Hacker’s Punishment Continued
This story is a continuation of B.H. Paulson’s “Hacker’s Punishment.” When I read Mr. Paulson’s story I got a kick out of it. I was disappointed, though, that it ended after the sixth task so I thought that I’d try to finish the story. Mr. Paulson made this difficult by leaving poor Melanie totally humiliated and she still had six tasks to go. The problem is how do I create six more tasks, each increasingly more difficult and humiliating, without getting Melanie arrested?
If this story is going to make any sense you should read “Hacker’s Punishment” under B.H. Paulson’s name in the “Enforced Nudity Section.”
Chapter 1 Melanie’s Fifth Post to Leviticus
This is my second post today. I thought I was done when I got home from work but since you perverts are supposed to know about my entire day I thought I better tell you about what was left of my Saturday.
Saturday was probably the worst day of my life. I spent my entire dinner reliving the torture thatI experienced during the day. While eating my naked dinner it occurred to me that my day wasn’t over. I was supposed to meet my two best friends, Katy and Jen, for our usual Saturday night out. I would have canceled except that Levi specifically said that I had to meet with my friends as usual. There was some kind of rule about what I was allowed to wear so I rooted through my computer desk to find the printout that I had made. The rules which I finally found said the following: “shoes, a short skirt (I will tell you if I think it is too long, and right now all of yours are), and a button down shirt, with no more than three buttons buttoned.”
After what I had gone through during the day I figured that I could live with that. I’d have to make up some story to explain to Katy and Jen why their best friend had suddenly turned into a slut but I’d think of something.
I showered and chose a skirt and blouse that I hoped would satisfy Levi. Probably not. The only thing that satisfied Levi was my total nudity. Which is the state I was in as I proceeded to the car where I placed my paltry clothing on the passenger seat.
The toughest part about leaving the house was opening the garage door. I had no idea who was on the other side ready to see my naked body. For all I knew it could have been the local Cub Scout pack walking by. I suppose that I could have gotten down on my knees and lifted the door a couple inches and peeked under it but I think Levi would have enjoyed that scenario too much. And if I tried it I know for certain that he’d know it. So I simply pulled the door up and ran for the car. This evening I was lucky. No one in sight.
Driving a car while naked isn’t particularly easy. Not if you’re a woman and want to preserve any degree of modesty. I’d lower the seat as much as possible and then scrunch down as much as I could trying to minimize my exposure. People in other cars could see no more than my bare shoulders. The problem, of course, was SUVs and trucks. If the driver was looking he got a nice view of my naked breasts and naked legs and, if I wasn’t quick with hand, my well trimmed bush. Like tonight. I had just pulled out of the driveway and was making my naked way down my street when Bubba in his monster pick-up with its raised suspension comes toward me. I scrunched some more, hunched my shoulders, covered my crotch and stared straight ahead. As he drove by he looked, he honked and he braked. With my heart racing I floored it. I checked my rear view mirror and saw him making a u-turn. Fortunately his big truck wasn’t all that maneuverable. By the time he had it pointed in the right direction I had turned left and then right. I lost him in the maze of suburbia. My heart was still in my throat when I found an empty parking lot to dress in. I must have sat in my idling car for another ten minutes before I calmed myself down enough to drive to the bar where I was to meet my friends.
A fun Saturday in the life of Melanie. First I flaunt my naked body in front of Zeke, the company marketing guy, and then I’m chased around town, naked, by Bubba the truck driving pervert.
DAMN YOU, LEVI! DAMN YOU TO HELL!!
Now that I’ve got that off my naked chest I’ll continue with my evening.
I was meeting my friends at Banana Joe’s, a small bar where we frequently met. It had good snacks and big TV showing the ubiquitous ball game. When I walked in some of the guys looked my way and waved hi. No double takes so far. I spied my friends and walked quickly to their table. As I drew closer their eyes widened and their mouths dropped.
“Hey, Melanie,” said Katy. “Trolling for a one night stand tonight?”
“Ha, ha,” I replied. “I just felt kinda sexy this evening when I got dressed. Do you think I overdid it?”
“I think so,” said Katy.
Jen just stared. Of the three of us Jen was the smart one, Katy was the ditsy one, and I was kind of in the middle,
Jen leaned across the table and with her wide eyes locked on mine, she asked, “Are you wearing a bra, Mel?”
I figured it had to show what with the various gaps between my strategically buttoned three buttons and leftover cleavage. But I guess Jen had to make sure.
“You mean you can tell?” I replied.
Katy sort of snorted and Jen leaned back and continued staring with the same wide eyed look.
“Well you sure got balls,” said Katy. “I’d never have the nerve to dress like that. Although I gotta admit you do look awfully cute and sexy. Emphasis on sexy. Couldn’t you get your skirt any shorter? I mean like your butt’s not showing yet. Maybe you could hike it up a little. Your skirt I mean”
I felt a little better with Katy joking about my attire. Or lack of. Katy liked to talk and have fun. She enjoyed a couple beers and she had the bladder the size of a thimble. “Gotta go,” she said and rose to head to the ladies room.
“What, again?” said Jen.
Katy turned and flipped her the bird. “Fuck you,” she said in a quiet voice and strode off to pee.
Jen and I smiled at each other. Jen got that look again. “Are you wearing panties?” she asked.
I was startled by the question. How could she know? Did it show somehow? I was all of a sudden getting nervous and it probably showed. “Jen,” I said. “Why on earth would ask that?”
“Just a feeling,” she replied and pressed on. “So are you?”
Do I lie? If I did would Levi know? But none of that really mattered. I simply couldn’t lie to Jen. So with trepidation and some humiliation I told the truth. “No Jen, I’m not wearing any panties.”
I said it with what I hoped was a confidant, self-assured smile. Jen’s reaction surprised me. She simply leaned back in her chair and with her intent look she said, “Wow!”
And that was that. Katy returned and we talked and joked for a while and Jen never mentioned it again. Not to me and not to Katy. But off and on I kept getting that intent stare.
We were joined by some guys we knew and we talked and laughed and flirted. Nothing serious. Just the usual Saturday night stuff. It was particularly nice for me because it took my mind off my life as a closet nudist. Or it would have except for the guy who took the chair on my left. He pretty quickly determined that I wasn’t wearing a bra and that there were several gaps in my shirt. I’m sure that he saw a lot of breast and an occasional nipple. It’s always fun to get a rise out of a guy but this was too much. Again, I felt humiliated. An emotion that I was getting all too used to.
As we talked it occurred to me that I was exhausted. Naked at the office, Zeke, Bubba: it was all catching up with me. I made my excuses and turned down multiple offers for a date from the boob inspector. As I rose to leave so did Katy and Jen for the obligatory departing hug. Katy first.
“You’re nuts,” she whispered in my ear as we hugged.
When I hugged Jen all she said was, “Wow, Melanie.”
Did the contact seem a little tighter than usual? More intense?
On the way home I thought about it. Trying to figure out where Jen was coming from. I stripped at one of my usual spots and continued driving naked. It was dark and there was little traffic. When I got home there was nothing from Levi.
So, perverts, here’s my final post for the day. Jack-off or do whatever. I’m going to bed.
Chapter Two Melanie’s Sixth Post to Leviticus
Sunday started like every other day. Naked. After showering I settled down in front of the computer with a coffee in my hand and butterflies in my stomach. What embarrassment and humiliation did Levi have in store for me today? He didn’t disappoint me. I opened his e-mail with trepidation.
Dear, sweet, Melanie,
I enjoyed last night’s post immensely. I think you’re coming along just fine. Only six more tasks and this will all be behind you. But there are a few issues that we have to discuss. First, your car. When I made your rules it was clear that you were not to change your routine. And yet I noticed that you’ve started backing your car into the garage instead if driving in frontwards as usual. The reason you chose to change your routine is obvious. The opened car door offered you some privacy when getting in and out of the car. You are to be punished for this infraction and I will tell you how later in this e-mail.
Shit! Such a minor thing. I hate you, Levi.
Next issue. You were told that you were to get in shape. Lay off the junk food and start exercising. And what have you done? Beer and nachos at the bar and no other effort. Melanie, dear, if your going to walk around naked you have to look good. And as we both know, you are going to walk around naked. I have made up an exercise regimen that should help. It’s attached to this e-mail. I want you to follow it every day at 7 PM sharp. This will give you time to get home from work and have your dinner. I was going to let you do your exercises in the back yard but since you seem to be so concerned about your modesty you will do them in your living room in front of the picture window that faces the street. Your drapes, of course, must remain open.
Exercises! In the nude! For the whole world to see! Just for backing the car in. Bastard!
Now for the last issue, Melanie. Your yard and shrubbery are looking a little neglected. Your grass needs mowing, the shrubs trimmed and the beds edged and weeded. But I’m going to give you a break on this one. You’ve been pretty busy this past week and haven’t had much opportunity to take care of your yard. But I expect it done this afternoon and I expect you to wear your usual attire. Enjoy your day, Melanie.
Naked?! I’m going to mow and weed my yard naked? I can’t. I just can’t. I’ll get arrested! I was furious and scared. I couldn’t do this. In desperation I hit the “reply” button and typed furiously.
Levi, I can’t do my yard naked. Some religious fundamentalist or a local parent will call the cops. The cops will come and tell me to stop and then you’ll make me continue and then they’ll put a raincoat over me or something and take me to the police station and I can’t lie! I’ll tell them about you and Leviticus and I’ll lose my job and any self respect I have left and you guys will get in trouble, too. Please, please, please, Levi. Don’t make me do this!
I hit the send button and waited with my heart in my throat. After a couple minutes I got a reply.
Not a very literary response, Melanie, but you do have a point. To do your front yard only, you may wear the clothes dictated by me. You have no side yard except for a small strip and the shrubbery. To trim that and to do the back yard you must dress as usual. That is, not at all. When you write your “end of the day” post for your fans I think you should include a brief description of your property. It will help them picture your life in the nude.
You are to do your grocery shopping this morning as usual. You do it at Walmart so that will be a good time to pick up your yard clothes. You’ll buy a pair of thin white cotton shorts that are tight enough to show the delightfully named ‘camel toe.’ Before you bring them home you’ll cut them off short enough to show the bottom of your cheeks. For a top I want you to buy a t-shirt one size too large. Cut off the sleeves and cut a wide v-neck that reaches to the middle of your breasts. Cut off the bottom of the shirt two inches below the vee. You’ll have to do this in the car so don’t forget your scissors. When you get home put your yard clothes beside the garage door. They must never go in the house or garage. Also, no extra fasteners. No safety pins or such. To make up for the additional clothes that I’m so generously allowing you to wear you are to remain naked until you’re in the Walmart lot and naked after leaving the lot. You see, Melanie, I am looking out for you.
I read the two e-mails a second time and then I cried. I broke down and cried like a baby. I was never going to make it through this day. . I finally managed to compose myself and get some breakfast. I found the rules for attire while grocery shopping: “You may only wear three items, including shoes and jewelry.”
How many items were a pair of shoes? One? Two? The way Levi wrote the rule you’d think that two shoes were one item. On the other hand it could be a trick so that he could load another obscene rule on me. I played it safe. I chose a sun dress, not too long, and a pair of sandals. I found a pair of scissors and carried the items to my car.
When I raised the garage door a car with a family was driving by. I caught a glimpse of a girl in the back seat looking at me with bug eyes and her mouth open. She was tapping her dad on the shoulder and I ran for the car. I jumped in and slid down and fortunately the driver continued on. The father probably figured his daughter was seeing things. Naked people don’t stand in their garage for all the world to see. If he only knew.
On the naked drive to Walmart three different cars honked at me. I wondered what they must think. The drivers didn’t necessarily see that I was totally nude but they certainly knew I was topless. At any rate it was a three honk trip, a new record.
Levi said that I could dress (relative term) in the Walmart lot but didn’t say where. I drove to the far corner where there were no other cars and put my dress and sandals on and then made for a closer space. The sun dress wasn’t too bad. No stares or wolf whistles. I headed for women’s clothes and chose a pair of shorts and a too-large tee. I tried them on in the changing room but no luck with the shorts. No “camel toe.” The t-shirt was too big of course. I tried to picture it cut the way Levi wanted it and I almost started crying again. I would be flopping out of it with every movement. I got a smaller pair of shorts but couldn’t zip them. The best I could do was zip them about half way up. Just above my pubic hair. But they were tight enough to outline my labia and squeeze up into my vulva. This time I really did cry.
I completed my shopping, loaded my groceries in the car and returned to my secluded corner of the lot. There I hacked away at my new yard clothes. I cut away more material than I left. Then I stripped naked and drove home. It was a two honk drive.
I went through the usual routine getting my car in the garage. Once in the driveway I checked the street for traffic and pedestrians. When it was all clear I grabbed my yard clothes, threw them to the outside corner of the garage, raised the door and ran back for the car, the whole time praying that no one would show up. After pulling the car in the garage (frontwards) I did another check and lowered the door.
After getting the groceries in I made a quick lunch and then sat at the kitchen table screwing up the courage to continue my day. The really discouraging part was that I was going through all this torture and getting no closer to the end of my torment. I need a task. I dread a task. Shit! Enough whining. First sun screen. Lots of sun screen. Parts of my body were going to see the sun today that didn’t even know the sun existed.
Naked, I strode to the garage and raised the door. No one there. So far, so good. I got the lawn mower out and pushed it in front of my clothes. Until you try it you can’t understand the feeling of being naked and at any moment being discovered. My heart was always in my throat as I continually checked the street for traffic.
Crouching behind the minimal cover of the lawn mower I pulled on the shirt. Immediately my left boob was hanging out. I adjusted but every movement I made exposed one tit or the other or both. With my boobs finally arranged under what was left of my t-shirt I struggled into what was left of my shorts. I stood and wiggled them up to my crotch and with a final tug I went for the zipper. Giving it a good tug and a wiggle of my hips I managed to get it half way up while wincing from the loss of more than a few pubic hairs. I was so intent on my shorts that I forgot to continually scan for people. I looked up and there were two ladies on the other side of the street staring at me.
They were dressed for church and, I guess, decided to stroll home. One, the ugly one, started across the street toward me. The other one, the not so ugly one, grabbed her arm and said something to her. With that they continued down the street with a disgusted shake of their heads. I was getting to know that shake quite well.
Now that I was dressed (HA!) I primed the mower to start it. I tucked my boob back in and pulled the tope. A sputter and nothing. I tucked my other boob in and pulled again. Nothing. Another tuck and another pull and the mower came to life. Standing behind the mower I arranged my two tits and started pushing.
Apparently Levi thinks you should know what my property is like so here it is. I bought a big lot. Actually, it’s three lots, mine in the middle. The lots on both side are vacant and lightly wooded. The attached garage is on the left and there’s a narrow strip of grass on the right side. The front yard is about fifty feet wide and about thirty feet to the curb. No sidewalks. The back yard is about eighty feet wide and over a hundred feet deep. It takes me about an hour to mow the back and maybe fifteen minutes for the front.
Directly behind me live a retired couple, Martha and Herb Krasny. To their right lives a very stern looking lady of about sixty named Cora Tobin. And on the Krasny’s left live a young couple, Andrew and Molly Smith and there very cute three year old daughter named Grace. There’s not a lot of vegetation to protect me from the spying eyes of any of my back yard neighbors. The thought of spending an hour mowing my back yard bare naked terrified me.
But my current problem was the front. Being naked in public is embarrassing and humiliating. But dressed as I was while mowing the front yard I felt cheap. I felt like a whore on a street corner. I managed to keep my tits tucked in, but just barely. If a passerby paid attention I’m sure he would see most of my breasts and an occasional nipple. I wasn’t sure if these so-called clothes were going to keep me from being arrested. I had barely started mowing when I received my first honk, a guy with his mouth hanging open and a girl laughing. The humiliation I felt was unbearable. After two more traverses a young kid, maybe sixteen, walked by with his eyes glued on me. I gritted my teeth and stared straight ahead. I got two more honks and then the kid comes back from the direction he was going. He was watching me so intently that he stumbled on the curb and fell on his hands and knees. Embarrassed, he walked quickly on. One more honk and I was doing my final pass next to the curb.
The indefatigable boy was coming back and I’m sure he had a glorious view of all that I had to offer. He was staring at my crotch and when I checked it out I discovered that my zipper had come undone and there was a full view of my pubes. He couldn’t have been more that a couple feet away. With one hand I reached for the zipper and gave it a tug and lost some more hair. With that one of my boobs totally escaped. The kid stopped dead in his tracks and stared.
By now I was crying. I used both my hands to arranged my tits but my mower has one of those handles that shuts the motor off if you let go. I had three feet of lawn left and I knew I had to finish it. I pulled the rope and the mower restarted but all the moving around released both tits and the zipper came completely undone. With both breasts and my crotch exposed and with my shorts beginning to side down exposing the top half of my ass I pushed the mower as fast as I could past the kid to the drive and back to the garage. The boy was rooted to the spot, his eyes boring onto every nook and cranny of my body.
When I reached the garage I stripped my clothes off and threw them to the corner just outside the door. Naked, I ran into the house and collapsed on the kitchen floor, hysterical with shame and humiliation.
I probably laid there for a half hour or so, sobbing and feeling sorry for myself. Finally I got to my feet and made my way to the bathroom and had a glass of water. I stared at my naked self in the mirror. I’m an attractive girl. Boobs not too big or too small, slim waist in spite of what Levi thinks, a well trimmed patch (recently) and long well formed legs. My face on the other hand was a mess. My hair was a mess and my eyes were red and splotchy. I squared my shoulders and talked out loud to my reflection.
“Alright, Melanie, it’s time to stop being a baby and get this fucking yard work fucking done. So what if some pimply faced pervert saw your tits and pubes. Who cares if two ugly hypocrites saw you squeeze into your whore clothes. And so a few cars liked what they saw and honked. So fucking what! Now get your ass out there, put on your whore clothes and finish the yard.”
My pep talk, such as it was, worked. I strode out to the garage, got my trimming shears and weeder, walked to my rags and put them on. I didn’t look to see if people saw and I didn’t care. I trimmed the shrubbery in the front of the house and weeded the flower bed. The whole time I did it I was facing the house and couldn’t see if anyone was watching. When my tits fell out I tucked them back in. When my zipper fell down I sucked in my tummy and zipped it up. I got three more honks before I was done. I gathered up all my yard waste and deposited it in front of the garage. I couldn’t put it in the trash can because that was in the garage and my whore clothes weren’t allowed in the garage. Finally I stripped naked and finished the job. I grabbed the lawn mower and pushed it down the side off the house to the accompaniment of a last long toot of a car horn. Whoever it was got a very nice shot of my very cute and naked fanny.
I know this is a long post and as far as I’m concerned I don’t give a shit. Levi said to tell all and I’m telling all and there’s a lot left to tell. For you perverts who like to satisfy yourselves reading about my suffering you’re just going to have to take a break. I hope you all go blind.
I surveyed my back yard and contemplated spending the next hour pushing the lawn mower down and back in my altogether. From where I stood I could see all three houses behind mine and I imagined their occupants watching their crazy naked neighbor as she mowed.
Enough. It wasn’t going to get done if I never started it. Then I remembered the side strip of lawn. Shit! I started the mower and headed for the side of the house. It takes four passes to mow. I positioned myself for the first pass, screwed up my courage and began pushing toward the street, continually looking for passers-by. I got lucky. As far as I was aware I managed the side of the house without being seen.
Time for the back yard. Pushing the lawn mower toward the Krasny’s I never felt more naked and more on display. Maybe no one was looking. More likely my neighbors were watching me and trying to decide if I was a wanton slut or simply crazy. Or both. I managed several passes without incident. But then as I made my turn back toward the Krasny’s I saw Martha Krasny standing on her patio staring. I was walking toward her getting more and more nervous. She was looking right at me. What could I do. If I had clothes on like a normal person I would have smiled and waved. So that’s what I did. I smiled and waved. Wonder of wonders she smiled and waved back. Then she walked to meet me at the end of my pass. Great! Now I was going to have a naked conversation with my geriatric neighbor when all I wanted to do was finish mowing the fucking lawn. When we met she signaled for me to shut the mower off which I did. And then she started.
“Hi, Melanie. You remember me, don’t you? My name’s Martha. Herb and I live here,’ she said as she gestured over her shoulder toward the house. “We’ve never had a chance to really meet each other, have we, dear.”
She was running on as if she talked with naked people every day.
“I think it’s so wonderful how uninhibited you young people are today. I mean here you are mowing your lawn and you don’t have a stitch on. I said to Herb, ‘Herb, just look at our new neighbor. There she is, mowing the lawn and not a thing on.’ Well, of course, Herb had to see that, and he just had nothing to say. You must be a naturist or something. Is that what you call yourselves? Naturists? You must come over and visit sometime. Herb would love to see you, Oh,” she laughed, “I mean meet you of course. I mean he’s already SEEN you. Here I am, running on as usual and look, there’s Cora. Have you met Cora?”
I tried to get a word in edgewise but with no success. Martha grabbed my hand and pulled me along to meet Cora.
“Cora,” she rattled on. “You’ve met our neighbor, haven’t you? This is Melanie. She and I were just talking and I was telling her what a wonderful...”
“Shut up, Martha.”
Cora didn’t mince words. She turned her attention to me. Starting with my brown eyes her gaze slowly traveled down, pausing at my breasts and hard erect nipples, over my tummy that Levi seems to think needs tightening up, pausing again at my patch and finishing at my dirty grass stained feet. Her gaze came back up and she looked hard into my eyes.
“I hope your wearing sun screen,” she said. “You’re a very pretty girl. Thank you for adding a little excitement to our dull existence around here. I’m pleased to meet you. Stop in and see me some time. We’ll talk.”
With that she turned on her heel and walked to her house.
Cora can be a little abrupt at times,” said Martha. “She’s really very nice but you have to get to know her. Have you met the Smith’s? They’re nice, too. And they have such a pretty little girl. Why, just the other day I was...”
I interrupted saying that I had to finish tending to my yard. I said it was very nice to meet her and I hoped to see her again and blah, blah, blah.
As I started the mower. I thought to myself that it didn’t go anywhere near as badly as I expected. But then there was still the Smith’s.
Mowing was uneventful for the next twenty minutes or so. I was actually beginning to enjoy the feeling of being outdoors in the nude. I was almost done when I saw Molly Smith coming toward me with her daughter in tow. I knew it had to happen sooner or later so I was relieved to get it over with. I’d been mowing this lawn all summer and no one ever came out to meet me. Take my off my clothes and all of a sudden I’m Miss Popularity.
When we met I shut the mower down and smiled at Molly. She looked almost as embarrassed as I felt. She said hi and I said hi. There was an awkward silence and then Molly said, “This is Grace. She said she wanted to come out and meet you.”
I smiled at Grace and “Hello, Grace. I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Your naked,” was all she said in return.
“Yes, I guess I am,” I said. “Is that ok with you?”
“That’s ok. Why are you naked?”
Bold little thing. I should tell her I’m naked because of a warped pervert who’s making me do it. But I didn’t. Instead I said, “Oh, it’s such a beautiful day I thought that it might be fun to take my clothes off and mow the lawn.”
She looked intently at me and simply said, “Ok.”
I looked at Molly and she said, “Grace is very inquisitive and when she saw you she wanted to come out and ask about it. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind? I was happy you didn’t come out with a gun.
“Andrew’s playing golf today,” she continued. “It’s too bad he wasn’t here. He would have loved to see you.” She laughed. “Maybe next time,” she said. “Do you, uh, do this... I mean dress like this.. I mean not dress like this very often?”
“Well, actually, I do.”
All the goddam time if you want to know the truth.
“Maybe I’ll meet Andrew sometime if, you know, it’s ok with you. I mean, my not having anything on.”
Molly laughed again. She had a pretty laugh. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make sure he behaves.”
Somehow I had a feeling that she would do just that. We parted and as they walked back toward their house I heard Grace ask, “Can I take my clothes off too, Mommy?”
I finished the mowing, trimmed the shrubs and weeded the beds. My feet and knees were dirty and grass stained and required ten minutes of scrubbing. Then I spent fifteen minutes in the shower washing off the sweat and grime and humiliation. But my day wasn’t done. At 7 PM I was to do my exercises, in the nude and in my front window. First the unbelievably humiliating experience of doing the front yard dressed like a whore. Worse than a whore. Then a nerve wracking afternoon mowing my back yard in the nude and meeting all my neighbors. Neighbors that hardly knew that I existed until I showed up in my birthday suit. And now my stupid exercises. Fuck you, Levi!
For dinner I grilled some chicken that I ate on my patio. Let the neighbors gawk. Maybe Andrew was home from his golf game. It didn’t seem fair that he should be the only one that hadn’t seen my naked body yet. After dinner I prepared for my exercise with a stiff drink.
At seven I printed Levi’s exercise regimen and prepared to further humiliate myself. I stood back from the window about five feet. I was afraid that if I stood too far back I couldn’t be seen very well in which case Levi would find some way to make it worse. He’d have me exercising on the rooftop or some dumb thing.
The first exercise was five minutes of windmills. For those of you who missed PE in school, a windmill is an exercise where you stand with your legs spread and arms outstretched. You touch your right hand to left toe, straighten, and then left hand to right toe.
I started my windmills and every time I stood upright I’d check the window for an audience. My street isn’t heavily traveled with pedestrians. I was hoping those that did walk by either wouldn’t look in or that maybe the reflection on the window would obscure the view. I was about three minutes into my windmills when I was proven wrong. An older couple walked by on the opposite side of the street. The woman glanced my way and stopped dead in her tracks. She stared and grabbed her husband and brought his attention to the naked lady in the window. They both stared and then walked on with the familiar head shake of wonder and disgust.
I finished my five minutes of windmills and took a quick breather. Next up was running in place for five minutes. That meant bouncing boobs, the pervert’s dream. Three cars passed by but no one noticed. The fourth car screeched to a halt and the young male driver ogled intently for about a minute. He smiled, gave me a thumbs up and drove on. God, it was terrible. I might as well have been on display in a store window at the mall.
Another breather and then something called an eight count burpee. From a standing position I squat and with my hands on the floor kick my legs out to a push up position. Then I do two pushups, back to a squat and back to standing. Five minutes. Ha! After a minute I was so tired I didn’t care who was watching. After three minutes I was panting and the sweat was rolling off. When I had completed my five minutes, through the fog of exhaustion, I saw a girl on a bicycle watching me. So what? I put my hands on my knees and panted. When I looked again she was gone.
Next was five minutes was sit-ups. Not so bad. Most of the time I couldn’t be seen and when I could be seen just the top part of me was visible. Boobs on up. I struggled through about three minutes and didn’t pay any attention to the window. When I did look there was a kid just standing and staring. Shit! I knew which exercises were coming and if that kid remained he was going to see things he hadn’t even dreamed about. After my five minutes I laid flat and prayed. Please, God, make him leave. I sat up. No luck. He stood where he was and stared.
Next on Levi’s list was five minutes of jumping jacks. Five minutes of bouncing my boobs and spreading my legs. God help me. I jumped and jiggled and bounced. He stared. A drive-by slowed to see what was going on and he stared. After he hit the curb he got his car under control and continued on. For five minutes that boy saw me bouncing, jiggling and spreading. Stick around kid. It’s going to get better.
My last exercise was more windmills. With my back to the window. My pubescent audience was going to see my ass hole and my sex. Not once but every time I touched one toe or the other. Enjoy yourself, kid. At least I didn’t have to look at him.
When I was finished giving him the show of his life I turned and looked. He was still as a statue. I shrugged and left the room. In my bedroom I laid on my bed and had a good cry. Once recovered I checked and the little shit was still there. He’ll probably be there when I leave for work tomorrow.
That’s it, perverts. I imagine your right hand’s getting pretty tired. Or do you use your left?
End of part 1
Copyright© 2015 by MOF. All rights reserved. I welcome your comments. Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org