There’s no doubt about it: being the lead singer of probably the biggest all-girl bluegrass bands in the country makes me feel like I’m the sexiest musician on the planet. Looking around at the band and seeing the girls in corsets and push-up dresses, and then looking at the audience and seeing the men not knowing which of us to ogle first, always makes me feel like I had all the power in the world. The rest of the band says I let it go to my head, and I say: so what?

Now the time had come to expand past our loyal live audience base; to cut a record. And a great record it was too, full of heart and soul and grit, and sounding every bit as sexy as when we played live.

We were going full-on country for the album cover, setting up a kind of “damsel in distress” scene on an old railway track. And you can guess who the damsel in distress was going to be.

“Looking hot, Lyla,” Cassie said to me, “But you do realise we’re going to have to ruff that pretty little outfit up a bit, don’t ya?”

Cassie, like the others, was showing a lot more skin than me, even with my bare midriff. Albeit most of the skin they were showing was chest. If there was one thing you could never say about Cassie, or Liv or Stacey, it was that they weren’t well endowed. Those push-up tops made their chests look like mountains to climb, and looking at Dave, the photographer, I think we’d have at least one willing volunteer prepared to die on any of those hills.

“Don’t get carried away, Cass,” I told her, “I’m growing fond of this blouse, and I never thought I’d look so good in denim skinnies, but whaddya know? Yet another outfit I’m gorgeous in.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too attached to it,” she said with a wink. I don’t know why, though, because I’m sure the prop team would let me keep it afterwards.

It had seemed a bit plain at first, I had to admit. A checked blouse tied at the midriff and tight jeans. But I was meant to be the weak and feeble country girl at the hands of these four viscous outlaws and a little bit dressed down but vulnerable. All for the purposes of the photoshoot, of course. As I was the petite one of the band I often felt helpless in their hands anyway. They all towered over me, and they all flirted with me too, even the ones with girlfriends. I think me being the straight one brought it on even more, because for all the joking about trying to turn me to the other side they knew they could flirt safe in the knowledge that I wouldn’t reciprocate. Well, I might flirt back a bit, just for fun, but nothing more.

“Ready girls?” Dave called out from behind the camera, somewhat patronisingly I thought.

I stood in the centre of the tracks and the four of them arranged themselves around me, two holding me by the wrists and two by the waist.

“Great,” Dave said, “But it looks like Lyla’s the ringleader, not like you’ve just kidnapped her.”

“What do you want us to do?” Liv called back.

“I dunno. Just improvise,” Dave said, “And I’ll keep shooting.”

Liv looked at Mel and shrugged. I don’t think they were impressed with Dave.

“‘Improvise’,” Liv repeated, “What does that mean?”

“We can do this,” Cassie said, “How about we plan to end up with Lyla being held down across the train tracks and do whatever it takes to get her there.”

“And what do I do?” I asked.

“Struggle, I guess. Make it look real.”

I pulled my hand and it slipped easily from Cassie’s grip.

“Like that?” I asked mockingly.

Cassie grabbed my wrist again and pulled it towards her.

“Try it again,” she taunted. I did, but there was no way I was getting myself free now. She was much stronger than I was, and so was Mel now holding my other wrist just as tightly.

“What about us?” Liv asked.

“I dunno,” Cassie said, “Rough her up a bit or something?”

“Rough me up a bit?” I questioned, “No thanks.”

Liv reached under my arm and grabbed at the lapel of my checked blouse and pulled, revealing a large amount of chest, and just a little bit of white bra.

“Great stuff!” Dave called out, clicking away and adjusting settings on his tripod-mounted camera.

Stacey reached under my other arm and pulled at the other lapel and the blouse strained across my chest, buttons almost at breaking point.

“Superb!” Dave encouraged, “More of this!”

“Give it a good rip,” Cassie goaded Stacey and Liv.

“No!” I cried as Stacey and Liv pulled in unison. They were far too strong and the top two buttons tore from their threads, suddenly giving way to their pull before the tie around my midriff took the strain again. The blouse gaped half open across my torso, held closed by only a thin strip knotted across my stomach.

“Stop that!” I told them, trying to wriggle free of Mel and Cassie’s grip, but their grip on my wrists was too tight.

“Fantastic!” Dave called across to us, “The more ragged Lyla’s clothes the sexier she’s getting.”

“That’s not the point!” I called back.

“Pop a jean button or two,” Cassie told Stacey.

“Do not do that,” I said, turning to Stace and continuing to struggle.

She reached around my waist and I kicked my legs to try to upset her grip, but Liv wrapped her arms around me and lifted me clear of the ground so that Stacey could unbutton my jeans. She slid the fly halfway down and then gave the waistband a yank until the jeans stuck on my hips, just above my knicker line.

Liv lowered me to the ground and I glared at her. Stacey took advantage of my distraction to grip both collars of my blouse and pull at them, baring my shoulders.

“Great stuff, but I’m afraid that bra strap doesn’t look very country,” Dave called out.

“You think you can get rid of it?” Cassie asked Liv. I glared at them both but Liv jgnored me and grinned back at Cassie.

“You bet I can.”

She slipped her hand under the back of my cropped blouse and found the bra clasp easily.

“Don’t you dare!” I told her.

“Dave?” she asked, “Got any scissors?”

“Yeah, sure. In the toolbox.”

Liv walked over to the toolbox and came back with a large pair of gleaming scissors.

“Don’t you dare! I’m telling you!” I repeated.

She slipped her fingers between my shoulder and my bra strap and I felt cold steel against skin before – snip! – there was a sudden loosening around my left breast. Then a second later the other shoulder and – snip! – my right strap was also cut.

As Liv threw the scissors to one side Stacey reached her hand around my front, gripped my bra from beneath my cropped shirt tie and pulled at it.

I looked down, grateful that the blouse was just about covering my nipples, if not much else of my breasts. Liv tossed my shredded bra out of shot.

“You better buy me a new bra,” I told her.

“You’re so small you don’t need one anyway,” she retorted. I glared back.

“Fantastic girls!” Dave called out.

“Lay her down on the tracks,” Cassie instructed, and as she and Melheld my hands I was helplessly lifted off my feet by Stacy and Liv’s gripping my ankles. Together they lowered me down and stretched across the track.

At least I could kick my legs a bit now, although all four of them were far too strong to have any effect.

“You make great shapes when you struggle, Lyla,” Dave called out.

“This’ll make her struggle some,” Liv said, and still holding my leg easily in one hand she reached to my waist, gripped the waistband of my jeans and tugged.

I was grateful that the fly was only half unzipped, because any more and the denim would have passed over my hips.

I tried to kick my legs again, almost landing a foot on Liv’s jaw.

“Stop kicking or we’ll make it worse for you,” Cassie said.

“Worse for me? How can you make it worse for me?”

With her free hand she reached for the tie at the front of my blouse and tugged it towards her.

“I can make it this way worse for you,” she said.

“No! Don’t!” was all I could say, but I stopped kicking and she stopped pulling.

Liv reached for my waistband and tugged at it, matching Stacey’s pull. I looked down at my jeans, stretched tight over my hips, the band of my white underwear almost showing… They pulled and pulled, and the jeans held tight, and they pulled again… and the cheap zip tore apart, freeing the denim to slip over my hips and down to my thighs.

I looked down at my white underwear.

“Very sexy, girls,” Dave called out, “But white panties in the old west? C’mon.”

“Scissors, I think.” Cassie told Mel, and she took my wrist from Mel, effortless holding me in place, and Mel fetched the scissors once more.

“I’m going to kill you all,” I said down to her as she snipped through the white waistband of my underwear on both sides of my hips, pulled it from between my legs and tossed it onto what used to be my bra.

I looked down at myself, privates bare to the sky, and bare to their eyes, but at least hidden from the camera by my cocked leg.

“This is great!” Dave said, “And as long as you keep that leg bent, Lyla, we’ll be able to use this for the cover no problem.”

“We are not using this for the cover!” I told them all.

“Not when there’s better to come yet, eh girls?” Cassie said to the other three. Then with a wink: “I think you know what to do.”

Stacey and Liv, still gripping the waistband of my jeans, continued to pull. I watched the blue denim disappear down my legs. I was helpless to do anything about it, and even struggling and kicking became harder as the denim bunched around my ankles. I was bare from calf to midriff, and I was powerless to stop what they were doing to me.

Stacey used her free hand to grip my shin, and Liv did the same, and they slipped my shoes off of my feet and then effortlessly took my jeans from me. They threw them onto the pile of tattered clothes. I guess at least the jeans were still intact so I’d have something to put back on afterwards.

“You play the damsel in distress very well,” Liv said, standing over me as Stacey held my legs.

“I am in distress!” I complained, looking down at my near naked body. They’d never let me live this down either.

“I don’t think it’s going to get much better than this,” Dave said, standing straight and looking at us rather than through the camera. I breathed a sigh of relief that it might finally be over.

“It can always get better,” Cassie said, and she returned her hand to my blouse’s tie, gripped the end in her fingers and pulled.

I glared at her as the knot uncurled, but I knew by now that nothing I said would stop her. I tried not to look down as the half that she held in her hand lifted away from my body, and the free half slid from my breast and onto the railway track beneath me.

She reached for the loose flap of cotton and I thought maybe she would arrange it artfully to cover me for the camera, but no: she just pulled it towards her, over my head, and I felt it riding along my upper arms.

Further it went, slipping out from beneath my back, uncurling over my elbows, up my forearms, and as Mel went from holding my wrists to holding my forearms Cassie continued to pull, slipping the blouse over my hands and then throwing it to one side.

I took a deep breath as I looked up at her.

“I’m not sure we can use this,” Dave said, snapping pictures of me stretched out naked, held to the ground over the railway tracks. “Record companies don’t take kindly to naked ladies on the fronts of albums.”

“What about nearly naked?” Stacey said as she slipped my heels back onto my feet. The rest of them laughed. I did not.

“Probably not,” Dave said.

“Shame,” Cassie said, standing over me and looking me up and down, “Because Lyla sure does look mighty fine.”

“Hey Dave,” Liv continued, stepping closer to me before squatting, “How about if I do this?”

She reached a hand across my body and rested her fingers across my nipple.

“That might do it!” Dave called back, “As long as you can keep Lyla’s leg’s cocked a little Stacey?”

“I sure can.”

I didn’t need to look down to know that Liv had covered just the barest part of my nipple for the camera, or to know that it was now standing erect against her fingers. She glanced at me and winked.

“Nice nipples,” she said, quiet enough for everyone except Dave to hear.

“Nice everything,” Cassie said with a smirk. I felt myself blushing. I hoped the camera wouldn’t pick it up, but I knew for sure that the rest of the band had.

“Look as much as you want,” I teased them, “Because you’ll never have me.”

“I’m fine with just this bit,” Liv said, her finger stroking my nipple almost imperceptibly. I closed my eyes as a tingle of pleasure ran through my body.

“And just in case I better cover this bit,” Cassie said, crouching beside Liv and touching the back of her hand to my opposite nipple.

I jumped a little before regaining my composure. From intense embarrassment I now I hoped Dave would wind things up quickly before I became too aroused.

“Okay,” Dave called over, “I think this is a wrap. But I have an idea for the inside sleeve. How do you all feel about having some one-on-ones taken with Lyla?”

They all looked at each other and beamed.

“No!” I protested.

“But then you’ll be in every single photo, more than any of us,” Cassie teased.

“I don’t want to be! We’re not doing it.”

“Outvoted,” Cassie said, her hand stroking my breast.

“Good,” Mel said, “Because lovely as these ankles are to hold, I’m very jealous of you two.”

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If you liked this story, then you’ll love “Stripped By The Queen Of Pop”, out now for the Amazon Kindle.