Chapter 17: Sally and Cindy Unveiled
After the second can-can performance, the eight girls dared to hope that their ordeal was finally over. They had just finished shaking their naked backsides for the amusement of Tommy and his ninety guests, and they assumed that would be the grand finale. But to their dismay, the curtain had not yet fallen on their humiliation.
Behind the scenes, Molly stood grinning just offstage, thoroughly enjoying herself as she carried out Tommy’s instructions. She watched with folded arms as the red-faced dancers made their way toward the dressing room.
“Sally, could you come here, please?” she called sweetly, singling out Tommy’s sister. “The rest of you can go in and close the door. I’ll fetch you when it’s your turn.”
Sally’s shoulders sagged. Being tapped by Molly was not a good sign.
“I have to say, Sally,” Molly teased, “you really seem to have a knack for this can-can thing. How would you like to do a solo performance? Doesn’t that sound fun?”
Sally’s expression made it abundantly clear that "fun" was not the word she would’ve chosen. But she knew resistance was useless. Best to get out there, get her little dance out of the way and be done with it.
Molly had further instructions for Sally, though.
“We’re going to try something a little different this time, Sally, just for variety’s sake. Here’s what I want you to do…”
Molly then gave Sally her instructions, and watched the abashed girl drop her jaw in horror.
“Oh, no. Please. Please, don’t make me do that,” Sally begged. “Haven’t I done enough already?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Molly cooed, eyes twinkling, “you’re going to be amazing. Trust me—they’re going to eat you up. You’ll bring the house down.”
Sally had no doubt that Molly was right, which only added to her extreme trepidation.
Without another word, Molly moved to the ropes and swept the curtain open. The spotlight snapped to life, catching Sally in its beam like a deer frozen in headlights. The audience roared with anticipation as the first strains of the can-can music began again.
Tommy, already grinning in anticipation, watched his distressed sister with keen interest. He knew what was coming, and judging by the eager hush settling over the crowd, they suspected something special was in store.
Sally began to dance, her movements stiff at first, but she pushed through. The music swelled toward its crescendo, and the audience collectively leaned forward, anticipating the delicious scene of the dancer lifting the back of her dress and shaking her bare ass to the music.
But instead of lifting her dress to flash her backside, Sally did something far more dramatic. With a deep breath, she whipped the entire dress up and over her head, twirled it over her head, and tossed it out to the crowd.
Gasps and whistles erupted as Sally stood in the center of the stage wearing nothing but black lace thigh-high stockings, high heels, and a magenta headpiece—her blush matching it perfectly. Her voluptuous form was on full display, and the applause intensified as Sally pranced around the stage to the beat of the can-can.
When the Offenbach piece reached its fevered-pitch moment, Sally turned, bent low at the waist, and gave the crowd exactly what they hoped for—a vigorous, unabashed shake of her bare ass to the pounding rhythm. The audience screamed with pleasure.
Humiliated and trembling, Sally darted toward the wings as soon as the music ended, desperate for cover. But before she could vanish, Tommy’s voice rang out.
“Hold on, Sis, we need you out here.”
Sally paused, buried her face in her hands, then grudgingly turned back around, covering her sex.
“We’re running low on cocktail service out here,” Tommy continued, cheerful as ever. “And we’re getting very thirsty. So come on down and take care of your guests. And please don’t bother to cover up anymore. No need to be bashful—we’re all friends here.”
The crowd laughed and clapped, eyes glued to her.
All eyes were on the crimson-faced Sally as she made her way down the steps, arms by her side, as she walked from table to table taking drink orders. Sally’s mortification was magnified by the fact that she didn’t have the other seven girls with her, so she had the undivided attention of the delighted guests. She couldn’t look any of them in their eyes, and her downward cast and shamefaced appearance added to Tommy’s delight.
* * * * *
While this was going on, Molly had closed the curtain and poked her head inside the dressing room, beckoning her next victim.
“Cindy, sweetheart,” she chirped, “would you kindly remove all of your clothes and come out here?”
The silence from the group was broken only by Cindy’s shocked gasp. Molly pretended to reconsider. “On second thought, you don’t have to take all your clothes off. Go ahead and leave your heels on.”
A few moments later a very reluctant Cindy appeared, blushing furiously and covering her chest with both of her arms, once again demonstrating her extreme self-consciousness of her undersized breasts.
She shuffled across the stage in just her heels toward her tormentor, who was standing in the middle of the stage behind the curtain. Molly was already waiting in the center with a devilish grin and two ropes dangling from the ceiling.
“Hold out your hands, sweetie,” she instructed with mock kindness.
Cindy hesitated, glancing around like a trapped animal. But eventually, she extended her wrists, and Molly secured them with the ropes.
As Molly backed away, Cindy tried to cover up, but it was a lost cause. With the turn of a crank, the ropes lifted her arms high above her head, stretching her slim frame and leaving her completely exposed. Her tiny breasts appeared even smaller in her extended position, giving her chest the appearance of a young boy’s.
Molly strolled over to her victim, looked her up and down, and smiled.
“You’re going to bring the house down, sweetheart, when I open the curtain,” she taunted. “Now everybody will have a really nice view of these teeny little titties of yours,” continued Molly as she playfully tweaked one of Cindy’s little nipples.
The helpless Cindy was borderline frantic. “Oh, please don’t do this to me! Please! No! I’m begging you!” implored Cindy.
Molly put her finger to her lips as though she was considering the request.
“You know what? You’re right. Making you stand here naked in front of everybody does seem a little harsh. Let me get something to cover you up.”
Molly retreated to the dressing room, and to Cindy’s relief she returned with a pink towel.
“Here you go, sweetie,” Molly said cheerfully as she wrapped it around Cindy’s chest and tied it in the back. It barely reached mid-thigh. “Is that better?”
“Y-yes,” Cindy stammered, nodding gratefully, though still trembling.
“Good! Now smile for your audience.”
Molly dramatically yanked the curtain rope, revealing the towel-clad girl in all her reluctant glory. Cindy froze, terrified that the towel might slip at any moment. The crowd whooped in delight. But her horror doubled when she saw Tommy stepping onto the stage—holding something.
What is that in his hand? Oh no, it’s a feather!
Tommy grinned. “Ring any bells, Cindy? “Think back to the gymnasium, four years ago, when you used one of these on me. It’s time to find out just how ticklish you are.”
He approached slowly and began brushing the feather along her ear. Cindy jerked her head back, being careful to keep her body still. The feather danced across her nose and over to her other ear, and she let out a barely contained squeal.
Cindy was having a difficult time keeping still, and to her dismay she thought she felt the towel loosening slightly. She breathed a sigh of temporary relief when she confirmed that her coverage was still intact.
Tommy, though, was just getting started. To his delight, it was apparent that Cindy was quite ticklish.
He continued to torment her with the feather, stroking her neck, then along the top of her chest. Cindy twitched, the crowd roaring louder as they noticed a slight shift of the towel.
Cindy’s facial expressions betrayed her anguish as she fought to keep from moving. Tommy then raised the feather high above Cindy’s head, starting at her wrist, and slowly lowered the tickler downward, along the inside of her arm. Cindy was beside herself when she realized where this was heading. When the tip of the feather reached the inside of her biceps, Cindy pleaded with her tormentor.
“Please stop, Tommy! Please, no more! Oh God, please stop!”
But Tommy was undeterred. As he twirled the feather just above Cindy’s armpit, it became obvious that she was fighting a losing battle. She carefully alternated lifting each leg off the ground, struggling to keep from moving her upper body. The anticipation of the spectators increased.
And then—just as she clenched every muscle—he struck. When the tip of the feather invaded her armpit ruthlessly, Cindy lost control. She shrieked and gyrated her whole body with reckless abandon. The towel gave up the fight and dropped unfettered to the floor of the stage.
The audience lost it.
Cindy continued her spastic gyrations, trying in vain to twist her legs and knees into some semblance of coverage. Her face was beet red, eyes wild with disbelief and embarrassment.
Tommy, with the dirty deed now successful, stepped aside and faced the audience, his arm outstretched with an open palm toward his naked victim.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you...Miss Cindy Goodwin!”
The crowd gave a standing ovation, some even whistling. Cindy seemed to be red from head to toe as she tried fruitlessly to cover her blond bush by continuing to lift her legs awkwardly, as if her knees could somehow shield her from the dozens of eyes glued to her.
Tommy exited the stage, calmly ordering a cocktail from his naked sister, while Molly let the audience enjoy Cindy’s dance of desperation for another ten minutes.
Finally, she returned to the stage, lowered the ropes, and untied her
“Well done, girlfriend,” Molly teased. “Now scoot along and help your friend Sally serve cocktails.”
Molly playfully slapped Cindy’s naked ass and sent the thoroughly humiliated girl on her way.
Back in the dressing room, the six remaining girls shifted nervously, exchanging wide-eyed glances as the crowd’s laughter echoed through the walls. They didn’t know exactly what had just happened…but they were pretty sure they didn’t want to be next.
They collectively flinched when the dressing room door opened and Molly popped in with a wicked smile, ready to call the name of her next victim.