Changing Claire

For the second time in two days, Claire woke up naked, this time with a guy on top of her. She groaned lightly, and pushed him off of her. His eyes opened half way, and he smiled sleepily at the sight of her. "Mmm, hey."

"Hey," she whispered. She stretched out her muscles, feeling stress-free. Her body felt so good, and she wiggled it a little just to make sure it was real. She leaned down to kiss Russell on the shoulder. He stroked her thigh gently with his finger.

"What time is it?" he asked. Claire looked at the clock and pounced off the couch.

"Shit!" she yelled, searching the room for clothes.

"What's wrong?" Russell asked, alarmed, but she just gave him a desperate look before darting into Alicia's room.

"Hey!" Alicia cried out, throwing the blankets over her and Eli's bare bodies. Claire ignored her and ran for her closet, not even bothering to hide her nakedness from Eli. She grabbed the first clothes she could find and ran out, yelling a quick apology as her only explanation. She yanked on Alicia's red thong and matching bra. The underwear crept into her ass crack and the bra barely covered her nipples, but they would have to do. She pulled on the black mini skirt and red sweater before finding the pair of ankle boots she had borrowed for the party.

"Mmm, you look good," said Russell, watching her from the couch, where he had his swollen dick in his hand. "C'mere."

"I can't, I'm so late for class," she said breathlessly.

"Who schedules an early class for Monday?" he asked her, and she shot him a dirty look, running a comb through her knotted hair.

"Will I see you later?" she asked Russell, finally slowing down for a second.

"Definitely," he replied. "What class do you have now?"

"Trig," she groaned, realizing she never finished her paper. She scribbled her number down on a napkin and basically threw it at him, before giving him a quick peck on the cheek before flying out the door. She had thrown on a rather short skirt in her haste and could feel stares following her down the street as she sprinted to her class. She finally reached the building completely out of breath and 20 minutes late. She composed herself quickly before entering as quickly as possible, trying to yank the hemline of her skirt to a more respectable length.

"Miss Partridge," announced her Trig teacher, Mr. Black. He looked at her with an annoyed expression. Everyone knew Mr. Black didn't take any shit, and his class was one of the hardest at freshmen level. She gave him a breathless apology before finding an empty seat directly in front. People were staring at her as though seeing her for the first time. She hadn't had time to tame her hair into her usual braid, and she was showing off a lot more leg and cleavage than usual. Claire fell into a sleepy stupor within minutes, hoping the lecture would go quickly so she could get some sleep before her afternoon class. She began replaying hers and Russell's night together, giving herself goose bumps. It was a totally new feeling for her, but she had a creeping suspicion that Russell wasn't exactly inexperienced.

"Miss Partridge!" Claire nearly jumped out of her seat as Mr. Black quickly caught her attention again before continuing. When he was finally done, Claire waited for all the other students to leave before going to talk to him.

"Mr. Black," she said softly, "There were some things I didn't really understand on the paper you gave us on Friday, and I was hoping you could help me."

Mr. Black looked up cruelly, looking her up and down blatantly. She squirmed nervously. "Miss Partridge, I gave you two days to do the assignment. Maybe you should spend more time on your studies and less time prancing around like...well." He eyed her exposed cleavage hungrily.

Claire caught on immediately and turned bright red with anger. She forced herself to calm down before speaking. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Mr. Black. But I guess I'll try paying better attention." She turned to leave.

"Miss Partridge." Claire turned, ready to defend herself. "When that doesn't work out, feel free to see me." Mr. Black licked his lips. "I'll make sure you get what you need." Claire opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it before rushing out of the lecture hall.

The gray light outside hurt Claire's eyes, and god, she was exhausted. She groaned inwardly as she felt raindrops hit her and she dragged her feet down the campus sidewalk. By the time she got to her dorm room, she was soaked. She only had energy to strip off Alicia's wet clothes and flop onto her bed in just a robe. She had barely laid down when there was a knock on the door.

"You've got to be kidding me," she mumbled, throwing her blankets off and stomping over to the door. "What!?" she snapped, winging it open. On the other side was the RN. Her name was something Ping, or something ethnic, but everyone just called her Smiley because of her unwavering good attitude. The entire dorm hated her and her optimism, and Claire remembered feeling sorry for her when she first arrived, and now felt bad for snapping. "Oh, hi. I thought you were someone else."

Smiley looked a little shocked, but managed a weak grin. "It's okay," she said, graciously. She handed Claire a box. "This came in the mail for you, I just wanted to personally make sure you got it." Smiley beamed with pride in herself, and Claire took the package, hoping she could finally get some sleep. She thanked Smiley and was about to turn away when she was stopped by Smiley's hand.

"Claire, is everything okay?" she asked, and Claire found herself beginning to hate the RN just like everyone else. "You weren't here all weekend."

"Uh, yeah. I was visiting my cousin. He lives an hour away," Claire lied, and before Smiley could speak again she thanked her for the second time and shut the door.

Claire tossed the package on her floor, and flopped back into her bed. She was asleep in moments.

When Claire woke up, it was dark out. She moaned, realizing she'd missed all her afternoon classes, but decided it was better than falling asleep in class. She got out of bed, ready to go take a shower down the hall, and nearly tripped over the box that Smiley had delivered to her.

Curious, she brought it to her bed and opened it with a pair of scissors. Inside were two envelopes, one large one and one small. Claire searched for a return address, but found none. She'd been hoping for a care package from her parents, but was sure this wasn't from them. Taking the large envelope, she ripped it open, and gasped when she saw the contents.

Pictures showed her on the porch at the Saturday night party in a skin tight dress that barely concealed her body, Russell leaning over her, his hand beneath the hem of her dress, so that it was lifted, and you could see the bottom of her ass. His face was buried in her neck, and a look of sheer ecstasy was on her face, eyes shut, biting her bottom lip. There were five pictures with slight variations, but all showing Claire blatantly letting Russell finger her in public. Claire could barely recognize herself in such a sexual state, but the photos showed that it was, in fact, her, without a doubt. Fingers trembling, she opened the second envelope.

Claire,

I hope you had a nice weekend. From the looks of these photographs, I'm guessing you did. But how do you think the president of the university would receive these photos? How would he react when he saw one of his largest scholarship recipients whoring herself out on a porch in the middle of town? How would your loving parents feel about these?

You don't have to know how these people would react to this information, because it doesn't have to happen. All you have to do is go to the library, and look through the encyclopedias at exactly 9:45 p.m. And make sure you wear that little black number with the red sweater that you flaunted today. Don't disappoint me, Claire Partridge, or you will have many people disappointed in you.

Claire reread the photo and her blood seemed to go cold. She glanced at the clock and realized that if she was going to go to the library, she had to leave in five minutes. She didn't have time to wonder who would know all this about her, or who possibly could have taken the pictures of her and Russell. She jumped up immediately and yanked on the damp outfit she had worn earlier. The wet fabric clung to her body, making her squirm with discomfort. She took a deep breath, making sure to hide the photos and letter beneath her pillow, just in case, before rushing out the door.

She ignored the catcalls from a group of guys as she sprinted to the library, simultaneously throwing her blonde hair into a pony tail to call less attention to herself. She reached it out of breath, checking her phone to make sure she was on time. Five minutes left, and she realized she had four missed calls. Normally, she would have been crossing her fingers, praying they were from Russell, but she could barely think about them now.

Luckily the library was open all hours, but was deserted except for a snoozing old lady who was supposed to be monitoring all visitors. Claire signed in quickly, not bothering to wake her before hurrying to one of the back aisles that held the encyclopedias. She immediately saw another package, wondering briefly if it was safe to open. She would have told the librarian about a potential terrorist threat, but was worried the contents of the box would only bring her public humiliation and possible expulsion. Glancing around, she hurried over to it and began to tear at it with her nails, since she had no scissors. When she finally got it open she snatched the envelope out of it, reading it hastily.

Very good Claire.

Enclosed is an outfit I have generously purchased for. You will wear it from 7 o'clock tomorrow morning until midnight tomorrow night. You will not alter it in any way. Maybe you will learn your lesson about dressing like a tramp.

Oh, and be sure to make an arrangement with Jason Black. We wouldn't want your grades begin to slip and risk your precious scholarship.

Disobey, and needless to say, you will be sorry. Good night, Claire Partridge.

Claire immediately got goose bumps, and scooped up her package without opening the other enclosed shoe box. She had a feeling she didn't even want to know yet.

Her instinct told her that the blackmailer was Mr. Black. He was obviously a pig, and the way the letter used her full name struck familiar. Plus, he would have full knowledge of her scholarship. However, even being 90% sure that it was him didn't help her in the least. And what if she confronted him about it and was wrong? She would only be spreading the knowledge of her little rendezvous with Russell on the porch.

Tears sprang to her eyes. She should have never even been at that party, never been with Alicia or Russell in the first place. She had never done anything of a scandalous nature before, but now was being punished severely for one stupid night. She checked her phone and saw two calls from Russell and two from her parents, and was filled with guilt. She didn't have the energy to call either of them back, and just walked back to her room fighting back sobs.

Once she was back, she took off Alicia's clothes again, changing into sweats and a t-shirt. Looking in her mirror, she was comforted to see the Claire she recognized, the nerdy girl who loved to read and never went partying. Feeling a little better, she opened the shoe box and felt her heart sink.

Inside was a tiny plaid skirt that flared out at the bottom, a white, sheer button up shirt, a novelty bra that was designed to only cover the nipples, and black knee socks with matching tennis shoes. No panties were enclosed, but there was a picture of a blank face wearing pig tails, making her designated hairstyle clear.

Claire could no longer fight the sobs, and she threw down the clothes before falling to her bed, where she cried herself to sleep.

Her alarm clock went off early the next morning, and Claire rolled out of bed miserably. She hadn't had a shower in three days, and felt gross. She grabbed her outfit without looking at it, and hurried down to the showers.

The hot water felt good on her body, and she felt the strength rise in her that she was sure she would need for the day before her. She dried off and wrapped herself with a towel before appraising the outfit before her. Trying not to think, she hastily threw on the skirt, unsurprised to find it barely covered her ass. The novelty bra was next. Since Claire had relatively large breasts, her areolas were also big, and the tiny bra didn't cover them completely, no matter how she tried to adjust it. She finally gave up and put on the white shirt, which was completely see-through. She was mortified to see that her barely covered nipples were visible through it, as well as the joke of a bra. Luckily, her hair was long enough to cover some of her breasts, even in pigtails. She put on the socks and shoes as a finishing touch and didn't bother to look in the mirror before grabbing her trig material and a jacket and marching out the door.

Even with her coat covering the button up shirt, people stared at Claire as she walked to the lecture hall, trying to hold her head high. The cold air made everything beneath her skirt very alert, especially without panties.

She made it to the lecture hall without attracting too much attention. A lot of the girls here would dress scandalously, and the skirt was slutty, but without everyone seeing her top, it wasn't anything groundbreaking. Claire had a feeling that was about to change.

She took her usual seat in the front row of the lecture hall. Luckily, everyone was too busy socializing to notice her, and she took a deep breath before removing her jacket.

Mr. Black finally stood up, and scanned the hall. His eyes landed on her, and bugged out a little at the sight of her outfit. Claire rearranged her hair again so it hid her nipples better. Finally he tore his eyes off of her and cleared his throat.

"Turn to page 180," he said hoarsely, glancing up at her again. Claire opened her book, ignoring his stares, and gasped quietly when she found a note on the first page. It only had one sentence.

Claire, spread your legs, please.

Her face turned red. The impeccable manners in the letters only seemed to mock her. She knew that if she spread her legs, Mr. Black would get a front seat view of her uncovered pussy. She cursed herself for sitting in the front row, but at least her peers wouldn't see her. Biting her leg, she uncrossed her legs and spread them wide, feeling the cool air hit her swelling clit.

Mr. Black went to peek at her and immediately began to choke. Claire felt her face flush, but she kept her legs open. For the remainder of class, Mr. Black leered hungrily at her, and even came up and leaned his arms on her desk. She could smell his deodorant, he was so close, but she kept her composure, and her legs at their obtuse angle.

Mr. Black finally finished up, casually adding, "Miss Partridge could you see me for a moment, please."

Claire waited for everyone else to leave before she stood, relieved that nobody had seen her outfit. Mr. Black ignored her, writing something on a paper at his desk.

"Actually, Mr. Black," she said, as confidently as she could, "I was going to ask if we could discuss my paper further." Finally, Mr. Black looked up, taking in her exposed body. He stood slowly and sauntered over to her. Standing before him, Claire winced as he reached out, and tucked her hair behind her back. He stared greedily at her now-exposed breasts.

Claire took a step back. "I was, uh, hoping we could maybe go over. I didn't really understand..."

Mr. Black closed the distance between them, and without speaking, began to unbutton her shirt. Claire stood stiffly as he removed it from her shoulders, grinning evilly at her exposed areolas. "You have such big nipples," he said, making her blush. He snapped the bra off of her quickly, and before she could protest, tossed it in the trash. "Go put her hands against the bored," he ordered, "and keep your legs spread so I can smell that pussy of yours." She hesitated a moment too long, and his hand shot out, grabbing ahold of her nipple, yanking her over to the chalk board as if were a leash. He pushed her up against it and whispered in her ear. "Be a good girl, Miss Partridge, and do as I say."

Ignoring the stinging pain in her nipple, she assumed the position he requested, trying to see what he was doing out of her peripherals. She heard some rustling and finally he called her over. He had taken off his shirt and cleared his desk, where he was beckoning her over with a finger. She obeyed, feeling exposed without a shirt.

"Now, Miss Partridge, I want you to lay down on your back on my desk. I want you to hold on to a leg of the desk with both your hands, and then line your legs up with the other two legs, so you're perfectly spread out." He looked at her expectantly, and she slowly laid down, putting her arms behind her and spreading her legs. "I will tie you like this if I have to," he continued evilly, "and if I have to do that, then I might as well leave you there for the rest of the day. But I have a feeling a little slut like you would have no reason to not want to stay in this position." Claire gritted her teeth to stop herself from retaliating, and remained in his desired position.

He kept her like that for about five minutes, as though he was testing her, before he was satisfied enough to begin. To Claire's disgust, he started at her feet, removing her socks and shoes and using his pen to slide up and down her soles. It tickled, but Claire managed to stay still. She gagged as she felt his mouth envelope her big toe, his tongue caressing it, before moving to the next one. Once he'd had his way with all ten toes, he stopped, leaving Claire repulsed. She could feel his hands on her ankles, his fingers tickling their way up her calves. When his hands got to her thighs she couldn't help but moan a little as they kneaded her flesh.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he said huskily. "Tell me you're enjoying this."

"I'm enjoying this," Claire said, her voice cracking. She tried to focus as Mr. Black's hands roamed their way up her hips and now pushed and stretched any meat on her stomach to point that she gasped in pain, sure he'd left bruises.

To be continued...