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From: The Technician <Technician666@GMail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Losing The Super Bowl 2015     F/F, Lost Bet, Humiliation, Spanking, Public Nudity
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Date: Thu, 26 Feb 2015 05:10:05 -0500
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Losing The Super Bowl 2015

by The Technician

F/F, Lost Bet, Humiliation, Spanking, Public Nudity

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A young woman learns not to bet on the Super Bowl.

Be careful what you bet on the Super Bowl, especially if you are a
couple of drinks past your limit.

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WARNING!  All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18
ONLY.  Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content.  All
people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations,
and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real
life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference
between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province,
nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts
depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to
somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if
acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is
included with the article.  This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The
Technician ( Technician666@Gmail.Com. )

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this
story for personal, non-commercial use.  Production of multiple copies
of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly
forbidden.

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician}
Senior Project  http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753
Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160
I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
 * * * * * * * * * * * * 

OK, it was a stupid bet, I know it was a stupid bet, but we were at a
Super Bowl party and I had a little too much to drink and everyone was
egging me on all the way.  

My name is Shelly and I work in a data processing center in
Minneapolis with 22 other women.  The office Super Bowl party is a
tradition that goes back to before I started working there 6 years
ago.  Every year the entire office gets together for a "girls only"
Super Bowl party. Almost all of the other women in the office are
Vikings fans, but no matter who was playing, we gathered at our office
manager's home. And every year there are stupid bets made between "the
girls." Someone ends up having to come to work with orange hair or in
a football jersey of the winning team or with makeup in the winning
teams colors or whatever.  Like I said, they are stupid bets, but this
year I made what has to be the stupidest bet ever.

I am originally from Seattle and Barb is originally from Boston. We
are both football fanatics. So much so, in fact, that the others in
the office referred to us as Seattle Shelly and Boston Barb. So it was
inevitable that we would be rooting for our hometown teams at the
party and no surprise to anyone that there would be some sort of bet
between us.

What was surprising was that both Barb and I came to the party in
cheerleader outfits.  We both had been cheerleaders in high school and
both of us could still fit into our outfits. Our outfits were even the
team colors. We both came dressed to proclaim our loyalty to our
team... and to flaunt our stuff.  After all not everyone can still
look hot in their high school cheerleading outfit nine years later.

Before the game ever began we agreed on a bet.  We were the same size,
so the loser would have to wear the winner's outfit and be a
cheerleader for the winning team at work on Monday.  Since no
customers ever actually come into the data processing center, and
since the office manger and the shift supervisor were both at the
party with us- and both a little drunk- there wasn't going to be any
problem with that.

The first quarter just resulted a lot of taunting back and forth
between Barb and me. Then they ran that puppy commercial and got us
all crying. One of the women said, "We need something to cheer us up
and get our minds back on the game."

I downed my beer and suggested that maybe if Barb and I upped our bet
a little, it would make the game more interesting. I suggested if New
England won by more than 3 points, I would wear a New England
cheerleader outfit not only Monday, but all week.  If it was less than
3 points, she would wear my Seahawk outfit all week.  She agreed and
all the other women from the office cheered and yelled to encourage
us.

The second quarter didn't start out much better. Then LaFell caught
that pass in the end zone and the Patriots were up 7-zip. Barb taunted
me that I was going to lose big. Then all the women from the office
started giving me a really bad time about how I was going to lose and
that I would look really cute in Barb's cheerleader outfit.

"No way!" I yelled. "I'll even up the bet... cheerleader skirt, but no
tights."

That meant that the loser would be totally naked beneath the skirt.  I
know I shouldn't have made that bet, but I did. I figured that even if
I lost, it was only women in the office, and at my desk nothing really
showed - though I had a feeling that whoever lost would be the one
sent to get anything that was needed out of the filing cabinet,
especially from the bottom drawer.

Everyone cheered and laughed and then Sara, the shift supervisor said,
"Naked means totally naked, no tights, no panties, no hair.  Smooth
and naked as the day you were born."  Both Barb and I looked at her in
amazement, but then we both said together, "Agreed."

Five minutes later Russell Wilson made that great pass and set things
up for Marshawn Lynch to score for the Hawks and it was tied. Then the
Patriots scored again and made it 14-7. 

I must have looked a little nervous because Barb began to tease me
again and asked, `Do you want out of your bet?"

I was way past my normal two drink limit or I wouldn't have said
anything and besides that, at that moment the cameras zoomed in on a
fan in the stands who was bare-chested and painted in Seahawk colors.
He was probably more drunk that I was.  Looking at the screen, I
responded, "No way.  Let's take it up another notch.  The loser has to
paint their chest in the winning colors, just like that idiot on TV."

Barb laughed and said, "You all heard her.  She wants to paint her
tits in Patriot red, white and blue."  I responded, "No, you are going
to be painting you whole body Blue and Green."

Barb said to everyone, "You girls are our witnesses. The bet is
painted tits at work for a week." Everyone laughed and someone yelled,
"To painted tits," as everyone toasted our bet.

After a few minutes it hit me what I had actually bet.  If I lost I
was going to be spending a week at work in nothing but a cheerleader
skirt with my upper body painted red, white, and blue.

I was starting to think I had made a really big mistake but then with
only five seconds left, that great coach, Pete Carroll made the risky
decision to pass for a touchdown rather than kicking a field goal.
Chris Matthews caught it with only a second left, and the game went
into halftime tied 14-14.

All of us danced with Katy Perry during the halftime show and while we
danced, we all downed a couple more drinks. After Katy floated off on
her flaming star, someone said, "Let's hear a half-time cheer for the
winner."

I yelled out, "That will be the Seahawks," and Barb yelled just as
loud, "Patriots."

Sara said, "Let's see you do a cheer routine for your favorite," and
both Barb and I stood up in front of the TV.

Before we could start, someone from the back of the room yelled, "Take
it off!"

Someone else yelled, "One of you is going to lose your tights and tops
anyway, you might as well get used to it."

OK, I was way drunker than I should have been. I reached down and
slipped off my tights and threw them to the back of the room and then
pulled my sweater top over my head. I was now standing there in just
my cheerleader skirt and white sports bra. When I looked over at Barb,
she was kicking her leg up in a cheer. It was obvious that she also
had ditched the tights.

By the time the game came back on, we had both finally realized
exactly what we had done and were sitting somewhat embarrassed in
front of the TV.

Seattle soon got a quick field goal and took it to 17-14. I figured
that we could get at least one other touchdown and even if the
Patriots scored, they would still be down by three.  "Let's put this
bet over the top," I said to Barb.  If New England doesn't win by at
least 4 points, you end up totally naked at work painted Blue and
Green... ... and you have to buy the body paint."

Barb replied, "I'll take that bet and up the ante.  The loser gets
spanked by everyone here.  One swat for each point in the point
spread. And that happens today and every day next week before you
start work and at the end of the day."

All the women were yelling and cheering. I almost said, "no", but
Diane put her arms into a wing position and started clucking at me
like a chicken.  So, I said, "It's a bet."

At that point I was pretty sure I had 50-50 chance of losing, but then
we got another touch down.  It was 24 - 14 Seahawks, so I decided to
rub it in a little. I taunted Barb, "Are you ready for your spanking?
Do you have a supply of blue and green body paint? Want to go for full
body painting?"

She looked very upset, but replied, "We'll come back."

I couldn't resist and said, "If you are so sure, let's take it up
another notch.  You're totally naked and the spanking is with a
leather belt, not with someone's hand."

The ladies all went "ooooooooooh" and looked at Barb.  She said,
"You're on.  I am going to enjoy beating your ass red, even if it is
painted red, white and blue."

A new toast was proclaimed, "To painted asses," and everyone laughed
and cheered.

I confidently imagined Barb sitting naked on a pillow at her desk
trying to do her work. But then the Patriots scored twice and made it
28-24. I was starting to fear I that I might lose. Barb was teasing me
something fierce and describing how she would post pictures of my
naked ass on a porn site after she had it criss-crossed with welts
from a belt.

Then Kearse made that miracle catch almost on the goal line with only
a minute left. We were on the three yard line with a first down. There
was no way we wouldn't put it in for a touchdown.

"Looks like it is going to be me posting pictures of your ass," I
shouted at Barb.

"It ain't over yet!" she yelled back. "You wanna up the bet?"

"Damn straight," I snapped back. "The loser has to get naked and go
down on the winner right here in front of everyone."

That brought another round of "ooooh's" from the other women. One of
them yelled out,"I think the loser should do us all!"

At this point, there was no way the Hawks could lose. I was really
looking forward to seeing Barb lap two dozen pussies and I could once
again picture her sitting at her desk naked, painted blue and gren. I
was dreaming of the glory of next week.  I could see it all.  I was
even contemplating bringing my spray body glitter to work with me just
to add some highlights to Barb's body paint.

31-28 would be the final score. Seahawks win by 3.

Barb looked at me and said, "Girl, you are getting in way over your
head, but I accept that final bet."  That brought a huge cheer from
the rest of the women from the office, and I said, "OK!"

Then that idiot Pete Carroll called for a pass play and Malcolm Butler
intercepted it on the goal line. As the final whistle blew, Barb
looked me in the eye and said "Strip!"

I did. Then she sat down, lifted her skirt, pointed at her cunt and
said, "Lick!" 

She looked out at the room and said, "Ladies, while Shelly is busy on
my pussy, I think you all need to start warming up her ass.  I think
it's 4 swats each.  And if you were wishing for a bigger point spread,
remember, it will be 4 more twice tomorrow and the next day and the
next, all week.

As I took off the last of my cheerleader outfit, I was suddenly very
sober. I crawled over to where Barb was sitting and put my face
between her legs.  As I started to lick, I heard a loud smack and felt
the fire of a doubled up belt on my ass.  It was going to be a very,
very long week.

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END OF STORY
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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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