We’re getting some girls suffering~~ scenarios of 4 girls of your own choosing having to strip down to their underwears and be groped please?
Hope you enjoy who I picked~ ;3
Her underwear is plain. Boring. All drab gray fabric and unflattering cuts. She peels off her shirt first, exposing a shapeless sports bra so tight that it's digging angry red lines into her skin.
"Trying to hide your tits, are we?" you tease, delighting in how Suzuki's face heats up with a furious flush.
"Sh-Shut up, asshole—!" she snaps, but still obeys. Too scared of what you'll do if she doesn't— perhaps strip her down to nothing anyway, and shove her out into the hallway to be found.
She wiggles her tight black jeans down her hips next, revealing the loose little shorts that show absolutely no appealing curves. You roll your eyes. "Maybe I need to start getting you better lingerie. Your taste in this stuff is terrible."
You cut off her sputtering reply by grabbing her chest through the bra.
"Oh, quit your whining," you scold. There's hardly even anything here." You pinch one tender nipple beneath the fabric, smirking as she yelps and jerks. Poor thing. It must be awfully tender.
And of course, her face is getting so delightfully red. Poor thing just can't handle being teased— too bad.
Kanako peels off her dress inch by inch, sniffling all the while. Her wide, doll-like eyes are fixed on you in a vicious glare, shining huge and wet with sticky tears.
"I h-hate you..." she's mumbling, over and over under her breath, but you're far more distracted by other things...
The poofy layers of her clothes were apparently hiding soft, pillowy curves, more than her scrawny body would imply. Her chest sits heavy behind a frilly, pastel bra, the exposed upper edge jiggling like pudding as she viciously wrestles out of her sleeves.
Of course, you can't help but have a squeeze.
Kanako screeches when you roughly paw at her still-clothed breasts. She tries to shove you away, but vampiric strength means she doesn't get far. "Disgusting—! Unhand me, you brute—!!"
You cover her mouth with your palm, none too gently. "Shush. Get that skirt the rest of the way off, or I'll make you regret it."
Her sobs bubble up all over again, but she obeys. You give her chest a few more none-too-gentle squeezes, delighting in the faint, birdlike flutter of her heart beneath your palms.
Underneath her tight, black top, Kyouko's bra is a bright hot pink. Thin and strappy, more decoration than support when it has so little flesh to frame. She pouts at you as she peels the shirt out of the way, cutesy unhappiness concealing something darker.
"Isn't this enough?" she whines. "C'mon, you're already getting a VIP view. Can't we call it good?"
You run your palms up her pale, tiny waist. Her skin shivers under your touch, all concealed, nervous energy that she's surely hoping you won't see. "Nope. Keep going. Everything off."
Reluctantly, she wiggles her shorts down past her ass, exposing a tight little thong in a matching shade of vivid pink. It frames her skinny rear so nicely, you can't help but take a squeeze— and delight in the squeaky little yelp the sudden touch earns.
"Cute. Maybe I should get some pictures..." you muse.
Kyouko's eyes go wide with horror. "Don't you dare! Come on, I'm being good. I did exactly what you said. You can touch me all you want, okay? J-Just, no pictures, please?"
Poor thing. You almost feel sorry for her. Even so, she flinches when your palm wanders up to her chest to cop a rougher squeeze.
"Go on. All of it," you order. Ayako pulls a face like she'd rather stick her own hand onto a hot stove burner.
Still, she obeys, perhaps for fear of what will happen if she doesn't. She untucks her pretty white uniform shirt, and slowly shimmies her skirt's waistband past her hips, face screwed up in a nasty little glare all the while.
Her panties are black, fairly plain, with a little bow in the center and thin, lacy trim. She pauses there, hesitating with her shirt.
"Hurry up, or I can take you to the living room and strip you there instead," you remind her, and get a snappish fuck you in response.
When she shrugs off her unbuttoned shirt, you realize why.
"No way, is that thing padded?" you laugh, standing up to grope roughly at the obviously too-stiff bra. "You've been pretending like you have tits, holy shit! That's so pathetic!"
"Sh-Shut up!" Ayako spits back, face painfully red. "You're the one who made me do this, s-so quit complaining! Yours truly's perfect body is a fuckin' treat!" All desperate, false confidence.
