She has to have those pictures

The walk to her locker had never seemed longer before. The multitude of emotions coursing through her, and her inexplicable lust, made it hard for her to focus on the question at hand. As her trembling fingers fiddled with her lock, she debated just how far she'd go for those pictures, just how much of her dignity she would sacrifice, to keep her secrets safe.

Opening her locker, she found the scissors sitting on top of the pictures. With a trembling hand, she took the scissors off the small pile. The pictures beneath them were more of her and Jason in her room, and the sight of them sent another lustful wave of heat through her. She couldn't be getting turned on by her blackmailer's voyeurism, could she? Was exposing herself to others something so exciting, yet so shameful? How was this even possible?

Through her reverie, she had a faint sensation of her hands working the scissors over the buttons of her blouse, faint snips as the blades rasped against each other and the subtle loosening of her blouse telling her she was cutting buttons off, yet it didn't seem real. Forcing herself back to the moment, she looked down, and realized she had already snipped all six buttons off, her blouse hanging loosely open, a line of pale flesh exposed where the blouse had once fastened. A shudder coursed through her, though she couldn't tell if it was lust or shame, and she realized she really was going through with this.

Her shoes hung her up for a moment, though. Strangely, she was more concerned about her mum seeing her this way than she was anyone else. However, she didn't like the tone of her blackmailer's voice regarding the "dire consequences" of not doing as he said. Reluctantly, she slipped her flats off, the tile of the hallway cool against her bare soles, and slipped them into her locker. For some inexplicable reason, feeling the tile floor beneath her soles made her feel more exposed than the missing buttons on her blouse, though she couldn't explain why. She tried to shove the thought from her mind as she removed the pictures and closed her locker.

Her gaze fixed on the pictures in her hands, she set off towards a side door of the school, bare soles slapping against the hard tile, breasts bouncing in rhythm with her rapid stride. Her fingers feverishly tore each picture into smaller pieces, which she deposited in various trash cans as she walked by them. By the time she reached the door, the last of the pictures was little more than shredded scraps, which she dropped into another bin as she pushed her way through the door, warm sunlight striking her face and breasts as she stepped out onto warm concrete. As the door shut behind her, it suddenly struck her that the sun shouldn't be warming her breasts, and she looked down, realizing that, in her haste to destroy the the pictures, she had forgotten about her buttonless blouse, which was flapping behind her as she walked. Shame and arousal blazed through her as she realized she had just walked through her school and out the door with her breasts completely exposed. While she was mostly glad no one had seen her, a small part of her wished someone had caught her, had seen her brazen display, a part of her she found she just couldn't suppress.

She ducked into a nearby alcove, and took a moment to fiddle with her blouse, trying to tuck it into the waistband of her jeans. There was maybe an inch of extra material there, hardly enough to really secure it there, but she endeavoured until it was tucked all the way around, the material stretching tightly over her breasts, her rock-hard nipples clearly denting the material, a slender 'V' of exposed flesh rising from the waistband of her jeans to her neck. It probably wouldn't stay that way, but it would have to do.

Her mind turned to her best route home. There was a shortcut through a small, wooded park she could take, though she normally avoided that route due to the usual crowd of delinquents who hung out there, or she could risk taking the main route, down the streets. Or maybe there was another way?

Curling her bare toes against the rough concrete, Julie tried to prepare herself to step out again, and chose to...