Fetch Me A Drink

"Take off your clothes," Blaze ordered. "I want you to walk naked back into the bar. Ask the woman tending it for a Blood Moon. Carry it back to me. And if anyone touches you..." The dickgirl smiled, her now-hard cock swaying gently. "...you let them. Just don't spill the drink."

Lois blanched a little. Her nose twitched. She didn't like the sound of any of that...not that it would be hard, just embarrassing. Mentally, she was already taking off what remained of her clothes, but she needed to offer at least a token resistance.

"Is that supposed to show I can follow instructions too?" she asked.

"It shows me that you're confident in your body. That you won't pussy out the first time a customer sees you naked." Angelica licked her lips. "Plus, I'm thirsty."

I'm not addicted, Lois told herself as she stripped off. Folded her clothes, heels next to the pants, shirt and jacket placed in a neat pile by the desk. Felt the jizz running down her leg. Blaze was on the couch, stroking gently to keep her cock hard. I just need to get inside her operation, get in touch with the women, then I can get out. The nose candy is a bonus. A necessary bonus.

The reporter turned so she couldn't see Blaze, though she could feel her eyes on her. Out the door. Into the darkness, the noise. The waiting eyes.

Nudity at home felt natural. It was only when you were around other people, all clothed, that you feel weird and self-conscious about it. Lois could feel that now, cheeks burning, nipples hardening. The coke made everything seem brighter, louder. Her attention was supernaturally sharp, a jittery energy moving through her body, making her want to move too fast, but she didn't want to attract too much attention. It took everything she had to not cover herself with her hands, to just walk forward, eyes straight ahead.

Eyes...people watching her. Women, mostly. Dickgirls. A couple whistles, but mostly just stopped conversations, craning necks. Lois walked around to the front of the bar, people made a space. Lois leaned across it to shout into the bartender's ear, the jaded woman with the black tape X's over her nipples looking like she had seen it all before.

"Blood Moon!" Lois said. The woman nodded, tiredly.

A shotglass. A blue silicone cup...Lois recognized that, though she had never used one. It was meant for periods, pinch the top and insert it into your vagina, let it open. Less wasteful than a tampon or a pad. The reporter swallowed as she saw the bartender pour in a shot of vodka, tomato juice, spices...

A hand slid onto the reporter's ass. Lois remembered Angelica's instructions and ignored it, letting the unfamiliar groper get a good feel. Emboldened, the hand slipped down...and then pulled back quickly, the asshole cursing as they shook fresh dickgirl jizz off their fingers. The reporter didn't smirk. Served the bastard right.

Carefully, the bartender lifted the blue cup, which was only about half-full, out of the shot glass and handed it to Lois.

"Pinch the top," she shouted above the crowd. "And open your lips."

Lois nodded. This was the part she didn't expect. The show she had never intended, and might never have agreed to if she did. But she had come this far. Crouching down, legs spread, the reporter slid her fingers down to her labia. Spread her pussy open with her left hand, feeling the jizz inside of her drip down. Pinch the cup with the other hand, reach down and...

People were watching her insert the moon cup in her pussy. Her face was burning, her nipples hard. There were people crouching down so they could see everything, see up into her. Smartphone cameras flashed. The little soft silicone squeezed inside of her, released, blossomed. An unfamiliar feeling, but invisible once it was inside.

There was a smattering of applause, cheers, eager orders to the bartender, people asking if they could try it...

She stood up, nearly shaking and sick, wondering if that was the cocaine or just the aftereffects of having done that in a crowded bar. Lois felt like she could die, or maybe a part of her already had.

The worst part...the absolute worst part...was that the buzz was fading, the darkness closing in, and Lois wished she could feel as confident and brimming with energy as she had a few minutes ago. She wanted more cocaine.

The reporter carried the drink back to Angelica Blaze, wondering what else she would have to do to get one more taste.