Commercial Break 2 - Dance Like Everyone's Watching

Pixie gasped, clattering a glass she didn’t even know she was holding against the table and sending it flying. Liquid flew across the surface, spilling off the edge and landing in her lap, soaking into the fabric of her sundress.

The smell of rum hit her nostrils instantly. Someone cheered.

“είναι μεθυσμένη!”

The dizzying and disconcerting thing was that there was no transition. No rush of air or experience of coming to clarity. She was one minute kneeling on the floor of the studio and the next… she was here… wherever and whenever here was…

She was sitting in a booth in a bar. That much was immediately obvious. It was hot, really hot. The air was thick with ****, pounding dance music and sweat. It was dark, but the place was lit in neon and lights strung up around the room. At least the cock was gone from her mouth…

And there was rum soaking into her lap.

“Pix!”

Laura and Emma yelped together, leaping from their seats either side of her to avoid the flood of **** spilling on them too.

“S-s-sorry… I didn’t…” She gulped, putting the empty glass down in the puddle on the table. What could she say?

…Sorry I didn’t know I was holding it because I wasn’t here?

…Sorry I’m stuck in a perverted gameshow of sexual **** and I’m not in control of my own life any more?!

She looked up at her friends helplessly, biting her tongue. Both of them were well tanned… their skin far more bronzed than when she’d last seen them both... it felt like only minutes ago. Looking beyond them she spied the open front of the bar and the beach and sea beyond...

Ok... I’m still in Greece…

“It’s getting on you!” Emma waved her hand frantically, pulling Pixie’s shoulder to the side to coax her out of the booth. As she tried, she turned her head back towards the bar, “Babe…! Jase!... JASON!”

Both Jason and Andy were at the bar mid-order, and turned to look back.

“Pixie spilled her drink! Can you get another rum and coke?”

“And Napkins!” Laura yelled over the music.

Jason nodded and turned away again, while Pixie felt Andy’s gaze linger. She locked eyes with him for a moment. His cock slammed into the back of her throat.

She cried, closing her eyes and turning away at the sudden sensation of having her mouth fucked by him all over again. The blowjob she’d given him for real only happened moments ago for her and to repeat it again almost instantly made her stomach flip. She stumbled in her wedge-heeled sandals as Emma helped her out of the booth.

“Hey, careful… careful!”

Pixie whimpered, painfully aware that she had an audience as the bar was crowded with a mix of tourists and locals, “μεθυσμένη αγγλική σκύλα δεν μπορεί καν να σταθεί όρθια!”

Andy’s cock slipped from her mouth, only for Pixie to feel a hand roughly pawing at her ass. She wheeled around, mortified, feeling the hands caressing her, sliding around her body and toying with her sides, she tried to work out who was looking at her, only for the sensation to stop.

“I… I need to get out of here…” Pixie pleaded, clutching to her friends for support.

“Ok…? OK… bathroom!” Laura wheeled around, and the pair of them guided the helpless girl through the crowd. Pixie walked between them frantically, her eyes on the floor even as she felt another pinch to her ass… a fleeting mouth kissing her neck… a pair of hands squeezing her breasts…

Fuck… fuck… fuck…

The trio poured into the bathroom and Pixie threw herself into a stall, panting hard and **** for privacy. Laura and Emma followed close behind, both girls clutching for toilet paper and starting to help soak up the spilled drink from her dress.

Pixie sunk onto the toilet, trembling. She was stuck in a bar, in Greece. Surrounded by people she didn’t know, drunk, lecherous… anyone that looked at her with lust she’d feel it… every single one…

“I w-w-want to go home…”

Laura scoffed, pausing her frantic drying, “What? It’s our last night! And we only just got here!”

Emma looked up with a reassuring smile, “Don’t be silly! It’s really not that bad ok? And, it’s mad hot in this place so – it’ll probably dry pretty quickly”

“N-no… it’s not… I just...” Pixie groaned, knowing she couldn’t hope to explain her predicament to either of them and dreading what would happen if she tried.

“Do you want to kneel down for a bit, you look flushed…?”

“NO!” Pixie yelped, “I don’t want to kneel down!”

She felt the heat in her face at the look Emma and Laura gave each other before they went back to drying her dress. The three remained silent for several moments even as Pixie found herself looking at Laura and feeling the growing knot of guilt and shame growing in her stomach.

I gave your boyfriend a blowjob! I sucked his cock and I know what his cum tastes like!

“Are you alright?” Emma broke the silence, snapping the brunette from her humiliating imaginary confession.

“Ugh… I… I’m fine…” Pixie whimpered, dropping her head to hide her own shame. She relaxed her back, letting her arms slide behind her and her back arched. It was humiliating doing this, even in front of her friends, but she just needed to relax… her body… just for a moment…

The girls finished their pawing and drying as best they could. The smell lingered, but Pixie was grateful that she didn’t feel so conspicuous any more. Anything that would draw attention to her was bad. Very bad.

“I think that’s as dry as we’re gonna get with these…” Emma sighed, turning her nose up at the wet tissue in her hand.

“Ready to go back?” Laura offered.

Pixie shuddered, she wasn’t. She desperately wasn’t,

“I… I’ll stay here…”

“You want to spend the last night of our holiday… in the toilet?”

“Yeah…” Pixie groaned at how idiotic she sounded.

“Ok – No…” Laura laughed, “Let’s get back to the guys…”

Pixie whimpered, fuck. She couldn’t spend a night sitting opposite Andy… every time he looked at her like that… if his mind wandered, she’d feel it, over and over and over…

“No!” Pixie pleaded, more desperately than she’d intended, her eyes wide as she felt the shocked reactions from both her friends.

“Pix!” Emma scolded in confusion.

“Seriously?” Laura huffed, her face reddening.

“She doesn’t mean it like that” Emma said quickly, giving Pixie a look as though she should know what she meant. Laura blinked, her frustration clearly boiling over.

“If you don’t like my boyfriend just say it!” She snapped.

Pixie slunk back, mortified, her cheeks growing redder and redder. What?!

“It’s not that! I just…” … I don’t want to spend the night with his dick in my mouth!!

Her lips opened and closed uselessly; she couldn’t possibly hope to explain, the whole thing was just one insane nightmare.

“You just…?” Laura waited before she screwed up her nose and exited the stall, “Whatever – I’m going back to my boyfriend”

Emma said nothing and both girls watched Laura go. The door to the bathroom opened out of sight, letting the thumping music in again for a moment before it slammed shut.

There was another beat of awkward silence.

“She was really nervous introducing him to us…” Emma offered, “You might… just… could you make an effort to pretend to like him, just for tonight?”

"May I please service you with my mouth?"

The words echoed inside Pixie’s head, mocking her. She growled, closing her eyes and letting out a little whine. Emma was unwittingly asking her to step into a phantom, unseen, ghostly gang bang… to suck Andy's dick all over again... to save Laura’s feelings…

“It’s really not that… it’s…” Pixie stopped herself again, her cheeks burning pink. She desperately didn’t want to find out what would happen if she tried to tell her friend about the game show… she tried to remember rule 13… something about, revealing her darkest secrets? She gulped uselessly instead, staring into her best friends eyes for a moment as Emma raised an expectant eyebrow, waiting for the end of a sentence that wasn’t going to come...

“I don’t know what’s going on with you tonight, but could you step out…? I need to go…” Emma nodded towards the toilet meaningfully.

“I… uh… oh…” Pixie stammered, awkwardly pulling herself to her feet and tottering unsteadily out of the stall. Emma sheepishly closed the door behind her and Pixie now felt trapped between the closed stall and the bathroom exit. She glanced at her own reflection in the mirrors, standing awkwardly, hugging herself, cheeks flushed pink.

They were mercifully alone, and Pixie whimpered at the sight of herself. Her hair was slightly bedraggled, she couldn’t tell if it was the heat, or her own flushed state. The front of her blue cotton sundress was darkened by the large splash of rum, causing the material to cling to her lap and chest wetly. Worse, the combination of her wet clothes and phantom molestation had caused her nipples to harden, like beacons drawing attention directly to her chest…

The smell of sweetness and **** followed her every step she took.

Timidly, Pixie let one hand drift to between her legs, trying to rub more of the rum stain free with her fingers, while she let her other hand drift up to her chest, finding one of her nipples and trying to pinch or push it, **** for them to calm down.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

The bathroom door slammed open, momentarily filling the room with blaring music again. Pixie froze, straightening herself upright in alarm. She made eye contact with a mousey blonde in a black dress, her hair tinged with violet. Shocked, Pixie squeaked and dropped her hands, painfully aware of what she must look like… standing in the bathroom… touching herself in the mirror… no!

She felt a slender hand wrap around her throat, and another pushing into her chest. Pixie gasped, whimpering as she looked away from the girl, only to feel the hand at her throat tighten its grip and the other slid to her left nipple, where it started to twist and pull, hard and firm.

“Aahh… d-d-don’t…!” Pixie whimpered, frantic, clutching the edge of the sinks for support.

Whenever someone looks at me with lust… or like I’m a slut… of course she thinks I’m a slut…!

“It’s not what it looks like!” she protested frantically, looking back at the girl as she walked by. Pixie’s protest was cut short by another yelp as she felt her nipple twisted, hard, and then tugged again, rhythmically.

Fuck… are you trying to milk me?!

“S-s-stop!” Pixie begged.

The girl just cocked her head, “τι κάνεις?”

“Pix?” Emma’s concerned voice called from the closed stall.

“I’m … fine!” She gasped in reply, pleading with her unknown visitor to hurry up and enter a stall… Just stop looking at me! Please!

Pixie closed her eyes, tears in them as she felt the hand at her throat tighten further, causing her body to spasm at it dropped into instinctive panic of ****, even though she could breathe perfectly fine. While the relentless twisting and pinching of her defenceless nipple continued over and over and over….

“πόρνη...”

She heard a stall door close. The hands disappeared.

Pixie shuddered, gasping for air she didn’t need as she fell back against the sinks. Her back arching in reflex as she relaxed, her hands shooting behind her to their prescribed position as she stifled a sob.

Any pretence she had that she could pretend her life would ever be normal again, was shattered. Why was she trying? Jack… the show… the Jury… they were only sending her back to her life so they could enjoy her suffering, her humiliation… she was here to be humiliated. It wasn’t a respite or a reprieve; it was deliberate ****, entertainment for the unseen horror of her unknown, reality-bending, audience.

Pixie whimpered as she continued to pant for air. Trying to remember the exact wording of the new condition placed on her… what had it said? Any time anyone looked at her lustily or like a slut, she’d feel exactly what they wanted to do to her? And the second part… if she was in a crowd and it got too much… it would switch to eye-contact?

Eye-contact…

Pixie sniffed, staring resolutely at a point on the tile floor, forcing her arms back in front as she exerted herself to stand normally. There was a way out of this, at least a small and devastating one. Surround herself in a crowd, push through a storm of overwhelming sensation... and then avoid eye contact with anyone... would that work? She couldn’t stay in the bathroom all night, the longer she hid here the worse her relationship with Laura would get and the guilt was eating at her already. Plus, she really didn’t want to get choked by the other girl again…

Going back out into the bar meant she risked being molested by some phantom hands and getting fucked by phantom dicks but… but… she just needed to be inconspicuous. She just needed to be plain, to blend in… if no one was looking at her; she wouldn’t feel anything… right?

And then, if it gets too much…

A toilet flushed and Pixie bit her lip as Emma emerged from her stall and started washing her hands, “Everything ok? Who were you talking to?”

“I’m fine… it’s … fine…” Pixie blushed, reaching a hand up to her own throat. She desperately wanted to get out of here before the other girl emerged again.

“So… are we going back to the others?” Emma pressed.

“mmhmm…” Pixie sniffed, suppressing another sob of terror.

Am I really going to do this? Really?!

Pixie tried to reconcile what she was, apparently, willing to do, to save her friendship.

It’s not real. She tried to remind herself of that, repeating it in her head over and over… _no matter how real it feels... no matter how violating it feels… they’re not actually touching me… right? … right?

Emma sighed, “Ok… just… be nice? Andy’s a good guy, and Laura’s really happy… I don’t want this to get awkward”

Andy’s a good guy. NO, no he isn’t… he cheated on Laura… with… me… he used my mouth and I can’t say anything to any of you without ruining my reputation and making you all hate me just as much as I hate him so…

Pixie bit her tongue, “I… I’ll be nice…”

She heard the other toilet flush.

“Let’s go back…”

Emma led the way, and Pixie followed gratefully behind, her heart racing as they stepped back out of the relative safety of the bathroom and back into the dark bar itself. They were quickly engulfed in the hot throngs of the dancing crowd and Pixie tried to stick closely behind her friend, using her as a shield from prying eyes though she was constantly and painfully on edge. Waiting for the sensation of the first hand reaching out to touch her was ****… the first pinch or slap or stroke… the first cock to push unwantedly into her body…

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it…

Over Emma’s shoulder, Pixie was confused to see that only Jason was sitting at their table, an assortment of their drinks in front of him and he gave them a warm smile as they both arrived back at the booth.

“They went to dance” He answered their unspoken question before taking a sip of his drink and nodding into the crowd.

Pixie slid in first, grateful for the shelter of her friends sitting either side. Trembling with anxious energy and shocked that she’d been able to make it all the way back without feeling anything.

Her relief was short lived though, as she only now realised that, in the darkened bar, their booth was lit from above… she might as well be on a little stage right next to the dance floor…

Oh.

Pixie let out an audible moan when she felt a dick glide between her lips. Salty. Firm. Familiar.

Andy

She hated that she recognised it, but she did. He was looking at her from somewhere in the crowd. The girl squirmed in her seat, trying to calm her panicking heart as she felt it move back and then push forward again, easing itself between her lips as it started to move back and forth… back and forth… back and…

It stopped.

Pixie shuddered. Why had it-

She felt it again, and the realisation hit her. Every time he lost sight of her through the crowd, the curse would lift, the connection severed… and then when he looked at her again it would come back… over and over…

What horrified Pixie more though was that, a moment after Andy’s dick had returned to her mouth, she felt another one pushing its way between her legs.

No! No! No!

The whimpered, picking up her drink with both hands and clutching it desperately to her chest, bringing the glass to her lips and biting the edge of it to stifle her own cry of unwanted pleasure. Someone in the bar was looking at her and imagining fucking her… and she was feeling it.

The cock between her legs plunged into her pussy in a single, firm, deep stroke. Pixie shuddered, wriggling in her seat as her hips bucked in response, her thighs squeezing shut around an intruder that wasn’t really there. Her stomach muscles rippled and her back arched as she panted, snorting through her nose as she tried to control her breathing.

Andy’s cock in her mouth started up its rhythmic pumping again, as the cock in her pussy started to thrust in and out of her too. The two out of sync, out of time, which seemed to only make the sensation even worse. She looked up from her drink, her eyes frantically scanning the bar as she tried to work out who was doing this to her. Who was looking… watching… making her feel these things…

Cheeks reddening, Pixie mewled, trying not to let the double fucking that she was receiving show. But it was hopeless. She was being fucked, right here… in a bar… sat between Emma and Jason… and she had to pretend everything was fine.

Shit… shit… shit

Emma’s voice from her left cut through the white hot noise that was filling her mind, “You wanna dance too babe?”

“Sure!”

Pixie moaned into her drink again, trying to take a sip even as her body struggled to process the conflicting sensations of both sucking a dick and trying to drink from a single mouth. She was too busy concentrating on trying to swallow that her mind had to release its concentration on other things and she involuntarily relaxed her back into its new mortifying sexual arch.

The seat of the booth shifted as Emma and Jason’s weight moved away from her, but Pixie could only sit in a **** haze, as the two cocks continued to pump in and out of her needy, helpless body.

“You wanna dance Pix?”

Stop… stop looking at me… please…

She felt defenceless now, helpless. She couldn’t imagine trying to move but she had to. She had to hide in the crowd. A stranger was fucking her pussy, while her best friend’s boyfriend used her mouth, and no one could tell… She made eye contact with Emma and moaned into her drink, making it bubble around her lips.

She nodded.

The crowd. Pixie snorted for air again as the dick in her pussy sped up, causing her body to jolt in response. Her mind was working in overdrive, confused signals crashing into each other – she was both being fucked in her mouth and her pussy at the same time… and she wasn’t. It wasn’t like she had two of each, and she was feeling both, it was like the signals from her body were being drowned in extra, false information. It was like trying to listen to two songs at the same time – only it was pure sensation.

With a gasp Pixie gulped down another mouthful of her drink, the sickly sweet **** and carbonated fizz of the soda flooding her already overloaded mind with a wash of dizziness. Pixie didn’t drink all the much, not ever, but she felt she needed something… anything… to cope with the insanity of what was happening to her.

I’m being fucked by a stranger in a crowded bar…

She blinked, only now realising she’d been staring at Emma with parted lips, her cheeks bright pink, and her hips rocking in invisible rhythm where she was sitting. Andy’s cock eased into the back of her throat.

Pixie moaned.

HIDE.

Now anxious, frantic. She knew she needed to get into the crowd. Disappear into the crowd… just hide… just survive!

Pulling herself unsteadily from the booth, Pixie stumbled in her heels, her body on edge. The humiliation, **** and unwanted pleasure washed through her system, overloading her every sense. She felt hot, too hot, and her body was trembling, shuddering with the phantom feelings. She should not have been able to walk while being fucked like this, the position, the angle… it was all impossible, and yet she could… if she concentrated… as long as she didn’t forget what was real and what was imaginary…

Emma and Jason moved onto the dancefloor and Pixie stumbled after them, trying to disappear into the shelter of crowd. She moaned, gasping in relief as she felt the phantom cock between her legs slip out of her, and then Andy’s popped free a moment later.

Pixie stood, awkwardly still in the middle of the dancefloor, clutching at herself, and whimpering. Her cheeks pink, her breathing ragged. Her thighs splayed and feet turned inwards, toes curling, eyes closed as she tried frantically to compose herself. Her body was aflame, and her pussy was aching, needily, ****…

Oh god… breathe… breathe…

She just needed to calm down… she just needed a moment to…

A hand snaked across her ass, pawing at it with a firm grope. Pixie yelped, wheeling around and clutching at her ass in instinctive protectiveness. There was no hand, but her erratic movement drew attention, causing those around her to look at her.

Oh no…

The safety Pixie had felt lost in the sea of the un-watching crowd, turned. She was drawing attention, attention was bad…

Panicked, Pixie slipped further into the crowd, unable to focus on anyone or anything around her. Emma and Jason were lost to the sea of people as she disappeared deeper and deeper.

She cried as she felt a cock slide back into her pussy, its thrusts were immediate, hard, frantic, and the brunette stumbled forward in alarm. She knocked into the back of someone else in the crowd, a tanned blonde that spun around and screwed up her nose disdainfully. Pixie felt a hand slap her across the face, hard, sudden. The shock of it still caused her head to jolt to the right, her hands coming up to clutch at her cheek defensively.

She yelped, which drew more attention. The cock between her legs was, disturbingly, joined by another and Pixie found herself stretching her legs, lifting herself even higher onto her toes than her heels already did, frantically trying to stay upright.

Her pussy was telling her she was being used… that there was a dick pounding in and out of her… but it was also telling her that there was a dick slowly stroking around her entrance, and ploughing into her in deep, slow thrusts too… and it was empty…untouched… each signal bounced into the other, combined with the other and her brain struggled to process reality through the noise.

No… no… no!

The crowd had started to part from her, it was only slight, but everyone was glancing… looking… giving the crazy panting girl more and more space…

More and more attention…

“Pp-please… no!” Pixie whimpered anxiously, spinning on the spot as the cocks thrusting into her made her hips buck, her knees week. Another hand spanked her ass… then again… and again… She was going to cum… oh fuck… oh fuck… not here… please no… stop it… stop looking at me!

Ghostly hands found her hips, holding her firmly. Another pair snaked to her breasts, stroking her nipples. Then a mouth joined them, both of them, how many mouths… two? Three? Pixie shuddered, her eyes closing as she tried to fight the sensations.

She felt breath on the back of her neck, then someone lightly nibbled her ear… another pulled her hair…

Where was Emma… Jason… her friends…?

She was lost now, drowning in sensation…

She was being kissed by two mouths… groped by dozens of hands… a cock slipped between her lips… and then another… and another… another entered her ass, and Pixie cried out. Frantically trying to keep herself upright. All she could hear was her own breathing, her own heartbeat… fingers found her clit, rubbing… stroking… licking… fucking…

I can’t breathe…

She came, gasping, shuddering as her pussy spasmed, clenching around multiple phantom dicks that weren’t there. She was full and empty; being held and left unsupported at the same time... she couldn’t handle it.

Pixie moaned, her body bucking as she stumbled blindly forwards, back arched, head tipped back like someone was tugging on her hair and fucking her roughly from behind. The dicks and touches didn’t stop, only growing more and more relentless…

Please… please I can’t… I can’t… It's not real... it's not real...!

She whimpered, stumbling and collapsing to her knees in the middle of the dancefloor, her body quivering in aftershocks from the orgasm she didn’t want. Her every orifice filled, her ass clenching around a cock that wasn’t there…

Pixie mewled, gasping for air as she opened her eyes, looking up pleadingly at the faces of the crowd around her. It was too much… too much…

The noise, the heat… the sensations continued to crash into each other until… her mind saw white. The signals overwhelmed, her body, unable to cope with the cacophony of it all just… stopped… Instantly, she felt empty. The hands and mouths, fingers, cocks, tongues… they all retreated and Pixie was left kneeling on the floor a whimpering, panting, mess…

If it gets too much…

She looked around herself. The crowd had parted to form a little ring around her, it was tight, she was still sheltered from the view of most of the bar… from her friends… oh god…

“Είναι άρρωστη?”

Pixie opened her mouth to speak, to plead… she needed to stand up but… she couldn’t… not until…

“Please, may I service you with my mouth?!” The words burst from her lips before she could even think and Pixie screamed internally, staring up at the first man she could see. Their eyes met and he gave her a curious look, his grin widening.

Pixie felt hands on her tits and his mouth on hers.

Oh fuck…

He couldn’t understand her… though, she guessed her submissive pose, and the fact that she was holding her mouth open with her tongue lolled out didn’t need much translating.

Stand up! Stand up! Stand up!

Pixie’s already racing heart felt like it might explode. She was trapped. On her knees in a post orgasming haze. Her body, overwhelmed by an **** of sensation had shut down to just feeling what any man she looked into the eyes of wanted her to feel.

Worse, she had to offer her mouth to each of them… she couldn’t stand up until she’d offered her mouth to every man she was in the presence of… did that mean every man in the bar?!

She glanced left, there was guy dancing with a girl. The girl gave her a dirty look and Pixie felt a short, sharp slap to her ass as their eyes met. She snapped her vision to the guy, instantly his dick slipped into her pussy and she shuddered on her knees, her mind reeling, horrified by the sudden impossibly humiliating knowledge that she could, if someone fantasised about it while using her mouth… feel someone’s dick for real at one end, and as a ghost at the other...

“Please may I service you with my mouth?”

“Fucking Skank!” The girl yelled over the music and Pixie recoiled realising they were tourists like her… they could understand her. Her tongue lolled out as she stared at the guy, eyes wide, pleading with him to say no.

“Yeah… nah…” He said, holding the girl more protectively, “You’re a freaky bitch!”

Pixie turned, his cock slipping from her aching sex even as her eyes caught another man in the crowd, “Please may I service you with my mouth?!”

He sneered down at her, and she felt hands roughly fumbling with her breasts, pawing at them, groping them hard.

“Θέλεις να γαμηθείς?”

God make it stop! Make it stop!

Pixie felt hands under armpits, someone was grabbing her roughly, man-handling her to her feet. She could smell strong, deep, aftershave.

“βγες έξω! τώρα!”

“huah?”

She whimpered, a sense of vertigo washing over her as she was pulled to her feet for real. Moaning, grateful that the compulsion was broken and she glanced back to see a guy in a polo shirt with a towel over his shoulder scowling at her. It was immediately obvious that he worked here… a barman? The owner? Pixie didn’t know, she didn’t care… she was just grateful that he was wrestling her out of the situation… moving her…

“δεν υπηρετούμε ιερόδουλες!” He yelled at her angrily.

“I’m sorry… I don’t…” Pixie moaned weakly, gasping in confusion and humiliation as the crowd parted for them.

She stumbled where he guided her, letting him take her to the front of the bar where he unceremoniously pushed her outside. Her cork soled heels clacked on the rough, sandy concrete path for a moment before she floundered forwards.

Pixie fell, expecting to land on her knees on the sand of the beach itself... only to land with a peep on a soft cushion... to blaring music... lights... applause...

NO!