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The Do Not Enter Room Part 3

maryallison

TMF Novice
Joined
Feb 22, 2006
Messages
74
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As the door opened, my hands were suddenly set free from the contraints of the bungee cord. The black straps were still around my wrists, keeping them together, but my arms now fell in front of me. I was free. I looked out the door and there was my shirt, still on the floor, but now my bra and jeans were also lying next to it. All my clothes were in the hall. I took a step to the door, and Mark flicked the feather duster against the back of my thighs. I jumped, so he flicked it again, and I had to step closer to the door to escape. My flip flops came off. My barefeet slipped against the wooden floor, and my hands were still strapped together, so I fell halfway out the door. I was at the border of safety and exposure. But there were my clothes a foot away, and when I reached for them, they moved.
What?
My jeans went first, pulled by some invisible string or fishing line, I guess, and as I watched it go, my shirt followed it. I had to act. I stepped into the lit hallway, and by now my jeans and shirt and bra - all tied to each other - slithered away from the door and down the hall. I stepped back into the doorway.
"Awww, you did it again," Paul said. He shook his head.
"Did what?" I asked.
"You entered the Do Not Enter room."
"I just stepped out for a second."
"Sorry, you know the rules."
"But my clothes are out there!"
Paul nodded. "Yes, they are." He looked down the hall. "What are your clothes doing at the top of the stairs?"
I poked my head out, and, sure enough, the pile of jeans and shirt and bra were crumpled at the stairwell, like a rock about to fall off a cliff.
"Of course, there is one more item you could trade..." Mark said, glancing at my panties.
I stepped out the door, then ran down the hall as fast as I could without slipping with a crash. My tied up wrists were useless for balance. Just as I got to the stairs I saw a guy duck around the corner of the stairwell at the bottom and my jeans dropped down a step. I stopped. I knelt down and reached for my bra, and just as I got it in my fingers the jeans and shirt jumped down a few more steps and my bra flew out of my hand. I looked back, and Mark and paul stepped out of the Do Not Enter room. They shut the door. I put one foot on the next step, and reached, but the tied up clothes simply skipped down two more steps. I took another step, and another, but of course my clothes scampered down the steps until they were almost at the bottom. I stopped. I waited. There were voices in the room below, maybe not as many as before, and there was no cheering and no laughter from an overeager sorority pledge. Were there any female voices at all? Was I trapped?
As long as I stayed still, my clothes did, too, but I could not wait forever. I tip toed as softly as I could down three more steps, still sitting, sliding my butt down the steps until my toes were just that close to my bra and I could reeeaaach it, but the clothes pile wiggled, a little. The clothes were not thinking. Whoever was on the other end of that fishing line could see whatever I was doing, and when I strained my neck and looked downstairs the same guy's head hid behind a couch in the empty front room. Voices rose in the back room, which I could not see. Time was running out. I stood up and raced for my clothes, but they just as quickly disappeared into the main hall and front room, and when I followed them around a couch my tormentor had run into the kitchen, pulling my clothes behind, and now I was in a house full of sorority guys, in their front room, all alone, and almost naked. I could open the front door and run through campus to my dorm, but of course my ID card was in my jeans, and who would let me in this late at night? I turned back to the kitchen, but now my clothes had disappeared entirely, and voices rose from the back room. What could I do? I summoned up as much courage as I could and casually walked into the largest room, the play room, where a dozen guys were standing around my crumpled pile of clothes.
I kept my tied wrists up, covering my breasts, past a couch with many plastic cups, all fringed with beer froth. I stepped past one guy, and another, and I did not need to look behind me to sense that they were surrounding me. I reached down for my clothes, but just that fast a pool stick came from one side and slid between my arms. In that instant I hesitated to watch it run past me two guys pulled it up over my head, and oohhhh, my hands had to follow. Each guy was taller than me, of course, so it took little effort for them to hold the pool stick above them, forcing me to keep my arms up, almost on tip toe. Now a new group of fingers brushed against my ribs and tummy, and that familiar feather duster soon appeared between my thighs, and an audience of men took turns making me beg and gasp and flinch, all on display. They led the pool stick (and me) closer to the balcony - where that other girl had been flashing cars - and soon I was outside, the breeze brushing against any part of my skin that was not being tickled, and, even though the balcony was too small to hold more than a couple of frat guys, I wished I was back in the main room with all of them. Soon a guy walked by on the sidewalk below, and watched my ordeal, and of course he started waving and calling to any guy on fraternity row, so I soon had ten strangers watching on the sidewalk, and ten more watching from inside, and soon enough I saw Mark and Paul in the crowd below, carrying my clothes, and placing them ever so gingerly on the grass.
"Like we said, there is one thing left to trade." Mark smiled.
Paul picked up my clothes, and made a motion to throw them up to the balcony, up where I could finally get dressed again, but the price was obvious. I shook my head. Paul shrugged, and turned to the eager crowd of guys, who each held out his hands for my jeans or shirt or bra.
"Wait!"
Paul turned to me, and offered my clothes once more, and the feather duster came around from behind me, to my almost forgottewn breasts. The feathers flicked again across my nipples, and I stammered out my answer.
"Y-y-yesss," I whimpered, as a pair of unseen hands slowly pulled my panties away.
 
Bravo.

This is the best story I have read in quite some time. Eagerly looking foward to part four! :D
 
incredibly sexy story, I can imagine exactly what that would feel like, hehe... nice job, very enjoyable, looking forward to part four, etc :)
 
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