Merry Meetup

Still confused you leave the car once you are at the car park. The fabric is rubbing against your nipples as your mother possessive holds your hand and drags you with her to the mall. Of course, they didn't allow you a bra. Sluts don't wear bras.

Entering you take a quick look around but realize that the mysterious caller never said where to meet exactly or even how to recognize her. Before you can start searching, your mother pushes you towards the first fashion store. "This way, dear, and remember: You are our little slut, so choose your clothes accordingly. Mommy has to visit the pharmacy. When I come back, I want to see you dressed in a little less moderate style then this." She gestures to your current outfit. Looking down your body you ask yourself how wearing less is even possible without being arrested for public exposure.

Maybe you can find something that gives you a camel toe. You are sure that your mom would like that.