Going Nova: A Wide-eyed Adventure/Chapter 1: Brie Goes Nova
←Prelude: Ivy’s Midnight Tryst
Synopsis: Brie loses control of herself at school. Her father does, too, in his own way.
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Brie woke up with a start as the overhead light in her bedroom flashed on. It went from a darkened cave where she was peacefully sleeping to flaring bright in a moment.
“Time to get up, kiddo!” It was Brie’s dad, Warrick.
Brie quickly pulled the top sheet over herself and groaned. Partly, it was to deny the jarring brightness that interrupted her slumber. Partly, it was because sometime during the night she felt overheated and had stripped naked to try and cool off. But on top of that, her room was very warm and, in her sleep, she had nearly kicked off her sheet. “Da-aad,” she whined.
Warrick gazed at his young daughter and chuckled. “Let’s go. You’re gonna be late for school.” Brie refused to move. “Don’t make me drag you out of that bed,” he challenged. Still she laid there like a pile of laundry. Warrick looked at his watch and sighed. “Okay, you asked for it…”
Brie shot up in bed. “Nooo,” she continued to whine, gripping the end of the sheet. Warrick laughed and grabbed the end of the covering at the foot of the bed and gave it playful a yank. Brie nearly lost her grip on it. “No! Stop, Daddy!”
“You gotta get up, kiddo.” He yanked again.
“I will! I will!” She yanked back.
“Now.” He yanked the sheet again and it came free of her grip. She noticed that she felt very strange as it slid across her body, exposing her bare chest to the humid morning air. It was a strong tingling sensation. She didn’t have much time to consider it, however, as she flailed for the sheet end and grabbed it before it could slide down any further, thus revealing more of her youthful body to her father. She didn’t typically sleep without clothes on, but for some reason that past night, they had just begun to feel intolerable.
“I will! I’ll get up! Just leave!”
Warrick challenged her with a smirk. “Why do I need to leave, kiddo?”
“Because!” she shot back angrily.
“Because why?” he prodded, bemused.
“Da-aad.” He stood in silence, refusing to back down from his daughter’s challenge. “Because… because I’m naked.” She looked down, flushed with embarrassment that he made her say it out loud.
With a chuckle, he said, “You’re such a strange kid. Alright, get your naked butt dressed and downstairs for breakfast. It’s getting cold.”
Warrick turned and shut the door. Brie whipped her pillow at the door, shouting, “And I’m not a kid anymore!” It was a satisfying, if ineffectual, gesture.
Finally alone, Brie slid out of bed. Again, she noticed that the sensation of things felt different on her skin. It felt like the last remaining tingle of the pins-and-needles phase when her legs would fall asleep. She stood in front of her mirror and licked her lips and touched her cheeks, trying to figure out the breadth of this sensation. Her lips seemed a little bit numb and her cheeks had a slight buzz, too, but outward appearances suggested that everything was normal. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she also felt a tightness in her undeveloped chest. Not a painful tightness, just a distracting knot from deep in her center. She shivered.
She then sighed and tried to put it out of her head. She assumed it was some kind of aftermath from the previous night and decided to ignore it and got dressed. She picked out some lace panties that her mom had given her at her ninth birthday and slipped them on. The complexity and delicacy of the fabric against her skin seemed to make the tingle stronger. Curious, she wiggled her hips back and forth. That feels kind of good! she thought. She rubbed her fingers across the lace and up over her tummy. She dragged her nails up lightly over her small chest and out down her arms. When her fingertips connected, she switched hands, now retracing the route down the opposite side. When she got back down to her underwear line, she was feeling blissful.
“Brie!” It was her dad, breaking her out of her reverie for the second time that morning.
“I know, dad, I’m coming!” Putting her curiosity aside, Brie threw on some jeans and a light, billowy top with a wide neck and then headed down the stairs. With each stair, she felt more and more acutely aware of the clothes she was wearing. The top flowed around her scrawny figure as she moved, shooting sparks through her sides, tummy, and especially her nipples. It all seemed to travel into the knot she was feeling in her chest. The areas where her jeans bunched, at her knees and around her upper thighs and crotch felt like tiny little firecrackers going off around her private area. She felt somehow extra-sensitive all over. These feelings were foreign to her and she barely knew what to think. Yet she wasn’t afraid. She was actually feeling pretty good.
Once she sat down at the breakfast table and stopped moving so much, the sensations ebbed and she could think again. Her mom and dad were already seated. “Glad you could make it,” her dad joked. It was the same joke he told her every morning. She just rolled her eyes. She ate her cereal in silence, trying to block out the new sensations she was feeling from her thoughts. But, in attempting not to think about it, it was all she could think about! Every time she moved her arm to scoop up some more cereal in her spoon, her top would shift around her shoulders and chest and contribute to the lightning ball building inside of her. She had no more than a few bites of her breakfast when her mom, Hazel, broke her way into Brie’s daydream.
“Honey, I think it might be time we get you a bra.”
“Mom, what?” Being only nine, Brie had never had a need for a bra in the past. Even now, wearing one would feel like a purely cosmetic decision at best; she had no breasts to speak of. Her chest was always flat, her figure androgynous, like a high fashion model’s. She mostly stayed out of the fire of her peers, but she wasn’t unfamiliar from the jeers of horny boys coaxing her to show them her “mosquito bites”.
“You just might be getting to that point in your life where you need one,” her mother hinted transparently.
Brie didn’t understand, but looked down at her chest to see what her mom could possibly be talking about. Then she saw it. Both of her nipples were standing out very prominently against the slight fabric of the shirt. Brie quickly shrugged her shoulders in embarrassment, shifting the fabric of her top to a looser, more concealing position. “I’ll go change my shirt,” she bristled.
Warrick looked at his watch. “Oops, no time today, kiddo, we gotta go! You can finish your breakfast in the car.”
Her mother smiled warmly and nodded, “We’ll go to the store tonight and pick something out for you.”
Warrick quickly gathered up his daughter’s things, dumped them in her backpack and practically shunted her out the door by her butt. It made her feel more than a little awkward given the sensations continuing to build up inside of her from physical touch. She hopped in the passenger side of the car, pulling the seatbelt over her chest and took in a sharp breath as she felt the fabric strap slide across her flat chest and tummy.
Her dad slammed the car in reverse to back out of the driveway and, as the transmission locked into gear, the frame shook ever so slightly. In Brie’s world, however, it was more dramatic than she ever remembered. Each time he shifted gears, she could feel the rocking of the car, and the sliding of the seatbelt strap over her uniquely sensitive skin. Her insides felt like they were turned up to baking, and a sheen of sweat began to form on her body. On top of all that, the vibrations of the road were traveling up through her seat and she felt a strong tingling emanating up through her bottom and crotch. She became acutely aware of the intricate lace of her panties, amplifying the car’s vibrations all the more.
She was unaware that she was practically panting until her father pointed it out. “Honey, you’re breathing really hard right now. Are you feeling well?” She didn’t know how to answer that. Truthfully, she was feeling better than she ever had in her life. She just wasn’t sure how she should handle it. She closed her mouth and said, “No, I’m fine. I’m just feeling really hot right now.”
“Well, we can take care of that pretty easily.” With that, he hit the button to lower the front-side windows. The wind came blasting through the car, whipping their clothing and hair all around. With her sensitive nerve endings, Brie felt like fire was coursing through her as her hair streaked across her face and her shirt rippled across her chest. She could barely stand the pleasure she was feeling and she moaned aloud. She was frantic, unable to think straight, and nearly in hysterics. She slammed her finger onto the automatic window button to raise it back again and caught her breath.
Her dad noticed her despair. “What’s the matter, kiddo?”
“It’s just,” she stopped to catch her breath, “the wind is too much.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“Okay, well how about the AC, then?” He flipped the switch and frigid air came blasting out onto her face and upper chest. It, too, caused unpleasantly pleasant sensations against her skin, and her nipples stiffened like she had never felt before. Brie whimpered weakly and flipped the vent up so that it wasn’t blowing directly upon her skin. Being out of the direct stream of air gave her some respite from her stimulated nerve endings, and the chilly air did seem to help cool her internal fire down, if only a little bit. The seatbelt was still a problem, though. She reached down and hit the button to unbuckle herself.
“Brie, you have to ride with a seatbelt. It’s the law.”
“I know, Dad, it’s just…” She paused, fidgeting uncontrollably. What was she going to say? That she was nearly hysterical with unexplained pleasure and it was all she could think about right now? And her seatbelt and clothing and seemingly everything around her were the cause of all of it? She was feeling a little bit desperate.
“Yes honey?”
“I know this sounds weird. But… I feel so hot right now. I’m sweating and the AC is on…”
“What’s wrong, kiddo?”
“I don’t know.” Brie lamented, “I think I’m just overheating. Do you think…” She paused again, sure that her father would be incredulous at her request. Or worse. He stopped at a stop sign and turned and looked her in the eyes. She knew she had to pull out all of her tricks to get her way. She turned her big eyes upward to meet his. “Daddy?” she bit her lower lip.
Warrick blushed. He knew his daughter was going for the gold whenever she called him “daddy.” He reached over and brushed the hair out of her eyes. He thought she might have shuddered at his touch. “Yes, kiddo?”
“Oh Daddy, I’m just so hot! I just want to take my shirt off,” the nine-year-old girl blurted out. “Can I do that? Just while we’re in the car, I mean?”
Warrick’s eyes went wide. This was not a request he was expecting. He was not so concerned about seeing Brie topless—he had seen her in various states of undress around the house many times throughout her life—but she had never been quite this blatant before. Especially in a semi-public environment like his car. He didn’t know what to make of it. He knew that this was a potentially embarrassing situation to be caught in, but he also admitted that he was happy to see signs that she was still his baby girl, and simultaneously proud that she still trusted him to ask tough questions like this. Brie looked desperate, almost in pain. He wondered if he should turn around right now and just let her sleep off whatever this was. There was a small part of him that also admitted that this kind of taboo behavior was quite adventurous. She must get this from her mom, he thought to himself.
“Daddy?” She reinforced her request.
He smiled gently, “Sure honey, go ahead.”
Not a second later, the billowing top was over her head, revealing his child’s upper half in what unexpectedly felt novel to his gaze. Her prepubescent chest was almost shining red and her nipples were jutting out like he’d never noticed before. But he was especially shocked when, almost as if without thinking, Brie also unbuttoned her jeans, undid the zipper, and spread open the fly of her pants, exposing her lace panties. He had questioned his wife when she bought them for their daughter earlier that year. He thought they were a little sexy for a third-grader. She merely said that nine was old enough to have them.
Brie leaned back and sighed deeply, throwing her glistening arms over her head leaving Warrick’s eyes free to roam over her unobstructed.
The whole situation was enough to distract Warrick from the fact that Brie still wasn’t wearing her seatbelt. He resumed driving, but again the vibrations of the road continued to cast their spell on the young girl. She squirmed, sighed, crossed her legs, and then uncrossed them, then crossed them again. Her legs slid together and apart and for the first time she noted that her inner thighs were really slick. Was she sweating extra hard down there? It certainly didn’t smell like sweat.
Warrick noticed her fidgeting and asked, “Are you sure you don’t have a fever?”
She couldn’t make eye contact with her father. Not right now. “This doesn’t feel like any fever I’ve had before,” she replied weakly, staring out the side window. Any time he hit a big bump, she would stifle a moan.
Her dad noticed this, too, though he pretended he didn’t. He decided to test what he was hearing, so he drifted the car toward the edge of the road. There were pop-up reflectors there, which caused an especially strong vibration. Brie bit the back of her hand and lifted her ass up off the seat a bit. Warrick continued pretending not to notice her strangely erotic behavior.
All the while, Brie was feeling completely out of control of her body. Every excruciating bump, and every vibration threatened to send her mind off into madness. She wondered if her dad could notice her squirming—if he was riding over the big bumps on purpose—but she was too focused on protecting herself from the out-of-control sensations to be able to call him out on it.
At long last, he pulled up to the drop-off spot for her elementary school. She had made it, but she still had the rest of the day to look forward to with whatever this was bursting out from within her. She reluctantly zipped up her jeans and put her shirt back on, leaned over to kiss her dad on the cheek, and then got out of the car and waved him off. She stood there for five minutes, with her eyes closed, shuddering, doing her best not to move at all. She prayed that the sensations would die down enough for her to concentrate.
Finally, she decided to move, and the situation was indeed better. But It barely lasted. Like a wound not given enough time to heal, the feelings emanating from her nipples into her chest, and the firecrackers lighting up inside of her jeans, quickly grew once more. She was already late for class, so thankfully the halls were empty. She hobbled with pleasure through them to get to her class, whimpering and biting her hand to stifle moans. At last, she found the right room and she practically staggered past her classmates into a seat in the very back. Her entire body was sweating, her white shirt was becoming transparent with moisture, her legs were dripping wet, and she was almost certain everybody around her could smell the musky scent she was giving off.
Once she was seated, however, she heaved a sigh of relief and slumped onto the hard plastic desk-chair. No more seatbelts, no more road vibrations, no more wind. Just sitting. She shrugged the wide neck of her top over one of her shoulders to cool off some more and set about trying to listen. She also tried to ignore some of her fellow students glancing back and staring at her. This was going to be a long class.
Elsewhere, Warrick slammed on the brakes, parking in a nearby alley. He was almost certain his daughter was on the brink of orgasm the entire trip. And half-naked in his car on top of that! He couldn’t control himself. He threw open the glovebox and found a photo of Brie and her friend Elsie playing with a Ouija board he had stashed there a couple years before. Elsie had been Brie’s best friend for years, and she was half a year older than her. In the photo, they both had mischievous smiles on their childish faces, grimacing wickedly at the camera as they attempted to commune with spirits. He had stashed the photo under the pretense that it was a cherished memory of his, but truthfully, it was because he thought young Elsie’s impish smile was kind of sexy. Warrick unzipped his pants and stared intently into the nine-year-old’s eyes. Making a quick decision, he fished out his hard cock and began masturbating wildly.
He knew he shouldn’t be beating off to his preteen daughter’s best friend, but in the privacy of his car, he didn’t care. She was his type—lithe and boyish in proportion, with barely-there breasts (no breasts at all, in her case) yet cute and feminine in her face, with large round eyes and a ready smile—even if she was a child. She was a natural dancer from a very young age, and he always enjoyed watching her at recitals and hip-hop competitions. Brie would sit at his side, both of them cheering her on.
He slicked his whole shaft down with the copious precum oozing from his slit and it wasn’t long before he felt his balls filling up. He imagined Elsie’s little hand on his cock instead of his own.
He glanced over at his daughter in the photo and felt a little awkward that she was in the frame at all. It felt like she was watching him, and judging him for his deviant behavior. As he continued to stroke, however, his mind eased into a familiar sexual indifference. Besides, he considered, it was sort of her fault that he was all riled up in the first place, with her taking off her shirt in the car, and all the wanton gasping.
He looked back and forth between Elsie and Brie and his imagination began to fire up further. He imagined Elsie climbing onto his cock while his daughter looked on, watching as he took her best friend’s innocence. He imagined Brie’s curiosity getting the best of her, so that she would inch closer to Elsie’s panting face. Then, in his mind, the two kids began to make out. Then he imagined Brie was straddling his chest, her young pussy in front of his face. And then suddenly Elsie wasn’t even there anymore. It was just his cum-addled brain and his daughter, him watching her as she engulfed the head of his cock in her tiny mouth. He stared hard at the photo, into his daughter’s mischievous eyes, and that was it.
He burst his load all over the photo, there in the car. He almost embarrassed himself because of how much cum flowed from his cock. It streamed over his hands, the front of his pants, and the steering column.
With the work day looming, he couldn’t savor his orgasm any longer. He quickly wiped off the photo, salvaging it, and tossed it back in the glovebox, then did his best to clean the rest of it up.
He then made his way back home and found his wife, Hazel, heading out the door. He untucked his shirt to conceal the cum stain he had splattered on the front of his pants.
“How was she? She looked kind of distracted this morning,” Hazel asked.
“I’m… not sure,” Warrick admitted, then shrugged, “but if she’s sick, I suppose we’ll hear from her later today.”
“Alright, well, I’m off to work. See you tonight. It’s Friday, I’m planning on some fun!” She winked and, with that, she turned away.
Warrick smirked. Thinking back to the threesome with Ivy they had had early that morning, he was looking forward to some more of his wife’s wily brand of fun.
——
Brie tried to concentrate on her class, despite the haze she was in. Her ears felt like they were full of cotton, trying to shut the world out from her. She slumped against the cool, hard back of the chair, her bare shoulders slicking it down with the sheen of sweat that seemed to cover her whole body in a mist. Her pants felt soggy. She glanced down at her chest and noticed that her shirt was becoming even more transparent with moisture. She could see the color of her flesh coming through, and her nipples were especially prominent.
As her teacher, Mr. Ivarson lectured, she lifted the wide neckline of her shirt to peek underneath. Her chest was ruddy and she fought the urge to touch her breasts, to massage them right there in class. She noticed her breathing was ragged, as her breath cascaded over her sensitive nipples.
She looked up and noticed her teacher was shooting incredulous glances at her and she suddenly felt very self-conscious. Why was she doing this? Why today? Why here in the middle of class? Why could she not ignore these sensations? She put her shirt back in place, but the translucency of the fabric didn’t leave much of her preteen body to the imagination. She was embarrassed, but didn’t know what she could do. She had no way to cover up. Yet somewhere deep inside of her, she was okay with it. Is it so wrong to experience pleasure? she rationalized.
She looked around and noticed the boys around her, and some of the girls, were staring at her. She blushed and smiled nervously. She leaned forward so that her shirt came away from her chest. From this angle, though, she could clearly smell something emanating from between her legs. She felt at once ashamed yet incredibly curious about it.
Suddenly Mr. Ivarson cleared his throat and broke through her reverie. “Alright, I think today is going to be a movie day. You all need distraction from… looking at what’s going on outside the window,” he improvised. With that, he walked toward the back of the room. He stared at Brie as he walked past her. She didn’t dare make eye contact. He dug around in the media closet in the back of the room and pulled out a vintage reel-to-reel movie projector. It was an antique that he liked to use more than the students liked to watch.
He pushed the rickety old contraption right up next to Brie, set up the reels for an old nature documentary, and then said, “Liam, shut off the lights, and Caden close the blinds.” The two boys got to it. Brie was thankful. With darkness, Mr. Ivarson had saved her from the piercing eyes of her schoolmates. But then he turned on the projector.
The clunky piece of technology shuddered to life and Brie’s outlook sank—yet her heart leapt. She was acutely aware of the vibrations of the old projector running immediately to her side. She felt them traveling through the floor, up through the metal tubing of her desk, and shaking the seat upon which she sat. Not enough for most people to notice. But to her, it was like a jackhammer was going off right beside her. The projector ran hot, too, and small fans along the body of the device blew air, seemingly zeroed in on her sensitive body.
Once again, she was lost to the world around her. She breathed sharply, feeling as if at any moment she might go tumbling off the edge into insanity. Her vision tunneled, but she gripped the desk in front of her, trying to pay attention to the animals, cute little ducks, on the film in front of her. The hot projector air blew across her skin and goosebumps crisscrossed her neck and back. She felt as if she was heading toward a kind of point of no return. She shivered and moaned and she hoped nobody could hear her over the sound of the movie and projector machine, but she was unable to know for sure. She dared not look around in the darkness. Meanwhile the vibrations in her seat zeroed in on her little pussy. She squirmed, trying to fight the urge to give in, fighting the urge to touch herself. She put one hand flat on her seat between her legs, trying to stay the tremor. Her legs were slick with her dew and she only felt compelled to rub her crotch against her arm.
At last she gave in. She moved her hand to where her pussy lay beneath her jeans. “Ah! Hhh, oh! Ahh!” She exclaimed aloud. She humped her hips uncontrollably, skidding her desk forward. It crashed into the seat of the boy in front of her, and he turned around. She barely paid him any attention, though. Her other hand went up under her shirt and massaged one of her nipples.
The boy’s eyes went wide as he saw his third-grade classmate lewdly touching herself in class. Brie was aware that she was acting inappropriately, but she somehow couldn’t bring herself to stop. The boy gasped and it drew the attention of the rest of class.
“Brie! Brie,” she heard Mr. Ivarson talking to her, but he was far away and hard to discern. He flipped on the light to reveal her actions. Now every child in the class, and the teacher himself were watching her grind her sensitive pussy against her hand through her jeans.
Each moment of pressure was building to something she didn’t understand. Her hand on her chest was adding to the sensation, sending shocks from her nipple into her body and down into her panties.
She decided then that her shirt once again had to come off, and just as quickly as she had done it in the car, she whipped the sweat-soaked top over her head and onto the floor, mussing her hair, strands of it sticking to her cheek and forehead. The hot projector air now blew across her childish, bare chest unrestricted. Brie turned, topless in the middle of her class, to face the hot fan full on. She bared herself to all her classmates with no regard for her own humility.
The class tittered and laughed with shock and excitement. Some of the boys whooped loudly. Mr. Ivarson clapped his hands angrily, trying to get the scene under his control, like a judge banging a gavel in a rowdy courtroom.
Pants, to Brie, suddenly seemed like an unreasonable obstacle. She leaned back and undid the top of her jeans, splaying it open, exposing her soaked lace panties to every boy or girl with a line of sight. She jammed a hand down into her underwear and felt the slickness she was generating directly from her pussy. Her lubrication made sticky sounds as her fingers sluiced through her folds.
She was doing it right there, for anyone to see. And who was looking, she wondered? The blackness in her vision subsided and she managed enough clarity to glance around and see that, in fact, everybody in the class was watching her gratify herself.
She removed her hand from her panties, but only just to yank the crotch over to the side, exposing her hairless child pussy to the room. As she continued to absent-mindedly scour a particularly sensitive spot just inside the glossy lips of her bald cunt, she caught their wide-eyed stares one-by-one.
She was horrified, humiliated, as she drank in every reaction, yet she was still compelled by a force she didn’t understand to keep on masturbating. Despite her embarrassment, her pleasure-drunk mind only sought ecstasy, no matter the cost.
Finally she locked eyes with Mr. Ivarson in front of her. He grabbed her by her naked shoulders and shook her, trying to snap her out of her delirium. “Brie, Brie, pull yourself together!” She looked him deep in the eyes and managed a weak smirk. Using the last of her strength, she willed her body up toward his, and, craning her neck up, she moaned into his mouth, “I’m sorry. It’s coming from… my cunnyyy!” With that, she moved her lips to his and kissed him. A long, blissful kiss. And that was when it all came crashing down around her.
Her pussy spasmed from the inside and sent a shockwave through her small frame. She cried out, her legs gave way, and she went limp in her teacher’s hands, but her whole body shuddered violently. Electric shocks of pleasure shot from her vagina and out through every limb. In her mind, all concerns and judgement from the outside world disappeared; she only felt bliss. In her pants, she felt a flood of warm liquid spray out of her, over her panties, into her jeans, onto her masturbating hand, and down her legs. Her moans projected her ecstasy into the classroom. Her mouth moved, but the noises coming out of her were not words. She was rocked by wave after wave of warm, rapturous bliss.
At last the child felt the beginnings of what could only be described as relief. The sensations dulled, but then so did her senses. Brie’s world went dark, and she collapsed, half-dressed, in a heap, in the wet streak she had created on the floor of her third-grade classroom.
———
What happened to Brie? Why couldn’t she control herself? And what will her father think? Answers to come in the next chapter.