First five people who line up

Roxy’s smirk widened as she grabbed the swinging ID card between Alexia’s breasts, using it to yank her forward into the murmuring crowd. “Since you love attention so much,” she hissed, “let’s give them a proper show.” With a sharp snap of her fingers, she addressed the encircling spectators. “First five people who line up get a free squeeze—our little Princess’ here needs to learn her place.”

A ripple of laughter and scattered applause rose from the onlookers as hands shot up, eager volunteers jostling for position.

The first volunteer—a broad-shouldered man with a convention lanyard dangling from his neck—stepped forward with a grin that made Alexia’s stomach lurch. His fingers were already outstretched, calloused palms rough as they closed over her bare breasts without hesitation. A whimper escaped her lips as he squeezed hard enough to make her arch, his thumbs grinding against her nipples in slow, deliberate circles.

"Damn, she’s soft," he chuckled, his grip tightening until her skin flushed pink under his touch. The crowd’s murmurs sharpened into laughter as he gave one last cruel twist before stepping back, leaving her trembling.

The second volunteer—a wiry man with a camera slung around his neck—stepped forward eagerly, his fingers twitching with anticipation. Before Alexia could brace herself, his palm cracked sharply across her bare ass, the stinging slap echoing through the convention hall. A gasp tore from her throat as heat bloomed across her skin, the imprint of his hand already darkening. He didn’t stop there—his other hand groped her chest roughly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her breasts as he squeezed hard enough to make her whimper. "Look at that," he jeered, shaking her for the crowd’s amusement, "even her tan lines blush!"

The third volunteer—a woman with sharp nails and a smirk that mirrored Roxy’s—stepped forward, her gaze raking over Alexia’s trembling body. Without warning, she pinched one of Alexia’s nipples between her fingers, twisting just enough to make her gasp. "Pathetic," the woman murmured, dragging her other hand down Alexia’s stomach, nails leaving faint pink lines. "Does the little princess like being groped in front of everyone?"

The woman’s grip tightened, her nails biting into Alexia’s tender flesh as she leaned in, her breath hot against her ear. "Say it," she demanded, twisting Alexia’s nipple sharply. "Tell everyone how much you like being groped like this."

Alexia’s lips trembled, humiliation burning her cheeks as the crowd’s murmurs swelled around her. She could feel Roxy’s smirk boring into her, relishing every second of her struggle.

Alexia’s breath hitched as the woman’s nails dug deeper, her body arching against the cruel grip. The words stuck in her throat, thick with shame, but the crowd’s jeers swelled—they wanted submission. “I-I like it,” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. The woman scoffed, twisting harder until Alexia gasped louder, her knees buckling. “Louder, princess.

“I-I like being groped in front of everyone!” The words tore from her throat, raw and shaky, as the woman finally released her nipple with a sharp flick. The crowd erupted in cheers, phones raised to capture every second of her degradation. The woman’s laugh was razor-edged as she stepped back, leaving Alexia’s nipple throbbing and red.

The fourth volunteer—a lanky man with grease-stained fingers and a hungry glint in his eyes—stepped forward without hesitation. His hands immediately cupped Alexia’s bare ass, kneading the flesh hard enough to make her toes curl against the cold convention center floor. A choked whimper escaped her lips as his fingers dug into the softness, spreading her cheeks just enough for the crowd to see the pink flush of humiliation creeping across her skin.

SMACK!

His palm cracked against her right cheek, the sharp sound cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.

The sharp crack of his palm left her skin stinging, the heat spreading in waves as Alexia bit down on her lip to stifle another whimper. His other hand remained clamped on her ass, fingers pressing into the tender flesh where he’d struck her, as if marking his territory. The crowd’s laughter swelled when he leaned in, his breath hot and reeking of cheap beer as he growled, "Bet that’ll leave a pretty handprint, huh, princess?"

The man’s laughter was a rough scrape against her ears as he delivered another sharp smack—this time to her left cheek—making her stagger forward. Alexia’s thighs trembled, the ache blooming deep as his fingers traced the outline of his own handprint, pressing just enough to draw a ragged gasp from her. "Look at her," he taunted, yanking her back by the hips so the crowd could see the flushed marks, "already twitching for more."

The fifth volunteer—a woman with sleek dark hair and a smirk that sent a shiver down Alexia’s spine—stepped forward. Her fingers trailed along Alexia’s collarbone before gripping her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. The woman leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of Alexia’s ear as she whispered, voice dripping with cruel amusement, "Do you recognize me?"

Alexia’s breath caught—those sharp violet eyes, that mocking tilt of the lips. Mira. Her rival from the debate team, the one who’d humiliated her in front of the entire auditorium last semester. The recognition must have flashed across her face because Mira’s smirk deepened, her manicured nails tightening on Alexia’s chin.

Mira’s fingers trailed down Alexia’s trembling body, nails scraping lightly over her ribs before cupping between her thighs. “Imagine if the whole school could see you like this,” she purred, her thumb circling Alexia’s clit with deliberate slowness. A shudder ripped through Alexia as Mira’s fingers slipped lower, teasing her entrance while the crowd’s murmurs grew louder.

Mira’s fingers pressed deeper, slick with Alexia’s humiliation, her thumb never letting up its cruel rhythm. Alexia’s hips jerked involuntarily, her thighs quivering as Mira leaned in, her breath hot against her ear. “That’s it—let them all see how wet you get,” she taunted, curling two fingers inside her just enough to make Alexia’s knees buckle. The crowd’s cheers blurred into white noise as Mira twisted her wrist, dragging a ragged moan from Alexia’s throat.

Mira’s fingers worked with ruthless precision, her thumb circling Alexia’s clit in tight, unforgiving strokes while her other fingers plunged deeper, curling just enough to make Alexia’s breath hitch. The slick sounds of her own arousal were unmistakable, drowned out only by the hungry murmurs of the crowd pressing closer.

Mira’s fingers pistoned deeper, her thumb pressing hard against Alexia’s clit in a merciless rhythm. Alexia’s back arched as a strangled cry tore from her throat—her thighs shook violently, toes curling against the floor as the pressure coiled unbearably tight. The crowd’s jeers sharpened into gasps when her body seized, a gush of warmth splattering Mira’s wrist and dripping onto the floor between Alexia’s stocking-clad legs.

Mira withdrew her glistening fingers with a slow, deliberate drag, smearing Alexia’s arousal across her trembling lower lip. The metallic click of Roxy’s heels cut through the murmurs as she seized Alexia’s wrist, yanking her forward so abruptly her ID card swung violently between her breasts. “Time to take the show on the road,” Roxy purred, her free hand snagging the back of Alexia’s garter belt to steer her toward the exit.