Pantsing and Stripping Forums

The school festival begins, the most important event of the year where many families and all the students of the school attend without fail. But the shy little Komari will be the worst day of her whole life. Being an extremely shy and reserved girl she was somehow forced to participate in the festival, an event that she hates with all her being because of her antisocial personality. And as if it were a divine punishment for not appreciating the festival, Komari will be involved in many humiliating events of the Festival, being seen naked being the least of her worries.

Author's Note: It's my first time writing and publishing ENF content, although my English is not very good, I hope you still enjoy it, try to capture the essence of the ENF stories that I love reading so much.

The roar of the school festival crashed into my ears, a discordant tide of noise that left me reeling. The air tasted of a cloying, artificial sweetness that clung to the back of my throat, floating down the hallways like a thick, invisible mist. For everyone else, this day marked the pinnacle of the academic year, a kaleidoscope of neon banners and frenzied laughter. For me it was a sensory execution. I hunched my shoulders, trying to merge with the masonry. My school jacket, three sizes bigger, looked like a heavy woolen shrine, a cave of fabric that I was hoping would swallow me whole. I prayed that the ground would simply dissolve, transporting me back to the sacred, dusty silence of the library, where the only judgments came from the ink-stained pages of novels and the setting of the old paper provided a shield against the world. I pressed my current book against my sternum and the rough grain of the cover bit my palms. I wanted to disappear. Every laugh that echoed off the linoleum walls felt like a precisely guided dart aimed at my shoulder blades. I clung to the perimeter of the hallway, sliding along the walls and intentionally stopping at the scuff marks on the floor to avoid the predatory glances of any human being.
Then a voice, high-pitched and penetrating enough to shatter glass, cut through the ambient noise and incinerated my peace.

"Komari! I finally found you!" The scream shook me. My book slipped from my numb fingers, hitting the floor with a thud. I turned my head with the slow, mechanical fear of a condemned prisoner. It was Emilia, the leader of the drama club. She stood there, radiating an intensity that seemed physically exhausting. Her smile was too wide, her long or dark hair was moving in the wind, and her blue eyes were walking with a brightness that verged on the manic. Her chest was huge and she had big curves, the opposite of my decrepit disgusting otaku appearance, a short and thin girl of about 152 cm. With a constant scared expression, short reddish hair and tousled with bangs. I was always someone extremely shy and antisocial, I have no friends and I spend my time reading novels in the library. Before I could calculate an escape route, Emilia's hand held my wrist tightly. His grip was surprising, a vice of warm skin and iron will.

"Stop making that face! You look like a scolded puppy!" Emilia didn't let go of me. Instead, he leaned in, his smell was something like strawberries and a hint of mischief overwhelming my senses.
"I need you. Do you remember that the teacher forced everyone to join the club activities? You volunteered as a backup if someone went missing, remember?" The memory came to light, a distant and blurred spot. I remembered the moment of weakness, a bet based on the assumption that the probability of a vacancy on the busiest day of the year was statistically zero. It turned out that fate possessed a sadistic sense of humor.

"B-But no... i-I don't think i-is necessary..."

"Too late! We have an emergency. One of our girls had a fever and the House of Horrors cast is incomplete. You're our new hero, Komari!" Emilia did not wait for a rebuttal. She turned around and started dragging me through the halls. My feet barely grazed the ground, my body swayed like a rag doll dragged like a child who did not want to go to the dentist. I remained in my perpetual state of collapse: shoulders curved inward, hair spilling out of my messy ponytail, and a look of pure, unadulterated terror etched on my features. People stopped to stare at me. I could feel his cold, curious, mocking eyes. I could almost hear his internal monologues: “Is he seventeen? Why does he dress like a tramp? Those books are for children. Look how she shudders” The heat rose to my neck, a scorching crimson tide that flooded my cheeks and burned my ears.

We arrived at the assigned classroom. The space had been destroyed and reborn as an underground cavern. Cotton cobwebs hung from the ceiling like suffocating shrouds, and strobe lights flickered with a rhythmic, jarring intensity that fragmented the room into jagged portions of vision. Heavy concession tables were strewn about and the air was thick, smelling of damp paint, damp cardboard and old dust.
Emilia ignored my confused look. She led me to a corner where heavy midnight black velvet curtains separated the performance area from the dressing area. With a sudden and energetic push, she pushed me towards the dark enclosure. "I'll be honest with you," Emilia said, her voice dropping an octave, echoing in the small space. "I didn't think you'd really have the guts to leave your cave of books to help us."

"I... N-No... Alone… p-professor..."

"The 'why' doesn't matter. The 'what' he does. We have a vacancy," he explained, crossing his arms. "Like I said, a girl is out. Probably because this place is too scary for the weak. But you... you look like someone who lives in a permanent state of terror. You're a natural."

"What the s-should I do? I-I don't want to talk."

Emilia smiled. It was not his usual cheerful ray. Her cheeks wore a slight pink color and a spark of genuine malice danced in her pupils. It was the look of a cat that had finally cornered a particularly shaky mouse. "It's simple. Our topic is Ancient Egypt. Specifically, mummies. And because we are a team, each member has to wear an authentic mummy set." Mummies. I felt a wave of relief bathing me. Bandages. Just wrapping some gauze strips over my clothes. It was a cliché, a lazy costume idea, but it was safe. I could hide my face under layers of white cloth.

"M-Me po-'ll get b-bands. I-I understand" I muttered, with a small trembling sigh escaping my lips. I waited for the bandages. Instead, Emilia reached for a huge package of gauze. The fabric was whitish, yellowed by age and the smell of the old warehouses. He dropped it on the table with a loud, definite thud. The silence that followed was dense, vibrating with an energy that I could not decode.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Take off your clothes." The air disappeared from my lungs for a moment. I froze, my gaze darted from the pile of yellowed fabric to Emilia's expectant face. "W-What...? M-My clothes w-what is t-talking about?"

"To be a mummy, you can't have clothes on underneath. Bandages should be wrapped directly against the skin. Even a pair of panties would ruin the silhouette; you would look like a potato sack wrapped in toilet paper. We want a definite shape, even if, in your case, the shape is very... You..."

My heart hit my ribs like a trapped bird. Panic rose up my throat, thick and choking. "N-No! N-Never! I-I can't d-do that!"

"Don't be childish. We're in a drama club; he acts like a professional. Besides, what does it matter? It's not like I'm asking you to do this in front of the guys." i stood there, shaking and holding the bandages, while Emilia watched me with a predatory intensity. I started to take off the oversized jacket and the rough fabric brushed my skin. I noticed that she hadn't moved. She remained rooted to the spot, her eyes following the movement of my fingers while I fiddled with the buttons of my blouse. When the first button opened, his gaze slid to my chest and his smile widened.

"G-Get out of here! G-Get out so I can c-change into p-peace!"

"Oh, you're so shy," Emilia joked, although she didn't take a step back. "I really don't know why you're so embarrassing. There's nothing I haven't seen before. Okay, little mouse. I'll leave. I'll stay right outside the curtain, guarding the entrance. We wouldn't want someone curious to find you naked while you're changing, would we? Although... that would be fun. Don't take too long; the line for the attraction is already forming."

The sound of his footsteps retreating and the soft rustle of the curtain closing brought a momentary and fragile sense of security. She was alone in the gloom, the faint light filtering through the velvet. My hands shook violently when I finished unbuttoning my shirt, the garment slipped off my shoulders and accumulated on the floor. I took off the pleated skirt and the fabric fell with a soft thud. Finally, I grabbed my underwear and removed the elastic from my hips. I stood there, completely naked. The cold air of the classroom hit my skin like a physical blow, causing a violent shiver in my body. Little goosebumps broke out on my pale arms and thighs. I felt microscopic, a nerve exposed. I glimpsed myself in the darkness: my chest was a flat expanse of porcelain, my ribs traced faint, fragile lines against my skin as I gasped for air. The cold forced my nipples to harden until they reached tight and sensitive peaks.

I wrapped my arms around myself. The softness of my own skin was the only comfort I had, but the vulnerability was overwhelming. Just a few centimeters away, separated by a thin and cheap piece of cloth, there were dozens of students and parents. The thought of someone crossing that threshold and seeing me like that turned my blood to ice. I imagined the laughter, the cruel comments about my lack of curves. I felt like a prey waiting for a predator. The distant roar of the crowd grew louder, punctuated by the rhythmic thump of the bass from another club's loudspeaker. Then, Emilia's voice drifted through the curtain. Are you done yet, Komari? You've been there for four minutes. Don't tell me you fainted because of nerves?" Before I could muster a response, Emilia came over. She did not merely pull the curtain; she pulled it with a sudden and violent force.

* CRACK.*
The sound echoed throughout the room like a gunshot. The cheap metal rail groaned and snapped, the whole velvet curtain went out of its way and collapsed to the ground in a single useless pile of fabric. I felt the world stopped. Suddenly I was bathed in the harsh and unapologetic glare of the ceiling spotlights. I froze, my heart would skip a beat and then hit with a frequency that made my vision blurry. I turned my head slowly and the sight before me seemed like a death sentence. It wasn't just Emilia. Three girls and two girls from the club were frozen there. And behind them, a whole group of students who had entered the room to admire the scenery.

All the eyes in the room were focused on me. The surprise on their faces changed at a terrifying speed. Curiosity turned into wide-eyed shock and then a slow, poisonous wave of malicious amusement began to spread. I saw myself through her eyes: a pale, trembling, red-haired girl, stripped of every shred of dignity, standing in the center of a spotlight. My hands flew up, but they were too small. I crossed my arms over my chest, but my fingers only covered the center of my breasts, leaving the lower curves and pale bottom exposed. My other hand reached out to cover my groin, but the awkward angle only served to highlight the stark whiteness of my inner thighs and the vulnerable curve of my hips.

"AAAAH!" The scream tore from my throat a sharp, irregular sound of pure despair. It was a noise I didn't know I was capable of emitting, the sound of a soul being skinned alive. I collapsed inward, bending my knees and hunching my shoulders, trying to bend into a singularity where I could disappear. A wave of heat surged through me, a phantom burn of shame that ran from my fingers to the tips of my ears. The silence that followed the scream was more agonizing than the noise. It was a void filled with hungry eyes, scanning every inch of my anatomy and documenting the flatness of my chest and the fragility of my body. "G-get out! C-Close your eyes! N-No, look! G-Get out of here!"

"I-I'm sorry! I swear it wasn't on purpose!" Emilia screamed, although she didn't move immediately and was still laughing. "E-Emilia! Put the damn curtain back in place! He-Help me! P-Put the c-curtain on! C-Cover me up! S-shut up and cover me up!" I screamed, the tears blurred my vision into a spot of colors. Emilia finally jumped forward, getting between the crowd and me, acting as a human shield. But she was too slow. The kids had already seen everything. They had seen the way my skin reacted to the cold, the exact way of my modesty and the frantic and clumsy way I tried to hide. "Hey, have some consideration!" Emilia shouted to the crowd. "Stop looking, give Komari some privacy!" Some of the boys nodded and turned around, but others lingered, casting furtive and persistent glances over their shoulders. I heard the quiet whispers, and the low laughter

I collapsed on the floor, pressed my knees to my chest and sobbed in my arms. The friction of my bare skin against the cold floor felt like a reminder of my exposure. I was no longer a student; I was a specimen. An exhibition. Some girls from the club ran forward, grabbing the fallen curtain and manually holding it while someone struggled for a piece of thread to fix the rail. One of them looked at me with a mixture of pity and disgust. "We are so sorry, Komari-chan. This was a horrible accident. I'm going to scold the guys for laughing at a teammate."

"I'm so sorry too, Komari!" Emilia added, her voice dripping with a mock sympathy that seemed acidic. "It must have been embarrassing to be naked in front of all those guys! Just imagining it... All seeing my private parts like that, with nothing covering me. I would die of shame if everyone saw me like that! You are so strong for not fainting!" I closed my eyes with my teeth grinding. Every word Emilia uttered was a nail in the coffin of my dignity. She wasn't comforting me; she was narrating my trauma, meticulously detailing the horror so that it would be permanently etched in my memory.

"And-already s-shut up... P-Please, just forget it."

"I'm serious, you're awesome! No one can handle that half of the course sees her naked and not wish that the earth swallowed them whole. It's a feat of mental toughness, especially for someone as shy as you!" The boys burst into a collective laugh. I could feel them leaning over, trying for one last glimpse of my shoulder or a sliver of my thigh before the curtain was finally secured. I felt dirty, not because of the floor, but because of the way their gazes had slid over me, valuing my non-existent curves and my trembling fragility. The curtain was finally fixed. The darkness returned, but the feeling of nakedness remained. I knew they were still there, just on the other side of the fabric, imagining the girl behind the veil. Emilia took a few steps back, her silhouette visible on the edge of the curtain.

"Well, the trauma is over. Now, hurry up and dress like a mummy. Your little episode has set us back quite a bit and the principal is touring the classrooms." i stood in silence, trembling, looking at my clothes scattered on the floor like discarded furs. Every instinct was telling me to take my things and run away from here, to run away from school and never come back. "Oh, and don't even think about backing out now or trying to get out of the club," Emilia's voice turned cold and the joy was replaced by a high-pitched touch. "If you decide to resign, maybe that curtain will break. And this time, I will invite all the third year boys to come and see how 'strong' you are in handling public nudity."

The threat hit me with the force of a physical blow. Emilia had found the right courage to press. The fear of a second, more deliberate exposure was a thousand times more potent than the first accidental one. I looked at the yellowed bandages on the table. The abrasive, rough fabric looked like a trap, a trap designed to hold me down. I had no other choice. I crawled towards the bandages, my movements mechanical and defeated. I felt the last remnants of my pride dissolving, leaving nothing but a hollow shell. "Y-Yes... I-I'll do it, I-I'll dress up as a mummy!"

"That's my girl! And relax, I was just kidding about the ones about breaking the curtain... Maybe. But seriously, hurry up, Komari!" Emilia's laughter echoed in the dressing room as she walked away, leaving me alone in the dark with my skin exposed and the resonant memory of a hundred eyes watching. I hated this festival. I hated this club. And I hated Emilia with every fiber of my being.

I stood there, petrified, as the echo of the laughter bounced off the walls of the dressing room like gunshots. The cold of the air conditioning bit my skin, but the humiliation kept me burning, an internal fire that climbed up the back of my neck and clouded my eyesight. My fingers were shaking so much that I could barely focus my gaze on the chipped wooden table. There, abandoned, lay some bandages. They were my only way out, the only possible shield between my fragmented dignity and the voracious gaze of the entire institute. If I didn't cover up, Emilia would make sure that every corner of the school knew exactly what every inch of my body looked like. I stood up with clumsy movements, feeling exposed even in the solitude of the room. Every brush of the draft against my thighs made me shudder. I took the first roll of gauze; the fabric was rough, yellowish and gave off a rancid smell of old dust and basement dampness.

"I-I-I just need... T-To cover me." I whispered, my voice breaking in a desperate plea "I-I'm not naked... I-I'm not naked..." I started to wrap my chest. I pulled the fabric with a brute force, pressing the gauze against my flat breasts until I felt that the air was lacking. I wanted to erase the image of those eyes devouring me, I wanted to annul my own physical existence. I passed the bandage over and over, securing the ends with hurried knots that left red marks on my pale skin. Then I went down to my pelvis. I wrapped my private parts with repetitive layers, feeling how the gauze adhered to the moisture of the sweat caused by nerves. The fabric was sticking to my lower lips, creating a rough and cold barrier. Two minutes later, the essentials were covered, although the gauze was so thin that it barely offered any real protection; it was more of a psychological lie than an article of clothing. I felt like I was wearing see-through underwear in the middle of school. I continued to climb up and down, wrapping my abdomen and thighs, trying to imitate the silhouette of a real mummy. I wanted to disappear under layers of white. However, when I tried to turn around my waist, the roll ended with a dry jerk. I pulled the end of the bandage and there was only an insignificant piece of fabric left that disintegrated between my fingers. I looked at myself in the small cracked mirror on the wall. The result was an absolute disaster. My shoulders were completely bare, exposed to the ice air. My back was an expanse of white, vulnerable skin, and at the waist, just where the bandages cut sharply, there was an alarming gap that revealed too much skin. My face, of course, was totally exposed, with red-hot burning cheeks and moist eyes. She didn't look like a mummy; she looked like someone who had survived a catastrophic accident with a roll of toilet paper. "C-can't be... a-a-Are they over?"bMy fingers felt the empty table, finding only dust. I took a deep breath, shrugging my shoulders and hunching my back to try to hide my chest with my own posture. I had no other choice. I left the dressing room walking glued to the wall, sliding my back against the cold concrete, praying that no one would notice the gap between the bandages.

When I reached the central area, I stopped in my tracks. My heart skipped a beat. I saw the other girls at the club. All of them were wrapped from the neck to the ankles, like real cocoons of neat white silk. Only their faces peeked out of the gaps, protected by dense layers of fabric. I, on the other hand, was an exhibitionist with pale skin and badly placed strips of fabric that threatened to undress me at any moment. Emilia approached me with a predatory smile, her eyes shining with genuine malice. He ran his gaze over me, deliberately stopping at the curve of my exposed waist, where the skin was slightly sagging. "Go-Go, Komari! I didn't know you were so... Daring. I love that attitude. It's so much more... Suggestive. I'm sure we'll attract a lot of customers with that."

I felt the heat rising up my neck like a flare, burning up to my ears. "W-w-Why y-Am I the only one dressed like that?!" I burst out, although my voice sounded more like a squeal than a protest "g-g-Give me more b-bandages! T-This is ridiculous! I-I don't want to s-be the center of n-anyone's a-attention! I-I want a n-normal suit!"

Emilia let out a nasal giggle and folded her arms, enjoying my desperation. "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, that's just the outfit of the girl you replaced. She was... Well, let's just say she was very outgoing. Too much, maybe. She herself asked for her costume to be more "airy" to attract customers. Since you are taking his place, it is logical that you also take his suit. Relax, little mouse. It's not a big deal. It's just a little bit of skin. Besides, it looks really good on you considering who you are... Well, you."

Anger, for the first time in my life, momentarily overcame my shame. I stiffened, clenching my fists. "I-i-if it's no big deal... P-Please c-change places with me! Y-You put on the revealing outfit and I'll put on the cocoon one!"

Emilia put on an expression of absolute horror. He brought a hand to his chest, feigning a heart-hold as he took a step back. "N-Not crazy! I have a reputation to maintain. Only a shameless pervert would be able to wear something so obscene at school. Do you really want people to think I'm that kind of girl, Komari?" i remained mute. The irony was suffocating, an invisible noose that tightened around my neck. He'd say it was embarrassing and still make me wear it, and then he'd call me a pervert just because I was wearing it.

"T-That's not fair, y-you are...!"

"Well, fewer complaints and more work. Take care of the customers. They're already lining up." I resigned myself. I walked towards my stall, feeling every draught hit my exposed skin like invisible whips. As I looked down the hall, panic knotted my stomach again. There were people. Too many people. Much more than a salon as mediocre as ours used to attract. Students crowded into the line, whispering and pointing inward with restrained laughter. "W-Why a-are there s-so many?" i asked in an almost inaudible whisper. Emilia approached my ear, her voice charged with a playful malice that made my spine tremble.

"Oh, yes. It's just that there's a rather strange rumor going around. They say that here is a very cute girl, red-haired, short and completely naked. Curiosity killed the cat and now everyone wants to see if the rumor is true. And apparently... It is." The world seemed to turn on my axis. I got so red that I felt like my skin was going to start emitting steam. I looked around desperately: I am the only red-haired girl in the entire classroom of more than twenty students and relatives. All those kids, all those people... They'll know it was me. And now they saw me in this outfit that barely covered the essentials, leaving my sides and my back at the mercy of any gaze.

I had to take care of the first couple. When the boy took a step forward, my heart jumped violently against my ribs. He was one of the guys who had seen me naked a few minutes ago in the dressing room. His eyes opened immeasurably when he saw me. He wasn't looking at my face; his eyes would quickly go down to my exposed waist and then up, nervously, running through the gauze tight over my chest. "You... Y-you're the one from before, the one in the locker room," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

"D-Don't m-mention anything!" I begged, shrinking into a ball "i-It wasn't me... P-P-Please forget about the l-locker room! Forget it!"

The boy scratched the back of his neck, avoiding my gaze but taking a furtive and prolonged look at the skin of my thighs, where the gauze looked dangerously thin. "Yes... well, I'll try to forget about it... it's going to be very difficult though. Really..." I felt like an animal in a zoo, a biological curiosity exposed for the entertainment of others. Just when I thought the situation couldn't get any worse, a little boy, who was frantically running around the living room with the energy of a whirlwind, crashed right into me. The glass of orange juice I was carrying in my hand flew through the air, describing a perfect parable, and all its juice landed directly on my body. I felt the sticky, icy liquid soak into the gauze instantly. The cold made me let out a choking gasp. "Oh, I am so sorry!" Exclaimed the child's mother, quickly approaching to clean the little one, without giving importance to my condition.

"I-It's all right... n-nothing's wrong..." my voice was shaking, almost disappearing. When the mother withdrew, I looked down and let out a groan of pure horror. The bandages, which were already of poor quality and poorly secured, had weakened with moisture. The weight of the juice and the tension of the wet fabric had caused the fabric to tear at several critical points. Now, the gauze had been reduced to simple somewhat transparent hanging shreds. The part that covered my abdomen had opened in half, exposing almost all of my flat belly and navel, descending dangerously towards the pubic area. On my thighs, the fabric had slid down by the gravity of the liquid, leaving my legs exposed much higher than any mini skirt would allow. The orange juice dyed the gauze a grotesque orange color, making it look like irritated skin or something much dirtier.

"No!.. I-it can't b-be! I-i-It keeps breaking!" I desperately covered myself with my hands, burying my fingers in the shreds of fabric to try to keep them in place. I was one abrupt movement away, one deep breath away, from being naked again. The cold air was hitting my intimate areas, which were now only separated from the world by a soaked and translucent strip of fabric. Fortunately, my shift was ending. Just a little more to go and I could run to the dressing room, put on my clothes and disappear from this damn club forever. I stood motionless, trembling, feeling the juice dripping down my legs.
But then, I saw Emilia approaching me. Her face did not have the usual mocking expression; she looked genuinely worried, or perhaps it was a feigned worry to increase my terror. He took me by the arm and led me towards a private corner, where the other girls from the club were, who also seemed agitated.

"Girls, I have some bad news" Emilia said, her voice echoing in the small space. "Someone came into our dressing room a few minutes ago. They took everything."

"W-What?"I managed to articulate, feeling the ground disappear under my feet. Chaos broke out among the other girls. They started cursing, screaming and panicking, but I was paralyzed, with my eyes wide open. The fear left me cold, a frost that ran from my toes to the root of my hair. Emilia looked at me, with a mixture of pity and cruel amusement "They stole everyone's uniforms. Including your Komari clothes"

I stood there, wrapped in shreds of orange gauze, feeling the last shred of hope evaporate. There were no clothes. There was no shelter. Just me, the sticky juice and some clear bandages on the verge of collapse.

Taphita_Neron wrote: Sun Aug 16, 2026 12:12 pm
"Komari! I finally found you!" The scream shook me. My book slipped from my numb fingers, hitting the floor with a thud. I turned my head with the slow, mechanical fear of a condemned prisoner. It was Emilia, the leader of the drama club. She stood there, radiating an intensity that seemed physically exhausting. Her smile was too wide, her long or dark hair was moving in the wind, and her blue eyes were walking with a brightness that verged on the manic. Her chest was huge and she had big curves, the opposite of my decrepit disgusting otaku appearance, a short and thin girl of about 152 cm. With a constant scared expression, short reddish hair and tousled with bangs. I was always someone extremely shy and antisocial, I have no friends and I spend my time reading novels in the library. Before I could calculate an escape route, Emilia's hand held my wrist tightly. His grip was surprising, a vice of warm skin and iron will.

"Stop making that face! You look like a scolded puppy!" Emilia didn't let go of me. Instead, he leaned in, his smell was something like strawberries and a hint of mischief overwhelming my senses.
"I need you. Do you remember that the teacher forced everyone to join the club activities? You volunteered as a backup if someone went missing, remember?" The memory came to light, a distant and blurred spot. I remembered the moment of weakness, a bet based on the assumption that the probability of a vacancy on the busiest day of the year was statistically zero. It turned out that fate possessed a sadistic sense of humor.

"B-But no... i-I don't think i-is necessary..."

"Too late! We have an emergency. One of our girls had a fever and the House of Horrors cast is incomplete. You're our new hero, Komari!" Emilia did not wait for a rebuttal. She turned around and started dragging me through the halls. My feet barely grazed the ground, my body swayed like a rag doll dragged like a child who did not want to go to the dentist. I remained in my perpetual state of collapse: shoulders curved inward, hair spilling out of my messy ponytail, and a look of pure, unadulterated terror etched on my features. People stopped to stare at me. I could feel his cold, curious, mocking eyes. I could almost hear his internal monologues: “Is he seventeen? Why does he dress like a tramp? Those books are for children. Look how she shudders” The heat rose to my neck, a scorching crimson tide that flooded my cheeks and burned my ears.

First you need to keep the gender of someone the same, you have Emilia as she then he then she then he then she, just saying you need to fix that, so it makes more since and reads easier.

it continues more in the story too, so yeah I would say go over the whole story and fix all of the errors of calling the people by the wrong gender.

Agreed. AI assisted stories are notorious for inconsistences like that along with overuse of descriptive adjectives (repeating the same descriptions over and over again.) Almost all of these are easy to catch and fix before publication IF the author will take the time to proof their work before they "post."

Since the author asked, I would also like to add that the constant studder on the part of the protagonist is difficult to read and annoying - especially when the studder makes the sentence confusing. If the student has a medical issue causing this, it would be helpful if the author would explain this early on. If she doesn't have a medical issue, I would respectfully suggest this constant studder be removed. I get that the author most likely wanted to convey a sense of nervousness but there are better ways to point this out other than typing confusing sentences all the time.

I like the basic story so far, however and hope the author continues.

Hooked6

..

Thanks for the comments, I know gender switching is confusing. I'm actually Spanish, but since the site only allows stories in Spanish, use AI to translate it to English and don't check it as it doesn't distinguish those flaws. The second thing is that yes, use AI to edit the story. More than anything the descriptions, I did it to try to expand the story but I think I exaggerated. I will try to solve those problems for the next chapter, thanks for your opinions. Using the translator again to post this comment, sorry

same as the others. i think this is a great story so far and the only thing I would correct is keeping your he/she, his/hers, him/her boys /girls genders consistent for each character. like this part "It wasn't just Emilia. Three girls and two girls from the club were frozen there. And behind them, a whole group of students who had entered the room to admire the scenery." I can't tell if its five girls or a mix of girls and boys. I know you said your English is not very good so I'm just trying to give feedback on what stood out the most to an English speaker. anyway other then that I love the story so far and can't wait for part 2

We continue with the story of Komari at the festival. I tried to fix some bugs, I hope you enjoy this part.

........

The silence that followed the news about Emilia was terrifying, broken only by the distant echo of a school band practicing in the courtyard. Chaos erupted instantly. The girls began cursing Emilia, screaming and banging on the walls in frustration. I, however, remained paralyzed with fear, feeling an electric current run down my spine, leaving me breathless.

—E-Emilia... this can't be true...— I stammered, feeling like the world was crumbling around me. —I was supposed to go model for art class right now.—

—Model, you?— Emilia raised an eyebrow, looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and sarcasm. One of the girls in art class had asked me the other day to help her out by being her model; I just had to sit and let everyone draw me, a simple job, but now I felt tears beginning to blur my vision at the thought of being drawn in my current outfit.

—I can't go to class like this! Dressed as a perverted mummy!— While screaming desperately, Emilia sighed and crossed her arms, although the gesture was comical given that she herself was covered by bandages that revealed her large attributes.

—Look, I'm affected too. My priorities are getting everyone's clothes back at the club, not your classes. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. My clothes were stolen too.—

—Yes! I'm sorry!— I shrugged, looking down at my feet. Emilia could be unpleasant, but at this moment she was just another victim of the absurd cruelty of this festival. The situation was so surreal that my brain didn't know who to blame.

—Don't worry about the class,— Emilia said, softening her tone, though her gaze remained sharp. —Anyway, you have your costume. Even if it's...revealing, it's much better than being naked, don't you think?—

I looked at my tattered gauze. The bandages were stiff, almost like dried cardboard from the juice. If I didn't move abruptly, maybe it would hold. Yeah, probably… I had no choice; my commitment to art class was one of the few things that made me feel useful. I walked toward the art room, and every step felt like a death gamble. The hallway was crowded. I felt their stares piercing me like needles. The gauze, weakened and partially transparent from the dried juice, left nothing to the imagination. Through the fabric, everyone could see I wasn't wearing underwear. My small nipples were hardening from the cold air conditioning. The lower part was even worse; the gauze was sticking to my labia, exposing my vulva.

—Look at that girl... Did her costume rip?— I heard a whisper to my right. —She's naked, look how everything's showing,— another replied, followed by disgusting laughter. Someone pulled out their phone. The camera flash blinded me for a second. My face burned, a deep red that reached my ears. I wanted to scream, I wanted to disappear, but I had to keep my composure; if I showed embarrassment, it would only damage my reputation. My legs continued to move mechanically toward the art room door.

When I arrived at the club, Anna, the only person I could call my friend, was waiting for me. Her expression changed in a millisecond. Her eyes widened and her face turned a deep crimson as she processed my outfit.

—Komari, are you crazy?! What are you doing dressed like that?!— she exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand, her cheeks red.

—I-It's a disguise, I...! Things happened, okay?— I explained, feeling myself shrinking in on myself, trying to cover my genitals with my hand; the gauze was doing a mediocre job of concealing me. Anna sighed, trying to regain her composure, though her eyes kept drifting down.

—Well, if you're comfortable with that, there's no problem. Just sit still in the center for about ten minutes while the others draw you, and then you can go to the bathroom to change. I'll go out and find some clothes for you to wear later in the restrooms.—

As Anna left, I sat down in the small wooden chair in the center of the room. The cold wood hit the skin of my thighs, sending a shiver through my body. In a few seconds, the room was filling with students carrying their folders. When they saw me, silence fell over the room. Some chuckled, but no one mocked me openly. In the art world, eccentricity is the norm; they probably assumed my appearance was some kind of conceptual proposal for the festival. I closed my eyes tightly. I tried to focus only on my breathing, ignoring their stares and trying to relax my muscles. Ten minutes. Just ten minutes of immobility, and I could flee to the restrooms, wrap myself in any rag, and pretend this day never happened. However, the silence of the room was broken by a terrifying sound, almost imperceptible, but devastating to me.

*Snap*.

I opened my eyes abruptly. Strips of gauze on my thighs had been cut and now hung loosely, revealing the pale, smooth skin of my legs. The dried fluid had made the fabric very brittle, and my position was putting unbearable strain on the bandages around my thighs.

*Snap*.

This time the sound came from my chest. My breath, ragged with panic, made my ribcage constantly expand and contract. The gauze, which had been holding my breasts flat, began to give way, and my breasts fell. I felt the fabric slowly slide down, inch by inch. Panic washed over me again, a wave of heat that left me breathless. I stiffened, holding my breath. I knew that any sudden movement would hasten the undressing process, but simply being so nervous and sweaty made the fabric tear more. The gauze no longer covered anything significant. Only a few strips remained across my vulva and nipples, but the rest of my torso, my waist and abdomen, my thighs—everything was completely exposed. I was almost naked, except for a few bandages that clung to my skin with sweat.

The boys who were drawing began to stop. Their pencils ceased moving across the paper. The sound of their pencils was replaced by the sound of my ragged breathing. I saw their gazes draw closer, focusing more on my anatomy than on drawing. They were noticing how the bandages were dissolving like wet paper. As if my outfit were turning to ashes.

—Is this part of the class?— a boy in the second row whispered, his voice husky. My dignity was disintegrating in real time. If I stood there naked now, I couldn't get up without them seeing absolutely everything, and the worst part was that there would be dozens of drawings of my naked body in the class notebooks.

Five minutes remained. The bandages on my legs had already fallen completely off, piled up on the floor like snakeskin. My pale skin contrasted sharply with my flushed face. The gauze strips across my vulva were held in place by threads that tightened with every heartbeat. On my chest, the gauze had slipped so far that only three layers remained, barely covering my nipples like stickers, leaving the upper and lower parts of my breasts exposed. The students were no longer pretending to draw. They had leaned forward, their eyes dilated, their pupils devouring every detail of my vulnerability. They were waiting for the exact moment the last thread would give way. I could feel the cold air of the room hitting my most intimate parts, the chill brushing against my clitoris and the lips of my vulva, which felt exposed and sensitive. I shrank back, trying to close my legs, but that movement only tightened the threads holding the last garment. I was in a state of utter vulnerability. I wished the clock would move forward, yet simultaneously prayed the fabric would hold for one more second. My breathing became erratic, small gasps and moans that made my chest vibrate dangerously.

Less than a minute remained. I could feel gravity pulling at my bandages. I was millimeters away from total nakedness. The boys no longer tried to hide their desire; some had even put down their notebooks to simply watch the agony of my shame. I saw some of them pull out their phones, recording the scene from various angles. Finally, the clock struck the end of the ten minutes. I let out a sigh of relief so loud it almost ripped the bandages. I had survived. Miraculously, the last thread hadn't broken.

—Thank you for your attention...— I murmured, looking down. What do you mean, thank you for your attention? Thank you for seeing me naked? That thought struck me like lightning, but I no longer had the strength to process it. I stood up as slowly as a tortoise, afraid that any sudden movement would finish the job. I retreated to the door, keeping my body rigid, my arms pressed against my sides, trying not to breathe too deeply. I was about to cross the threshold, freedom was within reach, when the door burst open with a loud bang.

—Komari! I've found the culprit behind the robberies and…!— Emilia burst in like a whirlwind, moving with a chaotic energy that clashed directly with my fragile state. The impact of the door made me jump in fright. It was a small jump, barely a few centimeters, but the accumulated tension reached its breaking point.

*Snap*.

The last link between my dignity and the world was severed with a sharp, final sound. The last of the bandages fell away completely, sliding down my legs and collapsing to the floor. In an instant. There were no more bandages, no more tricks, just me, small and naked, facing an entire class of wide-eyed students. I reacted purely on instinct. I managed to grab the bandages with my hands and tried to stick them to my skin in a desperate movement, but the fabric was already torn to shreds. There was nothing left to cover. My hands barely concealed the bare essentials, but the bandages tore further between my fingers, turning into confetti. I stood there, trembling, facing the class. It was no use trying to save myself; I was naked, holding scraps of cloth that no longer served any purpose. My breasts, though small, were completely exposed, my nipples hard with shock. My vulva, uncovered and open to everyone's gaze, my sensitive skin trembling under the strain. Everyone was filming me. I could see the phone screens lighting up the living room.

Emilia looked at me, confused at first, until her eyes dropped and she noticed I was naked, holding some rags against my skin. A mischievous smile, Emilia's classic smile, began to form on her lips.

—What happened? Why are you naked? Oh... Did you decide to model nude? How daring of you, Komari,— Emilia said with a tone dripping with irony. The feeling of humiliation reached its peak. It wasn't just the nudity; it was the way those boys stared at me, Emilia's suppressed laughter, and the feeling that my entire life had just turned into a living hell.

—D-DIE, DIE A THOUSAND TIMES!— I screamed with all my might, my voice cracking with despair. I ran naked from the classroom, my hands clutching my body, feeling the air pound against every inch of my skin as I sprinted down the hallways. As I fled, I heard the boys from art class kneeling before Emilia behind me, thanking her as if she'd performed a miracle. Emilia stood there in the middle of the room, staring at the boys with a look of utter bewilderment, probably wondering how she'd ended up being the “savior” of the art class perverts.

As I ran, the cold wind whipped against my buttocks and breasts, and the sound of my own bare footsteps on the polished floor echoed in my head. I knew that, from today on, I would no longer be the invisible girl in the library. Now I was no longer just the “perverted mummy” but “the naked girl of the festival.” This entire school festival had just turned into the worst day of my life.

After being seen naked in art class I started running as fast as possible to the bathroom. My bare feet were hitting the cold floor of the corridors in a frantic race. The cold wind from the hallways brushed every inch of my bare skin, a terrifying sensation that made me feel like I was being skinned alive. I didn't want to look back. The mere thought that someone might be watching the swaying of my breasts and hips made me nauseous. Every corner I walked was a suicidal gamble, every distant voice a possible witness to my humiliation. I felt small, as if the hallway had shrunk to highlight my nakedness.

When I finally got to the bathroom door I noticed a sign with a warning. But I didn't have time to read it, someone could see me at any moment, so I entered like a whirlwind, driven by the panic of being seen. I closed the bathroom door with a bang that made the walls vibrate, and the sound of the closed door was the only relief I experienced today. I collapsed on my knees. The floor was freezing, but I didn't feel it, my body was so warm that the cold no longer affected me. I buried my face in my hands and let out a scream that was born from the deepest part of my insides.

My scream tore through my throat, a high-pitched, broken, desperate sound that ricocheted between the ceramic walls, returning an echo of pure misery to me. I stood there, cowering, with my back pressed to the wall. My heart was no longer beating; it was hammering against my ribs like drums. I crawled to the mirror, resting my trembling palms on the glass. The reflection that returned my gaze was that of a disaster. My skin, usually pale, was tinged with a deep pink, a burn that extended from my neck to my ankles. My face was like a tomato about to burst. The spasms were running through my legs, making me shake uncontrollably. I looked at my chest, my nipples were hardened by the cold, and then I looked down at my pussy. The remnants of the bandages were stuck to me from the juice

—T-This is a nightmare...— My voice sounded so broken and weak that I could hardly recognize it. I could still feel art class's eyes, that malicious curiosity, the way her pupils dilated while waiting for my nudity, I was always someone who got nervous and trembled with any human interaction. And now, she was being subjected to constant humiliations by getting naked in front of a huge crowd. But I finally had peace, I was in the girls' bathroom, safe from the lustful stares.

With a growl of rage and disgust, I grabbed the gauze shreds stuck to my skin and pulled them hard, tearing the rough fabric off my skin. I felt the irritating rubbing, but I didn't mind. I threw the remains on the ground with contempt. I was left naked. Without a single thread of fabric, without a single barrier between me and the world. I felt a moist heat running down the back of my neck. My breathing was still erratic, short gasps that made my chest rise and fall quickly. I realized that, if I went out like this; even with clothes on but with my skin on, my eyes crying and moaning non-stop. Any observer would think that she had had an orgasm. The very thought of being seen that way again made me want to disappear into a black hole.

—S-Showers... I need to take a shower.— I walked towards the showers area with hesitant steps. I had always been terrified of using public bathrooms; the possibility of girls in my class seeing my body caused me paralyzing anxiety, a fear of being judged for my lack of attributes or my short stature. But now, after having been the main show of an entire class, that fear seemed insignificant. What did it matter if another girl saw my naked body if it was already public property?

I got under the hot water jet. The impact of the water drops was like a hug. The steam began to fill the room creating a thick white curtain that enveloped my body, hiding my imperfections and my shame. I closed my eyes, letting the soap wash away not only the sticky juice, but also the slimy feeling of those looks. There are no more clubs, there are no more tasks. I sighed, letting my shoulders fall. The hot water relaxed my tense muscles, I just want to go home, read my novel, and disappear into a world where no one looked at me. Imagining my room, the smell of paper in my books and the sacred silence of my room gave me a spark of hope back. Maybe tomorrow everyone will forget what happened today, yeah. I'm sure by tomorrow everyone will have forgotten. The sound of the front door opening put me on alert. I heard laughter, loud voices, and the echo of heavy footsteps entering the bathroom. I tensed up instinctively, but I remembered that the girls from the athletics club usually use these facilities after their workouts. I'm sure they wouldn't mind my being here.

—I-If we're all naked... It's okay— I continued bathing, letting myself be carried away by the warmth. Through the steam, I could see silhouettes moving around me. The atmosphere was filled with noise: lively conversations about race times and the sound of towels being unfolded. I felt strangely comfortable. The steamer was my new curtain, my new refuge. While I was bathing I noticed that they started to look at me out of the corner of their eye. I turned, not trying to cover myself, trusting that the opacity of the steam would hide the most intimate details of my body. I felt a twisted satisfaction. I had overcome my social anxiety and it no longer affected me so much to be naked with people of the same gender. I was walking around naked among other people and I didn't feel like the world was going to end. It was a pathetic victory, but it was a victory. I walked relaxed towards the locker area, with the water dripping down my hair and body and I reached the locker Anna mentioned and opened it with a fluid movement. It was Empty, I blinked, staring at the cold, metallic space.

—What? B-But Anna said she would bring me clothes.— I looked around. Not a single T-shirt, not a skirt, not even a pair of tights. Maybe Anna had just been delayed by the festival. Since I didn't have a towel to dry myself, I decided to sit on a wooden bench in the middle of the bathroom hallway. I sat with my legs open, letting the hot air dry my body, I was lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice the silence of the place. It was not a natural silence. It was dense, heavy, charged with an electricity that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The noise of the showers stopped. The conversations stopped. I felt watched, but not the way girls watch each other. I turned my head and there was a group of people stopped a few meters away, looking at me. No one was laughing. No one was talking. They were just observing every detail of my nudity.

—Is there something wrong with my face?— I cringed, feeling the security I had built crumbling. No one's answering. But then, I heard whisper they came from the shower area. But I couldn't make out what they were saying.

—Look at that... I can't believe I'm sitting like this, exposing everything without any shame. It's amazing. She's so relaxed. Why is there a girl here?— Whispered a voice charged with a mixture of amazement and lust, and another voice, more serious, answered. —It's Komari. The anti-social one at the drama club.— My heart stopped beating when I heard my name. Time froze. My eyes opened so wide I felt like they would pop out of their sockets. The world began to turn violently. I had a really bad feeling about it. The panic was coming back like a drowning tide.

—Hey, this is the boys' bathroom, right?— Muttered one of them, and another answered. It is usually the girls' bathroom, but the festival invested the bathrooms to optimize the space. This is the men's room now. We left a sign outside to avoid this misunderstanding. Didn't she read it?— Slowly, I turned my head to the right. A few meters away from me, another person was watching me with a smile, holding his phone at chest height. The flash went off with a "click" that echoed throughout the bathroom like a gunshot.

—What are you doing?!— I approached that person, I don't care that it's a girl. I don't want someone to have a naked picture of me. If more photos spread my life would be ruined. When I approached that person was startled and I could see him clearly. It was about a boy

—You fucking pervert! How does it occur to you to be here!?— I was furious, a guy spying on girls while they were bathing and taking pictures of them, it was unforgivable, however. No one joined me to scold him, I was surprised that everyone took it so calmly. —Won't they tell you anything? D-Do you mind having someone of the other gender in the bathroom?—

—No, in fact, he really enjoyed having someone of another gender with us— When I heard that voice it startled me, it was about Oliver, the captain of the football team. I was surprised to see him here and before I yelled at him I realized something was wrong, actually, everyone in this bathroom is boys. And even worse, I was the only girl inside. And then I understood, I was surrounded by guys and that wasn't the worst thing, I was naked in front of all of them, no curtains, no bandages and just got out of the shower with my body and hair wet. I was naked with no possibility of hiding. I wasn't in the girls' room. I was in the men's room. And I wasn't with the track team, I was with the football team, more than a dozen guys who were looking at me like I was a piece of meat on a counter.

—GET OUT! C-CLOSE YOUR EYES! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!— Scream, jumping off the bench in a desperate move. I tried to cover myself with my hands, but it was useless. She was in the center of the room, naked, without a single bandage, without a single garment. My hands barely covered my breasts and pussy, leaving my ass and thighs totally exposed for everyone to see. The hot air in the bathroom hit me reminding me of my absolute vulnerability.

—The toilets were reversed for the festival, we left a sign outside clarifying it. Didn't you see the sign? Or are you just an exhibitionist?— Oliver replied to me with sarcasm, but it was true. I remember that if I had seen the poster, I would have been too busy running naked and embarrassed through the corridors of the school to stop to read. Thus, my shame increased even more for making such a fatal mistake, I can't hide. Everyone sees me from all angles, my whole body turns red again, also notice how they were recording me all this time. I felt dirty. I felt that his looks were hands touching my skin, running along my ribs, my nipples, my pussy. The sound of the cameras capturing my nudity was a symphony of horror that made me want to rip my skin off.

—P-Please... give me some clothes, a towel, whatever!— I begged, shrinking into a ball, trying to disappear inside my own body. Oliver had an expression of pure malice that he enjoyed every second of my collapse. Me, the shyest girl in school, the one who can't even look people in the eye, was naked and moaning in front of dozens of guys. It's almost poetic. There was just me, my skin red from shame, and a dozen guys who were feeding off my agony. I stood up, shaking violently, and ran to the front door. Both hands covered my parts, my breasts and my pussy were almost exposed to anyone who was in front of me. I grabbed the door handle and pulled with all my might, waiting for the door to give way. But he didn't move an inch.

—O-Open the door! Let me out!— While screaming in horror, Oliver just walks towards the showers with a slow and deliberate step, enjoying the sound of the showers and my despair.

—O-Open the door right now!! ¡Please!! I'm naked God! Have mercy, please!— I was very agitated with a thousand heart, I'm naked, but no one listens to me, no one wants to let me out, and many don't even take a bath and just look at me with laughter. I want them to hurry up already, but everyone was watching me taking their time.

Fifteen minutes passed. Fifteen minutes of the purest and cruelest torture a girl like me can endure. I remained standing by the door, I stood at the door naked in front of more than a dozen third-year boys, pressing my arms against my body in a pathetic attempt to cover myself. But the boys wouldn't stop moving around me. Some walked past me just to give me a look, others sat on the benches watching me in silence, enjoying my heavy breathing and my stifled sobs. I felt like a real exhibitionist. Oh God. How many guys saw me naked today? Before it was for a few seconds, but now it's an eternity. I could feel their gazes burning my skin, etching every crease of my body, the curve of my thighs, the whiteness of my belly and the delicate groove of my pussy in their minds forever. As if my very presence there was a sin that they had the right to punish with their hungry looks.

—P-Please… Let me out now...— I whispered, my voice broken and my will broken. Oliver came closer. I had the door key in my hand, waving it in front of my eyes, as if it were a bait. He had a self-reliant smile that sent a wave of nausea through me. I tried to reach for the key but the instant I moved my hand, I realized something scary. To take the key, I had to use one of my hands.

The dilemma was a psychological torture. If I used my right hand, my breasts would be exposed, my little pink nipples offered to the cold air and in full view of everyone. If I used my left hand, my pussy would be exposed, revealing the deepest intimacy of my body to strangers.

Oliver knew exactly what was going through my head. He stood there, motionless, waiting for my decision. The other guys came closer, closing the circle, forming a semicircle around me. Their mobile phones flashed; the sound of the cameras activating was like a death sentence. They didn't want to miss a single detail of the outcome.

—G-Give me the key...— I muttered, closing my eyes tightly. Panic clouded my judgment. I decided that my breasts were less important; after all, they were flat and I didn't have much to hide. But my pussy... That was sacred. It's something I can't let them see. I exhaled a trembling sigh and stretched out my right hand, exposing my breasts to the icy air. My nipples bristled instantly. The coldness of the atmosphere and the pressure of the stares made my small bumps become prominent. Oliver let out a giggle and, with a sharp movement, raised his hand in the air, leaving the key out of my reach.

—I see, so you decided to protect your pussy, huh?— Oliver scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. —It makes sense. Your breasts are so small that it is not so important that we are so serious that we see them. You're basically flat— he was much taller than me. Even stretching, and leaning on the tips of my feet, I would not be able to reach the key. I felt very small, a doll playing a sadist's game.

—Please! Give it to me now!— I screamed desperately, with each jump, my breasts bounced rhythmically, exposing themselves even more. The movement made my skin tighten, revealing the fragility of my body.

—Try to take it with both hands. Only then will you be able to reach me.— He proposed it with a cruel laugh. The dilemma was now absolute. If I used both hands, I would be completely exposed, with nothing to cover me. But despair overcame my shame.

I jumped with both hands outstretched in the air. In that moment, I became an open book. My whole body was exposed: the subtle curve of my breasts, the snowy whiteness of my thighs and the most intimate area, my pussy, wet with fear and stress, open for everyone to see. Oliver took a step back, and threw the key to another of the boys and he started running laughing out loud while the others screamed with excitement and laughter at the chase.

—Almost! What a cute you are! Try it again!— I jumped again, and again the key changed owners, again and again. I felt like a child whose backpack is taken from him and his bullies play to get him to try to get it back, but this was much worse, they were doing that while I was fighting not to faint from embarrassment, I was jumping and spinning in the air, totally naked while the bathroom erupted in laughter and cheering screams. I felt humiliated, degraded, turned into a toy for the entertainment of a group of teenagers. In the end, I stopped trying to cover myself. The shame had already turned into a blind and pathetic rage, I no longer cared about anything. I started running all over the bathroom naked, chasing the key with my arms in the air, without any concern for who was watching me or what I was recording. I just wanted that piece of metal that would give me back my freedom.

—GIVE IT TO ME NOW! DIE, DIE A THOUSAND TIMES!— I was screaming as I stumbled on my own feet, running naked through the thundering laughter. After about 3 minutes of humiliating chase, I managed to pounce on Oliver in a clumsy move and snatch the key from him. I fell into a disastrous position. She was naked, squashed on top of Oliver. My breasts, although small, were pressed directly against her face, and her hands, which had instinctively looked for where to hold, closed over my hips. He did not waste the opportunity. As soon as I tried to get up, feeling the heat of his body against mine, Oliver slid one of his hands down. His fingers, rough and determined, gently caressed my pussy, which was already dilated and wet due to the intense adrenaline rush and involuntary arousal caused by stress.

I felt an immediate electric shock that went through my spine. My muscles tensed and I let out a loud moan, a sound I had never made in my life. I am not someone with sexual resistance; my body is sensitive, I am a virgin. The fact that his fingers touched my clitoris while I was in this state of absolute vulnerability was too much for me. The pleasure was a sudden and violent explosion. In a second, I felt the center of my femininity contract into involuntary spasms. My pussy let out a stream of clear and thick liquid on Oliver's hand, a sudden and uncontrolled orgasm that left me breathless.

—Wow, you seem to like that, Komari— He whispered against my skin. The sound of the liquid being displaced by his fingers was audible in the sudden silence that fell on the boys. Everyone was shocked to see the scene. And I just wanted to die. I had cum in front of all of them, turned into a pervert who enjoyed being humiliated. I couldn't even scream. My legs were shaking violently from orgasm, weakness flooding my knees. I pushed myself up with a great effort, turned the door key with trembling hands and shot out into the corridors like lightning.

I went out into the hallway crying my eyes out, feeling how that embarrassing and satisfying liquid kept dripping down my thighs, staining my skin as I ran. Behind me, the bathroom was filled with laughter that seemed to have no end, laughter that haunted me like ghosts. I kept running without looking back, with the wind hitting my bare skin and my heart breaking. I felt like thousands of eyes were watching me from the shadows. My breasts were swaying and my buttocks were shaking, totally exposed to the cold school air. I felt broken, empty, but as tears clouded my sight, a promise was born in the depths of my hatred. I swear, if I survive this day, I will burn down the whole school with Oliver and all those boys inside.

The metal of the door echoed behind me with a sharp thump. That noise marked the boundary between the private hell I had built in the bathroom and the public abyss that awaited me outside. For a moment, the silence of the corridor seemed to me like a refuge, an emptiness where I could catch my breath. But it was an illusion. As I turned the first corner, my heart stopped. Parents with professional cameras, children holding multicolored balloons and students laughing with an insouciance that I found insulting. The noise was a tide of voices and festive music that, noticing my presence, froze. The silence that followed hurt me more than any blow I have ever received in my life, I just kept running between people with tears in my eyes. It was a sucking vacuum. The air disappeared, letting every pupil, every lens and every gaze sink into my wet and naked skin.

—But what...?— A girl's whisper, high-pitched and loaded with disbelief, tore the air. —Look at that! She's running around naked!— Shouted a boy behind my back.

Their voices did not convey concern. They vibrated with an electric excitement, the voice that he has just found a forbidden treasure. Then, I heard the phones ringing. the hallway erupted in a flurry of flashes. The white lights were blinding my view, marking my shameful escape. Every flash felt like a brand on fire in my memory. I could feel their glances brushing against my ribs, the rhythmic and desperate swaying of my breasts and the obscene vulnerability of my crotch, which was still wet and exposed to the cold wind. —What a scoundrel! A girl her age running around naked in front of so many people!— Exclaimed an old woman. His voice dripped with such pure disgust that I felt like a human waste. I cringed, pressing an arm to my chest in a futile attempt to cover myself. The gesture only managed to highlight the curve of my hips and the extreme pallor of my skin against the gray floor. There were no fabrics. There were no bandages. There was nothing to mediate between my intimacy and the whole world. I covered my face with both hands, shrinking, trying to shrink so much that I could disappear into the folds of space. Pathetic. A crimson-colored patch of skin moving frantically through the crowd.

I was no longer an isolated accident. She was Komari, the girl who can't look anyone in the eye without trembling, the antisocial one who takes refuge in light novels so as not to feel loneliness, now that girl had become the main attraction of the festival, an excited exhibitionist with dripping pussy in front of dozens of people. I felt that my skin was emitting its own light, a red so intense that it could probably be seen from space. Humiliation was a physical pressure on my chest, a weight that prevented me from breathing, that made me feel that my lungs were filling with lead. I swerved sharply to the right, dodging a group of parents who turned away with gestures of disgust, as if my nakedness were a disease. I found a dark space under the stairs on the third floor and hid there by pressing my back against the cold wall. He was panting now. My lungs were burning and my heart was hammering against my ribs with such violence that I was afraid they would break my sternum. I made myself into a ball, hugging my knees against my chest, trying to take up as little space as possible in the universe.

—T-This can't be happening to me, this can't be real, it must be a nightmare…— My words were groans, broken pleas addressed to a god who had abandoned me. I looked at my legs, red and trembling, stained with that shameful liquid from my pussy. The whole school has already seen me naked, everyone already knows that I have no clothes. The fear was no longer just at sight; it was the fear of digital immortality. Each flash meant a file, a video, an image that would travel until it reached the cellphones and computers of thousands of strangers. The idea that my body is now exposed forever on the internet, that the image of my crimson face and my naked body was now in the pockets of fifty, thousand, ten thousand. All boys my age all over the world, my parents watching as their shy book-loving daughter with good grades was now a perverted exhibitionist. I closed my eyes tightly, trying not to imagine my horrible future. And imagining that the ground opened up and swallowed me towards the center of the earth, that when I die I will wake up from this nightmare. But nothing was happening. I stayed hidden, listening to the distant footsteps, the echo of the laughter that mentioned my name. Every distant laugh was another nail in my social coffin.

Then, I felt something more terrifying. Despite the terror, my body responded with an obscene excitement. I felt a sexual pleasure from being naked, my own body had betrayed me to humiliate me even more, I could see and feel it. My pussy is getting wetter and wetter due to so much adrenaline and mental stimuli caused by my humiliations. I felt a constant pulsation in my intimate area, a violent need to masturbate to release this tension as if it were about holding the urge to urinate. But I can't do it for the world. If someone caught me masturbating, I wouldn't have a way to defend myself anymore. It would be confirmation that I was enjoying my own misery.

I waited. Time became elastic, every second an eternity of agony. When the flow of people seemed to slow down, I peeked out cautiously. A group of boys were walking by, laughing while looking at a phone screen. I saw a red flash on the screen. It was me, the photos and videos that had been taken of me were already spreading on the Internet and the whole school was looking for me. I came out of hiding with a suicidal impulse, driven by pure panic. I ran towards the exit, but luck had abandoned me a long time ago.

—There he is, our Crimson star!— Someone shouted. New cameras were raised like weapons. A group of students stopped in their tracks, forming a corridor recording my parade of shame. I no longer fought against the current. The panic had transformed only into the desire to escape, a mental short circuit where the pain was so great that I could no longer process it. To be seen, to be filmed, to upload my nudity to every corner of the internet. I just wanted the world to cease to exist, or for me to cease to be a part of it.

—L-Let me through...— I whispered, but my voice was lost in the taunts. I went down to the second floor. The aroma of food flooded the air, a festive smell that contrasted cruelly with the tragedy I was living through. As we entered the area of food stalls, silence fell again, spreading like a fire. Hundreds of eyes dug into my skin. I saw an older man lower his glasses to get a better look at me; I saw a little girl pointing at me curiously while her mother pushed her away with a gesture of horror. On the last step, disaster struck.

My foot, numb from the cold and the tension, bent. The impact was dry and brutal. I rolled down the steps banging my leg against the concrete edge. A sharp, stabbing pain radiated from my ankle that took my breath away. I was lying on the floor, exposed, with my legs spread and my butt up.

—Wow, it looks like the exhibitionist is in trouble.— Those boys were making fun by leaning over me. I saw their faces, the predatory smile, and then I saw the lens of their camera coming up to my crotch to take a direct picture of my pussy, I noticed them opening their eyes like plates, they had just seen my wet vagina and dripping with excitement. —Just look how wet she is, she really looks like a bitch in heat.— I let out a sob that tore my throat out. I stood up with difficulty, leaning against the wall, the pain in my leg was insignificant compared to the pain in my soul. I couldn't run anymore. I could only walk, dragging my leg while a crowd of people chased me, filming every step, every tremor of my thighs, every drop coming out of my pussy.

After several minutes I arrived at a deserted area near the back corridors. There was a long mirror on the wall. I stopped, compelled by a masochistic curiosity. The reflection brought back to me the image of a naked girl, with disheveled hair, skin inflamed by a shame that seemed to burn the surface, eyes swollen, red, overflowing with tears. She was naked and her vagina was getting wetter and wetter. He really wanted to touch me to stop that leak. But I can't do it. Behind me, in the reflection, I saw a group of students peeking around the corner, waiting for me to move to restart the hunt. It's not a dream... I'm really naked at school, with a wet vagina and being chased by boys.

I walked covering my parts with my hands, a pathetic and transparent barrier against everyone's gaze I passed in front of the horror club lounge. I saw the door and remembered where it all started. I remembered Emilia and her satisfied smile when she left me naked in front of everyone. I felt a murderous impulse, a primal desire to go in there and unload all my misery on her, to scream at her that she had destroyed my life. But fear was an anchor that kept me glued to the ground. I kept moving forward, feeling my dignity disintegrate with each step, like a sandcastle. Finally, I caught a glimpse of the exit door. The sunlight filtered through the crystals. A light of hope. But then, I saw her. A white pickup truck and a man in a suit, a microphone, and a professional camera. The logo of the local news channel shimmered in the sun, promising an audience of thousands.

—N-No... please, not that...— I backed up. Crossing the festival full of hundreds of people was one thing, maybe most people can't see me because of so much public. But if I walked through that door, and the news was recording me. My nudity would reach the screens all over the city and far beyond. It wouldn't just be the school and a huge group of people; it would be my family, my neighbors, the whole world. It would be the final seal on my destiny. In an act of blind desperation, I turned on my heels and sought any shelter. I saw a living room with the lights out and I rushed inside, closing the door behind me with a desperate knock.

The silence enveloped me. The air was heavy with dust and old wood. There were rows of chairs that I ignored, walking towards the center of the room where a single candle illuminated the living room. The instant I touched the candle wax, the ceiling lights exploded in a blinding flash, a stark white light that eliminated any trace of shadow.

—AND HERE WE HAVE OUR SPECIAL GUEST...!— A presenter's voice roared through a microphone that then stopped, amplified by speakers that made the ground vibrate under my feet. It took a while for my eyes to adjust, but when they did, my horror reached a new level. I was not in any living room. I was on a theater stage, under a lighting that did not leave a single corner of my body in the dark. Parents, students and, worst of all, dozens of small children with their faces full of amazement. The silence that followed was the purest torture I have ever experienced. It was a silence full of judgment. The children looked on with confusion, the parents with deep disgust, and the adults with a mixture of shock and a lust that I could smell in the air. I felt like an animal in a zoo, a grotesque curiosity put on display for the entertainment of others.

—But what is a naked girl doing in a children's play?!— Shouted a man from the front row, his voice heavy with indignation. A stout man, dressed in a police uniform, burst in from the sides of the stage. His face was a mask of anger and contempt. He held my arm with brutal force, his fingers sinking into my pale skin, forcing me to stand up. The pull was so abrupt that my hands separated from my body, leaving me totally exposed, without a single centimeter of protection, before the gaze of dozens of people. They could all see me, me and my wet vagina.

—Ma, why is that girl leaking?— I heard a child ask innocently, the mother just covered his eyes, but the rest could not ignore that comment. All his eyes were directed to my crotch. And they noticed my excitement. When I felt their stares, I just got more disgustingly wet.

—Please! I'm sorry, let go of me officer, help me!—

I sobbed, shaking violently, feeling that my legs were about to give way. The crowd started booing me. The screams filled the theater, creating a wall of sound that crushed me. I felt smaller than ever, not only naked, but despised, a social outcast. The officer did not listen to my pleas. With a quick and expert movement, he turned my body, pushing me forward and taking my arms with an abruptness that made me let out a groan. * Click. Clack.* The sound of metal closing on my wrists echoed throughout the stage, a final and definitive sound. They had handcuffed me with my hands behind my back.

—No! Please! At least put the cuffs on me from the front! Let me cover myself!— I screamed, trying to fight against the steel that kept my arms imprisoned behind my back. Now it was the absolute vulnerability. I could no longer use my hands to cover my breasts. I couldn't cover my pussy anymore, everyone could see my pussy getting the whole stage wet like a damaged faucet. I was open and exposed, chained up, while the officer grabbed my shoulder to drag me towards the exit.

—Wait! You're not going to take me out like that, are you?! It's-I'm naked, everyone's going to see me!— I begged, looking at the open door that led back to the festival. The officer ignored me. He pushed me out of the theater, returning me to the festival hall. This time there was nowhere to hide, there were no dark corners. My hands, trapped behind, prevented me from making any gesture of modesty. My chest and intimate area were at the mercy of anyone who passed by. I heard a new horde of students rushing in to record the moment, their phones outstretched like hungry fingers. Panic surged up my throat again, choking me. I looked towards the exit and saw the news van waiting for me, the camera zooming in and turning towards us. The thought of coming out like this, handcuffed and naked, in front of the national cameras, made me panic. I felt that my mind was fragmenting, that I was dying at that precise moment. In a fit of desperation, I bit the officer's arm with all my might and took advantage of his surprise to break free. I ran towards the stairs, climbing the steps with painful awkwardness, while the echo of my sobs and the clinking of handcuffs filled the hallway. The officer pulled out his radio, his voice booming with authority and fury.

—Attention all units! We have an exhibitionist, short teenage girl, red hair, naked and handcuffed. He has fled to the third floor. Intercept and arrest her immediately. We don't want any more scandals.— I went up to the third floor, but there was no shelter anymore. The crowd closed in on me like a human press. I tried to cover myself, but my wrists bumped into the cold metal of the handcuffs, reminding me of my helplessness. I couldn't cover anything up anymore, I couldn't even masturbate even if I wanted to. I couldn't run fast because of my injured leg. I could only walk, crying, as the phones came inches from my skin, capturing every detail of my misery.

—P-Please look away! Please!— I begged strangers who were just feeling malicious curiosity. No one looked away. The whole world had become a camera lens, and I was the only image on the screen. I let out a heartbreaking scream, which only served to provoke more laughter and more flashes. I walked aimlessly, a little girl naked and chained, lost in the labyrinth of a festival that has become a public execution of my dignity. Every step was an agony, as I moved through the corridors, I knew that even if I managed to escape from this building, I would never escape from this day.