Sharon arrived ten minutes before seven that Friday morning.† She carried her camera and a small plastic bag to Kimís door and rang the bell.† Kimberly opened the door, nude, her brown tresses pulled back into twin pigtails and her face made up the same as the day before.† Sharon could see a small blush on Kimís face and delighted in it. "Good morning, Kimmie."
Not repeating the mistake of the previous morning, Kim said, "Good morning, Miss Reed." She tried to sound happy and almost succeeded.
"I have something for you," Sharon said handing the small bag to Kim. "I picked it up at the drug store this morning just for you."†
Kim opened the bag and pulled out a purple and white box labeled Spa Wax. Kim looked at it, her face lined with confusion. "Miss Reed?"
Sharon barked laughter. "You did not ask me to humiliate you yesterday while we were shopping.† I am sure you thought you were embarrassed enough, but that is not the way the game is played. This is your punishment. Tonight, instead of shaving your pussy, you are going to go on stage and wax yourself bald.† Itíll hurt, I am sure. At least I hope so," she chuckled at this. "You are also going to offer the little strips of pubic hair as souvenirs. I canít imagine anyone wanting them, but it should be so embarrassing for you to offer them. Iíll probably come to the club to watch you do it."
Kimís mouth hung open, praying she had misheard Sharon, but knowing she had not. She shut her mouth, swallowed and meekly said, "Yes, Miss Reed." There was nothing else she could say.
"Excellent. Now, letís go see what youíre gonna wear to work today."
Kim followed Sharon to the bedroom carrying the wax with her. Sharon commanded Kim to spread her legs while Sharon grabbed a small white blouse from the closet. She poked her head out of the closet and asked, "Where are your new skirts, Kimmie?"
Kimís head snapped to Sharon; surely sheíd not have to wear those to work. Would she? "Please," Kim said, "donít make me wear those to class. You said youíd take it easy on me on campus. Please."
Sharonís smile faded from her lips. "You donít like your new skirts, Kimmie?"
Kimís face went from red to white to red again as shame and fear played equally across her mind.† How could she answer that question? If she said she liked them then Sharon would certainly make her wear one; and if she said she did not like them then what? Kim figured Sharon would have them modified with the scissors in her purse. Sharon would tell Kim why Kim did not like them. It was a lose-lose situation. "Whatever you say, Miss Reed," Kim said sounding broken.
"Well, then, I say have a nice day." She dropped the blouse on the floor and walked from the room. Her heels clicked loudly on the kitchen tile as she made her way to the front door.
Kim ran after her, darting through the dining room and into the foyer just as Sharon arrived. "Iím sorry, Miss Reed," Kim said, her head bowed. "Forgive me." Sharonís intention had been clear. She was leaving and with her any hope of Kim keeping her house and both jobs. Kim could not allow that to happen. For the first time she realized how truly trapped she was.
"It seems I have to go through this every day," Sharon spoke slowly. "Yesterday you promised youíd not give me any more trouble and the first thing this morning, there you are, arguing with me. Why should I keep doing this?"
Kim was nearly in tears, "Iím sorry." She was apologizing to Sharon; that seemed to redden Kimís cheeks even more.
"Well then," Sharon said. She took a deep breath, "Where are your new skirts?"
"In the laundry room, Miss Reed."† She had planned on washing them over the weekend and so had dropped then in the laundry room when she had gotten in from Pussy Cats the previous evening.
"Go get them and meet me in the bedroom."
"Yes, Miss Reed."
Kim returned to find Sharon sitting on her bed. "Put one on," Sharon commanded.
Kim placed the skirts down on the bed next to Sharon and grabbed the top one from the pile. She pulled the tags free, dropping them on the bed. She donned the skirt and as she had noticed the day before, the skirt was entirely too short. Her pussy was completely covered, but she could feel the skirt skimming her ass. She pulled her hand along the skirt, tugging the hem lower. She looked at herself in the mirror, with the skirt as low as she could wear it she could still see the curve of her ass reflected back at her; the twin swells were playing peek-a-boo with the hem of her skirt.
"Now," Sharon said, her eyes hard points, her voice iron, "this is what you are going to wear to class today." She stared at Kimmie, daring her to protest. Wisely, Kim remained quiet, but she could feel tears threaten to spill from her eyes. "And," Sharon continued, "you are going to grab the remaining skirts I let you keep including the ones that needed to be modified and we are going to drop them off at the tailors this morning. Because of your little outburst, this will be the longest skirt you will own. Got it?"
Shamed and scared Kim said, "yes, Miss Reed." Her voice was little more than a squeak.
"Now grab the blouse from the closet."
"Put it on." Sharon watched as Kim donned the blouse. Before Kimís outburst, the blouse was going to be the worst part of her outfit for the day, not the skirt. Kimís little display had actually helped Sharon to speed things up; maybe a little too fast, she thought. Sharon secretly hoped Kim would defy her again.† The blouse was tight and thin and Kimís breasts were covered, but their shape as well as the hard points of Kimís nipples were perfectly outlined. Wearing it, Kimís breasts were at the same time hidden, yet their shape and size fully revealed.
Seeing herself, Kim wanted to hide away. She would be clearly displayed in the outfit Sharon had chosen for her. Chocking back a sob, she knew sheíd obey. Sharon would not hesitate to end Kimís career and Kim losing her house did not bother Sharon in the least. Trapped, Kim thought, then, no, a stranger thought crept through her conscious thoughts. Owned. She was owned.
"Grab your wax, and all of your skirts and letís go. Remember, we decided they were a little long." Sharon almost broke out laughing at the look on Kimís face.
Kim did as she was told, grabbing every skirt she owned and walked, dressed in her breast-hugging blouse and tiny skirt, meekly behind Sharon.† She held the skirts in front of her with both hands, the bag containing her wax hung from her wrist.† She followed Sharon to the door, grabbed her purse with her phone, donned the same short heels as yesterday, and left the house with Sharon. She struggled to lock the door. "Get in and spread," Sharon said as she climbed behind the wheel.
Kim placed the items she was carrying down in the back seat, sat, moved forward and spread her legs. Her pussy gaped back at her. The skirt was so short that with her legs spread her naked ass was on the cloth of the seat, not the denim of the skirt.† She wanted to shut her legs, she wanted to cover up, and she wanted to flee. Instead, she meekly sat there and wondered how she could be any more embarrassed. She needed to come up with a way; the waxing would be horrible and it was a punishment for not asking for even more humiliation. Think, she berated herself, think.
Sharon backed from the driveway, watching Kim in the rear view mirror. Sharonís pussy throbbed at the power she exerted over Kim. She wanted to watch Kim struggle with what she was being made to do. She enjoyed treating Kim poorly and from the looks of Kimís swollen sex, she enjoyed it too.†
"Miss Reed," Kim said, her voice little more than a whisper, "to humiliate me, may I have one of the skirts shortened even more?" Kim had reasoned that with the scissors in her purse, it was bound to happen anyway and thought that this would satisfy Sharon and not really be anything different than what would eventually happen anyway.
Sharon smiled, "Iíll take care of it. You donít like the idea of the waxing, do you, Kimmie?"
"No, Miss Reed."
Sharon grinned, "well, then this will help you. The next time we are together and you forget to ask me to humiliate you, do you know what your punishment will be?"
Kim shook her head, "No, Miss Reed."
"Would you like to?"
Kim thought about it and decided, "Yes, Miss Reed." If it wasnít that bad, she reasoned it would be like a Ďget out of jail cardí; a free-pass. Maybe it would be tamer than any humiliation that sheíd be able to come up with.
"Well, Kimmie," Sharon was giddy, "if you forget, you will move your Dressing Rug outside onto your front porch. Wonít that be fun?"
Kim gasped. If she were forced to strip and dress outside than the likelihood of being seen by her neighbors would skyrocket. She was fortunate they had not seen her yet but with Sharon leading her, Kim knew it would be just a matter of time.† And, as before, how do you answer such a loaded question. Shaking with fear and blushing with shame, Kim said, "thank you, Miss Reed." It wasnít an answer, but Sharon said nothing.†
Sharon drove to a drycleaners that opened early for the business community and parked the car.† "Hand me your clothes and wait here. Do not close your legs. Got it?"
Blushing, Kim said she understood. She handed the skirts to Sharon and watched as Sharon walked off with her skirts in her hands. Kim jumped when the car beeped, the alarm locking her inside like a puppy added more color to her crimson cheeks.† She sat there, legs obscenely spread, her pussy, wet with need staring up at her and whoever chose to walk by the car.† She covered her face with her hands and waited for Sharon to return.
Sharon walked into the store and handed the skirts to the man behind the counter. "I need these dry-cleaned," Sharon said, "and I would like to have all of these shortened by a full inch," she indicated the new skirts, "and this one," Sharon pulled one of the correct sized denim skirts free, the tags still hanging from it, "shortened by three inches." She picked through Kimís original skirts and said, "And all of these need to be the same length as the denim ones."† Sharon was smiling. Kim had asked to have one of her skirts shortened and Sharon had gleefully had them all made shorter. The skirt Kim was wearing was her longest one, as promised.
The man politely agreed, marking the sales order, making a number of notes. "Theyíll be mighty short," he said.
"Itís okay," Sharon agreed. "Iím counting on it."
The man looked at Sharon, wondering if she was kidding. Deciding that she was not he asked, "When would you like them?"
He nodded, "Itíll cost," he counted the thirteen skirts and said, "fifty-two bucks extra for next day."
"That will be fine."
He finished writing up the sale and handed the receipt to Sharon. "Tomorrow afternoon," he said. Sharon thanked him and returned to the car where her little Kimmie-doll was sitting, head hidden in her hands and legs spread wide, waiting for Sharonís return.† The car beeped as Sharon unlocked the door and Kim jumped, looking around eyes wide, her knees bouncing at the sound.† Sharon laughed at Kimís obvious distress. "Letís head to class. Iím sure you will have your studentsí undivided attention today."
Kim could only moan.
Looking from his office window, Dean Waters could not believe what he was seeing.† Kimberly Turner was walking behind Sharon Reed with her head bowed.† Kim was dressed quite provocatively and he wondered if his decision to allow her to find herself again was a good one. She looked less professional than any of the other faculty at the college and her skirt was nearly shameful. From his window he could clearly see the swell of her breasts bounce under the thin, white shirt that she was wearing. The only thing remotely demure about Kim was her sensible shoes. If the heels were any higher than Kim would look more like a hooker than an educator.† He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.† He had to talk to Sharon and see what she thought and then heíd talk to Kim.
He stepped from the window and sat at his desk.† He jotted down a note to talk to Sharon and then stood up to once again look out the window.† The two had almost made it into the English wing and looking at them he pondered why Kim was walking behind Sharon and why was her head bowed? Was she embarrassed by her attire and if so, why was she wearing it? Was there more going on than he knew? He shook his head and picked up the phone.
"Sir?" The voice of his secretary rang in his ears.
"Have Sharon Reed meet me in my office after her first class."
"Yes, Dean Waters."
"Thank you, Carla."
And Dean Waters began his day as Sharon and Kim entered the building.
He was not the only one curious as to what was happening between Sharon Reed and Kimberly Turner.
Kim sat at her desk, looking at her students looking at her. The walk into the building had been humiliating.† As she had climbed from Sharonís car, her legs parted and her pussy gaped at Sharon.† Sharon had teased her. "Nice look, slut. I canít wait to see you bare. Then you wonít have anything hiding your pussy from view." The laugh came next and shame-faced, Kim had dropped her head.†
"Walk behind me, Kimmie," Sharon had said. "Youíre not my equal." Her tone was full of malice.
"Yes, Miss Reed." What could she say? She was owned and she knew it. She followed Sharon into the school and as she walked down the crowded hall, her ass shaking below the edge of her skirt, she could almost feel the eyes on her.† The hem of her skirt tickled her naked cheeks softly, like a gentle caress. Kim found it both distracting and arousing and it reminded her exactly how little the skirt covered. Or, more importantly, how much of her ass was revealed. The cheeks of her ass was visible to the staff and students that milled in the hallway.
She had been relieved to climb behind her desk, to hide her body from the view of the young men and women that attended the college. As she had the day before, a book blocked her chest from the stares of her students and the modesty panel of the desk kept her lower body fully concealed. It was a welcome feeling, not being seen. But, her students were staring at her, some blatantly and some† a little less conspicuously.
Kim dropped the book and eyed her students, wondering what the sound had been. The third time she heard it, it dawned on her that it was her new phone. She opened the left hand drawer, pulled her phone from her purse, flipped it open and read the display.
Kimís mouth fell open; her cheeks flared with color.† She looked at the screen in disbelief. Here? Sharon couldnít mean here, could she? She looked at her students, half of them working on their assignment while the other half keeping their attention on the blushing teacher.† Kim turned her head and saw Sharon watching her from the hallway.
Reluctantly, Kim spread her legs wide. Nothing was visible to her students, the modesty panel of the desk made sure of that, but to Kim that was little consolation. To Kim there was a huge difference between the embarrassment she felt while exposing her naked bodies to others and this humiliation of exposing herself to no one.† This was worse. Nobody could see her undignified pose or her pussy, her desk kept her body hidden from view. Still, her pulse was racing and she found it hard to swallow. Her students were in the room with her, her pussy open and only her desk hid the shameful display.† Nothing was visible but she felt even more revealed than when she held the same pose in the back of Sharonís car.† Did it come down to being seen or was it where she was that made the humiliation greater? Or was it something else, she wondered. She had felt humiliated in the mall the day before but not to this degree. Revealing herself to others had always been arousing to her which was why she had tolerated the games with her ex-husband.
Finally, when Sharon turned from her the window, it came to Kim why this was worse. It wasnít the shameful pose or the blatant display; those things still aroused. It was the loss of anonymity that made this humiliation greater. These were her students, she knew them all by name and they knew her. It reminded Kim of what Rascal had said: use a stage name. You donít want people to know who you really are. There was safety in being anonymous. She was shamed by her exhibitionism, but as long as no one knew who she was, she was safe and the mocking tones and hushed whispers, while adding to her embarrassment did not have a chance to get back to her later.† Being unknown, once the exhibitionism ended, so did the humiliation. But, being known, the whispers would continue long after her body was once again hidden from view.
Did Sharon realize this? If not, Kim wondered, should I tell her? Kim decided, keeping her legs wantonly splayed, that she would keep this knowledge from Sharon. If Sharon understood, telling her would change nothing, but if Sharon was unaware than Kim was certain that Sharon would force Kim to reveal her body to more people that she knew. It was, Kim knew, why the threat to move the dressing rug outside was such a good punishment; she wanted to remain anonymous. It aroused her to be seen naked by others, just not others that she knew.
She kept her legs wantonly spread, wondering when she could close them. Sharon had witnessed her obyeing and Kim did not want to be seen disobeying.† Still, she wanted to close them. Only fear allowed her to continue teaching in such a lewd position.
"Do you have anything to tell me?" Dean Waters asked Sharon who was sitting in a comfortable leather chair opposite his desk.
Ted Waters ran his hand through his hair and with more calm than he felt said, "She looks like a whore. How can I have her teaching in such a scandalous outfit? Youíve spoken to her. Does she realize how she looks, how she comes across? When she was walking in," seeing the shamed trek in his mind, "she seemed to be hiding her face. If sheís embarrassed, why is she dressed like she is?"
Sharon looked at Ted, her mind spinning. She did not want Kimís humiliation to end on campus; the bitch did not deserve a reprieve anywhere. She had to convince the Dean that this was important to Kim. She made a note to herself to tell Kim to keep her head up, to at least act like she was enjoying what was being done to her.† "Sir," Sharon said, speaking calmly, "she has convinced me that she needs this, and I believe her. It was just her first time coming to class dressed this way and her wondering what everyone would think that caused her to try and hide her face. She wanted to wear a shorter skirt but I convinced her that for today, to take it easy. Did you know that the skirt she is wearing is her longest one? She threw the rest away to not be tempted to change her mind." She paused, eyeing Dean Waters. Would he believe her? She continued, "As I mentioned to you, with her divorce she needs to feel sexy again. And you have to admit, she looks pretty sexy in that skirt."
The Dean nodded, which Sharon took as a good sign.
"If I hear one complaint about her attire," he said, exhaling sharply, wondering when dealing with the faculty became as difficult as dealing with students, "then I will send her home for a week so that she can purchase less revealing clothing. A second warning and I will release her. Make sure she understands this. I do not want to have to intervene, but I will." And, he did like seeing her, he thought.
"Iíll see to it, Dean," Sharon said.
Sharon knew she was dismissed. She stood, nodded politely and left the Deanís office.† She walked from the Administrative Building, past the library and the Science Building and into the English Department Building. Each step closer to her empty classroom raised her ire even more. Kim was dressed like a trollop and it was Sharon that got the reprimand.† Sure, Sharon was the reason Kim was dressed like she was, but still, did that matter? That bitch even had the Dean on her side.† Sharon wondered briefly if she was being fair and dismissed the thought; it was easier being mean to Kim if she was angry with her.
She stopped outside the door to Kimís classroom and smiled. The bitch still had her legs widely spread.† A thought entered Sharonís mind and her anger dissipated where it was replaced with merriment. She pulled out her cell phone and made a call.†
Kim slid her knees together. "Have a good weekend.† Donít forget your papers due on Monday." She watched her students file from the room and when she was alone, the last period done, she stood and stretched her legs. She had been sitting all day, not wanting to stand and face her students in her horribly short skirt. Her chalkboard had remained clean, she had not turned her back on her class to write on the flat surface. Sitting, she had remained hidden. Standing would have been too revealing.
"How was your day, Kimmie?" Sharon called from the doorway.
"Embarrassing, Miss Reed," Kim admitted.
"Yeah? Good. I spoke to the Dean about you today."
Kim remained silent, waiting for Sharon to continue.
"He seems to think you do not like how you are dressed. I convinced him otherwise, but we have a new rule now. You are not allowed to hide your face. He says you were walking with your head held down and we canít have that, now can we?"
Kim blushed as she whispered, "No, Miss Reed."
Sharon savored the look on Kimís face. It was a look of fear and shame and even lust all intermixed and it made Sharonís own face flush with growing excitement. "You will keep your head up. I donít care how embarassed you are, you will not hide your face. You will let people see all of you. Got it?"
Kim hated those two words, words Sharon seemed to use at her expense entirely too often. "Yes, Miss Reed."
"Good. Letís go."
Meekly, Kim followed Sharon to her car and climbed into the back. The order to Ďspreadí was not a surprise.
I Think I'm Going Bald blared through the clubís sound system. To Kim, Rush never sounded so vicious. Tommy had laughed when she had told him her plans but, as always, he knew just the right song to play. Her first three dance sets of the night had gone well, each of them getting her invites into the back. It was the largest crowd she had seen, the stage had only one empty seat and over half the tables that rested around the club were full with hollering and semi-drunk men. Carlos had said it was the busiest Friday he had seen as well when Kim handed him the wax kit to microwave for her last set of the night.
Sharon was sitting at the bar, her camera resting next to her martini, watching Kim. So far, Sharon was impressed with Kimís performance. She had enjoyed watching Kim shimmy free of her panties and give them away to a man that had not tipped her, as Sharon had commanded. It seemed to actually help Kim make money. Sharon noticed the three other dancers working that night mingled with the crowd before being escorted to the back rooms for a private dance, while Kim had men approach her. Kimís fear that sheíd lose money by giving away her panties seemed to be unnecessary.
When the last set began, Kim pulled a chair and accessories from behind the maroon curtain, and danced across the floor to the bar.† The men were following her movements, and to Sharon they seemed almost tense, as if they were expecting something. Kim grabbed the warm kit from Carlos who had been nice enough to get it ready for her and with the music blaring and her hands full, Kim made her way back to the stage. She plopped into the chair, spread her legs as wide as she could and like a magician showing his audience the setup for a magic trick, Kim showed the crowd her intentions.
The music seemed to fade as the applause started.
Kim used the wooden stick, it reminded her of a tongue depressor, to spread the hot wax over her pubic hair.† She pulled the first white strip of cloth from the box next to the chair and pressed it over the wax. She rubbed it and looking left to right, he toes bouncing to the music, she grabbed the edge of the cloth and pulled as quickly as she could.
The applause dwarfed the music.
Kim had not realized how much pain she would feel in her pussy as she plucked her pubic hair free, but each painful tug seemed to quicken her pulse and make her pussy swell with lust. She was thankful, as she grabbed another strip of cloth that she only had a thin line to wax and not a full pubic bush. Kim took eight painful pulls to denude herself of her pubic hair. With each tug, the audience clapped and when the last strip gave way, Kim dropped her hand over her bare pussy and felt the heat rising from her sex. The excitement she felt from her exposure as well as the pain in her sex had caused her sex to throb with need. She shut her eyes and brought herself to an orgasm that could not be heard over the cheering audience.
Sated, Kim climbed to her feet and picked up the pieces of hairy cloth. She held them in front of her, showing them to the audience. The tables were empty, every man in the place was standing shoulder to shoulder at the stage. Kim flashed the wax strips coated with her pubic hair and was amazed to see how much money was being offered for them. Kim had been told to offer them as souvenirs, did that mean she could not sell them?† Sharon had not said and when it was all done, she had made nearly three hundred dollars for the eight sheets of cloth that held the remains of her pubic hair.
Sharon had snapped pictures of it all. The pictures, Sharon thought, were going to be important very soon.
At the end of the night, as they were getting ready to leave and with Kim still beaming from how much money she had made, she turned to Sharon, "Miss Reed, to humiliate me, may I ride home naked?" After the night sheíd had, it did not seem very humiliating.
"Of course. Leave your clothes here and letís go."
Sharon took Kim home and as Kim opened the back door to run inside, still nude, her clothes locked safely away in her locker at the strip club, Sharon said, "Iíll be over in the morning. Weíre going to have fun tomorrow. Well," she grinned an unfriendly smile, "I will anyway. Good night, Kimmie."
"Good night, Miss Reed," Kim said and ran inside to lock the day behind her.