Nakedgirl 01: The Story of Dareen

The airplane droned off, the passengers silent, including the nude female who squirmed at not being able to wipe off her muddy feet. It was freezing in the cabin, as anyone could tell from the goose bumps on Dareen and her hugely erect nipples.

This pilot hardly needed runways, it seemed; he was expert at landing on straight dirt roads. This one ended at what looked like a deserted firehouse, though it was odd that there would be one out here, the only building in this lonely area. It was now raining pretty heavily. Oddly there were umbrellas in the plane and the men opened them up and walked under them as they escorted Dareen along the gravel path up some cracked stairs to the ruined concrete floor of a long-razed building. Dareen was not given an umbrella, her hair and everything else got drenched, but that was not really a surprise given that she was about to be scrubbed down anyway. Still, she felt pretty miserable, picturing what it must look like, these professional and well-dressed men walking along with a drenched, nude woman, her bare feet squishing in the mud. Though in fact, the sight of the rain coursing from her hair down her brown curves and her sleek legs was quite arresting to the average man.

The rain came down harder now. Mr. Nedrow had to speak up to be heard over the loud shower. He explained that it would be easier to scrub her if she was on all fours. She obediently got down and looked down at the stones and chips of cement with as deadpan an expression as she could manage. Meanwhile the man in the lab coat poured some of the special liquid out of the pail onto her back, then scrubbed. He began on top and then bent over as he reached underneath to get up at her concave tummy and then the long-handled brush pushed and pulled at her breasts as they sought to get every little bit of skin surface. The brush was soft and fluffy but his strokes were firm. The men watched as Dareen's canteloupe-sized breasts, hanging down, tightly wobbled to and fro under his ministrations. Meanwhile the rain hit her back and ran down past her thighs and arms to where her hands and knees were resting uncomfortably on the rock-strewn surface.

The men watched intently as the scrub brush took care of every part of her. After the brush was dunked a few more times in the pail she heeded the instruction to lift her face. With her closed eyes she looked like she was praying in the rain; then her face was invaded by the brush. Now the neck and upper chest, then the arms. The man in the lab coat then walked around to the other end. Her buttocks were scrubbed, then down the backs of her thighs, then her soles, finally rinsing away the mud. She flinched as the brush slid down between her buttocks, several brisk strokes sawing up and down as if her butt crack was being flossed.

She was told to stand up and, as the men watched even more intently from under their umbrellas, she followed the instruction to arch open her legs and spread apart her lower lips. As the brush diligently rasped up and down within her, unavoidably passing over her clitoris again and again, her eyes looked up far away to the hills, with thoughts that could only be guessed at. One foot was extended forward, then the other, the man holding each foot up by the heel as he scrubbed her soles and then between her toes. Finally she was made to turn around and bend over and spread her buttocks "wider, please" as her anal area was scrubbed and scrubbed. At the end of which the man looked carefully at the displayed nether opening, scrub brush in his hand. He asked her to stick her butt out further as the men watched. They could see every little detail of the wide valley in which her anus lay, suds and rain sliding past. Her anus winked at them, the flexing of her internal muscles being the only sign of her unease. Deciding that he had caught everything, the man with the brush said thank you and told Dareen to turn back around.

Finally the remaining contents of the pail were poured over her head. They coursed down her nude body, joining the rain. Their combined forces caused little spouts of water to run off her huge brown nipples in little arcs. After a few moments, Mr. Nedrow said, again loudly over the rain, "Thank you, Ms. Alkaras. We have managed to rinse off the monitoring fluid. Our friend underestimates us, I think."

Now back to the plane. When they got in, Dareen was not given a towel. As they flew back her wet body was doubly freezing in the cold cabin, but of course as NakedGirl she could withstand it. She looked back at the deserted ruin, the site of her humiliation. Then she told herself that though it might have been a humiliating experience, it was necessary. Novotny could no longer track her whereabouts.

As they neared the pumping house installation she asked again, "Can I have clothes now?" She realized she sounded like a pest, like a kid asking a parent over and over for a favor, and wished she hadn't said it. These men knew what they were doing, they knew that she wanted to have clothes. No doubt she would get some as soon as possible.

Mr. Nedrow didn't answer. Instead Dareen's feet got muddy again as they walked back into the pump house building and down the elevator.

This was a different room, a big room like a gym, with a wood floor. But it was filled with tables, chairs, computers. The place was partially dark; half the computers and lights were turned off. In the middle of the room was a large glass-enclosed case set up on a pedestal, surrounded by folding chairs. As they approached it Mr. Nedrow took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Then he said, "We will have to do some further testing, Ms. Alkaras. Now that we know that the laja field around your body is shrunk, or collapsed, below a certain temperature, well, that means we know more and need to test some more. But for now, we would like your help in trying out a new device."

He pointed up to the glass enclosure. Inside were four thick metal bars coming up from holes in the floor, two on each side. Two curved in and ended just above the floor; the other two went up about six feet before curving in to a point where the ends were about four feet apart.

Dareen stepped up into the enclosure, a swinging metal door closing behind her. She heard a brief sound like the sucking of air. Then she walked to where the bars were. She looked out across the big room and then down at Mr. Nedrow. Standing with him were his two assistants. Behind them, Dareen noticed for the first time, were a few other men sitting at consoles.

She did not like this place. She felt so totally on display. She glanced behind. There were chairs all around her. If there were people in those chairs she would be looked at from every direction. No way to hide any little bit of herself. She wanted clothes more than ever and hoped Mr. Nedrow would be done with her as soon as possible.

She followed his instructions, placing each mud-caked foot on the lower bars, extending her arms to grab the upper bars. She was now stretched out into an "X", as if to maximize her total exposure.

Now she was told to push up on the upper bars, push down on the lower ones. She flexed her muscles and went at it, getting the rhythm after a few tries. When her right hand and her left foot pushed to the end, she relaxed them and the bars slowly recoiled as she pushed up with her left hand and down with her right foot. Then right hand and left foot again. She could tell that these were very strong bars and that she must be exerting thousands of pounds of pressure. Not a strain for NakedGirl. She heard a grinding sound below and felt like she was setting in motion a flywheel. It felt like she was on a bicycle and starting in high gear.

And then the whole room lit up, all the lights that were off now coming on. She relaxed a little and the lights dimmed somewhat. Then picked up the pace and the lights brightened.

She pictured how she must look and her eye caught a monitor on one of the tables that told her exactly. Brightly lit, spread out into an "X", all the muscles of her arms, legs and concave tummy rippling, her breasts with a tight tectonic jiggle. Such a wonderful -- and shaming -- display of her super powers. Between her widely spread legs, her lower lips were parted ever so slightly.

"Quite an idea, isn't it?" Mr. Nedrow said with a little smile. "My thanks go to our engineers. Muscle energy harnessed to supply electricity, for example in case a pulse bomb falls... What if all the exercise machines in all the gyms in Atlanta could be connected and channeled into a big flywheel. That would supply quite a lot of power, don't you think?"

Dareen didn't reply but kept pushing up and down, up and down, looking up at her hands, trying not to look down at her audience. She had a weird feeling. Exercise machines channeled to produce energy. Where had she heard that before?

Part 40

Dareen, nearly spread-eagled with her hands and feet working the levers, looked up at the ceiling. She didn't want to think of these men looking while she was so much on display up here in the big glass case. She was beginning to wonder about them. There was not the friendliness of Colonel Mike and his team. The atmosphere was different.

Finally she looked down. Mr. Nedrow had approached closer and was right down under her, looking up past her spread crotch, right in between her widely-spread legs. With disgust Dareen considered that he looked almost like she was spreading her legs so that he could jump up and lick her vagina. And if he was any closer her breasts would have obstructed her view of his face. It was very unpleasant. His glasses glinted in the strong light. She decided she didn't like this man.

"You may rest now, Ms. Alkaras." His voice was mellow smooth.

Dareen stopped pushing and pulling. The big room again went to half dark. She started to hop off the bars but Mr. Nedrow motioned for her to stay on.

"We would like to ask you some further questions, Ms. Alkaras." He motioned to an assistant. A large flat screen next to him, which Dareen had not particularly noticed, came on. There was static and then a grainy picture of her leaning against a concrete wall on a sunny day.

Dareen's puzzlement turned into longing as she saw the bulky T-shirt, unbuttoned sweater and jeans and sneakers she was wearing. Her toes, curled around the lower bars, squirmed. She looked down and considered Mr. Nedrow and his assistants. Feeling their gaze on her breasts and crotch, she had the urge to cover those parts of her with her hands but suppressed it.

"This, Ms. Alkaras, is you, only moments before the pulse bomb went off over Atlanta this past summer." The film played on, of Dareen looking up at the sky with concern. "Did you know that it was coming? You certainly look like you did."

Dareen's mind was disoriented by her nudity, by her total exposure, by a feeling of dread and unreality that was coming over her. "Where did you get that picture?"

"The police precinct surveillance camera, of course. I see you are suspicious. Well, Ms. Alkaras, to be frank, so are we. You did not do anything to prevent the bomb from exploding, did you? You did not inform the authorities, did you?"

Dareen tried to remember that day. She had indeed run to the police station. But why? It was because she wanted to warn them. But of what? She didn't know at the time that the tingling in her breasts foretold a bomb of some kind. Would the police think she was crazy? It was so sudden to try to remember all that now. A draft of air flew up into her vaginal cavity, making her aware that her widely spread position had caused her lower lips to open, and she couldn't concentrate. What was going on here? "I didn't know about the bomb."

The film stopped. More static on the big screen. And now another grainy film, taken from a great height, of a busy traffic circle on a sunny morning. A policeman stops traffic and starts lumbering toward the shrubbed area in the middle of the circle. Suddenly a brown figure darts out of the shrubs and up and out of sight. Dareen suddenly recognized it: that time when she had put on a ring during her night time flight and had fallen to the ground and gotten knocked out.

"What were you doing that morning, Ms. Alkaras? Why were you in the Perimeter Center circle?"

"I -- I -- " Dareen tried to remember. "I had been flying around and I didn't know about the laja rays field."

"And where were you flying?"

"Just... around."

"Indeed. A very curious place to take a rest, I would say. So close to what is so worth observing."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I think you know very well what we mean, Ms. Alkaras."

Dareen's brow furrowed in puzzlement. She started to get off the bars.

"I STRONGLY urge you not to do that, Ms. Alkaras!"

Without thinking she immediately reversed her lurching movements and got back onto the bars. She tried to close her legs a bit but it was impossible, her feet were too widely stationed. "What do you think I..."

She was about to say, "Do you think I'm a spy?" but before she could utter anything more coherent the screen went blank and then came on again. Now there was an overhead shot of her and Billy Gibbs in the library building elevator. She recognized the old wooden panelling. The camera looked right down onto her hair kerchief, and Billy's blond hair and slight bald spot.

Now Billy turned and spoke. "Think about what I said. Your super powers are needed."

Dareen remembered. It was the day he confronted her about seeing her rescue of that drive-by shooting, that turned out to be just under Sherry's apartment.

"Why did you not come to us with your powers?" Mr. Nedrow said, his smooth voice rising only a little. "And why did you not say anything about it to Detective Samuelson?"

Dareen tried hard to remember. She remembered an agent coming to her office and asking questions about her mosque and then asking if she knew how to fly airplanes. And of her being upset that it seemed like they automatically suspected Muslims of being involved in terrorism. But the more she tried to focus her mind the more she thought about her shaming exposure. "I -- I wasn't asked." Which was true, but she was feeling guilty about having been so resistant. A guilt which showed on her face, unfortunately.

"We have not yet identified the other person on this tape, but perhaps you can save us the trouble. Who is that?"

Dareen said nothing.

"Well, we can search for him," Mr. Nedrow said offhandedly.

""C - can I go now?" she said.

"No, you may not go, Ms. Alkaras."

Dareen's breasts heaved as she started to get angry. This was an outrage. Warning or no, she hopped off the bars and stood in front of them, looking down through the glass at Mr. Nedrow. She defiantly covered her nipples, holding her left breast in her left hand and her right breast in her right. Or trying to, having rather small hands. "You have no right to accuse me. I am a loyal American."

"Let me ask you straightaway. Did you ever meet with Novotny before June 26, 2003?" The night of that ion storm.

Noticing his eyes going to her crotch, Dareen dropped her hand to cover as much of her pubic hair as she could with one hand, the other arm drawing across both breasts so as to keep covering her nipples. "I demand to have a lawyer present. You cannot detain me without probable cause."

"Actually, under the Patriot Act, we can. This is not a criminal investigation. This is an intelligence investigation. Further, you are a suspected enemy combatant."

"What!!?"

"Ms. Alkaras, if you really are a loyal American you would see how we cannot afford to give you the benefit of the doubt. You have unrivalled super powers which cannot be overcome except by extreme cold. Your body is undetectable by any known radar. You are an invaluable asset for any nation, but for a terrorist group, your powers and your abilities are, shall we say, exactly made to order?"

This was like a bad dream. She decided she hated this leering, suspicous man. The only thing to do was leave. "I am getting out of here, right now." Her bare feet slapped on the cold metal floor as she stomped toward the sealed door. It was locked from the outside. She flexed her arm muscles, about to rip the door off its hinges.

"I WOULD NOT DO THAT!!" It was such a high-pitched, threatening bellow that she had to look to make sure it was him. In doing so her eyes widened as she saw her brother Sanny's face on the big flat screen. It was his official U.S. Army picture, smiling in his camouflage shirt.

"If you make any attempt to leave, Ms. Alkaras, we will take all necessary steps. This is your brother, on duty in Iraq presently, I believe. I assure you he is in no danger. At present. But if you leave, we cannot ensure his security."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Such language was unusual for Dareen, but they were talking about her brother. She walked toward the side of the cage where the screen was, her hands covering her breasts and her crotch again, this time almost as if she was facing her brother while in her naked state. She thought quickly. They were trying to scare her but it was already scary in Iraq. "He knows it's dangerous there."

"Yes," Mr. Nedrow said, having resumed his mellow, smooth voice, "but he may be picked off by snipers." His voice had returned to its mellow smoothness.

"What -- we all hope not. Everyone there is a possible target." According to what she'd been reading.

"Let's say, our friends have certain influence there."

Was Mr. Nedrow really saying he could have someone shoot at Sanny? Dareen was forced to consider this -- what else could he mean? She fixed as hateful a glare as she could manage. "You are a bad man. Whose side are you on!"

"I will not have you question my patriotism, Ms. Alkaras. I stand here to say that any attempt to harm me or my assistants will have even more severe consequences." It took quite a bit of courage for Mr. Nedrow to say this. As a young man he had gotten out of the draft through family connections, though of course while working for a politican who supported that particular war.

Now, the screen showed Al Hijia Mosque. "Let me add that we may also classify some acquaintances of yours so that they can be detained for questioning. In the hands of the immigration authorities, of course."

Dareen had heard of Muslims "disappearing"; being suspected of links to terrorists and detained in secret. They already had criminal records, most of them... or at least that's what the official story always was. But Mr. Nedrow surely couldn't mean... She remembered the moving sermon Imam Tahir had given about 9/11 and the memorial service in France. "Some of those people have relatives who died on 9/11."

Mr. Nedrow said nothing.

"I don't know anything!" Dareen protested. "You can't harm these people! Leave them alone!"

"We haven't done anything yet, Ms. Alkaras. We do not want any harm to come to your brother or to anyone else. We just want you to tell us what you know. We are patient and will wait until you decide to tell us."

"I don't know anything!" she repeated. She stamped her foot and pleaded. "You have to believe me! You saw me in that cold room with those weights stretching my..." Her arm pressed against her breasts more firmly as she remembered. She could feel the chill of that room right up her bare backside.

In fact it was not just a feeling. The air in the glass cage was a lot colder now. There was really cold air coming up from somewhere behind her.

"You were not harmed by it, Ms. Alkaras," Mr. Nedrow said with gentle mocking. "Novotny knew that of course. A very convincing show, if you ask me."

"It was not a show!"

"Consider our position, Ms. Alkaras. An ion storm comes by, a quite rare event, and you are right near Novotny and his laboratory. What are the odds of that being a coincidence? With your body a perfect conduit for laja rays."