Chapter Four

"Alright, gentlemen," a grinning Vicki said, curling her fingers towards herself, "unzip!" Yet another one of her patented games, she kneeled beneath one of the tables in the ball, surrounded by six pairs of legs and one of her camera spheres floating about near her. Above the table floated the other two, capturing the faces of the six lucky men chosen for the little game, all prior partners of hers. Watching as they each lowered the fly of their black pants, fingers tugging their varied members free, some hard, some still soft, she had to guess whose cock belonged to which prior partner. If she could guess, then that man was out of the running. If she couldn't, well, she just had to keep sucking until he was finished. Sometimes the game was short, sometimes it made for quite the lengthy broadcast.

Made for quite a soar jaw sometimes, too.

Sidling forward on the plush carpet, Vicki let her ginger fingertips take hold of the first cock, some white pubic hairs peeking from the fly of the man's pants as the member struggled to get rigid. She hummed loudly for both the men and audience above the table, and for those watching via the netfeed, gently stroking, her tongue softly flicking against the tip of the crown. Immediately she heard a familiar gasp and let out a giggle. "This wouldn't happen to be Mr. Mayor's cock, now, would it?"

"Damn it!" came a curse from above, followed by jovial laughter of the men and audience surrounding. Vicki deftly placed the man's cock back into his pants after giving it a gentle kiss. "Don't worry, Mayor, I'll be sure to come pay you a visit this week."

"Make it two!" he exclaimed, garnering another round of laughter. Her ivory teeth flashed in another giggle before she sidled over between the next pair of legs, the cock already upright, fingertips holding it at the base. She adjusted the straps on her dress, lined with LEDs to keep flashing different colors, the neckline plunging down to her belly-button, her bosom tastefully showcased for any to see... well, save for this current situation.

"Hmm, this now this one might be hard," Vicki pondered, her index finger running from the tip down towards the shaved sac.

"Oh it's plenty hard," said the owner of the cock, creating yet another round of laughter. She smirked, recognizing the voice instantly, only...

"You asshole!" she exclaimed with a smile, grabbing onto the cock and giving it some seemingly violent tugs, almost as if in punishment. "You're one of the Gorman twins!"

"Sure am," the man said, the smile on his face audible through his voice. "Which one, though?" Violet sighed, pausing a moment, before lunging forward and wrapping her lips around the crown. Immediately her tongue began to swirl and flick, her cheeks caving in as she focused strictly on the tip, all while her hand began to stroke up and down the man's full length. The fraternal twins were quite similar, even down to the appearance of their members, but they had distinct twitches, tells, and even a single vein that separated them. It was just a manner of remembering whose was whose. Despite her attempt to focus on the sensitive head, this Gorman brother wasn't giving anything away yet. Inhaling deeply through her nose, she dove down, her throat excellently capturing the whole length, gulping, squeezing onto it, pulling up only to dive back down. Almost immediately his right leg began to twitch and bounce, his breath catching, her tongue caressing the thick vein that ran slightly to the left along the shaft.

Her lips forming into as close to a smile as she could with a mouth full of cock, and a proud moan, she pulled free, her hand twisting along the Gorman brother's shaft as it spilled from her mouth. "This dick belongs to Sean Gorman, lead programming director of the Cosmic Sports Network!" she exclaimed with the utmost confidence. The delightful expression on her face immediately gave way to wide-eyed shock, her hand pausing its cork-screwing strokes, as the crowd of and around the table gave a low, audible response of the negative.

"My brother was too slow to make it to the table," the man above exclaimed. "I'm Shamus Gorman, Chief Financial Officer of Andromeda Athletics." Puffing her cheeks out, Vicki feigned disappointment as she looked at her floating camera sphere.

"It's no fair, catching me off guard with a twin," she sighed. Yet her frown immediately turned upside down, her hand stroking once more, spreading her saliva along the now shining cock before her. "Guess I might as well enjoy it, though." She opened her mouth, ready to bring the cock back between her lips.

"You better be quick, Shamus," said the next cock in line, "I got a schedule to keep." Vicki couldn't suppress her laugh, her tongue tickling against the crown as her hot breath caressed the length of the rigid flesh. The crowd seemed just as amused, but after one quick suckle of Shamus' crown, Vicki pulled back once more.

"Now that voice could only belong to the legendary retired fighter Nova Nater."

"Fuck!"

Another round of laughter as the next pair of legs pulled back from the table, Vicki eliminating the poor man before he even got the chance to be touched. With a shrug, batting her eyes at her camera, Vicki finally returned to the erection in her hand, her lips half wrapping around the crown while her tongue flicked the underside, making sure the camera could see before enveloping the bulbous tip with her fully mouth. Closing her eyes, she allowed her tongue to softly trace the length now, her lips slowly inching down and back up, savoring the flavor of the turgid member, her other hand slipping down between towards her knees, eagerly shifting the material of her dress up her thighs until she could probe her fingers between them, her index finger slipping along her damp folds, nudging the button of her clitoris, teasing herself as the let out an appreciative moan along the rigid flesh locked between her lips.

Soon, the commotion around the table began to fade away. All the whispers and soft commentary of the audience, the cajoling of the remaining men awaiting their turn, trying to coax the gasping Shamus Gorman relaxing into his seat, his chest rising and falling with heavier and heavier breaths. She slowly continued to dip her face downwards, smelling the oils he used in the shower before coming, mixing with the musk of his masculine cock now swallowed up by her mouth. The salty drips of precum smeared upon her tongue, which in turn swirled around the crown each time she pulled back up, her dainty fingers softly caressing as she took her time. It had been too long since she could just enjoy herself, enjoy the flavor and feel of a hardened man between her plump lips, her finger dancing upon her own sensitive nub, causing her to coo and moan softly, each vibration sending its own unique wave of pleasure throughout the man whose legs she knelt between, his thighs tensing around her.

So lost in the moment was she that the sudden pounding of footsteps approaching the table went unnoticed, as did the gasps of the guests, the sudden flight of the other men from the table, scrambling to slip their cocks back into their pants. It wasn't until that delicious and warm cock forcibly slipped from her lips, strings of saliva pulling away and dipping towards the floor, that her eyes opened and she noticed something was wrong.

WHAM!

The entire table shook above her, the sound of the impact nearly deafening right above her head. The slam was immediately followed by a feminine grunt from above, only for more to follow. With a heavy sigh, Vicki sought out her purse, seeing the shadow of a mighty thick pair of feet and calves on the other side of the table through the cloth, accompanied by far thinner, more dainty legs. Upon finding her purse, she opened it up to withdraw a light pink handkerchief, wiping her own dampness from her fingers before cleaning some of the saliva from her lips and chin. By time she replaced the handkerchief with a compact mirror and make-up kit, the table had begun to rock back and forth, masculine grunts accompanied by the feminine groans and squeals of a woman being thoroughly fucked. She sighed, touching up her lipstick and blush as the disruptive couple continued to jostle the table, causing the wood to creak noisily as the woman's cries grew louder. The sphere hovering about her had a yellow light, indicating it was recording but was not the current camera. Excellent. It wouldn't catch this lapse of composure.

Straightening her dress out, she replaced her disappointed, somewhat irritated expression with one of a delightfully surprised smile. She lifted the table cloth, bending low to ensure her breasts hung and swayed low enough to draw some eyes, crawling out from between the chairs before finally standing upright.

"Well now, what's this that has come to interrupt my fun little game?" Spinning around, allowing her dress to flourish a little, she gazed at the pair that had decided her table would be used for a thorough fucking. The vase with flowers was knocked aside, the water within soaking into the cloth, and several dishes and glasses of champagne and wine had been tossed to the floor. A young, silver-haired girl was pressed to the table top, her mouth agape, desperately trying to suck air in before it all burst free with a deep moan, her brow furrowed in what seemed a mixture of pain and pleasure. The flimsy covering that would barely cover her large breasts at the best of times as loosened to the side, her bare bust pressed and rubbing against the table, both of her arms wrapped behind her, wrists crossed and locked within the massive grip of the large man penetrating her. Boltram, the mad fist, stood behind her, holding onto her hands, buttons upon his shirt having popped off and showcasing some of his scarred, tanned, muscular abdomen. His teeth grit and a vein protruded along his temple, his pants dropped down below his hips so that his massive, full cock could slam and shove into this girl so much smaller than him. With a heavy shout, Boltram's other giant fist grabbed onto the silver hair of the girl, and with a high-pitched cry he lifted her head up, arching her back, her large breasts now fully exposed and bouncing wildly with each jack-hammer thrust.

"Oh my," Vicki feigned a gasp, "it seems tomorrow night's favorite to win, Boltram the Mad Lightning Fist, has found himself a little toy to play with." Exaggerating the sway of her hips, Vicki approached the large man, leaning forward to peer on the sweating face of the young silver-haired girl being thoroughly rammed. "Hopefully you won't be breaking this one?" The playfulness is subdued somewhat by an accusatory tone, the side-eyed gleam of Vicki's one of suspicion and disgust as she examined the grit teeth of Boltram. Without even a hesitation, his own gaze shifts to the brunette.

"If you want a turn," he says, shoving the face of the young woman back towards the table, her cheek pressed against the cloth, soaking in some of her drool as her mouth continues to gape open, "you'll have to wait." The young woman's eyes open slightly, seeming desperate to absorb her surroundings, but soon her gaze rolls upwards as she is given no respite.

"Not a chance," Vicki says with a slight giggle, turning around and hopping herself to sit on the table. "You're most certainly not my type, Boltram. All machismo, no sense of romance or fun." Her delicate fingertips brush some of the strands of silver hair from the young woman's forehead. "You fuck like you fight," she says with a cold deadpan, gazing intently at the subtle shift of expressions on the girl. Each thrust of Boltram's rocks the entire table, causing Vicki's own breasts to jiggle and sway. For a moment there is silence, save for the creaking of the table, the crying moans of the young woman, and Boltram's increasingly animalistic grunts.

"Do not worry," a monotone, mechanical voice blurts from behind Vicki. "I am monitoring her vitals. The numbers indicate she is feeling excitement and pleasure." Vicki turns her head towards a large floating machine, dark in color, spherical with what appear to be two vertical wings to its sides, an orange lens shifting in and out of focus as it gazes towards the brunette reporter. It is then that Vicki notices a crowd gathering somewhat, observing, curious to see how things develop.

"I'm not sure I trust an AI's perception of feelings, emotion, and pleasure, given a robot can't exactly feel anything at all," Vicki sighs, leaning back on both hands, jutting her breasts out. The audience and cameras are given more of a show as she allows that jiggle from the trembling table to be more obvious. His exhales coming in bursts through grit teeth, Boltram's bare ass cheeks starting to clench and tense, seeming desperate to shove the girl forward across the table inch-by-inch with his hip thrusts. He releases her hair only to grasp her jaw, lifting her face up again, the moans becoming more high-pitched. "Are you sure you can keep your beast in check... Eugene, was it?" Vicki tilts her head, brow furrowed in faux thought. "Curious name for a robot."

"I assure you, no one else has a leash on Boltram such as I do," the monotone machine replied, ignoring the last comment. Boltram's head snapped to the machine with a snarl, almost foaming at the mouth, but the camera lens simply shifted to the young woman. "She will be climaxing imminently."

As if on cue, the young woman's cries achieved a pitch, almost like a whistle, though so high beyond her vocals it cracked and broke in a long, quaking exhale of pleasure. Her whole body trembled, her thighs quivering as if in fear, unable to control her release soaking directly onto the table and the large fighter. Boltram did not relent, did not adjust, just kept on thrusting through the tightening inner walls. The only sign of any change was his grunts growing louder, his hand lowering to grasp onto the young woman's throat. With a single squeeze, the young woman's eyes shot open, all the pleasure of her expression swapped to fear.

"Stop!" Vicki cried, reaching for Boltram's hand.

"Boltram," the AI calmly stated at the same time. Releasing, Boltram pulled back, his cock slipping free from the young woman, her body dropping onto the table. All the creaking and shaking of the table, the clapping of flesh together, the high pitched moaning, all silent and gone save for the low, rumbling growl of Boltram as his huge, bare cock twitched, white seed flying through the air and splashing onto the disheveled dress of the young woman. She heaved and gasped for air, fingers weakly gripping at the table cloth, barely registering the hot, wet mess of cum striking her dress or her partially exposed ass cheek. She didn't even register Vicki's gentle fingers running softly through her sweat-drenched tresses.

"I'm finished here," Boltram grunted towards Eugene, pulling his trousers back up, not even taking care to clean himself off as the last of his seed dripped onto the carpet before smearing onto his pants. With heavy footfalls he stomped away, the crowd parting for him as the sea before Moses. The gathered observers sat in hushed silence for a moment, the entire party having been brought to a standstill while the massive warrior had taken his pleasure. Then, steadily, the occasional whisper built to a murmur, and soon enough the entire ball room was filled with chatter, gossip, and even laughter once more.

"I have stopped monitoring her vitals, having confirmed that she is returning to normal levels," Eugene stated, floating over to Vicki. "I must also apologize, as I hacked into every camera within this vicinity, including your own, to censor the face of the young woman."

"You apologize?" Vicki snapped, her own face a snarl as she stared at the machine. "That's not only a gross violation of privacy, it's a violation of-"

"It was to protect her privacy," the machine interrupted. "I'm sure you'll come to understand once you have spoken with her." The camera then began to rotate around Vicki, in the direction that Boltram had fled. "If you still feel wronged even after confirming her identity, then feel free to send me what you believe is a reasonable fee for compensatory damages." Without anymore room for discussion, the camera spun and floated through the crowd, clearly seeking to catch up with its client.

Closing her eyes and sighing heavily, Vicki's fingers continued to caress the young woman's hair. She seemed to finally be collecting herself, her eyes peering up at the brunette tending to her. Vicki gave the young woman a soft, tender smile before glancing up at her hover spheres, the cameras having captured everything.

"Well, I'm sorry to say today's show didn't go according to plan," she said with an exaggerated furrow of her brow. "However, I promise to make it up to each and every one of you. For now, I'm going to help our exhausted little doll recover." She gave the young woman a pat on her head to emphasize the point. "Until next time, my lovelies." With that, Vicki winked, blew a kiss to the camera, and then signaled to cut the feed.