Dare Me (new 5/11)

[neverdoubted]

Dare Me - Chapter 12 - My Nightmare (Part 2)

The same process repeated itself every few days. She would come to me with that hopeful expression holding Dave's lotion. I got to the point where I would get a boner just from seeing that stupid jar. Sometimes she would have to remove her dress like the first time, but often it was just her shirt or top.

I don't know why, but she would always wait for me to remove her bra. I think she got a kick out of watching me fumble with the latches. It was one of the few tasks at which she was more skilled than me. But my skill steadily improved each time along with my massaging technique. It probably helped that I had such an alluring partner willing to let me practice on her.

About a week later, the inevitable happened. Mom walked in on Lucy writhing excitedly between my legs in nothing but a pair of school shorts (presumably with panties underneath) while I gleefully worked the green lotion into her adorable chest. Her shirt and bra were discarded on the couch beside us.

She had been out job hunting and entered the living room to discover me giving Lucy a topless breast massage. She may not have known quite how to react but wasn't totally confused either. After all, she had seen me give Lucy similar treatments while on vacation. So, she had some context. But it was news to her that Lucy was still getting them.

Pausing briefly, she ventured forward into the room when she saw there was nothing too concerning going on. Lucy smiled brightly when she saw her. She sat down in a chair across from us to observe. The look on her face was somewhere between amused and a little jealous.

"Ohhhh, Mikey," Lucy sighed, "don't stop."

Mom's next statement actually made me blush a little. "Looks like you have a real talent Michael," she said, "maybe you should think about becoming a masseuse when you grow up."

"Mom, you have to try this stuff!" Lucy interjected, "it's soooo relaxing!"

Mom actually had tried the lotion once before. On our flight home from vacation, she had gone into the lavatory and given herself a treatment. Having spent the entire previous day sunning without her top on, she was in desperate need of relief. So, she had some experience with the stimulating side effects of Surfer Dave's secret sauce.

When I had finished with Lucy, she retreated from the room, but mom stayed and kept watching me curiously; like she was considering something. When she finally spoke, it was on a seemingly different subject.

"I think I struck out again today," she reported despondently. She had gone out every day looking for another job ever since our trip. So, it wasn't for lack of trying. But while I'm sure she made a good first impression, she wasn't supremely qualified to do much. She had married dad right out of high school and didn't have many vocational skills. Her passive personality also didn't lend itself to being a go-getter either.

"Just keep trying," I offered encouragingly, "we have enough to make it a little while longer."

Mom's severance package from her last job had been completely spent and Lucy and I were too young to get jobs. So, to take some of the burden off her, I had offered to help organize the bills and the family budget. At only 14, I should have been goofing off after school or watching TV. But instead, I would come home each day, open the mail, and organize all the "past due" notices and bills we had received that day. I had no idea how many people and companies expect you to send them money every month!

I had visited the library and checked out every book I could find on trimming household expenses and being thrifty. That's where I learned you could petition for something called a "hardship exception" and get some of the bills, like electricity and water, deferred or even totally cancelled for a short time. A single mother losing her job certainly qualified as a hardship scenario.

One book suggested a yard sale as a way to raise funds. We held one on a Saturday and made enough to get us by for another month, but it wasn't a long-term solution. Even though I couldn't work full time, I did stay alert for smaller odd jobs and opportunities. But being so young and unable to drive, I didn't have much luck. One neighbor lady asked if I could watch her three granddaughters for a few weeks over the summer while she went on a European cruise with the girls’ parents. But I turned her down. I didn't know the first thing about babysitting. What was I going to do, play pajama hide and seek all summer with three sisters I didn't even know?

Lucy had also been eager to do her part to help out. I gave her an idea I had read about to plant your own backyard vegetable garden, and she ran with it. She attacked the undertaking with typical Lucy enthusiasm. She went around to all our elderly neighbors and got them to donate their spare gardening tools to her effort. I think they were impressed with a young lady taking initiative to help provide for her family. I'm sure it didn't hurt that Lucy, with her positive attitude and perky smile, aways made a good impression.

Using advice from the book, she went to work designing a layout where all the plants would thrive in the yard. The hardest part was digging up all our grass and tilling the soil by hand. It took her a whole week of evenings, but she was persistent. She even made a tract along the side of the house to plant roses and other flowers to maybe sell.

The next weekend, I had let her use some of our funds to buy a few more necessary supplies as well as the seeds. I followed her around one hot Sunday, hauling topsoil and fertilizer while she carefully placed the seedlings according to her master plan. It was backbreaking work and took all weekend, but by the end, she had all kinds of delicious vegetables and plants growing in tidy rows all over our yard.

Mom's only assignment during that whole time was to find another job. And she was failing. She dutifully dressed up in her nicest business attire and set out every morning full of optimism. But when she returned in the evening, she always looked so defeated. Sitting across from me in the living room in her uncomfortable looking blazer and office suit, she looked like a true businesswoman who had just come home from a long day at work. The only part missing was the paycheck.

She slipped her shoes off and stretched her aching muscles, all the while eyeing the jar of lotion. I should have anticipated her next question. But I admit, I was still caught by surprise.

"Um, Michael?...I know massages are such frivolous expenses that we can't afford right now. But you know how stressful things have been lately. I could really use something to relieve the tension. Do you think you could maybe give me a massage like you gave Lucy?" she asked.

I nodded before I had even fully realized what I agreed to. When it comes to modesty, we didn't have the most traditional mother-son relationship. I had seen her in various stages of undress, especially during our vacation, and she trusted me implicitly as one of the few people in her life who wouldn't take advantage of her. None of that changed the fact that I had just agreed to give my own mother a breast massage.

She shrugged her blazer off and started unbuttoning her blouse down the front.

"Oh, thank you," she said, with relief in her voice. Before she removed her bra, she asked for confirmation. "You sure you're ok with this?"

I gulped but managed to hide my misgivings. "Sure, mom, no problem. It's like you said, maybe I will end up becoming a masseuse. If so, I'm gonna need the practice!"

Convinced to continue, she removed her oversized bra and sat down in the spot recently vacated by her daughter. I grabbed the jar and extracted a larger than normal amount of ointment. Then I reached around her to begin the massage in earnest.

I'm not going to describe it in detail. Let's just say I followed the same pattern I had used on Lucy's much smaller chest with some success. It was strange massaging mammoth melons rather than cute little apples and I did run out of lotion and had to go back to the jar for more. But the end result was exactly the same. She had started out stoically but was soon wriggling in exactly the same manner as her daughter as the stimulating chemicals took their toll.

At one point she said, "Oh, Michael, you don't even know how happy you're going to make some woman someday!" which made me blush.

I must have done a good job, because when I was finished, she didn't even move. She just lay down on the couch, still topless, and fell right asleep while I went to make dinner. I could only hope that small reprieve from her stressful life would be enough to invigorate her during her next job interview.

[LaSwamprat]

Good installments. These have so many possible future scenarios.
-Mom & Lucy sell all clothing except what's needed for work or school.
-Mother/daughter nude gardening and yard work becomes a real possibility, leading to most of the neighborhood seeing both them working their yard in the buff.
And multiple other possibilities. Keep it up.

[jojo12026]

Don't forget having to spend most time at home naked to save on washing clothes....

[anthelester121]

Good installments. These have so many possible future scenarios.
-Mom & Lucy sell all clothing except what's needed for work or school.
-Mother/daughter nude gardening and yard work becomes a real possibility, leading to most of the neighborhood seeing both them working their yard in the buff.
And multiple other possibilities. Keep it up.

While the idea of constant nudity is enticing, I'm not quite sure how it will work into the dare theme? Maybe Lucy's underwears are sold and she's dared to go around in ragged clothes?

Then again, this chapter has started quite differently from others. Interesting to see which direction it's going.

Thanks again to neverdoubted for continuing the great saga, want many more !!

[LaSwamprat]

While the idea of constant nudity is enticing, I'm not quite sure how it will work into the dare theme?

Maybe make the dare to Lucy that She has talk/trick/lure her mom into any nude situations with her before she is allowed to "manufacture" a diamond.

[neverdoubted]

Dare Me - Chapter 12 - My Nightmare (Part 3)

Her next dare request came with just a few days of school remaining. Due to a quirk in our schedule, the semester stretched into early June that year and was oddly set to end on a Monday. As May wound down, no one really wanted to be there, including the teachers.

While I had two more years of Junior High to go, in just a few more days, Lucy's elementary career would be at an end. It represented the end of an era for the Jenkins family. Beyond our time in the classrooms, that school had always been a part of us in some way; whether going to assemblies and evening recitals or viewing science projects at a fair in the gym every year in February, or just hanging out with neighborhood kids at the playground in the summers.

For every child around, it was the center of their world. But everyone knows, as time moves on and kids grow up, they rarely return to their old schools. An older teenager or lone adult seen loitering around an elementary school playground would immediately be branded a troublemaker; or worse, a creep.

It was bittersweet to think that the school might forget about our family after Lucy graduated the sixth grade and moved on. I think that's why the idea of making sure she left her mark on it before her time was up was so appealing to me. So, when the opportunity for another dare presented itself, I had already been considering ways to incorporate our little neighborhood elementary school one last time. And after what I came up with, I'm proud to say, I don't think anyone will ever forget the name "Lucy Jenkins" around those halls.

That final Thursday, a much anticipated packaged arrived in the mail. It contained a special scrapbook of photos from our vacation. The photos were professionally shot and featured Lucy and I in various scenes of the old west. Most notably, she was nearly or totally naked in every scene. That's because, for the photo shoot, and as part of an earlier dare, I had made her play the role of a notorious girl known as The Naked Bandit.

I giddily set the scrapbook in plain sight in the living room and waited for Lucy. She had gone out to check on her garden after school and make sure all her babies had enough water. She had been spraying so much water lately, I was glad we wouldn't have to pay the water bill for the next few months. When she came in, she was sweating and tracking in dirt. She was also carrying her jar of lotion in the hopes of landing a nice relaxing after-school session with her personal masseuse.

She hadn't mastered the art of tending to a garden without getting dirt everywhere yet. So, I ordered her to deposit her soiled clothes into the washing machine and come back. When she returned, she was only wearing green panties and a bra with green trim. I guess her thumb wasn't the only green thing on her body that day!

It was a cute bra with a front clasp which I am proud to report I deftly unlatched on the first try. I gave her beautifully encased swells a playful squeeze before peeling the bra open like a book and exposing her little girls to the open air. As I was reaching into the lotion, she noticed the book laying on the couch.

She perused the photos while I went to work on her naked chest. She was warm from working outside in the late spring afternoon heat and I'm sure the gel had a nice cooling effect on her bare skin. She was normally completely focused on my massage, but the book distracted her. Despite that, she still squirmed and let out adorable little whimpers as my hands worked their magic on her young orbs with the help of Surfer Dave's serum.

The pictures were amazing. And I'm not just saying that because of the gorgeous naked girl featured prominently in each one. The photographer, who by some odd coincidence was also named Dave, was truly talented. Even if she wanted to take offense at his invasion of her privacy, she had to admit, the man sure knew how to take a good photograph.

"You should take that book to school tomorrow," I teased, "I'm sure your teachers and classmates would love to see what you did on your vacation."

I had been trying to get a rise out of her. But her response was not quite what I expected.

"Forget about it! No one cares about the old west anymore, Mikey...except maybe Coach. He has stuff like this hanging up all over his office. He never shuts up about some guy named John Wayne. And he wears a holster with a real gun when we run the track after school. He says it's for protection. But I think it's just because he likes wearing it so much." she said, then added "Ooh, careful! I'm kinda sore!"

I had been continuing her breast massage as she spoke and gotten distracted by a particularly interesting photo in the book. I admit I might have squeezed her a little too hard and tweaked a sensitive spot. I eased off and continued with a lighter touch. Then an idea struck me. She had been trying to figure out some gift for Coach to thank him for organizing the school run club all year. She had come to me complaining about not having any money to spend on teacher gifts. Mom was always such a pushover that Lucy could get money whenever she wanted. But now that I oversaw the finances, she was out of luck.

"Hey, remember how you were trying to come up with a gift for Coach?" I said, half-jokingly, "you should give him your wanted poster to put up in his office!"

The poster was positively obscene. It feature naked Lucy striking a pose facing away from the camera but with her whole torso twisted in the middle. She was only wearing a pair of cowboy boots and a gun belt with holster. Her hair was done up in braids and a cowboy hat hung on her back. She was also wearing her trademark black mask. The photo was sepia and printed on a large poster. But even then, she was showing way too much skin and flesh in the photo for it to be considered appropriate to put on public display.

Like I said, I was still trying to get a rise out of her. There was no way I actually expected her to even consider it. But she didn't respond immediately. And when I realized she had gotten really quiet and a blush was forming on her cheeks, I put two and two together. I saw my moment and decided to pounce.

"That is, of course, unless you're too scared." I teased, knowing she couldn't resist my taunt. I shut my mouth and let my fingers do the talking. I traced them toward her stiff nipples and began gently rubbing the stimulating lotion directly into her sensitive areolas.

I let her imagine the possibility for a few seconds and make up her mind. When she finally spoke, it was with a soft conspiratorial tone. "I couldn't do that.... unless you...were to...Hey Mikey, do you dare me to?"

I smiled to myself. Putty in my hands. This was getting too easy.

[jojo12026]

Good set up neverdoubted. I haven't read anything nightmarish ...yet.... the buildup is slow but oh so good. This story just keeps delivering. Can't wait for more.

[neverdoubted]

Good set up neverdoubted. I haven't read anything nightmarish ...yet.... the buildup is slow but oh so good. This story just keeps delivering. Can't wait for more.

There have been a few good theories, but no correct guesses so far. The answer is coming in the next part or two.

[neverdoubted]

Dare Me - Chapter 12 - My Nightmare (Part 4)

Don't judge me! I’m not even sure it qualified as manipulating her. Ok, sure, the word literally means “to control something with your hands”. And, ok, sure, the origin of the word is “handful”. And, ok, sure, I did literally have a handful of her body and was controlling her with my hands when I got her to say the words. But that doesn’t change the fact that she said them!

She should have known by now, what she was signing up for when she uttered those two little words. She had to know. I never forced her to say it. But now that she had, there was no way I was going to let her back out. I had a reputation to maintain and had warned her in the past about saying it too flippantly. It was my duty to teach her not to be so careless.

With that in mind, I started to realize the enormity of my task. Gifting an embarrassing poster to her P.E. teacher was a good start. But I had to aim higher; especially if I was going to get a diamond this month. I owed her that much. All during dinner I pondered the puzzle.

Heat, Pressure, Time. There wasn't much time left until the end of school. Only Thursday, Friday, and Monday plus a weekend in between. The only way to produce enough heat in such a short amount of time was to amp the pressure way up. But how? I was drawing blanks until Lucy mentioned something during dinner. It ended up being the perfect opening gambit of her dare.

We were talking about the end of school, and she said how disappointed she was in herself. She had been working all semester on an idea for the end of year art contest. But our recent schedule disruptions, an unexpected vacation in May, and being tasked with planting and maintaining a garden for our household, had put her well behind. And like any artistic endeavor, tight deadlines are usually fatal to the creative process.

After dinner, I asked to see her sketch pad with an eye toward somehow drawing inspiration for her newly minted dare. Like everything she put her mind to, she was a skilled artist and very talented.

"Lucy, these are very good," I said truthfully.

Her mood improved at hearing my compliments, but she was still unsettled. "Thanks," she said, "but none of those are good enough to enter in the contest. I want to win, Mikey!"

She always did have a competitive streak. I wasn't exactly the most qualified art critic and didn't know how to advise her. Her art teacher, Mr. Morrison, was the real deal. He could spend all day lecturing on the differences between Baroque and Renaissance styles, then put on his favorite Jefferson Airplane album and talk about the importance of using art to speak truth to power. Did I mention he was a total hippy?


I didn't know about art, but I was becoming a pretty good psychoanalyst; for a 14-year-old. A big part of her problem was the subject matter of her drawings. If she wanted to win, she needed to appeal to a wider audience. We're talking about a bunch of kids who don't exactly frequent the Louvre.

She would need Mr. Morrison on her side, too. The winner was decided by a vote of all sixth graders on the last day of school. But as the art teacher, he got to choose the ten finalists. In order to be in that last group, you had to make something that spoke to him. A drawing of Bart Simpson might get a ton of student votes, but he would ensure something like that never survived to see the voting stage.

My mind made up; I spoke. "Truthfully, your drawings are incredible. But if you want to win, you need to come up with better subject matter. What does Mr. Morrison always say? Art must evoke an emotion in the beholder. And to do that, it must evoke an emotion in the artist. Otherwise, what's the point?"

Absorbing my words, she slowly nodded in agreement. As much as she hated it, she would have to go back to the drawing board, literally.

To inspire her, I ran upstairs and returned with a drawing we had gotten while on vacation. A beach sketch artist had made a funny cartoon of Lucy as a mermaid. If she wanted to be evocative, she needed to make something more like the image on that placard. Did I mention the little Lucy mermaid in the picture was topless?

"I can't draw that!" she exclaimed. "She's half-naked and obviously looks like me!"

"Do you want to win?" I shot back. "If you submit a naked self-portrait, I guarantee every boy in your grade will vote for it. Come on, I dare you!"

Her eyes fluttered as she absorbed my challenge, but absorb it, she did. Her sole counterargument was to insist Mr. Morrison would never allow something like that. I told her to let me figure that part out and to start drawing. I left her with orders to come up with five ideas and bring them to me.

I watched from the hall as she, battered but unbeaten, hesitantly picked up her sketch pad and started drawing. She made a cute scene with her brow furrowed and her lips pursed. She was free to make whatever she wanted as long as it featured a naked girl in the picture. A picture like that really did have a very good chance of winning. I just had to figure out a way to get it past Mr. Morrison.

I sat down at the dining room table, ignoring the pile of bills and notices, and brainstormed. I remember snoozing through his art elective class last year when I was a sixth grader. Like most of the boys in the class, art never did interest me much. But we always did perk up whenever he showed a classical painting with naked women in it. I took it as an encouraging sign that at least he had already set a precedence for nudity.

Wracking my brain, I tried to recall what Mr. Morrison had said about nudity in art as well as his personality in general. Figuring out what argument would most resonate with him was my best chance at convincing him to let Lucy's picture into the contest. He was from a decidedly different era and somewhat Bohemian in his attitude. As a hippy, he distrusted authority and grooved to the beat of his own drummer. And he was incredibly passionate about art and always went above and beyond to foster that passion in any students who showed an interest and affinity.

Slowly, a plan of attack formed in my mind. I needed Lucy to convince Mr. Morrison that she was more than just a burgeoning talent. She had to be a tortured artist who was capable of producing a diamond in the rough. Well, at least I knew she could produce plenty of diamonds, hehe!

But it went beyond that. She had to come across as someone whose vision for the contest was being suppressed, by social constructs, by society, by authorities. The school administration with their draconian restrictions were extinguishing her spark and she was coming to him...begging him to fight for her! Yes!

Is it inappropriate for an underage girl to submit a nude self-portrait for a school art contest? That's irrelevant. The real question is, is it inappropriate to kill the muse of a young artist before she's even really begun? Yes! Damn you, yes!

I scrambled for a piece of paper to write down some things for Lucy to say to Mr. Morrison tomorrow; arguments to convince him to let her submit her drawing. She appeared in the doorway looking every bit like a tortured artist. She clothes were askew, like she couldn't be bothered to straighten them. Her hair was also disheveled, and she had black smudges of graphite on her troubled face.

She showed me her sketches which she had helpfully given titles. They were rough and would need more work before being submitted for judging but were incredibly good. Each page seemed to be better than the last. More interesting, more alive, just...more. I was particularly partial to the fourth one, entitled "The Gathering Storm" of a girl standing in a field of tall grass, or maybe wheat; it's hard to tell from a pencil sketch. She was facing the wind and her hair was flying out behind her dramatically.

It reminded me of the storm we had endured on our vacation. I liked that she had drawn from her own recent experience for inspiration. You could only see the girl from the waist up, but she was obviously naked. I could make that work, with some suggested alterations. I was about settled on picking that one. That is, until I turned the page. On the fifth page was one last drawing entitled "My Nightmare".

[neverdoubted]

Dare Me - Chapter 12 - My Nightmare (Part 5)

Her shoulders slumped when I looked up excitedly. It was as if she already knew I was going to pick that one. Crestfallen, she sat down.

"Not that one, Mikey. Please, not that one." she begged, but only halfheartedly. She could tell from the gleam in my eye that the matter was already settled. But she had no idea how much worse things were about to get.

The picture was of a girl, obviously Lucy, at a school and giving a book report or presentation in front of her class. She was naked and completely exposed except for a small rectangle over her stomach where she was holding her note cards. Even as a rough, black and white sketch, it detailed enough to show the girl's private parts quite starkly.

It was like one of those bad dreams you would have as a kid where you showed up to school without your pants or even naked. It was just so perfect. That story resonated with every single child in the world. It evoked an emotional response in the viewer.

"This is the one," I declared, "and tomorrow I want you to show it to Mr. Morrison." I handed here the arguments and suggestions I had written down. "Memorize these and use them to convince him to let you use it as your submission for the contest. Is there any way you can make the final one in color? Like with real paints and stuff?"

"I don't have brushes or an easel. Mr. Morrison does in his class, but-"

"Perfect!" I cut her off. I was really on a roll, "tell him this is just the first draft and that you need to use his classroom on Saturday to actually make the final painting. Got it?"

She nodded sullenly, then hurried off to get ready for bed before I could think of anything else to pile on.

The next day at school, I started to worry that she wasn't putting up enough resistance. If she wasn't feeling the pressure of my dare, it would end in a dud. I decided I would have to raise the stakes even more.

When she got home, she told me about her meeting with Mr. Morrison. My arguments had worked to perfection, and by the end he was ready to take on the whole administration for the sake of her art. That's when I dropped the bomb.

"You did good, Goosey," I said honestly. She smiled sweetly at her big brother's affirmation, but she flinched adorably when she heard my voice shift into an ominous tone.

"...but now, it's time for the next part of your dare. Lucy Jenkins, I dare you to be naked all day in Mr. Morrison's classroom tomorrow while you paint your naked self-portrait."

She may have labeled it her nightmare. But I suspected deep down there was something intriguing about the prospect of being naked in school. I mean, everyone imagines it at some point in their life, right? It's a good thing her big brother was around to help her explore the full depths of her interests and get her to actually try it out.

I gave her a few more embarrassing particulars to flesh out the day's task, and she did not fight me on it. Instead, she turned her nervous energy toward facing it head on. And the next day, she dutifully got on her bike without arguing determined to honor the dare and follow through. Her will was so strong, and she never failed when given the chance to rise to the occasion. It was the uncertain curve balls that always threw her for a loop.

Mr. Morrison's classroom was on the second floor facing the playground. In the afternoon, it got pretty good natural light through the full-length window. I was counting on that for her dare. It was the last Saturday of the semester, so the building would be locked and deserted. No faculty would care to work on that Saturday. But Mr. Morrison said he would be there to let her into the building and had promised to give her privacy while she created her art.

Remember what I said about older teens loitering around a playground? I didn't want to be branded a weirdo. And I also didn't want to get recognized as Lucy's big brother. But I wasn't about to miss the show she was about to put on for the playground. So, even though it was going to be a hot day, I put on a hoodie and baseball hat to stay incognito.

The classroom was tucked at a weird angle and the only way to really see in was to climb the hill on the far side of the playground. When I arrived, I knew exactly where to go on the hill because there was already a group of neighborhood kids standing around peering across the expanse toward the school.

Lucy was still setting up her easel and other paint supplies in the optimum position. She intended to use Mr. Morrison's free-standing mirror. But she was also close enough to the window to take advantage of the afternoon sun which would soon be streaming in through the window.

Even clothed, the presence of a lone student inside the school attracted attention. Luckily, they were younger, mostly fifth graders, and no one recognized me. I was able to stay anonymous and listen to their chatter throughout the presentation.

"...It's Lucy Jenkins, I swear! I would recognize those legs anywhere."

"What is she doing in Mr. Morrison's class?"

"Wow, you are such a retard sometimes. She's going to paint something, of course. He must have let her into the school."

"Dude, she's so hot. I should ask her out."

"...like you would ever have a chance with her, idiot."

"I wish we could get closer. I can't see shit from here. Hey, doesn't your dad have some hunting binoculars?"

"Hey, yeah! I'll run home and get them!"

"...Billy Benson swears he saw her sleepwalking naked once when they were little!"

"Yeah? well, Billy Benson is full of shit."

"I heard she sneaks up here at night and runs around the track naked."

"Huh, maybe those kids from the History Club weren't lying. Remember what they said about Lucy giving a presentation dressed as a Roman slave girl? Hey look, she's taking her shoes and socks off."

"Oh yeah. I thought they were exaggerating...hey, didn't Josh and Adam think they saw a naked girl a few months ago while riding their bikes to school? Maybe that was Lucy!"

"Fat chance. I'll believe it when I se-HOOOOOLEEEEEY SHIT. SHE JUST TOOK HER SHIRT OFF! WE HAVE A BRA sighting!"

"...now she's taking her shorts off too! I can't believe Lucy Jenkins is changing into painting clothes right in front of the window! Doesn't she know people can see in from here?"

"...no, dude, look! Holy Shit. She just took her bra off. I don't think she's changing clothes. I think she’s going to paint BUCK NAKED!!!!!!"

The group literally cheered when her cute panties hit floor. If she could hear the cheer from her second story class, she did a pretty good job tuning it out. In fact, she managed to completely ignore the window and stay focused on her canvas. The boys outside went wild as the girl of their dreams stood completely naked in clear view of the playground and went about her work.

"...I heard she went on vacation to a nude beach and spent the whole time tanning completely naked."

"That's bullshit. There's no way!"

"You tell me. Do you see any tan lines on her?"

"Guys, look! She just walked out of the classroom! She's probably going to the bathroom. That means Lucy Jenkins, the hottest girl in school is walking down the halls completely naked. We've gotta get inside that school!"

"It's Saturday. All the doors will be locked - but I'll go check them just in case."

"...hey guys, I got the binoculars. What did I miss?"

The boys eagerly lined up for a chance to look through the binoculars at the smoking hot girl who was painting naked inside their school. They came to several consensus conclusions about her. 1. She did, in fact, have no tan lines anywhere on her body. 2. She had the best butt of any girl in the school. 3 Her boobs were the best in the school...except maybe a similarly blessed girl named Grace. But Lucy won the tie breaker because no one had seen Grace naked (I had to laugh at that one). 4. Her pussy was completely bald. A dispute broke out among them as to whether she was bald because shaved down there or just hadn't grown any pubic hair yet. I knew the answer but bit my tongue and stayed out of it.

The comments drifted more and more obscene as the boys took turns bragging what they would do to her if they were allowed in that classroom. It almost became a contest to see who could outdo the others. I'm not going to repeat the things they said, but let's just say it was bad enough to make me consider speaking up in her defense and risk getting identified as her brother. Fortunately, another boy came to her rescue and disrupted the contest.

"Guys, you shouldn't be saying things like that about her behind her back." he said with as much conviction as he could muster.

"Shut up, Luke," replied one of the delinquents, "it's not like she's your girlfriend. You had all year to ask her out and you were too chicken."

The boy named Luke bristled at the insult. In the sea of fifth graders, he was one of the few who came from sixth grade. Even puffed up, he didn't even come up to my nose. But that's understandable since he was a year younger than me. Still, it was impressive that he held his ground against the threat of trouble from the younger boys. Maybe the 'chicken' accusation had been poorly played.

"It doesn't matter if she's my girlfriend or not. It's not right, so knock it off!" he ordered. He stood tall for a tense few seconds waiting to see if anyone would make a move. But nobody wanted to challenge him. They turned their attention back to watching the naked girl in the window and kept their comments at a more age-appropriate level for the rest of the day.

Lucy worked on her self-portrait all afternoon. She would stand in front of the mirror studying her bare body, then turn to her easel and paint. A couple times, she left the room entirely, probably for a bathroom break. Everyone got excited when that happened. Their poor underdeveloped brains could barely process that there was a naked girl wandering through the halls of their school. She was so close, yet still unreachable.

The kid who had gone to look for a way into the school returned emptyhanded. At evening, the room lost its sunlight and was thrown into shadow. I had instructed her to open the blinds wide first thing under the guise of wanting natural light by which to paint her masterpiece. But she was under no such obligation after dark.

Still, most kids stuck around even after darkness fell in the hopes she would turn on the classroom lights to finish up. They let out a collective groan when the classroom did light up and they realized she had pulled the blinds down first. Their sexy peep show was over. They lingered for a while hoping to catch her leaving the school. But having spent all day on a hillside in the hot sun, they were lured home one-by-one by the prospect of dinner and a glass of water. I slipped away, happy to have remained anonymous.

It was well after dark when she finished her portrait. She stored her masterpiece in a cubby Mr. Morrison had prepared for safe keeping, got dressed, and walked home. As I expected, she was buzzing with excitement when she got home. Sure, she had been naked in the presence of many strangers before. But it was different showing your naked body to people you went to school with every day. Even though they had only seen her from a far distance, it must have been nerve wracking knowing all those familiar faces were out there watching.

When she got home, I asked her if she saw how many of her school mates had gathered to watch her nude performance. She said she managed to avoid looking out the window all afternoon and keep focus on painting. Only when she went to close blinds at the end of the day did she dare to peer out from the safety of her dark classroom and see the crowd of horny boys gathered on the hilltop across the playground.

Then I asked her about Luke. She said she only knew him as a shy boy in her class. She thought he was cute but had never really interacted with him much. When I told her how he had defended her honor, she practically melted. I swear I saw her pupils dilate and literally morph into a heart shape. I said nothing more about it but noted her intense reaction, filing it away for future use.

I sensed she was more on edge when I saw her the next morning. Honoring the rules of the dare, she was not allowed to play with herself, even in the privacy of her own bed at night. I think that was contributing to her nervous energy. I was getting pretty good at judging her body's heat levels and currently gauged it at an elevated but manageable level. Fortunately, being Sunday, she had no outside responsibilities and could spend the day taking care of her garden and relaxing before what I was planning as her spectacular grand finale - Lucy's official last day of elementary school.