A Gift Amongst Friends

This chapter immediately picks up from the ending of Chapter 8,

in medias res

. It has been a few years between chapters, so I recommend going back and rereading that chapter if you have not done so in a while. It's not required, but the opening sequence may be a little confusing without that context.

As always, feedback is appreciated. I read all of your comments, even when I don't post anything for years at a time. At this time, I have some ideas for Chapter 10, but I cannot confirm if it will ever happen. We shall see.

**********

Mandy felt ashamed of herself.

It was a strange feeling, given everything that had transpired over the past few months of her life. However, there was a comfort in knowing she could still feel shame after all she had done. It meant there were still lines that she knew she should not cross.

Unfortunately, tonight she had now crossed that line without so much as a moment's hesitation. A younger version of herself would hardly recognize the woman that she had become.

Barely able to stand, she wobbled on unsteady legs as she carefully stepped into her skirt. She paused for a second, wondering where her underwear had gone. She soon remembered that they were several rooms away, on the floor of her neighbor's washroom.

"Leaving already?"

Mandy felt dazed by the question, almost forgetting for a second that she was not alone. The words were coming from Paul, who was just returning to the kitchen.

Mom's coworker

, she thought. She could still feel his cum on her face and in her hair.

He placed her cellphone on the kitchen table--the same table that she had just been fucked on. Even in her drunken state of mind, she felt another wave of shame.

He just copied my entire picture gallery

...

She had not seen him do it, but she knew. All of her private photos--a collection of nude and embarrassing poses, of both herself and her best friend Sarah--now belonged to this older man that was friends with her parents. And that also meant the pictures would soon belong to everyone else in the room.

Five sets of eyes were fixated on her every move. Five older men watched her struggle to pull her skirt back up over her hips. Her large C-cup breasts were still exposed, and she could feel her pink nipples hardening again under all of this unwanted attention. These five men that she had known since she was a child were gawking at her without a hint of tact or subtlety.

And why should they be subtle?

she thought.

They learned firsthand what kind of girl I am

.

She could still feel their seed inside of her every hole, marking her forever as their property. The feeling was degrading and euphoric.

Mandy felt like she was having an out of body experience. She was at her neighbor's house, but her mind was a million miles away. The situation was so ridiculous that it must certainly be a dream...

But the dream did not end, and the men continued to watch her fumble at finding the opening of her yellow tank top. She suddenly remembered that Paul had asked her a question.

"Yeah..." she replied meekly. The top continued to allude her as she stood awkwardly in nothing but a wrinkled skirt and a pair of socks. Her perky breasts heaved with each deep breath, hanging bare for everyone to see. She could feel semen running down her inner thigh. "I should go home and get another shower."

Paul stepped closer to her. "Just stay a bit longer," he assured, putting an arm around her shoulder. Mandy stopped fidgeting with the shirt, deciding it was beyond her inebriated and flustered capabilities. "Arthur's got a perfectly good shower here, don't you Art?"

As his arm guided her, Mandy felt herself float from the kitchen towards the stairs. The top slipped from her fingers as she ascended, followed closely by the other men. She barely noticed or cared as the blue skirt was slipped back down over her hips and dropped near the top of the stairwell.

She felt like a whore and a goddess, both at the same time. These older men had used her like an object, and they were not done with her yet.

"...Maybe just a little longer." The words came from her lips, but they did not feel like her own. Her mind was exhausted, but her body evidently wanted more. More stimulation, more adrenaline, and more endorphins.

In her 1

st

year Psychology course, Mandy had learned about researchers that trained dogs to positively respond to the sound of a bell. The dogs would salivate instinctively at the sound, anticipating a treat and the pleasure of eating it.

She wondered if her own body had become similarly trained to a different stimulus--sexual attention, objectification, or perhaps even degradation. As her older neighbor firmly grabbed her round ass cheek, another release of dopamine coursed through her brain. As her former principal called her a slut, she could feel her body salivate in a very different way. As she stepped into the hot shower and her former gym teacher told her to strike a pose for the camera, she knew she was ready for round two.

Mandy lost track of time. She remembered the warmth of the shower, the attention her body received, and the cold air when the water was turned off. She remembered being guided to the bed and how eagerly she fell to it. Her wet hair dripped profusely and left a trail of water across the floor and the bedsheets. The rest of the night was a blur as her holes were filled, loads were emptied inside of her, and humiliating pictures were taken.

Her mind was a mess of overstimulation and lost inhibition. She begged them for more, and they took turns obliging her desperate pleas. Her body writhed until she could feel herself being held down and pinned to the bed, unable to move. Her mouth was full, her pussy was full, and a single finger was deep inside of her asshole, demonstrating that no part of her body was off limits. She could no longer speak, nor could she remember how to form words.

The men did more than fuck her, they dominated her. If her experience in the kitchen had been a test of her boundaries, she had failed miserably and was now willingly bound to the consequences. She lost track of the myriad of combinations with which the men bent her, twisted her, and otherwise pleasured themselves with her.

If she had been more coherent, Mandy would have been surprised and impressed by their stamina. However, for now she was more concerned about whether her own body could withstand the ordeal.

She was on her back, crying obscenities without a care in the world. This was no dormitory, and it was highly unlikely that anyone would hear her aside from these five men. Her image as a respectable woman was already tarnished in their eyes. She was damaged goods, and no amount of cursing and whimpering in pleasure could worsen whatever they must already think of her.

She vaguely recalled being spanked by her former gym teacher. She could barely remember which of the men had grabbed her by the temples and aggressively fucked her face. She lost track of the slutty things they instructed her to say to the camera. As the night came to an end, Mandy could not even remember which was the last man to cum inside of her.

The men were gone and soon only she and Arthur remained. Without the other guys, he quickly reverted to the same old neighbor she had always known. He graciously helped her get dressed, even helping to locate the thong she left in the downstairs washroom. He helped walk her down the stairs when her own legs felt unsteady.

And as she stepped back out into the cold night air, she heard the loud click as he locked the door behind her. Alone, Mandy looked at her phone.

3:36am? Fuck...

Fortunately, the alcohol was finally starting to wear off enough that she could quietly sneak back into her house. Her mother was almost certainly home by now, but based on the darkness in the house, she must have gone to bed. Mandy hoped that her mother had not noticed her missing.

She let out a sigh of relief as she stealthily reached the top of the stairs and found her bedroom door closed. If she had left it open, then her mother certainly would have noticed her missing. Slipping inside, Mandy quickly undressed and examined herself in the mirror.

Her body was still tender from her night as entertainment for Arthur and his friends. Her nipples were swollen from the hours of constant attention they had received. White streaks painted areas of her body where semen had dried to her skin.

She desperately wanted to take a third shower of the night, but that would risk waking her mother.

There's no way that a 4am shower isn't going to invite a whole lot of questions and suspicion.

Instead of a shower, she went to the washroom and wetted a cloth. She wiped as many of the streaks as she could find, shuddering at the thought of how many men's semen was now soaked into this single cloth. She tried to wash her hair in the sink as best as she could.

Putting on a clean pair of panties and nothing else, Mandy was already asleep by the time her head touched the pillow.

Fortunately, she did not need a cover story the next day. It was a stroke of luck, because she had forgotten to think of one. In fact, her mother seemed pretty hungover as well. Mandy had seen her mother drunk and hungover before, but it was not a common sight.

But I've been away from home for a while and mom's single now

, she thought

.

Mandy understood better than most people how a person can change in a relatively short time.

Good for her if she's going out and having some fun with her friends.

And as an added bonus, it made it easier for Mandy to hide her own rough shape. She did not want her mother to notice her massive hangover or how she struggled to climb up the stairs. She did not want her mother to hear her groan each time she bent over or physically exerted herself.

She finally bit the bullet and decided to take acetaminophen, along with all of the memories it stirred from the dorm. It helped, but her body was still sore for the next few days.

Mandy avoided spending any time outside of the house so that she did not have to see her neighbor. She was certain now that her life would never go back to normal, and she was not certain what her new benchmark for 'normal' would even be.

Best case scenario, I get my shit sorted out and never do anything like that again...

But even that would not be normal. Arthur had fucked her. Mr. Richards and Mr. Mathews had fucked her. Her mother's coworkers, Ian and Paul, had fucked her. All of them had witnessed her at her most vulnerable, naked, drooling, and begging for every one of her holes to be filled again and again. How could she ever sit in her backyard again, knowing Arthur might see her? What if she ran into one of them in town? What if her mother invited her coworkers over for a barbeque?

Would they tell anyone? Would her parents find out? Could her mother lose her job?

Worst case scenario, they are going to fuck me again because they now I would let them do it.

It did not take long for Mandy to start looking for other sexual outlets to relieve some of the pressure that was constantly building inside of her.

Almost a full week after her gangbang, she decided to borrow her mother's car and go shopping for summer clothes and some new underwear. While there were a few shops in her hometown, she found their selection frustratingly limited. She preferred to make the two-hour drive to a larger city that had more malls and more options.

It happened innocently and rather uneventfully at first. She was in a changing room, topless from the waist up when she heard footsteps and a noise as someone tried to open her changing room door. Her arms shot to her chest as the doorknob rattled.

The door was locked and did not open. The footsteps receded as the stranger realized that the room was occupied and apparently moved on to another one.

Mandy's heart raced. Nothing had happened, but in that split second she had expected a different outcome. In that moment, she did not recall if the door was locked. For the blink of an eye, she thought that it would open and her topless body would be exposed. She did not even know if it had been a man or a woman--although a woman would be more likely, given that the store predominantly sold women's clothing.

Who knows

, she thought.

It might be fun and less threatening if a woman were to see me

. Mandy had only ever had one lesbian encounter, and it had been a very public one. Technically, she could probably count her photoshoot with Sarah as a second lesbian experiment.

Mandy still did not know whether to consider herself bisexual. Almost every one of her sexual encounters were with men, and most of her depraved fantasies seemed to include men. However, she still felt butterflies each time she thought about being intimate with another woman.

In her changing room, her heart was still pounding from the thrill of her near-exposure. Thirty minutes later, in another store, in another changing room, the next time was no accident.

The door swung open and Mandy froze, topless in a pair denim cut-off booty shorts. She quickly turned to find another woman staring back at her. The woman was probably around thirty years-old. She was shorter than Mandy and somewhat thicker, but had cute facial features. She wore thick-framed glasses and had several tattoos on her arms. Overall, she had a pop-geek vibe that Mandy found alluring.

The girl's eyes widened in shock as she accidentally stumbled into this changing room with a topless stranger. They were so close that the girl could reach out and touch Mandy if she wanted to. She looked Mandy in the eyes before looking downwards. Her gaze paused on Mandy's exposed tits, moved down to examine the rest of her body, then came back up to her chest. It all happened so quickly, but Mandy savored every moment of it.

Mandy's mind flooded with all of the possibilities, wondering what this stranger's mouth would feel like wrapped around her nipple. She imagined pinning this dark haired woman to the wall and kissing her deeply and passionately. She imagined leaving the door wide open letting the entire world see what might come next.

"Oh my god, fuck, sorry!" The girl seemed panicked and unsure what to do. She was clearly more embarrassed by the whole situation than Mandy was. After another quick glance at Mandy's topless body, the door was closed and she was gone.

Mandy had been in that dressing room for almost fifteen minutes, standing impatiently in nothing but those denim shorts. She had left the door unlocked, but she was starting to think that no one would come. She had hesitated and nearly chickened out. However, she was far from her friends and family or anyone else that might recognize her, and this seemed like a golden opportunity to take full advantage of that. It came as a genuine surprise and shock when the door had finally opened.

Desperate for more, she recreated the same scenario in another clothing store, this time stripping down to her white lace panties.

Almost ten minutes passed and Mandy listened for every passing footstep. Her breathing stopped when she heard steps approaching and stopping outside of the thin wooden door. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, pretending to reach for an article of clothing on a hook. Her stance was intentional, giving a full view to anyone who might happen to look inside.

A light knock startled her.

Fuck

, she thought.

A second heavier knock immediately followed.

Damnit

.

"Yeah?" she asked, trying to hide the mixture of disappointment and anger in her voice. She immediately regretted saying anything. In the moment, she feared that her game would be too obvious if she ignored the knocking. In retrospect, she wished that she had done it anyway.

"Oh sorry" she heard a muffled female voice say through the door. "Thought it was empty." The footsteps moved down the hall and Mandy heard another changing room door close next to hers.

Frustrated, she changed back into her clothes and left the mall with a couple of new tops and a new thong.

Alone in her mom's car, Mandy drove around town. She still had not gotten everything she came for, and she refused to start the long drive home just yet.

She replayed the events from the mall in her mind as she visited other stores--the thrill of waiting to be discovered, the intoxicating rush of being seen, and the frustration of her scenario being so reliant on chance.

I wish that door wasn't such an obstacle and there was an easier way...

The solution was so obvious that she felt a little embarrassed by how long it took her to think of it. Several minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot of a small plaza that contained several smaller stores. At the very end of the building was a large red sign marked

Twice Removed: Used & Vintage Apparel

.

Reaching under her shirt, Mandy unclasped her bra. Awkwardly, she pulled her arms free from each strap and pulled it out from under her top. Her large breasts pushed against her thin t-shirt, swaying conspicuously as she tossed the bra into the passenger seat. Her nipples protruded ever so subtly against the material. It would be immediately obvious to anyone that she was braless.

She then reached under her skirt and slipped off her white panties, again tossing them onto the adjacent seat. Just stepping out of the car felt like an act of bravery, bolstered by adrenaline.

Twice Removed was considered a hidden gem among college and university students. Mandy had shopped there several times before and had bought one of her favorite pairs of jeans there. The store was small and densely packed with so many racks of clothing that it was difficult for two people to pass without brushing against each other. Each rack was haphazardly filled with a variety of clothing items, loosely categorized by size and style, but with no signs to help guide customers. The chaos was almost part of the allure, and what began as disorganization slowly became the store's gimmick over years.

Two people roamed the store, one man and one woman. The woman looked like she was Mandy's age and the man looked five-to-ten years older. Sitting behind the counter was another young woman reading a book. She looked mostly uninterested in the customers and barely gave Mandy as much as a glance when the bell on the door rung as she stepped inside.

Nobody seemed to give her much notice until the man spotted her large breasts pressing again her top, trying to escape. He did a double take and gave a polite smile as she passed.

Equally importantly, at least for Mandy, was the changing area. Much like the store itself, the changing rooms in Twice Removed were bare-boned. Tucked away in the far corner were two small changing stalls with tall red curtains hanging from an aluminum rod above. While they were mostly obscured, they did open directly in front of several more racks of clothing.

So many more options than those doors at the mall

, she thought excitedly.

It was the sort of poorly designed layout with lax privacy that could never work in a larger store or at the mall. However, this little vintage shop was small enough to get away with it and save on renovation costs.

She had a plan in mind and quickly browsed the racks of clothing. She did not need anything in particular, but grabbed some skirts and a variety of tops. With a large collection of items in her arms, she hurried to the nearest changing room.

On her way she noticed the female customer leaving the store, leaving just the single male customer browsing the nearby aisles.

Her head was abuzz as she closed the curtain most of the way, leaving a small gap of almost two inches at the end. She wanted desperately to slide the curtain open just a little more, but feared it would undermine her entire plan.