Niemira woke at 4 am on the morning of the party, to find that she wasn’t in her bed.
She was on her knees, in the dark, and there was something in each of her hands, and something filling her pussy—which was wet, and throbbing. She realised she was completely naked—and there was a light coming from beneath her.
The light was her phone. It was placed between her legs, looking directly up at her nude cunt, and it was filming. Not just filming—streaming, live, over the internet, to some site she had never heard of. “Nude Candy XXX.”
And it hadn’t just been streaming. In her left hand she held the butt of the Candy Girls dildo, which she had apparently been eagerly fucking in and out of her twat.
She let go of the dildo, as if it were dirty, and it slid out of her pussy and fell to the floor with a thump. She wiped her hand (covered in her own cunt honey) on her tits to clean it off, and then quickly deactivated the phone.
Had she done that—set her phone to film her own pussy? In her sleep? The thought horrified her—but if she had, she knew how it had happened. Candy Girls.
She had something in her other hand too, but with the phone turned off, the darkness was now complete. She put whatever it was down, carefully, and turned the phone back on.
By the light of the phone flashlight, she could see that she was in the living room of her house, kneeling near the wall, next to the same table where she had first played Candy Girls. The item in her hand had been… a thick red crayon? Where had she found that?
And then she saw what she had been doing with it.
Written on the cream-painted wall of the living room, in large red letters, were the words, “I AM A DUMB SLUT. BOYS SHOULD SEE MY TITS.”
Niemira panicked. She ran to the kitchen sink to get a washcloth, and began to wipe at the wall frantically—but the words wouldn’t come off. Whatever kind of crayon this was—and she suspected now it had come from her mother’s art and craft supplies—it was water resistant. The words were going to have to be painted over.
There was no way she could get them off the wall. In a couple of hours, her parents would wake up, and see the words, and then they would have questions for her—questions Niemira couldn’t answer, because she couldn’t tell anyone about Candy Girls, or what it had done to her.
She made a whimpering sound as she stared at the confession of her whorishness on the wall. Without even thinking about it, she picked up the dildo and began to work it back into her cunt. Everything felt better when she was masturbating.
Then her eyes settled on an answer. Just down the wall stood a waist-height cabinet that held the good plates and dishes. It was just high enough to cover all the words—Niemira had been kneeling as she wrote them, after all.
Still masturbating—and not even aware she was doing it—Niemira walked to the cabinet, and tried to push it. To her immense gratitude, it was relatively light, considering the burden of dinnerware inside it, and she was able to slowly inch it down the wall until it completely obscured the obscene crayon scrawl.
She thought she could convince her mother that moving the cabinet was something she had done on a whim. She thought she could convince her mother to leave it there, and not try and move it back (which would reveal what Niemira had written). She thought she might get away with it.
But she also knew that from now on, whenever she looked at that cabinet, she would know what it concealed. And she would picture those words. And know how truly she deserved them.
She would have to dress when her mother woke up, to explain her sudden urge to redecorate, but there was a couple of hours before then that she could use to lie naked in bed and masturbate while playing Candy Girls.
However, when she opened her phone, she found herself instead going to her favourite social media profile, and typing in the words, “I am a dumb slut. My opinions don’t matter.”
Her eyes widened as she watched herself press “POST”, and saw the message go live to all of her friend. She scrambled to delete it—and to her relief, she was able to do so.
Memories began trickling back, and she started to realise exactly what had happened.
She had fallen asleep last night playing Candy Girls, with her headphones on her ears, and her dildo in her cunt, alternately buzzing pleasurably and shocking her viciously. Some time around midnight she had reached Level 7, and the bonus round had appeared.
“GOOD GIRL” had come the voice in her headphones, and once again Niemira had orgasmed just from hearing those words. It had told her to upload a video of herself nude, her face clearly visible, spreading her cunt lips open and calling herself a “dumb slut”—and she had done that. Then: “Watch the Candy Girls video, then enter your reward code. 60% chance of success, 40% chance of forfeit.”
Those were bad odds—the worst it had offered her yet—but what else could she do? Her mind had gone blank as she watched the chaotic, hypnotic snow on her phone screen, and when she emerged from her trance she had entered her code-word obediently—“Rape-Cow”.
The response had been immediate. “FORFEIT! YOU WERE UNLUCKY!” And then just a simple set of three words: “CONFESS YOUR WHORISHNESS”.
Now, Niemira had a sinking feeling in her stomach. She scrolled back through her social media—and was relieved to find no other embarrassing declarations. Then she checked her messaging—and there it was. A little before 1 am, she had messaged Tyler Gabarden—a boy she hated—with the simple text, “I masturbate to thoughts of being raped.”
The app indicated he had seen it.
He hadn’t replied.
She felt sick—ashamed, guilty, humiliated, dirty.
There was only one thing to do when she felt like this—switch her brain off, masturbate, and play Candy Girls. So she did.
And when the screen overflowed with candy, and the nasty dildo in her cunt gave her its agonising zaps, she knew she deserved them.
“Should I wear clothes?” ZZAP.
“Should I say no to boys?” ZZAP.
“Should I ask boys to cum in my mouth?” A deep, pleasant buzz—and she let herself orgasm.
The conversation with her mother about the cabinet was embarrassing and awkward—but Niemira got away with it . Afterwards she retired to her room to play more Candy Girls. She could have worn clothes to do it, but it felt better to do it nude, so she stripped and lay naked on her bed.
At some point she heard her parents leave the house, on some errand or other.
She took a cruel pleasure in slapping Sherbet Giggles to get her to behave in the game. Around noon, the game announced that Sherbet was due for more visitors, and showed Niemira another set of potential guests—an older man holding a whip, a ski-masked rapist, and a big titted bimbo prostitute. This time Niemira picked the rapist—and to her mixed horror and delight, the rapist did indeed slap Sherbet Giggle in the face, rip off the few scanty clothes she was wearing, and begin violently fucking the nude little cartoon avatar in the cunt.
The dildo in Niemira’s pussy went wild when this happened—buzzing furiously, at an intensity she hadn’t known it was capable of—and at the same time repeatedly and painfully shocking Niemira. She screamed—a short, surprised squeal—but there was no one to here. She felt herself bucking and writhing, as she watched Sherbet Giggles—who looked so much like Niemira—crying and struggling as the man raped her. For a moment, Niemira felt that she was Sherbet Giggles, and it was her who was being raped.
And then, suddenly, Niemira felt herself cumming—and on screen the rapist stiffened, obviously finding his own relief, before pulling his cock out of Sherbet Giggles’ cunt. White fluid dripped from Sherbet’s pussy onto the floor of her cartoon house, as the little animated slut wept tears of misery.
“You deserve it, you little whore,” whispered Niemira, not knowing why she was saying it.
On screen, text appeared. “THANK THE RAPIST.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Niemira—and as she did, Sherbet Giggles turned around and licked the rapist’s cock clean with her tongue, before leaning down to lick up the puddle of sperm that had dripped from her pussy.
The game resumed.
A little later, the front doorbell rang, and Niemira went to answer it. Her pussy wet, and her brain numb with arousal and fear, she didn’t even think about what she was doing until the door was all the way open, and she was looking into the eyes of the delivery boy, and saw them widening in surprise—and lust.
She was nude. She was completely naked. She hadn’t put her clothes back on. Worse, the Candy Girls dildo was still jammed up her pussy, and her inner thighs were slick with her cunt juices.
She squealed, and closed the door again—but then she heard her own voice in her mind. “SLUTS DESERVE TO BE HUMILIATED.” And she was a slut. And she did deserve this.
So she opened the door again.
The delivery boy was about Niemira’s age—maybe a little longer—and his eyes travelled up and down her naked body. Niemira could see what he was thinking—“What a fuckable whore!”—and she blushed—but at the same time, her hand moved to the dildo in her pussy, and slowly resumed fucking it in and out of her twat. Sluts deserved to be humiliated.
“A delivery for a Miss Niemira?” said the boy, after clearing his throat awkwardly.
“That’s me,” said Niemira. The boy scanned a barcode on a large cardboard box, and passed it to her.
More Candy Girls slutwear, no doubt. Maybe another delivery of her nutrient drink.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the box, and placing it on the ground inside the house. Doing so required bending over, which spread her ass cheeks to his gaze. When she straightened and turned back to him, he was still staring at her.
She felt her pussy throb.
“Slap me,” she heard herself say, and her eyes widened. Why had she said that? What was she doing?
But the delivery boy just backed away. “I… uh, I should go,” he said—and turned and fled, embarrassed by the fucked-up slut who had taken his package.
Niemira felt herself breathing rapidly. She scooped up the box, closed the door, and ran back to her bedroom.
Why had she said that to the boy? Had she really wanted him to slap her? It was what she deserved, she knew—only, why did she know that? Why did she deserve it? (Because she was a slut, of course.)
She pictured the boy slapping her. Stepping into her house and slapping her again. Making her do things, the way she made Sherbet do things when she slapped the cartoon girl. Ripping off her clothes like the rapist, forcing her down, shoving his cock into her pussy while she cried…
Her body shook, as she orgasmed powerfully. Her cunt spasmed, and she felt female ejaculate squirt from her twat and spatter over the cardboard box and the floor.
What was happening to her? What was she becoming? She didn’t know, but she knew she had to get down on all fours and lick up her girl-cum, so she did.
The box did indeed prove to hold several new pieces of clothing, plus a few bottles of nutrient juice. One was a tight black shirt with white writing that read “I CUM FROM RAPE”. Another was a pink shirt with a sexualised silhouette of a big-titted girl in a skirt, with the words “I’M NOT WEARING PANTIES”. A third, white shirt had no picture or words at all—just two circles of transparent plastic over the breasts, that would clearly show her tits to the world.
There was also a little bell, on a length of red ribbon that ended with a clamp. She was initially unsure what this was for, until she found a photo in the box. The clamp connected to her clitoris. The bell would hang between her legs, just level with the hem of her skirt, and jingle as she walked.
Lastly there was a pair of fuzzy felt pyjamas. Niemira initially felt excited about these, because they looked normal and chaste. But when she looked closer, she realised that the shirt portion of the pyjamas had no buttons, and would not close in the front, while the pants were too wide around the waist and had no elastic, and would have to be held up with her hand to avoid falling down. There was also a slit in the crotch, which didn’t expose her pussy, exactly, but through which a hand (or cock) could be slipped to directly access her pussy without removing the pants.
She would take these clothes to the Candy Girls party tonight, she knew.
But there were hours, yet. Hours in which to play Candy Girls.
It was not long after she returned to the game that the gameplay paused again. A picture appeared on her screen—a picture of a girl’s spread pussy. A photo. The vibrator in her cunt began to buzz intensely again.
There was text above the photo.
“THIS IS YOUR FRIEND CAITY,” it said. “LOOK AT WHAT A WHORE SHE IS.”
Niemira looked. The dildo was buzzing insistently. Niemira moaned, and became aware that she was getting wetter and wetter from staring at another girl’s vagina.
The photo must have been taken for the Candy Girls game. The game was sharing it with Niemira. She felt a twinge of fear—if she could see Caity’s cunt, who was seeing hers?
She felt her orgasm nearing—and then the dildo switched off. She moaned in frustration. She put a hand on it, to masturbate herself to her release—and as soon as she touched it, it shocked her. She jerked her hand away.
“TO ORGASM, BE A GOOD GIRL AND SHARE CAITY’S SHAME,” said the game. “WHO SHOULD SEE CAITY’S CUNT?” And then three buttons appeared. “(1) STRANGERS ON THE INTERNET; (2) HER BROTHER; (3) EVERYONE AT HER SCHOOL.”
Smaller text appeared beneath. “KEEP STARING, AND AVOID CUMMING, TO KEEP CAITY’S SECRET.”
She knew she shouldn’t press a button. She shouldn’t humiliate Caity…
… except she should. Sluts deserved to be humiliated. And anyway, she needed to cum.
She pressed “(2) HER BROTHER”.
“GOOD GIRL,” said the game, and the dildo buzzed, and Niemira was cumming again.
It occurred to her that she was going to Caity’s house that very night. Had her brother really seen the photo now? How would the game know how to send it to him?
Well, it was installed on Caity’s phone. And if it could see her phone contacts…
She thought of how humiliated and betrayed Caity would be if her brother saw her cunt. She thought about what thoughts it might inspire in Caity’s brother. She thought about Caity knowing that her brother had seen her cunt every time she looked into his eyes, for the rest of her life…
Niemira found herself cumming again, and realised she was looking forward to the next time the game let her betray one of her friends.
“Slap me,” she whispered, not really aware of what she was saying. “Slap me. I deserve it. I deserve it…”