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Drinking his sister's milk wasn't enough - not nearly enough.

The headlights above twisted and turned the moods as they wished, treating the thrashing figures below as if they were but mere flesh puppets for their manipulation and Nikki was no different. She in fact wanted to be steered, for they moved her toward a higher good unseen by those unaffected.

She writhed on the floor, feeling the hot flashes of wanton desires and feelings of liberation. Her eyes were useless, clouded by the swirling haze and the eyelids remaining clenched in the salute to "One Love." Hands passed by her, stroking her skin, rubbing her hair gently and even running delicate fingertips up her bare calves. She appreciated the gestures, smiling coyly and cooing softly, uttering a moan that hopelessly lost itself in the thunderous din of sound erupting all around. The frenetic gesticulations ebbed and flowed with the DJ's every beat. Unknown to Nikki, one of them took an interest in her directly and performed a most unusual experiment.

The crowd was growing in number, people throwing themselves into the throes regardless of drug intake or need for stimulation. In the center was Nikki, arms flailing and her face sweaty from exertion and hormonal overload. She was clad in a short miniskirt and tight haltertop with tight pink stacks and glittery jewelry. The room became tight, packed with the increasingly sweaty faces of woman and man alike, closing in on her and growing bolder in their strokes and light brushes against her. Quite unknown to her, she became the center of attention, the pulsating lights aiming at her directly and pointing to her as a shining point of light.

The crowd became eager to feel the light on them. The music turned dark, turning from flighty sounds of light, trippy bliss into dark grinding industrial metal that soured the happy dispositions of many and stoking the coals of pent-up sexual aggression in Jackson into a raging fire of blatantly overt gropes and deliberate stripping of her clothing piecemeal.

At first, she wasn't quite able to understand just what was occurring. Her own visions from the dual doses of X intrigued her, the focused attention of many turning literally into "One Love." She was conscious of many hands on her, groping at times forcefully and at times seductively all about her body. A great many men and women ground their legs or erections into her thighs, cupping her breasts and nuzzling the nape of her neck. One set of hands raised her skirt, cupping her ass roughly and in an instant, her tiny panties tore away into the smoke. The smoke covered most of her nudity in a gray-hued mass of dusky strobe-lites and raw psychedelic intensity. Women dove into her face, running hot tongues over her cheeks and drawing her nipples into tight, tingly focal points of attention. Hands swirled over her body coarsely, the amphetamine-driven guitar riffs and manic screams of lusty degradation from the amplifiers pounding home the innate need to defile her.

Her blouse ripped from her, the sweaty skin beneath exposed to the air and cooling instantly.

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