Comments Are Enabled Ch. 02

The strange thing was that normally, at some point or other, I would have felt something. Somebody would have seen it and their comment would have got through to me as an insistent fucking, before the mass gang-bang happened at five a.m. But I felt nothing. Was Mona getting it instead? Had I somehow passed it on to her? I phoned her.

"Hey, you feeling anything?"

"Nothing at all," she said. "You?"

"Nope."

"Maybe it's over."

"Maybe. I'm not gonna believe it until I've gone a week without it, though."

"You still want to meet up later?"

"Yeah," I said. "Just to be sure. Is that okay?"

"Oh, totally."

I spent the rest of the day in an increasing sense of uncertainty. Maybe, just maybe, the curse of the Ghost Sex was over.

***

The tapping on the window woke me, but I hadn't slept much. I hadn't dreamed either, and I hadn't had to fight anything off.

I opened the window and there was Mona, not wearing her usual gear of a shapeless sweatshirt and baggy pants, but jeans and a t-shirt. She looked really good.

"Hey," I said. "You look great."

"Yeah," she said. "I got laid."

I laughed and climbed out to the garden, and we set off.

When we got to the spot, it was as deserted as ever. Mona brought out her wipes and iPad and a couple of bottles of water and I quickly undressed. If anything I felt a bit more shy, this time. Mona had not only seen me naked, she'd had intimate contact with my body. I sat hugging my knees.

We waited, talking about stuff we'd done that day, avoiding the question of our friendship and how we were going to deal with the fact that we'd now had sex with each other.

Finally, I broached it.

"So," I said, "it's weird. Now that we've ... you know."

"I know," said Mona. "God, I'm glad you mentioned it. I don't really know what to do about it."

"I don't see that we have to do anything different," I said. "Just because we slept together."

"Well, it seems to have turned off the comments, anyway," Mona said. "I guess people were repelled enough by my - oh, wow. Oh no. Oh God."

She put her hand to her mouth as if she felt sick, and shut her eyes.

"What is it?" I said.

"Ohhh, Jesus," Mona gasped. "It's, it's, it's happening, Harriet. To me. I can feel them. I can feel the c- ... aaaAAAHHH!"

She thrust one hand down into her crotch and the other grabbed her chest. Mona grimaced and moaned again.

"OH, my God," she panted. "Yeah, they're, they're starting to fuck me, Harriet, oh, oh ... ohhh, fuck, that is ... ahhh! Yeah. Oh shit. I can feel them, it must be now." She looked at me, scared but also with that slightly distant, glazed look people get when they're really aroused. "Can you feel them?"

"Not a thing," I said, mystified, but I snapped into action and dashed over to her and started taking off Mona's t-shirt.

"What are you doing?" she whimpered, her body twitching as I unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down her legs.

"Trust me," I said. "You're not gonna want to be wearing anything. It's way easier."

"No," she gasped, clearly distressed, "no, they're, oh fuck, Harriet, there's so many of them, they're in my pussy and ... oh GOD NO MMMPPHHH!"

Her mouth stretched wide open and she was clearly being fucked in it. Mona opened her eyes wide and they bulged. She thrashed as I fumbled with her bra and managed to pull it off, then I reached down and slowly hauled her panties down her kicking legs.

Then Mona was at last naked and I watched, helplessly, as her body was pushed and prodded by the invisible commenters, whose remarks were being acted out on the defenceless body of an eighteen-year-old girl. I saw her tits being squashed together and she was trying to roll her head from side to side. Her glasses were coming off and I retrieved them from her face, and her muffled screams were suddenly unmuffled and she cried "AAAAAAHH! AAAAH! Oh FUCK, please, please, I ... I can't take it ...you ... oh Jesus ... it ... oooooOOOOOOH!"

Her body twitched as she came, helpless to stop herself, and I grabbed her hand and held it tight as orgasm after orgasm tore through her inexperienced young body. Soon Mona was just lying there, twitching, her eyes half-shut, moaning incoherently with lust and humiliation.

Then she rolled onto her belly, away from me, and her hand was tugged out of my gasp, and she rose onto all fours and opened her eyes wide and moaned "Oh God! They're ... they're going for my ... they're going for my ass, oh no, oh ... oh ..."

I lunged forward and grabbed her hand as her eyes bulged and she squealed with shock. I knew what was happening to her.

"Oh fuck," she groaned, "oh fuck, they're in my ass, I ... God, I'm ... p-please, I ... I've never done this before ... please ..."

"Mona," I urged her, "just submit, honey, submit to it, if you just give in, it ..."

I broke off becase I felt the most irresistible probing at my pussy lips, and I shut my eyes and silently prayed for it to go away, because my friend needed me, but my prayer was ignored, and I gasped as I felt the thick cock sliding into me.

"Ohhhhh ..." I groaned. "Oh no, please, not now, I need to ... please ... I need to help my friend ..."

I opened my eyes and saw Mona on all fours before me, her upturned face taut with terror and arousal, her eyes wide open, and I opened my mouth to tell her to close them, when it happened.

The cum erupted out of nowhere and splattered across Mona's face, neck and upper body, first just a couple of spurts, then more, then a steady flow. It happened in gallons. She coughed and spat it out, her face masked with a thick covering of sticky white fluid, but more kept coming, splashing over her body. For some reason it was way more than had happened to me. It seemed that the internet had liked Mona - really liked her. It was splashing its cum across her tits and dripping onto the grass. She had shut her eyes and was making a muffled whimper of protest through her tight lips, but it was no use. It was happening on her back too, and on her bare ass.

And then I felt them in my mouth, and pushing apart my tight ass cheeks and pushing at my asshole, and I just gave in with a weak whimper as they took me, too, simultaneous with Mona, the two girls who'd done the lesbian video, both of us getting raped by phantom bodies that had the power to make us submit to it.

And then it came, and it was splashing in my face too, drenching me, and I was blind and coughing and spitting, and my nerve endings were firing and I could do nothing but give in to the arousal and flood of endorphins and the total humiliation of it.

What was it like? Imagine being in a blizzard, naked, with the elements battering your body, getting everywhere, so you can't move, and at the same time the storm is fucking your brains out in your every orifice, so you don't want to move, except that you do, because it's not something you invited to happen, it's an ordeal at the same time as it's making you cum. Imagine not being given the option to feel ecstasy. It's ... it's not right.

I got on all fours, cause it was just easier that way, and I tried to keep my mouth shut as the cum soaked my face and hair, and I shivered with humiliation and silently wished it to stop.

Then I heard Mona's whimpering and her flailing hand touched my arm and grabbed it, and she gasped "Harriet, please ... I can't ... can you hold me?"

"Oh God, yeah," I managed to mumble, getting a mouthful of cum in the process, and I reached forward blindly and felt my friend's drenched, sticky naked body, shaking as she was fucked, and we embraced and held each other tight as the storm passed through and on us. Holding Mona like that, each of us naked and being fucked and cum on by hundreds of phantom cocks, was about the least sexy thing I've ever done in my life, but I was so glad she was there and that I was there for her.

It was hard, it wasn't tender, it was done like the people who had fantasised about fucking us really wanted us to suffer because we'd had such a visibly good time together. The ones before which had stood out from the crowd? This was all like those ones. I had a strong sense of who they all were - the spotty teenage boy with the Eminem poster, the angry middle-aged househusband with the pot belly, the respectable lawyer, the priest ...

"Oh God," Mona sobbed in my ear, and then so much cum got into her mouth that she had to spit.

"It's gonna end, my love, it's gonna end, I promise," I gasped, feeling my ass impacted and pumped by the cocks invading me, and my poor aching pussy throbbing.

And then it was slackening off, and I was able to take more than short breaths, and their bodies were leaving our bodies alone, and we were empty and spent and exhausted.

Finally, it ebbed completely, and we were two white, naked, sticky girls kneeling on the grass holding each other. Mona was sobbing quietly in my arms.

"Oh Jesus," she whimpered. "Jesus. I never realised it was like that."

"That was as bad as it's ever been," I said. I reached up to wipe my eyes. "Oh, fuck."

Mona delicately disengaged from me and wiped her eyes with the heels of her hand. "I officially don't want to have sex ever again," she muttered.

"It wears off," I said. "Don't worry. Although that was less fun than before. A lot less fun."

"I can't believe I don't have some kind of fissure in my asshole, or something," Mona said. "I'm real sorry, can you look for me?"

I crawled around behind Mona, blinking the dripping cum out of my eyes, and inspected her rear end. It looked raw and sore, but there was no blood.

"You're not even bleeding. It probably feels worse than it is."

"Shit," said Mona quietly, and let herself flop onto her back on the grass. I lay next to her and held her hand.

We lay quietly on the grass, breathing heavily, feeling the cum evaporate off us, which made us feel cold. Soon, we were no longer sticky and drenched in human seminal fluid but clean and chilly and sore.

Mona sat up.

"My fucking eyes," she said. "They're burning."

"It's the cum," I said, my own eyes watering. "It's an irritant."

"Is it in real life?"

"Mona, I don't know," I said. "This may come as a surprise to you, but in real life I've never let anyone cum in my face."

"Roxie," said Mona, squinting about her, "explain to me how this is not real life."

"What are you looking for?"

"My glasses. Duh."

"Here you go," I said, picking them up off her bag. She put them on and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well," she said. "Okay. So we have learned one thing from this."

"What?"

"It doesn't just happen to you. It also happens to me, if I'm in a video on your channel. So I was right. The experiment worked."

Mona and I stared at each other through aching, bloodshot eyes. I stood up and helped her, wincing, to her feet.

"Yay us," I said.

"Okay," she acknowledged.

"Seriously," I said, "thank you. I can't believe what you did. You were right but you couldn't know what the risks were. But you did it anyway."

"It's what friends do," Mona said, picking up her panties and stepping back into them, a leg at a time. "Let's get some breakfast," she said.

"And then a facial."

"Or just a really hot shower," she said, "so that I can sit on the floor and hug my own knees and cry, like in the movies."

"Only if I can join you," I said, pulling on my own briefs.

"Deal," Mona said tiredly, slipping her bra back on.

We got dressed, and then we walked out of the glade, Mona's arm around my shoulder, mine around her waist, leaning on each other.

Two hours and one breakfast later we were indeed sitting naked in the shower in my house, she against the wall, me between her legs, she hugging me, both of us spent and aching and hollow-eyed as the water poured over us.

"So now what," I said.

"Now," said Mona, "we have to make another video. Something that people won't want to watch."

"Like Two Girls One Cup?" I said.

"No, Harriet," she said patiently, "people actually do want to watch that."

"Oh yeah."

"No, more like one of us ... giving a lecture on ... local government, or something."

"Or recycling."

"Yeah."

"Nobody's going to watch that," I said.

"That's the point," Mona said. "If we fill up his channel with enough shitty videos, nobody will watch it."

"I'm not so sure," I said. "It seems to me as long as the videos are up there, people are gonna watch 'em."

"I really think that my way is ..." Mona said, and stopped. I twisted my head around to look at her. She had a faraway, slightly dazed look on her face.

"Happening again?" I said.

"Yeah," she said, and I got out from between her legs and helped her up onto all fours and she turned so that her head was under the shower, and I held her hand and then she went "MmmmMMMNNNNGGHH! Oh FUCK! Aaaahhh!" and squeezed my hand.

"Is it one or more than one?"

"Just one," she gasped. "Feels like he has a really ... ahhh ... fat cock, though. He's in my ass. Oh God, I really don't like it when it's making you feel good about them doing this."

"I know," I said, "it's fucking evil."

Then her comment that the guy had a fat cock rang a bell, somewhere in my mind. I held Mona's hand and whispered to her as she grimaced and moaned and whimpered, as the ghost of the man with the fat cock fucked her ass, and when he pulled out I held her in my arms and listened to her sobbing and kissed her and hugged her and comforted her as she came down.

Then, even though it was by then nearly 8am, we went back to bed and lay there, exhausted and aching, damp and naked, she in my arms, and I felt Mona falling asleep, and soon I was asleep myself, with the indistinct figure in my mind's eye of a rich guy with a fat cock and expensive tastes in men's skincare products.