Campus Walk Dare
Copyright© 2025 by zavgar
Chapter 3: Forbidden Feelings
Cold air hit her back, and behind her one of the girls let out a snort.
“Oh, Annie, we can see your whole back now - nice spine, by the way,” Mia called out. “Three clips left. Towel’s barely hanging on.”
The towel swung from three points now. The fabric kept slapping her spine whenever a gust came through. Loose. Unreliable. It had already decided to leave - the rest was just timing.
“Don’t stop.” Sara yanked her forward. “One clip. That’s nothing. You’re not bailing over one clip.”
“Want to hear something fun?” Sara dropped her voice low. “The bushes are gone. Nothing between you and the open quad. Want to guess who might be watching? Dorm windows are right there. And there’s a guy with a lawnmower on the far side of the field - but hey, you can’t look, so who knows.”
Goosebumps broke out down Anna’s arms - and not from cold this time. She made a grab for the towel. Too slow - Sara already had her wrist and wrenched her forward.
“Walk. Maybe nobody’s paying attention.” Sara kept dragging her along the cracked path. “Or maybe everybody is. You’ll never know. We can see just fine, though.”
Eyes on her back. She couldn’t stop picturing it - people she knew, smirking, nudging each other, phones already out. Her stomach went tight. But underneath the dread something else sat, lower, a pull right between her hips. She shoved the thought down. Didn’t work. Her pussy clenched anyway - one hard involuntary squeeze - and the heat hit her face before she could stop it. Her head said no. Everything below her waist disagreed.
Anna’s bare foot went straight into an ice-cold puddle. She jerked - from the shock of it, and from a spike of something warm that had no business being there. Teeth into her lower lip, hard. Metal taste. She tried to think about anything else. Thursday’s exam. The bread she forgot to buy yesterday. Useless. Her nipples were scraping against the terry cloth with every step and she could feel each one.
Sara stopped walking. “Halt!”
Anna’s toes found spongy ground - wet earth, no gravel. She curled them into it.
“No more stones,” Sara said. “See? Walking barefoot isn’t so bad.”
“Those cheeks though - awfully pink. And I don’t mean the ones up here.” Sara tapped her own face.
“I’m cold.” The words came out harder than Anna meant them to. “I’m wet, I’m standing on a path in a towel. What do you expect.”
“Cold.” Sara said it slowly, tasting the word. “Sure. And your nipples - those are from the cold too, right?”
“Stop.”
“You’re panting. Like you just sprinted the whole field. You’ve gone maybe ten feet.”
“I’m scared!” It came out cracked, too loud. “That’s all it is.”
“Uh-huh. And the red blotches all over your neck and chest?” Sara walked a slow circle around her - like someone examining a piece of furniture they were thinking about buying. “That happens when a person is turned on. I think you like this, Annie. My little exhibitionist.”
“I do not like this!” Anna stepped back and her heel caught something - she nearly went down, arms spinning. “This is vile. It’s -”
“Tell that to your nipples, Annie.”
“Shut up.” “Annie.” “Shut up!” She slammed her bare foot down against the dirt. “Just take the blindfold off already.”
“One second. I will. But first - “ A zipper ripped open on the bag. “ - let’s fix that whole ‘disgusted’ problem. Let’s make it feel good instead.”
Anna went stiff. Sounds below her - rustling, movement. Sara was already crouching, right there in front of her. Hot breath on Anna’s stomach - she tried to jerk away but a hand caught her hip, hard, and shoved her thighs apart.
“Stay still. Move and the towel drops.”
Fingers slid under the towel’s hem. Anna flinched at the touch - cool, deliberate, all wrong - and then something was already inside her, and something else pressed smooth and flat right against her clit. The whole thing took maybe two seconds.
Anna locked up. Her brain hadn’t caught up yet. But then a low, steady hum started - vibration drilling straight through her, sharp as a current - and all the blood in her body rushed to her head at once. She shook. Pulse in her temples. In her throat. Everywhere.
“Sara - what the hell are you doing?” Barely a whisper. Between her legs the throb was getting worse every second. Her pussy kept tightening around the thing inside her - she couldn’t make it stop.
Sara straightened up. Pulled the knot loose behind Anna’s head.
Light flooded in - too bright, blinding. When it cleared, Sara’s face was right there. Satisfied and smug.
“You’re welcome,” Sara said, looking Anna over - the flushed skin, the heaving chest. “Soft grass from here. Easy walk. Nice and pleasant. Go on - step.”
Anna put her foot down and her bare sole pressed into cool, damp grass. The vibrator shifted with the motion - the part inside her rocked forward while the flat head ground against her clit from a new angle. Anna stumbled. She caught herself, took another step, and regretted it immediately. Each stride rolled her hips just enough. The smooth plastic shifted against her slick folds, found some new nerve ending, and heat flared up through her belly before she could brace for it.
Nails into her palms. Wrong. All wrong. She was half-naked, barefoot in the grass, wearing nothing but a towel held on by three clips, and this vile thing was buzzing right against her pussy while people - actual people - walked past her on every side. Eyes everywhere. She could feel them on her bare shoulders. On her legs. On the towel that barely reached mid-thigh.
She wanted to disappear. She wanted to rip the thing out and run. God - what if the towel slipped? What if someone could hear the faint buzz between her legs?
But the harder she fought the feeling, the more her lower belly pulsed, the wetter she got. The shame wasn’t killing the arousal. It was feeding it. Anna knew this with a horror that sat like a stone in her chest.
This wasn’t her. She knew who she was and this wasn’t it. But between her legs it was hot and slick and her labia had swollen tight around the vibrator. And she kept walking anyway.
Shorter steps - she tried that. Tiny, mincing. Worse. Much worse. Her thighs pressed together with each one, and every motion ground the vibrator into her swelling clit. Her bare soles sank into wet grass and even that was too much - just the cold, just the softness of the ground against her feet. Everything was too much.
Sara walked alongside, watching the way you watch something you built. Sharp eyes. That half-smile she got when things were going exactly to plan. She’d noticed the breathing - faster now, shallow - and the shoulders locked up rigid. Anna kept going. Her steps weren’t even anymore. Ragged. Stumbling.
“Something wrong, Annie?” Sara got close - that syrupy concerned voice she put on. “You’re trembling all over. Cold, maybe?”
Nothing. Anna had nothing to say. Couldn’t get a word past her teeth.
Sara grinned wider and grabbed Anna’s shoulder, steering her left.
“This way.” She nodded toward the path where students were pouring toward the lecture hall. “More eyeballs over there.”
Anna turned where she was pointed, legs tangling, breath coming in short pulls now. Her mouth felt wrong - lips thick, blood-hot. Every step kicked heat deep into her belly. Every kick made her pussy clench harder around the vibrator, squeezing it, working against herself.
“Those faces.” Sara nodded at a couple passing them. “What do you think is going through their heads right now? Looking at you, like that?”
Anna’s whole body jerked. Both of them - some guy, his girlfriend - just looking. Not even trying to be subtle about it. Her hands flew up - chest, stomach, she didn’t even know what she was trying to hide. Sara caught her wrist before her hand got halfway.
“No covering up. Let them look.”
Anna’s ribcage heaved. Sara pushed her closer to the crowd, hand firm on her shoulder. “See them staring?” Sara’s mouth was at her ear now, breath hot. “They know there’s nothing under that towel. They’re looking right at your nipples.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Her knees went. Sara grabbed her before she dropped.
“Eyes open, Annie. Smile.” Sara dug her fingers into Anna’s shoulder.
A cluster of students had stopped to watch. Their eyes ran over her - bare feet, bare shoulders, the towel clinging to her chest by a few clips.
“Look at them,” Sara whispered, turning Anna’s chin. “Don’t you dare look away. Let them see how much you love it - walking around campus barefoot, in nothing but a towel, like this is your normal Tuesday.”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.