Nice Nurse Coerced To Wrestle Nude

After letting this humiliating scene go on for longer than necessary, the referee came over to inspect me to see if every part was covered in oil as required. He told me to stand up with my hands in the air and turn around slowly in the pool, which I did to the hoots and whistles of the audience. The referee ran his hands up and down every part of my body lingering for quite a while over my breasts and pubic area. He then slapped my rear, wiped his hands in a towel, held Wanda’s arm up, and declared her the winner.

Wanda received a bathrobe, a towel and $300 cash. I was given nothing. Wanda ordered me to start dancing while the men filed past the pool to give her tips. After I wiggled my nude and oiled body to the music and turned and posed as ordered by the men for a while, Wanda turned and yelled, “Hey Nipples, I think you missed your pussy.” I protested weakly that I hadn’t, but she made a threatening lunge at me and I quickly knelt down in the pool, scooped up the oil in my hand and began rubbing in my pubic hair. “Is this OK?” I asked pathetically. When the men in line finished laughing they asked Wanda to make me continue until I came. She was happy to oblige in exchange for more tips. As I kept rubbing the oil in this area I was getting close to giving them the show they wanted, in fact I was even moaning a bit, but the referee kept the line moving and fortunately by this time the end of the line was near.

As the last of the men approached Wanda, I started to get on my feet again. I looked down to keep from slipping in the oil and as I did these last guys pulled out a toy bucket, filled it with oil from the pool, and dumped it on my head. The oil ran over my oil drenched hair and soaked into my eyes. I instinctively put my hands up about shoulder high, and howled in shock. The guys roared with laughter and identified themselves as my email acquaintances, but my eyes were stinging and everything was too blurry for me to see. As I kept blowing out the oil that was dripping into my mouth, they made “humorous” comments about how nice it was to finally see me --- to seeall of me --so nicely exposed. The music stopped shortly after they had “introduced” themselves and the spotlights began to pop off one by one. The referee told the men it was time to leave. One of them rubbed his hand back and forth between my legs and then slid both hands across my sides and stomach and up to my breasts. Squeezing both breasts as tightly as he could and shaking them he said, “Nipples, you were born to be used like this.”

With that my email acquaintances walked away laughing. My opponent went off to her locker room with a bucket load of cash. The referee gave me a towel and told me that my $100 fee was waiting for me in my dressing room. I slid and sometimes slipped and crawled through the dimly lit hall to my dressing room, thoroughly humiliated but strangely excited, and then showered and changed. I got into the waiting limo and as it drove me home I kept debating in my mind whether or not there was more truth in the parting remark of my email acquaintance than I wanted to admit. I am still wondering about that even as I write this.