Marcie, The Braless Warrior

He picked up her hand, kissed it, and said, "I've got to go. I enjoyed meeting you. I hope to see you again. Bye." He turned and walked away. It was a sassy walk.

She said, "You do have a better butt than me."

He shook it, turned his head, and gave her a smile.

"Bye," she called out.

She sat on the sofa thinking about what he said. Jayme joined her. She was happy, excited, and babbled all the way home about how great Chas was.

"His dick was huge!"

"I know. I saw it," Marcie said.

"He's such a great lover. He made sure I came before him."

"He's a total gentleman," Marcie commented.

Jayme cried when she said, "He didn't shame me about my fat, flabby, saggy, jiggly body."

Marcie said with sincerity, "He's a keeper."

^^^

Saturday morning Marcie, Jayme, and the other members of the youth group went to the waterpark. They had a great time. They rode all the rides. Some, multiple times.

The church group gathered at the designated time and place to return home. Everyone laughed as Roger told the story of losing his bathing trunks in the wave pool. Allie's face couldn't have been redder as she recounted her most embarrassing adventure. Her top came off when she went down one of the tall water slides.

One of the boys said, "Marcie, you're red. Didn't you use sunscreen?"

She looked at her arm and chest and saw the redness. She said, "I did and I applied it many times."

"Geez, Marcie," Jayme said. "It looks bad. What SPF was it?"

The sunburned young woman reached into her bag and pulled out the bottle of sunscreen. She said, "I think it was rated SPF 30." She checked the label. Showed it to Jayme and said, "It says SPF 30."

Jayme took the bottle and said, "You have the right level of protection. The problem is you didn't get one that was water resistant. This stuff is fine for sunbathing, but it washes off in water. Why did you pick this one?"

Her friend had a chagrined look on her face as she said, "I picked it because I like the way it smelled. Now I'll pay the price. I've got a bad sunburn."

^^^

Sunday morning, Marcie woke in pain after a restless sleep.

"Ow. This sunburn hurts. Boy, that was a stupid mistake."

She was careful as she dressed for church. She was miserable during the service. As they drove home, she said, "Dad, can we stop by the pharmacy? I need some stuff for this sunburn."

"Yes. You're very red. That has to hurt."

"Yes. It does. I effed up and I got the wrong kind of sunscreen."

^^^

"I've got to get my bra off!" Marcie said as soon as the car stopped outside their home. She hurried inside carrying the bag of stuff she'd bought at the drugstore that she hoped would ease her pain.

She dropped the pharmacy bag on the sofa in the family room. She unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. Next, her bra came off. It landed on the couch.

"Ohhh! That's better," she sighed, closed her eyes, and stood still. Being embarrassed over being topless in front of her father never entered her mind. She wanted relief from the constricting bands and the killer straps of her bra. She savored it.

Her father looked at her. Most of the skin of her substantial breasts was milky white. The top and the area of her cleavage were red and angry like her arms, shoulders, stomach, and legs. Her nipples were hard and pointy. They were a light pink color as befits a maiden. Her mother's nips were that color when she and George met. They grew larger and darker after she became pregnant.

Marcie looked at her father and pleaded, "Dad, I don't think I can wear clothes today. My skin is so sore and the slightest pressure irritates it."

"That's okay. You don't plan to go outside, do you?"

"No, I don't need more sun." She paused, made a face, and stuck out her tongue when she realized he was joking. She said, "Ha. Ha. Very funny. Have mercy on me. I'm miserable."

"Sorry, Pumpkin," he answered. His eyes squinted as if he was deep in thought. He said, "That seems wrong. You're red, not orange. I should call you radish or red bell pepper."

He came up to her, kissed her on the forehead, and said, "Do what is necessary to be comfortable. Why don't you take a bath? I'll get some baking soda. I remember my mother putting baking soda and oatmeal in my bath to soothe my burnt skin."

She went into the bathroom, pushed down her panties, and sat on the toilet. She was peeing when her father walked in with a box of baking soda. He stopped, looked at her, and smiled.

Marcie was naked. She looked at him with innocent eyes and said, "What are you smiling about?"

"I know I tell you often how much you remind me of your mother. You did it again."

"How?" she asked. She shook her long, black hair and ran her fingers through it to get it out of her face.

"Your mother, God rest her soul, rarely peed in front of me. She was embarrassed by the tinkling sound you females make. On the infrequent occasion when she did, she'd blush, and her face would turn bright red."

Marcie finished pissing, grabbed a wad of toilet paper, and dabbed her vulva. She said, "I guess, we all are self-conscious about something. For me, when you have to go, you have to go. I've never worried about the sound."

She went to the tub and turned on the cold water. Her bright white bum stuck out. It was round, yet firm.

George glanced at her ass and then at her long, stringy hair. He said, "Your mother had long hair when we met. After she had you, she cut it. She said she didn't have the time to deal with a baby and her long hair."

Marcie stood and turned to her dad. She said, "I'm thinking of cutting it." She lifted a section of it and said, "Mom's hair was thick and wonderful. Mine is thin and flat. Too often it looks limp and stringy."

"Your mother did have great hair. I'm sorry you got my hair. Are you sure you want to cut it off? It's practically the only hair you've got. You'll be down to just eyebrows."

He tilted his head and looked at her hairless sex. He raised his eyebrows and, in an obvious manner, looked at her eyes. He quickly shifted his eyes back and forth looking at her vagina and then, focusing on her eyes.

It was a comical, exaggerated gesture. She laughed. So did he.

Then he said, in a thin, wheezy, old man's voice, "Back in my day, a woman's vagina had hair."

She continued to laugh, punched him playfully on the chest, and said, "DAD! Times change. Fashions change. I think it's more hygienic."

"You know I'm teasing," he said. "I wear a John Deere hat and a plaid shirt every day to work. What do I know about fashion? Shave what you want and style your hair any way you please."

Marcie stepped into the tub and shivered. Her nipples tightened up and her points got pointier. She said, "Burr!"

She sat down and said, "Wow! The water's cold, but it's helping with my sunburn. My skin was radiating heat. Not anymore."

George went down on one knee and poured in the baking soda. He put his hand in the water and swished it around to dissolve the powder. He said, "I hope this helps."

He ran his eyes up and down his daughter's beautiful, nude body and said, "Have I ever mentioned how much you remind me of your mother? Two very beautiful women."

She smiled. He smiled and left the room.

^^^

After soaking for a half hour, Marcie drained the tub and dabbed at her body with a towel. She applied one of the topical lotions she'd bought. The one that had Aloe Vera in it. She came out of the bathroom clutching a clean, dry towel to her front.

She found her father in the family room watching major league baseball. She asked, "How are our Indians doing?" She had inherited a rooting interest in the Cleveland team from him. He'd been born there and was a lifelong supporter.

He said, "Good. We'll make the playoffs. I'm sure."

"Absolutely," she agreed. "The bath was nice. I've put lotion on my front. Would you mind doing my back?"

"Of course not."

She handed him the bottle of lotion, spread the towel on the sofa, lay on her stomach, and watched the game. He knelt on the floor and began applying the Aloe Vera to her shoulders.

She stiffened and said, "Ow."

"Sorry."

He continued to apply the lotion as gently as possible. He worked his way down her body. He skipped over her smooth, white, alabaster ass and did her thighs. She spread her legs a bit to give him access. Again, he saw her hairless, cleft sex.

He also saw two love bites, small, circular hickeys on the thighs. She cringed when he rubbed the bruises. He moved on and did the rest of her legs.

He crawled around to her head so he could look her in the eye. He said, "Marcie, you're eighteen and are legally an adult. You've been having a period for years and you've blossomed into a beautiful woman. There's no doubt you've grown up. But, you know, to me, you're my daughter. I'll always love you and always worry about you."

He paused and gave her a serious look and said, "I not so naive to believe that you don't have sex."

"Dad!" she whined embarrassed. "Where is this going?"

"I saw the hickeys on your thighs. Just tell me you're being careful. That you're using condoms?"

She answered in a soft voice, "Remember? On my last visit with Dr. Janet, she wrote me a prescription for Ortho-Novum. I'm on the pill. I won't get pregnant. I am careful. I avoid dangerous situations. Jayme and I look out for each other."

He nodded, stood, and said, "I'm getting a beer. Want one?"

"Of course! You can't watch a ball game without a beer. You taught me that."

^^^

Marcie was naked all day. She put lotion on periodically. She tried all the anti-inflammatory creams -- Aloe, calamine, and hydrocortisone. George did the parts she couldn't reach.

Before bed, she took another cold bath. Her father playfully poured the oatmeal on her breasts, stomach, and legs.

She slept poorly.

^^^

Before he left for work, George stopped by his daughter's bed and said, "It's okay for you to stay home if the sunburn still bothers you."

She yawned, stretched, and said, "I want to go. The Glee Club is performing for the school. I think I'll be okay."

He kissed her on the forehead and said, "Okay. Whatever you decide."

^^^

Marcie got up and did her morning routine. She looked at her naked body in the mirror, toyed with her lifeless, long black hair, and said, "The boys have teased you about being a Japanese ghost. On bad hair days like today, I can't argue. The proof is as easy to see as today's rat's nest in my hair."

She looked as the sunburned body and said, "Today, they'll probably call me 'Lobster Girl'."

She got dressed. She did so slowly and carefully. She said, "Loose clothes are the ticket today. Ow. Fuck! This bra is killing me."

She cringed and said, "Can I go without one? Why not? No one notices me anyway. I'll wear a dark, high neck, long sleeve T-shirt and no one will be the wiser. As Logan said the other day. I have great tits. They're perky. Poor Jayme's boobs jiggle like loose change in an old man's baggy pants. I think I can get away with going braless for one day."

Marcie went to school. She had no incidents on the bus or in homeroom. Between classes, she clutched her books to her chest. While she sat at her desk listening and taking notes, her hard nips dented the shirt and the soft cotton draped itself around her boobs. But it wasn't that obvious.

She performed with the rest of the choir before lunch in front of the whole school. She walked slowly to the center of the gymnasium and tried to appear casual as she kept her arms crossed. She sang well and even forgot she was braless. No one noticed the girls weren't being supported.

However, issues arose. She was scared shitless during lunch. There was no way to cover her boobs when she needed two hands to hold her food tray. She heard some guys laughing and talking amongst themselves. She didn't know if this was their normal joking around or if someone had seen her bosom bounce and jiggle.

She was a little unnerved after that. So much so that she forgot and left her paper on 'How Volcanoes Formed Hawaii' in her locker. She remembered when she walked into the classroom. She had to go back to get, and then, she had to rush to get to class on time.

She descended the steps quickly. Her boobs bounced quite a bit. A classmate she ran passed on the stairs nearly shit himself seeing her tits flying about.

A boy in her science class was at the bottom of the stairs. He saw her boobs leaping and caroming under her top. Her T-shirt rippled as her breasts bounced, swayed, and jiggled.

"Dude," he said to the guy next to him. "Check out Marcie on the stairs. She must not be wearing a bra. Her tits are bouncing like crazy."

The second guy looked and said, "Fuck! I thought you were kidding. She's got bigger tits than I suspected. Man! They're like two cats in a bag fighting."

Word spread among the male students in the class. Marcie had to stand, walk to the front of the class, and deliver her report on volcanoes. The guys snickered and whispered and stared at her shirt while she walked and when she did her presentation.

Mr. Thompson, Marcie's science teacher, liked to wander around his classroom. He came up behind some of the boys and overheard their comments. He ogled her chest and noted her pokey nipples and the subtle movement of soft, feminine flesh under her cotton shirt.

When the bell rang, he visited the school's office and talked to Violet Velazquez, the school's dean of students.

"Violet, I have some distressing news," Thompson said.

"Spit it out, Cliff," the school's dean said. "I'm very busy."

"The boys in my class are laughing and talking about Marcie Amazon because she's braless. She's a terrible distraction and frankly, I'm uncomfortable that she isn't wearing the appropriate undergarment. I don't want to be accused of leering at a student and get fired. Her state of dress is a violation of our dress code."

"What? Marcie's a good girl. She's never been in any trouble and you're claiming she's pulled this stunt?

"The boys can't stop laughing and talking about it. And I saw it with my own two eyes. Her breasts lack proper support."

"Christ! I need this like a hole in the head," Violet said. "Okay. I'll deal with it."

Ms. Velazquez walked over to the public announcement system, picked up the microphone, and said, "Marcie Amazon. Marcie Amazon. Please report to the principal's office."

She turned and looked at the balding, middle-aged teacher and asked, "Satisfied?"

He nodded and left.

A few minutes later, Marcie appeared in the school office and told the secretary, "Hi, I'm Marcie. The principal is looking for me."

"Yes," the chubby woman said. "Ms. Velazquez wants to talk to you. Her office is there." The matron pointed to a door behind her.

Marcie walked around the counter, went to the designated door, and knocked. She heard a voice call out, "Come in."

She opened the door and went inside. Violet looked up at her. She gave her a hard look, stared at her chest, and then said, "Please have a seat. Marcie. I'm going to cut to the chase. Are you wearing a bra?"

"What?" she screamed and sat upright in the chair.

"It's a simple question. Are you wearing a bra?"

"Why would that be any concern of yours?"

"Anything that interferes with learning is of my concern. Answer my question, please."

"This weekend I got a bad sunburn," Marcie said. She tugged on her long sleeve shirt and showed her red forearm. "The straps of my bra are more than I can bear so I didn't wear one today. But everything is covered. My shirt has long sleeves and a high collar."

"Yes, but I have reports of boys in your class laughing and telling other students that you aren't wearing a bra. You're disrupting the class. You're a distraction. That is a violation of our dress code.

"Furthermore, a male teacher is uncomfortable being in the same room with you. Teachers have moral clauses in their contracts. They can be fired for sexual misbehavior. Being accused of encouraging female students not to wear bras or being accused of ogling a student could be grounds for dismissal."

Marcie was stunned speechless. Ms. Velazquez continued, "I'm not accusing you of wearing revealing clothing, but you are being provocative and are a distraction from learning. You need to control your bosom. Do you have a bra with you or in your school or gym locker?"

"No, ma'am."

Ms. Velazquez stood, left her office, and went to the lost & found container. She fished out a woman's camisole that would fit Marcie. She returned to her office, handed it to her, and said, "Go into the bathroom next door and put this undershirt on. Maybe if we double the fabric we can hide the fact that you're not wearing a bra."

Marcie took the cotton shirt and went into the single-occupancy bathroom. She removed her dark T-shirt, put on the white camisole, and covered it with her long sleeve shirt. She put her hands on her nipples and pushed. She whispered, "Go down. Go down."

She checked her hair in the mirror, smoothed it, opened the door, and walked back into the dean's office.

Violet looked up and said, "Walk back and forth."

Marcie did as she was ordered.

"That's better. I can barely notice them bouncing, but I can still see your nipples. Go see the school nurse, get four Band-Aids, and 'X' out the bumps."

Marcie was in a stupor as she went to the nurse's office. She walked in. The nurse was alone at her desk. Marcie said, "May I have four Band-Aids? Dean Velazquez wants me to put them on my nipples."

The nurse looked at her as if she was crazy. Her phone rang. She answered it. It was the Dean.

"Yes, Marcia Amazon is here."

Ms. Velazquez explained the situation and how she was trying to solve the distraction problem.

"Okay. I can give her Band-Aids," the nurse said. She hung up the phone. And then she went to a cabinet. She opened it and withdrew four adhesive bandages. She handed them to Marcie and said, "You can use one of the exam rooms."

Marcie started to cry. She went into the nearest exam room and closed the door. She pulled up the two shirts she was wearing and looked at her breasts. They were normal breasts with normal pink nipples. She got out her phone and texted her dad. Then, she took off the shirts and put her original top back on. She cried some more.

The text read, "I feel completely sexualized and I'm so embarrassed. Please come get me. I'm at school in the nurse's office.'"

Her dad read the message and immediately left work. He drove to the school and went to the office. He was ushered into Dean Velazquez's office and asked, "What's going on? I got a text from my daughter. She's very upset."

"Have a seat," the Dean said from behind her desk.

Mr. Amazon sat.

"Your daughter has been a distraction today," Violet said. She placed her elbows on the desk and interlaced her fingers.

"What are you talking about? Was she in a fight? Is she disrupting the class?"

"She isn't wearing a bra. The boys have noticed and they are distracted. She explained she didn't have a bra on because of her sunburn. Perhaps, she could stay home until she recovers and is able to wear one? Marcie is resting in the nurse's office. It's been a trying day for her. Why don't you take her home?"

Ms. Velazquez escorted him to the nurse's office. They found Marcie sitting quietly. She had on her dark shirt and was holding the unused Band-Aids. She got up when she saw her father, ran to him, and hugged him.

"There. There," George comforted his daughter. "Let's go home."

On the drive home, Marcie said, "Dad, I didn't do anything. I wasn't provocative. I didn't flaunt the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra. You know how bad my sunburn is. The straps dig into my shoulders and it hurts."

She stopped speaking and started to cry.

"I believe you," her father said.