He dresses you like a whore.

The clerk continues to twist and turn his fingers inside your tight pussy. Though you hate his guts and are appalled by the thought of him fingering you, at the back of your mind the part of you that still thinks like a guy is thinking how cool it would be to have a chick looking as hot as you do in this position. These innermost thoughts prove to be a liability as you feel the movement of his fingers become easier inside you as your virgin pussy begins to dampen. His knuckles grate against your vaginal lips as his fingertips tickle the moistening walls of your vagina.

"Holy shit you're getting wet quick enough." He gloats. "Like getting fingered by a guy dont'cha? Bet you were some sort of closet fag before."

You twist your head around to glare at the man and see that the crowd outside the window has swollen to half a dozen guys. They stare at the scene being played out inside the shop. You feel the fingers pull out from you and the the clerk put's his hand on your ass and uses his fingers to spread your buttocks. Your sphincter goes tight with shock as you feel a finger press against your asshole. He presses hard, but you're clenched so hard his attempt to enter your ass is thwarted.

"Still got hangups though aint'cha sweets?" He laughs. "No problemo for me. I wish you'd relax your tight ass."

His finger sinks into your anus as your ring instantly relaxes. Unlike the intrusion into your pussy, you can instantly relate to indignity being down to you. Your mouth opens in a silent scream of outrage as you attempt to protest at this latest violation. You pull away sharply and and back away from the clerk with both hands clasped over your ass. He laughs at your reaction.

"You didn't like that did you bitch?" He chuckles. "Never mind, there's plenty of time for that later. I'll soon have you squealing like a cat on heat and begging for me to fuck that ass."

"Guess we'd better get you some clothes now." He tells you. "Feeling you up's got my cock throbbing for a taste of you and I can't wait to get you out of here."

He walks round the store picking items of clothing out and soon has an outfit picked out. Apparently you get no say in what you're going to wear. He pushes the clothes into your hands and stands back to watch your reaction.

The clothes in the store are mostly designed for teenagers and the majority are cheap punk styled clothes. The little pile in your hands hardly seems to have enough material to clothe a child let alone a woman. You hold up a tiny crop top and see that it's black with red graffiti type print saying '100% slut' across the front. You hunt through the pile looking for a bra but realise that there isn't one, nor is there any underwear. You frown up at the clerk.

"Yeah, we don't stock lingerie and I probably wouldn't give you any if we did." The guy admits.

You pull it over your head regardless, relieved to be able to put on anything at all right now. It takes quite some tugging to get the flimsy top down over your massive breasts and when it's down it leaves your whole midriff exposed. The material is stretched so tightly that your hardened nipples stick out obscenely.

"Fuck! Don't breathe out to hard in that baby or those jugs will split that top apart." He jeers.

You pick up the skirt he's chosen. It's red tartan with a wide leather belt and so short you doubt it'll even cover your whole ass. Any attempt to bend over in it will make it ride up to reveal everything you've got. You step into it and pull it over your hips and tighten the belt. There's a thin, bolero styled leather jacket which is at least halfway sensible and you put that on gratefully. You try to zip it up, but discover it's way too small in the chest to get the zip over your breasts. You leave the top half hanging open and framing your jutting tits. The final item is a pair of knee high leather boots with zips down the sides. You pull the on. Thankfully the heels are only a couple of inches, but you still feel strange and unsteady in them.

"Cool, you look like your ready to peddle your ass on a street corner." The clerk mocks. "Pity we don't do cosmetics, we coulda really made you look like a cheap whore. Take a look at yourself in the mirror."

You turn and look at your reflection in a fitting mirror. The clerk's right, you look like a tramp straight out of a trailer park. The clothes hardly conceal anything when you're standing still and will be even worse once you're moving about. The bastard is laughing out loud as he gets your credit card out and puts it in the card machine on the checkout. He looks at you and grins as he wishes you to tell him your PIN number.

"Spose I coulda just boosted this shit." He says casually. "But what the fuck, you're paying for them and it'll keep the pigs off my ass when I don't turn up for work again."

"You ready to go bitch?" He asks. "Gonna turn a few heads dressed like that. Any guy with lead in his pencil will be thinking what it'd be like to nail your ass."