Maid for a Night (COMPLETE)

Stories about girls getting pantsed, stripped and humiliated by anyone or anything.
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jastes22
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Part 20: The Moaning Game

Post by jastes22 »

I held my breath. It was a twisted game. Technically, I could go the entire five minutes and not get anything revealed about me if I were strong enough, but I doubted it. I was already on the brink. I thought cumming in front of the boys would be the climax of the night and I would come down, but it was only getting stronger.

Why was Lindsay doing this, teasing my identity over me and my visitor? I racked my brain. Did I do something to upset her? Earlier she said she was enforcing the terms of the bet because I had been the one to make the bet, not her, but I suspected that wasn’t entirely true.

It was me. At every point in our night, I hadn’t resisted or suggested I wasn’t enjoying this—quiet the opposite, really. Lindsay wasn’t punishing me or trying to get revenge on me—she was giving me exactly what I wanted.

Even if what I wanted terrified me. I didn’t want to be exposed, but it was that threat of being revealed to my visitor that made every inch of my skin crackle and become even more excited than anything else had made me feel. I felt like I was looking at myself from an outsider’s point of view. Just standing there, hands behind my back, naked, and willingly—almost eagerly—submitting to whatever torment Lindsay could come up with. I was a true slut.

And to make matters worse, Lindsay had put the matter in my hands. If I truly wasn’t enjoying this, then nothing would be revealed. But any further exposure just proved that I was really was enjoying it.

Which…I had to admit…I was. All of this was so not me. Lindsay had unlocked something I had been too shy to admit to myself. I might’ve been able to rationalize it away earlier. I was with friends, I felt safer around them. But with this visitor…the only explanation was that I actually enjoyed this.

I could have ended this when I took off my shirt only an hour ago, but instead I let it go on and on, spiraling into something completely different than our original bet.

I had no one to blame for my predicament but myself.

“Okay, first, a few ground rules,” Lindsay said. “You will have five minutes. That time starts when you first make contact with her. Whenever our slut here moans, you have to move onto a different body part or different method. At the end of those five minutes, we’ll count them up and that’s how many clues you get. Does that sound acceptable?”

“Sounds perfect,” the visitor said. Where did I know that voice from?

“Slut?”

I swallowed, and coughed, my throat suddenly very dry. What was I doing? If I kept going, it was only a matter of time before my visitor figured out who I was!

But I couldn’t stop it. “Y-yes.”

There was a long pause as my visitor planned her course of attack. I squirmed, so jittery I shifted my feet around.

The visitor started with my tits, swirling them in her hands and tweaking my nipples. She had already touched my tits, but that was more of an exploration, while this was more intense, more focused on eliciting a reaction.

I bit my lips, desperately keeping any noise from escaping my mouth. The visitor intensified her efforts, and I felt the pressure in my crotch grow as my tits were manipulated. I realized that, technically, I had the power to stop whatever the visitor was doing, it would just cost me a clue.

The visitor stepped behind me and lifted up my tits, pinching my nipples. A soft moan escaped my mouth, and I blushed.

“That’s one,” Lindsay said.

These five minutes were going to drag on.

The visitor wasted no time moving to my pussy. There was a terrible squelching sound as the visitor manipulated my very wet pussy lips with her fingers. I clenched my legs, but the visitor simply pulled them apart and continued to explore.

I didn’t last long, and a pleasurable moan erupted through my mouth.

“That’s two.”

I gritted my teeth. My plan to be resolute and give nothing away was not working. Two clues was already bad enough, but I needed—

Suddenly, something was touching my lips. She was kissing me! I pulled back, only to be yanked forward as the visitor grabbed the leather of the collar and pulled me forward.

I wasn’t bisexual in the least, but I felt myself falling into the kiss, feeling at least somewhat comforted for the first time this night.

She shoved her tongue down my throat. I realized that she had the same thought as I, that she didn’t necessarily need to pleasure me into moaning, just make me uncomfortable enough that I wanted it to stop.

I tried to maintain the kiss, even make the visitor think I was enjoying it, but I couldn’t. A soft, desperate moan came from my lips. My visitor pulled away, leaving me gasping. Her skin had been warm, and I found myself oddly missing it. My lips buzzed, still moist from the visitor’s saliva.

“That’s three. Keep it up, slut.”




Fingers poked at my pussy. I opened my mouth to remind the visitor that she couldn’t do the same thing twice, but I didn’t get far before I felt something slide into my pussy lips.

The visitor thrust her tongue into me, swirling it inside. There was no chance of using willpower to prolong my torment. A huge, pleasurable moa erupted from my mouth.

“That’s four.”

Hands crashed down on my thighs. I moaned, the pain oddly pleasurable as I fell to my knees.

“That’s five.”

This was quickly getting out of hand. How much time was left?

The visitor grabbed my chin, pulling my head up so I would have been looking up at her without my task. I suddenly felt like my mask wasn’t enough, and I shut my eyes, as if that would do anything.

She grabbed my leash and pulled me up to my feet. I squealed, still not used to being forced to move by such a humiliating mechanism.

Her mouth wrapped around my tit. She bit down on my nipple. I wasn’t much into pain when pleasuring myself, but the way she was manipulating my tit was making the pressure in my crotch expand. By some miracle, I held in a moan. She rolled my nipple for a little bit before recognizing that she wasn’t going to get anything from me, and she pulled away.

I reveled slightly in my victory, though it was a very insignificant one at that, considering I had given away five clues already.

There was a pause as the visitor considered her next course of action. I used it to suck in as much air as I could before being fondled again.

I was going to be so sore after this.

Fingers poked at my pussy. I opened my mouth to remind the visitor that she couldn’t do the same thing twice, but I didn’t get far before I felt something wet and long slide into my pussy lips.

The visitor thrust her tongue into me, swirling it inside. There was no chance of using willpower to prolong my torment. A huge, pleasurable moan erupted from my mouth.

The visitor left her tongue in for a moment longer, tasting my insides before pulling out. I gasped, my legs very, very weak.

“That’s six, and time is up.”

My heart fell. Six clues? That was more than enough to determine my identity, depending on how good they were.

“Alright,” Lindsay said. “That’s pretty good. For your first clue, our slut here has big, blue eyes.”

I shut my eyes, as if that would do anything. My bright eyes were one of my best features, and often helped me wrap boys around my finger. Plenty of girls had blue eyes, right?

“For your second clue, I’ll let you know that Miss Slut here loves the color pink.”

My love for the color was well known, and I would often show up to school wearing all pink. It was a distinctive feature of mine, but lots of girls liked pink, right? It wasn’t too bad of a clue. I made a mental note to get rid of every pink thing in my wardrobe.

Lindsay kept going. “Your third clue is that she is left-handed.”

I squeezed my left hand, and suddenly I was more self-conscious about the way my hand looked than the fact that I was completely naked. Again, it wasn’t a terrible clue. People didn’t look or cared much about people’s dominant hand, though it did narrow down the list quite a bit, considering I was one of the only southpaws I knew.

she paused, and I imagined her turning to the visitor. “I’ll give you your final two clues together. I’ll let you know that our slut here is very athletic, and she loves to swim.”

I barely stopped another groan. That was too much! I was planning on trying out for the swim team in only a few weeks. I was good, too. My swimming trainer had aspirations to get me into county and state competitions. Would my stranger think to check the names of the sign-ups for the tryouts?

With that thought, I realized that every clue Lindsay was giving would be useless without constant interaction with me in some way.

The visitor knew me, I was sure of it now.

But it got worse.

The visitor went to school with me.
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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 20 posted 11/20)

Post by imanewb »

Hot, but the sudden 'mental breakdown'/change of character/self delusion was a bit jarring.
Why was Lindsay doing this, teasing my identity over me and my visitor? I racked my brain. Did I do something to upset her? Earlier she said she was enforcing the terms of the bet because I had been the one to make the bet, not her, but I suspected that wasn’t entirely true.

It was me. At every point in our night, I hadn’t resisted or suggested I wasn’t enjoying this—quiet the opposite, really. Lindsay wasn’t punishing me or trying to get revenge on me—she was giving me exactly what I wanted.
Right from the first chapter (and repeated at multiple stages)...
I whimpered. What was happening to me? I couldn't say it. I couldn't say it!
Whimper: to make a series of small, weak sounds expressing pain or unhappiness...

And through subsequent chapters... there are visible/audible signs of reluctance, non-enjoyment, etc (some of which, I'll grant, could be misconstrued)... e.g.
“OW!” I protested. That hurt!
Jackson’s eyes that scared me the most... <snip> ...I shuddered to think what that was.
My-my handcuffs. I would like them off,” I said. “Please, Miss Lindsay.” The handcuffs were killing me from all the wringing and pulling against them.
and so on, and so on...
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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 20 posted 11/20)

Post by Hooked6 »

Loved the game and the clues. Most interested to see whether the mystery guest can guess who it is or is our "maid" going to be left torturing herself trying to figure out who her classmate is.

Well written. Try not to let all the nit-picking commentary distract you from your writing. You have a great plot developing here. Write what your muse inspires you to do. I am enjoying this so far.

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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 20 posted 11/20)

Post by imanewb »

Hooked6 wrote: Mon Nov 20, 2023 5:52 pm Loved the game and the clues. Most interested to see whether the mystery guest can guess who it is or is our "maid" going to be left torturing herself trying to figure out who her classmate is.
As did I, 'twas as I said above, 'Hot'.
Try not to let all the nit-picking commentary distract you...
I'm going to 'agree to disagree' on whether 'tis 'nit-picking' - I've said before, if constructive criticism isn't wanted, all an author has to do is say so - I felt it a better option than a simple downvote (as the only alternative for expressing an opinion) but will probably end up doing that instead - that way, if they're interested in why, they can approach me instead. Better?
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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 20 posted 11/20)

Post by Girlspns »

imanewb wrote: Mon Nov 20, 2023 6:35 pm
I'm going to 'agree to disagree' on whether 'tis 'nit-picking' - I've said before, if constructive criticism isn't wanted, all an author has to do is say so - I felt it a better option than a simple downvote (as the only alternative for expressing an opinion) but will probably end up doing that instead - that way, if they're interested in why, they can approach me instead. Better?
I think you're misunderstanding what constructive criticism is, simply telling an author that what they've written/created is not to your liking without insulting them is not actual criticism, constructive or otherwise, it's simply stating your preference, nothing wrong with that, of course, but likewise, they're not obliged to listen to you as you're not actually providing anything constructive about it.

If an author writes a story with non-con or coercion elements in it, telling them that you dislike that doesn't actually help them write a better story, what they WILL (and should) do is listen to the people who DO like those elements and listen to them about how to bring out the best in it.

in short, I think you may be missing this in all of this:

A lot of us enjoy the very elements you are proclaiming are faults.

That isn't to say you aren't allowed to dislike them, just that, to put it bluntly, any author would find your style of criticism unhelpful, regardless of subject matter.
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Part 21: A Storm Brewing

Post by jastes22 »

The next few weeks were excruciating. I jumped at everything. I held my breath whenever my phone went off. I checked social media and text messages constantly.

I got my hair cut to a much shorter length. Not quite a pixie cut, but shorter so my hair didn’t touch my shoulders anymore. I couldn’t quite bear the thought of throwing out my entire wardrobe of pink clothes, but I definitely stopped wearing them as much. I wore as many layers as possible, as if that would make up for the short amount of time I was completely exposed. Thankfully, there was a sudden cold spell, so no one questioned it.

Still, despite my attempts to not be recognized, I had to wonder: had the visitor figured out who I was? Maybe I hadn’t heard anything because she really didn’t know who I was, and just had nudes of a random girl she knew nothing about? Or did she know, and was just waiting to post them? But that didn’t make any sense. What could the visitor be waiting for? Why not post them, or tell me that she had them? Or maybe Lindsay had invited the visitor over because she knew our visitor wasn’t someone who was interested in discovering my identity and sharing it with the world? I didn’t know, and I was too scared to ask.

It was around this time a little rumbling started in my crotch, like a brewing thunderstorm. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it wasn’t comfortable, either. It sat with me in classes, at the cafeteria table, even when I was home, but it was especially worse when I was naked and showering. My fingers started to explore my pussy, sending wonderful pangs of pleasure through my body as thoughts of being naked ran through my mind.

“Good job, Taylor,” Sarah said, breaking me out of my spell. She patted me on the back.

I jumped, and Sarah laughed. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”

I blushed and shook my head at the blonde. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

I couldn’t help but think that she looked good in a swimsuit. She would look good without a swimsuit, I thought. I did that more now, checking out the girls around me, imagining them without anything on. “You’re fine. I’ve just been jumpy recently.”

“Nervous about the tryouts for the team?” she asked.

“What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I guess so.”

“You’ll do fine. You’re one of the better swimmers here, I bet.”

I blushed. “Thanks. You’ll do great, too, I bet.”

“—then I said, ‘I can’t believe she would do that!”

I jumped. The voice! That was the voice! The voice of my visitor was etched into my brain. I looked over to see who was talking.Voices echoed and carried far in the big open area of the indoor pool. I don’t think the speaker realized I could hear her.

Teresa was talking to Caroline. Both of them were currently on the swim team, but you had to try out each year to stay on it, keeping competition tight. Teresa and I never got along well, though it wasn’t like she was openly hostile, either. She was my visitor? Did she see me as some kind of rival? Was she telling Caroline all about me? Did she figure out who I was? My mind was racing at a thousand miles a minute.

My stomach started to twist into knots. I hurried to the bathroom to change and head over to Lindsay’s. I needed to get away from Teresa. As I peeled off my swimsuit, I felt something churning in my stomach begin to grow. Not bigger, necessarily, but deeper. I needed release

Trying to keep my mind off of Teresa, I hurried to Lindsay’s.

I still went to our little parties, just the boys, Lindsay, and I. Instead of confronting them about it, I acted like nothing had happened.

And, thankfully, so did they. In fact, they were more respectful and considerate than before, keeping their hands to themselves and giving me space. Instead of treating me like less after seeing me naked, they almost seemed in awe of what I had gone through. I had worried so much about what they would think of me after seeing me naked, that I hadn’t considered that they would wonder what I would think of them knowing that they had seen me naked.

As the weeks passed with nothing happening, I let myself relax a little, but I waited for them to come up with a reason to humiliate me again. When nothing happened, and there wasn’t even a hint that they might be interested, I started to worry. I started to get concerned that I would never experience something as exciting as that one night.

Getting to Lindsay’s was a blur, and suddenly I was in her bathroom. I was changing into my bikini at Lindsay’s home when the storm that had been brewing for weeks roared. The terror, the humiliation of being naked and completely exposed in front of others all came to me at once.

And suddenly, the storm calmed.

I blinked, not sure whether to be surprised, excited, or ashamed by this sudden realization.

I glanced at the glass shower where I had been cleaned, and suddenly, I wanted the boys to burst into the bathroom, rip off my clothing, and tie me down while they toyed with me.

I held my breath, waiting for it to happen. When nothing did, I let it go, trying to decide if I was relieved or disappointed.

Oh, crap, had I actually enjoyed it?

I shook my head. What was I doing? I couldn’t believe I was actually fantasizing about being humiliated all over again. What kind of person did that make me?

I stepped outside onto Lindsay’s porch wearing a skimpy blue string bikini. Jackson was sprawled out on a beach chair by the pool and saw me first. His eyes looked me up and down. Not so slow that he was ogling me, but slow enough that I knew he was recollecting what I looked like under there.

“Looking good, Tay! You’re rocking that bikini!” Lindsay said.

I blushed and wrapped my hands around my stomach teasingly while jutting out my chest. Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I still wasn’t sure if Teresa knew who I was, but Lindsay could easily connect the dots for her.

“Thanks, Lin, but I don’t need clothes to look good.”

As expected, Lindsay’s jaw dropped, and Thomas and Kyle, who were fooling around at the other end of the pool, stopped and looked at me. Four bodies watched Lindsay, holding their breath to see what happened next.

“Alright, then. A little bet, huh?” Lindsay asked. “You and I race to the end of the pool and back. The winner gets to take the loser’s swimsuit for an hour.”

It was a terrible bet, and we all knew it. I would absolutely wipe the floor in a swimming contest. It wasn’t like she was a bad swimmer—I was just really good.

She was giving me a choice, I realized. I could either finally take some revenge, get back to her for what she did to me all those weeks ago while all under the guise of friendly competition.

Or I could let her strip me naked. Again. No fuss, no fanfare. Just me, naked and embarrassed, for an hour.

Either way, it was my choice.

We lined up on one side of the pool. I looked at my blonde friend, imagining her naked and compliant. It felt strange. Who would let someone do that to them?

I did.

Jackson called us off, and suddenly we were in the water.

My arms felt sluggish, though I didn’t know if that was from the water or my own hesitation. I kicked furiously, but it felt like the more I thrashed, the further away the edge of the pool was. I made it to the end of the pool and kicked back. I had no idea where Lindsay was, but I couldn’t stop. I started my way back, just hoping that Lindsay was—

Was what? Behind me? In front of me?

My mind was not catching up to my body. It couldn’t decide what it wanted. Confused and starting to feel the heat of shame rising up to my cheeks, I kicked my way to the other side. Was I going slower than normal? Faster?

My hand touched the side, and I pulled up to see Lindsay standing above me with a huge grin on her face. “Looks like you lost, waterbug. You know what that means.”

And, just like that, the storm was gone.
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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 21 posted 11/24)

Post by Hooked6 »

What a great chapter! I loved the internal dialog Taylor had with herself when she heard "the voice" of Teresa and wondered if she was the one who had been the mysterious visitor. I also thought it was clever that you placed Teresa on the swim team and seems to be a rival of sorts.

I also enjoyed how you set up the little bet at the end and how you wrote the action of Taylor in the pool as she tried to swim. Brilliant. But I am especially glad, for whatever reason, that Taylor lost!

I can't wait to see what happens next!

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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 21 posted 11/24)

Post by Blondie2718 »

Bump. Looking forward to the next part.
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Re: Maid for a Night: Part 22 - Escalation

Post by jastes22 »

We all stood there, the boys on the other side of the pool, me floating on the other side, and Lindsay standing over me like a judge about to deliver a verdict. I tried to remain as still as possible, as if every movement was an opportunity for Lindsay to pounce.

“Okay, Taylor,” she said. “Time to lose the suit.” She stood over me, arms folded over her chest. I held in a whimper. There would be no mercy, no holding back.

And I couldn’t stop her. It was my fault. Whether or not I intended to lose the challenge—I still wasn’t sure if I had meant to or not—I had lost the bet, and that meant I had to obey.

I could feel eyes scouring over every inch of my exposed skin with only some fabric to protect my most private areas. The thought that I hadn’t had this much skin exposed in weeks crossed my mind. Now that I was about to

“Actually, pet,” Lindsay said as I started to wade over, “why don't you stay in the pool to take that cute bikini off? Since you lost a pool challenge, it only seems appropriate for your clothes to stay there.” I stopped, only a few inches from the side of the pool. My wet hair draped across my bare shoulders and bikini top straps as it settled on my skin.

“Go on,” Lindsay said. “Start with your top.” I blushed at the feeling of complete submissiveness coming over me. No hope for mercy, or for Lindsay to take it slow or give me any semblance of control. She had slipped into her commanding position over me as easily as slipping on a glove.

Still treading water with my legs and one arm, I reached over with my left hand to the right shoulder strap and tugged it down. The cup of my right tit opened slightly, not enough for anything to become visible, but enough that I could feel cold water seep onto my chest. I shuddered at the sensation.

While no swimsuit was truly water resistant, my tits could feel the change in temperature as the pool water more fully touched them. My nipple hardened in the cold water, stinging slightly. The sensation of one nipple being hard while the other was soft was an odd one, even uncomfortable. I was suddenly eager to get the other strap down.

I reached back to the other side. Despite being on my left, my fingers struggled to get underneath the strap, slipping over it several times. I took a deep breath, steadying my hands and pinching the edge of the strap. The material felt odd, and I realized I had never really explored what my swimsuit felt like beyond putting it on.

“Quickly, pet,” Lindsay said.

“S-sorry,” I muttered, pinching harder on the strap. I tug down slowly, trying to balance having the strap “off” my shoulder while still keeping my top on. No point in flashing anyone yet, at least not until I was ready. Of course, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be ready.

My top barely holding on, it was time to take it off. I realized that I couldn’t pull it over my head with only one hand. I kicked with my legs, attempting to tread enough water to stay afloat while I reached to grab each side. It wasn’t quite enough, and I got a mouthful of water as I pulled my top over my head.

I gasped as I bobbed above water. One hand across my tits and the other holding my top, I looked to Lindsay for more instruction.

“Drop it,” Lindsay said. “Let it float in the water.” She stepped to the side and knelt down, getting a better view of my bare chest. “You won’t need it, anyways.”

I obeyed, letting the top slip through my fingers and float to the top of the pool. I made the mistake of glancing down at my chest, and whimpered. Even though I had already seen my bare tits in an almost identical setting and crowd, the fact that I was in a pool made it feel so much more slutty—I wasn’t a skinny dipper, and yet, here I was.

“Time for your bottoms,” Lindsay said. “I’m sure you’re just dying to get out of your swimsuit and into your birthday suit. And be quick about it.”

I realized that I wouldn’t be able to slip off my bottoms without taking my arm off my tits. I was facing away from the boys, but the thought of baring my tits while trying to wrangle my last piece of clothing off of my body felt too humiliating to bare.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have much choice. If I took too long, Lindsay would jump on my hesitation and make it worse for me, somehow. Best to get it over with.

What if I was too quick about it? There was no denying that I had allowed this to happen. Whether it was because I deliberately lost or that Lindsay had legitimately beat me, this was my punishment. But would the boys think of me differently if I was too eager about it? Once was an event, but twice was the start of a pattern.

I pulled my legs up and grabbed the side of my bottoms, pulling them down to my mid-thighs. I grimaced at the feeling of my bare rear coming into view. The water might obscure it a little, but there was no denying that my mid-section was completely bare.

Rather than stopping, I kept pulling my bottoms reached my knees. I realized I was holding my breath, and gasped for a moment, my bottoms dangling around my legs. The sudden stop made me freeze. What was I doing? How had I gotten here?

“Keep going, pet,” Lindsay said. “All the way.” Her words were oddly comforting, her commanding words making it clear what I had to do. There was no point in resisting.

I ducked underwater, and my fingers grasped the fabric of my bottoms, and I tugged hard. It slipped off one leg, but then pulled against the other, not full off. For a moment, I panicked. What if I couldn't get it off? If I emerged without being completely naked, would Lindsay punish me?

The bottoms slipped further down, and finally came all the way off. I didn’t bother to grab them, instead letting them float to the top of the pool as I pulled myself up.

The boys cheered as I emerged, naked, without bothering to cover up. I blushed, unsure if I should face them, Lindsay, or attempt to cover myself. I certainly didn’t feel victorious, especially since I was once again naked in front of my friends with much less effort and coercion than last time.

“Get up here, pet,” Lindsay said. I pulled myself out of the pool, dripping with water. I tucked my hands underneath my arms, and followed Lindsay to the side of the pool. Now that I was naked, I realized how much one dripped water after getting out of the pool without clothes to absorb the moisture.

“Have a seat,” Lindsay said, pointing to a pool lounge chair. I suppressed yet another whimper. Sitting on the lounge chair would splay me out and give the boys an unfettered view of my pussy. I had been shaving it meticulously ever since my naked display, a choice I was beginning to regret.

I leaned back onto the lounge chair, spreading my legs and resting my arms above my head. My tits sagged freely in the open air and my body continued to drip with water.

“Good girl,” Lindsay said, stroking my chin. “Now, hold still.” I didn’t have a chance to ask what she was doing before felt something cold slithering between my legs.

I moaned as she applied sunscreen in between my legs, slathering my feet, moving up to my sides and shoulders. Holding me down with one hand, she continued to explore in full view of the others, slathering my body with sunscreen. She explored my inner thighs, chest, shoulders, even caressing my tits

It smelled like peaches.

“Are you enjoying this?” Lindsay whispered, her mouth only inches from my ears.

“Y-yes.” I mumbled, hardly having enough breath to say anything else. “P-please.”

“You know, I’m glad you’re enjoying this,” Lindsay said. “I wasn’t sure if we went too far last time. But now that I know…”

My heart dropped, realizing the horrible mistake I had made. Nothing was going to happen. Regardless of the stranger and her pictures she had of me, Lindsay had enough control to stop anything from happening, but my little stunt had completely destroyed any hesitation Lindsay had about further humiliating me.

Lindsay was still talking. “Now that I know…I’ll let our mutual friend know that you’re ready to take this little kinky side of yours to the next level.”
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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 22 posted 2/2)

Post by Girlspns »

So glad this is back.
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