The Dancer

Part One

“Hey, Bella?”

A vaguely familiar voice was on the other line, but I couldn’t quite place it. Especially since I was still hungover from a super late Christmas party the previous night. I sat up a little bit in my bed, adjusting my loose tank top and brushing the hair out of my face.

“This is she,” I answered, after clearing my throat, “Who is this?”

“It’s Autumn!” the girl’s chipper voice gave me a slight headache in itself, and I held the phone away for a moment, “From East High?”

“Autumn, right,” I said. From high school. The two of us both graduated last summer, and had moved on to completely different colleges. Either way, we barely knew each other. We were classmates, not friends; the former wasn’t even true at this point.

“Yeah, Autumn Davis,” she said, just as cheerfully, “I got your number from Victoria. You’re still dancing, right?”

“Of course,” I replied, rolling my eyes. The phrase ‘still dancing’ is an iteration of phrases I hear all the time from relatives. It’s the most ridiculous understatement. I’m halfway through my freshman year at Oklahoma City University, working on a dance performance degree. I worked my ass off to get into the program, but I try not to brag about it. All I want is for people to understand that it’s an amazing opportunity, and that dancing IS a career—not just a hobby.

“Oh, perfect! Victoria was telling me you might do parties? She said one of her dancing friends in college does something like that to make some extra money around Christmas,” Autumn explained, as I woke up a little more. Victoria and I were in theatre together in high school, but I also hadn’t really heard from her in forever.

“Like a Dance Host?” I asked. One or two of my upperclassman friends at Oklahoma told me about being ‘dance hosts’ for a little extra spending money, where they’d show up and dance at different events and classy gatherings. Everyone thinks they’re just another guest, a friend of a friend, but they’re really attending as a paid employee. Contract worker, technically. Essentially, the job is to dance all night without taking a break. It keeps bodies on the floor, and makes the place look more popular and lively. Personally, I didn’t really like the idea—using my body and my skills to dance with strangers seems inappropriate and undermines my career aspirations.

“Yeah, our dancer totally bailed. I just got the call this morning,” Autumn explained further, before I could tell her I might not be the right girl for this, “So we’re a little desperate. We can offer you $800 for the night, if that sounds fair?”

Wait, $800?? With a small gasp, I quickly grabbed a notepad off the side of my desk. Hopefully Autumn didn’t hear my surprised reaction. The best hosting jobs generally offered $300 at most per night, or so I had heard. Though, once I stopped to think about it, Autumn’s family was rich. Grabbing a pen, I tried to ask calmly, “Can you give me the details, Autumn?”

“It’s a New Year’s Eve party,” she told me, which I wrote down, to my displeasure. I already had a party I was excited to go to, but this sounded be too good to pass up. I wouldn’t have to scrounge as much next semester with that chunk of cash padding my bank account. “It’s about what you’d expect. You have to dance, give dances, and a lucky boy might get a midnight kiss!”

“Wait, what?” I paused from my note taking.

“Bella, relax,” she giggled, “Loosen up. It’s a New Year’s party! You know how to flaunt your body, right?”

“I mean . . .” I hesitated, not quite knowing what to say. I had done advanced jazz and modern dance, so I’m much more fluid than I was in high school. I knew how to move my body. But ‘flaunt’ isn’t the word I’d use, personally.

“Look, if you can’t flaunt it, I’ll have to find someone else. Any recommendations?”

“No, I can flaunt it!” I said, feeling my cheeks heat up as I said the ridiculous phrase. Saying it out loud was so much worse than hearing it. But the money tempted me too much. It was just a night of casual dancing. I could survive a few hours of that.

“Good!” she exclaimed, “You can show up at 11 PM. And make sure you wear something sexy, okay? None of those outfits you used to wear in high school.”

“Wait, can’t I just-“

“Parties at my house are fun,” she said. I was a little annoyed that she was cutting me off, and more annoyed that she was implying that I’m not fun. But it was hard to argue when she was the one offering me the job, “Look, if you don’t want to, just say so.”

“No, it’s fine,” I told her, already decided. My older dancing friends did it. It would be a good experience. And, of course, it paid really well. “Dress sexy, dance sexy. Got it. 11 PM?”

“You got it, Bella. See you there!” she said. I heard a light giggle, but she hung up before I could say anything else. I got out of bed, dropping the notebook back on the desk. Thankfully, I still had two days to practice my club dancing, something I rarely do. After calling through the house to make sure I was home alone, I changed into a more revealing outfit and put on some dance music. Even if it was a casual night of dancing, I had no idea how many familiar faces would be there, and I didn’t want to seem awkward to any of them.

Much like a recital or choreography, I started to practice for the weekend.

Part Two

After a whole afternoon of deliberation and trying on countless outfits, I ended up choosing a short gray skirt and a black halter top, feeling as prepared as I would ever be. As one of my instructors always tells me, you have to fully commit to every dance opportunity. That includes outfits. Against my better judgment, I wore my long red hair down. I always, always, always wear it up when I dance, since it tends to get in the way otherwise. But tightly pinning my locks didn’t seem totally appropriate for a party, so I just lightly curled them instead.

One of my friends dropped me off at the party, and I could tell that it was already in full swing by the time I got there. I walked up the driveway, ignoring the two people I saw making out against a car. I walked to the front door and knocked. Then rang. Then rang again. After a minute or so of waiting, I just open the unlocked door and let myself in.

I was greeted by loud music and a packed house, with dim, flashing lights from different rooms of the Davis’s mansion-like home. I carefully made my way through the various rooms, almost getting trampled once by several drunk people running down the hall. I finally found Autumn in the kitchen, pouring shots for herself and a few other girls.

“Oh, there she is!” Autumn exclaimed. The blonde girl smiled, pointing me out to the other three. I thought my outfit was revealing, but Autumn was literally wearing black short shorts and an emerald green bra, leaving nothing to the imagination, “Wow, Bella! I almost didn’t even recognize you!”

“Hey, Autumn,” I said, feeling a little bit out of place. Autumn seemed in control for the most part, but her friends were definitely drunk already. “You really need a dance host at a party like this?”

“What’s a dance host?” one of Autumn’s friends asked. Two of them giggled at the phrase, and the last girl just looked confused, “Is that the prudish word for stripper…?”

“I am not a stripper!” I snapped. Drunk or not, it was insulting. It didn’t matter that she was a stranger; I wasn’t about to have my major interpreted like that. “I’m just here to dance, like Autumn told me.”

“But-“

“Girls, relax,” Autumn told them. She walked over to me, taking my hand before I could object, “Bella, come with me.”

“Autumn, I-” I started to protest, but it was pointless. She gave a sharp tug on my hand, walking me through the house. Reluctantly, I let her guide me. I could hear her friends laughing about something, but I chose to ignore them. I followed her through another room with two different couples making out (such a classy party), and then I was walked upstairs, presumably to Autumn’s room.

“Paige, out. Now,” Autumn harshly said. A brunette girl I vaguely know from high school was sitting on the bed, not so subtly flirting with two different guys. She didn’t look too happy about it, but reluctantly took her two companions and left the room. Once Paige was gone, Autumn closed the door, “Bella . . . you can call it whatever you want, but you do know you’re stripping tonight, right?”

Wait, what? “Umm, no I’m not.” What else was I supposed to say? I half hoped she was trying to pull a crappy joke, but the look on her face said otherwise.

“Oh my God, are you serious? Were you listening when we talked on the phone . . .?” Autumn rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms as she stood across from me.

“I said dance host!” I said, feeling more offended than when the other girl called me that. Why on earth would Autumn consider me a viable choice to call if she needed a stripper?

“Bella, you said you were fine flaunting your body, and you said you were fine giving dances to anyone who asked,” she started explaining it, almost like I was a child. Technically I did say those things, but in a completely different context, “Everyone here was promised a stripper, and they all paid for it already. I could have found somebody else if you said no, but now it’s too late. Way too late, Bella.”

“Yeah, but I-” I started to object, but Autumn just kept talking as if she didn’t even hear me.

“Aren’t you a professional dancer?” Autumn put her hands on her hips, looking annoyed, “Because bailing the night of is pretty unprofessional. And shitty, for that matter. It makes me look terrible as a host. Are you really going to leave me without a dancer tonight?”

“I . . .” I hesitated, my head spinning. For years, I had always shown up early to every practice and recital, and never once left any of my coaches or partners hanging. But did this count, if I didn’t know what I was agreeing to? Stripping was degrading and, personally, it would be embarrassing to dance in front of others in a setting like this, even clothed. But . . . I technically gave a commitment. It was difficult to think clearly when Autumn was staring daggers at me. “How far . . . how far would I have to strip . . .?” I asked, feeling the heat rush to my face.

“Have you really never been to a strip club?” she asked. She at least seemed a little relieved that I was considering it. “Down to your bra and underwear, I guess, if you didn’t bring anything more exciting. And, like you agreed to, you have to dance alone and give lap dances.”

Again, not what I said. I thought I was dancing with people, not giving people dances. “For how long?” I reluctantly asked, swallowing my pride. I would treat this professionally. I had danced in sheer clothes before, so this would be fine. Incredibly awkward, due to so many old classmates being around, and a bit degrading, but fine. Totally fine.

“Thank God,” Autumn said, smiling. She dropped her hands back down to her sides, “You need to dance from 11:15 until midnight. Then you can go home. Okay?”

Forty-five minutes. That was a lot of time to be dancing solo. Or giving lap dances . . . I almost changed my mind, but couldn't ignore Autumn's stare that was somehow both hopeful and judgmental all at the same time. Despite leaving the hierarchy of high school, I couldn’t help but give into a popular girl’s request.

I let out an exhale, giving in, “Alright, fine,” I said, still uncertain. I was not 100% okay with it, but Autumn made a point I couldn’t ignore. I would never leave anyone hanging, not even for something as awful as this, “But no videos, okay?”

“You’ll be our stripper?” Autumn asked. She gave me an expectant look.

“I just said I would, Autumn.”

“I need to hear you say it,” she rolled her eyes, “I don't want to get people's hopes up. Are you committed or not, Bella?”

“I . . .” I hesitated. Ugh, it felt so gross to say out loud! But after an uncomfortably long period of silence, I mumbled, “I’ll be your stripper.”

Part Three

It was almost time.

My hands were practically shaking as I stood just outside the room I was supposed to be dancing in. I didn’t like being the center of attention in general, but this was worse in every way. What was I thinking?? 

Part of me wanted to bolt out the door, yet I remained frozen in place. I had now told Autumn twice that I’d do this for her. I couldn’t bail now, could I?

It would be fine. I would be dancing for old classmates that I barely knew any more. Strangers I’d never see again. It would be fine. I would leave at midnight with whatever dignity I had left, and $800 in my pocket. And a good life lesson to always get the details for future gigs.

Autumn’s instructions echoed in my head as I waited for the impending ‘show.’ 

‘Money can go in your bra or thong.’

‘Give dances to anyone who asks.’

A myriad of other instructions that included how I needed to balance stripping and lap dances, and how I needed to dance the full 45 minutes, as instructed. It was exhausting, and I hadn’t even started yet. When the blonde girl bounded off to take care of whatever other hosting business she had to attend to, I let out a sigh of relief. 

A few minutes later, the blaring music in the other room was abruptly cut off mid-song, causing a chorus of “aww’s” and “boo’s” from everyone nearby. 

“Attention, everyone!” Autumn’s familiar voice filled the room over the speakers. “For those that haven’t heard, we have a stripper to help us count down to midnight.” Oh my God, she was making it sound like it was my job or something! But before I could consider fruitlessly calling out to correct her, Autumn called my name out. “Bella Ryan, everybody!”

I was a dancer. I could do this. 

Allowing myself a second to take a breath, I forced myself to don a faint smirk. Then I strutted out into the living room before I lost my nerve and/or before I could talk myself out of this. 

My stomach sunk the moment I crossed the threshold into the room. There were a LOT of people. Some crammed onto couches, other sitting on folding chairs or the floor, and even more standing on the outskirts of the room. The coffee table was conspicuously clean compared to all the other surfaces in the house littered with bottles and red solo cups. Oh God, it was supposed to be my stage . . .

I wanted to run. I wanted so badly to run. But I didn’t have a choice. I was already here, I had already committed myself to Autumn. So I carefully stepped up onto the coffee table, forcing myself to keep the smirk that was normally reserved for the rare dance number that called for it. I could feel the dozens of eyes looking me all over. A feeling that would certainly only get worse once I removed a layer or two.

“How many of you remember Bella from high school?” Autumn asked. Her voice was easily heard thanks to the mic she held to her lips. My face flushed as a good fifteen or twenty hands shot up. I had been able to blur out the faces before, but now I recognized a good number of girls and guys that I vaguely knew in high school. I wasn’t necessarily a prude, but I never wore anything nearly as revealing as I was wearing right now to class. I could see a good number of the girls whispering and giggling, while the guys looked both intrigued and excited.

“And how many of you are ready for Bella to strip?” Rather than raise hands, the whole room cheered and applauded this time. ‘Smirk. Keep the smirk. Everything is fine.’ I told myself as I looked over the sea of faces. Just for good measure, I put a hand on my hip so they both weren’t awkwardly resting by my sides.

“Ready, Bella?” Autumn smiled over at me. The question clearly wasn’t meant for answering, as Autumn snapped and pointed at the guy beside her. Apparently the DJ, as he turned to the laptop beside him and started up the music again. “Have fun!” The blonde's chipper voice sounded out over the music and cheers of the crowd.

And, before I could allow myself one more thought of fleeing, I began to dance.

Part Four

I wasn’t sure which was louder—my heartbeat, or the thumping bass from the vague club music the DJ turned back up for my ‘performance.’ 

Nervously, I began moving my body to the music. Despite years of dancing experience, my moves all felt a little bit rigid and awkward as I tried to match the pounding club music. I could hear a few laughs, no doubt from old classmates in disbelief that I would be doing something like this, but Autumn was quick to grab the microphone and tell them I was just warming up. The relief didn’t last long, as Autumn added on, “Just give her a minute. Bella is a stripper. She knows what she’s doing!” 

The reminder of my ‘profession’ made the heat rise to my cheeks, but that paled in comparison to the pressure the last sentence added. I’m supposed to know what I’m doing. They’re paying me all this money, and I did practice for two full days before this. Somehow, I needed to push past the doubt and awkwardness.

Little by little, I allowed my movements to get more fluid, though the self-conscious thoughts persisted. By the end of the first song, things finally started to feel more natural. I managed to tune the crowd out for the most part, the same way I did for recitals, and instead focused on feeling the music in my body. I was a good dancer; it was a natural talent I had honed. Sure, I didn’t like being the center of attention, but at least I was doing something I excelled at.

“When’s she going to strip?” A girl in the front row asked loudly. Her question set off a chain reaction of voices that were quickly directed more towards me than to each other. Cries of “Strip!” and “Take your clothes off!” came from a number of horny boys and amused girls in the crowd of the college party. 

As the next song started, I reluctantly obeyed. I ever so slowly began to lift my gray halter top, revealing the smooth skin just above my waist. What was I doing? But it felt like I had no choice. I was a stripper, at least for the night. I was annoyed that Autumn hadn’t been more specific on the phone, but I also partially blamed myself for not calling back to ask about those specifics. 

What could I do now? Every little motion was a mental battle with myself, though my body somehow knew to keep dancing throughout the whole experience. Thankfully, the crowd was on my side. They were cheering me on. The strangers were merely enjoying the show, though I definitely caught a few faces of former classmates that were relishing this surprising side of the somewhat reserved girl they knew in high school. Even so, they all seemed to appreciate what was coming.

Keeping a shaky grip on the hem of my top, I finally willed myself to pull it past my breasts. Realizing I was about to lose my nerve, I quickly yanked the thin fabric over my head and completely off my body before I could stop myself. Not the most smooth motion, but no one seemed to care. The crowd grew ecstatic as my black bra came into view. Glancing down, I realized just how much cleavage the undergarment was showing off as it held my full C cups together. Oh my God, and everyone was going to see how they moved once I started dancing again! 

“Keep your skirt on, Bella. For now!” Autumn’s voice boomed out over the music again. I glanced back to see the blonde still confidently standing next to her DJ friend. It wasn’t lost on me that she and I were dressed the same now. Black bottom layer and a bra, the rest of our skin available for everyone to see. “We still have plenty of time until midnight. Who wants the first lap dance??”

Once again, cheers filled the room, and a number of hands shot up into the air. The beginning of the dance and the act of stripping my top almost made me forget the rest of the things that I agreed to. It wasn’t just 45 minutes of dancing. It was giving dances to people, and not in the way I initially interpreted when I signed up for this.

“Looks like Luke is the only one who knows how this works!” Autumn exclaimed. I turned in horror to see a guy from high school who had asked me out at least ten times before graduation. Cocky, annoying, and incredibly persistent. I was 100% sure he only wanted me because he took my ‘prudish’ nature to be a challenge. Excuse me if I wanted to be with guys who I actually had a connection with. But now, the dark haired college freshman was sitting there with a grin and a green bill held up in his hand. “For those of you who don’t know how this works,” Autumn continued, “You don’t ever hand the money to a stripper. You find a more . . . creative way to give it to her.” It felt like the blonde was partially saying it for my benefit as well, considering I wasn’t actually what I was pretending to be.

I wanted to run, but I felt trapped. Topless, committed to the ‘job,’ and really wanting that $800 for next semester. It was just a dance. It didn’t mean anything. At least, those were a number of things I told myself to justify it. Stepping down from the table, I sauntered over towards the cocky boy in the leather chair.

As I lightly let my legs straddle him to close the distance, I gave him as much of a smirk as I could handle. “Hey, Luke.” I said it in the most seductive tone I could manage, trying to suppress the vomit at the same time. 

“Bella,” he gave me a knowing smile back. Obviously not much had changed. But this time, I couldn’t refuse his flirting. He held up the green bill, and I was a little offended to see it was literally just a $1 bill. “This is about how much you’re worth to me,” he said. Nice and quiet, so no one else could hear. And then, before I could think of a reply, he reached forward and stuffed the money in my bra.

Part Five

Oh. My. God.

For a moment, I actually felt Ryan’s fingers graze my bare breasts as he roughly shoved the dollar bill into my bra. Yet somehow, it wasn’t the momentary violation or the arrogant smirk that made me cringe. It was the fact that I felt the scratchy paper against my skin, and the peripheral vision of a green bill sticking out of my bra. The mortifying visual must have crushed any doubts about me being a proper stripper, and I knew right then that it would be the first bill of many. Yet I didn’t have time to think about that. 

I had to figure out how to give a lap dance. 

I had practiced a lot of things after Autumn’s call, but this was not one of them. And I had to figure it out on Ryan, of all people. “Well?” The dark haired asshole finally broke away from his blatant staring at my breasts to look me in the eyes. Of course, I knew what I had to do. And I didn’t need him to demean me in such a patronizing way.

Not saying a word, I just smirked right back at him. I had never been so grateful for my teachers forcing me to practice expressions in front of a mirror for dancing. It wasn’t my favorite assignment, but I had gotten to the point where I knew how to show what I wanted with my face, and could hold it and manipulate it for a full dance routine. Swallowing my pride, I leaned forward and placed my hand on his chest, shifting my hips to further straddle him. “If you touch me like that again, you don’t get a dance.”

Honestly, most of my lap dance ‘knowledge’ came from shows and movies. I had seen guys groping the girls’ asses, but had also seen clubs enforce the ‘no touching’ rule. Of the two, I quickly decided in the moment to go with the latter. If I let Ryan get away with it, it would set the tone for the rest of the night.

And then, hoping it wasn’t too awkward, I gave him a short dance. As I faced him, I reluctantly ran my hands along his face and chest, letting my hips and thighs constantly shift as I straddled him and moved to the music. To me, his attitude and the $1 payment was insulting enough that I leaned forward as if I was going to rub my breasts on his chest or his face, and then promptly stood up to turn around without giving him any satisfaction. Not knowing what Autumn had promised her guests, I then lowered myself back onto Ryan, this time straddling him with my skirt covered ass facing him. Only halfway through the next few series of motions did I realize that leaning over in such a way showed off a ton of cleavage to those watching from across the room.

At that realization, I felt my cheeks flush. Deciding that I was done with Ryan, and done with how my black bra didn’t cover nearly enough of my breasts in that position, I swiftly stepped away from the boy, hoping the dim room hid my light blush. Only then did I realize just how many eyes were on me as the music pounded away. Somehow, I convinced myself that the best way to keep my dignity was to keep dancing as if none of this bothered me. After all, Autumn and half her university friends were showing off just as much skin. Hell, Autumn herself was just wearing a bra like me. 

Still, I needed to continue satisfying the excited crowd. I was in too deep, the money was too good, and Autumn would kill me if I bailed on her now. Letting the false smirk rest on my face, I pushed back my loose red hair and strutted over to another raised hand holding a green bill.

I gave dance after dance. Save for the hands stuffing bills into my bra, everyone at least adhered to the no touching rule. The stares were actually worse than the dancing itself. I had long gotten over close contact with dance partners, and that somewhat bled over into the mortifying task of giving lap dances. But seeing the way that each guy shamelessly stared at my shifting cleavage made me constantly aware of just how exposed I was without my top on. And, while I couldn’t see it myself, I’m sure my ass got plenty of stares each time I did the second half of the ‘routine’ I was starting to develop.

Ten dances in, I concluded that straddling old classmates was WAY worse than straddling strangers. I tried my hardest not to focus on the girls who looked somewhat appalled at my behavior, or the onlooking guys who were loving every moment of my exposure. Thankfully, the music was loud enough that I couldn’t hear any of the conversations around the room. My bra was slowly getting more and more full of paper bills, all of which stuck out in the most damning and humiliating way. And, as I got up from yet another lustful boy’s lap, Autumn got my attention by calling out my name and raising a green bill of her own. 

I cringed internally, but managed to keep my performance up. Strutting over to the scantily clad blonde, I slowly lowered myself onto her as she generously slid a $20 bill into my bra. If the boys were lustful before, I could only imagine their excitement as two girls were face to face in nothing but bras. Her short shorts were technically more revealing than my skirt, but I could feel the gray fabric riding up on me every time I straddled somebody; Autumn included. 

“Just thought you’d want an update,” Autumn softly smiled, as I carefully placed my hand on her upper chest. Unlike the guys before her, the blonde below me had boobs, and I had to be careful not to land too close to them.

“What update?” I asked, blushing again as the crowd cheered when I began naturally moving to the music and ‘teasing’ Autumn with my body, the same way I had with the other boys.

Unlike everyone else, Autumn pulled out another bill, being a little more rough this time as she shoved it into the opposite bra cup from the first.

“You have 25 minutes left,” she said, leaning forward to whisper in my ear, “And it’s time to lose the skirt.”

Part Six

That’s right.

The earlier conversation with Autumn had explained as much. Her words from the bedroom echoed in my head. She had answered my question simply and to the point, but it didn’t change how daunting or embarrassing the answer was: “Your bra and underwear, Bella.”

Just when I had found my ‘stride’ giving lap dances with my cleavage constantly shown off to the whole party, I was reminded that there was more to do. And, considering I was currently straddling Autumn in said bra and with my skirt riding up, I was well past the point of calling this whole thing off.

“Bella.” Autumn poked the bare part of my breast to bring me back to reality. The surprise of being prodded that way kept me from snapping at her like I may have done to one of the guys, and I realized I had also been subtly swaying on her thighs even when I momentarily got lost in my thoughts. Damn dancer instincts. I wasn’t even sure if I was impressed or appalled with myself for doing so. “That’s two twenties. You should really mix your routine up. More money means a better dance,” she smirked, no doubt loving all the attention from all the onlookers. Our faces were still rather close, and her words were meant just for me, especially with the pounding music that filled the room and the rest of the house. “Let’s put on a good show, okay?”

“O-okay…” I muttered, meeting her eyes. Despite the trepidation in my voice, I managed to maintain the smirk I had plastered on my own face from the moment I walked in the room. And, taking a moment to collect myself, I got to work.

Guessing all the things I had already done to her and the boys before her weren’t quite enough, I started to improvise. My hands ran up and down her bare upper half, though I made a point to barely hover away from her chest each time, rather than actually touch her bra-covered boobs. And I got way closer with my face than I did with any of the guys. Inwardly cringing, I lowered myself to her chest, then shifted to her neck, and then to her lips, teasing her like I’m sure I had seen in some video at some point in my life. I was keenly aware of our bare legs constantly pressing against each others’ as well, but that paled in comparison to all the lewd motions I made to her upper half. 

Shit.

It took me way too long to realize it, but her hands were on my body too. Mostly holding my bare sides as I did all the work, but it still broke the physical contact rule I had enforced earlier. Maybe it wasn’t too late. “No touching,” I narrowed my eyes as I voiced my first and only personal stripper rule, and briefly took my hands off her body to pull her hands away. It didn’t matter if this was the most uncomfortable thing I had ever done. I may have been topless, but I was still a little in control.

Autumn just rolled her eyes, as if to say ‘fine.’

Guessing it was as good a time as any, I shifted back and stood up for a moment to turn around, then lowered myself down again to begin the second half of her dance. It was only once my skirt covered ass was in the blonde’s face that I realized the DJ was playing some club remix of “I Kissed A Girl.” 

Face lightly flushing, I ‘flaunted my body’ for everyone; my ass for Autumn, my boobs for anyone watching. Somehow, I kept a confident expression, but it somehow felt even more wrong to be doing this with a girl. It’s not that I’m against any kind of sexuality, but I’m just not into girls myself. Yet there I was, giving Autumn a lap dance as if I did it all the time. 

Remembering her point about how much she paid compared to everyone else, I even went the extra mile. When I had done about as much as I could creatively do with my body while straddling someone else, I got up and turned back around, leaning down as if I actually was going to make out with her. God, what was wrong with me? Half of me was playing the part, and the other half was thinking about the $800 I needed to ‘earn.’ But, instead of kissing her, I just gently took her blonde locks and walked away, letting her hair trail off in my fingers until she was out of reach.

Then it was time.

Autumn was my ‘boss’ for the evening, and she wouldn’t want me giving another dance without doing what she said first. So I tossed my own hair back and strutted back to the coffee table, stepping up onto the makeshift stage. I couldn’t believe I was about to do this, but I was already in WAY too deep. Halfway done with my commitment. I only needed to last another 20 minutes or so, and I could go home and take multiple showers to get rid of the gross feeling that straddling Ryan and a few other pervy boys gave me.

And, as I took the ‘stage,’ I also realized I could kill a little more time up there to avoid future lap dances. So I let my body move with the music, making a few sharp movements with my head and hips. The cheers were somehow both mortifying and mildly helpful at the same time. Doing something like this to a dead room would have been 100 times worse. 

But I couldn’t delay the inevitable forever. Allowing my smirk to grow into a confident grin, I hooked my fingers underneath the waistband of the short gray skirt, eternally grateful that it didn’t have a zipper. Ugh, bending over was going to show off my cleavage again, but it wasn’t like everyone hadn’t seen plenty already. Resigning myself to my self-imposed exposure, I sloooowly lowered the skirt to the cheers of the crowd. Partly because my perfectionist self wanted to put on a good show, but also because the proper side of me was still faintly resisting.

Regardless, I made it. As gravity took it the rest of the way, my gray skirt pooled around my ankles as I reluctantly stood back up. 

There I was, standing on the makeshift stage and baring my matching black bra and thong to the crowd. 

And there was still more to come.

Part Seven

The phrase “Sunk Cost Fallacy” had never been so apt than when I stood in just my plain black lingerie, surrounded by former classmates and total strangers. 

Everyone had already seen my top half swaying and bouncing and shifting as I danced in just a bra, and now the whole room could see most of my bare legs and ass. When I put on a thong earlier, it had been for the sake of avoiding panty lines in the tight skirt. In retrospect, panty lines would have been much preferable to showing dozens of people just about everything aside from my most private area.

But the current problem was the same as the previous problem. I had already come this far. If there was a time to bail, it would have been before I removed the skirt. But Autumn’s lap dance, especially the choice of song, had distracted me enough that my main focus was getting off her lap and to the next part of the evening. 

The moment my skirt pooled at my ankles, regret and reality washed over me. This was too much. Somehow, I had managed to justify topless lap dances, but being bottomless on a ‘stage’ raised the stakes. Everyone behind me could see my bare ass cheeks, and everyone else could see my bra stuffed with cash and only a triangle of fabric protecting the rest of my modesty. On top of the exposure, I was suppose to keep flaunting my body in this state of undress, and give more dances? No way.

Degrading myself like this was NOT worth $800. It wasn’t worth triple that number.

Could I just grab my skirt and run? Pull it back up first? There were a ton of problems with the ‘run away’ strategy. My purse was back up in the bedroom, and I had no idea where my shirt ended up after I stripped it off for the crowd. Getting out of here was going to be an enormous headache, and I was beginning to accept the fact that I’d be driving home topless with no money to show for giving up so much of my dignity. Autumn didn’t seem like the type to pay for an incomplete job. God, why did I let her talk me into this in the first place? I could have just left.

Making an executive decision, I stepped one foot at a time out of the skirt, trying my very hardest to keep the faint smile on my face like nothing was wrong. It would be easier to flee with skirt in hand than by making the plan obvious by partially dressing myself before running. Seeing countless cameras capturing my newfound exposure, I suddenly felt a wave of validation in regards to my choice to run away. My current image would require a ton of damage control if family or college friends saw any of this. No need to supplement that material with even more damning pictures and videos.

My hips swayed just enough so I wouldn’t awkwardly be standing on the table, and time seemed to slow down as I allowed an entire house party to stare at me in just my underwear. I used those mortifying few seconds to map my escape route; between the sofa and the armchair, past the DJ’s table, and back to the kitchen. Before I could overthink it, I leapt off the table, snatched up my skirt, and ran.

For a few moments, everything was a blur. From all around, I could hear jeering and complaining as the night’s main entertainment lost her nerve. No one tried to stop me, but pushing through the crowd left me vulnerable to all kinds of violations. As I was shoving my way past the pocket of audience members who had congregated between the furniture, I felt a few rough squeezes and slaps of my bare ass, but that was nothing compared to what came next. 

One of the last guys standing between me and the kitchen squared off with me and, with a disgusting grin, grabbed both of my breasts and squeezed. Gasping, I shoved him hard, so hard that he probably would have fallen on his ass if it weren’t for the kitchen table he ended up colliding with instead. Ignoring the insults and profanities he yelled after me, as if I was the bad guy for overreacting to him GRABBING my BOOBS, I raced for the stairs without looking back. 

The silver lining to publicly degrading myself? There were no other obstacles between me and the bedroom. Apparently my little show was enough to drag the whole house over to watch. I bounded up the stairs and back to the room where Autumn convinced me to go through with my ‘commitment,’ and slammed the door behind me. 

One big breath. And then I had to keep going. The privacy was much needed, but this wasn’t my bedroom and wasn’t my house. There was no time to relax or process or decompress. I quickly stepped back into the dark gray number, pulled it up my legs, and let out a sigh of relief once the skirt was situated where it was supposed to be. Next I pulled the money out of my bra cups, the sensation of paper-against-skin causing me to blush to myself now that I was thinking more clearly. God, I really was a stripper for a few minutes, wasn’t I?

Not bothering to count the total, I folded the stack of bills in half and went to put in my purse. Except my purse wasn’t there. I could practically feel my heart drop as I took in the empty dresser top. That meant no phone, no wallet, no keys. I distinctly remembered placing my things there before heading downstairs for the biggest mistake of my life, but now they were nowhere to be seen.

Before I could begin tearing the room apart to find where my stuff might have been moved to, however, I was interrupted by the telltale sound of a doorknob being twisted.

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, 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 . . .”

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.

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. The stage is yours!”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?”

Part Sixteen

“FOUR.”

Before I could fully process Zoey’s words, as I was still dealing with the horror of how I was exposed to the entire party and whatever devices were capturing this on picture or video, I felt the young blonde’s hands snaking around my body again. She gripped my bare breasts all over again, only this time it wasn’t for me. Rather than going for another aggressive squeeze, she shoved my boobs together to create an excessive amount of cleavage for our audience, before letting them drop. I gasped in embarrassment as they slightly bounced when gravity couldn’t take them any farther, and then Zoey firmly gripped my sides.

“THREE.”

Still poised by my ear, she sternly whispered, “Turn!” To show me what she meant, her hands began roughly swiveling me towards her. Reflexively moving my feet to keep my balance and avoid falling over from the unexpected jostling on the table that wasn’t particularly wide when two girls were on it at the same time, I followed her forceful movements until she and I were face to face. I was very much not dancing at this point, mostly due to the fact that I was still reeling from the fact that I had been unexpectedly stripped. Zoey yanked me in and we were suddenly in a deep embrace with my bare chest pressed up against her bra-clad breasts. As uncomfortable as the situation was, considering my own sexuality, I still ended up reluctantly wrapping my arms around her. My grip was a lot more hesitant than hers, especially since there was only bare skin to hold with how undressed she was. It wasn’t just my hands that had to deal with that, either. Her stomach was flush with mine, and there was plenty of thigh connection as well due to how she had maneuvered the two of us before pulling me in for what now appeared so much more passionate than a simple hug.

“TWO.”

Surely Zoey could see the mortified look in my eyes as she pressed her forehead to mine and gave me a flirty smirk. Or perhaps that was more for the crowd, as she clearly enjoyed putting on this show that involved her shamelessly stripping down as well. The difference was, Zoey was the kind of girl who liked strutting around in provocative outfits. Or, in this case, letting herself be just as caught on camera as I was while dancing in lingerie after being stripped by another girl. But of course she didn’t care. She was eighteen, overtly bold, and even had a channel where she danced suggestively while not technically ever being fully exposed to make a little extra cash. If anything, this would just be extra content for her. “Kiss me like you mean it, Bella,” Zoey murmured.

“ONE.”

Swaying left and right and using her hands to get me to match as we remained pressed together in a dauntingly intimate way, she added on, “If you don’t, say goodbye to your thong.”

I had absolutely no time to think. The moment she hit me with the threat, the room erupted in cheers as the clock struck midnight. Losing my bra had been bad enough; I couldn’t begin to fathom the thought of being truly naked in front of an entire room of people. Half strangers, half former classmates, all seeing the last shred of privacy I had left. My thong had basically already allowed everyone to see my ass for the last half hour, and Zoey had ensured that my boobs were both bared to the party and displayed in a variety of ways to everyone. Desperately wanting to avoid that last bit of modesty to be taken away from me, and unable to weigh the pros and cons in the span of a single second, I impulsively along with what I had been informed a while ago was part of this degrading ‘job’ that I had stupidly agreed to even after Autumn cleared up the miscommunication–a midnight kiss.

Throwing caution to the wind, I initiated the kiss myself.

My lips crashed into Zoey’s, and we were instantly making out far beyond any first kiss I had ever had with a boy. Locking lips again and again with each other, it didn’t take long for the two of us to find a rhythm. Though I had been the one to kick things off, Zoey quickly took the lead when she felt the subtle reluctance from my side. Because I wasn’t actually into girls. Because I didn’t kiss people in front of an audience. Because this was wrong on so many levels, and not remotely what I had signed up for. Even when I had caved and affirmed that I would be the party’s stripper in the name of being ‘professional’ and keeping Autumn from being screwed at the last minute, I was only supposed to go down to my bra and underwear! Like a bikini, or a skimpy dance routine outfit. Not fucking topless, and full on making out with a girl to avoid being stripped further. And yet, I persevered. Because at this point, I was in way too deep.

The whole room was cheering. It was difficult to tell if that was more because we had reached the end of the countdown, or if two barely dressed girls were kissing after so much build-up. I mostly couldn’t tell because I had lost all sense of time. Had Zoey and I been going at it for five seconds, or five minutes? The latter would make a lot more sense in terms of the crowd being hyped at the overlap between the midnight celebration and the sapphic scene before them. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Zoey was the one driving things at this point, and she would be the one who decided when we were done. If I cut things off too early, I would have made out with her for nothing. And between Autumn, Heather, and Zoey, I had to do whatever it took to avoid all of this getting worse for me.

As for the kiss itself, there wasn’t a great way to describe it. Since I was straight, and was constantly worried about my nudity and the repercussions of this whole evening, there wasn’t any noticeable enjoyment coursing through my body from my first experience ‘experimenting’ with the fairer sex. At the same time, however, I found myself breathless from how Zoey was constantly deepening the kiss and apparently never needing to come up for air. If that weren’t enough, she eventually plunged her tongue into my mouth. My squeak of surprise could have been construed as something more than what it actually was, and I found myself suddenly grateful for the pounding music and the noise of the crowd around us. Zoey probably heard, but no one else.

I did my best to roll my tongue against hers, feigning all the passion I could muster as I matched her energy the entire time. It wasn’t really possible for our bodies to be any closer together, yet she constantly gripped me and pulled me into her anyway. I reluctantly mirrored her with my own hands, cheeks no doubt crimson as my bare breasts were squashed between us. It’s not what I was used to when it came to pressing my chest against someone else’s, and I had no idea how to deal with another girl’s boobs rubbing against mine.

Zoey finally pulled back, but just enough to give me some false hope. I only had time for half a breath, and then she dove back in and locked lips with me all over again.

Part Seventeen

I was fully making out with Zoey.

There was still no pleasure; if anything, this was definitive proof that I very much was a straight girl. Her breasts against mine were awkward, her lips were softer than I was used to, and even the way she gripped me was noticeably feminine. Still, there was less reluctance on my end the more that we kissed. As weird as it sounded, I found it easier to get as lost as possible in the faux passion with Zoey, as a method to avoid thinking about the reality surrounding us. If I kept my eyes closed and focused on Autumn’s sister’s tongue, I could at least somewhat tune out the fact that I was nearly naked at a crowded party.

Also, kissing Zoey meant that I could cling to what little modesty I had left. While half the room had already gotten an eyeful of my bared breasts, which had been especially mortifying thanks to how Zoey had made them bounce around by both feeling me up and jerking my body around, our current chest-to-chest position meant that everyone else had only gotten a glimpse at best. It was such an absurd ‘victory’ to claim, but that’s how far I had fallen. Apparently making out with a girl was the current solution to covering my boobs, although it wasn’t exactly a permanent fix.

With every passing second, I breathed more life into the lie that I was into girls. I took a little solace in the fact that I hadn’t really kept up with any of my high school friends after graduation, so it’s not like this revelation would change anything once my next semester of college started . . . Or would it? If the wrong parent overheard someone my age talking about this, they could then potentially mention it to my parents if I ended up coming up in conversation. That was the thought that finally broke me out of the lengthy midnight lesbian kiss. I realized as I pulled back how stupid the impulse to do so was, considering that the damage had very much already been done where future gossiping was concerned.

Zoey met my eyes with that idle smirk of hers. She continued to hold me close, swaying her hips to ensure we continued to move for both the crowd, and a little bit against each other as well. “One last thing, Bella,” she murmured, “Then you can go.”

I could barely hear her over the pounding music. And what was she talking about? This had all been way more than I had signed up for, and Autumn had told me that midnight was the end of my commitment. I honestly had no idea how long I had been making out with Zoey, but it didn’t matter. One way or another, the countdown had come and gone, which meant that I was done. However, I was still reluctantly in performance mode, so I kept my expression confident while muttering back just for her, “No more, Zoey.” Besides, she wasn’t even the one in charge here. Heather was the one I was most intimidated by, although Autumn was the one who had started all this. While Zoey was likely in on this with her sister, I doubted she was the one making the calls.

Giving a small eye roll, although somehow managing to make it look flirty for anyone that wasn’t me, she leaned in and gave my lips a peck. “It’s easy, babe. Just dance one more song by yourself. It’ll be hotter now that you’re stripped down!”

“No!” I snapped, as it dawned on me what she was suggesting. Fuck no! It was one thing to bare my chest to the crowd when I hadn’t seen it coming, and even that had been beyond degrading. Zoey was out of her mind if she thought I was going to dance for everyone without a bra on. “It’s midnight. I’m going the fuck home.” Screw the audience; I gave Zoey a much more serious look this time around to let her know that I wasn’t messing around.

“Stuck up as always, aren’t you?” she scoffed.

Before I was ready for the exposure, Zoey’s hands traced down to my hips. She took a step back while simultaneously nudging me away from my waist. Then, similar to what she had done with my bra, the smirking blonde pulled the majority of the bills out of my thong. I had reflexively brought my arms up to cover my chest, but was suddenly scared that she was going to yank my last shred of clothing down. That’s what she had done with the bra after taking the money out, after all.

Instead, she did something much worse. Abruptly lunging forward, Zoey shoved me with her full weight, not to mention the added momentum she had given herself.

I stumbled a few steps backwards, completely unable to find my balance before I reached the edge of the coffee table. Gasping at the unexpected drop, I wasn’t able to stop myself from falling in the slightest. Instead of crashing to the ground, however, I was caught by the crowd. My relief was short lived, as it took all of one second for the ones who saved me to turn against me. It was like when I had pushed through everyone earlier, but so much worse. At least then, I had the element of surprise on my side, as well as my feet on the ground.

Instead of simply dropping me now that there wasn’t a risk of me hurting myself from the new height, those who were holding me shifted their grips until I was being groped both above and below. I squeaked and squirmed in discomfort as someone started squeezing my bare boobs while a separate set of hands started copping a feel of my ass. Similar to how my thong did next to nothing where my modesty was involved, it also did very little to protect my mostly bare backside from anyone who could now reach me down there. Finally finding my voice when someone else started feeling up my chest alongside the first person, I exclaimed, “HEY. Put me down!”

My protests were completely lost amidst the still pounding music and the eager crowd that now had a nearly naked girl in its grasp. Pretty much everyone around me started putting their hands on me where they could, especially on my most private areas. All bets were off now that there wasn’t the social line that had existed while I was a ‘stripper’ on my stage. Even the lap dances had rules, and enough people had been watching that each individual had shown at least a little restraint. But now I was topless, and my sudden proximity changed everything. The majority of them were probably more drunk than an hour ago, and the mob mentality quickly settled in. Lowered inhibitions, some lust from watching another girl stripping me and kissing me, and able to get away with feeling me up when everyone else was doing it anyway? None of them hesitated when given such an opportunity.

They were all far more interested in touching me than holding me, so my body eventually settled towards the floor amidst the chaos. The second I could move my limbs without tumbling down, I started randomly kicking in the hopes of giving myself a little space to break free of the countless horny boys.

That was when Autumn stepped in. And not in a good way.

Part Eighteen

Over the speakers, so she could be clearly heard over the chaos around me, Autumn announced, “Whoever brings me her thong gets to make out with yours truly!”

Her words sank in after the smallest of beats. Everyone around me had been a little more hesitant when I had started thrashing my legs, but now the hot blonde across the room had succeeded in encouraging everyone in more ways than one. Although I wasn’t the lesbian she and Zoey had been portraying me as, I couldn’t deny that Autumn was objectively very attractive. So the reward of kissing her, on top of the fact that doing so would result in me being fully naked? Of course that would work to motivate a crowd of already eager guys.

Girls, too. Before I could utter a single word of protest, a female behind me said, “Come on, get her arms!” She and another girl had me in an instant. With two hands to each of my one, my squirming did next to nothing to get out of their grip. The downside to my struggle was that my unfettered boobs were no doubt putting on quite the show. I was focusing more on the people around me, rather than my chest, although I could feel my breasts bouncing about erratically without a bra to hold them in place. It was obviously mortifying, but also all kinds of uncomfortable. “She’s all yours, boys!” the other girl said. I vaguely recognized the voice, although it wasn’t one of the usual suspects from this degrading evening. But someone I knew? Whether it was an old classmate or a total stranger, I was still shocked a couple girls would do this to me. Certainly they could imagine what this would be like if they were in my shoes??

In the ongoing theme of ‘this night can get worse,’ Ryan was the one to approach me from the front. Rather than going right for the challenge Autumn had tasked everyone with, he just looked down at me with that smug smile of his and nodded his head in my direction. Two of his friends stepped forward and made to grab my legs. Since I could actually see what they were planning, I was way more prepared than I had been for the girls behind me. The second one of them got within range, I kicked him in the stomach. Admittedly, I had been aiming for the crotch, but I wasn’t in the best position for accuracy.

“Fucking bitch,” he grunted, clearly winded from the blow.

Unfortunately for me, the victory was short lived. I was outnumbered, and the second guy succeeded in grabbing my ankle while I was busy dealing with the first. Using my free leg, I tried to flail up and get his face however I could. I was stopped before I could even get close. Not by the guy still clutching his stomach, but by somebody else who wasn’t part of their little trio. Because everyone around me was on the same team when the goal was to strip the girl who was one little shred of fabric away from being totally naked.

The crowd around me wasn’t just passively watching things unfold, either. Just as I had registered the fact that my other leg was now being held as firmly as the first one, someone beside me reached in and gave one of my boobs a rough squeeze. “Do that again! She likes it,” one of the girls holding my arms giggled, interpreting my gasp of surprise as a reaction of pleasure.

“Don’t!” I countered, finding my voice again. Fighting back physically had done next to nothing, so I was on to other desperate methods. “Let go! I’m not a stripper. I’m-” A sharp pinch to my nipple shut me up really quickly. Wincing and sharply inhaling, I also blushed when I felt an entirely different hand starting to play with my opposite breast.

“Come on, guys. We can all take turns,” Ryan said. He didn’t have a microphone like Autumn, but he made sure to speak assertively enough to be heard over the nearby voices and still pounding music. “How about it, Bella?” Once he was sure my legs were no longer a danger to him like they had been to his friend, he came over and knelt down beside me, “Do you want everyone feeling you up, or just me?” With that, he pushed away one of the hands that had been fondling me.

While the guy reluctantly gave up my breast, he didn’t back down completely, “You just want her thong!” he accused Ryan.

“Yeah,” the other guy said. Giving my other breast a squeeze, he added, “You want both girls? Fuck you.”

“Autumn is all yours,” he replied. It wasn’t clear who he was talking to, considering how many surrounding people would be interested in making out with the blonde, “Think about it. Does it really matter who strips Bella? You’ll just fight over the thong itself afterwards.”

“And you get to strip her because . . . ?”

“Because I know her. Because I can make her do this.” He reached out and placed his own hand on my breast. After telling the other guy to stop for a moment, although letting him stay on the other side to keep the peace, Ryan explained, “Bella doesn’t like roughness. But if you put a little pressure here, and tweak her nipple with your thumb like so . . . ”

I softly inhaled at his touch, my eyelids fluttering for half a second in pleasure before coming back to my senses. How?! How the fuck did he know that worked? I was the opposite of turned on amidst everything that was happening to me, and yet Ryan of all people managed to coax out a fleeting moment of pleasure anyway. I looked up at him in pure shock. Until the lap dance I begrudgingly gave him earlier, the two of us hadn’t come remotely close to doing anything physical together. So, again. How?

Apparently that was enough to convince the other guy to back off. Ryan was quick to palm my other breast, and he gave me that cocky smirk I was all too familiar with. “Tell you what, babe,” he said, giving my nipples mirrored brushes that caused me to tense up, “I have some spare clothes in my car. Want me to get you out of here?”

I was desperate, but I wasn’t that desperate. Scowling up at him, I shook my head. For starters, I doubted he actually had the ability to even get me out of the living room. Not when countless guys wanted their turn pawing at my bare skin, and when Autumn had the mic. Plus there was Heather, and I didn’t love the idea of leaving without making sure she would back off. Regardless, I assumed Ryan was just toying with me. I didn’t appreciate the false hope he was attempting to offer.

“You’re sure?” he asked. After giving another one of those confusingly effective squeezes to both my boobs, one of his hands trailed down my stomach until he was positioned to hook two of his fingers underneath the waistband of my thong. “Would you prefer this?” He gave a teasing downward tug.

“No!” I blurted out. I couldn’t help myself. With the only dignity I had left at stake, it was impossible to act tough despite my distaste for Ryan.

“Then I guess you’re going to have to do something for me,” he said.

Part Nineteen

Ryan’s ask wasn’t creative in the slightest.

In fact, it was kind of predictable. He leaned in so the others surrounding me wouldn’t hear him over the music and the rest of the noise filling the room. Meeting my eyes with a cocky smile, he murmured, “Kiss me, and I’ll get you out of here.”

If I were thinking more clearly, I would have outright rejected him. My recent skepticism was still vaguely present, as I couldn’t see how he would possibly get me through a crowd that was eager to strip me and/or see me fully naked once the job was done. Autumn’s offer was obviously enticing as well. At the same time, however, Ryan had convinced some of the nearest guys to back off. And now that he was threatening to remove my thong, listening to my internal logic was a lot more challenging. I didn’t want to lose the last of my modesty, and I did very much want to escape this party and audience.

Sensing my hesitation, he said, “What’s it going to be, Bella?”

Throwing caution to the wind, I went for it. I had already made out with a girl despite being straight, and already given Ryan a lap dance. While a kiss was a lot more intimate than how I had been flaunting my body earlier, I could still somewhat disassociate from it when it was with someone I was hardly attracted to. Before I could talk myself out of the impulsive decision, I lunged forward as best as I could while on the ground and locked lips with him.

I was lucid enough to assume that he meant more than a PG peck. Aiming to fully rip off the band-aid in the name of getting out of this mess, I kissed him way more deeply than I had done with Zoey. Getting my tongue involved sooner rather than later when I felt his own prodding my lips, I kept my eyes tightly closed and tried to imagine that I was making out with one of the attractive guys at my college instead.

What I hadn’t prepared myself for was Ryan’s hands. Repeating his perfect move before, at least where my body was concerned, he gave a firm yet gentle squeeze with his fingers and rounded out the gesture by brushing his thumb over my nipple. Unable to help myself, I hummed a guttural moan into his lips and slightly arched into his hand for more. By the time I came to my senses, it was too late. There was no hiding the fact that his maneuver worked on me, to the point where I had briefly lost myself in the kiss despite the mortifying situation I was in. While it was confusingly effective, however, it was also enough to snap me back to reality. Slightly pulling back, although keeping my lips against his as a borderline slutty tactic to keep us suspended in the moment in case the crowd was waiting for us to be done to move things along themselves, I whispered, “Your turn.”

He responded by nipping my lower lip with his teeth. “You call that a kiss?” With a breathy scoff, he said, “Not good enough, lesbian.” Suddenly, with no warning, he dropped his hand from my breast and mirrored the grip he had on my thong with his other hand. Contrasting the teasing tug from earlier, he abruptly yanked down on the fabric and pretty much had it past my most private area in a single pull.

Gasping in horror at both the sensation of being stripped, as well as the fact that I was now mostly bared to the world from how I could no longer feel the triangle of my underwear covering what it was supposed to, my eyes snapped open as I exclaimed, “NO.” It came out way more shrill than my previous protest, for good reason, although there was very little I could do to prevent it. Ryan’s friends were still holding my arms, and another aggressive yank on the fabric proved that trying to pin the thong to the floor with my thighs was not enough to counter his momentum. “Ryan, don’t! You said-” I cut myself off when I felt the thong approach my kneecaps despite my best efforts to slow him down. If he made it much farther, there would be no stopping him from fully taking it off. Doing something incredibly stupid in my panic, I parted my thighs, using them to stretch out the thong and create as much resistance as possible.

“Oh, my God! What a fucking slut!”

“Wait, she doesn’t even like boys!”

“No, but she obviously likes their attention.”

I could hear the judgmental comments of the two nearby girls clear as day. That was when I noticed that pretty much every guy surrounding me was staring down at my now bare crotch. And I was splaying myself to give them a crystal clear view. Mortified about how I must look now that the girls had framed it in such a horrible way, I basically slammed my thighs back shut, making sure that one was slightly higher than the other so I could partly cross them and hide my womanhood from all the onlookers.

Of course, every decision I made came with a cost. While I had succeeded in belatedly concealing myself where it counted the most, I was back to being basically helpless where my thong was involved. Now nothing was stopping Ryan from removing the garment. I was tempted to start kicking to make things more difficult for him, except that would result in somewhat spreading my legs all over again for everyone. In a matter of seconds, he whisked the thong the rest of the way down and made short work of slipping it off my feet.

Just like that, I was fully naked in the middle of a sea of drunk guys.

While Ryan had gone back on his word after I made quite the effort to kiss him, he seemed happy to follow through on how he had told the others that they could have Autumn for themselves. “All yours!” he announced, to no one in particular. Stretching the waistband out, he released his grip and allowed the thong to slingshot itself into the air. No doubt to keep himself from being tackled the second everyone turned their attention from my newfound exposure to the fact that whoever managed to bring my underwear to the front of the room would be rewarded. His self preservation came at my expense, of course, as the sounds of a few guys fighting over the thong halfway across the room marked the reality that there was truly no chance I had left of getting it back.

Meanwhile, my tribulations were far from over. I had been stripped like Autumn had set me up to be, but the party host hadn’t given any instructions to her guests beyond that. With lowered inhibitions and plausible deniability due to the number of others doing the same, it wasn’t long before I was being ‘helped’ to my feet by those who had previously been pinning my arms back, while being thoroughly groped in the process by pretty much anyone who could get their hands on me.

I had already dealt with my chest being grabbed at, but I was absolutely not prepared for the rest. Before I could process the presence of someone’s fingers arriving between my thighs, he was shoving them inside me.

Part Twenty

My eyes widened and I gasped in pure shock at the invasion of my most private area.

It was definitely not a sharp inhale of pleasure, though I belatedly realized it might be perceived as such. Everyone around me had already witnessed my reaction to Ryan’s touches, but a few boob squeezes didn’t mean that I was suddenly horny enough to be interested in being publicly fingered.

If anything, the audacity of the total stranger who was doing so was what I needed to come to my senses. I was fully nude in a crowd of former classmates and people I had never met, and it was going to stay that way until I did something about it. I certainly wasn’t going to get any help from Ryan or anyone else who was capitalizing on my misfortune and pretending to be an ally. As for Heather . . . Technically I couldn’t do ‘whatever she said’ if she didn’t have a chance to tell me to do anything else. Regardless, I needed to deal with the present situation first.

Writhing away from as many hands as possible, I shoved the most intrusive arm away at the same time while yelling, “HEY. Don’t fucking touch me!!” I normally tried to avoid confrontation, or excessively raising my voice, but this was obviously a unique circumstance. Hoping that the pounding music kept me from sounding like too much of a bitch to those that weren’t directly surrounding me, I pushed through a couple people in the direction of the nearest doorway.

Of course, one little outburst wasn’t enough for a crowd like this to simply part and let me through. My breasts were like magnets for pretty much any guy that could get a handful, and there were only so many arms I could slap away while trying to make forward progress. Then there was my backside, which there was literally nothing I could do about. I had to endure countless squeezes, slaps, and pinches as I kept my focus on moving towards the hallway that was slightly more lit than the living room was. If I stopped moving for even a second, I would risk being surrounded all over again.

I was appalled at just how shameless everyone was. While they weren’t collectively working to block my path, there didn’t seem to be a single guy who could keep his hands away. And thanks to how this had all been framed by Autumn and the others, none of the girls in the room seemed interested in helping me. The few that I glimpsed amidst the chaos of being felt up by practically everyone in the room seemed ashamed and/or judgmental towards me, rather than sympathetic to my plight.

Despite my determination to remove myself from the ongoing degradation, I wasn’t able to maintain a serious demeanor amidst all the sensations my body had to deal with. I was blushing nonstop and making all kinds of embarrassing noises as pretty much every inch of myself was being hit in inconsistent ways that ended up being far more rough and uncomfortable than pleasurable. Squeaking and hissing and often inadvertently squirming in response to a nipple pinch or sharp spank, it was all I could do to keep shoving past each new clump of party guests while keeping one hand firmly clasped over my crotch.

Similar to the last time I fled the scene, I ended up with one last obstacle just before reaching the edge of the room. Instead of a smirking guy this time, however, it was a girl. She appeared right in front of me, positioning herself in a way where I ended up hesitating for a moment due to how I wasn’t sure how to get around her. Before I could figure out whether left or right was the best option, she swiftly palmed my breasts and gave a hard squeeze. Turning her attention to my nipples, she pinched and twisted with her fingertips to the point of pain.

I briefly tried to squirm away when she didn’t relent, only to find that struggling made things even worse as I pretty much ended up torturing my own nipples by pulling against her vice-like grip. “Wait-” Barely making it that far, I cut myself off with a squeak of pain as her nails dug into my flesh and she twisted more intensely in opposite directions.

“Kiss me, and I’ll stop,” she said. Her smug, calm tone was such a contrast to her actions.

A male voice from behind me exclaimed, “Kiss her, Bella!” Emphasizing his encouragement with a sharp slap to my ass, he followed up the strike by pinching me down there.

It was all too much. I was so close to escaping the packed room of drunk and overly bold individuals. Not only did I want to relieve the nipple pain that was nothing like I had ever experienced, but every second of being stuck where I was risked all the guys behind me groping at my backside and potentially following me out of the room. They hadn’t done so the first time around, although I hadn’t been naked back then. Out of desperation, and perhaps a bit of impulsiveness, I lunged forward and locked lips with the girl.

Right away, I was ‘rewarded’ by her slightly easing up on the pinching. Not enough for me to risk abruptly pulling away, but definitely better than a few seconds ago. Similar to how I had fully committed with Zoey, I put as much passion as possible into this kiss as well. Our bodies couldn’t really press together, as her hands were on my boobs and my hand was over my crotch, but I leaned into her to the best of my ability anyway. Whatever I could do to satisfy the physical extortion she had sprung on me.

She kissed me back right away, clearly having no qualms about doing so with an audience. Although if Zoey could do it on our makeshift stage, of course one of Autumn’s friends or acquaintances was fine going for it at the far end of the room. I was the one who initiated, yet the girl before me was quick to take charge and plunge her tongue into my mouth to heighten the kiss mere seconds after it had started. Since I wasn’t actually a lesbian, or the slut that I now seemed like, it was all I could do to keep up with her soft and experienced lips while constantly hoping it would be enough.

I must have been doing something right, as she eventually pulled back after what could have easily been ten seconds or two minutes of making out. While some of the people around us had been content to watch the girl/girl action, there were a few who hadn’t let up on making the most of a bottomless girl’s backside being within reach. As if the deep lesbian kiss wasn’t enough to deal with, I ended up being squeezed and slapped down there pretty much the entire time as well.

“That was fun, Bella,” she murmured. Fully releasing my nipples, she gave one of my breasts a small pat, “You can go now.”

Doing just that the moment I came back to my senses again as she stepped aside, I rushed past her and finally made it into the hallway. Next, I had a huge decision to make–Run upstairs to find my things, or go for the front door and deal with that later when Autumn’s house wasn’t full of people?

Part 21

I realized after about one second that the front door was a stupid idea.

What was I going to do after escaping the party in such a way? I was still buck naked, it was still winter, and my house was way too far away for me to just make a run for it. Definitely not wanting to linger in the foyer when so many people had seen me flee the previous room, I darted upstairs and back to the same room I had retreated to after my first round of stripping. Hastily closing the door behind me, and really wishing it had a lock, I quickly scanned the bedroom for my clothes. Breathing a sigh of relief when I saw that my skirt was still lying on the floor where I had kicked it off earlier, I wasted no time in grabbing the garment and pulling it on.

When I first stepped into the room, I had been mentally preparing myself to look through the drawers for something to wear in case Heather had hidden my clothes. Turns out there was no need; my top was still folded where I had left it back when it was me and Ashley up here. Not having underwear to go with the skirt was one thing, as it’s not like anyone would be able to see that when looking at me. A tight halter top without a bra, however, was a different story. I was just grateful it was black, as a lighter color would have been even more obvious. Speaking of borrowing something in the bedroom, maybe there was a bra that would somewhat fit me . . . ?

No, I needed to keep my eye on the prize. Though my New Year’s Eve outfit had been just where I had left it, the rest of my possessions were still nowhere to be seen. Honestly, I didn’t even care that much about my phone or wallet at the moment. If I could just find my keys, I could deal with the rest of it tomorrow. The problem was, they could literally be anywhere. In Autumn’s room, maybe? Or, worse, somewhere downstairs. I didn’t know the blonde or the house nearly well enough to make an educated guess beyond the obvious.

Deciding to stay where I was for a minute, mostly because the privacy was beyond refreshing, I checked a number of spots where a tipsy Autumn might have stashed my things. There was always the chance that she hadn’t been clever about it, and merely shoved them into the nearest drawer before following me out of the room earlier. Apparently I wasn’t going to catch a break there. There was nothing in the desk, or under the pillow, or in the dresser. That last one was an attempt to kill two birds with one stone, but there wasn’t a bra to be seen in one of the upper drawers. My best guess was that it was a guest bedroom that doubled as a storage room or maybe an auxiliary closet for the sisters.

Sighing to myself, I made my way over to the door and tentatively cracked it to make sure no one was waiting on the other side. Padding out into the hallway, not that there was really a need to be quiet when I could hear how midnight hadn’t really changed the vibe of the party below, I scanned the upper floor in an attempt to figure out which room was Autumn’s. She and I had walked in on a couple making out in the one I had just spent a couple minutes in, and I was hesitant to open any closed door with that in mind. Kissing was easily the tamest thing I could imagine at a rager like this, especially now that most people’s inhibitions would be lower than an hour ago.

Would anyone dare mess around in Autumn’s room? She was the host, but it was also such a big party. There had to be a number of people who had never been here before, and I doubted she was bothering with tours when there was drinking and socializing to do.

Still, I couldn’t just stand around and do nothing. Realizing there was a pretty easy way to figure out which rooms were safe, I went from door to door and listened for a few seconds at each. Awkward as it was, as there were a couple spaces that were currently ‘occupied,’ I caught a lucky break when one of the empty rooms ended up being Autumn’s. Though she was in college like I was, there were still plenty of old pictures around to signify that this was her bedroom, rather than Zoey’s.

Under normal circumstances, it would feel weird to be snooping in another girl’s room without knowing her that well or being invited in. But after everything she and Heather pulled, I didn’t feel particularly guilty. Plus I was stuck at this party until I found my keys, and everyone present would now see me as the ‘stripper’ that they had all seen naked. That all made it pretty easy to justify my current actions.

Of course, I still had absolutely no idea where to start. It had been one thing to settle on her bedroom itself, but it was something else entirely to actually be in there with no bearings. After taking a cursory scan of the space, I repeated my process from the previous room when I didn’t immediately see my stuff. Drawers first, followed by checking under outfit pieces and anything else a small collection of belongings could be hiding. Groaning to myself after a few minutes, I flopped down onto the bed and started considering other options. Could someone else drive me home? Ryan had technically offered, but there was no way in hell I would press him of all people to follow through. Preferably, I’d want a girl, and one who was actually sympathetic to my plight rather than all those female audience members who seemed more judgmental towards my little show earlier. On top of that, I obviously needed someone who was sober. Tall order, considering the types Autumn surrounded herself with.

Oh.

Obviously.

There was a better way. All I really needed was for someone to order me a ride; that was both easier and simpler than trying to find an individual who checked all the boxes I had run through in my head. Still required finding someone willing to spend New Year’s Eve prices on me, too.

No matter what, there was one thing that all my solutions had in common–I had to head back downstairs and brave the main floor again. It was a miracle Autumn or Heather hadn’t come looking for me yet, and I didn’t want to imagine what the former girl might do if she caught me in her room.

With that in mind, I stepped back out into the hallway and closed the door behind me like it had been before I let myself in.

Tentatively placing my hand on the banister at the top of the stairs and taking a deep breath, I took the first downward step.

Back towards the party, where everyone viewed me as a stripper.

Part 22

Falling back on one of my mental options from a few minutes ago, I decided that heading outside was the best idea. I did so immediately upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, as the winter air wouldn’t be quite as bad now that I was dressed again.

Sure enough, there were a few people braving the cold for the sake of smoking. It wasn’t a habit I ever planned on taking up, though I tried not to judge. At the moment, I was far more inclined to talk to a small group in a secluded spot than risk the mob mentality from earlier that gave so many people in the crowded living room an excuse to feel me up. Though I was wearing clothes, there were probably countless people who assumed it was fine to violate my personal space now that I had been presented as a slutty stripper who was there for just that reason.

“Umm, hey,” I greeted, feeling rather nervous and awkward about my approach. The trio didn’t look familiar to me in the slightest. Maybe we went to high school together? I had no idea.

“Nice show in there,” one of the guys chuckled, “You off the clock, or is there still time to request a lap dance?”

Slightly flushing at how I was being perceived as a girl who could be talked to like that when everything I did earlier was such a far cry from my usual personality and behavior, I made a point to stay as polite as possible due to my current circumstances and needs. “Can I ask a favor of one of you? Please?” I asked. Stretching the truth a bit, as I was fairly confident Autumn had intentionally tucked my belongings away in a place I wouldn’t easily find them, I said, “I lost my phone. Could I borrow one of yours and order myself a ride? I promise I’ll pay you back.”

“It’s free of charge if you flash us your boobs,” he winked.

“Don’t be a dick, Josh,” the guy next to him said, “Bella, right? You can use mine.”

“Thank you,” I exhaled in relief. Fucking finally. A single decent person who wasn’t viewing me as an object or a target since this all began. My guard was still up, of course, but he ended up handing me his phone without any strings or belated games involved. He had even pulled up the necessary app for me. I quickly put in my information, along with a note that the ride was for me rather than what the account would show. Then I took a minute to find his Venmo so I could request the amount from myself. Though I was desperate to get back to my place, I wasn’t about to let this guy pay for it himself.

Then I just had to wait. I was definitely not wearing enough clothes for the now January weather, but I also wasn’t about to head inside and deal with any more party guests and former classmates than I had to. The guys tried to strike up a conversation with me once or twice; my curt answers quickly made it clear that I wasn’t interested. It was admittedly a little bit bitchy of me, especially when one of them had been so kind as to lend me his phone for what I needed, but I was just so done with the night.

Thanking him one more time when he informed me that my ride was almost there, I scurried off the front porch and down the driveway. My own car was parked halfway down the street; similar to how I was abandoning my phone and wallet for the time being, that was going to have to be tomorrow’s problem. After I dealt with the reality of the last few hours, which still hadn’t fully hit me. I was low key in denial about the whole thing, as if it was some other surreal version of myself that had done all that. Stripping down on a makeshift stage, getting countless bills stuffed into my underwear, giving lap dances and making out with a girl and doing all kinds of other things with her in front of everyone . . .

Shaking off those memories to the best of my ability, trying not to think about Zoey grinding me and taking my bra off to reveal my bare breasts for dozens of people to see, I got in the back seat of the car I ordered for myself. My arms were still firmly wrapped around my chest, both because of the cold and the fact that I was wearing a tight top without a bra. The driver got the memo pretty quickly that I wasn’t going to be the talkative type.

Without a phone or anything else to distract me, it was tough to not get lost in my thoughts and memories. I tried to focus on the music quietly playing in the car, the familiar landmarks we were driving past, anything that would keep me from reliving this and that from Autumn’s party. As soon as we neared my neighborhood, it was easier for me to focus on the present–though my parents knew that I was going to be out late, I was still going to be ‘sneaking in’ in terms of not waking them up. Less because I was being a thoughtful daughter, and more that I selfishly didn’t want to deal with any smalltalk when I was in such a scattered and mortified headspace.

Hopping out of the car and taking the side door of the house as quietly as possible, I made it as far as the main floor before realizing someone might think it odd that I ended up home while my car was nowhere to be seen. And without my phone, I was left doing things the old fashioned way–jotting down a note that I made it back safely, and that someone gave me a ride. Honestly, my parents were the least of my problems at this point.

With that taken care of for the time being, I padded up the stairs to the second floor and successfully made it to my bedroom undetected. Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, I found myself unsure of what to do next. My mission of escaping Autumn’s party and making it back home was complete, which was quite the win considering how so many things had been stacked against me, but . . . Heather’s threat was still in play, and I didn’t even want to start thinking about how many phones had been trained on me as I was eventually stripped completely naked in the middle of the crowded room.

I decided to settle in for a night of restless sleep. There wasn’t much else I could do at nearly 1 AM on New Year’s Day. Tomorrow would have to be damage control, amidst other things. Maybe I’d even have a clearer head in the morning.

Maybe my reputation, modesty, and dignity wouldn’t be completely obliterated as badly online as it had been in person.

Part 23

As expected, sleep didn’t come easily.

I tossed and turned for what felt like hours. Without my phone to verify the time, I had absolutely no idea how long it actually took to drift off. It made me wish I still had the analog clock that had been on my nightstand while I was growing up. Though I was both physically and mentally exhausted, that was juxtaposed with a combination of flashbacks and projections.

At some point, I ended up crashing. Thankfully, once I was out, I was out. My subconscious wasn’t rude in terms of recreating any of those memories; in fact, I didn’t dream at all. Next thing I knew, I was squinting against the morning sun and groaning in annoyance. Did I not close the blinds last night? For a moment, I was considering rolling over and using the covers to block the light and maybe sleep in a little bit more. Then, everything came rushing back to me.

“Shit,” I muttered to myself. Yep, now I was awake.

Everything came rushing back to me and I couldn’t help but blush bright red in the privacy of my room. For whatever reason, it had been easier to disassociate last night when one step led to the next, and so on. The pounding music, the party setting that was so different from the smaller gatherings I usually attended, the justifications that I had to do this to avoid that. It was something else entirely when I was in my bedroom, in my parents’ house, and my real life was clashing with the events of Autumn’s party in an overwhelming way.

Did I really do all that?! I had literally been dancing topless, and then stripped naked after putting on such an inappropriate show with Zoey. And . . .

Quickly sitting up and reaching for my phone, the sight of the empty charger reminded me that the device wasn’t here. It was back at Autumn’s house, along with a couple other important things.

I had my laptop, however. For the moment, social media was my main concern, and I could at least check a couple accounts from my desk. I tossed my covers aside and hopped out of bed, as if hurrying would do anything to affect the damage that would have been done for hours at this point. Though I was quick to cross the room and log in, I froze as soon as I opened the browser.

As long as I didn’t check, I could exist in denial for a little bit longer. Maybe it had been a nightmare. Maybe every single person at that party had kept their photos and videos to themselves. But I had to know. Taking a deep breath and steeling myself, I navigated to my profile page . . .

My heart immediately sunk as I saw just how many times I had been tagged. As if in a trance, I clicked through photo after photo, not fully processing the fact that it was me I was looking at. After all, everything had been from my own perspective the previous evening. This was the first time I was seeing myself performing like a stripper from the outside. Straddling some guy, while dancing provocatively in just my skirt and bra. Bending over as I eventually took that skirt off, with my ass almost completely on display, as my thong did very little in terms of modesty back there. Smirking on the table-stage while countless dollar bills were sticking out of my bra cups and underwear waistband.

After looking through dozens of mortifying photos, all of which I immediately reported and untagged myself from along the way, I noticed that I had yet to stumble across any nudes I had been dreading. The closest I came across so far was my make-out session with Zoey, where it was clear from the angle that I was fully topless, but my breasts were pressed against the other girl’s chest enough that only so much of me could be seen in the photo. Of course, the sapphic image of me and an eighteen year old was its own issue, but still. I doubted everyone at the party individually decided that they should draw the line at nudity, so I had to assume it was the advanced features of the site flagging the pics before they were uploaded for the world to see.

Okay, so it wasn’t quite as bad as I had feared. But it was still pretty bad.

My phone and laptop weren’t synced, so I couldn’t see if any of my friends had messaged me about the hundreds of slutty photos that had been posted. It had taken nearly thirty minutes to take my name off every picture and video, and there was no guarantee that was the end of it. Any number of Autumn’s guests could be sleeping in after partying hard and then . . .

Wait, what if I deleted my accounts? Simple in theory, yet more and more complicated as I thought it through. Many of my current classmates and dancer friends were early risers, so it’s not like I would be keeping this from a number of them. Plus I’d lose a lot of important contacts and groups, and would no longer have the ability to report anything. On the flip side, at least no one could tag me, and it would definitely mitigate future views. Not that anything could permanently fix the problem, as the internet is forever, not to mention texts and gossip and whatever else.

After a few minutes of deliberation, most of which was spent staring at a collection of images of me grinding Autumn, I decided that it was worth trying. I could always start a new profile from scratch and get most of what I had back. For now, I needed to focus on the bigger picture. Get off the grid in terms of my online presence, and deal with the rest later. It was ultimately better to keep as many people as possible from seeing the evidence of my promiscuous behavior last night, even if there was a somewhat reasonable explanation for how things snowballed.

I was tempted to take some time to pull some old photos and make notes of things I’d have to rejoin later, but every minute counted. It was already almost 9:30 AM and I was worried about all the people that might just be waking up after a late night. Deciding to just rip off the bandaid, I clicked over to the appropriate page and reluctantly confirmed that I wanted to delete everything.

Wincing as the site reverted to its neutral state, I tried to convince myself that I made the right call. One problem solved, kind of. Now I just had to find a way to Autumn’s house, as I was in a similar predicament as last night–no phone and no car. No, this would be easier. My note already informed my parents I had been given a ride, and it wouldn’t take much to convince one of them to drive me.

Before I could fully formulate that plan, and whether or not I wanted one of my parents to take me to the house where I did so many indecent acts, my mother was calling me from downstairs.

“Bella? Hey, Bella!” she said, “Someone’s here to see you.”

Part 24

“Happy New Year, Bella!”

It was Heather. Of course it was Heather. She had a friendly smile on her face as I met eyes with her on my way down the stairs. Putting on a show for my mother, who was also right there. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to happen until it was just the two of us. But also, I recognized the threat without Heather having to give me a look; she could very easily pull out her phone and show my parents pictures or videos from last night if she felt so inclined.

So, playing along despite how my heartrate had definitely increased, I forced a smile and said, “Hey, Heather. Happy New Year.”

What had they talked about in the minute or two it took me to come downstairs? All I had told my mother about the previous evening was that I was going to be celebrating with a few of my friends from high school. In my defense, I hadn’t known it was going to be that much of a party. In retrospect, I should have thought about how Autumn was the type to go big. And also, I should have fucking stayed home.

“Can we talk in your room, Bella?” she asked. Turning to address my mother, she added, “Thanks again for the tip, Mrs. Ryan. I’ll tell my mom how it works out, and tell her to tell you!”

Charming as ever. My parents knew most of the girls on my former dance team, as well as the parents of those girls. They just were oblivious to most of the drama that went on, and certainly wouldn’t expect Heather to be here for any malicious reason. Even if showing up mid-morning on New Year’s Day was a bit out of character for a girl who I really wasn’t that close with.

After another minute or two of pleasantries, as I hadn’t yet greeted my mother or wished her the same sentiment I had begrudgingly expressed to Heather, I was finally able to politely turn down the parting offer for coffee and head back up to the second floor with Heather in tow.

I stepped aside upon entering my room so she could walk past me, and was quick to close the door behind me. “What do you want?” I flatly asked. My bedroom was a little cluttered, as I hadn’t been expecting company, though Heather wasn’t exactly someone I needed to impress. I knew being cold to her wouldn’t actually achieve much, as I was aware just how many cards she held, but I couldn’t help myself. At this point, I would cling to whatever pride and dignity I could muster, even if I was pretty much stripped of both last night.

“Rude.” Heather rolled her eyes and slid the drawstring bag off her shoulder. “For starters, I thought you might want everything you left at Autumn’s place.” She handed me the bag with a rather neutral expression.

I briefly considered the idea that opening it would give her some degree of satisfaction. However, I did want my stuff back. My phone in particular, plus my wallet had so many cards that would be a chore to replace. Heather wasn’t lying, either. The cheap bag had my possessions and only my possessions inside; phone, wallet, and keys. Right, my car keys. Those were important, too. I could feel a sigh of relief forming, and did my best to turn it into just a normal breath.

Heather went on, “Your car is down two blocks, by the way. You’re welcome.”

Wait, what? Why? “You drove my car?” I ask. It wasn’t that big of a deal. I occasionally lent out the sedan to friends at college. The difference was, Heather hadn’t been given permission.

“Like I said, you’re welcome. I didn’t know what your parents did or didn’t know, so I didn’t want to risk pulling into the driveway.”

“Yeah, but-” But she was right. That would have sparked any number of questions if they happened to see my car arriving in front of the house when I was up in my bedroom. Questions I wasn’t ready to answer, as I was determined to keep the details of last night as vague as possible while praying that the deletion of my social media accounts would keep my parents from seeing any of the damning posts that were out there.

“I also came to pay you for your services last night,” she continued. Reaching into her purse and pulling out a handful of bills she must have clipped together ahead of time, she said, “That’s $50 for the stripping job itself, and just under $100 for what you made on stage. Not bad, right?”

Excuse me? Autumn had offered $500, and not even ten times that amount would be worth the experience I had last night, as well as all the potential fallout. This was less than half of the original sum, which was all kinds of insulting. Putting aside my absolute humiliation, I did a good job before things started devolving just before midnight. Moved well to the music, figured out how to strip while dancing despite having never done that before. Though I wasn’t particularly proud of my decision to stay and put on a show, I knew I was worth more than what I could make doing menial work for minimum wage.

Heather easily read the look on my face. Since I hadn’t figured out a dignified way to tell her that I should have made more money for taking my clothes off, she said, “Agents get 90%, remember? That means I take $450 from your flat rate, and you can do the math for the rest. You can thank Zoey for collecting all that cash before stripping you, or it would have been a free-for-all. I tipped her well, don’t worry!”

As in, I made almost a thousand dollars from all those hands that stuffed bills into my bra and thong over the course of the evening. That surprising revelation was undercut by the fact that Heather was reaping all the rewards for my ordeal. It still wouldn’t have been worth it even if I was given every penny, but that didn’t change the fact that the girl before me just got a major payday for doing next to no work. “Thanks.” Taking the money from her, I bit my tongue about pretty much everything. I still didn’t want my professors or administrators to learn about any of this, which meant Heather’s leverage was just as effective as it had been before. Getting on her bad side didn’t feel like a good idea, regardless of whether she deserved to be yelled at. Also, my bedroom door wasn’t particularly soundproof.

“Oh, and one more thing,” she smiled, “I lined up another job for you.”

Epilogue

A month and a half should have been more than enough time to figure out how to get out from under Heather’s thumb.

And yet, it wasn’t. Not when she and I went to colleges in different states. Even if I took a trip to her school and found a way into her dorm room when she wasn’t around, what then? Her laptop would be locked, she would have taken her phone with her, and there was a good chance she backed up her important stuff online and/or on an external hard drive. Heather wouldn’t share that info with a BFF, and it’s unlikely I could convince whoever her best friend was to give me access.

There was the nuclear option, of course. Over the weeks, I considered just telling Heather I didn’t care, and to do whatever she wanted. The problem was, I had come out miraculously unscathed from everything. My family hadn’t found out, or hadn’t said anything about it if they had. My college friends were in an earlier time zone, so the deletion of my social media accounts was more effective on them than anyone in my home town that hadn’t been present at Autumn’s party.

A few friends had seen a video or two, but I had managed to spin some bullshit story about how I was drunk and didn’t even remember doing that. All in all, I got pretty lucky. Apparently not all girls are bitches like Autumn and Summer; my classmates who had seen me dancing topless were mature enough about the whole thing, though I did suffer some jabs and teasing about it moving forward since it was so out of character for me.

The problem was, Heather’s original threat was still my biggest concern. It wasn’t just that I was relying on my professors for recommendations. Adults weren’t above gossip, and I was worried that any number of important people in my field would get the wrong idea about me before we even met. Whether it was a ‘drunken night’ or something I did partly of my own volition, I really didn’t want anyone who had the power to affect my future seeing those videos. I also didn’t love my family perceiving me like that. Honestly, that was a secondary concern, yet still a valid one when weighing the pros and cons of whether or not it was worth telling Heather to shove it.

I even tried some internet sleuthing to see if I can find anything that would work as mutually assured destruction in terms of leverage over Heather. No dice. She was just too shameless. Countless bra and bikini pics on her social media accounts, a few videos of her making out with guys, and so on. The only thing she was careful about was drinking even though she was too young to do so legally. None of her partying pics had her holding a bottle or can that was blatantly alcohol, so she had some deniability there if I threatened something extreme like . . . I didn’t even know. Telling the cops? College girls drank underage all the time. If anything, she’d probably get a slap on the wrist.

All in all, my best potential threat was, ‘I’ll tell your mother.’ It was so fucking lame, as well as immature. Also, Heather’s accounts were public, as I was easily able to check her out with a throwaway profile I made. I doubted her parents were oblivious to what a hot, popular girl got up to at college.

Obviously, I never reactivated my own accounts, or made the effort to create new ones. I knew privacy settings were a thing, but I was too worried about somehow being tagged regardless of that. Hopefully the worst pictures and videos had been flagged and taken down by the platforms themselves. After catching my breath on the day following my mortifying performance, I made a throwaway and reported all the ones I could find on public pages, but that was really the best I could do. The internet was forever, and there was no telling what might be circulating out there on less appropriate sites.

And, finally, the party Heather had in mind was one where nobody but her knew me. That made it a lot easier to justify when comparing it to what I had done at Autumn’s house.

February 12th.

The Friday before Valentine’s Day.

Per Heather’s instructions, I wore a white skirt and a pink crop top, complete with lingerie that matched the holiday themed party as well. I also ended up spending most of my earnings from the New Year’s Eve party on the flight to her college’s city, as well as all the other travel expenses involved.

There was no way I was going to make money at this thing. As my ‘agent,’ Heather was going to take 90% of whatever I made. And rather than flying me in to strip at her party, which was absurd enough, I had to cover all that myself. Driving that far sounded miserable, so I sucked it up and bought a ticket. Of course, she would be making plenty at my expense.

I showed up well before the start of the party, since the alternative was spending more money to kill time at a coffee shop. Plus Heather had my flight information, and said she wanted me there early so we could go over details. She was intelligent enough to never text anything too specific, or else I would have considered somehow getting her in trouble for all of this.

Heather greeted me with a smirk, giving me a once-over and nodding in approval towards the outfit I would be stripping in. Then, after letting me in and showing me the spacious great room that actually had a small stage set up near the center for me, she said, “Oh, by the way. I need you back here in a month for my St. Patrick’s Day party.”