When the box arrived on Niemira’s doorstep, it was addressed to “Sherbet Giggles”.
She stared at it for a moment, and then quickly picked it up and took it to her bedroom before her parents could see. She didn’t know what was inside, but she associated Candy Girls with embarrassment now, and she thought she should keep this to herself.
It was only when she got to her bedroom that she realised the implication of the box. Yes, it must be the prize she had won—an “authentic Candy Girls T-shirt”—but it had come to her house. Candy Girls knew where she lived.
But of course it did. She had told them. She had given them her address so they could deliver her prizes.
Nervously, she opened the box. Sure enough, there were T-shirts inside—not one, but three. She lifted each out and looked at it in turn.
The first was black, with the words “RAPE ME” printed across it in large white letters.
The second was soft pink, with a picture of her avatar, Sherbet Giggles on it. Sherbet was nude, dressed in her dog collar, leash, and nipple clamps. Niemira blushed at how clearly Sherbet looked like her—the same face, the same breast size, the same hairstyle. Below Sherbet, it said “CANDY GIRL”.
The third shirt was white, and had nothing on it but a photo, centred on the breast area. It was a photo of Niemira’s spread, naked pussy—the one she had taken in history class.
She blushed, and shuddered, and pushed the disgusting shirts back into the box.
There was something else in the box, though—a six-pack of bottles. The bottles were baby bottles, plastic with rubber nipples, and each was filled with a white fluid.
Niemira knew what this was. It was nutrient juice! It was what Sherbet Giggles drank to increase her points multiplier in Candy Girls.
Curious, she fished one of the bottles out of the box and raised it to her mouth. She blushed a little at the need to suck on the rubber nipple like a baby, but she was immediately rewarded by a spurt of the white fluid over her tongue.
It was strange—a little like milk, but saltier. She sucked a little more, then took her mouth off the bottle and stuck out her tongue like Sherbet Giggles did, to show the white liquid in her mouth.
She blushed a little with pride as she did this. Sherbet Giggles never wanted to drink her nutrient juice. Niemira always had to slap the little bitch. But Niemira was drinking her nutrient juice without even being forced to. She was a good girl.
She shuddered, with sudden realisation of what she had just thought. Why was she so pleased with being a good girl? What was in this nutrient juice, anyway? She had no idea, but she was just sucking on it, like…
Like a good girl.
She sucked a little more. Without even realising it, one hand dipped beneath her skirt, to her panty-less pussy, and began to masturbate.
And as it always did when she got horny, Niemira’s mind turned to Candy Girls.
Forgetting the box, she sat down on her bed, still masturbating with one hand, and with the other she began to play Candy Girls on her phone. She only stopped rubbing her pussy to pick up the nutrient juice and suck another mouthful from the nipple.
As always, her session started by slapping Sherbet Giggles in the face, tits and cunt until Sir’s Approval Rating reached maximum. She fed Sherbet some nutrient juice—noting again how repulsed Sherbet appeared to be by the drink—and then started the process of matching candy.
Each time the screen filled and the game ended, a video of Niemira appeared—bouncing her tits, fingering her pussy, telling the viewer it was okay to rape her. Videos that Niemira had willingly filmed and sent to the anonymous developers of the game. And each one had a message for Niemira superimposed over it.
Niemira read each message out loud, automatically, hearing her own voice saying it as she masturbated.
“Brainless cunt,” she whispered. “Ridiculous fuckdoll. Slutty bitch. I deserved to be slapped.”
And then the moment she had been waiting for arrived. She reached Level 6.
“GOOD GIRL,” said a deep male voice in Niemira’s earphones, and just like that, Niemira orgasmed.
“You are now level 6!” continued the game. “Sherbet Giggles needs to get out and socialise! Pick the visitor that Sherbet Giggles deserves!”
The screen showed Sherbet—nude but for her leash and nipple clamps, and visibly blushing—in a bedroom that looked very much like Niemira’s. There were three visitors queued outside her door.
One was a good-looking boy with a bunch of flowers. One was a man in a black ski mask, who looked like a rapist. And the third was a group of teenagers who looked cruel, as if they would make fun of Sherbet Giggles.
“Sluts should be humiliated,” said Niemira to herself, not realising that she was talking. “Sluts deserve shame.”
She selected the group of cruel teenagers, and watched as they pushed open the door to Sherbet’s room. Finding her nude and leashed, they immediately burst out in mocking laughter, and took photos of her. Sherbet’s blush deepened, and she started to cry.
Niemira looked at it in satisfaction. This was exactly what Sherbet deserved for being such a slut, and getting Niemira into all this trouble. She noted with pleasure that Sherbet’s humiliation was raising Sir’s Approval Rating.
And then the words appeared that always thrilled Niemira, even knowing what she now knew about the app: “BONUS ROUND APPROACHES!”
“Win real prizes on the Wheel of Candy!’ said the game. “To play the bonus round, upload a video of you nude, outdoors, in daylight, masturbating using every pair of panties you own, and then mailing the soiled panties to Candy Girls at your own cost! Every girl who plays earns an exciting new way to control Candy Girls—and lucky winners get valuable bonus prizes!”
Niemira shivered. In the past the game had just wanted a photo of her tits or her pussy, or a short video. This was more significant. And she would be giving away all her panties!
But she couldn’t wear panties anymore, could she? She was beginning to understand that the game’s hypnotic compulsion was permanent, and that panties were simply not a part of her life anymore.
And she was curious about the new way of controlling the game. And the prizes.
She had to think about how to do it. Outside, in daylight, was tricky. She couldn’t use her own backyard—her parents were home, and would be able to see her out of any window.
She thought about a park, but the local parks were open, with little concealment.
In the end she settled on a nature reserve some distance from her house. It was a large area of forest, criss-crossed with hiking trails. The trails themselves were barely used, and Niemira thought if she went off them into the forest, she could find an area where no one would see her.
She gathered up all her panties—she had a lot of them!—and stuffed them into a backpack. She took a couple of bottles of nutrient juice too, pausing to take another sip from one, and wrapped them in the embarrassing T-shirts to stop condensation dripping into her backpack. Then she set out for the nature reserve by bus.
It felt so slutty to be sitting on public transport, planning to do what she was going to do when she got off. She felt as if everyone on the bus must know she was going to go strip naked and masturbate in the forest. The embarrassment made her pussy wet, and that just made her even more embarrassed. She wished she could masturbate, but she wasn’t that much of a slut. She wished she could play Candy Girls, but she couldn’t until she completed the bonus round requirements.
She got off at the nature reserve. The hiking trail which wound through the tall trees of the forest was almost completely empty. With no sign of any other living soul as she walked along it, she gave in to temptation, reached under her skirt, and started to rub her pussy as she walked. She was surprised and shocked at how incredibly wet she was.
On an impulse, she brought her fingers to her mouth, dripping with fuckhoney, and licked them. It tasted good, and despite the blush that her slutty behaviour brought to her cheeks, she repeated the action, licking another load of slut juice off her fingers. It reminded her of licking the chair clean of her pussy juices on the very first day she had played Candy Girls.
She reached into her pack and brought out a bottle of nutrient juice, and began to suck at the rubber nipple of the bottle even as she continued to masturbate with her free hand.
When she had gone far enough along the path—an arbitrary distance, but far enough that she could no longer hear the noises of the main road—she picked an area where she felt unlikely to get lost, and wandered off the trail. She weaved between trees, climbing over logs, until she was mostly out of sight of the path. She didn’t want to go further, for fear that she wouldn’t find her way back. A person looking in just the right direction would still be able to see her—but what were the chances of that?
Crouching behind a log, she began to undress. Her dress came over her head in one easy motion. She was wearing neither bra nor panties, and the outdoor air brought goosebumps to her nude skin. She kicked off her shoes and socks, and knelt completely nude on the dirt of the forest floor.
Part of her couldn’t believe she was being so whorish. She was completely naked in a public place. But part of her was thrilled by it. It was naughty, and illicit… and sexy. Besides, she was so wet, she wanted to play with her pussy. She needed it.
She found a comfortable place to sit with her legs spread, her dress spread under her ass as a cushion. She set up her phone between her legs, angled to capture the entirety of her naked form from her cunt up to her face, and set it to record. Then she opened her bag and began to pull out her panties.
Each pair of panties was used to rub her cunt, from her clitoris down to her fuckhole. She would wipe it slowly up and down her gash, enjoying the feel of the material—the smoothness of satin soft against her skin; the rough rasp of lace over her clitoris; the textured feeling of cotton. She would tease herself with each one until the fabric was wet, and then push them up inside her fuckhole to properly soak them, flicking her clitoris three times while each was within her. Then she would pull them out and put them into the plastic bag she had brought for this purpose.
After the first couple, the feeling of a single pair of panties inside her pussy wasn’t enough, and she would leave each pair within her as she started on the next one, stuffing four, five, six, or even seven pairs of underwear into her cunt at once, before pulling them all out together.
She orgasmed before she was halfway through, and in a moment of clarity she realised that her cunt juices had been soaking into her dress through her slutty performance. She was going to have to go home in a dress soaked in her own slut nectar. But then she started masturbating with the next pair of panties, and she didn’t care anymore.
At some point she closed her eyes, tuning out the world, just enjoying the slutty masturbation. She didn’t open them again until she heard the laughter.
Laughter. Cruel, mocking laughter. And very close.
Her eyes shot open. Her hand froze between her legs, and her knees instinctively came together to hide her pussy.
There were three teenagers standing directly in front of her. Worse, they were three teenagers she knew. They were from her school.
In front was Callista, rich and popular, the Queen Bee of her grade. Behind her was Joshua—handsome and fit, but undeniably a bully and a dickhead. And the third was Caity—one of Niemira’s friends, and the girl who had introduced her to Candy Girls in the first place.
They were staring at her as she sat there nude and masturbating, and they were sniggering.
“Wow, Niemira,” said Callista. “Are you this much of a slut-pig all the time?”
Niemira made an incoherent sound. She was mortified. She wanted to die. She jumped to her feet, and ran, looking for a place to hide.
“I thought you wanted us to see!” called out Joshua as she ran away. “Nice tits, Niemira!”
Their laughter followed her as she scuttled away, but mercifully, they let her go. She found a large tree with a hollowed-out base nearby, and she cringed in its shadow, hoping that they’d go away, her eyes filled with tears of humiliation.
She couldn’t believe people she knew had seen her masturbating. She would never live it down. They would know she was a slut forever.
And more than anything, she wanted to touch her pussy. She knew if she just flicked her clitoris, right now, she could cum. And that fact made her hate herself even more.
The teenagers did not leave, though. They remained in the spot where Niemira had been playing with her pussy.
“God, look at the puddle on her dress,” she heard Callista say. “What a fucking whore.”
“You should have taken a photo, Josh,” said Caity. “Sluts should be humiliated. Sluts deserve shame.”
Niemira shuddered. She knew where Caity was getting those words—from Candy Girls. She could hear them in her own mind even now, and knew that Caity was right. She was a slut. She did deserve to be humiliated.
“Hey Niemira,” yelled Josh, to the general area. “Come back and show us your fuckhole some more.”
“I’m going to tell everyone that you were fingering your twat in the woods like some kind of animal,” called out Callista. “Unless you come back and let Josh take photos.”
Niemira stayed where she was. She knew Callista wouldn’t honour that bargain. Callista was the kind of girl for whom cruelty came naturally and unavoidably.
But the idea of posing in front of Josh, of deliberately letting him take photos of her naked pussy, was too much. She couldn’t help herself. She spread her pussy with her hand, and ran a single finger over her clitoris, and just like that, she orgasmed. She had to press her hand into her mouth to keep silent as she bucked and twitched with people only a few dozen metres away.
She cried with shame at her own sluttiness, but she did that quietly, too.
It didn’t take long for her three tormentors to grow bored.
“Come on, let’s finish the hike,” said Callista.
“We should take her dress,” said Caity.
“Gross, it’s covered in slut mess,” said Callista. “I’m not touching it.”
“It’s okay, I will,” said Caity.
And Niemira had a sudden intuition in her head. Somehow she knew—knew—that when Caity was alone, she would lift the patch that Niemira had soaked with her cunt juices to her mouth, and lick at it, while masturbating.
How did Niemira know that? Was that something that she would do in the same circumstances? Would she do it in the future, if she kept playing Candy Girls?
She thought she would.
She waited for the voices to move away, up the hiking trail, and then waited another ten minutes before returning to where she had been masturbating. Her backpack was still there, along with the bag of panties. Her phone was still propped up, and recording—its position had concealed it from view. But her dress was gone.
She moaned with horror, but she had a task to finish. She sat back down—this time directly on the dirt, with sticks and twigs poking into her buttocks, and finished masturbating with the last few pairs of panties. She didn’t cum again, and she finished the exercise flushed, still horny, and wet-cunted.
Later, she would pack the panties into the box that her shirts had come in, and send it back to the return-address on the label. But for now, she opened Candy Girls, and uploaded the video of her humiliation.
“GOOD GIRL” said the app, and Niemira almost orgasmed again from hearing it. Then: “Watch the Candy Girls video, then enter your reward code. 75% chance of success, 25% chance of forfeit.”
She put on her headphones, and settled in, still nude, to watch the hypnotic video. The staticky fuzz started to play, and she felt her mind go pleasantly blank.
When she was aware again, the shadows had changed. It was later in the day. She must have been there for nearly an hour—and, yes, she had been masturbating the whole time. There was no sign that anyone further had seen her—but how would she know? People might have been photographing her for the entire period.
But she had her prize word in her brain. She typed it into Candy Girls—“cum-toilet”.
She had been hoping for a prize, but instead the other sound played—the one that filled her with horror and regret. It was a sad trombone, and the game said “FORFEIT! YOU WERE UNLUCKY!”
On the screen, Sherbet Giggles was unwrapping a package. She took out a shirt from inside it, held it up to the camera, and then proudly put it on, covering her nipple-clamped tits. The front of the shirt showed a cartoon image of Niemira herself, nude, her legs spread, her tits big and slutty, masturbating. It had words on it—“NIEMIRA IS A WHORE”.
“GOOD SLUTS WEAR CANDY GIRLS CLOTHES!” said the game voice. “As a result of your forfeit, you will now be required to prioritise official Candy Girls merchandise in your wardrobe!”
Niemira thought about the three slutty shirts that were even now stuffed into her backpack, and mewled in horror.
But she would need to wear them anyway, wouldn’t she? She had no other clothes. She couldn’t wear panties, and Caity had stolen her dress.
She pulled them out of her bag and looked at them. The first said “RAPE ME”. The second was effectively a nude cartoon picture of her in a collar, leash and nipple clamps. And the third was a photo of her own cunt.
None of them came down much further than the bottom of her cunt. They were shirts, not dresses. She tried wrapping one around her waist as a makeshift skirt, but they weren’t quite big enough.
She would have to catch a bus home like this. She judged that as her best chance of getting home safely. She couldn’t ring anyone and ask for a lift—she would have to explain what had happened. And she didn’t dare take a taxi—there wasn’t a taxi driver alive that she trusted to take a nude girl home from a nature reserve without taking advantage of her. A bus at least was public—vastly more humiliating, yes, but safer.
Given the circumstances, she was going to have to wear the third shirt, with the picture of her cunt. On another day, she could pass the “RAPE ME” shirt off as a tribute to the band Nirvana, perhaps—but not when it was the only thing she was wearing. And the picture of her wearing nipple clamps and a collar would only give people ideas.
She pulled the embarrassing shirt on. It was tight over her tits, and her nipples poked against the fabric visibly. The bottom kept wanting to ride up to her waist, forcing her to keep tugging it down to cover her pussy and ass as best as possible.
The long walk back to the road felt so wrong. Her mind kept telling her that she wasn’t dressed, and that she needed to put some clothes on. The feeling of the wind on her pussy felt slutty and unnatural.
When she got to the road, she took a seat at the bus stop, and draped the shirt with the picture of Sherbet Giggles over her lap for extra coverage. But when the bus finally arrived, she had to stand, blushing even deeper now.
The man driving the bus took a long look at her as she got on. He stared pointedly at her tits—and the photograph displayed across them—and then looked downward, at her groin. Niemira squirmed, paid her fare, and got on the bus.
It was full. Every seat had someone sitting in it. They all stared at her. They stared at the photo of her cunt. They stared at her nipples poking against the tight fabric.
She tried to turn around and get off again, but the bus had already started moving. She had to reach up and grab a handrail—and when she did, the shirt pulled up.
Her cunt was exposed. Her ass was exposed. To maybe thirty people, complete strangers, on a bus. And they could all see she was wet. They could all see the sticky ropes of fuckhoney connecting her cunt lips.
Some stared. Some turned away in disgust. Niemira wanted to lower her hands to cover her pussy, but the motion of the vehicle meant she had to keep her hands raised, holding onto the straps hanging from the overhead rails.
It was on that long voyage home, as Niemira let the strangers stare at her slutty, exposed pussy, that she came to an important realisation.
She was a slut.
This simply didn’t happen to nice girls. They didn’t end up half-naked on a bus with strangers staring at their fuckhole. It was only happening to Niemira, because of the choices Niemira had made and the things she had done.
She was a slut. She wasn’t a nice girl. She was a slut.
Sluts deserved to be ashamed. She deserved this.
She made eye-contact with a 30-something man at the back of the bus. He had his phone out. He was taking a photograph of her.
Unable to process the humiliation for one moment longer, Niemira closed her eyes, and dreamed of playing Candy Girls.