Not stopping at underwear!

Lena froze, arms hovering uncertainly at her sides, her chest heaving under the half-lifted t-shirt. Heat pulsed through her, shame warring with the undeniable throb of arousal. Surely it stops at underwear, she told herself desperately. They wouldn’t really strip me all the way… would they?

But her hesitation said everything.

The model’s smirk sharpened. “Tsk. Bad girl.” her voice was soft but laced with command. “I told you—don’t make me take it.”

And she acted.

In one smooth motion, the model seized her wrists, yanking them high above her head. Lena's t-shirt slid upward helplessly, baring her bra completely, then peeling away over her face and arms. A quick toss, and the last piece of casual clothing was gone, discarded with the rest.

Lena gasped, her hazel eyes wide, her lean body now standing in nothing but her pale bra and thong, skin flushed a deep crimson under the bright studio lights. She tried to cross her arms over her chest, but the model caught her again, pulling her hands down with a firm grip.

“There you are,” the model whispered, circling her like a predator savoring the prize. Fingers brushed lightly across her bare stomach, up the smooth line of her ribs, pausing just beneath the swell of her bra. “You look better half-naked than I even imagined.”

Lena’s knees trembled, her lips parting with a shaky breath. The thrill was unbearable—humiliation, fear, heat, all twisting into something that had her thighs pressing tight together.

The model leaned close, lips brushing her temple. “And no, sweetheart…” she hooked a finger under the strap of her bra, tugging it once, playfully. “…we’re not stopping at underwear.”

Clothing Status

Lena: half-naked — Bra and thong still on.

Floor: Sweater, Jeans, sneakers, socks and t-shirt