tagMind ControlWhile You Were Out

While You Were Out


I woke with a start. The last thing I remembered was watching TV with my college roommate Ellen. The holes in my memory were filled with brief flashes of images, perhaps they were dreams - dreams involving a pendant and Ellen's voice.

Now, here I was, no longer in the living room, but waking up in bed. I relaxed as soon as I realized it was my own room - my own bed. But, when I looked underneath the covers, my discovery left me feeling suddenly frightened and vulnerable. I was stark naked -- and I never slept naked. I always wore a T-shirt and panties.

What had happened between last night and this morning? Maybe Ellen would know.

Ellen. I wondered if she had seen me naked. If she was the one who put me to bed, then she must have. But why? A joke maybe. She was always one for playing practical jokes - at my expense. She had short-sheeted my bed several times, put salt in the sugar bowl, and removed all the toilet paper from the bathroom. The very worst was one night when she was filling her car up with gas, she sent me in to pay. When I came back out, neither she nor her car were anywhere to be found. It was in a bad part of town and I was terrified. I was crying by the time she pulled up to the door. She was parked at the side of the store with her lights off the whole time. I was perfectly safe. But still...

But this joke, if it was a joke, left me feeling almost as uneasy as that night.

One thing was for sure, I needed to find Ellen and get to the bottom of the mystery of my missing clothes and the missing hours last night. But, first I had get out of bed and put some clothes on.

It was then I made another discovery. All my drawers were empty except for my panty drawer and my sock drawer. Only *my* panties weren't in my panty drawer. My comfortable cotton under things had all been replaced with lingerie, smaller and sheerer than anything I'd ever wear. My sensible hose and socks had also been replaced with outlandish looking stockings and thigh highs. My bras? Gone. Every last one.

I shivered as goose bumps covered my body. Maybe this was a very bad joke, or maybe I had woken up in the twilight zone. Like one of those episodes where the victim wakes up in her room, but where everything else in the world is different. Where everything and everyone are the exact opposite of how they should be. All of a sudden, I desperately needed contact with someone familiar - even a mean-spirited roommate.

"Ellen!" I called. "You've had your fun. Now where are my clothes?"

By this time I hoped Ellen was behind this. But where was she? It wasn't like her to be up at this time of the morning. She wasn't exactly what you would call motivated.

I did the only thing I could. I had to wear something, so I put on the items in my drawer. A thong. Butt-floss. It felt like it was a size too small as it tightly hugged my sex and divided the cheeks of my bottom. There were only two items in my closet. A small pleated skirt and a white blouse. Having no other options available, I put them on and went to look for Ellen.

The door to Ellen's bedroom was locked. I beat on it for several minutes and called out her name, but there was no answer. I peeked out the front window; her car wasn't in its park.

Next, I did the only thing I could think of when all else fails. I called home to mom.


"Hi mom, it's me."

"Hi pumpkin. . .it's early."

Her voice was still groggy from sleep.

"I know," I said. "I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Is there something wrong?"

I thought about telling her what had happened this morning, but I didn't want to worry her. But maybe I should. . .

"Unh. ." Out of the blue, my fingers tweaked my nipple, and traveled down to my crotch.

"What is it honey?"

"Ahhh," Of their own volition, my fingers found slipped into the tight confines of my panties and teased my clit. "It's nothing."

"Come on honey. You can tell me. What is it?"

My God, I was playing with myself while my mother was on the phone. What in the world was wrong with me? It was so kinky - so forbidden - so wrong. And yet my sex was boiling hot.

"It's nothing mom." My fingers tweaked my nipples. It was all I could do to suppress a moan. Nothing mom, I woke up naked, all my clothes are gone, and now I'm masturbating while I'm talking to you on the phone.

My fingers grew more insistent. I could hear wet noises from my sex. I *had* to get off the phone before she found out what I was doing. Most of all - I needed to get off the phone so that I could *get off*. "I was just - ahh" Two finger pressed home into my sex. I had to wait till they withdrew before I could talk again. "I was just homesick and needed to hear your ah - voice."

"Oh- that's so sweet honey. You've made my day. Are you sure everything is okay? Do you need money? You know we don't have much but. . ."

My hand palmed my sex and squeezed. I was only a hair's breath from orgasm.

"Everything is fine mom. It's - ah- perfect." I said. "I'll talk to you later, okay."

"Okay, bye sweetie."

"Bye mom."

I hung up the phone and my fingers gave my sex a squeeze before withdrawing. God, what kind of pervert was I to be masturbating while talking to my own mother. Was it because of the clothes I was wearing? No, that was silly, but they did make me feel like a sinful little catholic schoolgirl. My wet gleaming digits still teased me.

God - with my very own mother. What was I thinking? Suddenly, I needed a shower. A cold shower. I tore my fingers from beneath my panties and went to wash my sins away.

If I couldn't find Ellen, I was going to have to go to school in that short skirt. Freshly shaven legs would be a necessity. Thoughts of going out, of people seeing me in those clothes, had me in a bother. I would be so vulnerable...so exposed. I had never worn anything like them in my life. I was a geek, plain and simple. In grade school, they called me 'four-eyes'. I was too poor to wear fashionable clothes like the other girls. Too poor for contacts. I was an outcast.

It wasn't so bad. Since I didn't have a social life, I threw myself into my studies. I graduated at the top of my class, and I got a full scholarship to college. For once it looked like I had real hope to change my lot in life. Hope that I would get a nice job, nice clothes, a good man, and a nice car. Once I had them, I would go back to my hometown. They would all be positively green with envy over my success.

Then I thought of them seeing me in the outfit I selected from my closet. The boys lecherously looking at my hard nipples, with no bra, the shape of my pert breasts, visible through the tight blouse. The girls looking at me, acting superior, and their noses wrinkled in disgust.

My sex was hot and wet. I reached up and tweaked my nipples, pulling and pinching them harder than usual. I bit back a moan. My fingers ran through the lips of my sex, touching my clit. The feeling was electric.

As I shaved my legs, I got this crazy idea in my head. My pubes would show to each side of the small thong. I lathered my sex with the shaving gel, and proceeded to give myself a trim - only due to the smaller cut of the panties of course. Each pull of the razor through my short curly hair, sent a stab of pleasure deep in my sex. It felt good, but I called it quits once I had the shaped a tight cornered triangle above my sex.

I put up the razor, and then my hands came up and tweaked my nipples. I was going to turn on the water to rinse away the lather, but instead my fingers tweaked my nipples again, pulling them out and twisting at the same time. They were already hard from the cold water. Now they were tight and throbbing.

"Oh God," I gasped as pleasure turned to mild pain. The pain grew from mild to uncomfortable. Fuck I was hot.

In a sexual haze, I picked the razor back up and shaved some more. Each subtraction of hair left me more and more exposed - more and more vulnerable - more and more aroused - until I had totally denuded my sex. .

I rinsed off and stared at my sex in disbelief. It was bare . . . bald . . . completely nude. I no longer looked like a grown woman, but a young girl. Worse, the razor had left my sex red and irritated. My arousal left it swollen and thick. I stuck a finger down there and tried to bring myself off. But, the more I tried, the clumsier my fingers became.

Cold and horny, I finally gave up on achieving orgasm and got out of the shower to towel dry. All my makeup was gone. The only thing that remained was a pink tube of lip gloss, blue eye shadow, and blush for my cheeks. I put my hair up in a pony tail and dressed. My sensible shoes were also missing. My only choices were red heels or black. I chose black. I put on a pair of white thigh-high stockings, topped with two small bows at the outside of each thigh.

I looked in the mirror and gasped at my own reflection. I was a Catholic schoolgirl gone bad. Part innocent - part slut. Half geek - half tart.

I gave a small twirl, causing my pleated skirt to rise, flashing my panties and the cheeks of my bottom. God it was daring. My hardened nipples poked out obscenely through the thin white blouse. I couldn't go to school like this. I dared not. And yet I had to go to my class. My fingers delved below my skirt and pushed the crotch of my panties into my hungry sex. God, I was so aroused. Yes, I could go to class. I would just have to be careful - oh so very careful. There would be no twirling in my short pleated skirt. I would pray that it wasn't windy.

I grabbed my book bag and left the apartment to go catch the bus.

I soon learned that there were other things to worry about besides twirling. As I walked up the steps to the bus, I heard whispers behind me.

"Did you see that?" "Wow, I don't think she's wearing panties."

My cheeks warmed in embarrassment. It wasn't true. I was wearing a thong, only they couldn't see it. I grabbed the back of my skirt as quickly as I could and pressed it tightly to my backside to avoid further exposure. Every eye, both male and female leered at me and followed me to my seat. The back of the bus was nearly empty, so I sat there to avoid as many of the other students as I could.

My privacy didn't last long. The seat next to me and in front of me was quickly filled by the boys who got on the bus behind me. One of them had made the comment about me not wearing panties earlier. I wondered which of them had seen my bare ass. Maybe both of them. I was mortified, yet I found myself squeezing my thighs together.

"Hey, what's your name," one asked.

"Tina." I replied shyly.

"Have I seen you before?"

"Maybe." They had seen me before. They had ignored me almost all year until this very moment.

"I'm Keith," said the boy sitting in front of me.

"And I'm Mike," said the one beside me.

"Hi Mike. Hi Keith." They were both very cute, but they only wanted one thing. The one thing I promised myself long ago to wait for the right guy and the perfect moment. Yet promise or no, I was wet and nervous, and they were very hunky. My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my skirt. They both kept looking at my chest and try to catch a peek beneath my skirt.

"Can I get your phone number?"

"I don't have one." I lied.

"You don't have a phone?"


"Yes you do."

"No I don't. I live in a box." This wasn't like me talk like this. It felt liberating. It was nice to have some attention for once. It was nice not to be ignored.

"Mmm...I bet it's a tight box," he said. "Tight and hot."

He wasn't even looking at my eyes, he was looking at my crotch, and being obvious about it. My cheeks grew hotter as I followed his gaze to my pink panties, peeking from the bottom of my pleated skirt. My bare sex was visible beneath the thin sheer fabric. I quickly tugged my hem down and crossed my legs. I was covered again, but not by much. One false move and. . .

"That's a very crude thing to say," I said in an effort to take his eyes from my crotch.

"Yeah Keith," Mike chimed in. "That was crude." To me: "Don't mind him, he isn't very civilized. I'm different."

I glanced down, this time my eyes wandering to Keith's crotch. The outline of his swollen cock was visible through his baggy shorts. "Yeah, sure you are."

"So, would you like to go out somewhere tomorrow night?"

"It's a school night."


"So I have to study for an exam."

"How about Friday?"

His eyes were now glued to my chest. I could feel my nipples harden under his gaze. I crossed my legs the other way. I couldn't seem to get comfortable. "Where would we go?"

"Dinner and a movie."

"Okay, be at my box at 7:00"

"But you don't live in a box. Come on Tina, what's your phone number?"

"755-5035," I said, making up a phone number. "You got that?"

"Yes, 755-5035," he repeated, writing the number on his hand.

"No, 755-9039," I said, giving another fake number.

"Okay, I got it."

"Oh, I'm sorry, that was my old number," I said. Perfect timing, the bus had stopped at school, and was now letting everyone off. "Sorry guys, I'm late for class. Call me."

As I tried to squeeze past Keith, he picked that exact moment to stand. I was trapped between the seat in front and his hips against my rear - his hard cock pressed between the cheeks of my bottom. I was suddenly overcome with panic. I squirmed in fear, and began to climb out overtop the seat in front, regardless of my exposure.

"Hey," Keith said. "Take it easy."

He moved aside and I fled down the aisle of the bus.

"Wow," one of them said.

"Prick tease," said the other, as I hastily retreated.

My panic calmed as I walked to class. I could feel the hem of my skirt swish against my thighs with every step. Air blew beneath my short skirt on my naked ass, cooling the crotch of my damp panties. My bare nipples stuck out from my blouse like dark raspberries. My heels clacked with every step, drawing attention to my display. I grew so aroused I could barely walk. 'Tease' he called me. Something about that word sent shivers down my spine. 'Prick tease' I pressed my thighs together. God, I was so wet.

It was true; I had teased those boys mercilessly. I had never done such a thing before, and yet, and yet, I enjoyed it. It turned me on. What was happening to me? What was I turning into? I vowed not to do it anymore.

It was harder than I imagined. It's like telling someone, "Don't think of an elephant." How can they not? I had the same problem throughout the day. I caught myself toying with the hem of my skirt, so I pulled my hands away. The next thing I knew, they were toying with the bows at the top of my stockings. Or the buttons of my blouse. Was it my imagination, or did my ass have a little more wiggle?

By lunch, I was in a real state. My body was alive with so many new sensations. The teasing. The stares. Even my own thighs squeezing together. The thong had worked itself into a permanent wedgie. The crotch was soaked by my excitement. By lunch, I couldn't take it anymore and hurried to the bathroom for relief.

I had never dared do such a thing before. To be in a public place, even behind a locked door, it was still possible for someone to see, to catch me in the act. But, by then, I didn't care. I was desperate for sexual relief.

I secured the door to the stall, and hung my backpack there on the hook. I squatted on the commode and thrust one hand into my panties, the other toyed with my nipples through my thin blouse. Oh so good. I bit my lip to suppress a moan. My outlaw fingertip made a circle around my moist swollen clit, traveled to my wet hole, toyed with the opening for bit, and then withdrew. My other hand pulled at my hard nipples, making them stick out obscenely through my sheer blouse. The sensation was almost too much for my overly sensitized nipples.

It was then I knew something was very wrong. My fingers should have been working my button, rushing me to orgasm, as they had done many times before. Instead it was as if they had a mind of their own. One hand teasing me, the other toying with my nipples in rough, almost painful manner.

I gave my hand an order. Circle-circle-circle-right over my clit-fuck make me come. Despite my order, it followed its own script. My finger slipped easily into the opening of my gushing wet sex and then withdrew, no matter how hard I concentrated on keeping it there, thrusting inside of me. Then it moved to my face and tried to force its way into my mouth.

'No' I commanded it. 'Stop. Go back down. Fuck me. Make me cum.'

A painful pull on my nipples caused me to gasp. My finger plunged into my mouth. I tasted my sex for the first time.

What was wrong with me? I didn't have control over my body anymore, and it scared the hell out of me. I quickly slid my panties up and did my best to get myself together. I needed to get home - immediately.

Something was wrong. I didn't do things like this. Not on the phone with my mom, and not like I behaved on the bus. Whatever was wrong, I wasn't going to learn what was happening by fooling around with myself in the restroom. Once I found out from Ellen what happened to my clothes, I felt certain I would be able to determine what had happened to my body...and my mind.


I was relieved when I saw Ellen's car in our apartment parking lot. She was on the sofa, drinking beer and eating popcorn, while watching TV. She saw me and grinned.

"Hey Tina," she giggled, checking me out from top to bottom. "Nice threads."

"Very funny Ellen," I said. "Where are my clothes?"


"I'm serious Ellen. Where are they?"

"They are seriously at the Goodwill store."

"Give them back," I threatened. "Or I'm going to take yours."

"You look cute," she said. "Better than I expected. But I don't like the pony tail. Pigtails would have looked adorable."

I felt myself blush at her comments. However, I knew I should be furious for what she had done, instead of worrying over some stupid half compliment.

"You don't think I'll do it?" I warned. This conversation was getting nowhere. I turned to go raid her closet and make my point with her clothes. I'd burn them if I had to. "Watch me."

"Stop," she barked. "Now go put your hair in pigtails. *That's an order*."

"Fuck you." I felt a sharp pain. First, on my bottom, and then my breast.

"Ow! Ow" I danced to get away from what felt to be stinging bees, but they didn't cease. I looked down in horror. They weren't bees, but my very own fingers. Pinching me again and again of their on volition. "Ow - ow -fuck!" I continued to dance ineffectually.

"The only way to make it stop is to put your hair in pigtails."

I couldn't think due to the pain in my bottom and breasts. She had me. I had no choice but to obey. I spun quickly, causing my skirt to twirl up, exposing naked flesh for my pinching fingers.

"Stop," she said, before I could leave the room.

I froze in place.

"Turn around."

"Good girl," she said, still smiling smugly. "Now curtsey and say, 'Yes, ma'am,' before you leave the room."

I summoned up all the willpower I possessed. "No!" I screamed. "Fuck you Ellen."

"That's an order missy."

"No-no-no-no" I cried. My fingers pinched and pinched; the pain growing from mild discomfort to outright pain. "Please Ellen. . .I'm begging you. This isn't right."

Ellen smiled without a hint of compassion.

I clasped the hem of my skirt, raised it slightly, bent at the knees, and surrendered. "Yes, ma'am."

"Again," Ellen said. "But bend deeper and raise your skirt higher."

It was awkward bending at the knees wearing high heels, but I managed. I raised my skirt, exposing my tight-tiny panties. The constant teasing throughout the day had left the crotch stained from my arousal. I felt my cheeks burn with humiliation.

"Good girl. Always do that when you leave or come in my presence. Now go put in your pigtails. And bring that wooden hairbrush back with you," she added.

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