Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Ribeye98
Title: Thornwood Episode III - In training
Part: 56 - 59 of 59
Summary: Rachel enters swim training while her spiral of arousal and
embarrassment continues.
Keywords: fsolo, mast, exhib, voy, humil, nc, mf, Mf, 1st, bd,
blackmail, toys, nosex
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Author's Note Copyright 2012 all rights reserved.  Please do not repost
this story on other sites without permission (ribeye98@gmail.com).  By
accessing this story, the reader hereby certifies that he/she is of an
appropriate age to access adult material and that such material is
permitted in the locality or country where the reader resides.  The
following is a creative work of fiction, and the characters or incidents
described do not resemble any persons or events in the real world.
   You can read the rest of this story at https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Ribeye98/www/
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Thornwood Episode III - In Training Part 56
   For the first time in hours, Rachel had some privacy.  Tapping the push
button lock with her elbow, she barely took two steps before collapsing
against the counter.  Her body had one objective; relieve some pressure
from her nipples before they burst.  To do that she had to free her hands.
She spilled most of the gel into the nearest sink but had the presence of
mind to rescue enough by rotating her hands until they were coated in the
stuff.
   Then she could wait no longer.  Picturing the college guy's expression
as he drank in her nakedness, she reached up and squeezed both excited
nipples.
   "ooooOOOOAGH!" she moaned as the pent up hormones radiated from her
breasts.  More spasms beckoned her below.  Eager to scratch that itch, she
showed enough restraint to finish cleaning her hands first.  No telling
what damage this chemical could cause if it got inside her.
   **Now what was it Pierre said?  Something about the soap dispensers.
   Green goo dripping from her blue chest like a B-movie alien costume gone
awry, Rachel studied the dispensers on the wall.  The first one contained
regular hand soap.  The second was moisturizing lotion.  And the third was
simply labeled `industrial'.
   **Hmm.  I'm pretty sure he said to stay away from the lotion...and
something about warm water.
   She waivered between the other two options but settled for regular soap.
She could always add some industrial soap later if this didn't work. 
Standing on wobbly legs she leaned over and squirted a dollop of soap into
her left hand.  Then she twisted the `H' faucet tap.
   "Woah!" She had misjudged the pressure and had to jump back as water
sprayed from the sink in all directions.
   By the time she worked close enough to turn it off, the temperature had
risen to somewhere between scalding hot and pure steam.  A fair amount of
water had splashed up onto her chest; a minor annoyance as she could easily
dry off later and a lesser concern than the precariously slick floor.
   Sliding back in front of the sink, Rachel worked the soap-gel mixture in
her hands vigorously.  Her enthusiasm stemmed not from a desire to get
clean.  Rather, spasms were coming with more frequency now and she was
impatient to tend to her body's sexual needs.
   After a minute of scrubbing she checked her progress.  The effort had
perhaps loosened some spots of stubborn ink but not fast enough for her
taste.  But just as she was about to give up and try the other soap,
something started to happen.
   The smattering of water droplets from the sink incident combined with
the soluble-by-design hand soap had provided enough moisture to induce the
green gel into a chemical reaction.  Like magic the gel solidified into a
thick filmy paste not unlike glue.  Rachel would have studied the
phenomenon longer if not for the burning sensation.
   A common trait among successful individuals is that adversity tends to
breed determination.  Whereas a lesser person might panic at this point,
Rachel managed to focus through her sexual haziness and recall Pierre's
warnings.  The gel expanded and hardened and little bubbles appeared on the
surface while the pain continued to increase.
   **Pierre wouldn't have put it on me if it were actually dangerous.  I
just have to stay calm and follow his instructions.  He said water would
activate it and that I should scrub it off quickly.  And he definitely said
to use the industrial soap.  Yes!
   Sequestering the warning signals from her hands, Rachel calmly scooted
over to the far sink and quickly dispensed a good amount of industrial
soap. Unlike the flowery smelling hand soap, this was a coarse gray
substance with bits of grit obviously meant for serious cleaning.  With
renewed urgency she resumed scrubbing.  When she could take it no longer,
Rachel turned on the spigot and shoved her hands under a stream of cold
water.  Nothing happened.
   The gel had encased her hands in a green shell too hard for the water to
penetrate.  It would not budge until the time was ripe for it to finish its
job.  After a couple minutes of tortuous agony she was able to gradually
peel back the scabbed layers by scraping her hands together.  Where she
broke through the water did finally relieve the pain as Pierre had
intimated.
   Pain slowly subsided as Rachel peeled off more and more shell.  It
apparently cooked the ink right off her along with an outer layer of skin
cells.  The result was a pair of perfectly pristine if slightly tender
hands.
   Rachel was just starting to calm down from the near catastrophe when the
real problem hit.  She had been so focused on her hands; she had forgotten
the globs on her chest.  The water droplets had begun the chemical reaction
there as well; albeit at a slower rate.  And her over stimulated nerve
endings had taken longer to register their distress.
   When she re-noticed it, she acted on her first instinct to get it off
immediately and made the terrible mistake in the process.  Reaching up with
both hands she tried to wipe the gel clean off her chest.  But it had
already bonded with her skin and begun the transformation to gluey paste.
And the infusion of water to the equation sealed the deal.
   "no, no, NO!"
   Pawing at her chest prompted more shivers as her body oscillated between
discomfort and arousal.  It appalled Rachel to learn that squeezing her
nipples produced pleasure even in the midst of such torment.  The
endorphins served to counteract the pain so she continued pinching them as
long as she could.  But like adding fuel to a fire, the extra water from
her hands accelerated the gel's transformation.  Soon she could do nothing
but wait as before when it expanded into round discs then hardened.  Her
chest had received the heaviest coat of ink which set the stage for the
massive chemical battle ongoing beneath the shell.
   Rachel danced around the restroom as the two inadvertently constructed
chemical pasties attacked her breasts.  Seeing her hands reassured her that
there would be no permanent damage to the sensitive skin underneath.  But
that didn't prevent it from hurting like hell and chasing away any thoughts
of resuming her bate session.
   She paced the floor on the verge of tears and mentally kicked herself
for the moment of weakness which had transferred the gel to her nipples in
the first place.  In the back of her mind, some future worry coalesced. 
But it was too vague to dwell on and the immediate pain to real.
   When the fire on her chest reached its furious climax indicating her
ordeal was nearly over, Rachel filled a sink with water.  She intended to
splash the water up as the chemical flaked off.  But when the time came she
needed more intense relief.  She leaned over, submerged her breasts and
performed the removal process underwater.
   Because of the relatively smooth contours of her firm chest, the each
shell peeled off mostly in one piece.
   Relief.
   For some time Rachel massaged her breasts beneath the cool water.  It
still did not sink in how the loss of ink would affect her uniform.  Not
until she stood up and looked in the mirror did she see the full
consequence of her moment of weakness.
   "OH MY GOD!"...TO BE CONTINUED
   Thornwood Episode III - In Training Part 57
   Pierre reached the changing room and found the girl's skirt folded right
where she said it would be in room two.  He went straight to the tailor
station to get some scissors.  Anger seethed beneath the surface as he
trace cut around the sign.
   **Kids these days have no respect.
   She dared to report to work dressed like a stripper.  Then she had
proceeded to act like a stripper; discarding the supplied uniform and
abusing store merchandise like it was her own personal wardrobe closet. 
The sign was supposed to send a message to potential shoplifters.  It
couldn't if the girl didn't wear it.
   Pierre cut out the entire skirt except the waist.  He left the sign
attached to a one inch band.  The rectangle was plenty big enough to cover
her pussy if she wore it facing forward.  But her entire backside would be
exposed.  Or turning it the other way around would force her to keep one
hand strategically placed at all times.  He hadn't decided how she should
wear it yet and he wasn't going to let her pick.  Once in place a spot of
superglue would prevent her from adjusting it or leaving it behind again.
   **If she doesn't want to wear the skirt, I can accommodate that.  But
she is still going to wear the damn sign.  Where is the damn girl anyway?
   When the girl didn't return from the restroom in a timely manner, Pierre
took his anger out on the sign.  First he cut the corners off to make it an
oval.  No problem as long as the message remained.  A few minutes later he
got impatient and traced around the words themselves.  Finally he targeted
all remaining white space by cutting the holes out of the O's and D's.  The
result was black lettering which hung in space.
   Her fair unblemished skin would make an ideal background for his new
design; though its ability to conceal anything was effectively ruined.
   Just when he was about to go searching for her, Rachel arrived; looking
a whole new level of ridiculous.  Pierre could have laughed at the whole
thing if it weren't so erotic.  The naked girl sported her same impressive
bosom only this time sans ink.
   Her chest looked like two dart boards.  A field of blue ink which still
covered her torso encircled and bounded the game board.  Bulging areas of
healthy white breast flesh formed the outer scoring area.  Only a hint of
pink tenderness remained from the chemical purification process.  Next came
her areolas in the center; a brighter shade of pink.  And her nipples were
two bulls-eye darts which had already found their target.
   That she said nothing about the ink's mysterious disappearance only
intensified the silliness of it all.  Pierre played along and didn't
mention it.  He inspected and approved the cleanliness of her hands and
pretended to not even notice her bare chest.
   Pierre positioned the sign around her waist facing forward.  He
calculated it would actually be more embarrassing this way.  In addition to
her bottom being completely exposed she would also have to keep her hands
away from the front so people could read the sign.  An attentive reader
would surely notice her hairless pussy lips peeking out through the holes.
He applied a few drops of super glue in the small of her back to keep the
band in place then he got down to business.
   "You have failed every assignment thus far.  I will not release you from
duty until you have restored this department to original condition.  You
are welcome to stay late and finish.  But if you must leave, you will
return for as many days as it takes."
   Rachel made it clear that she intended to finish today; even if she had
to stay all night.
   "Very well.  I will contact your ride and let them know you may be
working late.  I will be back later to check on you.  Remember, the store
is not closed yet and you are still responsible for assisting customers in
your department.  If I return to find you shirking that responsibility, I
will consider it a violation of our agreed terms and have to insist on a
reinstatement of the original full four week punishment."
   She accepted the terms without arguing.  So Pierre left her alone and
returned to his office to work on some pressing end of week tasks.  The
store would be closing in about two hours.
   Rachel got right to work on the enormous task ahead of her.  It seemed
the scavengers had left no rack untouched.  Despite Pierre's dire warning,
she didn't help the first few customers who ventured by.  She simply
couldn't bring herself to do it in her nearly nude state.  She gambled that
Pierre wouldn't be back so soon and kept hidden until they left.
   Finally an older gentleman who reminded her of Mr.  Dalsington arrived.
Wearing nothing but a skimpy sign and a friendly smile, Rachel gathered her
courage and stepped out.
   "How my I assist you?" her body found another blush stashed away
somewhere as the man took in the pleasant surprise.  She silently pointed
to the sign and kept smiling.
   The man took his sweet time studying the sign and, once he understood
what was going on, gladly took advantage of the nude girl's hospitality. 
He ended up buying over $500 worth of merchandise.
   The process repeated several times.  Rachel still avoided younger men
and only dared approach the older ones.  Each new customer brought another
round of embarrassment as he appraised her naked body and then took time to
`read the sign'.  But Pierre was right about one thing.  Sex sells.  And
every customer she helped ended up making several large purchases.
   But helping customers used up most of her cleaning time.  When the store
closed at 7:30, she had barely touched the mess.  As promised Pierre let
her stay late and finish the job.  The exhausted girl finally finished
around 9:30 and trudged back through the now empty store to the main
offices.  She had worked right through dinner but didn't care.  She would
be elated if she never saw this store again.
   Rachel used Pierre's desk phone to call Susan to pick her up then walked
back to change into her regular outfit.  But when she got to her clothes an
unfortunate surprise awaited her...TO BE CONTINUED
   Thornwood Episode III - In Training Part 58
   Rachel had unknowingly left her jean skirt and red leather vest in a
precarious position.  The tiny shelf where she had stowed her articles was
actually too small to contain them.  It also sat directly over the still
open bucket of ink.  It looked more secure than it was because the magnets
on her vest had latched onto bracket near the back of the shelf.
   Over the course of several hours the magnets slowly lost the battle with
gravity and detached from the bracket.  When that happened, both articles
of clothing tipped off the shelf and landed directly in the bucket.  By the
time Rachel returned, they were thoroughly ruined by the ink.
   Rachel didn't know how to react.  She was frustrated by the shocking
turn of events, fearful of Susan's wrath when she found out about yet
another ruined outfit, and embarrassed that she was once again stranded
without clothes in such a public place and would most likely have to ride
home naked.  She would have blushed again if her body hadn't already used
them all up.  But more than anything she was tired.
   She returned to Pierre empty handed and unclothed except for her shoes.
Pierre didn't ask about her clothes.  If the young lady wanted to remain
naked for the rest of the evening, what did he care?  He was in a genial
mood after checking the register and seeing her late-day sales numbers.  He
snipped off the sign but had to leave a little square of fabric where he
had super glued it to her back.  It would come off on its own eventually.
   He escorted her to the exit and explained that she would have to wait
outside for her ride because he was locking up.  She seemed unaffected by
being forced to wait outside naked.  It must not have bothered her because
it was dark out now and the mall was deserted.  But after Pierre said
goodbye, Rachel backed into the shadows of some foliage where she could
still see the approaching driveway.  Here the day's stress finally caught
up to her and she started to cry.
   **What's the use in fighting anymore?  Everything I do I end up naked. I
never should have given mom my clothes at the tryout.  I never should have
put that swim uniform on.  And I certainly never should have walked home in
it.  I wish I could just stop hiding and not be so embarrassed by the
exposure.
   But she knew that would never work because the arousal feedback loop
kept her body in a near constant state of arousal.  Orgasmic release was
the only way out, but she couldn't even achieve that anymore.  She was
stuck.  That made her angry.
   **Get a hold of yourself, girl.  It's no use sniveling in the corner. 
You have to face your problems head on and overcome it.  Nothing is too
difficult.  Create a plan of attack and follow through.
   Right there in the bushes Rachel developed a new strategy to deal with
her situation.  All semblance of privacy had been stripped away over the
past two weeks and she was running herself ragged trying to contain her
resulting embarrassment and arousal.  She needed to start picking her
battles more carefully.  Perhaps she could manage her problem by reducing
opportunities for exposure and compartmentalizing existing ones.
   She had already learned to cope at swim practice.  She was comfortable
enough around her teammates not to feel embarrassed anymore even after
incorporating the pinnacle.
   Giving up on school was out of the question.  Whatever outfits Susan
threw her way, she had to make the best of it and limit her exposure.  High
school is the center of the universe for a teenage girl.  She could not
afford to let her guard down there.
   That left her home life.  If she was destined to be naked or nearly so,
she realized she had to stop hiding from Eric's family.  It took too much
of her energy to shy away from them after being barely dressed and on guard
all day at school.  She had to get down time somewhere.
   There were plenty of gaping flaws in her new strategy.  Not the least
among them would be intentionally cutting out all extemporaneous activities
and limiting her domain to home, school, and swimming.  It also meant
giving up all prospect of extracurricular interactions; including school
dances, community activities and a boyfriend.  But hadn't she basically
already done that by joining the swim team?
   **Beside, what good are social activities if you're constantly dragged
down the path of utter public humiliation?
   She pictured herself going on a date with Tommy at a fancy downtown
restaurant only to end up buck naked.
   **NO THANKS!
   The most glaring hole remained.  What would she do when it came time to
actually travel to swim meets?  At least she had a few weeks to work on
that one.  She didn't let it deter her.
   Rachel always felt better when she had a plan of execution.  Susan's
arrival gave her the first chance to advertise her new lax attitude toward
nudity in the presence of Eric's family.  Initially Susan was not
impressed. A naked blue ink stained girl appearing from the shadows
confused her enough to throw off her train of thought.
   "Rachel?  What are you doing out here naked?  Where are your clothes,
young lady?"
   "I'm not naked!  See?" Rachel spun around and pointed to the one inch
square of fabric on her lower back before bouncing into the passenger seat.
She dissipated the showdown by making light of the situation.  Eric did
that sort of thing with his parents all the time with great success. 
Rachel made a note to hone that tactic for future use.
   Susan, taken aback by the jest, temporarily dropped the issue.  But it
still bothered her enough to regret working so hard that afternoon to alter
Rachel's one remaining outfit for school the next day.
   **I should have sent her to school with her ass hanging out.  Maybe then
she would learn some respect.  Oh well.  Let's see how she likes wearing
the same outfit for a week!
   She gave the girl a guarded smile and started the car...TO BE CONTINUED
   Thornwood Episode III - In Training Part 59
   Rachel returned home.  Over the course of the next week she continued to
put her new strategy into practice.  She restricted her activities to three
arenas; school, swim practice, and home.
   As promised, Susan made her wear her wonderland dress to school every
day.  The modifications made it marginally acceptable.  But when she got
home, Rachel forced herself to shed it and spend her evenings naked.  She
doubted she would ever get comfortable with it, but she could appreciate
routine.  It helped that Richard was out of town at a conference.
   Eric certainly took notice that Rachel stopped hiding around the house.
She still wore her work apron when doing chores, but the rest of the time
she wore nothing at all.  She indicated no shame in showing her bare body,
though her nipples betrayed her true feelings and were almost always fully
erect.  She wore her cupless nightgown to bed.
   Rachel found an unlikely ally in Eric.  She appreciated how he, as a
sort of courtesy, casually mentioned when Tommy would be stopping by.  At
those times she would find an excuse to make herself scarce or go put her
school clothes back on.  She wasn't ready for Tommy to see her naked just
yet.
   The hardest day came the next Saturday.  By then the mood of the house
had taken a dive.  Susan's suspicions of Richard tended to kick into high
gear when he went away to his conferences; and with good cause.  Spending a
week or two at some fancy beach resort with a bunch of interns made for a
breeding ground of infidelity.  By the Saturday she was a basket case.  It
didn't help that she had missed out on a week of satisfaction herself.  She
wasn't ashamed to admit Richard made a good sexual partner.  He was
physically blessed where it counted.
   Overall Rachel's compartmentalizing strategy seemed to be working.  She
had gone a whole week without embarrassing herself in public.  School had
provided a few close calls, but her diligence prevented anything too
serious.  But after five days of nothing but school, swim practice, and
chores Rachel was starting to feel like a prisoner.  That her occasional
masturbation attempts proved unsuccessful only added to her frustration. 
By Saturday she was pacing the house snapping at anything that moved.
   While Rachel was stuck at home, Eric had no such restrictions.  Faced
with two angry women, he made the prudent choice to get out of there.  He
spent the rest of the weekend holed up at Tommy's house playing video
games.
   But something else was real source of Rachel's sour mood.  At that very
moment her Thornwood varsity team was in pitched competition with Eastern
Academy at the first swim meet of the season.  But Rachel was missing it
because of her suspension.  It ate her up inside that she couldn't be with
her team battling for victory.
   Ellie had promised to update her throughout the day but she hadn't yet
received a single phone call.  She didn't know if that was a good sign or
bad.  When Ellie didn't call by lunch time, Rachel got fed up and decided
to take some practice laps.
   She had to wear her team uniform.  Typically she would avoid wearing it
outside of the aquatic facility.  But Richard and Eric were both gone and
she didn't own a casual swimsuit anyway.  Two full weeks of training with
the pinnacle were starting to pay off.  The insertion process was much
easier now.  Rachel was able to relax her vaginal muscles at the proper
time then flex them to draw it inside her.
   When she wasn't swimming she could now easily hold the pinnacle in place
without any anchor inflation.  But from experience she knew that her body
would start to product lubrication and the anchor would eventually slip. 
As a precaution she usually inflated it about half way and could make it
through practice without any trouble.  Then she sauntered out into the back
yard to work out some nervous energy the hot sunshine.
   Lap after lap Rachel alternated strokes.  These last two weeks of
training had really elevated her conditioning to new levels.  She felt
stronger and more confident in her abilities than ever.  Surely the
pinnacle had something to do with that.  She pictured herself attending a
meet in her uniform.  In the water everyone was equal.  It didn't matter
what you wore or even if you wore anything at all.
   When she pondered her situation she had to admit it wasn't so bad after
all.  For this stage in her life she could live with a little exposure if
it meant becoming a champion.  She was truly ready and couldn't wait for
her chance to compete and win...THE END
   STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT PART!  Thornwood Episode IV - The Champion
  
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