No.

“Oh love, I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun.” She smiled cheekily at Roslyn, tucked the dress into a large handbag, and pocketed Roslyn’s panties. As she got up from the table with all her winnings she patted Roslyn on her bare shoulder. “I’d hate to rob you of your excuse to play out this fantasy of yours.” She snickered as she walked off which was met with chuckles from across the room behind Roslyn.

‘My fantasy?!’ Roslyn’s bewilderment spread across her face as her cheeks flushed red. ‘Do they think I want this?’ Her humiliation deepened as she imagined how she was being perceived: as some depraved exhibitionist who got off on being laid bare. As though she desired the eyes plying across every inch of exposed skin. She folded over more tightly and clutched her crotch and breasts against herself. She hoped her body language made it clear she was not the orchestrator of her humiliation, but she could not deny that she had allowed it. Roslyn had felt the snare that had robbed her of her outfit close around her so expertly that she never really felt like she was making a decision. Yet with greater presence of mind she could easily have avoided letting the Man in Green strip her down to her shoes. It would have only cost Daniel fifty dollars and yet she felt unable to resist the flow of events that left her naked. Surely the spectators all understood Roslyn was **** to win back her clothes and escape this nightmare. But all they truly knew was that a naked woman was at a poker table. Roslyn watched helplessly as her entire outfit she had worn on arrival escaped the table never to return. Her skin prickled, as if to remind her that it was all she had left.

With a seat at this lucrative table now vacant, a clamor of people rushed in to take her place. A much younger woman, perhaps only 20, with thick eyeliner and determined expression claimed the seat. She studied Roslyn’s form unkindly. Roslyn felt her profile examined, and shifted her hands around her crotch and nipples to be sure the new woman wasn’t getting an eyeful much more gainful than what Roslyn would happily show off at the beach. The woman’s eyes focused in on Roslyn’s small belly bulge, which had folded in two placed due to her crouched posture. As the woman’s eyes darted to a few of the freckles and moles dotting her body, she became more precisely embarrassed of these blemishes than she had been of the generalized humiliation of her predicament. The injustice of this judgemental gaze grated on Roslyn. Underneath the floral summer dress, and the foundation of this young woman was a body with its own imperfections and fault lines. Only one of them had the means to chart the insecurities of the other.

Roslyn felt even more humbled by how much younger this woman was. Roslyn was 27 and less than three months from completing a PhD. She would gain the title of Doctor. This florally dressed woman was younger than Roslyn’s students. Roslyn’s future at the table had devoured any considerations for what came after, but if the morning ever came she would be in a laboratory full of Masters students she would be instructing. Students she considered young, but still more mature than the woman who know judged her for her body. None of Roslyn’s respectable achievements in the lab mattered here. To the woman scanning her, she was just a deviant with an imperfect body. Her rich knowledge of embryology and zebrafish were peripheral facts, obscured by the more material information about her breast shape and the curve of her waist available to each onlooker.

After a long silence the young woman brushed aside a lock of her black hair and declared to the table.

“I won’t be bidding with my clothes,” she gave Roslyn a steely glance that made her feel as though her indecency was a moral failing on her part. It was not enough to feel exposed, she was also to feel morally responsible.

As she gripped herself tightly to cover her shame Roslyn felt her nipples poke into the flesh of her arm. They were hardened by the cool metal of the table, and perhaps partially from some of the emotions swirling within her. If she moved her arms at all, the young woman would have more ammunition to support her preconception of Roslyn.

This distraction of the new player had been a reprieve from what Roslyn knew must come next. Daniel was demonstrably out of anything to bid with. The only choice he had left was to retire, or be **** to leave. And with Daniel gone so too would Roslyn’s seat be forfeit. She shuddered as she prepared for the prompt. She would need to stand up and walk away from the table rid of any modesty. She didn’t even know where she could go. Would she move slowly or run for cover? Where could she even run? There was nowhere to hide. Could she leave the casino like this? If she stepped outside in nothing but her boots her state would go from being objectionable to criminal. Her predicament seemed impossible.

She waited for the words that would evict her from the small security her seat at the table provided. The Man in Green addressed the table again. Each time he spoke Roslyn’s predicament grew worse and she quivered at the sound of his voice. While his voice reverberated through her she felt a warmness spread between her legs. The tactile sensations of the leather stool on her pussy grew more intense and she tried to mentally retreat from this new distraction.