Layla Should Have Stayed Home

Stories about girls getting pantsed, stripped and humiliated by anyone or anything.
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cappyisking
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Layla Should Have Stayed Home

Post by cappyisking »

Long time reader, and decided to write something for a change. I sometimes get carried away in my writings, so if there’s any continuity or grammar errors I apologize. This is a one off and complete story, I personally dislike stories releasing in parts. If received well I might write again some day.

Layla stood at the bus stop, her breath coming out in puffs of mist in the chilly morning air. She glanced at her phone, hoping for a miracle, but the time confirmed her worst fear: the bus had already left. With a sigh, she scrolled through her contacts and called the one person she knew would help her out of this jam.

Layla was a fairly popular girl at school with no shortage of friends, her looks definitely helped with that. She had long, sleek black hair that cascaded down her back, accentuated by stylish bangs that framed her face. Her white skin was smooth and clear, which gave her a naturally radiant complexion. She is fairly pretty, with striking features which made her accustomed to the often admiring glances she received.

Layla stood at the bus stop weighing her options. She could call Emma, who lived nearby and always offered a sympathetic ear, but she knew her mom wouldn't let her use her car. There was also Jordan, but he was giving Layla weird vibes for days now. Always hitting on her in the DMs and making her genuinely uncomfortable to be around, especially alone, so he was off the table.

Lastly, there was Derrick who Layla only recently became friends withs, through his relationship with Maddie. Maddie and Derrick have been dating a few weeks, and ever since became more distant with Layla. Layla and Maddie have always had a shaky friendship, but has never grown to be anything more than verbal altercations. If only Layla knew what was in store for her that day.

Layla dialed Derrick’s phone and he answered after the first few rings. "Hey Derrick, I hate to be the one that asks for favors, but is it possible that you can give me a ride to school? I missed the bus," she said, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice.

"Sure thing, I’m picking Maddie up, but afterwards I’m sure I can come and get you too" Derrick replied.

Layla had mixed reactions to his response. She desperately needed a ride to school, or her mom would be pissed. But, on the other hand Maddie was acting increasingly hostile to her and her friends. Ultimately, she decided to take the chance.

“With Derrick around hopefully things wouldn’t go out of control,” Layla thought as she waited.

Around fifteen minutes later, Derrick's car pulled up with Maddie riding shotgun. Layla hesitantly jogged over and opened the door, only to freeze when she saw the look on Maddie's face. Maddie turned her head and gave Layla a tight-lipped smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hey, Layla," Maddie said, somewhat coldly. “Please have a seat,” she quickly followed up.

"Don’t worry, that's the plan," Layla replied, trying to lighten the mood. Sliding into the backseat, Layla quickly feels the tension, the kind that Layla and Maddie had become all too familiar with in their on-and-off friendship.

The car ride was silent for a few minutes, the only sound coming from the soft hum of the engine and the occasional turn signal. Layla could feel Maddie's presence acutely, every small movement and shift in her seat a reminder of their fractured friendship. She wondered what Maddie was thinking, if she was as uncomfortable as Layla felt.

"So, how's your morning been?" Derrick asked, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror to catch Layla's eye.

"Not the best," Layla said with a small laugh. "Missed the bus, obviously. But thanks for rescuing me. My mom would’ve fucking killed me is she knew I missed another day," Layla followed up.

"No problem. Before we picked you up, me and Maddie were talking about the Pre-Calc test tomorrow. You ready for it?" Derrick said, trying to steer the conversation into safer waters.

"I mean, I guess," Layla said, her voice trailing off. She wasn't really in the mood to talk about school.

Maddie turned in her seat to face Layla, and her blue eyes sharp. "Ready for the test, or ready to make another move on Derrick?" Layla exclaimed.

Layla blinked in surprise, heat rising to her cheeks. "What the fuck are you talking about, Maddie? Derrick’s a friend, and only a friend."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Maddie snapped, her voice rising. "I've seen the way you look at him, always hanging around whenever you get the chance! Just because you’re pretty, with some of the nicest tits in the school. That doesn’t mean you can have whatever you want. Especially my fucking boyfriend!"

Layla's eyes widened, shock and anger bubbling up inside her. "That’s ridiculous! Derrick and I are just friends, like I said. And I wouldn’t do that to you, even if we’re not exactly on the best terms right now."

"Yeah, right," Maddie retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "You think I don’t know how much of a whore you are? I mean really, come on Layla. Why else would you flaunt your body in class everyday, with those tight leggings?" Maddie let that sink in, “I know, to show off your ass to all the guys in class.”

"Guys, come on," Derrick finally interjected, his voice strained. "Is this at all necessary?"

"No, let’s get it all out," Layla quickly shot back, leaning forward. "Maddie, I don't know what your problem is, but you need to stop projecting your insecurities onto me. I’ve never tried to 'swoop in' on anything or anyone."

The irony is, Maddie isn’t at all unpleasant to look at. In fact, she’s quite striking. Her wavy, dirty blonde hair cascades effortlessly around her shoulders, perfectly framing her face and highlighting her captivating blue eyes. Her fair skin, speckled with delicate freckles, only enhances her natural charm. Maddie's figure is equally alluring, with graceful curves and a C-cup bust that adds to her feminine allure. Her overall appearance is one that naturally draws attention and admiration from all the guys in school, and jealous girls.

Maddie's eyes suddenly flashed with anger. "Insecurities? Please, Layla. You're just used to everyone fawning over you and doing whatever you want, because you’re a fucking slut. Maybe you should realize not everyone is going to fall for your little act!"

Layla, agitated from the start of the car ride, did something she would soon regret. In a moment of heated frustration, her hand lashed out, delivering a sharp slap across Maddie's face. The sound reverberated in the confined space of the car, echoing the tension that had been building between them. Maddie recoiled in shock, her blue eyes widening with a mix of hurt and anger. As the weight of Layla's action sank in, a heavy silence settled over the car, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine.

A shocked Derrick filled the silence, “What the fuck Layla, why would you hit my fucking girlfriend?” Maddie with a clearly fictitious act in Layla’s eyes began to softly cry.

“I’m sorry,” is all Layla could muster, her voice becoming almost inaudible.

Layla's heart sank as she watched the tears welling up in Maddie's eyes, her anger quickly giving way to guilt and remorse. She hadn't meant to lash out like that, especially not in front of Derrick. But the pent-up frustration and animosity between her and Maddie had reached a breaking point, culminating in that impulsive, regrettable action.

Derrick's shocked expression turned to one of anger and disappointment, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "That was completely uncalled for, Layla. I can't believe you would do something like that."

Layla swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. "I know, Derrick. I'm sorry. I just... I don't know what came over me. It was wrong, and I regret it."
Derrick responded soon after, almost sounding disappointed, “You know I gave you the benefit of the doubt, but I think Maddie is right and you are a whore.”

Layla, gaped in surprise, “What… I already said I’m sorry, I’m serious.” turning to a noticeably silent Maddie, “I’m so so sorry Maddie. Please just drop me off at school and we’ll go our own separate ways.”

Derrick looked at Maddie with an approving glance, “change of plans, looks like you’ll be missing school after all Layla.”

A bewildered Layla asked “What do you mean? We’re like five minutes”

Maddie finally speaks after the slap speaks, “Derrick has a little detour to take, don’t worry it shouldn’t take long.”

Derrick navigated the car through the winding roads leading to the school, they veered off onto a narrow path flanked by dense woods. The trees loomed overhead, casting eerie shadows that danced across the forest floor. With each twist and turn, the isolation of their surroundings grew more pronounced, with signs of civilization fading into the background. After driving for several minutes in silence, Derrick finally pulled up to a clearing in the woods. The car came to a stop in a secluded spot far from the main entrance of the school. The silence of the forest enveloped them as Maddie stepped out of the car, with Layla obviously hesitant as she had no idea of the two’s intentions.

Maddie came to the side of the car Layla rested and talked through the window, “Listen I’ll say this once, and only once, no one knows we’re out here.” A brief pause with Maddie thinking of what to say, “So the sooner we get through with what we have planned, the sooner we can all go back.” Maddie almost sounded believable and cordial with Layla.

Derrick finally getting out of the car too, leads Layla to ask, “what are you going to do to me?”

“Simple,” Maddie responded. Alluding to her and Derrick, “we’re going to prove how much of a slut you are. And we’ll do that by first taking off your clothes.” Maddie added, “we prefer you do it, but I’m sure Derrick wouldn’t mind.”

Layla's heart pounded with fear as Maddie's words sank in, the gravity of the situation dawning on her. She glanced at Derrick, hoping to find some semblance of reason in his expression, but his stoic demeanor only added to her unease.

"I-I'm not going to do that," Layla stammered, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "This isn't right, Maddie. We can't just..."

Maddie's eyes narrowed, her patience wearing thin. "Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be, Layla. It’s not as fun this way. Plus, you did bring this on yourself. All you had to do was keep your whore hands to yourself. But a slut like you, I doubt you know how to do that."

Derrick stepped forward a few, his presence looming over Layla, invading her space. "Look, just cooperate, and it’ll be over in no time,” Derrick
sarcastically said. “We won't hurt you, like you did to Maddie, but we need to make a point. ‘No bad deed goes unpunished’ or some shit like that," Derrick laughed.

“How fucking sick are these people,” Layla internally questioned.

Layla's mind began to race as she weighed her options, panic clawed at her chest. With a steely foolhardy resolve, she shook her head. "I won't do it. You can't force me to strip."

Maddie's expression hardened, a flicker of anger crossing her features, then a sudden look of amusement grew across her face. "Fine, have it your way. I wish this could’ve gone a lot easier,” she sarcastically remarked. “Derrick the honors.”

Derrick, with Maddies blessing, walked the few feet to a cornered Layla. She stood up against Derrick's car so had nowhere to move once he got there. With a grin, Derrick caressed Layla's cheek as a sense of false comfort. Fifteen feet back, Layla didn't happen to notice Maddie pulling out her phone, to add to the humiliation.

Layla's attire that day was a casual yet stylish choice for a day at school. She wore a white low-cut tee that accentuated her figure, with a few buttons undone at the neckline for a hint of allure. The fabric draped effortlessly over her frame, offering a comfortable yet flattering fit. Paired with the tee, Layla opted for sleek black leggings that hugged her curves, adding a touch of sophistication to her ensemble.

Derrick towering over Layla peered down at her cleavage, in awe at her breasts. With a sense of immense pleasure with what was about to be done, he slowly swept his index finger down the crack between her breasts, stopping at where the button met.

Layla Instinctively shutters, and tries to sink down hoping her torment stop. “Please, I’ll take it off, just don’t touch me,” Layla appeals to Derrick.

Derrick, contemplating the offer, is quickly interrupted by Maddie, “Don’t listen to that bitch! She’s a slut, she likes it!”

With reinsurance from Maddie, Derrick quickly resumes his torment. Derrick's hands moved with a sense of purpose as he reached for the few buttons of Layla's shirt, his fingers deftly undoing each one with practiced precision. With each button released, the fabric of Layla's shirt parted slightly, revealing glimpses of her skin beneath, and the violet color of her bra. His touch was gentle yet determined, his movements deliberate as he slowly exposed more of her chest. Layla's breath caught in her throat as she felt the cool air against her skin, a sense of vulnerability washing over her. Despite her resistance, she was unable to stop him, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and uncertainty as Derrick continued to undress her.

She too had a C-cup like Maddie and was dangerously close to being exposed, but with Maddie's reassurance echoing in her mind, Derrick's actions felt like a nightmare unfolding before Layla's eyes. The fabric of her shirt slipped further and further down her shoulders, revealing the delicate straps of her violet-colored bra. Layla's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Derrick's hands moved with a calculated slowness, tracing the contours of her body with an unsettling intimacy.

"Please, stop," Layla pleaded, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desperation. But her words fell on deaf ears as Derrick continued his relentless advance, heedless of her distress.

Maddie stood by, a silent witness to Layla's humiliation, focusing on capturing the perfect angle on her phone. Sporting an expression of cold indifference. The sense of betrayal cut deep as Layla realized that Maddie was complicit in this torment, her earlier reassurance nothing more than a cruel facade.

As the last button of Layla's shirt came undone, exposing her bra-clad chest, a wave of shame washed over her. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly powerless in the face of Derrick's relentless aggression.

Tears welled up in Layla's eyes as she struggled to maintain her composure, her mind racing with a desperate plea for escape. But in that isolated clearing, surrounded by the oppressive silence of the woods, Layla knew that her ordeal was far from over.

After the deed was done, Derrick haphazardly threw Layla’s recently pristine white shirt on the top of Derrick's car, with little regard. A sense of coldness filled Layla as she had an idea of what would come next.

Maddie eagerly commanded Derrick, “Do her bra next babe!”

With a heavy heart and trembling yet excited fingers, Derrick proceeded to unclasp Layla's bra, his movements slow and deliberate, each click of the clasp echoing like a death knell in the stifling silence of the woods. Layla's breath hitched in her throat as the bra fell away, leaving her exposed and vulnerable, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

The cool air of the forest brushed against Layla's bare skin, sending a shiver down her spine as she fought to suppress a wave of overwhelming nausea. Her hands instinctively crossed over her chest in a feeble attempt to preserve her modesty, but the damage had already been done. She felt stripped bare, not just physically, but emotionally and mentally, as the weight of Derrick and Maddie's betrayal bore down on her with suffocating force.
Maddie's voice cut through the silence like a knife, her tone dripping with malice as she commanded Derrick to continue. The sense of powerlessness that washed over Layla was almost suffocating, her mind reeling with a dizzying mix of fear, disgust, and disbelief.

As Derrick's hands moved with a sense of purpose, next to go was Layla’s leggings, which recently bought and fit snug against her body. Despite their newly acquired status, their significance seemed to diminish in the face of Derrick's torment. Layla's leggings, tight to the form of her lower half, proved no match for his determination, much to Maddie's and Derrick's twisted delight.

With each inch of fabric peeled away, Layla's sense of vulnerability intensified, her heart pounding in her chest as her bare skin was exposed to the cool air of the forest. The tight grip of the leggings, that once defined her curves, loosened reluctantly. As if reluctant to relinquish their protective embrace over Layla's trembling form. But their resistance proved futile, yielding to Derrick's relentless hands and revealing more of Layla's exposed flesh with each passing moment.

As Layla's leggings were peeled further down her legs, the delicate curve of her hips and the smooth contours of her thighs came into view. The fabric clung to her skin for a fleeting moment before sliding down, pooling at her feet in a crumpled heap. Layla remained paralyzed in shock and fear, her mind racing with a dizzying whirlwind of emotions. The sight of her own vulnerability laid bare before Derrick and Maddie filled her with a profound sense of shame and helplessness. Derrick alluded to Layla to step out of where her leggings now lay on the dirty ground, she obliged that request, not removing her hands from her breast.

Maddie interrupted the silence, “I know you must be scared, and you’re afraid we’ll see your pussy. But as a sign of friendship I’ll offer a deal. You let us restrain you and do a few things that you just might enjoy. And we'll keep your cute panties on, or not but we strip you completely.”

Layla, defeated and finally realizing Maddie’s phone replies in shock to that revelation, “Okay but no video,” she demanded.

“Deal,” she replied with a smirk.

With a swift and practiced motion, Derrick seized Layla's discarded white shirt from the top of his car, its fabric crumpled and stained with debris from its hood. Layla watched with a sense of dread as he folded it into a makeshift restraint, his hands moving with a sense of purpose as he manipulated the fabric to fit around her wrists.

Layla's heart pounded in her chest as Derrick approached her, the shirt held taut between his fingers like a makeshift rope. She tensed instinctively, her muscles coiling with a mix of fear and anticipation as Derrick's hands closed in around her wrists.

With a sudden, jerking motion, Derrick looped the fabric around Layla's wrists, binding them tightly behind her back in a crude approximation of handcuffs. Layla winced as the fabric dug into her skin, the rough texture of the shirt chafing against her wrists with each movement.

As the makeshift restraints bit into her flesh, Layla felt a surge of panic rising within her, her hands rendered useless and immobile against the unyielding grip of the fabric. She struggled against the bindings to get some sense of comfort, but the knots held firm, leaving her utterly at his mercy.
With her hands now secured behind her back, her breasts became exposed to both her tormentor's amusement. Layla felt a chilling sense of vulnerability wash over her, her sense of helplessness magnified by the realization that she was completely at Derrick and Maddie's mercy.

As Layla stood bound and helpless, her chest bare and exposed to the chilling air of the forest, Maddie's voice pierced through the heavy silence with a chilling command. "Go on, Derrick," she urged, her tone laced with malice. "Grab one of her tits."

Layla's breath caught in her throat as she watched Derrick's hand inch closer, his fingers hovering just inches away from her exposed breasts. With a sense of dread knotting in her stomach, Layla braced herself for the inevitable, her heart pounding in her chest as she awaited Derrick's next move.
With a sickening sense of inevitability, Derrick's hand closed around one of Layla's breasts, her right one to be exact. His touch sent a jolt of discomfort and revulsion coursing through her body. Layla winced as his fingers squeezed with a forceful grip, the sensation of his touch leaving her feeling violated and exposed.

To Maddies enjoyment she replied, “How you like that slut? I bet you like it when another man grabs your tits.” Looking over and now addressing Derrick, “does her tits feel better than mine babe?”

Almost feeling obligated to reply, he says, “of course not. Your’s feels way better than this sluts.”

Satisfied with the answer, Maddie seized the opportunity to assert her dominance over Layla, her own hand reaching out to pinch and twist Layla's other breast with a cruel and calculated precision. If she could see she has no doubt it’d left a mark. The sharp pain radiated through Layla's chest, a stark reminder of her powerlessness in her current situation.

Layla's mind reeled with a dizzying mix of fear and revulsion as Derrick and Maddie's hands explored her body with a chilling sense of entitlement. Trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape, Layla could only endure their torment in silence, her spirit broken and her dignity stripped away piece by agonizing piece.

After they both felt satisfied violating Layla’s exposed upper body, Maddie goes to Derrick's car pulling out something from her backpack. Not sure what she’d possibly be getting Layla tenses up expecting the worst, but what she sees somewhat bewilders her. In Maddie’s hand is a sharpie marker. Her bewilderment quickly turns into fear once she finds out what she has in plan.

As Layla watched in horror, Maddie approached with the sharpie marker in hand, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. Layla's heart sank as she realized Maddie's intentions, a surge of fear coursing through her veins at the thought of being marked with such a degrading label.

"No, please, you done enough," Layla pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation. "Don't do this."

But Maddie remained unmoved, her expression cold and calculating as she uncapped the marker with a flourish. With a cruel sense of satisfaction, she began to write the word "slut" across Layla's exposed chest, she wrote the word vertically trying to capture as much area as possible. To Layla each stroke of the marker feels like a branding iron searing into Layla's flesh.

Layla winced as the sharpie left its mark, the sensation of the ink staining her skin like a scar that would never fade. Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt the weight of Maddie's cruelty pressing down on her, her spirit crushed beneath the weight of their relentless torment.
As the word "slut" took shape on Layla's chest, a sickening sense of shame washed over her, her dignity stripped away in the cruelest of ways. She felt exposed and vulnerable, reduced to nothing more than a plaything for Maddie and Derrick's twisted amusement.

Once Maddie finished her handiwork, she stepped back, admiring her handiwork with a twisted sense of satisfaction. Layla's chest burned with humiliation as she felt the accusing gaze of those around her, the word "slut" emblazoned on her skin like a scarlet letter branding her for all to see.
Layla had no time to breathe as her heart sank even further at the sight of Maddie's phone in hand, she desperately tried to muster the courage to protest. "Wait, I said no recording, no videos..." she stammered, her voice trailing off weakly.

But Maddie's smirk only widened as she raised her phone, positioning it to capture the damning evidence of Layla's humiliation. "Oh, honey," Maddie cooed condescendingly, "I believe I said no video. I never promised anything about pictures."

Layla's protests died on her lips as the reality of her helplessness washed over her like a tidal wave. There was no arguing with Maddie's twisted logic, no bargaining with someone who took such delight in her suffering.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Layla could only watch in resigned silence as Maddie snapped a few pictures of the word "slut" scrawled across her chest, making sure a few captured her terrorized face. The click of the camera shutter echoed through the silent forest seemingly endlessly.
As Maddie lowered her phone, a satisfied grin playing on her lips, Layla felt a fresh wave of shame wash over her. She knew that the picture would be used as further ammunition against her. Layla's eyes filled with tears of humiliation and despair, Maddie's voice cut through the heavy silence, her tone dripping with malice.

"Don't worry, Layla," she taunted, "these pictures are just for insurance. I won't tell anyone what happened... as long as you behave yourself and keep your mouth shut like a good little girl."

Layla's heart sank at Maddie's words, a bitter taste of defeat flooding her mouth. She knew she had no choice but to comply, to endure whatever further torment Maddie and Derrick had in store for her if it meant keeping the humiliating ordeal a secret.

With a heavy heart, Layla nodded weakly, her spirit broken and her dignity in tatters. She felt like a puppet on strings, manipulated and controlled by forces beyond her control, trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.

After Layla verbally agreed, Maddie and Derrick finally released Layla from her makeshift restraints. Finally a sense of relief washed over her, mingled with a lingering sense of dread. She watched in silence as they handed back her clothes, the fabric stained and crumpled from their cruel game.

"Come on, Layla," Derrick said, his voice tinged with false cheerfulness. "We'll give you a ride to school. Wouldn't want you to be late, now would we?"

Layla hesitated for a moment, the memory of the humiliation she had endured still fresh in her mind. But with a heavy sigh, she reluctantly accepted their offer, knowing that she had no other choice.

As they drove towards the school in tense silence, Layla couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. She knew that the nightmare was far from over, that Maddie and Derrick's cruelty would haunt her for days to come. But for now, all Layla could do was endure, to cling to the hope that someday, somehow, she would find the strength to break free from the chains that bound her and reclaim the dignity that had been so cruelly stolen from her.
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mikewozere
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Re: Layla Should Have Stayed Home

Post by mikewozere »

Love it!
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