No Spitting Allowed

Cindy shook on the spot. She was leaning up against the relative cold offered by the brick wall of the alleyway, partially secluded behind a dumpster that stood up against the same surface, somewhat out of sight. Looking down at herself, and the smear of cum that glazed significant portions of her burgundy hoodie to darker spots, she did the best she could to focus. To gather herself, to not focus on the taste of cum that lingered on her tongue even now, to not think about how she'd accidentally spat cum on a stranger and ran away from the scene of the spitjaculation. The cum had to be someone's, too, right? The thought sent shiver racing down her spine, accompanied by accenting feelings of unease. Looking down at her phone in horror, which displayed the hot pink user interface, with the ticking timer held up by the miniature-Cindy that smiled with her face full of cum, she went for - what she at least figured would be the kindest option. The other two would make things spiral out of control even more. At least this one, she'd be able to conceal to some degree. Or at least, so she told herself, to sustain the feeling of control she desperately felt like she needed right now.

[No Spitting Allowed Selected!]

Fine. She felt fine. Nothing felt different, as it happened - and because a voice inside her head told her to, she had to, and she promptly tried to swirl up some spittle in her mouth, before spitting it on the ground before her. Not a problem. Which meant that either the name was misleading, or it was very tied to the previous punishment she'd gotten. Which was fine. She'd just have to not lie. That, of course, didn't mean she had to speak the truth about everything, just that she couldn't say untruths. Right? She wetted her still-salty lips and grimaced, before peering back out of the alley. She'd have to get home, so she could change into some clean clothes, and most importantly, brush her teeth. She didn't really have anything on her, so - using the remains of a half-empty can of probably very old beer that poked out of the dumpster next to her, she did her best to conceal the telltale aroma of fresh ballbatter, with the also very familiar stench of old beer.

She'd rather have people think of her as an alcoholic than a slut.

Cindy sat on the bus with her gaze tilted downward not long after. It was a tortorously slow ride, and she felt like everyone was staring at her. Judging her. She could feel their looks drill into the back of her skull. She noted the guy in front of her flicking his gaze towards her when he thought she wasn't looking. She saw the woman on the other side of the bus not even remotely try to hide her judgement of the woman who smelled like booze on an early morning. Cindy felt about as miserable as she ever had. Humiliated, judged, and so thoroughly embarrassed that she'd genuinely accept her fate if she simply fell through the floor of the bus, and the asphalt underneath, this very moment.

Which, of course, was the best moment imaginable for the app to chime in with a notification.

A fellow user of this app has been located near you! For the next 30 minutes, punishments from failed games will affect them instead of you, and rewards are doubled!

Warning: Interacting with them outside of the app within this period will inflict a random punishment on both parties.

[Time remaining: 29:56]...

Cindy felt like she choked for a second. She looked around herself on the bus, looking for someone else, someone like - someone like her. Her mouth parted, and she drew a deep, sudden breath of bus-air with a faint aroma of beer that still clung to her. She sat near the front of the bus, but made an effort to look around - to see if she could see someone else, maybe someone looking as perplexed as her. If she got lucky, they could find one another, and maybe form some kind of - some kind of plan, once the timer expired. Right? It was like one of those prison dilemma things she'd read about. A situation in which they both win if they don't do anything. If one plays the game they can remove a punishment, or face none of the consequences by offloading them upon someone else. So, Cindy sat with a relative unease - leaning back in her seat, taking slow, deep breaths through what felt like a heavy chest. With a bit of luck, everything would be fine, and she'd get off the bus without issue - maybe even one ally richer...