Jessica's Tail

[Editor's note. Chase here - I'm handing this one over to Jessica. She decided to put little comments in the text, so you'll have to bear with her. She's apparently kind of smart, though she has a unique writing style. But, it's in her words; so don't blame me for grammatical errors or odd use of parenthetical expressions. See you at the end of the story!]

Okay. So, Chase asked me to tell you my story, so I will. He said he knows Wally and Wally will remove the stupid commands that Dirk put on me if I tell my story, so here it is. Oh, I'm Jessica and I am not that snotty girl you read about in that other story of Chase's. I'm actually very nice. So there, hah!

Chase wants me to describe myself. I think he said I had short, blond hair, blue eyes, with short shorts and large breasts. Just like a man to quantify a woman by the size of her breasts! As it happens, I have a Masters in Psychology and I'm in a doctorate program for Economics. Sure, I like to unwind and occasionally look like a college student for a change, but I am no mindless bimbo! Not like that Megan. I don't know why I'm jealous of her. I can sense the jealousy in me. I guess it's the psych major talking here. I mean, she's cute, but I think it was the way that while she was submissive, she also had everyone's attention. And, as a good-looking woman, I am used to getting the attention myself. One reason why I keep James around, he knows to pay attention to his woman!

Anyway, I am a little over five feet tall. I know, I'm short, okay? It's not that short for a woman. But I have blue eyes and short blond hair - every bit the Swede, except somehow, I didn't receive my fair share of height. Yes, I have large breasts and I know I get lots of stares, particularly in the college classes I'm taking. They're DD. (There Chase, happy now? Stop looking over my shoulder.)

I have an extremely well pro-portioned body - I should, I work out over an hour a day. I'm twenty-four and have a 143 IQ. My stomach is very toned; my ass is firm, though I think it's a trifle big. It draws nearly as much attention as my breasts. (No, Chase, I will not refer to them as tits, now GO AWAY.) I keep my hair short because long blond hair is the last thing I need. With this body, can you imagine how frustrating it would be if I was also considered a dumb blonde? It's bad enough trying to get men to look me in the eyes as it is. Let me get this out of the way. I'm HOT. I know I'm hot. Okay? Call me a bitch if you want to, but a person should know their assets and I do. I use my looks for personal gain as much as I use my mind. But I don't stoop to degrading myself, no matter how much James asks me. I'm not going to be a stripper!

(Okay, Chase, I'll tell them that too.) Yes, I tan a lot. Yes, I wear a thong in the tanning bed, though I'd never dream of wearing one at a beach or swimming pool. I shave my crotch, down to a very small patch of hair, because that's how James likes it. It's blond anyway, and hardly noticeable. Yes, yes, believe it or not, I actually am not the bitch Chase makes me out to be. I even do things for James because he likes them a certain way, like shaving my pubic hair down there.

No, I do not give head. What is man's fascination with that? I personally think it's for the dominating position they feel they're in. And yes, I've heard of those women who feel they are controlling the man because they give him head...(what? Oh sheesh, Chase. I'm allowed a little exposition here and there. Fine, fine, I'll get to the story.)

Anyway, James and I showed up over at Kelly and Dirk's house. I've known Kelly since high school and though I kept on at college, she left after a few years and married Dirk. We'd kept in touch though, and now while I am a poor college grad, I still like to hang out and do things as inexpensively as possible - a night of getting drunk at a friend's house certainly fits the bill.

I'd dressed like a younger version of myself. James and I had a bet, and I lost. What was the bet? Well, I don't really want to say this, but he ... well, okay fine. He bet me that I couldn't keep from bitching out a waiter at this restaurant we go to. But it wasn't fair! We made the bet like two weeks earlier, but technically, he did win the bet. And it was TOTALLY the waiter's fault too. I was soooo pissed too. I had to dress the way he wanted me to for the night. If had won the bet, he had to dress in a tux and bring me to the opera. But no, his reward was for me to dress like a little hussy with no bra, a spandex shirt, and daisy dukes with no panties. That's it! I ALWAYS wear panties. I mean, c'mon, I wear a thong in a tanning booth where most people don't wear anything at all! I know the latest fashion is a thong all the time, but thanks, kindly, I'll take a bikini bottom. And no bra? With my DD's? Are you kidding me? But at least at age twenty-four, I am quite proud of the way they still defy gravity.

Anyway...when we got there, Dirk greeted us, and Ginger, Rachel and Kelly were already in the basement drinking. I went down stairs and James started chatting with Dirk about something upstairs.

I walked downstairs and they were all chit chatting and Kelly was telling them some story about a comedy club and what they'd done and all that junk. When I came down the stairs, Kelly jumped up and gave me a big hug. Now, in retrospect, having learned Kelly's explored some in the whole "girl on girl" way, I wonder about how she pushed so hard against my breasts when she hugged me... oh well. Anyway, I sat down, and started talking about this and that with Kelly, pretty much ignoring the yokels. I'd heard enough from Ginger and Rachel to realize they were hicks, and I'm not really interested in hicks, ya' know?

Dirk and James came down a few minutes later and James sat next to me and started scratching lightly along the back of my neck, and stroking my arms, making the goose bumps start. He knows how much I like that! It was extremely relaxing. Dirk started talking about hypnosis. I mean, c'mon. Hypnosis. I have a freaking Masters in Psych and this ex-band member is going to talk hypnosis to me?

First off, let me get a few things straight. You can't be forced to do anything. Not possible. However, you CAN be fooled to do things. And you can forget or suppress things. Yeah, yeah, you know part of the story, so obviously, some of the things I KNEW about hypnosis weren't quite described in the way that I found them applied to me.

So, long story short, James worked his tricks to relax me, I'd been given a drink to help knock me out, and Dirk, frankly, bored me to sleep! I woke up sometime later.

Well, you know from reading Chase's piece, "Megan Gets Embarrassed" about what happens next. Megan arrives; she's asked to let me fondle her breasts. I obviously decline, but I was extremely surprised by how much I WANTED to fondle them. I responded with, ""Why didn't you ask me if I WANTED to fondle her breasts, you idiot?"

Chase got it right in his telling. Something inside me just wanted to fondle those breasts of hers! Mine are bigger than hers, I want you all to know that, but .. but. Well, in retrospect, it was obviously the hypnosis that drew that out of me. Remember, the hug from Kelly? No lesbian thoughts. After hypnosis? Wanting to fondle Megan's breasts. Do the math.

I'm not going to re-tell the rest of that bit about Megan. I'm still a bit peeved at myself for actually envying her! What is with that? I'm not a sub at ALL. But she looked great in the middle of the room, spinning around, body all taut and stretched out like that. DAMMIT. There's that lesbian crap that James must have told Dirk to put in my head. He's wanted a threesome for ages and I keep putting him in his rightful place. But now, I'm having these thoughts in spite of myself.

Anyway, I'll pick up the story where it goes into its rightful place - when it's about me!

Chase writes:

"Dirk turned towards Jessica's boyfriend. "Care to sample her?" he asked.

"Damn straight. She's hot." He said.

"Like hell you are!" Jessica said.

"Then it's a good thing I already hypnotized you, huh, Jessica?" Dirk said.

"Bullshit. You may be able to hoodwink some dumb bimbo, but I'm not going to fall for that crap." Jessica crossed her arms and sat back in the couch. She even kicked her boyfriend in the leg for staring at Megan, who was now fully dressed.

Dirk nodded at Rachel who smiled in return and pulled a tiny-bathing suit out of her purse.

Jessica knitted her brows, frowning, not understanding what was happening.
* * *

Okay, let's hold it right there. I don't remember kicking him in the leg, just because he was staring at Megan. I am NOT that jealous! And, yes, I honestly didn't know I'd been hypnotized at the time.

So Rachel pulls out that bathing suit. And an electric jolt of horniness went down my spine, I don't know why.

"T.H.O's, Jessica?" Dirk asked me.

"Huh?" I said intelligently. The horniness at seeing a bathing suit had stunned me.

"Tittie hard ons. You have them right now." Dirk said.

I looked down, realizing I'd crossed my arms without being aware of it. I'd made a shelf out of my breasts and my nipples were indeed hard. I covered them up with my arms, everyone was staring at my nipples! This is not what I had expected when I was invited to this party. Not at all. Sure, I enjoyed what they did to Megan, but I wasn't part of this road-show!

To cover up my embarrassment, I said, "Yeah, so? It's cold in here."

"No it isn't. It's quite warm, isn't it? Bathing suit weather, even." Dirk said.

Another nearly electrical jolt hit me and I knew I just HAD to put on that bathing suit.

"Yes, dammit. Give me that bathing suit." I was quite mad. I knew what I had to do - strip and put that bathing suit on, every part of me knew it was insane! Strip completely naked in a room full of strangers - yokel women, hypnotized woman and leering men??

I grabbed the suit out of Rachel the Hick's hands and threw off my clothes. The suit was a freaking jigsaw puzzle! I couldn't figure it out and I had to cover my nudity while I had all these people staring at me! I'll be honest here - I was the shortest person in the room, easily. I don't weigh more than 105 lbs and I was standing there naked. I felt a little frightened.

"Wow, nice tattoo." Dirk said. "You know, from this angle... by the way, nice ass too."

"Shut up, ass." Was all I could say. I was scared and was putting on a false bravado. And I was pissed! Why was I putting on this stupid stringy thing. I couldn't figure it out! I was frustrated.

And, yes, I have a tattoo on my back - a red rose, with the stem that goes all the way down in to the crack of my rear. The bathing suit doesn't begin to cover the top part of it.

When I was bending over trying to figure out the bottoms, Ginger said, "You know, when you bend over like that, I can see your crotch from the back." I jumped up, not wanting to expose myself any more than I had to. I sent the hick a mental thank-you. Even a yokel has uses now and then, eh?

Finally finishing putting them on, I straitened up and said, "There, now I-"

Dirk interrupted me saying, "Freeze." And I did. My whole entire body tensed. I couldn't move a single muscle.

Let me insert the stupid description of the suit from Chase's story.
* * *

"Dude!" Jessica's boyfriend said. He stood up and looked at the suit, circling around his girlfriend. The back of the bathing suit was hardly more than a thong - just enough to be legal, but far smaller than a brazilian cut. On the hot pink back in black lettering were the letters f-r-e-e-z-e. He circled to the front.

"This is wild dude, does she even see us?"

"Of course. But she can't move. Great, huh?"

"Yeah! What's that say down there? Ahh.. damn, that's small print. This is the tiniest suit I've ever seen." The top was hardly anything at all. A string connected two tiny triangles that barely covered her nipples. Jessica was well tanned and the hot pink contrasted with her skin. On the front of her bottoms, all two inches of it, the words, "Touch here" in black print told the story of how to unfreeze the girl. From the size of the bathing suit, it was apparent that the short girl shaved her pussy. She also wore a thong to the tanning bed.
* * *

I was freaking out on the inside. James was walking around me like I had suddenly ceased to exist and I was some kind of an object. I knew there was NOTHING left to the imagination in this outfit. I mean, I have large nipples and the only reason the areola didn't poke out the top is because my nipples were so hard and they'd shrunk! But why couldn't I move? What was the deal with this bathing suit and why did I have this craving to put it on?

So, naturally, when James touched the front of my suit, the first words out of my mouth were, "What the hell did you do to me? What is with this bathing suit?"

I also wrapped an arm across my chest, and I knew obscene amounts of flesh poked out over the top of my arm. Then I tried to cover my crotch and my rear. I felt ludicrous.

Dirk said, "It seems you can be hypnotized. And you really like your new suit. So much so that when you do your daily tanning salon or pool visit, you're going to wear it. I'd advise sitting on your ass, since anyone can make you stand completely still."

The news quickly sunk into my head. I did mention I have a 143 IQ, right? Of course, James had to chime in.

"Omigod, that's so hot."

Great, James. I'm exposed like Pamela Anderson in front of all these people, and leave it to you to sound like Tommy Lee.

I stared at Dirk. "You are fucking kidding me." And I have a Masters Degree! This can't be happening. But I looked down and saw the skimpiest bikini known to man strapped to my (luscious) body and I was standing in a room full of dressed people.

"Nope. So when they read your suit out loud, you'll freeze. When they touch your crotch, you'll unfreeze." Dirk said.

And Kelly's jerkoff husband had frozen me. Or at least me look like a department store mannequin. Well, not even that. I looked like a catalog model for Frederick's of Hollywood, the Bathing Suit Edition. The only reason I moved again so quickly was because James was still touching that spot on my crotch. This just couldn't be happening!

"Ooops. I guess any variation of the word freeze works." I'd stopped moving again. "Ooops, there I go again. May as well enjoy it."

And Dirk, this.. this.. penis! Walks over to me and moves my hands away from my chest like I'm some five foot, one inch tall Barbie doll. Then he reaches around me and I can feel his breath on my face. Then he yanks the back of the suit up my rear! This ex-band member, probably a high-school dropout gives ME, Jessica Harrington, a wedgie!

"That's for being a bitch to our good friend Megan, even though she couldn't do anything about it." Dirk said.

I was being the bitch? ME? Oh, yeah, I'm the one who whipped her in front of her friends and I'm the one who made her give head. Yeah, right. Then the ass has the nerve, not to ask ME for permission, but my dumbass boyfriend who set me up for all this.

"Ya mind?" Dirk asked James.

"Not at all." Dumbass boyfriend replied.

That's when Dirk reached out and grabbed my breasts. The asshole. I'm still pissed about that! He lifted them up, and his thumbs pressed right against my rock-hard nipples. Yeah, typical guy expression, but for some reason, they really were extremely hard. Embarrassment? Mortification? Hypnotism? Who knows.

Then Dirk gets this really condescending tone in his voice. "Now Jessica, I'm going to keep holding your breasts. I'm going to un...immobilize you in a moment. If you don't want to be frozen again, you'd best not move until I tell you you can. And you're going to tell your boyfriend that you want to work as our topless waitress tonight. And if he wants you to work longer, you will. That, and you'll obey everyone's commands. If you disagree, you're going to find that you want to spend the next week at your pool and see how that turns out, and we'll think of something else when that week's up, okay?"

He spoke long enough that I'd had time to really think about what he said. I kept my mouth shut for the moment. Dirk took his right hand off my left breast, stared me straight in the eye, and rubbed that blasted spot on the bikini-bottom that made me un-freeze. I could feel the control come back to my body, but I didn't move, not at first. I realized how much power he had over me and I stood as still as a statue as this high school drop-out frigged my freaking clit.

Then I remembered what he had told me to say. "I want to work as a topless waitress tonight." I could feel the catch in my voice and I waited for Dirk to stop before I made a complete fool of myself. Yes, I started getting wet. He was rubbing my clit for chrissakes. Sue me.

I swallowed my pride. Yes, I can do that too, ya know. I asked everyone what they wanted for drinks. If I was going to have be a waitress here, so be it.

"Oh no, honey, it's not here. You're wearing that outfit to a bar." Dirk said quietly. I could hear my boyfriend breathing heavily behind me. Doubtless he was staring at my rear.

My stomach hit the floor. "But, but.. I thought... "

"Yes, you have a nice butt, and it's going to be shown off nicely, I might add. Have fun!" Dirk had way too much glee in my voice for me to appreciate it. In fact, my hesitation was instantly transformed to anger again. I whirled on my boyfriend, who had been indeed starting at my rear. I wanted to say, 'Up here, big boy, look at my face, not my crotch.' But other words flew out of my mouth.

"James, you sonofabitch. You've been wanting me to make that 'easy' money for you at that bar for months, and this is how you go about it?"

James and I had had this discussion many times. I was still in school. He supported me. That's how it worked. Yeah, well, I am the brains of the relationship. I know, it sounds bitchy, but I ALREADY SAID, you have to know your assets. If he had the 143 IQ, he'd be the one being supported by me. If I were the typical dumb-blond, then fine, maybe I would use my body to have gullible men tip me ridiculous amounts of money to flash a tit here and there, but that is not me. I don't care if waiting tables there at 'Cooters', the Hooters knock-off where the women actually waited tables topless, would yield me 100 bucks an hour.

It's beneath my dignity and he makes decent enough money working construction to support us and my desire to shop at Macy's now and then. (Fine, Chase! Leave me alone!) Yes, James works about sixty-hours a week. Sue me! When I'm done with college, I'll be the one bringing in the money and no, I do not plan on dropping him then. James is a good man and he's lucky to have me. Okay! I'm kidding! Yes, I love him, but I hated him at that moment.

"Freeze." James said. And I did. He continued speaking.

"Just think of all the people who'll be saying that word, over and over again, while you wear that outfit. You may want to keep the backside of it in the crack of your ass like that, so you might be able to avoid at least some of the attention. Ironic, huh? How much you hate thongs, but you have to turn your suit into one, so you don't get molested?" He chuckled.

I couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth! How could he treat me like this? 'Crack of my ass?' And he KNOWS I hate thongs. Knows this. But, the sad part is he was right. That whole word on my bikini bottom was total control over me. As James soon demonstrated.

He pulled my hands up over my head, and I stood on my tiptoes, but barely. He continued to hold me up, else I would have toppled over, since he hadn't tried to balance my immobile frame. I'd never seen that look on his face. It wasn't a total power freak look, but rather a contented peace. I found it alarming. And surprisingly comforting.

"Your tits never looked so good, hun." Then he put my hands together and picked me up with one arm, right up to where my face met his and he kissed me.

And just like a man, he said the very words that would make me so mad! As he reached down to un-freeze me, he said, "Sometimes, I like you better when you shut up. Lets get going, Jess."

That sonofabitch! I could hardly move being suspended a good foot off the ground, but I did reach back with one hand punch him in the arm. "You asshole, I'm gonna cut off your-"

"Freeze." He said with that same aplomb. And just like that, I was immobilized again, my hand reeled back for a good smack. I'd never hit him before, and it didn't seem like I'd get the chance. I was only going to punch him in the arm and, gentle readers, you have to remember that he DID get me hypnotized and humiliate me in public in front of strangers. Besides, it gets worse.

"Welp, I'm off. See you all next weekend! Thanks Dirk - you rock." James said as he folded me in half, like a cliff-diver readying for a 150 footer. My knees touched my forehead and it hurt like hell! I knew my ass, which gets grabbed at the university bars far too often, despite wearing conservative and expensive clothes, was exposed like it had never been before.

"Good thing your flexible dear." James said. GRRR! The nerve of my boyfriend! I'm shaking with anger as I write this! Then he put my hands flat on my rear, and picked me up, and held me out in front of him. Everyone got a clear shot of exactly what little threads protected my rear and how my breasts were crushed against my legs.

"Nice, eh?" James said as he started up the stairs. Jerk didn't even remember to pick up my clothes.

As he walked out the door he said a trifle loudly, "I told you I can do this to you, nearly any time. So, you're going to have to calm down..."

"Tell us how it works out!" Dirk called up the stairs.

I was beginning to get the nagging suspicion that James liked to expose me to other people. We'd been dating for two years now and he'd asked repeatedly to have sex in elevators, have me wear nearly see-thru clothing and of course, help support the relationship by working at a topless bar. Note, he never asked me to work anywhere else, so it wasn't just about the money! He can support us on his salary, even if he is working while I'm out shopping. So don't blame all this on me, I know how it sounds. It was purely a sexual thing, but I had no idea he'd go to such drastic measures to get me to expose myself in public.

Why the nagging suspicion? Okay, it wasn't a nagging suspicion. It was painfully obvious! He didn't let me move. He left me as a virtual mannequin while he positioned me in the front seat of his truck. The seat was excruciatingly cold on my bare butt and legs, but I didn't even get the pleasure of squealing in shock. My mouth remained mute as he stretched my arms out across the back of the seat, as if wrapping my arms around invisible passengers on either side of me. He spread my legs, apparently for balance since I kept falling over. No blanket. No coat. Nothing.

He jumped in on the other side and he drove slowly, glancing at me occasionally. He must have gotten tired of the look on my face, because he reached over and pushed my lips into a smile. Frowning, he said, "I can't seem to get the look I'm going for. I'm going to unfreeze you, but you have to give me a very sincere smile, got it?'

He gave me a second to think about it. I had absolutely nothing to gain by listening to him, so when he unfroze me, I let him have it.

"You will stop what you're doing and drive me home, right this instant, James Stevens! Right now, you hear me?" I'd yanked my arms down and covered myself. Some teen-aged jackass in a pick-up next to us was staring at me. He'd been going the exact speed as we were for the past three miles or so, and he had two little friends with him.

Then I turned and flipped off the little rodents next to us. And, I stuck out my tongue. I know! I'm an adult. But their leering at me and the whole surreal nature of the evening just made something inside of me snap.

"Freeze." James said. The bastard!! I'd turned to the side, one knee hunched underneath me so I could really flip them off, my tongue stuck out of my mouth, and the bastard made me freeze in that position! I realized then that I not only gave them a wonderful view of my breasts, but now they were laughing hysterically. I felt James' fingers at my neck and for a moment, I thought he was trying to soothe me by stroking my neck again. He knows that always relaxes me and makes me horny at the same time.

But then my top popped downward! The bastard had untied the tiny string that held my top up! And a moment later, he'd untied the bottom string and pulled the thing away! There I was topless 'in all my glory', alright.

"Oh shit." James said.

Without warning, James had to hit the brakes for a stoplight. I didn't quite crash forward, though my head did hit the windshield pretty hard. The momentum of the falling made my hands move forward and my body was in an awkward position. I couldn't move my muscles, but any outside force could. So, now, my head leaned at an odd angle and my hand, finger still extended, was pressed against my face. I felt like a Raggedy Ann Doll.

"Well, now don't you look a site. Guess I'm going to have to pull over and fix you up." As James pulled through the now-green light, he started to pull over. I couldn't tell, but I imagine he looked in his rear-view mirror and something made him change his mind. I think those teen-agers were stopping as well.

"Oh hell." He reached over to me and touched my clit, which caused me to un-freeze again.

"Ow, you bastard." I picked myself off the dashboard and seat and righted myself. I also grabbed my top out of his hands and strapped the bits of string and scandalously small triangular patches to my breasts.

"I didn't mean to. I was caught up in looking at you looking like a dork to a bunch of kids. Now, will you do as I ask or am I going to have to tell Dirk? He can make you do just about anything you know." James still had that calm tone to his voice, even though his threat could easily have come off as being defensive.

"First off, he can't make me do anything. Obviously, some how, in that stupid hypnosis, he made me think that what I was doing was something I wanted. Plain and simple, I'm not going to see him ever again! Easy enough, he can't make me do anything."

I was hoping James didn't make the conclusion that he could bring me right back over to Dirk's house that instant and prove my point wrong. I also hoped this wouldn't go any further. I really loved James, but I'm not some submissive dumb-blonde. No, I am working on a doctorate and James was my stud, quite frankly. He had a nice body, girls wanted him, but I gave him what he wanted. Most of the time. A girl's gotta keep her man on a leash, no? But, I'd leave him in a second if he thought he could control me.

"Well, we'll just see about that. In the meantime, you have a topless bar to go to. Now, smile for me, or I'll go back there and see what those teenagers think of my life-like blow up doll." I looked at him and he looked right back at me. Sweetly.

I glowered and then I gave him a sweet and glowing smile.

"Freeze." He said. "Oh, much better." He stopped the truck again.

Sunofabitch. He got out of the truck, opened the door, and rolled down the window. He then went back around, positioned me so I was holding on to the door with both hands, with my knees on the seat and I was staring off into space out the window. Now I'd be great eye-candy for all the people who happened to be driving next to us.

And I was. It was a fifteen-minute trip through town to get to 'Cooters' and I got more than my share of waves and honks. James got a real kick out of it, though even he got a little nervous when the five guys on Harleys came up next to the truck on the freeway and kept pointing for him to pull over. I prayed that no one I knew would come driving by, and thankfully, no one did.

Finally, we pulled up to 'Cooters.' It was a semi-respectable place, though not as clean as a real Hooters. What do you expect? The girls serve food topless. However, it was situated in a nice part of town, and it did a fine business. I don't have any idea what was expected of me, since I'd never waited tables before and I had no idea they were even open at 1am.

"Okay, honey, we're here." James got out of the truck after pulling into a parking space in the back. He came over to my side of the truck and opened the door, careful not to let me fall out. "I talked to the owners. I know you don't want to show your breasts in public, but it's something you're going to have to adjust to, if you want to stay with me."

He pulled my arms down to my sides and put me back in my seat. It felt oddly comforting having him take care of me so tenderly, though my mouth ached from smiling for fifteen minutes. I couldn't even tell him to let me move. I was actually getting quite scared of going into that building and being at the complete mercy of all those people. Face it, most men are taller than my barely five feet!

James continued. "I worked a deal with owner, like I said. They're gonna allow you to work with your bikini top on, but you don't get to wear a skirt or shorts like the rest of the girls. You gotta wear this thing." He touched my clit again. Finally! I could relax my sore muscles.

My mouth hurt so much I didn't even scream at him, I just started rubbing my cheeks and jaw. However, I did glare. My eyes didn't hurt, though it seemed the water had been dried off of them from blinking only rarely. Somehow, my subconscious mind allowed me to blink once in a while, apparently interpreting things like heart's beating and occasional eye blinking as "non-controlled muscles" - I don't know.

"James, please don't make me do this." I put on my little girl in trouble voice. Works every time!

"Jess, you'll have fun, trust me." He took my hand and started to lead me out of the truck.

"Please, James, please?" I never pleaded with him, ever.

But he was a rock, the bastard. He ignored me. I thought about berating him, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. Besides, I'm not an idiot, he'd just freeze me again and pick me up and bring me in there.

"At least tell me why. Why are you doing this to me?" I asked. I dropped the sorrowful tone and sounded more resigned, I guess.

He stopped and turned around, still holding my hand. "Look, Jess. I love you. I want to marry you." That's the first I'd heard that! My heart started beating faster. Asshole, make me love you at a time like this.

"And you're generally good in bed. You're smart and you're the finest piece of ass a man could have." James never talked like that. He always respected me! I can only think that my standing in a parking lot almost completely naked in the middle of town affected the way he thought about me and certainly the way he spoke to me.

"However." There's always a 'but', isn't there?

"There are some things I like to do, that you do not. I have to see if you can handle them. If not, then I need to find someone else." He took a few moments to stare at my eyes, and he looked down at me, and I up at him. He really meant it. Didn't he realize he was LUCKY to have me? I am smart, gorgeous and good in bed. I think. What is he talking about things I don't like to do?

"But what does that have to do with this place? What, you like me to romp around the room in front of guys nearly naked?" I kept the bitchiness out of my voice, as hard as that was. I talked like I would a professor at school.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I do. I want other people to see how hot you are and what a gorgeous woman I.. ME, James Stevens has got on his arm. Is that so strange?"

"Do I have to be so..... 'scantily clad'?" I asked quietly.

He laughed then. "Actually, yes. I mean, I can't help it. It's a quirk of mine, I get off on it, okay?" He seemed a little bashful. "But I have to know it's something you can live with. It's that important to me. But you just won't TRY it. What's worse, is you don't mind me working my butt off so you can get through school. A few hours a week and you could double our income. So, I worked with Dirk on this little plan, and we'll see how it goes. C'mon."

I was left a little speechless as he grabbed my hand and started dragging me across the dark parking lot. If I'd been alone, I'd have been more than a little nervous, I'd have been completely frightened out of my wits. I wore a few hot pink strings and a patch of cloth that would force me to become completely immobilized and molested at will.

James went in the back door and after several twists and turns, we stopped at an office doorway. He tapped several times and I heard a gruff voice tell him to come in. I followed James into the room, trying to hide myself behind his large frame. The room was dark, musty and filled with an acrid cigar smoke. I scrunched my nose as I heard the man speak.

"Oh, it's you again. Look, buddy, this girl better look fuckable, or you're outta here, and I keep my 100 bucks, got it?"

"I get it. Just look." James said as he stepped out of the way. I could feel the goosebumps rise on my skin as I looked at the disheveled but surprisingly clean-shaven, graying man behind the desk. In the weird light of the room, the bathing suit glowed. The man squinted as I saw him read the fine print on my bathing suit.

"Hungh." He said. "Turn around." I stepped forward, forced myself to look natural and not cover up, and I turned around. He told me to stop when I was facing James. I could practically feel his eyes burning my bum as he stared at it. Have I mentioned that people have told me that I have the nicest ass they've ever seen? I laughed at a guy who wanted to shoot me for Playboy. He told me I was too short anyway. Schmuck.

"Freeze?" the gruff man said. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Um. It's a little bet me and my girl had. She lost, so she has to freeze in place every time someone says that."

"What's that bullshit on the front of the suit? Touch here?"

"Well, when someone touches there, she's allowed to move again." James said. He sounded a tad embarrassed.

"You are some kinky freaks, man. But, it's your money. I hope she works out. We need more good looking wenches to wait on customers." The man stood up from behind the desk, and his chair made an awful sound when he pushed it across the floor.

I could hear him come around the desk, and then he grabbed my butt! He ran his rough hands along my back and then reached around front and grabbed my breasts! James just stood watching, with a stupid small grin on his face. EWWW.

"Well, she's likely to get worse than that, but I wanted to see if she'd squirm at all. Guess not. So you want her to wait tables, eh?" He smacked me on my but lightly, and walked back behind the desk. What did he mean I'd get worse than that?

"Yeah, that's what I had in mind."

"She ever do it before?"

"Not that I know of. You think that will be a problem?" James asked.

"Look buddy, it ain't that tough to train yer freak girlfriend on how to wait tables. Maybe she can start as a door greeter.. run some water to tables. I can't believe this dumb chick can't even wait tables. Typical blond bimbo."

I could hear his chair creek as he sat back down. Blond bimbo?? Who the hell did he think he was talking to? Freak girlfriend? I wasn't the one who wanted me here like this! My stupid boyfriend was!! Or fiancé.. damn him. Damn him!

"Good enough." James said. He completely ignored the stuff the manager said about me. The least he could have done was told him I wasn't a typical blond! Grrr! Men!

"Well, go talk to Layla, brown-haired girl, long legs - out on the floor. She knows what to do with her. I gotta get back to work."

I heard the man start scribbling on some paper and James leaned over and touched my crotch through the bathing suit again. I could move and I quickly scooted behind my boyfriend. I couldn't stand the look of the manager. Eww! Did I mention how totally EWW he is? James turned around and half pushed me out of the door. He led me down the hall to the back of the kitchen.

He called out for Layla several times and finally a decent looking, leggy brunette with thick eyebrows, almost Italian looking, came out of the kitchen. She wore white shorts and you could just see the blue g-string through the shorts. She had no top on at all, completely freaking topless. She had blue high-heels that seemed to match the color of her thong, her eye shadow and her eyes. She had to be at least five foot, seven. And with her heels, she was almost as tall as my James. She towered over me.

"Yeah, watcha need?" She asked, not unkindly. James was staring at her breasts. They weren't even in the same league as mine, but they were definitely shapely, in a teardrop fashion.

"Buzz said my girlfriend here would work the door for you and help with drink refills?"

"Sure. He's the boss. Give Gretta a chance to make some real money at the tables." She looked around James to wear I was hiding. "Come along, you. What, you dress like that and then you're all bashful?" She stopped a second, finally noticing my figure.

"Good god, woman. Look at the size of your boobs on your frame. It's too bad you're not a waitress, cuz you'd make a killing." She paused for several moments. She shook her head and whistled. "You've got the body of a very short hooker, I can tell you that. Cat got your tongue?" She smiled. A hooker? A hooker? I'm not the one working in a god-damned stupid excuse for a strip club, but I'm the hooker.

I cleared my throat. "Um. No." I tried to control my temper. Honestly I did. "I am not a hooker. I am a doctoral student at the university." But then something came over me. "I made a bet with my boyfriend, so I may have to work here a bit, but I am going to be a DOCTOR. Not some waitress-slut. I'm going to have a real job, thank-you."

I could see the change come over here face - from a sort of dull-witted inquisitiveness changed to a righteous anger. As if she had the right! She could obviously hear my patrician accent just as I could hear her dockside cant. "I see. A real job, huh? Well, get your ass up to the front door and get to work."

I felt myself nearly compelled to do as she said. I moved beyond James in the hallway, through the window-ed doors and into the main floor of the restaurant. There were about twenty tables in the restaurant and it looked like a strip club. There was a ramp and a walkway that made a large T with the bar along the back wall and tables scattered randomly around the room. The hostess at the front near the door was fully dressed, though in skimpy fashion. The bartender was also topless (a blond, go figure) as were the other four waitresses. Two more blonds (dyed! Not natural, like mine) who wore mini-skirts and no tops. A black-haired, short-shorted girl flirted shamelessly at a table where five men sat. Finally another topless, rail-thing, though flat-chested brunette wore a nothing but a thong and heels apparently overcompensating for her lack of bustsize. Some women, like me, have all the luck, no?

The restaurant was about half-full, with perhaps twenty-five people scattered around ten tables. The place served buffalo wings, beer, and burgers. May as well have called it the Triple B.

Oh, and I was easily the best-looking thing there, and I could tell all the other girls knew it. I cocked my head and sauntered to the front of the restaurant. Hey, I know, I am shy, but sometimes, the best way to make sure people don't take advantage of you is to put up a strong front! I ignored the catcalls and whistles from the patrons of this 'fine establishment'.

"You must be Gretta, right?" I asked the girl at the front. She looked me up and down like I was crazy. Once again, someone taller than me. By like four inches. Hadn't anyone ever seen a few "hot pink" strings tossed randomly together on a great looking body before? Apparently not.

"Yeah. So? What's with your outfit?" Gretta said. She seemed impatient. I could tell she was jealous of me. Most women are when they see my breasts. They knew I got all the attention. They don't even get the fact that I don't care about my breasts. It is my MIND that matters. Do they listen or even ask? No. They just judge me. In fact, she rather freaked me out the way she kept staring at my boobs.

"I lost a bet with my boyfriend," I started tiredly. But my tone quickly changed to impatience. "So, I have to be a little slut like you all tonight at this hellhole." Her eyes grew round. I know, I'm a psychology major and I should have a little more sense, but I honestly couldn't care at the time. I just wanted her out of the door so I could start my shift.

"Fine. What are you supposed to do?" She asked me tersely.

"I'm a hostess and I'm going to refill drinks. What's with your 'tude?" I asked her. Criminy! I'm the new person, aren't people supposed to be nice to the new person?

"My attitude? What about yours?"

"I'm done with you, you little hussy! Just get out of the doorway so I can-"

While I'd been talking, someone in the bar had apparently been discussing my bathing suit, because I heard some words, "...that thing say? Freeze?" And I froze. I stood there, my lips formed to make the words 'get to work' and my finger pointed nearly at her nose. Gretta stared at my finger. She waited. She looked me up and down. She read the words on my bikini bottom front, look at my chest again, then back at the finger.

Finally, after about fifteen seconds of this dreadful pause, "What the hell is the matter with you?" She asked. She stared at me. Still no answer.

"Whatever. Wierdo. I'm going to change." And she scooted by me and nudged me. I rocked slightly, but settled back into place. After a few more moments, I heard the talk in the room quiet down. I could feel the heat of many eyes on my backside. I started to hear commentary from the peanut gallery.

"What the hell's up with her?"

"She's just standing there like a dumbass."

"Her ass says 'freeze' what's up with that?"

"Got damn, she's fucking hot. What an ass on her."

"How'd such a short bitch get such a huge set of knockers. And her ass is like Jlo's."

"She's the new hostess?"

I wanted to kill James at this point. I'd been standing there like a statue for about a minute and all these people were staring at me like I was crazy. Several people stood up and came near me, right behind me.

"What is up with her?" one guy asked the one next to him. I couldn't see them, but I could sense their closeness. Where the hell was James? I bet the asshole left the building! He's going to let me stand here and get raped.

"I don't know man. I wonder if something made her go catatonic? Ya know, like Cameron in 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off'?"

"Huh. Ya think? I mean, is she a waitress here? I wouldn't want to get thrown out for touching her. Is something wrong with her?"

"Go tap her shoulder, dude. Maybe she'll snap out of it."

Is it legal in this state to kill boyfriends named James Stevens? I hope so, because I totally am going to do it. I could feel my face turning red, heat flashing across it. Yes, okay, I was embarrassed to be stared at like an idiot in front of these two guys. Hell, the whole restaurant. I couldn't MOVE. I couldn't cover up. So much for my bravado.

Finally, one of them came around to my front side. "Dude, she's fucking hot. Look at the size of those..." The guy made motions with his hands like he was holding a pair of cantaloupes, while staring at my boobs. "and her nips are hard as .. damn.. " Then he made pinching motions with his fingers, like my nipples were pencil erasers made for his pleasure. Thank god he knew the rules about waitresses and the bouncer ready to toss him out if he did touch me.

He slowly reached forward his hand, as if to touch my nipple, but he stopped, a scant inch from it. It was chilly in the room, but I could feel a drop of sweat dribble down my back.

"Why'd you stop, dude?" The second one asked.

"What, why don't you touch her then?"

"Okay, I will." Said the second one again. He tapped my shoulder. Naturally, I didn't move. Then he tapped it again. "Hey. Miss? You okay?"

At this point, several more people walked up, including another waitress, one of the blondes.

"What the fuck is up with her?" The waitress asked. I knew the voice belonged to one of them though I couldn't see her at the time, because the only women in the room were waitresses.

"I dunno." Said guy number one. "Look at her ass. It says freeze. Now she's won't move."

"Omigod, that is so fucked up." Another female voice. I could feel a real crowd forming behind me and some people started moving into my field of vision, where they could squeeze between me and the bar. I could feel the goose bumps forming on my skin.

"Well, so much for a door greeter. Anyone have an idea on how to get her to move again?" A female voice asked. I think it was Layla.

"Who cares. She's a bitch anyway. Let's just leave her like that." NOOOOO. You vile hussy! I knew that was Gretta. I could tell. She was jealous of me anyway.

A deep male voice came from the direction of the bar. "We can't leave her there. She's blocking the doorway. A fire marshal could come in and shut our asses down."

Would someone PLEASE touch my crotch? Christ! What does it take for one of these morons to simply read the fine print on my god-dammed bikini-bottoms. Yes, I may be five foot and an inch or so, but my pussy is still several feet off the ground. Okay, fine, the club wasn't that well lit, but jeez.

The second guy, the one who'd tapped my shoulder, had nonchalantly moved right up next to me when the rest of the place was discussing my fate. He had a short sleeve shirt on, had curly brown hair, and a large gap between his front teeth. He also smelled of cheap beer. He started rubbing his arm against my shoulder. It really started creeping me out. Every fiber of my being want to shiver and wrinkle my nose in disgust. Naturally, I didn't move a muscle.

The first guy moved forward, also ignoring the goings-on and moved my pointed finger a little to the right. Then he moved it again. I could hear voices behind me, but my attention was focused on this man who was beginning to play with my arm and hand.

Second Guy surreptitiously swung his hand down, like he was trying to reach in his pocket, but it just happened to bounce on my bum - he squeezed once, and he finished the swing by bringing his hand to his pocket. I could hear his deep inhale of breath, the horny bastard.

First Guy moved my hand all the way down so I wasn't pointing anymore. I would have thanked him if I could, I knew that pose looked obnoxious and imperious, and I'd never intended on standing like that for five minutes.

Before I could fully realize it, I felt hands on my body, picking me up. It was the waitresses, they had all apparently reached a consensus and the first thing they'd done was turned me around, facing the room. I now saw that everyone had left their seats and were now staring at the freak at the front of the restaurant. I couldn't find James anywhere. I was moved over by the doorway, next to the coat rack. Did they put a coat on me, to cover my near nudity? No. Of course, not. No, they pulled my hands over my head, clapped them together, elbows out, and scrunched me down so my legs bent at the knee, legs spread. They left me standing there, out of the way, like some Hindu belly dancer.

Naturally, my boobs lifted upward when they raised my hands like this and I couldn't get a man there to look me in the eye. My mouth was still shaped like I was about to say something, and the way I had been leaning forward meant I was nearly choking on my own breasts.

The waitresses chuckled at my discomfort. The male patrons whistled, shook their heads and or stared. Or all three. More chatter from the masses:

"Why don't we take her clothes off?"

"At least her top."

"Ya think they're real?"

"Who cares?"

"Can you imagine, coming in a place like this, and dressing like that?"

"Hey! Watch it! Look out, Darin!" A blonde waitress had to put in her two cents. Yeah, look at you, when you have me set up in the corner like a porn queen showing off her latest moves.

"Okay, enough is enough. Let's get back to work." Layla said.

Several minutes went by and the crowd dispersed back to their tables. I heard several of them mumble that they wish the restaurant allowed cameras so they could get a picture of the 'tanned, mental, hot piece of ass who wore the glow-in-the-dark bathing suit and wouldn't move.' And how no one would believe them when they told this story.

Someone got the bright idea to use their cell and dial up their friends.

Fifteen or twenty minutes passed by and people started coming in the door. Gretta was pissed at me, I could tell, since she kept glaring at me, but took every opportunity to point me out to the people who started filing in in droves. One of the new patrons got the bright idea to start moving my hands around with the time.

At 1:30, (I knew it was 1:30, because my left hand was cocked to the one, and my right hand, was moved down to my crotch area) someone FINALLY saw the writing on the front of my bathing suit. My hand was practically touching it myself.

"Hey, what's this? Touch here? Is she asking us to do this?" First and Second Guys from earlier were standing nearby and one of them smacked themselves in the forehead for not seeing it.

No shit, Sherlock. And then I saw a camera flash. What the...what happened to no pictures?

Then I saw who held the camera - Layla. What the hell? What did she have against me? What, one little comment in a hallway and now she's breaking company policy? I hope she gets fired. I did notice she made sure none of the other girls were in the picture when she decided to start snapping them. And snap them she did.

I don't know what came over the crowd - alcohol, mob tendencies or what, but they started playing with my arms. Second Guy from earlier started singing YMCA from the Village People and next thing I know, the song's playing in the restaurant. People are all doing the hand motions and they move me out to the center of the floor and I'm having a guy on either side of me moving my arms to the motions of Y-freaking-MCA. Why me, God, why me?

At the end of the song, someone, it felt like a girl, even smacked me on the ass! Gotdamnit that pissed me off. I have half a mind to change my doctoral program to a law program and go sue those bastards.

Amazingly, no one had had the temerity to actually touch my bathing suit! Oh, make me dance to some dork-ass song, move me, smack my butt, and sneak grabs on it here and there - heck, they even got a life-size stand-up poster of J-Lo and stood it next to me! But god forbid you actually read the instructions. And what the hell was wrong with me. For once in my life WANTED some stranger to touch my pussy, of all things. I really had no choice.

"Hey!! I have an idea!" I heard from the front of the restaurant. "Let's lay her up on the bar and drink shots off of her! She'll obviously never know. I mean, anyone who actually knows what's going on would have stopped us somewhere."

Layla was right in front of me, holding that camera, and she shrugged. "What the hell, may as well earn her keep, eh?"

This time, I felt guys hands all over me as they picked me up, stretched me out lengthwise and carried me across the room. Okay, enough already. I KNOW it doesn't take eight guys to lift up a 110 lb girl! Jerks. And they were copping feels all over the place. I am a HARRINGTON, dammit. My chest and butt were repeatedly grabbed. One guy kept running his hands down my leg like he was a limb-fetishist. I know I have soft, well-shaved, tanned and extremely shapely legs, but enough already! And then they laid me out on the bar.

On. The. Bar.

"Should we put her face up or face down? She does have that really nice ass!" A guy asked. I hadn't heard his voice before.

"Yeah, but I don't want to drink out of it!" Someone said. And the rest of the crowd laughed. Assholes. No pun intended.

They stretched my arms up over my head and out my hands together and put a test-tube shot in my hands. They then lined six more test-tube shots down my squeezed together legs with my ankles crossed. Naturally, two more test-tubes were thrust down my cleavage, and then someone got the bright idea of putting a shot glass in my mouth.

Gretta herself came over and moved my mouth around, till it looked like I wanted to suck a mean dick. Pardon my language, but I am STILL mad just thinking about it. Then she popped the shot-glass in my mouth.

"There you go, my little bitch." She said, her face very close to mine. "Who's the little slut now, hmm?" OHH, I wanted to slap that smirk off her face. Instead, I just stared blankly at the ceiling. "I don't know what curse was put on you, but I have to say it came at a great time. I've made eighty-five bucks tonight. Thanks!" She smiled a perfect little girly smile and then flicked my nipple. I couldn't so much as move my tongue where it pressed against the back of the shot glass. Another one was put in my belly-button.

Can I repeat something here? I am going to be a doctor! A DOCTOR. I'm not a got-damn bar! ARRRRGGH. I was so mad. I am still so mad, just thinking about it.

Flash, Flash, Flash. More camera shots. I didn't even want to think about where those were going to go. And somehow, these morons STILL avoided touching my crotch. Where did they get their morals from? Grab my butt, fondle my chest all night, but just don't go to her cooter.. in COOTERS? Why was I plagued by being around such idiots?

The bartender then poured the shots, sloppily, I might add. He started with the one in my mouth, and then dragged the line of vokda down along the test tubes in my cleavage, the shot glass on my belly and across my crotch and down my legs. My body gave an involuntary spasm from the chilled alcohol. All the patrons along the bar who were about to drink shots off of my body stopped and looked at me, probably wondering if I'd finally come out of my stupor.

But I hadn't, and after a moment, they all lined up to drink.

"On a 1.. and a two.. and a three!" the bartender shouted and they all leaned over, and without using their hands, mouthed the shots off of me, and tossed their heads back. I must have had a half of bottle of vodka slopped all over me. It gets better.

"Party foul!" One of the 'gentleman' yelled. "Have to lick it off the table!" The person next to him yelled. Yes, you guessed it. They all started licking all the vodka off of me! And this time, they didn't hold their hands behind their back. I had ten guys all licking me from head to toe. I hate to admit it, but it felt pretty good, though I was still pissed off. Two guys were licking my boobs, another six were on my legs, and a rather good-looking guy was licking my face, near my mouth. I started to actually get into the moment, all the sensations over my body!

He actually started kissing me, and he moaned, and I brought my hands to his face to pull him in for a real kiss. HANDS to my FACE? What? I was free! Some idiot had actually touched my bikini-bottom in JUST the right place when he grabbed my legs and butt to lick the vodka from the oh-so sensitive area around my crotch. I don't remember exactly, but I think he actually flicked a tongue across my bathing suit and that was enough.

Get into the moment? Schmoment!! I pushed that guy away from my face. "Get off me, ass!" I shook my legs, not wanting to kick anyone in the face. (See, I'm nice!)

"Off off off! All of you!" I shook my arms, my legs and swung over the side of the bar. When I slid off, the bathing suit rode up my butt, but I left it there. I KNEW what was written on there and didn't want anyone to remember it.

"What the hell?"

"What happened?"

"I thought she was mental or something?"

"Someone need to give her another pill?"

I started walking around the restaurant. I walked to the front door and grabbed a coat. I wanted to find James and I wanted to find him NOW. I started to feel a little something inside - like I might have enjoyed that little moment, just a bit too much. I needed to sort through my feelings and more importantly; I needed to put some clothes on!

I could still feel the stickiness of the vodka and I scrunched up my nose. I started to put on the coat I had grabbed.

"I thought you said she couldn't move? Dude, I came all the way down here for this."

"She was man. She was still as a statue, you saw her."

"Yeah, she ain't frozen now."

I was right near the stage, in the front of the restaurant, looking around for James. I thought I saw a glimpse of him in the back corner, but naturally, I couldn't move again. I was a m'f'ing statue. Normally, I don't curse very much. I know, hard to believe. I had my arms stretched behind me, trying to put on the coat and I was on tip-toe, looking over the stage. Tip toe!

"She was frozen, I don't know what the hell's up." Someone said.

"C'mon everyone, back to work." Leyla said. People started standing up from the bar, moving back to the tables. "Last call. It's closing time in about fifteen minutes."

"Look at her, she's frozen again! See that writing on her bathing suit? Freeze or something? That's it. Ya say the word, and she's frozen." Second Guy from earlier had figured it out, damn him.

"But how does she un-freeze? Does she remember all this shit?"

"Who cares! She's all still again!"

"Well, if she doesn't remember, can we strip her down?"

"Are you crazy man?" I still couldn't tell who was saying what. So many people saying so many things. But I did NOT want to be stripped down! Next thing I knew they'd want me to start giving them blowjobs. Where was James?? I know, lose the bathing suit and I'd be free, but with this drunk crowd, I just didn't want to risk it. I needed my dork boyfriend to get me out of there!

"None of that, gentlemen." Layla said. Bless her inner-city heart.

"Can we at least play with her some more?" One of the men pleaded. No, Leyla, No, no!

"Of course. I don't see why not. Just leave her clothes on." No! Take them off! At least if I were naked, I would have a fighting chance against you grubby handed low-lifes. I am a Harrington! How many times do I have to tell you this. If only my mouth worked! I know, I just said I wanted them on, but what is a poor little rich girl to do in a room full of deadbeat low-lifes?

Second Guy came up again, slid my coat off, and rubbed his hands along my bum repeatedly. His touch was soft, not rough at all. He even slid the bathing suit over, spreading it out across my rear.

"Oh, look at that artwork." He said quietly when he saw the tattoo. Almost immediately, more guys had gathered after the coat had been slipped off of me. Five guys stood immediately around me, First and Second Guys right in the front. As was Cute Guy who I'd almost kissed. A second row of men were behind them, and I had my back to the stage, and they had positioned my arms to that I was leaning against it, arms behind me, and over my head - almost crucifix like.

"What can we do with her?" First Guy said. I noticed the other waitresses were hustling drinks around the room and the party was certainly still in progress. I hoped they were happy making all that money! I was the Harrington sex object that boosted their profits!

"I know." Second guy said. He walked me over to the end of one table, put the heels of my hands on the end, and leaned me forward. He picked my head up and opened my mouth real wide.

"C'mon." He sat at the end of the table, and he reared back and smacked my butt resoundingly as he walked by. Everyone else followed his lead, each one making a handprint on my bum and I could feel the heat on my rear like I'd been sitting near a fire. They also sat around the table, with me at the head.

"Hey Leyla, got some cherries?" Oh no. No way. No. No. I am not going to...

"Sure, hon, no problem." She brought some over. No no. Not going to do this.

Second Guy stood up and came around to me. He whispered in my ear. "I know how it works now. I don't know why, but if I touch yer pussy, yer gonna be able to move. I say freeze again, and you freeze. Now, I wanna play this game. It's better if you can move once in a while."

I could feel his hand all over my rear! What kind of a molesting slob was this guy? He made swirling circling motions on it, and it totally repulsed me. I wanted to throw up! And his breath - the beer!

"Now, I'm gonna unfreeze ya, if you play along, you get to stay unfrozen. Only move to eat the cherries, deary." And then he slipped his hand around my front, and touched the magic spot that freed me.

"Are you freaking crazy?" I said, standing straight up again. There was no way I was going to be an object of some game by these jerks!

"What the hell, she's moving again?" First Guy said. Cute Guy just watched the entire thing, nodding his head.

"Freeze." Second Guy said with a leer. He bent me over as before, ending with a loud pat on the rump again.

Bouncer Guy came over. "Hey, you can move her around and stuff, but quit grabbing her like that, Darin."

"Yeah, yeah." Second Guy - Darin, said. He positioned my mouth again, and then sat back down at the end of the table.

Over the next ten minutes or so, I had cherries thrown at me from the five guys around the table. They kept a weird score - 10 points for one thrown in my mouth, twenty-five for one that lodged in my cleavage (8 eventually did. As I already said, I