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Sandry was a prudish brunette, 18 year old girl with dreams of being remembered and admired by her fellow peers. She hadn't even kissed a boy. When she went swimming, it was always an unflattering suit that showed none of her curvy figure. Her underwear drawer only had boy shorts, or boxers, some childish panties with patterns and only a few thongs that she rarely wore, cause no one asked her out. However, she regretted about wishing to be remembered, because all people were remembering young Sandry by, was her gigantic breasts, very plump rump, and overall body without a stitch to be seen.

Anyone who had looked her way normally, would instantly forget about her in the way she would dress. But anyone who looked her way today would get to see her uncovered flesh, buttocks hypnotically swinging, and a glimpse of the occasional nipple before getting shoved under her tiny arm again. Sandry was buck naked, and trying to get home from an already nightmarish day.

Not only had her gym class got to see her helpless stripped by a jealous girl, she also was seen in public running and worse, by her crush not just a few moments earlier.

Sandry wanted to cry, but the focus of getting home and putting some kind of cover on her disrobed form was the only thing that motivated her to keep moving. After a while longer, of reluctantly streaking, and several more people got to see her shapely body, Sandry had finally made home. Sighing with relief, her heart sank as she touched her left thigh, where her bag usually hung. "Oh come on..." Without her bag, she had no key to get inside.

Sandry remembered her younger sister Lucy was home, due to being ill earlier that morning. But Lucy was a brat, and probably wouldn't let Sandry in so easily. She could also try the window, which wasn't too far up, but risked being seen by her neighbors.