Hacker’s Punishment Continued
by MOF

Part 4

This story is a continuation of B.H. Paulson’s “Hacker’s Punishment.” When I read Mr. Paulson’s story I got a kick out of it. I was disappointed, though, that it ended after the sixth task so I thought that I’d try to finish the story. Mr. Paulson made this difficult by leaving poor Melanie totally humiliated and she still had six tasks to go. The problem is how do I create six more tasks, each increasingly more difficult and humiliating, without getting Melanie arrested?

If this story is going to make any sense you should read “Hacker’s Punishment” under B.H. Paulson’s name in the “Enforced Nudity Section.”

Chapter 5 Melanie’s Ninth Post to Leviticus

So now my two best friends know my secrets, or at least some of them. They know about Levi but they don’t know about the rest of you assholes. They know I fucked up but they don’t how. And, of course, they know I’m naked.

This morning when I arrived at work I had the usual butterflies in my stomach. I had spent the whole previous day in my office entirely naked while David and Zeke wandered in on a regular basis to check me out. But it’s not something that you get used to. If everybody was naked then I might get used to it, but that’s not the way it is. I’m the only one who’s naked.. I’m the only one who’s getting my boobs and ass and every thing else checked out and evaluated. I’m the one who’s on display for the enjoyment of two horny men, one of whom happens to be the guy that I work for. So that explains the butterflies. And this is something I’m going to have to go through every morning until I get this damn task shit done with. So let’s get on with it, Levi.

At any rate I entered the offices like a normal person and said good morning to David and Zeke and every one else like a normal person and then I entered my private office, closed the door and stripped naked. Not so normal.

The routine was pretty much the same as the previous day. There was a huge increase in requests for files. I can’t imagine why. Zeke got pretty creative when he began requesting files for non-existent customers. As he watched I checked here, there, and everywhere, searching and showing off my very visible body parts. Then he’d apologize. He got the name wrong or some such thing. I wonder if he really thought I was buying his nonsense.

I had gotten into the habit of bringing my personal computer to work. I didn’t want any more emails on the company network. Levi said not to worry but I wasn’t too sure. When I checked it for emails there were several. The first was from Katy.

Hey Mel. I still can’t believe it. Are you naked now? I try to imagine me sitting here at my desk without anything on. I just couldn’t do it. Any new tasks? Call me when you get a chance. By the way, you look great. All of you. Luv ya, Katy

Oh well, At least I got a complement. Next came Jen’s email:

I’m still trying to absorb everything. I just can’t imagine what it’s like being naked all the time. You must be aware of yourself, your body, all the time.

Self-awareness. Where did I hear that before?

Did you hear from Levi, yet? I’ve been thinking about him. To know everything he knows about you and seeing you at work and everything he’s had to break some laws, too. If he turns you in he could get into some trouble himself. If you ever think that his “tasks” get too extreme you might be in a position to do some negotiating.

You hear that, Levi? Let’s get this damn thing over with so I can get on with my life. Please!

Katy said that you were very brave but I don’t know about that. You’re simply doing something that you have to do. But you are very beautiful while you’re doing it. And I know that it has to be terribly difficult and I love you for doing it.

Huh? What’s she trying to say? This might be a good time to say a few words about Jen before I move on to Levi’s email.

First of all, Jen’s smart. Real smart. She edits term papers for masters and doctoral students for a living and has even done some editing for professional writers. She doesn’t get rich doing it but she says she enjoys it and manages to get by.

We’ve been best friends since high school but there has always been a part of her that’s been tough to know. She doesn’t like to open up to people, even me and Katy. In high school we dated and had some good times. We both lost our virginity the night of our senior prom and we liked to joke about it. We went to different colleges but we kept in touch and we both wound up in this little burg that we live in now. We’re still best friends and see each other all the time but she sort of fell out of the dating scene. Considering some of the things she’s said maybe you can see where this is going. I don’t know why I’m telling you perverts all of this. I guess I’m trying to sort it out and writing about it for a bunch of morons is as good of a way as any.

Moving on. Levi’s email.

Dear Melanie,

I enjoyed last night’s post. It sounds like you had a wonderful dinner party and it’s always a good idea to bare all (aren’t I the clever one) before your friends. I’ll bet it feels good to be one task closer, doesn’t it? Just four more.

But before we talk about additional tasks I’m afraid that you’ve broken a rule and for that you must suffer the consequences. Your rules said specifically that if you stopped for a chore on the way home from work you were to remove an article of clothing but you failed to do that when you stopped at the store yesterday.

All I had on were shoes, skirt and blouse. The stores say “no shirt, no shoes, no service.” What the hell was I supposed to do. Go in with my ass hanging out? Fuck you, Levi!

I’ll tell you now about your punishment for this infraction and will tell you about you next task later. The punishment is really very simple. All I want you to do is walk to the strip mall near your house and go into the diner and order a salad for your dinner (you have to watch your weight.) Eat your salad in the diner and then for a treat walk to the ice cream store at the end of the mall and order a cone. I know you’re thinking I’ll want you to do this naked but that would be unreasonable. Once you’re off your street you may wear some clothes. Specifically, a white cotton t-shirt, white shorts and flip-flops. Now that is not a difficult punishment. Don’t you feel sorry for all those nasty things you say to me? One more thing. It appears that it might rain this evening. I consider an umbrella to be an article of clothing. Oh, and another thing. It occurred to me that you might not have the appropriate clothes so I’m supplying them for you. You’ll find them in a bag by your door when you get home. Not to worry though. Unlike your “whore clothes” these fit. One more thing. I don’t want to see any modesty like crossing your arms in front of you. Let’s keep those arms by your side whenever possible. Enjoy your dinner.

Love, Levi.

Light rain? It’s supposed to pour. White t-shirt? I get it, already. Thin cotton. The kind that sticks like saran wrap when wet. Wet t-shirt time. Oh well. How bad could it be?

My day at work proceeded as you’d expect. Except for lunch and potty breaks I was naked and on display. Because of my supposed extra marketing duties I worked through the morning and afternoon breaks. Zeke and Robert were kind enough to come in and keep me company, though. Ha!

When the day was over the rain had begun. I turned down umbrella offers from my fellow employees as I ran for the car. I’m sure they all think I’m crazy and as a result I can get away with eccentric behavior. By the time I got to the car I was soaked through. And the rain was supposed to get worse.

When I got to my strip spot on the drive home it was almost a relief to get out of my wet clothes. Once inside the house I checked the front door and found the bag of clothes supplied by Levi. They were small but didn’t appear too bad. Naturally, I couldn’t try them on. As I expected, the material was thin, even the shorts. I stuffed the clothes back in the bag and threw in my flip-flops and a change purse that contained money for my dinner.

It was 5:30 and I wanted to get this stupid “punishment” over. Dinner time. I opened the door and checked for traffic. It was raining hard now and there was little chance of pedestrians. The rain even offered some protection from the cars. The coast looked clear so I grabbed my bag and bolted. I had to make it past the vacant lot next to my house, an occupied house, and another vacant lot. That lot had little vegetation. Then I hit an intersecting street. Once I got to it I was off my street and could dress. I simply stood in the rain and put my clothes on, hoping no one was looking. I left the clothes bag by the sidewalk and, clutching my change purse, headed off for the diner.

The rain had plastered my clothes to me like a second skin. I looked down at my breasts and the wet and the cold had my nipples standing out like marbles. I could even see my brown areolas through the thin cotton. But it got worse. Looking down at my shorts my black pubic patch was also visible through the cotton. Wet, cold, miserable and for all practical purposes naked I made the fifteen minute walk to the diner.

When I got to the place I could see several customers inside eating and a waitress/cook behind the counter. She had a sharp face, stringy hair underneath her hair net, and a generally miserable look about her. I screwed up my courage, and as I opened the door every face in the place swiveled in my direction. I was frozen in place as their eyes checked out my nipples and my pubic patch. I was soaked and the water was dripping off me and puddling at my feet. I came to and walked to the counter with my flip flops squishing with each step. Even with all of the nudity that I had suffered through the past several weeks I don’t think that I once felt more exposed than I did at that moment. The waitress/cook looked at me with red rimmed eyes. On her not so clean apron she had a name tag that read. Agnes.

I made my order. “May I, uh, have a toss salad with, uh, ranch dressing, please?”

She just stared. I pulled a five dollar bill out of my change purse and tentatively put it on the counter. The water continued dripping off me, further watering the floor.

“Please?” I asked.

Without a word she went to the cooler and pulled out a prepared salad with wilted lettuce. I could hear two of the customers talking about me.

“I can’t believe it,” the girl giggled. “She looks naked.”

“A naked slut,” responded her male companion.

I paid for my so-called salad and squished my way to a table. Behind me was a trail of water and two larger puddles where I had stood. As I ate Agnes went to the back and returned with a mop and bucket. These she placed beside me and said, “You can mop up after yourself before you leave.”

Great. A little more humiliation. Agnes just talked herself out of a tip. I gobbled down half my salad and stared for a minute at the mop. Fuck. I thought to myself that I may as well get it over with. Resignedly I got up and started mopping. The other customers found this so amusing that they laughed out loud. A new degree of humiliation. When I had finished she pointed to the back corner where she got the mop and bucket. Carrying the two I returned them as the customers stared and giggled. I can’t blame them. I was a sight. I was soaked through and my lack of underwear was obvious. My short stay in the diner had hardly dried me at all. My nipples still arrogantly poked against the cotton t-shirt and my pubic hairs continued to be visible under my white shorts. Levi had chosen my wardrobe well.

I headed for the door. As I opened it I impulsively turned and did a pseudo pose, hips twisted, arms spread and a silly smile. Then I left. As the door closed behind me I heard words like crazy, slut and I think I even heard cunt. Fuck ‘em.

The rain was even worse than before. Cold, wet and miserable I walked to the opposite end of the mall where there was an ice cream parlor. Who in their right mind would buy an ice cream cone on a day like this? Me. That’s who. The only person in the place was a pimply faced kid behind the counter. I sloshed in and went directly to the counter as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“One small vanilla cone, please,” I said.

He just stared. First he stared at my wet face with my wet hair plastered on top. Then he stared at my boobs and their prominently displayed nipples. Finally he checked out what he could see of my black pubic hairs not so well hidden under my shorts. His eyes returned to my face.

“Huh?” he said.

I repeated my order but he still didn’t get it.

“You're all wet,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s raining out. May I have a small vanilla cone, please?”

He did a second check of my nipples. Apparently they were okay with him and his eyes returned to my face.

“Do you want to go out?” he asked. “Like on a date?”

I couldn’t decide if I should be pissed at him or feel sorry for him. I slapped two bucks on the counter and said, “No. All I want is a fucking vanilla ice cream cone. If you can tear you eyes off my nipples for five minutes do you think maybe you could get me one?”

“Oh. Sure,” he said. I got my cone and started out the door. The last thing I heard was, “Are you sure you don’t want to go out?”

I threw my cone in the gutter and started home. Every so often I’d glance down at my nipples. 'What’s the big fucking deal,' I thought to myself. They’re just nipples. Everybody has them. Men have them and you don’t see us girls going bonkers about them like men do over ours. I mean I think guy’s nipples are kind of cute and everything but if I saw a guy in a wet t-shirt I wouldn’t stare at his nipples. Dogs have nipples and cats have nipples and every god damn animal there is has nipples so what’s the big fucking deal about my nipples? Look at the nipples on a cow. Now those are nipples. But I don’t see anyone salivating over those nipples. I’ll bet even the bull couldn’t care squat about a cow's nipples.

As I was thinking about my nipples I wasn’t paying attention to the road and at the last minute I saw a car bearing down on me. A police car! If a cop stopped me I was toast. I took off down a side street with my heart in my throat. For better speed I ditched my flip flops. Barefoot I dodged into a wooded lot and through the mud, the sticks and the stones. Ouch, ouch, ouch. I came out on a parallel street and looked. No cop car. In addition to being cold, wet, miserable and barefoot I now had scratches covering my arms and legs. The whole ordeal was getting too much. I began crying as I trudged along. Cars passed but no cops. Some slowed and stared but kept moving.

Walking by a house an old lady called to me from her door. “Are you all right, dear? Can I lend you an umbrella?”

“No than you,” I replied. “I’m already wet.” One last humiliation.

I finally reached my bag and stripped naked. I left the clothes and the bag lying in the mud and, clutching my change purse, ran for home. Since I was wet and dirty I didn’t want to use the front door and make a mess. I couldn’t blame the old crone at the diner for handing me the mop. Entering through the garage I made it into the kitchen and collapsed. All this and I hadn’t even completed a task. Just punishment. Fuck you, Levi.

It was 6:30. Except for half of a crummy salad I hadn’t had anything to eat. I made a sandwich, ate that and entered the living room for my exercises. I couldn’t believe it. My two fans were standing on the sidewalk under a golf umbrella. You’d think they’d get tired of my boobs and nipples and snatch and butt hole. I simply can’t understand the male capacity for our female body parts.

I entertained them for a half hour and now I’m entertaining a bunch of Internet perverts. Now that I’m done with this I plan on getting into bed, piling on an extra blanket, and getting warm.


Chapter 6 Melanie’s Tenth Post to Leviticus

Last night after writing my post for the community of Internet jerk-offs I crawled into bed, got warm and slept like a log. This morning I checked my computer for emails and found nothing.

You already know what my day was like. Naked at home, naked in the car and naked at work. The usual interruptions from Zeke and Robert. My skin could not have been more thoroughly inspected by a dermatologist.

On the way home I stopped for gas. This time I knew the rules. I felt like an idiot standing at the pump with my too short skirt, peek-a-boo blouse and barefoot. The pavement felt hot and gritty under my feet.

The weather had turned nice again and I had my naked dinner on my patio. If my neighbors saw me did it really matter?

After dinner the doorbell rang. It didn’t happen often but when it did my heart raced and my adrenalin surged. So far there was only a Mormon kid, a window salesman, and my friends the other night. One night I ordered a pizza. When I tried to tip the guy he smiled and said it wasn’t necessary. But tonight when I opened the door I was the one surprised. It was Jack. My ex. The one who got me into this mess.

I stared and he said, “Hi.”

I stared some more and finally said, “Jack.” So far a scintillating conversation.

He said, “You look great, Mel. Better than I remembered.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

He knew what I looked like naked. We had what you’d call a relationship. Actually, I liked Jack very much and I was sorry things went south. I missed him.

“Are you going to let me in?” he asked.

I stepped aside and let him in. We sat in my living room across from each other. I was pretty safe from prying eyes. People just don’t spend that much time looking in windows.

“So I suppose you’ve been reading all about me on that idiot Leviticus site?”

“Yeah. It’s been pretty entertaining. But, seriously, I feel bad about some of the stuff you had to go through. I want you to know that I had nothing to do with any of this.”

“I know. What about that girl I saw you with?”

“I thought you already had that figured out. She’s my cousin. There was nothing to it. It’s good to see you again.” He laughed. “You know what I mean. No pun intended. But, actually, you do look great. All this naked stuff has given you a great all-over tan. And I think your exercising is helping.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Speaking of that I’ve got to do them pretty soon. My fan club’s already showed up.”

On my front lawn the two boys were sitting and staring at me through the window.

“So I see,” he said. “Those are two lucky kids. You’re lucky they never spread the word. You’d have to put up bleachers. Do you mind if I stay?”

“No I guess not.”

I wasn’t too sure I wanted to display myself that way for him. It wasn’t the same as doing it for Katy and Jen. And as for the strangers in the street.. Well, I had to show them my body. But for Jack it seemed... I don’t know. Maybe more lascivious or something. But I said yes and I got up and began my exercises.

As I went through my routine he never said anything but I could feel his eyes on my body. Being naked in front of Jack and wantonly display myself was embarrassing and humiliating. But that wasn’t all. It was erotic. I knew that I had to be arousing him and that fact aroused me also.

When I was finished I left the room. It was the only way I could get my adolescent audience to leave. Out on the patio I sat with my arms and legs spread letting the air cool my tired body. Jack joined me. He sat looking at me while I was so obviously displaying my charms. I suspect that my arousal showed. I know his showed.

“You know, Mel, I was - am - in love with you. I didn’t take our break-up well. I’m really hoping we can get back together. Is there a chance?”

“I was never too sure where our relationship was going, Jack. I like you very much. Do I love you? Just don’t know. I need more time. But as for getting back together... I’m sure you mean it. But I suspect what you really want right now is to get laid. Am I right?”

Jack smiled. We always understood each other pretty well. I stood, took his hand and led him to the bedroom. We had a wonderful time and now I’m sitting here in my altogether writing my daily post. If you perverts think you’re going to get any details I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.


End of part 4

Copyright© 2015 by MOF. All rights reserved. If you have any comments I’d enjoy hearing them. After my last post I wasn’t sure I’d continue but all it took was one positive email. Thanks. Email me at mofwriter@fastmail.fm Note the '.fm', not '.com'.