"I'm not taking my clothes off!" II

OOC: Closed thread. This is a new iteration of a storyline that I played a few years ago.

We've all heard that the more often a lie is repeated, the more people believe it.

Imagine what it would be like if that lie is about you, and now everyone, including all your friends, expects you to do something totally embarrassing.


Jenny doesn't have to imagine. She's been chosen by lottery to be one of the "slaves" at Emancipation Day, the huge post-graduation party thrown every year by and for the outgoing high school senior class.

Normally, this is not a problem: Although the slaves have to be "gofers" for everyone else all day long and take a lot of good-natured ribbing, it's all part of the fun. The slaves are even given their own party the next day to make up for what they've missed.

Except that someone has started a rumor that Jenny is going to revive a tradition that everyone has heard stories about but which has probably never actually happened...and serve her stint as a slave stark naked.

I'll be playing Brock Johnson and probably a number of NPC's who make brief appearances, since this thread is essentially about peer pressure.

I'm hoping to take the thread through the Emancipation Day party and perhaps further as we explore the age-old questions:

Does your life change because all of your friends suddenly know what you look like naked?

Will you ever be able to look your friends in the eye again?

Will your friends be looking at your eyes?

And, if you get naked once, do people suddenly expect that it will be a regular thing...?

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Jenny had a problem: She was beginning to dread something that she should have been looking forward to.

Damn Brock Johnson, anyway!

Hardly anyone knew the exact membership of the Students' Council - as opposed to the elected Student Council that served as a liason between students and the faculty, as at most schools - because membership was passed down in semi-secrecy each year from the outgoing members to a select group of kids in what would be the new senior class in September. Not that it was some dark secret society or anything - the Students' Council's only purpose was the planning and execution of Emancipation Day. But most of the students on the Council liked the air of mystery and exclusivity and tried to be secretive about whether they belonged, or exactly what the Council was planning for the big party.



One member who everyone was sure of was Brock Johnson. He was just too popular to care about being cagey, not that everyone wouldn't have guessed that someone with his status was a member, anyway. Council membership didn't go to freaks and geeks.

So, even though Jenny didn't know Brock that well, she wasn't too surprised when one day in the hall, after last period, he came up to her and said something about the Council. She was quite surprised, though, when he told her that she had been one of fifteen students whose names had been drawn in the lottery to be slaves.

She nearly exclaimed "Get out of town!" in disbelief, thinking of all the stories she'd heard about slaves wearing brightly colored armbands, or pins, or whatever (it varied from year to year), being ordered around and kidded by their friends but also managing to be in the middle of all the best parts of the party...and, of course, the "Lincoln" party that the slaves were given the next day.

Excited, she'd stammered her acceptance to Brock as some other students stood nearby.

Then it happened. Brock had congratulated her, then on a whim, or for whatever reason, he'd looked around at the other kids within earshot, perhaps ten or so, and said "Yeah, Jenny's gonna be a bareslave!"

And the next thing Jenny knew, cheers and applause were echoing off the hallway lockers.


A bareslave! It was a myth! A fucking urban legend!

Everybody had heard the stories about some slaves - both male and female - being dared to serve in the buff. And supposedly, one year in the 1960's, every single slave had been a bareslave.

Except that everyone always knew someone, who knew someone, who knew someone who'd been there when. You never talked to anybody who'd actually been there, let alone been bare.

It had never happened!!!


But Brock Johnson had said it. And when she'd started sputtering denial he'd smiled and said, "She's too shy to admit it", and walked off with a cheery "Be seeing you, Jenny!"

And despite the fact that she'd stood as tall as she could and yelled "I'm not taking my clothes off!" to his disappearing back and to everyone in the East Wing, it seemed like "Be seeing you, Jenny" was all she'd been hearing for the past week. Even from her friends.

The more she denied any intention of stripping for anyone, let alone the whole Senior class, the more they all laughed, agreed...and told her how cool it was.


Jenny closed her locker and resisted an urge to bang her head against it. They'd all see in two days, anyway. She was going to be at the party and enjoy the heck out of it. She was going to be as good a sport and as great a slave as anyone had ever been. And she wasn't going to take off so much as a hair ribbon!!


She sighed and turned to look down the hall toward the South Wing. Graduation was tomorrow, right now it was time to get to her last day of meaningless classes.

No, wait a second, there was her best friend Shiela, coming down the hall with Cindy, another friend.

At least she'd get some sense and sympathy out of Shiela.

Jenny


Jenny had always been quite well-known and popular at her school. Much more than she herself realized, in fact.

Part of the reason was obviously that she was definitely one of the better looking girls at the senior class. Not in a way that would make it too obvious or over-the-top, mind you - Jenny always wore light make-up, just enough to bring out the natural beauty of her pretty blue eyes and luscious lips. Her long blonde hair she tended to simply keep open, with no fancy ornaments or hair-dos. She was quite short and petite, but still had nice curves in all the right places - curves which were complimented by the way she liked to dress: tight jeans, form-fitting tops and the like, always classy and never too sleazy, but still always something that made her look good and looked good on her.

The biggest reason of Jenny's popularity, however, was simply the fact that she was so darn likeable. Jenny never begged for attention or hung out with popular cliques. Instead, she was always approachable, always nice to everyone, always the first to greet a new student with a smile and her heartwarming laugh. Jenny wasn't popular in the way that would bring her too much attention, and indeed not in the way that would have earned her a seat in the Students' Council; but even so most students in the school knew who she was and liked her. She was the girl-next-door you just couldn't help but like.



As the semester drew to a close, it seemed like all anyone was talking about was Emancipation Day. For good reason, too! It'd be the party of parties, something everyone learned to look forward to from the very first day they set foot in the school. Stories of the past years' Emancipation Day parties were legendary. And theirs was just a few short weeks away!

Everyone was busy trying to guess who all were in the Students' Council ("I swear I saw Kyle and Jacob sneak in the empty chemistry lab! I bet that was a secret meeting in there!"), what the party program would include ("Last year they hired a world-class DJ! Maybe this year it'll be a live rock band!"), and, most importantly, who all would be chosen to be the slaves.

"I mean, I'd love to get in the Lincoln party, don't get me wrong", one of Jenny's friends had said, "but having everyone boss you around in the actual party? I get enough of that when I do my shifts at the diner! At least there I get some good tips!" Most students seemed to agree with her: yeah, being a slave would be an honor and all, and it'd score you a second party in a row, but in the end the slaves would simply be working without pay while everyone else was having all the fun.

Jenny didn't mind that so much, though. Actually, to her own amazement she realized that she secretly wished she would be chosen as a slave - and not just because of the Lincoln party, but because the very idea of being a slave at the party was fun to her.

In her mind, the slaves were not just workers or staff: Slaves were the stars of the show. After years of being just the "nice girl", always on the sidelines, perhaps it would be nice to have some of the spotlight on herself for a change? Jenny would never admit these feelings to anyone else - in fact, she could barely admit them to herself - but really, who doesn't want to be the star of the biggest show of them all? It's a once-in-a-lifetime occasion!



So, when Brock Johnson came up to Jenny and told her her name had been drawn, Jenny was delighted and eager to accept.

But when Brock turned around and announced to everyone else she would not be just a slave, but a bareslave... she was far less delighted, and definitely less eager.

The following week, Jenny had all the spotlight she could ever have wanted, and then some.

At first no one really took the rumors seriously. After all, bareslaves weren't REALLY a thing... were they? And Jenny? She was way too nice and classy to do something like that!

Even so, everyone definitely loved to tease Jenny about it. Guys and girls alike, they would openly check her out, look her up and down as if already picturing her without her clothes on, and then leave with some sort of a tacky line.

"Yup, can't wait to see what's underneath!"
"Looks like christmas will come in September this year!"
"Be seeing you!"​

And without fail, Jenny would flush and scream "I'm not taking my clothes off!", which would only make the others laugh and encourage them to do it over and over again.

That was just the beginning. The more people repeated the rumor, the more they started to actually believe in it. What had once been a joke they would tell to each other or use to tease Jenny, was fast becoming a reality in people's minds. Some people would claim it's happening for sure, others would still be doubtful... but nevertheless they were eager to be proved wrong.

Before the week was over, the number one topic around the senior class was no longer the party program or Council composition. No, the number one topic was whether or not Jenny would really serve in the buff.

Yup, Jenny indeed had all the spotlight she could ever have wanted.



"Shiela, Cindy", Jenny cried as her friends approached her in the hallway. "Am I glad to see some sensible people for a change. I can't wait for this week to be over!"

Spotting Jenny, Sheila and Cindy both shrieked and rushed over to her. "Oh my God, I can't believe you're doing it!" Sheila exclaimed. "Cindy, can you believe she's doing it?!"

"Jenny gone wild!" Cindy exclaimed, slipping behind Jenny and reaching in front of her to pantomime lifting her shirt as though she were doing a Spring Break-style flash. "Whooo!!!"

Meanwhile, Sheila's breathless torrent had barely slowed. "I would be freaking! The fuck! Out!" she declared. "Everybody, I mean all the guys seeing your boobs and your - "

"But not you! she continued. "You're not afraid of anything!"

"My best friend! Jenny, the Warrior Princess! Whooo!" Shelia and Cindy high-fived each other over Jenny's head.

"Hey!" Cindy piped up. "We've gotta get to class!"

Her friends caught Jenny in a quick three-way hug. "You," Sheila told Jenny, taking her hands and looking into her eyes, "have got it going on. I can't wait to see you make everybody's jaws drop. And you will."

Sheila and Cindy turned and started down the hall, heading for their final biology class. "Be seeing you, Jenny!" they called, looking back and waving. Then they turned the corner and were gone.

Jenny was absolutely stunned at her friends' reaction. She couldn't get a word in - Sheila could talk *really* fast when she got excited, and Cindy didn't do a bad job at it herself - and instead simply stood there, her mouth open in shock and amazement. They were not teasing or joking. Her best friends were absolutely convinced she was going to serve naked in the party.

"Be seeing you, Jenny!"

Their parting words woke Jenny up from her daze. Flushed deep-red, she looked after them.

"I'm not taking...!" she yelled, but the girls were already gone. Furious and embarrassed, Jenny ignored the chuckling and whistling students who had witnessed this little performance of theirs and stormed in the opposite direction, towards her final math class.

Were they for real? Did they seriously think she was going to do it? Be a bareslave - serve naked - at the biggest party of them all? How could anyone think she was seriously going to do it? Least of all her closest friends, the few people whom Jenny had counted on to definitely be on her side in this! And on top of that, instead of trying to talk her out of it... they were apparently loving the idea! Were they for real???

They were loving the idea. The words of her friends came back to Jenny's mind when as she was dashing down the hallway.

Jenny, the Warrior Princess!
You have got it going on!

Jenny hated to admit to herself, but in a weird way, it did felt good to be admired and complimented like that. Her friends actually seemed genuinely impressed with her. That was so weird. What would it be like if I actually did it... I bet no one would expect that, huh? Jenny entertained the thought for just a split second before she instantly threw the it out of her mind, blushing once again. No way. Never. Her friends would just have to be disappointed, along with everyone else.

She was NOT taking her clothes off.

It was that kind of day. With these final classes essentially being social periods, no one was sweating over anything. As Jenny walked into the room, half the class was standing around, talking, and Mr Thompson, their math teacher, wasn't even there yet.

Her classmates' casual indifference vanished, though, as soon as she was seen. Instead of the unremarked entrance she'd hoped to make, all eyes turned to her; there was a smattering of applause and a few cheers were heard.

What really horrified her, though, was the "equation" written in huge letters on the blackboard at the front of the class: Jenny - wardrobe = <3!

It seemed like it was the day of surprises and blushing for Jenny. She had thought it wasn't possible to get any redder than she had been back in the hallway when her friends had surrounded and embarrassed her, but standing there in the doorway, deep-red, staring at the "equation" on the blackboard, she definitely proved herself wrong in that regard.

Absolutely furious, Jenny ran to the blackboard and cleaned it as fast as she could. As soon as she was done, she turned around and faced the class, shaking the sponge still in her hand.

"Are you all insane?" She cried. "I am NOT.... urrrrrgh!" Jenny cut off when she realized no one was paying attention to her words - they were all way too busy laughing and cheering. With a mighty groan, Jenny strode to an empty seat at the back corner.

Idiots. They'd be disappointed. They'd see. She was NOT taking her clothes off.

"Hey, I hear you're a slave!"

Jenny, back in the hall, turned to face the speaker. She'd recognized the voice, and turning around only confirmed it: Mr Braswell, the English teacher whose Creative Writing class she'd taken as an elective. Only in his mid-twenties and not so far from his own graduation, he tended to let the kids call him Mark when other faculty members weren't around.

It wasn't surprising that he knew about Emancipation Day; although the event was students-only and as many details were kept secret as the Students' Council could manage, the party was part of the fabric of high school life in the community.

"I was, too," Mark continued, regarding Jenny with an open smile and nothing arch in his manner. If he was privy to the details of Jenny's proposed servitude, he was doing an incredibly good job of hiding it.

"It was arm bands that year: yellow for guys and purple for girls. Don't ask me why they chose those colors - I don't think they went particularly well with most people's outfits, but at least it was easy to tell who was a slave and who wasn't. Boy, I spent a lot of time on my feet that day, getting drinks and sandwiches! It seemed like it was mostly the girls calling for me, too. And the opposite for the girl slaves, of course: The guys definitely enjoyed having them at their beck and call."

"I wonder what you'll be wearing this year?"

Jenny flinched at Mr. Braswell's last words. Was he teasing her as well? Wasn't this enough for one day?

"I'll be wearing something perfectly normal", she snapped back, and instantly realized that she was most likely barking up the wrong tree. This was Mr Braswell, one of her nicest teachers, who was just trying to make conversation with her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. It's been a long week," she apologized with a sigh. "I don't know what it'll be, it's different every year, isn't it?"

Jenny studied him for a short while. Mr Braswell had been at the school for a while, including his time as a student in the same place. He obviously knew about the Emancipation Day and what it involved. Right now Jenny could use some reassurance. She needed to know that she would have a good time at the party - with all of her clothes intact.

"Umm, you said you were a slave too? Can I ask you how it was? Did you have fun? What happened at your party?" She hesitated for a second, then went on: "Do you know the stories about... bareslaves? Has anyone actually done that before?" She faked a laugh, as if she was asking something totally ridiculous that had absolutely nothing at all to do with Jenny.

Which was actually true, of course. It WAS actually ridiculous. She was definitely not considering doing it. Not for real.

"Bare-? Mr. Braswell paused for half a second, then burst out laughing, his knees starting to buckle until he had to put a hand against the wall to get his balance back.

"Oh, geez, Jenny! That rumor goes around every year! 'Ooh, this year, half the slaves are gonna be bareslaves, like in the sixties!' And my dad swears that it did happen back in the Sixties - the year after he graduated and shipped out to Vietnam. Somehow, I'm not so sure."

He paused again, then went on. "Actually, I did see something sort of like that. The year I graduated, my friends Tony and Rick were slaves, too - and they showed up wearing nothing above the waist but suspenders! They were like, 'Yeah, we're the bareslaves!' and everybody was like, 'Okay!' They were both into working out, so they looked pretty good that way - I think the arm bands even looked good on them - and they were definitely the most popular slaves! Boy, at first I thought I was in demand... Once they showed up, it definitely took some of the pressure off me."

Mr. Braswell leaned in a bit and lowered his voice. "The rumor is that about half a dozen girls commandeered them that night for a little private get-together... I can tell you that they were wrecked the next day at the Lincoln Party! Just the price of fame, I guess."

He shrugged, then straightened up. "Don't let crazy rumors freak you out. I had a great time, even with my shirt on. I mean, I took a lot of 'Come here, slave boy' stuff, but it was all in fun, and afterwards my friends were all thanking me. Plus there was the Lincoln Party the day after."

"Although, when I saw the shape that Tony and Mark were in, I was sort of wishing I'd had the build to take my shirt off! Hah!" Mr Braswell smiled just a little ruefully, then shook his head as though to dispel a persistent image.

"Anyway, I've got another class to get to, and so do you. So, just remember - Have fun, and no suspenders! It's the wrong look for you!" He waved a cheerful goodbye. "Be seeing you, Jenny!"

Jenny laughed at his last comment.

"Definitely no suspenders!" she grinned and waved goodbye. Seeing Mr. Braswell reaction to the bareslave rumor had definitely improved her mood and helped her relax again. Of course, it was just a simple rumor. She could live with it. Surely no one really expected to see any real bareslaving action!

And, you know, she could always just do something like those two friends of Mr. Braswell's did - wear shorts and a sports top, or maybe like a bikini, and claim "yup! I'm the bareslave" - that should be more than good enough, and she would be the famous one everyone would remember, just like those two boys Mr. Braswell had told about!

...wait, what? WHAT was she thinking? Jenny shrugged off the thought. Where did THAT thought come from? She was not doing any kind of bareslaving! She would enjoy herself just like everyone else, and that was that! Screw their stupid rumors!

And yet, as the bell called Jenny to her next class, she found herself wondering what it would feel like to be the most popular slave, like Tony and Rick had apparently been that year.

Kyle

Kyle sat in his meaningless class, bored as hell. Almost everything bored Kyle, anyway, and most of the time, he had the attitude to prove it.

He mostly wasn't like that with Jenny, though. For some reason, despite Jenny's lack of interest in things Gothic, the two of them had formed an unlikely friendship. In fact, Kyle was probably Jenny's best guy friend. It probably helped that he'd shown no interest in dating her; not treating her as aesexual, but as though sexuality didn't matter between the two of them.

Despite what many might have assumed, Kyle's disappointment at not being chosen as a slave was rather keen: He'd been looking forward to a whole day's worth of experiences to be indifferent to.

Thinking about it just then, as congratulations and farewells swirled around him like a giddy stream around a dark rock, he pulled out his phone and sent Jenny a text: Hear u got picked. No luv 4 me U Rock the look!