A Gift Amongst Friends Ch. 09

If I open it too much then it's a lot harder to pretend that it was an accident.

The changing room was small and cramped, with barely enough space to bend over without bumping her head against the full length-mirror in front of her. It was just as wide, and if she raised her arms then each of her elbows would bump the opposing walls at her sides. Aside from the mirror, the only other feature of the room was a row of hooks on each of the two side walls.

The tiny space was also brightly lit, with a small lightbulb above her that illuminated her every detail in the mirror but made everything outside of the changing room seem darker by comparison. Through the mirror's reflection, the gap in the curtain revealed a shroud of darkness. If she stared, she could barely make out the racks of clothing immediately outside of her little bubble of privacy.

Mandy smiled.

She quickly hung up the clothing, clumsily and loudly slamming the plastic hangers onto the metal hooks. She hoped that the noise would help to announce her presence and her imminent undressing. Even more, she hoped that someone would respond to the announcement.

She took her time performing this act while she picked her first item to try on. Settling on a bland green top that she had no real intention of buying, she decided it was now or never. Grabbing the bottom of her top, she pulled it up, spilling out her large braless breasts.

In the mirror, she watched herself undress. Standing in only her skirt, she admired herself. She could not really tell if anyone had taken a position outside of the changing room without staring at the gap in the curtain and giving away what she was really here for.

So instead she carried on with her performance, grabbing the green top and pulling it over her head.

It looked just as bland as she had expected but she continued with the act, examining her image in the mirror. Stalling for time and attempting to spice up her plan, Mandy pulled her phone from her pocket. Turning on the camera, she pointed at her reflection and posed for several photos.

Looking at them on her screen, she focused instead on the curtain and the small gap beside it.

Nobody there, she thought.

Removing the top, she browsed through the remaining articles of clothing without a concern for her exposure. Finding a slightly nicer brown tank top, Mandy tried it on. To her surprise, it fit quite well and actually looked pretty good on her.

Maybe I will end up buying some of these after all.

Again, she took out her phone and snapped several photos. Again, she found no audience.

As she put on the third top, Mandy was starting to wonder if this plan was going to fail. However, as she examined her screen to examine the third set of photos, another smile crept across her lips.

Hello there, she thought, staring at the image of the man now browsing the clothing just outside of her changing room. It's show time.

It was all muscle memory, just like it had been in the dormitory in front of the open window, and just like it had been in her own bedroom with Arthur and his friends watching. Mandy turned to fully face the mirror and peeled off her shirt, careful to strike a balance in her performance between sexy and oblivious. Again, her large breasts spilled free for the pleasure of anyone who might be watching.

She snapped several more topless photos of herself, wishing desperately to postpone getting dressed. She loved how these topless selfies made her look like just another narcissistic young slut. She hoped that this act of improvisation helped to sell her act to this stranger.

Mandy gave a sultry look to the camera and even flashed a peace sign for one topless photo. She wanted to look confident. She wanted to look fun. She wanted to look like some stupid girl taking topless pictures for a partner or someone special, ignorant to who else might be watching.

On the screen, the man looked closer than he had been before. His body was oriented towards the racks of clothing in front of him, giving the impression that his attention was elsewhere. However, his eyes were unmistakably staring back at her from the phone.

Knowing that she was being watched, she felt a surge of numbing butterflies in her stomach. The feeling never got old or lost its allure no matter how many times she experienced it. Mandy wondered if this was the pleasant burst of dopamine that addicts experience, as she had learned about in her psychology courses.

Does that mean I'm physiologically addicted to self-exposure? It was a rhetorical question, but she feared the answer nonetheless.

She struggled with the next shirt, taking several extra seconds to find the opening. How it looked on her body barely registered in her mind, but she continued going through the motions of looking at herself in the mirror. She was now halfway through the assortment of clothing she had brought into the changing room. Every new outfit felt like an obstacle between her and her true intention--undressing over and over again.

It was time to raise the stakes.

Mandy pulled off her top and hung it on the nearby hook. Again, she examined herself in the mirror. Grabbing the elastic waistband of her skirt, she pushed it downward. The material tightened around her body as it stretched over her firm round ass and down her hips, then loosened as it reached her knees and dropped to the floor.

Naked, save for her sandals, she took her time stepping from the pile of material and hanging it with her own personal belongings. She felt wonderfully naughty, completely exposed and brightly illuminated in this tiny changing room.

Grabbing her phone, she took several more selfies, similar to the ones before but now much more revealing. She could not resist taking a couple of more seductive photos, grabbing her own breast and running the palm of her hand over her hairless vulva.

Unsurprisingly, her voyeur was still present in every photo, watching her every move.

She grabbed another tank top and skirt and slowly put them on. In the time it took to get dressed, she heard the bell ring on the shop's door. Several loud and distinctly male voices entered.

When it came time to take a picture of this newest outfit, she found the gap in the curtain empty.

I guess he was scared of being caught, she assumed disappointedly.

She squinted in the mirror to confirm that her observer was indeed gone. Feeling brave, she turned and casually looked out from her changing room. Seeing nobody there, she pushed her face closer to the opening in the curtain, allowing her to see more of the store.

The man who had been watching her had quickly retreated to the far side of the shop, closer to the front counter. Four younger men had entered, looking around Mandy's age. They shouted and swore, apparently deciding that everyone in the store wanted to hear their conversation.

"I don't fucking care what you say," one said with a glee in his voice. "You'd 've been down there in a second if she texted you."

"Fuck off man," another responded defensively with a laugh. "No way."

"Okay sure, you tell yourself that. Even Wen knows that's bullshit but whatever."

They laughed and carried on, seemingly more interested in their conversation than the clothes on the racks. Mandy knew their type and she was not a fan.

A bunch of insecure bros that think they're alpha males, Mandy thought to herself. Fucking losers.

Even so, she turned back towards the mirror and felt compelled to carry on as if nothing had changed. She picked up a hanger and loudly dropped it on a hook, hoping to re-assert her presence. Part of her felt annoyed, like an actor that had been interrupted in the middle of a performance and now had to start the entire scene over again.

She looked at the clothing in front of her, realizing she was almost done with only one shirt and a short-skirt left to try on.

Or I could try on some of those other tops again with this skirt. That brown one was actually kind of nice...

In a flash, her top was gone and her large breasts were once again exposed. She took her time, hearing movement throughout the store but unsure where everyone was situated.

Then it happened.

"Oh shit." The voice was so low that she almost did not hear it. "Guys..."

Silence followed, but Mandy knew exactly what was happening without needing to see it. She continued her act of getting dressed, reaching up to pull her head through the tank top and pulling it down into place.

The next selfie sent a shiver down her spine. In the narrow gap of the curtain, the four men were closely packed together. They were all trying to line themselves up with the best vantage point. All eyes were glued to her and they were making no effort to hide it like the previous man had done.

For a moment, she wondered what he was now doing in the store, seeing that his jackpot discovery had been lost to some undeserving young tools. For that matter, she wondered if the cashier would look up and take notice of what was happening in the far corner of the store.

Choosing not to think about it, Mandy took off the top and the skirt, smiling at her nude body in the mirror.

She reached up and took another selfie with one hand while running the fingers of her other hand through her hair.

A goddess.

She ran her fingers down her neck, over her breast, and over her toned stomach. She reached down further and played with her outer labia for just a moment, teasing herself just as much as her audience. With two fingers, she spread her glistening lips open ever so slightly, snapping another picture in the process.

A slut.

She turned her body in the narrow changing room, pushing her ass seductively towards the mirror while looking over her shoulder at her own reflection. She took another picture as she blew a kiss.

An object... a toy for the pleasure of others.

Deciding that this was going too far, she grabbed the last items of clothing and put them on. They barely fit her and looked very unflattering. Even so, she grabbed her phone decided to take another picture.

She froze.

Mandy stared at the image on her screen. In the opening she had left for her voyeurs, several of the guys were now holding their cellphones, apparently photographing or recording her.

It would be stupid of me to be surprised.... Of course they are going to record me if I'm giving this kind of show in public. Still, it felt like a betrayal by these complete strangers. She knew it was time to call it a day and leave, but she still needed to change back into her own clothes.

Resigned to the fate she had set for herself, she undressed one last time knowing that the entire act was being recorded on four separate phones. Bending over to pick up her skirt from the floor her bare ass brushed against the curtain, pushing it ever so slightly aside and widening the view of her backside.

She knew that she needed to stop this. She needed to get dressed quickly and leave.

Still bent over at the waist, Mandy suddenly no longer felt the curtain against her back. In the mirror, she saw that one of the boys had pulled it aside entirely. She saw the reflection of a phone pointed directly at the swollen lips of her bare womanhood. Her legs were spread ever so slightly and the camera was less than two feet from her most private openings. Doubtless, her asshole and pussy were fully on display, ingrained in these men's minds and immortalized on this one stranger's camera.

"Best outfit you got right there," one of the young men said.

Mandy's face turned a bright shade of red.

Her body tensed and a shiver bolted up her spine as a single finger touched her labia, gently tracing a straight line upwards. It pressed slightly between her lips, over her perineum, and brushed over her asshole as it slipped between her ass cheeks that instinctively clenched around it.

There's no way he didn't feel how wet I am.

Mandy was still frozen, bent at the waist. Even in her most extreme predictions, she had not anticipated these young men being so brazen. She hated them for it even as she admired their bravery.

As she stood upright, she half-expected for the young man to hold her down in her rightful place. She hid her disappointment when he did not.

She quickly tried to weigh her options.

She could scream. Had the young woman at the counter not seen any of this happen? The changing rooms were turned away from the counter so it was unlikely that this woman had seen much, even if she had noticed these young men hanging out around the area. Where was the other man that had watched her earlier? Was he still watching from afar? Was he about to intervene or was he just jealous that he had not done the same thing sooner? Surely, somebody would have to respond if she made a scene. It was the obvious choice, but she looked for alternatives.

She could let these guys fuck her right where she stood. The only obvious upside to this choice was that she yearned for it with every inch of her young supple body--a body that yearned to be bred like the slut that she knew she had become. However, she was not a complete idiot and she immediately threw that option in the category of wishful thinking. Even the oblivious girl behind the counter would take notice and call the police.

Mandy looked for an answer between the two extremes, but her mind failed her as she turned and looked at her audience head-on.

Her silence spoke for her. If her dressing room performance had left any ambiguity about her intentions, the guys now knew for certain that she was complicit in everything that had happened and anything else that might happen. She was an exhibitionist that wanted her body, her perky breasts and her fertile pussy, to be seen.

"I knew there was no way you were doing that by accident," the same man spoke, looking at his glistening finger that had just teased her most intimate openings. His camera was in his other hand, still pointed at her.

"I..." She had trouble forming words. She was not afraid but her thoughts felt incorporeal, melted away like ice in boiling water. It was embarrassing that she could still be so easily to catch off guard after all of these months. It had just recently happened in Arthur's kitchen when those older men had dared to lift her skirt, to finger her, and to immediately learn her true nature and worth.

And now it was already happening again.

She tried again. "I... I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh fuck off," he said with a laugh. It was not anger, but rather amusement. He had learned the truth about her and he was not going to let her deny it for even a second. "Don't mind us though, just keep doing what you were doing." He pulled the curtain open the rest of the way. "Just leave it."

As they recorded her silent stare, she wondered if she was maybe in a strange dream, half nightmare and half fantasy-come-to-life. She was waiting for their next move, delighted to give herself to them however they saw fit.

But they did not act.

Mandy grabbed her skirt and nearly tripped as she stepped into it.

"Of course she wouldn't have any panties," one of the other guys said. "Wouldn't wanna cover up that cunt when all you really wanna do is show it off."

It was insulting, even if it was true. They watched her dress, occasionally commenting on her body and her apparent willingness to show it.

"Look at me and show us those nice titties one more time, girl."

"My name's not 'girl'..." She said meekly. It might have been an act of defiance if she was not otherwise doing exactly as she was told. As she spoke she looked directly at the phone and the young man holding it, cupping her breasts in each hand.

That drew a smile from the closest boy. "Okay cunt, what's your name?"

His new nickname sent a quiver through her. "Mandy."

"Mandy what?"

"Donovan."

"Is that your real name? Sounds fake."

Why am I answering these creeps at all?

She nodded, wishing she had given a fake name or no name at all. Even for Mandy, this felt impulsive and compromising. She was operating on automatic, a passenger in her own body.

"Okay Mandy, I'll send you a friend request later. For now, might as well keep giving us a show like you were before."

"I have to go." The wheels were still spinning in her mind as she grabbed her top. Whatever was about to happen next, she knew she needed to leave this store.

"You sure? How about we go somewhere else and see if you know how to use that body? That's what you wanted, right?"

"No..." Her voice wavered. How could she expect for these men to believe her if she did not even believe herself? They continued to watch her put on her last piece of clothing. "I'm leaving."

It was not a scream. It was not a cry for help. It was a matter-of-fact statement, as casual as asking the time. It completely ignored the ridiculousness of the situation. It ignored how the only thing between these young men and her complete submission to their bodily desires were two witnesses in a very public setting.

Mandy considered grabbing the brown top she had grown surprisingly fond of, but decided it was not worth staying longer in the store to pay. The longer she stayed in this store, the more time she had to abandon her senses and let these guys take her home. She left the items on the hook and stepped out into the more visible aisles of the store.

She immediately found the older guy that had previously spied on her. He had apparently lingered close enough to witness the whole exchange, even if he had not been able to see her himself. They locked eyes for a moment as Mandy passed him.

The cashier looked up from her book, seeing Mandy for the first time. "Hey," she said flatly. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and she looked tall, although it was hard to tell while she was seated. Mandy thought she was beautiful, but she knew that her own brain was currently primed for sex and she could not necessarily trust her judgement. She felt flushed as she quickly imagined all of the things she would do with this stranger right now if given the chance. The woman looked at her and then at the guys behind her. "Were they bugging you back there?"

Nope, they just watched me strip completely fucking nude, almost fingered my asshole, got the whole thing recorded from multiple angles, and I gave them my fucking name.

"No," she said instead. "I know them. We were just chatting."

Or it might be more accurate to say "they know me" instead. After everything that just happened, those guys knew a lot about her.

As if on cue, one of the guys spoke. "Later, Mandy."

Mandy looked back at the girl and forced a smile as she walked past her.

She left the store and walked back to the car, expecting the young men to immediately appear behind her. She waited for them to follow her, intercepting her before she got to the car and offering a more alluring alternative to going home alone. She wondered how she might respond to such an offer. She wondered how they might react if she turned down their offer, and she fantasized about how she wanted them to react.

However, they did not follow. Mandy waited another minute inside the car before leaving in shame. Even after all that she had done, she was apparently no longer worth their time.

Two hours later, she pulled into the driveway and went to her room feeling sullen and ashamed. By dinner time, it was like nothing had happened as Mandy chatted with her mother at the table. A pair of friend requests awaited her when she returned to her room and checked her phone. She ignored them, even as she took small comfort in knowing that she was at least worth such a minimal effort on their part.