"Now then, li'l girl," he said, blowing smoke from his cigarette without removing it from his mouth, "I can' see properly."

I knew I had no prospect of escape: I was completely trapped, discovered naked in the public launderette, waiting for my clothes to dry in the tumble-dryer and caught playing with myself. I was in no position to bargain, and knew that Rollo held all the cards. Whatever he said, I reflected, I would have to agree to. I had no option. And so, if Rollo couldn't see properly, I had to make sure that I rectified that.

My face burning, I eased my legs apart and raised my coat a couple of inches, feeling it slide up my thighs, slowly revealing them to his gaze. From where he was now seated I was at 90º to him rather than face on, and so I turned myself to my left to give him a clearer view, dragging my left leg up onto the bench. And now, I knew, he was staring straight up my thighs at my bared pussy.

"Tha's very nice," he leered. "Bu' I te' you wha', it's very hot in here. Why don' you take it off?"

Oh Christ, Harriet, what have you done, I thought. How did you get yourself into this? I couldn't do it, surely? I couldn't strip off in front of this repulsive old guy in the middle of the launderette, in broad daylight? The doors were locked, for sure, but the windows were still bare and from where I was seated I was clearly visible through them. I stared directly into Rollo's lecherous eyes and saw no pity, only triumph. Trapped, I was trapped.

"Well?" he said, his eyebrow raised. He lit another cigarette from the butt of the old one, which he then discarded, still alight, on the bare floor. His expansive belly hung low over his crotch, the shirt racked with a multitude of stains. Even from this distance I could smell his body odour. He was unpleasant in the extreme. And I was about to strip for him. Slowly, reluctantly, I unbuttoned my coat and pulled it apart, sliding it over my shoulders and down my body, gradually revealing myself. I shucked my arms clear and tossed the coat beside me on the bench; and finally I sat naked in front of him, my legs spread, my pussy and tits on full, ashamed display.

My head was throbbing, a searing, thrusting wave of panic and shame threatening to implode within me. My heart was racing and it was almost literally pounding in my chest; as I looked down I fancied I could see it rising and falling in a frenzied, hurtling rhythm. It was almost painful in its intensity, the humiliation of the moment seared into my mind, and I was momentarily dizzy, fearful that I was about to pass out.

"Now," he said lasciviously, "tha's much nicer. Tiny li'l tits, hey? I a'ways wonder wha' they look like when you used to come in here." I hung my head in shame, a tear falling from my eye. At that moment the door rattled as someone tried to get in. I looked up to see the curious face of a woman peering through the door at me: on seeing me, naked and exposed, her head bolted away and she disappeared in a flurry of embarrassed shock.

"Why don' you touch them for me?" Rollo continued, ignoring the interruption. Sensing it was futile to argue, I mechanically lifted my hand to my left breast and gripped it, rolling my index finger across the nipple and squeezing myself hard. Treacherously, the nipple began to swell and stiffen, revealing my reluctant excitement.

"Ver' nice," he crooned after I had done this for a minute or so. "An' wha' 'bout tha' li'l puss'?" Again, I knew it was pointless to refuse and I instantly dropped my left hand to my crotch, splaying my fingers across my pussy and running the middle finger down the length of my moist inner lips.

"Seems to me," Rollo continued, ignoring the interruption "tha' you a naughty girl. I shou' call the police." Well, I could sense where this conversation was leading, and whatever happened I knew that Rollo wouldn't be calling the police. I also knew, though, that he would enjoy the prospect of blackmailing me, and so I played along with his little game.

"I don't think that's necessary, is it?" I replied, looking shocked.

"Well, you're - wha' they call it? - a menace to society, walkin' roun' naked li' tha', temptin' people. I shoul' protect others from you, shouldn' I?"

"Please, Rollo," I cried, "don't do that. I'd get into such terrible trouble. Surely you don't need to call the police?"

"Dunno," he leered. "Why shouldn' I?" As he said so, he eased his legs open, planting them a yard and a half apart. The price of his silence was becoming all too obvious.

I nodded complicitly. Shaking, I dropped to my knees and crawled across the filthy floor towards him, narrowly avoiding the still smouldering cigarette butt he had discarded earlier.

"Make the li'l titties sway," he said, and despite myself I swung my shoulders from side to side, forcing my breasts to dangle rhythmically beneath me. I crossed the room slowly, my eyes fixed on his, breasts and arse swaying seductively. Approaching his wide spread legs, I rested my hands on his grubby trousers for a moment and stared into his rheumy, alcoholic eyes. Still staring at him, I groped for his trouser belt, hidden beneath folds of fat on his belly, and unfastened it. The button of the trousers was detached, saving me the job of undoing it, so I tugged at the zip and eased open his trousers. I slid my hand in and rested it on his voluminous knickers. Beneath, I could feel the swell of his erection. He grinned at me and nodded.