A cheerleader costume

Perhaps unsurprisingly the strip club had a cheerleading outfit rather similar to that of the local high school. Waverly had used to wear it, she remembered, she’d been on the squad back when she’d been trying to compete with Wynonna.

She gravitated towards that, the obscenely short skirt, the crop top that left her midriff exposed, and of course the pompoms.

She tried to be grateful when she felt herself pull the top on. At least it covered more; don’t think about what it meant, about what was going to happen-

She wanted to yell out when she pulled her panties down, discarding them. She wore a bra, trading in her plane white one for something more jazzed up from the club, but she’d more happily do without that than do without panties when-

She stepped into the short skirt, struggling a little to pull it all the way up. It was so tight around her ass, and it felt like it hiked up enough to show everything just in the movement it took to take a step.

Finally, Waverly grabbed the blue and silver pompoms, fluttering them to herself. She glanced in the mirror, took in how positively slutty she looked now, posed, and blew her reflection a kiss.

Inside, Waverly felt like she was pounding on a brick wall. Nothing was changing, nothing was happening, no matter what she might want.

No matter how she resisted, Waverly found herself walking outside, her own body dragging her out to the club. A muttered word to the DJ, to pick Write My Story for her music, before she walked out to stage.

Somewhere they announced ‘Venus.’ Waverly barely paid attention, pleading with herself, deities, whatever it would take to regain control of her body.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to walk away, just that the impulses to do so seemed to fizzle out, to be replaced by it seemed whatever would most humiliate her.

The music started pounding, and Waverly Earp started to dance. It was a fast-paced routine, adapted from her cheerleader days. Shake the pompoms, arms out, arms in, jump…

Ok, she could bear this. It was awful, but she’d at least done it before. And-

She did a high kick, teasing the audience with a glimpse of her pussy. She heard cheers, and wanted to just curl up into a ball.

Still moving smoothly, she hooked her thumbs around the base of her top. She turned around, shaking her ass at the audience, bending over, and pushing her top up as she did.

She snapped up straight suddenly, and in doing so her top went flying off somewhere. She turned around, pompoms over her bra-clad boobs, shaking and fluttering tauntingly. Waverly prayed they’d stay in place, hoped it wouldn’t keep going.

And inevitably, her arms went to the side, slowly moving more and more until they were completely outstretched.

Impossibly, she felt herself grinning, felt whatever was controlling her body revel in the attention and exposure. Waverly just wanted to cry, all those eyes on her, and it felt like the song had barely started.

She’d done a similar dance before for Nicole, her girlfriend, but that one hadn’t been this. No stripping, no teasing, just a basic routine. That would have been bad enough to perform in public again, but now…

Her bra was the next to go, again turning around, shaking her ass, and concealing it with her pompoms. That time her movements were sudden, moving the pompoms to the side for a split-second, then back over her tits to conceal them again, teasing.

No, no, please no.

Another high kick, then a star-jump, arms raised like a V and showing off everything. She heard the cheers, felt the eyes like physical hands groping at her.

She knew what was next, the only thing that could be next. Waverly did everything she could to try and resist it, but nothing seemed to have the slightest effect. The more humiliated she felt, the harder it was to fight back.

She just wanted to curl up away somewhere and hide, get away from everyone that might see this show.

Instead she high-kicked, and bent over again, slapping her own ass and pushing up the skirt.

She shook it again, slowly moving to stand up straighter while she shook the pompoms. By the time she’d turned around she’d pushed the skirt in the opposite direction, stepping out of it and leaving it on the stage, after giving the audience a good long look at her ass.

She stood there in only pompoms, teasing by holding them in front of her, fluttering one over her tits and one over her cunt. At major beats of the song she switched them over, giving momentary glances.

Oh god, how had that become the preferable situation, protecting her decency with two pompoms of all things?

There had to be a minute of the song left. And then suddenly she was dancing freely, uninhibited, performing the same routine she had with the uniform on, except now flashing everything.

She posed, bent over, twirled, her body unconcerned by her nudity while her mind just wanted to cry.

At last the song came to an end. She could leave, she could get dressed, please could she just-

Instead, her body walked off the stage towards the audience, still gyrating to the replacement background music, grinning at people as though she wasn’t totally exposed to their eyes.