Miss Joplin: A Tale of Enforced Servitude

Stories about girls getting pantsed, stripped and humiliated by anyone or anything.
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Re: Miss Joplin: A Tale of Enforced Servitude, Chapter 11

Post by Skylar21 »

Blondie wrote: Fri Oct 18, 2024 10:26 pm ...
“Can you wish Ricky a happy birthday, Marian?” I asked.
“Happy Birthday, Ricky,” she said with utmost reluctance.
Miss Joplin reached for her leotard, assuming that she was free to pull it back up. But I had other ideas.

“You’re to leave that leotard just like it is,”...you’re to remain like that for the rest of the day. And no covering up...so we can all check out your breasts as we please.”
To say Chapter 11 doesn't disappoint is an understatement! :D
The humiliation is great in this one. So good, so very good, making Miss Joplin wish Ricky happy birthday while being forced to display her breasts to him. :oops:

You're a cruel person, Blondie :twisted:
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Re: Miss Joplin: A Tale of Enforced Servitude, Chapter 11

Post by Blondie »

Skylar21 wrote: Fri Oct 18, 2024 11:35 pm
You're a cruel person, Blondie :twisted:
Hahaha. Especially when I channel my inner Felicity. :)
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Miss Joplin: A Tale of Enforced Servitude, Chapter 12

Post by Blondie »

Image

Chapter 12: Cameras, Cameras Everywhere, Part 3

Despite the considerable—and thoroughly entertaining—distraction of the reluctantly half-naked woman moving through their midst, Kindra and Ricky still managed to finish installing the last of the cameras and speakers. But midway through, there was another interesting development. And once again, it had everything to do with the soon-to-be fourteen-year-old boy.

Probably feeling emboldened by having his lusty birthday wish fulfilled, Ricky had another request. He proposed it to his aunt but spoke loudly enough for us all to hear. “Aunt Kindra, it’s Hudson’s birthday today. Do you think it would be okay if I invited him to come over so he could see...see her breasts?”

Kindra chuckled to herself and addressed me. “Hudson and Ricky have been best friends forever. Another good Catholic boy.”

I glanced at Miss Joplin, who was shaking her head demonstrably at the proposal. “Sure,” I said. “No harm in that. Just tell him he’s not allowed to take any pictures.”

“Oh, no problem. Awesome!” responded Ricky. “He lives only a few blocks from here. He can ride his bike.”

Ricky made a phone call, and within five minutes there was an anxious, out-of-breath teenage boy standing next to Ricky, staring shamelessly at the chest of the topless woman in the room.

“Hi Hudson,” I greeted. “This is Miss Joplin. She’s been disobedient, so she’s being punished for her behavior. She has to keep her breasts on display for the rest of the day.”

“Cool!” replied the bug-eyed Hudson, inducing another laugh from Kindra and me.

“Can you wish Hudson a happy birthday, Marian?” I asked.

Miss Joplin winced, took a deep breath and said, “Happy Birthday, Hudson.”

“Thank you,” replied Hudson without taking his eyes from her breasts. “This is the best birthday ever!”

“She’s made a couple of birthday boys very happy today,” declared Kindra.

“Indeed,” I replied while smiling at the blushing Miss Joplin.

* * * * *

A few minutes later, Kindra was packing her bag. Her work was almost done, but there was one last test to be run. “Once we test the cameras here in the kitchen, you should be good to go,” she told me. “Um...would it be okay with you if I take charge for this last test?”

“Certainly,” I said, curious about what she intended.

Take charge she did. And it was delicious.

“Okay, let’s see, boys, I can use your help here for a minute.”

She had raised her voice slightly and had an air of authority about her. She pointed to the kitchen island, which had a few miscellaneous items on it.

“I need you to clear everything off this countertop so it’s completely bare. You can put everything over by the sink.”

The boys had the island cleared in a matter of moments. “Good. Now the two of you can stand together over there in the doorway. You’ll be able to see the lady from there.”

She looked at Miss Joplin, whose expression was a combination of puzzlement and anxiety. “Ma'am, I need you to get up here,” she said while tapping the island counter twice with her palm. “You’d best take those heels off, so you don’t fall and hurt yourself.”

Miss Joplin, knowing it would be fruitless to protest, slipped off her stilettos and climbed onto the three-foot-high island, under the watchful eyes of us all.

“Good,” continued Kindra. “Stand up tall. And face the boys.” She turned and faced the grinning teenagers. “Excellent. Okay, Felicity and I will watch from the next room. You’ll be the only one within camera range, and the one who will trigger the motion sensors. You need to be perfectly still until you get my cue. Do you understand?”

She nodded her head sullenly.

“I’d like a verbal response.”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I understand.”

“Good. Now, like I say, no movement until it’s time. If the system works—and I’m confident it will—the first thing you will hear is music. When the music begins, I’d like you to start dancing.”

The energy in the room, already charged, spiked instantly. The two boys looked at each other wide-eyed and open-mouthed, then Hudson took Ricky by the shoulders and shook him exuberantly in his excitement. I was pretty fired up myself, as Miss Joplin’s humiliation was about to reach new heights.

Miss Joplin looked stunned. Whatever she had expected, it wasn’t this.

“What? No!” she gasped, her voice shaking. “I mean, I don’t need to...just tell me when to move, and then...the cameras will go on,” she said, desperation creeping into her tone.

“Well, sure, that would work,” Kindra said thoughtfully, pausing just long enough for a flicker of hope to cross Miss Joplin’s face. “But it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun,” she added, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Miss Joplin opened her mouth to object, but Kindra went on. “Besides, it would be a special birthday treat for the boys.”

The look on Miss Joplin’s face was pure dread. Her skin tingled with self-consciousness, while her arms twitched with the urge to cover herself. “You can’t mean this,” she said. “I—I can’t dance. Not like this.”

“It doesn’t have to be good,” Kindra said cheerfully. “Just...enthusiastic.”

“Oh my God,” Miss Joplin whispered softly to herself, the reality of her predicament sinking in. “Wait, can I...can I at least pull this up?” she pleaded, gesturing to her leotard.

“Well, that’s not up to me,” said Kindra. She turned to me, and I simply shook my head. “Sorry, it doesn’t look like that’s allowed. Breasts out while you dance.”

Miss Joplin let out a strangled gasp—thick with disbelief and rising panic. She blinked rapidly, trying to hold it together as the weight of what was coming penetrated her mind.

Kindra and I retreated to the dining room, positioning ourselves to watch Miss Joplin through the doorway.

Miss Joplin stood rigidly while the two boys ogled her eagerly, their eyes wide with anticipation. It had to be excruciating for her—but not nearly as excruciating as it would be in just a few moments.

“That was quite an idea you had,” I said to Kindra as she worked deftly at the laptop, connecting the kitchen’s camera and speaker.

“I had a feeling you might like that,” she replied with a mischievous grin. “I mean, sure—I could’ve just told her to walk across the room. But this?” Her eyes sparkled. “This is going to be so much more fun.”

She paused, then added with a chuckle, “Plus, to be honest, I really want to make her dance.”

We locked eyes and smiled knowingly. Though it was unspoken, there was an understanding between us now: We both found something deeply satisfying in the art of humiliation.

The excitement was palpable as Kindra queued up her musical choice. We were ready to go.

“Can this be recorded?” I asked, eager to relive this moment later.

“Sure, we can do that,” she said, making a couple of keystrokes.

Kindra picked up the mic and spoke with authority: “Now remember—stand perfectly still until the music starts. Then I want you to dance for us. Got it? Good. Here we go...show time.”

Moments later, the opening beat of Rihanna’s S&M pulsed through the kitchen speaker. In case you’re not familiar with it, here is a little snippet: S&M

The camera didn’t engage, but that was because the lady standing on the kitchen island remained frozen in her tracks, her expression a mixture of fear and embarrassment.

Kindra’s voice cut through the air, audible through the speaker. “The camera didn’t activate, Marian,” she said, using her name for the first time. “You need to dance.”

“I...I don’t think I can do this. Please!” she begged," her voice trembling.

“Of course you can, Marian. Pretend nobody’s watching. Get lost in the music,” coaxed Kindra. “I’m going to start the song over. You need to start dancing.”

The music restarted.

Again, nothing.

Kindra stopped the music and said, “Talk to me, Marian. Why aren’t you dancing?”

“Please, I...I can’t. It’s too much," she whimpered. “I’m already standing here like...like this...in front of...please, just let me step down and walk. Please?"

I relished her discomfort. The very thought of dancing for us—topless, no less—was already more humiliation than she could bear. And that only made the idea of her actually doing it all the more delicious. I had no doubt she would dance, eventually. After all, I owned her now. There was very little I couldn’t make her do.

Also, Kindra was determined to make her dance, and she wasn’t backing down. Miss Joplin didn't stand a chance.

“We’ve been through this, Marian,” Kindra said, her voice calm but commanding. “We want to see you dance.”

“Oh, gosh,” Miss Joplin groaned, barely audible, her embarrassment mounting. She closed her eyes for a long beat. When she opened them again, they were welled with tears.

“You don’t understand,” she said hoarsely. “I can’t do this. I can’t.”

Kindra’s smile didn’t fade. “You’ll be fine. The worst part is starting. Once you move, it gets easier. Trust me.”

She tapped a key. The music began again.

Na- na- na, come on

Still no movement.

Na- na- na, come on

There was a slight but noticeable twitch of Miss Joplin’s knees, probably involuntary.

Na- na- na,-na,-na, come on
Na- na- na, come on, come on, come on

Miss Joplin moved, but her limbs were stiff, awkward. Her eyes flicked to the boys, then away again. Her face was crimson.

♬ ‘Cause I may be bad but I’m perfectly good at it ♬

Miss Joplin swayed her hips ever so slightly, her movements hesitant and clumsy.

Feels so good being bad (oh-oh, oh-oh-oh)
There's no way I'm turning back (oh-oh, oh-oh-oh)

Miss Joplin shuffled her feet, looking more like a malfunctioning robot than a dancer. Kindra’s voice joined in with the music, encouraging her.

“Come on, sweetie. That’s a start—but you can do better than that. Dance!”

Now the pain is for pleasure,
'Cause nothing can measure (oh, oh, ohh)

Miss Joplin managed a few more jerky steps. Her expression said everything.

Kindra paused the music. “This isn’t working, Marian. You didn’t even set off the motion detector.” She and I exchanged smiles, both fully aware that wasn’t true.

“Please, I...I can’t do this!” Miss Joplin whimpered, her voice trembling.

“I know, sweetheart,” Kindra said, trying to sound sympathetic, though her voice betrayed her amusement. “I understand how embarrassing this must be. I really do. But think of the birthday boys. Do it for them.”

Miss Joplin’s face flushed crimson, her hands trembling where they rested by her sides. She stood frozen, eyes downcast, fighting the overwhelming urge to cover herself. Her breaths were shallow, her body rigid.

Kindra leaned in, smiling. “Felicity says that if you don’t start dancing like you mean it, she’ll have no choice but to take possession of your leotard.” She let the words hang, savoring Miss Joplin’s wide-eyed expression. “Actually, I think it would be incredibly entertaining to watch you dance naked for us. Do you want that, Marian? Do you want to dance naked for us?”

Miss Joplin’s face drained of color. “Oh, God! No!”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Kindra responded with a smile. “Alright, sweetie, let’s do this.” Her tone was firm now, almost patronizing. “I’ll start the song where it left off. It’s a fast tempo. Just move with it—you’ll be through before you know it.”

Miss Joplin’s eyes darted anxiously toward the others. The birthday boys were staring at her, grinning, their gazes hungry and eager.

As for me, I was loving every second. Her discomfort was my entertainment. I could practically feel her humiliation pouring off her.

The music resumed.

Love is great, love is fine (oh-oh, oh-oh-oh)
Out the box, out of line (oh-oh, oh-oh-oh) ♬
The affliction of the feeling leaves me wanting more (oh, oh, ohh)

The threat did the trick. Somewhere deep down, Miss Joplin summoned the resolve to obey, despite every instinct to resist. She moved, slowly and grudgingly. Her motions were awkward and hesitant, but it was unmistakably a dance.

“Good, Marian!” Kindra called out, her tone sing-song. “But you need to loosen up. Shake those hips. I want to see those lovely breasts really jiggle.”

'Cause I may be bad but I'm perfectly good at it
Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But chains and whips excite me

Indeed, bit by bit, Marian’s body began to give in. Her hips gave a slow, reluctant sway. Her body shifted with the rhythm, moving in spite of her shame. She was dancing. And yes, her breasts were jiggling.

“Good girl, Marian! The boys are loving it!” Kindra’s voice dripped with approval. “Now—hands behind your head. Keep those bunny ears on. Elbows forward. Point those pretty nipples right at the birthday boys. You’ve got it, Marian. You look delicious!”

The boys were spellbound—eyes wide, mouths slack, hypnotized by the reluctant show unfolding before them. Every shift of her body, every mortified glance toward them only added to their delight.

I was getting turned on. It wasn’t just exposure anymore—it was display, a forced performance under duress. And somehow, that made it all the more arousing.

Her breasts bounced with every awkward twist of her body—and the best part was knowing that she knew it. She was dancing for us, naked from the waist up, burning with humiliation, and I was eating up every second. I couldn’t touch myself then—not with company around—but the need was fierce.

At least I knew the video would still be there when I got home. And I planned to savor every second.

“Turn your back to the boys, now, Marian. And shake that nice booty. Shake it for them.”

Oh, Kindra!

Miss Joplin hesitated.

“Now,” Kindra said, her voice firmer, leaving no room for refusal.

Oh, you turn me on
It's exactly what I've been yearning for
Give it to me strong

Her heart pounded in her chest, but Miss Joplin obeyed—slowly, and unwillingly. She turned, one step at a time, and began to sway her hips. She felt their gaze, and each movement seemed to grow a little more shameful than the last.

“You’re doing great,” Kindra cooed. "Now turn back around and face the boys. Let’s finish strong, then we’re all done here.”

S, S, S and M, M, M
S, S, S and M, M, M

Miss Joplin turned slowly, cheeks burning crimson, her entire body trembling with humiliation. Her movements grew faster, more frantic, as if rushing through it might somehow make it hurt less. The boys watched, transfixed, their eyes wide, grinning with disbelief and glee at the spectacle before them.

Finally, the music faded. Miss Joplin collapsed to her knees, a faint sob escaping her lips as she bowed her head and crossed her arms over her chest, completely immersed in the totality of her humiliation.

* * * * *

A few minutes later, Kindra and I stood by the door, watching as the birthday buddies made their way down the walkway, still giggling and nudging each other like they’d just come from the best day of their lives.

“They had quite a day,” Kindra said with a satisfied smile. "As did I."

“Yes, I think we all did,” I replied.

I glanced back through the doorway. Miss Joplin was still on the kitchen island where we’d left her—kneeling, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“Especially Miss Joplin," I added.

Kindra followed my gaze, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she smiled. “She’ll remember this day for a long time.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a business card, handing it to me with a glint in her eye.

“Here’s my contact info. If you ever need help with anything...anything at all,” she said, her eyes shifting once more toward Miss Joplin. “I’d be more than happy to assist.”

I took the card, already imagining the possibilities.

I extended my hand, and she took it. No words were necessary. We both knew we would meet again.

* * * * *

Later that evening, I opened my laptop and logged into the surveillance app. The split-screen view of the house appeared instantly. And there was Miss Joplin—sitting on a chair, sipping a cup of tea at the kitchen island—that very island where, just hours earlier, she had so unwillingly entertained us.

I noted with satisfaction that she was still wearing the leotard, just as I’d instructed—pushed down to her hips, leaving her exposed above the waist. Before I left, I had made it clear that she was to remain that way until bedtime, at which point she could change into the skimpy nightgown I’d laid out for her.

I’d also told her the stilettos were optional, and the bunny ears entirely up to her. Needless to say, she’d chosen neither.

I closed the laptop and pulled out my phone to send her a text.

Good evening, Miss Joplin.

Good evening.

How was your day?

I laughed out loud at the absurdity of the question.

I think you know the answer to that.

Well, you made the boys extremely happy. They had a day they’ll never forget.

I’m sure you are right about that.

What did it feel like up there, dancing topless while we watched your tits bouncing around?

I did not like it.

Could you feel your tits bouncing around?

Yes.

Full sentence, please.

Yes, I could feel my breasts bouncing up and down.

I’m really looking forward to watching the video.

There was a pause. I don’t think she was aware that her performance was captured on video.

I’m sure you are looking forward to that.

Maybe we can watch it together sometime. I can come over, and we can project it onto your big screen TV. We can sit together on your couch and relive the moment.

I would rather not do that, if you don’t mind.

Okay. Alternatively, we can invite Kindra and the boys over and have a watch party. You can serve popcorn.

Please, let’s not do that. I would rather not see any of them again.

Kindra really had fun with you today.

I did not have fun.

I could tell that she really enjoyed making you dance. You should have seen the grin on her face when you were up there shaking your booty.

There was a long pause, as I'm sure Miss Joplin didn't quite know how to respond to that.

I did not like it.

I could tell. But Kindra and I, and of course the boys were very entertained, thanks to you.

Okay. Can we stop now?

And when I say Kindra had a grin on her face while you were dancing for her, it wasn’t just amusement or entertainment. There was something more. Like sexual. I think she really likes you.

I don’t know what to say about that.

Do you like her?

Not really.

No, I don’t really like her.

Well, hopefully she’ll be able to change your mind next time she sees you.

There was a long pause while Miss Joplin pondered the ramifications of another encounter with Kindra.

I would prefer not to see her again. Please.

We’ll see how it goes. She really enjoyed your company today, and like I say, she seems quite fond of you. Maybe there’s something there between you two. Something romantic. It would be a shame not to explore that possibility.

No, I can tell you there is nothing there. And I think I told you before, I am heterosexual.

That may be true. But I’ve read that all of us have at least some fraction of an attraction to our own gender. Maybe Kindra can exploit that part of you if you let her try.

Please, Felicity, I am not interested in that.

I know, but I might be interested in seeing that. So keep an open mind.

I already know. Please, I am not interested.

I could tell that she was thriving in the control she had over you when she made you dance. She would definitely be the dominant one in your relationship.

No, thank you. Please.

And you would obviously be the submissive one. You play the sub so well. Kindra would really like that. Maybe you two were meant for each other.

Please, may I go now? These texting sessions often make me feel ill.

Okay, maybe you should go lie down. Feel free to change into that sexy nightie whenever you want.

Okay, I will go lie down.

Did you forget to say something to me when I left your house today?

There was a pause, then she figured out what I was referring to.

Thank you for humiliating me, Felicity.

As always, Marian, it was my pleasure. And thank YOU!

With that I clicked out of the text app and opened my laptop. I scanned the video footage from the afternoon until a woman standing on her kitchen island came into view. She was topless, and she seemed under duress. The voice of the artist Rihanna began to flow from my laptop’s speaker.

Na- na- na, come on

It was music to my ears, in more ways than one. I paused the video and set the laptop on my bed. Moments later I was lying next to it, unfastening my jeans. My destiny with sexual bliss was on the horizon.
Last edited by Blondie on Sat Jul 05, 2025 7:47 pm, edited 8 times in total.
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Re: Miss Joplin: A Tale of Enforced Servitude

Post by Pantherjsmt123 »

Great story overall and I loved this last chapter. It really feels like the walls are closing in on Miss Joplin! Also love the images that you've included with the story. I already can't wait for the next chapter, keep up the great work
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Re: Miss Joplin: A Tale of Enforced Servitude

Post by Brett »

I was surprised she didn't lose the leotard completely after refusing to dance.
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Re: Miss Joplin: A Tale of Enforced Servitude

Post by Blondie »

Brett wrote: Tue Oct 22, 2024 4:57 am I was surprised she didn't lose the leotard completely after refusing to dance.
Well, she didn't exactly refuse. She just couldn't force herself to dance topless for a captivated audience, as she knew the humiliation would be almost impossible to endure.

As I was writing it up, I did consider the obvious of making her strip naked for the dance. Had I done that, it probably would have been the end of the story, as I consider being forced to dance naked against one's will one of the ultimate humiliations. I would have had a hard time topping that with future chapters, and I did have more plans for Miss Joplin.

In retrospect, it may have been a nice way to conclude this story and put Miss Joplin to bed (so to speak), with her naked on the counter in the fetal position, humiliated to the extreme. A plus with this format it that it is not a hard copy, and I could go back and make an edit, doing just that. Let me sleep on that for a while.
Last edited by Blondie on Tue Oct 22, 2024 9:52 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Miss Joplin: A Tale of Enforced Servitude

Post by Skylar21 »

It would appear that Felicity has completely owned Mrs. Joplin with the table dance and constant surveillance. Is there anything left of the poor woman? :roll:

Having her dance topless for the two boys was sexy to read and I'm sure humiliating to do. How much further can she be pushed? This chapter is a good one. :)
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Re: Miss Joplin: A Tale of Enforced Servitude

Post by Blondie »

Skylar21 wrote: Tue Oct 22, 2024 8:29 pm It would appear that Felicity has completely owned Mrs. Joplin with the table dance and constant surveillance. Is there anything left of the poor woman? :roll:
I could probably think of something. ;)
Skylar21 wrote: Tue Oct 22, 2024 8:29 pm Having her dance topless for the two boys was sexy to read and I'm sure humiliating to do. How much further can she be pushed? This chapter is a good one. :)
Maybe I'm getting slower, but I spent a lot of time on those three chapters. So thank you for saying so.
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Re: Miss Joplin: A Tale of Enforced Servitude

Post by Vader »

Don’t really know how much more could be done to Miss Joplin she is under constant surveillance and basically a prisoner in her own home Felicity tells her what to do what to wear or take off. At this point she would be so beaten down she would be numb to the humiliation.
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Re: Miss Joplin: A Tale of Enforced Servitude

Post by Brett »

A great story.
She was naked for the pizza boys
It would have been good if she had to tell them boys about her waxing .
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