Visa H1B

English is not my native language, so please have a little patience. I will appreciate your comments, and feedback at [email protected]

Part 1

Layla checked her watch for the eleventh time, she felt anxious. She wanted to apply to an H-1B (professional worker ) visa for the USA. She reviewed her folder again, she had covered every single requisite. She was carrying her Ireland passport, a carefully filled application, and her College title. The visa required her to have a bachelor degree. The folder contained also the certificated job offer that she received from an American company, she even carried her high school certificate, just in case. If everything worked fine, in a couple of weeks she was going to be working as a network security expert at Los Angeles.

She would have wanted to remain in her country, but she could not find a job there. The scarce qualified jobs were given to people with a lot of experience. With the rampant unemployment, companies could afford experienced workers even for entry level positions. So the 25 years old girl had been working as a waitress since she graduated almost a year ago.

This was the chance to get the life that she deserved.

�Next�, the clerk of the American consulate called the woman in front of her. Layla looked at her watch. �4:35pm�, she thought, �if this woman doesn�t hurry, I won�t probably have a chance to present my application, and I would have to wait until Monday�

The woman before her was a girl, maybe of Layla�s age; she seemed of an African or caribean origin. She was dressed in a form-fitting bright yellow dress that was way too short for Layla�s tastes. She was wearing high heeled sandals that made her look even cheaper. Multiple and colorful shinny bracelets adorned both of her hands and she wore also a couple of anklets on her left foot. The cheap jewelry was made of some metal because it clinked with every step she made. She was escorted by a robust woman, dressed in a long brown dress with some ethnic patterns engraved in black and gold.

The older woman talked

�Listen ma�am. My niece wants to apply for a worker visa for the states�, she talked out loud, as if the clerk was deaf or something. She had a strong accent.

�Yes ma�am. We are receiving applications for specialized jobs�, she said politely, even when none of the black women looked like educated people, the fact that the young one was chewing bubble gum didn�t help her case. The young black woman was looking elsewhere, as she was bored to be there instead of doing a process that could change her life.

�Yes that�s what my niece wants�

�Ok, did you bring your job offer?�

�No�, said the young woman that talked for the first time.

The clerk was about to dismiss them, but for some strange reason she wanted to be kind and orientate those people.

�Listen� Marcia�, she said reading her name from the just partially filled application.

�Do you have a Bachelor degree?�

�A barcheelor what?�

The clerk smiled, and said, �What did you study?�

�Ah� I almost started high school�

Layla rolled her eyes, �these morons are consuming precious time for nothing�

�I see�, said the clerk, �well, for this visa, you need a College degree, and a job offer from a company in the USA��

And the clerk started explaining every single option that they could recur to enter the USA legally. Normally a clerk would have dismissed them immediately, but for some reason this one felt compelled to answer every dumb question that the older woman made.

�Thank you ma�am, � said the aunt with a sincere smile, �We will come back soon�

�Of course, anytime�, said the clerk, then turning to Layla she said, �Sorry ma�am, the system is already closed, come again next week�.

And with that she stood up and walked out of the office leaving a stunned Layla behind.

Layla walked out of the building, she was fuming. She saw Marcia and her aunt walking just a few yards outside the consulate door, they were talking about returning the next Monday, and she couldn�t resist anymore.

�Can�t you see that you don�t have anything that is required for that visa? you morons.�

The aunt turned to see Layla. Her eyes reflecting that she was surprised and hurt, but the blonde woman was blinded by her rage.

�What does make you think that you could apply? Those visas are for highly technical jobs, not for strippers or whores, if you return on Monday you will only make us all lose our time�

Layla regretted her outburst, but she comforted herself thinking, �They deserved it, and somebody had to help them put the feet on the ground and stop dreaming the impossible�

�What?, we are no whores. What about you?�, said the aunt, now visually pissed.

Layla felt a bit intimidated, but she was too angry to stop,

�Of course not. I am a highly trained computer security expert, and I am certainly don�t dress like a slut as your niece there.�

�Are you saying that you are so much better than my niece?�

�Isn�t it obvious?�, she replied angry, �come on, look at her, she is not only ignorant, but she comes to apply in a dress shorter than my shortest party dress�

�Oh, so only your nice clothes and your college degree makes you superior to Marcia?�

�Only?� Layla thought, and was about to snap with a sharp response, when she suddenly felt a bit ditzy and confused. There was something in the older woman�s dark brown eyes, and in the way she constantly rubbed the cheap blue crystal in her pendant that made hard for Layla to think. For a moment she cached a glow in it, which made her lost her train of thought.

Layla made an effort to concentrate and managed to say,

�Yes, Only that�,

�We can fix that�. What is your name missy?�

�Layla�, she replied without thinking.

�I am Wilma, and my niece is�

�Marcia�, interrupted Layla, �Listen, I need to go�

�No Layla, we have things to fix, take us to your place. Do you have a computer there?�

�Yes, I have one�, she wanted to say her to go to hell or something; instead she started walking towards her apartment. It was just a 20 minute walk but it was unnerving. She felt very apprehensive, she was usually an assertive girl, but every time she tried to stand against Wilma, she felt Wilma�s sight overwhelming, so she end up meekly looking at her own shoes, her voice an inaudible whisper that Wilma showed no interest in decipher.

Her apartment was pretty modest. She couldn�t afford any better with her waitress wage, but once she�d go to America, she was going to really improve her way of living, and would have the kind of little luxuries that she deserved.

The trio sat at the kitchen table and Layla turned on her laptop as instructed by Wilma.

�Let�s start fixing the problem�

Layla looked at Wilma puzzled.

�You need to hack your college server and change your records so they have now the name of Marcia Rivers�

�I can�t do that,� she said, �That is a pretty stupid thing to do, and I am not even such a good hacker to be able to do that, it would take me days, probably weeks to enter my college servers, and most attack schemas would require people inside their network opening an infected email, and��

She felt completely afraid, she realized that even as she was talking, she was typing furiously, attempting every single attack that she knew of. She couldn�t believe she was really trying to hack into her college servers!

�Fortunately, it is not that easy�, she thought trying to reassure herself, as she franticly typed commands in her computer and started running many bots at the same time, and then she had an epiphany and enthusiastically started making a little program that soon have broken into the server. She felt a wave of proud at her accomplishment, but then remembered the objective and felt a shiver down her spine.

She quickly located her expedient in the college databases and started replacing her name with Marcia�s in every single place. She was blushing bright red, but oddly she was getting wet.

�Very good Layla�, said Wilma in a very condescending tone, �You should now do the same with your high school record, better safe than sorry�

Layla turned to see Wilma, �Please ma�am, I am sorry, please stop�, she said as her body and mind started trying to crack the problem of hacking into her high school site.

�I�d stop you, but you really WANT to do this, don�t you?�, said Wilma while rubbing her pendant and making it glow.

She bit her lower lip, and didn�t answer but continued working and in just a few minutes she had managed to hack into her high school computers and change the records. She felt a stronger tingle in her pussy.

�Very good Layla, Now Marcia have a degree and you don�t�

She must have kept her mouth shut, but for some reason she felt compelled to tell the truth. It was as if she really wanted that Marcia had a degree and she didn�t.

�No, ma�am, there are still the government records��

40 minutes later she had changed every single record in every possible server.

�So there is now nothing to prove that you are a college graduate�

�There are copies of my documents, and certifications in my computer, and I have the originals here in these folders�

�Send your computer copies to my niece email, so she could forge some copies with her own name, and then erase them definitely from your computer�, she complied in a daze feeling more and more turned on.

�Now use this scissors to cut your originals into little pieces�

�Ma�am please� �, she said, but unable to stop herself she started cutting her certificates into the littlest possible pieces. She was now almost hyperventilating. She had no way to prove that she studied, she couldn�t even prove that she studied high school; her planned trip to the USA was crumbling.

Layla was trembling with fear, and overwhelmed by her odd arousal.

�Very good Layla�, said Wilma in a condescending tone, �Now we got the problem of the clothes�

�Clothes�� Repeated Layla mesmerized.

�Yes Layla, you better give your wardrobe to Marcia, I know you want her to have it, don�t you?�

She merely nodded, but seeing Wilma�s stern waiting face she said out loud.

�Marcia, you may take any clothes you like, there are a couple of big suitcases in the closet�

She was nervous, most of her clothes were irreplaceable. They were expensive outfits that she had from before the crisis crushed her parents� company. She had a lot of designer clothes, even elegant dresses that once belonged to her mother.

Her only hope was that Marcia, having such a bad taste in clothes, skipped the nice outfits and went for the cheapest. But she saw with apprehension that Marcia wasn�t selecting. She was simply packing ALL of her clothes. She was putting everything that Layla possessed in the suitcases, even her underwear. Marcia even recurred to a couple of trash bags to pack the rest of Layla�s clothes and shoes.

Layla blushed seeing how all of her clothes were now packed in the living room.

�I think Marcia is missing an outfit�, said Wilma, and Layla turned to see her in panic.

�but� but.. it is the only one��

�I know, and you want Marcia to have it, don�t you�

She didn�t, or so she thought, but her hands were already unbuttoning her blue blazer. She was wearing a business outfit, she had wanted to make a very good impression on the consulate looking neat and professional. She also knew that without the right clothes, her young looking face and slender figure made her look like a teenager.

After ditching her blazer, shoes and pantyhose she turned to see Wilma with begging eyes, but she only chuckled, and Layla couldn�t stop herself until she was fully nude.

Layla was completely embarrassed and tried to cover her blushing nude body with her hands.

�Embarrassed?�, said Wilma

She shyly nodded.

�And you should be, specially when being naked among fully clothed people arouses you so much�

A wave of arousal hit Layla and she felt even more embarrassed as her horniness was clearly visible.

�but you secretly want people to see your �bits� so you don�t cover them, even when it is extremely embarrassing to show them your body so blatantly�

Layla dropped her hands by her side; she was blushing bright red, the embarrassment was almost too much, but the idea of those fully clothed women seeing her painfully erect nipples and her swollen and wet labia was turning her on like she had never been in her entire life.

�That is why, from now on you will only buy or wear clothes that show at least a glimpse of your bits. You know underwear only gets in the way, so from now on you won�t use it, and you will try to have your clothes as skimpy as possible, in the border of illegal. I think that shorts and mini skirts, combined with tank tops or halter blouses that show your elbows and navel would conform your new wardrobe. Winters are going to be a little though for you�, Wilma chuckled.

Layla shivered while picturing herself in such revealing outfits.

�But those clothes would be inappropriate for many situations�, Layla managed to say.

�You are right, as a matter of fact, they would be inappropriate for most situations, but you know that the more inappropriate your outfit is for a particular occasion, the more a turn on it is for you to be dressed like that�

Layla knew. Somehow she knew it was true.

�But people will think that I am a slut�, Layla whined with genuine concern.

�I know you are not a slut, but that is why it is such a turn on for you that people could think you are a slut. It is so humiliating, and humiliation turns you on a lot, doesn�t it�

�Yes�, she whispered.

�As a matter of fact, you crave humiliation, it is so arousing. I bet you wish now that I humiliate you even more, don�t you?�

She merely nodded, she was visibly trembling now.

�But I don�t know how ,� said Wilma, �Maybe you can tell me. What would be more humiliating for you than your current situation�

Layla blushed, and tried to remain quiet. She was showing more willpower than Wilma thought possible, but she knew it was only a matter of time.

Layla knew her goals have been taken down several notches, but she was still hopeful of improving over her waitress job. Layla knew that now her only possibility to make a living was to work from home. She won�t be able to work for the big names without any legal probe of her studies, and with her new clothing compulsions, but with some luck she could turn into some kind of freelance or subcontractor, a hacker for hire in the internet.

Wilma waited patiently as Layla struggled with all her might trying to keep herself quiet, but then decided to give her a push.

Layla, I want you to bend over the kitchen table, and show us your wet snatch while you write your ideas in a paper.

Layla complied blushing even redder. She knew she shouldn�t do it, she wasn�t even ordered to do it, but she put each feet in the outer part of the corresponding table leg, so she was wide open, showing her ass and pussy.

She wrote her idea in a piece of paper, while Marcia and Wilma laughed. She couldn�t resist anymore and reached back to put the paper slip on the small of her back.

�Do you want me to read it Layla?�

�Yes ma�am�

Wilma read it out loud, �The most humiliating thing would be that Marcia had not only my degrees, but my college and high school knowledge�

Layla blushed deeply, she didn�t believe that Wilma could do that, still she was pretty afraid.

�Oh, that is a wonderful Idea darling; let�s go back to your computer�

Layla sat nervously in front of her laptop while the other pair watched her with glee.

Wilma touched the screen a couple of times. Layla was about to tell the moron woman that it wasn�t a touchscreen but suddenly a couple of big folders appeared on her screen, one portrayed her picture, and the other Marcia�s.

Instinctively she clicked in each of them and saw several folders inside the one with her photo, the other one had only three.

�You know what to do, don�t you?� told her Wilma with a mischievous smile.

With trembling hands, Layla dragged the folder named �College� from her folder to Marcia�s one, then did the same with the High School folder.

Layla felt a bit ditzy, it was all too surreal. It simply can�t be true, but then Marcia started talking.

�Wow, I fell it now aunty. It is all so exciting, I bet I could protect those sites better than this bitch ever did, it is just a matter of designing a more proactive kind of firewall.�

Layla was confused how a firewall could protect a computer, it would burn, wouldn�t it?

Marcia continued talking excitedly, �and do you remember the movie that we saw last night? It wasn�t an original story, they were simply copying Shakespeare�s Hamlet in a modern context.�

Layla felt more and more confused, those names sounded vaguely familiar, but then it hit her.

�It really happened!� she realized blushing ashamed of what she just did.

�Who is the superior woman now slut�

�You are,� said Layla sincerely, but barely whispering, overwhelmed by the humiliation and the arousal.

�Layla. Did you notice the trashcan in the lower right corner of the screen?�, said Wilma, amused by the events.

Layla looked at the screen an immediately knew what Wilma wanted. She was waiting for an order, or a suggestion, but then realized that Wilma wanted her to do it on her own will.

With trembling hands she dragged the folder named �Junior High� to the trashcan.

Marcia open laugh only increased her humiliation. Her arousal was at new unprecedented levels. Her nipples were a couple of bullets, and there was a noticeable puddle in the chair between her legs.

Layla was mesmerized, she opened the folder named �Elementary� and started dropping folders in the trashcan starting by the sixth grade. Wilma stopped her after she threw away her third grade.

�Stop Layla. I don�t want you to turn completely useless�

Layla was hooked and turned to see Wilma with begging eyes.

�You want more, don�t you?�

She nodded, and Marcia giggled.

�OK. There is a new waitress in the restaurant that you work, tell me about her�

�Yes, she just started today, but I don�t think she is going to last, I was training her, and she didn�t seem to learn much. She is smart but she simply doesn�t pay attention. I even told my boss about it�

�Ok, Why don�t you give her all your waitress training and experience, so she doesn�t have trouble tomorrow�

A new folder with her coworker picture appeared on the screen. Layla hesitated, she knew she had to hold to that job, because right now she probably won�t be able to get another job like that.

�Oh, come on, I know you want to,� said Marcia, �Imagine tomorrow, that lazy bitch staring and shinning in all the processes, while you make a mistake after another, it would lots of fun�

The new tease was more than she could resist, so she made the transfer. She couldn�t resist anymore, she started fingering herself shamefully in front of the other women that were laughing and making crude comments about the process.

Finally she came like an explosion.


Part 2

Monday afternoon Layla was waiting in line inside the US consulate. She was feeling very uncomfortable. She was wearing the blue denim shorts, and the pink tank top that Marcia had given her in exchange for all of her clothes. The garments were skimpy and cheap to begin with, but Layla couldn�t resist to make them even worse. She had cut the shorts until a full couple of inches of her buttocks were uncovered, then she had cut the bottom of the tank top leaving her navel visible, and her now very hard nipples were almost poking thru the thin fabric. Off course she wasn�t wearing any underwear. She was barefoot, and her soles were disgustingly dirty. She had been unable to buy any shoes, maybe it was because Wilma didn�t give her any instructions about them. All in all it make her feel even cheaper.

She was fidgeting nervously, she felt completely out of place there dressed as she was. Wilma probably used her magic to �convince� the guard to let her in. Everybody looked at her with disapproving glances, making her feel more insecure and aroused.

�I am not a slut, but everybody must think I am�, she thought ashamed, but secretly wished that somebody noticed that the thin fabric between her legs was not enough to fully cover her pussy when she sat with slightly open legs.

In front of her was Marcia who was smartly dressed with one of Layla�s business suits, and looked completely relaxed, and self confident.

Layla�s insecurity had been fed by the weekend events. First she had made a complete fool of herself in her waitress job. She was the most experienced waitress of the restaurant, but she was having trouble even taking the simplest orders, and was making continuous mistakes in all the process, from greeting the customer to taking the payment. She was performing as the worst waitress ever. It all contrasted with the new recruit that seemed to dominate all the routines to perfection. She tried to ask her coworkers for instructions, but they were very impatient, and she didn�t understand most of their barked instructions; she didn�t know a thing about the restaurant jargon, not to mention that her day to day vocabulary had taken a serious hit with her lost of academic knowledge. Just a couple of hours after her shift started, her boss asked her if she was on drugs or something, and relegated her to do the cleaning of the bathrooms and kitchen instead. Out of pure work pressure, the boss started training the cleaning girl as a waitress, while Layla did the cleaning; she even had to exchange uniforms with the cleaning girl.

It was completely devastating for her self-steam, to wear the cleaning girl uniform, and face her smirking coworkers. She had always felt so superior to them, and she never made any effort to hide that fact. She shivered she always hated working as a waitress, even when she knew it was only temporary, but now she felt incompetent even for a job she had always considered as the last refuge for losers.

After her shift, she was made to present an exam about the restaurant procedure along with the new trainee, which did perfect, the cleaning girl who barely passed, but showed promise, while she failed in the most disgraceful way, causing her boss to fire her. Fortunately after some shameful begging, and flirting, she managed to get hired again, this time as a cleaning girl, which paid even less, and had not access to tips. She shivered thinking that her boss now expected certain �extra activities� from her, so he can see her value for the company.

A woman�s voice startled Layla, taking her out of her painful reveries.

�You are next Layla,� said a very smiling Marcia.

�I made it!�, she said happily showing her a sealed Passport. A wave of humiliation shook all of Layla�s body, pushing her arousal to new peeks.

She meekly approached the window.

�Papers�, said the clerk after a dismissive look at Layla.

�Here, ma�am�, she answered stammering in a soft, insecure whisper.

�What is this? You don�t have any job offers, or any study certificates, your application says that you only studied to second grade. You are wasting my time girl, and you didn�t even filled all the application questions�

�I am sorry. I didn�t understand some of the questions, so I let them blank�

�Not all, as I see. Some have very dumb answers�

Layla blushed. The clerk had been reinforced by Wilma to be merciless, and completely impolite.

She sealed her application �REJECTED� and called, �Next�

Layla walked out with her eyes cast at the floor. She could hear people mocking her, or snickering with disgust, but the worst was that she knew that is how she is going to spend every Monday (her free day). Wilma had commanded her to return every week and do her best trying to get the visa, of course, she would be rejected time after time, losing the $190 USD cost of the Visa application. It would take a serious part of her scarce income.

On her way out of the embassy she found Wilma. �Please ma�am, at least spare me of this visits, I really can�t afford them�

�Don�t worry, you can stop paying rent. I bet you can arrange some accommodation with my friend Marco of the Maja�s club�

Layla shivered. The Maja club was a low class stripper joint.

�Here have his card. You may perform two or three times a week so he can lend you a small room in the back of the local.�

Layla nodded mesmerized. The idea of stripping in front of strangers aroused her, but she was afraid of her dancing skills.

As if reading her mind, Wilma said, �I know you are insecure about your dancing ability, and your small tits, but you only need to compensate by being bolder, cheaper, and more daring than your fellow dancers�

Layla blushed with shame, she would have to be the most perverted of the dancers in order to compensate for her lack of talent.

�Maybe your coworkers will try to match you act, but you can always escalate it, can�t you?�

Layla merely nodded imagining herself forced to constantly increase the depravation of her show in order to keep her little edge.

�Thank you ma�am, but can I stop applying for the visa. It is pointless and��, she said meekly.

�No. I like the idea very much, but let�s make it interesting for you�, she hummed for a couple of minutes like thinking, and then she said.

�If you get the visa, you will be again as you were, completely with knowledge and titles,�

In spite of the impossibility Layla saw a little glimpse of hope.

��but it has to cost you something, there is nothing free in this life. Let�s say that every time you are rejected, you will lose one month of academic knowledge. �

Epilogue

Eight months later, Layla was again in line in the USA embassy. She was dressed in a very short mini skirt that barely covered her pussy when she was standing up, the top was a very used sport bra that was now so thin that it made completely obvious her very erect nipples, its hem was a bit ragged, and it showed just a glimpse of the bottom of her breasts . She was chewing nervously a bubble gum while nervously checking the cracking polish of her red nails and toenails. The bubble gum added to her cheap image, but it was not Wilma doing, she simply had started to chew gum a couple of months ago to cope with the stress, and it had turn into a habit for her to chew constantly and with her mouth open. To complete the trashy look she was barefoot as usual.

After a lot of begging Wilma allowed her to wear shoes, but it hasn�t resulted as Layla wanted, because she only could wear them at stage, and only high platform, high heel. If she wanted to wear her �fuck me� shoes outside the stage, she would be compelled to have sex with a different partner for every hour that she wore them.

Wilma had helped her to fill her application because she could not longer read or write.

�Next!�, called the consulate clerk.

A very nervous Layla approached the desk, she knew that it was her last chance, and she was willing to lie to get the visa.

�You again?�, said the female clerk with impatience.

�Here�, said Layla, ignoring the clerk comment and handing her the application.

�See� I am a comput exper and I wana work there in your country�, she said proud of her clever deception.

�Oh, I see,� said the clerk amused by the dumb attempt, �and where do you study to be a computer expert?�

�ahm� in the classroom�, said Layla.

�Ok. And why did you write �some preschool� under education in your application?�

Layla blushed bright red, �It was a mistake. I can type in the keyboard like you� I know what all those letters are��

�I see� but you have some work experience, don�t you?�

�Yes, I have worked a lot� in offices you know� with computers��

�I see, then why you filled the space of work experience with this:

�I worked as a cleaning girl but I was fired because I can�t read or write, now I work as a stripper, and occasionally as a whore. My stage name is Candi�

Layla blushed bright red. Wilma was supposed to write what she dictated her, instead she wrote the naked truth.

�OK. Candi, don�t come back again or I call the police�, said the clerk while sealing the application �REJECTED�.

Layla felt the last vestige of academic education fly away from her mind.

On her way out she stumbled into Wilma.

�Hi Candi, did you get an approval?�

Layla blushed bright red, both at being called Candi and about being rejected again.

�No, ma�am,� she said meekly.

�Don�t worry today was the last time you had to go there. I am going to America, and I can�t help you with your applications anymore�

Layla sighed relieved, at least she would spare that humiliation.

�But I will give you a last gift before I am gone,� said Wilma, �what could you wish?� she added, mostly to herself while rummaging and trying to think.

Layla fidgeted nervously.

�Maybe you want to get back, to be just as you were before we met�

Layla nodded enthusiastically.

�Or maybe you want more humiliation�, she said.

Layla blushed bright red.

�I can�t give you both. You have to tell what do you rather like, to return to your former self, or for me to find a way to further humiliate you�

Layla was about to talk, but Wilma interrupted her.

�Wait. Don�t talk. Before you answer, picture this: You will be compelled to give all your possessions along with any new money that you make, or gifts that you may receive to your fellow strippers; so you will be perennially naked, except for the clothes you wear at stage before stripping, otherwise you will refuse any clothes you are offered, and if that is not enough humiliation for you; you will also be unable to make yourself come by masturbating unless you make someone come first, so if you want release for you constant horniness, you will have to find a willing partner.

Imagine: you will be completely dispossessed, you will own absolutely nothing ever, not even a stitch of clothes, and you will be desperate, and eager to do anything just to be allowed to sexually satisfy men and women indistinctly, so you can tame your horniness just for a little while�

Layla was bright red, and was almost hyperventilating. Wilma had portrayed a horribly humiliating future for her. She felt very nervous. She wanted to talk and reject it, but she was still waiting for Wilma�s permission.

�Layla, take your time to ponder both options. What do you prefer, your old life, or for me to add these new humiliations to your already degraded life as an ignorant horny stripper. You may talk now, but you have to answer with complete honesty.�

Layla wished very badly to get back to her old self, she pictured herself as successful computer expert in the USA, and felt very good, but� but when she pondered the other option, she felt the strongest craving of her life. She rationalized that it was an awfully bad decision, but Wilma had asked her to answer honestly what she rather like, not to pick the best option for her.

Layla barely whispered her answer, overwhelmed by her emotions. A minute later she found herself naked on the street. Wilma was nowhere to be seen. She felt extremely humiliated by being nude there. She felt the sights of everybody around her, she felt the contempt of the women, and the objectification of men. She felt horny as hell. She bit her lower lip shyly, and ran to the stripper club planning to jump on her boss, or one of the bouncers whoever she finds first. She had a faint smile on her face picturing the orgasm she was going to get. She decided to get the best of it, after all it was her own choice.

The End