OMG! I'm Naked in School! Ch. 01

Working down from the top, she popped the buttons free one by one, not daring to look down at what she was doing and keeping her eyes loosely focused on the wall. When the last button at the bottom came free, she again tossed her hair back left and right over her shoulders, and in doing so, the front of her blouse spread open.

Purposely not allowing herself to focus on the others, she shrugged her shirt off her shoulders. Holding it by the back of the collar, she reached for one of the brown paper bags on the dressing table. Jittery, and her fingers shaking, she folded it neatly, then set the shirt down carefully inside. Still not allowing herself to make eye contact with anyone watching her, she pulled around one of the chairs, sat down and bent over to unbuckle and slip off her Mary Janes. Either her fingers weren't working right or she was in too much of a hurry, because she ended fumbling with the little buckle, unable to get the strap to slide free.

At orientation, one of the stress reduction techniques her councilor had recommended was never to envision how you think you appear to those around you. Yet as Carolyn fretted with the buckle, she couldn't help but conjure up an image of herself. As though she'd tapped into a feed from an imaginary security camera up in a corner of the room, she could see herself bent over in the chair. Behind her to either side were the dressing tables with their chipped Formica tops and Hollywood--styled light bulbs framing the mirrors. Her hair hung down around the sides of her face, and the stark whiteness of her bra strap created a noticeable contrast against the skin of her back.

After fumbling for what seemed the longest time, she finally managed to get both buckles undone and her shoes and socks off. Getting to her feet, for a moment she couldn't think of what to do with her shoes, ultimately settling on placing them on the table next to the bag. Now taking time to look around, she saw the others had followed her lead and were busy getting undressed. Except for Richard, who had gotten his jeans off and was sitting in the chair in his underwear. With his jeans over his lap, he was staring blankly out into space, his thoughts clearly somewhere else than in this room.

While playing the role of Amaryllis in the school play, Carolyn had changed clothes in front of this very same mirror many times, but then, there had only been other girls in the room, and she'd never needed to remove her underwear. Even if Richard didn't appear to be paying attention to her right now, the fact he was sitting only a few feet away definitely had an effect on her stress level as she now reached up behind her back to unhook her bra.

She'd performed this simple act so many times; it had become a reflex she never even had to think about. Yet now, with her palms clammy and her fingers trembling, try as she might, she couldn't seem to get the bra's straps unhooked. When finally the last hook did come free, feeling the back straps fall away to hang at her sides and the cups come loose from her breasts caused another unexpected spike in her anxiety. On the verge of panicking, she tried to calm herself with the thought, This is nothing more than one of those sudden jolts of apprehension my councilor warned me I'd experience. Just breathe and try not to think about what you're doing.

As if frozen in fear, she was holding her bra clasped to her breasts. Yet when she felt first the left strap and then the right slip down off her shoulders, the sensation cut through the fog, and a dose of raw reality smacked her right between the eyes. In that moment she knew, I'm actually here! This is me, Carolyn! Am I really going through with this? Really?

Swept away in a dizzying flood of indecision, the dressing room's gray cinder block walls felt as though they were closing in about her. Everything about everything was as intense as it was surreal. She tried once again telling herself to keep calm, but at that moment, she made the mistake of allowing her eyes to fall upon her own reflection in the mirror. When she'd undone the last hook, and her bra came loose, she'd reacted to the physical sensation of the cups about to slip off her breasts by clutching her bra to her. Standing still, her heart felt as if it was pounding up in her throat. Yet for some reason, when she found the courage to allow her hands to drop away, seeing the soft, white fabric of the cups puckered and loose about her breasts, along with the physical sensation of knowing her bra was on the verge of slipping free from her body had her teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.

If all this wasn't stressful enough, in the next heartbeat she noticed down in the corner of the mirror, Richard had turned his attention back to her. Instinctively, she clasped her hands back over her bra, keeping it from slipping off her breasts. Yet a moment later, when she realized he had witnessed her embarrassment and had to be aware of her distress, she felt a burning flush of self-consciousness light in the pit of her stomach.

Taking in a deep breath, she held it, then exhaled. Carolyn knew if she was going to go through with this, she desperately needed to get a grip. These next few moments were going to be one of those monumental steps her counselor told her she would encounter, a threshold, which would require a conscious decision to cross. It was one thing to take off her blouse, shoes and socks, but if she allowed her bra to fall free from her breasts while Richard watched, there would be no turning back.

Even as she was considering the consequences of not going through with it and quitting the study right now, it happened. Dropping her hands, the cups slipped free from her breasts. Then simply allowing the shoulder straps to slide down her arms and into her hands, she wadded up her bra and dropped it in the bag.

The sensation of being bare--breasted was electric. The feel of the weight of her breasts as well as the cool air upon her bare skin created a blend of pure terror and exhilaration. Not really knowing what to do next, she reached up and began to massage the red welts where her bra's back straps had pressed into her ribs. Yet when she remembered Richard was watching, she stopped, instantly flooded through and through with embarrassment.

In the back of her mind, she knew touching herself like this was nothing more than an unconscious habit. After removing her bra, she almost always massaged her sides as well as the undersides of her breasts. Yet stressing over the fact she'd touched herself in such a personal manner, and Richard had seen her do it; it offered a small measure of relief, as well as tinge of disappointment to glance at his reflection down in the bottom corner of the mirror and see he had already directed his attention elsewhere.

It was so unsettling yet entirely compelling to peer into the mirror and see a reflection of herself. Her breasts entirely bare, and with only her jeans remaining, the face of the girl she saw looking back at her appeared pale, yet also flushed with excitement.

Tossing her hair first left, then right, Carolyn took in a deep breath, then focused again on the task at hand. Her jeans were the next challenge. Again, her fingers were fumbling so badly, it was a struggle to pop loose the button at the top. When finally she had the button released and began to pull down the zipper, with how quiet it was in the room, just as when Richard had unzipped his jeans, the sound her zipper made zipping down struck her as incredibly loud. Holding the open sides of her jeans in her fingers, all she needed to do to make that next giant leap was to pull down her jeans and step out of them. Making sure to focus upon the wall and not dare to watch herself doing it in the mirror, she pulled her jeans down off her hips, then bending over she brought up her left knee first, and next her right, stepping completely out of her pants. With her jeans off and in her hand, another fresh jolt of reality struck her. She was now down to nothing more than her panties, and if she thought her heart was pounding a few moments ago, the tension she was experiencing before was nothing compared to now.

Along with the removal of each piece of clothing, her sense of detachment from reality was becoming more and more profound. She felt hazy and in a daze. Realizing she might be on the verge of hyperventilating, she took a moment to breathe slowly in and out in an attempt to get her heart rate back under control. It's just an adrenaline rush, she told herself. Breathe in, breathe out ... you'll be okay.

She was never all that picky about having to have her clothes folded just so, but now, she took her time folding the jeans perfectly before adding them atop the pile of her other clothes already in the bag.

That done, she stole another quick moment to look around and check out what was going on around her. Richard was still sitting in the chair in his white briefs. He was watching Laura, who was down to her bra and panties, making a face as her hands worked to release the clasp behind her back. Carolyn flashed maybe Richard would be a gentleman, get up, go over, and offer to lend a hand. Though a second later, she recalled her own troubles getting her bra unhooked, and knew she would have felt totally mortified had he offered to help. Stephanie was still in her blouse, but was busy folding up her pants. The volleyball player had taken off her t--shirt and sweat pants revealing a sports bra and a purple thong, and the little redheaded girl had her shirt unbuttoned and was only just now removing her shoes and socks.

Carolyn had calmed her breathing down considerably over the last minute or so, but she received a fresh jolt of reality when she made the mistake of turning back and again found herself confronted with her reflection in the mirror. Seeing herself wearing nothing more than her panties flooded her with an almost overwhelming surge of panic. Similar to the bizarre reaction when she fixed upon the sensation of her bra hanging loose about her breasts, the sight of her bare naval caused another spike of anxiety to wash through her in surreal waves. Transfixed, she stared at the mostly naked girl in the reflection, while the others behind her in various stages of undress went through their motions as if background characters in a Quentin Tarantino movie.

Slowly, she brought her eyes back up to her breasts, and from out of nowhere, an astonishing thought blindsided her. For the first time all morning, a trace of a smile crept across her lips. Think of all those boys since the seventh grade who've worked so hard to sneak peeks at your breasts.

In embracing the thought, Carolyn realized ever since her breasts had first begun to develop, she had become an active player in the cat and mouse game between girls and boys, with the boys trying to seize every opportunity to sneak peeks, and her either letting them or not, depending upon her mood. Deep down in her heart, she knew sometimes she'd purposely left an extra button or two undone on her blouse. Whether bending down to pick up her backpack, or leaning forward while talking to a guy while seated at her desk, she'd relished playing innocent and feigning not having any clue whatsoever a boy was staring down her blouse. More than once, she'd come to school deliberately not wearing a bra, and delighted in the secret titillation of the deliciously naked feeling of the tips of her nipples when they stood taut beneath her clothes. Now though, this was entirely different. The game was over. Dressed in nothing more than her panties, she was topless with a guy in the room. Yet before she could get a handle on this, the ensuing thought hit her with this clammy yet luscious shiver. I guess all the boys are finally going to have their day!

Shocked at herself for what she was thinking, she allowed her eyes to drop from her breasts, and had her attention immediately drawn to the pastel pink of her panties. My god! Look at you, Carolyn? Her inner voice was racing as fast as her heart. This is you! You're standing here before this mirror with a guy in the room and wearing nothing but your panties. You took such care in picking them out this morning. Yet right now, you can't for the life of you remember why it seemed so important. If you take this next step, you'll be completely naked, and these panties you fretted over will end up in that brown paper bag along with the rest of the clothes you worried over this morning.

Peering into her own eyes, as if mesmerized, Carolyn was lost in her thoughts. Truly as if within a dream, the silence in the room about her seemed unreal, unbroken, except for an occasional squeak of a chair leg or a nervous cough.

Her palms clammy and her mouth gone dry, Carolyn came out of it to realize she was at another of those thresholds she would have to cross. As she tried to muster her courage, she felt so disconnected, as though this wasn't her at all; she was simply watching the girl in the mirror. She saw the girl bring her fingers down to the lacy waistband and hesitate before hooking her thumbs down into the elastic. The sensation when the girl's fingers slipped beneath the waistband caused her to reconnect. Never before had she experienced such a flash flood of nerves as she did now, holding her breath with the lace between her fingertips. Yet with a resolve that seemed to happen on its own, she lifted the lace up and away from her hips and pulled her panties all the way down to her knees in one swift move. For just a heartbeat, she paused. Forced to bend over to pull her panties down the rest of the way, in that moment, she became ultra--conscious of so many sensations, from how her hair flowed around the sides of her face to the weight of her naked breasts as they swung away from her body.

As she slid her panties down to her ankles, more startling than any sensation was the sudden exposure to the room's cool air within the heated hollow between her legs. In contrast, she could also feel how cold her bare toes were upon the cement floor. Rising up and steadying herself with one hand on the back of a chair, she tried to step out of her panties, but the leg hole snagged on her big toe and caused her to lose her balance. A burn of panic flashed through her as the chair slid forward slightly and creaked under her weight. The most embarrassing thing she could imagine would be to fall down on the floor like some kind of naked klutz.

Steadying herself, Carolyn slipped her panties free from her toe and clutched them all balled up in her sweaty palm. Her pretty pink panties, her last shred of modesty now wadded up in her hand. Caught up in the rush of the moment, she again allowed her eyes to take in the reflection of the girl in the mirror. There she was, yet somehow not the same girl from only a few minutes before. Is this me? Carolyn? Not a stitch to my name? Absolutely, completely and totally naked?

Her inner voice came alive. This is me! It's really me! I've actually gone through with it! I'm naked! That moment I've been dying over, dreading and dreading, it's here. These are my breasts. These are my nipples. And, oh my god! They're standing out as hard as they can be!

As a reflex, she almost allowed herself touch them; but immediately stopped, flooded with abject embarrassment the moment she saw her hand come up in the mirror. One of her myriad worries she'd silently stewed over these past few days was what would she'd do if and when her nipples became erect. And now, right off the bat, the worst of her fears had arisen.

Carolyn swallowed dryly and tossed her hair from side to side. Feeling so incredibly awkward and not knowing what to do with her hands, she allowed her gaze to slip lower, and what she saw was terrifying. Yesterday evening, in preparation for today she'd taken extra time in applying depilatory cream and doing a detailed shave everywhere, including her bikini line. Now, for the second time in moments, Carolyn once again experienced that huge sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach when she realized how much of her was visible between her legs. Even in the dressing room's dingy light, she agonized, Why couldn't you leave well enough alone this morning? That final nervous touch up with the razor had obviously gone way too far. All that remained of her pubic hair were the barest wisps, causing her to appear almost entirely bare.

Aghast at how exposed she was, the girl in the mirror's mouth had fallen open. Oh! My! God! Icy panic flooded through her. You've shaved yourself completely bare! Why would you do such a stupid thing! This is so totally embarrassing!

In all her hours of fretting and worrying about being naked, this wasn't what she'd envisioned at all. She'd imagined herself with her auburn curls concealing the most intimate folds and creases between her legs. Compared to some other girls she'd seen, the light brown wisps between her legs weren't very concealing at all, but she'd drawn some comfort in thinking her most intimate secrets would be at least somewhat concealed. Now this! Oh! My! God!

Flushed with panic, she realized her pubic area hadn't appeared this bare since before puberty set in. Fueled by this latest trauma, the dreamlike cloudiness in which she found herself grew even hazier than ever before. She had a sharp taste in her mouth, brassy and dry, and her heart was again pounding and pounding up in her throat. Yet, there was absolutely nothing she could do about it now, short of refusing to go through with it and putting her clothes back on.

Feeling numb, dazed even disembodied, out of the corner of her eye she watched the naked girl in the mirror drop her panties in the bag, then crumple the top closed. On the table were felt tip markers next to a stack of index cards and a box of paper clips. Her fingers shaking, the naked girl in the mirror scribbled, Carolyn Timmons on a card, then paper clipped it to the bag.

Done, she couldn't think of a single thing in the world to do with her hands, even if she could have felt her fingers. Should I sit down? Should I just stand here? Should I go out? I'm so nervous I don't have a clue what to do!

Searching and finally recalling the stress reduction lecture from orientation, Carolyn closed her eyes, taking in two long, deep breaths, then a third and a fourth. Hiding in the darkness behind her eyelids and listening to her heart pound in her ears, she remembered her counselor saying maintaining control over your breathing was the make--or--break stress management technique. She stood motionless, concentrating on long, even breaths; trying to get her racing heart under control. Finally, she began to feel better, but when she opened her eyes, she was just as naked as she had been moments ago.