The Ice Queen Cometh Ch. 02

This story follows the story "The Ice Queen Cometh," in Exhibitionism and Voyeurism. It involves Jamie Cappiano, who suffers from a nudity phobia (known in medical parlance as gymnophobia). Her phobia has kept her virginal, but a visit from an equally messed up man from Chicago (or so it seems), Jason Jones, shows her that she is capable of sex as long as it is pitch black, and nobody can see her. But Jamie uses this discovery to leverage her newfound love of sex to try some exhibitionism, which leads her to Mike and a new experimental drug Dyrenatrene, which in reality is simply cleverly packaged placebos. The Dyrenatrene/placebos, combined with heavy alcohol consumption, lead Jamie to lose her inhibitions, to suppress her gymnophobia, and enable her to enjoy a full and wild sexual life.

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Warning: This story contains a kind of threesome, hints of lesbian/bisexual desire, and nonconsensual sex near the end. The story was originally planned as an exhibitionist and voyeur story, and it contains many of the elements of such a story. But it seemingly inevitably morphed into a non-consent/reluctance story, especially in the third part. It is also long, so please have patience when you read it. Part II has mild non-consent/reluctance, but if you are hard core and without patience, you can simply skip to Part III.

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Part I: Jamie returns to work

It's Sunday morning in Manhattan. Jamie was out of bed, showered and dressed. She had taken two of the Dyrenatrene pills Mike gave her from the small brown bottle Friday night. She still had the bottle, and it had six pills left. They were experimental and Mike had said, she was pretty sure, that the effect lasted 24 hours or longer. Well, this morning made around 36 hours. She wondered?

It would be easy enough to find out. Would her nudity phobia be back in full force, or not? There was an obvious way to tell. She opened the blinds, letting the full force of the morning sun enter her apartment. She stood in front of the window, and counted down from ten. If her phobia were back, she would not be able to remove her blouse, which she noted was fully buttoned, as it had always been before that fateful night when she gave Jason her virginity.

Before she began her test, she stood there, remembering her time with Jason. Jason was the kind of man who wanted to make every girl he met another sexual conquest to add to his doubtless long list. He was handsome, charming, debonair, and -let's face it - irresistible. He had taken her virginity. Let's be honest: She had given it to him. If he had not taken it, she may even have raped him, if it is even possible for a woman to rape a man.

He had found the key to her phobia: He made the hotel room completely pitch black, so neither of them could see anything. She herself could see nothing at all. Her nudity phobia seemed not to apply in those conditions. She marveled at her good fortune that she had found a man as fucked up as she was.

But it did not sit well with her. If he too was so strange, how had he managed to lay 20 or more women as he had told her he had? It just did not make sense. She made a mental note to look into it.

She owed Jason, though. It was he who had suggested some harmless exhibitionism in the safety of a hotel window on the 8th floor in New York. That was where Mike had seen her, and she had met him, throwing away the big city anonymity, and miraculously he had these experimental anti-phobia drugs. The drugs were themselves miraculous, and she not only lost her phobia, but under the influence of those experimental meds she became a flaming exhibitionist in extremist (and somewhat of a slut, to boot) letting Mike fuck her on their first date.

He did not just fuck her, he fucked her outdoors in a public park in the financial district, and her boss had happened to be there and had watched. Okay, this was a bit too much. Three miracles in less than a week? Her boss watching her fuck could not be described as a miracle however. It was more like a career destroying event.

Holy shit: 36 hours earlier she had let a man fuck her, naked, in a public park, and then said hello to her boss while he stared at her barely covered tits. How was she going to face him on Monday? How?

All of these thoughts took only a second as she stood in the window. Why was she standing there? Oh yes: to see if the drugs were still working or not. Was her mouth dry? Yes, it was. Check. Was she dizzy? No. Well maybe, a little. Check. The meds worked better with alcohol. She had not drunk anything in over 24 hours. Should she drink something before the test? Yes, probably.

She always kept a bottle of white wine in the fridge. Hopefully her roommate had not drunk it. She went to the fridge and checked: Yes, there was some left. She poured herself a glass, sat down in front of the TV and turned on MSNBC to watch the Sunday morning talking heads, while she drank the wine and gave it some time to have an effect.

After the five minutes or so of straight commercials, she once again confirmed that all the nattering nabobs were going to discuss was Trump, Trump, and more Trump. Well, at least she had some wine.

After 15 minutes or so she was back at the window. Here goes. After two buttons, she felt the upwelling of a panic attack forming. Her breathing was too fast, and her mind was racing. She left the window and had some more wine, and watched some more MSNBC commercials. Then more Trump. She switched to CNN. More commercials, and then more Trump. Jesus.

She switched again, this time to NY One, the Time Warner station. Or was it now the Spectrum Station? Oh, well; at least they talked about NY News. Oh shit: It was about the cost to New York City of protecting Trump's family. She turned off the TV and grabbed yesterday's paper. She read the fashion pages.

She found an old issue of Cosmopolitan. The model on the cover was wearing a blouse open to her navel. Inspired, she went back to the window. Before she could stop herself, she unbuttoned all the buttons on her blouse, even taking it out of her pants to continue with all the buttons. She felt the upwelling of panic, but she managed to suppress it, soldiering through.

She stood in the window with her blouse open to her naval, proud as a peacock at her achievement. She removed her blouse, and stood there in her bra. No panic! Okay, the ultimate test: She removed her bra. She stood there topless, and felt a panic attack consume her with a brutality she had rarely experienced.

Jamie fell to her knees and managed to crawl to the kitchen, to the cupboard where she kept her paper bags. She breathed into one, gasping for air, as she felt her heart was about to burst. She barely avoided the syringe and/or trip to the emergency room this time. That was close.

She concluded the meds still worked, but not nearly as well as Friday night, when not only did she get naked in public, but she let Mike ravish her, taking her rear entry, while up to eight men watched.

Remaining topless, she went to her bureau and dug out the dark brown small bottle of Dyrenatrene, the experimental meds, that Mike had given her. She took two. These pills had turned her into an exhibitionist slut. She did not like that, but she loved being rid of her gymnophobia, the medical term for her nudity phobia.

She needed to get out; she needed to distract herself.

Brunch! She would take herself out for a Sunday brunch. She needed a confidante. She needed someone besides her best friend Gloria; after all, it was Gloria who had arranged her date with Jason. If something strange was going on, as she suspected it was, then possibly Gloria was involved. That left only one person to whom she could confide: Her sister.

She called her sister Anna. No answer. She texted her: "I need to talk to someone. Meet me in the city for brunch? If not, I could come to Westchester?" Ten minutes later she got a reply. Anna was, by good fortune, in the city with her new boyfriend Paul, and they would meet her at a farm to table place in Tribeca in 30 minutes.

Jamie went for her jacket before realizing she was still topless. She smiled at her folly, and thought about what to wear. Her boobs were just too big to go braless to meet her sister and her sister's new boyfriend. Or were they? Yes, they were.

She wore her sexiest lace bra, that barely covered her nipples, and the only blouse she had that showed some cleavage. She never wore it, due to her phobia. Her sister had given it to her, in an optimistic fit of hope. It was silk, and it had a wonderful sheen to it.

She looked in the mirror. She looked sexy as hell. She leaned forward, and she could see half of her much too large and dark areolas, the parts her bra did not cover. She loved being able to dress this way. It was liberating to be rid of this phobia!

When she got to the brunch place, her sister and new boyfriend had already found a table. She quickly ordered a mimosa, so that she could face her sister's boyfriend Paul without panicking. The alcohol was supposed to help the pills to be effective.

One egg over easy, three small pecan pancakes, two strips of bacon, and two more mimosas later she had told her sister (and Paul, there was no escaping it), the whole sordid story of Jason and sex in the dark, her mild flashing in the hotel window which led to meeting Mike, and her outlandish date with Mike just two days ago.

When she got to the part where Mike undressed her in the park, she had to avoid Paul's now hungry eyes, as he looked at her. She had already seen him look down her blouse as she reached across the table for the salt for her eggs. Instead of this freaking her out, she felt proud of her sex appeal. Was she messed up, or what? she thought to herself.

Paul was her sister's new beau, but he was only looking, enjoying the scenery, right? That's what men do, and she for one would not have it any other way. Her sister Anna thought the same, she was fairly sure.

"Did you, he, you know..." Anna asked hesitantly.

Loud enough so that Paul could hear, Jamie said, "Yes. He took me, naked, rear entry, right there in the park. Probably my moans could be heard across the river in New Jersey."

Anna was speechless. She was trying to say, "Oh my God," but only warm air left her mouth.

"It gets worse," Jamie said.

"How could it?" Anna said. "You don't mean, the other men, the ones who were watching, joined -"

"No." Jamie cut her off before she said it. Jamie had not even thought of that! "But one of them was my primary boss, Mr. Mason."

"Jesus H. Christ," Anna said, and she appeared to be on the verge of holding her head in her hands.

Jamie decided to get it all out. "Mike then took me to his place and I gave him my virgin ass to deflower, too. I even provided the K-Y Jelly. Then I took a cab home, around 2am Friday night. I don't know how I can go to work tomorrow morning, you know?"

Jamie had been ignoring the presence of Paul, but he had been listening intently. He spoke for the first time, "I can help." That was all that he said, because words were tumbling out of the mouths of both Anna and Jamie, both at the same time.

Suddenly both women stopped talking and they both looked at Paul. They had both lost any awareness that they had discussed all of this right in front of him, with him sharing their brunch. Jamie sunk in her chair, wishing she could hide. Anna blushed a beet red.

Seizing the momentary silence, Paul continued, "This is way too full of coincidences for all of it to be simply by chance."

The women were silent, waiting for Paul to continue. He remained silent. Finally, Jamie said, "You know Paul, that's what I thought, too. It was weird Jason had a similar phobia to me, it was weird that Mike had those amazing pills right there at hand in his briefcase, and it was weird that Mr. Mason (my boss) would be out late at night at that park just by chance. All of this is amazingly weird."

Anna agreed, "Yes, you're right. I had not thought of that."

"Is there someone out to get you? Someone who knows of your phobia?" Paul asked.

"Most of the men in my law firm have dated me, and all of them have come away frustrated, of course, due to my phobia. And there are plenty of other men, too, in similar situations. Besides frustrated men, I run the secretarial pool, and I suppose that could breed resentments?" Jamie replied.

"Or it could be someone trying to help her?" Anna said. "Was Jason a blind date, set up by a friend?"

"Yes, he was. My best friend Gloria set it up," she said.

"Does Mike know Gloria, too?" Paul asked.

Jamie stared at Paul. "I don't know," she mumbled.

"I can help," Paul said again.

"How?" Jamie asked.

"Paul used to work for the FBI, the CIA, and the NSA," Anna said. Seeing the look of incredulity on Jamie's face, she quickly continued, "I know, I know, he's only 28. But it was a rotating program; two years in each. He did not like it, and now he combats industrial espionage for the private sector. He's very good, too," Anna added proudly.

"I'm sure I cannot afford you," Jamie said.

"You're Anna's sister. I'll work pro bono. That means for free," Paul said, now seeing the look of incredulity on Jamie's face.

"I'm a legal secretary, Paul. I am not a rocket scientist, but I know what "pro bono" means," Jamie said, flashing Paul her prettiest smile, and nervously running her tongue across her upper lip.

"If you were a rocket scientist, you would be the prettiest and sexiest rocket scientist on Earth," Paul said. Then he winced as Anna kicked him, hard, under the table.

Unfazed, Jamie replied in her most innocent voice, leaning forward as she did so to give Paul yet another look down her blouse, "You mean I'm not the prettiest and sexiest legal secretary on Earth?"

"You deserve that, you sexist pig," Anna said, smiling at Paul, who was now himself blushing. He was not really upset at having received another free look at Jamie's glorious boobs.

Jamie left the brunch much less anxious, even if she had not received any advice on how to behave at work. But just telling her sister, not being judged, and instead receiving love and admiration for her composure, helped a lot. In addition, Anna was thrilled she was beginning to battle her phobia. She even had achieved a breakthrough, of sorts.

The best thing for Jamie was that Anna loved her in the blouse she had given her several years ago. This was its maiden wearing. Paul did, too, but mostly because he got several great looks down her blouse, and he enjoyed gazing at such a pretty woman over lunch.

Not that Anna is not pretty. The sisters are cut from the same cloth. But Anna held no mystery for Paul. He had already explored every inch of her body, multiple times, and he had enjoyed every inch to the max. He could not wait to get her back to Westchester to continue his explorations/penetrations. After Jamie had related how Mike had taken her virgin ass, he was thinking it might be time for him to resume some spelunking himself, with the always willing and wonderful Anna.

The evening of that same Sunday, Jamie was sitting in her apartment naked, trying to see how long the effect of the pills could last. She was pleased: the pills were clearly working, and she could be naked. Sure, the blinds were down and she was not on display to anyone but herself, but before last Friday even that had not been possible.

She heard the buzzer. "Special messenger sent from Ms. Anna Cappiano," came the crackling voice over the intercom. She saw via the video feed that the messenger was wearing a proper uniform. She wondered: Do messengers work on Sunday nights? She buzzed him in, and then remembered she was naked.

She grabbed Anna's blouse and put it on. She did not have time to add a bottom, but the blouse was long. The elevator opens into her apartment, so suddenly the messenger was there, looking at Jamie while she was dressed only in a low cut blouse, which hopefully covered her privates, she was not sure. It would be clear there was no bra, so maybe her boobs would distract the messenger from her privates?

"I was getting ready for bed,' she said weakly.

The messenger smiled, joking, "Don't let me stop you, miss."

Jamie nodded at his joke, and then decided to have a little fun. "I appreciate that," she said. She turned around with her back to him, walked to her bedroom door and removed her top while walking, treating the messenger to her naked backside. Even from behind, he could see her boobs sticking out the sides of her body. He loved her smooth white perfect bubble butt. He got an instant erection.

Jamie, now naked, found the nightgown she had bought before her date with Mike, in case she had wanted to invite him back to her place to seduce him. Since they did the deed with her naked in a public park, the nightgown's sexy nature had been superfluous, and she had yet to wear it. She threw it on.

The black nightgown is very short, barely covering her privates, and has mesh between her boobs, revealing almost all of them, but hiding the nipples. She returned to the messenger, who was open mouthed and clearly had an erection under his pants. "Do I sign something?" she asked.

"Yes, please sign here. Also, I need some identification." Jamie got her purse, and bent over deeply, making a show of fishing through her purse, so that the messenger saw her pussy as she bent over. She smiled to herself. Then she gave him her driver's license.

He managed to say "Thank you, Ma'am." Jamie smiled at him licking her upper lip, and did a little curtsy. The curtsy allowed her nightshirt to gape just enough to show off all of her boobs for a brief minute.

"My pleasure. I did not know messengers work on Sunday nights," Jamie said.

"Oh yes," the messenger said. "It's a 24-hour service. Businesses often have urgent needs." Jamie gave him $5. She idly thought he himself may now have an urgent need, and a roll in the hay with her would be a tip he would never forget, but enough was enough. Jamie said thanks, with her tone of voice and body language signaling the show was over. The messenger left.

It was then that Jamie realized her apartment door had been wide open the entire time. Her neighbor Sam was standing in his doorway across the hall. How much had he seen? Jamie blushed, but smiled a brilliant smile at him, her automatic procedure at awkward times.

Sam smiled and walked over to her. Jamie wanted to slam the door in his face, but he was her neighbor, she could not do that. "I'm doing some late-night baking," Sam said. "Could you lend me some butter?"

Relieved, and not realizing this was a ruse, Jamie relaxed and said, "Yes, of course. Come on in, I'll just be minute in the kitchen to fetch some."

Sam came in. Jamie returned with the butter. Sam took it and smiled. "Thanks. By the way, could I have a show like you gave the messenger?"

"Show? What do you mean?" Jamie said.

"How about you show me what you're wearing under that wonderful nightgown?" Sam asked. "I guess I'm more important than just a lowly messenger, don't you think."

Jamie collapsed into a chair, holding her head in her hands. "Why do I have to be punished for anything playful I do," she said to herself.

In reality, Jamie realized that Sam presented a golden opportunity to test just how effective the pills were right now. She was "worried" that Friday night with her exhibitionist outdoor sex with Mike was a fluke. With Sam, her harmless dorky neighbor, she could test her limits with minimal risk. But she had to play it right: reluctance was key.

"I can punish you if you want," Sam said. "But all I really need is a good look at your naked body, and then I'll be on my way."

"This is not a good idea, Sam. We're neighbors. I can't exhibit myself to you. You should go read a magazine or google naked women or something," Jamie said.