Gromet's PlazaErotic Stories


by Jo

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© Copyright 2012 - Jo - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; FM/f; waitress; club; charity; raffles; strip; naked; display; emb; cons/reluct; X


Holly showered and put on her work clothes. It was a cross between milk maid and French maid. More the latter minus the lace trim and in brown instead of black. She pulled on her underwear and dark brown pantyhose. Over that she added the frilly, tan panties. They showed below the hem. The skirt was short enough for that - on purpose. She pulled on the special bra, the one with a plunging neckline because the dress barely covered her nipples.

She tugged down on the skirt. Didn't help. She tugged up on the neckline. Ditto. Holly smiled.

Well, there's only one letter different between tits and tips.

Hunter's was a retro steak house, retro being 1950s-ish. A man's place with dark wood and overstuffed leather seats, wooden wainscot and red brocade wallpaper - and the waitresses in their skimpy maid's outfits.

It was Tuesday, a rainy Tuesday at that and the place was dead. Around 6:30 people started coming in in ones and twos. Most of them headed downstairs to the banquet room, some swung by the bar first.

Holly checked her watch for the hundredth time. It was not quite seven. The three waitresses were sitting in the bar at their corner table when Angela walked up. She looked at the three girls and handed Holly a black bundle.

"Linda called out, so I need you downstairs. Of the lot of you, you're the most, er, qualified."

Holly wondered what that meant. She was the new kid, been there only a month.

"Here. Put this on, take off your hose. Circulate among the guests so they can get a good look at you. Edith is the woman in charge, she'll tell you what to do."

What the hell is going on?

Holly bit back the question. Angela did not make requests; she gave orders. And her orders were not open to discussion. Clueless, Holly went into the bathroom and pulled off her maid outfit, frilly panties, and pantyhose. The dress was your basic little black number in some kind knitted material. It clung to her curves. Even in black, her tits jutted out. Couldn't help but look at them. The bra did that. Well, her tits did that, actually, but the bra didn't help.

Downstairs, the room was full, but not packed. The booths along the sides were all occupied, as were the tables in the middle. There was a buffet table set up along the back wall and Taylor was dispensing wine and water. She gave Holly a wink.

Holly worked her way around the room.

"Hi. How are you? Can I get you anything?"

She ran upstairs a few times for liquor refills, topped off wine and water. At one point Edith tapped her glass, welcomed everybody, thanked them for a great year last year, hoped for a better year this year. From the prattle, Holly figured they were some sort of charity and this was the kickoff to their annual fundraising drive.

She held up a roll of raffle tickets.

"You know the rules: a dollar a snip, minimum five dollars per ticket."

She handed Holly the roll of tickets and a fishbowl. Holly made the rounds, dispensing tickets, dropping copies in the glass bowl.

Back at the front of the room, Edith made a show of mixing up the tickets. She pulled one out.


A woman left one of the booths and approached Holly. Edith handed her a pair of EMS shears. The woman took them and reached for Holly's breast, grabbed a pinch of fabric. Holly tried to take a step back, but Edith's hand prevented it. The woman cut a hole right where Holly's nipple should be.


The crowd erupted in good natured booing.

"Come on! Where's the fun in that?"

There was laughter.

The woman bent and cut the hem of the dress, cut again, and a third time, making a short slit. She stepped in back and cut down through the neckline.


A man stood and the woman handed the shears to him.

Edith bent close.

"Smile, dear."

Holly forced a smile. What she really wanted to do was run screaming from the room.

The man continued lengthening the woman's slit until Holly could feel cool air on her thigh, right up to her panties.

He handed the shears off to another man who started a slit in back.

"Leave it to Frank to want first crack at her bum!"

The crowd was laughing, making comments. Apparently there were rules. Everybody had donated, so everybody had to have a shot at her. And everybody did, sometimes two or three shots.

Some made slits, some tugged at the material to expose little circles of Holly's naked flesh. And bit by bit, snip by snip Holly was becoming more and more exposed until, eventually, Holly was more undressed than dressed. The black cloth hung in bits and pieces, tatters, over her body.

The white mounds of her bra-covered tits protruded through gaps in the cloth. Holly knew, couldn't see, but knew her bum and crotch were similarly displayed.

There were several pieces on the floor. Finally, the last ticket holder approached and snipped the two bits of cloth holding what was left of the dress in place. It fell to the floor. Holly stood before them in only her underwear. She was still smiling, but she could feel her cheeks flush.

"And now the auction. We'll start with the bra. What am I bid?"

The bra!?

The bidding ran up to $200. Edith handed a woman the shears and she snipped the straps, snipped between the cups and Holly's bra joined the pile of black on the floor. Instinctively, Holly wanted to cover herself, but she forced her hands to stay by her sides. Everybody was quiet for a bit.

"Okay. Now the panties. Bids?"

Oh shit.

They brought a whopping $500.

A man took the shears and cut the cloth at Holly's hips. He tugged them from between her legs and dropped them.

There was a polite round of applause.

Edith turned to Holly.

"Very nice, dear. Thank you so much. You've made our annual kickoff a resounding success."

There was more applause. Holly could only nod.

"Okay, people. We have food in back. Each ticket entitles you to an extra glass of wine. Enjoy."

Holly was at a loss as to what to do when a woman handed her an empty wine glass and a ticket. She went to the back of the room.

"Taylor. Do me a favor. Get my things."

Taylor came back in a minute with Holly's maid dress. Holly ducked into the bathroom and pulled on the frilly panties, tugged the dress down over her head. She passed on the hose.

Taylor looked directly at Holly's tits.

"Well, Angela was right. You certainly were the most qualified."

She laughed. Holly didn't join her.

"What is it they say? Tits equal tips?"


Holly spent the next two hours filling water glasses and fetching wine, moving through the crowd. They kept her busy, which means she was moving, which means, now braless, her tits were moving. The effect was not lost on the male guests.

At least she didn't have to go upstairs to the bar. Taylor made the drink runs.

Eventually the party wound down until it was only Edith and one other guest.

"Thank you, again. We greatly appreciate it. I think you'll find the tip more than fair."

It damn well better be!


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