"You got that money from your grandparents, right? Let's go get you a wardrobe"
From Create Your Own Story
Since that was what you had been wanting on the way over you nod and get up, letting her lead the way.
"How much do you have?"
"Oh, uh, two hundred."
"Damn, that must be nice, being loaded."
"Oh, we're not loaded."
"Sure, right. I have to save for months to get something new and my parents never have any money, but you, who don't have a job, have two hundred to spend."
"It's from my grandparents," is all you can think to say.
Tiffany just shrugs. "Whatever. Most girls would have to put out to get that much money." She looks over at you, the speculative expression on her face turning into a grin. "Oh you sly little slut. You're whoring!" she exclaims.
You freeze in place, horrified by the volume of her voice as well as the words, but she mistakes your silence for acknowledgement and slings her arm across your shoulders. "Well damn, I should've known a hardcore slut like you would find a way to make a profit from that little cocksleeve between your legs. D'ya charge all the boys?"
"N-no," you manage to stammer.
She nods wisely. "Just the old guys, I bet. Though you probably do a lot of them just for fun, right?" she doesn't even look to you for confirmation as she giggles to herself.
"Hey, let's go in here! They've got some good whore clothes," she says, abruptly pulling you into a shop. You're still reeling from her assumption that you're some underage hooker as she rifles through the racks, holding up one item after another for your approval, chattering the entire time. You barely register anything she says, nodding your head and smiling with the understanding that she's asking you about the clothes. Which she is, sort of, but it's more like...
"Oh, this needs to be shorter, doesn't it?"
"So have you been whoring for a long time?"
"Do you like fucking strangers for money?"
"So you probably charge barely anything. Like, just a few bucks?"
"Do you hate condoms?"
"Will you wear these out of the store when you buy them?"
"Great! Come to the change room," she urges, dragging you behind her. Your mind finally seems to emerge a little from your shock, enough that you realize you're now crammed into a tiny change room with your best friend and she's expecting you to strip.
"Well come on, get your clothes off and try these on. I don't want to blow the whole budget here but these are a great start."
"I, uh..."
"Oh come on, we both know you're not shy. Look, it's great that you love to fuck. I wish I was half as much a slut as you are. And whoring yourself out is brilliance. Even if you are real cheap," she says, and for some strange reason that actually re-assures you. It doesn't really make any sense on the surface, but you decide that if Tiff thinking you're a whore makes her jealous then maybe you can live with it. For now. You can set her straight later. Besides, you came to try on clothes, and the sooner you get to that the sooner she might stop focusing on the whore thing.
Starting with your shirt, you lift up your crop top self-conscious about the fact that, unlike Tiffany, you're still flat up-top. You hand over your shirt, partly to distract her and partly because your pants are tight enough that they require both of your hands. With some difficulty you manage to squirm out of them, not noticing that your thong came off with them. She walks out the door with all your clothes as soon as you've kicked off your shoes, leaving you with....
