The
Psychology Of Stripping
By Chris
Warner
This story is
written by Chris Warner, and all copyright and other rights of authorship are
retained. It is for ADULTS ONLY and contains sexual material. If you are under
18 years old and/or are offended by sexual material, please stop viewing this
page NOW. Readers are permitted to keep a copy for their own personal
reference, but this story must not be reposted or in any other way distributed,
in any form, without the express permission of the author via the e-mail
address given. I am likely to be happy for it to be posted to other sites, but
I intend to retain control over the contents of the story and ensure that
certain other conditions will be met.
*******
You might be
quite surprised to discover what goes on in the Psychology Department at your
local university.� I certainly was during
my undergraduate degree.� I had always wanted
to be in a job helping people, and the ideal for me was to become a therapist,
sitting in a comfortable chair talking with people.� It always seemed the perfect job.� So when I started university, I kind of
thought it would all be classes on learning how to analyse people�s thoughts
and make astute and insightful comments.�
It hadn�t occurred to me that I would have to learn about all the other
things that psychologists do, especially the research side of things, and never
in a million years would I have predicted it would lead to some very
embarrassing situations.
�
Psychology is an
academic discipline, and as such it has a very scientific side to it.� Psychologists are involved in a huge variety
of research projects about every aspect of behaviours, thoughts, and
perceptions.� One of the main things that
many of the students struggled with was all the scientific methodology and lab
reports and stuff like that.� That had
never been one of my strengths in high school, and plenty of my classmates were
the same.� The worst of it was the
statistics.� One compulsory paper in
particular involved trying to learn extremely complex statistical analysis, and
there were plenty of us who appeared certain to fail it.
�
As
undergraduates, you are often hearing bits and pieces about some of the
research being done in the department by staff or graduate students.� One rumour in particular was flying around,
and I was finding it increasingly difficult to ignore.� The rumour was that one of the PhD students,
Jack, was prepared to provide tutoring in statistics (or as some rumours went,
was practically doing stats projects for students) in exchange for being a
participant in his research.
�
The rumours about
Jack�s actual research were very vague, but most hinted at something of a
sexual nature.� His research had
apparently required ethics approval from the very highest level, and had very
high levels of confidentiality built into it.�
It was hard not to be a little bit sceptical.� Recruiting participants by offering to do
their course work is pretty ethically dodgy.�
Still, it wasn�t like I was likely to complain.� My whole career seemed to depend on getting
help with my stats project.� My only
question was what would I have to do in return?�
Would I be prepared to go through with it?� I didn�t know the answer to this question,
but I figured there was no harm in making some inquiries.
�
Jack had a small
untidy office on the ground floor.� The
door was hanging open, and he was making no effort to disguise the fact he was
playing on a Playstation.� Jack looked a few years older than me, about
25, and he had the casual clothes and unkempt look of a grad student, although
thankfully he seemed hygienic enough.�
His office didn�t smell like some I have been in.
�
I nervously knocked
on the open door and said I had heard he was recruiting for a research
project.� At this he immediately stopped
his game and jumped up to welcome me in.�
He seemed very pleased to see me, and it didn�t seem to be just because
I�m not bad looking.� In fact, I�m aware
that I�m quite good looking when I make the effort.� I�ve got a good figure, nice face, and long
brown hair.� However, like a lot of
female students, I dress down for university to avoid unwelcome attention.� I was wearing loose casual clothing and I had
my hair pulled back in a simple ponytail.
�
No, Jack was
delighted to see me for plenty of other reasons.� He invited me to have a seat and then started
talking non-stop. As he talked about his work, I began to understand his
situation.� Jack was a third year PhD
student, and the research was his thesis project.� He explained that he had invested a lot of
time and energy into his research, but he was starting to lose hope that he
would ever get his fieldwork completed.�
He said that because of the nature of the fieldwork, he was always
struggling to find willing participants.
�
I was dying to
know what his research was about, so as soon as I could get a word in I asked.
�
�That�s not an
easy question to answer,� he answered.�
�You have to understand that the ethics agreement on my project is very
restrictive.� Before I can even tell you
specifics of what we�re researching, I�m obliged to get you to sign a
confidentiality agreement.� So before I
do that, can I ask you why you are interested?�
�
I blushed
slightly.� �To be honest, I�m only here
because I heard you help people to pass their statistics projects.� I�m really struggling with it.�
�
Jack wasn�t
pleased with this answer.� �Crap,� he
said, �there doesn�t seem any way to keep people from talking.� So what have you heard about the project?�
�
I blushed again,
more deeply this time.� �Nothing
much.� Someone mentioned it might be, you
know, a bit sexual.�
�
�Does that worry
you?�
�
�Well, yes!� A lot!�
But so much depends on passing this stats paper.� I don�t know what else to do.�
�
�I understand,�
said Jack, �because our situations are so similar.� If I don�t find enough subjects for my
fieldwork, then the last three years will have been for nothing.� I�m desperate too.� You see, even though I�ve got a corporate
sponsor for my research, the university lawyers have told me I�m not allowed to
pay my participants anything.� Because of
the nature of the research, they say it�s technically illegal for any payment
to change hands.� I got into the whole
stats tutoring thing pretty much by accident.�
It�s dodgy, and I�d get in trouble if word got out, but I see it as just
students helping each other out.� So
officially, the two things are unconnected.�
Students help me with my research, and it so happens that I give
generously of my time to help others.� I
guess the question I should ask is � have you heard any complaints out there
from people who thought they should receive help from me but haven�t?�
�
�No.�
�
�Then hopefully
we have an understanding.�
�
I nodded.
�
�So,� said
Jack.� �Do you want me to tell you about
my research?�
�
I nodded again.
�
The
confidentiality agreement he spoke of was short and simple.� By receiving information about the research,
I was still free to decide whether or not to participate.� However, whatever I decided, I promised not
to reveal any details of the project to any other person.� The purpose of this was to provide an extra
safeguard to protect the dignity and reputation of any past or future
participants.� It seemed over the top,
but you get a lot of these types of rules imposed by ethics committees.� I signed.
�
Jack then
unlocked a filing cabinet and got out his information sheet.� However, before he handed it over he
hesitated.
�
�Please read it
with an open mind. �At this point I
frequently get called a pervert or worse.�
Try to remember that this is genuine academic research, and that the
last three years of my life as well as my future career depend on this.�
�
I promise to give
him a fair chance, and he handed me the information which I immediately noted
was titled �Nudity and the Arousal Responses of Men and Women�.� Heavens!
�
Rather than
reproducing the full text here, I will summarise it for you.� The purpose of the research was to measure
and analyse the behavioural and physiological responses of male and female
subjects in situations where they were �naked and displayed in the presence of
another person�.� I could see why Jack
got negative reactions.� He was basically
looking for people to take their clothes off.�
Still, my promise to be open-minded and the dream of passing my stats
paper were enough to keep me from walking straight out the door.
�
I read further
down to what was expected of participants.�
Firstly, all participants were required to participate in an in-depth
interview, which would include questions about their sexual experiences and
attitudes.� This in itself was enough to
freak me out, but the second part of the field work was far worse.
�
The practical
part of the research would take place in one of the department�s observation
suites (two adjoining rooms separated by a one way mirror).� Access would be restricted to four
participants: Participant A, Participant B, the Experimenter (Jack), and a
female chaperone.� Participant A was to
remove all their clothes on the instructions of Participant B, and would follow
all instructions regarding posing and displaying themselves.� At no point was any person permitted to touch
Participant A.
�
As I read this,
my immediate thought was obviously to ask to be Participant B.� However, this hope was soon dashed by the
following paragraph which stated that the project was only recruiting for the
role of Participant A.� Due to the high
anticipated demand to be Participant B, and in the interests of fairness, only
people who had already been involved as Participant A would be recruited to
return in the B role.
�
As the
disappointment sunk in, I had to start thinking seriously about the consequence
of this.� I would be expected to
shamelessly expose myself to three other people.� Jack and some woman would be in the next room
watching through the one way mirror, while some other person would be there, in
the same room, ordering me to take off my clothes and show myself in the most
intimate way.� Who would be this
Participant B?� I read on.
�
According to the
information sheet, the gender of Participant B would be determined by random
probability.� In other words, there was a
50 percent chance that they would be a man, and a 50 percent chance they would
be a woman.� Reading on, I discovered
that the clothing of Participant B would also be determined randomly.� They would either be fully clothed, or they
would be dressed in their underwear.� I
couldn�t work out which would be worse.�
Either way the concept was mortifying.
�
My horror grew as
I read the section on data collection.�
The experiment would be recorded by a standard video camera as well as
an infrared camera, although it did say that the video software had face
recognition with automatic pixilation, so it would be impossible to make out my
face in any of the video recordings.�
There would also be a monitor connected to my skin to record
physiological data.� My reactions to the
ordeal would be recorded and analysed in great detail.
�
The information
sheet contained a great deal of additional information including all the usual
stuff about complaints procedures, and a huge number of indemnity clauses
including a section confirming that there would be no payment whatsoever, and
that the university �would not be liable for any accusations of being party to
the solicitation or supply of sexual services for payment!�
�
Jack sat silently
and waited for me to finish my reading.�
He undoubtedly received plenty of refusals, so he was quite careful not
to scare me away.� He reassured me that
it was entirely my own decision, and I could have as long as I liked to think
about it.� However, he then mentioned
that he knew my stats project was due soon, and coyly mentioned that he might
have time to help me in a few days time if his busy recruiting schedule had
some success.� He then suggested we make
an appointment to do his research interview the following morning.� If I turned up, great!� If I didn�t, he would understand.� Suddenly I found myself with one night to
make an incredible difficult decision.
�
That evening I
attempted to rationally work out what my decision would be, but whenever I
tried to picture myself going through with it, I couldn�t really cope with the
idea.� My imagination kept on shutting
down that train of thought.� So what I
did instead was throw myself into my statistics project.� I figured that if I could just make enough
progress, there would be no need to even consider the alternative.� However, the work just seemed to get more and
more complicated and I got more and more frustrated and upset.� I eventually went to bed in tears without
making a definite conscious decision, but at the same time knowing I would be
keeping my appointment with Jack the following morning.
�
Nothing had
changed when I woke up the following morning.�
My heart was heavy and my stomach was churning while my brain just tried
to ignore the situation I was facing.� I
made no special effort to make myself look nice before heading out to the
university, but this did nothing to diminish Jack�s obvious delight to see
me.� I did have some sympathy for his
situation, although mostly I figured he only had himself to blame for his
difficulties.� It helped that he was
polite, respectful and very, very grateful.
�
I won�t describe
the interview in detail, other than to say it was very personal.� Jack was surprisingly sensitive, but still I
started blushing right at the beginning and was still blushing well after it
was all over.
�
So what did Jack
learn?� As far as sexual experience goes,
there wasn�t a great deal to tell.� None
of my relationships have lasted very long, usually ended by me.� Five guys have touched my breasts, and three
of them have gotten to third base, reaching inside my pants or up my skirt and
putting their fingers in me.� Those three
all received handjobs, but none of them ever seemed
interested in attending to my satisfaction.�
All had tried to pressure me to go further, but in the end none of them
deserved anything more than they got.
�
So my attitudes
towards sex?� To be honest, I�ve become a
bit cynical and bitter, but not completely.�
I believe in true love and I believe in good sex.� My experiences so far have been with immature
and egotistical guys.� I�m trying to be
patient while the guys around me grow up a bit more.
�
As I answered
question after question about my most personal experiences, my brain was still
in denial about what was going on.� It
was like I was trying to imagine that it wasn�t really happening, and I was
living in a world where the problem of my stats paper just went away.� So when the interview was finally over and
Jack told me that he could arrange to get the rest of my involvement out of the
way the following evening, I almost agreed without any further thought.� However, there was no ignoring the intrusion
of reality, and I found myself in a sudden panic.� I started grasping for the first bit of
information that might help me decide.
�
�Will participant
B be a man or a woman?�
�
�I�m sorry,�
replied Jack, �but I can�t tell you.� It
would bias the results if I told people beforehand.� Anyway, I don�t actually know.� Ruth takes care of recruiting the other
participants.�
�
�Who�s Ruth?�
�
�Oh, Ruth�s my
research assistant and also my girlfriend.�
She also does the chaperoning, so you�ll meet her tomorrow night.�
�
�If I come.�
�
�Yes, if you
come.� You don�t have to make the
decision now, but I do need you to decide without any further information about
who else will be there.� You need to be
either in or out.� I really hope to see
you tomorrow night.�
�
Of course, if I
turned up he would be seeing more of me than I could contemplate.� I carefully scrutinised his face to see if he
intended the double entendre, but his face appeared totally sincere.� On an impulse, I committed.
�
�See you then.�
�
A night of fitful
sleep was followed by a day of classes where I struggled to concentrate on my
work.� Again, I was still in a sort of
denial, even though I was now active in my preparations.� It was a bit like how you get ready to go to
the dentist.� You actively prepare,
making sure you brush your teeth and taking precautions against bad breath, all
the while trying not to think about the coming pain, motivating yourself with
thoughts about how good everything will be once it�s all over.� After my last class I went home to prepare
myself for the evening.
�
Take a moment to
think about what you would do if you were in the same situation.� Maybe you quickly came up with a good plan,
but I hope you will understand that it wasn�t easy to think clearly.� Obviously shaving my legs and underarms was
high on my list.� Just in case you were
wondering, I gave my pussy hair a quick trim and tidy up around the edges, but
I certainly had no intention of doing anything more drastic than that.
�
Then I turned my attention
to what I would wear, pulling clothes out of the wardrobe and drawers and
throwing them on my bed, trying to figure out the right combination to
wear.� It was a bit like getting ready
for an important date, but in several ways it was completely different.� In fact, it was a bit more like getting ready
for a job interview.� It was all about
creating exactly the right impression.
�
To be honest, in
my confused state of mind it was more like I was getting ready for a game of
strip poker.� I�ll explain.� I realised that without any conscious thought
I was selecting lots of clothes that would go together in layers.� I had chosen a bra AND a camisole AND a
blouse and I was working on at least two more layers on top of that.� For my bottom half I had already planned some
leggings as well as a skirt over top of my panties.� It was like I was subconsciously relying on
lots of clothes to protect me from being exposed.
�
I eventually came
to my senses.� Wearing lots of clothes
would only prolong the ordeal.� There was
no avoiding the fact I was expected to strip naked.� The fewer clothes there were to remove, the
quicker it would all be over.� I resolved
to wear bra and panties, a button up blouse, a knee-length skirt, an overcoat,
and simple shoes that could be slipped on and off without having to bend
over.� For my underwear I chose a simple
set of blue bra and panties.� I wasn�t
intending to wear anything overly skimpy or sexy � they didn�t deserve to see
that � but I didn�t intend to embarrass myself with large granny-style
underwear either.� I wanted to look good
for myself, but I didn�t see why I should make any effort for their pleasure!
�
It had been
arranged for me to meet Jack and Ruth at a side entrance to the Psychology
Building as the building was locked at night.�
I was very surprised when I met Ruth.�
She was a short woman of a similar age to Jack, and she was wearing a
very prim and modest dress, and when she spoke she did so in a very ladylike
manner.� She didn�t seem at all the sort
of woman who would be associated with Jack or his perverted research.
�
After the
introductions were completed, Jack opened the door and invited me inside.
�
�What about the
other person we�re expecting?� I asked.
�
It was Ruth who
replied.� �We need to get set up first,
so we asked him to come later.�
�
HIM!!!� Immediately my heart started pounding and my
legs started to wobble.� The other
participant was going to be a male.� It
had always been slightly reassuring that there had been a fifty percent chance
it would have been a woman instead.� It
would still have been embarrassing, but I still would have preferred it.� But now even that hope had been taken away.� I stopped walking as I felt myself starting
to panic.
�
Ruth started
trying to gently reassure me.� �Don�t
worry about it, dear.� Come along into
the lab and I�ll make you a drink, and I�m sure you�ll feel better in a few
minutes.� Out of all the people we�ve had
through the project, Ian is probably one of the sweetest boys I�ve met.�
�
As she gently
guided me along the corridor, she started talking a bit more about herself to
take my mind off my situation.� She told
me that she had just finished a Masters degree in statistics and was now
working 9 to 5 for a government department while supporting Jack with his
PhD.� Despite my situation I found myself
grinning to myself as I listened, thinking about what a lucky bastard Jack
was.� It was obvious now that my
statistics project would be done by Ruth, not Jack.� We had now reached the observation suite and
Ruth was making some coffee while Jack started setting up his equipment, and I
was already starting to feel a little bit better.
�
We were sitting
on the observers� side of the one-way mirror looking through into the adjoining
room, which was furnished with two simple chairs and one of those beds you see
in doctors� offices � mercifully without any stirrups.� Jack, who had just finished setting up two
cameras in the room we were in, then said he would like to show me how they
worked.� He asked Ruth to go into the
other room while he and I looked at the screens.� On the screen for the infrared camera I could
see Ruth in the room showing up as bright colours, while the second screen
showed the output from a regular video camera.�
The amazing thing was that it showed a blurring over Ruth�s face.� No matter how many times she turned around or
tried to trick the camera, the software wasn�t fooled for a second.� It was amazing.
�
Next Jack showed
me the body monitor I would be wearing, which was nothing more than a band which
I could wear on either my upper arm or my thigh.� Since the blouse I was wearing had long
sleeves, I elected to wear it on my thigh like a garter.� Sitting down, I straightened out my leg and
pulled up my skirt to mid thigh to allow myself to strap the monitor in
place.� It was an easy enough thing to do
without showing anything, but it reinforced to me how unnatural the situation
was that I was in.� The skirt I was using
to hide my panties would soon be taken off, with the panties certainly
following.� How could I possibly go
through with this?
�
As if on cue,
Ruth�s phone suddenly beeped and she announced that Ian had arrived.� Jack went to unlock the door for him while
Ruth and I waited in silence.� I was
pacing the room nervously.� The room was
very warm, so I took off my overcoat and draped it over a chair.� A few moments later Jack reappeared, followed
closely by Ian.
�
Ian looked
nothing like I expected him to.� In my
mind I had been picturing a dirty old man, or maybe a misogynistic rugby player.� Ian looked surprisingly young.� He must have been a freshman, but he could
easily have passed for a 16-year-old.� He
was of average height, but he still managed to look gangly.� But the most striking thing was his face,
which looked young and fresh and innocent.�
Well, actually, not all that innocent.�
Naive and shy might be better terms.�
There was a certain look in his eye as he greeted me, as though he knew
he would be getting away with doing something naughty.� He said hello when introduced and he shook
hands with me politely.
�
Jack turned to
me.� �It�s time for you to go through
into the other room.� We have to spend a
few moments with Ian before we send him through.� When he goes in to join you, it will be time
to start.�
�
I went through
into the other room and resumed my pacing backwards and forwards.� No doubt they needed to take a moment to go
over the rules with Ian, particularly the no touching rule, thank you very
much.� In my nervousness I had forgotten
about the other variable of the experiment, so I was momentarily shocked when
Ian stepped through the door a few minutes later.
As Ian stepped
sheepishly into the room, he was wearing only his underpants, a pair of grey
briefs.� His face was bright red, and it
was a few moments before he seemed able to look in my direction.� During those moments I had an opportunity to
look him over.� He was thin and gangly,
but not overly skinny.� Maybe sinewy is
the right word.� There were certainly
some muscles between the skin and the bone.�
His hands were sometimes covering himself in the front, as though he was
trying to force himself to act naturally, and I had glimpses of his obvious
erection outlined in his briefs.� There
was no hiding his arousal.
�
After a few
awkward moments he finally looked me in the eye, and I could see excitement
mixed with nervousness and fear.� His
look pushed me into action.� My fingers
went to the top button of my blouse as I said �We might as well get started.�
�
�Wait,� he said
hurriedly.� �Stop!�
�
�What?�
�
He took a few
moments to find the words for his response.�
�It�s just that I�m meant to be the one giving the instructions, and
I�ve, um, got some ideas.�
�
�What like?� I
asked, a little bit snappishly.
�
He recoiled a
bit, but he held his ground.� �I want to
try something first, while you�ve still got your clothes on.� I want you just to stand there with your legs
apart.�
�
I didn�t
understand, but I did as I was asked.�
Then I started to figure out what he wanted when he lay down on his back
and started to slide himself under my skirt.�
I was startled and I immediately took a step back.� �What the hell?�
�
Again it took a
few moments for Ian to figure out what he was going to say.� �I know it�s weird,� he said, �but you need
to understand that this is like a free ticket for me, a chance to get away with
some of the things I�ll never be able to do in any other circumstances.� Did you ever think how sexy skirts are?� They�re just bits of fabric hanging down, but
I�m always thinking about how much I would see if only I could look under
them.� Now�s my chance.�
�
His words struck
a chord with me.� I had often thought
about how sexy skirts were, and I sometimes used it to my advantage.� I was often aware of how men would always be
looking for a glance whenever I sat down or stood up again, and I knew all the
tricks to thwart them.� Today, however,
the rules had been rewritten.� It was
with mixed feeling that I resumed the position with my legs apart.� Ian lay back down, and his head disappeared
from view underneath my skirt.
�
Of course,
compared to what followed, this was a very innocent start to proceedings, but I
would urge you to try to imagine what it felt like to have a strange man
wearing only underpants lying on the floor at your feet, looking up your skirt.� My heart was racing, and it took a lot of
effort to suppress the urge to step away.�
As his face was no longer in sight, I had no compunction about checking
out his erection pushing against the fabric of his briefs.� I could just make out a tiny spot of moisture
at the tip.� A small part of me recoiled,
but mostly I was pleased by his excitement.
�
After a short
time Ian sat up again.� I couldn�t resist
a quick jibe.� �Are you happy now?�
�
He looked
slightly hurt, but he made no comment.�
Instead, he went ahead with his next instruction.� �I�d like you to take off your panties now.�
�
For some reason,
I don�t know why, but this instruction threw me.� I guess I assumed the stripping would go in a
certain way, and his departure from this was unsettling.
�
�Why?� I wanted
to know.
�
�Please,� was all
he replied.
�
I hesitated for a
few moments, but there wasn�t any valid reason to refuse his request.� Taking them off had always been part of the
arrangement, and I could hardly protest on the grounds I was still wearing all
my other clothes.� I reached up under my
skirt and I pulled them down.� I hadn�t
given him a peek, but he still seemed spellbound by my actions.� In fact, I understood the sexiness of what I
had just done.� We both knew very well
that the fabric of my skirt was the only thing preventing my pussy from being
totally exposed.� I was starting to feel
excited.
�
As I placed my
panties on top of my jacket on the chair, Ian couldn�t help commenting on
them.� �I wondered what colour they
were.� It was almost impossible to make
them out under your skirt.�
�
I shouldn�t have
been surprised when Ian lay back down on the floor again, but I was still
struggling to come to terms with how the evening was going.� If he�d only let me take my clothes off at
the start, he would be looking at my naked body already.� Instead, he was spending all this time just
trying to get a glimpse up my skirt.� If
he hadn�t seen what colour my panties were, what chance did he have of seeing
my vagina?� I decided not to say a word
as he lay down and had a look.
�
He only spent a
short time looking up my skirt before he stood up again, confirming my
suspicion that he had seen a lot less than he had hoped.� The material of my skirt was very opaque, so
it would have been very dark up there.�
Ian stood in front of me, working out his next move while I waited.� His eyes roamed over my body, but most of the
time they seemed to be looking at my breasts.�
My breasts aren�t overly large � I wear a C cup bra � but they sit very
high without sagging, and I am used to people staring at them.� I started mentally preparing myself for the
inevitable order to take off my blouse, so I was unprepared when he ordered me
to take off my skirt.
�
I was surprised,
but I was also starting to get angry.�
Ian�s defiance of my expectations was unsettling to say the least.� I was so sure that the worst that would
happen next was to reveal my bra, but instead he was telling me to show him my
pussy and ass.� It seemed wrong, and I
wasn�t slow in expressing my displeasure.
�
�What the hell is
your problem?�
�
He looked hurt
and confused.� �What do you mean?�
�
I went on the
offensive.� �Are you proud of
yourself?� What makes you think you
deserve to see me take off my skirt?�
�
�That�s not
fair,� he retorted.� �I know you must
have volunteered for this, just like I did.�
Don�t think that I don�t know what it�s like.� I�ve been through exactly the same
thing.� In fact, I had it far worse than
you do.� A few weeks ago it was me being
ordered to take off my clothes by a woman I had never met before.� But in my case, she kept on laughing at me
and mocking me.� You haven�t had to deal
with that.� At least I�m aware of what a
privilege it is to be in my position.� I
think you�re a goddess.� Please let me
worship you.�
�
This last line
had a big effect on me.� I had to admit
that he was nothing but enthusiastic.� It
hadn�t occurred to me that this was a lot better than him being cruel.� I had gotten into this situation of my own
free will, and the outcome was that this guy was excited and pleased to be
here.� What had I expected to
happen?� It occurred to me that Ian was
at least as inexperienced as I was.�
Probably a lot less experienced.�
I had to ask.
�
�Have you ever
seen a naked woman before?�
�
Ian blushed.� �Not in real life.�
�
His response was
very sweet, and it had a big impact on what happened after that.� Like any woman, I knew that part of my
discomfort was being compared to other, more beautiful women.� There is something special about being with
an inexperienced man. �I was
curious.� �What made you ask me to take
off my skirt?�
�
Ian spent a few
moments in serious thought before replying.�
�I may not have seen much in real life, but I�ve seen a lot of different
pictures.� You may think this is weird,
but I�ve seen plenty of pictures of topless women, and plenty of women in just
their underwear.� They deliver lingerie
ads all the time in the letterbox at home.�
But what you never see is pictures of bottomless women who are otherwise
clothed.� That�s why I wanted to see
that.�
�
And to be honest,
I was starting to understand where Ian was coming from.� Even if it was a bit weird, who wouldn�t take
the chance to see the one image that you weren�t normally bombarded with?� I had to admit, the thing that made it weird
was the thing that made it special.� The
decision that faced me now was, was I going to give him what he wanted, or was
I suddenly going to renege on the whole arrangement?� I had gone so far already that it would have
been crazy not to take it to the next level.�
And just like that, I had committed myself to taking off my skirt.
The skirt I was
wearing had a zip at the back.� I reached
behind and unzipped it and then started pushing it down to my ankles.� The expression on Ian�s face was priceless.� Overwhelmingly he looked exceedingly
grateful, and I had to admit this felt good.�
All of a sudden there was nothing covering my pussy.� My natural reaction was to want to cover
myself with my hands, but I knew that Ian was allowed to have me pose in any
way I wanted.� So instead of giving him
that power, I took it instead.� I stood
before him with my hands at my side.� As
I did so, I looked up at the one way mirror, and all of a sudden I remembered
that my audience included Jack and Ruth on the other side of the glass.� This brought about some interesting
thoughts.� What would they be
thinking?� I suddenly realised that Ian�s
enthusiasm was motivating me, and now I was wondering if Jack and Ruth felt the
same.� They had watched action like this
many times before.� Maybe they didn�t
care that I was now showing them my most intimate body parts.� For reasons I didn�t understand, I was now
desperately keen for them to be excited by my partial nudity.
�
Of course, I
never got any immediate feedback from beyond the mirror, but the feedback I was
getting from Ian was all positive.� I
noticed that his hand would frequently go to the bulge in his underpants,
seemingly to readjust himself but in reality to give himself a quick stroke.� His excitement was so obvious, but he had no
option available to relieve his excitement.�
I knew that every time he touched himself he was only making himself
more aroused, and this knowledge only made me feel more powerful.� All of a sudden I felt the power of my
situation.� I knew it was me who was
torturing him rather than the other way around.�
This poor inexperienced boy was at my mercy.
�
There was no
surprise at his next request.� He asked
me to take off my blouse, leaving me in just my bra and shoes.� As I fumbled with my buttons I realised I was
hurrying to comply.� As I pulled open my
blouse and let it slip down my arms I was rewarded with an excited gasp from
Ian.� I placed my blouse with my panties
on top of my jacket and stood to allow Ian to look at me.
�
At this stage Ian
was sitting down on the other chair in a vain attempt to conceal his ever
present erection and the growing wet spot on his briefs.� He asked me to turn around, and I did
so.� He stared at me long enough to take
a mental picture of me clad in only a bra before he make the inevitable request
for me to remove it.� As it happens, this
created a problem that I hadn�t foreseen when I got dressed.� One of the hooks on this particular bra is a
bit bent, and it is very difficult to undo.�
This isn�t normally much of a problem because normally I take off my bra
the easy way � I pull my arms out of the shoulder straps and pull the bra
around until the hooks are at the front over my stomach.� That way it is far simpler to undo.� Unfortunately, it doesn�t look nearly as
sexy.
�
I was enjoying
looking sexy and loving the power it gave me, so I had a go at unhooking my bra
at the back.� Ian sat there, barely
breathing, while I reached behind me and fumbled with the hooks.� Unfortunately it wasn�t to be.� Ian continued to start at me.� I guess he was wondering if I was chickening
out.� Our eyes met, and I got my
inspiration for my next move.� I knew
that if I held his gaze, the eye contact would drive him wild no matter how
clumsily I removed my bra.
�
I gazed steadily
into Ian�s eyes, and what I saw there was overwhelming excitement.� I held his gaze as I slipped one shoulder
strap off my shoulder, followed by the second.�
The eye contact was also having a strong effect on me.� It greatly increased the intimacy of what I
was doing.� He had promised to worship
me, and that�s what he was doing.� I knew
I was becoming very aroused, and this was more than confirmed when a moment
later I felt a small trickle of my pussy juices run down my inner thigh.� And in that moment everything changed because
I could not resist breaking my eye contact with Ian and glancing down at my
thigh.
�
Of course, the
trickle of pussy juices wasn�t at all obvious to the eye.� But all of a sudden the power of the moment
had gone and I was acutely aware of where I was and what I was doing.� I was standing naked in front of a man I had
just met in a room at the university.� Naked, that is, except for a pair of shoes and a bra hanging
around my waist while my finger continued to fight with the hook to get it
undone.� I was also being watched by a
man and a woman in the adjoining room, and everything was being recorded on
video and infrared.� There was a monitor
strapped to my thigh taking readings of my heart rate and my perspiration and
god knows what else.� Suddenly I felt
very, very embarrassed.
�
As my mind was
flooded with all these feelings, my finger continued to work on autopilot
undoing my bra.� Finally it came undone,
and I simply let it fall to the floor.�
Ian�s eyes watched it drop, and then he did something extraordinary that
changed the dynamics of the moment yet again.�
He stood up and stepped forward to pick up the bra, and he gently added
it to the pile of my other clothes on the other chair.� I know it may seem really silly, but that
small gesture made an impact on me.� Here
he was, in the midst of exercising his power to make me strip naked, but he
still thought highly enough of me that he didn�t want my bra to come to any
harm on the floor.� I looked up at him
and thanked him.� My words helped him to
find his own voice.
�
�You are
amazingly beautiful,� he said.� �I just
wanted you to know that I really appreciate this.� This is the most awesome thing that has ever
happened to me.�
�
As Ian was still
standing, he started circling me slowly, coming to a stop at my side where he
could obviously get a good view of the profile of my breasts.
�
�They�re so
�pert!� he said.� �Can I ask what cup
size they are?�
�
It didn�t seem
that I should have to answer that question, as it wasn�t strictly part of what
I had agreed to do, but he had asked with such puppyish curiosity that I didn�t
have the heart to decline him.� �They�re
a C.�
�
�Really?� I was sure they were bigger.�
�
My breasts do
attract a lot of attention.� They aren�t
overly large, but they sometime look bigger because they don�t sag much at
all.� Two of my boyfriends had suggested
that I didn�t need to wear a bra, which is such a typical male idea.� If you want boobs that don�t sag, then wear a
bra.
�
Ian went and sat
down again.� The wet patch on the front
of his briefs was now about an inch in diameter, and he was obviously become
self-conscious about it.� He had remained
continuously erect for quite some time now.�
He looked at me shyly, and I could tell he was about to make one of his
unusual requests.� I wasn�t wrong.
�
�Would you mind
if I asked you to put your jacket on?�
�
This request so
surprised me that I started giggling.�
�Ian, I don�t think you really understand how this works.� The idea was to undress me, not cover me up.�
�
�I know, I know.� Just bear with me for a second.� It�s another one of my little fantasies.� Did you ever hear stories about women who go
to meet their boyfriends naked underneath their overcoat, sometimes driving
across town or even taking the bus?� I
love that idea.�
�
Ian was blushing
shyly, and I was starting to think that he was quite cute.� I put on my overcoat and did up a couple of
the buttons.� I was still wearing my
shoes, and all of a sudden I regretted my decision not to wear high heels.� High heels would have been heaps sexier right
now.
�
Ian continued to
talk about the fantasy.� �Ok, let�s
pretend you�ve just knocked on the door of my flat.� You�ve driven here wearing only that.� You didn�t even have any other clothes with
you in the car.�
�
As Ian spoke, I was
starting to get involved in the fantasy myself.�
He stood up and actually opened an imaginary door for me to walk
through.� I found myself saying �Hi
gorgeous.� Are you surprised to see me?�
�
Ian seemed so
excited by my participation that he seemed unable to say anything.� Instead he nodded excitedly.� Without needing any further encouragement, I
continued on with our role play.� �Well
baby, I�ve got one more surprise that I know you�re going to love.�� And with that I quickly undid the buttons on
my jacket and pulled it open.
In real life I
had never been in the scenario of arriving at a boyfriend�s house wearing
nothing but a coat.� Not only had I never
had the confidence, but none of those selfish jerks had ever deserved it.� Now, however, I was impressed with how sexy
it made me feel, and I resolved then and there that I would do it for real one
day.� I was feeling incredibly horny, and
I felt another trickle of pussy juices run down my thigh again, this time reaching
as far as the strap that held the monitor in place.� The excitement was unbearable, and I wondered
how much more I could take.
�
I slipped the
coat off and placed it back on the chair.
�
�I suppose you
should take your shoes off too,� said Ian.�
�Actually I quite like you wearing them, but the rules did say I was
meant to get you to strip fully naked.��
I slipped my feet out of my shoes and stood barefoot in front of
him.� The feel of the floor through the
soles of my feet only added to my sense of complete nakedness.
�
Ian looked at his
watch.� I wasn�t wearing a watch, so I
had no idea how close we were to the time limit that Jack had set.� Ian announced that we still had time for a
few poses.
�
I could tell from
the look on Ian�s face that he was determined to make the most of his time with
me.� He had spent some of his time
indulging a few whimsies, but now I knew he was going to get as intimate as he
was allowed.� All of a sudden he took
charge, and I surprised myself with my obedient response.� I gave no thought to the promised reward of
passing my statistics paper.� There, in
that moment, I was his to order around.
�
�Bend forward and
let your breasts hang down.� Good.� Now stand up again and give them a
jiggle.� Awesome.� Rub your nipples with your fingers.� Make them as erect as possible.�
�
To be honest, my
nipples were fully erect, but I obeyed his command by giving them a few flicks
and tweaks.� The sensation made my knees
go weak.� Ian was standing up again now, moving
close until his eyes were just a few inches away from my breasts.� He may not have been aware that he was
stroking the bulge in his underpants with his hand.� In the excitement my own hand went to my
pussy for a few moments before I forced myself to stop.
�
Ian then ordered
me up on the small bed and had me pose there on all fours while he walked
around me, spending most of his time standing behind me looking closely at my
ass and pussy, examining my most intimate places.� Looking back through my legs I saw him
continuing to stroke himself.
�
His next order
was for me to sit on the bed with my legs wide apart.� He knelt down between my legs with his face
only inches away.� I could feel his
breath on my thighs as he inspected my most private area from as close as he
could get without touching me.� Even
though we were now facing each other he seemed unable to stop touching himself.
�
�Use your fingers
to open it up,� he ordered.� �I want to
see everything.�
�
This command was
my worst nightmare when I had first been trying to decide whether or not to
take part in this, but now I found myself complying without hesitation.� I reached down with one hand and used my
fingers to spread my pussy lips for him.�
We were both breathing very heavily.�
The temptation of having my fingers on my pussy was too much for me to
bear.� I started rubbing myself as Ian
watched.� All self-control felt
completely abandoned.
�
A few seconds
later, Ian suddenly cried out as if in pain.�
I looked down and saw that the wet patch on his briefs had suddenly
exploded in size.� The whole front of them
was now soaking wet.� Ian looked as if he
was going to cry.� He quickly turned his
back towards me while he considered his options.� All of a sudden he ran for the door into the
other room and ran through.� The other
room of course was completely dark and he became disorientated.� He flicked the light switch, no doubt intent
on locating his clothes.
�
Of course, once
the light was on the one-way mirror became see through.� I was shocked by the scene that confronted
me.� I could see both Jack and Ruth caught
in the act of playing with themselves.�
Jack�s pants were open and he had his cock in his hand while Ruth had
her dress pulled right up to her waist.�
I could see Ian recoil in horror at the sight.� He gave up on trying to find his
clothes.� Instead, he lunged for the
other door and disappeared though into the corridor.
�
Jack and Ruth
both jumped to their feet.� Jack turned
away from me while he tried to stuff himself back into his pants.� As Ruth was wearing a dress, it immediately
fell into place as she stood up.� She
immediately rushed in and began apologising to me.� She was obviously very embarrassed, and she
would have known that she and Jack could get into a lot of trouble if it got
out that they had been masturbating during the experiment.
�
Of course, what I
had seen answered my earlier question about whether or not they were getting
excited about the show I had been giving them.�
There was absolutely no reduction in the horniness I was feeling.� I gave a feeble explanation that I needed to
go to the toilet before I too ran out through the door into the corridor.� I ran down the empty corridor towards the
women�s toilet and locked myself in one of the stalls.� A short time later I reached my climax.
Once I had
recovered sufficiently I came out of the stall I was in.� Ruth was waiting quietly for me carrying my
pile of clothing.� She continued to
apologise while I got dressed.� We walked
together to the observation room where Jack too added his apologies.� He looked suitably ashamed, and I realised
that I wasn�t feeling angry.� Ian still
hadn�t returned, and I started to worry about him.� Jack was holding Ian�s clothes and he said he
would go and look for him in the men�s toilet.�
I instantly realised that I wanted to be the one to look for him.
�
Jack looked
surprised, but he wasn�t about to argue with me.� I took Ian�s clothes and I made my way back
down the corridor towards the toilets.� I
pushed open the door into the men�s and called out �Are you in there Ian?�
�
Fortunately a
sense of humour had returned to Ian�s voice as he replied �I�m not really
taking visitors right at the moment.�
�
I smiled and
pushed on past the door into the toilets.�
One of the stall doors was shut and I could see Ian�s bare feet
underneath.� �I�ve got your clothes,� I
said as I draped his pants and his shirt over the top of the door.� Ian grabbed his pants, then a few moments
later he unlocked the door and came out to put on the rest of his clothes where
there was more room to move.� I noticed
that the underpants he had been wearing were now lying in a wet heap on the
floor beside the toilet.� Once he was
dressed he picked them up and tossed them in the rubbish bin.
�
�Who needs the
hassle of trying to get them home?� he said with a smile and a slight blush.
�
Since I knew that
Ian was now going commando I couldn�t resist having a look at his crotch.� A tell-tale lump announced he was hard
again.� I know I had previously thought I
was looking for a more mature man, but suddenly I could see the advantages of
youth, especially when they think I�m beautiful and want to worship me.� What the hell, I thought, he�s probably no
more than two years younger than me.
�
�Do you want to
grab a drink?�
�
We left without
saying goodbye to Jack and Ruth.� Ruth
rang later to check we were ok, and I confirmed that everything was fine.� I even went so far as to say that I was open
to returning as Participant B if needed.�
And just in case you were wondering, the statistics project Ruth did for
me was given an A.�
�
The End
Chris Warner
October
2010
�