Amanda spotted her stage prop entangled in the stockings just as they left her
hand. With an amazing display of agility she surged up, snagged the end of the
stocking and snapped it down like a whip. It was unfortunate that she'd extended
her leg to grab the stocking, as the stem of the rose slammed into her inner
thigh, the thorns piercing her skin. The stocking continued so snap around her
shapely thigh, circling her leg twice before the elasticity ran out and it
jerked backward in contraction.
It was bad enough that the thorns had pierced her skin, it was even worse when
the wrapping of the stocking pressed them deeper, but it was downright painful
when the stocking reached its limit and tried to unravel.
The crowd's enthusiastic cheers drowned out her cries of pain, even when she jerked at the end of the stocking in her hand. All that did was drag it an inch up towards her pussy.
Flummoxed by the situation she smiled at the audience like it was part of the act and they seemed to grasp the meaning immediately. Instead of the usual boring garter with a gold ribbon to indicate sexual availability in the back room she'd made one more appropriate to her masochistic preferences.
Hands started shooting up with bills, luring her back to the edge of the stage, undulating down into a crouch before one fellow, who held handed her a rose. With a blank look on her face she accepted it, followed by the bill he jammed under the stocking.
"How much to put it in your cleavage?" he yelled over the noise.
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