It all started out like any other day, or, at least, any other day for Madison, as she slowly made her way to class. It was eleven days after her punishment. Not much had changed. She continued to wear her prescribed outfits, and delighted in the slightly warmer weather March was bringing. On this Tuesday, she dressed in a slightly too short pink skirt and a tiny crop top, no panties of course.
Madison was starting to get used to the looks. There were "I want to fuck your brains out" looks that she got mostly from men. There were the "I hate your guts" looks and the "why do you have to ALWAYS dress like such a whore" looks that she almost exclusively got from women. Those were the main ones, but there were other ones too, the "why would you wear that?" looks, and the "I wonder if she likes being stared at" looks, and her personal favorite, the one she sometimes got when she was sitting down, the "whoa, you're not wearing panties!" Looks.
So, it wasn't all that strange at first when she got an "I hate you" glare as she walked across campus to class, followed by a "mmmmm, there's that slut that's always half dressed" look, followed by a "what a stupid whore" look and an unusually long "OMG when are you just going to be normal, Madison!" glare as she walked down the hall on her way to the classroom
But then she started to notice something. This morning was different. Yes, different. People stared, sure, but the stares were, well - different. A group of three girls all stared at her, their conversation ceasing while she walked by. Their heads, as if on a swivel, turned around to look at her backside as she walked past, their conversations coming to a standstill or, if they continued, went on only in hushed tones.
"Hey Madison!" A guy smiled wide as she walked by. "Umm, hi," she said with a meek smile. What was going on? She really started to wonder. Wherever she walked, conversations were held in whispers. Everyone stared, all at once, as if she were an exotic animal in captivity at the zoo. She started to look around, nervously, wondering what was going on.
And when the people weren't staring? They were buried in their phones, eyes wide, in disbelief, or whispering quietly to themselves, stealing glances at her when they thought she was not looking. A couple of the guys giggled. It was like she was on display at a butcher shop or something.
"Alyssa," she thought. "Alyssa could tell me." Madison looked around but Alyssa was nowhere to be seen. "Of all days - why would she skip class today!" Madison lamented.
Her heart pounded. Something wasn't right, and she knew it, she just couldn't tell what it was. Madison swallowed her saliva. She started to listen, hearing some of the whispers. "There she is!" She heard. "OMG, why even show up!" Madison looked around the room. It was Kim's class, but she had not yet arrived, although she still had a couple minutes.
Suddenly, the loud-mouthed foreign girl in the back spoke up. "Hey, Madison, check your insta!"
Madison slowly pulled her phone out. The conversations around the room died out slowly, being reduced to whispers, and it seemed like the whole class was comprised of people holding their breath, waiting for something. Madison scanned the room again as she brought her phone to breast height. She swiped up, her phone recognized her face, and she pushed the icon for the app she had been pointed to.
"Ummm, what the hell?" Madison said, shaking her head in disgust. "I can't - it won't let me in!" She heard a couple snickers, but mostly everyone held their breath. It was like they were waiting to see if a buzzer beater shot was going to go through the hoop or bounce off into oblivion.
Suddenly the foreign girl was behind her. "No, she can't get in!" She announced to the class.
"Says my password is wrong?!" Madison replied.
Madison looked around the room, confused. She stood there in her little half shirt, not understanding why she couldn't get in. Then someone handed her a phone.
Madison gasped. It was a picture of her! Mostly nude. All over Instagram. And there, along with the picture, was a link. And it was not just any link - it was a link to the website where her most humiliating, objectifying video vault was held. Her entire Webslut Madison collection.
"No! No no no no! Fuck!" She cried out. Her heart leapt into her throat. She could not believe this had happened! How had this happened!? She couldn't believe it, all her videos would be tied specifically to her! To her personal Instagram! Where anyone who followed her could see!
"Oh, fuck - - fuck!" She called out. Several of her more knowledgeable classmates snickered, already having seen her video and photos for most of the morning.
The next several moments were a blur. She looked around in a daze. Suddenly a hand was on her body, from behind, touching her side, reaching up, up...
"Hey, Webslut Madison," said a voice. Before she could turn around, someone was feeling her tits.
"Guys, I'm not -" she began, but she didn't really know what was going on. She didn't really react to the guy squeezing her tits at first. "I - why can't I get in, fuck! I have to see what - what the fuck else is on there!" She looked around. "Seriously, how fucked am I?"
"Gang fucked," one guy said with a laugh. Her face turned bright red as she realized her classmates had watched her throw herself at several guys she just met.
"Your life is ruined, Madison," a girl said in a voice that made it impossible to distinguish whether she felt sorry for Madison or whether she delighted in her predicament.
"She asked for it, though," a guy said rather quietly. By now even the students who were not previously aware had their phones out and were putting it all together. At the same time, three guys converged on her mostly-exposed body.
"Just take it off, Madison."
"Yeah, SLUT. Where's it written today? I want to see. Make sure you follow the rules!"
"Fuck! You guys, please, I -" She stammered. She was trembling. Fuck, she thought, she knew it was going to happen eventually, but like this?!
Someone was grabbing her shirt. "Don't worry, she fucking wants it," one of them said. She grabbed her shirt, raising her arms up, bending with the motion of the pull of the shirt, to her right. Another grabbed her skirt and lifted. Suddenly there was a gasp.
"Fuck!" She called out. Her skirt was pulled up - whether by accident or on purpose she wasn't really sure. The top was a couple inches below her crop top hem, and the bottom was barely covering her navel. Her shaven pussy was on full display, her plugged ass visible to anyone behind her. And above her pussy, as she had been instructed to always do, was the tell-all word, in black letters, now visible to all: "slut."
The room fell silent for a split second, then there was a roar. There were gasps, there were cheers. There were people suggesting that Madison be left alone and allowed to mind her business. There were people saying "Oh my God!" and countless variations of that.
And just when Madison stood up to adjust her skirt, the professor walked into the room.
"Class, let's settle down," she said without anything more than a glance at Madison. "I know Madison decided to come out as a Webslut this morning, but we have class to focus on. Madison, please cover up, that's what the internet is for. Oh, right, you already know that."
Madison had never been more humiliated in her life. Shaking, she just stood there before picking up her bag and walking to the front of the room. Kim, the professor, stopped talking, her mouth open in disbelief at what happened next.
"So, yeah. I'm a slut. I admit it. See?" She lifted her skirt again in case anyone didn't get a good look the first time. Something snapped inside of Madison as she lifted her skirt and displayed her pussy to the entire class. A tear started to stream down her face, but her pussy was soaking wet. She was lost in her own thoughts, barely recognizing that her classmates were staring at her or that her professor was speaking again.
"It's over, slut," she thought to herself. "Your life's over. You're exposed. You wanted it and now it happened and this is what it feels like. Do it, slut. Make it worse. Make it so nobody ever forgets - so anytime they think of you, this is all they think about." Her pussy was soaked. She trembled, she craved this.
"Madison, show and tell is over," the professor said. But Madison didn't exactly hear.
"Show them everything," said a voice in her head. "The cat is out of the bag. They know all about you. Now finish the job." Madison let her skirt fall back into place. She quickly grabbed her shirt and bra by the bottom with two hands and pulled up, giving the class a full view of her breasts. Tears began to fall and she sniffled and stammered "I - I gotta go," before grabbing her bag and walking out the door.
"Let's move on. You can all stare at her tits later if you like. She's all over the internet, as I'm sure you know," the professor said. The class laughed in unison. Madison stole a glance back into the classroom, in disbelief that her professor - who just days ago was trying to save her from self-destruction - would now attempt to further her humiliation.
"Yeah, settle down," one of the guys said. "You can grope her outside of class."
"You know she's begging for it."
