Ashley’s Diary — Friday, April 17, 2009 (archives)

Friday, April 17, 2009

Listen, I know I’m a day behind, but there was so much to tell about yesterday, I need to fill you in.  Then, tomorrow, I’ll tell you about today, is that fair?

Yesterday was such an exciting day!  After collecting yet another four points in homeroom, the three body-painted girls went to the showers for our long-awaited washing.  Our artist was there, which was a nice surprise.  He was particularly impressed with the way my design held up for the week, and not too disappointed that the other girls lost quite a bit of paint on their rumps.  “That’s the most vulnerable place,” he said.  He handed us each a little washing kit that included some pumice soap, regular soap, and a razor for our stubble.

We went into the showers, and washed and shaved each other, scrubbing the areas where the paint clung, until we were all squeaky clean.  We emerged from the showers clean pink as can be.  Our homeroom teacher greeted us, and said he had some of our clothing, which we had removed a week ago to begin the painting.

Was it just a week ago?  It seemed like longer.  Taylor and I huddled together for warmth as he handed Liz her micro-minidress, which she eagerly donned.  It seemed to have shrunk, but maybe it was just that Liz was still a bit wet.  In any case, it almost covered her pussy, but none of her pretty butt.  “Where are my panties?” she asked.  “I seem to have lost all your panties,” said the teacher.

Oh well, I thought.  At least I’ll have a dress to wear.  It will be good to have my bottom covered, finally.  “Here you go, Ashley.”  He handed me my dress, which I put on immediately.  I went to button it, and then remembered: in my desperate attempt to keep my dress, I had removed all the buttons.  It was with a horrible sinking feeling that I realized I would have to spend the rest of the day holding my dress closed.  I should count my blessings, though.  At least I have a dress to wear.

The teacher reached into the box of clothes, and found it empty.  Then he looked at Taylor with a shocked expression.  “I’m so sorry, Taylor, your clothes are missing.”

Taylor was beside herself with anxiety over this horrible turn of events.  “You mean I’ll have to spend the day naked?!”

“No, no, no,” said the teacher, reassuringly.  He patted her on the back, but she swatted his hand away.

“I trusted you to keep my clothes safe!” she said, her huge breasts bouncing with every word.

“If I may,” said the artist, “I can offer you this robe.”  He held it out, a pale, white robe so thin it looked like it would float on air.

Liz snatched it from him, and then, realizing her anger was not directed his way, softened.  “Thank you,” she said, sweetly to the artist as she put it on.  It only covered the top half of her body, but it was far better than nothing.  She would spend the rest of the day bottomless, go home, and put on some real clothes!

It’s a rare and beautiful sight: a rear view of cameltoe!


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