Maid for a Night by jastes22 Part 23: The Next Level The next level? What did that mean? Was Lindsay planning something? Was she giving my stranger ideas? I racked my brain. Was she friends with Teresa? Is that why this all happened? The next few days of school were worse than the first few weeks after that fateful night. It felt like my body was loaded with caffeine, constantly on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. I couldn't sit still in class, constantly leaving to use the bathroom or pace the halls. With all the extra nervous energy pented up inside me, I needed an outlet. I started going to the indoor pool every day, doing lap after lap. Tryouts were coming, and while I was all but guaranteed a spot on the team, there was still a chance that there would be scouts there, and scholarships were always on the line. The swim team had “open” practices that prospects were encouraged to attend. As much as I didn’t want to, it was an unofficial requirement to get onto the team. Due to the fact that no one’s place on the team was guaranteed, not even the juniors going into their senior year, competition was always very tight. I kept my distance from Teresa, but it was impossible given the close quarters of the locker rooms and the lanes. We were fortunate enough to have our own swimming pool on campus, but it wasn’t grand by any stretch of the imagination. I kept glancing over at her, waiting for her to make some comment, somme indication as to what was to come, but she said nothing. Instead, she just gave me strange looks whenever she caught me looking at her. “Good job, girls,” the coach said at the end of the practice. “I think you are all looking really good,” he said. But only 20 of you can be on the team, and only three of you can be captains. His words, unspoken, hung heavily in the air as we pulled ourselves out of the pool and started to hurry into the warmth of the locker rooms. Teresa hurried to a corner of the room and started to undress. We were all accustomed to the feeling of stripping in front of each other and getting a few more glances than was entirely appropriate—the swimsuits weren’t exactly designed for modesty—Teresa had always been shy about changing, and preferred a corner where she could cover herself better. I watched her peel off her top, towel in hand, putting her arm over her chest before glancing around and starting to tug it further down her waist. She was acting like I didn’t exist. I couldn’t take it any more. I stomped over to her, planting myself in front of her. “Just get it over with!” I grabbed her towel and yanked it towards me. She squealed, reaching for the towel before thinking better of it and returning her hands to her semi-bare tits. She stared at me with wide eyes. “What? What are you talking about?” “Oh, don’t be like that! When are you going to do it?” She looked absolutely bewildered by my behavior, and for a moment, I thought she was going to cry right there, her hands still clutching her swimsuit to her chest. “Do what? Taylor, I literally have no idea what you’re talking about! “Shut up!” I opened my mouth to scream again, to demand that she just get it over with, whatever humiliating thing she had planned, so I could go back to living my life. As the words formed in my head “Taylor?” Caroline, the current team captain, said, stepping up and wrapping her arms around Teresa. “You need to chill out. Now, or I’ll get you disqualified from tryouts.” Her words were like cold water in my face. I realized that everyone was watching us, me in my swimsuit, and Teresa half-naked, cowering over me. This was wrong. Everything about it was wrong. “I…I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.” I blushed, grabbed my bag of clothes, and rushed outside, still wearing my wet swimsuit. What was that? Teresa legitimately seemed like she had no idea what I was talking about. I had been so confident she was my stranger, enough to confront her, but now I wasn’t sure. Could I have gotten it wrong? Who could it have been? I texted Lindsay with shaky fingers as I got into my car. If my stranger is going to do anything, she better do it soon, or I’m going to go crazy. I was halfway home when she responded. Don’t worry, pet. Tomorrow is the day. Wear a cute skirt and a button-up, and you’ll finally get what you desire;) As cryptic messages went, that one was certainly up there. I wasn’t sure if it made me relieved or more stressed. That night, I raided my closet and laid out what I would wear the next day: white hipster panties with a simple solid white bra that snapped in the back, along with a light pink button-up that didn’t show any cleavage. A bit modest for a girl my age, but nothing that would draw any extra attention. I worked my way through classes the next day, unable to focus. Lindsay said it would happen today, but she didn’t say how it would happen, and that just made it worse. My imagination kept going crazy, imagining myself exposed in front of hundreds of students in varying degrees of undress. I walked into 4th period chemistry, looking around. A few of the girls on the swim team had this class, but I saw Teresa already seated at the back of the class. She met my gaze and turned away with a blush. I frowned, but decided against making a scene. Someone bumped into me, nearly pushing me off my feet. “Oops! Sorry, Taylor!” Someone grabbed my arms and helped me steady myself. “Sorry, didn’t see you,” Charles said. I shook my head. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have stopped right in front of the door.” “Alright, miscreants,” Mr. Dale said. “Lab day. Grab a partner and a table, and keep an eye on the clock.” “Hey, Taylor,” Charles said, still standing beside me. “Want to be partners?” Still embarrassed by the encounter, I agreed, putting my phone down on the table and taking the worksheet we were supposed to be working on from Mr. Dale. My phone vibrated on the table. Then again. Then again. “Phones off!” Mr. Dale said. I blushed, shoving the vibrating phone into my pocket. “Sounds like somebody really wants to get a hold of you,” Charles said. I knew who it was. Well, maybe not who, but what. Shooting a glance across to Mr. Dale, who was busy with grading some papers, I turned away from Charles and opened my phone. Pictures. Dozens of pictures of my naked body filled my eyes. Pictures of the different poses that each of the boys and Lindsay had me do, followed by some other pictures of me just standing there, buck-naked with the blindfold being the only stitch of clothing on me. And the pictures kept coming. More pictures, more than I could remember from that night. Some from different angles with different lighting, some very close-up pics of my shaven pussy and my tits. There was a brief pause, and I could imagine my stranger going through her gallery looking for more pictures. A video clip popped up on my phone, and I knew without clicking on it from its length that it was the video of my orgasming on the table in front of everyone. My heartbeat racing faster and faster, I glanced at the number. I didn’t recognize it. Hello, Taylor. I swallowed, my throat suddenly very dry. She knew me. My stranger knew who I was. Obviously she was in contact with Lindsay, but I had hoped that maybe she would only get a phone number, not a name. I glanced at Teresa, who was focused on her work, her phone upside down on the table beside her. No, it wasn’t Teresa. Then who was it? There was a pause. Was I supposed to text back? What were the rules here? Hello, I texted back. I’ll keep this simple. Do everything I tell you, and these pictures stay between us and your friends. You hesitate at all, and there will be consequences. Understood? My fingers hurried to type in my response. I didn’t want to give my stranger any reason to possibly distribute those pictures. Still, I hesitated. She was just demanding obedience, but there was no promise that she would actually delete the pictures and the video she had. Could I really commit to complete obedience without that reassurance? Unfortunately, my stranger had all the power right now. There was nothing I could do. I just had to hope that my obedience would get me some mercy. Understood. What do I have to do?