Since she had reached Level 6 of Candy Girls, Niemira was playing it more than ever.
She didn’t want to play it as much anymore. But now she had to play it. Because two new bars had appeared at the top of the Candy Girls screen.
The first said “Strip Forfeit”, and every time it filled up, Niemira felt compelled to go to her wardrobe, find the least-slutty piece of clothing she owned, and cut it up with scissors. The ripped remains went in the bin. If she ignored the game entirely, she thought the bar would fill about once a day, although she wasn’t ignoring it, so she couldn’t be sure. Playing the game decreased the speed at which the bar filled. She was playing for about four hours every day, and the bar filled near evening of every second day.
She couldn’t buy new clothes—she had tried, and found herself unable to take clothes to a cashier or leave the store with them—so eventually this bar was going to leave her without any modest clothes at all.
The second bar said “Good Girl Reward”, and every time it filled up she received a notification that she had won a new piece of Candy Girls slutwear. These came in small parcels, delivered via courier, every day or couple of days. And in accordance with her most recent hypnotic forfeit, Niemira prioritised wearing these over her other clothes.
Some of the first items she had won were a replacement school uniform. She had shivered when she realised the game knew where she went to school, and what its uniform was. The new skirt was just a little shorter than the school’s regulation length—but still long enough for her to mostly get away with going without panties. The new shirt was a little tighter, a little more transparent, and emphasised her tits a little more. The overall effect looked surprisingly like an official uniform—yet made her seem subtly a little sluttier than the other girls.
She had also won a pair of high heeled shoes that were replacing her regular footwear on most days, a T-shirt that said “GIRLS ARE FOR RAPING”, and a black velvet wristlet with the words “CUM SLUT” picked out on it in delicate silver letters. She was wearing this every day—she had to—but was mostly able to hide it from close scrutiny by keeping her hands together, her right hand covering the bracelet on her left wrist.
She was avoiding her collection of embarrassing shirts by wearing her school uniform as often as possible. “Slutty schoolgirl” got her plenty of stares when she was out and about, but it was better than the alternatives. But her hypnosis wasn’t letting her off too easily. If she left a piece of clothing unworn for too long, she began feeling a need to wear it, and so yesterday she had walked around the block in her “GIRLS ARE FOR RAPING” shirt, and the day before she had gone to the mall wearing the shirt that had a picture of her cunt on it. (This was when she had discovered she couldn’t purchase new clothes.)
She was becoming used to only seeing three expressions on people’s faces when they looked at her: lust, disgust, or mockery. This was her new normal.
She avoided her family entirely, either staying locked in her room, out at school, or out of the house.
The first shipment of clothes had also contained another prize—a sleek purple vibrator, made of smooth plastic, with a couple of shiny metal bands set into its length. “A new way of controlling Candy Girls!” its box had read, and Niemira remembered that the game had indeed promised her such a thing.
She had blushed to see it, but hadn’t been able to help her curiosity. She had to try it. She had taken it to her bedroom, charged it from a USB port, taken a deep drink of her thick white Candy Girls nutrient juice, and then slipped it into her already wet pussy.
It had felt amazing. The vibrator hummed in her cunt, and it had a flanged attachment that pressed against her clitoris at the same time. To make things even better, she discovered to her delight that while she was fucking herself with it, her score multiplier in Candy Girls began to rise, and at the same time her “Good Girl Reward” bar was filling more quickly.
But when she lost her first game, and the screen overflowed with candy, she got a nasty surprise.
Words flashed up on the screen: “Should I cover my tits?”
And at the same time, the vibrator delivered a sharp electric shock into her pussy and clitoris.
Niemira screamed in shock.
Before she could react, more words appeared: “Do I deserve clothes?”
And it shocked her again.
And then, finally, it read: “Boys should see my tits.”
And instead of shocking her, it gave her a deep, reassuring buzz.
Niemira pulled the wicked device out of her frantically, tears welling in her eyes. She threw it across the bed and looked at it as thought it was a snake. Her cunt was still twitching from the painful shock.
After a while, she couldn’t help herself, and resumed playing Candy Girls.
But this time when she lost a game, she only got the normal failure message—a picture of her nude, and the words “I’M A DUMB CUNT”—but at the same time, her Strip Forfeit bar filled all the way to full.
“What? Why?” asked Niemira, knowing the game wouldn’t reply—and already suspecting the answer. Numbly, she got up, went to the cupboard, and found a black hoodie she had bought only months ago. She got her scissors, and cut it into strips.
She went to play another round, to see if the same thing would happen—but she knew it would. She knew. There was no point in pretending. The game had levelled up, and she had to keep up.
Reluctantly, she took the vibrator, and slid it back into her pussy. And sure enough, when she lost her next game, she had a similar experience.
“Can I think for myself?” SHOCK.
“Do my opinions matter?” SHOCK.
“I need boys to make my decisions for me.” Buzzzzzz.
Niemira stared at the screen, weeping, doubled over from the pain in her cunt. “My opinions don’t matter,” she heard herself say. And she started another round.
At school they called her “the Cuntstuffer”. Callista and Joshua may not have managed to get a photo of her masturbating in the woods, but they were not shy in telling the other students what they had seen. It became common knowledge that Niemira masturbated in public by shoving her underwear up her twat.
It became common knowledge, too, that Niemira didn’t wear underwear at school, because Callista’s story prompted the crueller kids—and hornier boys—to make a game of flipping up Niemira’s skirt to see whether she had panties stuffed up her fuckhole. After the third day in a row of this, people realised that Niemira wouldn’t wear underwear even when people were deliberately exposing her, and then everyone started playing. Any time someone was in arm’s reach of Niemira, she would find her skirt being lifted or twitched to expose her ass and cunt.
On many days, someone would rip off her skirt entirely, leaving her bare-cunted in the school quadrangle or hallways. Luckily, there was nothing stopping Niemira bringing spare skirts to school, and she was quickly able to change.
Once, the idea of the whole school seeing Niemira’s twat would have made her feel like dying. Now, to her humiliation, she was coming to understand this was just what her life would consist of now. It was natural. SLUTS SHOULD BE HUMILIATED, said a voice in her head, and she knew deep down that she was a slut.
However, Niemira was slowly becoming aware that she was not the only girl at school facing regular embarrassment. Dawn, who Niemira had forced to continue playing Candy Girls, was now routinely referred to as “Sex Baby”, because she wore her hair in pigtails, sucked on a pacifier, and (rumour said) she wore diapers under her skirt. Callista’s friend Caity, it was said, had started staring at the other girls in the changerooms after gym practice, and started masturbating right there in front of them, so they were calling her “Dyke Slut”. And pretty Rowena, the cheerleader, didn’t seem to be able to close her legs or protect her pussy when a boy was looking at it, and there was a popular game developing at lunchtimes where the boys spread Rowena’s cunt open in the quadrangle as she blushed, and competed to find the grossest or most degrading thing to push into it.
These were all Candy Girls. They had each received their own forfeits, and those forfeits were fucking up their lives as surely as Niemira’s were.
She dimly recalled that her cousin Liz had played Candy Girls as well. Checking on Facebook confirmed that yes, Liz was having a similar experience, judging by the fact that she had apparently gotten a boobjob without her parents’ permission and was now sporting fake round EE-cup plastic udders that she looked completely humiliated by.
She didn’t know if all this made her feel better or worse. Better, because she wasn’t going through it alone, but worse, because none of these other girls had found a way to escape either, and they filled her with terror for where her own journey with the game might end.
She should talk to them about it, she thought. They should share experiences. Compare notes.
But before she could act on that thought, Caity beat her to it. The gorgeous long-haired slim-bodied blonde cornered Niemira in a corridor as Niemira was trying to rearrange her skirt from its latest disarray.
“Hi Niemira,” she said, blushing. “Um… I’m having a Candy Girls party tomorrow night. You play, right?”
“Yes,” said Niemira, also blushing. She didn’t know why she was blushing. She had gotten used to the fact that if someone was paying her attention, it was because she was a disgusting slut.
“I was hoping you could come to the party,” said Caity. “I’d really like you there.”
Every part of Niemira told her to say no. Nothing about Candy Girls ever turned out to be good for her.
And yet, she couldn’t. She tingled at the idea of a Candy Girls party in the same way that she yearned to play the game and wear its merchandise.
“Of course,” she said.
And just like that, her fate was sealed.