Chapter 7: The Big Shopping Day

Samantha was devastated, feeling the sharp sting of humiliation as she had no choice but to expose herself. She opened the door, her white tank top stretched down to her waist, her full, round tits bouncing out for everyone to see.

Anjali strutted out, a smug grin spreading across her face. “Looks like you’re eager to flaunt those melons, you little whore,” she taunted, eyeing Samantha’s bare chest hungrily.

“No ... Mistress ... I’m sorry,” Samantha squealed, desperation coating her voice as she tried to shield her breasts with trembling hands.

Anjali reveled in Samantha’s degradation. “I’ll let you cover up,” she purred, “but only if you swear to do anything I say, whenever we go shopping. And if you hesitate for even a second, I’ll not only leave you bare, but I’ll make sure you’re punished, right there for everyone to see.”

Samantha swallowed hard, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through her. She nodded eagerly, agreeing to her mistress’s terms.

Samantha slowly lifted her tank tops to hide her tits, feeling utterly exposed. Derik and her mistress, Anjali, couldn’t help but chuckle at her pathetic attempt at modesty. Anjali reached into her bag and pulled out a black collar that sent a shiver down Samantha’s spine. The collar had a tag dangling from it, with “Slut Samantha” etched on one side and “Anjali’s Property” on the other. Samantha’s heart plummeted as she stared at the humiliating declaration of her new status.

With a smirk, Anjali approached and snapped the collar around Samantha’s neck, securing it tightly. The cold metal digging into her skin served as a constant reminder of her subservience. The words on the tag were like a brand, marking her for all to see.

“Time for some fun,” Anjali announced, leading the way to the mall. Derik followed closely, leaving Samantha to stumble after them in her ridiculous 7-inch stilettos and barely-there micro skirt. Every step was a challenge as the skirt threatened to ride up and expose her bare pussy and ass to the world.

Her face burning with embarrassment, Samantha struggled to maintain her balance and dignity while her heart raced with fear. She was now a public spectacle, a toy for Anjali to show off and degrade. Each step echoed through the mall, drawing eyes and whispers from passersby who couldn’t help but notice the collared slut in their midst.

First shop they hit up was all bling and sparkles, jewelry galore. Anjali’s eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store, but she wasn’t after the sweet stuff. She grabbed a set of round hoops for Samantha’s ears, the kind that screamed “slut” without saying a word. Then, she strutted over to the waist chain part of the shop. She picked out a gold one that looked like something you’d see on a prisoner in a dirty movie, but with a twist - she had the owner carve a big “A” on one side of a padlock and “slut” on the other, just for kicks.

Once that bad boy was ready, she made Samantha put it on, cinching it tight around her waist. The metal was cold and heavy, a constant reminder of her degradation. Anjali was getting off on it, watching her slave squirm and blush as people stared. But she wasn’t done. Oh no, she had to go one step further.

She picked out a tiny ring, the kind that goes up your nose and says “I’m a slut and I own it.” She shoved it through Samantha’s nostril without a care in the world, making her wince as it pierced the flesh. The ring was cold and uncomfortable, but it looked hot as hell. With the chain around her waist and that ring in her nose, Samantha was now officially stamped as Anjali’s property.

The humiliation was thick in the air, like the smell of cheap perfume in a brothel. Samantha felt it in every cell of her body, a mix of shame and excitement that made her knees wobble. She was now the poster girl for sluttiness, and she couldn’t help but feel a twisted kind of pride. The bells on the door jingled as they left, her nose ring and the clink of the chain announcing their exit to the whole world.

Once the money was handed over, Anjali strutted off to the adjacent shop, with Derik and Samantha in tow. She marched down the aisles, grabbing armfuls of clothing and tossing them to Samantha. She scrutinized each garment, picking out the skimpiest and most revealing ones. The rest were tossed aside without a second glance.

A mountain of clothes grew as Anjali directed Samantha into a cramped changing booth. Inside, she was made to strip and squeeze into each outfit, one by one. The ones that barely contained her curves were selected with a malicious grin, while the rest were thrown out like garbage.

But the humiliation didn’t stop there. Anjali picked out garter belts and stockings that would leave little to the imagination. Samantha just stood there, a silent statue as the clothes were slapped onto her body. Anjali was the puppeteer, making all the decisions and enjoying every second of Samantha’s discomfort.

As if that wasn’t enough, Anjali had a final twist. To get a discount, she had Samantha perform a lewd act on the shop owner. The degradation was palpable, and Samantha could feel her dignity slipping away with each passing moment. Yet, she obeyed, because she had been reduced to nothing more than an object for Anjali’s amusement.

The shopkeeper dragged Samantha to the grimy storeroom, surrounded by towering cardboard boxes. He barked an order at her to strip, his voice thick with lust. She trembled, resisting at first, but when he slapped her and shredded her dress, terror flooded through her. She obeyed, leaving herself naked and exposed.

Samantha sank to her knees, her eyes watering with dread. The man’s erect cock loomed before her, and she took it in her small, trembling hands. She began to stroke it tentatively, feeling the roughness of his skin against her soft palms. He grew impatient, pushing her head closer to his crotch. She had no choice but to open her mouth and accept his girth. She gagged as he pushed deeper, her throat tightening around his swollen shaft.

He came hard, filling her mouth with hot, sticky cum. Some of it leaked out, running down her chin and onto her bare breasts. Samantha felt utterly degraded, a mere receptacle for his pleasure. She didn’t dare spit it out or wipe it away. Instead, she swallowed every drop, her eyes never leaving his as she did so.

When he was done using her mouth, he pulled his cock out, still hard and glistening. He smacked her across the face with it a few times before finally letting go. Samantha was about to ask for her clothes back when she realized they were in tatters at her feet.

In a pitiful voice, she begged him to give her something to wear. He chuckled, amused by her plight, and tossed a flimsy, backless tube top at her. She caught it, trying to hide her breasts with her arms as she pulled it over her head. The fabric clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination.

When she returned to Anjali and Derik, she recounted the humiliating incident. They both laughed at her misfortune, their amusement only serving to deepen her embarrassment. She was now their little cum-covered slut, dressed in nothing but a scrap of cloth that barely covered her modesty.

Next was the shoe store, a place that would add more embarrassment to Samantha’s day. Anjali forced Samantha to sit with her legs wide open, exposing her shiny private parts for everyone to see. The eager storeowner took the opportunity to serve them, bringing out a selection of see-through stilettos with various colorful details.