Please don't call me a slut. It's really degrading and I like it a bit too much.
All the groping talk got me thinking: What if I was the same turboslut SciTwi doing my turboslut thing, and someone laid their hands on me? Now, normally I'd take care not to let that happen in the first place. I'd dress a bit more modestly, avoid secluded areas, stick to places with reasonable security like malls or the school. I'd also avoid doing anything too slutty when I'm in front of strangers. I'd stick to just exaggerating my twirls, giving my hips more swing when climbing stairs, but nothing so explicit like I'd be doing for the boys in CHS.
I'd get complacent over time, of course. My thirst for more exposure would drive me to see riskier venues for my "display." Maybe even pick up riskier acts. I might start with taking the bus home much later after school to get fresh eyes lingering on me. The bus would be full of commuters, and I'd lodge my body, scant state of dress and all, into the crowd. After being squeezed for a few stops, my already-short skirt would be bunched up around my waist, leaving my thong exposed. My arms would be stuck and I wouldn't be able to fix myself.
I want to feel a big, meaty hand groping me right there and then. It'd start with an innocent brush of a knuckle. But after a probing touch, he'd realize that I'm stuck. I want to feel the rough callouses groping me, tracing the contours of my thong and squeezing the bottom of my butt. I'd bite my tongue and hope that he doesn't reach low enough to feel the sopping wet fabric, but he'd do exactly that. I want to feel his massive digits peeling away the bottom of my thong and fingering my moist slit. I want to moan involuntarily and cling onto the man in front of me in ecstasy, only to feel a second pair of hands tugging down at my thong from the front.
I'd be stuck between two perverts, getting more than what I bargained for, and loving every minute of it.