That Evening...

A few hours after your reunion with Bill, you're standing on the main deck of the S.S. Anne, crowds of people all around you drinking and partying as loud dance music pumps around the cruise liner, probably able to be heard by most of Vermillion City's population. I guess Bill's idea got me on board... you think to yourself. He was right that I wouldn't like it, though...

You look down at yourself; you're dressed in what can only be described as a slutty, two-piece version of a maid outfit, with a top that exposed a lot of cleavage and your entire midriff, and a ridiculously short skirt that barely covered your ass. Your only option to gain access to the ship had been to join the party's 'service team', girls that were essentially glorified prostitutes for the guests, and a big reason why so many people wanted to attend this party in the first place. The patrons can't outright fuck you without your permission, but they can touch your body however they please, and demand pretty much anything else from you and you'll be **** to obey.

There are male members of this team as well, whose attires don't bother with the pretence of being non-sexual in nature, dressed as they are in skimpy speedos like the trainers in the Cerulean Gym. They're predominantly meant to offer pleasure to female guests, an uncharacteristic statement of 'equality' from a party so linked with the pokemon training community , but you have a sneaking suspicion they're also why Bill had been so eager to come here with Celio. Every member of this team that you'd seen, male or female, was ridiculously attractive, to the point that you're a little surprised you were accepted for the job so easily.

How did it come to this? you wonder as you look around the scene, noticing another maid with a drunk man's hand down her skirt. When Bill had told you about this job and its potential to get you aboard the boat and with a chance of challenging Surge, you had, naturally, been disgusted by the idea. This was exactly the kind of thing you started your pokemon journey to fight against, and putting yourself in this position willingly would be ridiculously degrading. However, when you'd thought it through a little more, you'd somehow talked yourself into it; you were **** to get this gym badge and didn't really have any other options, and besides, you'd already been exposed, humiliated, and made to look like a slut on national TV by the Cerulean Sisters; at least this party wouldn't be recorded as far as you know.

Now, however, you're starting to revert back to your initial way of thinking; this is ridiculously embarrassing and nerve-racking, and you're considering making a run for it before anyone can take advantage of you. Your eyes scan around the deck for Lieutenant Surge, remembering his imposing figure from TV matches and interviews you've seen. If you can just find the Gym Leader, you can challenge him, hopefully win, and make your escape; you're pretty sure you can get Bill and Celio to make up some excuse for your disappearance.

You think you might have laid eyes on the former military man, but suddenly your view is blocked by a dark-haired, slightly overweight man in a suit standing directly in front of you; one of the wealthy businessman-looking types you'd seen being allowed aboard the ship earlier. "Hello, gorgeous," he says, and you note that his breath stinks of ****. Oh fuck no... you think to yourself, but you know you can't do anything about this.

The man lightly shoves you against one of the ship's railings, and leans in to forcefully kiss you on the lips. You can do nothing but let him invade your mouth with his tongue, tasting the liquor on him as he starts to clumsily grope your breasts through the thin fabric of your maid outfit. He breaks the kiss and pulls the useless top down along with your bra, exposing your ample tits to the cool evening air, your nipples stiffening in the sea breeze. If any of the other party attendees notice your half-naked state they don't acknowledge it; while most guests take the service team members into their cabins to commit more explicit sexual acts, this kind of public exposure is still nothing out of the ordinary for these events.

The man hungrily takes your right breast into his mouth, sucking and licking at your sensitive nipple while his hand goes back to roughly groping your other tit. You hold yourself back from letting out a humiliating moan, not wanting to accept that his clumsy molestation of your boobs is turning you on. Your resistance takes a hit, however, when he puts his other hand up your skirt, and brushes his fingers against your clit through your pink panties. "Ooh.." you whimper quietly, trying your hardest to suppress the degrading, involuntary noise. The man hears it, however, and his eyes light up as he continues to attack your nipple with his tongue.

He starts to rub his fingers against your pussy while continuing his **** on your breasts, the soft fabric of your panties doing little to protect your slit from his surprisingly skilful teasing. His **** state is seemingly not hindering his ability to make you feel frustratingly good embarrassingly quickly. You can feel your cunt getting wet as the man continues his three-pronged attack on your erogenous zones, juices starting to leak through your underwear and onto his hand as he continues to tease you. You wish this wasn't happening, you wish you were anywhere else, but the same depraved part of your brain that was somehow turned on by sucking off Bruno at the sex show wants this guy to hurry up and push your panties aside, to shove his fingers inside your needy pussy as soon as possible.

"Feeling good?" asks the man, taking your tit out of his mouth and looking up at your flushed face while his hands continue to rub at your sensitive areas.

"N-nooooo~!" Your lie is cut off by him brushing his digits over your clit again, forcing a pathetic elevation in your voice's pitch mid-word.

The man laughs cruelly. "Well, that's ok. You're here to serve me, anyway, not the other way around." With that, he suddenly retracts his hands, leaving your wet snatch and rock-hard nipples with no stimulation.

"B-but..." you whimper, before stopping yourself, realising how pathetic that sounds. Why do I turn into such an idiot every time this stuff happens to me? Hell, why does this stuff happen to me so much in the first place? You know why deep-down, of course; both this party and the Sextravaganza are things you've walked into willingly, albeit with the potential reward of a gym badge as an incentive. Before Cerulean, all of the sexual situations you'd found yourself in had genuinely not been of your making, but now... Stop thinking like this! you tell yourself, as your molester starts to unzip his pants, revealing a seven-inch cock, already fully erect.

"Start doing your job," he says, "and suck me off."

Ugh... this again... You begrudgingly sink down to your knees in front of him, a position that is starting to become uncomfortably regular for you. You figure this comes into the category of 'not directly fucking you', so you have **** but obey him under the conditions of your degrading job description. You take his member into your mouth and begin to bob your head up and down while sucking it. "Mmm..." he moans, the feel of your lips on his penis clearly having an immediate pleasant effect. You start to run your tongue along his shaft as you work, feeling a little ashamed at the fact that you could probably be considered reasonably skilled at this by now.

The partygoers on the deck pay no attention to you, a half-naked girl giving someone head clearly just yet another normal occurrence on this ship. The man places his hand on your head, guiding you up and down his shaft as precum starts to leak from the tip of his dick, filling your mouth with a salty taste that's depressingly familiar. It doesn't take long at all before his dick is twitching in your mouth, the man clearly ready to explode.

"Gonna cum..." he announces through ragged breaths. "Swallow it all, bitch!" He lets out another moan and unleashes his thick, sticky cum into your mouth. He holds your head in place as he unleashes his load, forcing you to keep his cock in your mouth as it shoots out multiple ropes of semen.

While this is happening, someone walks up to you, and you look up to see a tall, well-built blonde man in a green jacket, smirking down at you and blatantly staring at your tits as the other man shoots his cum into your mouth. He turns on his heel and continues walking past you, but there's no mistaking who that is. It's Lieutenant Surge, the man you'd come here to find in the first place...