Starting Down the Road of Exposure

This is a sequel to my earlier story, "Chicken Fight Humiliation".

Christine was absolutely dreading going back in to work again. It had only been two days since her hated co-worker Stacey had stripped her at the work pool party in front of over half a dozen other co-workers and their significant others. Luckily, her husband and daughter were out at a park when Chris got home, and Chris had yet to say anything about it to him; so he at least was still oblivious to the whole thing.

Driving home had been tricky. When she fled the party, she hadn't been thinking about how difficult it would be to keep covered with the beach towel she had left in the car to protect her seat from getting wet; she was only grateful to make her escape and be able to cover herself up. The towel covered her lap well, but she quickly came to realize that trying to drive while covering the rest of her with it was going to be a bit of a struggle. Any time she would move her arms significantly, it would slide down off her large hanging tits. So she minimized how much she moved her arms while driving and did her best to stick to side roads. For the most part, she was successful.

There was one incident at a red light, when she hadn't noticed that the towel had slid down on one side, exposing her right breast. When a pick-up truck pulled up in the right lane, she intentionally avoided looking over and drawing attention to herself. After a few seconds, that had been shattered when she was startled to attention by the truck's horn.

"Hey, mama! How's about lettin' ol' Zach get a drink of that titty milk?"

At that, she turned and glared. The driver, who looked as run-down and rusty as his truck, was ogling her salaciously and making slurping motions with his tongue. Her face contorted in a look of disgust. Then she noticed that the towel had slid down and her right breast was hanging free. She blushed furiously at this recognition, and quickly covered herself back up. She went back to looking straight ahead and trying to ignore him. She had grown a bit concerned when he seemed to be trying to drive alongside of her for a few blocks, probably hoping to get another view; and she felt relieved when, with a final honk and loud shout, he turned down another road.

Her biggest piece of good fortune had been that her husband and daughter weren't there when she had gotten home. She was able to pull into the garage and enter the house from there with none of her neighbors being any the wiser to her predicament. It also meant that she didn't have to explain to her husband why she was returning buck naked under her towel. Not only was she able to avoid telling him about her humiliation, which would have been itself rather degrading; but with him being none the wiser she was at least a bit more likely to put this behind her. The last thing she wanted was for this to blow up any further; and if he knew, she was certain that the law would be involved, and before long everyone she knows would find out what happened. The thought of that was mortifying, so she resolved not to say anything to anyone.

As much as she would have liked to at that moment, she also realized that quitting wouldn't be an option. That would require some explanation on her part as well, and she didn't know how to avoid having the truth come out. So it was either continue to come to work, with her co-workers knowing what happened, and some having witnessed it directly, or quit and risk family and friends finding out. She had decided that staying at her job would be, for now, less problematic.

When her supervisor Kay called her later that evening, she dreaded answering the phone; but in the end that too was a piece of good fortune. It turns out that Kay had been in the house at the time and had found out about what happened right after Chris had left. Chris was relieved that at least her boss hadn't witnessed her humiliation, and even more so that she had demanded that people delete the relevant videos and photos. She felt a bit vindicated when she learned that Stacey and Matt had both been suspended indefinitely pending judgment by the corporate office. The thought of Stacey potentially being fired did make her feel a bit better, enough to bring a smile to her face. Kay reassured her that even though she was only part-time, the high level of care she gave to the residents was valued immensely, and that she made it clear to the others that what happened at the pool party was to go no further. Still, once it was time to actually go into work again, she was a nervous wreck. Her stomach felt like it was doing somersaults, and her hands were shaky.

The nerves hadn't gone away when she got to work, and she felt edgy all evening. Sharon, who had been at the party, awkwardly avoided her after mumbling an apology for not having helped Chris out when she asked. Even though Sharon was contrite (and even a bit embarrassed about her non-action), Chris wasn't yet ready to forgive anyone, and after not responding, she walked away angrily. Chris spend most of the evening feeling distracted and on edge, as if she were waiting for the almost normal circumstances to come crashing down. They didn't, but her continual state of distraction did result in one quite awkward encounter.

She was not really paying attention to where she was going, and coming around a corner walked headlong into Carl. The same Carl who just two days prior had been fondling her tits while Matt held her in place. She let out a gasp of surprise. Carl seemed equally startled.

"Oh! Chris. Um... hi." He blushed and quickly looked to the ground.

"I didn't... I mean... what are YOU doing here?" Chris stuttered. She had assumed that like Stacey and Matt, Carl would be on suspension. Carl didn't immediately answer, instead shifting around nervously. Images of Carl shyly rubbing and squeezing her breasts and tugging on her nipples flashed in her head. She blushed at the memory, and felt her face and chest grow warm. She could swear that she felt her nipples start to harden, which made her blush even more. After maybe half a minute of uncomfortable silence, Chris started to scamper away.

"Chris! Wait", Carl yelled. Chris stopped and turned toward him, but didn't say anything.

"Look", Carl stumbled, "I just... um... wanted to, you know... um... apologize for, you know, the, uh, other day." He was shifting nervously again. "I know I shouldn't have... well, you know," he said, vaguely gesturing in the direction of her chest. Chris glared at him.

"It's just that... well, I mean I've never had the chance to... and, well, yours are so lovely... I mean, um, YOU'RE so lovely that I..." Carl trailed off into incoherent mumbling before finally recovering himself. "Seriously, I know I shouldn't have gone along with it. I just..." He trailed off again and looked back at his feet.

Chris felt a little better about seeing him since it was clear that he legitimately felt bad about his own participation. Though, the thought that he might be sweet on her made her a bit uncomfortable. Dull-witted, plain-looking, significantly overweight and always a bit unkempt, he was hardly someone any woman would want pursuing them, much less groping at their helpless tits in front of around a dozen people. Chris certainly wasn't interested. So why, she wondered, were her nipples still hard and getting tingly? And why did her pussy feel warm?

"PLEASE don't say anything to Kay," Carl pleaded, breaking Chris' train of thought. "I don't think anyone told her about what I did, and I REALLY need this job. I'm REALLY sorry; really." Carl looked and sounded genuinely desperate, and despite what he did, Chris felt a bit sorry for him. Deep down she was sure that Carl wouldn't have done anything but stare dumbly had Stacey not egged him on.

"Fine," Chris sighed. "Let's just... let's just not talk about this anymore." Carl rapidly nodded in agreement and Chris hurried off. She was relieved that their uncomfortable encounter was at an end, but still more than a bit bothered and perplexed by how her body had responded to the memory of being held helplessly while Carl felt her up. She was sure it wasn't Carl. A thought occurred to her: was she actually turned on by thinking about the humiliation? Chris tried to push the thought aside and focus on her work. Eventually, she was too busy for the memories and thoughts to keep disturbing her.

As she set out to head home after the end of her shift, Carl sheepishly waved good-bye to her from down the hall. Immediately the memories of his hands pawing her breasts in front of everyone at the party while she squirmed in a fruitless attempt to escape Matt's grasp rushed back into her thoughts. As she felt her nipples harden again, she beat a hasty retreat. She wound up mulling over it for part of the way home. While waiting at a stoplight, she was thinking about herself buck naked, arms held up in the air displayed like a piece of meat as her attempts to escape only succeeded in making her big hanging tits jiggle about wildly. She began absentmindedly rubbing herself through her pants until the light changing startled her out of her thoughts. She finally noticed what she had been doing, and quickly returned her traitorous hand to the wheel. She jacked up the radio, singing along loudly the rest of the way home to distract herself.

She managed to push away the disturbing thoughts up until she got into the shower. As she was rubbing soap on her tits, she couldn't resist giving them a little playful squeezing. They ARE pretty fun to play with, she thought. Her nipples had been hard a lot today, and they were practically begging her for attention. She closed her eyes and began kneading her tits, tugging gently on her nipples and rolling them between her fingers. There she was again, helplessly displayed by Matt and Stacey. She was trying to pull away, but it just made her tits flail about invitingly. There was Carl. His hands were on her tits, petting and squeezing. She pulled her nipples harder and pinched them roughly while in her imagination Carl was doing the same. As Carl got on his knees to start kissing her tits, Chris' left hand slid down to her slick and hungry cunt. As she saw Carl's tongue swirling around her nipples, she began stroking her clit. Carl's hands were now intensely grabbing her ass while he sucked roughly on her tits. Stacey leaned in and whispered in her ear, "You like this, don't you, you little slut?" Chris rubbed herself faster and harder, and she was nearly panting from arousal. She could feel her body flushing. "Admit it, whore!" Stacey continued, "Admit it! You like it—you LOVE it!" Chris yelled "Yes! Yes! Yes!" as her cunt exploded with almost violent contractions and her whole body shook with pleasure.

Her pleasure rapidly turned to shame as she realized that she had just stroked herself off to an incredible orgasm to the mental images of being humiliated and groped. She prayed that her husband hadn't heard her yelling. She hadn't felt this embarrassed about masturbating since the first time she masturbated to orgasm back when she was 13. She rapidly finished her shower and prepared for bed. That night, she dreamed of being chained naked to the wall of what looked to be a prison cell, with friends, neighbors and co-workers parading by to look and pitilessly grope her body. She awoke the next day with her panties damp, feeling both ashamed and randy.

XXXXXXXXXX

Her husband had agreed to bring their daughter over to a play date with some friends for a few hours, so Chris was able to do some work in her garden. That always made her feel better, and right now she could definitely use the peace. Life, however, seems to have had other plans for her. She had finished pulling weeds and was nearly done watering when out of the corner of her eye, she noticed someone walking toward the back of her house. Her body immediately flared up in anger and her face contorted into a scowl. Stacey. To make matters worse, Stacey didn't even look upset or contrite; in fact, she looked positively pleased with herself. Chris set the hose down.

"What the hell do YOU want?" Chris growled. Instead of stopping in her tracks in the face of such hostility, Stacey walked right over to Chris and put her arm over Chris' shoulder.

"I just needed to talk with you about Saturday, and what it means for us." Chris shoved off Stacey's arm.

"What it MEANS," Chris snarled, "is that you're getting fired."

Stacey made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Oh, THAT. Don't concern yourself with that. My dad is best friends with one of the district supervisors. I can assure you that I'm not going ANYWHERE." Chris immediately deflated.

"No, it's something else entirely we need to talk about." As Stacey started walking around her, Chris shifted nervously, dreading where this might be going.

"I couldn't help but notice when I was showing off your fat little snatch just how wet you were," she said, in response to which Chris involuntarily went bright red. "And I don't mean from the water," Stacey added with a wink. Chris felt her insides flutter with embarrassment. Stacey stopped behind her and leaned over to whisper, smirking, in Chris' ear.

"You liked that, didn't you, you little slut?" Chris blanched and froze up at the words, the very same words she had imagined while masturbating the night before. Chris had been wondering that very thing ever since running into Carl at work the previous evening. Every time she thought about what had happened to her, her body responded with arousal. Now she was wondering if she had been aroused then too, but just too panicked and embarrassed to notice.

"Whu... what? N... no," Chris stumbled, instinctively trying to deny what she feared might be the truth. The heat spreading throughout her body, her rapidly hardening nipples and the moisture in her pussy belied her attempted words. Chris was breathing a bit heavier and faster than normal. She prayed that Stacey couldn't tell.

"You're lying," Stacey sneered into Chris' ear. Stacey stepped around in front of Chris, who folded her arms across her chest in a vain attempt to hide the face that her nipples were trying to poke right through both her bra and shirt. Stacey leaned into Chris again to whisper into her ear.

"Admit it, whore. Admit it. You liked it. You LOVED it." Chris realized that she KNEW the answer. She didn't want to admit it, even to herself; and it certainly wasn't the answer she wanted. But she knew. Chris dipped her head and looked away, her answer barely audible.

"yes." Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn't believe she had just said that.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Stacey cupped her hand to her ear. Chris was trembling, and her eyes watered as she struggled between the desire to tell Stacey to fuck off and the felt need to admit the truth to her. Her entire face and chest were flushed, her nipples felt swollen to near bursting, and a single tear fell down her cheek as she fought to hold back more.

"Yes." Her voice was just above a whisper now.

Stacey leaned in a bit. "You'll need to speak up, dearie," she said mockingly.

"Yes," she now said at her normal volume. Tears started flowing and she stepped back from Stacey. "Yes!" she yelled, almost hysterically. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Chris dipped her head into her hands and tried wiping away the tears. Stacey moved to stand next to her and draped a reassuring arm across her shoulders.

"There, there," she cooed while gently patting Chris on the shoulder. "Doesn't it feel better to be honest about it? Isn't it a weight off to admit it to me?"

"No," Chris barely choked out.

Stacey chuckled. "Well, you'll get used to it." Chris rapidly stepped away, her face the perfect image of shock.

"What...what do you mean 'I'll get used to it'?" Chris was trembling in fear; and maybe in excitement.

"Well," Stacey explained. "You're clearly embarrassed being displayed naked to other people... not that I blame you," she added, looking Chris over disdainfully. "But you've admitted that you also get turned on by the humiliation." Chris looked to the ground in shame, still hardly believing it herself. "So you and I are going to have a little fun with it. You're going to be my little exposure whore."

Chris looked up in horror, eyes wide and mouth slack-jawed. "No way!" She shook her head vigorously. "No way. There is no way in hell that's going to be happening!"

Stacey pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and waved around. "Oh, I think it will," she said mockingly, "since I'm sure that no matter how much you liked the humiliation, there's some things you don't want getting around to everyone you know."

"Go to hell," Chris said defiantly. "Kay already told me she had people delete the photos and videos."

"Oh, sure," Stacey said, "but she didn't know that they had already been sent to me and Matt. Never stopped to think that WE might have them." Chris looked skeptical until Stacey pulled up one of the videos on her phone and tapped it to play. There was no question what it was. She smirked triumphantly at Chris. Chris burst into tears again.

"Why? Why are you doing this to me?" she sobbed. Stacey stepped forward, took Chris' jaw in her palm and raised her head so she could stare Chris is the eyes.

"Because," she sneered, "I know how you've been saying that I'm an insufferable bitch who thinks she knows everything. You think you're better than me. Don't you?" Chris shook her head weakly. "Don't lie to me. You do," Stacey retorted. "But you're not. And YOU'RE going to be the one to prove it." Stacey laughed; a bit maliciously, Chris thought.

"Okay, my little whore," Stacey commanded, "come along. We have some work to do."

XXXXXXXXXX

Forty minutes later, Chris is in the dressing room of the local Lover's Leap. Her bras and panties are all in a garbage bag in Stacey's trunk. Stacey was adamant that if Chris was to become her exposure whore, she would have to look the part. The first step was replacing all her boring, ordinary undergarments with some that were more suitable for such purposes. Stacey has just returned to the dressing room with a number of open-cup shelf bras. Chris held one up and looked it over with a mix of awe and trepidation.

"I can't wear THESE!" she exclaimed.

"Well, it's either this or go braless," Stacey explained, "and honey, those jugs of your need the support." Chris winced. "Look, these ones have a strong underwire," she said while running her finger across is, "so your titties will get the support they need to make them jut out nicely." To emphasize the point, Stacey bounced up one of Chris' tits with her hand. "And the open cup means there'll be nothing covering those big nipples of yours." Chris couldn't help but notice that those very same nipples were currently straining against the bra she was wearing.

"All right, try it on," Stacey said, handing Chris one of the bras. Chris let out a deep sigh, slowly removed her top and bra, and put the new bra style on. She turned to look at the mirror, while Stacey tossed her last normal bra into the garbage can.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Stacey exclaimed. "See? Look how it holds your tits up and pushes them a bit forward?" Chris saw, all right. And if she was being honest with herself, she did like the way they looked in it; but she was still too filled with dread to admit it out loud.

Stacey adjusted Chris' tits a bit to make sure her entire areolae were uncovered. "There," she said proudly, "that's perfect!" She gave Chris' nipples a playful tug.

"I don't know...," Chris whined.

Stacey looked at her crossly, hands on hips. "You know, whores are supposed to be more... OBEDIENT. And appreciative." Chris blushed and looked at the floor. "Disobedient whores get punished. You don't want that, do you?"