWAT!! The blonde’s punky-looking companion landed the back of her hand smartly across my upraised target!

Ooo! The unexpected sting brought a tear to my eye. I jumped — and my flimsy G-String went sliding down my trembling legs! I tried to untangle it from around my ankles and only succeeded in stepping out of my high-heels as the bar rocked with laughter at the sight of me lurching back and forth, my hands trying to shield my pussy and keep my balance at the same time.

It was too much. Too shameful. Ears burning, I left my G-string in a puddle on the floor and raced toward the door. I didn’t really care what might be outside, just so I could get away from being the object of everyone’s amusement in here!

As I burst through the door, the cold darkness and relative quiet outside were almost a relief. The street was mercifully near-empty as I raced around a corner, bare feet slapping on the concrete sidewalk, and made for the alley that would lead — eventually — to the Lesba Delta house where my car was parked.

That last mile took me nearly an hour. An hour of ducking behind dumpsters, skulking through shadows, darting across moonlit backyards, and jumping into bushes (Ouch!) where I crouched, hugging my nude body for warmth, hardly daring to breath till the coast was clear and I could race off again. But at last I made it to the back of the Sorority House, and raced around to the street in front….to find six Lesba Delta Sisters waiting  — one of them wearing MY uniform!

They saw me coming. And they looked ready to chase me if I tried to run (which I was too tired to do, anyway!) So, still covering my false pussy with one hand and the de-pastie’ed tit with the other, I shamefully minced up to them. As I got closer, I saw they were all Freshmen — probably the very girls I had forced to run naked last night!

“Well,” a petite oriental girl with a mischievous smile said, “Looks like our friendly neighborhood Cop finally made it!”

“Kinda out of Uniform, isn’t he?” a busty blonde in a too-tight T-shirt giggled.

“I dunno,” the coed in my uniform — a girl about my size with long, long auburn tresses that barely fit under my uniform cap, sauntered up to me, “I kinda like this look: the trashy red wig, the slutty makeup… and this…” She caressed my pastie — the only thing I was wearing! — with the end of my nightstick and they all tittered to see me squirm. “… this is the perfect touch! I think she’s developed real taste!”

“P-please,” standing there 99% nude and 100% feminine in front of these spiteful girls, blushing furiously, I begged. “This isn’t funny! Gimme my clothes back! Ooo! This is so awful! I’m sorry, really I am. I-I’ve been through so much tonight! Pleeese let me get dressed again! I-I’ll do anything!”

“Well you certainly do beg prettily,” A plumpish girl with short cherry-red hair mused. “Let’s see you dance!”

“Yeah,” The oriental grinned even wider, “Dance while you beg for your clothes back.”

“But lose the Pastie,” The busty blonde added, “It’s too much — now DANCE!”

And so, feminized, terrified, utterly humiliated and totally nude now, I pranced around for them on the sidewalk, terrified that a car might come along at any moment, as I begged again for them to give me back the clothes I had so foolishly separated myself from a few long hours ago. For the second time that night, I was being forced to strut my body for a lustful audience… and it didn’t help a bit that now the audience was all female!

But finally they showed signs of relenting.

“Well,” the oriental girl said, “Carol was right; she put on a good show for us.”

“And I guess it WOULD be awfully embarrassing if anyone caught her like that,” the cherry-red-head added thoughtfully.

“Probably even cost him his job if word got out,” the blonde in the tight T-shirt said.

HIM?? HIS???!! I realized now that Carol must have told these man-haters all about me!

“So I tell you what,” the young girl in my uniform said at last, “We’ll give you your clothes back–”

“Oh thank you!” I gasped, covering myself with my hands once again.

“But only after you’ve done us a little additional favor!”

“Wh-what do you mean?” I was totally defeated now, close to tears, ready to do whatever they asked.

“I mean we’re supposed to go through the rest of Hell Week this weekend,” she smiled. “The six of us are going to have to sleep in the basement storage locker, wait on our Sorority Sisters, serve at the formal Dinner, go through the Spanking Line, and maybe even go on the Camp Out… unless we can find someone else to take our place!”

“B-but…” I started

“A substitute Pledge willing to go through all that for us… and stay completely naked here at the Lesba Delta house all weekend,” she went on, grinning wickedly. “And fortunately, Carol told us you were just starting a 3-day weekend tonight.”

“So what’ll it be?” A lanky girl with vivid green eyes and short dark hair spoke up, “Do we keep your secret and return your clothes after you’ve been our Pledge Stand-In this weekend? Or do we just keep this stuff and start spreading the word?”

They looked at me as I hung my head in naked defeat. The choice I had was no choice at all and we all knew it. One of them put a dog collar around my neck. With a leash on it. As they led me into the Lesba Delta house, they all chattered excitedly,

“Won’t she make a great shower girl?”

“And a lovely bed-warmer!”

“I can’t wait to see her dance again…”

THE END!

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