Sep 232015
 

Darren hurried his way down Pumpkin Street. His satchel was full of panties to mend when he got home. He held the satchel close to him for fear of robbers stealing the personal items of twenty customers.

A crowd was forming in the street. People donned black cowls that covered their faces but left their screaming mouths free. Cars angrily honked at the growing mass. Fists shook in the air as the crowd swelled with new members.

They were Shamers. Darren recognized them from the paper. The Mayor of Atlantica called them anarchists. The bankers called them lazy. The police called them terrorists. The critics called them outdated.

Darren stuck to the sidewalk and tried to walk past them. He had panties to mend. His boss paid him a flat fee for every panty he finished at home. There was enough in his satchel to pay for a ticket at the Owl Theater.

A woman was on the edge of the protestors. She saw Darren walking by and she grabbed his arm. Darren clutched his satchel tighter.

“Join us!” the woman yelled. The cowl concealed her eyes but her lips were angry. She wore a tight blue t-shirt that outlined her breasts. Darren identified them as 32 B cups.

“I have to go,” Darren said.

The woman held onto his arm. “They’re cutting the budget for the Stew Kitchens! The number of poor is growing but the kitchens are shrinking!”

“I’m sorry,” Darren said. He tugged gently at the arm that held him.

She didn’t let go. “Join us! Every voice counts! We will shame the rich and powerful together!” Her tongue had a black piercing that looked like a spider sat in her mouth.

“I hope you do,” Darren offered.

“I have a mask,” the woman said. She pulled out a cowl from her pants pocket. “The police won’t know who you are!”

Darren shuddered. The police would know. If there was one thing he learned from his horrible experience with the police is that they always knew.

“I’ll join!” someone said. It was a man a little younger than Darren. “Fuck the Mayor!” he said.

The woman let go of Darren’s arm. Her lips had turned from anger to disgust. She handed the extra mask to the new man. He put it on as she pulled him towards the mob in the street.

Darren was free to go but he stayed. The masked woman kept looking at him as she yelled the crowd’s slogans. He felt she was yelling it to him.

“Feed them more!” the crowd yelled.

The angry cars honked in annoyance.

“Feed them more!” the masked woman yelled while looking at Darren.

“Feed them yourself!” someone yelled from a window.

“Feed them more!” the crowd chanted as the woman pointed at Darren.

Darren didn’t move.

The masked woman turned the man she recruited towards him. As the crowd pumped their fists in the air, the masked woman dropped to her knees. The masked woman unzipped his pants and pulled out his thick pale cock.

Darren looked around. A crowd of onlookers had gathered on the street. They were screaming obscenities at the crowd but did anyone see the kneeling masked woman? He wasn’t sure.

The masked woman took the man’s cock into her lips. The new recruit stopped shouting and cheered instead. The masked woman swallowed all of the thick pale cock between her angry lips.

A throbbing began in Darren’s pants. He wondered how the spider piercing on her tongue must feel.

The masked woman’s head bobbed on the new recruit’s cock. Small breasts jiggled within her tight shirt. Her hands gripped the man’s ass to drive his cock deep down her throat.

Darren brought the satchel down over his erection. He needn’t bother. No one was looking at him. They were all shouting at the Shamers.

He looked to see if any other Shamers were engaged in such blatant acts. One woman had stripped off her shirt. Three men were baring their ass to the honking cars. No, the only one performing a sex act was the one he had refused.

A new chant had started. “Shame on you! Shame on you! Shame on you!” The mob had grown as more people joined but only one protestor was sucking the cock of another.

The masked woman turned towards Darren with the man’s cock in her mouth. He watched her cheek bulge with the tip of his cock. Her eyes were covered but Darren had no doubt that the masked woman was looking at him.

Was she trying to seduce him into the crowd? Was she punishing him for not joining her? Or was this his reward for joining that he had unknowingly given up?

Darren didn’t know. His cock ached with an urgent need to slip into angry lips and feel the tapping of a piercing.

The masked woman turned back towards the cock. The man was no longer shouting. He reached down and held her head to his crotch. Darren watched as the man shook and the masked woman shuddered.

A scream went up. People rushed past Darren and he lost sight of the masked woman. Down at the end of the street were flashes of light. Darren knew from experience that the light came from the sun reflecting off the mirror face shields of the police.

It was time to flee. Darren looked back into the mob and saw that most of them had run.

The masked woman hadn’t left. She was still on her knees although the new recruit was long gone. She wiped her lips and sucked on her fingers.

Darren couldn’t wait any longer. He ran down the street with the others. Discarded masks littered the sidewalk as he ran. His heart pounded as he heard the marching steps of the police behind him.

His cock throbbed as he ran all the way home.

  2 Responses to “Fiction: Shame on You”

  1. Wow, that’s a recruitment technique I’ve never seen before. I bet he’ll be thinking about it for a while. :) Thank you, it was lovely.

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