3 comments/ 14943 views/ 5 favorites All Too Real By: TheWorldSpins Author's Note: This story is not only a follow-up to "None of this is Real," but also set in the same college, one year after the events of "We Rule the School." You don't have to read either to get the idea, but a little context might help. ;) *** Before the party, Cindy Park was anxious. Her first two months of college had been an exhilarating blur of new experiences, liberally soaked in alcohol, of course. She had gotten in to Kappa Delta Alpha, the most sought after sorority on campus. Little did she know that the cost of getting in had been a bukkake show for the boys of Alpha Delta. Her own chapter president, Charlotte Baldwin, had sold her to the ADs to get plastered with cum, and even planned to reject her. Only the command of Alpha Delta's puppet master, Simon Chalfont, had gotten her admitted. All along, Cindy had believed it was just a prank: some artificial "cum" squirted from a squirt gun to trick her. To her, none of it was real. As the party began, Cindy was excited. She was dressed to kill: a lavender sequined spaghetti strap top with designer skinny jeans and black strappy heels from Calvin Klein. None of the guys would notice her impeccable taste, though: most of them would be staring at her tits. While she wished she had longer legs, bigger boobs, rounder eyes, and a firmer tummy, Cindy nevertheless knew she looked hot. A lot of the girls were turning heads, but she thought she could detect a little more attention from the boys on her than on anyone else. A few even turned and whispered to each other when she walked by. Cindy assumed they were just commenting on how good she looked. Once the drinks started to flow, she was in the mood. Her wavy hair, dyed caramel brown to make her stand out from other Asian girls, bounced up and down as she danced to the sounds of Daft Punk and Robin Thicke. Her body was tingling from the alcohol, and a sheen of sweat shone on her cleavage. Her smoky eyes surveyed the room during her brief respites from dancing, looking for the guy she was crazy over. When her crush, Will, came over to talk to her, she was giddy. She felt so nervous talking to him, but the alcohol loosened her up and gave her confidence. Will was so handsome and strong--way better looking than most of his brothers--and ever since he had helped her through her hazing, Cindy had fantasized about him. Now he was there, talking to her, offering her a bottle of water, so she wouldn't get too drunk in a room full of horny frat boys. What a gentleman. After Will led her up to his room, she was overwhelmed. On the one hand, she was thrilled that he had picked her out of all the girls at the party. She wanted him badly and hoped that tonight might be the start of a passionate fling--maybe even more. On the other hand, her sisters had filled her in on how to snag a boyfriend and not end up as a "pump and dump." The rules were simple: Sex only after dates. Handjobs were fine, but no blowjobs for first time hook-ups. Never more than one guy at a time. As soon as she took her clothes off, she felt self-conscious. Most guys acted like they were over the moon for her. Will played it cool, unimpressed. She knew he had seen her before, of course, but she still couldn't shake the feeling like he wasn't totally into her. She gave him a shy smile that seemed to get his attention. "I can't believe we're doing this," she said. "I can," was his reply. When Cindy took Will's cock into her mouth, she felt conflicted. She was breaking a rule: this wasn't a date, they had never gone out before, and yet she was blowing him. She wanted Will so bad, though, that she couldn't get hung up on the rules. Will lay back contentedly as she slid her lips up and down his engorged member. Her small hands pumped at the base of his shaft, until he pushed them away and used his hand on the back of her head to gag her on his thick pole. She started to choke, and pulled back with heavy ropes of thick saliva attached to Will's cock. She smiled weakly at him and took a few shallow breaths before he forced her beautiful face back into his crotch. The moment Will thrust his meaty cock into her tight Asian pussy, Cindy felt panic. She hadn't intended to go this far, but it was hard to say "no" to a guy like Will. Now here she was, bent over into a triangle, her ass in the hair and her head buried into a pillow. In a flash, Will was above her, ruthlessly pounding her pussy, not giving her a chance to slowly adjust. Though he might not have known (or cared), his powerful body was causing her as much pain as pleasure. When he slapped her ass, it made her whole body shake. When he pressed her face with one hand into the pillow and called her his "little yellow cum bucket," she felt humiliated and embarrassed. Didn't he like her? Only after she swallowed Will's cum, without any show of resistance or complaint, though, did Cindy understand. He looked down at her and told her she had a tight pussy, but that she'd need to do a better job blowing him if she wanted to see him again. He even told her he was disappointed, since most chink bitches were desperate to suck white cock and were natural pole smokers. For guys like Will, she was a collection of holes for his dick, a semen receptacle, a piece of Asian ass he could laugh about with his friends before boning some new slut. She saw herself in that moment as he saw her. Most of all, she recognized the taste of semen, a taste now so familiar to her. As she walked home that night, she spotted Charlotte coming out of the back entrance of the frat house, looking upset and disheveled. Everything clicked in her mind: that whole night, at the end of rush, had been real, all too real. Those guys had really jerked off onto her face. She really had swallowed their disgusting cum, though it hadn't seemed that bad at the time. Worst of all, everyone had lied to her: Will, Charlotte, probably even her "big sister" Mindy. Charlotte! She had to be the one behind this. She was in charge of rush. Cindy didn't know what to do with this kind of knowledge. At home, she lay on her bed, angry, humiliated, and on the verge of tears. She almost couldn't bear to look at the text she received as she lay there curled up, but she wanted to see who sent it. It was from Will. "great time fucking u 2nite. sullys turn next time--stretch ur asshole 1st" Cindy felt her whole body grow hot. Would he tell everyone? What would her sisters say? Hell, had this happened to all of them? She suddenly felt like joining Kappa Delta Alpha was the biggest mistake of her life. Will's message seemed more like a threat than a joke, too. Cindy sunk her head into her hands. How was she going to get out of this? *** THREE WEEKS EARLIER *** Charlotte Baldwin was terrified as she approached the Alpha Delta house. She was walking in, voluntarily, knowing that a house full of frat guys were about to cum on her face. She felt like she was going to throw up. Every cell of her body wanted to turn and run away, and only a greater fear of what that would mean kept her on the path to her own degrading fate. Greed, addiction, and a callous indifference to others had all contributed to bring her here. But most of all, Charlotte was delivering herself into the belly of the beast because of stubborn pride, a terror of being exposed to the sorority for what she had done and an even greater fear of facing punishment for it. She had sold Cindy to the Alpha Deltas, and they used deception about the hazing process to use her face for ejaculation target practice. Though Cindy never found out what happened, Charlotte still had to contend with Simon, who demanded she get the same treatment Cindy had, only this time without the blindfold. Charlotte thought about what would happen that night, even though she would have preferred not to. If she was lucky, the fraternity brothers would be the only ones there: they could've sold tickets for the right to jizz on the ice queen to half the guys on campus. If she was lucky, that was all they would do: once she got there, who was to say they would not all try to fuck her too? If she was lucky, it would all be over tonight: nothing stopped them from filming the whole thing and using it to extract more and more from her. She half-expected to find all the guys crowded around the door when she entered, but the entryway was empty, except for a Mexican guy she didn't recognize. She felt a sudden, knee-jerk fear: a minority was there! This night couldn't get much worse. "You the bitch for the blowbang?" he asked. Charlotte felt furious, to be talked down to by someone she saw as so inferior. What was he doing there anyway? She knew that, whatever horrors the Alpha Deltas were capable of, they would not go so far as to admit "the help" to their ranks. "Don't talk to me like that," she snapped. "Where's Simon?" "Hey, slow your roll, bitch. You don't want me pissed at you too," he said with a smirk. The man eyed her up and down. Charlotte was tall, almost 6'0", with a lean, toned body. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a French twist, and she had the refined look of a classic WASP: slightly pinched nose, pronounced cheekbones highlighted by the faintest of blush, a graceful, delicate jaw line. She also had flawless C-cup tits, enhanced by the best plastic surgeon in Westport. Charlotte glared at him, unsure of whether he was even supposed to be there. "Well, c'mon then, I'll take you down to him." She followed the brute down two stories, still without seeing a single AD brother. She entered an antechamber, where a pretty blonde girl was waiting on a sofa. "That her, baby?" she asked. Charlotte thought the girl looked faintly ridiculous. She was dressed like a cheap slut: one of those skimpy, sequined halter tops you'd find in a crappy mall store, in a hot pink color that only men would find attractive. Charlotte's tasteful couture and classic jewelry set her apart from street trash like this girl. The girl's skirt was too short, her heels too high, her hair too blonde, her tits too big, her lips too red: everything about the girl screamed to Charlotte that she was just another whore, for some Mexican no less. "Yeah, she's here for them fuckers to bukkake," he said, running his fingers through the slut's silky blonde hair. "She's pretty," the girl responded, "but she looks mean. Why's she going along with it?" Charlotte was sick of being treated like she wasn't even there. Who was this bitch to talk about her like that? "None of your business, bitch," she responded. "Why don't you go back to the whorehouse you came from and go fuck this ugly thing?" The blonde slut didn't flinch. "Oh, I will go home and fuck my boyfriend tonight. Meanwhile, you'll be glued to the floor with cum," she responded with cruel glee. "That's right--I know what 'bukkake' means." The blood drained from Charlotte's face. Everyone knew. "Still," the slut continued, her tone changing a bit, "you might want to go ahead and take those clothes off. If they see you in them, they're going to ruin them. They've seen plenty of tits--now they like making you go home in your clothes all covered in sperm. You're a bitch, but still, I'm only human." The tacky, unpleasant couple didn't wait for her to respond; the girl stood up, holding onto the guy's hand, and they left the room. Charlotte never once caught their names, though that wasn't much of a concern. No one came into the room for five minutes. Time passed slowly for Charlotte. She began to panic, again desperate to leave the house and never return. She knew what would await her: disgrace at Kappa Delt, probable arrest on drug charges, and then whatever other retribution that Simon would dream up. Just then, the wall-mounted television started playing something. At first it was just four black and white squares, each with the letter C, in the opposite color of the box inside. Then the sound started to kick in, dull and low at first, but increasingly audible. It was the sound of sex, at first like one girl, but intensifying to a cacophony of guttural moans, high pitched screams, and what sounded like the laughter of a roomful of men. The squares exploded, one at a time, the "c" becoming a word: College Coed Cumslut Compilation Then the year, 2014-2015 appeared, the previous academic year. The screen exploded into a burst of white and when the picture returned, a pretty, busty brunette was splattered with a thick, creamy load, right in her left eye. She barely had time to adjust before another blast of sticky cum coated her lips and chin. The video cut to another girl, a petite Asian beauty, grimacing in pain as a guy thrust into her from behind. He slapped her ass hard, and she immediately spun around to take a load of cum right into her mouth. The video continued like that, and Charlotte even started to recognize some of the girls. A couple of them were Kappa Delts. Some looked beyond wasted, others frightened, but they were all in the same position in the end: covered in semen. The worst for Charlotte was the laughter. As each girl was doused in slimy goo, laughter erupted. It was like seeing the same joke told over and over, the punchline always the same, and it killing every time. It never got old for these guys, humiliating girls by draining their balls into mouths and onto faces. Some of the girls were wearing clothes, too. Charlotte started to turn over the irritating slut's words. She had come to the house, after all, knowing that she'd probably be covered in cum. Taking off her clothes seemed like a good idea. At the same time, volunteering to undress, in an empty room no less, seemed too horrible to contemplate. The fear of cum ruining her $600 Kate Spade top, though, got the better of her. She was down to a sexy, but exquisitely tasteful matching set of bra and panties when the door finally swung open. Charlotte felt a sudden rush of embarrassment, as she'd almost gotten used to being alone. "I was beginning to think you'd back out," Simon said. "I'm glad to see you listened to Chastity. She's much smarter than you are." Charlotte was too afraid to let the comment make her too angry. She instinctively reached her arms up to cover her bra-clad breasts. "I've...I've changed my mind," she blurted out, without even thinking through the consequences. "I can't do this--it's too awful!" "I thought you might say that," Simon replied, not surprised in the least by her abrupt reversal. "It takes a certain kind of gutless whore to pimp out a pledge for coke money when you're already rich. I mean, do you see any of the guys around?" Charlotte was wounded by his words and readied her acid tongue for a stinging reply. She choked those words down, though, hoping to get out of Simon's little lair with her dignity intact. "So...could you just let this go?" she responded tentatively. Simon's eyes pierced her intensely. Charlotte knew it wouldn't be that easy. She uncrossed her arms from her chest and placed them on her hips, hoping to project a little confidence, maybe even defiance. "Well, I told myself that if you came here prepared to pay what you owe me, then I'd go easy on you. But, of course, you didn't. Now, I think you just don't respect me, do you?" Charlotte shook her head vigorously, unknowingly causing her tits to jiggle enticingly. Though not as bouncy as natural breasts, they still move better than most implants. "I do. It's just--I'm not like these other sluts. I just can't do that kind of thing. It's just so...disgusting," she said pleadingly. Simon ran his hand through his hair and for the first time really smiled. "I get it. These guys too low rent for you? Well, I want to hear your offers. What could you give me that I don't already have? I'll listen to whatever you've got to offer." Charlotte racked her brain, desperate for something to give Simon to keep him from humiliating her or destroying her future. She knew that without that, her life as she knew it was over: either she'd be booted from KDA and branded a skanky, backstabbing drug addict bitch, or she'd be the cheap cum slut punchline at every frat party. Anything was better than that. "I can get you more girls...I can get them to do whatever you want," she promised. "Right now, ten billion little Alpha Deltas are swimming around in some Kappa Delt slut's stomach. You saw the damn video--we can fuck any of you whores, anytime we want. What else?" "I can...pay you?" Simon rolled his eyes. "You've got to be joking. I paid you, dumbass. You think I just wanted interest? Is that all?" Charlotte thought hard. Everything depended on this. She was going to have to swallow her pride, and maybe more than that. "We could keep this between us. I mean, if I didn't have to...you know...with those other guys, then you could...I mean I would--" "--make all my wildest dreams come true? bring me to heights of sexual ecstasy? I doubt it," Simon replied wryly. "Still, it's better than what you've offered so far. I don't believe a word of it, but it's a start. Let me see what I'm buying." Charlotte stood frozen. Simon's face went from normal to beastly in a flash, though little changed about his flat, hard voice. "I said take your fucking clothes off and let me see your tits and your fucking pussy, slut." Charlotte flinched and hastily removed her last shreds of clothing. She made no effort to cover herself, nor to resist when Simon came over to her and began running his hands across her body. His firm hands began at her shoulders, running down over her breasts. He let his hands move downwards, across her taut stomach to her snatch, beginning at the top of the clit and continuing, insistently but never roughly, until he buried his middle finger to the second knuckle into her box. "Cunt's a bit loose, but the tits make up for it some. How's the O-ring?" Charlotte's head was swimming, and she didn't know how to respond. "I don't...what?" Simon spelled it out slowly, like he was talking to a child. "I asked you how tight the muscle in your asshole is. Is is stretched out from taking dick or do you still have your anal cherry?" Charlotte started to cry. "Please don't do that. I've never--" Simon didn't have time for her babbling. "OK, so I'd be the first cock in your ass. I like that. I'm going to take a guess and say you've never eaten pussy...but maybe, just maybe, you've gotten a few impressionable pledges under your skirt to go muff diving, huh?" Charlotte feared his reaction if she lied, but the embarrassment of admitting she'd gotten girls to pleasure her with their fingers and mouths was too much. "No," she swore, "never. I don't do that." Simon cocked an eyebrow. "You're lying. No matter, this is supposed to be private, right? I couldn't have you eating cunt all over campus, could I? No, I'd keep everything secret. That means no fraternity gangbangs, just daily anal poundings from me; no bukkake, but a daily dose of my cum. But you've also got to think, instead of getting it over with tonight, you're signing up for whatever I dish out. I mean, it's all just to keep your fucking reputation, right?" Charlotte felt so humiliated and ashamed. She knew he was right. The sadistic, soulless monster was right. That was exactly what she was going to do. "Yes, OK, yes!," she cried out. "You win. You're going to turn me into your slave and treat me like shit, and it's all so that people don't find out about me." Charlotte was bawling hysterically. From a haughty and arrogant bitch, she had broken down into a hopeless, submissive whore to Simon's will. Naked, in tears, pledging to allow Simon to violate her body as often and in whatever way he liked, though, she held on to the shred of pride that his pledge of secrecy promised. She could still be herself, be the powerful woman she had once been, in front of everyone else. All Too Real Simon could see the thread of pride, holding her together. He resolved to cut it. Grabbing Charlotte by the hand, he led her out of the entrance room and into a room set up like a bedroom. Wordlessly, he motioned to the bed, and she walked over to it and sat down on the edge. An exaggerated eye roll let her know instantly she should lay down. She did, trembling from the cold and from fear. "What is a secret?" Simon asked, waxing philosophical as he rolled a desk chair over from the other side of the room. "A tongue stud isn't secret, but nipple rings? They might be secret." Simon pinched both of Charlotte's nipples, not hard but not soft. It was enough to shock her back to full attention after the emotional whirlwind of the past few minutes. "I couldn't force you to eat a girl's pussy, but I could make you lick my asshole. That's secret. Maybe I'll turn you into my personal toilet, but pretend we've never even met to everyone I know." Charlotte shuddered at the thought. She felt so vulnerable, lying naked on the bed as Simon mused on all the ways he could torture and degrade her. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine it all away. When she opened them, he was leaning over her, holding an uncapped sharpie marker. "I suppose I couldn't write 'sperm bank' on your forehead, now, could I? But if I had a burning urge for poetry, there's plenty of space to write, isn't there?" She pleaded with Simon not to do it, but he began writing across her body, starting from her above her full, pendulous tits and continuing down to immediately above her snatch. He looked down, pleased. "Not my best work, but still...it's got style," he said appreciatively. "None of that free verse shit, either--I say, it's not good poetry if it doesn't rhyme." Charlotte couldn't take the suspense any longer. "Are you going to have sex with me?" she asked, once again breaking out into soft sobs. "Please just do it and stop torturing me." Simon shook his head. "Quite the slut, aren't you? I haven't decided yet. Maybe you should tell me what would be so great about it. I mean, there's a lot of pussy out there with a lot less attitude. What's so great about you, slut?" Charlotte realized she'd need to convince Simon to go along with her plan, or else she'd end up exposed. Even in her humiliated, emotional state, she kept enough of her wits to see how important it was to satisfy his sadistic lust. She began to run her hands up towards her chest, cupping her tits as if to offer them to him. "I've got fabulous breasts, the best money can buy," she said, her voice beginning in a whimpering stutter but slowly changing to a seductive purr. "Unlike most of the whores around Armstrong, my pussy is still tight. I'll even get it waxed for you. You can fuck me anyway you want, any time. I'll be all yours." Charlotte knew she'd have to go further, though. She rolled over, onto her hands and knees, sticking her ass out. "No man has ever put his cock in my ass, and after you, no one else will. My ass will only belong to you, and I'll beg for it and scream your name when you shove your dick deep inside me. You can cum inside me, wherever you want. I'll swallow your sperm. I'll crawl on my hands and knees and beg for it. And it won't be some dumb slut doing this--it will be the hands-down best woman on this campus." Charlotte rolled back onto her back, and spread her pussy lips apart with one hand, while fingering her clit with the other. Her body did the trick, making her wet. She took her slick fingers into her mouth, sucking them slowly, while her glistening pussy flooded with natural juices. "If you want me in a dog collar, I'll wear a dog collar. If you want me in chains, I'll be in chains. If you want me dressed like a whore, I'll dress like the dirtiest whore you've ever seen." Her fingers were working magic, and she hoped she could cum for him, show him how her body would respond to him. It was getting hard for her to speak through the moaning. "Just...take...me..." She felt herself let go, a wave of pleasure wash over her. Her legs twitched and kicked just a little as she came, her breathing heavy, chest heaving. She could almost forget that she was naked in front of a man she hated, covered in magic marker, begging to be his sex slave just to keep him from ruining her life. In that brief moment, she almost thought that her body, her sex might give her control over Simon, as if he were just some horny boy under her sway. In a rare show of something approaching kindness, he let her cum before dashing those illusions. "Not interested." Charlotte felt like all the air had left the room. She suddenly felt something more than naked--exposed to her very core. She found herself unable to speak. Simon beckoned her to get up from the bed with his fingers, and she obeyed. Then he pointed to the ground, and she fell to her knees. "Right now," he told her, "you're going to suck my cock. In exchange, you get...nothing." He pulled Charlotte's head forward until his erect dick parted her lips. "You're going to get me off with your mouth, and it's not for my silence, or to pay a debt. No, your going to use that pretty mouth on my cock because that's the only purpose you have on this fucking earth. You didn't know who you were until my dick touched your tonsils. Then it all started to make sense for you." Charlotte retched a bit when Simon's cock reached the back of her throat. It was clear that her discomfort was not his concern, though, so she tried her best to accommodate his cock, to make her throat accept the painful violation. Thankfully, her mouth was filling up with saliva to ease his rod's passage into her. "I'm not going to trade you anything for this, because I already own you," he continued. "And I don't give a shit about your reputation, except for the fact that I have a better idea what to do with you." Simon pulled her head as far it could go and used his cock to completely cut off her air. Her face turned red, and she was afraid she would pass out. When he finally withdrew from her mouth, she felt a strange, unfamiliar emotion: gratitude. "When you get home, I want you to look at yourself, really look at yourself in the mirror. Ask yourself why you thought you were so fucking perfect. Think hard about how you ended up here, on your knees with a face full of my cock." Simon was working up a furious rhythm, sawing in and out of her mouth, withdrawing his cock until only the head remained inside Charlotte's warm, wet mouth, before burying his dick up to the hilt into her spasming throat. Never once did she bring her hands up to stroke his cock, to make it all go faster and easier. She simply took his punishment, unable to even to shed tears any longer. Her only desire was for him to climax, to fill her mouth with his seed, to end this punishment. "You should just go ahead and admit that you want this," he said, withdrawing his cock completely from her mouth. "Don't you?" Charlotte stared at Simon's saliva-soaked cock. She knew he was right--despite his abuse, she felt...right. She had always been attracted to power and to being the best. Now she had met power face to face, though it didn't look like anything she had ever seen before. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes. Please cum on me." Simon stroked his dick once, twice, then exploded over her face, coating her with a layer of sticky, slimy jizz. She reached her tongue out to taste him, to savor his seed. her tongue lingered at the head of his cock, bathing it with her warmth, before sliding her mouth back down onto his member to clean him. Naked, her face splattered with semen, without the slightest guarantee that Simon wouldn't force her that very night to service all of his fraternity brothers, Charlotte was reduced as low as she had ever been. She had nothing to trade, nothing to offer. The woman who ruled over the campus's most exclusive sorority was gone, at least for a time. Whoever was left was someone else, molded by fear and stripped of illusions. All that remained was to beg for mercy. She reached out and grabbed Simon's hand, a gesture that surprised even him. Looking up into his eyes, she saw not cruelty, but coldness and distance. She would never move him by emotions, but there was still hope he might find a reason to spare her the indignity of turning her into a whore for the whole fraternity. "Please don't make me fuck your brothers," she begged. "I'm sorry I thought I could make deals with you. You're right--you do own me already. You don't owe me anything. Just...I can't live with myself if everyone here knew. I'd rather die than become some whore passed around from guy to guy." Simon knew he had bumped up against the outer reaches of what would be possible with a girl like Charlotte. Right now she was humbled, but set free to return home, her sense of self would return. Familiarity had that effect. But if he really turned her into another one of his public jizz receptacles, available for all the brothers' desires, she really might snap. He'd seen it happen before. Fortunately, that had never been his intentions. Now was the time to show control and even a bit of mercy. He reached down to stroke her hair, holding her chin up to meet his gaze. "You really are pretty, you know? I think you might be too good for these dickheads. Get dressed, wipe the cum off your face, and go home. Remember what I told you--really take a look at yourself in the mirror. You'll know what to do then." Charlotte climbed up from her knees, a bit wobbly, and turned towards the door. Simon's voice froze her. "You know, I ditched my girlfriends from last year. I'm looking for new cover, help me look normal to Mr. and Mrs. Public. You up your game and learn to suck a cock, and I might even put you in the running as girlfriend material." Hurried is not a strong enough word to capture how quickly Charlotte got ready and escaped the Alpha Delta house. At home, safely ensconced in her little world, she could cry again. Thankfully, no one had seen her, allowing her to preserve a shred of dignity. She knew she might have broken down sobbing if anyone had so much as asked her what time it was. Charlotte stood before her full-length mirror, staring deep into her own reflection. She saw herself, beautiful but for the smeared make-up and red puffy eyes, remnants of crying. What she didn't see was the imperious air of power, the superiority that made her callous towards the fate of others. She realized for the first time that Simon was what she had thought of herself before: he really was the powerful, heartless, superior being that she had only imagined herself to be. Yet she didn't see what she was supposed to see, or at least what she thought she was supposed to see. What were Simon's plans? He told her that her debt wasn't paid, that she still owed him. He also told her, though, that she wouldn't be part of any fraternity gangbang, oral or otherwise. What was the next step? Suddenly it dawned on her. He had written on her in marker. She removed her shirt and bra and looked into the mirror. Though the words were now backwards, she could still understand the message. It wasn't a poem at all. From her tits to her crotch, she read it out to herself: "Friday, 1:30 PM @ the Snowy Pine Club in Stowe. Look classy on the outside, whore underneath. No current ADs there." Underneath the message, Simon had left his signature in cursive, personalizing his act of owning her body and ordering her compliance to his will. This was far from over.