Summary: The US Olympic gymnastics team plays catch-up to the rest of the world with near nude competition, only some have a harder time adjusting to the embarrassment than others.
Keywords: humiliation, exhibitionism, voyeurism
The following is adult fiction intended for legally mature
adults to view at their discretion, where and when it is legal to do so.
Similarity to persons, living or dead is coincidence. The author reserves
all rights. Permission is granted to archive in places where adults can
legally view it free of charge, and as long as no words are changed,
including this disclaimer.
"How about that decision listeners" the three o'clock alarm went off. "I for one will now call women's gymnastics my favorite sport, unless skaters start doing the same thing."
"Oh god," Libby bemoaned, "why can't everybody just give it a rest?" Libby got up, put on her workout clothes, and went down stairs to meet her sponsor in the hallway for the ride to the Center.
"What's this?" Mrs. Woodcock said acting disappointed.
"What's what?" Libby responded confused.
"You're dressed."
"Yes, in my workout clothes. It's time to go to the gym." Libby explained.
"I can't believe you would violate your coach's first rule and right before going to class."
"But, I'm ready to go out the door. It's time for my workout and these are my workout clothes." Libby explained.
"The instructions from Monika Solheim specifically said that you are to wear nothing more than underpants while you are in the house regardless of the circumstances or who may be present. I think we should step up the desensitization or you may never be properly prepared for competition."
"No Ma'am. Please. I guess I didn't fully understand the instructions."
"We'll see. You are not to be late so we need to go. We'll discuss what to do about helping this sink in after practice."
"Okay." Libby said meekly, wondering what could be worse than it already had been.
When they got there, the Center was open and her teammates were already inside. It seemed the custodian was a little more on the ball or was a little more eager this day and got the place open early. The girls exchanged reactions to their assignments from yesterday and the boys generally joked about it. When the coaching assistants arrived they had what appeared to be knowing smiles but did not engage any of the students in conversation. When Coach Monika arrived all conversation stopped and everyone obediently moved to the regular section of the bleachers for a briefing before training.
"Stop!" She exclaimed. "What do you think you are doing?"
Everyone looked puzzled.
"What is with all of these workout clothes?"
Nobody dared answer.
"We have a lot of work to do, and I'm not speaking about training for your art. I'm talking about getting comfortable being nearly nude in front of anybody who might happen to see you. Sit."
The collective daze was broken for an instant while everyone took a seat.
"In Europe people grow up feeling natural about nudity, at least more so than here. They have been cleaning up in competitions for years even though we have had the talent to win. We have to get you all completely comfortable about performing naked in front of large in-person audiences and by cameras all over the world just to have your talent and hard work get an even chance against theirs. If you don't want to be champions just get up and leave and make room for those that do."
Everyone looked around at each other but nobody left.
"Okay, now take off your clothes. I mean every stitch this time. The last one with anything on will have to step forward and do my bidding."
Clothes flew off of bodies and got mixed up or fell down under the bleachers.
When everyone was totally nude, coach Monika asked Gretchen to come forward. Gretchen wanted to protest because she wasn't the last one, but thought the better of making a scene. "And I'll have Thomas come forward." "Me?" Thomas said stepping down from the bleachers holding his genitals ostensibly for support, but actually to hide them from view.
"Today I have the costumes you are going to compete in." She shook out a sheer leotard and then handed it to her assistant Rachel to hold up. Then she shook out a deeper cut version and told Thomas he could try it on. "Now these are copies of the team uniforms to be used for practices so you will be more comfortable in the real thing during competition.
Thomas was thankful he could step into something that would be more coverage than his hand. What he found was a completely sheer, body hugging weightlifter's type uniform scooped down in front, on the sides, and in the back. The suit acted like a jockstrap by hugging his cock and balls up and out behind a form fitting opaque stretch nylon patch.
"This," coach Monika explained, "is a leap ahead of the other male competitors' uniforms as you can see, but we need to get noticed again on the world stage. There can't be any complaints by the judges because these are designed to view the musculature just fine."
"And everything else about him." Teammate Jill said to Libby, nudging her with her elbow.
"Ah, Jill. Why don't you come down here and join Gretchen for this next presentation?" Coach Monika requested.
Jill came down and stood sheepishly with her hands clasped in front of her pubic area.
"Okay girls. This is what you are going to be wearing." She gave one uniform to Gretchen and the other to Jill. The girls pulled on the completely transparent, body-hugging leotards, only Jill's didn't come up far enough to cover her breasts. She felt suddenly exposed even though she was totally naked just moments before. She tried to will her erect nipples to calm down but she couldn't. The costumes had a nylon modesty panel along the crotches, but no padding so the relative puffiness of their vulvas was completely on display.
"As you can see girls, these will meet or surpass what you have seen on the floor by any other teams, For those of you who choose to leave your breasts free like Jill here, you'll probably get higher marks for the courage of doing so, but the bigger breasts like Jill's here," coach Monika continued and surprised Jill by hefting her breast in front of her teammates, "the sooner you will lose your perk in them if you allow them to flounce around.
It will be your choice which costume you wear during the competitions, the one Jill is modeling or the one Gretchen is modeling."
"You've got to be kidding." Libby said incredulously to herself. "I can't be seen by the world in something like that. The other teams at least have bottoms that cover them like full underwear. These are downright scandalous."
"Are you sure these will be accepted by the Olympic governing body? They really don't cover anything." Libby said to her coach.
"Come down here and try yours on. They have already been run past the powers that be and we'll be fine. We'll be more than fine. This year, boys and girls, is our year."
With that everyone came down and grabbed a costume to wear. Only one covered the breasts and that was the one Gretchen was wearing and she needed the support the least of all the girls. The chatter went up as they each commented on them pro and con. Meanwhile, some people were setting up some equipment off to the side.
"Okay everyone. It looks like we were long on one style and short on the other. We'll take care of that tomorrow. Now that you have a uniform, we are going to gather for some team and individual photos." Coach Monika directed.
Very few of the competitors were comfortable with their nudity in this short period of time. They were just starting to feel comfortable around members of their households and their teammates in class. Now they were faced with having a permanent record by posing their naked developed bodies in front of cameras for all time and everyone to see. They were gathered up into a group. The boys tried to hide behind the girls, but the girls in front of each boy were asked to kneel down on one knee.
When the group shots were finished, they were broken off into smaller groups for individual publicity shots. The girls were made to leap into arabesques, hang from uneven bars, stick landings, and such for publicity photos in each of their events. Libby found that this stimulated her like the events of the day before and hoped she would have enough time before school to take care of it.
Not much in the way of practice happened as the whole time was taken up with publicity duties. When the students were ready to leave, Coach Monika asked to speak to the parents and sponsors who were present to drive their competitors home. The students waited in their respective cars while their coach met with them.
"Okay then." Mrs. Woodcock said as she fastened her seatbelt. "How was your workout today?"
"It wasn't really a workout. We got our new costumes and had publicity photos taken."
"I know. So what did you think?"
"About what?"
"The costumes, the attention, everything."
"I'm trying to be excited, but..."
"But what Dear?"
"It's just that those costumes, well I can't see America's grandmothers sitting around the TV watching us go through our routines without having a hissy fit."
"So you think older people are too prudish to keep up with the times?"
"No, well, I guess so. Didn't you see what we are going to wear in competition?"
"Yes I did. And I think the rest of the world better watch out when you pretty girls do your stuff."
"Thank you Mrs. Woodcock." Libby acknowledged but felt a rising sensation in her groin and in her sensitive nipples just grazing the lining of her windbreaker with each bounce the car made. "So, what did you and Coach talk about after the session?"
"We talked about what kind of progress we thought she might see within a couple of days. She mentioned that she felt you and maybe Jill and a couple of others may need to play a little catch up to start feeling as comfortable as the rest are now."
"But it's only been one day."
"Yes, but with the right attitude, it shouldn't even have to take a day. The goal should be competing and winning. What you have to do to win, as long as it isn't illegal or fattening, should be welcomed by the most serious of competitors."
"She thinks I have an attitude problem?"
"I guess you could say that. She doesn't think you are embracing this new tactic with as much energy as some of the others. She thought that maybe there would be some additional things I could do with you like Jill's sponsor will be doing with her."
Libby gulped. "Like what?"
"Like having friends and neighbors over. We could consider it a 'coming out party’."
‘Oh god.’ Libby thought in silence.
"One way or another, you'll need to be completely comfortable with your body in front of strangers so you can get on about the practice of being the best at your craft. And the sooner you get over this hump, the sooner you can get back on track for Worlds."
Libby sat stunned. She thought there would be more time, more time to adjust. But the people controlling her progress were expecting her to turn on a switch and be a new person just like that. ‘Maybe I don't have what it takes to be a champion.’ She thought, and then tried to erase the negative thought as she had been taught to do.
When they got home she was deep in thought as she started to enter the house.
"Ah hem. We really are going to have to up the dosage here." Mrs. Woodcock scolded.
Mrs., Woodcock went inside and closed the door. "Your clothes through the slot first please." She said to Libby through the door. Libby squeezed the workout clothes she had under her arm through the mail slot first. Then she took off her jacket and slid it through waiting for the door to open. The training costume did nothing to ward off the nippy chill of the early morning. She rubbed her hands together and padded in place thinking Mrs. Woodcock was picking up the clothes and folding them first. As cars would go by they would slow down and honk or holler. She didn't dare turn around to have eye contact with any of them.
Finally she called out, "Please let me in; I'm freezing out here."
"Not everything has come through the slot yet, Dear."
"Oh god," she said as she peeled the leotard off. "What difference does it make really?" She realized. "It makes me look naked to them already." And then she slid the last covering through the slot. A good minute later she was let in.
"I'm fixing you some hot chocolate."
"That sounds good. I'm just going to go upstairs and get some underwear."
"No, I don't think that would be a good idea."
Libby looked at her worried.
"I think we should amend it to be no covering of any kind while in the house. That is just until you feel completely comfortable with your nakedness around people. Don't you think?"
Libby considered the talk in the car, how her attitude was being viewed, and thought better than to argue.
"Okay then." Mrs. Woodcock said as she handed Libby the cup of cocoa.
"Another idea Monika had for those of you that are reticent about the changes is to exaggerate the discomfort so that the normal situation will seem easier."
Libby stopped sipping and looked up at her sponsor waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Monika is going to tell both the boys and you girls tomorrow that you should rid yourselves of pubic hair until after the competitions, because any signs of hair sticking out of the modesty patches will detract from the artistry of your bodies and draw the wrong kind of attention to you. I think it is a good idea for another reason."
"What's that?"
"Monika also suggested that we do things that will have you more conscious of your nudity to help the desensitization process."
Libby looked apprehensive.
"I think we should go upstairs and shave you now."
Libby gulped.
"I'll help you. Then when we are through, we'll find some heels you can wear to enhance your femininity."
"Heels?"
"Just in the house for now."
Libby took her time finishing her cocoa while Mrs. Woodcock stood by patiently. Finally she joined Mrs. Woodcock in the master bathroom. It was the first time she had been in it since she was given a tour of the house when she first arrived. It made the embarrassing process she was about to go through seem special in a way.
"Sit back here," Mrs. Woodcock instructed, "while I clip away what we can >with scissors. Then we'll lather you up and carefully shave off the rest."
Libby whinnied for a moment of anticipation.
"Don't worry, I'll be very careful."
"Yes Ma'am."
Libby's head felt feverish; her nipples pained from engorgement and she worried that Mrs. Woodcock might see what felt like a river flowing from her twat.
"There," Mrs. Woodcock declared as she stroked Libby's vulva against the grain of where a young bush of hair once grew. "You feel." She said as she kept stroking until Libby replaced her hand with her own. Libby started to moan. "See how smooth it is?" Libby groaned again. "Let me feel it once more." Mrs. Woodcock took over the stroking again. "Oh missed a spot." Then she took the razor to a slightly rough spot and went back to checking for smoothness. "I think I have everything. You check again." Libby took control back and stroked her pussy as if looking for missed spots but couldn't help keeping a finger on her clitoris. Then came unexpected convulsing and utterances, which she was embarrassed herself to hear, and with momentary abandon she stroked fast and furious for several seconds until she climaxed in front of her sponsor.
"Oh? Oh? Oh my god. I'm so embarrassed." Libby exclaimed wide-eyed and totally humiliated by what had just happened.
"Oh Dear, think nothing of it." Mrs. Woodcock said as she embraced Libby's nude limp form into her own body. "It was only a natural response to the attention we gave your body there. You see? This is what we need to help you with, feeling completely natural about your body. When you can do something like that in front of strangers, you can perform your routines in the team costume and not be distracted by anything about it. You'll be able to perform to your talents and we will all be admiring it beyond your wildest dreams."
Libby listened to the tone and sincerity of what her sponsor was saying more than the content and started to pull herself together.
"Now let me help you get dressed for school."
Libby thought that strange, but was too drained to protest.
"Take your shower and I'll find some things for you."
"Yes Ma'am."
Libby stood on the toilet to see what she looked like between her legs in the mirror. She thought about how she wanted the hair to grow in when she was younger and now it was back to looking like it did then. The more she looked though, the more she liked the cleaner look. In the shower she basked in the falling water massage. By the time she washed her crotch she had momentarily forgotten about the fact she had no hair there. She started to get into the feel and decided that one climax that morning would be enough and stopped.
When she came out of the bathroom, Mrs. Woodcock was waiting with lightweight clothes that were a half a season too early. "Now, before we put these on downstairs in the hall, I want to cover one more thing."
Libby stood with her hands folded in front of her pubis and most of her weight on one leg.
"I think we need to have you stand for attention."
"Like this?" Libby said as she tried to show her cooperation.
"No, not 'at attention', for the attention your beautiful body should be getting."
Libby relaxed a minute while Mrs. Woodcock approached. She gently kicked Libby's feet about shoulder width apart, crouched down and turned her toes out on forty-five degree angles, put her hands on Libby's shoulders to bring them back and scooped Libby's hands around to the back and placed each palm on a butt cheek.
"There. I want you to stand like that anytime you are not serving someone or shaking their hands. Soak in the admiration they are going to have for your beauty and let it pass into you for inner strength that you will use when you need to perform. What do you think?"
"Ah, it's all new to me." Libby said not wanting to commit to a real answer.
"Yes it is. Leave it to me. We will get you ready in time so Monika will keep you on the team. Now, if you are ready to go, I'll meet you downstairs in the hall and you can get dressed."
Libby wasn't used to the new routine yet, so she gathered her school things and followed her sponsor to the front door. When she took the clothes, she couldn't find any under things. Mrs. Woodcock could tell the next question coming and said, "Try it this way today. It will help you be more conscious of your body and give you an opportunity to adjust to the attention a beautiful body like yours naturally attracts."
Despite the potential for embarrassing moments at school, Libby was feeling more and more comfortable leaving this program in her sponsor's hands. She put on the translucent white sleeveless blouse and short flaring lemon yellow skirt with some naughty excitement. A gust of wind, following her up some stairs, bending at the waist to pick something up and her secret would get out. Any glimpse from the side into the armholes of her blouse would confirm to anyone that they were really seeing what they thought they were seeing under it.
When her shoes and windbreaker were on, Mrs. Woodcock offered, "Would you like me to drive you today?"
"Yes that would be nice. Thank you."
As she was dropped off Mrs. Woodcock reminded, "It won't do you any good if you leave your jacket on all day. Would you like me to take it back for you?"
"Ah... Ah..."
"Here, let me take it back for you. You can jog home to stay warm." Her sponsor said as she helped remove the windbreaker from Libby's shoulders.
During the day Libby found it hard to concentrate on her school subjects.
In a private moment in the bathroom she had the realization that this was just the distraction she would have to experience to get over her inhibitions in order to reach her personal and the nation's goals for herself, her teammates, and her country. The worst part was the doubt that she would be able to do it in time to stay on the team and contribute.
Between classes it was easy to break off the conversations the boys were trying to have with her, but the end of the day was a different matter. A couple of students recognized her from a competition on TV and she was mobbed by their questions and well wishes. She was trapped. She couldn't move until enough of them were satisfied that they would create a gap for her to move through. Then Mike came to the rescue.
"Need someone to walk you home?"
"Hi Mike. Thanks for rescuing me. No, I think I'm just going to jog home to stay warm."
"I should say. That is quite an outfit you are wearing today."
Libby blushed.
"At least you are wearing an outfit today."
"Mike! Not here. Please."
"What's up with that anyway?"
"Mike, I've got to go. Can I tell you about it another time?"
"I haven't been able to think about anything but you since yesterday. You are so beautiful... and talented of course."
"Okay, jog with me a little ways."
"Cool."
Libby didn't see him wave along some buddies laying back.
Mike held his book bag as well as Libby's as they jogged. He tried to see bounce in her blouse, but Libby's firm half grapefruit sized breasts did not cooperate with his efforts. He was treated though to her hard nipples poking through the material pushed against her by the wind. A block from her house she stopped and asked for her book bag back.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Mike asked with a sad puppy dog face.
"I can't, not today."
The troop then caught up with them. "Hey Mike, are we in?" One of them asked.
"Hey guys not today, right Libby?"
"Right, I've got to go. Thanks for carrying my bag."
"How about a peek then?"
"A what?"
"You know a Mardi Gras flash. For old times sake."
"Old times sake!?"
"Yeah, how 'bout it?"
"I don't think so, apparently you're not the kind of guy I thought you were. Good bye." She said in a huff and left.
Mike caught up with her again. "How about just I go in, snap a few pictures, and leave. These old boys will never believe me that you flashed me your tits yesterday."
"No pictures. It is different today from yesterday."
"How do you mean?"
"I'll tell you some day."
Mike grabbed her arm and turned her back around. "Hey you owe me. I rescued you today, remember?"
"Wait here. Let me see if my sponsor is home. If she isn't I can't get in anyway."
"Okay."
"If you come around before I come back and get you, then the deal is off. Understand?"
"Okay, got it."
Libby proceeded on to the house. The good news was that Mrs. Woodcock's car was there so she would be able to get into the house. The bad news was that she would be able to get into the house. She looked around for any cars, Mike or his pals and took off her blouse and then fed it through the mail slot. Next, she let down her skirt and fed it through the door. She looked again and then remembered she needed to let Mrs. Woodcock know she was there, so she rang the doorbell and knocked. When that didn't bring her to the door, she rang, knocked and called out her name.
She was so intent on getting in that she didn't realize Mike and his buddies had snuck up around behind her. She turned in surprise and tried to cover her breasts and freshly denuded pussy. "Mike! Go away! This isn't fair."
"Fair? What's not fair about it? You're the one who took off all of her clothes. We didn't force you. We are just here to appreciate it."
"Go away, please!" She implored them.
"Not until you let me take a picture." Mike offered.
"No I can't."
He aimed. She put the hand from her breasts up to block the lens while she looked away and then Mrs. Woodcock appeared out of nowhere.
"Hi boys."
Mike put the camera away.
"Hey Libby. Is this anyway to greet our guests? Why don't you stand for attention like we discussed?"
Libby slowly unwound her cover and stood up straight trying to look proud, but couldn't look any of them in the face. If she had, she would have seen them with eyes bulging out of their sockets.
"Okay Boys. Get enough of what you came for?"
"Yes Mrs. Woodcock." Mike said sheepishly and embarrassed. Then he turned his crowd around and headed off before Mrs. Woodcock could shame him any more.
"Let's go inside and warm you up." She said to Libby as she rubbed her arms up and down for warming friction before putting her key in the door.
"Where were you? I knocked and rang and yelled for you."
"I was next door. I would have been right over except I wanted to see how you would handle the presence of strangers."
Libby looked down away from eye contact.
"I think we both learned how much work we have to do and in such a short period of time to save your spot on the team. I agree with you drawing the line at picture taking considering what those pictures were for, but before that point, those boys were no different than anyone else, until they tried to act in any way that was out of line. Do you get my point?"
"Yes ma'am, I'm getting it. It's just that..."
"'Just that' what?" Mrs. Woodcock challenged. "You are still on the side of caring about people seeing you in your natural state. You still have that mountain to cross."
"But how?"
"You are going to have to decide, and soon, whether a world title is more important than a little modesty or not. If you think about it, we all have bodies. They are all pretty much the same except we as a people are pleased to view some of them more than others. You my dear, are blessed, and you've worked hard I'll admit, with such an exquisite body that is very pleasing to just about everybody's eye. The rest, screw them. They don't matter anyway; they'll never be in your life."
"But those boys were cads."
"Their caddier side came out because you fought them for what you have already given freely to others. Don't you think they would have been different if you acted pleased and flattered that they liked what they saw and invited them in for a few minutes of eye candy? Don't you think they might have acted more appreciative, polite and left when you asked them to go?"
"Well maybe."
"Sure they would, just like Mike did yesterday. We are increasing the size of your audience tomorrow night. Jill is going to come over to join you too. How you handle yourself will be a big step to determining your world class competing future you'll see. Finish that cocoa, and when Frank comes home we'll do an exercise to help you for tomorrow night."
The word "exercise" meant something different to Libby at that moment than what it turned out to be. When everyone had eaten and Libby had cracked the books for an hour, Mrs. Woodcock called her into the living room. Libby came in and stood next to the Mr. Woodcock's wingback chair with her hand on the back and one ankle crossed over the other.
"Yes Mrs. Woodcock?"
"Libby dear, have you forgotten already about standing for attention?"
"Oh." She said realizing and immediately got into position.
"No, come over here and stand for attention in front of the both of us.
"That's it. Now is that so bad?"
"No, Mrs. Woodcock, it is very easy. I'm getting used to being like this around the two of you."
"Very good. Now see how this desensitization works?"
"Yes Ma'am."
"Now let's take it up a notch, shall we?" Libby searched with her eyes while she waited for the instructions. "Now I want you to show us your new look between your legs." Mr. Woodcock looked at his wife surprised and pleased then looked directly at Libby's crotch.
Libby bent her knees out and tucked her hips down and in to tilt her pussy more into view.
"That is very good. See how easy that was? Now pull apart the folds with your fingers."
"Like this?" Libby said red-faced as she plied her vulva open.
"Yes Dear, just like that. You are doing very well."
Libby was pleased to hear that she was on the right track finally.
"Now caress your breasts."
"My breasts? Like this?"
"That's perfect. How does it feel?"
"They're sensitive and it feels good."
"No, I was thinking about how it feels to do something intimate like that in front of us."
"I'm okay with it I guess."
"That's good. Now stroke yourself down there like we did earlier."
"Excuse me? I mean right here? Right now?"
"Remember, there is nothing more natural than your naked body and all of its normal responses. Being okay with allowing others to witness it moves you to a space where you can focus on other things when you are naked."
Libby tentatively cupped her snatch.
"You could do it and pretend we are not here; or you could do it and soak up the attention as an energy source to help you reach your goals, or you could just do it to turn us on. However you decide to do it, it will help you be in more control of your life and in reaching your goals."
Libby thought it would be easiest to stroke herself in front of them if she thought they weren't there, so she closed her eyes and tried it. It started to feel good until her curiosity got the better of her and opened her eyes to see what they might be thinking.
Mrs. Woodcock was now cozied up next to her husband and was slowly rubbing her hand along the top of his thigh. Mr. Woodcock had put his arm around his wife and was trying to reach her breast with his fingertips from under her arm. Libby thought this was sweet and appreciated that they were so into watching her that they were unconsciously showing their appreciation this way. It seemed as if they were joining her and she felt more comfortable in reacting to the sensations her self-stimulation was beginning to produce. She remained conscious enough of the Woodcocks to notice that, as she became more relaxed with her sexual response that they became less inhibited about theirs in front of her. As Libby grew reflexively more vocal in her response, Mrs. Woodcock was using both of her hands to touch her husband everywhere but the actual launch pad. Mr. Woodcock was trying to keep one eye on Libby and stimulating his wife with smooches on her neck to convince her to send in the launch codes. Libby's climatic response grew closer, and faster as she saw the effect she was having on the couple and exploded into a blissful release that had her teetering herself over to Mr. Woodcock's chair so she could collapse into it safely.
"That's it. Good night." Mrs. Woodcock said abruptly dragging her husband to his feet. "Good job Libby."
Libby basked in the afterglow of her physical response as well as the positive stroke for having accomplished a goal in her sponsor's eyes.
"Ah, good night." Mr. Woodcock said as he quickly followed his wife so he >could couple his bulging crotch into the cupped palm his wife was holding out for him to dock into as she walked.
Comments are welcomed and appreciated: spunknwagnels@bigfoot.com
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