You're in a VIP room. And you're the entertainment

“See?” the girl in the bachelorette sash says. “I told you he was a stripper.”

You’ve been dragged to one of the VIP rooms back stage. And, sure enough, the occupants were the same bachelorette party that you had bumped into twice that same day.

“Oh my god! It’s the guy we saw trying to cover his dick with a brochure!” another girl said.

“Then we saw him lose his towel!”

“But I think this is my favorite outfit of his, yet!”

“Grab onto the pole, muscles!” the bachelorette said, pointing at the stripper pole in the center of the room. “Let’s finally see you with no outfit at all!”

“Look, uh, ladies,” you say. “There’s actually been a misunderstanding here.”

“I don’t think so!” a pinch from one of the girls sends you skittering across the room and you bump into the pole. “That blonde in the red dress told us that she had paid for us to get a private dance. So get dancing!”

“A blonde in a red....” you swear under your breath as you realize that Bianca had set you up for this.

The bachelorette sneaks up behind you, then loops her sash around your waist and pulls you closer to her. You spin away from her and fall to the ground, still tangled in the sash. You stumble to your feet and make your way out the door. The girls follow you until you’re all standing backstage. You slowly backpedal away from them and try to explain yourself, but they continue to walk closer to you.

The half-dozen girls are all cat-calling you and ogling your body, but you catch a glimpse of another person behind them. Bianca has just walked out of another VIP room, and she is leaning against the hallway and waving at you. She had set you up to perform for these women, and she was going to enjoy watching you squirm as you try to get out of it.

Suddenly, you realize you’re still tangled in the bachelorette sash and you finally manage to kick it off and stumble away. You bump your elbow into a small control console as you do so. Machinery begins to whir behind you. Before you even realize what’s happening, something hooks the back of your speedo.

“What the hell is-“ you turn around, and your jaw drops.

You’ve activated the conveyer belt that brings dancers to the front of the stage. And a loose end of the railing has hooked the back of your speedo. You’re being dragged to the main stage.

The laughter of the women grows even louder as they see the panic on your face. You reach for the conveyer belt, wondering what button to hit. Before you can decide, you almost lose your balance and have to stumble away. You lunge out with a hand to hit any button in the hopes that it might save you, but your fingers fall short.

You look back and try to release the speedo from the railing, but it’s no use. It’s too tangled. Your eyes bulge as you realize that there is only one way to save yourself from ending up on that stage. The bachelorette party has clearly come to the same realization. Their faces are fixed in anticipation. To your horror, you see that some of them have their cellphones out.

Just before you are dragged to the curtain, you pass another metal railing, but this one is stationary and not attached to the belt. You grab onto it with one hand, **** to buy yourself time to think of a way out of this. The conveyer belt slows as you give it resistance, but it continues to pull.

You feel your feet start to slip off the ground. You grab onto the railing with both hands as the conveyer belt pulls your speedo tighter and tighter. The women out on the dance floor have seen the stripper pole appear on stage and begin to call out asking where their dancer is. You were just a few inches away from the curtain, and the humiliating thought of being dragged out before that crowd inspires you to tighten your grip. The veins bulge in your muscular arms as you try to stay in place. The girls cheer when the conveyer belt lifts your feet off the ground. You're practically horizontal, holding on for dear life. You look over your shoulder and see your only article of clothing being stretched further and further away from you. You try to find a way out of this, but all you can focus on is the commentary of the bachelorette party.

"Look at the muscles on him! I'm pretty sure he's going to break the conveyer belt."

"I think that little swimsuit of his is going to break first!"

"Oh my god that speedo is stretched tighter than a rubber band! I can already see that firm butt."

"I'm already taking a video. I think in a second we'll be seeing EVEN more of him!"

You look past the bachelorette party and your eyes rest on Bianca. She has had plenty of opportunities to humiliate you today and whenever it happened, she had always just watched you with a soft smile. Her face was different now. She looked at you with intense focus while softly biting her lip. Her breasts swelled against her revealing dress as she breathed heavily. Something about this particular humiliation was driving her wild.

Suddenly, you hear a quiet ripping sound. The women gasp. They heard it, too. Then there’s a loud ripping sound, and you’re tumbling over the railing before you.

You lie on your back, disoriented by the fall you just took. But it doesn't take long for you to hear the sound of the bachelorette party's laughter. Your eyes shoot open. The group of smoking hot women stands above you. Some have their phones out. Some are laughing. But all of their attention is focused in one particular place.

You follow their gaze and slowly look down. Your speedo is gone. You are lying on the ground without a scrap of clothing on you.

Even as the laughter and cat calls grow louder, you remain frozen in place. Being seen in that speedo by so many chicks had been utterly humiliating. But now you were completely exposed in front of a group of hot, fully-clothed women. Somehow, despite everything that had happened today, you had reached a new high point of embarrassment.

At last you snap out of your trance when one of the phones flashes. The bachelorette puts a hand on her hip and says, “Now, this was worth the wait!"

You stumble to your feet and finally cover your dick with your hands. You desperately look in every direction for something to cover up with, but you can barely focus over the sound of the cat calls. You spot the remains of the bachelorette sash on the ground and try to wrap it around your body. The woman laugh as you get your feet tangled and you fall to the ground again, ripping your only cover to shreds.

At last, you give up on finding anything to cover yourself with and take off running down the first hallway you see. You're running blind, not even covering yourself with your hands, but at least the hallway is empty (for now). It leads you down a flight of stairs to a set of double doors. You grab them and pull them open without even thinking.

“Oh shit!” you say when you realize that the doors lead outside. There is still a line of women trying to get into the club. Their conversation comes to an abrupt halt as they see you completely naked with both your arms holding the doors open. Before you can even comprehend the number of women who have now seen you naked, another woman across the street catches your attention. It's a policewoman, and she happened to be walking on the other side of the street just as you burst into public. She looks over and, after her eyes run up and down your body, she approaches.

You backpedal into the club and slam the doors shut. You see the door handle turning and you throw your back against the doors to keep them closed. You don’t know if it’s the club girls or the policewoman trying to get to you, but either way, you DO NOT want these doors to open.

As you lean against the door, struggling to keep your footing, you take stock of your situation. You have no phone and no wallet. You have no idea how to get back to your villa. And, above all, you don’t have any clothes.

As you realize this, you hear a pair of high heels approaching from down the hall. They move slowly. The owner is in no rush. She gradually starts to appear in front of you as she descends the staircase. First a set of red high heels. Then a pair of tanned, firm legs. Then a skin tight red dress. Then flowing locks of curled blond hair. She walks until she is within a foot of you. You are stuck in place against the door, unable to run or even cover yourself with your hands.

“Buonasera, Sam,” Bianca says.