Chelsea Fulton's Concert Sans Clothes

Chelsea Fulton was a beautiful, talented young musician with warm brown eyes, short brown hair, and a voice full of soul and introspection. She was a local talent and had even recorded and sold her music around the surrounding states. So she had made a bit of a name for herself, and was currently taking the stage to play a relaxed concert show on stage at a local pub. She wore a beanie hat, a long dress, and short boots and socks. She had sat down with her legs crossed on a solitary chair in the warm low light, and held an acoustic guitar in her slender arms. She almost looked too small for it at her barely 5 feet, a short girl with a powerhouse spirit.

However, her mind was not entirely at ease. She had had....a problem as of late. A very embarrassing, very strange, very unusual problem. And she really didn't want to worry, because it usually only happened at home. She'd been looking for a new place quite desperately. Because if you happened to stumble upon her at home during most hours as of late, where she was writing or reading or meditating or resting alone....you would find a cute young woman hanging out in the absolute nude.

Something had invaded her space,an invisible specter....and it clearly didn't like her wearing clothing. That had been the whole of it for the last few weeks for the poor, modest girl. Her home life had been converted to one of utmost bareness and hiding away from the windows lest her neighbors see all she had to offer. She hadn't really gotten used to the feeling of her unrestrained perky breasts jiggling around, the fabric of her bed under her bare back or cute bottom. Feeling the air over her subtle curves, caressing her thighs or her cute bare tummy. The carpet or wood floor beneath her quiet bare feet. But that's what she had been resigned to.

So now, in a nice moment of respite, she had made it outside the house to be in her element, and was thankfully, gloriously full wrapped in warm clothes.

For a moment, she had a vision of the worst. She looked down and could almost imagine that her crossed legs were bare, a dainty foot dangling out in front of the audience. Her bare shoulders and upper chest peeking over the body of her guitar as she felt it press against her unclad torso.

Her rear end rubbing the plastic chair. She shivered and came back to the fortunate reality that that was not the case.

"Hello, everyone! My name is Chelsea....you probably know who I am, so I'll skip the introduction. Let's have a great night!"

She started into her song, playing something intricate and sweet. Her voice carried across the room with a comfortable timbre. She managed to be almost hypnotizing, and the room was blanketed with her gift of music.

This went on for a while, before suddenly, in mid verse.....her nightmares came to bear. Or rather, to bare.

She felt a tugging at her foot, and tried to kick it off absentmindedly....and then suddenly there was a noise from the crowd, and someone moved to dodge an unseen object.

Chelsea looked down, and started to feel the adrenaline and nerves pick up as she saw her own socked foot. Her boot had flown off as if yanked by an invisible , into the audience. They looked down with confusion, and Chelsea's voice cracked a little as she tried to ignore.

She scrunched her little toes, hidden inside her sock, and tried to continue and play it off as something else. Maybe her ghostly friend would leave it alone at this little prank. However, her hopes were dashed when suddenly, at the high point of her current tune, her leg was wrenched up by the ankle and her other boot was kicked clean off again, revealing another ankle sock covered foot. It looked like she had kicked it off, playfully. She blushed, she couldn't help it. Chelsea knew this would be the least of her problems. She looked over at the manager to see if he would cover for her, but he was talking up some girl at the bar. Typical.

Chelsea stopped for a second, then continued, shooting an apologetic glance at the woman her boot had nearly hit in the head. She put her feet down to the floor, which felt weird with only socks on in this public place. There was murmuring in the crowd. She stopped her song. "Hehe....g-guess I'm just getting comfortable here! I, hehe, I hope you're all enjoying yourselves too!" She felt so embarrassed already. But she started another song.

She barely made it through the first verse before her arm was suddenly yanked up. She tried to play it off as a friendly wave to the crowd, until she felt the smallest bit of contact between her guitar and her rapidly more bare stomach and thighs.. Her dress! It was....it was rising off of her! "Oh...g-god no!" she whispered away from the microphone to herself before continuing.

And then, she had to finally stop, stifling a scream as suddenly her dress bunched up under her medium sized breasts. She felt the guitar on her tummy, bared behind the instrument. And then....her arms flew up as her dress flew into the air above her, landing on a banister. The crowd suddenly went wild, knowing she was covered up top only by a bra now. She almost stood up, but was too flustered. She tried to center herself again. "U-um...I think something is wrong!" She knew what was wrong, though. Her invisible friend was here...and it wasn't just happy to have her in her birthday suit at home....now it wanted her.....oh god, she couldn't be naked! Not here! She squirmed. "I th-think we're going to have to c-call this one early, I-"

Then, she felt a sudden press between her legs, and her knees buckled. She was sitting here in public in only her bra, panties and socks....but it wanted more! She couldn't let this happen! She got up....but then fell back onto her pantie covered bottom as the crowd milled about and laughed, oohed, or just watched as she tried to hold onto her favorite guitar.

She mouthed pleas, trying to speak, and suddenly a weak "H-help", came from her lips. Some men tried to come up and save the day, while others watched with glee. But then one was kicked away as her legs swung up from the floor, and she felt her ankle socks yanked off, baring her cute dainty feet and her small unpainted toenails. She crossed her legs, blushing, one bare foot still dangling over the crowd as her toes wriggled while she squirmed. Then, a hand grabbed at her...was that her friend? The crowd was sure it was, as they booed and yelled for something to happen.

She leaned forward, squealing as she felt her bra unclasp! Then whimpered as her pale shoulders were bared, straps falling down.

Chelsea's cheeks were tomato-red now, and her eyes were wide, searching the room desperately. It seemed no one cared to stop this, or those that could were knocked away. The manager finally noticed, and bellowed. "Wh-what is this?! This is a pub, not a strip joint!" She felt so humiliated, but then she felt something push her off of her bottom, and she fell on bare knees on the stage. She caught her guitar and leaned over, but not before she felt the air on her bare back, and the telltale jiggle of her hanging boobs.

She finally screamed in embarrassment as she saw her bra fly into the crowd, landing on a woman's head. She was not amused. Everyone else was though, looking at the all-but-naked Chelsea on stage, on her knees with just a guitar.

Chelsea closed her eyes, pleading with her heart and soul with whatever this was. Suddenly, it was silent as people realized nothing was happening. Chelsea got up to stand, and felt the stage beneath her bare soles. She wiggled in place, clutching her instrument to her bare front protectively. It felt very strange. She was left with only her beanie on her head, and her panties- when suddenly she felt launched into the air. She landed on her behind, and slid a little until she hit the back of the stage.....and then heard raucous sounds of approval. And then she felt it. The way she had felt at home for the last few weeks. The mortifying, nerve-wracking, all-encompassing.....nude! She looked down and squealed, closing her spread legs. Her bare pussy had been showing to the audience as she slid back on her naked butt!

Chelsea Fulton was now one hundred percent stark naked at the pub, barefoot even. At least she still had her beanie, a comfort item....until it flew into the air, landing around 10 feet behind her. Her brown hair fell down over her neck, tickling it. She was exposed now. In her totally natural state. She couldn't be more embarrassed. The crowd stood up and cheered, they didn't understand. Who would understand?! She was....she didn't know what to do! The naked beauty clutched her guitar to her bare body, feeling everything against it....and everything else felt the breeze, or the floor, or the eyes roaming her from head to bare toes.

And she realized something. She would be like this now. It was trying to tell her. Chelsea Fulton, local star, was to become an unwilling, flustered nudist. She couldn't really hide from the publicity, or the people. She didn't know how to cope, so she did the only thing she could. She looked down, blushing and averting her pretty brown eyes. And shuffled sideways off of the stage, barefoot and bare as the day she was born. She sprinted across the bar room, and didn't stop until she was in her car. She started the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot, gravel flying.

Even driving was strange. Bare feet against the pedals. Bare butt against the seat upholstery. When she got home, Chelsea discovered a note stuck to her door. She almost fainted as she read it, bare ass facing her sleeping neighborhood. A neighborhood that would soon be awake enough to know there was a naked woman in its midst. It read: ENJOY YOUR NUDE LIFE, Chelsea Fulton.

And then a gust of wind both reminded her of her total nakedness, and blew it away. She looked to where the note had gone, but there was nothing. And so Chelsea Fulton, new nudist for life, squealed one last time and bolted inside, locking the door. She never wanted to go out again.

But there was a next time. People came from far and wide to see the inexplicably naked, embarrassed young star. Every show, naked. Every night sitting at the bar, nude. Bare body, bare feet, and her usual bared soul. It almost seemed poetic, in a way. The young star was now a forever nudist.

And she was taking that one day at a time.