A few hours later...

"It's not enough," Angela said.

Deena, standing in the middle of the supermarket, her feet bare on the cold tiles, didn't agree. But, wisely, she kept her mouth shut.

She looked to her left, at the curvy, pink-haired student with the nose ring, whose name was Chloe. She looked to her right, at the slender, owlish brunette who ran the local bookstore, whose name was Winifred. She was standing in the centre of a row of seven women, lined up and on display before the rest of the townsfolk.

None of them were wearing anything but their underpants.

For the first hour, it had just been her. She'd been made to crawl around the store in just her white panties, her tits swaying beneath her, while Angela laughed and smacked her bottom to urge her on. She'd begged for mercy, but the townsfolk were half-crazed with fear of the mist. There was no reasoning with them. They'd do anything if they thought it would save them from sharing Shannon's fate.

But, as time rolled on, some of them began to glance uneasily at the strange shapes swirling outside the door.

Chloe had been the first to protest. Humiliating a cop was fun, but was it really getting them any closer to a way out? How did they know this wasn't exactly what the mist wanted them to do? Maybe it got a sick thrill out of tricking them into embarrassing each other, before breaking in through the door and having its way with all of them anyway.

Angela couldn't tolerate anyone questioning her authority. So Chloe, plump and perky, was the next to be stripped down to her skull-patterned black panties. Angela knew she had a crush on Pete, so she made sure the handsome young man got a good view as Chloe and Deena were made to perform doggy tricks, begging and barking and rolling over, even kissing each other's panty-clad bottoms.

That kept everyone silent for a while. It was almost half an hour before a pair of cheerleaders, one blonde and bubbly, one dark-haired and fiery, found the courage to suggest that maybe someone should try to find way out of the supermarket. At Angela's command, the mob stripped them down to their bright red spanky-pants and made them apologise on all fours for ever doubting her.

But a seed had been sown. Angela didn't have a plan, really, beyond bullying a few people to keep everyone else in line. Time rolled on in the supermarket, and nobody was really doing anything beyond snacking on junk food, teasing the stripped girls and watching the mist.

It couldn't go on forever. Even as she bent over a shopping cart to let Angela give her a good spanking, before pouring honey all over her breasts and making the cheerleaders lick it off, Deena could see the signs of dissent. A few more women complained, and were added to the ranks of the stripped.

Something had to give.

So, finally, Angela had lined them all up in the middle of the supermarket. Standing with their hands on their heads, stripped down to their panties, bare breasts of all shapes and sizes hanging free, undergarments of all styles and colours on display. For one last display of authority, to buy herself another hour or so of control.

"It's not enough," she said, as the girls squirmed before dozens of eyes, their nipples stiff in the cool air, desperately hoping someone would find the courage to step in and save them. Deena could see doubt in a few people's faces, but she knew Angela still had the upper hand. As long as they were scared of the mist, they'd do as she said.

"It's not enough," repeated Angela, grinning like a madwoman. "We need a real sacrifice."