Less clothes, more skin

Allison’s gaze, now softened by the warm haze of her own release, drifted lazily across the circle of half-dressed girls. Her eyes lingered on the various fabrics straining and cupping their breasts—lace, cotton, satin. A slow, possessive smile curved her lips.

“You know,” she mused, her voice a low, contented rumble that commanded attention even in its relaxation. “I don’t think we’re quite comfortable enough.” Her hand, which had been idly stroking Suki’s hair, stilled. Her eyes landed on Anita, who was slowly getting to her feet, her body still humming from the spanking. “Anita. Come here.”

There was no sharpness in the command now, only a gentle, undeniable authority. Anita, her earlier defiance completely extinguished, moved forward without hesitation. A new, curious submission had taken root in her dark eyes. She knelt before Allison, waiting.

“I want to see them,” Allison said, her tone almost conversational, as if remarking on the weather. “All of them. Their bras. Off.” She gestured with her chin towards Cathy, Sam, Erica, and Jo. “And you’re going to do it for me.”

Anita’s eyebrows lifted slightly, a silent question in her eyes.

Allison’s smile widened. “Rules. You don’t stand up. And you don’t use your hands.” She let the challenge hang in the air, not as a punishment, but as a test—a way to further cement Anita’s new, pleasurable role. “Use that clever mouth of yours. The one that was so bold earlier. Show me how useful it can be when it’s being good.”

A shiver, this one not entirely of shame, ran through Anita. She nodded, a slow, deliberate dip of her chin. The corner of her mouth twitched. The challenge was absurd, humiliating… and incredibly arousing. She turned on her knees to face the others, her audience.

Her first target was Cathy, who was closest. The blonde American blushed a deep rose, her wide blue eyes unsure but excited. “Oh… okay,” Cathy breathed, shifting forward to make herself more accessible, her full, round breasts swelling over the top of her lacy white bra.

Anita shuffled closer on her knees. She nuzzled first at the soft valley of Cathy’s cleavage, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla lotion. This wasn’t just a task; it was an exploration. She used her nose and chin to nudge the delicate lace, trying to find the front clasp. It was tricky, fiddly. She could feel Cathy’s heart hammering against her cheek.

Finally, her teeth found the small, central hook. She gripped it gently, worrying it with her incisors. Cathy held her breath, her body tense. With a soft snick, the clasp gave way. The bra loosened its embrace. Anita used her face to push the straps down Cathy’s shoulders, her lips and nose brushing against the incredibly soft, sun-kissed skin. The bra fell away, and Cathy’s plump, heavy C-cups spilled free, her perky pink nipples hardening instantly in the cool air. A soft, grateful sigh escaped Cathy’s lips.

“Good girl,” Allison purred from her throne, her approval washing over Anita like warm water.

Emboldened, Anita turned to the twins. Sam and Erica were already giggling, a shared look of wicked anticipation passing between them. They presented themselves in unison, leaning forward, their freckled chests offered up.

Sam’s red lace bralette had a clasp at the back. This required a different approach. Anita had to maneuver herself behind Sam, her face pressed against the twin’s slender back. She located the clasp by feel, her tongue darting out to wet her lips before she carefully took the fabric between her teeth. She had to tug and twist her head, her neck straining with the effort. Sam giggled, squirming at the feel of Anita’s hot breath and the scrape of teeth on her spine. With a final, determined pull, the clasp came undone. Anita dragged the bralette down Sam’s arms with her teeth, revealing small, pert breasts with soft pink nipples.

Erica was next, her black lace number identical but for the color. Anita was getting the hang of it now. She made quicker work of the back clasp, her movements more confident. As the black lace fell away, revealing Erica’s mirror-image breasts, Anita couldn’t resist. She dipped her head and drew her tongue in a quick, flat stripe up the center of Erica’s pale torso, from her navel to her sternum. Erica gasped, her back arching, a burst of laughter mixed with surprise.

“Cheeky,” Allison commented, her voice rich with amusement.

Finally, Anita turned to Jo. The blind girl sat perfectly still, a serene smile on her face. Her simple white cotton bra had a front clasp, much like Cathy’s, but it was less delicate. Anita approached her slowly, almost reverently. She pressed her face against Jo’s small, cool breast, hearing the quickening beat of the girl’s heart. She found the clasp easily and undid it with a soft click of her teeth.

But as the bra fell open, instead of immediately pulling away, Anita paused. She nuzzled the soft, pale skin of Jo’s A-cup breast, her lips closing gently around the already-stiff pink nipple. She suckled softly, just for a second, a silent apology and a blessing all in one. Jo’s breath hitched, her head tilting back as a soft, shuddering moan escaped her. It was an act of unexpected tenderness amidst the depravity.

Anita pulled back, the task complete. She shuffled back to her place before Allison, her lips slightly swollen, her breathing a little ragged. Four bras lay discarded on the floor around the circle. Four pairs of bare breasts were now on display, nipples pebbled, skin flushed. The room smelled of perfume, sweat, and the faint, metallic hint of her own saliva.

She looked up at Allison, not with shame, but with a question. A plea for approval.

Allison reached out, her fingers under Anita’s chin, tilting her face up. Her thumb stroked Anita’s lower lip. “You,” she said, her voice thick with genuine admiration, “are a natural.” The praise was everything. Anita’s chest swelled with a strange, submissive pride.