The Dancer

Stories about girls getting pantsed, stripped and humiliated by anyone or anything.
*Lady Lucia*
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The Dancer, Part Eighteen

Post by *Lady Lucia* »

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.
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The Dancer, Part Nineteen

Post by *Lady Lucia* »

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 being 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.
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Re: The Dancer

Post by Sad Ken »

Your best story imo.
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The Dancer, Part Twenty

Post by *Lady Lucia* »

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?
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The Dancer, Part 21

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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.
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The Dancer, Part 22

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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.
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The Dancer, Part 23

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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.”
*Lady Lucia*
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The Dancer, Part 24

Post by *Lady Lucia* »

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.”
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Re: The Dancer

Post by fenmo »

Part 23 and 24 alone could be the prologue to an amazing story. Looking forward to Bella’s adventures.
holy8675
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Re: The Dancer

Post by holy8675 »

Oh hell yeah!
Please tell me you plan to do more of this, blackmailed,controlled and robbed by Heather :)
I love the touch she is getting close with the family :) Pretending to be an angel and best friend with their daughter...
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