Maid for a Night
by jastes22 

Part 8: Jumping Jacks

We all stood there for a long time. I stood there in the skimpiest and sluttiest of panties with my bra literally hanging by a thread and my hand bound to the nearby chair, just waiting for Lindsay or whomever to come up with my next form of humiliation.

Lindsay’s little act made it very clear that almost nothing was off the table, but the boys were still wondering how far they could push it. Maybe they would decide to be chivalrous and let me go, but I seriously doubted it. I swallowed, just waiting and not trusting myself to speak.

“You know…a maid should be physically fit,” Jackson said. “Maybe we should have Taylor do some jumping jacks.”

My heart sank. So much for chivalry.

Lindsay beamed. She had an ally in this next stage of my humiliation that had gone way past what the bet was supposed to go. “That’s a great idea! Taylor?”

My mind explored the state of my bra, hanging by a single strap and threatening to fall off at any moment. There was no way that it would survive jumping jacks. It was worse than Jackson or Lindsay telling me to just take off my bra, since it would be my own actions that would lead to the last piece of my own clothing to fall.

“Y-yes, Mister Jackson,” I said.

“Good.” Lindsay grabbed my wrist and opened up the handcuffs with a small key. She set them down on the countertop nearby—she wasn’t quite done with them, I realized.

I tried to appreciate the small moment of freedom while I had it. Being bound had had a much larger effect on me than I had realized in the moment, making me more submissive and agreeable to anything, as evidenced by me willingly taking off my panties in front of boys.

For a brief moment, free, I felt empowered. With the losing of my bra inevitable, I decided I need to put my foot down. I turned to my friend. “Lindsay, I—”

“Taylor! What did I say about complaining?”

The sudden surge of confidence I had burst faster than a popped balloon. I whimpered and shut my mouth, berating myself for even thinking about speaking out of turn. “I-I’m sorry, Miss. Won’t happen again.”

“Good. Now get going. We need to determine your physical fitness.”

I stepped in front of the four of them at the head of the table. Idly, my brain trying to think of anything but the situation I was in, I wondered what we would be doing at this exact moment if Lindsay had been the one to lose the bet. No doubt she’d be in her underwear at this point. Maybe I would have had her serve us some drinks. Nothing crazy like this.

“Make sure they’re nice and big,” Lindsay said. “We wouldn’t want you to have to do them again.”

The implied threat of more humiliation made, Lindsay leaned back in her chair to get a better view of me.

I decided that hesitating would only make things worse. I jumped, spreading my arms and legs in the air and coming back down. An audible whimper escaped my lips as I felt my tits jiggle, barely held in by my bra. My tits weren’t big, but there was enough for them to make a noticeable bob up and down with each jump.

I jumped again, and again. I swore I could feel the strap on my left shoulder begin to slip, but I couldn’t be sure, and I didn’t dare look down to check, both out of fear of what I would see and fear of punishment.

By the 6th or 7th jump, I realized that they hadn’t given me a number to go to. Maybe they intended for me to go on indefinitely until my bra fell.

Maybe they intended for me to go on even after my bra fell.

An image of me, naked save for a skimpy black panty, jumping with my tits swinging freely in the wind, flew through my head.

It was at that moment that I felt the strap on my bra slip completely off my shoulder.

The sensation of my bra falling combined with the image of my naked body on display combined was enough to cut through the conditioning and threats Lindsay had made up until this point. My arms flew in and grabbed my chest, holding my bra to my tits just in time.

“Taylor!” Lindsay said, standing up. “Remember what I said about covering?”

I couldn’t. I could only think about my racing heartbeat and the sensation of my fingers being the only thing that stopped my tits from being fully on display.

“For your disobedience, you deserve to be punished.”

Punished? What did she mean by that?

“Lower your hands.”