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But Carlinda took one look at my panties and the expression on her face froze.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Excuse me for a moment.”
Before I could say anything, the woman disappeared into a door in the wall. I swear, there hadn’t been a door a moment earlier, but she pressed something, and suddenly a slot opened and she was gone.
Great. Now what? I stood in nothing but a pair of panties in a featureless white room. What was going on?
But soon Carlinda appeared again, this time bearing a silver platter.
“Here,” she said smoothly. “Please put these on these instead.”
I blinked because there was something on the platter, but it wasn’t more than the tiniest scrap of lace. Literally not more than two strings connected together with a tiny piece of fabric laced in between them.
“You must be kidding,” I breathed, staring at the tiny red cloth. “Who wears lingerie like that?”
Carlinda’s expression brooked no nonsense.
“You,” she said firmly. “And all the other girls who wrestle.”
With disbelieving fingers, I plucked the cloth from the platter.
“This?” I asked. “This is a postage stamp at best!”
Postage stamp wasn’t a metaphor. There couldn’t have been more than one square inch of material strung between two flimsy ties.
But Carlinda’s expression remained expressionless.
“Please put it on,” she said with a frozen smile. “And then we’ll proceed to the ring.”
I shook my head, contemplating my options. On the one hand, I could refuse and go home. I’d probably never see Shaft again, which meant that I’d descend into depression and my life would be ruined. Not to mention I’d lose my trust fund.
Or, I could put on this scrap of nothing and let myself go with the flow. This way, I’d feel Shaft’s hard cock in my pussy, the man’s penis jerking and twitching as he pumped his virile goodness into me. I could finally count myself as a woman, instead of a dumpy, awkward girl forced to go to the gym by her stepmom.
The choice was clear. With trembling hands, I stripped my tanga off and slowly stepped into the g-string. Oh god, it was so small. The postage stamp barely covered my clit, vag lips puffing out around the sides. And there was nothing but a string between my butt cheeks, disappearing into my crack before reappearing at waist level and connecting to another string around my hips.
Oh god. This was really happening, and yet I wanted it. I wanted Shaft to see me like this, and to lose control in front of others. I wanted him to be so big and horny that he couldn’t control his actions, burrowing that hot cock into my folds until I screamed.
So I took a deep breath and looked Carlinda in the eye.
“I’m ready,” came my tight voice.
She smiled like a Cheshire cat.
“Of course,” the woman said smoothly. “Put these on please, and then I’ll take you to the ring.”
Somehow, from somewhere, a pair of red stilettos had appeared, sky high and precarious.
“I’m going to wear those while wrestling?” I asked disbelievingly. “How does that work?”
Carlinda’s face was as smooth as a stone.
“You’ll be allowed to take them off once inside the ring,” she said. “But you’ll need these for the walk. It’s good marketing,” she said. “You’ll see.”
My head spinning, slowly I put them on. Everything felt different once the stilettos sheathed my feet. I was five inches taller for one. Not only that, but the heels forced my already enormous breasts out, the tips swaying this way and that as my hips were pulled in, my stomach sucking in on itself.
Carlinda eyed me critically before nodding with approval.
“Perfect,” she said. “Come along now.”
And pressing another invisible button, a door slid open in the wall, with a long hallway reaching into the darkness. Teetering, I followed the woman into the hallway.
“Carlinda,” I said hesitantly. But then my words stopped. Because the hallway wasn’t just any hallway. There were men on both sides, seated, laughing and talking as she proceeded to walk me through the tunnel. It was like walking down a runway as all around my form, handsome males drank liquor, smoked cigars, and eyed my naked body.
Because the truth of what I was doing crashed down once again. I was completely nude except for a tiny g-string and red stilettos, every single inch of my body nude and available. My curves swung lushly with every movement, nipples hard and tempting.
“Come on,” said Carlinda, turning and fixing me with a stare. “Come Lily.”
Slowly, I made my way into the hallway, taking one slow step after another. It wasn’t quite as bad as I expected. I thought the billionaires would leer like disgusting dogs, but instead they merely shot a couple glances my way, letting their eyes trail over my curves while continuing to drink and laugh.
I took a deep breath, keeping my eyes fixed forward even as my skin heated under those scorching looks. Because to my shame, I liked showing off my assets to these obviously powerful and wealthy men. I liked the way masculine eyes assessed my girls, how their gazes ran hungrily from my breasts to my cunt, and then back again.
