Breaking out of the cuffs

The handcuffs were only a cheap prop, right? They couldn’t be too tough. She’d faced down revenants, she could deal with a flimsy chain, surely.

Waverly squirmed, flushing red, suddenly hyperaware of each movement of her body.

It was rare she had much pressed against her bare skin, but she could feel the cool of the metal pole, the solid stage thrumming slightly from the loud pound of the music, and she could feel the air running over every inch of her.

And worse than any of that, she could feel eyes. She didn’t want to think about how many people were in the club, how many had seen her twist and strip on stage, and were now crowding closer to get a proper look.

She wriggled, flushing as she leant forwards to pull on the cuffs. She thrust her chest out towards the audience, felt them shake and almost felt the imaginings of the crowd.

Afraid she’d lose control again, she moved faster, desperately embarrassed by how it made her look, but needing to be free as soon as possible.

“That’s it girlie, work it.”

“N-no, I’m not-” Waverly said, voice high-pitched. She blushed deeper, shrinking back as a hand reached out.

She curled up, seated on the stage and pulling her legs up in a vague attempt to cover herself. It made it impossible to get a good angle for leverage against the cuffs, but at least there weren’t more eyes on her most private parts.

And it was useless. She squirmed, whimpering, knowing it would be useless to beg.

Damn that… whatever it was, that thing that had made her strip for the club, but had opted to handcuff her to the pole and claim that she was going to play prisoner.

Whatever she did, they’d think it was part of the act.

Her only hope was to get herself free. If there even was a key for those cuffs she didn’t have it, so this was her best bet.

Nothing. She felt them strain a little, but nothing of any significance happened. Waverly bit her lip.

There was only one thing to do.

**** back a sob of humiliation, Waverly made herself stand up. She leant forwards, looking almost like she was begging the audience to come grope her, her cunt on full display; she could hardly use her hands to cover herself.

Her feet set against the stage, she at least had more ****, more strength. The flimsy cuffs strained, and Waverly blushed, well aware of just how many people could see her.

Her boobs jiggled, and her gasps of exertion looked like innuendo; and there was nothing she could do for even a pretence of modesty. And then-

Snap! Waverly gasped in relief, then toppled forwards as she overbalanced herself. The chain broke, even if the cuffs were still around her wrist. She could move her hands.

She didn’t move them in time to stop her fall though. She fell off the stage, displaying her ass yet again to the paying masses, whimpering in humiliation. But at least she could scramble to her feet, at least she could cover herself with her arms, even if she couldn’t hide her pussy, tits and ass all at once.

Now just to find wherever her clothes were.