Germany loses, Evie has to dance

The game resumed with more at stake than ever. Sure, the bar had already seen her naked, was seeing her naked, but it was somewhat tasteful. At least it was hard to get good luck at her privates. Not so if she was standing on a table and dancing like she was the the star in a cabaret. Not only they would see everything all the time, but she would look like the biggest fool on the planet.

So, she sat there and prayed for victory. Evie nervously munched on a strand of her hair. She crossed her legs, one hand always behind her to try and cover the crack of her rump.

Every time Germany had the ball, Evie could feel her heart beating as if she was kissing her crush, and every time the Spaniards stole the ball, it sank back to the pits of her stomach.

In the end, the miracle never happened, Germany lost three to two, and a crestfallen Evie slumped on the table. Amanda put a reassuring hand on her shoulders, but the glint in her eyes indicated that she was also looking forward to what came next.

“Uuuugggghhhhhhhh!” Evie groaned in disbelief. “Why, Germany? I cheered for you, I trusted you…”

“Is your friend going to be ok?”

“Just give her a minute. Hey, Evie, want to get this over with?”

“Uuugggghhhhhh. Fine. A bet is a bet,” Moving with all the grace of a drunk sloth, Evie climbed on the chair before stepping onto the bar. At least the wood felt clean under her feet, unlike the sticky floor. The only silver lining Evie could find in the dreadful situation.

Evie stood with her shoulders slumped, her arms hung next to her body as if her hands were heavier than boulders. She didn’t even bother to cover her lovely pink “tetas”, despite how many people were so keen to point at them.

“So…? Start the music…” They did. The official anthem of the Spanish team blared out of the speakers. “Argh, really?” Evie swung her hips to the melody, shuffling her legs lazily, her hands halfheartedly moving left and right.

Then the song ended, but another began. “Dale don Dale”, “Macarena”, “Perro fiel” were among the many songs she had to dance to, along with some electronic music sprinkled here and there in the playlist. Evie had to move faster. Her chest wasn't big enough to “bounce”, but her puffy nipples were jiggling like jelly.

To her credit, Evie did try to match her movements to the song, and she never stopped dancing. Not when people started clapping along with the music, not when she noticed the cellphones not so discreetly recording her… although she did kick Amanda's phone out of her hands when she had the chance. The nerve of her supposed friend to film her from under her legs!

Her whole face felt on fire. Everything above her shoulders was as red as the crest of the Spanish flag. Her skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, it was quite the workout. To think she had been reduced to little more than the club's stripper. A stupid girl to be mocked by and ridiculed for daring to face the might of Spain.

Asking that none of the videos reach the internet was perhaps a bit naïve, but Evie prayed that they at least won't reach her office or neighbors. Nekkid Evie was a nickname she hoped she could leave behind for good. At least she was liable to avoid it so long as she never returned to the bar where everyone knew her tits.

Finally, the TVs flickered to life once more. After more than an hour of dancing, the next match was about to start. The wage was paid in full. Evie collapsed in a sweaty mess on the wood, not even climbing down from the bar. Her chest heaved up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. When the bartender offered her a courtesy drink, she drank it like it was the last oasis in the desert.