Prepped and put on 'display'

Tried as you might, the door to the front of the shop wouldn't open. You even risked calling out to the sales girl you were talking to before but there was no response. It was quite clear to you now that it was a trap and you cursed your blindness that you could not have seen this coming from the beginning. You and the girls tried your cell phones, incredibly, but there was no reception in here. You spent the next few minutes trying to look for a way out. There were no vents or hidden doorways here at all. It was but a spacious storeroom full of the bait that you had so foolishly taken.

The blondie was back after some futile moments of searching. All of your girlfriends eyed her with a mixture of fear, anger and anxiety. You were about to speak when she suddenly lifted her hand towards all of you, gesturing with a raised open palm, speaking in a single word for you to stop. Immediately, everyone froze in place. The next words that came out surprised you. She ordered each of you to strip and dress yourselves from the piles in the nearest shelves. They were filled to the brim with all manners of underwear, stockings and heels. Without question, you and the girls quietly got to removing every piece of clothing. There was no sign of resistance at all, as if the response was natural. You were not even aware of the order. There was only the natural impulse to follow it. Now completely naked in the storeroom, you and the girls begin perusing the selection. You clip on an extremely skimpy black bra and matching black thong, both of which were almost completely see through. You select a set of comfortable heels to go with it, and instinctively brush at your hair to look presentable. The others had followed suit, and your once trendy look was now something much more... slutty. However, you did not feel even an ounce of shame or disgust, even as your mind was racing over what was happening. After the girls were done, you were ushered together by the blondie into the room where she came from. None of you protested or refused.

You were immediately stunned with what you saw. The corridor you walked in had murals of young naked women on them, all posed in positions that would make the cash on any porno magazine. As you pass through a doorway, you were up on a catwalk overlooking what looked like a small showroom floor with some dozen or so people in it. Majority of them were young women your age of all sizes and ethnicity. All of which were beautiful and well cared for. They were dressed similarly to you, walking around to various couches in the room where a number of men were seated and serving drinks. Some were even dancing on the tables to the shallow house music that blared in the overhead speakers and on some stripper poles in the middle of the room. Amidst a light purplish smoke in the air that smelt a lot like the aroma in the store you were in, it looked like some kind of strip club. Your anxiety shot through the roof as all male eyes watch you and your friends come down from the catwalk like wolves to sheep. However, you still did not protect your modesty at all, seemingly perfectly fine with being put on display like this.

The blondie turned as soon as you made it down by the floor. She welcomes you to the real 'Young Dreams', where any man could buy any girl on the floor for a price. Your purpose as the 'goods' was to entice them to buy you, of which you will be owned by specific people with some 'liberties' discussed with the client. She continued by saying that no unpaid 'sampling' was allowed. When a client pays, you are not to refuse him for any favors he might ask. If he wants to buy you, you were to look for her in her office at the far end of the room. Touching was perfectly fine. Just as she mentions this, you could see in the corner of your eye that one of the clients gave one of the girls a tight slap in the ass. For some reason, this did not shock you or your friends at all, neither did the fact that you were now goods to be sold in some illegal human trafficking syndicate, right in the back end of an ordinary American mall. She leaves you without giving you any opportunity to ask questions. Turning to your friends, you see that their anxious demeanor had all but faded. The squeamish one was even smiling, not minding her naked self. For some reason, you shared her cheer and abandoned any sensibility to the crazy scenario you had found yourself in. The more you took in the scent all around you, the foggier your mind became. There was no hesitation. Only an urge to please, and an anticipation over who you might meet and what might happen later.