Perfect Streak Page 6

  “What'ddaya mean not there?!” was Hildy’s instant response.

  Vicky just shrugged.

  “They’ve gotta be there!” hollered Susan.

  “That’s where we left ‘em!” added Cindy.

  "And the door was locked!" Hildy bellowed.

  “I want my clothes!” whimpered Dara.

  “Where, specifically, are they in the room?” the provost demanded of the streakers.

  “Right on top of the desk and a couple of tables!” stated Hildy. “Ya can’t miss ‘em!”

  Dr. Z turned to Vicky. “Did you look carefully?”

  “I looked.” Vicky’s expression was the very picture of innocence.

  Dr. Z turned back to the naked girls. “Are you sure it was Ms. Pantaget’s room? The art room?”

  “Yeah!” Hildy assured.

  Dr. Z put an exasperated hand to her head and huffed a heavy breath. “Mrs. Ross,” she said, “you go with her this time and see if you can help find them.”

  Mrs. Ross wasted no time and headed for the door. Vicky was right behind.

  “It’s the art room,” Dr. Z called after them as they exited. “Room 118. They’ve gotta be there.”

  “I’m pretty sure they’re not,” Vicky shouted back.

  * * * *

  Actually, Vicky was more than just “pretty sure.” She was absolutely positive no clothes were in the art classroom. The moment she left the office the first time, she had her cell phone out and dialed her friend, Brandi Higginbothom. Brandi was a stoner, and Vicky knew she could count on her friend to be outside smoking some weed on a day when there was a general assembly.

  “Whassup, Vicky?” was how Brandi answered the call.

  “Meet me outside the windows of the art room. Right away.”

  “Hey, did ya know there was a naked girl runnin’ ‘round?”

  “Yeah, I know. Just hurry and get to outside the art room.”

  Vicky arrived at Ms. Pantaget’s room and keyed in. As soon as she entered, she saw four sets of girls’ clothing—two piles neatly arranged atop the professor’s desk and two other piles on separate sketch tables. It was almost cute how ordered the sequence of stacking was—panties, bra, pants, blouse. The shoes rested on the floor right beneath the individual piles. Vicky locked the door behind her and moved right to each of the piles, scooping them up and creating one large pile of clothing. The shoes she stacked on the top. Then she took it all over to the windows. Vicky grinned as she thought to herself that she was holding in her arms every stitch of clothing the naked girls had on campus.

  She placed the pile on top of a window-side ledge and popped open the shade that had been drawn all the way down. Outside the window, she saw Brandi trotting in her direction across the grass. Vicky unlocked the window and opened it to its full extension.

  “What’s goin’ on?” asked Brandi from right outside.

  “Take these.” Vicky passed the big pile of clothing out the window and into Brandi’s arms. “And hide ‘em in the bushes by the gym.”

  “Hey, are these that girl’s clothes?” inquired Brandi as she began to put two and two together.

  “Four girls.”

  “There’s four of ‘em?”

  “Yeah. They’re in Dr. Z’s office. Bury these where no one’s gonna find ‘em.”

  “How are they gonna get home without their clothes?”

  “Hey, if they wanted to wear clothes, they shoulda kept ‘em on,” smirked Vicky.

  It was clear to Vicky that, even within the fog induced haze of the marijuana her friend had just smoked, Brandi understood the plan. Brandi gave a grinning nod and took the pile of clothing from Vicki, who watched the girl scamper off toward the gymnasium. There were bushes and some ivy growing there. Once Brandi dunked the clothes into the ivy, Vicky knew nothing would be showing from above. No one was going to find the girls’ clothes there.

  * * * *

  Back in the provost’s office, Dr. Z waited for Mrs. Ross and Vicky to return from the second search of the art room. She was past the point of mere impatience.

  “I don’t suppose any of you have a coat in your lockers?” she asked the reluctant nudists.

  The girls shook their heads. It was an extra warm day in May, there was no rain in the forecast, and no one at school that day had bothered to bring a coat or sweater.

  Mrs. Ross returned with Vicky in tow. The secretary just gave a big shrug, and the quizzical expression on her face indicated the girls’ clothing was not to be found in the art room.

  “We checked the rooms on either side, too,” said Mrs. Ross. “Just to be sure.”

  Dr. Z tilted her head back and slapped her hands at her sides.

  Hildy was flabbergasted. It was obvious the other naked girls were too—so much so that it took several seconds before Susan realized that Vicky had once again left the door wide open for the delighted viewing public on its other side.

  “Door!” Susan complained.

  Vicky acted as though she hadn’t realized what she had done. She indicated she would close the door and then began to saunter in that direction, in no particular hurry to accomplish the task. That’s when the cops arrived.

  V It’s Worse If They Know

  Hildy’s heart sank when she saw two young, male, uniformed police officers enter the room. The moment they walked through the door, their eyes locked on the four naked girls huddled on the bench.

  “I guess I don’t have to ask who the perpetrators are,” smiled a stout, black haired officer who was the first to enter the room.

  “They seem to have misplaced their clothes,” was Dr. Z’s exasperated remark. “Can’t find ‘em anywhere.”

  “Got anything they can put on?” asked the first officer.

  “Not really,” responded the provost. “Do you?”

  “Our standard issue doesn’t usually include a wardrobe for four,” said the second officer.

  “Call maintenance,” Dr. Z instructed Mrs. Ross. “See if they’ve got some kinda covering we can use.”

  At the moment, Hildy would have been content to wrap herself in a dirty drop cloth—anything that would bring a stop to this extended nudie show.

  “No answer,” Mrs. Ross reported, holding the phone receiver to her ear.

  “Where the fu—!” It was as close as Hildy, or anyone, as far as she knew, had ever heard Dr. Zabrinski come to uttering a curse word. “Where the hell is the maintenance staff?”

  What none of them knew at the time, but Hildy learned later, was that the entire maintenance staff was then occupied listening to a tale being told by Mr. Pressley about a naked girl he found outside the building. The staff’s rapt attention to the story meant, for the time being, no one was picking up the phone in the maintenance office.

  Hildy saw the fuming provost bite her lip.

  “Well, we’ve got to get them the hell outta here.” With a look of urgency, Dr. Z turned to the cops. “I need to restore order to this school. And I can’t do that while there’s four naked girls on campus. You can see what kind of mob this incites. We’ve got a dangerous situation on our hands.”

  “Understood, ma’am,” acknowledged the first officer. “But, if we just walk ‘em out like they are, isn’t that gonna incite even more?”

  “I don’t see how it can get any worse,” reasoned the provost. “What’s left that everyone hasn’t already seen? The faster they’re outta here, the better. I’ve got an academy to run, and I can’t do it with them here.”

  “Our car’s right outside,” said the first officer.

  “Gonna need a second car,” advised the other policeman. “I’ll call.”

  Hildy sat dumbfounded as she listened to this conversation. If she understood correctly, the cops were going to walk them outside and drive them to the police station naked. As if enough people hadn’t already seen them, now people all over town would have the opportunity. Any bus passenger or anyone with a high-profile vehicle coming alongside would get a bird’s eye view
of the naked girls in the cop car. And, if the car came to a stop at an intersection, any nearby pedestrians would also be sure to get the peep show of their lives. It would be just like the scene in the movie that had sparked Hildy’s exhibitionism fantasy. The problem was Hildy’s fantasy dream had turned into a freaking nightmare.

  “You can’t take us out there like this!” argued Hildy. “Not in front of everyone!”

  “You’re streakers, but you don’t wanna be seen naked?” was the stout cop’s incredulous question.

  “They picked the most public opportunity they could,” Dr. Z informed the officers. “A general assembly when everybody would be there.”

  The cops gave knowing nods to each other. One leaned close to the provost.

  “We’ve dealt with exhibitionists before.” He whispered it to the provost, but Hildy could still hear what he said. “Believe it or not, they typically put up much less resistance if we take ‘em away while they were still naked. Gives ‘em what they want. You okay with that?”

  From just beyond the office door, a lascivious invitation was shouted at full volume by a youthful male voice in the corridor.

  “Hey!—any more girls wanna streak?!”

  That prompted a chant of “Streak! Streak! Streak!”

  Further commotion occurred, this time from outside the office windows, where a crowd of students gathered. Faces, with hands cupped about the eyes to shade the glare of the sun, pressed against the glass. People jostled each other, trying to elbow their way in for a better view. Even Hildy had to admit to herself that this had the look of a situation that could spiral out of control and possibly even get violent.

  Dr. Z’s face purpled. “Get these nudies outta my school!” she demanded.

  “Second car’s on its way,” said the officer who’d just made a call.

  The first officer announced, “Ladies, you’re under arrest for indecent exposure in a public place.”

  “Un-fucking-believable!” muttered Susan as the cops read the girls their rights.

  Two more police officers—a man and a woman—arrived within the next minute. The policewoman did the honors of cuffing the girls’ hands behind their backs. It was standard procedure for an arrest.

  “Let’s go, girls,” the policewoman said in a businesslike manner. She tossed in a snide postscript. “Your public awaits.”

  The girls had one cop each to escort them. The dark haired cop took hold of Hildy, grasping her by just her upper arm. It was an obvious precaution to avoid his brushing against certain parts of her anatomy in a way that might later be complained of as police brutality.

  The policewoman opened the office door and led the way for the others. With their hands cuffed behind their backs, Hildy and her friends couldn’t even attempt to cover their nudity.

  “One side, one side,” ordered the policewoman as she parted the applauding students waiting in the corridor.

  The cops walked their naked companions through the crowd and out the main front door of the school. Until then, only Susan among them had endured the unwanted experience of being nude outside. Now all four girls were outdoor nudists, the bright sun fully illuminating their bare bodies. Hildy cringed knowing the sunlight would make for some of the best quality photos of the day.

  By this time, the bulk of the crowd went outdoors to witness the final act of the nudie show. When the officers escorted their arrestees out the door, the waiting crowd let fly with a huge ovation. It seemed the throng had grown even larger. No doubt word spread far and wide through texts, tweets, emails, and phone calls, and that brought spectators out of the woodwork. The stoners who'd missed the original streak now were present to witness the naked perp walk. And, it was later said, even people who had not been in school that day, for one reason or another, made an immediate B-line for campus when they heard what awaited them there. One guy, it was rumored, who'd suffered at home with a case of food poisoning, managed to drag himself to the school so he wouldn’t miss this once in a lifetime spectacle.

  The cops placed Dara and Cindy in the backseat of one of the police cars, while Susan and Hildy were led to the backseat of the other. Seated next to each other, Hildy noticed Susan’s crotch, now with less hair than Hildy had remembered being there earlier.

  “What happened to your bush?” Hildy asked.

  “The stoners have it,” Susan muttered.

  Once again, it was just like the movie. Gobs of laughing faces crowded around the cars to point and gawk at the naked girls trapped within. Two newly arrived cops did their best to shoo people out of the lane leading to the parking lot exit. As soon as they cleared the path, Hildy expected they’d drive the girls to the police station where they’d be booked and given a court date. She tried to console herself with the notion that indecent exposure was a minor crime that would incur just a small fine and probably some community service. Still it needed to be processed down at the station, and that’s where they were headed—with nothing on. For the moment, though, the cars weren’t moving, and the crowd was just outside the autos.

  It was then that Hildy heard a boy close to the car window inquire loudly of a girl standing right next to him, “Which one yelled ‘I’m bare-pussy’?”

  “I think it was Hildy Bowlers!” the girl shouted back.

  Oh, shit! They had heard that from the stage? How could they have heard that among all the screaming that went on?

  Then Hildy remembered the Assembly Hall had been acoustically designed to facilitate sound traveling from the stage to the audience. Just another fly in the ointment of an otherwise perfect plan, she stewed.

  There wasn’t a lot of room in the backseat. Still, covering up as best one could seemed, to Hildy, like a reasonable game plan, to Hildy for the moment, so she hunched forward in an attempt to shield her front torso. That’s when she noticed Susan sitting up straight in the seat, making no attempt to conceal any portion of her nudity.

  “You’re such a perv!” Hildy chided her friend. “You don’t even care that everyone sees?”

  “It’s worse if they know you’re embarrassed,” Susan whispered through gritted teeth.

  The boy outside the car saw Hildy’s cover-up position and hollered through the window, “Hey, Hildy!—you’re not embarrassed all of a sudden to be bare-pussy, are ya?!”

  “What’s the matter, Hildy?!” teased the girl right next to the boy as she announced it loud enough for Hildy and everyone else in the vicinity to hear. “Don’tcha like bein’ bare-pussy anymore?”

  The crowd responded with more laughing taunts, having huge fun with the silly synonym for nudity.

  “Hey, Hildy’s embarrassed to be bare-pussy!”

  “Look how fuckin’ embarrassed she is that she’s bare-pussy!”

  “I’d just die if I were running around bare-pussy in front of everyone!”

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Hildy! Be bare-pussy and proud!”

  That’s when it occurred to Hildy that Susan was right. This was worse. What made the movie scene such a titillating, arousing, compulsive delight for Hildy wasn’t just the nudity and the reaction it got from those who were seeing a pair of unintentional nudists. It was the unhidden embarrassment of the naked couple, who proclaimed their public humiliation for all to see and hear by screaming and bouncing hysterically. That’s what Hildy was giving to the crowd around the police car. She was giving them something to intensify their enjoyment. They were feasting on her naked body and her naked humiliation. It would be different if these were strangers she’d never see from this day forward. But these were people she knew and whom she’d have to deal with again beginning with classes on Monday. Some would follow her to the university where she was transferring next year. How could she ever face them again if they knew what she was really going through sitting there as a naked spectacle for all of them? She’d just die if they knew!

  Hildy sat up straight. The people around the car cheered the move. They began a chant of “Bare-pussy! Bare-pussy! Bare-pussy!”

/>   Hildy looked at Susan, whose expression needed no explanation. Hildy couldn’t let the crowd know her true feelings. Susan knew it, and now she knew it, too.

  They leaned back and, as though it were the most natural thing to do under the circumstances, allowed their knees to part.

  Hildy’s inner voice screamed, “Whoah-oh-ooooooooooh-oh-oh-aaah-aaaaahhh!!!”

  Epilogue

  Hildy Bowlers learned an important lesson—fantasies are great so long as they remain a fantasy. Reality can sometimes be too real.

  Following the arrest, the cops drove the girls to the police station where, inexplicably, not one officer could find even a single piece of apparel in which to wrap the nude perps. At least, that’s what they claimed. That necessitated the girls remaining naked during the taking of mug shots. If they were just your standard head-and-shoulders photos, the girls probably wouldn’t have had anything to complain about. However, the camera’s placement several feet back was suspicious.

  Protect and serve, my ass! fumed Hildy.

  At this point, what difference did it make? Considering how many pictures were taken and shared of their streak and its aftermath, who didn’t already have nude photos of the Paper Bag Girls? That’s how they came to be known around town and on the Internet. As a foursome, they were the Paper Bag Girls, or Paper Bag Streakers, or just the Paper Baggers, or PBs, for short.

  With those kinds of names dogging them, as well as almost constant display of their nudie photos on classmates’ cell phones and laptops, the last couple of weeks at Valefour Academy were tough on the girls. They all graduated on time, though. There had been general speculation that Dr. Zabrinksi might kick them out and refuse to issue them diplomas. Yet, that kind of black mark could have had far-reaching consequences on the girls’ later professional lives and, as Hildy would later explain it to Susan, might have led to their well-heeled parents filing lawsuits. Graduating the girls was just simpler and a final remedy for being rid of the PBs, or whatever people called them.