Exhibitionism Game

I walk down the empty street, both hands clutching the strap of my purse. The pounding of my heart is the only audible sound, aside from the faint call of the highway miles off. This part of town is empty, and almost completely abandoned. No jobs, no apartments, just rows and rows of long closed strip malls, surrounding a completely abandoned mall. Not even the homeless bother to set up here, given the absence of anything to do and the lack of public transportation.

That's why I'm here, admittedly. The emptiness is important, even if there's no actual guarantee that I'm alone. My phone buzzes, and I hold back a shriek as I startle. With a shaking hand, I pull it out of my purse and read the text message sent to me.

> Are you ready to play the game?

I take a deep breath, and send a simple 'yes' as my response.

> Good girl.

> Head to the Fashion Village a block down. Message me when you arrive for further instructions.

I walk forward, legs shaking as I move towards my destination. Goosebumps travel up my legs as a light breeze brushes against me, the cool air affecting me even through the thin tights. My short skirt swishes as I walk, barely reaching down to my mid-thigh. I clutch my purse tighter.

Fashion Village is a store, rather than an actual village, and like everything else around here it's long since gone out of business. The front window is missing completely, and there is nothing left aside from a lone mannequin. I send the message indicating my arrival, and receive a prompt response back.

> Leave your purse behind, along with one article of clothing, and then proceed towards the Mill-field Mall. Take your phone with you, of course, and you will receive further instructions once you arrive.

Numbly, I set my purse on the ground next to the mannequin. I hesitate for a moment on which piece of clothing to remove, before settling on my tights. I slide them down my smooth legs, stepping out of my shoes temporarily to get them off completely. I fold the tights, settling them down gently beneath my purse, and slip my now bare feet back into my shoes.

Despite still being clothed, I feel almost naked. There's nobody around, and yet I can't help but think of how bare my legs feel, exposed to the night air. I start walking, shivering all the more as the breeze tickles my skin uninhibited.

My eyes dart from side to side, but I remain alone on the moonlit streets. I squeeze my phone tightly with one hand, while the other rubs idly against the outside of my leg. Tingles of electricity spark where skin meets skin, and I bite my lip absently. My hand slides up my skirt, running gently along the side of my thigh. I'm at the edge of the parking lot when my phone buzzes again.

> You're at the edge of the parking lot, correct? I can see you on the cameras.

I swallow, glancing about the empty lot and making note of the security cameras affixed to the flickering lamp posts. Another confirmation is sent in response.

> Leave your panties behind before you walk to the front door.

Thumbs slip beneath the waistband of my panties, and I pull them down slowly. Dull white panties drop to the ground without ceremony. I take a step forward, and then another, leaving them on the asphalt without so much as a backwards glance. I'm shaking again, and my breath comes out ragged and harsh. Heat pools in my core as I become distinctly aware of the way my skirt brushes against my bare ass and pussy.

I can't help but rub my legs again, desperately resisting the urge to touch myself. I glance around again, confirming that the lot is empty and nobody can see me. Nobody, that is, except for the one sending me messages and watching through the cameras. They can see me, now that I've reached the mall. They know.

I swallow thickly, and step onto the sidewalk before the main entrance. There's a piece of white paper stuck to the door with the words 'please remove your shoes before entering' written in plain font.

I shuffle off my shoes, bare feet pressing against the cool concrete. I push open the glass double door, and step into the darkened mall. It's long abandoned, stores empty of all they considered valuable. Flickering lights hang from the walls, illuminating patches of hallway and store lobbies. They were clearly added by the security teams, attached to random walls with the cords snaking through to random outlets.

It's clean, which is the first thing that strikes me. Broken windows removed, and the glass swept up. No detritus on the floor to hurt me as I walk barefoot through the place. It's unusual, except I know that it's more so because there's nothing else to do when patrolling this place day in and day out.

> Walk to the Smoothie Shack, and follow directions on the note left there. Remember: I'm watching you.

I squeeze my legs together as I read the next message, and slowly walk forward. My jacket feels inadequate around my shoulders, made worse by the way it ends at my mid-riff. The blouse underneath is also thin and does little to hold back the cool air of the abandoned building. My nipples harden as I walk, sticking out against my white shirt and making it clear that I'm not wearing a bra.

I reach the Smoothie Shack and find that there's a sheet of paper taped over the faded menu. 'Special offer! One shot of Special Smoothie for only One Shirt in payment!'

On the counter is a small bottle with a clear liquid inside it. The label proclaims it to be an aphrodisiac, with a list of possible side effects and health warnings. I swallow thickly, and carefully take off my jacket. My shirt comes off next, leaving me wearing nothing but a skirt. My hair, barely long enough to reach the bottom of my ears, does nothing to hide my nudity. I pull on my jacket again, shivering at the feeling of cheap pleather against my bare skin. I don't zip it up, leaving my front only partially covered.

I take the bottle, opening it carefully and downing the contents in a single swallow. It tastes faintly of strawberry. The phone buzzes from its place on the counter.

> Good girl. Your next stop is the photo-booth outside the Funtime Arcade.

As if in a dream, I step away from the Smoothie Shack, my pulse racing as my bare feet smack against the cool tile floor. Tingles of pleasure run through me, and I absently reach up to run a hand across my breasts. I rub against my nipples, a thick breath escaping me as I do so. A faint trickle of wetness slides down my inner thigh, and I resist the urge to reach down and touch myself.

That comes later.

The photo-booth is where the message said it would be. The curtain that would normally provide privacy is long since missing, and it clearly doesn't function properly anymore. I step inside it regardless, sitting on the plastic bench under the light of a cheap stick-on wall light; the sort that runs on batteries.

There's a simple phone tripod affixed where the camera would normally be, and a note to the side that reads: 'Take a selfie to remember this moment! Cost: one article of clothing.'

My skirt falls to the ground in a heap. I set up my phone, hands shaking and fingers trembling with excitement. After making sure the angle is good enough to capture my whole body and face, I set a ten-second timer. I pull up my legs, making sure my bare feet are in frame, and spread myself wide with a smile.

The phone clicks.

I take a couple more, just in case.

I send all the photos to the messenger as proof.

> Very hot, good girl. Now, I need you to walk to the food court.

Arousal burns as I walk back into the main hallway. Nothing but a jacket covers me, and even that does little to hide my shame and arousal. Step by step I walk, hands running over my body in pure desperation and need. I can't wait, I don't want to wait.

The food court is empty, save for a collection of tables and chairs. One of said tables has a lamp on it, and beneath that lamp is a buttplug, a bottle of lube, a box of gloves, and note. 'Trade your last article(s) for a plug, and head for the Sears down the left! Leave your phone behind as well, as you won't need it where you're going."

I set down my phone, shuck off my jacket and set it aside, and them grab the plug with feverish need. The drug courses through me, making me oversensitive and aroused by every movement. I coat the plug, and then my asshole. I start with one gloved finger to loosen myself, and then move on to two. Gasps and moans escape my lips as I finger myself. I brace against a table, legs spread wide, and slowly push the plug up my ass.

Pleasure that I wouldn't feel without the drug courses through me. I push it all the way inside me, and finally cum. I stand there, orgasm washing over me as I wiggle the plug back and forth for more stimulation. Butt stuff doesn't normally do it for me, which makes this orgasm all the more wild.

I stumble to my feet, and walk towards the Sears in a daze. Each step causes the plug to shift inside me, sending thrills of arousal through me. I'm ready for another orgasm by the time I reach the old department store, desperate for any sort of release.

A light suddenly shines on me, and I freeze.

"Well well, what do we have here?" comes a smooth, husky voice. From out of the darkness comes a security guard, her hair tied back in a ponytail and her suit neat and pressed. Her eyes rake across my body, lecherously taking in my horny, helpless form.

"I-I-" I stammer, completely unsure what to say. The arousal blasted all thoughts from my mind, and all I can think of is how desperately horny I am.

"You're not supposed to be here," she says, stepping forward while keeping her flashlight aimed at my body. "I should turn you in."

My heart thuds in my chest. "Please don't," I say, voice wobbling with heat and desperation. "I'll do anything, just please don't tell anyone."

She looks me in the eyes and licks her lips. "Anything?"

"Anything," I repeat, pressing my legs together in excitement.

"Lets start with a blowjob," she says, unzipping her pants and pulling out a strap-on. More accurately, she adjusts the harness to the strap is pointing outwards, rather than hanging loose down her pant leg.

I step forward and drop to my knees in front of her, licking her plastic dick without hesitation. Her hand rests on my head, gentle despite everything, and she lets out and soft sigh. She's not getting anything from this, aside from the joys of watching me debase myself, and somehow that makes it hotter.

I reach down to touch myself, rubbing my fingers against swollen folds as I turn my gaze up to her. She lets this go one for half a minute, before she decides she wants more.

"Stand up, and bend over that counter," she says, pointing at a nearby checkout desk. I follow her orders, just like I have this whole night. She steps behind me, grabbing my plug and giving it a few wiggles as she adjusts her cock at my entrance. "I love how obedient you are."

I don't have a chance to respond as she enters me, pushing her strap in with a single motion. I gasp out, clutching the counter as she starts thrusting against me. My hips rock in time with her motions, and my squeaks and moans meld with her grunts of exertion. The strap and plug rub against me in tandem, pleasuring me exponentially with each pump of her hips.

"Please, fuck me harder," I beg, and she gives me a soft slap on the ass in response. My pussy squeezes around the dildo as I cum again, babbling words that mean nothing as she keeps thrusting against me.

"You're so hot like this," she pants, aroused by the mere sight of me desperate and naked against her. "Fuck, we need to do this more often."

"Yes, please," I manage to respond, despite my head swimming with pleasure and desperation. "Please please please."

"Please what, pet?" she asks, the diminutive sending another flash of pleasure through me.

"Please expose me and fuck me more," I say, moaning in ecstasy as her fingers squeeze my waist.

Her thrusts stop, and she leans against me. "Fuck, that was hot enough to make me cum. I love it when you debase yourself like this."

A thrill runs through my body, and I grind against her lightly. "Thank you."

"Let's make the most of these drugs," she says, voice thick with arousal. "Why don't we walk to the other exit door and fuck you against the glass?"

She pulls me back, keeping herself sheathed inside me, and pushes me forward. I walk at her direction, savoring the way she rubs against my innards as we awkwardly stumble towards the other side of the store. As promised, she pressed me against the cold glass and starts fucking me.

"Imagine if this mall was still open," she whispers into my ear from behind. "Imagine that people were coming and going, watching you get fucked like a slut against the door. Everyone would be able to see you."

I whimper and squirm, the image clear in my lust addled mind. "I'd be ruined," I force out, far more excited by the prospect than I know I should be.

"You would be," she says, one hand reaching around to grope my breast. "Don't worry, I'd still love you even if everyone knew you were an exhibitionist slut."

Her lips press against my neck, and I keen loudly. "I love you too, thank you, thank you."

The world spins lightly as I reach another orgasm, and I know I'm close to my limit. I place my hand over hers, squeeze twice, and she slows her movements.

"Such a good girl," she whispers, movements turning slow and tender.

Tears of joy prickle at my cheeks as the overwhelming sensations coalesce into love and affection. I go limp in her arms, and she holds me close. "You're going to be okay," she whispers softly.

I smile blankly, unable to process anything beyond the feeling of her arms wrapped around me. It's perfect, and hot, and everything I've always wanted.

*****

I stumble out of the shower, rubbing my hair dry in a towel and wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt. Alex is flipping through the security footage, carefully removing all the bits where I was naked on mall property. Technically it's illegal for her to do so, but nobody is going to check. She's been one of three security guards working this site for the last three years, and she's the only one who's been here the whole time. Functionally, what she says goes, and nobody cares as long as nothing gets broken or stolen.

I sit in the chair next to hers, wincing slightly as my ass touches the chair. I'm probably going to be limping and sitting gingerly for the next couple of days. Alex hands me a steaming cup of chocolate, and I sip at it with a blissful sigh.

"Thanks, Alex," I say, smiling at my girlfriend.

"Anytime, Sarah," she smiles back. "Least I can do after you indulged me like this."

"Pretty sure you were the one indulging me," I tease back, earning a chuckle for my trouble.

"Fair enough, but I really had a good time tonight," she turns, and gives me a quick peck on the cheek.

"Me too. Do you think we can do this again sometime?" I ask hopefully.

"For sure," she grins handsomely. "Maybe we can put together a fancier scenario. How do you feel about cuffs or restraints?"

"I'm willing to experiment," I allow. "Although it's not my first choice."

"We'll play around then," she says, patting me on the leg reassuringly. "I'm not going to push you too far, but I think it could be fun in moderation."

I'm really not sure about being that helpless, but if it's Alex, I'm willing to at least give it a try. "Do you mind if I hang out here for the rest of your shift? I think I'm too wired up to head home right now."

"Yeah, of course," she nods easily. "I'll grab all your clothes in fifteen when I make my next rounds. Your purse too."

"Thanks, but it's no big deal if you can't find them all. That was one of my throwaway purses and I left all the important stuff in my car." I take another sip of chocolate.

"Sure, but I'll still grab it," she says, flicking through the cameras absently.

I lean back in the chair, pulling up my legs and crossing them with a content hum. After a period of comfortable silence, she stands up, grabs a set of keys, and kisses me on the forehead with a smile. I close my eyes as she leaves the room, basking in the afterglow of our play and letting my muscles unwind. Slowly, I feel myself drifting to sleep as thoughts of future debauchery tease across my consciousnesses.

I can't wait until I recover enough to do this again.