The café was buzzing quietly, patrons sipping lattes and scrolling through their phones. In the corner, tucked under oversized sunglasses and a simple black cap, Ariana stirred her coffee. Just her, alone. Her finger traced the rim of the cup, enjoying this small, precious solitude.

 

But then, the whispers started.

 

“Is that…?” One girl whispered too loudly. Heads turned. Recognition rippled across the room. Eyes widened, fingers pointed. A low murmur surged—her name—carrying through the shop like wildfire.

 

One bold fan rushed forward, phone out, camera blaring. “Ariana! Can I get a selfie?” Before Ariana could respond, more swarmed in, a mass of bodies pressing against her tiny table.

 

“Guys, please, one at a time,” she tried, voice sweet but strained. Her smile was tight, plastered. Her bodyguard took a step forward, but she waved him off. “It’s okay,” she mouthed, then louder, “I love you all, I really do.”

Hands darted forward, clawing for a piece of her, too eager, too rough. One hand snagged the cuff of her blouse, yanking hard. Ariana let out a high-pitched “Eeeee!” as she felt the seam give way.

 

The blouse split with a nasty pop, exposing the smooth tan skin of her shoulder. Soon the sleeve was dangling from her wrist like a loose, broken chain. “No! No! They’re tearing off my clothes!” she cried, panic rising. “Where is my bodyguard?”

 

Ariana’s eyes locked onto her bodyguard just a few feet away, but it might as well have been a mile. She tried to break free, tried to push through, but the wall of people swallowed her whole. Hands grabbed, tugged, and jostled her, a chaotic tide pulling her deeper into the crowd. There was no anger or intent to hurt her—just a frenzied desperation to touch, to claim a piece of the star before she slipped away.

 

Rrriip! Ariana felt a sudden tug at her knee. Her eyes darted down, panic flooding her face. “No! Not my skirt!” she squealed, voice high and breathless. She was caught in the middle of the crowd, pulled in two directions like a doll being fought over.

 

“Stop! Let go!” But they didn’t. Shriiip! Shriiip! The soft fabric of her mini skirt stretched and strained, turning into a fragile rope in a ruthless tug-of-war. Her voice came out in desperate little gasps as she tried to twist free, arms flailing. Then the 115-pound girl began to spin, caught between too many hands, stumbling in her too-high heels—the same heels she insisted on wearing to look taller.

 

“Please!” she whimpered, but every step, every stumble, made it worse. Riiip! Riiip! Shriiip! The hem of her skirt crept higher and higher up her thighs, flashing more skin with each twist and turn. Ariana’s cheeks flushed a deep pink as she spun, helpless and dizzy. Her girly gasps and high-pitched cries were swallowed by the noise of the crowd.

 

Then—Pop! The waistband snapped with a sharp jolt, and suddenly she was free. Ariana staggered, wide-eyed, staring down in shock. The torn remains of her skirt dangled uselessly from her fingers, and her long, tanned legs—toned calves and soft, curvy thighs—were completely exposed.

 

“Wow! What a pair of legs she has!” she heard someone shout, and her heart pounded. Just a small, trembling triangle of underwear remained between her thighs, a flimsy shield protecting what little was left of her modesty. She let out a soft, horrified whimper, eyes huge and shining.

“What is happening!”

 

Ariana spotted a storefront up ahead and made a desperate dash for it. “Almost there, almost there—” she panted, heart racing. But just as she neared it, someone grabbed the collar of her blouse and yanked her back.

 

Riiip! Pop!

 

A button flew off, bouncing along the sidewalk. She gasped as her blouse gaped open, her cleavage spilling forward for everyone to see. “No! Stop it!” she shrieked, hands darting to cover herself.

 

More hands reached out, clawing and pulling the blouse down her shoulders. Shriiip! Pop! Pop! Buttons scattered everywhere as the front ripped all the way to her belly button. “Let go!” she pleaded, voice high and frantic, but they didn’t listen.

 

Riiip!

 

With a final tear, the blouse slipped off her body. Ariana staggered forward, stumbling out of the shredded fabric, left in just her bra and panties. Her small breasts bounced with each step, barely contained in the lacy cups. The crowd gasped and murmured. “So that’s Victoria’s Secret!” someone yelled.

 

“Eeeeek!” Ariana squealed, arms flailing as she tried to cover herself. The heat of the sun hit her bare skin, making her blush from head to toe. “No, no, no!” she whimpered, wide-eyed, feeling every gaze on her.

 

“Wow! What a body!” echoed from the crowd. Ariana shuddered, cheeks burning red. She wrapped her arms around herself, breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

 

“Stop looking!” she cried, voice breaking, but it was no use. They were all staring—staring at her long legs, her flat stomach, the way her underwear hugged her curves. Mankind had waited years for this sight.

 

“Get inside, Ari!” An employee shouted, holding the door cracked open, arm outstretched. They were trying to pull her to safety, but the crowd wasn’t having it.

 

“No! Eee!” Ariana squeaked as hands reached for her bra. Fingers hooked under the straps, yanking and twisting.

 

Snap!

 

Ariana stumbled forward, her bra floating away like a feather on the wind. She gasped, her chest bouncing free for all to see. Her small 33A breasts jiggled with every panicked step. “Oh my God!” someone yelled. “Look at those!”

 

“Stop!” she cried, trying to cover herself, but it was too late. The crowd’s gaze was locked on her, hungry and relentless.

 

And before she could even process the horror of it, she felt another tug—this time lower.

 

“No! Not that!” she shrieked, voice breaking. Hands gripped the thin waistband of her panties, pulling hard. The tiny triangle stretched tight, biting into her, before—

 

Snap!

 

Her underwear snapped away, ripped clean off. Ariana froze, bare and exposed. She stood there, trembling, cheeks burning red as she realized just how completely stripped she was.

 

“Wow! Just wow!” someone shouted. “What a body!”

 

Her heart hammered, skin burning under the unforgiving sun. She wrapped her arms around herself, legs squeezing together, but there was nowhere to hide. Every inch of her was on display, and the crowd’s cheers only grew louder.

 

Suddenly, Ariana’s feet left the ground. “Ah!” she yelped, flailing in the air. Her security guard had her hoisted up like she weighed nothing, carrying her like a football as he barreled toward the door.

 

“Hold on, Miss!” he grunted, muscles straining as he plowed through the entrance. “Coming through!” Employees scrambled out of the way, and the second they were inside, the door slammed shut behind them.

 

He set her down gently, hands steady, but Ariana’s legs wobbled as she stood there, breathless and shaking. “Wh—What just happened?” she stammered, chest heaving. Her head spun. How did things get so out of control? How did they go from cheering Ariana stood there, frozen. Her face flushed, lips parted in shock, but she didn’t lift a finger to cover herself. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, a soft gasp escaping her lips as her eyes darted around. Her dainty feet, with their perfectly manicured toes painted a pale pink, trembled slightly in those 5-inch high heels—heels that were now the only thing she was wearing.

 

Ariana stood there, trembling, completely bare except for those stupid high heels. Her skin was slick with a light sheen of sweat from the struggle, making her look almost shiny under the store lights. She glanced around at the young men watching her—boys, really. Their eyes were wide, faces flushed, practically burning her with how hard they stared.

 

A chill ran down her spine as the reality hit her. They’re going to remember this. Every single one of them was going to store this away—every bare inch of her. The way her breasts bounced when she moved, the soft curves of her thighs, the way her skin glistened. They’d think about her lying in their beds, replaying every humiliating detail of her being stripped, her clothes ripped away, leaving her with nothing.

 

She squeezed her thighs together, wishing she could disappear, but it was too late. The sight of her standing there, arms limp at her sides, breasts out for everyone to see—that was burned into their brains forever. She could almost see it: them sneaking under their blankets at night, hands shaking as they reached down, gripping themselves hard, grunting, pumping, hurting themselves with the memory of her bare body. She saw the way they were looking at her—like they’d just won the lottery.

 

Ariana spun on her security guard, eyes blazing. “Where were you?!” she shouted, voice shrill and breaking. “Look at what they did to me!” Her hands gestured wildly to her bare body, cheeks burning red with rage and humiliation.

 

The guard opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

 

“Do you think you could have gotten to me before they tore all of my clothes off?!” she screeched, stepping closer, face flushed. “I don’t do nudity, and now EVERYONE has seen my breasts!”

 

His eyes darted to the floor, clearly uncomfortable, but she didn’t let up.

 

“Do you know that my ass is insured by Lloyd’s of London?” she practically shrieked, voice trembling with disbelief. “Lloyd’s of freaking London! And you let them tear everything off like it’s a cheap Halloween costume?”

 

The guard’s shoulders sagged, but Ariana wasn’t done.

 

“Let’s be clear,” she hissed, pointing a finger at his chest. “Your job is—WAS—to make sure I don’t end up naked in the middle of LA!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “But guess what?! Here I am—butt naked in front of everyone! Great work!”

 

Ariana sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Her face was still flushed, but she forced her hands to cover as much as they could—one arm crossed over her chest, the other draped awkwardly over her thighs. Slowly, she took a few shaky steps deeper into the store, eyes darting over the clothing racks as if nothing had happened.

 

Pretending not to notice the stunned stares of every single employee, she paused at a rack of dresses, fingers grazing a light blue sundress.

 

“Excuse me?” she called out, voice soft and sweet. Heads turned, and she smiled, ignoring the fact that she was still very much naked. “This is cute. Do you have it in a size 2?”