She tries to escape from the drone.

Mackenzie gasped for breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stood on the small road island, bent over with her hands braced on her knees.

Her mind raced with panic and embarrassment as she stared down at the patch of grass between her feet, her bare toes digging into the hard ground as she shifted her weight.

The faint sound of laughter in the distance made her freeze. Were those kids from the next street over? She bit her lip, panic threatening to overcome her. If anyone spotted her, she’d never live it down. The neighborhood was quiet but not deserted; anyone could walk past or drive by and see her!

“I can’t believe this,” she muttered under her breath, frustration bubbling to the surface. “This cannot be happening.”

As she took another moment to collect herself, gaze fixed downward, something caught her attention.

Through the gap between her legs, a small, buzzing object hovered just a few feet behind her. It took her brain a second to register it, but when it did—oh shit

Her eyes widened in horror. Hovering a few feet away, perfectly framed between her parted legs, was the drone. Its sleek, black body floated almost silently, the lens unmistakably trained on her from what one could politely call a "unique angle."

For a brief, horrifying moment, she froze, her mind blank with shock.

Oh my god

The drone’s position left no doubt—it had a perfect view of her bent-over form, her bare ass and most intimate parts fully exposed to its unblinking eye.

Mackenzie remained frozen in her humiliating bent over position, as her frazzled brain struggled to come to terms with the situation. For a long, agonizing moment she remained still, staring through her parted legs at the intrusive device, as if by some miracle it would turn away unprompted. But the drone remained steadfast, its tiny propellers whirring almost gleefully, as though it were reveling in her embarrassment just as much as its operator must have been.

The perspective couldn’t have been worse for her (or better for the drone operator).

Her plump rounded ass was a perfect peachy display, it's smooth curves accentuated by her folded posture. Her cheeks, lovely in their own right, also framed the lower view. Her parted legs offered an unobstructed view that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Her small, tightly puckered rear entrance was also on full display and, beneath her jiggling rear, Mackenzie's delicate lips peeked out, the soft folds slightly parted due to the way her legs were spread.

Her exposed pussy, glistening slightly in the sunlight (perhaps from the sheen of nervous sweat clinging to her skin), was positioned front and center in the camera's field of view.

This can't be happening

Mackenzie’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock.

He can see everything!

Finally, she realized she was still bent over and presenting her assets to the camera.

Why haven't I moved yet?!

Stifling a squeal of embarrassment, she straightened up with the speed of a startled deer, hands flailing uselessly in a **** attempt to preserve whatever shred of modesty she still believed she had.

But the damage was already done; the image was already captured, etched into digital memory forever: the glorious, unguarded view of Mackenzie's naked body offered up to the drone operator.

“Are you kidding me?!” she hissed at the drone, her voice shook with anger but she had enough sense to keep it low.

She moved the arm covering her ample breasts and swatted at the drone in an attempt to shoo it away, but the drone hovered steadily.

“Go away!” she snarled, lunging toward the drone and attempting to swat it out of the air. It darted backward smoothly, keeping just out of reach, and then circled around her. She turned in place, **** to keep it in her line of sight, but it only served to make her feel more exposed as the drone easily captured every angle of her naked body.

Mackenzie stood with her arms clamped across her bare chest and crotch, her mind racing as she weighed her options. The humiliation of being recorded while stranded naked in public threatened to overwhelm her. Then her eyes darted toward the wooded area bordering her neighborhood, and a **** plan formed.

If I can make it to the woods, that drone might not be able to follow!

It was her only chance, but it wouldn't be easy. The side path that led off from her neighborhood and into the wooded area was across the street and about ten houses down from her current position.

Her heart sank as she took in the horrifying realization: to find cover, she would have to streak through her own neighborhood. Her own neighborhood.

She swallowed hard, her legs trembling beneath her, as she imagined the whispers, the laughter, the pointed fingers if anyone saw her exposed like this.

And yet, what choice did she have? Mackenzie took a deep, shuddering breath and prepared to bolt, the dread weighing heavy in her chest as she realized just how much more humiliating this day was about to become.

She ran, her bare feet slapping against the hot asphalt of the street as she crossed.

Mackenzie felt the dread mounting with every step. No bushes, no fences, no mailboxes to duck behind—just her, streaking through the open air, praying she wouldn’t hear a door creak open or a voice call out her name.

oh my god oh my god oh my god

As she ran, her heart hammered with adrenaline. Her mind conjured vivid images of her neighbors peeking out from behind curtains or standing at their windows, watching in stunned disbelief as she scurried past naked. She didn’t see anyone yet, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

What if Mr. Hewitt sees me? Or the Thompsons?

The thought made her face burn even hotter.

Each hurried step sent her curves bouncing and jiggling uncontrollably. Her large, full breasts moved wildly despite her **** attempts to hold them still with one arm. Her free hand darted frantically between her thighs and her ass, trying to shield herself from any prying eyes that might catch a glimpse of her most private areas.

But no matter how hard she tried, it was hopeless. She didn’t have enough hands to cover everything, and every stride made her situation more undignified. Her hips swayed and her plump rear jiggled with each step, the motion exaggerated by her frantic pace. The sound of her own hurried, uneven breathing only heightened her embarrassment.

Her face burned crimson as she glanced around nervously, certain that someone would see her at any moment. She felt ridiculous and humiliated by the absurdity of her situation.

Her hair whipped into her face as she ran and she stumbled slightly. Mackenzie moved her hand from chest to pull her hair away from her eyes and cringed as she felt her now completely unrestrained tits bounce up and down in time with her strides.

The thought of anyone seeing her like this made her stomach churn with embarrassment.

Why does everything have to move so much? she thought desperately, pressing her hands harder against her bare body.

She sprinted past houses she’d walked by a hundred times before, now looking absurdly out of place—her nude, jiggling form darting through the pristine neighborhood.

The buzzing drone followed, easily keeping pace with her.

Her face burned, a deep scarlet hue that only intensified as she caught sight of her reflection in a parked car’s window. Her mouth dropped open in horror. There she was—completely exposed, her voluptuous body captured in perfect clarity by the car’s polished glass.

Seeing her exposed body like that, so out of place in the middle of the neighborhood, made her cheeks burn hotter.

“Oh shit shit shit” she gasped, her mortification redoubling as she tore her gaze away from the damning reflection. She continued on, fully aware of how absurd she must look: her toned thighs pumping, her bare ass bouncing with each hurried step, the drone faithfully tracking her from above.

Her neighbors’ houses loomed on either side, their windows like watchful eyes that might, at any moment, reveal an onlooker drawn by the commotion. She half-expected curtains to twitch or a door to open, someone stepping out with a phone in hand to capture the unbelievable spectacle of Mackenzie reduced to nothing more than a naked, scrambling mess.

Oh God, they’re going to see me. Someone’s going to see me!

Her thoughts spiraled as she ran, her head darting around to scan the houses. Windows loomed like blank, staring eyes, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that neighbors were watching, hidden behind curtains or blinds, shocked and gawking. Every second dragged as she imagined faces leering out at her, laughter behind closed doors, cameras capturing her humiliation.

Just a little farther, Mackenzie. You can do this!

But her legs wobbled with exhaustion and embarrassment, and the chill of the open air against her bare skin only amplified how exposed she was.

She glanced back over her shoulder and saw the drone hovering just behind her, relentlessly. Her breath hitched, and she pushed herself harder, tears of frustration welling in her eyes.

Finally, she reached the path that turned off of the street and into the woods.

The treeline was close now. If she could just reach it, she’d be hidden. But with every step, the dread grew heavier, the fear that someone she knew—or worse, the entire neighborhood—had already seen her disgraceful dash through the streets of her own home.

She sprinted toward the woods, the promise of cover tantalizingly close yet feeling impossibly far away. Her bare feet stung with every slap of pavement, and her lungs burned as panic clawed at her throat.

Ahead, the boundary of the woods loomed—a gate standing between her and potential salvation. Relief surged through her

She reached the gate and, with trembling hands, tried to open the latch. Her fingers slipped and fumbled, unable to make sense of the simple mechanism in her flustered state.

"Come on, come on!" she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice shaky and ****. The buzzing sound of the drone was still loud in her ears, and to her horror, she thought she heard footsteps approaching from the road. Someone must have been drawn by the sound!

Her breath caught in her throat, and a fresh wave of terror surged through her. She couldn’t afford to waste another second. With no other choice, she grabbed the top of the gate and began to scramble over it. The wood scraped against her bare skin.

As she swung one leg over the gate, she felt the drone’s unrelenting gaze still locked on her. She was painfully aware of how exposed she was, her position giving the hovering camera—and potentially anyone nearby—an unflinching view of her backside and everything between her legs. Heat surged to her face, and she whimpered in frustration, but she had no time to dwell on her humiliation.

Finally, she flopped onto the far side of the gate, landing gracelessly in the dirt with a soft thud. She scrambled to her feet, brushing twigs and dirt from her skin, and bolted deeper into the woods, her breaths ragged and uneven.

The cool shade of the trees enveloped her, and she didn’t stop until she found a thick oak a little way in. Ducking behind it, she pressed her back against the rough bark, her chest heaving as she tried to calm her racing heart.

Peering around the tree, she scanned the way she’d come, her eyes wide and darting. She could still hear the faint hum of the drone, though it seemed to have paused near the gate. She wasn’t sure if it had lost her or was simply deciding what to do next, but the thought of it lingering out there, waiting for her, sent a fresh shiver down her spine.

She hugged the tree for cover, her skin prickling with the lingering embarrassment of her mad dash through the neighborhood. Her mind replayed every humiliating second—her bouncing assets, the exposed reflection in the car window, the struggle at the gate. Her stomach churned, and she clenched her fists, trying to steady her erratic breathing.

"Please don’t let anyone have seen me. Please."

It was a performance, truly—a scene that would have been talked about for years if anyone had seen it. Mackenzie, normally the picture of elegance and composure, reduced to a naked, frantic mess, streaking through her own neighborhood like a guilty thief fleeing the scene of a crime. She could practically hear the laughter, the jokes, the teasing comments that would undoubtedly follow her forever if the drone's footage was ever published.

And yet, for now, she was mercifully alone—except, of course, for the drone, her ever-present tormentor, still buzzing somewhere behind her.