Leila´s Picnic Weekend - Sexgeschichten

Leila´s Picnic Weekend

... The slut is totally aroused!"

"Where? I can't see!"

These and other comments swirled around the room. Leila was glad now that her arms were being held; if they weren't she would surely have fallen to the floor.

"Let's give everyone a proper view," said Mrs. Renwicke, motioning to the two people holding Leila's arms. They marched her over to the table, and the battle-ax ordered, "Get up on the table." Leila was too shocked to obey, so Brad and Phil each grabbed a nipple and twisted it painfully. "Get up on the table, now!" The boys let go of her breasts, and she stepped onto a chair and then onto the table. "Put your hands behind your head. Very good. Now, turn around slowly." Leila obeyed the commands, frightened, humiliated and so horny.

"You like being in strip clubs, so dance like a stripper," commanded Mrs. Renwicke nastily. Leila tried to obey, twisting and bobbing on the table.

"She can't dance properly in that tight skirt," said Brad to the audience. Then, he turned to her. "Kneel down on the table. Keep your body straight, shoulders back. Clasp your hands behind your neck again." Leila did exactly as she was told, realizing how this emphasised her breasts. She felt something cold against the side of her left thigh, and heard a "snick, snick" sound. Brad was cutting her tight fawn dress from the hem, which had just covered the welt on her white holdup stockings, right up to the waist-band. She half expected him to cut it right off her, but instead, he ...

... made a second cut about half an inch from the first. Once that cut had reached the waist-band, he started a third, half an inch further over. "A good stripper often wears a fringe," Brad whispered to her. She blushed as he called her a stripper, but made no other move. She could feel her self starting to drip, no, to positively flow, as she saw all her office buddies staring at her.

Finally Brad had cut the entire skirt into narrow strips. "Now, dance." She stood up, and as someone turned on a radio, she started to move her body to the music. The strips of cloth spun out from her body as she gyrated, totally exposing the white cotton panties she was wearing underneath, as well as the tops of the white stockings. Except for her shoes, watch, and a thin gold necklace, she was otherwise naked.

"Christ, she's pissed her pants."

A couple of loud sniffs. "I don't think so. Smells more like cunt juice. I think the slut is really turned on." Leila knew she could not blush any redder, but she felt her body trying to express the unbelievable humiliation.

Suddenly Phil's voice rang out. "That costume is not quite right. Stop dancing." Leila stood still, her breasts heaving with each deep gasping breath.

"Kneel." She knelt back down on the table.

"Hands!" She clasped her hands behind her head. The crowd gasped as they realized that it needed only that one word to make her, pose like a hussy, breasts jutting out, nipples carborundum.

"Knees apart. Wider! Wider! Good." ...