Rosie's Magical Command: First Day Naked: (A Tale of Reluctant Exhibitionism)

by Dory Rettissi

  She stood there, back towards them. She knew they could see her ass, but it was better than turning around. Her hands instinctively moved to cover her breasts and her pussy, but then she remembered: she was not to cover. One of the rules. She lowered her hands. Surely that didn't count as breaking the rules, she thought: no one had seen her cover herself. She stood there, naked, the eyes of three men (one practically a stranger), to say nothing of her roommate, fixed on her ass.

  She flushed, and wondered, for the first time, if a flush was visible anywhere other than the face.

  At that point she started, her breasts jiggling slightly as she jumped. God she wasn't used to not wearing a bra! She turned and Jill was there, looking half worried and half mortified.

  "Rosie?" Jill asked. "Are you feeling ok?"

  Rosie nodded, but found herself unable to speak.

  "Does — does something hurt? Let me get you a towel."

  "No!" said Rosie a bit too loudly, and Jill jumped. She wanted a towel more than anything — except for clothes, of course: she wanted to bury herself in layers upon layers of clothing until she couldn't move. But she knew that if she covered up, it would all be over. She turned to talk to Jill, who had come up to stand beside her, but as she did she realized, too late, that doing so gave the three boys a better view than they had had — now she was standing sideways to them. She glanced quickly over: all three were watching her, mouths gaping. Rosie clasped her hands behind her back to keep from covering her breasts.

  "I — I think I'll go to bed. Good night everyone." She hurried past them and closed to the door to their room. She wondered briefly about sheets and blankets, but decided they didn't count as clothes, so she crawled under them, and lay there.

  From the other room Rosie heard voices. "Dude, does she, like, strip naked in the living room all the time?" asked Tyler, awed.

  "No," said Jill. "I don't know what that was about. I wonder if she's sick."

  "Well," said Mike, and Rosie thought she could hear his grin, "I hope she stays sick for a while.. I didn't see as much as I'd like to, but what I saw was fine."

  Rosie flushed with shame, and indeed felt as if she were blushing all over her naked body.

  Chapter Three: Rosie's Naked Debut

  In the morning Rosie woke up early. For a moment she didn't remember what was wrong, and then, wiggling slightly, felt her nakedness: usually she slept in a nightgown and panties. (Or, she thought ruefully, she used to.) Oh God, she thought. It's real.

  She looked over: Jill was, thankfully, fast asleep. Rosie lay there and thought about what to do.

  She would need a cover story, of course. Something to tell people when they asked her what was going on. The silent squirming from last night wouldn't do, not now. Jill was about to wake up; when she did, she would have questions. Then Rosie would go to breakfast, and other students would have questions. And the serving staff. Then she would have to go to class, and her classmates and professors would have questions. And probably, she thought ruefully, the dean and administrators too, since they would surely want to know what was going on.

  What if she were expelled? No, she couldn't be: not if the magic was real. Ms. Brock had pointed out that whatever happened this year wouldn't affect them negatively.

  If she followed the rules. If the others did, too.

  She texted briefly with her friends. All were in shock. All had instructions that were in one way or another hard. Rosie thought a few were easier than hers, and she felt a fierce wave of jealousy: why couldn't she have gotten one of the easier ones? She didn't mention it to the others, though. And upon reflection, a number of the tasks were harder than hers, too. At least she'd come out somewhere in the middle.

  The six friends reconfirmed their commitment, each reminding the others that a single slip could make everything they'd do, everything they'd already done, all be for nothing. Reassured that at least the others would do her part, Rosie signed off, and went back to thinking how on Earth she was going to explain this.

  When Jill walked into the common room, Rosie was sitting on the couch, reading a textbook. The textbook was on her lap (thinking it through, Rosie decided she often read that way, so it couldn't count as impermissible covering), but she was quite obviously otherwise naked as a jaybird.

  Jill gawked at her, a confused look on her face, as if she couldn't decide whether to be amused, worried or angry. "Rosie —" she asked. "What are you doing? What got into you last night? Where are your clothes? Why are you naked?"

  By this time Rosie had thought of her reply, and gave it with as much cheerfulness and conviction as she could muster. After all, she thought, she was going to have to explain this a lot.

  "I had an epiphany last night," she said.

  "A what?" asked Jill.

  "An epiphany. A realization. Like, enlightenment."

  "And enlightened people don't wear clothes?" asked Jill.

  "No, I mean, my realization was about clothes," said Rosie.

  Jill looked at her blankly.

  "I think I'm against them," said Rosie. As she said it, the words sounded ridiculous coming out of her mouth. Against clothes? What sort of nonsense was that? But then, what else was she to say? Nothing but the truth made any sense — and she was forbidden from telling the truth.

  "Against clothes?" said Jill incredulously.

  "Right," said Rosie. "I mean, they're all fake, right? Pretense. Hiding what's natural. What's true. What's real. It prevents people from seeing each other's true selves."

  Jill sat down. "What, so you're not going to wear clothes any more?"

  "Right." said Rosie. "Well, except for shoes. It'd hurt my feet to walk around barefoot. I'm not crazy you know." She smiled at Jill, who was looking like she thought Rosie might be crazy after all.

  "This is the silliest thing I've ever heard," she said at last.

  "That's fine," said Rosie. "You don't need to agree with me. These are my beliefs, and I'll live them out.

  Jill shook her head. "Assuming this isn't some sort of prank, this is nuts. You won't last a day."

  Rosie smiled. "We'll see," she said, as brightly as she could. Inside she couldn't help wondering if Jill was right.

  Jill shook her head, and finally said, "Well, shall we go down to breakfast? I don't know about you, but I'm starving." She stood up, went to the door and opened it. Rosie, feeling a tightening in her throat, put down her book, and stood up, realizing that the moment had come. She had to go out into public.

  Naked.

  "Actually, I need to use the bathroom," she fibbed — she wasn't ready to go with someone, not yet. "I'll meet you down there." With one last baffled look, Jill left.

  She closed her eyes. Maybe she could take the year off, hide in an apartment, finish college next year? No, the instructions said she had to stay naked through graduation.

  There was no way out. She felt barely able to breathe; her skin was covered with goosebumps — cold or nerves, she thought. She couldn't possibly be excited. She opened the door, and stepped out into the hallway.

  Thank God no one was in the hall. She hurried down it, feeling her breasts jiggle. Damn it, she couldn't run without a bra. She'd have to move more slowly. She started walking down the stairs. She saw someone coming up towards her — one of the girls in her dorm. Thankfully a girl — no different than the showers at the gym, right? But she knew that she'd meet guys soon enough.

  The girl did a double-take, and her eyes went big as saucers, but she didn't say anything. But as Rosie passed her she stopped and watched Rosie continue down the stairs.

  At the bottom of the stairwell, just before heading out into the main foyer, Rosie bit her lip and closed her eyes. Why had she agreed to this? What madness, to accept conditions without even knowing what they were! Nothing could be worth this. She could just go upstairs, get dressed, and forget all this like a bad dream... But her friends were already doing things too. She couldn't back out now.

  She stepped into the foyer.
There were a dozen or so students passing through or milling around. For a few seconds no one noticed her, but then a loud voice said, "Uh, why is she naked?" And everyone turned to see.

  Rosie's cheeks burned as she felt all eyes on her. She smiled — to keep up her cover story, she had to smile. But she was as mortified as she'd ever been in her life. She thought she heard a male voice say under his breath, "Damn." It was as if every gaze was physical, and she could feel them all over her, like breezes.

  Then she reached the door, pushed it open, and went outside.

  But the outside was no refuge: it was like the foyer times ten. People stopped and stared. She heard a wolf-whistle. People pulled out their phones to snap her picture. Oh God, she thought. Pictures. I hadn't even thought that there would be pictures. They'll probably be all over the net by tonight.

  One guy approached her, slightly shyly. He was making an effort to keep his eyes on her face, which Rosie appreciated, but she saw that he couldn't help glancing down at her breasts a few times. "Uh... will you take a picture with me?" he asked.

  Rosie flushed. But of course 'pose for anyone who asks' was one of the instructions too. She wondered if she could ask him to keep it private? But all she said was, "Sure, I'd be happy to." So the guy handed his phone to his friend, and Rosie and he put their arms over each others shoulders, and the guy snapped a picture. He took a few; Rosie thought (though she wasn't sure) that he might be zooming in. Bastard.

  And this opened the floodgates. Person after person — mostly guys, but some girls too — came up, and Rosie found herself standing and smiling alongside more than a dozen people. And more and more people gathered to take her picture as she posed, with this one, with that one, with groups of two and three and five.

  As she smiled at the guys who put their arms over her shoulders (she was relieved that none of them tried to grab her), and that the other guys who were snapping her picture, she wondered how many of them would be jacking off while looking at blown-up pictures of her tits. Not just her tits — some people were taking pictures from behind, too.

  One of the guys asked, shyly, why she was doing this. She gave them all (speaking a little loudly so she wouldn't have to go through it more than once) her spiel about not believing in clothes. It sounded idiotic to her, and the girls there just rolled their eyes, but the guys grinned. Anything to see her naked.

  Finally, at a pause, Rosie said, "Listen everyone, I'm famished! I've got to get to breakfast. If anyone didn't get a picture, I can pose for you later." There were some cheers and chuckles over that. But two of the guys — the first one who had asked, who introduced himself as Kevin, and Kevin's friend Gil — began walking with her. Rosie wasn't sure if they just wanted to get more time to examine her, but she was glad they were there, because when one or two people came up to try to talk to her or ask for a picture, they interrupted and said, "Hold on, let her get some breakfast," and so she didn't have to stop and pose, never being properly asked.

  Chapter Four: The Dean's Reaction

  Finally they got to the dining all. As she walked, a wave of whispers and giggles and sniggers followed her. As she went through the line, the checkout lady said wryly, "Forget something this morning dear?" Rosie just smiled at her. But the cashier, an older guy, grinned salaciously. Rosie shuddered: it was one thing to have attractive young guys leer at her, but this old man was something else.

  "Do ten jumping jacks for me," he said, "And your breakfast is on the house."

  Rosie thought about telling him she could pay for her own darn breakfast, but she wondered if that would violate the "show yourself" rule. So she did her best to smile, put her breakfast on the counter, and jumped. Her boobs bounced everywhere; she thought she saw one or two people with their phones out. God, were they videotaping?! Please no. The cashier just leered at her. "Thank you my dear. Those were a sight for sore eyes," he said, waving her through. As she walked off (hearing phones snap pictures of her retreating ass) she heard the cashier offer another free breakfast to anyone who could send him video.

  Finally Rosie managed to get to the dining room. Jill, finished by now but clearly waiting for her, waved at her. She was siting next to John, Mike and Tyler. Rosie groaned inwardly: strangers were somehow easier than people she knew. But this was her life now. So she smiled and went and sat down.

  At least sitting afforded her a little modesty, although of course her breasts were still well displayed.

  "Um, hi," said Mike, making an effort to keep his eyes on her face.

  "Hi!" said Rosie, with as much cheer as she could muster.

  "So... what's up?" asked John. John's eyes strayed down to her chest, and stayed there a moment; Jill elbowed him hard in the ribs.

  "Hey!" protested John.

  "Don't stare," said Jill. "Anyway, you're in a relationship, remember?"

  "It's hard not to notice," said John. "I mean, she's sitting there, naked and everything.

  "Yeah," said Mike. "And why are you naked, precisely?"

  Rosie sighed, and repeated the line she had used with Jill and during her little impromptu photo session. "Clothes are all about pretense. Hiding what's natural. What's real."

  "Wait, so those things are real," said Mike.

  Rosie flushed more deeply than she knew she could, and her arms twitched with the desire to cover her chest. She put her hands under her thighs, to keep herself from doing it. Jill glared at Mike, but afterwards Rosie thought she saw Jill surreptitiously checking her out too, as if Jill were wondering if they really were.

  "So how does it feel," asked Tyler, "to be stark naked in public."

  Rosie gave a forced laugh. "A little embarrassing, to be honest," she said.

  "I thought not being embarrassed was the point," said Jill, a little suspiciously Rosie thought.

  "No," said Rosie, "It's honesty. Openness. Genuineness. If I'm embarrassed, then that's my honest, natural reaction."

  "I'd say it's a natural reaction," said Jill.

  Just then a student came up to them. "Uh, miss?" he said to Rosie.

  Rosie sighed. What was it now? "Yes?" she said.

  "The, uh, the dean just sent me down here. He wants to see you in his office. Right after breakfast, please."

  Rosie's eyes narrowed. But the student didn't notice, as he wasn't looking at her eyes just then. "Um, do you know my name?" she asked.

  He pulled his eyes up to hers, grinning sheepishly. "Uh, no, sorry," he said, and stuck out his hand. "I'm Jimmy."

  She shook his hand. "But Jimmy," she said, "If you don't know my name, how do you know it's me the dean wants to see?"

  Jimmy flushed. "Well, he heard there was a student walking around campus naked, and he said she needed to go see him. I don't suppose there are two of you around?"

  "We should be so lucky," said Mike with a grin.

  After she finished eating, Rosie walked across campus to the dean's office. It was like a repeat of her walk to breakfast, except that now word had gotten out, and crowds were gathering, hoping for a glimpse or a photo of the naked woman. No one asked her to pose thankfully — she couldn't delay getting to the dean's office, but she couldn't have said no, either. But there were catcalls and whistles and not a few people muttering "slut" under their breath. One person shouted out, "Hey, Douglas, looking good!" and Rosie flushed, wondering who it was. Another person shouted out, "Those are nice." Rosie simply said "thank you!" and walked on. As she passed, she heard him say, "look at that ass."

  In the dean's office she was ushered in by a secretary, who gave her a glare as if she disapproved but didn't say anything.

  The dean was sitting at his desk, but looked up as she walked in. "Ah, hello," he said, "Miss..."

  "Douglas," Rosie replied. "Rosie Douglas. A senior."

  The dean pulled her file up on his computer, and glanced over it. Then he turned to her and asked, "So... what is this about?"

  Rosie, with an inward sigh, launched into her spiel about the value of nudity and truth. The
dean didn't say much, but just nodded along.

  "Well, Ms. Douglas, this is quite unusual," he said when she had finished. "Would you describe this belief of yours as a... religious belief?"

  Rosie shrugged. "I guess. Yes, I think it is."

  "Well then," said the Dean. "Our college, as you know, has a policy of supporting all students' religious beliefs. So we will support you in your, ah, decision. And the campus is technically private property, so public indecency laws don't apply. I can't speak for off-campus, of course, but that's really your own affair."

  The dean stood up. "I will draft an email to the entire campus community, telling them of our support for your religious beliefs and asking them to treat you with respect. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

  "No," said Rosie, standing up herself. "You've done more than I could have asked for. Thank you." She held out her hand to shake his. She turned to go. Reaching the door, however, she realized she'd forgotten her bag, and turned to pick it up. She spun around.

  The dean was staring: quite clearly staring where her ass had, seconds ago, been. He looked up, met her eyes, and turned beet read. Then she noticed: he had a sizable bulge in his trousers. He saw her glance down and see it. He blushed even further, and sat hastily down, presumably to hide his erection.

  "Uh, Miss Douglas, uh..." he stammered.

  Feeling something unexpected come over her, Rosie purred, "Thanks again for your help, Dean. I just need to get my bag." And then, turning her back on him, she bent at the waist while keeping her legs straight — a pose she knew would expose her to him fully as she bent over. She grabbed the bag and stood up. She glanced back; he looked hastily away, although she knew he had, until then, been staring. She smiled sweetly and gave a little wave. "Have a fun... day", she said. And whisked out the door.