Kathy shivered as she walked along the street, completely naked in the afternoon sun.
This didn't feel real. It felt like a nightmare. Three days ago she had been a normal, self-respecting woman. Now she was completely nude in public, on her way to buy snacks for a man who had raped her. There was wet cum on her face and breasts, and cum slowly running down her thighs from her recently-violated pussy. She had been fucked by somebody - she didn't even know who - while she had been practically unconscious, lost in a hypnotic, addictive trance that was slowly transforming her into a helpless sex-doll.
She heard a car approaching from behind her. She froze. Her hands had already been desperately (and unsuccessfully) trying to cover her tits and pussy. Now she didn't know what to do. The car could see her nude ass. Should she expose her breasts in order to cover it? Turn around to face the car, so that she could keep covering her breasts and pussy? Then they would see the cum on her face - and, maybe worse, she would see the face of the driver, and see how they reacted to her whorish state.
She did nothing. The car roared past her on the road - with nothing more than a jeering toot of the horn to acknowledge that the driver had, indeed, seen her shame. Kathy flushed red - and, with no other options, she kept walking to the shop.
She could have fled. Or begged for help. But Mitch had told her to buy snacks, naked, with cum on her face. Men knew best. She wanted to obey. If Mitch wanted her to do this, it must be the best thing for her to do. Part of her mind disagreed with that idea, but she found it increasingly hard to form thoughts that expressed those disagreements coherently.
What she wanted to do was vanish into the spiral. Inside the spiral, she didn't have to think. But she didn't have her phone with her. All she had was the money that Mitch had thrust into her hand. When you're naked, you don't have pockets. It was sitting on the lounge floor, at home, with Mitch. Mitch had said he would let her explore the spiral, if she was a good girl and brought the snacks.
The other thing she wanted to do was masturbate. Her cunt was traitorously wet, for no reason that she could discern. But it was humiliating enough to be naked - how much worse would it be to rub her pussy as well?
The local store was a small corner outlet, with a modest range of essential groceries. A young man was behind the only register when she went in, and she immediately felt his eyes upon her naked body. To her relief, he said nothing, only stared. There was no one else in the store.
She went from aisle to aisle, collecting potato chips, nuts, candies, and two six-packs of beer.
She passed the condoms, and thought about buying some. An anonymous man had cum in her pussy today, and so had Mitch. He would probably use her again. She could get pregnant.
But then she thought about taking the condoms to the register, while completely naked and covered in cum, and thought about what that might be *inviting* - and the embarrassment was just too much. She left the condoms on the shelf.
She blushed as she took her purchases to the register. The man at the register stared at her naked tits as he rang up her purchases. Kathy felt her pussy grow wetter and wetter.
She remembered what Mitch had told her to do at the shop. "Do I look pretty?" she asked, in a small voice.
"Sorry?" asked the cashier, apparently not hearing her - or just too distracted by her boobs.
"Do I look pretty?" she asked again. She honestly didn't know what he'd say. Of course she didn't look pretty - she looked like a whore, with cum on her face. But she looked pretty with cum on her face - that was true as well.
He laughed, and said, "You look like a sex-toy. But I assume that was how you wanted to look."
She felt like she might cry - but she instinctively accepted the truth of what he had said. Men knew best. She *did* look like a sex-toy. And she *had* wanted to look like that. She didn't remember why, but she knew it was true.
"Thank you," she said.
The groceries filled two heavy plastic bags - one six-pack of beer weight down each bag - and she put her money on the counter in order to take the bags. With one in each hand, she was no longer able to cover her tits or her pussy even as modestly as she had before.
The cashier took the money, and made change. The remainder came to two notes and a small handful of coins. Kathy tried awkwardly to pick it up while holding the bags, and initially couldn't work out how to manage it.
"Here, let me help," said the cashier, grinning. He walked out from behind the register with a handful of black devices - small bulldog clips, for holding bundles of notes together. He took one of the notes - and used a clip to pin it to Kathy's left nipple. Kathy squealed in pain - but she couldn't defend her tits without dropping the groceries, nor did she really try. After all, men knew best.
She squealed again when he clipped the second note to her other nipple. Both notes were now hanging from her tits, like strange pasties.
"What about the coins?" Kathy asked. She had intended to tell him to just put the coins in one of the bags - but before she could continue, the cashier smiled - and kissed her on the lips.
Kathy made a noise - and kissed him back. Men knew best. And, in any case, it felt good. Her pussy throbbed with appreciation.
And then she felt the cashier's hand on her pussy. Not just on it - he was spreading her pussy lips, and pushing something inside. The coins! He was pushing the coins up her cunt! And then a moment later, he was pulling her pussy lips back together, and - ouch! OUCH!
She pulled away from him, squealing. He had used the last of his bulldog clips to clamp her pussy lips together - effectively turning her cunt into a coin purse, now securely closed.
The cashier laughed, and said, "Thank you for your business. Have a nice day, now."
Kathy breathed deeply. She knew that any normal woman would drop the groceries, and rip the painful clamps off her tits and pussy.