Author's Note: This two-part story is a follow-up to The Nerd Conquest.

*****

Chapter One

Brooke sat at her desk and scanned the empty classroom. The twenty-eight-year-old teacher was about to lose the job she loved. It would be her fourth position lost since graduating college six years earlier.

The sides of her lips curled slightly upward as she considered which excuse her principal would offer for her termination. Brooke assumed he would cite budget cuts or some sort of restructuring. One of her previous employers actually attempted to fire her for cause and ended up paying her a minimal wrongful termination settlement. Simple budget cuts are the smart way to get rid of someone; this Brooke understood all too well.

In a way, Brooke didn't blame the principal, the school system, or even her ineffective teacher's union. Like her, the system only served as a pawn in a much larger scheme. She couldn't fault the others for playing their part in her drama any more than she could personally accept responsibility for falling into this situation in the first place.

Brooke's problems all started when she was a senior in high school. Instead of enjoying a final year with her friends, she had to move to a different town and build all new relationships. Unfortunately, what started out as a rough senior year of high school turned into a decade of broken dreams and heartbreak.

Brooke's father, a college professor, got himself into trouble with one of his students. Unfortunately, that pupil, Janice Barnette, was looking for much more than a simple teacher-student fling. She secretly videotaped several of their meetings and even tricked him into a compromising situation at one of the sororities. Despite claims that he never had actual intercourse with Janice or anyone at the sorority, he lost his job.

Even after Brooke's father moved to another school, Janice continued to use her leverage against him. To avoid further embarrassment, he basically paid for Janice's education in addition to numerous miscellaneous expenses.

Determined to help her father escape Janice's blackmail, Brooke enrolled at his former university. During her freshman year, she made friends with Janice and eventually participated in extortion schemes against several other college students. She was committed to winning Janice's trust at almost any cost.

One of their victims eventually helped Brooke break into Janice's computer and steal the evidence against her father. Mark was different than the other guys Janice entrapped, however. He wasn't some pervert stalker or creep; he was just a coed who found himself at the wrong time and place.

Mark was a stereotypical genius, great with equations and computers but not so skilled with personal relationships. In a strange way, Brooke and Mark had formed an effective team. She used her social acumen to work her way into Janice's inner circle, and he used his computer savvy to secure evidence against both the professor and him.

Unfortunately, Brooke also took advantage of Mark's social limitations and used his situation for her own amusement. While she helped him secure his freedom from Janice, she also took every opportunity to humiliate him along the way.

After securing the damning evidence, Brooke reached out to her father and let him know that he was off the hook. She also confronted Janice and warned her father's tormentor to back off. Brooke figured she would never hear from Janice again; she was wrong.

Less than a year after Janice graduated college, Brooke's father divorced her mother and quit his most recent teaching job. While he denied as much, Brooke knew the divorce was somehow connected to Janice. Within a few years, the former professor was bankrupt and substitute teaching at a local high school.

Brooke eventually graduated and embarked on a teaching career of her own. She met a nice guy and planned to start a family. Despite her father's combination of poor decisions and bad luck, she was finally enjoying her life.

Two years into Brooke's first teaching job, her world crashed in on itself. Her problems started when she found a bouquet of lilies on her classroom desk. At first, she thought the flowers were a gesture from her fiancé, but she was wrong. The note on the bouquet simply read "Like father, like daughter." She realized immediately that the gift was from Janice, and that they weren't a kind gesture at all; they were a message, a threat even.

That same afternoon, Brooke lost her first job. Despite her positive performance reviews, the superintendent told her that the school district was restructuring and had to cut her position. Less than a month later, her fiancé broke up with her; he used some lame excuse about the heart wanting what it wanted and insisted that the breakup hurt him more than it could ever hurt her. Bullshit.

Over the next few years, Brooke lost another fiancé and two more jobs. Now she was going to lose her fourth job, and there was nothing she could do about it. She knew Janice was somehow behind everything, but there was nothing she could do to prove it; she wouldn't even know where to start.

Brooke didn't even bother meeting with her boss. Instead, she boxed up her belongings and left her school keys in the desk drawer. She had been through enough layoffs to understand that she would get a month of severance pay as negotiated by her ineffective teacher's union. She would receive her last check via certified letter in a week to ten days. She also realized that it would be tough to find a fifth teaching job since she had already been laid off from every district in the area.

Brooke's mind raced as she drove out of the teacher's parking lot for the final time. She had no idea how to proceed with her life and career. Her bills were already piling up from several periods of unemployment. Her family was broke, and she didn't have time to go back to college. It was more than she could bear. Once a safe distance from the school, she pulled her dated red Corolla into a gas station parking lot, dropped her head to the steering wheel, and cried.

Eventually, Brooke managed to refocus. She had never been a quitter and wasn't about to give up now. She had no idea how she would deal with her current crisis, but she was prepared to press on with her life. She would worry about the specifics later. For the time being, she would go home, take a warm bath, and drink a glass of wine.

The drive home felt like it took hours even though she lived only a short distance from her former workplace. As Brooke pulled into her driveway, she was surprised to find a black SUV parked in front of her garage. She couldn't figure out who would show up unannounced at such a difficult time; her only guess was that Janice might be paying her a surprise visit. Brooke almost hoped it was Janice; a confrontation would make her feel at least a little better.

Brooke parked behind the SUV and attempted to look through the tinted windows. It didn't appear as though anyone was in the truck. Would Janice, or whoever's vehicle this was, actually break into her house? How would the visitor get past the alarm? Brooke thought for a second that it might be a thief but quickly convinced herself that such a scenario was unlikely.

Brooke cautiously opened her front door and peered inside the house. The alarm warning tone failed to sound indicating that someone had definitely disabled it. "Hello," she yelled through the entryway. "I've called the police. They'll be here any minute."

"You didn't call the police," a voice returned from Brooke's living room. "Come on in, Brooke. I just want to talk."

The voice sounded familiar to Brooke, but she couldn't place it; it sure as hell wasn't Janice. "Who are you?"

"Come on in," the voice insisted. "I'm here to help, and I imagine you could use some support about now."

Brooke stepped into her living room and saw a beautiful woman with long blonde hair sitting on the couch. The woman was wearing a professional blue skirt suit with a white ruffled blouse. She had an expensive leather satchel opened on the coffee table beside a tablet computer and a stack of papers.

"Hi, Brooke," the woman said extending an arm toward an empty recliner. "You don't remember me. Do you? I'll take that as a compliment."

"Take it however you want," Brooke snapped. "Who are you, and why are you in my house?"

"I'm Emily," the woman answered brushing her curly blonde hair over her shoulder and motioning again for Brooke to take a seat. "We went to college together."

"Emily?" Brooke replied. She sat down and leaned in toward her guest with squinted eyes. "Emily Childress? How long's it been? Five...six years?"

"Emily Chapman," Brooke's former acquaintance corrected. "It has been a while. Ten years, actually."

Perplexed, Brooke leaned back in her chair. Why would someone she barely knew from college show up out of nowhere? Why today?

"You're confused," Emily consoled. "I don't blame you at all. Like I said, I'm here to help you. Mr. Griffin sent me."

"Mr. Griffin?" Brooke laughed. "You mean Mark?"

"Yes," Emily returned. "Mark Griffin sent me."

"Mark sent you to break into my house?"

"Mr. Griffin," Emily corrected. "Mr. Griffin sent me here to help you."

"Help me?" Brooke replied. "How exactly are YOU going to help ME?"

"Mr. Griffin has been keeping tabs on you," Emily offered. "You and Janice both."

"Me and Janice," Brooke snapped at the mention of her nemesis. "What the fuck does Janice have to do with this, and why is Mark keeping tabs on me?"

"Mr. Griffin knows about what happened at your school today," Emily continued. "Mr. Griffin also knows that Janice is responsible for your termination. This isn't the first time Janice has cost you your job. Is it?"

"What...But, how?"

Emily continued. "Mr. Griffin also believes that Janice is responsible for breaking up both of your engagements."

"But how does Mark know all this?" Brooke asked. "And why do you keep calling him Mr. Griffin?"

"Don't worry about how Mr. Griffin found out," Emily suggested. "Just know that he has very powerful friends. I call him Mr. Griffin because I work for him, and he prefers a more formal relationship."

Brooke covered her face with her hands and mumbled under her breath. All of this was too much for her. The last time she saw Mark, or Mr. Griffin, he was essentially Janice's bitch. Now Emily was working for him, and he was apparently so well connected that he had access to everyone's personal information?

"It's a lot to take in," Emily assured Brooke. "Don't worry about Mr. Griffin. He's only looking out for you. He believes that he owes you since you helped him with Janice."

"But why is Janice fucking with my life?" Brooke asked. "Why would she even care about me after all this time?"

"Come on, Brooke," Emily returned. "You know Janice. Did you really think she would let you get away with what you did?"

"What I did?" Brooke chided. "I only gave my father the evidence Janice was holding over his head. It's not like I was able to save his job or even his marriage for all that matters."

"I don't know what else to tell you," Emily added. "Janice is determined to destroy your life. Mr. Griffin feels as though he owes you, and that's why he sent me."

"How exactly is Mark going to help me?" Brooke queried. "It's not like he can get my job back."

"He can get your job back," Emily offered. "If that's what you want, you can return to work tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Brooke begged. "How's that even possible?"

"It's like I said," Emily returned. "Mr. Griffin is very well connected."

"You're serious?" Brooke scoffed.

"I am serious," Emily responded. "There's a catch, though."

"Of course, there's a catch," Brooke returned sarcastically. "There's always a catch. Isn't there?"

"I don't know about always, but there is a catch in this instance," Emily continued in a professional tone. "Someone on the school board had arranged for you to be laid off; he did it to cover up his own affair. Janice was going to expose him unless he helped remove you from your job. If it's what you want, we'll handle the situation and make sure your position is restored."

"Wow," Brooke answered. "You can do that?"

"We can," Emily returned. "But, as I said, there is a catch. If Mr. Griffin gets your job back, the two of you are even. He will not expect anything from you in return for his intervention, but he will also refuse to help you when Janice comes after you again?"

"So you'll help me now," Brooke clarified. "Then if Janice gets me fired again, I'm on my own."

"That's correct," Emily assured. "That's your first option."

"My first choice?" Brooke asked. "What other options do I have?"

"Your other option is that we deal with Janice once and for all," Emily responded. "You wouldn't get your teaching job back, but you would be taken care of."

"Once and for all?" Brooke answered. "What are you going to do? Kill her?"

"No," Emily responded with a condescending chuckle. "Mr. Griffin's not a killer. He's a problem solver, and, frankly, you have a big problem."

"How exactly would you deal with Janice, then?" Brooke asked skeptically. "It's not like she's just going to stop fucking with my life. Shutting her down will require a hell of a lot more than a problem solver."

"If you choose the second option," Emily retorted. "Janice will not only leave you alone; she'll be punished for meddling in your life and the lives of others."

"Punished?" Brooke asked. She enjoyed the idea of Janice facing retribution. "How so?"

"Don't worry about that for now," Emily insisted. "You need to make a decision. You can take the first option and go back to work tomorrow, or you trust us to solve the problem once and for all. Just know that the second alternative comes at a cost."

"I would have to pay this cost?"

"That's right. If you want Janice dealt with once and for all, you would have to make those arrangements with Mr. Griffin."

"Oh, I see," Brooke snapped. "Mark wants revenge for what I made him do in college even though I'm the one who helped him escape Janice's blackmail."

"It's not about revenge," Emily insisted. "Mr. Griffin's technology and connections provide him with a tremendous amount of influence. He believes that justice must accompany such privilege."

"I don't even know what that means," Brooke chided. "Sounds like a fucking power trip to me."

"That's fine," Emily answered. "Mr. Griffin generally doesn't worry about what other people think of him, but I'm afraid I need an answer from you right now. We can get your job back, or you can meet with Mr. Griffin tomorrow. He'll work out the details with you in person."

"What about my job?" Brooke responded. "If I meet with Mr. Griffin tomorrow, would I still get my job back?"

"That's between you and Mr. Griffin," Emily said. "Just know that your financial needs will be taken care of no matter what."

"Can I sleep on it?" Brooke asked.

"No," Emily returned quickly. "I need an answer now."

"Well, that doesn't give me much of a choice then," Emily responded. "Does it?"

"Not really," Emily agreed. "I'll inform Mr. Griffin of your decision."

Chapter Two

Brooke stepped into the massive atrium to Mr. Griffin's office building and looked for the security station. According to Emily's instructions, Brooke had to obtain a visitor's pass before making her way to his top floor office. She was quite nervous about seeing Mark for the first time since college, and she found it hard to concentrate on even the simplest of tasks.

The massive office building itself spoke to Mark's new position in life. The twenty-eight-story facility featured rows of glass elevators streaking up and down the marble atrium walls. The large foyer wrapped around a three-tiered water fountain. The fountain stood adjacent to a kiosk where visitors lined up for coffee and bakery items. Several clothing and gift shops along with a fast food restaurant occupied the office building's inner walls.

Just opposite the coffee stand stood a large marble desk with three security guards. There would be no way anyone, let alone Brooke, would get to the elevators without passing a security check.

Anxious to get on with her rendezvous, Brooke stepped up to the first security guard, a large man with a scraggly mustache.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" the guard asked inattentively.

"Uhm, yes," Brooke responded. "I'm here to see Mar...Mr. Griffin."

"Name?" the guard returned in an apathetic tone.

"Brooke Mitchell."

"Yes," the guard responded. "I see you on my list. It says we need to clear you before your meeting with Mr. Griffin."

"Clear me?" Brooke queried. "Isn't that what we're doing now?"

The large man rolled his eyes. "Sign here," he said as he handed Brooke a clipboard. Just as she started to scribble her name, the man ordered her to "look up." Before she had to time to lift her head completely, the guard snapped a quick photo of her face.

Brooke handed the signup sheet back to the guard in exchange for her badge featuring what was probably the worst picture she had ever taken.

"Go to the twelfth floor," the guard said turning his eyes to the next person in the security line. "Tell them you're here for Mr. Griffin."

"What do I need to do on the twelfth floor?" Brooke asked.

"They'll go through all that when you get there," the guard responded. He again shifted his attention to the next person in his growing line. "Next please."

Brooke clipped her visitor's badge to her red blouse and stepped through a turnstile next to the elevator bank. Within a few seconds, she was zipping upward in the elegant glass car; the fountain and security desk appeared progressively smaller as her carriage ascended the atrium wall.

After a few laps around the twelfth floor, Brooke finally found the security station. She stepped nervously into what felt more like a doctor's office waiting room than a security center. The lounge smelled of fresh flowers and was furnished with plush leather couches and expensive chairs. In the back of the room, she noticed a small refrigerator with a tinted glass door and a coffee machine stocked with various hot drink options.

One of the two women in the room looked up at Brooke briefly before returning her attention to a magazine. The waiting area's single male occupant took a little longer to inspect the group's newest member.

Brooke stepped up to a large glass window and looked back into the office area for anyone who could help her. Within seconds, a young woman with long brown hair and a blue skirt suit stepped up to the window.

"Can I assist you?" the woman asked.

"Uh, yes," Brooke responded. She was considerably more nervous than she had figured to be. "I'm supposed to meet with Mark Griffin. The guard downstairs told me to come up here. They said I had to be cleared or something."

"Oh," the desk lady responded. "Do you have your paperwork?"

"My paperwork?" Brooke asked anxiously. She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm just here to visit with Mr. Griffin. Why would I need paperwork?"

The woman behind the glass smiled condescendingly at Brooke. "No one meets with Mr. Griffin without clearance." The woman pulled a stack of documents from her drawer and extended them through the window. "Please read through these. Initial the bottom of each page, and sign the last sheet. You'll need to hurry since your appointment is in less than thirty minutes."

Brooke looked at the thick document. She was taken aback that she had to sign the equivalent of a mortgage application just to meet with her former college friend. "Is this for real? I just need to meet with Mr. Griffin. I even have an appointment."

"Sorry," The woman said in a matter-of-fact tone. "If you want to meet with Mr. Griffin, you have to sign the release forms." The receptionist closed the window between her and Brooke then stepped out of view.
Brooke sat down in one of the leather couches and started looking through the papers. From the corner of her eye, she could see the same guy who checked her out earlier. He was staring intently at her and making the young blonde even more nervous than she already had been.

Trying to ignore her audience, Brooke flipped through the release trying her best to decipher the thick legal jargon. As far as she could tell, she was giving up any right to privacy in exchange for the privilege of Mark Griffin's presence. She consented to electronic surveillance, a credit check, and even a strip search. She also agreed to never discuss the meeting with anyone and that she wouldn't file a lawsuit against anyone participating in her appointment. With just a few minutes to read such a massive document, there was no way she would ever get a full sense of what she was signing. Even so, she desperately needed Mark's help.

Brooke was relieved when one of the other ladies in the waiting room returned to the reception window with a signed copy of the same document. At least this wasn't something Mark put together specifically for her. As excessive as the document was, it appeared to be a standard waiver.

Brooke finally decided to go ahead and sign the release. She figured that she could always leave the meeting if Mark asked her to do anything she wasn't comfortable with. It would take a lawyer to effectively sort through the document, and she was no lawyer.

"Here you go," Brooke said handing the waiver to the lady behind the window.

"Excellent," the receptionist responded. "Do you see the empty containers by the coffee machine?"

Brooked looked back and saw a stack of several decorated boxes, each about a cubic foot large. "I see them," Brooke answered.

"Good," The receptionist replied. "I need you to put your clothes and all your belongings in one of those boxes then bring it to me. I'll keep an eye on your things while you meet with Mr. Griffin."

"Excuse me," Brooke snapped. "You want me to take off my clothes. You must be out of your fucking mind."

"Watch your mouth, young lady," the woman scolded. "Until you're cleared, you can't bring anything into Mr. Griffin's office. That, unfortunately for you, includes your clothes."

"There's no way," Brook demanded. "Are you telling me that everyone who visits Mark has to strip naked first?"

"Mr. Griffin rarely meets with visitors. When he does, they have to remove their clothing first. You don't have to meet with Mr. Griffin if you don't want to, but, if you choose to do so, your clothes stay here."

"Fuck this," Brooke snapped. "And don't tell me to watch my mouth."

Fuming mad, Brooke made her way back to the elevator bank. She slammed her fist against the down button hoping to get out of the massive office building as quickly as possible. Just as the elevator door opened, her phone rang. It was Emily.

"What?" Brooke stepped into the elevator and smashed her finger into the button for the first floor.

"Are you not meeting with Mr. Griffin?" Emily blurted back at Brooke. "He's expecting you."

"They want me to take off my clothes first," Brooke snapped back. "This is such bullshit. How do I even know it wasn't Mark who got me fired in the first place?"

"Now calm down," Emily consoled. "You know Mr. Griffin didn't get you fired. That was Janice's doing through-and-through."

"So, what?" Brooke returned. "Now I have to strip naked just to see Mark. He's apparently trying to get back at me for what happened in college."

"No," Emily insisted. "This is somewhat standard protocol for Mr. Griffin. He's a little paranoid about people wearing wires or trying to bug his office. Last year, he insisted that first-time guests would have to strip naked before meeting with him. He does it to just about everyone, guys included."

"You're telling me that he makes everyone meet with him naked?" Brooke asked.

"Not everyone," Emily replied. "Just new guests who haven't been cleared through his security team. Most of the time, he has a week or more to plan a meeting. This gives his team ample time to check into whomever Mr. Griffin might be meeting with."

"Fine," Brooke responded as the elevator landed on the first floor. "Have them call me when I'm cleared. Then I'll meet with your psycho boss." As Brooke stepped out of the elevator, she noticed Emily waiting for her.

"Hi, Brooke," Emily said making a point to hang up her cell phone. She put her arm around Brooke and led the former school teacher back into the elevator cab.

"What are you doing?" Brooke protested even though she didn't try to break free from Emily's grip. "I'm not going back up there."

"Just ride back up with me," Emily said. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"Fine," Brooke said. She crossed her arms over her chest in frustration.

Emily pressed the button to the twelfth floor. "Let's just catch our breath. Shall we?"

The two ladies rode quietly up the atrium wall. Unlike Brooke's first trek up the elevator path, this trip felt as though it lasted an eternity.

Once back on the twelfth floor and out of the elevators, Emily walked Brooke to a metal bench. "Are you okay?" Emily asked.

"Am I okay?" Brooke fired back sarcastically. "I lost my job yesterday, and I have no idea what to do. Now they're telling me I have to take off my clothes just to meet with the mighty Mr. Griffin. No, I'm not okay."

Emily leaned into Brooke and gave the former school teacher a hug. "Mr. Griffin can help you," Emily whispered into Brooke's ear. "He will help you."

"By making me..."

"Don't worry about that," Emily interrupted. "So what if you have to get naked for a few minutes first. Your Janice problem will be solved once and for all."

Brooke looked deeply into Emily's eyes as if trying to discern the truth. "You promise?" Brooke asked. "You promise he'll take care of everything."

"I promise," Emily repeated. She held a hand over her heart and tilted her head slightly. "But you have to get back in there right now."

"Will you come with me?" Brooke asked.

"Sorry," Emily responded. "You have to do this on your own. If you want Mr. Griffin's help, you must face him first. I had to do the same thing, and I'm glad I did."

"Fine," Brooke relented. "I'll do it. Will you at least wait for me?"

"I will," Emily said. "I'll wait for you down by the fountain. We'll get a drink when you're done."

"Thanks, Emily," Brooke said. She gave Emily a cautious hug. "Thanks for everything."

Brooke slowly made her way back to the security office. She wasn't looking forward to what she had to do, but she was well aware of her life's impending futility. She could only hope that Mark would go easy on her.

"You're back," the lady behind the glass window joked. "Better hurry up and get ready if you want to see Mr. Griffin today."

Brooke understood that by 'get ready,' the lady actually meant 'get naked.'

Brooke walked past the same guy and two women who were in the waiting room a few minutes earlier. This time, all their eyes were unmistakably trained on her as she prepared to remove her clothes. She knew she couldn't let her audience freak her out or prevent her from following through with her mission.

Brooke picked up one of the decorated boxes and set it on a leather couch. She opened the lid cautiously. Somehow, the empty space inside the box felt intimidating, like a black hole. Along with her wardrobe, she would be packing away her pride and even control over her own life. To her, the box represented surrender. She was yielding to Mark, the same guy she helped torment in college.

Brooke first removed her security badge and dropped it into the box. She figured there wouldn't be anywhere for her to clip it to, at least not anywhere appropriate. After the badge, she took a moment to remove her black heels and matching belt. She then slid her thigh-high stockings off one by one adding them to her fancy box. With her accessories in the container, she accepted that it was time to put her naked body on display. She was about to give everyone in the waiting room a show.

Brooke looked behind herself and scanned the room. She glared momentarily at each member of her audience until they looked away. She figured they would return their gaze soon enough, but she wasn't going to make it easy on them.

"Hurry up, Miss Mitchell," the receptionist said from behind her glass window. "Mr. Griffin is expecting you."

Keeping her back turned to the room of spectators, Brooke fought to steady her shaking hands. She unbuttoned her red silk blouse slowly revealing a black lace bra. Her bottom button wouldn't seem to let go of its hole, something that always happened when she removed this particular top. Frustrated and unable to work the fastener free, Brooke ripped the plastic circle from its thread.

As Brooke pulled the blouse off her shoulders, she could imagine what the other waiting room occupants and the receptionist saw. The back and shoulder straps of her bra would hardly titillate her audience, but the first glimpse of her brazier portended the more revealing view to come.

Brooke reached around herself and slid her skirt's zipper down her backside. As the skirt separated, she imagined the group checking out her black panties tucked uncomfortably into her ass crack. As she slid the skirt down her legs, the snug material tugged against her silk underwear and momentarily revealed her butt cheeks to the group. Not wanting to face the waiting room occupants or show off more than necessary, she cautiously avoided turning toward the spectators as she stepped out of the skirt.

Brooke thought she heard the two ladies whispering to each other behind her back. She assumed they were discussing her striptease but couldn't tell whether their observations were complimentary or otherwise. Ultimately, it didn't matter. She would never see anyone in that room again. She just had to fight through the striptease and prepare for her real test, facing Mark Griffin while completely naked.

"Miss Mitchell," the receptionist prodded gently. "We have to leave now."

Brooke knew she couldn't stall any longer; she had to quickly remove her last articles of clothing. First, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. One after another, she slid the shoulder straps down her arms then let the garment fall to the floor.

Cautious about keeping her back to the waiting area, Brooke grabbed her panties and, with a quick jerk, pushed them down her legs. She picked up her bra and panties from the floor and threw them into the decorative box. Brooke carefully positioned her hands over her tits and pussy then turned toward the receptionist and other onlookers.

"I'm ready now," Brooke said. "Can we go?"

"Sure," the receptionist said. "I just need your box first."

Brooke did her best to put the lid on the box and pick it up while keeping herself covered. Holding one hand over her pussy, she released the other hand from her tits just long enough to lift the container off the couch. She slowly carried the box to the receptionist and carefully set it on the window's base.

"Do you have your badge?" the receptionist asked.

"Really?" Brooke said. "I put it in the box. Why do I need my badge?"

"Sorry, Miss Mitchell," the lady said. "We can't leave without your laminate. You have to have it with you at all times."

Brooke realized she had no choice but to expose her breasts to the waiting room occupants. There would be no way to dig her badge back out of the box while keeping herself completely covered. She set the box on the chair and frantically started rummaging for the plastic badge. She could sense the small group of onlookers gawking at her exposed body.

Brooke could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage as she struggled to locate the laminated identification document. The more she hurried her search, the longer it seemed to take. Finally, after giving the group a nice long look at her nipples, she located the clip-on credentials.

"Got it," Brooke said to the receptionist as she instinctively returned her free hand to its position over her chest.

"Great," the lady behind the window said as she pressed a buzzer. "Come on back here. I'll walk you to Mr. Griffin's office."

As grateful as Brooke was to get out of the waiting room, she was equally nervous about her journey to Mark's office. She knew that he was on the top floor. Certainly, they didn't expect her to take the glass elevator that hovered conspicuously over the atrium. She would be exposed to the entire building.

"I'll take that," the receptionist in said as she grabbed Brooke's box of clothes from the window ledge. The lady locked the container in a large closet then motioned for Brooke to follow her back into the office area.

Brooke kept her hands firmly over her private parts as she followed the lady into a back hall and to a service elevator. As much as Brooke hated traipsing through some unknown building without her clothes, she was thankful for the privacy.

As the elevator doors opened on the top floor, Brooke saw a security desk with an older looking security guard. The man hardly lifted his head as she followed her guide out of the elevator and to his desk.

"Miss Mitchell is here to see Mr. Griffin," the lady said to the guard.

The guard looked over the two women but didn't act as though Brooke's nudity was cause for concern. "Badges," the guard said extending his hand towards the women.

The guard accepted and scanned the receptionist's credentials before reaching for Brooke's identification. In passing over her badge, Brooke had to momentarily expose her tits to the guard, but he offered no reaction.

"Go on back," the security officer said as he returned the badges.

The lady led Brooke down a long marble hallway toward an oversized double-door entrance. The woman then opened one of the solid oak doors for Brooke. "Go on up to the desk and wait for Mr. Griffin. I'll stay here and walk you back down when you're finished."

Brooke stepped into the large empty room. The same marble adorning the main atrium covered the office's floor and towering walls. The room didn't boast any windows, and, except for a large desk and office chair, was devoid of furniture. The open space made her nervous. There was nowhere to hide, not even somewhere she could sit down.

Brooke walked up to the vacant desk and stood quietly with her arms over her tits and pussy. There was no sign of Mark or anyone else. She worried about how long she would be expected to stand there.

Within a couple of minutes, Brooke heard a door open in the back of the room. She hardly recognized the man who joined her in the vast office. He was slender and dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, expensive shoes, and a pressed white shirt with gold cufflinks. Could this be Mark? If so, he didn't look anything like the college nerd she remembered.

The man walked up to the desk and, without a word, sat down. He adjusted his glasses and pulled a manila file folder from his top desk drawer. He paused momentarily to inspect the naked woman standing in front of his desk.

"Hi, Brooke," the man finally said. He opened the folder and started shuffling through tax and other legal documents. "It's been a long time. Hasn't it?"

"Mark...Mr. Griffin...Is that you?"

Mark smiled gracefully. "I get that a lot," he said. "I've changed since my college days. In a way, I have you to thank for that. You and Janice that is."

"About that," Brooke said clutching her naked body tighter than ever. "You know I'm sorry about everything that happened back then? You do remember how I helped you? Don't you?"

Mark took off his glasses and set them on his desk. He looked down momentarily as if he was collecting his thoughts. Finally, he gazed upward at Brooke staring softly as if he could see into her soul. "That's all water under the bridge. Besides, we're not here to talk about me. We're here because you have a problem, and you need my help."

"Thanks," Brooke said. "I do. I do have a problem...with Janice."

"And you would like my help?" Mark added.

"Well," Brooke said shuffling nervously on her bare feet. "Emily said that..."

"Don't tell me what Emily said," Mark interrupted calmly. He methodically picked his glasses back up and slid them over his eyes. "Tell me what you want. Do YOU want my help?"

"I do," Brooke answered nervously. "Please. I do want your help. I need your help."

Mark leaned back in his chair and stared at Brooke with pursed lips.

"Is that okay?" Brooke queried breaking the short but awkward silence.

"Sure," Mark said. "It's okay to ask. It's always okay to ask."

"So," Brooke said. She was surprised there was even a question as to whether Mark would assist her. Maybe he just wanted her to beg, something she was willing, even if reluctant, to do. "Will you help me?"

"Why?" Mark asked after another pause. "Why should I help you?"

"Well," Brooke said. "I helped you when we were in college. Do you remember that?"

"I do remember," Mark replied. "And I'll help you get your job back right away if that's what you want. It's the least I can do."

"What about Janice?" Brooke asked. "Emily said she would do this again."

"What do you think?" Mark asked. "Do you think she'll continue to harass you?"

"I know she will," Brooke answered. "She did it before."

"So you want me to deal with Janice?" Mark returned.

"Yes," Brooke said. "I want you to help me deal with Janice once and for all."

"Then my question stands," Mark insisted. "Why should I intervene between you and Janice? Helping you get your job back is one thing. Helping you stop Janice is something else altogether."

"Why should you help me with Janice?"

"That's what I asked."

Brooke looked nervously at Mark. He wasn't going to make this easy on her. In a way, she didn't blame him; she would likely do the same if the roles were reversed. Slowly, she dropped her hands to her sides exposing her naked body. A decade after she first demanded he remove his clothes for her, she presented herself naked and exposed in front of him.

Mark looked intently and Brooke's naked form. His eyes drifted back and forth between her face and her exposed tits and pussy. Her humiliation was palpable.

"I'll ask you again," Mark said quietly but confidently. "Why should I help you?"

"I don't know," Brooke responded choking back tears. "What do you want? Why don't you just tell me what I have to do?"

Mark rested his chin on his hands and looked down at his desk. After yet another pause, he pressed the speaker button on his phone. "Maggie, can you bring my guest a chair?"

"Yes, Mr. Griffin," a voice returned through the phone.

"And a robe," Mark added.

"Yes, Mr. Griffin."

Seconds later, an attractive woman in her forties opened the same door Mark entered through previously and rolled a chair across the room to Brooke. A plush white robe rested on the seat cushion.

"Thanks, Maggie," Mark said as his assistant started back out of the room.

"Yes, Mr. Griffin," Maggie answered.

Brooke grabbed the robe and draped it around her naked body then sat down in the chair. The soft cotton comforted her body.

"Let's talk business," Mark said. "How about that?"

"Business? Brooke returned. "I would like that a lot."

"I'm going to give you a choice," Mark said. "With your first option, you get your job back but have to deal with Janice on your own."

"Yes. Emily told me about that," Brooke offered. She did her best to conceal her frustration. "What's the second option?"

"The second option is that you come work for me," Mark said.

"Work for you?" Brooke asked. "But what about Janice?"

"She'll be your first assignment," Mark said. "Janice will be dealt with, and you'll be responsible for keeping an eye on her."
"She'll be dealt with?" Brooke asked. "How so?"

"Don't worry about that right now," Mark said. "Emily will bring you up to speed on all that. You'll be paid double what you earned at your other job, and you can go back to teaching any time you want."

"I'll take the second option," Brooke said. "Without a doubt."

"Hold on," Mark said. "The second option comes at a price."

"A price," Brooke responded nervously. "What kind of price?"

"Well," Mark said. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "You participated in Janice's games in college. You helped her humiliate several other guys and me too if I remember correctly."

"Yeah," Brooke added. "You already know I did that to help my father. I helped you too."

"I do know that," Mark agreed. "Your motivation was beyond reproach, but that doesn't mean your actions were without consequence."

"Consequence?" Brooke responded. "You want to punish me. Is that it? I helped Janice humiliate you, and you expect me to pay."

"I want justice," Mark corrected. "It wouldn't be equitable for us to ask Janice to make things right if you're not willing to do the same. Would it?"

Brooke looked down at the floor. Her skin was burning under the plush white robe. "What do I have to do?"

"Tomorrow night," Mark answered. "You're going to have some friends over, and you're going to put on a show for them."

"What friends," Brooke asked. "What kind of a show?"

"Emily will go through the details with you," Mark said. "Unfortunately, I need your answer right now. You can go back to your teaching job tomorrow, or you can start working for me the day after tomorrow."

"But if I come to work for you," Emily clarified. "I'll be humiliated in front of my friends?"

"I'm afraid those are your options," Mark said. "And you have to decide right now."

"Can you at least tell me who'll be at this party?" Brooke asked.

"Sorry," Mark answered. "I can't tell you that, and I hate to press you like this. I do need a decision now, though."

Brooke dropped her head into her hands. Her temperature was rising. "Okay. I'll do it."

Chapter Three

Brooke sat at her kitchen table flipping through her phone. She was mortified by what was about to happen even though it was something she had agreed to and had even helped plan. Despite her hopes to the contrary, she already had several confirmations to her social media invitation. She was about to host a house full of guests who would be in for more than they ever could have expected.

As part of her agreement with Mark, Brooke had sent out online invitations to all the teachers at the multiple schools she used to teach at. The message only said that she was hosting a retirement party celebrating her exit from the teaching world. The notice gave no indication that she intended to humiliate herself in front of her former friends and co-workers.

Brooke's life had changed two days earlier when she was laid off from her fourth teaching job in ten years. She knew Janice, a former friend from college, was behind the termination. In fact, Janice had been tormenting Brooke since their time together at the university.

For better or worse, Emily and Mark, two other college acquaintances, offered to help Brooke not only regain employment but also put an end to Janice's torment. However, their support came with a price.

Before Mark would help Brooke with her Janice problem, he insisted that Brooke make amends for her role in humiliating him while they were in college together a decade earlier.

According to Brooke's agreement, she would host a get-together with her former colleagues. At the gathering, she was expected to put herself through the same sort of humiliation she helped thrust upon Mark. He didn't give her any specific guidelines for the event but instead warned that she would have to try again if she went too easy on herself. With no intention of enduring a second evening of humiliation, she intended to make this party count.

"Fifteen," Brooke whispered to herself as she looked at her phone again. She was flabbergasted that so many of her former co-teachers were planning to attend her party. Several of the RSVP's were from people she barely knew or hadn't seen her in years.

Brooke slammed her phone on the table and started pacing around her kitchen. She was having second thoughts. She considered the consequences of reneging on her arrangement with Mark. Could she fend off Janice without his help? Would dealing with Janice be worse than going through her evening of humiliation?

With almost two hours left before her party was set to begin, Emily knocked on Brooke's front door. Emily was certainly there to ensure that the former teacher followed through with the plan and that she was adequately humiliated before night's end. Brooke's opportunity for backing out had passed.

"Emily," Brooke said nervously as she greeted her guest. "You're awful early. Aren't you?"

"Is that a problem?" Emily responded coldly. She looked up and down her host making a mental note of Brooke's blue jeans and tank top. In contrast, Emily was wearing a professional blue skirt suit with a light blue blouse. "Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"I will," Brooke said. "I have almost two hours. What's the hurry?"

"That's up to you," Emily said. "I just hope you take tonight seriously. We don't want to go through this again. Do we?"

"No," Brooke agreed. "We don't."

"All right, then," Emily insisted taking a seat at the kitchen table. She grabbed an orange from a fruit bowl and dug her nails into its skin. "You better go get ready."

"What do you think?" Brooke asked. "I mean what do you think I should wear?"

"That's up to you," Emily said. "Just make it count. I can't caution you enough against trying to half-ass this thing. Mr. Griffin is expecting something dramatic."

"You can't give me any ideas?" Brooke begged. "I don't want to disappoint Mark. What will it take to make him happy?"

"I can't say," Emily replied. "Mr. Griffin will make up his own mind. If you need my help at some point, I'll be here. Just know that Mr. Griffin will be the final say on whether your performance is acceptable or not."

Brooke thought about arguing with Emily but understood that Mark, or Mr. Griffin, was making the decisions. In a way, Brooke was glad he wouldn't be attending her party. In another way, his absence, along with the lack of clear direction, made her very nervous.

Brooke left Emily alone in the kitchen and headed to the master bedroom. As much as she needed to prepare for her evening, Brooke wanted a few more minutes of alone time. The thought of someone else lording over the event didn't sit well with her. This was especially the case considering that Mark had the final and only say as to whether her humiliation was adequate. Emily's presence was superfluous at best.

Brooke closed the door to her bedroom and stared at the shopping bag on her bed. She had invested the better part of her morning purchasing accessories for her performance. She had never used most of the items she had purchased. It didn't feel right that her first time would be in front of an audience, let alone a gathering of former co-workers.

While Brooke had a basic plan for her eventual performance, she wasn't sure how to greet her guests. Since many of her invitees were simply work acquaintances, they would hardly be expecting her to answer the door completely naked or even in some skimpy lingerie.

Brooke had initially been leaning toward greeting her guests in a black lace thong and bra. As zero hour approached, she worried about starting her evening out in such a risqué outfit. She decided instead to adorn a red velvet bodysuit she had purchased the year before but never had the courage to wear. She figured it was sexy enough to make a statement but would leave something for her grand performance.

Realizing she had to get moving, Brooke jumped into the shower to wash her hair and get ready for the party. She reminded herself that, while it was going to be a terrible evening, she would finally be able to put Janice in her rightful place. The idea of getting even a little revenge would make all the suffering and humiliation Brooke was about to endure worth it; at least, that's what the former school teacher was telling herself.

Brooke let the shower run through her straight blonde hair then down her back and legs. The warm rushing water soothed her body and relaxed her mind; it was as if time was standing still, as if she had hit the pause button on her life. The last couple of days were some of the toughest she had endured, and she was facing what would likely be the most humiliating night of her life. At the very least, her shower's privacy provided momentary solace.

Brooke knew she couldn't stall too much longer. It would only be a matter of time before Emily would pound on the bedroom door. Brooke gave herself another minute to enjoy the warm water then forced herself back to reality. It was time to get ready.

Brooke wrapped herself in a large white towel and proceeded to dry her hair. Unlike the rest of her house, the master bathroom was a mess. Typically, with company visiting, Brooke would worry about the clutter; tonight was hardly a typical evening, however.

After brushing her hair, Brooke put on some makeup. In contrast to her days in college, the twenty-eight-year-old never wore much in the way of cosmetics. She would generally apply a thin layer of foundation, some eye liner, and a muted tone of lipstick.

"Brooke," Emily yelled through the bedroom door with a not-so-subtle knock. "Brooke, are you ready? Your guests'll be here any minute."

"Just a second," Brooke yelled with more than a hint of attitude. "I'll be there in a second."

"Okay," Emily returned. "Just hurry up."

Brooke shoved her bag of props under the bed and picked up the red velvet body suit. Nervously, she loosened the towel's fold around her chest and let it fall to the floor. Even alone in her room, she felt exposed and on display. "You can do this," she promised herself. "Just a few more hours, and this'll all be over."

Brook stepped into the bodysuit. She had originally purchased the red velvet outfit on a whim a few years earlier. She had planned to wear it with jeans but, ironically, decided it was more revealing than she felt comfortable with in public. The bodysuit had long sleeves and a plunging neckline. If her marginal tits were any larger, the v-cut would never contain her cleavage. The suit fit snugly between her legs but covered most of her ass. Fortunately, her body type was perfect for such an ensemble.

While the bodysuit hardly left Brooke exposed, it would be enough to capture her guests' imagination as they filled her house. She expected some questions and comments about her lack of clothing but planned to laugh them off—at least initially.

Brooke took one last moment to inspect herself in the mirror. She looked sexy, slutty even, but her key parts were, for the time being, completely covered. She couldn't hide away in her bedroom anymore. It was time to face Emily.

"Wow," Emily said as Brooke stepped out of her bedroom. "Don't you look cute?"

"Thanks," Brooke replied. Her hands instinctively wrapped around her body. "You think this'll be okay?"

"That's up to you," Emily responded. She took Brooke by the hand and escorted her into the living room and to a console table by the wall. Emily pointed out a black decorative globe by a stack of books. "I've set up hidden cameras around your house. Mr. Griffin isn't going to be here tonight, but he'll be watching from his office. If he's happy with your performance, he'll meet with you tomorrow and discuss his plans for dealing with Janice."

Brooke looked nervously into the globe. As she leaned down, Brooke held her bodysuit's neckline in place to prevent her boobs from spilling out. "And if Mark's not happy?"

"That's up to you," Emily said resting a comforting hand on Brooke's crooked back. "Then you can try again or give up."

"Why can't you just tell me what to do?" Brooke begged while straightening her body and turning to Emily. "Wouldn't that be easier? It's not like I could deny you anyway."

"That's not how this works," Emily answered. "You have to show Mr. Griffin how far you're willing to go. I could tell you what to do, but there's no guarantee Mr. Griffin will be okay with it."

"Whatever," Brooke said stepping away from Emily. "He's just fucking with me. That's all."

"Frankly, it doesn't matter," Emily responded following after Brooke. Emily wrapped her arm firmly around Brooke's shoulders. "Mr. Griffin doesn't worry himself about whether or not people approve of his methods. If he believes it's the right thing to do, that's all that matters to him."

Brooke opened her mouth to protest but realized she had nothing to say.

"Buzz, Buzz," The grinding doorbell sounded off. It was still fifteen minutes before the party was to begin, but someone was already requesting entrance.

Emily smiled and let go of Brooke. "It sounds like your first guest is here. It's show time."

Brooke's throat tightened; her bare feet felt heavy against the shag carpet. She forced herself to walk out of the living room toward the front door. She reminded herself that this would all be over in a few hours and that Janice's comeuppance was still to come. Brooke intended to keep Janice in mind as she fought through her humiliation.

Brooke looked through the peephole and was surprised to see Thomas Riley. He was a quiet, skinny guy who wanted to be a college professor but couldn't quite cut it. He settled instead for teaching grade school English. During their time teaching together, she hardly said ten words to him. In addition to being socially awkward, he was in his upper forties and didn't have anything at all in common with the younger teachers. Yet here he was at the front door.

"Hi, Thomas," Brooke said forcing a smile. She tried to hide behind the door as much as possible. Even though she wasn't naked, she didn't want any of her neighbors seeing her dressed like this. Having Thomas see this outfit was degrading enough.

"Uh, hi," Thomas returned. Perhaps thrown off by Brooke's wardrobe, the forty-something teacher couldn't make eye contact. Instead, he just stepped past his host and made his way to the living room.

Brooke followed behind Thomas and sat quietly on the sofa beside Emily. Neither woman made any attempt to talk with the older man who was fiddling with his phone on the recliner.

After almost ten minutes of awkward silence, the doorbell buzzed once again. Brooke was happy to get out of the living room even if that meant more participants for her upcoming exhibition.

Brooke let Jessica and Tamara, two ladies who started teaching the same year as Brooke, into her house. Jessica offered Brooke an off-handed compliment about how cute her bodysuit would look with a nice pair of jeans. Rather than responding to the slam, Brooke led the ladies into her living room and set them down beside Thomas. She never cared for Jessica or Tamara but had to remain a cordial host nonetheless.

Bobby Jones and Marino Garcon, both veteran teachers in their late thirties, harkened impatiently at the front door. After the requisite pleasantries, they followed behind Brooke to the living room; the two guys made no secret of checking out her velvet bodysuit's rear view. As quickly as possible, Brooke offered the guys a seat and moved on. While exiting the living room, she still felt Marino's gaze tracking her slightly exposed ass.

As the guests continued to funnel into Brooke's house, she passed out drinks and hors d'oeuvres. The gathering forced together diverse personalities never intended to associate outside the schoolhouse. Even though the invitees were all teachers, hardly anyone mingled or chatted.

Over the next hour, another ten guests joined Brooke's party. Philip and Jeff, a couple of guys who had worked with Brooke at her first school, brought two of their friends who weren't invited to the party or even teachers. Susan and Jenny were recent college graduates who had worked with Brooke only a few months in her final teaching job. Meg and Tracy were about the same age as Brooke even though she hardly remembered them from her second teaching position. Seth, who knew Brooke from two of her jobs, was probably the only guest she would actually consider a friend. Unfortunately for Brooke, he brought his new fiancé, Jill, who insisted on accompanying him to the event.

About thirty minutes after the designated starting time and once most of her RSVP's were accounted for, Brooke assumed her audience was officially assembled. She excused herself momentarily and headed to her bedroom. She had to get her bag of accessories, but, more so, she wanted to minute to collect herself before beginning the toughest part of her evening.

Brooke sat on her bed and looked through her props and toys. Even after all her preparation, she wasn't sure she could go through with her plan. Brooke lay back on the queen-sized bed and rested her eyes. Through her bedroom door, she could hear her guests starting to socialize. As the group got to know each other and as alcohol served its purpose, the evening's initial awkwardness faded away. Her invitees were enjoying themselves, and for some reason, this bothered Brooke. The idea of her co-workers cooperatively joining forces to humiliate her was more than she could stomach. She lost track of time and would have drifted off to sleep if not for a polite knock on her bedroom door.

"Brooke," Emily whispered into the closed bedroom. "Are you okay? May I come in?"

Startled, Brooke sat up in her bed. She wasn't sure how long she'd been there. "Sure, Emily. Come on in."

Emily quietly entered Brooke's bedroom and shut the door behind her. She sat on the bed next to Brooke and wrapped her arm around Brooke's shoulder. "Everything's going to be all right," Emily insisted. "Are you nervous?"

"Nervous?" Brooke responded. "Fuck nervous. I'm not doing this. Janice can go on screwing up my life. It can't be worse than this."

"You don't mean that," Emily consoled. She methodically turned around on Brooke's bed and looked at the trove of dildos, handcuffs, and other sexual devices. "Was all this for tonight?"

"It was," Brooke answered. "Not that it matters now."

"It does matter," Emily insisted. "You suck it up for the next few hours then you'll be free of Janice's bullshit forever. She'll finally get what's coming to her, and you'll have a new job working for Mr. Griffin."

"But I don't..."

"Get over it," Emily interrupted. "Don't forget everything Mr. Griffin suffered through in college. I played a part in his humiliation, and so did you. We put him through a hell of a lot more than what you're doing tonight. As far as I see it, you're getting off easy."

"That's true," Brooke conceded. "But I still don't know if I can do this. I just can't."

"No more negativity," Emily demanded. She stood to her feet with her hands on Brooke's shoulders. She offered a final word of encouragement. "You know what you have to do. I'll be by your side the whole way, but you have to do this. Just remember that your punishment is nothing compared to what Mr. Griffin has planned for Janice."

"That would be so sweet," Brooke responded. "I would so love to see that bitch pay for everything she put my family through."

"Good, then," Emily said. She grabbed Brooke's hands and pulled the former school teacher to her feet. "Use that anger, and get out there. Let's get this over with."

Chapter Four

"All right, everyone," Emily said to the group as she reentered the living room, Brooke in tow. "We have some activities planned for your entertainment. Gather 'round so we can get started."
Brooke's guests claimed seats on her couch, recliners, and on the living room floor. While none of the invitees knew what was going to happen, the consensus was that they were in for an entertaining evening.

"That was fast," Emily said. "Is everyone ready to have some fun?"

The group applauded tentatively. Seth, Brooke's only friend in the group, cheered the loudest until Jill, his fiancée, shot him a dirty look.

"All right, then," Emily said turning toward the gathering's host. "Brooke has something to say. Let's give her our attention."

Brooke clung to Emily's hand with as much strength as her fingers could muster. Her toes started to tingle, and she lost feeling in her legs. Her stomach muscles cramped as if she was about to throw up. Her mouth went dry; breathing was painful.

"It's okay, Brooke," Emily encouraged. "Go ahead, and tell them."

Brooke still couldn't speak; she stood frozen and silent in front of her former workmates. She wanted to say something, anything, but the words refused to exit her mouth. Brooke felt sweat saturating her bodysuit and running down her face. She gazed at the floor in shame as if already exposed to the anxious gathering.

Emily wrapped her arm around Brooke and whispered a word of encouragement. "It's okay. I think I know how to lighten the mood some."

Keeping a supportive arm around Brooke's lower back, Emily turned to the group and made her announcement. "As you all know, Emily is retiring from teaching. She has a new and exciting job waiting for her, and she wants to celebrate the occasion."

"Congratulations, Brooke," Seth said. "What's the new job?"

"She can't talk about that right now," Emily interjected. "What she can do is put on a little show for us." Emily pinched a fold of velvet from Brooke's sleeve. "Do any of you want to see what Brooke looks like without this thing?"

The group murmured to each other chaotically as its members attempted to ascertain whether Emily's offer was legitimate. Bobby whistled through two fingers while his friend Marino tried unsuccessfully to start a "strip, strip, strip" chant.

"I'll take that as a yes," Emily said. "That's good because she's definitely going to strip naked for us. In fact, she's going to put on a full-fledged sex show."

The audience looked around at each other not sure how to react. The excitement was palpable; several of the guys were already adjusting their pants as the girls fired looks of condemnation back and forth. Since Brooke was a colleague of theirs and even a former teacher herself, there was a lingering yet unexpressed concern about how appropriate such an activity might be.

Emily motioned downward with both hands attempting to quiet the group. As the noise diminished, she continued her announcement. "Before she gets naked, we're going to need something from each of you."

"I knew there was a catch," Jill added from the audience. Despite Seth's silence, she shot her fiancé another evil look.

"You can leave right now if you want to," Emily snapped at Jill with an equally sinister stare. "Judging by the bulge in your man's pants, he wants to stay."

Jill glanced down at Seth's crotch just as her fiancé moved his hands over his lap. "Really, Seth?" Jill scolded. "Really?"

"Let's keep this moving," Emily insisted. "I need everyone to go to the kitchen and strip down to your underwear. Leave your clothes, along with your keys and cell phones, on the table. You can pick up your stuff before you leave."

Brooke couldn't believe her ears. Granted, Emily was only making their guests disrobe to their underwear, but that was more than Brooke would have ever demanded. As much as she still worried about getting naked in front of her co-workers, she was grateful that her audience would also have some literal skin in the game themselves.

"You want us to strip?" Susan, one of the group's younger members, questioned.

"That doesn't sound fair," Tamara, Susan's friend, added.

"If you're not comfortable showing off your underwear, then you're free to leave now," Emily returned. "Nobody's making you do anything."

The room sat silently as everyone waited to see who would make the first move. It was as if no one wanted to be the only one to begin shedding clothing. At the same time, none of the guests were leaving.

"Let's get going," Emily chided swaying her hands toward the kitchen. "If you're playing our game, go get ready. If you're not playing, then get going. Either way, it's time to move."

Marino and Bobby shot up off the couch and headed toward the kitchen. No one in the group expected that the two guys would miss an opportunity to see Emily get naked and put on a sex show even if the price of admission was stripping down to their own underwear.

"What do you think?" Susan asked her friend, Jenny.

"I guess it won't hurt," Jenny responded while standing to her feet. "We can always leave if things get too weird."

"Well?" Seth asked Jill. "Should we stay?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Jill returned. "I guess I didn't realize I was marrying such a fucking pervert."

"We can go if you want," Seth conceded.

"No way," Jill answered. She stood up and started pulling Seth toward the kitchen. "I'm not letting you blame me for missing this. Besides, you'd probably sneak back here later anyway."

To Brooke's surprise, all of her former colleagues decided to stay despite having to surrender most of their clothes to do so. Ironically, once the group finished stripping down to their underwear, she, along with Emily, would be the most modestly dressed people in the room. Of course, Brooke knew all too well that her velvet body suit would soon decorate the living room floor.

Brooke tried not to stare are her semi-naked guests as they made their way back into her living room. She did take the liberty of smiling briefly at Marino, who was doing his best to cover the erection bulging through his blue silk underwear. Considering how he had made a public display of checking out her ass, it was both strange and rewarding to see him acting so shy.

Brooke was surprised at how somber everyone was. No one from the group was checking out the other semi-dressed teaching professionals. Instead, everyone kept their eyes on the carpet or walls waiting for Brooke's promised show to begin.

"Let's all take a seat," Emily said to the group before turning back to Brooke. "It's all yours," she continued while motioning to the designated star of the evening's performance.

Brooke looked around the room as her co-workers slowly lifted their gaze toward her. "Oh," Brooke said suddenly realizing she didn't have her bag of accessories. "Sorry everyone. I'll be right back."

Brooke ran out of the living room and down the hall to her bedroom. In addition to gathering her bag of supplies, this gave her one final chance to catch her breath and to convince herself to go through with her planned activities.

After just a couple of seconds, Brooke heard grumblings from the living room. She figured the group wasn't pleased about her running out after promising to strip for them. She had a hard time feeling remorse considering what she was planning. Her coworkers would get everything they bargained for and then some.

Brooke quickly gathered the props and accessories into her bag and forced herself to head back into the living room. As she walked down the short hallway, she once again reconsidered her plan for the night.

Considering how quickly the group stripped to their underwear, Brooke wondered what else she could make them do. She still intended to put on a show for her guests. Only now, she figured to make her co-workers earn the performance. If nothing else, their participation might make her planned exhibition a little easier.

"It's about time," Marino said as Brooke stepped back into the living room.

"Sounds like I have my first volunteer," Brooke said even though she was still reformulating her plan.

"Volunteer?" Marino snapped. "You're a big fucking tease. Aren't you? I thought you were going to strip or something."

"I'm not going to strip just yet," Brooke answered with a smile as she started digging through her bag. "I have a better idea."

"You have a better idea, do you?" Marino returned. "Of course, you would change your mind after making us take off our clothes."

"I do have a better idea," Brooke repeated. She pulled a pair of scissors out of her bag and waved them in the air. "I was thinking that I might have one of you cut my clothes off."

"Now we're talking," Marino answered fidgeting in his seat uncomfortably. "You want me to volunteer...for that?"

"I do," Brooke answered confidently motioning for Marino to join her. "Come on up here."

Marino made a final adjustment to his silk underwear before standing to his feet. He kept one hand over his bulge as he approached Brooke and reached for the scissors. Just as he was about to grab the cutting instrument, Brooke pulled them out of his reach.

"Actually," Brooke said. "There's one more thing we have to do first."

"This is bullshit," Marino said. He backpedaled away from Brooke. "What now?"

"You may leave if you want," Brooke said. "In fact, any of you may go home."

"Well," Marino responded in a more open tone. "Are you seriously going to do this or not?"

"Do what?" Brooke asked with even more confidence than before. "You mean am I really going to get naked?"

"Yeah," Marino responded shrugging his shoulders. "It's only fair."

"Fair?" Brooke returned sarcastically. "I'll show you fair." The twenty-eight-year-old blonde stepped over to the coffee table and dumped her bag of dildos, vibrators, handcuffs, and other accessories on the table. "I bought all this shit for tonight. You're going to see a show like you've never seen before, but you're going to do so by my rules."

Marino along with the rest of the group stared blankly at the pile of sex toys.

"Now," Brooke continued. "If any of you want to leave, do so right now. Otherwise, you're going to stay here and play my game until we're done. No more whining. No more bitching."

The stunned group of teachers looked back and forth between Brooke and her stock of adult novelties; the room remained silent.

"Emily," Brooke said. "Can you do me a favor?"

"I sure can," Emily answered with a smile. "Whatever you want."

"Could you go to the kitchen and lock everyone's clothes in the pantry? You'll find the key on the top shelf."

"No problem," Emily responded grinning ear-to-ear. She rushed out of the room allowing Brooke to continue with the show.

"If anyone wants their clothes, go get them now," Brooke announced. "You can get dressed and leave the party. Otherwise, you'll wait until my game is over."

None of Brooke's co-workers offered any sort of affirmation or objection; instead, they sat quietly waiting for whatever Brooke had planned next.

"What about you?" Brooke asked Marino. "Are you in, or are you taking your tiny dick home?"

"Whatever," Mario responded. "I'm in... Whatever."

"Great," Brooke said to Marino as she picked up a deck of cards from her pile of goodies. Originally, she was going to use the cards to determine who would get to humiliate her. Now Brooke was planning something different. "You do know how to play high card?" she asked Marino.

"I'm not stupid," Marino protested. "Of course, I do."

"Awesome," Brooke said handing Marino the deck. "Go ahead and shuffle the cards for me."

Marino started mixing the cards.

"Make sure you shuffle them well," Brooke warned Marino. "We're going to be drawing for our clothes."

"For our clothes?" Marino questioned with a panicked look in his eye.

"That's right," Brooke answered. "If you draw the high card, you get to cut my outfit off. If I pull the high card, I'll pick someone from the group to cut your underwear off."

"This is bullshit," Marino protested; he dropped several of the cards on the carpet, and reached down nervously to retrieve them. "You never said anything about this."

"You want to back out?" Brooke asked. "If so, you can leave right now."

"What's wrong?" Susan teased Marino. "You afraid we'll see how tiny your little prick is?"

"Come on, Marino," Bobby added hoping to encourage his best friend. "Just make sure you pick the high card."

After a few seconds of ribbing from the group, Marino agreed to play along with Brooke's game. He finished shuffling the cards and handed them back to Brooke, who split them one time before setting them on the coffee table.

"I guess it's time to play, then," Brooke said. "The ace is high regardless of suit. In the event of a tie, we'll draw again. Got it?"

"Whatever," Marino responded timidly. "I got it."

"You want to draw first?" Brooke asked Marino. "Or would you rather I go?"

"I'll go," Marino said as he nervously reached down to the deck and chose the top card. Marino wrapped the card in his hand so the crowd wouldn't be able to see it before he could check it out. "Perfect," Marino said holding his ace of clubs in the air.

The reality of what was about to happen walloped Brooke as she saw Marino dancing around the room celebrating his ace. One way or another, she was going to end up naked in front of her coworkers. The idea that Marino would likely be the one to cut her body suit off only made the realization that much worse.

Without a word, Brooke reached down to the table and drew the next card from the deck. She never even saw the number on the card, just several hearts. She lost the first draw.

Everyone cheered when Brooke picked up the losing card, but no one celebrated more than Marino. "That's what I'm talking about," Marino shouted holding his hands in the air as if he just scored a touchdown. "Now hand over those scissors."

Brooke graciously extended the scissors to Marino. As he took the cutting instrument from her, the twenty-eight-year-old blonde lifted her arms in the air so as to provide Marino full access to her body. Not wanting to watch the group drinking in her humiliation, she closed her eyes.

Brooke felt the back of the cold scissor blade against her thigh as Marino prepared to make the first cut. She could feel the peaks of Marino's knuckles purposely grazing her pussy as he severed the garment. The blades slid through the velvet body suit and up Brooke's stomach. She felt the material begin to separate from her abdomen.

Marino's hands' practically cupped Brooke's left tit as he continued to cut upwards toward the suit's neckline. She thought about complaining but knew her protests would only make matters worse.

As the blades cut past Brooke's chest, she could feel her tit slip out from behind the fabric. She pressed her eyelids into her cheeks and tried to ignore the group's cheers as they celebrated her exposed nipple.

Rather than immediately cutting the seam around Brooke's neck and letting the garment fall to the floor, Marino began the second incision up the other side of her body. The second cut afforded him another opportunity to feel up her tits and pussy, a maneuver that was not lost on her or the audience.

As with the first incision, Marino left the neck seam whole. Again, Brooke thought about complaining but decided against it. She just stood in front of her former colleagues with both tits exposed and only a small sliver of velvet concealing her shaved pussy.

After giving everyone a few seconds to take in Brooke's shredded outfit, Marino continued his task. He reached a finger between Brooke's legs separating the velvet from her vagina. Brooke could feel Mark's knuckle almost penetrating her lips as he cut open the bottom of her body suit. With a fateful "snip," the shreds of her outfit hung ineffectually from her neck.

With two final cuts, Marino severed the neck seams and let the entirety of Brooke's outfit fall to the floor. She stood naked in front of the group with her eyes closed as tightly as her eyelids would permit. She played back how she had met every single person in the room and how she had taught with them day in and day out. During the previous decade, she worked to establish a professional rapport with her co-workers; all of that was gone now. From this point on, they would only remember her as the naked woman standing before them in her living room.

Brooke forced herself to breathe as she fought off a panic attack. She felt like the room was spinning around her, and she couldn't open her eyes. Her body shivered both from terror and from a previously unnoticed chill in the air. She failed to realize that her arms were still extended over her head offering everyone in the room an uninhibited view of her exposed body.

Finally, Brooke opened her eyes and scanned the group. She first noticed Marino standing in front of her with a wide grin. Ignoring the erection tenting his silk underwear, Marino slapped the scissor handles against his open palm repeatedly as though he wanted to reinforce who was responsible for her exposed state. She hardly needed the reminder.

Except Marino, the group was mostly respectful of Brooke's embarrassment. Rather than gawking at the naked twenty-eight-year-old's tits and pussy, most of the audience members either focused on Brooke's eyes or diverted their gaze altogether. She was hardly naïve enough to believe her co-workers weren't checking her out, but she was grateful they were at least subtle about it.

"What's next?" Emily asked as she stepped up to Brooke and put an arm around the naked exhibitionist.

"Oh," Brooke responded as she snapped out of her trance. "Sorry."

"No problem," Emily said. "What should we do next?"

"I'm glad you asked," Brooke answered doing her best to keep a brave face. "What's next is that we're going to finish our game, but I need your help to get ready."

"I'm here to help," Emily assured. "What can I do?"

"To start with, you can grab those handcuffs." Brooke pointed to a pair leather straps conjoined by a thick metal chain. The wrist straps were lined with gray fur for comfort, but the constraints were stable. Once cuffed around her wrists, she wouldn't be able to escape on her own.

Brooke extended her arms in front of her chest awaiting her bonds.

"That's what I'm talking about," Emily said as she grabbed the leather cuffs from the coffee table. Emily quickly strapped the bonds around Brooke's wrists. "Now what?" Emily asked.

"Now grab the stepladder from the hall closet," Brooke answered. "You'll need it to chain my hands to that hook." Brooke pointed to a metal loop screwed into her ceiling.

"Holy shit," Marino added as Emily retrieved the ladder. "She's chaining you to the ceiling?"

"That's right," Brooke responded nervously. "You might even get to have some fun with me."

"Fun?" Marino asked. "Like what?"

"After my hands are chained to the ceiling," Brooke answered. "You're going to draw another card. If you get the high card again, you'll get three minutes to do whatever you want with me."

"Three minutes?" Marino responded with a smile. His already large bulge extended another inch through his underwear. "I can do whatever I want?"

"Well, you can't have sex with me," Brooke clarified. "And you can't permanently injure me. Other than that, I'm all yours."

"Wait," Marino said. "What if I don't draw the high card? What then?"

"Then you'll choose someone to cut your underwear off," Brooke said. "You'll have to spend the rest of the night naked with your hands cuffed behind your back."

"Whatever," Marino said. "Like hell, I will."

"That's your choice," Emily said. "Only five people are going to get this chance. If you want to pass, that's up to you. You can either draw yourself, or you can choose someone else and sit back down."

"But if I draw the high card, I get three minutes to do whatever I want to you?" Marino asked.

"That's right," answered Brooke. "You can draw for a chance at three minutes with me, or you can pass."
"Who are you kidding?" Emily stage whispered as she set up the stepladder next to Brooke. "There's no way he's passing on a chance for three minutes in heaven."

Emily grabbed a chain from the table and climbed up the stepladder. Brooke lifted her hands and let Emily hook the chain to the leather cuffs on one end and to the ceiling loop on the other. Emily raised Brooke's hands as high as they could reach.

"How's that feel?" Emily asked Brooke. "Is it too tight?"

"It's a bit tight," Brooke said. "Could you maybe loosen it some?"

Ignoring Brooke's request, Emily stepped down the ladder and grabbed a spreader bar from the table. "Are these next?" Emily asked about the three-foot long pole with leather ankle cuffs on each end.

"Yes," Brooke said. "Those are for..."

"Spread your legs," Emily interrupted as she knelt in front of Brooke.

Brooke spread her legs as instructed. She felt more exposed than before as her open legs left her pussy in full view.

Emily strapped Brooke's right ankle to the bar then spread Brooke's legs even farther apart. Within a few seconds, the spreader bar was in place preventing Brooke from pulling her legs back together. Brooke's shaved lips would be on display from this point until her evening was over.

With her legs spread, tension from wrist cuffs increased pulling Brooke's arms upward toward the ceiling. She could hardly bend her torso and had to stand on her tiptoes. She tried not to think about how she found herself in such a position, bound and naked in her own living room surrounded by former co-workers.

"Are we all ready?" Emily asked Brooke. "Do you want us to draw the next cards?"

"Sure," Brooke replied. "Just so we're clear. Five of you will get the chance to draw for time with me. During your time, you can use any of the toys on the table. You will free to do as you wish as long as you don't have actual sex with me or permanently injure me in any way."

"We got it," Marino answered for the room.

"What do you mean five of us?" Seth asked. "How will you pick the five?"

"You would like that," Seth's fiancé scolded. "Wouldn't you?"

"If Marino doesn't pussy out," Brooke answered with a chuckle. "He'll be the first. Each player will decide who draws next. We'll just keep going until five of you get a turn."

"Does everyone have to strip if they lose?" Marino asked. "Or is that just me."

"No," Brooke insisted. "Same rules for everyone. You either get three minutes with me, or you spend the rest of the night wearing nothing but handcuffs." Brooke paused a moment before continuing. "Come on everyone. I'm chained to the ceiling with my fucking tits and pussy on display. Is it really that big of a deal if you have to hide in a corner without your clothes?"

No one responded.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Brooke continued. "Emily, could you take it from here? I'll need you to draw for me. Okay?"

"I would love to," Emily said as she picked the deck from the coffee table and started reshuffling the cards. "Marino, are you ready?"

Chapter Five

"Why do I have to draw again?" Marino asked. "I already pulled the high card."

"You want to pass?" Emily asked. "If you want your three minutes with Brooke, you have to draw a card."

"But I already..."

"What?" Emily interrupted Marino and shoved the deck in his face. "Are you afraid? Pick a fucking card already."

Marino scowled; he looked around the room anxiously. "Whatever," he relented as he cut the deck and set it on the coffee table. "I'll pick a card, but you go first this time."

"That's fair," Emily conceded. She reached down confidently and chose a card on Brooke's behalf. "Oh," Emily blustered. She held the card up for the group. "Three of clubs."

Marino smiled widely. "That's not a great card. Is it?" The lanky high school teacher leaned down to the coffee table and selected the next card. His face radiated disappointment. "Three of hearts," Marino mumbled. "It's a tie."

"Then we draw again," Emily said as she retrieved the deck's next offering. "That's more like it," Emily rejoiced waiving her king of spades in the air.

"This is such bullshit," Marino scoffed as he made his next draw. He cupped the card carefully as he lifted it to his eyes. "Fuck me," Marino said. He dropped to his knees slamming his forehead into his cupped hands. "Fuck me."

Emily snatched the card from Marino's hand. "Four of hearts," she laughed. "Marino, it's just not your lucky day. Is it?"

"Come on," Marino argued again. "I already had to draw once, and I won. Why do I have to draw again?"

"Now, now," Emily returned. She grabbed Marino's hand and helped him back to his feet. "You wouldn't be backing out if you won. Would you? You lost fair and square. Now you have to pay up."

"I have to take these off?" Marino asked hooking his thumbs into the front of his blue silk underwear.

"No," Emily said as she grabbed a pair of handcuffs and the scissors from the table. "You get to choose someone from the group to do that for you. Who's it gonna be?"

"Can't I just take them off?" Marino begged while holding his package with both hands.

"Sorry," Emily said. "Now go ahead and pick someone. Who's gonna cut off your man panties?"

"Not funny," Marino complained. He scanned the room filled with teachers, none of whom were making any sort of eye contact. "Any volunteers?"

No one stepped up.

"Just pick someone," Emily demanded. "We don't have all night."

Still cupping both hands over his dick, Marino took one more look around the room.

"Don't you dare," Marino's friend Bobby ordered.

"Not happening," Jill snapped at Marino as his eyes passed by her and Seth. Jill grabbed Seth's hand as if to say the two of them were off limits.

"Pick someone," Emily insisted again. "Just pick someone already."

"You," Marino said looking directly at Jenny. "I choose you."

"Me?" Jenny snapped. "You don't even know me. I'm what, like twenty years younger than you?"

"I have to choose someone," Marino responded. "I choose you, and I'm not twenty years older than you. Not even close."

"Yeah," Jenny's friend Susan replied with a chuckle. "More like thirty years older."

"Come on up here, Jenny," Emily said to the recent teaching graduate. Emily took Jenny's hand and led the brunette to the front of the room.

Jenny took a minute to adjust her green silk bra and matching panties. It wasn't obvious whether she was more worried about losing her own underwear or having to cut Marino's off for him. "What should I do now?"

"First things first," Emily explained. "Cuff Marino's hands behind his back. Then take these scissors and cut his underwear off."

"This is so gross," Jenny insisted staring at Marino's silk underwear.

"Like you're some kind of movie star," Marino retorted. "Better enjoy it while you can. You might be next."

"You're in no place to criticize how I look," Jenny snapped. She grabbed the handcuffs from Emily. "Put your hands behind your back."

"Behind my back?" Marino complained.

"Shut the fuck up," Jenny said as she grabbed one of Marino's arms and pulled it around his body. She slapped the handcuff around his wrist with the proficiency of a television detective then snatched his free hand. "That should do it," Jenny said tightening the cuffs.

"You know what to do now," Emily said as she passed Jenny the scissors. "I think we're all about ready to bid farewell to those panties anyway."

"Just shut the fuck up," Marino snapped at Emily. "Can we get this over with already?"

"Get this over with?" Jenny said jumping back into the conversation. "You took your time with Brooke. Didn't you? Why are you in such a hurry all of a sudden?"

"Stupid bitch," Marino jabbed back at Jenny.

Jenny stepped face to face with Marino; she grabbed the center hem of his underwear and pulled his body close to hers. "You shouldn't talk that way to any woman, let alone one with scissors."

"I'm...I'm sorry," Marino muttered.

"Too late now," Jenny whispered back.

"But..."

"Too late," Jenny grumbled placing her finger over Marino's mouth. "Keep it shut, and I might not accidentally cut off your tiny prick."

Jenny took a knee in front of Marino. She ran her finger up his thigh and under the garment's hem. She slid her finger between his legs before pulling the underwear's bottom down a few inches and letting it snap back into his balls. As the blue material dragged down his body, a thick patch of black hair protruded beyond the waistband.

"Looks like someone needs a trim," Jenny joked as she pulled the front of Marino's underwear out and peeked inside.

Jenny took the scissors and cut a slit down the front of Marino's underwear. When she released the fabric, Mark's penis shot out of its silk housing and into the open air.

Marino closed his eyes trying to ignore the snickering as his dick made its first appearance. With his hands cuffed firmly behind his back, there was nothing he could do to hide his embarrassment. "Why don't you make yourself useful down there," he joked at Jenny's expense.

Without a word, Jenny grabbed Marino's cuffed hands and spun his body around. She then lifted his arms up over his back until Marino was forced to lean forward. "Stay there," Jenny ordered. "Just like that."

Marino fought to hold the crooked position while Jenny continued with her second round of incisions.

Jenny pulled the rear of Marino's underwear from his ass and jabbed the scissor blade through the thin material. She proceeded to cut a circle in the material leaving his right butt cheek exposed. After cutting a matching sphere for his other cheek, she stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Marino's expression turned white as a sheet as he stood in front of his friends and coworkers. His cock poked out one side of his underwear as his ass cheeks protruding from the other.

"Don't have much to say now," Jenny prodded. "Do you?"

"I'm sorry," Marino begged. "I didn't mean to...I was just..."

"Save it," Jenny said. "Let's finish this up so you can go curl up in the corner."

"I really am..."

"I said save it," Jenny insisted. She pulled Marino's underwear away from his body then wrapped the scissor blades around what was left of the silk briefs. Without warning, she made the final cut and let the shredded garment fall to the floor.

Marino's head dropped downward in unison with his underwear. As soon as the silk hit the shag carpet, he crept to the room's corner and slid his back down the wall. He sat there quietly using his legs to cover his dick and balls as best he could.

"What now?" Jenny asked. "Am I done?"

"No," Emily said. "You're not done. You draw next."

Jenny's expression turned from ecstasy to panic when she realized she had to choose the next card. "Oh, shit."

"Go ahead and cut the cards," Emily said as she finished shuffling the deck.

Jenny did as Emily instructed. "You go first," she insisted.

Emily drew her card and studied it carefully. "Seven of diamonds," she said.

Jenny stood silently in deep reflection as if she was calculating the exact odds of beating Emily's draw. Then, with almost a snapping motion, she grabbed the next card on the deck.

Even without Jenny saying a word, it was evident that she bested Emily's seven. After a few seconds of quiet thanks, Jenny turned the card to the crowd and showed off her eight of hearts.

"Good for you," Emily said looking at her watch. "You get three minutes with Brooke starting right now."

"Already?" Jenny asked in a panic. "I don't get time to prepare?"

"The clock's ticking," Emily assured. "Better get moving."

Jenny brushed her brunette hair over her shoulder and stepped anxiously toward Brooke. She pressed their bodies together allowing her green silk bra to clash with the blonde's bare chest. She brushed her left hand through Brooke's straight hair and wrapped her right arm around the restrained body. Jenny cupped her fingers between Brooke's legs allowing her fingertips to make initial contact with the blonde's wet pussy lips.

With a jerk, Jenny dug her hand into Brooke's ass lifting her feet, along with the spreader bar, slightly off the ground. After letting Brooke fall to back to the floor, Jenny grabbed a wad of blonde hair yanking it backward then planted a wet kiss on Brooke's neck.

Brooke's body convulsed with both discomfort and ecstasy as the younger teacher sawed her fingers into her ass and sucked her naked tits. Brooke wanted to protest the rough treatment but knew better. She thought about her coworkers sitting around the living room ogling over her first ever girl-on-girl encounter.

"You like that?" Jenny asked in response to Brooke's heavy yet stuttered breathing before snapping the blonde hair backward again. "Maybe we need to switch things up. Whadda ya think?"

Brooke didn't answer. She opted instead to catch her breath as Jenny perused the coffee table for her next activity. If Brooke could go back in time and start the evening over, she would back out of her deal altogether. She would tell Mark and Emily to go fuck themselves. Unfortunately, Brooke couldn't go back. This was her reality, stripped naked and tied to her ceiling. She had no choice but to endure and succumb to her former coworker's darker instincts.

"No," Brooke finally said as she saw Jenny returning with a pair of nipple clamps. Brooke couldn't even rationalize why she purchased such devices in the first place. "Not those," she pleaded. "Jenny, don't. Please don't."

With a shrug, Jenny responded to Brooke's plea for mercy. "I thought you said I could do whatever I wanted? Didn't you?"

"I did," Brooke answered in defeat. Her body burned in both pain and ecstasy. Sticky cum dripped down the inside of her thighs. "Whatever you want."

Jenny held a clamp in each hand as she approached Brooke's naked body. The clamps looked like small jumper cable vices connected by a metal beaded chain. The brunette squeezed and released the handles allowing the clamps to open and close in her subject's face. "Better brace yourself," she taunted. "This is gonna hurt."

Brooke's shoulders burned from the cuffs and chains connected above her; her toes cramped in response to pushing her body upward. The competing strain only heightened her excitement as her pussy pulsated, dripped, and quivered. She clenched her eyelids as Jenny pressed the first open clamp around her nipple. The springs performed their function pinching the exposed flesh and transmitting a stinging pain through Brooke's body.

Just as the shooting sensation started to numb, Jenny snapped the other clamp to Brooke's opposite nipple.

"One minute," Emily interjected warning Jenny that her allotted time was coming to an end.

"This is crazy," Seth said jumping up from his chair. "You're hurting her."

"Looks like you have a hero," Jenny said to Brooke.

"Brooke," Seth continued positioning himself between the two ladies. "Are you okay?"

"It's okay, Seth," Brooke insisted through watered eyes. "I'm fine. Just take your seat."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Seth did as Brooke requested. He made his way back to his chair and to his pissed off fiancé.

"You two should get a room after this," Jill scolded sarcastically.

Realizing her time was waning, Jenny circled behind Brooke wrapping her arms around the blonde's exposed body. She cupped her hands over Brooke's tits and around the nipple clamps. Jenny squeezed and groped the blonde's breast while kissing and sucking on the side of her neck.

"Fifteen seconds," Emily offered.

Jenny let her right hand drop down to Brookes slit and gently rubbed her pulsing clitoris. Again, Brooke's naked body convulsed. She leaned her head back resting it on Jenny's shoulder.

Brooke moaned and squealed as Jenny's hand rotated furiously. Forgetting the audience around them, Brooke pressed her body against Jenny and screwed her hips into the protruding fingers. "Ahhhhh," Brooke screamed as her cunt released its fluids yet again. "Oh, my God."

"Time," Emily said. "Time's up."

Jenny stepped back and watched gleefully as Brooke recomposed herself. "Too bad," Jenny scoffed. "She was just getting into it."

"The clamps?" Brooke said. "Can you take the clamps off?"

"Sorry," Jenny said with a smile and a wave. "My time's up."

Even though her nipples burned with pain, Brooke didn't argue her case. She knew the group was playing by her rules, and she had to suck it up. Besides, she just had what was by far the most intense orgasm of her life.

Emily gave everyone and especially Brooke a second to breathe before moving on with their game. She used the time to shuffle the deck of cards for the next player. After a few minutes, Emily asked Brooke if she was all right and wanted to keep going. Brooke assured Emily that she was ready to carry on.

"That's two down and three to go," Emily announced. "Jenny, you pick the next player."

Jenny, who was already back in her seat, looked around the room. "Any volunteers?" she asked. When no one offered to step up, she pointed to Philip, one of the other teachers at Brooke's first school. "Why don't you go next?"

"Me?" Philip asked. "You're kidding."

"I don't kid, Phil," Jenny replied.

"Philip. I go by Philip."

"Fine," Jenny scoffed in a faux sophisticate. "I don't kid around, Philip."

Philip was just a couple years older than Brooke with dark hair and a decent, if not aging, body. During their brief time together, he had never really socialized with Brooke. They were cordial and professional, but never friendly. Next to Seth, Philip would have been Brooke's next choice of participants. He should at least be somewhat of a gentleman if he wins the draw.

"You're up," Emily said extending a hand toward the deck of cards. "Want to split the cards?"

"No," Philip responded in a monotone. "I'll just draw if that's okay." After lifting the top card from the stack, Philip showed his queen of diamonds to the group.

"That was easy," Emily said as she picked the next card, a two of spades. "And it looks like you won."

Unemotionally, Philip set his card down on the table and stepped toward Brooke. "Go now?" he asked looking back at Emily.

"Yeah," Emily said checking her watch for the time. "Go ahead. Three minutes."

"Can you take these off?" Brooke asked Philip hoping to get some relief from the stinging nipple clamps. "If you don't mind, that is."

"I don't think so," Philip responded calmly as he methodically inspected Brooke's exposed body. "I like them on."

Brooke was stunned by Philip's refusal. Had she misjudged her former co-teacher?

Philip circled around Brooke profiling her body as he considered his options. On his second lap around the naked twenty-eight-year-old, Philip stopped behind her. She worried about what he might be planning, but couldn't force herself to peek back at him.

After a few more seconds, Philip rushed to the table and picked up a leather paddle wrapped in pink ribbon and a large plastic dildo. Apparently aware of his time constraints, he returned to her backside and quickly swatted her with the paddle.

"Ow," Brooke snapped both from the pain of the smack and from surprise at Philip's frantic pace. "Shit, Phil."

"It's Philip," he responded before striking her once again, this time much harder.

"Ahhh...fuck," Brooke cried out.

For the next few seconds, Philip smacked Brooke's ass repeatedly as the blonde teacher writhed in pain. Finally, he dropped the paddle and circled around Brooke.

Just as Brooke began to relax from the spanking, Philip fell to his knees in front of her. He started licking her pussy rubbing his tongue generously over her exposed lips. His saliva mixed with her sticky cum and dripped down the inside of her legs.

"One minute," Emily said.

Philip looked back at Emily almost in disbelief. There was much more he wanted to do with his naked coworker, and he was running out of time.
Brooke looked down as Philip pulled his face away from her midsection and grabbed the loose dildo from the floor. Brooke knew what was coming next, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Philip gently pressed the tip of the purple device into Brooke's pussy lips and pumped gently until it fully penetrated her vagina.

"Thirty seconds," Emily warned.

Philip fluttered his tongue along Brooke's clit and started bobbing the dildo in and out of her vaginal canal. Brooke moaned; her fingers and toes clenched involuntarily, and she bit her lip. She was having yet another orgasm and, this time, she was all-too-aware of her ogling co-workers.

The group of teachers cheered and whistled as the naked blonde trembled and shuddered in her chains. Philip continued pumping vigorously feeding both Brooke's orgasm and the assembled spectators.

"Time's up," Emily said. "Sorry, Philip. Time's up."

Leaving the purple dildo inserted into Brooke's pussy, Philip fell to his ass; he used the back of his hand in an ill-fated attempt at wiping his sticky face dry.

Brooke fell limp letting the wrist cuffs and ceiling hook sustain her weight. She let her head hang low and kept her eyes closed tightly. She was exhausted and couldn't bear looking Philip or the other teachers in the eye.

"Very impressive, Philip," Emily congratulated. "Just pick someone to go next then you're done."

Philip struggled to his feet still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. He looked around the room at the other teachers, none of whom were making eye contact with him. "I can choose anyone?" he asked Emily.

"You may," Emily responded with a polite smile. "Those are the rules; aren't they?"

Philip looked at Brooke who still refused to lift her head then he looked back at Emily. "How did you say you know Brooke?" he asked Emily.

"Don't worry about that," Emily responded coldly. "Just focus on the task at hand. You need to pick our next participant then you're all done."

Philip smiled deviously. "Fine then," he added. "I choose you."

"What?" Emily gasped while stepping away from Philip. "You can't pick me. I'm not playing."

"You said I could choose anyone," Philip insisted. "Besides, why are you so much better than the rest of us? Why do you get to be the only one fully clothed?"

"That's just how it is," Emily said. "You all agreed to..."

Emily's phone vibrated from her jacket pocket.

"You're actually taking a phone call right now?" Philip complained as Emily answered her device.

"Yes, Mr. Griffin," Emily said into the smartphone. "Yes...I understand...Sure thing...Thank you, sir...Good night to you too."

"Are you done?" Philip asked.

"Sorry," Emily returned. "I guess I'll play the next hand. Will you draw for Brooke?"

"Sure," Philip said. He was apparently confused about Emily's sudden change of heart. "You wanna draw first?"

"All right," Emily answered nervously. She picked up the cards and shuffled them halfheartedly before letting Philip cut the deck. She then drew her card but offered no response to or assessment of her jack of hearts.

"Not bad," Philip said nervously. He drew a card on Brooke's behalf and looked at it. "Not bad, but also not good enough." He displayed his ace to the group who responded in unanimous approval. "I guess you need to pick someone to cut your clothes off," Philip said. "Those are the rules; aren't they?"

"Yeah," Emily answered despondently. While she didn't know anyone in the room, save Brooke, she hardly wanted to put on a strip show. She didn't take long at all to select Jill from the crowd. Emily figured that Jill would be more concerned about keeping her fiancé in check. Hopefully, she wouldn't prolong the act of shredding Emily's expensive blue skirt suit.

"Me?" Jill protested. "You have to be shitting me."

"Sorry," Emily answered in a professional tone despite her impending strip show. "You'll need to cut my clothes off. After that, you'll have to draw your own card. You'll be our game's final participant."

Jill looked over at her fiancé who was doing his best to remain devoid of reaction. "You just love this. Don't you?" she quipped.

"It'll be okay," Seth said. He rested his hand on his Jill's knee. "Just make sure to pick the high card."

"Just make sure to pick the winning card?" Jill echoed sarcastically. "That's your advice?"

"Sorry," Seth responded. "I'm just saying that it'll be all right."

Jill, who was wearing a white lace bra and panties, jumped to her feet and strutted over to Emily. "I think I'm going to enjoy this," Jill said with false bravado.

"As you wish," Emily answered calmly. She picked the scissors up from the coffee table and handed them to Jill.

"Don't forget your handcuffs," Jill said as she snapped the scissors from Emily's grip. Jill grabbed a pair of metal cuffs from the table while Emily positioned her wrists behind her back.

Jill made a point to lock the metal bands tightly over Emily's wrists. Despite her obvious discomfort, Emily didn't protest.

"What do you think?" Jill asked the group of teachers as she held the scissors in the air. "How 'bout we level the playing field."

Jill made the first cut into of Emily's suit jacket sleeve as the audience cheered and whistled. Emily closed her eyes and dropped her head. She was as pissed about losing her expensive suit as she was about being exposed to the group. Jill finished cutting the arm off Emily's jacket then sliced through the garment's collar. After repeating the process with the other sleeve, the expensive blue blazer fell to the floor.

Jill pulled the skirt waistband away from Emily's body and positioned the scissor blades between the skirt and the blue silk panties.

"Would you mind letting me just step out of the skirt?" Emily pleaded. "I'll need something to wear back home."

"Yeah," Jill said while cutting into Emily's skirt. "I do mind." As the skirt fell to the ground, Emily's white blouse draped over her lacy boyshort panties. "Wow," Jill exclaimed. She lifted the shirt tail above Emily's backside. "You have a great ass."

"Uhm, thanks," Emily answered timidly.

"My, my," Jill said feeling the fabric on Emily's blouse sleeve. "This must have been expensive."

"It was," Emily answered. "Not that you would know."

"Oh, really?" Jill answered. "I get it. You're better than me? You make more money than I do?"

"No," Emily answered politely yet dishonestly. "I didn't mean it that way. Really, I didn't."

"Whatever," Jill said before cutting into the shirt's tail. "It's not worth much now either way." She then sliced a long incision up the back of the blouse and through the collar.

Emily stood silently as Jill cut down each of the sleeves and let her shirt fall to the floor.

Jill surveyed the blonde's silk panties and nude cotton bra. "Better stand still," She said as she pulled the front of Emily's brassiere forward separating the cups from their respective tits. She slipped a hand between the bra and Emily's right breast. She carefully cut a nearly perfect circle around the cup's center then made a matching hole in the other bra cup.

"That's a great look," Jill scoffed as she let the bra spring back over Emily's tits. The tattered undergarment left Emily's nipples protruding from the new holes. Jill rubbed Emily's right nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

Emily pulled her tit away from Jill's exploring fingers. "That's not part of the deal. You can cut my clothes off. That's it."

"Someone's a poor sport," Jill replied as she took a knee on the floor.

Jill dug her hand under the front leg of Emily's panties. She gripped her fingers around the crotch material and through the other leg hole. She held the bottom front of the boyshorts in a fist directly over Emily's pussy then jerked the panties upward violently. The silk undergarment drove a wedge deep into Emily's lips.

"Hold still," Jill insisted as she slid the scissors around the taut material between her fingers and Emily's pussy. "I don't want to cut you." She made a quick incision allowing the bottom of Emily's underwear to fall freely between her legs.

Jill stepped back to inspect her handiwork as the group nodded and clapped in approval. They appeared to appreciate the rough treatment against the one person who hadn't stripped naked at the beginning of their game.

Emily stood quietly with her head down. Her nipples shot through the holes in her bra; her underwear wrapped around her waist but provided essentially no coverage for her pussy and trimmed bush. "Please," Emily begged Jill. "Can we just get this over with already?"

"Sure," Jill answered with false condolence. "Why not?"

Jill circled behind Emily and pulled Emily's nude bra strap back violently. Emily stumbled to keep her footing but managed to avoid falling to the floor. After a smartass chuckle, Jill cut the bra strap springing Emily forward a couple steps. Jill then pulled Emily's underwear waist and repeated the process.

"There you go," Jill said. "Just as you requested. You're completely fucking naked."

"Come on you two," Brooke interjected still hanging from the ceiling with nipple clamps on her tits and a dildo jammed up her pussy. "Let's keep this moving. Jill, you're up."

"Better hope you draw the high card," Emily threatened Jill. "Otherwise, you'll be the next one naked."

"Don't worry," Jill said. "I always come out on top."

"Then quit talking and pick a card already," Emily returned straightening her body as much as she could.

Jill stepped up to the unshuffled card deck and selected the first card. After a quick glance, she praised her draw. "King of diamonds. Not too bad."

Emily backed up to the coffee table and knelt down toward the deck. She struggled to grab a card and flip it over on the wood surface.

"Too bad," Jill said before Emily managed to turn around and view her draw. Jill pumped her fist in the air. "Four of diamonds. Sorry everyone. You won't be seeing these tits tonight."

"You get three minutes with Brooke," Emily said trying to hide her disappointment. Missing her wristwatch, she relied on the wall clock to keep time. "Starting right...now."

Jill smiled back and forth between Emily and Brooke as the room silently waited for Seth's petite fiancé to make her move. Considering how much Brooke's friendship with Seth bothered Jill, everyone assumed the next three minutes would be intense. Even though Brooke was never anything more than Seth's friend, she was about to pay.

Jill picked up a medium-sized dildo from the table along with a tube of lubricant. She stepped up to Brooke and held the sexual device inches from her face while slathering it with grease.

Brooke fought to mask her concern. Since her vagina already contained a dildo, she worried that Jill was about to violate an entirely different hole. Brooke wanted to protest, even beg for mercy, but she knew her pleas would only feed Jill's sinister instinct.

Jill pressed her body flat against Brooke's and wrapped her arms around the blonde's torso. Jill slid the tip of the greasy device up and down the blonde's ass crack as the former school teacher winced in humiliation.

Brooke could feel the device's tip pressing gently into her asshole before retreating and returning again. With every penetration, the shaft drove deeper into her virgin crevice. Her ass felt like it was going to rip open from the intruder's girth. Even so, she trembled with passion and anticipation. Her body was betraying her mind yet again.

"You like that?" Jill whispered into Brooke's ear. "You enjoy taking it up the ass?"

While Brooke refused to respond directly, her teeth clenching down on her lower lip affirmed Jill's query. Brooke would never admit it, but, as mortified as being bound and exposed in front of her colleagues made her feel, she desperately wanted to experience the dildo driving deeper into her ass.

Jill pulled the sex toy out of Brooke's orifice and stepped back. After circling around her subject, she slid the device along the side of Brooke's face trailing down her neck to her breasts. She gently circled Brooke's tits with the sloppy dildo then tapped one of the nipple clamps enough to jolt the former teacher.

Jill slid the dildo down Brooke's stomach leaving a line of sticky lube along the way. She then jammed the toy between Brooke's legs intersecting it with the other device which had already been inserted into the blonde's pussy.

Jill circled back around behind Brooke and slid the rubber cock down her crack. Jill angled the tip back into Brooke's asshole and rotated around the pucker like a basketball circling a hoop. Then with a sudden jolt, she drove the rod into Brooke's ass.

"Ahhhh," Brooke screamed flailing against her bonds. "What the fuck?"

"Now, now," Jill returned. "Don't act like you didn't like that."

Save Brooke's moans of pleasure and pain, the room quieted. The unfolding drama both terrified and enthralled the gathering of teachers.

Leaving Brooke's ass plugged with the dildo, Jill circled back around and smiled face-to-face with her victim. She rubbed the back of her palm under Brooke's bosom then down to her clit. Jill gently massaged the wet bulge while Brooke shuddered in her cuffs and spreader bar.

"One minute left," Emily stated matter-of-factly. "One final minute then you can get the fuck out of here."

"Come now," Jill said. She smiled back at Emily, who was still wearing nothing more than the handcuffs behind her back. "You said I could do as I please."

"One minute," Emily returned. "You have one more minute."

Jill turned back to Brooke and grabbed the clamps snapped onto her nipples. With a squeeze, Jill released the tension against. The metal vises fell to the floor as Brooke's body convulsed uncontrollably.

Jill turned back to the table and grabbed a small leather flogger. The room gasped as they considered what she might do next. Head cocked, she slowly approached Brooke with the suede straps swinging through the air. Brooke closed her eyes and braced herself.

Jill swiped the flogger gently across Brooke's tits. Typically, such a swipe would barely sting its recipient. Brooke's already-sore nipples burned in reaction to the grazing impact, however.

Again, Jill whipped the flogger across Brooke's chest barely making contact with her bright pink areolas. Brooke pulled her body as far away from Jill as possible, but the chains securing her leather handcuffs to the ceiling prevented any successful evasion.

Jill swiped a third time making contact with the inside of Brooke's bulbous flesh.

Jill continued to flit and swipe the straps against Brooke's sore tits as the blonde shuffled and dodged the best she could. Jill's smile gave way to a giggle then a laugh as Brooke struggled to limit contact between her burning nipples and the flogger.

After what seemed like an eternity, Emily put a halt to the activities. "Time's up," She insisted. She waited for Jill to step away from Brooke before continuing her instructions. "That's it for our game. Jill, if you'll get the keys out of my jacket, I'll gather everyone's clothes."

Jill grabbed Emily's shredded blue jacket from the floor and dug through the pockets. Jill found two loose keys, one for the pantry where everyone's belongings were locked away and the other for the multiple pairs of handcuffs.

Emily turned her back to Jill and bent slightly forward lifting her hands behind her back. "Go ahead and uncuff me," Emily demanded.

Jill pulled Emily's bound hands even higher over her crooked back and started to unlock the handcuffs. Just before turning the lock, she ripped the key out of its slot and let Brooke's hands fall back down over her ass. "Actually," Jill said. "Why don't you have a seat? I'll run and get the clothes from the pantry. After we're all dressed, maybe I'll set you free."

Brooke looked up in panic. "Jill...Please don't."

"Settle down, Brooke," Jill responded. "I'll let you down eventually."

Emily was furious. "This is unacceptable," she said to Jill. "You're a guest in Brooke's house, and you treat her like this?"

"I said settle down," Jill repeated. "We're all getting our clothes. Just take a seat, and I'll be back in a minute." Jill adjusted her white panties and bra as she looked around the room. Whether out of shock or exhaustion, the group ceded control to Seth's petite fiancé.

Jill smiled deviously and pranced out of the room with her head held high.

Emily sat down on the coffee table as best she could with her hands still cuffed behind her back. The proud woman from earlier that evening was replaced with a broken and humiliated shell of her former self.

Brooke let her body fall limp allowing the ceiling hook and chains support her body weight. Her tits still burned from the nipple clamps and the flogging; dildos still occupied her pussy and asshole. She was no longer aroused. Being naked and exposed no longer excited her. She would never be able to look her coworkers in the eyes again. Even if she wanted to, she could never go back to teaching. Not after all this.

Several minutes passed without the group uttering a word. At one point Seth stood up from his seat as if he was going to check on Jill. Before he could take even a step toward the kitchen, he sat back down and stared at the floor.

The group was so focused on avoiding eye-contact that they didn't notice Jill creep back into the living room.

"Jill," Seth said. "What the..."

"Whoa," Marino added from his corner. "You're...You're naked."

Jill stood still and quiet in the doorway with her arms at her side. She looked up meekly at her fiancé and coworkers.

"Jill," Seth continued. "Why are you...?"

"Why am I naked?" Jill said finishing her fiancé's question for him. "After being such a bitch earlier, I decided to make it up to everyone."

Brooke looked back and forth between Emily and Jill. Brooke could hardly believe that Jill had such a sudden change of heart, that she simply chose to strip naked in front of everyone. "So could you let me down?" Brooke begged.

"Oh...yeah," Jill said as she rushed across the room to get the stepladder. Before climbing the steps, she reached over Susan and Jenny to grab a throw blanket from the back of the couch. She wrapped the cover around Brooke then reached inside the wrap to retrieve the dildos from Brooke's body.

Susan jumped up from the couch and held the covering tightly around Brooke's chest while Jill removed the spreader bar from Brooke's ankles. Jill then climbed the stepladder and unlocked the leather cuffs.

Once her arms were free, Brooke almost fell to the floor. Her limbs were numb, and she had to rely on Susan to maintain her balance. The blanket felt warm and comforting around her tired body.

Clutching the throw blanket around her sore body, Brooke stumbled to the recliner where Thomas Riley jumped up to offer her the seat. Brooke plopped into the chair. She was humiliated and broken, but she was thankful to have her ordeal over with. Assuming Mark was pleased by her performance, which he sure as hell should be, she looked forward to rebuilding her life and to finally getting revenge on Janice, her lifelong nemesis. Brooke watched as her guests made their way to the kitchen and retrieved their clothes. Marino, the flirt who spent a large part of the night crouching naked in the corner, opted to leave rather than continue socializing. Considering Jill was still hanging around the living room naked, Bobby wanted to stay back. Unfortunately for Bobby, he needed Marino to drive him home since none of the other guests were willing to step up.

With her entire wardrobe shredded, Emily borrowed a robe from Brooke's bathroom and sat uncomfortably on the coffee table. She was ready for the night to end but couldn't leave until the final guests took their leave.
Once everyone made their way back to the living room, Jill again asked for everyone's attention. "Can we all get together?" Jill asked. "We're going to let Brooke take a picture to remember her evening by."

"A picture?" Seth asked his fiancé in disbelief. "You're taking a picture...like that?"

"We're taking one for Brooke," Jill answered motioning for the group to get together. "I trust she won't share it with anyone. Seth, could you get Brooke's phone? You'll be our photographer."

Still wrapped in her blanket, Brooke stood between Jill and Emily. The rest of the group lined up behind the three girls.

"Say cheese," Seth said as he snapped a couple pictures on Brooke's phone.

After the photo, the group said their goodbyes and made their exits. Jill stood by the front door completely naked wishing everyone a good night. After the other guests had checked out, Jill asked Seth to wait for her in the car.

"What got into you?" Emily asked Jill as the door closed behind Seth. "What's with the change of heart?"

"Fuck you," Jill replied. She covered her tits and pussy with her hands. "Fuck you and your friend too. If you share that picture with anyone, I'll kick your ass."

Brooke was stunned. "What are you...?"

"So you met Mr. Griffin?" Emily asked. She wrapped her arm around Brooke and smiled at their naked houseguest.

"He called my phone while I was in the kitchen," Jill answered. "He told me to give Brooke a message."

"A message?' Brooke asked. "You talked to Mark?"

"Yeah," Jill replied. "He says, 'Welcome to the family.' Whatever that means."

"That's great," Brooke returned. "I guess you know what's next."

"What's that?" Jill asked.

"What's that?" Brooke echoed. "You can get the fuck out of my house. That's what."

Chapter Six

Janice had a feeling this would be a bad day, and, before even making it into the office, her premonition proved correct. Some idiot parked in her reserved spot. She worked her ass off for that space, and another employee parking there so callously was, for lack of a better term, unacceptable.

In less than ten years, Janice worked through the ranks of Steadman Watts, a regional investment firm. She started as an advisor but quickly built a network of wealthy and influential allies. Her connections helped her become a senior adviser in less than two years then a junior manager in five years. Just last week, the firm had promoted her to a senior management role; the reserved parking space, along with a bevy of perks, accompanied the new position.

Rather than slamming her new company-issued Mercedes against the interloping vehicle, Janice settled for another open spot and left a nasty note on the offending car's windshield. This infraction wasn't going to be left unaddressed, but she didn't have the time or desire to sit in the parking lot all morning; she had more important things to do.

Janice made her way through the lobby waving off the receptionist and heading straight to the coffee pot. She wasn't about to seek out the owner of that god-awful Corolla until she had her requisite dose of caffeine.

Janice grabbed her brew and leaned against the breakroom counter sipping the warm beverage. She enjoyed spending some time around the sales department every morning as she wanted to be visible in her new role. Clawing her way to the top of the office food chain was not an easy thing to do, and she had fended off a lot of competition along the way. As far as she was concerned, it was important to remind her former sales team about her ongoing success.

Even at just over thirty years old, Janice looked like an important executive. With her five-inch Christian Louboutin platform heels, black with red soles, Janice stood almost six feet tall. Her gray Armani high-necked dress with matching two-button wool jacket hugged her perfect figure without crossing the lines of professionalism. Her shoulder-length curly brunette hair was almost a throwback to her college days. Janice understood that her looks had played a significant role in making her the successful women she became, and she wasn't about to apologize for her appearance.

"Hi Janice," Scott Murphy said as he stepped into the break room for his morning fix. "How are you this fine morning?"

"I'm all right," Janice replied without making eye contact.

The room fell silent as Scott prepared his coffee and grabbed a bagel from the counter. "Well, have a good day," Scott offered in a nervous tone as he finished spreading cream cheese on his bagel.

Janice didn't reply or even look up as he left the room.

Working with Scott was awkward for Janice. He had been her manager but was officially demoted to a sales position after anonymous allegations of sexual harassment made their way to human resources. He could have fought the charges if not for several text messages he had sent to another one of his female subordinates. The recipient of the messages claimed that she had never shared them, but her denial failed to provide Scott any solace. Eventually, the subordinate quit, and he was demoted.

Soon after the company had promoted Janice to her first management position, she admitted to Scott that it was she who had initially turned him in and had shared the private text messages. She had claimed her actions were for the good of the company even though it broke her heart to report such a close friend and former manager.

Janice headed to her office where she would check her morning emails and finish her coffee. Once she had her day correctly set into motion, she would find out who parked their car in her spot.

After barely breaking into her email, Janice's phone rang; it was the Tamara, the lobby receptionist. Janice thought about letting the call go to voicemail but figured Tamara would respond with a personal visit.

"Hello," Janice answered in an irritated tone. "I'm crazy busy right now."

"Sorry, Miss Barnette," the receptionist replied. "There's a Brooke Mitchell here to see you."

"Brooke Mitchell?" Janice snapped. "Tell her I don't have time for her today."

"She says it's urgent," the receptionist added nervously. "She said it's about the Cayman Islands."

Janice dropped the handset to her desk. She immediately assumed the Cayman Islands reference had something to do with her offshore bank account. Janice would never trust anyone, especially Brooke, with such sensitive information.

"Think this through," Janice whispered to herself before calmly picking the phone back up and telling the receptionist to have Brooke wait. "I'm in the middle of something. I'll be down there as soon as possible."

Janice pulled out her tablet computer and quickly opened her banking app; she wasn't about to log into her account using the company computer system. She couldn't breathe as the tablet struggled to load her financial information. As the account page finally appeared, she freaked out. Her money was gone!

Janice jumped out from behind her desk and started pacing around her office frantically. When she caught a couple office workers watching her mini-tantrum, she quickly closed the vertical blinds on her office window. She needed a minute to think this through.

Once free of onlookers, Janice continued her pacing. She was not only worried about losing a significant portion of her life savings; she was also concerned that Brooke might have figured out where the Cayman Islands money originated from. Janice initially worried that her visitor might have already contacted the authorities. However, considering that the money had already disappeared and that Brooke was making an unannounced visit, Janice presumed that her secret was still safe.

Janice calmly walked through the office toward the lobby. With each step, the pain in her stomach intensified. Despite her nerves, she reminded herself to put on a strong face. She couldn't show Brooke any signs of weakness.

"Well, hello there," Janice said approaching her former college-mate. As Brooke stood up, Janice gave the former school teacher a firm yet friendly embrace. "You want to come back to my office?" Janice offered politely.

"That would be lovely," Brooke returned with a professional smile.

As the women walked back through the facility, Janice stopped in the breakroom to fetch Brooke a bottle of water. Since Janice's mouth was parched, she grabbed one for herself too. For her, the pit stop was as much about delaying her meeting with Brooke as it was about rehydrating.

Once in her office, Janice offered Brooke a seat then sat down on the other side of her desk. Janice decided against sitting together at the office's round table. The more formal positioning gave her a psychological advantage, and she wanted every benefit she could get.

"So what brings you here?" Janice asked calmly. "It's been a long time. Hasn't it?"

"Not long enough for me, frankly," Brooke answered coming right to her point. "All you had to do was leave me alone. It wasn't enough that you destroyed my father's life. You had to come after me too."

"Well," Janice replied stoically. "I can't claim to know what exactly you're referring to. It's true that I had an unfortunate relationship with your father, but that was consensual. As for coming after you..."

"Stop with the lies," Brook interrupted. "I'm not here to argue with you."

Janice leaned back in her office chair and crossed her arms under her chest. "Then why exactly are you here, Brooke?"

"I'm here to set things right," Brooke returned.

"Set things right?" Janice replied. She leaned forward over her desk resting her forearms on the cherry surface and tapping her fingers on the wood. "What could you possibly mean by that?"

"Let's cut the shit," Brooke said. "Can we just be straight with each other for a change?"

"Certainly," Janice said while still fighting to remain calm. "I would like that very much."

"I know what you did," Brooke said. "I know everything, and I can prove it."

"Everything I did?" Janice answered. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"We can discuss it further tonight," Brooke insisted. "This room isn't secure."

"Secure?" Janice asked. "What do you mean by that? You're a little paranoid all of a sudden. Aren't you?"

"We can talk tonight," Brooke said. She stood up from the chair and draped her purse over her shoulder. "I'll pick you up at seven. We'll meet out front."

"Oh," Janice said. "Tonight is going to be tough. Maybe we can get together some other time."

"I'll see you at seven," Brooke said. She opened the door to Janice's office and started to leave before turning back. "Don't worry about me. I'll show myself out."

Janice jumped up from behind her desk and ran to the door. She watched Brooke walking confidently through the sea of cubicles. As soon as her guest was out of sight, Janice closed the door and fell to her knees on the floor. "Why is this happening to me?" she begged. She rested her forehead against the frosted glass separating her from the rest of her office.

Never one for wishful thinking, Janice was well aware that Brooke somehow managed to turn the tables in their relationship. She knew that Brooke would do her best to extract a pound of proverbial flesh before their drama played out. Janice also realized that she had to go along with Brooke at least until learning more about Brooke's intentions.

Despite their relationship's new dynamics, Janice wasn't about to take Brooke's threat lying down. Janice wasn't sure how, but she was going to thwart Brooke's plan and make her suffer. Janice smiled as she pondered how exactly she was going to punish the former school teacher. Brooke would rue the day she walked into this office.

Chapter Seven

Still wearing her professional attire from the day, Janice waited impatiently in her company's foyer. Brooke had promised to pick her up at seven o'clock and was already late. This was an unacceptable affront. Janice, after all, could have used the extra time to catch up on some paperwork.

Almost an hour after the designated meeting time, Brooke finally drove her infuriatingly-familiar red Corolla into Steadman Watts' driveway. The idea that it was her who had assumed Janice's parking space earlier that day made what was about to happen that much harder for Janice to swallow. Even so, the thirty-one-year-old brunette had to suck it up.

"You want me to drive?" Brooke yelled through her open window as she pulled up next to Janice. "Or would you rather we take your car?"

"Let's take my car," Janice insisted. She pointed in the direction of the visitor's lot. "Go ahead and park. I'll come around and get you."

Janice forced herself to take deep breaths as she traversed the short distance to her Mercedes. She had to play it cool and not permit Brooke to bait her into any compulsive behavior. Janice knew she was smarter than Brooke could ever dream of being, and she was prepared to use every resource at her disposal to take back her power.

"Wow," Brooke said as she slid into the Mercedes' black leather passenger seat. "What a fantastic car. How much does something like this go for, anyway?"

"I couldn't say," Janice lied as she stepped on the accelerator and sped out of the lot. "It's a company car. Where are we going?"

"Turn north on the highway," Brooke said. "It's a little ways up the road. I'll let you know when we're there."

Except for Brooke's directions, the former college classmates sat quietly throughout the sixty-minute drive. Janice was desperate to press Brooke for more information but knew better. After years of tough negotiations, Janice understood that whoever speaks first usually loses, and she had no intention of losing this negotiation.

"Exit here," Brooke blurted out just seconds before Janice nearly missed the requisite exit. Janice swerved dangerously onto the ramp then followed a narrow road for another half mile. Her heart sunk when she saw exactly where it was Brooke was taking her.

"Have you ever been to a strip club?" Brooke asked gleefully.

"Um, yeah," Janice answered as she pulled into the gravel parking lot. "I've been to a few bachelorette parties that involved strip clubs. Why are we here, anyway?"

The club looked exactly as Janice would expect from such a seedy establishment. The metal building was probably once a warehouse or storage facility. Old nets filled with fake fish hung along the rippled metal walls. A statue of a hula dancer with her grass skirt all but completely ripped off stood by the front door. Along the side of the road was a fake palm tree and an old marquee sign that read, "The Beach House," followed by, "Couples welcome."

"Don't worry about why we're here," Brooke insisted. "Let's just go get a drink and have some fun."

Janice didn't believe for a second that Brooke was only looking for a rowdy evening and a few drinks. They were at the club for a reason, and Janice would have to stay focused if she wanted to avoid embarrassing herself.

The girls entered the foyer area and showed an older scraggly guy their identification. Brooke made Janice pay the club's twenty-dollar cover fee.

As they entered the club, Janice and Lucy walked behind a large but mostly empty fish tank. The facility appeared more impressive on the inside than one would surmise from its shoddy exterior. The establishment was well lit with rich red carpet and mirrors along the walls. A giant circle stage dominated the center of the room surrounded by several rows of round tables and blue roller chairs. A second raised level with plush blue benches surrounded the main stage and seating area.

A single dancer occupied the stage. She was somewhat heavyset with blonde hair and was wearing a skimpy pink bikini; her oversized translucent platform heels had a slot labeled 'tips' at its base. Perhaps in response to the three-person crowd, the dancer unenthusiastically circled one of stage's two poles. The audience appeared as unimpressed by the dancer's performance as she was by their thriftiness.

A large bar area stood just opposite the fish tanks and housed two scantily-clad bartenders; both ladies were in their late-twenties or early thirties and were more focused on their cell phones than their jobs. There was another bar in the back corner of the club, but it was dark and roped off. Just opposite the back bar was a large dimly-lit room with several rows of benches. Janice assumed this was where lap dances and other tawdry transactions took place.

A younger-looking deejay sat in an elevated cubby near the lap dance area. The man looked bored resting his head on his cupped hands in front of a computer.

"I'll grab a booth," Brooke said. "Go ahead and buy us some drinks. I'll have a shot of whatever looks good." Without waiting for Janice's response, Brooke took off. She circled the outside of the main floor on her way to the back of the club.

Janice was thankful for a minute to take everything in. Especially in her gray business suit, she didn't fit in here, not as a customer and certainly not as a performer. She wanted to get whatever Brooke had planned over with and go home, but Janice knew she couldn't rush things.

Janice stepped up to the bar and leaned between a couple empty bar stools. A middle-aged man at the end of the row stared her down while she awaited service; she tried to avoid eye contact with the slightly overweight fellow.

"Excuse me," Janice said to the closest bartender, a skinny girl with jet black hair, big eyes, and olive skin. "Can I get a couple shots?"

"Sorry," the bartender responded as she set her phone on the counter and stepped over to Janice. The barkeep wore a cutoff t-shirt over a black bra and tight black shorts. "What'll it be?"

"Two shots of tequila, please," Janice returned. "Two bottles of beer too."

"Sure thing," the lady answered as she started pouring the drinks. "What brings you ladies out here tonight?"

"That's a great question," Janice responded uncomfortably. "I wish I had an answer."

"Sounds like quite a story," the bartender responded sarcastically. "That'll be thirty dollars."

"Thirty dollars?" Janice choked.

"What? You've never been to a strip club before?" the bartender returned. "It's our social contract. We show you our tits, and you pay extra for beer."

"You haven't shown me your tits," Janice mused as she handed the bartender her credit card.

"The night's young," the girl shot back with a smile. "Want to start a tab?"

"Sure," Janice said. "Okay."

Before joining Brooke, Janice took a minute to get a better feel for the place and to reconsider how she would approach the evening. She still wasn't sure what Brooke was up to although she was likely to put her cards on the table soon enough. Brooke, after all, didn't drive an hour out of town to a strip club just so they could enjoy overpriced drinks.

As anxious as she was nervous, Janice grabbed the two beer bottles in one hand and the matching tequila shots in the other. Careful not to spill the shots, Janice slowly made her way around the stage area to the back of the club.

Rows of padded blue benches lined the facility's side walls; they were each large enough for two people and were separated by matching blue dividers. A round table adorned with a fake candle and drink menu sat in front of each booth. Brooke waited for Janice in a seat near the back bar.

Not wanting to sit beside Brooke in the booth, Janice set the drinks down on the small table and slid a roller chair up to the bench.

"Tequila," Brooke said thankfully. "Great choice."

"Remember how we used to do shots in college?" Janice asked. "It's a shame we haven't had a chance to get together since graduation."

"That is too bad," Brooke answered sarcastically. "You've done all right for yourself since getting out of school. I mean at least you have a career."
"Thanks," Janice said choosing to play Brooke's sarcasm straight. "Just so you know, I really am sorry about how things worked out with your job."

"You mean my jobs?" Brooke replied. "That's 'jobs.' Plural."

"Well, I am sorry," Janice insisted. "If you want, I can hook you up with my company. You would make more money anyway."

"Actually," Brooke returned. "I already have another job."

"You do?" Janice said. "That's great. I'm so happy for you. Are you teaching somewhere new?"

"No," Brooke said calmly. "As it turns out, YOU are my new job."

"I'm your... What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said," Brooke answered. "You are my new job."

"I don't understand," Janice returned. "Why do you say that? It doesn't make sense."

"We'll get to that soon enough," Brooke said. "First, we need to make sure you're not recording our conversation."

"What?" Janice said. "I would never do that. Not to you."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Brooke replied. "Better safe than sorry, though." Brooke opened her purse and pulled out a folded plastic shopping bag which she handed to Janice. "Go to the restroom and get undressed. Put all your clothes in this bag."

Janice held the bag for a few seconds. She inspected it carefully then set the bag back on the table. "Brooke, I'm sorry. No way 's going to happen."

"That's up to you," Brooke answered. "If that's the case, we're done here."

Janice smiled and gently rested her hand on Brooke's forearm. "I don't think so, Brooke. I'll let you know when we're done."

Brooke moved her arm out from under Janice's hand then pulled out her phone. "I'm ordering a cab," Brooke said as she opened her taxi app. "When the cab gets here, I'm leaving."

Janice leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. Her lips quivered. This was the first time she had shown Brooke any sign of weakness. "You can't be serious," Janice said.

Brooke quietly and deliberately set her phone on the table. Her screen noted that her requested taxi would pick her up in twenty minutes. She leaned back in the booth confidently with one hand on her lap and the other extended to the top of the blue seat divider.

"You want me to take off my clothes?" Janice asked anxiously. "What am I supposed to wear?"

"I'll get you something to wear," Brooke assured Janice. "I just have to make sure you're not recording our conversation. You do have a nasty habit of taping people when they don't know about it."

"You'll get me something to wear?" Janice asked. She ignored Brooke's shot about her eavesdropping tendencies.

Brooke cocked her head and stared back and Janice. She wasn't going to repeat herself.

"All right," Janice said. "I'll play along with your little game, but you better not be lying to me."

Brooke again refused to offer a response.

"Fine," Janice said, again breaking the silence. "Just so you know, I'll expect answers. If I do this, you better come clean about my money."

Without a word, Brooke slid the folded plastic bag back across the table toward Janice.

"You're playing with fire," Janice threatened as she picked up the bag. She gave Brooke a final dirty look then jumped out of her seat storming away from the table.

Janice made her way back around the club. She walked past the front bar again trying to avoid eye contact with the overweight guy who had been staring at her earlier. When he stepped off of his bar stool and started moving in her direction, the brunette jogged past him and into the restroom.

Thankfully, the women's room was empty. The last thing Janice wanted to do at this point was explain herself to some stripper. She looked around the tacky bathroom at the three yellow cubicals and the sponge-painted walls. There were two sinks by the stalls, one of which was broken. The paper towel dispenser also appeared out of order, but there was a pile of folded hand towels on top of it.

Janice stepped into the back stall and attempted to close the door. Unfortunately, the gate was separated from the frame enough to prevent the latch from matching up with its hook. She tried the other two stalls, but the floors were wet. There was no way she would risk dropping her Armani dress into a pool of some stripper's urine.

Janice decided to undress in the back stall. She grabbed a stack of paper towels and wedged them between the door and its frame. It wasn't the best option, but at least it held the door closed.

Janice removed her gray jacket and hung it on the stall door's broken coat hook. She then reached behind her dress and struggled to pull the zipper down her back. Before sliding the straps off her shoulders, Janice took a second to think through what was about to happen. Was she really going to take off her clothes in here? Could she count on Brooke to follow through with her promise of something else to wear?

In a way, Janice was impressed at how thorough Brooke's plan was. While Janice had no intention of recording their conversation, it made sense for Brooke to use caution. Janice also thought about who might be helping the former teacher. Janice knew it could be any number of people. The unfortunate cost of her success was that she made a lot of enemies along the way.

Careful not to let her expensive dress hit the restroom floor, Janice slid the garment down her torso, over her hips, then down her legs. She stepped free of the dress and folded it carefully before slipping it into the plastic bag. She decided to keep her red silk underwear and black heels on at least until Brooke showed up with an alternative outfit. Janice slid her jacket in with the dress and hung the plastic sack on the coat hook.

Just as Janice finished hanging the bag, the bathroom door opened. Janice couldn't tell whether it was Brooke or someone else, and, considering she was only wearing her bra and panties, wasn't about to look.

"Janice?" a familiar voice asked. "Are you Janice," the lady continued through the stall door.

It was the bartender who had served Janice earlier.

"Yeah. I'm Janice."

"Your friend asked me to loan you an outfit for your tryout," the waitress said. "You want it?"

"Uh, sure," Janice said. She wanted to inquire about the supposed try out but wasn't about to discuss it with the bartender.

The lady pulled the stall door open as Janice contorted her body over her bra and panties. The wad of paper towels holding the door closed fell to the floor.

The bartender giggled. She rested her hand on the open door and extended what looked like a wad of yellow strings toward Janice. "Honey, you can't wear those out there," the bartender laughed.

Janice took the yellow string bikini from the bartender. "Um, thanks."

"You're welcome," the lady replied. "You can leave the bag with your other clothes by the bar. I'll keep an eye on them for you."

"Okay," Janice said. She closed the door between her and the bartender.

"Now I've seen it all," the lady mumbled under her breath as she started out of the restroom. "Now I've seen it all."

Janice inspected the yellow bikini. The top basically consisted of straps that wrapped around her neck and back conjoined by two small pieces of almost see-through yellow fabric. The thong bottoms offered the same limited material for her pussy connected to strings for her waist and ass crack.

Janice had never worn anything like this in public. She normally wasn't even a fan of wearing bikinis to the beach. Her sexuality was her power, and she wasn't one for giving it away freely.

Considering the not-so-subtle hints from the bartender and the string bikini, it didn't take much for Janice to figure out Brooke's plan. The blonde expected Janice to go out into the bar wearing the skimpy yellow outfit then, at some point, go on stage and strip for everyone.

Janice knew she would have to be careful if she didn't want to end up naked in front of a room full of horny men. As much as she didn't want to leave the restroom wearing the barely-there yellow outfit, she had to find out what Brooke's endgame was. Janice had to know exactly how much evidence Brooke had and what she intended to do with said leverage. Janice also needed to figure out what happened to the cash from her Cayman Islands account. To get this information, she would have to wear the ridiculous yellow bikini, but, if she knew anything, it was that she would never get on that stage. Stepping out of the bathroom in the bikini was as far as she intended to go.

Janice put on the string bikini doing her best to position the material swatches over her areolas and pussy. Her hard nipples poked through the yellow material like knives about to pierce the fabric. The outline of her pussy lips folded in on the suit's bottoms. Since the waitress didn't provide Janice with any shoes, the investment manager kept her work heels on. The Christian Louboutin heels clashed with the stripper outfit, but she didn't have a more appropriate option.

Clutching the plastic bag containing her work clothes over her chest, Janice stepped out of the stall and moved toward the bathroom door. She could hear a guy hitting on one of the dancers just outside the restroom. As soon as she swung the door open, she would step directly into the man's line of sight. Even so, she knew she didn't have a choice. While she didn't expect Brooke to make good on her threat to take a cab home, Janice knew she couldn't wait too long.

Janice swung the door open almost hitting the dancer. Before the stripper or her customer could offer commentary, Janice jogged past them toward the bar. Without a word, she handed the plastic bag to the bartender and scoped out the club. There were a couple of new customers sitting by the stage, and another new gentleman cuddled up with a stripper in one of the booths. Janice kept her head down as she moved past the main entrance and around the stage area toward Brooke.

"Beautiful," Brooke said clapping for Janice as the brunette sat back down. "You look so hot."

"I did what you said," Janice responded coldly. She leaned forward in her rolling chair with her arms crossed over her chest. "Now please tell me what you want from me."

"What I want from you?" Brooke returned. The blonde smiled wildly at Janice. "Don't look at it that way. I prefer to think of our situation as two women helping each other."

"And how, pray tell, can we help each other?" Janice snapped.

"That's right," Brooke answered. "We're a team now, Janice."

"Can you please stop with the games?" Janice begged impatiently. "Just come out with it already."

"Someone's in a bad mood tonight," Brooke joked. "Fine. I'll just lay my cards on the table."

"Thanks," Janice said. "That's all I ask."

"Why don't I start with what I can do for you?" Brooke said.

"What you can do for me?" Janice quipped. "This should be good."

"That's right," Brooke answered. "Like I said. We're a team."

"Whatever," Janice responded looking nervously around the club as a couple more men stepped through the main entrance. "Just come out with it already."

Brooke smiled and looked down at the table; she was clearly savoring this moment as Janice squirmed like a worm on a hook. "So here's the deal," Brooke finally said. "I know you've been stealing money from your clients."

"You can't prove that," Janice inserted.

"I can prove it," Brooke said. "Not that it matters."

Janice pulled an arm from around her body and rested it on her chair's side. "And why doesn't it matter? Without proof, it's your word against mine."

"Like I said," Brooke added. "I do have proof, plenty of it. Also like I said, it's immaterial. What matters is that you failed to cover up your tracks on three different accounts. At year's end, the auditors will catch the discrepancies, and you'll get caught."

Janice was speechless.

"I have your attention now," Brooke observed with a smirk. "I know what you're doing. You're playing everything back in your mind trying to piece together any loose ends. As far as you know, your scheme was bulletproof, but it wasn't. It's wasn't failsafe at all, not by a long shot."

"What... What do you mean?" Forgetting her scant attire, Janice clutched chair's armrests with both hands. The thought of her nipples poking through the flimsy yellow material drifted to the back her mind.

"I'll tell you where you messed up," Brooke continued. "Two years ago, your firm hired a security company to create a ghost log of every transaction. While you may have successfully covered your tracks with your office accounting software, you never adjusted the security log."

"You're bluffing," Janice accused.

"I'm not bluffing," Brooke said. "How do you think I found your Cayman Islands account? How do you think I accessed the money you stole?"

"You took my money," Janice said sliding forward to the very edge of her chair. "I knew it. You act like you're so much better than me, but you stole my money."

Brooke shook her head in denial. "I didn't take your money. A friend of mine found out about what you were doing and just put the money in another account. The funds are still in your name. Technically, you can still access the money; you just don't know where to find it."

"A friend of yours?" Janice queried. "I knew you were working with someone. Who is it?"

"Don't worry about that right now," Brooke insisted. "I'll introduce you to my friend in due time. For now, just know that we've kept the money safe and in your name."

"Why?" Janice asked. "Why would you leave the funds in my name? Why not just take it for yourself?"

"Because," Brooke answered. "You're going to give it back to the people you stole it from. You're going to pay back every penny you took from your clients, and you're going to do so before the next audit."

"I can't," Janice said. "It's not all there. Some of it's already spent."

"I know," Brooke replied. "You spent one-hundred thousand dollars and seventy-nine cents."

"Is it that much?" Janice asked. "I don't have that money. I can't pay all of it back."

"That's why we're here," Brooke said. "You're going to earn it back."

"Earn it back?" Janice exclaimed nervously. "How am I going to earn back that much money?"

"Look around," Brooke said. "That's why we're here. That's why we're at a strip club."

Janice scanned the room. She looked at the deejay plotting out the next song. She observed the stage where a dancer was jamming a guy's face between her tits to collect a dollar. She looked at the two bartenders in cutoff t-shirts. "You want me to earn the money here...at a strip club?"

"That's right," Brooke said. "You have just over six months before the audit. If you can earn the hundred-thousand dollars, we'll reimburse your clients and destroy the evidence against you."

"You're out of your mind," Janice said. "There's no way I'm working here. Even if I did, I could never earn that much in six months. I'll find some other way to pay back the money. I promise I will."

"That's not the deal," Brooke said. "I'll get the money back to its rightful owners, and you won't be implicated in the audit. In return, you'll work here until the debt is paid off. You can keep your day job at Steadman Watts, but you'll spend your nights here."

"But what about my real job?" Janice said. "They'll fire me if they find out I'm stripping."

"Then don't let them find out," Brooke said.

Janice frowned. "That's a huge risk."

"It is a risk," Brooke conceded. "Then again, waiting around hoping the auditors don't find the stolen money would be an even greater risk."

"I don't know," Janice returned. "What if I work here for six months and don't earn all the money. One-hundred thousand in just six months?"

"Do your best," Brooke said. "We'll take a look at where you're at in six months and go from there."

"We'll take a look at where I'm at?" Janice repeated. "That's not very reassuring."

"We'll worry about that in six months," Brooke insisted firmly.

"That doesn't sound promising," Janice scoffed.

"Look, Janice," Brooke snapped. "Just make sure you get the money. Then everything will go back to normal."

"That's easy for you to say," Janice scolded.

"You're taking this all wrong, Janice. I'm giving you a way to avoid spending the rest of your life in jail. I know this is a tough decision, and it's your decision to make." Brooke paused momentarily before continuing. "You have to decide now."

"Yeah," Janice scoffed. "Some decision. I either spend the next six months stripping for perverts, or I go to jail. You know this is blackmail; don't you?"

"This is me helping you out," Brooke said. "It's more than you did for me."

"More than I did for you?" Janice returned. "So there it is. This is all about revenge?"

"This is about setting things right for you and for me," Brooke answered calmly. "I didn't put you in this position. You're the one who made this mess. I'm offering you a way out. Do you want my help, or would you rather figure it out on your own?"

Janice looked down at the table as she considered her options. If Brooke were bluffing, it was an effective lie. At a minimum, Janice needed time to figure everything out. She had no choice but to play along, at least for the time being. Unfortunately, that meant taking to the stage and shedding her clothes.

"I guess so," Janice finally relented. "What do I do now?"

"Now?" Brooke returned. "Now you have to try out. If you don't get the job, then the deal's off."

"I'll get the job," Janice assured Brooke. "I'll get the fucking job."

Chapter Eight

Janice made her way back to the bar. She was self-conscious about her tiny yellow bikini but tried to keep her hands at her sides. The brunette beauty didn't want to create more of a scene than necessary before her tryout. Besides, if she were going to actually work at the Beach House, she would spend a lot of time in similar outfits or even less.

"Hi," Janice said to the same bartender she spoke with earlier. "I think I'm ready for my tryout."

The lady smiled back at Janice. "Sweet. The owner's not here yet, and he has to sign off on all new dancers. Just hang out by the stage for a while. He'll be in any minute."

"That's okay," Janice said to the bartender. "I'll just wait back there with my friend. How long exactly do you think it will be?"

"No telling," the bartender replied. "I'm Anna by the way." She pointed to the other bartender. "That sexy bitch over there is Abigale."

"Nice to meet you," Janice said shaking Anna's hand. Abigale, who was conversing with the heavyset man, just nodded from across the bar.

"Make yourself comfortable," Anna said. "Mitch should be here any minute."

Janice returned to the back table and sat quietly watching the girls rotate on and off the stage. She carefully studied the dancers. She watched how they moved, how they took tips from customers, and even how they removed their clothes. She paid particular attention to which girls were making money and which were not.

As time passed, the club started to fill up. The scant group of guys evolved into more than a dozen onlookers. Janice realized that if she followed through with the plan, she would eventually have to expose herself to much larger groups of men. Even so, she preferred a smaller crowd for her first performance.

One of the girls caught Janice's eye. Harmony, a shorter girl with small tits and a bubble butt, carried herself differently from the other dancers. While still effeminate, Harmony's freckled face featured prominent cheekbones and a slightly larger nose. While still beautiful, she was anything but a typical stripper.

Harmony wore shredded jean shorts over a thong along with a red gingham crop top. Her bright red hair was wrapped in ponytails. Where the other dancers were hypersexual with the guys, she acted more like their best friend, as a sister even. She wasn't as focused on hustling the customers; it was almost as if she loved the attention and companionship more than the money.
Janice waited until Harmony finished her most recent set then ran up to meet her by the stage. "Hi," Janice said nervously. "I'm Janice."

"Harmony," The girl returned as she shook Janice's hand. "You new here?"

"Yeah," Janice answered. "Yeah...I guess I am. I mean I'm trying out tonight."

"Good for you," Harmony said as she waved down one of her customers. "I have to give a lap dance. If you wanna hang out a minute, I'd be happy to show you the ropes."

"That would be so sweet," Janice answered. "I would be so grateful."

"Sweet," Harmony replied. "Back in a sec." She took off running across the floor area and dove into an older gentleman's arms. The man gave her a hug and squeezed her plump ass cheeks with both hands.

Janice took a seat by the stage area. She looked back at Brooke, who was still in her booth taking advantage of the open bar tab.

The floor area felt much more open than Brooke and her seat tucked safely in the corner. The club's customers stared unapologetically. Janice was used to men checking her out, but, in the real world, most guys did so more subtly.

One guy, a younger man with a shaved head and a leather biker vest, sat a couple tables down from Janice. The girl on stage occupied most of his attention, but his gaze occasionally wondered toward Janice, who did her best to avoid making eye contact.

Janice was about to retreat to her booth when Harmony returned from her single lap dance.

"I hate cheap guys," Harmony complained as she plopped into the chair across from Janice. "When are you trying out?"

"I don't know," Janice said. "When Mitch gets here."

"He's here already," Harmony said pointing to a large man sitting on the bar stool closest to the entrance.

Mitch bookended the bar with the other large gentleman who had eyed Janice earlier in the evening. Mitch was an even bigger man whose gut hung out over his pants. His dress shirt strained to stay inside the tight belt around his jeans as he rested a single ass cheek on the stool. He was holding a giant plastic cup from a convenience store while reading something on his phone.

"Hey, Mitch," Harmony yelled across the club while waving her hands in the air. When Mitch turned around, Harmony pointed at Janice. "Tryout. She's trying out."

Mitch held up a finger indicating that he would be over in a minute.

"So how does all this work?" Janice asked Harmony. "Do you make most of your money from tips?"

"Oh, no," Harmony laughed. "Tips are fine, but that's not where the real money's at."

"The real money?" Janice returned attentively.

Brooke offered Janice a brief summary of how the club worked. Each girl had to pay the bar fifty dollars every night; this was their tip-out. They also had to chip in five dollars for every lap dance they gave and fifty dollars for every fifteen minutes they spent in the VIP rooms.

The girls made their money from several sources. They would get tips while onstage, but their big money came from dances and the VIP. Girls could charge thirty dollars for each lap dance and would receive 150 dollars for every fifteen minutes in the VIP room.

The girls had to wear their panties during dances, but, as Harmony explained, many of the girls would get naked in the VIP room. "Never take your panties off during someone's first time back there," she advised. Finally, she warned Janice to never, under any circumstances, have sex with a customer in the club. "If you get caught having sex, you'll be banned from the club forever," Harmony insisted.

"Don't worry about that," Janice assured Harmony. "There is no chance of that."

"Are you Janice," Mitch said as he approached Janice and Harmony's table. "Anna tells me you're trying out."

"Good luck," Harmony said as she stood up from her seat. "I'm sure you'll knock 'em dead."

"Uh, yeah," Janice replied to Mitch. "You want me to go right now?"

Mitch sat down at the table with Janice and handed her a stack of paperwork. "You need to fill all this out first. Once it's complete, bring it up to the bar. Then go check in with the deejay. Ted will set everything up for your tryout."

Janice combed through the various forms, most of which were designed to protect the strip club from potential liability. As she finished the paperwork, the realization of what she was about to do hit her like a Mack truck. As a teenager, Janice used to joke about strippers all the time, but she never would have predicted that she would eventually work as a dancer herself. Now she was mere minutes from taking the stage.

After dropping off her paperwork, Janice dutifully made her way back across the club to the deejay booth. Brooke mouthed a few words of encouragement as Janice passed the corner booth.

"You must be Janice," the deejay said as Janice stood on her toes trying to look into the seat. "That your stage name or your real name?"

"My stage name?" Janice returned. "I didn't think about that."

"No problem," Ted assured Janice. "I'll just call you Paris."

"Paris?" Janice asked. "Why Paris?"

"I don't know," Ted said. "You kinda look like a Paris. You're up next. I'll play two songs for you. Dance the first number in what you've got on now then strip naked for the second song. Got it?"

Janice looked nervously at Ted.

"Got it?" Ted repeated.

"I got it," Janice finally assured him. "I got it."

With a nod, Ted turned his attention from Janice and grabbed the mic. "Let's give it up for Sugar," Ted spoke into the sound system using his deepest announcer's voice. "She's coming back to you for one more song. Up next, we have a special treat for you as Paris takes our Beach House stage for the first time ever."

Janice's body tensed up as she heard the announcement. She was next. A single song stood between her and her first public striptease.

Janice's knees weakened as she forced herself back around the main seating area toward the stage. She looked down at her body covered in nothing more than a few strings and some thin yellow material. As much as she hated that bikini, she was terrified about what she had to do next.

Janice sat down near the stage and watched Sugar, an older dancer by strip club standards, finish her final dance. While most of the audience didn't pay much attention to Sugar's show, one guy sat attentively behind the brass bar separating the seating area from the stage. Sugar sat her butt directly in front of the man and spread her legs open. She held her hand just above her pussy. On cue, the man put a dollar in his mouth and descended toward her exposed vagina. Sugar gratefully accepted the dollar and pivoted her hips away from the man.

Janice could hardly believe what Sugar was willing to do for a single dollar. Before tonight, Janice wouldn't have considered such a maneuver for a thousand dollars, let alone a single bill. Even if Janice had to work at this place for the next six months, she wasn't going to let that happen to her; she would never devalue herself in such a way.

"Let's give it up for Sugar," Ted said through the sound system as he faded the dancer's second song down. "Up next, we have a special treat for everyone. For this first time on this or on any stage, please welcome the lovely Paris."

The muscles in Janice's stomach clenched involuntarily and forced her head downward; she felt as though she was about to throw up. She gripped the edge of the table firmly to prevent her hands from shaking. The room started to fade as she grew lightheaded. "Don't faint," she thought to herself. "Not here. Not like this."

"Are you okay?" Harmony asked as she sat down at the table and wrapped her arm around Janice's back. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Janice looked around the club. She saw a couple of guys making their way toward the stage, no doubt excited for the prospect of unfamiliar flesh. She looked back at Brooke, who was standing in front of her booth with her arms folded over her chest.

"No," Janice said to Harmony after a long pause. "I'm all right. I'm doing this. I'm just a little nervous. That's all."

Janice stood up from the table and adjusted her yellow bikini ensuring her nipples and pussy were as concealed as the sheer fabric would permit. She chuckled at the irony considering what she was about to do. The placement of her bikini top was the least of her concern.

Janice slowly ascended the stairs to the stage. Sugar, who had to stay on the platform until the next dancer was in place, wished her successor good luck before exiting oval.

Janice slowly circled one of the two poles. About a dozen men surrounded the stage staring unapologetically at her barely covered body. The group was diverse. There were a couple of older businessmen who most likely had wives and families at home. There was a group of construction workers who seemingly didn't go home to shower before visiting the club, and a few frat-looking boys were chugging on a pitcher of beer. Janice didn't know any of these guys, but she was about to perform for them, to strip naked for them.

"Shake it," one of the frat boys yelled up at the stage; his friends followed suit with whistles and catcalls.

Even though Janice studied the previous performers, she wasn't sure exactly what to do. She wrapped both hands around the metal pole and slowly swayed her ass back and forth; the movement felt awkward and forced. She slid down the pole almost letting her ass touch the floor then hiked her ass back upward and pulled her body back up the pole.

A couple of the construction workers made their way to the chairs by the stage. They set dollar bills on the brass bar expectantly. Janice didn't want to approach the men; she certainly didn't want to press their faces into her boobs or spread her legs in front of them. Instead, she continued dancing by the pole.

"Put your hands together for Paris," the deejay said as he faded the first song out. "She's coming back at you one more time. Up next is Lacy."

As a vulgar rap single with a bruising baseline pounded through the speakers, Janice considered what was next. She glanced back across the club at her former college-mate as a look of vindication flooded Brooke's face. Janice realized how poorly she had treated Brooke over the years but had never imagined her victim would find revenge, at least not like this.

Down on the main floor, Harmony waved her hands at Janice. "Take it off," Harmony mouthed as she motioned for Janice to remove her top. "You have to take it off."

Over at the bar, Mitch stared at Janice. He fully expected his newest dancer to be naked by now.

Janice reached her hand behind her back and untied the bikini's strap. With as much seduction as possible, she held one arm over her tits and used the other to remove her top. Nervously, she twirled the bikini over her head for a few moments before letting it fall to the stage's polished black tile floor.

Janice grabbed the pole with her free hand and shook her ass mechanically; she wasn't about to look up at Mitch or Brooke, both of whom were probably pissed off with her stalling. Janice knew she had to continue with her strip show. For starters, that meant exposing her tits to the attentive crowd.

Nonchalantly, Janice released her large breasts and swung around the pole with her free arm extended into the air. She could feel the centrifugal force pulling her tits away from her body. The cool club air combined forces with the sweat running down her body and her heightened nerves to send shivers up and down her athletic frame.

Janice did her best to avoid eye contact with the growing group of guys around the stage. Dollars lined front row as the gentleman hoped for any form of contact their singles might afford them. She couldn't worry about the dollars right now; she still had to remove the tiny yellow bikini bottoms.

Janice positioned the narrow silver pole between her body and the least crowded side of the stage. She pulled the knot loose on one side of her hip letting the bikini drape from the other hip down the inside of her leg. Looking down, Janice could see her shaved pussy illuminated by multi-colored strobe lights. She quickly untied the other string letting her final piece of clothing fall to the floor beside her Christian Louboutin heels.

Janice fought the urge to crouch over and wrap her arms around her naked body. Even without looking at the crowd, she could feel their stares burning into her skin. Her pride, her dignity, and everything she thought she had become melted inside of her. She was completely exposed. She had woken up this morning a senior manager at a prestigious investment firm and was ending the day naked on stage begging for dollars.

Not sure what to do next, Janice spun around the pole more like a little girl on a playground than as a stripper. All Janice wanted was for the song to end, for the deejay to allow her off the stage.

"Hey, Paris," Harmony said from the first row of chairs. She was sitting next to one of the businessmen and waving a dollar in the air. "Come and get it."

The last thing Janice wanted to do was retrieve that dollar, but she was thankful that Harmony, rather than one of the perverts, would deliver her first tip.

Janice knelt at the stage in front of Harmony, who put the dollar in her month. Harmony dropped her face between the exposed tits while Janice wrapped her boobs around the bill. She had just accepted her first single and was now 99,999 dollars away from stripper retirement.

Before Janice could back away, the older businessman stepped in front of her with a dollar in his mouth. He removed his glasses before plunging into her bosom. She felt his whiskers scraping the sides of her breasts as she squeezed her tits around his face. She looked away and grimaced as the man twisted his head back and forth between her ample breasts. The man pulled back and reloaded his mouth with another dollar before diving back into her tits. Several guys formed a line behind the man hoping to find their own solace in her soft white flesh.

Just as one of the construction workers was about to tip Janice, the deejay faded the song down and announced Lacy as the next girl on stage. Janice apologized to the queue before retreating to the pole and scooping up her yellow bikini. Her hands shook so wildly that she could hardly tie the outfit's string behind her back.

"That was incredible," Harmony said as she greeted Janice at the stairway. "You're gonna do so well here." She gave Janice a huge hug and led the club's newest stripper to an empty table.

"Congratulations," Mitch said as he approached the table. "You're on the rotation. Harmony'll show you the ropes."

"Uh, thanks," Janice responded.

"Welcome to the team," Mitch said shaking Janice's hand.

Janice felt a strange sense of pride from her successful audition. This was the last thing she wanted to be good at, but she was never one to shrink from a challenge.

As Mitch walked away from the girls, Janice turned to Harmony looking for advice. "I need to make a lot of money, and I need to make it quickly," Janice said. "Tell me how."

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