For my prom I was dressed in a mauve lace tulle dress that was light and felt like a thousand dollars. This was helped by Chris being my date. I mean Chris, the hottest guy in the year.

You had chosen a green chiffon dress with a tie back for the evening and with your blonde hair looked every part the sex bomb and had Steve for your date for the night.

The evening was going great with much dancing and drinking and a night I wished would go on forever. Chris was being particularly kind and attentive all night. When the evening came to a close, a large limo came to pick us up. Two other friends of the guys, Brad and James who had no dates for the night poured into the limo with us to set off home so I thought.

However in the middle of nowhere the limo turned off down a track and stopped to let us out. The guys hauled out beers and tequila and vodka by the crate load and placed it on the ground along with a speaker for music. They urged us out of the car to join them; you don't hesitate and persuade me, telling me I cannot leave you on your own. The limo drives off, the guys assuring us it is just 15 minutes away waiting for a call.

I glance around soaking up the warm summer air, admiring the nearby lake but making a mental note to stay on the high ground where we were because of a mud flat between us and the lake.

I am not sure how long we messed around and drank and danced, but I seemed to find myself stuck dancing with fat nerdy James with his octopus hands constantly on my ass or trying to exploit the long split at the front of my dress. All of a sudden my date, Chris, seemed to be paying me no attention and was deep in conversation with you the whole time.

Eventually I had had enough and wanted to go home, but just as I decided to ask you to leave with me and get the guys to call the limo to pick us up, I see you and Chris start a huge kissing embrace.

I am furious and stride over to you and grab an arm to try and pull you away from Chris. Taken by surprise, I am able to swing you around towards the softer ground and watch as you trip over your own ankles, crumpling to the ground. In the moonlight I can see that the back of your chiffon dress is wet and muddy from the damp ground you are sitting on, your face red with rage.

I cannot help but laugh at your predicament, the four guys now gathering around me laughing heartily as well. You leap to your feet and charge towards me on the slippy surface. I start to back away now, but the four guys are behind me, using their arms to block my retreat.

I cannot avoid you as you come at me, a scoopful of mud in each hand, and although I put my hands out to defend myself, you manage to smear the mud onto my dress around my breasts.

We grapple again as the guys chant "fight fight fight" and slow handclap as we grapple with each other, the hems of our delicate dresses trailing in the wet mud as our stiletto's sink into the ground. I see you look down in determination for a moment before stabbing the bottom of my dress with your heel and then a determined roar as you manage to throw me off balance. There is a loud ripping noise as the base of my dress tears apart; just 4 or 5 inches, but the destruction of it seems far greater.

I have fallen onto my hands and knees, the bottom front of my dress now in the mud from the knee down. There is a loud cheer from the guys and I look up heartbroken to see you parading and fist pumping to the guys. You have your back to me, your green dress saturated in mud from your ass, all the way to the hem. But I also notice that one of the guys has cheekily undone the tie at the back of the dress which you don't seem to have noticed.

Inspired by this I get to my feet again and approach you. You turn to face me and we grapple standing up again, arm to arm. I notice in the struggle that your shoulder straps are getting looser and looser as the spaghetti strap loosens at the back. At an opportune moment, I manage to get a hold of the top of your dress and yank it down. There is nothing now to stop the dress coming down below your now naked breasts, which causes an instant wolf whistle from one of the guys now behind you.

You decide to reciprocate in kind and with both hands pull the top of my dress apart. The tan coloured mesh holding its form disintegrates instantly down to the tulle fabric below my breasts. But rather than expose me you step back and haughtily pull the top of your dress back up over your breasts.

For a moment we look at each other, both breathing heavily. I have my back to the soft mudflat down to the lake whereas you have the slightly higher ground, your back to the boys behind you that continue to chant "fight fight fight".

I cannot deal with the heels any more and with a watchful eye on you, I reach down to take them off. I can see there is still a furious anger in your eyes and that the fight is not over. You decide to do likewise and so we face up to each other in bare feet, our expensive trashed shoes discarded in the mud.

You charge at me again and we start to grapple. However you have the momentum and the slight slope. I step back and lean into you but find my feet sliding on the soft mud as we move to the wetter mud and water. Eventually I bend my knees slightly and we both fall together onto our knees, facing each other in soft mud underneath a couple of inches of water. Both of our dresses from the knees down are now saturated and mostly muddy.

You decide to grab the delicate outer layer of my dress and despite my trying to stop you, start tearing handfuls of it away, the fabric giving an almost erotic tearing sound for the four guys that are gathered around us again.

As I am not strong enough to stop you, I decide to grab a handful of the outer layer of your chiffon dress. The light fabric tears satisfyingly just as easily as my dress is being torn by you. None of this seems to stop your frantic ripping of the outer layer of my dress, and I can see strips of tulle hanging off me or torn off completely.

So I change tack and reach into the mud which is easy to do and seeing the top of your dress is sitting forwards slightly I manage to deposit the mud inside your dress top and smear it across your upper chest.

You retaliate to the mud down the front of your dress by stopping the ripping of my dress and start to throw wet mud at me from just a couple of feet away. I respond in kind to the barrage of mud hitting my chest and face,. The four guys are whooping and hollering in delight at this spectacle.

Both of our dresses from the waist up are now more brown than their original colours, but we keep up the mud throwing. Then a particularly large piece hits me in the eyes, and for a moment I am blinded. Spitting other mud out of my mouth, I focus on clearing my sight. But before I can do that I feel your hands at the front of my dress gripping it hard.

You pull it apart as hard as you can, the front ripping down to my navel. You continue the action, pulling the front of my dress clear of my boobs, and then yanking the shoulder straps down my upper arms to my elbows. In this situation my arms are severely restricted by my shoulder straps, but my eyesight is clear enough to see you face to face.

"OK you boring slut, time to get those little milky white tits of yours muddy" and with that you pull me forward with my torn dress top and faceplant me headlong, face down in the mud and water.

I am now helpless face down in the mud, spluttering from the foul water, with you kneeling in front of my head. You have grabbed hold of my hair and I feel my tight bun unravel as you pull my head up and splash me down again. I am coughing and spluttering, trying to gasp air when my face is out of the water. You just keep hurling insults and laughing at me as you humiliate me further.

I realise that the only way now to fight back is to free my arms from the straps of my dress, even though this will leave my dress hanging around my waist and totally topless. But that doesn't seem to matter now. I manage to get my left arm to pull down my right strap and free my arm and then my left arm easily frees the right.

You don't seem to notice what I am doing and are taken off guard when I suddenly press up with both arms and create enough momentum to head-butt you in the stomach. I think I may have winded you as you seem in shock and so continue my momentum, pushing you backwards. You cry out in pain as being on your knees, and falling backwards over stretches your ligaments and you have no choice but to turn onto your side as you fall headlong back into the muddy water.

As you try to crawl and get up, I can see your wet and muddy dress clinging to your every contour from behind and legs. But I barely hesitate as I want revenge. Before you can get up I manage to sit astride your back, facing towards your feet and grunt loudly as I grab at the outer chiffon layer of your dress and pull it apart, a feeling of satisfaction as I hear the sodden material tear.

I am in such a frenzy of revenge that I don't even think about the fact that I am completely topless, albeit my breasts and front are covered in wet mud. I just keep tearing strips of chiffon off the outer layer of your dress, leaving you clad from the back waist down in just the polyester under-skirt.

But even this isn't satisfying my rage, and so even though the split in your dress is at the front of your left thigh I decide to pull either side of the dress with all my might, happily watching you wiggling and squirming face down underneath me, screaming obscenities non-stop.

Finally with a huge grunt I feel the seam weakening and with a final effort there is the satisfying sound of the seam tearing. I keep pulling and it keeps tearing up to the horizontal seam of the high waistband.

As I do this, I look across at the four guys and notice that they are taking off their tuxedo jackets and laying them carefully over a large tree branch well away from the mud.

In this moment of lack of concentration you manage to twist and use an arm to unbalance me and cast me off you. I splash onto my side into the mud again and you are quickest to recover diving on top of me. We are grappling now, head to head, rolling over and over in the mud, both of us now completely muddy and wet trying to gain an advantage.

As we roll over and over, I frantically pull on your dress front; with the straps undone, they unravel from the eyes and easily enough I have the front of your dress down, your boobs already covered in mud. You retaliate by grabbing at my dress either side of the split and start to pull.

Eventually the fabric weakens and there is a huge tear up above my waist, revealing my once white lacy panties to the guys still watching our fight. In a brief moment I look up and see that the guys are now taking off their shirts and trousers and again placing them safely above the muddy ground over the large tree branch.

Realising that your dress, already split above your waist is revealing your black muddied thong, I decide to reach in and try to drag it down. I make a little progress before you panic and start to try to kick me away as my head gets lower down to see what I am doing.

Eventually a flailing kick from you makes contact with the side of my head, sending me onto my back away from you. You get up, dragging your thong back up but ignoring your exposed boobs as your dress hangs round your waist. You grab an ankle and start to walk backwards, dragging me on my back through the mud, my torn dress quickly dragged behind me, leaving me naked save for my panties from the waist down.

This is getting a huge cheer now from the guys, who without exception are down to just their boxer shorts, erections standing out like tent poles in front of them. Despite my kicking I am helpless to free myself from your grip.

Then you stop, and I see that Chris is standing behind you. "Having fun ladies" he shouts out above our heavy breathing and for a moment there is silence. Then you start laughing as I lie there in the mud, desperately trying to grab bits of my dress to cover myself.