Chapter Twelve: Frisky Friday
The sound of Krista banging on her door roused Vixy from her slumber. She rubbed at her tired eyes, her head foggy from the drinking, the heat of the previous day, and the long, passionate lesbian threesome she’d endured. Her head, though, did feel clearer than the day before. Vixy bumbled out of the bed and answered the door, fully nude and coated in sweaty grime, her hair a disheveled mess and face caked in dried girl cum.
“Jesus!” Krista exclaimed, as she opened the door and the photographer took in the state of her. She snapped a picture and Vixy flushed, “You should get cleaned up. We don’t wanna waste the day!”
“What are we doing?” Vixy asked, letting Krista in.
“It’s gonna be great!” Krista said, which made Vixy’s heart sink.
Frisky Friday. She had the feeling that it was not, in fact, going to be great.
Krista continued, “It’s Frisky Friday. Get in the shower and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Vixy nodded, starting the shower and getting in immediately, the cold spray washing away the sleep fog.
“You’ve got a poll running,” Krista explained, seating herself on the vanity and tapping at her phone, “You know, not all of the ladies here are lesbians. A lot of them are bi. When we get down to the lobby, we’ll each pick up a little choker. A pink one means that you’re only available to other women. A green one means you’re bi, and that you’re open to use by the male staff, as well. A black one means you’re not participating. If someone propositions you, they can request to masturbate you, or have you masturbate them. The poll on which choker you’ll wear today is running now. We should have the results in a few minutes.”
“What!” Vixy cried, poking her head from behind the curtain, “I don’t get to choose whether I participate?”
Krista looked at her strangely, as though the question were a stupid one, and said, “Of course not, Vixy. The sponsors want to ensure that this campaign showcases all the resort has to offer, so you’re participating, whether you want to or not. Of course, the way you went to town on those two girls last night, I can already tell that you’re just a closeted slut waiting to get loose.”
“But, I didn’t… I’m not -” Vixy began to protest.
Good girls don’t complain. Good girls are good toys. Good girls are for pleasure. Vivianne is a bad girl…
“Okay,“ she said, unsure why the thought of being freely available for use as a masturbation aid by the other guests was already making her wet and ashamed.
Vixy toweled off and pulled on one of her bikini bottoms. She couldn’t believe that she was going to have to walk around bare-titted again all day, but that was what the sponsors wanted. Maximizer wanted the results of their product on display for the world.
“Oh, man!” Krista said, as Vixy popped one of the AphroDitzy supplements for the sponsor.
“What?” Vixy asked, already sure of what the followers had chosen.
“You’re getting a green choker,” Krista said.
Vixy’s heart sank. She was available to anyone, male or female. Her phone rang. She took Melissa’s call.
“Morning, Vixy! Great work on the judging yesterday,” Melissa said, “You were a really good girl,” the words gave Vixy her first orgasm of the day, causing her to moan into the phone as her legs shook and Krista giggled, “Today is going to be a bit of a challenge, I know, but I’m sure you’re up to it. You’re not going to complain about it, right?”
Good girls don’t complain. Good girls don’t say no. Good girls are good toys.
“No,” Vixy said, shamefully touching her wet cunt, “I want to do good for the sponsors.”
“Good to hear,” Melissa said, “The followers and sponsors were really pleased with the way you seduced those two lesbians last night, and the resort is already getting a ton of bookings for the next ladies week! We’re having a professional studio edit Krista’s footage as we speak, so that we can release a full video of your weekend’s exploits after your trip. Isn’t that great!”
Vixy did not feel that it was great, nor did she recall having seduced any lesbians. Her memories of the evening involved her being forced to degrade herself in front of a throng of screaming hotel guests, before she was raped by two vulgar women. The fact that iFem was going to sell copies of her being molested and reluctantly orgasming in a lesbian threesome was sickening, but also shamefully arousing. Vixy, silently, convinced herself that it was going to get better.
Good girls are sluts. Good girls are always ashamed. Good girls want to cum. Good girls are aroused by their shame. Good girls show the world how good they are. Vixy is a good girl…
“Now, your followers have decided to make the whole thing a bit more interesting, so here’s the deal. The resort doesn’t allow anything that isn’t consensual. Rape and molestation are against the law, of course. Therefore, nobody can force you to participate. However, we’re going to give you some incentives. If someone makes a request to masturbate you, or have you masturbate them, you can turn it down. If you accept, no foul. If you turn it down, though, you’ll be given a directive to follow for the rest of the day. The followers submitted an extensive list of suggestions, from which we’ll pick one at random. You are contractually obligated to comply with the directive.”
This did not sound particularly “interesting” to VixyViv. It sounded more like a further dose of humiliation.
“What kind of directives?” she asked.
“Those are a surprise,” Melissa said, “but we removed the more extreme ones. Can you believe that more than one person suggested having your cunt sewn shut? Permanently?”
“No!” Vixy cried, terrified. She’d rather be a broke loser in debt to a mega-corporation than go through something like that.
“Calm down, Vixy,” Melissa said, “I told you. We removed anything that will scar, disfigure, maim, or otherwise cause you permanent harm. Nobody wants to see you get hurt. iFem loves its influencers more than anything, and we protect our property. Getting your start in this business is always a little embarrassing. After all, the new influencers get stuck with the sponsorships that the senior ones are too in-demand to want to take. When you’re on the level of MaximumMike or Tara Trendz, you’ll be looking back on this with a laugh.”
This made Vixy feel slightly better. She did admire MaximumMike and Tara Trendz. They were always posting about their exploits in foreign capitals, and they never had to do humiliating sponsorships. They got to promote Chanel bags and celebrity fitness apparel. She supposed that she just had to pay her dues, being on the bottom rung of the ladder. It could only get better from here. Still, the thought of getting stuck performing some random person’s humiliating task was scary and embarrassing, and it was making her pussy wet. Why was it making her pussy wet? Why was her whole body getting hot again, just like yesterday? Was she a closeted slut, like Krista had suggested? Had Melissa just called her property? It was so hard to think straight.
“I…” Vixy tried to get the words out, to say that she did not want to go about her day being molested and humiliated by strangers, but she couldn’t make the words come out. It was as if a mental block prevented her from saying them.
Good girls don’t say no. Good girls love to provide pleasure. Good girls are ashamed of their wet cunt. Good girls crave humiliation. Good girls admit their shame. Vixy loves being a good girl…
“Yes?” Melissa prompted.
“I… I… I’m wet,” Vixy said and then clapped her hand over her mouth in horror.
Melissa laughed and said, “Wow! Um, thanks, I guess. We’ll update your status with that.”
A moment later, Vixy shuddered as her Twitter status changed to, “I’m so wet at the thought of Frisky Friday!”
“Just focus on being your best, okay? Krista will keep you on track with your other activities for the day,” Melissa said and hung up.
“Other activities?” Vixy asked as she put her phone into the wristlet.
“Yeah. You can only take so much drinking and sitting on a beach, and besides, we have other sponsors to take care of. We’ll be going off the resort to visit a few local shops that have bought sponsor time. We’re also going sailing!”
Vixy brightened. That didn’t sound so bad. Shopping couldn’t be terrible and the thought of her first trip on a sailboat was exciting. Promoting a sailing excursion certainly sounded like something a real influencer would do.
“Are you ready to get started?” Krista asked.
Vixy nodded and asked, “Does that mean I get to put on a top?”
Krista shook her head, “No way! The town around here benefits from having the resort, so local laws about going around topless are pretty lax.”
Vixy sighed, her hopes dashed.
Krista led them to the elevator, which was blessedly free of coupling lesbians. In the lobby, they made their way to a table, where a bubbly redhead provided each of them with a choker. Krista’s was black. Vixy accepted the green and then hesitantly buckled it around her neck. She thought it looked more like a dog collar than a choker. It even had a little tag in the shape of a heart dangling from it. She felt ridiculous being in public with giant whore tits and wearing a dog collar. Before they’d even made it to the front doors, Vixy was stopped by a statuesque blonde, who was topless and grinning like she’d just won the lottery.
“Oh, my God! Look at the size of those!” she said, pointedly staring at Vixy’s tits, “Wanna have a little fun? I’d love to make those babies jiggle while you cum.”
The woman quickly invaded Vixy’s personal space, causing Vixy to take a step back in surprise.
“I…” she stammered, “Maybe later?”
The blonde rolled her eyes and looked angry, saying, “Fucking tease,” as she turned and stalked away.
Vixy watched her approach another woman and a moment later they were entangled in a passionate kiss, as the blonde stuffed her fingers into the other woman’s wet pussy.
“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Krista said, letting her camera hang loose around her neck, “Let’s see what your first directive is.”
Vixy flushed. She’d already forgotten about the stupid directives. It was just instinct to decline a random stranger’s offer to masturbate her in public. Krista stared at her phone, apparently waiting for some direction from Melissa. A moment later, it came. The girl laughed.
“For the rest of the day,” she said, “each time you’re propositioned, you’ll need to request that they spank you, regardless of whether you’ve turned them down.”
Vixy blushed. It was embarrassing, but she supposed it wouldn’t be too bad. How many people were, really, going to proposition her throughout the day? People had more common decency than that! They exited the lobby, where a few taxi drivers waited for business. Krista approached one and began speaking to him in Spanish. While they talked, Vixy fidgeted nervously. She squeaked in surprise when a staff member wearing a man thong tapped her on the shoulder.
“Happy Frisky Friday, ma’am!” he said, “Would you be so kind?” he gestured to his prominent bulge.
Vixy paled. Already a second proposition. From a man. She glanced about nervously and Krista caught her eye. The photographer took up her camera, waiting, while the taxi driver tapped his foot impatiently.
“I’m in a hurry,” Vixy stammered, then remembered her directive, “But would you please… um, please spank me?”
The man looked somewhat disappointed, though consoled by the offer to slap her ass.
“I’d be delighted,” he said, and turned Vixy around, pushing her roughly against the taxi and smashing her tits painfully against the glass.
Vixy screeched as his hand whacked her butt hard, sending the echoing crack through the enclosed carport and drawing the eyes of a few other guests and drivers. He gave her another vicious smack on the other cheek, leaving it red. Vixy bit her lip and tried not to cry as Krista snapped pictures of it. The man stalked off and, as Vixy rubbed her bottom, she saw another woman stop him, rub his crotch, and then begin to stroke his cock eagerly as they tongue kissed.
Krista ushered her into the cab and, a moment later, said, “Next directive. Each time you turn down a proposition, you’ll apologize for being a cockteasing bimbo. Each time you accept a proposition, you’ll get your tits shocked.
“But…” Vixy began, but the impulse to complain only made her think to herself, good girls don’t complain. Good girls don’t say no. Good girls deserve to be punished, and she said, “I guess I deserve that.”
As they drove into town, Vixy felt very confused by her own thoughts. She didn’t feel as though she deserved to be punished, but at the same time, the knowledge was there. When she thought about objecting or being a difficult bitch, she felt terrible about it, like she wasn’t doing something right. She wasn’t being a good girl. The thought of being a good girl made her feel ashamed, and when she felt ashamed, she got even wetter, and as she got wetter she felt more ashamed by the fact that her pussy was wet, which in turn made her feel like a good girl who was supposed to have a wet cunt that made her ashamed. It was a delirious cycle of feelings and confusing thoughts that she couldn’t seem to reconcile.
The driver dropped them off in town, where Vixy saw banners stretched across the streets declaring, “Frisky Friday!“ in bold letters, alongside the logo and name of the resort. Vixy felt like a slut as they got out of the cab, her large tits wobbling obscenely in view of everyone. She was sure that they could tell that her cunt was wet as they stared, open-mouthed, at her inflated sex balloons. Other hotel guests mingled amongst the locals. Several people were photographing those guests, who were wearing chokers of different colors, as they openly masturbated one another on street corners or against the walls of buildings. Vixy was somewhat relieved that the locals could not participate in propositioning her, but there were still a lot of guests out shopping, as well.
Krista followed directions on her phone, leading them to their first stop. The store was named “Sensualité” and when they stepped inside, Vixy was not surprised to find that it was a sex shop. The owner, a Latina woman in a bright, flowery red dress greeted them in fluent English.
“I am so very happy to have you,” she said, “You are a stunning beauty!”
The woman happily showed them around the shop, where Krista had Vixy pose with the owner alongside displays filled with Latin porn videos, sex toys, and bondage gear, before showing them into the back of the place. A row of booths with swinging doors lined the wall.
“These are the gloryholes,” the woman explained happily.
“Go ahead and get down on your knees at the hole,” Krista instructed.
“On my knees? The hole?” Vixy asked.
“Yeah. Just for show. Like you’re going to be a gloryhole whore.”
Vixy flushed but she went into one of the booths and got to her knees on the little cushion on the floor. The cushion crunched grossly under her weight, and she could just imagine the years of dried sperm and spit that had dripped into the fabric.
“Vixy, smile a bit. You don’t look like a happy whore,” Krista said.
Vixy didn’t feel like a happy whore. She felt cheap and gross, kneeling on a filthy cushion in the back of a Mexican sex shop, pretending to be a glory hole girl. She smiled. Krista took her picture. Vixy pictured her growing bank account to stop herself from vomiting. The owner looked thrilled.
Back at the front of the shop, Vixy was stopped by a woman wearing a pink choker.
“What timing!” the woman said, “Hey, I’m trying to decide between which of these I’m gonna buy,” she held up two large, double-headed dildoes, continuing, “Why don’t we take them to the booths! You get on one side, I’ll get on the other, and we can try them together!”
Vixy wanted to say no, but that would mean yet another humiliating directive. Furthermore, the owner would probably be upset. Melissa would be upset that she’d pissed off a sponsor. Her pussy was so whorishly wet that it was soaking her thong, and the thought of putting a toy into it, the possibility of an orgasm, made her nod her head.
“Come on, tits!” the woman said excitedly.
Vixy blushed at the demeaning name and wanted to argue that her name was not Tits, but Krista nudged her in the back, and she followed the woman toward the glory hole booths. Positioning herself on one side of the booth, Vixy, feeling ashamed by how wet and hot her pussy was, backed her ass up to the hole, flushing deeply, and pulled her thong aside. Krista snapped a photo. She could just imagine what this looked like. She was bare-titted, her new bimbo tits wobbling, as she bent at the waist and pushed her fuckhole against a glory hole, waiting for a strange woman to push a double-headed dildo into it. Of course, it would just look to the camera as though she were getting fucked through the glory hole.
Good girls are good toys. Good girls get to cum. Vixy is a good girl…
S he moaned, sluttily, as the head of the toy pushed into her welcoming cunt. Vixy pushed herself back against the wall and squeaked as the long toy invaded her fucktunnel, spreading her legs a bit wider as the pleasure of something filling her up made her hump herself delightedly against the wall. Krista filmed her shameful self-indulgence, the camera capturing the sway of her bulging melons as Vixy rocked back and forth on her feet, fucking her pussy with the toy. A muffled moan from the other side, and then a change in the pace of the fucking, signaled that the strange woman had taken her own end of the dildo into her cunt.
Vixy moaned again as the woman began to fuck herself on the other side, each of her pumping actions pushing the dildo deeper into Vixy’s excited pussy. Then, as Vixy pushed back, the woman on the other side squealed as the toy fucked her back. Krista giggled, filming Vixy’s wobbling tits, her flushed face, now lost in the pleasure of what was happening. Vixy’s legs shook violently as she felt an orgasm approaching, after only a few minutes of fucking herself. She could hear just how embarrassingly wet her pussy was, and felt ashamed that she could get off from this filthy treatment. Then, in accordance with her directive, Krista shocked her tits.
Vixy screeched at the pain, gushed cunt juice onto the toy, the wall, as she orgasmed, and her shame deepened at having such a needy fuckhole. The store owner, also watching the slutty display, laughed out loud at Vixy’s look of disappointment, when the woman on the other side of the wall extracted the toy from her cunt. A moment later, Vixy bucked and came again as the next toy filled her up, this one seeming much larger around than the last. Then, the two horny sluts were back to humping their cunts against the wall of the dirty shop.
Vixy was able to cum twice more before the woman finished “testing” the second toy. Her legs unsteady and burning, Vixy wobbled from the booth, where the strange woman, dildos in hand, kissed her on the lips and helped herself to a generous feel of Vixy’s tits. Blushing, Vixy turned her bottom toward the woman and asked, “Would you please spank me?”
The woman happily complied, pushing one of the dildos back into Vixy’s cunt to free her hand, and then laying a loud crack of her hand against the embarrassed influencer’s round ass. Vixy, mortified, gushed cunt honey around the toy, her palms flat against the wall, as she orgasmed again. The woman slid the wet toy from her cunt and turned to the owner, saying, “I think I’ll take both.”
The owner and the woman drifted away to finalize the purchase, leaving Vixy breathless and confused about why she was so horny. It was like the feeling the day prior. Her pussy was soaked.
“That was great, Vixy!” Krista exclaimed, selecting a few shots and sending them to Melissa for upload, “At least you know that if this influencer business doesn’t work out, you’d make a great glory hole girl!”
Vixy blushed further, humiliated by the jest.
“Let’s go make our next stop,” Krista said and started back toward the exit.
Vixy followed along and, soon, they found themselves back on the street, where Vixy’s giant tits were the focus of everyone’s attention. Unhappily, she followed Krista, trying to ignore the whistles and catcalls, praying that she wouldn’t be accosted again. She was fortunate.
Their next stop was a restaurant, which Vixy was thankful for. At least it wasn’t somewhere else that she’d have to embarrass herself. A server showed them to a table, ogling her tits. When they were seated, though, the server returned, reached around Vixy’s neck, and then tied a little white bib around her. On the bib, the words read, “Daddy’s messy girl.”
“What is this?” Vixy asked, moving to remove the bib.
“Keep it on,” Krista said, “The restaurant is showcasing their new kids' menu, so you’re going to wear the bib and order off the child’s menu.”
Vixy blushed. The server handed Krista a normal menu and a small paper menu to Vixy, which also included several illustrations and a three-pack of crayons. Krista took her picture.
“Color one of your pictures,” Krista instructed, “So we can show off the illustrations to the followers. They’re done by a local artist. I’ll go ahead and pick something for you.”
Vixy, reluctantly, picked up one of the crayons and began to color in a picture. The server returned, placed a little set of plastic, children’s utensils in front of Vixy, and then asked, “Do you need a moment?”
Krista shook her head, ordered her own meal, and then ordered a children’s taco meal, apple slices, and chocolate milk for Vixy. The server withdrew. Krista took more pictures of Vixy coloring with the crayons and wearing the bib. It looked ridiculous, Vixy knew. The tiny baby bib looked ludicrous when her big tits were completely exposed just below it. For a few minutes, she worked at the coloring, swapping crayons, until one of the pictures was complete. She showed it to Krista, who took a photo, and then said, “Good girl!”
Vixy, horrified, dropped the picture as she orgasmed loudly in her chair, drawing the attention of nearby diners, who giggled at her whorish behavior and took some of their own photos to commemorate the moment. While they waited, Vixy checked her feeds. The terrible photos of her were all over her accounts, along with filthy comments from her followers. On Twitter, she saw her face crushed between the legs of one of the lesbians from the prior evening. Hundreds of women, in the comments, propositioned her for the same.
Further down, she found a photo of herself with her ass backed up to the wall of the glory hole, her mouth open in orgasmic pleasure. From the angle, no one could tell that the cock in her cunt had been a dildo. It just looked like she was being fucked through a glory hole.
The image made her want to masturbate, which was very confusing because she felt like a whore. Why did she want to get herself off to her own degradation?
Good girls are aroused by their shame. Vixy is a good girl…
The server returned with their food, placing the tiny tacos in front of Vixy, opening the chocolate milk for her, and setting her apple slices alongside. She carefully ate the first taco as Krista snapped photos of her.
“No, no,” Krista said, frowning, “You’re not being messy, baby Vixy. Let me help.”
Krista scooted her chair around, placed her phone on its stand, and then let it film as she took up the next taco and fed it to Vixy, as though she were incapable of feeding herself. She let the taco grease dribble and run down Vixy’s face, soaking the bib and Vixy’s tits in grease. She made a show of scooping the grease from Vixy’s boobs and pushing it into her mouth as Vixy blushed. Krista wiped at Vixy’s mouth with the bib, cleaning her face as she cooed about what a messy girl she’d been.
Still hungry, Vixy sullenly sipped at her chocolate milk as Krista filled herself on an adult meal. The two of them, then, paid their bill, snapped a few photos of Vixy with the server, who put an arm around her, groped her tit, and then exited the restaurant. Vixy was, promptly, stopped on the street by a sexy redhead wearing a pink choker.
“Look at those fucking melons!” the woman exclaimed, loudly, “I’ll bet your pussy is just gushing having to carry those around all day. Why don’t you let me feel?”
Several passersby stopped to watch this embarrassing proposition. Vixy wanted to decline. Krista raised the camera. If she turned her down, she’d have to say that she was a cocktease in front of all these people, apologize, get her tits shocked, and then have yet another directive forced on her by her followers. Her pussy was so wet that it was hard to think straight. Instead, she nodded her head and allowed the woman to push her roughly against a wall, where, in public view of everyone on the street, she put her tongue into Vixy’s mouth. The crowd cheered. The woman slid Vixy’s thong aside and pushed her fingers into the horny influencer’s cunt, finger fucking her juicy hole as Vixy groaned into her mouth.
The woman’s fingers, coated in slut honey, slid easily in and out of Vixy’s drooling cunt, making wet, squishing sounds. People jeered, snickered, and groaned with arousal. The camera snapped photo after photo, and then Vixy squealed and orgasmed on the woman’s fingers. Krista shocked her tits. Vixy screamed and orgasmed again. With humiliated tears forming in her eyes, Vixy choked out, “Would you… please spank me?”
The delighted woman turned her around and spanked her ass once, then again, to the continued cheers of the crowd.
***
Following lunch, Vixy was actually allowed to do some real shopping in the other stores in town. On iFem’s dime, she picked out a few bags of new clothes and some pretty jewelry, which lifted her spirits. Before getting back into a taxi to head over to the marina, Vixy was humiliated only twice more by being stopped, and then publicly masturbated in front of a crowd of strangers, sluttily orgasming as her tits were shocked painfully.
During the drive, Krista lathered a new layer of sunblock into Vixy’s melons, as the taxi driver watched in his mirror. Finally, the two girls arrived at the marina. Relieved that none of the sailing hands were resort guests, Vixy looked forward to going out on the water, where no one would be able to molest her. She settled into a deck chair, next to Krista, as the ocean breeze blew across the water, sunglasses in place and a drink in her hand. Now, this is what a Mexican vacation should be like, she thought.
Krista snapped numerous photos of Vixy on the deck chair, and still more of Vixy posing with the sailors or looking out over the glittering water. More photos showed Vixy exploring the boat, showing off the sailing company’s logo, the placard with the name of the ship, and, lastly, in the wheelhouse with the captain. Throughout the journey, Vixy was plied with more drinks, and her daily supplement had her pussy soaking her thong.
The afternoon wore on, until, Krista announced that it was time for Vixy to learn about sailing knots. One of the deckhands, recruited for the task, handed Vixy a length of rope. The man made a show of teaching the topless influencer a variety of knots, which Vixy’s inebriated hands and aroused brain had difficulty with. While Krista filmed, it became clear by the man’s tone that he was growing frustrated with Vixy’s lack of dexterity. He suggested they try a new one.
Taking up another length of rope, the man quickly slung it around the base of one of Vixy’s large udders, cinching it tight as she howled in pain. She made to stop him, but Krista shocked her tits, instead causing her to cry out, orgasm, and the other assembled sailors to laugh uproariously. The deckhand continued to wind the rope around her funbag, then did the same with the other.
“Ow! Ow!” Vixy cried, but the sailor slapped her face.
“Silencio!” he shouted and pushed another length of rope between her teeth, which he skillfully wrapped behind her head, then around her wrists, tying them behind her back.
Vixy wiggled and struggled, babbling as she looked at Krista for help. The photographer just shrugged and said, “Vixy, if you weren’t being such a difficult bitch about learning the knots, this wouldn’t be happening. Just let the guy teach you about the fucking ropes. You’re messing up the shot.”
Vixy stopped struggling, instead, pouting, tears welling in her eyes as the ropes bit into her tits and caused them to bulge and turn purple. What point was there to fighting it? She reasoned that she was in the middle of the ocean, topless, with a wet cunt, surrounded by burly sailors, with only a petite photographer for assistance. Something else, the voice in her head, told her Good girls are good toys. Good girls want their tits hurt, and so Vixy allowed the man to hurt her tits because she wanted to be good. She wanted to be a good girl for iFem, to please the sponsors, to work her way up the ladder of success, so that she could do sponsorships for Louis Vuitton, like Tara Trendz.
Pleased with his work, the sailor stepped back to admire her lewd, bulging tits, nodding to himself as though he were the Lord, knowing his creation was good. Seemingly finished with his project, the deckhand resumed his duties, leaving Vixy tied. She jabbered incoherently, bouncing on her feet as the ship made for port. Krista, tired, laid down on her lounger to catch a nap, pulling a hat over her eyes. Vixy kicked at the photographer’s chair, mumbling through the rope.
“Jesus, Vixy,” Krista said, “just relax, will you? They’re just having a little fun. He’ll be back to undo them in a few minutes.”
Vixy fumed. A few minutes passed as she stumbled about on the heaving deck. The ropes were hurting her tits, and the lack of circulation in them was really starting to get to her. Agitated, she found the nearest sailor and tried to convey her distress. The man, of course, had no idea what she was saying, due to the rope gag and the fact that he spoke no English. He only stared at her, uncomprehending, shaking his head. Frustrated, Vixy went to the next man and got the same result.
The deckhand that had put her in this awful position emerged from below and Vixy quickly strode up to him, making distressed noises through the gag. The man tugged at the rope on her tits, making Vixy scream into her gag as she was forced to follow him. The other sailors laughed as she stumbled behind him, continuing to jabber. The man shoved her against the main mast and deftly untied the ropes on her tits, and as sensation began to flow back into her abused breasts, she howled into the gag and had an orgasm, while the sailor wrapped the rope around her waist, tying it to the mast.
“Stay,” he said and resumed his duties.
Vixy, her arms still tied, the gag in her mouth, had no choice but to stay tied to the mast as the ship made into port. Krista woke from her nap as the ship docked, took a few photos of Vixy’s predicament, and then spoke in Spanish to the deckhand. The man untied her, swatted her ass, and laughed as Vixy fled down the gangplank. Her tits hurt. Her wrists hurt. She stared daggers at Krista as they got into a taxi.
“Why didn’t you help me?” she snapped.
“What was I supposed to do, Vixy? Take on a boatload of muscled sailors with my kick-ass ninja skills? The guy said it was just a little fun. You had fun, right?”
“It was awful!”
Krista shocked her tits.
“Stop!”
Krista shocked her again. Vixy orgasmed sluttily in her seat.
“Damn it, Vixy!” Krista exclaimed, making the driver laugh, “You’re really killing the fun of the trip. I don’t know why you’re fighting this. You chose this. You did it to yourself. Nobody made you sign your contract. I mean, fuck, I wish someone would pay me all that money to get new tits, a free apartment, and send me on tropical vacations. I’d probably suck dick for that kind of deal, and I’m not even straight. Now, are you gonna get on board and keep everyone happy, or would you rather fly home and find a new job?”
Vixy fell silent, looking out the window. It was her fault. Krista was right. She’d been stupid enough to sign a contract without really reading it. Now, she had an obligation to abide by the terms. She, still, had no idea what those actual terms were, but they apparently gave iFem the right to do anything they wanted to her, in order to please their customers. Had any of it, really, done her harm, though? No, she decided. It was humiliating, yes. It was degrading, but that’s what she deserved.
The voice in her head told her so, and the voice was important. It reinforced her belief that she was a good girl, and good girls deserved shame. Good girls didn’t complain. When she complained, she wasn’t a good girl, and everything inside her told her that she wanted to be good. She wanted to please the sponsors. She was a good toy, meant for pleasure.
The thoughts were so confusing, and her wet, needy pussy only made them more so. How was she supposed to think with a wet pussy that made her so ashamed? Maybe, she should just stop thinking. Even as she thought this, it seemed right. Decisions were very difficult when her pussy was so wet. Melissa was in charge, and Melissa could make the decisions. The company was already taking care of all the details in her life, and that fact made things much easier. They were paying her bills, managing her accounts, and scheduling her day. She just needed to follow the instructions. She just needed to obey.
“I’m sorry,” Vixy said, “I’m sorry for being bad.”
Bad. She’d been a bad girl. The thought brought tears to her eyes, for some reason. It went against everything she knew to be true. Bad girls didn’t get paid. Bad girls weren’t loved by their followers. iFem didn’t like bad girls. An irrational sense of terror filled her at the idea that iFem might not like her, and she began to cry, putting her head in her hands. It felt awful. Krista put her arm around her.
“Hush, Vixy,” Krista said, soothingly, “I know it’s hard to be good, sometimes. You get those silly thoughts about not wanting to do what you’re told. That’s Vivianne talking, and Vivianne isn’t real. Vivianne is a liar and a fake. Vixy isn’t.”
Vixy felt a little worry at the words, but at the same time, they made sense. VixyViv was who she’d aspired to be. Vivianne was just a name on a piece of paper and a slip of plastic in her purse. That wasn’t who she’d worked so hard to become. She’d worked hard to be VixyViv. She’s spent all those long years, hiding from other people, eating meager meals from the dollar store, trading in clothes, scraping for each and every follower, meticulously mimicking those celebrity looks for her YouTube channel, all in her pursuit of being VixyViv.
Now, she was VixyViv. She’d gained more followers in days than she’d been able to accumulate in years.
She’d done it by being a good girl, by obeying iFem. Vivianne was a liar. Vivianne had taken the contract, and signed it with Vivianne’s name, without reading it. Vivianne was the one that was unhappy because Vivianne was a bad girl. It was Vivianne who had made the decisions, and her decisions had gotten VixyViv a set of bimbo tits. They’d gotten VixyViv raped by lesbians. Vivianne had given them the right to put shock chips in her tits and cunt. VixyViv hated Vivianne. She hated that scamster, who had been broke and living from dime to dime.
Even now, there was a voice in her head that sounded like her, like Vixy, telling her that Vivianne was not to be trusted. Vivianne was a liar. Vivianne was a fake. Vivianne wasn’t real.
“You want to be good, don’t you?” Krista asked.
Vixy nodded. Vixy was a good girl.
“You just need to go with it, Vixy. The followers will love you. iFem will love you. You’re a good girl.”
Vixy’s body seized up, shook, and then she came, as Krista held her, and the pleasure pushed away the unwelcome thoughts. She was a good girl. The words gave her pleasure. The words made her cum. She didn’t want to feel bad. She wanted to feel pleasure, and being a good girl, clearly, gave her pleasure. Krista put her hands between Vixy’s legs, slipping her wet thong aside, and began to stroke her pussy. It was all so confusing, through the extreme horniness, all the jumbled thoughts, the conflicting feelings.
The thoughts in her head were bumping up against one another like fruits in a blender. The Vivianne thoughts, scared, worried, and combative, warred with the VixyViv thoughts of being compliant, good, and willing. They’d been doing it for days, ever since she’d started the sponsorship, she realized, like she had two different people in her mind and they each wanted a different thing. Right now, though, it was the good girl, Vixy, that was on top, driven by the wet and happy feeling in her pussy.
“You’re so wet,” the photographer said, “So wet, like a little sexdoll.”
Vixy turned toward her, intent on stating that she was not a sexdoll, but then Krista put her tongue in Vixy’s mouth and touched her clit. Vixy moaned, instead, and allowed the photographer to grope her tits and touch her hot twat as they kissed, the driver watching in his mirror.
***
Vivianne was pleased when they returned to the resort, to see that Frisky Friday had ended with the approach of evening.
“It can only go on for so long,” Krista explained, as they departed the cab, “The hotel staff has other responsibilities. They can’t just spend the whole day masturbating with the guests, right?”
Tired, her tits sore and her fuckhole wet, Vixy wanted nothing more than a shower and a nap. Krista accompanied her up the elevator, then entered her own room.
“Just ring me when you’re up, but don’t oversleep,” Krista instructed, “The resort’s hosting a movie night tonight, and as the special guest, you’re going to need to attend.”
“Movie night?” Vixy asked, glad that she could finally do something normal.
“Yup. Melissa sent over a dress for you and everything. It’s probably in your room by now.”
Vixy nodded, too tired to say more and let herself into her room. On the bed was a package from Melissa. Vixy set it aside, showered, and then opened the box. The dress was a sheer mini, which was barely a dress at all. She saw the Eye Candy label on the tag, her sponsor, and hung it aside for later. At least she could finally cover her embarrassing tits, she thought. The comforter pulled around her naked body, Vixy slept.
***
Feeling rested and ready for a relaxing film, Vixy styled her hair and put on the dress. The thing was nearly translucent and accentuated her large melons in a way that drew nearly as much attention to them as if she’d gone topless. Still, it was more clothing than she’d worn in nearly two days. She met Krista outside her room, and the two of them took dinner at one of the resort restaurants, where Vixy was allowed to eat adult food. It felt great, not having to wear the choker, have her tits shocked, or do something humiliating.
Once dinner was finished, they made their way toward a large conference room, which had been converted into a makeshift theater. Vixy had not bothered to ask about the film.
Honestly, she didn’t care. She was just happy not to be the center of attention. While many of the assembled guests were still nude or topless, a great many had opted for sexy dresses for the occasion. Krista showed Vixy to her seat, passing by the rows of chairs, and then past the front row, to a singular chair that stood alone in the front of all the others. Vixy turned to Krista, blushing when she saw that the chair had a large dildo suction-cupped to the seat.
“The place of honor!” Krista said happily.
“What is this?” Vixy asked.
“You’re the special guest,” Krista explained, “and the resort wants to show the movie you made of your time with the Thong Thursday winners, for the other ladies.”
Vixy paled.
“But… That’s -” she tried to protest, but the words wouldn’t come out.
Good girls obey. Good girls are ashamed. Good girls are aroused by their shame. Good girls admit their shame. Vixy is a good girl…
“I’m so wet,” she heard herself say, instead.
“You should be!” Krista said, “It was totally hot! These chicks are gonna dig watching you in action.”
The photographer eased Vixy’s reluctant body toward the chair. Blushing furiously, Vixy lifted the edge of the dress and positioned her wet cunt over the toy, then sank down onto it with a slutty groan, as Krista snapped her picture. The fake cock filled her up, and Vixy shook in the chair as her excited sheath engulfed the length of the toy. Her eyes misted over as she shifted, trying to get comfortable, which only made the dildo rub her insides pleasantly.
Guests filed in, filling the seats, and commenting on the half-dressed star of the show in the front. Her lesbian rapists squealed excitedly when they saw her, taking the liberty to put their tongues into her mouth and fondle her udders in front of the crowd.
“This is going to be great,” Emma commented, “I’m so excited to see the finished product. I caught a few clips on your feed earlier, and it made me so fucking wet. You really were a lot of fun to fuck, Vixy.”
Vixy squirmed in her chair, finding it difficult to formulate a reply with a fake cock lodged in her fuckhole and her slippery twat drooling cunt honey into her seat. She wanted to fuck the chair. The two women found seats n the front row, chattering to one another as the room filled. Vixy had to sit, silently, the dildo in her cunt, flushed and horny, contemplating the fact that she was going to sit through the recording of her degradation at the hands of two strange lesbians, who had used her body as their prize. It was awful and humiliating. It was making her pussy gush. Vivianne was telling her to get up and leave. She told Vivianne to shut up and be a good girl, or she was going to get fired.
The lights dimmed. Vixy sat, grinding the chair, throughout the entire video. During portions in which the two women were not moaning and calling her filthy names, Vixy could hear amused laughter from behind her. She wasn’t sure if people were laughing at the video, or giggling at the fact that they could see her, in the light of the screen, fucking a fake cock in the front row. The entire day’s arousal, fueled by her special supplements, made Vixy cum three times as she watched the women use her, the memory of the shameful pleasure and the fact that millions of people were going to see it, bringing confused tears to her eyes.
Enjoying this story? You can pick up the finished book in the shop! This book tells the story of Vivianne, who dreams of being a real social media influencer. When she's offered a contract with Internet Famous Entertainment Management (iFem), her life is taken control of by her campaign manager, Melissa. Melissa has her own plans for Vivianne's social media career, and they include degrading and humiliating her as often as possible, rewriting her personality, and turning her into a cash machine for the evil iFem corporation.
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