My Mother Forced Me to Undress in Front of Everyone

My name is Nora. I’m twenty-two years old and I’ve been struggling with anorexia since I was fourteen. Eight years counting calories until I fell asleep and vomiting in silence, feeling the edge of my own bones under the sheet. My father died when I was nine and my mother never rebuilt her life: she clung to mine, first out of love, then out of guilt, then out of sheer exhaustion. We love each other and hate each other in equal measure. I’m five feet tall and weigh thirty-nine kilos. The mirror gives me back something I can’t recognize as an adult body.

I study literature and, against all odds, I had had a boyfriend for almost two years. He was a confidant, a support, endless patience. Until he got tired. The last relapse I had was at the end of June, when he told me he couldn’t take it anymore and closed the door behind him.

The sleepless nights came back. The whole days without eating came back.

My mother watched me from the doorway. For the first few days she brought me broth and soft words. Then she stopped bringing the broth. Then she stopped speaking.

—You can’t go on like this.

—I don’t have the strength to be any other way.

A week passed. I was still curled up in the sheets. One afternoon she sat on the edge of my bed and stroked my hair with a hand that no longer trembled.

—It’s been eight years. You improve and relapse, improve and relapse. Do you remember Pilar and Andrés?

—Yes —I murmured.

They were her lifelong friends. A couple in their mid-fifties, with two grown children. The eldest, Carla, was married, with two kids. The younger one, Tomás, was my age and had gone to school with me.

—They’ve rented a bungalow for the whole month at a campsite, by the reservoir. They’ve invited us to spend the holidays with them. You’re coming.

I looked at her with eyes still damp.

—I don’t know if I can…

—I didn’t ask you. I’m sick of this.

We held each other’s gaze. For the first time in years, I didn’t look away.

—Me too.

—Then we’re going to change. I’ve been far too soft. And lying in that bed you’re not going to get better. Nobody knows us there. You’re going to do what I tell you. My friends agree. You’re going to eat what’s served at the table, you’re going to dress how I tell you, you’re going to behave how I tell you. If you misbehave, I’ll punish you. Either you’re an adult or you’re a child, and for now you’re not an adult.

Something in her voice split me in two. I didn’t recognize the woman in front of me.

—All right.

—Come to the bathroom. I’m going to wax you.

I followed her. She undressed me as if I were five years old, without asking permission, without looking away. I tried to cover myself with my hands.

—Your body is the result of your actions. If you’re ashamed of it, change it.

She sat me on the edge of the bathtub with my legs open and spread the warm wax over my thighs, over my pubic mound, until my pussy was completely bare, smooth, obscenely exposed. She ran her fingers over my lips to tighten the skin before ripping it away, and I clenched my teeth. When she finished, she opened me with two fingers to check that not a single hair remained. I felt the cold bathroom air touch me inside for the first time in years.

—There. Clean, just as when you were born.

I could have done it myself, but by then she treated me like someone incapable. She soaped me, showered me, dried me. I let myself be handled like a broken doll.

—I’m going to pack the suitcases. You’ll start by obeying with that.

I went naked to my room and looked at myself in the mirror. Tiny breasts with very pink nipples already hard from the cold, marked ribs, an ass that looked like an accent at the end of my legs, and between them, the slit of my hairless cunt, still shining with cream. I rubbed my arms to warm myself and got into bed like that, with nothing on top.

***

The next morning, on the chair, I found the clothes she had chosen: a cotton pair of shorts, a sleeveless T-shirt with a smiling star printed on it, and white panties with a little bow. No bra. I put them on without arguing and went downstairs to the kitchen.

Breakfast was milk with cocoa and cookies with little faces. I usually had a black coffee, nothing else.

—Mom…

—Don’t say a word. You don’t get up until you finish it.

I ate it all. Then she made me brush my teeth with the door open and pee with the door open too, to make sure I didn’t throw up. It was absurd and humiliating. Protesting didn’t help me at all.

When we got into the car, she told me to sit in the back. “That’s where children sit.” I didn’t argue.

***

We arrived at the campsite at noon. Pilar, Andrés, Carla and her two children, both already adults, were waiting for us with a barbecue going. I understood right away that they were all in on it together. Andrés smiled from ear to ear when he saw me in the star T-shirt and openly let his gaze drop to my nipples showing through the fabric.

My mother, without raising her voice, kept putting pieces of chorizo and bacon on my plate. I ate everything I could. My stomach, used to emptiness, rebelled. I had to go to the bathroom and vomited with my hand clamped over my mouth. When I came out, my mother was waiting for me in the hallway.

—Again?

—I didn’t want to…

—But you did it. Every action has its consequence.

She didn’t add anything else. The way she didn’t add anything else scared me more than any shouting.

***

After lunch, they suggested going down to the reservoir. My mother went into the bungalow with me and handed me a towel with a head opening, poncho-style, and the bottom half of a swimsuit with childish prints.

—Just this? I don’t do topless, Mom.

—For what you’ve got… if you don’t eat, if you throw up, your body is what it is, and that’s how you’re going. If you complain, you’ll get a spanking.

—What?

—Girls who misbehave get their asses smacked.

She had never laid a hand on me in twenty-two years. Now she was threatening to hit me and put me on display. I ran out of breath.

I put on the swimsuit bottoms. The fabric pinched right in the cleft of my shaved cunt, and every fold showed. My mother started spreading sunscreen all over my back and, without pausing, ran her hands over the front, over my breasts, squeezing them with her open palms, pinching my nipples to spread the cream, as if I were incapable of covering myself. I stared at the floor, burning, feeling a tingling between my legs that humiliated me even more. At that moment Pilar, Andrés and Carla walked in without knocking.

—How are you doing? —asked Pilar, as if nothing were happening.

—Just a minute.

I had covered my breasts with one arm. My mother’s look forced me to lower it and rub sunscreen onto her back, like that, with my whole body on display, my tits out and the little swimsuit marking my cunt. Andrés didn’t take his eyes off me for a second, pretending to look at the ceiling, and I saw the bulge in his swimsuit growing. I finished as fast as I could and threw the poncho towel over myself.

We left the bungalow. The towel left my sides bare and barely covered me to mid-thigh. I knew there was no going back now.

***

The reservoir had a small beach area. The part where we settled was set apart, with reeds and rushes, but not far enough. I took off the towel and sat on the sand. When we started playing ball, my breasts bounced with every movement, my nipples hard from the cold water, bobbing in full view of everyone. A couple passed along the shore. I saw the man cut off the conversation mid-sentence and stare at me openly, his mouth slightly open.

When I turned to reproach my mother, I found Andrés with his phone in his hand, filming me.

—It’s just a family video, don’t worry —he said.

Pilar and he laughed as if it were the most normal thing in the world. My mother fixed me with her stare. With no options, I kept playing.

After a while I asked to get into the water, just to disappear for an instant under the surface. I dove to the bottom and held my breath until my lungs hurt. When I came up, they were already calling me to have a snack.

—Before eating you have to be dry —said Pilar.

My mother dried me off, again like a little girl, rubbing the towel over my tits and between my legs, rubbing my cunt under the excuse of drying it, until I felt the fabric grow damp with something that wasn’t reservoir water.

—Take off the swimsuit —she ordered.

—Mom, not here…

Before I could react, she grabbed the waistband and pulled it down to my ankles. I stood there, in a badly hidden crouch, with my shaved cunt on display for Andrés, Pilar and Carla.

—Mom!

—Until you learn to love yourself, you’re going to get used to it.

—And don’t worry about us —Andrés smiled, and this time he didn’t even pretend not to be looking at my sex.

They put the towels in a circle around the food and I sat with my legs crossed and my hands in my lap, trying to cover at least the slit with my fingers. I felt the three adults’ gazes nailed to my naked body. Andrés licked his lips openly while chewing a piece of omelet.

Behind me I heard footsteps. A young couple. I didn’t look. I felt his shadow cross my back and knew he had seen the curve of my ass and my breasts over my knees. I froze in the most tucked-in pose I could invent, as if that would make me invisible.

***

On the way back to the campsite, my mother only gave me the poncho towel. I begged for something more. She didn’t give in.

—It covers what’s necessary. It’s harder for me than for you to see you like that.

We crossed the common area. Families dining, young people on bicycles, people greeting Carla and Pilar. I smiled while crying inside.

In the campsite park, the girl from the couple at the reservoir showed up with two friends and a boy.

—Hi. You haven’t covered yourself much.

—My name is Irene. This is Diego.

—I’m Nora.

She looked at me with a smile that wasn’t friendly. Before I could react, she opened my towel in front, leaving me exposed from neck to knees, my breasts bare and my hairless cunt in full view of the four of them. Diego laughed and ran his tongue over his lips. Her friends laughed too.

—Damn, she’s even more waxed than us —one of them blurted out.

—You’re a brave girl, I respect that —said Diego, never taking his eyes off my crotch.

I yanked the towel shut. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

***

When we got back to the bungalow, Pilar, Andrés and my mother were having a drink on the porch.

—Nora hasn’t finished her snack. First her punishment.

She called me.

—Lie across my lap. You’re getting ten.

—Mom, I’m twenty-two years old.

—Not here you’re not.

Weeping, I lay face down across her lap. She pulled the towel up to my back, leaving my bare ass exposed in front of Andrés and Pilar. Andrés settled into his chair, glass in hand, eyes fixed on my buttocks. Every slap shook my whole body, and with each blow my legs opened wider and everything showed. Ten. I counted ten, noticing how Andrés’s face reddened and how the front of his trousers tightened. When my mother lifted me up, she snatched the towel away completely.

—Go take a shower.

I crossed the porch naked, my ass burning and my tits out. A family at the table opposite stopped eating to look at me. I went into the bathroom trembling.

I showered alone, and when I came out, dripping wet, Andrés was waiting for me with the towel open in his hands.

—I’ll dry you off.

—That’s not necessary…

—Your mother said yes.

He wrapped me up and started rubbing me with the towel, but very soon the towel fell to the floor and his hands kept moving over my wet skin. He ran his palms over my shoulders, over my back, down to my buttocks and squeezed them with his spread fingers, sinking them into the flesh. I stood still, arms pressed to my sides, staring at the tiles.

—You’re trembling —he whispered.

He turned me to face him. He looked at my breasts, so small he could fit both entirely in one hand, and covered them with both palms, squeezing them, rolling his thumbs over my nipples until they stood up hard as stones. He slid one hand down my flat belly, very slowly, and with the tip of his middle finger parted the slit of my shaved cunt.

—Look how wet you are. That’s not water.

He pushed the finger halfway in. I clenched my teeth and let out a moan that sounded like a small animal. He pulled out his shiny finger and held it in front of my face.

—Lick it.

I opened my mouth. He shoved the finger into my throat and I tasted myself, salty and thick. My legs were shaking. Without taking it out, he shoved me backward against the sink. With the other hand he pulled down his shorts and took out his cock, thick, red, the head shiny with pre-cum.

—Kneel down.

I fell to my knees on the wet floor without thinking. He grabbed the back of my neck and brought my face to his cock. It smelled of sweat, cheap cologne, of an older man. He ran the head over my closed lips.

—Open.

I opened my mouth and he drove the whole cock in with one thrust. I felt the tip hit my palate and then my throat. I ran out of air. He started fucking my mouth with both hands in my hair, in and out, setting the rhythm. I tried to breathe through my nose and gagged on saliva and spit that ran down my chin to my bare tits.

—That’s it, that’s it, suck that cock, girl. Take it like a good little slut.

He pulled the cock all the way out and slapped my lips with it, rubbed it over my cheeks, shoved it back to the hilt. My eyes were wet and my mascara was running, though I wasn’t wearing mascara, it was just the dampness from the gagging. Every time he hit my uvula, I coughed and he took advantage of it to sink deeper.

—Look at me while you suck me.

I lifted my eyes. He was staring down at me, jaw clenched and a crooked smile on his face. He took his cock out of my mouth, made me stick out my tongue and rubbed it all over my face before lowering it to my nipples. He circled them with the tip, painted my breasts with spit and pre-cum, and then shoved it back into my mouth.

—Spit it out. Now suck the balls.

I obeyed. I licked his balls one by one, feeling them tighten in his hand, while he held his cock against my forehead, pulling my hair to position me.

He hauled me up by the hair and turned me against the sink. I saw myself in the steamed-up mirror: red face, swollen mouth, breasts marked with the red prints of his fingers, and behind me Andrés with his hard cock dripping saliva. He kicked my legs apart and stood behind me. He ran the head along the wet slit of my cunt, up and down, bumping against my clit until he made me moan against my will.

—Ask me to fuck you.

—No…

—Ask.

He dug his fingers into my bony hips and pressed the tip against the opening of my shaved cunt.

—Fuck me —I whispered, my voice broken.

—Louder.

—Fuck me already, you bastard.

He rammed it in, all the way to the hilt. I screamed against the mirror. My tight, wet cunt opened around his cock, and I felt the head strike something inside me that made my back arch. He started fucking me with hard, dry thrusts, gripping my waist so thin he could wrap both hands around it, his thumbs almost touching his fingers. My small tits bounced against the edge of the sink with each shove.

—Fuck, what a tight cunt you’ve got. You were made for this.

Each thrust shook my whole body. My feet barely touched the floor. He rammed into me faster and faster, pulling the cock all the way out to the head and driving it back in to the balls. The wet slapping of my juices was obscene in the silence of the bathroom. He put a finger in my mouth and I sucked it like a woman possessed.

—Good girl. Like that, suck my finger while I fuck you.

He yanked his cock out all at once. I was left empty, trembling, my cunt open and throbbing. He turned me around again, lifted me onto the sink, spread my legs and buried his mouth in my cunt. He started licking my clit with his tongue flat, up and down, and then sank his tongue all the way inside. I pressed his head against me and writhed over the cold marble.

—Yes, yes, there, there…

He sucked my clit between his lips, tugging, and shoved two fingers inside me at once, searching for that rough spot deep inside. When he found it, he began pounding it with his fingertip while he licked me. I felt everything rise up through my belly, my thighs tensing, and I came over his face with a muffled howl, squeezing his head with my bony thighs. He kept licking, sucking every drop, until one spasm after another shook me.

He lifted me off the sink, still trembling, and laid me on my back on the floor. He got on top of me, spread my legs wide holding my ankles up by my ears, folding me like a doll, and shoved it back in. From that angle it went all the way in, to the hilt. He fucked me staring at my face, watching how every thrust pulled a moan from me.

—Look at me. Don’t close your eyes. Look at who’s fucking you.

I looked at him. I saw my parents’ friend’s face, a man in his fifties, sweating on top of me, mouth open, giving me cock mercilessly. He spat on my tits and spread the spit with his palm before bending down to suck one nipple while still moving his hips.

—Whose cunt is this?

—Yours —I whispered.

—Louder. Whose?

—Yours. It’s yours.

He sped up. The cock going in and out made a wet, shocking sound, and his balls slapped my ass with every thrust. I felt him swell inside me, felt everything tighten.

—I’m coming. I’m coming inside.

—No, not inside…

—Shut up.

He sank in to the hilt and I felt hot spurts firing into my cunt, one after another, filling me. He stayed inside, trembling, teeth clenched. When he finally pulled his cock out, a thick thread of semen spilled out of me and slid down the slit of my ass to the floor.

He stood up, wiped his cock with the towel, and threw it over me.

—Good girl. Get dressed and come to dinner.

I lay there for a few seconds, legs open, watching his cum keep leaking out of me. I wiped it away with my fingers, almost without thinking, and put them in my mouth. It tasted like him.

The pajamas they’d left me were an old T-shirt that barely reached the top of my thighs. There were no panties. I knew that if I bent over, everything would show. I put it on anyway, with my cunt still dripping semen inside, and went out to the porch.

We all had dinner. The adults laughed. My mother looked at me and knew, without my saying anything, what had happened in the bathroom. Andrés poured himself another drink and winked at me. Pilar smiled as if nothing had happened. I could feel the semen slowly seeping between my thighs, soaking the edge of the T-shirt against the plastic seat.

I finished the whole plate, not leaving a crumb, not getting up to go to the bathroom afterward.

Tomorrow would be another day. I didn’t want to think about what awaited me.