Cheerleading Fundraiser

"4 grand? How on earth are we going to raise that sort of money."

"Dunno, we could host a night at the union? Do some sort of raffle? Maybe another calendar?"

"Last time we did a union night we made about £1500, tops. It was a fiver in, I got a mate to DJ, cheap drinks, and it was FULL. There's no way you can make 4k in a night."

She had a point. I was the team captain and therefore on the cheerleading club committee. We wanted to go to the national championships, which were at the end of term. It was 3 days in London and including travel, accommodation, new kit, and paying our coach to come, it was expensive. Seriously expensive.

Sally, the overall club captain, was keen for us to go, but we couldn't bankrupt the club for only 8 of us to attend. And none of us could afford to pay £500 each either, except maybe Helen who had rich parents. For the rest of us £500 was food and beer money for basically a whole term.

"How about we charge £25 entry. That would make it profitable. Even if we only get 200 people, we'd smash 4 grand."

"And how the hell are you going to convince people to pay £25 for a student union night? Most of them are a fiver, maybe a tenner at the most if you've actually heard of the DJ or band."

Poppy piped up, "You know, there's a bar in Ibiza which has a wet t-shirt contest. Winner gets €500. It was free entry for girls to watch but they charge the lads 20 euros. They pay because it's absolutely wild, the girls get proper competitive." Poppy was the publicity officer and by all accounts she was a bit of a slag. I was sure she would have taken part.

"People still won't pay 25 quid to see a wet t-shirt contest," Sally said flatly.

"Ok, so how about a strip contest?" I suggested.

"Well that would certainly bring in the punters. But £25 each? And how are you going to find anyone willing to risk getting naked in front of a crowd of 200+ people?"

"Ok, so the team for the nationals - there's 8 of us right? If were going to go, we gotta fund this thing, so there's your 8 players. Only 1 in 8 chance of losing, I reckon they'd agree. Maybe we could have a cash prize for the winner, you know, to sweeten the deal?"

This was crazy. My mind was racing. I was on the team. It could be ME who ended up naked. And yet somehow, here I was trying to convince Sally that this was a good plan.

In the end, Sally agreed to everything except having a prize for the winner. We fine-tuned the plans over the next week or so. It was my job as team captain to get everyone's agreement.

Surprisingly, given the stakes involved: full nudity in front of 200+ fellow students, they all agreed without too much argument. I mean, I basically said it's this or no national championships...which was true.

The night would be as follows: we would have a DJ, welcome drinks, etc and a 'cheerleading showcase' - basically just a cut down version of our routine on stage. So far, so vanilla. But then the real games would commence.

First up there would be a limbo game, where we would all compete and the loser would get a bucket of water over their head. We would all be wearing white t-shirts, and bras would be forbidden. The loser would be getting soaked.

The second game we called strip can alley. Each of us would have a little pyramid of 6 tins on a small table. A player from the audience would be chosen to throw 3 bean bags at them. We would wear a shirt, skirt, bra and panties.

We'd each have to strip according to how many tins our player managed to knock over: 2 tins = shirt off; 4 tins = skirt off too; 6 tins = bra off; so we were risking being fully topless.

Our panties were not on the line, but if by some chance the throwers were major league baseball pitchers, we could ALL end up topless.

We would be allowed to cover, but at the end of the game, it was agreed that we would all do star jumps together: the number of jumps being determined by the total number of fallen tins, so a maximum of 6 x 8= 48 star jumps. I doubted we'd have to do even half that many given the amount of alcohol the throwers would have consumed, or so I hoped.

The finale was to be a game of strength. We had discussed it at length and while we quickly decided it couldn't involve audience participation, we debated for ages over whether it should be a game of pure luck or involve an element of skill.

In the end, Sally proposed a slightly contrived strength game, with the following rules:

- Each player has a 6lb / 3kg medicine ball

- The ball must be held straight out at arm level for as long as possible.

- The last player standing in each round wins immunity and doesn't have to take part in subsequent rounds.

- Every two rounds, the remaining players each player must remove an item of clothing is lost (shirt, skirt, bra).

- The loser of the final round must strip fully naked and do a predetermined 3 minute cheer routine.

I had to admit, as strip games in front of audience go, this was pretty good. It would be a bit slow, but it would build suspense. There were opportunities for tactical play, and from an audience standpoint, 2 of us would be showing our tits, and one of us would be prancing round fully nude until they had zero secrets left.

Holding a ball up eliminated the ability to cover, but the penalty for the ultimate loser would ensure it remained competitive to the last round.

Over the next few weeks, the committee stepped into gear, booking the union, advertising the event on social media, and generally spreading the word about campus. For obvious reasons our publicity didn't mention nudity - it just had something vague about a cheerleading showcase, cheap drinks and 'cheeky' games.

Everyone baulked at the price. We had agreed that the only way to convince people was by word of mouth and being upfront. We could hardly put "CHEERLEADERS GET NAKED" on the posters.

Every conversation was like "are you kidding - 25 quid!?" followed by one of us saying "yeah yeah, I know, I know...but when we say 'cheeky' we mean nude...like full nude, not a stitch of clothing. No covering, no pasties, nada, naked." Ok so I paraphrase. But word quickly spread that this night was not to be missed.

It's amazing how quickly a 'skint' student will find 25 quid for a ticket when nudity is promised - especially if the nudity involves some 18-21 year old cheerleaders who, let's face it and I don't mean to brag, but they've probably been wanking over at least one of us behind closed doors for most of their time at university anyway.

Surprisingly it wasn't just the men either, plenty of women snapped up tickets. It seemed that even for straight women, the lure of seeing other girls humiliated was just as strong as the sexual attraction felt by the straight men / lesbian contingent.

A full week before the event, we had sold out. 250 tickets @ £25 each, all gone in a fortnight. Even after costs, we'd smashed our 4 grand target. We were going to the Nationals!

I was getting nervous, but I was also totally swamped with uni coursework and training that I didn't have time to think. Before I knew it, the long-awaited Wednesday rolled around.

As a team we were pretty close, but I only really spoke to Hanna, who was my best mate, tell her everything.

As an aside, my name is Sophie; I'm 5ft nothing, 50kg, 30A bra size, though often i don't bother, and dark brown hair down to my shoulders. Hanna on the other hand is just under 6ft tall, with long blonde, wavy hair, 32C boobs and legs that go on for days.

We tell each other everything, chat for hours, gossip about boys, clothes and celebrities..typical female students really. We had fooled around sexually now and again, but both agreed that, while fun, there were times when only a real dick would hit the spot. Sometimes I just wanna get fucked by a flesh and blood cock, and Hannah was the same.

We were sitting together on my bed, listening to music and doing a bit of coursework on our laptops. With no lectures on Wednesday afternoons, and no more cheer competition until the nationals in a few weeks time, we had the afternoon off.

"So for tonight...have you got a plan?" Hanna asked, closing her laptop.

"How do you mean?"

"Like tactics...I'm assuming you don't want to end up naked cheering in front of like, everyone"

"No, I don't, but I hadn't really thought about tactics coming into it. Way I see it, Limbo is basically a test of natural flexibility, and being short is def an advantage"

"Yeah lucky midget," she said playfully.

"Hey, good things come in small packages."

"Unless they're a boy...in which case I'd prefer a large package, please," with emphasis on the large.

"Oh shush you. The tin can alley is basically a game of chance, we've got no control over that, just gotta hope they can't throw. for shit"

"But the ball game, there's a few ways to play it, just got to try and pick your moment," Hanna mused. I wondered what her tactics would be.

"I can't wait to see who loses. I'm fucking terrified, but absolutely buzzing as well."

"Have you...prepared yourself?" she enquired with a little raise of the eyebrows.

"How do you mean?"

"Last time I saw, you were waxed down there."

"Oh...yeah. Still am. Did my legs last night as well."

"I started letting mine grow out a couple of weeks ago...you know, give it some coverage, just in case. But now I'm afraid everyone will think I am some kind of weirdo. And it's been so fucking itchy, I can't sit still."

"Lol have you got a full on wild bush then? With brambles and blackberries and birds nesting in it?"

"Eww no! It's tidy, but yeah, some hair."

"Just leave it...everyone will be looking at your tits anyway."

"Hopefully they'll be looking at YOUR tits and pussy, and I'll still be dressed" she quipped.

It's funny isn't it - we were best friends and yet we still wanted each other to lose. I guess the desire to see someone else embarrassed transcends friendship. We whiled away the afternoon drinking tea and chatting about nothing much, until it was time to head over to the union.

We had all agreed to meet at the union at 5pm, to setup the games, go through the routine, and make sure everything was ready. There would be breaks between the games to change over the stage, get changed and make sure the audience were well oiled, but it was good to run through everything.

Sally, as the club's captain, had given herself the role of compere for the evening, and had roped her boyfriend Ben into being a stage hand. I'd always thought Ben was a bit of a perv and he was probably ecstatic to have a backstage view of proceedings, including a few peeks at us changing outfits between games, but what the hell.

Everyone seemed nervous, like just before a cheerleading competition, except this time, we would be competing against each other. There was a tension - some people quieter than usual, others fidgeting or trying to stay busy, as if it helped them not to overthink it.

The doors opened at 8pm and the place filled up fast. The bar was soon packed 4 or 5 deep with people trying to get drinks, and the DJ had some half decent tunes going. The place was buzzing with excitement.

Around 9, Sally came on stage and made a little speech about how grateful she was that everyone had attended to support the club, yada yada, and how she was sure it would be worth their while. Then we came out for the showcase - complete with pompoms, shiny kit and short skirts.

Seeing the crowd for the first time made my heart flutter. 250 people is ALOT. I recognised a couple of faces, from my lectures, from other sports teams, including one guy who I'd had a one night stand with a few weeks back which was a disaster. Big muscly rugby player with gorgeous arms that made me gooey, but a tiny dick that he couldn't get hard. What a disappointment.

We were used competing outdoors on the sports field or inside a big sports hall, so being in a relatively small space and on stage was weird. The audience felt so close, it was hot and sweaty and the lights were harsh.

As we went through our well-practised routine, there was a somewhat sinister sexual energy in the crowd - the boys seemed to stare more intently as we kicked, jumped and waved through our routine. About 10 minutes later, it was all over - totally regulation performance.

Safely backstage, we all quickly changed into the regulation white t-shirts that had been purchased specifically for the Limbo game. Every expense had been spared: they were almost comically thin. If we'd been wearing bras, the colours would have been easily discernible. Sally, leaving nothing to chance, had washed and tumble dried them several times to make sure they would be super-absorbent for whoever lost.

Everyone shrugged off a sports bra of some sort, and I caught a few glimpses of my team mates. I'd seen them all naked before, but somehow everyone was more shy now, changing quickly and keeping as covered as possible.

Once we we all ready, Sally made us pick a card to determine the order we would be competing in. Then she went out and introduced us to the audience, who were now eagerly awaiting the beginning of the games they were really here to see.

"Player 1 - Sophie Lloyd!"

I stepped out into the bright lights again still not quite believing the size of the audience.

"Player 2 - Hanna Baker!"

I was a bit annoyed Hanna got a louder cheer than me, but then, she did have bigger tits. Boys are just simple creatures I guess.

Player 3 was Sandra, a black girl with a killer look: loud, brash and confident. Emily was 4th, a slightly chubby (by cheerleading standards) brunette with a shy demeanour. She had phenomenal tits though, full plump globes that she normally secured in a supportive sports bra, but were now stretching her thin t-shirt to the max.

Sinead was 5th, a fiery redhead, who was only a couple of inches taller than me and with only slightly bigger boobs.

Player 6 was Jess, mid-height, B-cup boobs, everything in proportion, but nothing particularly standout. She was slightly bookish, but very kind and friendly.

Player 7 was Helen, a tall, shy, girl next door type, who always had her hair in a simple ponytail and never wore make up. And finally there was Chen, a fairly tall girl of Chinese origin, with perky little boobs and gorgeous skinny legs. Although her skin was light brown, her areola were clearly visible through the shirt as they were very dark.

Sally explained the rules to the crowd,"The rules are as follows. Each player has two attempts to pass under the bar. If every player passes successfully, the bar will be lowered for the next round.

The first player to fail on their second attempt is the loser. They will sit in the chair, have their hands tied behind their back and get a bucket of ice-cold water on their head. If more than one player fails on the second round, there will be a third attempt at the same height. If they still cannot be separated, then ALL the players who have failed will get wet."

Shit. Sally was a bitch. We hadn't agreed to having our hands tied, but what could we do. We could hardly argue with her on stage. I caught Hanna's eye and she raised an eyebrow. She had noticed too, but we kept quiet.

We had agreed to start with the bar pretty high - I barely had to duck to get under. This was just to waste time and build suspense really. We all passed the first couple of rounds easily, and the third was basically without incident, except when Helen stood up a bit too quickly and dislodged the bar. This generated a few gasps from the crowd, but she passed easily on the second attempt.

By round 5, some people were struggling. The t-shirts were not helping, as the girls with larger boobs bent backwards, the shirt would pull tight against their chest, clearly showing the shape of their tits, and in some cases, a clear nipple imprint.

On round 6, Hanna, Sandra and Helen all failed at their first attempt. Hanna caught her under-boob on the bar, Sandra was judged to have put a knee down as she staggered through, and Helen simply overbalanced and landed flat on her back, much to the audience's amusement.

The three of them lined up for their second tries and the audience fell quiet, but by some miracle they all passed at the second attempt

Now it was really tough. On round 7, Hanna, Helen and Jess failed at their first attempts. Sandra just about scraped through. I was starting to feel like I was approaching my limit. I really wanted someone to fail.

Hanna scraped through on her second attempt and I breathed a sigh of relief for her. Jess was next and she went slowly. It was painful to watch as she tentatively approached the bar and started bending backwards, further and further, inching forwards. Eventually her legs gave out and she fell backwards. "Noo!" she shouted, but the crowd soon drowned her out with cheers.

The crowd were hoping for a tie-break, or even better a double loss, but Helen made it through unscathed.

"And we have our Loser!" Sally announced gleefully. "Jess, please take a seat."

She grudgingly moved across to the plastic chair that had been placed in a paddling pool to contain the water. There were two large buckets, maybe 5 litres each, behind it.

Sally quickly tied her hands behind her back with a ribbon, not exactly tight but it would be enough to stop her covering. It also pushed her chest out towards the crowd. She picked up the bucket and stood just behind her and off to one side. This is when she surprised me - I had expected her to just dump the water over Jess' head, but she didn't.

She poured it, slowly, taking great delight in making sure a steady stream of water came over her head, soaking her hair, and then gradually starting to make her t-shirt turn see-through. The crowd cheered and hollered as her nipples were clearly visible and instantly rock hard, the t-shirt clinging to her skin, and enhanced by the spotlights on her. Her nipples were a dark red, and clearly visible under the lights.

Sally finished with a flourish dumping the last third or so of the bucket over her. She stood back and said a few things to the crowd, before picking up the second bucket. I can't remember what she said, but it seemed to just drag out Jess' humiliation.

To be fair, she just sat there and waited - nothing much she could do really with her hands tied. After what seemed like an age, Sally poured the second bucket over her head, by which point she was completely sopping wet and shivering. Finally Sally untied her and told the audience to look forward to the second game in half an hour's time.

We all got backstage again and Jess was given a towel to dry off.

"Fuck, I can't believe Sally made me sit there for so long. I'M FREEZING!" she moaned.

There were no changing rooms, so she just stripped, struggling to get the soaking wet t-shirt over her head and eventually just ripping it off. Her perky nipples could have cut glass. I caught Ben having a not-so-sneaky peek behind the curtain and gave him daggers which made him go away.

She wrapped herself in the towel and managed to take her skirt and undies off underneath. Leaving her soaked outfit in a heap, she got a second one from her bag. Sensibly she had brought a spare underwear set as well - just a simple t-shirt bra and plain black panties, but at least they were dry.

It wasn't long before Sally came round to tell us to line up for the second game. This time we were in a different order, from left to right: Sandra, Hannah, Helen, Jess, Emily, Sinead, Me (Sophie) and finally Chen.

Sally tapped the mic and brought out her best compere voice to quieten the crowd. We filed out and Sally chose 8 boys from the audience and positioned them next to each of us, with the cans stacked up behind on little tables. The stage felt crowded.

"Player 1, take your position."