No catch at first, but then the guys decide to play a game centering around you

"I raise you...."

"I fold..."

"Damn, you had..."

The boys' voices drift to your red ears as they play, along with various comments about your anatomy.

"Goddamn, would you look at that one? Copy that one..."

"I'm copying them all," one of them mutters, puzzling you.

"Hey, I've got a new game idea."

"What's wrong with this one?"

"Well, this one helps both us and pussy.... I mean, Jenny. Sorry Jenny, it's just so hard to remember that you're not just a pussy when all we're seeing is your wet cunt."

You wince at his words, but hold still with determination, refusing to admit that the moisture between your legs isn't just sweat from holding your position.

"So what's the plan?"

"Remember that game where you try to bounce coins into a cup?"

"Uh, yeah.... It's a drinking game isn't it?"

"I suppose, but in this case we're not using a cup, we're using Jenny."

"Huh?" you reply along with the guys.

Paul smiles mischeviously, making you wonder what he has planned. "Hey, you have a stool or something short we could borrow? Something a little bit sturdy."

The laundromat owner looks around, shrugs, and picks up a plastic laundry basket. "Someone left this. It's just plastic, but..."

"Great. I bet Jenny doesn't weigh that much anyway."

"Me?" you squeak.

"Yeah. Here, let's slide this under you," Paul says, putting the old laundry basket beside you. To his delight it's the perfect height, and slides under you with an inch to spare.

"Alright, now here's the game: Instead of a cup we're trying to get the coins into Jenny's cunt or asshole."

"What?" you squawk, twisting your body to look back at the boys. Their eyes have all fastened on your hind-quarters, but paul has come up to you and rests his hand on your butt. You tense, but hold still, remembering their threat to not let you have your clothes back.

"That's right. You get a point if you get a coin in here," he says, plunging a finger into your pussy. "Or here," he says, prodding your rear orifice.

"I don't see how we're gonna get any in there," the guys reply doubtfully.

"Jenny, relax," Paul urges, his fingers pressing inward on your holes.

"Maybe she should work them a bit herself. Get a good gape going."

"I... I'm not..." you protest breathlessly.

"You'll get to keep the coins. That way you can pay us back and we'll let you have your clothes," Paul wheedles, popping a finger past your rectum, and sliding the other knuckles deep into your strangely excited pussy.

"Keep...?" you gasp, eyes lighting up at the thought. You can make some money so you can pay them for your clothes. Something about that doesn't seem right, but Paul's fingers are making it hard to think.