"The dance game."

(chapter originally by Phantom Pen at writing.com)

Mackenzie felt her body flush with heat at Rosalyn's words. The redhead knew it was too hopeful to think the other woman would pick a game that would afford Mackenzie some sense of modesty, and the dance game was the option that would **** Mackenzie to display herself more than any other.

There was, however, one silver lining. What Rosalyn didn't know was that Mackenzie was a talented dancer, having taken lessons from a young age and dancing for fun and even in a few small competitions. Simply put, Mackenzie was more than capable of dominating a game such as this. Of course, that was the norm when she was confident, calm, and not stark naked in front of an audience.

"So, double or nothing." Rosalyn mused as she took her spot on the dance pad next to Mackenzie's. "When I win, you have to do your forfeit, and... I keep your clothes." a mischievous grin spread across Rosalyn's face. "Should make your walk home interesting. Now, if you somehow manage to win, I have to strip and you choose a forfeit for me. If we tie... hm..."

"How about, if we tie... the crowd gets to decide what we do?" Mackenzie asked, hardly believing her own words. "That's the fairest thing, I think."

"You want to risk being at their mercy? Alright, it's your funeral, bouncy." Rosalyn teased. "Now get ready for a thrashing."

The game started, the music began to play, and both women focused on the commands in front of them. Neither wanted to lose, or even tie. Nothing short of crushing victory was on both of their minds.

In the end, as the final notes of the song began to play, the outcome became apparent.