The tabletop was almost bare except for a box and a set of headphones but the light bulb surrounded mirror made Amaya feel glamorous. The box was plug...ed into an outlet. Amaya almost opened it but decided against it. She asked Wesley what he wanted her to do now.“First, I would like you to take off your shirt and pants in front of the mirror,” Wesley said.She looked at the mirror suspiciously. Was there a camera? A shiver of excitement went down her spine. How could Amaya know for sure? She. "Slowly," said another."And don't touch yourself in the process. There's no reason for a woman to that when there are men around to do it for her." Said the best man.I stripped, first my shirt, which I dropped to the floor."Throw the clothes to us, you slut."I picked up the shirt and threw it at the speaker. Next the skirt came off and went to a guy who didn't look old enough to be at a bachelor party. The bra went to the best man and finally, the panties, which had been soaked since the guys. . only a nightmare... only anightmare, I thought in relief as I joined Brandon in the clarinetlesson room. I sat down, assembled my clarinet, and absently adjustedmy bikini top---- Oh God! I woke up again. Brandon seeing me in a bikini again. Atleast I hadn't bombed the clarinet playing this time. I slid furtherdown between my sheets, squeezing my legs together, reveling in myshaved pubes. Maybe I might let Brandon see me wearing a bikini sometime -- oh heavens, no!The Mental Work had. The Young Lovers was the ONLY show Rebecca was allowed to watch EVER and he didn't want the teen abusing privileges. Rebecca watched with resignation as the teevee was shut off for another day."Three o'clock, Rebecca. Time to do your exercises."He jumped up obediently. "Yes, Sir." Without further instructions, the bikinied beach bunny was off to change into a spandex leotard and work out on the exercise equipment in the house gymnasium. Smedley left the femme alone for a bit, then poked.