The Dancer

Stories about girls getting pantsed, stripped and humiliated by anyone or anything.
*Lady Lucia*
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The Dancer, Part Eight

Post by *Lady Lucia* »

PART EIGHT

Naturally, I expected it to be Autumn.

She was the one who hired me, and the one who would be pissed off that I ran away before finishing the job that she was paying me for. Not to mention that I just teased an entire room and then bailed, instead of just putting my foot down and calling it quits right after learning that I was apparently called to be a stripper instead of a dance host. I could already imagine what the girl might say about how I was ruining her New Year’s Eve party, and how I needed to get back out there, etc. etc.

Except, it wasn’t her. Instead, I found myself face to face with Heather. Dark hair, tall and slender, and dressed just as scantily as Autumn and her friends. She and I used to be on the same dance team in high school, but she ended up pursuing a more safe major. There wasn’t any bad blood between us, mostly, save for the fact that I usually got the better parts and positions on the team. But we also weren’t friends; team solidarity is about as close as we got on that front. Long story short, I had no idea if she was here as an ally or an enemy.

Letting the door click closed behind her, Heather said, “Looks like I was right.”

Right about what? I wanted to ask, but I held back. My old teammate hadn’t yet made it clear why she had followed me up here. For now, I decided to ignore the cryptic comment. She could elaborate if she wanted to; or not. “Not now, Heather,” I said. Even though it was just us two girls, I crossed my arms over my bra-clad chest. Way too belatedly, I realized that it didn’t matter if my top was missing. I was in Autumn’s bedroom, which meant that there had to be something around I could wear for the time being. “Look, can I borrow your phone? Please?”

Heather just scoffed. “No. Of course not. I’m not going to trust some stripper with any of my things. I’m just here to bring you back downstairs.”

Not on my side, then. “I’m not going back. This was all a huge misunderstanding.” And a huge mistake, on my part. “The only place I’m going is home.”

“Mm hmm. So you say.” Heather placed a hand on her hip and gave me a not so subtle once over from head to toe, “This is a good look for you, Bella. Though it was better when your bra was stuffed with bills. We should put those back in before you start stripping again.”

“Heather, you’re not listening,” I said. My hand remained firmly clasped around the stack of cash recently retrieved from my bra cups; probably the only payment I’d be receiving tonight. Something told me that Autumn wouldn’t give me partial credit. “I’m done. End of story.”

“You know, all those boys are going to love rewatching their videos of you. But me? I think I’m good. The fairer sex never really did it for me. Although it would be such a waste to just delete everything. I mean, I took a ton of pics. And damn, girl, your cleavage is something else when you bend over. I’m surprised your bra managed to hold those things in.”

I couldn’t help but blush at the memory of taking my skirt off, or perhaps she was talking about the lap dances. My boobs weren’t even that big! Just solid C cups, though I suppose dancing in just a bra might tell a different story from the right angle. “Heather-”

“I took a few videos, too,” she said, with an idle smile, “You know, phones these days are pretty amazing. Everything is so crisp and clear. And that skimpy little thong didn’t leave much to the imagination, did it?”

“I-” Only I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Heather kept talking over me.

“Hmm, I wonder what your university would think of this kind of behavior? My school makes it so easy to communicate with all the professors. I mean, you can literally go to any department and get the email address of anyone. Or, if you were interested, of everyone. How about yours, Bella? Does your school’s website make things just as convenient as mine?”

Oh my God, she wouldn’t!!

Just imagining how that might play out was a trip. It would be a nightmare. For the ones that mentioned it, I’d have to deal with a mortifying conversation. And for those that kept it to themselves, I could already picture the sideways glances and the silent judgment. Evidence of me stripping wouldn’t get me expelled, but I’d lose all respect for using my talents in such a way. Especially since a number of expressions and movements were borrowed from things I learned from them. Honestly, I’d rather have friends and family see me ‘performing’ in such a way. At least then, I could lie and come up with some story about it being an experimental piece or something. There would still be judgment in one form or another, but at least I’d have a flimsy excuse in my back pocket. My teachers, however, wouldn’t be so gullible.

“Heather, please,” I replied. All the wind was immediately knocked out of my sails. Less than a minute ago, I was finally frustrated enough to have a backbone about this whole stripper thing. But with my education, and potentially career, on the line, I found myself on my back foot and poised to be easily knocked over. “You can’t.”

“Can’t I?” she smirked, “Tell you what, Bells. If you do what I say for the rest of the night, then we’ll talk. Think you can handle that?”

The rest of the night? I couldn’t write a blank check like that! “But-”

“But nothing. Choose now, girl. Are you going to go home, or are you going to do whatever I say?”

Swallowing hard, I reluctantly answered the only way that gave me a chance of keeping this contained to my home town.

“I’m going to do whatever you say . . .”
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Re: The Dancer

Post by Anonymoose »

Very glad you’ve come back to this story Lucia. Also, here’s hoping the blackmail angle maybe motivates the narrator into getting her tits out (at least). Fun story either way though, great work
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The Dancer, Part Nine

Post by *Lady Lucia* »

PART NINE

I had to do anything Heather said. 

Since I barely knew the girl, I had no idea what to expect. Was this belated revenge from high school, just because she didn’t get to star in as many dances? Or was it just opportunistic bullying, just because she could? At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter. I was at her mercy.

Heather began with, “Take your skirt back off.”

She said it so casually, save for a hint of smugness. The tone of voice itself made me want to scream at her, as did the idle smile on her face, but I couldn’t do anything but obey. My reputation and my future depended on it, as I needed my instructors as references down the road. I narrowed my eyes in annoyance, to at least show that I wasn’t happy about this, but did as she said. With none of the bravado from the first time around, back when I was playing the part of the featured stripped at Autumn’s party, I merely yanked the garment down and let gravity finish the job. Assuming that she’d want it all the way gone, I stepped one foot at a time out of the dark gray number that was pooled around my feet for the second time in less than ten minutes. 

Kicking it aside, I put a hand on my hip and tried to pretend that the exposure didn’t bother me. “Is that it?” Maybe challenging her was a mistake, but I couldn’t help it. I was less frustrated at her, and more frustrated at myself for digging such a deep hole instead of just leaving when Autumn first pressured me to stay. 

“It’s a start,” Heather shrugged. She held out her hand, “Now, give me all that lovely dirty money you earned. We need to put it back where it belongs, and strippers don’t do that themselves.”

She was referencing Autumn’s degrading explanation from downstairs. “Fine.” Picking up the stack of cash I had stashed on the nearby desk, I handed them to Heather.

Plenty of girls during my ‘show’ earlier had enjoyed sliding the bills into my bra. With the boys, it was a chance to briefly touch my bare chest along the way. Disgusting, and a total invasion of privacy, but at least they were predictable. When it came to the fairer sex, however, it was a lot more complicated. In Heather’s case, or in Autumn’s, it was all about the dominance that amused them. The others were all over the place in terms of motivation, as it was obvious that this was their first stripper experience. Mine too, of course. 

I wasn’t particularly into girls, which made it difficult to say which gender I preferred in terms of who got to stuff money into my bra. Normally I’d choose girls, as my indifference would make it fine, but I’d almost rather have pervy boys than a girl like Heather. 

“Hold still, Bells,” she said. 

Unnecessary.

Once again doing as I was told, I just scowled at her as she slid the first bill underneath my right bra cup. Alternating left and right, she added all the money I had made from stripping and giving lap dances downstairs, except the blackmail she was dangling over my head gave her the power to break the rule I had established during those dances. Heather cupped one of my breasts and gave a hard squeeze after adding yet another dollar bill.

“HEY.” I snapped. Instantly slapping her hand away, I take a step back, “What the fuck, Heather?”

“I need to make sure they’re going to stay in place,” she said. With an eye roll, naturally. “And I told you to hold still. Strike one, Bells.”

“It’s Bella.”

“That’s strike two. Hold still, and shut up.” 

I pursed my lips and resisted the urge to reply. Heather was still making the rules here, and I had to play along. I was sure that ‘strike three’ wouldn’t mean a mass e-mail to my instructors, but she definitely had the power to make my night worse in other ways.

Heather got back to work. In a matter of minutes, my cleavage was marred by a countless amount of dollar bills. I could feel the problem before I saw it, though I glanced down to verify. Unlike the haphazard way that a bunch of random strangers had tipped me for my stripping services, Heather overlapped the bills in a dangerous manner. My C cups were barely touching the bra at all, as the doubled and tripled bills had been pushed more deeply between the bra and my boobs than before. While it made everything tighter around my chest, there was also less friction. It was fine while I was standing still, but the wrong move could potentially cause my breasts to pop out of the cups if I wasn’t careful. 

Had Heather done that on purpose? Or did she just enjoy the sight of how slutty her handiwork made my chest look?

Either way, she wasn’t done yet. With that same smug expression, Heather slipped a folded bill into the waistband of my black thong.

Since I had fled the scene in the living room seconds after removing my skirt, no one had gotten a chance to try this out on me. Honestly, I couldn’t say if it had even crossed my mind as a possibility. Lightly gasping in surprise, I didn’t get a chance to voice my surprise before she beat me to the punch. “Come on, Bells. This is a better look for you. Trust me.”

Trust her. As if.

Most of the bills were already in my bra, but Heather had saved a handful to add to my underwear. And then, adding insult to injury, she showed me the $20 Autumn had given me, as well as a handful of 5s and 10s from others along the way. 

Teasingly putting those in her own bra, she said, “Agents get 90%, right?” she said, with a wink.
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The Dancer, Part Ten

Post by *Lady Lucia* »

PART TEN


Just like that, I was back downstairs.

Hand in hand with Heather, though there wasn’t any reason for her to keep a grip on me. I had already made my choice. I was mostly bothered by the seemingly friendly and casual way her fingers laced between mine, when she and I were anything but friends. And, while I’d never admit it out loud, I was also really annoyed that she took so much money. Money that I had earned, at the cost of degrading myself.

While most of the return journey was a willing one, my pace subconsciously slowed as we neared the living room. Was I really about to go back out there? Strut my stuff on the stage and give countless more lap dances to strangers and old classmates? Apparently so, because Heather gave a hard yank on my arm to ‘encourage’ me to turn the corner with her.

We were met with a strange combination of positive and negative reactions to my arrival. Half the room clearly didn’t appreciate the fact that I ran away and spoiled the show, but the other half was glad it was going to continue. The dark haired girl I was attached to, however, had a plan to win the others over. Walking me over to the DJ, Heather grabbed the microphone Autumn was using before, then changed course to bring us both onto the wide coffee table that served as the makeshift stage.

“Hey, be nice!” Heather exclaimed. She stood on the elevated surface with me, speaking into the mic as we remained positioned side by side, hand in hand. “Bella just got a little stage fright. This is only her sixth time stripping, by the way, and her first time doing a private party! You want her to keep going, right?”

This earned more cheers than before, while I did everything in my power to keep my jaw from dropping. Something about putting a number on it made my fake identity for the night feel a lot more real. Suddenly, I had a ‘backstory,’ and who wouldn’t believe her? I was a dance major, after all. And everything I had done so far only breathed life into the lie, as did the image of me standing in my lingerie with a bunch of dollar bills stuffed inside. I nervously scanned the sea of faces, spotting Autumn in her green bra in the same armchair I had given her a lap dance in. She seemed more than content to let Heather run the show in her stead.

Going on, Heather said, “Funny story. Bella had a bit of a crush on me in high school. Unfortunately for her, I’m super straight, but who can blame her? Be honest, people. Who else had a bit of a crush on me when I wore those short shorts and danced my heart out?”

Once again, there were a good amount of cheers coming from the crowd. It was true. Not the part about the crush; our dance team uniforms didn’t exactly leave much to the imagination, and Heather was objectively hot. Besides, it was a confident girl polling a big audience. Even people in the room who didn’t know her were probably part of the response just from the mental image of an attractive girl wearing skimpy shorts and flaunting her body.

As for me, I was mortified. Not just from once again being the center of attention while half naked, but also from the implication that I was into girls. There’s nothing wrong with any given sexuality, but that didn’t mean that I wanted to be seen as gay or bi when I was only into guys! I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but Heather was already running with it.

“Anyway, it’s New Year’s, and Bella definitely needs a midnight kiss! So, any girls interested? Let me know, and we’ll let our sexy stripper pick one of you at random. Sorry, boys. You’ll just have to enjoy the show. Okay, Bells. On with the show!”

Just like that, Heather let go of my hand and hopped off the stage. Taking that as a cue, the DJ turned the music back up, and both Heather and Autumn gestured for me to get to it.

The dancer within me was at least able to begin slowly moving my hips to the beat, but the external me was stiff and unable to commit to much more than that. I was going to have to kiss a girl?! It had been awkward enough straddling a few members of my own sex to give them the lap dance they paid for, but that hadn’t meant anything. It was all for show, and I was honestly guessing that most of the girls outside of Autumn had done it more for the attention, and/or to tease and treat the nearby guys. Not that a kiss would mean anything either, of course, but that was something so personal. It would be a notable first of mine, witnessed by Autumn, Heather, and a sea of other witnesses. And it would be caught on camera and video, too.

But there was the other potential fate–having all my instructors see me using my talents for something so unprofessional and improper. The thought of that alone got me moving in the meantime, and I began to work my body to the beat. This, at least, felt familiar and more comfortable than the alternative. I’d much rather be dancing by myself than giving a dance to literally anyone in the current crowd. Dancing in a thong, however, wasn’t quite the same as dancing in short shorts. I was keenly aware of how basically the entirety of my ass was on display to the whole room, which made it a lot more difficult to get lost in the music.

I tried to meet eyes with Autumn, and even considered going over to give her another lap dance if it meant we could share a private word, but I never got the chance. One of the boys in the front row stood up and walked over to slip a dollar bill into my thong, which reminded everyone else that they could do the same.
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The Dancer, Part Eleven

Post by *Lady Lucia* »

Author's Note: Ashley and Autumn are the same person. The updated version of the story on my website uses 'Autumn,' and I haven't had the time to go back and edit every single use of 'Ashley' on here.


PART ELEVEN


That was new.

The last time I was on the ‘stage,’ my skirt had been on. Now I was in a thong, however, and Heather’s single dollar bill that she tucked in the waistband of my underwear while we were upstairs was an easy visual that others could do so as well. Once one guy took the initiative, plenty of others followed suit.

I was a proper stripper, strutting my stuff for money. For a moment, I thought that bills being slipped into my thong would be better than my bra. At best, my cleavage had been brushed with each new hand. At worst, there had been a number of ‘accidental’ touches and squeezes during the process of situating the dollar. I’d much rather people touch my hips and thighs than my boobs, so I figured this might be a good change of pace. However, the thong presented an ordeal I hadn’t been prepared for, pretty quickly crushing my hopes for a silver lining amidst my greater exposure to dozens of college students. Unlike my bra, my underwear didn’t give me the opportunity to see everyone’s approach. Those in front of me, sure. Even while swinging my hips and moving to the music, I could keep an eye on my most private area and make sure no one roamed too far south when adding another bill to the growing collection.

My backside was a different story.

I figured out pretty quickly that I wasn’t always going to be prepared for someone new to walk up. While one person was pushing a dollar into my already stuffed bra cups, I found myself totally caught off guard when I was touched from behind. Slightly jumping as a feminine hand pulled at the waistband of my thong, I froze for a second in fear of losing my underwear entirely. Instead, she merely put a bill into place and allowed the fabric to snap back into place. To make matters worse, whatever girl it was ended things by giving one of my mostly bare cheeks a sharp slap.

Squeaking more in surprise than pain, I could only pray that no one heard the meek sound over the loud music. Autumn was quick to grab the microphone and remind me to keep dancing, as my previously fluid movements had temporarily grinded to a halt. Forcing a confident smirk back on my face despite how degraded I felt, I began working my body to the beat like everything was fine. Though I had managed to keep up the ‘no touching’ rule during the lap dances earlier, that concept was destroyed with one little spank. Now, every time someone walked up to ‘pay me’ from behind, I had to deal with an exploratory squeeze and/or a slap to go along with the bill that was added to my thong.

Every time, I let it happen. I just kept dancing and wishing that there was a clock nearby so I could more efficiently count down to the end of this violating turn of events. Eventually, my chest got a little more action as well, as a few guys were emboldened by what was happening on my helpless rear. None of them went so far as to fully grope me, though I had already dealt with that a few times already. Instead, their hands lingered in my bra cups, fingers exploring my bare skin for way too long before leaving their cash behind. And, instead of slapping them away and verbally berating them, I simply met their eyes with a flirty smirk and acted like I was enjoying it.

A proper stripper, indeed. Thanks to Autumn, and then Heather. And, of course, to my own naivety and total lack of a backbone.

Thankfully, my former classmates were content to watch me get loaded up with bills, and there was never a directive to start with the lap dances again. A small mercy, though I had long since forgotten what was coming.

“Alright, it’s time to see who gets the midnight kiss!” Autumn announced.

The DJ turned the music back down to a more normal volume, and I looked at her in shock as I finally came back to reality. Even with all the wandering hands, I had still managed to disassociate the inappropriate touches by losing myself in the music and the role I was playing. Without the pounding music to assist with that, however, I began thinking about just how exposed I was. Especially on my backside, with only a strip of fabric between my otherwise bare cheeks. Out of pure reflex, I raised my arms to cover myself, to the instant displeasure of the crowd.

“Arms down, Bella!” Autumn snapped. Instead of the bubbly blonde personality she had when I first arrived, this was a lot more harsh and demanding. A little more slurred, too, after a good amount of New Year’s Eve partying.

I could feel everyone’s eyes fixated on me, which made it almost impossible to re-expose my more private areas. “But-” I began, trying to find my voice. As usual, there were SO many cameras, though it’s not like they were going to capture anything new at this point. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true, if this ‘midnight kiss’ was happening. Technically, Autumn did mention it over the phone, but she had totally played it off as a joke at the time.

“Or would you prefer to go home in what you’re wearing right now?”

There was a bit of laughter and jeering throughout the room at that comment, and I immediately felt my face heat up at the thought of driving home in just my underwear. As much as I didn’t want to obey, I reluctantly lowered my arms and let everyone see me again. It was a miracle that my bra and thong were still intact. At this point, I could feel the fabric starting to give, especially down below.
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The Dancer, Part Twelve

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PART TWELVE

Luckily, I had worn more practical undergarments, as this was supposed to be a dance gig and nothing more. Still, I was nervous about the waistband tearing and could only imagine how loose underwear would make a bad situation worse. With how much I had already suffered through wandering hands, something told me that any number of the drunk and horny guys present would react in a less than pleasant way to something like that.

“Better,” Autumn said.

A wave of murmurs in the crowd was painfully telling. They were picking up on the fact that I was stuck doing whatever Autumn told me to do, rather than simply being the stripper I was hired to be. It was a bit of a revelation for me as well, now that I was on the spot in front of so many former peers of mine. I wanted so badly to leave right then and there, but I didn’t know where any of my things were. No keys to drive myself home, no phone to call a friend to pick me up. With Heather involved, I was also in way too deep to flee for a second time, even if I had the means.

Autumn walked over to me with a cheap plastic New Year’s hat full of folded up slips of paper, holding it up so I could reach it from the table without too much trouble. “Now, whoever you pick gets a kiss at midnight. Let’s see who the lucky girl is,” she said. In a much quieter tone, she added, “And if it’s not an amazing kiss, you’re not getting your clothes back.”

It was such a simple threat, and this was the second time she had used it in a matter of seconds. As repetitive as it was, however, it was still perfectly effective. My house was miles away, and it was cold outside; did Autumn even know about the other reason I needed to stay? I could only hope that the original deal was still in place–I was only supposed to be the party’s ‘stripper’ until midnight. Just one awkward girl kiss to round out the mortifying night, and then I could be done.

I reached into the hat and pulled out a slip of paper. “Umm . . .” I recognized the name immediately. Every time it seemed like the night couldn’t get any worse, something else proved that it very much could. My face flushed even more than before, as I was already flustered from having to stand half naked for the whole room without the pounding music to distract me.

Autumn took the slip from my hand. Upon seeing the name, she smirked. “Zoey!” she called out, to a few gasps from the crowd.

Autumn’s younger sister leaped up from one of the sofas, her lips pursed in a small smile that was reminiscent of the older blonde’s expression who just called her name. The girl was literally still in high school; I knew so, because Zoey was on the dance team as well. She was a junior when I was a senior, which meant she was halfway through her last year there. While Autumn had the obnoxious ‘hot girl’ look, Zoey’s features were more cute in comparison.

She might have had a more innocent appearance from the neck up, but her crop top and tight jean shorts were evidence that she didn’t mind flaunting her body at a crowded party. I also vaguely knew Zoey from practice, and she certainly wasn’t shy. “You SO picked me on purpose,” Zoey said. She stepped up onto the table next to me, to the cheers of everyone else. Once she was on my level, I was surprised to see that we were almost exactly the same size. Like, not just in height.

“Please. I didn’t even know you entered the raffle, sis! You are eighteen, right?”

“As of a month ago,” Zoey grinned. She tossed her hair back, then looked right into my eyes, “Although if I knew Bella was into girls, I would have made my move sooner.”

“You don’t even like girls!” Autumn exclaimed, “It’s just a phase.”

“Tell that to the girl I fucked last week.”

It dawned on me way too late that they were just playing the crowd, instead of actually bickering as sisters. Every reply caused some kind of amused reaction, especially from those that actually knew Zoey. She was a total flirt, and been openly bisexual for years. Obviously, Autumn would know that, and was just echoing the cliché adult phrase for such things.

“Do you want to fuck Bella?” Autumn asked.

“Stop stalling, sis!” Zoey replied. I could tell by the look on her face that she wasn’t deflecting. If anything, she was just getting impatient. The need to be the center of attention certainly ran in their family. “Start the music.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Walking over to the guy who had been DJing all night, Autumn placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered something in his ear.

A few seconds later, that same fucking remix of ‘I Kissed A girl’ started playing.

It was one thing when I was giving a lap dance to Autumn, but the song was much more fitting for what I was about to do with her younger sister. Any hopes of getting my blush to go away were dashed when I looked into Zoey’s eyes and fully realized that I was about to make out with her in front of everyone. Turning beet red, I totally froze.

She didn’t seem as bothered. “Come on, Bells.” Starting to sway her hips, she took my hand and tried to get me back to the effortless dancing that we both knew I was capable of doing. “It’s just one song. Look.” She nodded her head towards the TV across the room.

11:57.

Just three more minutes, and this would all be over.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed a smirk on my own face and began moving to the music.
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The Dancer, Part Thirteen

Post by *Lady Lucia* »

Author's Note: A fitting post for New Year's Eve, perhaps!

P.S. Bailed on the new website; this one is compiled back one my main one linked below.

-----------------------
PART THIRTEEN

I really had to fall back on my training as I faced Zoey on the table that was our makeshift stage.

Tuning out a crowd was something I was capable of doing, as was matching my expression to the mood of whatever dance I was doing. The blur of an audience, however, was not quite the same as being face to face with someone. There was no way to ignore the blonde girl in front of me, especially as she gazed at me with flirty eyes and a smirk of her own.

This was about to happen. I was about to kiss an eighteen year old girl.

She was still in high school. I was very much straight. “Zoey . . . ” I started to say, as she brushed her shoulder length blonde hair out of her face without once breaking eye contact.

As a competent dancer herself, she gave just the right pull on my hand that had me following on instinct. Before I knew it, I was being turned around. Zoey put her hands on my hips, pressed her chest into my back, and began swaying left and right to grind me. I let it happen, once again wanting to fake confidence in front of everyone in the name of making it to midnight with no further complications. “Here’s the deal, Bella,” she whispered in my ear. Her hands traced up and down my bare sides as she idly explored my smooth skin while simultaneously teasing the audience, “You need to strip me until we match.”

“What?!” I gasped, whisper-yelling the question for her and hoping no one else heard the horrified question over the pounding music. Using skills of my own, I took her hands off of me without making it seem too forced, then swiveled around so I could face her. Keeping up appearances, I placed my hands on her shoulders and ran them all the way down her back until I was holding her hips. Moving my own body to the music, and dancing closely with her as well in a way that no doubt was exciting to all the horny guys I had given lap dances to, I met Zoey’s eyes again and muttered, “That’s not part of this.”

“I’m Autumn’s sister,” Zoey said. Giving me a wink, and looking a lot more devious than her deceptively cute appearance seemed capable of when I first met her, she placed her hands just below my breasts. Shifting up so her thumbs and index fingers nudged the base of my breasts through the bra, she leaned forward so our faces were dangerously close together. “So it’s kind of like we both hired you, right?”

That’s- No, that wasn’t right. My movements slowed for a moment as I tried to discern whether or not Autumn had drawn Zoey’s name on purpose. Or if this was just a really unfortunate coincidence that worked out in both their favor. “Zoey-”

“Dance with me, Bella!” The young blonde glided her hands up with no warning and fully palmed my breasts. She didn’t squeeze, but her physical presence alone was enough to make me tense up. Wrong. SO wrong. Thankfully, despite professing that she was into girls earlier, Zoey didn’t violate me like the audacious guy earlier. Instead, she moved away from my chest as easily as she had arrived. Fingertips grazing upwards, she landed her hands behind my head. “Come on. Let’s make it sexy for the boys.”

“Okay, okay,” I whispered, thoughts racing through my head and a healthy dose of panic still coursing through my body. It was daunting enough to be kissing the girl in . . . what, less than two minutes now? But to strip her beforehand? It was pretty clear that she wasn’t just talking about dancing inappropriately close to each other. At the same time, I thought about my own situation–how exposed I was, in just my bra and thong; both were also still stuffed with cash, which made a nip slip or a waistband tear below dangerously possible. And I was far away from home without my keys or a ride until I found my things.

Before I let myself overthink it, I shifted my hands up from Zoey’s hips until I could feel her bare midriff. Not lingering, I moved upwards until I could fiddle with the hem of her crop top. Time wasn’t on my side at the moment, and there was a very real chance the girl could whine about me to Autumn and make the end of my night more difficult. Instead of teasing, I simply began pulling it up.

Zoey gracefully raised her arms above her head, still swaying to the music with the occasional sharp movement to match the heavy beat. All the while, she stayed beyond close to me, occasionally letting her chest rub up against mine as I stripped her top off. The crowd cheered us on, of course, and I lifted the top up and over her head before I could lose my nerve. Zoey’s raised arms smoothly came back down, and she took a moment to fix her short blonde hair. She clearly wasn’t shy at all about showing her cleavage and mostly bare top half to such a big crowd. I could see her C cups practically spilling out of the white lace bra, but she just kept moving to the music. I reminded myself to do the same, trying to make my body match the beat, all while stripping this girl I barely knew.

“And my shorts, Bella,” she said. In one fluid motion, her hands floated from the ends of her hair to the sides of my breasts so she could hold me nice and close again. “Not much time left! Don’t you want to see all of me before our kiss?”

I wasn’t like that, but there was no time to get into those details. It was almost 11:59 PM, and apparently Zoey and I both had to be in our lingerie before midnight. “Hold still,” I hissed. Somehow, I kept the idle smirk on my face, but my eyes narrowed ever so slightly. I was still the older girl, and didn’t need the shameless lesbian flirting directed at me.

Barely one minute to strip Zoey the rest of the way down, and give her my first ever girl kiss.
MissAriel
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Re: The Dancer

Post by MissAriel »

I've been enjoying this story for a long time. I only recently made an account here, but really, the writing is exquisite. I love the way you gradually move Bella into acceptance as a stripper and take away her agency as it gets closer to midnight. Every time she tries to take back some control, someone like Autumn or Heather slaps her back down. And now even Autumn's little sister is having a go.

A fitting time to post the new chapter, too. Crossing my fingers that something really exciting happens at midnight. Happy New Year. 🎇
See my collection of stories here: MissAriel's Story Archive
*Lady Lucia*
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The Dancer, Part Fourteen

Post by *Lady Lucia* »

PART FOURTEEN

Zoey wasn’t making it easy.

Since we were right up against each other, the only way down to her waist would be putting my face right into her cleavage on the way down. But what choice did I have? We were running out of time. And, with the way Zoey was sensually holding me close by the sides of my breasts, I couldn’t simply step back to get the job done. Cringing at how it was going to look for the audience who all were under the impression that I liked girls, I placed my hands on the young blonde’s hips and began lowering myself along with her shorts.

Sure enough, she decided to ‘help.’ Abandoning my boobs in order to guide me along, Zoey pulled my head forward and simultaneously jutted out her chest. Now that she was just in a bra, I ended up buried in her cleavage and blushing up a storm until she loosened her grip. I’m sure it was hot for the boys who enjoyed watching two girls doing such things, but it didn’t do anything for me. And, instead of squirming in discomfort, I had to do the counterintuitive thing and keep the show going. Slightly rolling my hips and making a show of grazing my lips against the exposed part of her breasts, I continued doing whatever it took to lean into the nightmare these girls had concocted for me. Anything to rip off the bandaid and get the whole thing over and done with.

I bent at the hips and quickly yet smoothly pulled Zoey’s tight jean shorts all the way down her legs. Not only was there barely a minute left until midnight, but I knew that any hesitation on my end would potentially land my face in her crotch. From the way my thong rode up a little, I knew that everyone behind me once again had a perfect view of my practically bare ass as I bent over, but did it even matter? Everyone had seen enough of me throughout the evening that another promiscuous pose wouldn’t make a huge difference. Once the shorts were pooled at Zoey’s ankles, I stood back up in a less than sexy way in the name of speed. Meanwhile, she kicked the shorts off her feet, clearly not as concerned as I was about whether or not they would disappear in the crowd.

“Now grind me. And feel me up!” Zoey practically ordered. She winked at me, and kept her voice low enough that only I would hear it over the pounding music. Before I could utter a single word of protest, she swiveled on her heel and backed up, pushing her ass up against me. I almost lost my balance, but managed to grab her hips more on reflex than anything else. Belatedly remembering that this was a performance, I pushed a confident smile back on my face as I reluctantly grinded left and right with the lingerie clad girl. Not playing along could result in my clothes being kept from me, as Zoey could easily sway her older sister. So I sucked it up and went for it. Letting my hands drift up her bare midriff, I cupped the sides of her boobs and hoped that would be enough.

Obviously, it wasn’t.

Zoey took my hands in her own. She guided me until I was fully holding her breasts, then pressed me down for a squeeze. My palms were mostly just on her bra cups, but my fingers ended up sinking into the bare curves above. “Like you mean it, Bella!” And then she let go, dropping her hands to roam my thighs as she danced against me. This time, I didn’t have the excuse that she was leading me. Swallowing my pride, if there was even any left at this point, I gave a hard squeeze to Zoey’s boobs. And, as I tried to stay in the moment with my dancing, I continued to grope her over the bra. It was hard not to notice some of the guys in the room appreciating the latest turn of events, while the girls in my view seemed either amused or judgmental. At Zoey’s directive, I leaned forward and sank a deep kiss into her neck when she offered it to me.

“Switch,” Zoey whispered a few seconds later. I don’t know why she bothered telling me, since she just began leading the maneuver herself. Pivoting while brushing my hands off her chest, the blonde slid past me on the table-stage. The way she bumped me almost caused me to fall off, until she grabbed my hips from behind to save me from the lack of balance she had caused in the first place.

Before I knew it, she was pulling me into her. I tried to keep my expression the same as I had been doing all night, though keeping a sultry smirk was difficult when I was screaming on the inside. This was not like me. At ALL. And yet here I was, acting like a lesbian slut with Autumn’s eighteen year old sister. Hardly thinking twice about it, I began grinding my ass against Zoey, keeping with Katy Perry’s beat. Just like I had done with her, Zoey glided her hands up from my hips and reached her hands around to grab my boobs. And I let her. Unlike my reluctant approach, the blonde dance-embracing me from behind didn’t bother with sideboob. She went right for it, grasping my breasts with a much harder opening squeeze than I had given her.

My lips parted in shock, which I could only imagine looked like something a lot more damning to everyone watching. She was- Zoey was . . . Before I could come to terms with how experienced and effective her touch was, the girl yanked out all of the cash from both halves of the bra with one hand, and used her other hand to give another assertive squeeze over one of the cups, this time pushing in with her thumb to tweak my nipple through the fabric.

“Thirty seconds!” a male voice yelled, to a cheer from the rest of the room.
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The Dancer, Part Fifteen

Post by *Lady Lucia* »

Part Fifteen

Twenty-nine seconds, and I was going to be kissing a girl.

Somehow, this whole ordeal had been twisted into me dreading the very time that was supposed to mark the end of me demeaning myself by pretending to be a stripper. Speaking of reprieves turning into things being worse than they were before, I immediately lost the mental countdown I had started when Zoey gave a sharp pinch to one of my nipples before retreating out of my bra cups. That should have been good, but I learned why she stopped groping me a moment later.

The eighteen year old slightly pulled away from my body, and deftly undid the clasp of my bra.

I let out a light gasp, but immediately regained my composure. Trying to look completely calm and comfortable, I prayed that the idle smirk on my face was still selling that I wasn’t freaking out about all this. My chest was still covered, but only just. The now loose bra cups shifted here and there on my chest as my unfettered boobs slightly swayed with every little movement. I wasn’t dancing as much due to the risk that it posed to my undone bra, but it’s not like I could freeze in terror. My body remained fluid, or at least as fluid as I could manage under the circumstances. This had gotten even more degrading and slutty than before, but I still clung to the idea that I shouldn’t be showing the room that I was beyond mortified. Half naked and confident was still better than half naked and embarrassed, right?

Zoey firmly gripped my hips and pulled me back into her. Once I got the unspoken directive, I began more actively grinding my backside against her, isolating my hips as best as I was able from my upper half. She then traced her fingertips up my sides until she was poised to return to the position she had before. Reaching under my loose bra cups, she gripped my bare breasts with her hands and gave a hard squeeze to both of them.

I couldn’t help but gasp again. She was clearly going for more pain than pleasure. “Zoey!” I hissed. For all of one second, I tried to turn my head back towards her before realizing it was impossible due to how closely our bodies were as we continued our performance for the crowd. My words were absolutely pointless, too. She gave a few more squeezes, roughly exploring my boobs with her fingers and thumbs, and went so far as to pinch my nipples a couple times now that she had better access than before. I tried to take some solace in the face that her hands in addition to the bra were keeping me more covered than just the latter, but that was hardly a silver lining when my entire reputation as a dancer and a typically good student had been warped beyond recognition at this point.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I heard Zoey’s voice in my ear. “Arms up,” she whispered, “Sway those hips.”

I took a deep breath, hardly able to believe that I was willingly going along with all this. Allowing another girl–a girl who hadn’t quite graduated from high school–to feel me up, to dictate how our dance would go, and so much more. Even on the car ride over, the impending night seemed like it would just be a little bit uncomfortable. But not this. I only hesitated for a second, when I felt a HARD pinch on both my nipples. Flinching and unable to stop a slight squirm of my body as I sharply inhaled, I had to deal with Zoey getting on my case before I could recover from the unexpected jolt of pleasure-pain.

“Bella!” she hissed, “I said arms up!!”

I obeyed. Immediately. Not abruptly, as the professional dancer within me was still trying her very hardest to split the difference between ‘I’m a stripper’ and ‘I’m trained to perform properly.’ Raising my arms and allowing my body to sway and naturally move in the new position, I was caught off guard when I heard Autumn’s piercing voice over the speakers due to both her drunk sounding tone and how closely she was holding the DJ’s microphone to her lips. “TEN.”

In all my reluctant lesbian activity with Zoey, I hadn’t noticed that someone had projected a count to midnight on the wall off to my side. I wasn’t even sure where it was coming from, but that wasn’t my concern at the moment. I was almost time to kiss a girl. It’s not like I was repressed. Would I have agreed to any of this if I was? If someone had dared me to do a kiss like this at a quiet sleepover, I probably would have. It’s not like it would mean anything. But now that the whole room had been informed that I was ‘into girls,’ every single thing I did with Autumn’s little sister would be taken the wrong way. Zoey might be shameless, but that didn’t mean that I was. And this would mean something, at least in terms of how everyone else saw it.

“NINE.”

Most of the crowd joined Autumn in the countdown. There really was no backing out now, was there? The peer pressure was real, and I had already done so much as the party’s stripper. If I bailed on the midnight kiss, then the bitch of a blonde running this show would have an excuse to follow through on the threatening implications she had made earlier. And then there was Heather, who was honestly a lot more intimidating in terms of what she might do if I didn’t put on a good show. Plus she seemed a lot more sober than Autumn, unless she just did a better job of hiding her inebriation. Either way, crossing one or both of the girls at this point would be a horrible idea.

“EIGHT.”

“SEVEN.”

Out of nowhere, Zoey whisked my bra off. Over my boobs, past my head, and up my arms. I screamed from the newfound exposure, but my voice was completely drowned out by a crowd-wide “SIX,” as well as a ton of gasps and fingers pointing at my now fully bare chest as those that were watching me and Zoey got the attention of those that had temporarily turned to watch the clock. Anyone who hadn’t been staring at us before in anticipation of the kiss was certainly looking now.

“FIVE.”

Zoey held my arms above my head and used them like strings, jerking them left and right to make my boobs jiggle for everyone as my chest naturally moved back and forth in the opposite direction of my arms. Less a dancer’s reaction, and more due to basic physics. For all the efforts I had made to play it cool thus far, I could only imagine how dark the blush on my cheeks was.

I was topless! In public!

Letting go of me when she felt my belated resistance, the young blonde bunched up my dark bra and threw it into the crowd. I watched in horror as it disappeared into the hands of a guy I didn’t even know. How was I supposed to get it back now?! I was up on the table-stage, and he was deep enough in the audience that I wouldn’t be able to push through without getting groped by everyone that could get their hands on me like earlier.

Pressing her lips against my ear, Zoey muttered, “Ready, slut?”
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