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We Rule the School Ch. 01

By: TheWorldSpins



"At Armstrong, we welcome people from every race, class, gender, sexual orientation, religion, and part of the world. Being a welcoming environment for people to discover their diverse passions is just a part of who we are!" 

Javier felt about as welcome as an anal wart around these people. Listening to the orientation counselor gushing about Armstrong College, Javier thought he might as well be on the moon. The campus was greener, the buildings fancier, and the people richer than anything he had ever seen. Growing up in Chicago, he might not have been in the worst of the hood, but it had given him plenty of opportunities to get into and out of trouble. A scholarship to Armstrong College had been his ticket out of a life of manual labor and probably jail, and he took it despite his misgivings about leaving home and going to the middle of nowhere, Vermont.

Mentally checking out from the rambling discussion of rules about alcohol, or date rape, or recycling, or whatever, a girl caught his eye across the walkway. The first thing he noticed was her tits, straining to get out of the tight, blue sweater she was wearing. Her legs were thick in all the right places like he liked too—not like those spindly bitches he saw setting up a table for the "Peace Activism Society" on the quad. No, this girl was stacked, the kind of girl who'd always have to worry about getting fat when she got older, but for now was perfectly built for fucking. 

Her brown hair was long and straight, down to the middle of her back, and she wore those glasses that Javier though must have been just issued to white college chicks with the black rectangular frames. The light freckles on her face gave her a look of innocence that belied her body, which was anything but. "April" – her name tag, stuck right above her left breast, gave Javier an excuse to linger a bit in his gaze over her ample tits. Not well versed in specific cup sizes, Javier was content to decide in his mind that they officially qualified as "big ass titties," real mouthfuls. Afraid he was going to get caught or, worse, pitch a tent in front of everyone, he looked away.

"Tonight's orientation event is going to be great. A cultural program with food and dance from around the world. Hopefully all of you can express your own unique cultures tonight!"

He found, however, that he couldn't control himself. As the group entered the foyer of the immense building, he slowed up to be able to watch her from behind. She had to have been poured into those tight jeans, he thought. Her ass was plump and round, while her waist was still nice and small. Damn! Javier had already begun to set her titties free in his mind when the voice of one of the counselors startled him back to consciousness.

"This one's yours, ummm, let's see here, Javier Cardenal."

The counselor pronounced his name with that exaggerated Spanish that always meant some asshole was trying to sound "authentic." He wondered if the counselor ordered Mexican food in the same stupid accent. Hell, he wondered if you even could order Mexican food here in the isolated town. 

Javier wasn't all that Mexican anyway—the name stuck because of his grandfather, his father's father, but otherwise he was as white as most of the students there at Armstrong—Irish Catholic, in fact. The name, though, did mean diversity to the school, and Javier's impoverished background, in addition to his remarkable test scores and good grades meant he had a full ride to a prestigious New England liberal arts school.

After dropping his things off in the room, not failing to notice just how little he had compared to everyone else, Javier went out into the hallway. He heard the other new people milling around. Classes would be starting in a week, but some freshmen had already started to arrive for an early start to orientation. For scholarship students like him, it meant free food and a place to stay. Staying in this dorm was only temporary; some of them would rush fraternities, others move into dorms, maybe even an apartment here and there. Yet most of his classmates didn't seem very hard up; probably just here to get away from mommy and daddy to party, he thought to himself. The idea of partying with the new girl didn't sound half bad. 

In the hall, Javier met a handful of his neighbors on the fourth floor. With the exception of two Asian girls named Hannah and Wei Lin, he was the only "non-white" person on the hall out of 16. Guess diversity ain't that important, he thought. Javier had never had "yellow fever" like the white boys back home, but he could appreciate a hot bitch from around the globe. Javier thought of his dick as "equal opportunity," and Hannah—short and slender, with gorgeous almond eyes and long, silky black hair—only needed to give Javier the opportunity, and he would give her the ride of her life. Wei Lin could watch, if she wanted to stroke herself off.

Aside from those two, he met a smattering of people from all over, even a Chicago girl, Claire, though she came from the North Side and went to private school. Claire was cute in a young kind of way—like Hannah lithe and slender, Claire just didn't give off the same sensual vibe. Although they shared the same hair color, Claire was like the anti-April: short, thin, and flat as a board. Still, her girlish smile and game attitude made Javier like her immediately. They playfully fought a bit over the Sox vs. Cubs, but that kind of thing only made him feel a bit more at home. 

Even among friendly and outgoing people, he felt out of place and on edge. What's more, attending the Cultural Awareness Party sounded like a fucking nightmare. If I see a fucking serape, he thought, I'm gonna punch someone. But he had learned a few things in town earlier and figured he might be able to turn a dull night into something more interesting. Leaning over towards April, he broke the ice the best way he knew how. 

"I can get us beer."

"Really," she said, face brightening. "That'll be great, let me tell Kent and the others." 

Before he could ask who Kent was, a blonde, floppy-haired, tall white guy in an IZOD shirt walked over. Javier tried to think of someone who looked like a bigger dick in his mind than this guy, but drew a blank. 

"Hey, this guy isn't bothering you, is he?"

"You're joking, right! Kent, this is Javier. He says he can get us some beer." 

Javier noticed Kent's hand on the small of April's back. 

"Hey, man, I'm just playing with you. I'm Kent, bro. So you gonna get us some beers, huh?"

Javier could feel the hairs stand up, just a little, on the back of his neck. 

"Yeah, Kent," –Javier lingered venomously on his name— "that's exactly what I'm gonna do."

"How are you going to bring them in with the counselors watching?," April asked. 

She seemed a bit in awe of such a daring criminal operation, and Javier thought his bravado might provide an in with her. He also thought he could see the outline of her nipples in the tight top she was wearing.

"I don't think these guys are a fucking crack security force. You've dealt with worse, right Javier?"

Javier didn't speak for a second. He hadn't come all the way to college to have things go like this, like they always did. For a second his mind flashed to an image of himself, stomping Kent's face in the ground. But he had learned to control his feelings after almost ending up in juvie, and he composed himself. He found it easier to control his feelings a bit if he avoided looking at Kent's popped collar or where his left hand was.

"Don't worry about me. I've got everything covered."

***

That night, Javier had put the little incident behind him and was starting to open up a bit. Claire was cute: good body, though a little shy. He liked talking to her about shit from back home, though, and he could see a little spark from her too. The others seemed fine too, although they asked too many questions about where he came from for his liking. It didn't matter. Javier had one eye on April all night.

"You like?," he asked her, motioning to the bottle of Miller High Life he had provided.

Taking a swig, she nodded her head and smiled. She had sipped it too fast, and now a trickle of beer went down her chin. Smiling broadly, she wiped her face with the side of her hand.

"So good. How'd do you do it—fake ID?"

April had changed into a short maroon dress, not too tight, but still showing off her body. The stiff breeze caused it to billow a bit at the bottom, and Javier started to wonder if he should try to kiss her.

"Naah, you just gotta know who to see. "

Javier took a sip from his own beer and lit a Newport. 

"So where you from?, " he asked her, inhaling slowly.

"Kansas City," she said. "The big one, not the little one."

While a couple of people around wrinkled their noses in displeasure at Javier's smoking, April seemed cool. Javier's impression was confirmed when she wordlessly lifted her eyebrow and looked at his cigarette. Javier didn't need to say anything either. He fished out a cigarette and handed it to April, giving her a light. That went well, he thought.

"Not one of these New York rich kids?, " he asked.

"Nope! But they seem alright. There're people from all over here, not just America. Have you met Stefi? From Düsseldorf?"

Javier actually had met Stefi. She had eaten Hannah's pussy in a little scene he composed in his mind waiting in line for beer.

"Oh yeah, from Germany. Fuckin' cool."

April laughed adorably. She took a long slow drag off the Newport, doing her best to imitate Javier in voice and mannerism.

"Fuckin' cool."

Javier drifted in and out of the little conversational groupings that spontaneously emerged in the next hour or so, never straying too far from April. To his disgust, though, Kent was also a constant presence, whom he mostly avoided engaging. Sick of hearing about snowboarding or something called Choate, Javier finally resolved to put into action another plan of his formed the second he saw Kent's Rolex at the morning orientation. To Javier, wearing such a gaudy thing, especially by just a kid, like Kent, was unreal. No one he knew even wore a watch at all, and this rich boy shows up to college with something that cost more than his Uncle Tito's car on his wrist.

When Kent arrived at the party, though, Javier noticed Kent without the Rolex. He must have left it in his room. Kent was obviously just as focused on April as Javier, and that should occupy him for a while. If he could just break into Kent's room, and swipe the watch before anyone noticed, he'd have a good chunk of change to start the semester. Javier had plans, but he needed the cash to get them off the ground.

It wasn't hard to slip away from the party, considering how drunk the lightweight freshmen had gotten. Javier figured he'd only need ten minutes or so to make it back up to the fourth floor, where his and Kent's rooms were. The lock should be easy; he'd scoped it beforehand and knew it shouldn't take longer than five minutes. Once he had the watch stashed, he'd make his way back to the party and helpfully remind everyone he'd been there all along. A rich asshole like Kent would never miss it.

Everything was going to plan, until Javier heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Ducking into Kent's room, he listened intently to discover who was approaching.

"Not yet, we're almost there," the female voice said. "No! Stop it!" 

"Damn. You're drivin' me crazy, babe."

It was Kent—Javier panicked a bit before spotting a place to hide, the closet across from the bed. In his haste, he dropped his cigarette, and stamped it out quickly to avoid leaving too obvious a sign of his presence. He started to pick it up when he heard the voices right outside the door and dove into the closet. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to stand, but fit himself in just in the nick of time, as the door swung open and Kent entered with a girl. 

"I just want to see it," the girl said. "Then we've got to go back!"

"That's what she said! " Kent interjected, as if he had just now invented that tired joke.

Javier was surprised to hear the girl laugh and even more surprised when she entered his field of vision—it was April.

"I just want to see what you've been talking about, " she said.

Kent opened a letter and showed her. 

"See, it's good news. I'm Alpha Delta now. Know what that means? If you're with me, you can drink what you want, party where you want. Hell, we even have don't worry about grades. We rule the school!"

"That's great, Kent. You would help me out like that?"

"Of course, babe. I know we just met but I have, like, a really good feeling about you."

Javier could see Kent step forward, putting his hands on April's shoulders. 

"There's just one thing I need."

With that he firmly pushed April to her knees. She got the hint, and he didn't have to force her much more from there. Unzipping his pants, she pulled out his cock and started licking around the head. She was certainly no expert, tentatively feathering his cock with little licks. She seemed to be a bit nervous about taking the thing in her mouth. After a minute or two, Kent interrupted her.

"I'm going to lay down, babe. Come up here on the bed, but don't stop doing what you're doing."

When the two of them switched places, Javier could no longer see Kent well, as the bed faced the closet where he was hiding. What he could see perfectly was April's luscious round ass, just visible as her dress had been hitched up around her waist. Kent's hand snuck from around her side to firmly caress her ass cheeks as she blew him. After a minute or two of April lightly tonguing his cock and taking the tip in her mouth, Kent was ready to fuck her. April stripped off her dress once and for all, revealing to Javier that her bra matched the lavender satin bikini cut panties she was wearing. Snapping it in the back, Kent freed her full but perky tits from confinement, taking a nipple into his mouth immediately. So distracted by her tits was Kent that April took the initiative to slide her now soaked panties off by herself.

Clumsily, Kent all but collapsed on top of April, sliding his small cock, wet with saliva into her inviting pussy. April shifted in place to try to position herself so that Kent's dick might rub against her clit. Once she found the right spot, her enthusiasm grew.

"Oh yeah, right there, baby, give it to me!," she said encouragingly, though a little self-conscious at fucking Kent on the first day of orientation. Hopefully, he would be her ticket to social status and success at Armstrong. 

"You're so big," she lied.

That Kent believed her was a testament to his own ego. Despite his athletic build and multi-sport career in prep school, Kent just lacked the natural coordination to fuck April with any rhythm. What's more his four-inch cock had mostly proven inadequate to most girls. Kent usually fucked virgins in high school, though, which allowed him to believe he was really filling them up. 

Javier was too far away, though, to notice Kent's puny cock as he humped April, grinding into the nubile young co-ed. Since all he could see at this point was Kent, still clad in his khakis, pounding away at her, Javier closed his eyes. Focusing on his breathing, he tried to calm himself down so that he wouldn't give his location away. What if Kent needed something out of his closet? How would he explain his presence? Would they kick him out of school immediately? Javier tried to put those thoughts out of his mind. He had to focus and let the situation play itself out to get out alive.

In the meanwhile, Kent and April kept at it, with their moans and the wet, squishing sounds of April's pussy covering up any noise Javier might have made. Mauling her tits with his left hand while holding himself up with his right, Kent bent down to kiss her.

"You're so hot, babe. I'm gonna cum. We gotta switch."

With that as warning, Kent pulled his cock out of April's pussy and rolled over for her to get on top and ride him. Now in control, April could regulate the pace and position of Kent's thrusting. Kent couldn't complain either, as April's gorgeous tits jiggled in front of him as she rocked her hips in time, impaled on his dick. Javier opened his eyes, as April again became visible. He felt his cock grow rigid as he watched her, her back glistening with sweat as she thrusted her hips against Kent's dick. Her long brown hair was partially matted to her back and shoulders, while Kent's hands held on to her waist.

April fucked like a lot of girls, Javier thought, never withdrawing Kent's cock far from her pussy. Instead, she kind of circled her hips, grinding on him and using the angle of her back to make sure that he stimulated her clit, since his cock wasn't going to fill her up and make her cum otherwise. Where Kent had been clumsy and arhytmic, though, April had a natural gift for moving her body in an unmistakeably sexy and hypnotic manner. Javier, no virgin himself, even felt a little pre-cum leaking into his boxers.

After what felt like hours but could only have been ten minutes, she started to cum, her body tensing up before dropping herself low, pressing her tits against Kent's chest and panting until the wave of pleasure subsided.

Almost immediately after April came down, Kent grabbed her with both arms and rolled her back over. Again on top, he pumped as hard as he could, once, twice, three times, before pulling his dick out and aiming it squarely at April's face. Without warning he fired an arcing rope of jizz that struck her first on her upper lip, before trailing down across her mouth onto her chin. His next blast went to the side; she was lucky it didn't go into her hair, instead tracing a line of cum from her eyelid to her cheek. After those two, only thin, watery spurts came out, dribbling onto her tits and mingling with the sweat and saliva already there.

"Ohhhh, gross!," she said. "Why did you that?!? I've got cum all over me now!"

"Total accident, babe. Won't happen again." 

Javier could see the smirk on Kent's face. Fucker's proud of himself.

"Did I get it all? There isn't a mirror in here."

Kent looked her over. There was still a few droplets of cum at the corners of her left eyelid. 

"Yeah, looking great, babe."

She dressed while Kent wiped his cock off on a dirty t-shirt nearby. He stuffed his member back into his pants like nothing happened, and gently slapped April, who was still getting dressed, on her firm ass.

"You look hot. Let's get back out there."

April adjusted her dress and tried her best to fix her hair. After what seemed like an eternity, they left to return to the party. Javier finally exhaled. Spying the watch, he quickly tucked it in his pants pocket and quietly left the room. Slipping back into the party, Javier mixed around, making sure people saw him and would remember him. When April caught his eye, he smirked knowingly, as the light caught the remaining cum on her face and glimmered just enough to notice.

***

Heading home the next day after meeting with his fence, Javier felt bit ambivalent about the previous day's events. He had the five grand he needed to start his plans for college, but felt a pang of jealousy. He hadn't known what a slut April would turn out to be, and part of him wished he had stuck around and boxed Kent out. I could have been in that ass, he told himself, even as part of him knew that he didn't have Kent's wealth, watch or not. There was even a small part of himself that felt bad—not for stealing the watch per se, but rather for not taking the chance to go clean and make a fresh start at the elite college. The admissions essay his "girlfriend" had written for him (Javier's friends couldn't understand why he was fucking that nerdy chick until he got the acceptance letter) had described his journey of redemption from the streets to the hallowed halls of academia. Had he read it, he might have been moved himself. But he did know how his grandmother had beamed with pride and part of him felt like he had let her down.


We Rule the School Ch. 01



Lost in his thoughts a bit, he didn't notice the group of burly frat brothers in hoodies coming up on him from behind. 

He felt immediate pain in the back of his knees as a lacrosse stick struck him without warning, sending him tumbling to the ground. Sprining to his feet he, prepared to fend off the attack. He swung at the first guy he could reach, but there were simply too many of them. Three of them, each at least as strong as Javier was, held him in place while Kent, the only one he recognized, got in his face.

"I knew it was you! How'd you even get into this school anyway, some kind of affirmative action for Mexicans bullshit?"

He punched Javier in the stomach once. Hit me where there's bone, thought Javier, it'd probably break your wrist. Reaching into Javier's pocket, Kent pulled out the stack of rubber-banded bills he'd gotten for Kent's Rolex.

"Oh yeah, that's it. Fucking beaner thinks he can steal from me?"

Kent uppercut Javier once more. Javier was afraid he might throw up, which would be humiliating in front of these guys.

"We're gonna fuck you up. I'm callin' Chad, and he'll decide what we're gonna do to you."

Kent spoke in quick, hushed tones Javier couldn't hear.

"He says to bring him to the house, to the basement."

"You hear that, motherfucker?" one of the brothers spat. "You're fucking dead!"

Javier realized he had gotten cocky assuming these rich boys would be soft. Since he didn't grow up around frat brothers, he hadn't clued in to their reputation for sadism, especially at Armstrong, whose Greek system dominated the school. He was thrown into the trunk and driven into a fenced-in backyard. There, he was roughly pulled out and lead through the entrance of the immense fraternity house down into the sub-basement, below the room where the brothers held most of their regular weekend parties. 

There he saw two more frat brothers: one tall and dark-haired with a cold, blank expression, the other medium-height, with sandy brown hair and a pained, almost embarrassed expression. 

"When can I start to beat this bitch down?," Kent asked.

"Never," answered the unhappy one. Javier figured that must be Chad, the fraternity's president. "The freshman wants him."

"Who?" Kent wondered. After all, he was a freshman now too, and rush wasn't for another three weeks. How could there be a freshman member, and why would Chad defer to him like this?

"Me," said the second boy. "It was a Rolex Submariner—the one with the green dial, right?"

Kent was surprised and confused why he knew so much about the watch.

"I'm sure Javier would be happy to replace your watch and let you keep the money he made off selling it. Right, Javier?"

Javier knew he didn't have that kind of money, but he also thought he might have a chance to escape if he told these guys what they wanted to hear.

"Yeah, sure, no problem man. Just a... misunderstanding."

Kent wasn't satisfied with being denied his chance for revenge.

"You're really going to listen to this kid, Chad?"

Before Chad could speak, the freshman responded. 

"Yes he is, and so will you. You don't know me yet...Kent, is it? That's why I'll forget about this attitude. You and I can be friends or enemies, and I don't want to be your enemy. You're going to get your watch, the money. I'll even owe you a favor. That sounds like you're coming out ahead."

A smarter man might have taken the offer.

"I don't want your fucking money, and I could buy a hundred new watches. I'm not going to forget about him, and I'm not going to forget about you. I can pledge Delta Ep. I don't need to be in a frat where the president gets bossed around by a fucking freshman." 

Kent stormed out of the house. The other brothers stayed behind.

"Good," said the freshman. "So he's out, you're in. Let me talk to our friend here. We have a lot to discuss."

***

The freshman's room was unlike any Javier had seen. Even the poorest people in the hood had a poster on the wall, a few tacky old knick-knacks, or a beer sign for decoration. The freshman's room was white, blank, cold. Except for the unmade bed, it looked like no one had ever lived there.

"Hey man," he said, hoping to break the uncomfortable silence. "What's your name?"

"Simon," the freshman responded. "And yours is Javier Cardenal. From Chicago. You stole Kent's watch and sold it in a day. That tells me you know where to go and who to talk to. It also tells me that you might be able to help me with an idea I had."

"What's that?"

"I need someone who knows things. I'm someone who can do things. I'll bet you can do things, too," he said obliquely. 

Javier could do things.

"You know, I couldn't have paid that asshole back. I don't have that kind of money." 

"Oh, I know you don't now," Simon replied. "But you could, if you had some money to start. Which is what you were up to, right?"

Javier nodded.

"I don't want you to steal anymore, and I don't want you to get kicked out of school. I also don't want you to ever harm a brother here. Kent wasn't really in yet, even though he was a legacy. Now he's gone and that means I don't care what happens to him."

Simon lowered his voice and tried to affect a friendly tone, though Javier wasn't fooled. 

"We can't let you in for obvious reasons, but you and I can work together here on campus."

Javier could only assume why the fraternity couldn't let him in. 

"First, I want to know if you can get something, something that's hard to find, if you had the money. Can you get F?"

Javier was stunned. Not many people had even heard of F. Kent's watch, the five grand—it was all part of his plan to try to score a bit and sell it to these rich bitches. Now this kid was asking for it by name.

"Shit, actually, yeah. I got a boy in Boston. I know him from Chicago. He's hooked into where they first made that shit. How you hear of it?"

"I heard from one of my father's... girlfriends. She can't get enough of it. And I know what it can do as well."

Javier had only once or twice seen its effects, but he knew its potency and the rumors that spread that summer. "F" was one of the street names of Effitol, a stronger, more expensive version of ecstasy, except with much more strongly sexual side-effects. When Simon saw his father's whore take it on vacation in Ibiza, he watched her eyes go glassy and her mind leave her. It had been like she had roofied herself for the high, and Simon had fucked her in her stupor without her ever being the wiser. When he saw her cumming and cumming from the combined effects of Effitol and his cock, he glimpsed a possibility that intrigued him.

"F is the key to owning this campus. And only we can get it. I'm going to give you fifty grand, and you're going to bring me back everything I can get."

Javier was taken aback when Simon passed him a thick file envelope. He had never held so much money at once.

"Not to sound ungrateful and all," he asked, "but what's my cut of this operation, you know? You put up the money, OK, but I'm doing the work. Hey, I don't know how I'm supposed to sell all this shit."

Simon smiled, but the smile sent a shudder down Javier's spine. 

"I think you've misunderstood. All of this is for me. Some of it may be sold, but not by you. I can give you money for your time and effort, but I also have something else better in mind. You bring me the Effitol and I'll show you what you can get out of this partnership. For now, though, you need to stick around here and go through orientation. Like I said, I need you to stay in school here."

"Yeah, I can do that, but what about fucking Kent. He didn't sound too happy and soon he'll have boys at his back."

Simon shook his head. "Don't worry. He won't be a Delta Ep until Hell Week is over. We've got plenty of time to set our own plan in motion. How soon can you get the Effitol?"

Javier considered giving an optimistic answer, but figured that he should be cautious. There was something about Simon's impassive, cold demeanor, as well as the way he completely had dominated Chad, that suggested that he wasn't a person to be disappointed.

"I'll need three weeks."

"Then I'll talk to you in three weeks."

***

Javier was terrified as he drove back to campus. In his trunk was enough Effitol to send him away for a long time on trafficking charges. He wasn't sure he could trust Simon, either, who was after all only a kid really. Could he guarantee Javier's safety? He had spent the last three weeks on edge, worrying about Kent's threats of revenge as well. Fortunately, Kent had been busy with his new girlfriend April and had appeared to move on. While April and Javier had both moved into new dorm rooms across campus, Kent had moved into the Delta Ep house when rush started. Still, he was always around, staying in April's room and glowering at Javier whenever they saw each other in the hall. Moreover, classes had begun, and April was in Javier's history lecture along with 400 of their closest friends—Simon was too. She seemed to go out of her way to avoid looking at him. Javier, though, couldn't erase the memory of Kent coating her face with cum, or the way her titties bounced while she rode Kent's cock. Javier wasn't expecting to do that well on the history test, unless it was a multiple choice exam about which holes of April's he wanted to stuff.

Now on the way home, he wondered what the plan was and what his part in it would be. The morning sun was blinding, and he struggled to see the motel signs in the unfamiliar part of town where he was sent. He wasn't sure why he was going so far from campus—surely Simon lived in the Alpha Delta house now. Finally, he met Simon at the motel room they had pre-arranged.

"I can assume you have what I'm waiting for, right?," he asked.

"It's all there. Now what?" Javier was nervous.

"I want you to stay here. Order food, watch TV, do whatever you want. In the future, we won't have to come all the way out here, but for now I think this is best."

"Where are you going?"

"I have one loose end to tie up, and then you'll see me tonight. I'll bring your reward and we can talk about the future."

Javier hated how cryptic Simon could be, but he knew that so far he had never let him down. All that day, though, he was incredibly anxious, waiting to see when Simon would finally return. No amount of TV or even weed could chill him out as he bided his time in the motel.

At around 9:00 PM, Javier heard a knock on the door. Without thinking, he bolted to the door and through it open, hoping to see Simon with a bag full of cash. What he saw in front of him was even better.

April looked like a wet dream come to life. The only thing covering her mouth-watering tits was a virtually transparent white nightie, with a little magenta bow set in the middle of her tits. The shear material draped over her and ended right above her hips, where the thin band of her matching magenta panties, cut thin and high, began. After a cock-stiffening band of creamy, uncovered thigh, April's legs were covered in shear, white thigh-highs, her legs culminating in a pair of fuck-me pumps that completed the ensemble. What's more, April's hair was pulled back by a headband, leaving long bangs over her forehead. At the top of her headband, someone had tied a giant bow, like you'd see on some fancy birthday present, that matched the magenta of her lingerie.

"Hey...umm...ohhhh...baby, I need you!"

Javier didn't speak. April seemed fucked up. 

"They said... they brought me for you, baby... "

She was totally out of her mind. Her eyes were glassy, and Javier was certain she'd taken Effitol, although he didn't know how voluntarily that had been.

"Please, I need it. I feel so...much. Give it to me, please. PLEASE!"

Javier was a bit confused—April was talking like they knew each other, like they had been together before. Then again, she seemed so confused that he wasn't sure she knew who he was, where she was, or much of anything else. What she knew, and what he knew, was that whatever she was on made her not only confused, but unspeakably aroused. The feeling in her pussy was more than desire—it was a hunger, that only a big hard shaft could quench. The way crackheads in his neighborhood fiended when he was growing up: that's the only thing he could compare her look to.

April didn't wait for him to respond before awkwardly pulling off the slutty costume she had been "packaged" in. Her coordination was impaired, though, and Javier had to break her fall when her arms got caught removing the nighty and she stumbled. With her face still obscured by the tight material, he grabbed her by the waist and craned his neck to place one of her puffy pink nipplies into his mouth, circling it with his tongue. Tweaking the other nipple with his free index finger, he languidly traced his tongue across her tit, savoring the salty taste of the bottom of her full, penduluous mounds. Fireworks exploded in her addled mind as he slipped a rough middle finger into her gushing cunt. 

Once April got her top off, her arms were free to begin stripping Javier of his clothes. He slipped his finger out of her pussy and for a second thought she was going to cry—she looked almost hurt that he had withdrawn his digit and left her empty.

"Don't worry," he said, jamming the finger into her mouth. "You gonna get all the dick you need."

She sucked his finger greedily, and her face lit up when she finally got his pants undone. He had never seen a girl this thrilled to suck a dick before. She fell to her knees instantly and tried to stick his whole cock down her throat on the first try.

Javier couldn't help to contrast this April, now choking and gasping at her failed attempt to deep throat him, with the tentative, unsure way she had licked and nibbled at Kent. It's not that she suddenly knew what she was doing any better—she was still retching a bit from having Javier's dick hit the back of her throat. Rather, it was the total lack of shame and complete devotion to his cock that made the difference. April seemed in a trance, desperate to stuff as much of him into her throat as she could. When she failed to deepthroat his dick on her own, she didn't quit, but kept trying, working up more and more of the thick, viscous saliva that only comes out from gagging on a thick, unrelenting pole. 

Javier decided he could help April. He pulled out his dick and rubbed it against her face, coating her features with spit and precum. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make her up—the bow was just the most obvious step. As Javier pistoned his cock in and out of her mouth again, triggering wave of wave of gagging and almost doubling April over, he knew he was ruining a perfectly good job. April's make-up ran, tears welled in the corners of her eyes, and she looked like her entire body had broken out in a cold sweat. Javier, though, did not relent in his onslaught on her clearly unexperienced throat until he was ready.

"Alright, slut, up on the bed."

He felt free to call her names, to order her around, in her current state. April clambered on top of the cheap motel bed, rolling onto her back. Javier slapped her flank, not hard, but sharply enough to get her attention.

"Roll over on your fucking stomach and look up at me, bitch."

April complied, rolling onto her stomach while facing forward off the bed. Now that his dick could line up with her throat properly, Javier stuffed it back in her mouth, this time just the head. Her tongue swirled over the tip as he held her head pointing forward by the chin. Her skin felt so soft, and her eyes, now red around the lids from her convulsions, were a crazed mixture of intoxication, desperation, and lust.

"Look. I know you ain't gonna be able to keep this shit straight right now, but grab them heels now."

April's stocking-clad legs flexed as she bent her knees and reached back to grab a hold of her heels, one in each hand.

"Listen. Every time you let go, I'm gonna smack that ass, girl. Don't disappoint me. "

With that, Javier began to really drive hard into April's throat. He could sense, almost, that the Effitol was wearing off, losing some of its power. She seemed less cloudy, less confused—yet no less intent on servicing his powerful member. April really did try hard to keep her hands on her heels, but it was hard with Javier bottoming out in her throat, causing her to gag and almost vomit. When her left heel slipped out of her hand, she felt an almost immediate slap across her ass. The sharp pain and the loud, cracking sound from his hard, flat palm on her vulnerable ass startled her.


"I said don't let go."

She caught her heel again and Javier kept violating her tender throat. Finally, as if by a miracle, she started to figure out how to take the massive thing into her gullet. At first only a little, she opened her throat and the head started to pop in.

"See, I knew you were a natural born pole smoker. You just needed the practice."

After that, Javier slowed down, making it easier for her to accept the rigid shaft into her now pliant throat. It was only a matter of time at that point before the inevitable occurred. She felt his balls tense and his cock momentarily swell before he began nutting inside her, first her throat, and then into her mouth, as he partially withdrew his cock to fill her mouth with his salty jizz. April couldn't look up from this angle to see his eyes, and didn't want to try to speak with a mouth full of warm semen and a still hard cock.

"Yes, bitch, you can swallow it."

She gratefully swallowed his cum, and he pulled his cock out, using her hair to wipe off some of the residual sperm. Javier felt a little conflicted now that he had cum and could think with his big head again. He didn't give her the Effitol and didn't bring her to the motel, desperate for cock. While he had gotten off on degrading her for her desperation while fucking her, in the afterglow he was struck by, of all things, how innocent her face looked. Yeah she had jumped on Kent's cock first thing, but you couldn't blame a slut, he reasoned, for getting lubed up when a guy promised her the world. When April looked into his eyes pleadingly, he knew instantly what was happening. Effitol's euphoric, disorienting effects wore off faster than its arousal-inducing properties. After getting so horny from the brief fingering and the blowjob, he knew her pussy was still on fire. At the same time, her mind was beginning to clear—she'd probably remember some of this now, probably be able to string together a sentence or two even. Where before he was cramming his dick down the throat of what had effectively become a mindless fuck doll, now he looked into the plaintive eyes of an actual girl, only eighteen, and now craving sexual release with a force she wouldn't have been able to imagine or understand before today.

"Don't worry, girl. Get me ready again and I'll help you out."

April took his cock once again into her mouth, bathing it with her wet tongue as it grew long and hard in her mouth. Javier could have let her suck it again, as her need built up inside her, but he took pity on the girl. Now that he'd cum once, he could finish her off and quench the thirst she had deep inside.

"Alright, baby. Face down, ass up."

April maneuvered herself into a doggy position like Javier demanded. He climbed on the bed and rested on his left knee, as he stuck his right leg forward, with his foot almost in April's mouth. Lining up his cock with her pussy, at that point leaking down the insides of her thighs, he slowly inserted the head of his cock. Instead of thrusting hard in all at once, he gingerly and deliberately eased his dick into her tight cunt.

Then he waited.

"You can fuck me harder," she said, as if she was doing him a favor, pointing out a helpful fact.




We Rule the School Ch. 01



"Is that what you want?"

"Yes, please."

"What's that? "

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me harder. I need to cum so bad."

Javier could hear her actually getting choked up. Now that she was so close to satisfaction, his teasing had become cruel.

"When you stop begging, I stop fucking you," he said, thrusting hard and deep into her inner recesses.

"Please

Please

Please"

Javier was absolutely pounding her now, really crushing her guts as his friends used to call it. The bed squeaked, his hips slapped lewdly against her tender ass, her sopping pussy made squelching noises, and all the while she babbled on, begging for him to fuck her as she moaned and sobbed. She couldn't stop begging, because stopping meant he would stop, and he couldn't stop, not until she was through. 

"OH
MY
GOD"

When she began to cum, Javier felt her go completely limp. Unable to support herself, she collapsed to the bed. His dick almost popped out, before he slid himself down as well, laying on her back now while grinding his dick in and out. Although he couldn't get quite as deep in this position, the angle meant his dick rubbed against the base of her clit, sparking what seemed to him to be one long, continuous orgasm for over a minute. 

By now, the feeling of her spasming pussy and her complete surrender to his invading cock had brought Javier to the brink. He contemplated pulling out and cumming on her face, but had gotten so worked up plowing into her wet fuckhole that he simply blew his load deep in her pussy, groaning deeply as he unloaded into her. Something about the jizz spraying into her womb seemed to calm her. April, panting still, stopped moaning. 

Javier jumped when the door opened without so much as a knock. His dick still stuffed to the hilt in April's pussy, and the sudden movement caused her eyes to roll back in her head, cumming almost instantly. Until the Effitol wore off, April would be sensitive enough that any movement in her cunt would spark at least a small climax. 

Javier wasn't surprised at all, though, to see Simon walk in. He sat up, still embedded in her snatch as he began to soften a bit.

"How's my good girl?," he asked April, holding her head up by the chin with his left hand while stroking her now sweaty hair with his right.

"You... you were right."

Simon looked right into Javier's eyes. 

"So now I have a question for you. You've seen what we could do with what we have. Fifty grand is nothing to me. We could rule this school. Armstrong could be ours. My question is what do you want to own? Is it her?"

Simon looked down at the thoroughly spent slut on the bed. She looked up at him, frightened of his cold manner of speech and the idea that he was laying claim to her—his to give away, Javier's to keep.

"You could."

April knew he was right—she could, right then, be made Javier's, her mouth, her pussy, maybe more, could become his, as long as he had Effitol and a hard cock.

"Or do you want something more? Because if so, I want you to give her away."

April didn't understand. Was she going to go back to her regular life? Could she forget the feeling of Effitol?

Meanwhile, Javier was torn. April was a fine piece of ass and the thought of fucking her every day was an attractive offer. He could really rub it in that asshole Kent's face too. Simon could sense his indecision, and spoke up again.

"I should add one more thing. Did you ever wonder how Kent knew it was you?"

Javier had always assumed Kent simply assumed that he had stolen the watch since he was a scary minority.

"Not really. But I have a feeling you've got something to tell me."

"You're smart. Ask her."

He didn't have to.

"I'm so sorry," April babbled. "I... I found the butt. I knew it was yours. The way you got the beer and the way Kent talked to you. I just knew it was you. I'm so sorry. I can make it up to you," she pleaded.

In that moment, Javier felt the scales tip. The fucking Newport—that gave me away, he thought. Thrown off by the amateur peep show he had witnessed, Javier had forgotten to retrieve his cigarette butt. He wanted April to suffer and he damn well didn't want to make a girlfriend out of her, even under the best of terms. 

"Fuck this bitch. What now?"

April looked crushed. After fucking her throat and emptying his load in her cunt, Javier was through with her. Both Javier and Simon recognized the real loss she was experiencing, though. At that moment she thought she wouldn't be getting any more F.

"We need the fraternity. I might be a member, but you're not, and we are going to need them to do a lot of the work we won't be able to do for ourselves. I want the house too—campus cops won't go into houses like they will dorms. We need somewhere to do what we need."

"Yeah, so what?"

"Well, I'm going to reward them for choosing the right side tonight."

With that, Simon pressed a button on his phone, sending a message to the waiting brothers outside. Almost a dozen of them poured into the motel room, ready to stuff April with cock and fill her mouth and pussy with cum.

Simon took out a tablet of Effitol and held it in front of April.

"You don't have to do this, but if you want more of this, you've got to play ball."

April snaked out her tongue, and he placed the tablet on it. Simon thought she almost looked happy before swallowing it. That's for the best, Simon thought. Swallowing what Simon and his friends gave her was going to be a big part of her life from now on, after all.

"Let's go, Javier. We've got work to do."



We Rule the School Ch. 02



It hadn't been easy to convince Chad that he should be exempted from hazing and admitted immediately to Alpha Delta. Simon knew, however, that hazing would lower his standing, so that he seemed one of the pledges, a lowly, ordinary creature. He knew he could never be that. He couldn't rely simply on wealth or notoriety, although he had that in abundance. Simon's grandfather was one of the founders and Simon's father was on the national board. Moreover, Simon's father Dick was still a legend at Alpha Delta—hell, he basically invented most of Alpha Delta's patented revenge plays, many of which Simon learned straight from the source. 

Fortunately for Simon, he had something Chad wanted. Simon promised Chad a job at his father's hedge fund in a year. Almost as an aside, he also promised that he would pay out of pocket for some renovations and help around the house. Chad thought the old house could use some work, even if the structure of the place were still pretty impressive. A coat of paint and maybe some cleaning would be good, provided the brothers didn't actually have to do any work.

Chad was a bit pissed when it seemed that Simon hadn't done much to keep his word through all of August. All he had done was to hire a contractor to start finishing a portion of the sub-basement, a dingy old storage area where empty kegs, old bikes, and other assorted shit was kept. Who in the fuck would want to stay down there?, Chad thought.

Chad decided to say something to Simon. But when? Simon wasn't around a lot, and when he was, he spent time in the sub-basement working. He also brought that low-life Javier into the house, which none of the brothers was happy about. 

Chad had forgotten they even had a doorbell, when he heard it ring, echoing throughout the house. Most people either came in because they belonged or stayed the fuck away because they didn't. Opening the door, he recognized the girl in front of him. The curvy brunette was wearing a toned-down but still quite sexy maid's uniform. The face: cute, though Chad wasn't much into glasses. She had great lips, though, really pillowy. What really made the girl stand out to Chad was that she had the great rack and the hourglass figure, but she was also pretty tall for a chick; he figured 5'8" or so. It was April Nelson, the girl he heard some of the brothers had gang banged the night before.

"I'm here to clean the house."

"Ummm, really?" 

Chad didn't expect to see students doing the cleaning Simon had promised.

"Yes. Can you please let me inside? I don't want to be seen out here."

Chad opened the door and April came in. Simon must have picked out her outfit: not cartoonish like a french maid costume, but still sexy and short, like a candy-striper almost. She seemed mortified to be there.

"I have a list of things to do and three hours before I have class. Simon said I couldn't go into any of the rooms, but should focus on the common areas."

"So is that what you do?," Chad asked her. "What Simon says?"

The unintended pun made him chuckle a bit, which April perceived as more derisive and hostile than he intended. She looked angry and a bit afraid.

"Please let me do this cleaning. I need to finish it all in time."

April went to work, and though Chad enjoyed staring at her ass a bit while bending over to pick up the garbage strewn across the filthy frat house floor, he felt almost instinctively that he shouldn't fuck with April. Simon sent her to work, and Chad did not want to get on his bad side, not now. He had kept his promise and so would Chad. 

The next day, Chad returned after class to the sounds of a vacuum. Expecting to find April at work again, instead he saw a tall, toned girl with long blonde hair tied in a ponytail. She wore no make-up, and had a long, graceful face, with refined features. She didn't have the curves April had, but their wasn't an ounce of fat on her body. She must play soccer or volleyball or something, Chad thought. Unlike April, she was in normal co-ed clothes: lime green nylon running shorts and a thin white camisole. She was struggling a bit with the vacuum cleaner, constantly having to bend down and pick up big pieces of trash that it wouldn't pick up.

Tapping her on the shoulder, Chad asked, "Are you one of Simon's maids, too?"

"Yes, I am vorking a bit here for Simon. He said he can pay me just to clean up a bit."

Her German accent was unmistakeable.

"Great, I'm Chad Pritchard. The President here. There was another girl here yestersay, but I guess she didn't finish."

"Yes," the German girl responded, shaking her head. "That is my friend April. She has told me about Simon. I am from Germany—"

"Yeah, I could tell," Chad interrupted.

"—yes, so, that means," the German girl continued, "my student visa does not allow that I can work. Simon will pay me..."

She paused trying to think of the right expression.

"Under the table?," Chad offered.

She looked a bit relieved. 

"Yes, under the table. Oh, I'm Stefi."

Again, Chad let Stefi go about her business. The next day more of the same—some girl named Claire, another friend of April's came to wax the floor. Even though she looked young, Claire gave off a no-nonsense vibe that told Chad to stay away. He was busy the next day and wasn't home when the maid came by, but noticed that now some of the brothers' rooms had been left open and looked noticeably cleaner than he would have assumed. That night he heard that some redhead had come by and asked everyone if they needed their room cleaned. Supposedly, she was hottest of them all, but a total ice-queen. Now used to the maids a bit, no one had bothered to even ask her name, and she didn't seem like she wanted to give it out either. 

Finally, on Friday, Chad believed he recognized the maid. Her name was Chastity, and he had seen her at a sign-up table for the Christian Fellowship Outreach Society. Like April before her, she was in a maid's uniform, although this one looked to be a size too small. It tightly hugged her curves, even making it difficult for her to work. 

Like the girl before, she was knocking on brothers' doors, asking to see if anything needed emptying. Some brothers, apparently not wanting her to see anything in their rooms, politely said no, but most were happy to have her in, maybe chat her up and try to get her number. After all, there was a rumor going around that some of the brothers had gang banged the first chick Simon had hired to be their personal maids.

Chad had no Friday classes and, as president, wanted to know what the hell was going on in his house. He waited and watched her work. She would go into a brother's room, and nothing would be heard for about twenty minutes. Then, Chastity would come out with a small plastic grocery bag filled with trash and throw it into the larger trash bag she was dragging down the hall. His curiosity peaked, Chad ventured down the hall to one of the rooms she had already visited, the door now open. Zeke, one of the senior brothers, was playing Xbox in a pair of nylon warm-up shorts and no shirt. His room was as filthy as you would expect for a brother.

"Dude, what the hell is going on? Is that chick cleaning up? This place looks like shit still."

Zeke looked directly at Chad with an unusual earnestness.

"She emptied my trash can," he replied furtively.

Chad was peeved. "That took twenty minutes?"

Zeke paused his game and stood up, looking right at Chad. 

"Just wait, bro," he replied. "Just wait."

By now Chad was totally confused. He'd have to get to the bottom of this. As he left Zeke's room, though, he saw that Chastity had gotten to his door.

"I'm here," he said, "but I want to know what's going on."

Chastity looked pensive. She was the kind of girl who could look totally different from day to day, depending on how she made herself up. On the one hand, she had a killer body, with tits just a bit too big for her narrow waist. She was quite a bit shorter than April of Stefi, but with a sexier, more feminine body than Claire. Her golden hair was wavy (though probably not naturally) and framed her cute face perfectly. Her eyes were a pale green that sparkled a bit when you looked into them, and her skin was pale and spotless. Chad thought that April chick looked sexy with the freckles across the tops of her cheeks, but this girl's skin was milky-white. 

On the other hand, though, Chastity wasn't, like, model hot, he thought. She had chubby little cheeks that weren't more cute than really sexy. Unlike April's pouty lips, Chastity's were thin and added to the whole "little sister" vibe that he got from her. Depending on how she dressed, Chastity could look smoking hot or just fade into the background. Today, she was somewhere in-between: more cute than beautiful, she had little make-up, and the constricting uniform compressed her tits so that they didn't stick out as much as they could have.

"Let's go inside first."

"Fine. You first."

Chad entered his room after Chastity, noticing not only how tight the uniform was but also how stained it had gotten. There must have been some really messy rooms to clean. 

"I have a note for you. Simon told me to come here. He says that when you read the note, you'll know what to do."

With that, Chastity handed Chad a folded over piece of paper, and then dropped to her knees, struggling to lower herself in the tight uniform. Chad began to read the note.

"Brother! Today is your lucky day. I've provided a special treat for everyone. This cum bucket is named Chastity. Do what you want with her, but follow these simple rules:

1.) Don't ask her any questions.

2.) Don't talk about her to anyone else.

3.) Don't ask me any questions about her.

4.) Don't take off her uniform.

5.) Don't take longer than twenty minutes with her.

Remember, silence is golden.

Your Pal,

Simon"

Chad wanted to ask Chastity so many questions: Why is she doing this? He wanted to find out what the other brothers had done, too. Was she blowing them all? He wanted to ask Simon what his game was, what the goal all of this scheming was.

He also wanted to take off her uniform. And take longer than twenty minutes.

Chad unzipped his pants and pulled his now stiff cock out. Chastity took a deep breath and placed the head in her mouth darting her tongue across the glans. Chastity's mouth was a bit dry. Is she out of spit?, Chad thought. How much cock has this girl sucked?

Chad could tell she was new to sucking dick, as she seemed really tentative about taking his cock deeper into her mouth and throat. Mostly, she used her right hand to jerk him at the base of the shaft while pushing the head of his dick into her cheek. Chad couldn't figure out what she was doing until he realized she was acting out the old tongue-in-cheek blowjob pantomime that he and his friends had thrown at sluts back in high school. Did none of these guys tell her how to suck their cocks right? 

Chad would make sure she pleased him, though. Straightening her up, he started to delve deeper into her mouth, pushing against the back of her throat and causing a brief, panicked look to form in her eyes. If this bitch pukes, he wondered, will she upchuck a load of jizz?

Chad looked into Chastity's eyes and saw a plaintive, desperate look. Unlike some of his brothers, Chad usually went soft on chicks, never wanting to cause pain while fucking them. A few brothers really got off talking about how sluts had screamed and cried while they had broken them in, but Chad didn't have that kind of will to humiliation in him. Mostly passive, he let Chastity do her thing, slobbering over his pole and jerking it frantically, like she had a train to catch.

"Look at me when you're doing that," Chad asked her.

Chastity turned her pale green eyes upwards to meet his. Chad thought she was going to tear up, and she even seemed a bit scared, like he was going to do something to her now, though he didn't know what. All the while she never stopped bobbing her head and pumping her tiny fist on his steely shaft. Her thin lips were stretched around his meat, and Chad heard only whimpering and slurping sounds coming from the girl slobbering all over his schlong.

"Hey, it's OK. Just keep sucking. I'm almost there. "

After another minute or so, he felt the unmistakeable surge building inside. He started to raise onto the balls of his feet as Chastity's inexperienced but still effective mouth started to bring him to the point of cumming. Chad brushed his hand gently on his cheek and thought he saw a look of something like gratitude flush across Chastity's face. He couldn't be certain, of course, since it is difficult to read a girl's facial expressions when her face is getting stretched by a rapidly pumping cock. He began to spurt, first a small, almost warning shot of cum into the back of her throat, which she quickly swallowed. Then the big shots of thick cum filled her inviting mouth, as she partially withdrew his cock and let his frothy cum start to build up on and around her tongue.

"Thank you," she said, as Chad noticed tears in her eyes. "You're sweeter than the others."

God, those must be really low standards, Chad thought. The moment would have seemed more poignant if Chastity's expression of gratitude didn't sound so funny—she still, after all, had a mouthful of cum, which she promptly swallowed. Chad could hear the fulminating sound of Chastity's stomach coming up, trying to reject the filthy offering of his cum, which was now being added to countless others in her belly.

"I've got to go. See you next week," she said, with a faint note of resignation.

With that, Chastity was gone. Chad's room was the last and she left. Dumsbtruck, Chad got up to wander the hall, hoping to clear his head and figure out what just happened. Simon startled him when Chad opened the door. Looking piercingly into Chad's eyes, Simon did not have to say a word.

***

"Great to see you all again today. Last week we were talking about the Gilded Age. I've got some slides for us to look at, and I'd love to hear from you guys what they make you think."

When Professor Baker tried to hold a discussion in a room of 200 people, it was almost always a total waste of time. Attendance was frustratingly low, and he seemed distracted to the students anyway.

Three students never missed a day, though. Simon was pleased that his plan was proceeding so smoothly. To his right sat Javier Cardenal, his new pet "normal." Javier was Simon's source for Effitol, the drug that would take him to the top of Armstrong College. Its addictive properties were as potent as its power as an aphrodisiac, and both freshmen had seen first hand how nubile co-eds could be turned into willing slaves. 

To Simon's left sat April Nelson. Only ten days ago, Simon had orchestrated April's first—though probably not last—gangbang. April was the first person Simon had offered F, as a way of assuring Javier's loyalty and demonstrating that he shouldn't be fucked with. April had been dating Kent van der Wyck, who had challenged and insulted Simon in front of other brothers. Simon couldn't tolerate that, and it gave him plenty of cause not only to ruin Kent's life, but also to defile April and take her away from him as well. It hadn't been hard to convince an easygoing party girl like April to take F at a frat event that night. As she swallowed the pill, before it would kick in, Simon had leaned in and spoke to her.

"Soon enough you're going to be begging for cock."

April couldn't remember much specifically, although she knew she had been fucked by someone, probably Javier, before she had come to. Her first distinct memory afterwards had been Simon—God, how did he know? 

"You were right," she had told him, before cock after cock stuffed her mouth and pussy, bringing to new heights of pleasure and new lows of humiliation as she shamelessly came while getting her throat filled with the cum of almost a dozen horny Alpha Delta brothers. 

All that night, she was tormented, by thoughts of her willing violation, but also by the strong urge for more Effitol. She couldn't calm the feelings inside, the longing to experience that kind of release and overwhelming pleasure again. The haze of it all was disappearing.

That's what had driven her back to Simon the next day, back to the source. It was like he knew she would come. She needed more of it, but it wasn't for sale, not for money. The cost was much more than that; it meant Javier, still full of rage even after savagely fucking her the night before, was going to have her ass this time. High on Effitol, even that had felt like bliss. In her drug-addled mind, the filthy deposit of cum Javier blasted into her asshole was like a soothing stream of pure pleasure. 

She wasn't going to stop, didn't want to. Simon had even made her an incredible deal. She would come over and clean the frat house, once a week, and receive a dose. If she could just pace herself, take it once a week when alone or with someone she trusted, she could have the pleasure without the abuse and degradation. No one would fuck her ass, call her names like "jizz mop" or "knob gobbler" while slamming their cock into her tonsils, or fill her fertile womb with cum. God, that might have been the worst. She had felt like shit the next day at the pharmacy buying Plan B. That first night, she had bellowed out that she wasn't on birth control when she felt a brother blow his load in her pussy. He'd only joked that she'd have to start taking the morning after pill like a daily vitamin. 

I can do it, she thought. That first week had worked. Now it was Monday, and she was seated, as demanded, next to Simon in a relatively empty part of the cavernous lecture hall for Prof. Baker's history lecture. Today was her cleaning day—last week really hadn't been that bad. She had expected, after what Simon and Javier had put her through, much worse. When Simon began ignoring her to talk to Javier, she listened in, hoping to glean more information about what they had in store for her.

"So the Jesus freak first, huh? Damn, that's cold," Javier laughed.

"That's kind of my thing," Simon responded.

He seemed pleased with himself, but less focused than usual.

"The drug is power. Plain and simple. What we have makes people give themselves up. They don't want to be free anymore. Don't want to say no. They're just the beginning."

"Yeah, about that," Javier interjected. "I struck out some times, too. I mean, when it's in 'em they won't quit. But, some of them don't, you know, don't, like need it afterwards. I'm saying that some females don't end up like her—shit, maybe most. "

Simon was disappointed. He had assumed his "miracle drug" would reduce women to putty in his hands. It turns out that most of them just got high, got fucked, and then got on with their lives. Why do some of them seem to get hooked immediately?, he wondered.

"I hear something else, too." Javier said. "Look—no offense and shit. Some of those guys say you don't fuck girls. And I know you didn't fuck her."

He gestured at April, who tried to act as if she was paying attention to the lecture and not their conversation. It was true, though—even she had been surprised that Simon had never used her in any way.

"I'm not saying you're homo, man," protested Javier. "I just don't get it, know what I'm sayin'? What's all this about if you don't fuck the girls that're begging for it?"

Simon summoned up the patience and words he needed to explain what he needed to Javier and no more.

"April doesn't interest me. She's very, ummm, helpful. She's already started bringing in some new candidates this week in fact. But I have to think about...some more important things."




We Rule the School Ch. 02



Javier smiled broadly, "You don't mean that skinny bitch in that fucking class you made me take?" 

Javier had chafed when Simon told him he should take all the same classes, especially Contemporary Feminist Theory. It made sense once Simon promised Javier that way he could pass without any work. Why that class especially, though, was a mystery to Javier.

"Yes, her. I have my reasons."

"All I'm sayin' is that you have five, fuck, 500 hotter bitches out there you could be fuckin' every night with this shit. Who cares if they come back? This maid shit is cool and all, and funny as hell, but what good is it getting all those frat boys' knobs polished? While you're going on dates and shit with some no-tits nerd from Women's Studies?"

"We haven't been on dates yet," Simon added. "Actually tonight's our first real date. Just trust me. I have my reasons."

"Sorry. Forget it," Javier said as class ended.

After class, April split to change into her uniform. As she turned to go, Simon handed her two envelopes, one marked "Now" and one marked "Later." April was afraid to ask what they were, but could feel in both the outlines of a pill. Effitol! This was her weekly allowance of F, but there was one in each envelope. Maybe Simon was rewarding her for her silence and for her loyalty in bringing her new friends Stefi and Claire to work for the frat. When she got back to her room, she dutifully opened the envelope marked "Now."

"There's my good girl. Are you already in your uniform? You don't want to be late for work. I hope you are wearing it, though you probably felt the pill and got too excited to wait. I have an offer for you—totally your choice. This pill is yours for your good work. I trust you're happy with our arrangement so far. I thought maybe we could make another deal, though. That's why you got two envelopes. I'm sure you know there's another pill in the other envelope. What you don't know is that inside that envelope is a letter addressed to your friend Claire. Well, good girl, here's your choice. Give Claire the envelope and that sweet, sweet pill—or keep it yourself. I'll know which one you choose. The last thing—if you keep it this week, you'll keep it every week, two pills a week. But your ass will be mine.

—Simon"

April looked out her window facing the courtyard in her dorm cluster. Outside, groups of girls sunned themselves and chatted casually. A group of guys languidly tossed a frisbee. New freshmen ducked around tables of earnest young republicans, democrats, communists, vegan lesbians—all trying to change the world. A scene of collegiate ordinariness. How the hell had she gotten here so fast? Moreover, what was wrong with her? Other girls resisted? They didn't feel what she felt? Her mind flashed back to something Javier said to her after he'd fucked her ass for the second time last week.

"First time's for fun, but the second's so you won't forget me, slut."

She had not forgotten—could not. She wanted the first time, the feeling she had when her mind let go, when her body opened up, in the early haze of Effitol. But to get it she had to have the second time, when all she felt was the shame and the hunger. Afterwards, that's what filled her memories, her passing thoughts, her dreams. That was the second half of the high, the one she could do without. And maybe most girls didn't feel that second part, or forgot it, or didn't need the feeling like she did. Why am I different?, she asked herself, accusingly.

She had been self-conscious and uncomfortable serving the fraternity as a maid, but that was nothing. She wanted and needed sex, but not on those terms. She could find someone else, who wouldn't use her, who could share the experience with her without taking advantage of her lack of control. 

For the next several hours, she sat in her room, convincing herself she was still a good person. It's a pill, she thought. It doesn't control you. It doesn't force itself down your throat. You take it because you want it. I take it when I want it. I can stop if I want. She can take it or not. She just works there. She's smart. She can take care of herself. Maybe she'll be one of the girls who just has some fun and doesn't have this feeling inside.

"Hey, Claire," April said through her open door when she saw her neighbor fumbling for her key. "I've got some kind of note for you from Simon."

"Weird." 

Claire entered April's room with a quizzical expression before taking the note from April's outstretched hand. 

"Know what's inside?"

"No idea. Hey, gotta go—duty calls."

April left, feeling too guilty to remain in Claire's presence. Slipping on her uniform, under a short trenchcoat, April headed to the Alpha Delta house, happy to be polishing silverware and buffing floors and not cocks. That alone made the guilt bearable. 

***

Katie wasn't really a traditional girl, but a dinner date at a fancy restaurant with a good-looking guy was turning out to be just what she wanted. The place was way too nice for her—she felt woefully under-dressed in a 

Her friends, at least the straight ones, would have been jealous, even if they would never admit it. In the middle of joking about some of the pretentious things people could say in class, Simon's phone rang. Katie noted his ringtone—a Tegan and Sara song, one of her favorites.

"Excuse me, I hate to do this, but I need to answer this."

Although Simon ducked away from the table, it was quiet in the intimate restaurant and Simon's voice carried.

"So totally normal? OK, then we'll see what happens tomorrow."

He paused, his eyes rolling back a little as if he were solving math equations in his mind.

"OK, I'll be ready at 8:00. You know what to do if we're out to dry there."

Simon looks great tonight, Katie thought. His coal-black hair gave him an intense look, heightened only by his ice blue eyes. Simon was tall and thin like her, but built enough to look more like a man than a boy. He had a habit of running his fingers through his hair, pulling it back from his face in a casual way that she found inexplicably sexy. He was the kind of guy who looked ordinary in a photo, but in person—he had presence.

Simon strode confidently back to the table.

"Everything OK?," Katie asked.

"We'll see tomorrow," Simon stated tentatively. "We have a service project planned but some of the brothers have a tough time fitting it in their schedules." 

Simon strained to smile. His mind was elsewhere, and it made him harder to do what he needed to do tonight. Feigning emotion and interest in Katie took a lot of concentration. He studied her intently, but always conscious to avoid the dead stare to which he was prone. He knew if he couldn't play the part, if his mask slipped, he would frighten her away. And she was so perfect.

Javier was right: Katie was skinny. Not thin—skinny, like a dancer. Only she wasn't a dancer. she a was tall, somewhat awkward young girl. Everything about Katie was straight—narrow hips, flat chest and stomach, small, tight ass, straight blonde hair with bangs—except for her face. Despite her general lack of curves, Katie had a kind of heart-shaped face with high cheekbones, rosy cheeks, and a slightly pointy chin. While most guys would find her cute when asked, she didn't star in a lot of guys' wet dreams, either. In the right light, Katie could even be beautiful, just never a total bombshell like April. Simon had wondered at first if she had an eating disorder, which might have made things easier for him but less challenging and meaningful. By this point, he felt sure she was just one of those people with a hummmingbird metabolism.

Sitting with Simon at a table in the quiet, upscale bistro, Katie allowed her mind to wander back to that first meeting, daydreaming as she so often did.

She and Simon met in Prof. Rodriguez-Sanderson's Contemporary Feminist Theory Course. She was wary of him like the rest of the nearly all-female class. A junior Women's Studies major, Katie had seen his type before: preppy dicks who thought that name-dropping Judith Butler or commiserating about the gender pay gap would help them score with liberal feminists. When she found out he was in Alpha Delta, it only provided fuel to the fire.

She held onto her assumptions through the first week or so of class, as Simon mostly sat quietly but attentively through each class. His friend Javier, who honestly looked completely checked out, occasionally leaned over to say something, but Simon usually brushed him off, focused on the class discussion and what the female class members had to say. Most of his questions were requests for clarification, or additions to the points others made. Katie was used to smart-ass male students taking every opportunity to show off their knowledge in class. Simon was...respectful. And insightful. He grasped the theory quickly, even though Katie could tell instinctively that he hadn't done any of the reading. 

Maybe that's why he listens so much, she thought. He's piecing the material together from everyone else's comments.

The class was after lunch in a big new lecture building with a few chain restaurants in the vast entry hall. One day when she was early for class, she saw Simon, smiled, and waved.

"Hey! Katie, right? You can sit here," he said, smiling naturally.

They chatted breezily about the class. He explained how he knew Javier—they met at orientation last month. So he's a freshman?, she thought. I would never have guessed.

Most freshmen, thrown into a new environment and overwhelmed with work, meeting new people, and way too much alcohol seemed so unsure of themselves, so insecure. It had taken her a year or two to get the hang of college life at Armstrong, and even now being surrounded by so much wealth and privilege awed and humbled Katie. Getting involved in campus feminist organizations had given her a center and beliefs that made her feel comfortable and confident, even when it was difficult.

"So, not to be that guy," she queried, "but I guess I will. Why CFT? All the sweet pussy?"

Katie was proud of herself for her racy joke. The confidence to be so bold was new to her, and she couldn't hide her self-regard at that moment from Simon. He was unfazed

"I prefer the term 'sweet vagina.' And I'm mostly here because the class is after lunch and I just can't get enough of this sweet Chipotle, actually."

So he has a sense of humor. Katie thought she might like Simon in spite of herself.

She liked thinking back to that day. Her half-hearted attempts to follow Simon while still daydreaming, though, had started to become obvious. 

"Hey, you still there?," Simon asked jokingly.

"Sorry," she said, smiling. "I was just thinking of how we met."

"Yeah, I'll bet you're still proud of yourself for hitting on a sweet, innocent freshman."

Simon felt like he might choke on the cloying words in his mouth, but knew this kind of thing worked on her.

"Yeah, sure, innocent," she replied. "I don't believe that for a second."

Simon paused for a second. To Katie, it seemed like he was cutting short their joking to get serious. Really, he was trying to think of his next move, but the look in her eyes gave him his opening. She was ready.

"I'm not perfect. But I'm also not like the rest of them."

Katie knew he meant the brothers of Alpha Delta. ADs had a reputation that exceeded the normal frat debauchery. They could be cruel, dangerous even.

"It's just... important to my dad," he continued. "He's from another time, when it was different. He doesn't see how bad it is now."

"Why don't you stand up to him, then?," she asked, with less aggression than misplaced encouragement.

Simon calculated quickly. Afraid? No, looks weak. He'll cut me off? Looks shallow. They're actually a great group of guys? No one would believe that. Love my fucking dad? Hard to pull off, but probably the best angle for her.

"Well, he and I didn't always have the best relationship, but we started to patch things up in the past year or so. Family is just..."

This time's Simon's pause was pure drama, his best move to imitate the feelings he didn't have.

"really important to me. I've always looked up to and respected my mother so much—" 

Simon was afraid this might be laying on too thick, but Katie's solicitous expression egged him on. 

"—that I guess I just wrote my dad off. Maybe that's really why I took Women's Studies— I've always seen my mom as kind of like my hero."

Simon couldn't decide if he was proud of himself for his ruse or disgusted that he had just described his dried-out whore mother as his personal hero. He respected bathroom attendants more than her. Katie, however, was hooked. Their banter had always been light, sometimes flirty but rarely too personal. For Simon, that was best—superficial, glib charm was easy. Emotional depth required knowing a lot more about his target, what would work on them. Over time, he'd learn more about Katie, what strings to pull. But for now, he went with the sappy family stuff with a feminist twist. 

Now it seemed to be working. Katie was at a loss for words. Her intentions on the date had been to have fun, talk to a guy she thought was smart and funny, and then go home. Although she had given up some of her assumptions about Simon after spending a little time with him—he wasn't a player and he didn't spend every moment trying to get her clothes off—she still didn't really know him. Now she was starting to see some of his layers peeled back, and thought that the vulnerable person within the confident outer layer was worth her time and effort.

"I'm...I'm sorry," she said. "It's none of my business. I bet your mom is amazing." 

Katie had Sheryl Sandberg or Hillary Clinton in mind. Simon thought of her as more of a Lucille Bluth, or maybe that bitch that wanted to make a coat out of dalmatians.

"No, I don't want to make you feel bad," Simon said. "The opposite. No one ever asks me about this kind of thing."

Katie felt special. No one would have seen this inside him. But it was there, she knew it.

"Let's change the subject. What do you want to talk about?"

Simon was relieved. He was back in his wheelhouse.

"I want to talk about you. How can I ask this without sounding lame—where do you want to be in, like, ten years?"

Simon always preferred letting his targets talk about themselves, think about themselves, open up to him. He didn't need lies or performance that way, and he could glean information that served his purposes.

"Well, it's stupid. I don't want to tell you." 

She did seem a little flushed. Simon saw a change in her. Her emotions were a little closer to the surface, the armor provided by sarcasm and humor a little less potent. It was working.

"Let me guess—travel agent? You're right, that is stupid—dying industry."

She laughed a little at his hokey joke, but Simon didn't want it to last.

"Seriously, though, your dreams aren't stupid. You can tell me."

"OK, well, have you ever heard of Jezebel?," she asked.

That whore from the Bible?, Simon thought. Where's she going with this?

"Of course," he lied.

"So I'd love to blog, you know write. For Jezebel or xoJane, or even for more political stuff on women's issues."

So it was some kind of website. Great—homework.

"That's incredible. I didn't even know you wrote," he said encouragingly.

"Well, so far, " she said, "I've just written a few pieces for The Daily Eagle."

"So you are good?," he said, hoping to stoke her ego while forcing her to denigrate her own abilities.

"No, I'm not that good. But I love writing and I want to get better," she said humbly.

"Can I read something of yours?," he asked.

"Ummm, well, I don't know."

She had just finished the third draft of a long piece she wanted to publish in the daily. If it got attention, she was hoping to score a summer internship in New York or D.C. The problem was that to get the attention and page views online she hoped for, she'd need to make the article as powerful and newsworthy as she could. But since it was an attack on the campus administration and fraternities for fostering a misogynistic culture on campus, that meant naming names and pissing off a lot of people on campus. Even Simon, despite his obvious sympathies for feminism, might think she was going too far.

"OK, hey I don't want to push you," he said. "But I do know that writers have to deal with all kinds of harsh criticism. A guy who already likes you a lot should be totally easy."

Katie felt a quick surge of joy. She had to admit that she liked Simon too. Sure, it was weird he was a freshman and all, but who was she to judge? Hell, no one could accuse her of being biased against frats if she was dating an Alpha Delta.

"Alright, I'll send it to you," she said, pausing. "Or you could read it tonight. I have a hard copy in my room."

"Sounds great," said Simon nonchalantly. "But let's order dessert."

Through the rest of their meal, despite their small talk on high school experiences, favorite movies, funny moments from class, Katie felt an unspoken tension. She had invited Simon into her room. He would read her article. What then? Would he storm out? Yell at her? What if he tried to kiss her? She knew she would let him. What if he wanted more than that? With that thought, Katie felt a warm feeling, a tingle that answered the question for her.

Shit, she thought, I want him. Why should I wait to see what he wants? But there was the article. OK, she told herself, he reads it, and if he sticks around, we'll talk for a minute. Then I'll do....something. Shit!, she thought, I'm not good at this.

"...and that's why I'll never go back there again," said Simon with a flourish. 

Katie had missed the entire story. She was flushed, off-balance. She had barely noticed Simon pick up the check.

"Hey, let me pay for half of that," she said, eager not to owe him anything.

"Next time's on you," he responded calmly.

Normally Katie would have a snarky remark, upbraiding him for assuming they'd have a second date or joking about eating at McDonald's when he had paid for a fancy dinner. This time she came up with: "Yeah."

Taking her by the hand, Simon walked with her silently back to her room. He could feel her nerves building, tension mounting as he took her back. No way she's a virgin, he thought. Not now. That could complicate things, although it wouldn't be without its rewards either. 

Katie wasn't a virgin, but that didn't mean she had much experience either. Other than a high school boyfriend and a few brief, unsatisfying encounters at Armstrong, Katie had mostly taken care of herself, so to speak. A lot of her friends were lesbians, and she had thought about exploring her sexuality a bit. But watching a bit of lesbian porn on the internet, she realized something was missing. Watching straight porn got her hot, and her vibrator did the rest. It had been her only boyfriend for over a year now.

The cool and confidence she had built up in her years in college seemed to have evaporated as she fumbled for the keys. Simon walked a fine line, letting the productive tension build within her while offering gestures—a light touch on her back, a warm smile while staring into her eyes—to make her feel comfortable, that she shouldn't feel nervous, just excited.

"Hurry," he urged in jest, "some of us are trying to get some reading done."

"Sorry, " Katie said. "Here, finally."

Once the door was finally open, Simon took her room in. It looked...cheap. Bedding probably from a big box store, no mini-fridge, shitty old TV, Dell computer. He had wondered whether her clothes were a feminist statement, but figured now they had to be all she could afford. This'll work, he thought.




We Rule the School Ch. 02



"Armstrong College is supposed to be a place where people from all walks of life can come and develop themselves to the fullest of their abilities."

From the first line, Simon knew he was going to hate this tripe. He resolved to play a little game he had learned as a child to deal with people. The more he hated it, the more impressed and pleased he would act.

"Yet all too often, Armstrong students, especially women, people of color, and LGBT people are excluded, denigrated, and outright abused on campus."

"Wow, " Simon said, turning to meet her gaze. "I really think you come out strong right away."

Katie's tense expression lightened a little. Simon skimmed the article, taking about half the time reading it and half the time formulating new superlatives, trying to hit the sweet spot between praise and obvious sarcasm. After praising her attacks on the administration as really "speaking truth to power," Simon thought he might be going too far. On the contrary, she seemed to be eating it up, basking in the praise she had feared he would withhold.

His interest piqued when she began to charge the fraternities with misogynistic and illegal practices. She referred to rumors of improper hazing at Delta Ep—Simon reassured her she was right and that those guys were assholes—and rumors that some of the fraternities were hiring poor students to work as maids, even dressing them in french maid costumes.

Simon was irked. We're the only frat doing that I know of, he thought, and for fuck's sake, a French maid costume? I'm not that cliché. What's more, it meant that someone had let the information about the maids get out. He'd have to find that out; thankfully, he had someone who could find out information for him without being much noticed herself.

"This maid business is some seriously sick shit. You've got to turn it in, " he told her.

"Do you think so? I want to get the word out and start people talking, but I'm a bit afraid," she replied.

"Listen, Katie. " Simon leaned in close. "It's always hard to put yourself out there, to take a stand. Sure, it might be easier for you to hang back and wait for someone else to be brave."

Simon couldn't remember which bad movie he was channeling here.

"But you might save someone from being degraded or even hurt by these sick bastards. "

Katie was so relieved Simon was on her side and thrilled that he, a smart guy by all accounts, really liked her writing.

"OK, I need you to tell me the truth about one thing. People say a lot of bad things about AD. Do you guys do stuff like dress girls up in maid costumes or call them sluts and whores behind their backs?"

Not too often, thought Simon, we're usually too busy filling them full of cum and hooking them on addictive chemicals.

"Katie, the brothers can be a little rough and don't see things always like I do," he assured her, "but do you really think I would be a part of that? I love my family, but not enough to compromise my beliefs."

Simon didn't get a moment to pause in reflection on his Oscar-worthy moment, because Katie's mouth and tongue was currently all but cutting off his oxygen. She had jumped him like she was spring-loaded, her lithe body flung at him at full speed. Simon had assumed he'd have to take the lead here, but Katie was making this even easier.

"Oh my god," Katie said, pulling herself off Simon momentarily. "I can't believe I did that."

Simon pulled her in close and decided he would play the situation cool and dispassionate. Let her feel a bit unsure about coming off too slutty, he thought to himself.

"Katie, you're so fucking beautiful," he said, looking in her eyes and counting down...1, 2, 3, before breaking his gaze. "And I want this as bad as you. I just want to you to know I'm only interested in you."

Like a lot of her friends, Katie was, on paper, cool with non-traditional romantic relationships. She knew people in polyamorous, frequently bi-sexual arrangements. Deep inside, though, she was a bit of an old-fashioned romantic and had secretly hoped for a guy who wanted only her.

"There's no one else," she said. "Just you."

Simon knew as much already—he was never slack in doing his due diligence when he had a goal in mind. What seemed like a simple seduction was part of a larger plan, one that Simon placed as much emphasis on as his more obvious plans for the fraternity. For now, he was pleased that the second phase of his plan for Katie was proceeding without a hitch.

"Good," he said, running his hand through Katie's long, golden mane. Her lightly golden skin was now completely glowing red, and Simon could see a glaze of sweat forming at the top of her brow. "Because I don't want to share you."

Katie would one day come to appreciate the irony of Simon's words.

This time, Simon made the move, tilting his head lightly and pulling Katie in for a deep, seemingly passionate kiss. Their tongues met and intertwined, as Katie's body began to melt in Simon's embrace. Simon held her head with his left hand while moving his right hand around her back to embrace her tightly. They continued to make out, as Katie grew increasingly flush. She was used to guys trying to strip her as quickly as possible at this point, but Simon seemed dedicated to the moment and unhurried.

From that point, Simon resolved to make every move looking into Katie's eyes. First, he grasped Katie's hand gently, bringing it to his top button. He reasoned that stripping himself first might make her more comfortable. Katie had a habit of crossing her arms when she was distracted, whic Simon reasoned came from a sub-conscious dissatisfaction with her breasts. He made a mental note to look awe-struck when her shirt finally came off.

"Should we turn the lights off?," Katie asked him, with a mixture of lust and trepidation. 

A few bad memories of girls mocking her "bee stings" back in high school played out in her head briefly. Simon didn't respond immediately, but instead looked into Katie's eyes before standing up, pulling her up by the hand with him. Simon spun Katie around and pulled her back into his chest, letting his hands roam all over her body.

"You're perfect to me," he whispered into her ear, before licking her earlobe. He could feel her body slouch a bit as she swooned from the feeling of his wet tongue. "I don't want to miss any part of you."

Simon began to slowly zip down her dress, using his free hand to slide it off her shoulders, until it pooled on the floor. Out of personal curiosity, Simon glanced down at the tiny tag on Katie's bra: 32A. This bitch is totally titless, he thought. Katie shuddered a bit now as Simon reached a hand around to caress her flat, taut stomach. With his other hand he brushed her hair to one side and lovingly kissed her neck, tilting her head ever so slightly to the left. Once he felt her growing comfortable being in her underwear with him, he unfastened her bra and spun her around.

This is it, Katie thought. There's no way he doesn't already know I've got nothing to show off here.

Simon sensed her self-consciousness and shame. He craned his neck down a bit to take one of her delectable, pink nipples into his mouth. Despite their beyond-small size, guys had actually always loved Katie's tits because of how sensitive they were. Her nipples were wired straight to her pussy, and Simon's tongue was arousing her nether regions as much as it was calming the fear of rejection in her mind. He eased her back to the bed, hovering over her delicate body while directing his attention first to the left, and then the right breast. He still wore the black dress pants from dinner, while Katie's sole remaining stitch of clothing, her "date night" Victoria's Secret panties were beginning to soak through with her juices.

Simon was in no rush to strip out of his own clothes. Tonight was all about her, hooking her in, finding the ways to press her buttons. He knew that if he started as the perfect guy, then he could escalate slowly, creating more and more tension and need within her. She'd always remember that night.

Kissing his way down her stomach (really her best feature, he thought), Simon reached her black panties and began to slide them down her thighs at each side. Katie's blonde pussy hairs were curly and golden—natural blonde, thought so, he told himself—while her now puffy labia were glistening with dew, a flower waiting to be plucked. Simon narrowed his tongue to a point and parted her pussy lips with it.

"You...don't...have....to," Katie panted. 

Although she loved the feeling of Simon's tongue in the folds of her pussy, Katie thought, based on her own limited experience, that guys hated going down on girls and only did it because they thought it created the obligation for the girl to go down on them. As limited as her sexual experience was, her oral sex experience was even less. Were she able to fully form her thoughts while Simon was gently tonguing her pussy, she would have felt apprehension at the thought that she might have to make another disastrous attempt at a blowjob.

"But I want to," Simon said. "I want to drink you in."

Katie saw that Simon's chin and around his mouth was coated in her feminine juices, and it turned her on. She pushed her fears and apprehensions down deep inside, aided by the euphoria spreading throughout her body. She began to rock her head back and forth as Simon expertly brought her to the brink of climax only to slow down and begin working on another part of her. To that point, Simon had studiously avoided stimulating her clit too much, hoping to drive her to the brink of ecstasy and use the first direct conflict to the yearning bud of her sex to push her over the limit.

"You're going to make me cum," Katie told him breathlessly, afraid she would be "spent" and that Simon might feel frustrated.

Simon's response was muffled, of course, since his mouth was locked over her pussy, his tongue deep in her snatch while his upper lip moved gently into contact with her clit.

"Ah nuhhh"

Katie was too lost in the pleasure radiating through her body to wonder what he was saying. After a few seconds, it clicked: I know, she thought. He's saying, I know. In perfect synchronicity, Katie realized that Simon was granting her permission to cum right as he withdrew his tongue from her slit only to flick it rapidly, in broad strokes, across her now hypersensitive clit. Katie bucked her hips and began cumming intensely, losing herself in the pleasure and overwhelming feeling of bliss she felt at the moment. Simon eased her through her orgasm, keeping his tongue mostly still on her clit while continuing to move ever so slightly to prolong the sensation while not overstimulating her to the point of uncomfortability.

As Katie came down from her orgasmic high, she looked up at Simon. The entire lower half of his face was slick with her cum. While in the past she would have balked at any attempt to kiss her, she was happy to once again lock lips with Simon, even as it meant she would taste her own cum on his lips and tongue. Now the hesitation and fear couldn't be stifled, though.

"I need to tell you something," she told him seriously. "I'm not a virgin, but I haven't been with a lot of guys and, well," she hesitated, "I haven't really, you know, actually really given a blowjob. At least, you know, all the way."

"It's OK," Simon said, languidly running his fingertips across her torso, up to her breasts. "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with tonight. This isn't a one-time thing, you know, and we don't have to do everything tonight."

Simon was curious to see what she would do now that much of her sexual tension had dissipated and she had gotten the greenlight to blue-ball him. How much of a prude was she? Simon made a quick bet to himself that he'd end the night with a perfunctory, amateurish hand-job. That might be the kind of thing to set her up to owe me, he mused to himself.

"I..."

Katie looked genuinely torn. God, she really needs someone to make decisions for her, Simon thought. Not yet, though.

"I want to feel you inside me," she said pleadingly, almost apologetically.

What the fuck is this bitch's trip?, Simon wondered. Did she think I'd say no?

After finally stripping off his pants and boxers, Simon moved to straddle Katie, towering over her prone body with his semi-hard cock jutting from his body. Katie didn't need instructions to grab hold of his cock and pump it to harden him. Simon hoped this position would impress her a bit with his power, since in his mind the whole pussy-eating had made him seem a bit of a little bitch. Simon didn't have some monster cock—it was pretty average really. Nevertheless, Simon just exuded a sense of dominance and something like predatory voraciousness. He looked like he would eat Katie alive at that moment, and she probably would have died with a smile.

"You're really, you know, big," Katie told him earnestly, "so be gentle with me."

In the future, Simon knew he would be much less than gentle with Katie. For now, though, he had no intentions of hurting her or scaring her off. Instead, he threw his leg to the side and slid down her body. Knowing she would probably be a safe-sex stickler, Simon had brought along one of his least favorite things, a condom, with which he sheathed his cock. 

Aiming his dick at her dripping wet snatch, he slowly and tenderly slid the head into her, watching her mouth open and draw in a deep breath, not from pain but from pleasure. He began with his legs inside of hers, but once his cock had finally bottomed out in her pussy, he balanced himself and moved first one leg, and then the other to the outside of hers. In that position, her legs were less splayed and instead she felt his body almost envelop hers. When Simon leaned down and began kissing her neck, she felt as if every inch of her skin tingled from contact with him. Simon began slowly, almost cautiously fucking her, his hard shaft hitting every inch of her still very tight pussy. He took pains never to thrust too hard, to slam his rod into her cervix and cause pain to distract from the pleasure.

"I've never, I. Don't stop, oh like that," Katie babbled.

"Shhhhh, it's OK, just relax," he assured her. "You've never looked so beautiful."

Simon picked up his speed, now pulling his cock almost fully out of her cunt before guiding it back home. He considered switching positions but thought it unncessary. It was clear that Katie was rapidly headed towards another mind-shattering climax, and he didn't really need to prolong things any longer. Leaning up a bit, Simon again began to stimulate her clit, which was enough to set lose the wave of spasms in her pussy that let him know that he had brought her again to the heights of pleasure. With that accomplished, he simply thrust more, over and over, until his cock jerked and filled the condom with his semen.

Exhausted by that point, Simon rolled off of Katie and removed the slimy condom, wrapping it in tissues found on her nightstand. Moments like this, where physical exertion hindered his concentration, were always a vulnerable point for Simon. Once, while tired from a gym assignment in grade school, he told another boy that he would slit his throat for mocking his slow time in the 5K. Simon's human mask was never so tenuous as when he was post-coital, in fact.

"So we'll do this again, right?," Katie asked, a note of worry in her voice.

At that moment, Simon would have liked nothing more than to call her a whore for fucking him on their first date and critique her bullshit reasons for not sucking his cock. He didn't have to believe it. Saying it would be fun enough. Doing so, though, would ruin all his plans for her, though.

"I'll call you when I see you in print," replied Simon. He began to dress. "I mean it—I want you to submit that essay."

Katie might have been offended at his leaving so suddenly after sex if he were not so focused on her budding writing career. 

"Soon," she replied, still breathless.

He blew her a kiss as he walked out the door.

***

Chad awoke to the sound of knocking on his door. He was sleeping off a long night of drinking and had a Theta Omega sister in his bed. Tuesday night parties were usually a drag, but this one had proven worthwhile. She had slept through the knock, and he didn't feel like waking her. Still groggy when he opened the door, he saw one of the girls from last week, the skinny hipster chick who had done the floors last week. This time, however, she was trussed up in one of Simon's maid costumes. This one looked clean at least. The obviously distressed girl was also carrying around a folded letter, just like the slut who'd sucked off the whole house last Friday. In her other hand, she held a small duffel bag, maybe for cleaning supplies, Chad thought. As she started to enter the room, Claire, whose name he suddenly remembered, spied the passed out sorority girl.

"This can't happen here. She can't be around."

"What are you talking about?," he asked, although he knew at least part of the answer.

"Look, he told me how to do it. She can't be around. We can go into the bathroom or you can just forget about it. But not here."

Chad snatched the folded letter out of Claire's hand. What did Simon have on these girls?, he wondered. He started to read it to himself.

"Brother!

You should all know the rules by now, but let me repeat them: no questions, no witnesses, no talking about this, and don't fuck with her uniform. Claire is here to take donations. Please give all you can!

Your pal,

Simon"

"What exactly are you going to do?," he asked.

"For the last time," she said, gesturing to the passed out girl. "Not here."

Chad led Claire to the large bathroom he had to himself, a perk of being fraternity president. Once inside, Claire placed her duffel bag on the counter. The she stood there, breathing heavily. She seemed nervous, but also buzzed maybe, Chad thought. Fuck, it's 11:00 AM. Is she drunk already? 

Finally, she reached over and quickly slid off his sweatpants, the only thing he was wearing. Chad expected her to drop to her knees and suck him off like that girl Chastity had done, but instead she looked directly at him while starting to stroke his cock with her petite left hand.

"I'm supposed to tell you some things. First, I have to ask you if you want me to put my tongue in your ass."

Chad almost fell over.

"You can't touch me and you're not going to fuck me, OK. Don't try." 

Claire was especially insistent about that last part.

"Finally," she said, carefully unzipping the duffel bag with her right hand, "you've got to cum in this."

Claire pulled out a widemouth coke bottle, already showing a good amount of semen inside.

"It really helps if you can hold the bottle for me. My arms aren't that long."

Chad took the bottle from her without thinking. He was momentarily grossed out when he felt a sticky patch of cum on the outside. It made him think of her, of what she would end up doing with it, though.

"So, is that a yes or no on the ass thing?"

"Ummm, yes. I guess," he responded somewhat embarrassed.

Claire shot Chad a look that blended disgust and rage. Soon, however, he couldn't see her face, as she knelt behind him. He felt a slimy feeling in the crack of his ass for a second.

"What the fuck is that?," he asked.

"Simon said I could use it. I mean, would you want to taste asshole?,"she responded.

The smell of watermelon (among other things) told Chad she'd used some kind of flavored lube to take the edge off. He wondered if that was cheating. Taking her hand off his cock for the first time, Claire spread his ass cheeks apart so that she could reach his asshole. Snaking her tongue out she gingerly circled the tight sphincter, before lapping at his anus with broad tongue strokes. While she kept her left hand on his ass cheek, to keep him open, her right hand stretched around to grasp his shaft. She could really only reach to the base, but the combined effects of her stroking and her tongue bathing his asshole in saliva felt incredible.




We Rule the School Ch. 02



Chad put the coke bottle down and uncapped it. He knew that his orgasm could come on suddenly, though he tried to hold back, to extend the pleasure of her rimming. His hangover helped, as did the fact he had just cum inside the sorority girl the night before. Chad sensed it was important that he make it in the bottle, and not splatter the outsides. After all, his brothers might have to touch that.

Claire meanwhile was on a deadline. The frat had 40 brothers and she only had the day. Thankfully she'd miss most of them. Simon had been clear—she knocks on the door, and if they're there, she had to have their cum. If they were in class or getting food, it was their loss. That was the bargain they struck, and Claire knew she couldn't go back on her word to Simon. She needed to speed the process along.

The moment Claire finally penetrated his asshole with her tongue, licking the entryway to his rectum while never ceasing to pump his cock, Chad knew he wouldn't last long. He tried to picture Claire's face in his mind, drawing on images of rimjobs from porn and adding her cute, girlish face to them. Claire reminded a bit of the kind of girl you'd see in a "Barely Legal" movie—with the small but perky tits and girl-next-door look.

Grabbing the bottle, he pointed his dick downwards a bit and tipped the bottle slightly on its side, careful not to spill its contents. His knees were shaking, his hands unsteady—

Christ, he thought, I think I'm in love—when the lid blew off and he began to cum vigorously into the bottle. He spurted five times before tapering off with Claire still rhythmically tongue-fucking his anus. 

All the watermelon in the world, he thought, can't make that taste good. He wondered if she'd throw up some time today. He kept himself pretty clean usually, but some of the brothers were real slobs. ADs weren't one of the athlete frats; they came from money and knew they could get pussy regardless of how they looked. He actually felt pity for the poor girl for having to eat so much disgusting man-ass.

As he began to come down, Claire withdrew her mouth from his butt and reached around with her left hand for the bottle, while her right hand continued to stroke his cock gently. Once she got the bottle, she stopped stroking, capped it, wiped it down, and returned it to the duffel bag. Chad, naked, his asshole wet and somewhat sticky from the lube, just stood there.

"So, umm, can you go back to your room now? I've still got a lot of work to do," she said

"You mean more ass to eat?," he said, his charm and wit returning.

Claire looked dejected.

"No questions. Look, I don't want Simon mad at me, you don't want him mad at you. So, bye."

Returning to his room, Chad was actually a little pissed. At least he was as pissed as a person can be after have a cute college co-ed rim their asshole to orgasm. He was the fucking president here, not Simon. She didn't show him any respect. I've got to do something about this, he thought.

Claire, however, didn't think. Or else she tried not to. She had one thing in mind and one thing only—giving Simon what he wanted so that she could get what she wanted. Yeah, OK, she thought, I'm going to spend today licking stupid frat guys' buttholes and making them cum in a bottle. It sucks, but it's so worth it. It'll be great tonight. And the next night. Six good days and one lousy day isn't so bad.

So she jerked off Zeke, and rimmed Deacon. Big Stevie's ass was fat and sweaty, while Little Stevie's was hairy and scratchy on her face while she tongue-bathed his stinkhole. Gill, the comedian, thought it would be funny to fart in her face when she knelt down. She wanted to fucking bite him, but she did her job, dreaming of that night, and the next night...

With her bottle about half-full of cum, she descended into the sub-basement, where Simon was waiting for her.

"How many?"

"Twenty-two"

"I know eighteen guys who'll be unhappy."

Claire could care less about how happy or unhappy those bastards would be.

"Here's the bottle."

Simon swirled the bottle a bit, as the cum sloshed against the sides.

"You know, for some reason I thought there would be...more."

"Take that up with them," Claire said, gesturing upstairs. "Two or three of them came outside the bottle, one all over his bed."

"I'm guessing the little guy, with the red hair?"

"No. One of the fat ones," she said.

Simon was surprised by Claire's matter-of-factness about the whole thing. She wasn't devastated or broken. He knew she wasn't poor, either. When April brought her, he wasn't sure why she came along. At that point, she provided Simon a pleasurable little mystery, and he actually preferred her cynicism and vitriol to stupid, blubbering idiots like April.

"You know, I like you Claire," Simon said smiling. "You've made this more fun for me than even I expected."

"So, do I get what I want now?," she asked, more with anxiety than impatience.

"Absolutely," Simon said. "We said three a week, right?"

"Yeah"

Simon left Claire and turned a corner where she couldn't see. Returning with three pills in a small plastic baggy, he approached her but stopped short, just out of Claire's reach.

"So you weren't mad at her?"

"Not really," Claire said. "I like April. I understand why... I mean, I'm glad she gave it to me. I'm not addicted, I just...want it. I mean, you don't have a problem with that, do you?"

"Of course not," Simon said. "I am curious. You don't have to tell me, but I think you will. Who'd you use it with?"

Claire froze. She was afraid she would be in trouble for splitting it, and for giving half away. She wanted to lie, but Simon's cold, penetrating eyes seemed to bore a hole inside her.

"April"

Simon smiled. He was a bit surprised. It was ballsy of April to give away the pill to Claire, signing her away to be Simon's plaything, only to get part of it in return. A thank you from Claire for introducing her to F. He should be mad, but he couldn't be.

"And fucking her?"

Claire's looked lost in her own mind.

"I can't describe it. Amazing."

Simon was actually pleased. So two of his "maids" would take their pay, their drug, and fuck each other. He was a bit skeptical they'd be satisfied without cock, but technology did work wonders. The thought of the two of them, high on F and grinding their pussies into a double-sided dildo made him feel as if, in a roundabout way, he had really helped them both. 

"Well, I'm happy for you. Hey, I'll give you two a present. You can find a way to share it if you like, or not. Up to you."

Simon returned to the back and brought an extra dose of F. Claire's joy was unmistakeable. Unscrewing the cap on the coke bottle full of cum, he dropped the pill inside, where it sank into the gelatinous goo. Simon hated looks of joy.

"I kind of hoped it would fizz," he said, with mock disappointment. "But I'm sure it'll dissolve on the way home. Bye Claire, " he paused. "See you next week."

Christ, she thought, that guy's a fucking psychopath. 

Simon had seen that look his whole life. I think she might have just realized I'm a psychopath. 

Visions of Claire and April, chugging the cold and clotted jizz to get high off the Effitol inside made Simon forget the fact that April had taken something that she hadn't earned. As for Claire, how much weight do her opinions hold, he reasoned, considering he was fairly certain that she'd be washing down her day's meal of asshole with a swig of partially-congealed semen. Some people are just made to be cum buckets, he concluded to himself.

With that interruption over, he went back to reading the day's paper. He'd already read it twice. Really, though, only one article interested him, the lead editorial:

CAMPUS MISOGYNY DENIGRATES WOMEN

by Katie Greenwood

He had really only lucked out in learning about her writing dreams. Now with his encouragement, she could become Armstrong's most famous feminist rabble-rouser. She could make a name for herself, taking on the patriarchy and fighting for women's dignity. It made his plans for her that more perfect.

Simon pulled out his phone, scanning for the article link on the paper's home page. Forwarding it to his father, he added a little note:

"This is the one."



We Rule the School Ch. 03



Kent was jogging when he first received the message. He had really started exercising more when his life hit the skids last month, and it helped him to relax and forget about things. First, his girlfriend April abruptly dumped him. Since they had only been going out for three weeks, he wasn't all that distraught. When his car was graffitied with a surprisingly detailed, though anatomically implausible scene of Ollie the Eagle, their school mascot, fucking him in the ass, he took it in stride. Fraternity pranks happen, and he had insurance. He figured it had to be payback from his enemy, Javier, for the beating he had given him, as well as the handful of racial slurs Kent had carved on Javier's door with his pocket knife in the days after the assholes at Alpha Delta had taken the thug's side over his. 

Little things started to add up until it got way out of hand, though. On class days, Kent would return to find all his beer gone, or his hard drive erased; once, Kent even found a piece of shit in his bed. Living in the Delta Ep house, he couldn't understand how this kind of thing was happening. His brothers claimed never to see anyone entering or leaving his room. When he finally exploded in rage at the frat president for the way he was being treated, they bounced him immediately. Not Delta Ep material, they said.

At his lowest point, though, he had met Candace. Candace didn't scream sex like his last girlfriend April, but she was still hot, if a bit more demure. Candace wore her strawberry-blonde hair back in a pony tail and always seemed to be in athletic gear. Her short nylon running shorts always left her long, toned legs available for male students and more than a few female ones to gawk at when she jogged through campus. Those legs culminated in a truly fantastic ass; despite all the running, she never lost that soft feminine jiggle that drove Kent wild. Although she was actually a minister's daughter, Candace was anything but a prude. There was nothing more that Kent liked but to watch her cherry red lips slide up and down his cock. She didn't stay a virgin long when they met, and Kent initiated her, however clumsily, into the pleasures of sex. They had connected immediately, though, even before getting physical. The past few weeks had been much better. Candace was his perfect angel.

The second Kent pulled up the message and looked at the picture attached, he turned in the opposite direction and started running back towards campus. He broke into a sprint, hoping the physical exertion and adrenaline would clear his mind of thoughts. He ran all the way back to Ryerly Hall, the dorm where Candace lived. Banging on her door with what energy remained him, Kent looked like a lunatic when Candace opened the door, her warm smile replaced by an immediate look of alarm.

Out of breath and delirious with rage, Kent spit out in staccato:

"DON'T. FUCKING. TALK. TO. ME. AGAIN."

With the last word he held up the phone to Candace, sticking it close into her face, so her eyes momentarily had to adjust as she backpedaled to see the image.

Her concern melted into horror and confusion.

"Kent...I...I don't understand."

Kent, catching his breath, turned, slammed the door, and started to cry. The image of Candace, surrounded by cocks and coated in semen, was burned into his mind. 

It must be that fucking Simon, he thought.

***

There was only a week until Halloween and so much left to do. Simon shifted in his seat and leaned into whisper something into the ear of April Nelson. April was one of the "maids" for the Alpha Delta fraternity and a virtual addict to Effitol, the powerful hallucinogen-cum-aphrodisiac that had led her to physical euphoria but psychological torture. 

"I have your costume picked out for Halloween. You're coming to the party," he told her directly, without a hint of asking.

"I'll go, but I'm not...," she hesitated. "You're not going to do anything to me. We had a deal."

"I've never forced you to do a goddamn thing," Simon reminded her. "But I have a feeling you'll enjoy this party one way or another."

"So, you've been busy, huh?"

April thought Simon was still talking to her and almost responded. She even felt a weird thrill for him to take any interest in her life. Although part of her hated him, she had developed a strange, shameful attraction to him over the past two months. He really had kept his word, even though her girlfriend Claire, another of Simon's "maids," ended up paying the price.

"Yeah, man, there's like ..." Javier paused as if counting a bit in his head, "six now." 

He chuckled a bit but stifled it. They were in the middle of a lecture, after all, and though Professor Baker didn't seem the type to throw students out of class, there was still no point in drawing attention. April realized that, once again, Simon was ignoring her to talk to Javier. Why did he make me sit with them anyway if he doesn't want to talk to me?

"You're sure they'll all be ready for the event?" 

As always, April tried to be discrete about listening in when Simon spoke.

"Well, your boys got homegirl last night, you know, Kent's new bitch? Fuckers nutted all over her sent him a picture. I thought you were rough."

Javier continued. "You got the rug munchers—" here he gestured to April—"and the German chick, Steffi. Then the blonde one, Chastity, makes five. Shit, I was counting those Chinese girls as one, Hannah and... the other one. So, it's seven. "

More girls to humiliate and degrade, April thought. I ended up lucky. Though she was just as hooked on getting high and fucking on F as ever before, she had found the perfect situation: April kicked in her one pill a week and Claire her three. They always took them together, and from there the hours-long fuckfest would begin. 

For April, this was a safe, effective way to get her fix and get off. The problem was that, unlike Claire, she wasn't really even bi-sexual. Without drugs, she had little interest in sex with Claire. When she went down on Claire, which had become an almost daily occurrence at this point, it was largely from a sense of obligation. April knew that those two extra pills a week meant that Claire wasn't just cleaning the Alpha Delta house in a skimpy maid's uniform—she was in all likelihood sucking a lot of cock, or worse.

What was even more ironic about the situation was that Claire, who April thought might actually be a full-on gay, never ate pussy. Instead, she preferred bending April over the bed and using her strap-on to fuck her doggystyle, like a man would. The sight of tiny, girlish Claire dominating the taller, curvier April would have been a little funny if it hadn't been so erotic. April actually preferred it that way too, as this way she could imagine that it wasn't the tiny girl fucking her, but instead a strong, powerful man. Increasingly, she had even come to fantasize that it was Simon who was stuffing her pussy with his cock, even though April had never even seen Simon nude.

"Good work," Simon told Javier. "I've already got their sizes and picked out their costumes. You just need to get them to the house on time next week."

"A'ight," Javier said. He leaned across Simon to look at April, grabbing her attention. 

"You know your girl's gettin' it double today. She's got next week off."

April silently trembled. She didn't want to imagine what Simon had Claire doing in the filthy frat house today. She was a little happy, though, to know that Claire wouldn't have to work on Halloween, even though they were both required to go to the party.

"We do have one problem," Javier told Simon, slouching back into his seat. "The Friday girl is losing it, I hear."

Chastity Summers, Simon's Friday maid, had been active in the campus Christian community and a fairly innocent girl before Simon seduced her and turned her into a cum dumpster for the fraternity. Although by that point she had probably swallowed a gallon of semen, she never adjusted to the taste. More than once, she had rushed into the frat's bathroom and violently expelled large quantities of cum into the toilet. After vomiting, she would be forced to compose herself and quickly return to the thankless task of sucking off the frat brothers, or rimming them and letting them cum in her mouth—

countless depraved acts that her mind could never have conceived of before Simon got to her.

"I think you mighta pushed her too hard," Javier continued. "She don't go to Church Club anymore, she looks like shit now. She's not—" Javier looked for the right word "—

adjusting. She's getting worse."

Dealing with this problem was the last thing Simon needed right now. In just a week, the national trustees of Alpha Delta would be visiting the Armstrong chapter. Since AD was founded at Armstrong, they always paid special attention to what went on there. Simon's father would be among the group of elder statesmen, officially there to assess Chad's tenure as president. Simon knew that instead the inspection was about him, his actions in seizing power in the fraternity and, eventually, the college at large. If the trustees approved of his actions, it would set him on the path to power he had always imagined. Simon's plans for the Halloween party, his work "re-purposing" the sub-basement, the maids, even his sham relationship with Katie: all of it was leading up to this visit.

"Look," Simon barked at Javier, before relaizing the venom in his voice and modulating his tone. "I could use your help here."

"I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do. I ain't exactly her favorite person."

Simon realized that Javier didn't get it. He was operating under the assumption that turning Chastity into the frat's personal cum bucket made her hate him. Simon didn't see normals that way—they all wanted, one or another, to be used by someone greater than themselves. Even Javier was an example of that. Javier only needed to ease the transition for her, help her come to accept her place in the world without the kind of shame and self-hatred that could lead her to dangerous and unpredictable acting out.

"It doesn't matter. She has to talk to you. So go to her, and talk to her."

Simon fished for a pen, finally reaching into April's purse and finding one of those stupid, purply pens that even teenage girls should grow out of. April noticed his casual violation of her purse and felt goosebumps form on her skin. Despite Simon's utter lack of attention to her, she couldn't help but fantasize about him, or at least her imagined version of him.

"Here, I've written down a few things to say. And you've got to respect the difference in this case: don't fuck her, make love to her. Right now she's got no one to latch on to. Be that guy, just a little, and she'll do anything for us now."

Javier grumbled a bit about ending up with a stalker, but he took Simon's hastily-scrawled list, a series of psychological insights and talking points in a scratchy, masculine handwriting that seemed out of place with the shimmery, lavender ink. At that moment, class let out. April watched Simon chuck the pen in the garbage as he left. She thought about retrieving it, but didn't want anyone to see her. Her cheeks burned with silent, private embarrassment, and her nipples strained against the shear bra and translucent navy top she wore.

***

Simon and Katie's first real fight had turned surprisingly emotional.

"Oh, I'm sorry that I want to spend time with you, then. I guess you want me to show off to your friends but don't really care about how I feel," Simon bellowed. 

He had been building to this fight for over a week, altering Katie's calendar to cause her to miss their dates, hiding things he needed in her belongings, and generally setting her up as a shitty girlfriend despite her best efforts. She couldn't understand how she could be so inconsiderate and had to admit that Simon had a point in complaining about her.

"I'm sorry, I've just been so stressed with classes and now writing my column. You do matter to me," she replied with concern.

"Honestly," Simon said, "you know that nobody supports your writing more than me. I just don't think I'm asking a lot of you to say, 'don't stand me up.' And I'm getting even less than that from you."

"No, you're right," she said. "I can do better."

Simon was kind of surprised by how this was going. Katie really bucked the stereotypes of women—she was actually admitting she was wrong in an argument. The irony, of course, was that Simon had fabricated her misdeeds out of thin air. The emotional crisis he wanted wasn't materializing.

"Look, I think I need some time to cool off and really think about things. I just don't know if I can trust your words," he told her. "We'll talk soon."

With that, Simon left Katie, confused and struggling to know whether she had ruined what had become her best relationship ever by that point.

***

Chastity made a beeline for her dorm. Fridays were, naturally, the worst day of her week. She usually needed the whole weekend just to decompress from the indignities she was put through at the Alpha Delta house. Before meeting Simon, Chastity had only seen one actual cock—that of her high school sweetheart, the man she had planned to marry. The last time she saw that cock, it was pumping in and out of her former best friend. Chastity broke up with him and swore the next man she was with would love her. In reality, the next man she was with, Javier, took her other two virginities and left her an addict for Effitol and the orgasms it brought her. His cruel seduction had brought her into the palm of Simon's hands, and he hadn't been kind.

Each Friday, Chastity put on the overtight maid's uniform and went into the belly of the beast. There, she performed a different degrading sexual chore each week. Each time Simon found a way for her to end up with a bellyful of man chowder. She had now seen up close and personal over 40 different cocks, most of which had been rammed mercilessly down her throat at least a couple of times. None of them had touched her ass or pussy—Simon had made it clear that her uniform would never budge (which is why he made it so uncomfortable for her). But they had found plenty of ways to humiliate her anyway.

One of the worst was the time Simon had her bring a bucket to the fraternity. All of the brothers were to jerk off in the bucket as soon as possible. Chastity had assumed that would be the end. But the twist she learned was that she was to remain in the fraternity for another hour afterwards. During that time, the frat brothers, each in his own room, would ring a bell to call for her. When she heard the bell, she had to go into their room with a large cup and hold their cocks while they pissed into the cup. She couldn't forget the things they said to her, called her: piss mop, cock socket, human toilet. It was like they hated her, even though she had never done anything but service them, drain their balls, swallow their filthy jizz. 

After collecting the piss from the brother, she was to empty the glass into the same bucket. By that time, there were usually at least two or three brothers frantically ringing their bells. Holding their cocks while they pissed was troublingly intimate for her. Once she had finished, she brought the now quite heavy bucket down to Simon's personal space in the sub-basement. There he had promised her a pill for every second she could hold her head in the noxious mixture of cum and piss in the bucket. 

What made it all so horrible was that she could have walked away from it all. Simon never threatened her or forced her to do anything, yet the illusion of choice made it all worse. When Chastity lowered her own head into the bucket, the ultimate act of submission and even dehumanization, something had broken in her mind. She only lasted a couple of seconds before violently wrenching her head out and vomiting on Simon's floor. The fear she felt, that he would punish her for ruining his floor, only underlined her own worthlessness in the face of his all-encompassing control.

After that Chastity, once a vivacious and popular girl, started to wilt inside. She never left her room, withdrew out of shame from all her public activities, and began to live only for the memoryless haze of Effitol each week. 

Entering her room after another day of shame and stomach-turning abuse, she was startled to see Javier, the bastard that had turned her into this, sitting on her bed. She was too beaten down to fight, to threaten to call the campus police. He's probably going to fuck me hard in the ass again, she thought. I hope it doesn't hurt so bad this time.

"We need to talk," Javier said to her.

"I don't have anything to talk about," she replied listlessly.

"You haven't been going to class, or church, or anywhere," he said, with an unfamiliar note of concern in his voice. "We're worried about you."

Chastity thought he had gall to express concern when it was the pills he gave her that had broken her will.

"Like you care about me. You're the one who did this."

"I know, but, shit, you seem like you might hurt yourself or something."

"Or something? Worried I'll tell people about what you've put me through? Well don't worry. I'd rather die than tell anyone what's happened to me...what I've done."

Simon's note was right, Javier thought. She's not angry, she's ashamed of herself.

"Hey, you don't have anything to be ashamed about," he reassured her. "A lot of crazy things happen in college. A lot of girls are sluts right up until the point some lucky guy puts a ring on their finger. You're having fun with, yes, OK, a little bit of drugs, and getting a bit of dick, OK. But half the chicks at this school are fucking a different guy every night."

Chastity's lack of experience and the social circle she had previously enjoyed had made her a bit naive and easily duped about just how promiscuous the 'secular' students were. She started to actually listen to Javier's words, feeling a bit more open to him now that he showed little interest in taking advantage of her.

"Just because you're blowing some dudes, it don't make you a bad person. It's not bad to suck cock and take drugs. It's OK. You're not hurting anybody. You can't take the shit these guys say personally. You're the one in control there. They're saying fucked-up shit to you 'cause they can't get away with any of that with a girl who don't have to be there."

Javier could tell Simon's suggestions were working, although he knew he was doing a bang up job of selling the point. He moved his hand gently to hers, clasping her small hand in his. For someone who couldn't feel shame, Simon sure seemed to understand it. In Chastity's mind, understanding that they didn't hate her relieved part of the lingering feeling that there was something so awfully wrong with her that she deserved to be punished. Her face lightened a bit, and when Javier held her hand she even felt a little gratitude for his kindness and care. Sliding closer to her and putting his free hand around her back in an affectionate embrace, Javier continued.

"Your problem is that right now, you're just getting the hard stuff. That kind of shit is OK, but those guys aren't really trying to take care of you like I can do."

Chastity was shocked and confused. What is he offering here?, she wondered.

"But if you just got to feel good and get treated right, I know you could deal with a little shit on Friday and put it behind you. So can you trust me?"

There have rarely been worse candidates for trust at that moment than Javier. For Chastity, though, her isolation and desperation had grown so great that she couldn't turn down many lifelines. At that moment, Javier promised her protection, support, and the one thing she craved more than anything else: an absence of judgment.




We Rule the School Ch. 03



"Please don't hurt me anymore," she pleaded, breaking out into a soft sob. "I want to trust you, but I just feel so bad inside."

Javier pulled her head into his chest and let her cry a little bit. You fuckin' owe me, he thought. Simon was lucky to have such an amenable right-hand man.

"Baby, I don't ever want to hurt you. I just want to help you find your place, and help you accept who you are in this world. You're not going to be that uptight girl you were. You're gonna be our slut. But it doesn't have to be so bad. I'm gonna make you feel good, and then you'll know that I'll keep you safe and never let anything happen to you."

Chastity's head was swimming with contradictory impulses and thoughts. There was surely a part of her, hard-wired from growing up, that could never just accept being a slut. Nevertheless, what Javier promised sounded so much better than her life now. Freedom from the shame and the fear of being found out. She suddenly realized that Javier was the only person in the world she could possibly even be herself around now. An unbridgeable gulf, her secret shame, separated her from her old life. I am a slut, she realized.

As a show of acceptance and submission to Javier, Chastity wordlessly removed her clothes. By that point, she had resigned herself to another hard, nauseating session of face-fucking; Javier would probably pound her ass raw until he filled it with his cum, too. So when he pulled her into his body and kissed her, she was surprised. It was her first real kiss in quite some time.

Javier was gentle with her. Though he was pulling her hair, he did so only slightly, enough to bare her neck to his lips. He sucked her tender flesh while massaging the muscles of her neck with his tongue. Chastity, who had swallowed so much cum by that point, was nevertheless extremely inexperienced at sex and didn't know what she should be doing. Fortunately, Javier took the lead, driving her body where it needed to go and using his strong arms to cradle her into him. As her arousal grew, he moved to kiss and fondle her breasts. Of all the girls he had fucked at Simon's suggestion, Chastity might be the most beautiful, he thought. She had this amazing innocence: the rosy cheeks, the casual, wind-blown blonde hair, the thin but always cherry-red lips that set off her smooth, milky skin. Chastity was one of those rare girls who was neither too skinny, curvy, or muscled. Her body seemed so natural and feminine, and Javier felt himself swell as he caressed her womanly body.

In another world, a world without Simon, a girl like this would have been his dream. For now, he was doing a job, albeit one that no longer seemed like a chore. Simon had been clear: don't fuck her, make love. It was a different skill-set than the one he had been honing recently. Javier had never really been in love, but he thought that if he was in love with her, he would have made her feel like this, like she was treasured, like she was a prize.

Chastity began to slowly, tentatively remove his clothing. Every move she made still seemed fearful, as if she might make a mistake and bring back the fierce and abusive man who had first taken her anal cherry. The fear and trepidation, though, only made her more desirable. It was like this was her first time, and the feeling of insurmountable power he held over her heightened Javier's arousal. This girl wants to fuck me because she's afraid of me, he thought.

Once they were both nude, Javier slid between her legs to lap at her now dewy cunt. His tongue elicited a breathy moan. No one had ever done this before. Chastity felt a warmth spread throughout her body, as she relaxed fully for perhaps the first time in months, at least while sober, that is. Her fears and hesitancy, her wariness that at any moment dozens of vicious, mocking frat brothers would burst through the door evaporated, at least for the moment. It was that psychological release as much as Javier's ever-moving tongue that set her off, as waves of pleasure rippled throughout her body. For a moment, time and space stood still, subordinated to the one real thing—pleasure. 

As her wits returned, Chastity realized something that would have seemed unthinkable before today. That was the best moment of my life. It wasn't the blissful haze of drugs—it was the feeling of a lifetime's worth of tension released in a wave of orgasmic pleasure. She suddenly felt like she could accept with stoic determination any punishment he would visit upon her, now that she had finally found relief.

Javier had no intention, at least not today, of punishing her, though. He pulled her in for a lingering, cum-flavored kiss. She tasted, again for the first time, her own tangy cunt. She didn't recoil, but accepted the experience as part of the whole. She sensed, almost intuitively, what would follow. As Javier moved beside her, she rose and took her place at the foot of the bed between his legs, gazing at his rippling muscles, flecked here and there with scars and the odd, small tattoo. He was more man than she had ever encountered, especially from those barbarian frat boys. They were really just boys—vicious, cruel boys, but boys nonetheless. Though most were older than Javier, at that moment he seemed to her to be the epitome of manliness.

Fortunately for Javier, sucking dick was one thing at which Chastity had a professional's level of experience. Simon's little deadlines had meant she'd learned, mostly through trial-and-error, the best ways to bring a man to a fully hard state, and how to get him off without the odd moments of teeth or inappropriate pressure that can ruin the momentum of a blowjob and cause her to suck for longer. She started what had become her routine, fondling his balls and delicately tracing her finger across his taint while oscillating her other wrist and pumping firmly at his shaft. Taking him as deep as she could, she did not neglect to swirl her tongue over his head and the sensitive area underneath. It was a phenomenal blowjob, but it was designed to get him off as soon as possible.

"Hey, slow down, baby," Javier said. "I'm not tryin' to cum just yet."

Chastity had expected, and even accepted, that Javier was going to cum in her mouth. Though she still loathed the salty, bitter taste of semen, she had submitted to his powerful dick and knew that a mouthful of cum would be the result. When he gently pulled her head from his cock and motioned for her to move her body up to kiss him, though, he shattered her expectations.

"I know you've probably swallowed a lot today. I just want to feel you from the inside, baby."

Chastity, not needing further instruction, lined up her slit with Javier's cock and sunk herself onto him. It took barely a moment for Javier's dick to fill her up, as her early orgasm had left her cunt glazed. The feeling of Javier inside her was thrilling. Chastity felt a sudden pang of doubt—what if I don't do it right, I don't make him happy?—before her body took over and she rocked her hips sensually, massaging his shaft with her clenching, undulating pussy. Javier pulled her body down to his, locking his lips with hers. Gyrating her pelvis into Javier's powerful dick while making out with him was the most genuinely erotic thing Chastity had ever experienced. There were no drugs, no coercion here, just two bodies completely in sync.

Chastity could feel something building inside her she'd never felt. Her first orgasm had been powerful, but superficial. It had spread through her head and across her skin. This feeling came from deep inside her, a feeling of fullness, and of an oncoming explosion she was powerless to stop. She wouldn't want to stop this feeling anyway—it was taking her over, causing her to make low, guttural moans that sounded like they came from someone else. Suddenly, Javier effortlessly rolled her over onto her back and began pulling her body into his, hands grabbing her firm, round ass and pulling her into him, as if she could never get close enough to him despite how deep his cock burrowed inside her. Meanwhile, he took first a nipple, and then an entire mouthful of breast into his mouth, a gesture both animalistic and affectionate.

For a second, she stopped breathing and thought this was what dying would be like. Then she let loose a high-pitched wail as her second orgasm crashed over her body like a massive wave on the beach. The feeling was like a rippling series of little orgasms, each one almost as strong as her first, as he ceaselessly thrust himself into her. She also felt a warm feeling inside herself, and realized that Javier was filling her with his seed. At that moment, she fervently wished he was impregnating her.

After remaining inside for little while longer, Javier finally withdrew his exhausted cock from her warm, inviting cunt. He turned to Chastity to see her crying, not the convulsive, emotional heaving of before, but instead a soft, joyful cry. He didn't want her to feel embarrassed or ashamed, but nevertheless reached over to dry her tears. She looked into his eyes, searching for signs of love or hate, the only things she'd ever gotten from him.

"I know I don't deserve anything from you," she said, "but I.."

Chastity's beatific glaze suddenly became pensive. She was searching for her courage, what little remained.

"I can be good to you. I'll do whatever you want me to do. I know I'm a slut now, but I'll be your slut. Just make me feel like this."

Javier knew he couldn't promise her much. Most girls wouldn't exactly be losing their shit over a quick and easy fuck, but this girl was different. Simon had mind-fucked her so hard that she was ready to throw herself at him for a couple of sweet words and a chance to cum without getting "sperm bank" written on her forehead in permanent marker. Christ, what a psycho, he thought of Simon, not that he was exactly innocent in this whole charade.

"Baby, I'll be here for you. I can't get you F and I can't make it so you don't gotta go there. But when you need me, I'm here."

"Do you have to go?," she asked plaintively, obviously letting her preference known.

"Nah, baby, I got all night."

Chastity nuzzled her head into Javier's chest, pushing her full breasts into his side.

"When you're ready, I... I want you to do it to me again. If you want to."

Javier was sure he could fulfill her request.

***

It was Sunday, a few days after their argument, before Simon saw Katie again. The positive report he received from Javier meant he could focus on this part of his plan almost exclusively. Chad was organizing the regular logistics of the Halloween party, although he was proving resistant to Simon's demand that the party consist only of brothers and a guest list Simon had approved. There was plenty of time for Javier and a handful of the more reliable brothers to secure the night's entertainment and make sure that the visiting elder statesmen saw the positive changes he was bringing to Alpha Delta. 

Simon heard the bell he had installed ring. He ascended the staricase from the sub-basement into the dingy, but spacious area where the brothers held their regular nightly parties. Sully approached him, his eyes glazed over most likely from a couple of bong hits.

"Your, like, lady is here," he said.

Simon didn't appreciate his tone. He thought there was a possibility that he'd drive Katie to come here, to a place she feared and even hated. Before the fight he provoked, they had spent time in her room, in the coffee shop near the campus drag, just about everywhere but the AD house. He needed to set up tonight properly.

"On the way. "

When he received Katie into the impressive entryway, he hoped the days apart had been painful for her. If so, it would make his plans that much easier to pull off. 

"Hey, can we get out of here?," she asked him. "I think we really need to talk."

She seemed like a bundle of nerves. Simon agreed and told her he knew where they should go. Whisking her away in his car, Simon brought her to a little spot outside of town, a tiny, well-appointed restaurant surrounded by the immense pines of the forest. This isn't the kind of place you break up with someone, Katie thought, so at least I've got that going for me.

"I want to make myself clear right away," Simon told her. "I'm not telling you to stop writing, or quit being the person you are just to spend more time with me. The passionate, strong person you are—that's who I fell in love with." 

Simon and Katie had never used the "L word" before. It represented a calculated ploy to throw her off.

"But I don't feel like there's room in your life for me. I understand, you're kind of a rockstar now, and I'm just a regular guy at heart. But you're holding back from me. I never get the whole you—the real you."

Simon's accusations were utter bullshit, and he, of course, knew it. He had ginned up precisely the kind of fight that would arouse Katie's emotions without calling into questions any of her feelings for him.

"You love me?," she asked, her voice quavering.

"Yeah, dummy," he answered. "I thought you said girls were smart."

The humor and the seemingly genuine confession of love disarmed Katie.

"I love you too. I'm so sorry. I thought I had to hold you at arm's length to follow my dreams. I didn't think I could have both."

A waitress was approaching, and Simon felt relieved to know he could climb down from this emotional act a bit and regroup. He was getting better at this, but it still took concentration. He sensed that there might not be a better moment than this to advance his plan.

"Look, there's something I want to do, but I would only ever do it with you. One of the guys got some ecstasy, and he gave me some. It supposed to open you up and make you feel closer to people. I don't want to take it alone or with anyone else, but if you're OK with it, I think we should do it together."

Katie was a bit shocked. Simon had a beer or two now and then, but never seemed interested in drugs before. She had to assume that Simon really thought they could get closer that way.

"I'll do it with you—when, tonight?"

"Yeah," Simon said, "but at your place. I don't want to be around those guys at all."

Katie felt good, like she always did when Simon criticized his brothers. She had "done E" before, not knowing it was a pretty weak and attentuated dose. Full strength E would have knocked her on her ass—a dose of Effitol meant that ass would get fucked instead.

"OK, we'll do it," she said, "tonight."

She had come with Simon halfway expecting him to break up with her. Now, they were going to share an intimate and powerful experience together. The quiet, romantic spot Simon had chosen reminded her in its way of their first date, the first night they'd slept together. I was in love with him even then, she thought.

***

April's face was buried in Claire's gushing snatch when they heard a knock at the door.

"Get that, sweetie," Claire entreated April. "But wipe your mouth first."

April didn't offer any resistance to Claire's will. In truth, she was happy to get a chance to stop tonguing her girlfriend's box, as she didn't really enjoy the experience. What she enjoyed even less was the sight before her—Javier with a couple of large boxes.

"Evenin' bitches," he said with a curious blend of malice and joviality. "Got your costumes for tonight." 

Javier made an exaggerated sniffing sound, lifting his nose in the air.

"Is that... pussy I smell?"

April was mortified, but Claire seemed unfazed.

"Damn girls, I'm sorry for interrupting."

Javier grabbed April by the waist and pulled her in close, acting like he was going to whisper in her ear while speaking loud enough for Claire to hear.

"Tongue-fucking ya girl in the AM—how do you two keep the magic alive?"

Claire flipped Javier the bird, but their rapport was almost playful. She didn't even seem to mind his hands all over her girlfriend.

"Well, you know I could bend both you sluts over and set you both straight, but I got a car full of this shit. Later."

April and Claire were once again alone. Claire started to pull down her shorts, eager for April to get back to eating her pussy. April dragged herself back to her spot at the foot of the bed.

"Baby, take that shirt off," Claire asked in a pouty, baby voice. "I want you free."

Sitting up to strip her shirt off and show Claire her gravity-defying tits, April suddenly had a thought.

"What do you think I'll have to do at the party?"

Both of them assumed that the Halloween party they would be forced to attend that evening would include some form of public sex for Claire. But thus far, April's maid assignment had not included anything that would remind her of the fateful night Javier and the dozen or so Alpha Deltas had gangbanged her. 

"They can't make you do anything," Claire replied, suddenly serious. "We have a deal. And he keeps them, even when you know he doesn't want to."

Claire soften her voice back to the cooing, lover's voice.

"Now come back here baby. And bring the big double-sided one with you."

It wasn't long before their clits would meet in the middle, each impaled on her own side of the foot long purple rubber dildo.

***

It was Halloween, and there was a distinct chill in the air. The Alpha Delta house looked amazing, decorated to look genuinely scary. Chad and the decoration committee (the idea of a fraternity decoration committee caused Simon to crack an evil smile) had done well. The entire entry hall, the two big common rooms, and even the kitchen was covered in faux cobwebs and fake, but from a distance convincing touches of gothic horror. It looked like a Hollywood vision of a medieval torture chamber. The fraternity's basement, where most of the festivities would take place, needed less decoration, since it already looked like the inside of a slaughterhouse. It was a bit less scary, a bit more cartoonish horror. No one would really be afraid of a room with a couple of giant punch bowls, after all.

The ADs were in subdued moods, though. In years past, their Halloween parties had been major campus draws. When Simon closed the party to only his invitations, there was grumbling, but most brothers assumed Simon would make it up to them like he always did. After all, three out of the five maids he hired regularly got them off in the most degrading and inventive ways.

Javier had already started arriving around 3 PM with the first of his deliveries, and Simon led him down with his quarry to the sub-basement, below the floor where the party would take place. A text from his father told him that the trustees would arrive at the party by 9 PM. That should have been plenty of time to complete the preparations for his big night.

Katie was wrapped around his finger. Just a couple of days before, he had convinced her to take F with him. Little did she know that he cheeked the pill and spit out at first chance. Once he had gotten her under the influence, Simon had his way with her. Some of his favorite degrading practices would be out of the question, unfortunately, since he couldn't leave any marks. He especially enjoyed whipping sluts and writing what he saw as simply accurate descriptions of their character and appearance on their bodies in black marker. He didn't want Katie to wake up and realize she'd been used, though, so he held himself in check, only doing to Katie's body what wouldn't leave a physical trace. He even held off on her ass, although he had ulterior motives for that choice as well. As for her mind—for the first couple hours, that was all but shut off. What she would remember was what came afterwards, the attentive lover, seemingly indefatigable, satisfying the deep hunger for stimulation in her throbbing cunt. The time before wasn't even a hazy memory—it was wholly lost to Katie.




We Rule the School Ch. 03



Back together and now "in love" Katie had been draped all over Simon the day before, until he finally had to beg off for some free time to prepare for the party. Katie had heard like everyone else that the party was not public anymore, and felt, for perhaps the first time, a little cocky that she had scored an invitation because of her relationship with Simon. She really was going to have it all.

A normal person would have felt nerves—more than nerves really: fear, guilt, remorse, lust. Simon didn't really feel any of those things. Today he was going to show some important people the things he owned, and let them know how he came to own them. It would set him on the way to bigger and better things. Where most guys would be engrossed with the sexual possibilities of the drugs Simon had in his possession, he was only focused on the power it gave him, and not just over the girls. If anything, Simon was more satisfied with the control he exerted over the other fraternity brothers. I don't need to fuck them to make them my bitch, he thought contentedly.

Katie's sudden prominence as a writer and controversial feminist on campus had been an extraordinarily pleasant surprise, albeit one he had consciously stoked from the beginning. The national committee would appreciate the degree of difficulty he had set for himself, as well as the artfulness of the tableau he had prepared. All he needed was to open her eyes a little, show her the truth of her situation, and allow her make her decision.

Driving to pick her up, his cock strained to burst through his pants. Winning, dominating other people and overcoming his own limitations, was his most powerful aphrodisiac. Things could still go wrong, of course, but when he saw Katie dressed in her costume, Rosie the Riveter, he wanted to cum right there. It was so unsexy, so stupidly intellectual and wry that he knew it would only impress the elders. He escorted her, hand in hand to his car and drove her to the house.

"These decorations are amazing!," she said, genuinely in awe. "I'm a little scared even." 

Simon couldn't resist the opportunity, this close to the moment of truth, of dropping once and for all the mask he had worn since he met her.

"You should be afraid Katie. Very afraid."

The thousand yard stare, piercing a whole in her, was genuinely chilling. He could be an actor, she thought. He's got the horror villain thing down.

Katie expected Simon to lead her to his room upstairs, but instead they descended a dark stairwell, first into the basement where they party would take place and then a second story downwards, where it was cool and darker than dark. Simon turned on a light. Katie expected a dank basement, possibly one of Simon's brothers to jump out with a rubber knife to scare her. Instead, she saw a recently finished, anti-septically clean room, with black and white, diagonal-pattern tiles and midnight blue walls. The room was small and virtually empty, save for a mid-sized brown leather sofa and a large, wall-mounted television. Doors on every wall undoubtedly led to other rooms of undetermined purpose.

"Have a seat. I have two things to tell you."

Katie felt nervous but had no reason to doubt Simon. she sat on the couch. Simon began talking first in his boyfriend voice.

"The first piece of news I have is an internship offer. I know you say you don't want my family to use its influence, but my father is a major donor to Planned Parenthood. They have spot for a paid summer intern in their media department, and it's yours if you want it."

Katie was bowled over. All her dreams were starting to come true.

"There is one thing, though. The other thing I need to tell you. They probably aren't going to hire a stupid fucking slut who lets a dozen guys use her face for target practice, though."

Katie thought she misheard Simon for a moment. His words were so out of character, so unlike the person she knew and thought she loved, that they were literally impossible. It took Simon flipping on the television and pressing play to shake her from her stupor.

On the screen Katie saw a girl—her—with a fresh load of cum on her face.

"Beg for it, slut!," the crowd cried.

"Gib me it!," the slut (no, that's me!) slurred.

A cock entered the screen and began spurting a thick load into her right eye.

"Again, cock socket!"

"More!"

Two cock entered above her head; unlike the previous dick that blasted her face like a cannon, they both dropped thick, viscous loads of cum onto her forehead before wiping their dicks off in her long, flaxen hair. 

"Want the rest?"

"Who's gonna fuck my pussy?," a clearly dazed Katie asked. 

On the couch, Katie turned white. She noticed Simon was still holding her hand and recoiled from him in horror. When did this happen? How did he have this video?

"Ooh, don't miss this part." 

Just then, what had to be seven or eight cocks, all aimed at Katie, unloaded, blast her with a ceasless barrage of jizz, painting her face sticky white and covering her delicate, refined features with a film of thick semen. The camera panned down to catch her playing with her pussy, two fingers jammed as far as they could go as she frantically tried to get herself off.

"My pussy!," she said, with a desperate pout.

"Somebody stuff this bitch now, so maybe she'll shut the fuck up."

The cruel voice was unquestionably Simon's. She now fully realized that he had used her, gotten her high in order to make her amenable to the salacious acts playing out on the screen before her. I don't remember any of this, she thought. I remember it so much different.

"I know what you're thinking," Simon told her. "I fucked you later and you came all over my dick, maybe a dozen times. But first I pimped you out to the guys and made a little movie. It's really good—I fast-forwarded to the best part, but you'll see the rest some day. And now you're wondering what I'm going to do to you and how fast you can get away." 

Katie felt fear, of course, and disgust, but most of all a profound sense of betrayal, even heartbreak. Despite her utmost attempt to maintain some dignity, her whole body began to shake and she bawled like a little girl who'd skinned her knee. Simon thought it was so childish and embarrassing, even more so than the part of the video, his personal favorite, when Katie begged for the guys to piss in her face. Although he knew that in her state at that point she didn't understand what she was asking for, part of him wanted to believe that she had really grasped, in that fleeting moment, where she belonged in the great chain of life, and accepted her place, kneeling in one of those plastic kiddie pools while frat boys relieved their full bladders onto her face and mouth.

"You're not going anywhere, but I am going to let you get away after tonight. I wasn't kidding about the job—it's yours, if you want it. They, of course, don't know about this yet, but they will if you don't do what I say for the rest of the night. After tonight, I'll never bother you again, unless you come to me to score more F. Then I'll have you fucked like you'll never get fucked again. You won't shit right for a week, bitch."

Simon's callous sadism was expressed in even, emotionless tones. She knew in her bones he meant everything he said.

"You can go on telling people that we're all equal. You know what? I don't even think you're all that wrong. Women and men are equal in my book—but not to me. You need to understand that I'm better—than you, obviously, but everyone else too. You'll never meet anyone like me again, and I fucking guarantee that one day in the rest of your stupid life you'll start fingering your pussy and get yourself off thinking of me. And it'll be today you think about."

Katie was devastated, broken. Keeping this secret meant doing what he demanded of her tonight; telling someone would make her probably an outcast, and at the very least meant her comfortable life would be ripped from her. Really, it was an easy decision.

"I'll do whatever you say. For tonight only, right?"

"Don't worry," Simon assured her, "after tonight you'll be worthless to me."

***

"The place looks great, Chad. We hear you're responsible for doing the decorating," asked the stern, grey man in the business suit.

"Yes sir, me and some of the guys put everything up for the party. We just wish more people could come," Chad responded.

Although he was the fraternity's president, he was surprisingly out of the loop for most of the party's preparations. The five men huddled together, talking in hushed tones.

"We're satisfied with what we know thus far about the party. Lead on."

Chad guided the men through the entryhall into the main basement, where everything was supposed to take place. Unlike the parties from previous years, there was no fashionable late arrival this year. By 9:15, the basement was as full as it was going to get. The brothers were all in costume, forty-odd Patrick Batemans, Heath Ledger-style Jokers, and Hannibal Lecters. Simon had indicated a psychopath theme for the party, and the brothers weren't that creative. Interspersed among the brothers were others, though, seven in all. Unlike the brothers' costumes, which never left any doubt as to who was who, these costumes were full-body, covering the mystery guests from tip to tail. There was a Pikachu, an Ollie the Eagel, Armstrong's mascot, a remarkably short gorilla, and assorted muppets and furry creatures. It was certainly a strange blend.

"Gentlemen!" A loud voice pierced the din of background conversation and footsteps shuffling across the concrete floor. "I'm so glad you've arrived. Please, get a drink and relax. We're about to start."

Simon entered the room from the dark sub-basement stairwell like Nosferatu escaping his crypt. Other brothers had set out to dress like frightening psychopaths. Simon wasn't in a costume at all, just his regular clothes. He owned the room with his voice and gaze. He was the real thing.

"I want to welcome you to our party, and to thank Chad and his helpers for the decorations, which really do set, I think, the right mood. I'd also like to thank our maids; oh gentlemen, surely you know about them? They've been keeping us all very happy around here. Every thing is cleaned out as often as it needs to be."

Some chuckles rippled throughout the gallery, silenced by a motion of Simon's hand.

"I realize the event lacks a little bit of its past luster, but I thought I'd make it up to you with a little bit of entertainment. We have some very special dancers with us."

With that, the various mysterious costumed guests walked towards Simon assembling around him.

Without anyone seeming to move, suddenly music began to play, one of those corny old Halloween mix-tapes with "Monster Mash" and a dozen or so forgettable "spooky" songs. It was an odd choice to dance to.

Arrayed around Simon, the mystery guests started to dance, apparently attempting to be sexy. The effect was much more funny, and even a bit confusing. They weren't coordinated—they could barely see one another even, and the bizarre, body-masking costumes made it difficult to take their dancing seriously. Chad was mortified; did Simon hire the world's worst strippers?

After an excrutiatingly long minute, Simon cleared his throat, and, virtually in unison, the dancers removed the bottom halves of their costumes. If anything, the comic effect was now heightened. On top, they were animals or cartoon characters, while on bottom they each wore a different color thong, the seven shades of the rainbow and all in the same cut. Their bare legs were pale, tanned, the golden, light brown of Chinese girls, some thin and a bit bony, others voluptuous and full. The audience was now on edge, waiting to see what would happen next. Their relative lack of dancing ability was much less of a concern now.

Snapping his fingers loudly, Simon triggered the next round of stripping. Oversized, furry tops fell to the floor, revealing shear, matching bras. Here and there a pair of nipples, clearly visible through the thin material of the bra, stiffened. By this point, a handful of the brothers had begun to whisper one another, signalling their recognition of at least a pair or two of the tits, in combination with any memories of asses or pussies from the past few months. Simon was unfazed. The brothers weren't the audience; in fact, they were part of the show. Those five men in business suits, one of who was his own father, were all that mattered.

"I think we can dispense with this charade now," Simon bellowed.

At that moment, the final component of the costumes was chucked, leaving the seven girls exposed for all to see, as they continued to dance as sexily as they knew how, following Simon's instructions to the letter.

April's big tits jiggled uncontrollably in her red bra.

Claire's nipples were one of the pair that had visibly stiffened early on. Her translucent orange bra betrayed her dark brown nipples.

Chastity was admittedly a shitty dancer, but the bright yellow lingerie against her face skin made her look like an innocent flower waiting to be plucked.

Steffi, tall and athletic, looked regal in a green ensemble. Her hips had a natural gracefulness, and she seemed surprisingly practiced at dancing seductively.

The others were less well known. Two Asian beauties, Hannah and Wei Lin, looked stunning in blue and indigo respectively. Although both were Chinese, they made a striking contrast, Hannah long and lithe and Wei Lin short and busty. 

Finally, a good number of brothers remembered Kent's girlfriend Candace, who looked good enough to eat in her violet bra, her tits almost bursting out as she shook them hypnotically in front of the stunned audience. 

"Well, is this a fucking orgy or what? Brothers, fuck these bitches stupid. They're all three-holers!"

As the brothers closed in on the girls, who had stopped dancing and looked positively terrified, he stopped them suddenly.

"Except this one," he said, pointing at April. "No one can fuck her." 

There was general sound of frustration. She might have been the prize of the bunch.

"I know, I know. I want you to take that frustration out on her little girlfriend here, though," he said evilly, gesturing at Claire, whose tough outer shell dissolved almost immediately. "Really tear her ass up. She shouldn't be able to walk out of here too easy."

April looked over at Claire, who had, in her own way, begun to dominate April in a way that reminded her how distantly of Simon himself. She could have resented her for that, but in that moment April felt nothing but pity. Claire had kept her safe, had kept for as long as she could out of the brothers' beds. With just her eyes, Claire begged April to save her this time.

"Wait!"

Simon wasn't sure if this moment was going to happen. It was immaterial to him, outside of a certain kind of clinical curiosity.

"You can fuck me too. Just don't hurt Claire."

There was a moment of silence, almost shocking in a room packed with horny frat boys offered a group of whores to fuck as they pleased. Finally, Zeke pierced the tense quiet as only he could.

"So start eating her cunt, ya dumb bitch. She just saved you from gettin' your asshole blown out."

Everyone waited for the first act, the icebreaker that would set loose the chaos to come. Crouched at April's feet, looking up at her statuesque body as if she were worshipping a goddess, Claire slowly peeled off April's panties and moved her face within millimeters of April's cunt.

"You know," Claire said in something between a whisper and a prayer, "I'm not really gay. At all."

"Just relax and eat, baby," April replied, genuinely shocked.

Claire burying her head into April's pussy was the signal for the brothers to rush the girls, forcing most of them to ground at first to stuff their throats with cock. Simon strode purposefully towards the men in suits, around the splayed body of Candace, whose sloppy cunt was accomodating Deacon, one of the brothers who had blown his load on her face for the picture to send Kent. Brothers seemed to copy one another—once Candace was the first to get her pussy stuffed, soon all the girls were either laid out with their hands hanging off tables, getting their cunts filled at the same time as their gullets, or maneuvered on their hands and knees to offer their pussies for doggystyle penetration while blowing whoever was next in line in front of them. Simon was sure that the first guy to cram his cock up one of the little sluts' assholes would trigger another wave of imitation.

"Really well done, son," one of the men told him. It wasn't his father, who as always maintained the faint sense of disapproval that never changed, regardless of Simon's accomplishments.

"Thank you, sir," Simon replied. "You're of course welcome to use these whores as you see fit, although I do want to stress that in a formal sense, they aren't in fact whores. They're students at the college here, and they all willingly came here tonight once they came to understand what I could offer."

The men seemed impressed and talked among themselves again, excluding Simon from their deliberations.

"I apologize for interrupting," Simon interjected, "but before you sample any of them, I hope you'd be kind enough to follow me downstairs for the main event."

Calling the full-blown fuckfest behind them an opening act peaked their interests.

"Lead the way, young man."

Simon escorted the men downstairs, explaining his take on the scene playing out upstairs as they descended.

"The sluts you see up there were part of a little program, almost an experiment you might say. I've come into possession of a drug that, at least for now, has opened up some interesting opportunities."

"You're not selling drugs, son? It's beneath us," his father chided.

"No, sir, I'm not. You know better than anyone else that money is that last thing I'm interested here. No, the effects you saw upstairs were, you could say, indirect ones of the drug. Basically, they want it so bad they'll do anything, and only I have it, again at least for right now. Just in case, I usually tried to focus on girls of limited means. They couldn't afford it even if they could find it."

Simon entered the room where Katie and he had watched their little homemade porno. He directed the mean towards the door to their right.

"I started small, just a couple, but built up. Only a few have really resisted—well, we'll talk about that. And they've solidified my control over the rest as well. I think it's more than the rewards—"

The oldest of the men interrupted Simon.

"They're afraid of you! It's just wonderful," he said, clasping his hands with glee.

"I believe so, sir. And now, what I've poured the bulk of my work into. Before we go in, I need to share a few things. You've all read the article, right." 

The men nodded, some beginning to chuckle to themselves. Simon's speechifying wasn't over yet, though.

"I can assure you her work is only getting more prominent. But that first piece—well, I don't have to tell you how meaningful the first time is, do I? So for you, I want to share that first time, that article with you, together with another first time. Ms. Greenwood has graciously agreed to give a public reading."

With that, Simon opened the door and led the men into a spacious, well appointed room. Five comfortable leather chairs, arranged in a semi-circle, faced a long, padded black table. At the head of the table, closest to the chairs was a small lectern, with a few pieces of printed white paper arranged for a reading. In the far corner of the room was what appeared to be a large dog bed, fit for a St. Bernard, with a thin, blonde, girl hunched over with her head down against the wall. She lay on her shins, with her arms tucked across her knees and her narrow hips and ass protruding towards the doorway. A modestly-sized, transparent butt plug was firmly wedged in her rectum and she seemed to be whispering something to herself.




We Rule the School Ch. 03



"Katie, come and introduce yourself," Simon said.

Katie knew not to hesitate. Bracing herself a bit against the wall, she rose, the plug still firmly ensconced in her backdoor, and walked gingerly towards the assembled dignitaries.

"Hello, sir, I'm Katie. I won the science fair in sixth grade."

She shook the man's hand. He looked dumbfounded, and Katie knew now from what Simon had told her that these men were all like him.

"Hi, sir, my name is Katie. My father called me "Kitty Kat" when I was a little girl."

"Thanks for coming to my reading, sir. I first masturbated at age twelve."

"Pleased to me you, sir. In high school, some girls used to say I was in the "Itty Bitty Titty Committee." It shouldn't have bothered me, but I used to cry about it."

Finally, she reached the man she knew had to be Simon's father.

"It's wonderful to meet you, sir. Your son will be the first person to ever fuck me in the ass tonight."

Simon could sense that his father's typical casual disdain has slackened a bit. Is the old man impressed?

Katie climbed onto the table and positioned herself on all fours. She pulled her hair back into a pony tail so that it wouldn't cover her eyes as she read. The table was fairly narrow, and Katie couldn't move much to the side without risking a fall. It was long enough to meet her four inches under her knee. Fortunately, the padding meant she didn't experience much leg pain from her limbs dangling off the edge. She could feel a cold sweat break out. Simon had only given her one instruction—to read the whole article to them. She had to finish.

The men were rapt with attention and made no effort to disguise the bulges growing in her slacks. The image was such a strange contrast, their impeccable suits and grave demeanor on the one hand and their obvious erections on the other. She stared at them for one last moment, perhaps faintly hoping they would stop all this, that it was some malicious but ultimately sophomoric prank gone too far. How could these grandfatherly men sit by and enjoy this?

"Campus misogyny degrades women, by Katie Greenwood"

Simon slowly pulled the plug out of her ass, and she grunted in pain.

"Armstrong College is supposed to be a place where people from all walks of life can come and develop themselves to the fullest of their abilities."

Simon squirted for himself a handful of lube. He had toyed with the idea of fucking her ass dry, but was afraid she would definitely end up falling off the table that way. A dry ass-fuck, as he knew from experience, was actually quite uncomfortable for both parties. He planned to reserve those for bitches who really need to get a message.

"Yet all too often, Armstrong students, especially women, people of color, and LGBT people are excluded, denigrated, and outright abused on campus."

Simon lined his cock up and, without warning, forced the head all at once past the defensive ring of her sphincter. The pain, lube or not, was electric and Katie couldn't help but exclaim that Simon was tearing her apart. The men only looked pleased, and a bit impatient.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Oh my god, please, please."

Simon waited for a moment, with only the head of his cock in her asshole. Already, it looked vibrantly red and swollen. I should've given her a bigger plug, he realized. Katie had begun to hold her head down, defeated and agonizing from the anal intruder. Simon grasped her ponytail and pulled her head back sharply. She got the message.

"Time...and...again the administration has—" she paused to wince in pain a bit. "—ignored valid complaints about the demeaning and hostile environment for women on campus."

As she continued describing the insufficient response of the campus administration to the graffiti on the Women's Resource Center, Simon began irresistibly wedging his cock deeper and deeper into her asshole. He didn't plan to withdraw his cock a bit until he had bottomed out and felt her bony ass meet his pelvis. He'd put up with a little bit of pain inevitable for pounding her ass balls deep because of how much greater the effect would show on her.

"One of the... FUCK...your dick's too big.. one of the worst offenders is the campus...you're killing me... fraternities."

Finally her ass cheeks met his body, signalling that he'd gotten as far into her rectum as his cock would allow. Still holding on to her ponytail for leverage, he placed his other hand around her neck for a moment. He wanted to be choking her, with his schlong as far into her ass as possible, for the next part, which was his favorite.

"Reliable sources indicate that one fraternity has even hired students as maids—" here the men all chuckled—"and put them in degrading positions."

"Was this little slut one of these maids?," a grey-faced man asked Simon.

Simon paused from his ceaseless anal pounding of Katie to mop his brow for a second. She desperately needed the respite, and ever so slightly, her asshole began to relax just a bit and accept Simon's violation.

"Actually, no. This is more than just her first time getting her ass fucked. Today's the day she learned that she's a cum bucket, which was also some pretty exciting news for her."

At that point, with her face doubly red from shame and asphyxiation, Simon released her neck and hair and grasped onto her hips with both hands. He ruthlessly slammed his steel-hard cock into her virgin ass. Unlike a curvy slut like April, nothing on Katie jiggled or shook when she was getting fucked, unless you count her whole body. She was fragile and weak, and had Simon let go of her hips, he could have fucked her clear off the table and into the laps of his visitors. 

"Read," he said without affect.

"For true gender equality on campus, hierarchies of power must be challenged. All students must be treated with dignity."

That line was another favorite, and Simon slapped her ass hard, as if to punctuate it.

Katie was approaching the end of the article. Simon knew the grand finale was approaching. He peaked around Katie to see that the older men had all removed their cocks, and were stroking them vigorously. It was clear they had no compunction about doing this in front of each other. How many sluts had those guys fucked in, what, sixty years?, Simon wondered. Katie was in too much pain, and thus far too focused on finishing the article to notice what was happening in front of her. As bad as the excruciating rectal assault was, their lascivious states made her feel on worse. She was oddly glad to have the article to focus on, even as she felt the hollowness of her words. Feminist arguments are just less convincing when your ass is streched around a fat cock.

"In short, what Armstrong needs are strong women willing to take on anything to achieve their goals."

The unintentional irony of the statement put a final point on Katie's article. Finally, Simon pulled his engorged prick out of her now thoroughly blown-out anus. Katie had finished the article as published, and only had Simon's addition left to read. Simon moved around to face her, soon joined by the other men, ringing her as she read the final words on the page.

"On the other hand, what do I know? I'm just a stupid slut who's about to be covered in cum."

With that Simon let loose a salvo of jizz, striking her as if on purpose in her open left eye. The stinging pain caused her to wince and attempt to blink the cum out of her eye. She closed her right eye, and thus couldn't see who was the next man to paint her cheek with his seed. There was only a moment's pause between each blast, as shot after shot of salty cum began to cover her face, dripping in large glops onto the page she was still holding. When the last man had shot his wad onto the bridge of her nose, she heard the sound of zippers.

"Truly remarkable!"

"You've got something going here, and we'd love to see how this all plays out."

"Expect all the support you want from us—you've got a great future Simon."

The men were now chatting casually. Neglected for the moment, Katie finally cleared her eyes enough to open them and survey the scenes. They were all fully clothed again, while she was still, of course, a naked, cum-splattered mess. Moreover, they seemed to be completely oblivious to her. It was as if she had disappeared once their immediate gratification was over. Since no one was watching her, she slinked off of the table and made her way towards the small attached bathroom. There was no shower, only a toilet and sink. She only wanted to rinse her face of the cum, which was rapidly growing cold and stringy on her face. Right as the grasped the lever of the door handle, though, she felt a firm hand on her other arm, pulling her away. 

"Where do you think you're going?," Simon asked her.

"Please, just let me wash my face and go home," she pleaded. She had no leverage here, but hoped, against all experience, to be able to move him to pity. She had pledged him the whole night, and god's knows what else he could do. She could hear ungodly noises coming from upstairs and assumed she wasn't the only girl getting fucked tonight.

"Here, let me," he said, again summoning up the voice of the guy she had fallen for. He sounded caring again, human again.

Simon opened the wooden door to the small pantry within the bathroom and withdrew a washcloth. He wet it and began gently wiping her face of the cum, rinsing the cloth when it became covered with semen. With a dry cloth, he toweled off her face, wiping the dewy drops of water left over from the washcloth and stepping back to admire her face. He saw her now, really saw her, for the first time: totally denuded, defenseless, alone in the world. She saw him too. Not the fake, boyfriend persona, but also not the sadistic, mocking bastard who had shattered her illusions. Looking deep into his eyes, she saw finally that they were ultimately empty—there was nothing behind them. She flashed back to his speech after their fight, when he told her that he never got to see her true self. She could appreciate the irony. 

Simon didn't really hate her for the same reason that he could have never loved her. She was surprised by her reaction: in spite of herself, she felt sorry for him. Surrounded by worshippers, with women groveling at his feet—with all the power in the world, he would be forever truly alone.

"I meant what I said. The video's gone, and those guys are mine. They're not going to talk. And the job's real too. Fuck, I hope you find whatever you're looking for."

Simon paused for a moment and bored a whole right into her with his piercing, hollow eyes.

"But I meant the other thing too. You're gonna walk out of here through a goddamn shit show. And everyone of those girls signed their asses over 100% freely. You never did. I had to cheat, just a little, but enough. I really did trick you, and I hope you don't start craving for more F. So I meant it, if you come back for more, I'll split you open and serve you on crackers to these motherfuckers. You can decide what that means."

He turned to walk away, allowing her to gather her clothes and dress. Over the din of fucking sounds from upstairs, she couldn't hear what he was saying to the assembled men. At that point, she made a beeline for the stairwell and never looked back. At that moment, she didn't know whether she would ever see him again.



We Rule the School Ch. 04



Katie Greenwood couldn't decide if she was looking forward to a confrontation or dreading a meeting with her ex. Last Halloween, Simon, the guy she thought was the perfect boyfriend, had more or less blackmailed her into a public, humiliating anal sex experience. She still wondered why she had gone along with the whole scheme. Simon's blackmail was based on a video made while we she was under the influence of what thought was ecstasy. He had even forced her to watch some of it—the image of her own face, plastered with cum and hungrily begging for more cock was seared into her memory. She couldn't have that file getting out, where it could destroy her life even more. Moreover, Simon had used his connections to secure her a plum internship. Even after his humiliation of her, he had kept up his end of the bargain. All of her dreams were going to come true—she just needed to avoid Simon forever and get on with her life.

So why am I meeting that bastard, then? It wasn't the way she planned to spend a Saturday morning. The grey sky filtered through a thicket of dead trees as she walked towards the coffee shop inside the student union building. Simon had not attempted to contact her in almost five months. And now, just after Spring Break, he sent her a text message arranging a meeting. In fact, he ordered it; there was no asking. Katie knew exactly why he was looking for her now, though. The Daily Eagle, Armstrong College's student paper, had reported on the front page the investigation into allegations of hazing at Alpha Delta house.

The investigation into AD was all anyone was talking about. The most powerful house on campus was on the verge of losing its recognition and national charter. What the public didn't know was that any investigation worth a shit would reveal much more than just hazing. Katie knew a lot about the ADs now, enough to know that the hazing charges were ironically enough false. Though innocent of hazing pledges, the Alpha Deltas were in fact guilty of much worse—felony drug trafficking and rape, for starters.

Simon was sitting alone at a large table for four. Katie could tell he hadn't seen her when she entered, and she lingered a bit around the corner, watching his movements. Simon had a way of sitting perfectly still, as if his heart didn't beat. Yet his head always seemed to be moving, drinking in the surrounding, sizing people up, looking for something. Today, it was probably her. Steeling herself for an unpleasant conversation, she walked as confidently as she could over to Simon's table and sat down.

"I know why I'm here asshole. Don't try to act cute."

"Good," he replied. "I'm glad we don't have to bother with small talk. They're going to come to talk to you, ask you about what you saw in the AD house. You don't have to lie, not really. Tell them you didn't see any hazing of brothers. That's it."

Simon didn't need to threaten Katie; she could hear it lingering behind his words. In fact, she didn't plan to get herself wrapped up in the investigation anyway. She was afraid of Simon and mostly wanted him out of her life. Yet getting him out of her mind had proven almost impossible. In fact, the worst part of it all was the good memories of time spent with him. Those hurt more reliving the nightmare of Halloween. Out of all the days she spent with Simon, there were only a couple of bad ones, but they weighed so heavily that all of the good should have been cancelled out. Why can't I just forget about him?

"Look, I didn't come here to be threatened. I'll stay quiet but you have to answer my questions first."

"OK, shoot. Anything you want," he replied nonchalantly.

"Anything? Well what I most want is to go back in time and never meet you," she replied venomously. "But I'll have to settle for answers. I don't want to hear your sick fucking reasons for picking me or for what you did. I just want to know how you got me to say that stuff. I don't think ecstasy can do that to people."

Simon paused briefly. Katie had a sudden, dispiriting thought. Simon is the best liar I've ever met. How can I trust anything he says?

"There's a new drug. You don't really need the details. It makes...situations like yours possible. But it's all gone now, and the new batches are a lot weaker. Disappointed the shit out of me. It was a...temporary product that I used to—"

"—rape girls?," Katie interjected.

"Well, technically, just you," Simon responded. "Everyone else took it voluntarily, actually. I lied to you about what it was, so I guess what happened before Halloween was pretty much rape. But Halloween itself?"

Simon paused to sip his coffee.

"That's on you. Search your memory for how it went down. The only thing I ever threatened was to take away your precious internship. I never said I'd post it on the internet, send it to your friends, mail a copy to grandma. So Halloween is on you—you gave your ass up so you could get ahead. And, you know what? It was the right call."

Katie felt sick. In her heart, she knew he was right. Part of her disgust for these past few months had been with herself.

"Don't talk to me like that. Remember that you're begging me not to turn you scumbags in."

"I'm not begging for anything," Simon replied. "I'm letting you know that I know what's happening, and that you won't be saying anything. That's not a threat, it's an observation. But you had more questions, right?"

Katie's blood was boiling. She had hoped to keep it together for this meeting. She didn't want Simon to see her upset, to let him know he was getting to her. She had spent five months locked away, throughout the cold winter, alternately thinking about this day and trying to stop herself from thinking about it.

"Fine. What have you done with the video? Who else has seen it?"

"Well, which video? You should know your Halloween performance—everyone's actually—was filmed, too."

Katie would have been even more disgusted and despondent, had she not already assumed as much. Simon had basically built those rooms in the sub-basement himself, and keeping records seemed like the kind of thing he would do.

"Both."

"Well, at first I watched them alone and jerked off."

Simon was shameless, completely unfazed by such talk. Katie still found herself capable of surprise.

"Then, recently, I've watched them with my girlfriend. It was such a big moment for me, so watching them always gets me really hard. She didn't like seeing them at first, but now she knows she's in for a good fuck when I put one of them on."

Katie was horrified to know someone else had seen the tapes, especially, for some reason, another girl. Another feeling, which surprised even her, crept into the back of her mind: jealousy.

"So what's the plan for this one? Rape her on the quad while the marching band plays? Does she know what you are?"

"Good idea, let me write that one down," Simon joked. "Unlike you, she knows exactly who—what—I am. She was there on Halloween, in fact. If you'd like, you could always come back to my place and watch one of her tapes."

Katie couldn't believe a girl could be with someone like Simon willingly. Not when she knew what he was capable of. Yet she couldn't help but wonder about the girl. Katie had fled from the house that night but saw and heard some eye-popping stuff. Simon let the fraternity gang-bang his girlfriend?, she wondered, before correcting herself. Future girlfriend. Katie wondered what his angle was—not only was Simon not really the boyfriend type, but also it was strange for him to pick a girl he had basically treated like a whore as a girlfriend.

"Who is she? Do I know her?"

"Maybe. April Nelson."

Katie knew April. April was the kind of girl who made Katie ashamed of her flat chest and bony ass. April was built for sex, a walking wet dream. Katie was a beanpole, cute, but no April Nelson. Katie, 100% heterosexual Katie, got flustered when a girl—woman—like April was present.

Katie hastily stood up, cheeks glowing crimson. She could feel herself start to sweat, just a little.

"I'm done with this. Don't talk to me again."

Simon called out to her, loud enough for other people to here.

"So—gonna come over for a movie later?"

Katie's mind flashed to one thought, one she had suppressed until that moment.

I'm going to make him pay.

***

Word around campus was that the Alpha Deltas were starting to go soft. Hannah Johansson knew better than that. She was surrounded by three ADs at the moment, and every last one of them was hard enough to cut diamonds. They were all meant for her.

She felt a little light-headed, buzzed from smoking pot with the brothers, Deacon, Will, and...the one whose name she could never remember. Am I, like, always stoned around him? His name didn't much matter to her, though—he always had good weed and didn't choke her too much whenever he crammed his cock down her throat.

Oh yeah, she thought, when the tall, pudgy Alpha started stripping her of her leopard-print bra and panties, the last remaining bits of clothing after stripping for each bong hit. He's called Sketch. She half-remembered a story about him having some kind of school-girl fetish or something that got him the nickname.

Hannah knelt on the dirty rug in the party basement. Her long, straight black hair hung down past her narrow shoulders as she looked up at the three frat guys towering over her. She was already petite, and her position on the floor made them seem enormous. Her dark, almond eyes were open wide and her mouth hung just a bit open, as she breathed heavily. Her slender, graceful body strained forward a bit, and her ribs were slightly visible as her stomach curved in. Chocolate brown nipples, now hardened into two little bullets and turned slightly upwards, crowned her pert breasts, which the brothers liked to think of as a perfect, handful size.

Not many Asian girls came around AD—unlike the Ivies, Armstrong was mostly lily-white rich kids, trust-funders not smart enough go to Princeton mixed with a smaller group of scholarship kids to keep the academic profile strong. Hannah was from the latter group. She had come to Armstrong on a full ride, but with none of the disposable income of the average Armstrong student to live the kind of lifestyle she wanted.

Sucking off Alpha Delta brothers had become just a normal part of her life now. It wouldn't have come as much of a shock to anyone who had grown up with Hannah back in Minnesota, though. Back home, she was one of the few Asians in her class. Her white parents had adopted her as a baby from Vietnam and raised her in a strict Christian home, against which she rebelled as soon as she could.

Hannah didn't want to follow her parents' religious moralism, but most of all she hated the stereotypes of nerdy, shy, submissive Asian girls. She partied as hard as possible for suburban Minneapolis. Although she was too scared to do anything really crazy—no needles, no serious felonies for her—she nevertheless managed to piss off her exasperated parents to no end. They always managed to hear from a concerned neighbor or fellow churchgoer about the latest boy she had been spotted making out with, or they would catch her stumbling home inebriated. They feared she was on the path to becoming a drunken slut. As it turned out, they were mostly right.

Now her juvenile rebellion took the form of getting high and sucking off frat brothers on a near-daily basis. Simon had "introduced" her at the Halloween party, after Javier had given her a taste of F, the "wonder" drug for turning co-eds into fuck dolls. She didn't need to be addicted—she loved the drug and the fucking, at least for the most part. She also couldn't complain about leeching off the frat's largesse: not just weed and F, but liquor and some times a bit of cash, too. As long as she could stay in control and get what she wanted, being passed around the frat like a cum rag was just part of the college experience in her view.

The three brothers tonight were no stranger, although she didn't have any particular connection to them, anymore than three dozen other guys who had shot their wads in or on her. She had become pretty notorious at the frat: a reliable suck and fuck who was always down for anything, to a point at least. Hannah thought of herself as "one of the gang," popular and well-liked. The guys thought of her a bit differently: some of them even considered double-bagging it, considering how much dick she had taken in the span of a few months. A few actually followed through and wore rubbers, at least for fucking her up the butt.

Anal: the one thing she didn't like about sex. The brothers absolutely loved to fuck girls in the ass, and Hannah had first fallen prey to their lust for sodomy on Halloween. During the massive orgy that broke out when Simon left, Hannah had taken a lot of dick in the ass—not that she could remember anything, though. Her sore, abused asshole let her know the next morning what had gone down. Since then, she had usually managed to minimize the anal violations by developing her cocksucking abilities. She now held a mastery of the oral arts. Guys with drained balls rarely went through the trouble of cajoling her into opening up the back door.

Naturally tonight, though, Deacon had already begun trying to jam his middle finger straight up her asshole. Her tight anus had become exposed once Sketch moved to take a seat on the ratty old sofa against the back wall and Hannah had to crane forward a bit to keep his dick in her mouth. That was enough to give Deacon a clear shot at cramming a beefy finger into her rectum, and he seized his opportunity with relish. She squirmed a bit, knowing eventually he would get it inside. Usually when she was in a group, she could avoid getting fucked in the ass by jerking off any guys standing around while she was sucking a dick. So long as they got some stimulation, most of the brothers weren't really too aggressive. At least not any more—things had started cool down after a pretty insane beginning to the year. What she could never avoid, though, was getting a finger or two jammed in her rear entrance.

"Don't you love how this slut acts like she don't want it?," Deacon asked his friends.

"Hey!," Hannah half-shouted at him, pulling the wet, spit-covered cock out of her mouth. "Do you want a finger in your ass?"

Deacon shrugged.

"Naah. But I don't want some dude's dirty schlong in my mouth either, and you fuckin' love it."

Deacon and the guys laughed a bit. Hannah flipped Deacon the bird and stuck her tongue out.

"I'd take that tongue in my butthole!," Will exclaimed.

Hannah heard one of the girls from before she was around, a skinny chick named Claire, was known for her rimming proficiency. Hannah had fortunately avoided that task. They had dropped the whole maids thing back in the fall. She was glad she never had to interrupt her fun to do some kind of bullshit cleaning job.

"Get back to sucking," Sketch demanded. "My nuts are fucking overflowing tonight."

Sketch was one of the few brothers who Hannah could honestly say struggled to get girls to go out with him. Consequently, he tended to blow the largest loads, since most of the brothers were cumming at least twice a day. Sketch once sold her an ounce of weed and told her she could pay him by wearing a face full of his cum and asking the Epsilon Sigma Thetas next door to borrow some flour. That little trick got her fucked by three guys at the neighboring house, with not a bit of flour to show for it.

"Damn, I got another girl to meet in, like, twenty minutes," Deacon complained. "I need to bust my nut quick."

"Fuck no, man," Sketch told him. "My weed means I get to cum first."

"I'll fuck her then," Deacon reasoned with him.

Hannah tried to pull out Sketch's cock, but he held her head firmly into his sweaty crotch. His below-average dick meant that Hannah could, with some effort, take him completely to the root. Needless to say, Sketch pretty much insisted on it, and with the right amount of force, he could cram his cock into her throat and bob her head with his hands until he got himself off. He buried her face into his wiry, saliva-dampened pubic hairs, tickling her nose and occasionally making her want to sneeze.

"Have at it then," Sketch proclaimed, not pausing a bit to ask Hannah about her opinion on the matter.

Fortunately, Hannah had a wealth of cock-sucking experience, even before becoming one of the Alpha Deltas' favorite sperm receptacles. First, one of her adoptive cousins had "taught" her as a teenager how to give a blowjob. He had acted liking he was doing her a big favor. When she pretty much devoured her first high school boyfriend's dick, he knew he had found the perfect girl. In addition, she had a pretty high tolerance for cum as well. She became a frat house favorite for never cum-dodging like so many of the skanks they brought in. While they casually called her "slut," Hannah figured that they basically liked her and treated her like she belonged.

"Gonna stretch that sphincter tonight, girl. That rectum needs some wreckin'."

Deacon always thought he was so funny, always had some dumb line to try to puff himself up. Hannah wanted to protest, but did nothing. She kept jerking off Will while Sketch skull-fucked her. Deacon, the fat, liquor-soaked son of a hedge fund manager, was pretty gross, and Sketch was wiry and unappealing. At least Will's cute, she thought. Sweet, too. Will had tousled hair, like a Kennedy, and a toothy, friendly smile. He played club lacrosse and was fit, unlike fatass and beanpole currently taking their turns on either end of her. Hannah's focus was on keeping her balance and bracing herself for the inevitable. She felt the tip of Deacon's cock (unfortunately for her, one of the girthier ones) pressed against her rosebud. This is gonna hurt.

While she hated and rebelled against stereotypes of Asians, at least two of them, in her case, were true. First, she was great in school, which was how she got a scholarship at a place like Armstrong. Second, her pussy was remarkably tight, and her asshole even tighter.

Deacon had learned to always use a copious amount of lube for anal sex. He had no desire to hurt her—he just wanted to shoot his wad deep inside her as soon as possible.

One of his favorite moves was to go out with a girl and let her start to go down on him without telling her that he had just fucked another girl in the ass. He could always tell which girls were keepers: the ones who soldiered on, cock in mouth, despite the rancid taste.

"Goddamn, slut," he bellowed, "your ass is like a furnace."

Deacon hadn't cum that morning, because the sorostitute he had fucked the night before was too nauseous and hung over to give him morning head.

"Hey, stop pulling her hair, dumbass. She's not finished polishing my knob," Sketch protested.

Hannah, unable to speak with her mouth full of cock, started to shift positions. Her knees burned a bit from the rug and her jaw was getting pretty tired. Hopefully Will would fuck her pussy so she could get a bit of a break. Fortunately, she could tell Sketch wouldn't last much longer.

"Don't cum on her face, man," Will asked, "I don't want your nasty jizz on my stomach."

"Don't...worry," Sketch replied, clearly approaching the point of no return, "this is all going down the hatch."

With that, Sketch clamped his hand on the back of Hannah's head tightly and blasted the back of her throat with the first thick shot of semen. She knew to swallow it as quickly as possible because it certainly wouldn't be the last. Sketch let her withdraw her cock a little bit so that she wouldn't puke. Thanks to using one hand on Will and one to balance herself because of Deacon's increasingly forceful anal pounding, Hannah didn't have a free hand to jerk off Sketch's cock like he liked. Nevertheless, he continued firing shots of cum into her mouth. She could feel his veiny member twitch violently against her tongue, as he filled her mouth with his rank, salty seed. This time she held it in.




We Rule the School Ch. 04



Sketch—hell most of the guys—loved for girls to show them the cum after filling up their mouths. Hannah was all set to open her mouth and show Sketch how she had preserved his seed when Deacon gave a vigorous final thrust, jostling her wildly.

"BANZAI!!!!"

"Vietnamese, dipshit," Will replied wryly. "Not Japanese."

Deacon didn't care, of course. He just loved saying whatever "Asian" shit he could think of whenever he came from fucking Hannah.

"Fuck, dude, you made her spill my cum on the fucking rug," Sketch complained.

"I'm sorry," Hannah apologized, her mouth now mostly free of cum. "He just slammed into me at the wrong time."

"I mean, this is what you're here for, and you can't keep the goddamn cum in your mouth for two seconds?"

"Hey!," Will objected, stroking Hannah's hair a bit to make her feel better. "don't be so hard on her. I think you're a great little cocksucker."

Sketch stifled his disappointment as Hannah smiled weakly at Will. Her hand looked so small and dainty wrapped around his impressive tool. She stared into his abs a bit—don't see too many fit guys here, she thought. Deacon pulled out of her ass and started shuffling around the room, looking for something. Hannah didn't want Sketch to get mad at her, so she took his deflating cock into her mouth to clean him off.

"Don't worry," she assured him, "I'll do it right next time."

Sketch grumbled something indecipherable before taking off upstairs with Deacon. Only Will remained.

"So, I bet you're, like, tired," he said, with a note of what seemed like genuine concern. "If you want, you can just jerk me off onto your face."

Hannah appreciated what she saw as an expression of kindness. For his part, Will just loved blowing his load over the gorgeous Vietnamese girl. A faceful of his cum made Hannah all the more beautiful.

"Thanks. I'll owe you one too," she said with a smile.

Although Will was plenty aroused by the naked, freshly fucked Asian co-ed double-fisting his fuck pole, a hand-job couldn't compare to a hole. It took her a few minutes to bring him to climax. As promised, though, he covered her mouth and chin with a thick, gooey coating of sperm. Like a true gentleman, he avoided shooting it into her eyes.

"Is that finally over?," came a cold, mocking woman's voice from behind Hannah.

She startled a bit and almost lost her balance.

"We have things to discuss."

Hannah turned. For whatever reason, being naked, even covered in cum, around the guys was no big deal to her. Having a girl see her look and act like a common street whore, however, reminded her of how other people likely viewed her. Hannah felt a rush of shame and humiliation.

The girl, red-haired, fair-skinned, and gorgeous, was Miranda. Few people knew much about her, other than the fact that she and Simon seemed to have known each other for a long time. She had been one of the maids, the only one not to get fucked. Now people knew why: they had a connection. Speculation was rampant among the other brothers about why she had been there at all; most settled on seeing her as a kind of spy to keep everyone honest, although there were some more esoteric theories as well.

"Me and you?," Hannah asked. "What things?"

"Not just me and you. Simon too. Get some clothes on—or don't. Same to me."

Hannah looked for her clothes.

"Shit, Doctor Doom wants you," Will said. The brothers had started calling Simon that behind his back a while back, and it stuck. Secretly, Simon liked the name. After a moment, Hannah found her underwear and crumpled dress.

Motherfucker!, she thought. He must think that's funny. While Hannah had been distracted with Will, Deacon had used her dress to wipe off his cock on the way out. There was no way she was going to wear a dress now stained with lube, cum, and her own ass. Bra and panties it is, she thought, slipping into the only clean things she had.

"Hey, I've got a clean lacrosse jersey in my bag," Will offered.

What a sweetheart, she thought. Hannah went to give Will a thank-you kiss. He recoiled.

"Ummm, remember your face is...well, you know."

Hannah blushed. Not wanting to use her ruined dress and risk getting any ass flavor in her mouth, she did the sensible thing and pushed as much of the cum as she could into her mouth and swallowed.

"OK, I'm ready."

Miranda led Hannah downstairs, into the sub-basement below. In one of the small rooms off the main entry room, the two girls found Simon and Javier, intensely poring over something on the desk facing the door.

"Thanks, that was quick," Simon said to the red-head. "Have a seat."

Hannah sat down on the metal folding chair facing the desk and crossed her bare legs. A small puddle of lube, which Deacon's rampaging cock had forced deep into her rectum, began its slow descent down to her anus. She could feel it making the spot she sat on wet, a constant reminder to go along with the dull pain of the thorough buttfucking she had just received.

"I wanted to talk to you because we really like you here at AD, Hannah."  She smiled, feeling like she was being rewarded.

"You really fit in here, and nobody has ever had a complaint or bad word to say about you. I thought you deserved an opportunity."

"What do you mean?," she asked, eager to learn what Simon had in store for her.

"Well, we might need your help with something. You know about this bullshit investigation, right? Well, Miranda and Javi have been working on this for a while. I won't bore you with the details. Let's just say there are things we think you could do to help us, and if you did these things, we could reward you. And we mean rewards you'll want."

"What kind of stuff do you need me to do?," she asked.

"Things you'll like to do. Things you're good at. Easy things, for someone as smart and...talented as you."

"So I do you favors and I get...what, exactly?"

"Well, it depends. If you try your best and it doesn't work out, then something small. A couple grand. Some F. Maybe we find a way to get you better grades or something trivial like that. But if you succeed? Then you can ask for something big—new car big, cushy job opportunity big—and I'm sure we can find a way to satisfy you."

Hannah eyes lit up. She had never really been deprived, but her lower middle class, midwestern parents weren't exactly living a lavish lifestyle. Simon was rich beyond her imagination, and she knew he must have really needed her help to come to her.

"What do you need me to do?," she asked. "I'm in."

Simon was pleased. He whispered a few things to Javier, who touched Miranda lightly on the arm. The two of them left the room, leaving Hannah alone with Simon. Simon got up from his chair and walked over towards Hannah. She was unsure whether she should get up or stay put until he came over and sat in the chair beside her. Her eyes locked with his as he placed his warm, dry palm onto the top of her left thigh and gently squeezed, moving it up and down her leg. She shuddered a bit, not knowing what would come next.

He gestured for her to take the jersey off, and she did. Hannah didn't ask if he wanted the bra off, but instead went ahead and removed it. She expected Simon to paw her tits or even start sucking them, but instead, he stayed a bit distant, only using his hand to part her legs. Without waiting to be told, she removed her panties, giving him a full view of her waxed pussy, now dewy from arousal.

All that fucking and sucking had left her wanting her turn. It wasn't the first time the guys had gotten off without bothering with her pussy. Still, he seemed only interested in appraising her, sizing her up. She had never spent much time around Simon, but the Doctor Doom nickname seemed to fit him. He was intense, a little scary, and almost preternaturally in control.

Something about Simon's eyes told Hannah not to look away, even as she longed to break their gaze. The cool air of the sub-basement made her nipples stand out hard. Simon moved slowly, but deliberately, tracing his fingers slowly closer to her yearning pussy. All the focus was on her, and when his finger finally flicked across her clit, gently, then more insistently, she was ready to yield to him. She finally lowered her eyes, closing them a bit and biting her lip as Simon played her like a violin.

Simon brushed her hair back and she inclined her neck almost instinctively. His motions became more insistent, and he settled into a smooth, easy rhythm of manual stimulation. She was moments from cumming—her body felt like it would dissolve into a quivering mass on the floor. When he was less than a couple inches from her ear, he began to whisper.

"So, I hear you really know how to suck a cock..."

"YES!"

Hannah came hard. Anything you want, she thought.

***

"So, what kind of stuff does he like? Do you, like, play dress-up for him a lot?"

Chastity Plattfield was happy to have a new friend. After months of depression, her life had taken a turn for the better after Javier had become her boyfriend. Now she even had a best friend with whom to share secrets and gossip.

"Not too much, really. I mean, I usually wear thongs and stuff for him, but he takes them off pretty quick," she responded.

Her cheeks were just slightly flushed—even after months of public sex as a "maid" at the Alpha Delta house, just talking about her underwear to another girl made her little embarrassed. Fortunately, her new friend could understand everything she had gone through. After all, Claire had been one of Simon's maids too. If anything, Claire had gone through the most shit of them all, since Simon used her girlfriend April's unwillingness to get dirty at the frat to extract more and more humiliating concessions from Claire.

Now April was Simon's girlfriend, which Chastity could tell confused and disheartened Claire. They used to talk about it when Simon and April first started dating, but now Chastity knew to avoid the topic.

"So what brought on the sudden urge to get all that stuff?," Claire asked.

Chastity looked around at the nearby tables to make sure no one was listening. The dining hall was a hive of activity, and no one seemed much interested in the girls.

"Things are...different now," she said with a note of concern. "He's always busy and..."

Chastity paused, searching for a delicate way of telling her friend what was happening.

"I...ummm...taste other girls on him. You know what I mean, right?"

Claire gave a knowing look, nodding her head and moving her hand to take hold of Chastity's.

"You knew he was working with Simon—I mean, you know what comes along with that, right?"

"Yeah," Chastity replied. "But I thought he would change. Like I would be enough."

Claire smiled weakly.

"So that's why we went to Sindee's. Makes sense."

Chastity had planned their little trip out, even bringing a larger, empty plastic bag to disguise the hot pink bag from the porno shop on the strip. Claire had gone along for moral support. As it turned out, Chastity needed it, because in Sindee's she had run into a girl she knew, Katie Greenwood. Fortunately Katie was just as shocked as the girls, as she was in the process of purchasing a rather large dildo when they entered the store. Chastity was sure that Katie had seen them getting gangbanged last Halloween. Thankfully, Katie had embarrassed herself even worse. In the porno shop, holding a dildo, she had asked Claire and her all about Simon's new girlfriend. It was a little pathetic, Chastity felt.

"I just want to try some new stuff. Make him interested again," Chastity said to Claire.

Hidden away in the recesses of her closet now was an assortment of sexy outfits purchased to make Javier go wild.

"If he doesn't want to fuck you, he's crazy," Claire reassured her.

Chastity blushed even more. Claire could be a bit forward, blunt even, but she had also proven to be a loyal friend. They met after the Halloween orgy experience and bonded. Chastity found it nice to be able to talk to someone about her life who she knew could understand and assumed that Claire felt the same. Once that first, extra-strength batch of F ran out, Simon turned the business over to Javier and a select group of brothers. The new batch was much weaker. At first the girls had all been disappointed, but the attenuated dose made it easier to kick the habit that had gotten them all in so much trouble. Now clean, their days as maids—whores—were at an end. They got over their cravings together and became inseparable.

Chastity looked into Claire's eyes. There was something about the feisty, diminutive brunette that stirred previously unknown feelings in Chastity. Other girls might have had bigger tits or longer legs, but Claire had a really striking face. Stupid boys just see her as cute, Chastity thought. I think she's beautiful.

"I wanted you to go there with me for another reason," she said, dropping her voice to get Claire's complete attention. "I know I'm not going to be enough alone. He's going to...have other girls. It's OK, like, I did know what it would be like from the start. But I think I can deal with it if he does it with me, you know? I mean, I'd be cool with it, I think."

Chastity paused. She had no idea how her friend would react to what she was about to say. Claire, despite her dirty mouth, had seemed almost celibate since she escaped from the Alpha Deltas.

"But first I want to try it out," she said seriously. "With you."

Claire seemed startled, causing Chastity to fear the worst.

"When?," she asked finally.

Claire's response made Chastity breathe a sigh of relief. That sounds like a yes to me.

"Well, how about tonight. At the store, I even got you a little something too. Come by my place in a few hours—say, 9:00. He'll be there by 9:30."

Chastity was a bundle of nerves for the next few hours. She cleaned her room—like he cares, she thought—and got everything ready for Claire and Javier's arrival. At 9:10, Chastity began to fear Claire was backing out. She felt relieved when her phone started playing a bouncy Katy Perry song—her ringtone for texts from Claire.

"guess who im w/," the text read.

"dunno"

"J"

Javier? Chastity thought Javier was busy working on Simon's latest little project.

"when r u coming?"

"dwnstrs now—just a min"

Chastity felt her pulse raise. This is really happening. Javier was never early to anything. Her curiosity piqued, Chastity unlocked the door and cracked it so that they could both walk right in. She heard their voices, unmistakeable, at the end of the hall. Only a moment...

"...so then he tells her she's going to make sure the vote comes up our way."

It was Javier's voice.

"If I know him, that'll mean that girl's got a lot of dick to suck in the next two weeks," Claire responded. "Hey girl!"

Javier and Claire entered the room chuckling.

"What? Fill me in," Chastity begged.

"Simon's got a plan to shake this bullshit investigation—more than that even. We got it worked out," Javier told her, before pulling her in close and squeezing her ass tightly.

"You remember the Chinese girl always over at AD?"

Vietnamese, Chastity thought. She nodded. Claire looked her up and down approvingly and spoke up.

"Simon's going to pay her to, like, convince the student investigations board to drop this hazing crap."

Chastity found it remarkable how Claire had identified herself with the group that had treated her like a personal fuck slave for months. Now, hooked up with softer drugs for almost free from time to time and spared of new indignities, she was a team player—totally on board with the frat and with Javier, too.

"Ya girl here says you got something to talk to me about. Lucky I'm free right now. What you need?"

Chastity worked up her nerve.

"Baby, we have something so great."

Javier looked a bit puzzled, especially to have a "relationship talk" with Claire present.

"But I...I'm afraid you might be getting bored with me."  "Nah, it ain't like that, " he assured her. "You good—I know you're just worried about other bitches out there."

"You don't have to—it's OK, I understand. You could have anyone."  Javier looked over his trembling, submissive girlfriend. No amount of filthy sex acts could ever make her look like anything other than the girl next door. Her blonde, angelic face was so beautiful, especially when her cherry lips were wrapped around his cock. Even with a face coated with his nut, she looked stunning. Her body, curvy in all the right places, knew just what he wanted. The way she moved, shy, teasing without knowing it—he would never grow bored of her.

"But I thought of an idea, something for both of us. Claire—it's time."

Claire moved over to Chastity's side. In unison, both girls stripped off their shirts.

"Shit!," Javier exclaimed.

"When you're with other girls, I...want to be a part of it."

Chastity and Claire wasted no time stripping fully.

"Now wait one second," Chastity said seductively, before deeply kissing Claire. "We've got something to show you."

Chastity draped her shirt over Javier's eyes.

"No peeking," she said with a coquettish giggle.

Chastity's heart raced as she prepared herself for Javier.

"OK, now."

When Javier opened his eyes, he saw a wet dream come to life. Both girls had slipped on little outfits—an exaggeration of a term, really, for the scraps of fabric they wore. Chastity wore a microscopic little tartan skirt with knee-high socks and an open, unbuttoned white school uniform shirt. Her full, gravity-defying tits caused his mouth to water. It was obvious that she wore no panties underneath the skirt.

Claire, on the other hand, went more for a slutty, hooker look. Seeing the cute, petite girl in four-inch stilettos, thigh-high fishnets, and a spiked dog collar made him see her in a new light. Now the giant hoop earrings she was wearing when he ran into her around the way made more sense. They were part of the whole ensemble.

"You can do anything you want to us," Chastity cooed. "We'll suck your dick."

The girls began to kiss, exploring each other with their hands. With the added height, Claire could lock lips with Chastity without craning her beck, and she took full advantage to probe the inside of Chastity's mouth with her tongue. After a passionate wet kiss, Claire broke their embrace.

"You'll probably want to see us taste each other for the first time."

Chastity smiled. She was glad that Claire had not only agreed to this, but was also getting into it.

"And I know you'll want to make us both cum on that monster cock of yours."

Claire stepped behind Chastity and reached both arms around her hips. Her fingers found Chastity's labia, which she spread apart for Javier.

"Look how pink she is. I can't wait to get my tongue in there."

Chastity was pleasantly surprised by Claire's interest in her. She could feel herself getting wet just from her touch. Claire's small but perky tits brushed against her back. Javier had seen enough by that point and wanted in on the action. He rose and approached Chastity, shedding his pants as quickly as he could manage.

"Plenty of time for you prick teases to rub cunts later. I want you both down here."

Javier pointed to his feet, and both girls unhesitatingly got down on their knees.

"Do that shit where you kiss, with my dick in the middle."

Chastity had watched enough porn with Javier to know exactly what he was talking about. Facing Claire on her knees, she pursed her lips. Claire did the same, and they pressed their lips against the side of Javier's engorged shaft. They quickly found a rhythm together, moving in tandem to stroke Javier's member with their mouths. Their tongues, fighting to find each other around the throbbing meat, coated Javier's cock in saliva. Chastity opened her eyes to look at Claire, whose eyes were closed. Barely audible moans, almost whimpers, escaped from Claire, and Chastity noticed for the first time that she was frantically fingering herself.




We Rule the School Ch. 04



Chastity saw Javier reach his hand into Claire's hair and gently push her lower, towards his hairy, pendulous balls. She took the hint and began bathing his balls with her darting little tongue. With her friend now occupied, Chastity shifted a bit to take Javier's cock into her mouth. Both girls were pressed in close together, each with one of Javier's massive hands guiding her head insistently forward. Chastity fought her gag reflex, hoping to take as much of him in as possible. Spurred on by her example, Claire took one of Javier's balls into her mouth, blowing air around it as she continued to massage his nutsack with her tongue.

"No touching yourself, girl," he ordered. "That's what friends are for."

Chastity had to pull Javier's cock out of her mouth for a moment to laugh. Why is she having to touch herself? That is what I'm for. Chastity reach down to find Claire's clit. She started to slowly circle her index and middle fingers along it. Claire had already made herself good and wet, and now Chastity could feel her body responding. Claire switched from the left to the right testicle, causing her to lean in even more towards Chastity. When Chastity inhaled Javier's cock completely, their faces rested against one another. Chastity felt the soft smoothness of Claire's skin against her own.

Her eyes were watering now from the exertion of taking Javier so deep into her throat. When she could take no more and had to withdraw his root from her windpipe, a thick, viscous saliva followed her, connecting her mouth to Javier's thick, reddened cock. The rope of spit connecting her mouth to Javier's cock bowed downwards, until it settled on the crown of Claire's head. Chastity felt a little bad about getting all that spit on Claire, before she remembered that both of them would end up looking like a soaking mess by the end of the night. She tensed a bit when she felt Claire's arm cross over her own and beginning gently rubbing Chastity's own swollen clit.

Chastity took Javier deep into her throat again, her throat muscles hugging his veiny member. She had worked up so much of that thick saliva that he could slide his cock in and out with ease, although only for as long as her oxygen held out.

"Switch," Javier ordered, and Chastity pulled the cock out of her mouth, expecting to take her turn with his balls.

Claire reached up to grab his cock and position it in her mouth when Javier pushed her hand away.

"Not that kind of switch. Around the back."

Chastity was afraid for a minute. Claire had been forced—were we really forced to do anything?—to rim the frat brothers a lot. She didn't enjoy the experience to say the least. Claire hesitated for a moment.

"Oh, I get it," he said. "Bend over the bed."

Claire paused for a moment before complying. She arched her back across the edge of the bed, exposing her pussy and ass to Javier.

"Them motherfuckers never cleaned their ass. I know you gonna like this, girl."

Javier flicked his tongue across Claire's puckered anus. She cooed with pleasure. Reaching deep into her pussy, he began to crook his finger, rubbing the upper walls of her cunt. After teasing the outside of her anal passage, he elicited a passionate moan when he entered her ass with his tongue. He tongue-fucked her for a minute or so, before he withdrew and turned to Chastity, who was staring in rapt, almost hypnotic attention.

"Here, baby, you try it."

Chastity was a bit nervous, but she knew that it had to be OK if Javier would do it himself. She leaned in closer to Claire's slender, but surprisingly round ass. For such a skinny girl, Claire had just the right amount of jiggle in her butt. Claire's hands, pulling her cheeks apart to expose her most tender, vulnerable hole to Javier and Chastity; her legs, trembling with sensation from Javier's expert ministrations; her long brown hair, tossing gently from side to side as she moved incessantly from the gathering storm within. Claire was there for the taking, and Chastity wanted to taste her so bad. She stuck out her tongue and moved in towards her target. The soft, wriggling tongue tickled the outside of Claire's anus before making its way, slowly but insistently into her inner recesses.

Chastity could feel Claire's heartbeat echo throughout her own body. Javier picked up speed with his finger, until Claire could take no more. Claire came, grinding her hips into the bed. Chastity pulled away from her friend and began running her hands across her ass. Her skin, now covered with little goosebumps, was smooth, flawless, unblemished. After a moment to catch her breath, Claire twisted at the waist, turning her shoulders to look around before flipping her body completely. Laying on her back now, she gazed upon the couple who had just introduced her to the pleasures of receiving a sensual and erotic anal tongue fuck.

"Holy crap," she said breathlessly. "I get it now."

Chastity held her friend's hand. She was starting to feel something more than friendship. She realized that she wanted this to be more than just a one-time, trial thing. She had real feelings for Claire, both emotional and passionately physical.

"Don't give up on me now, baby," she said to Claire. "We better get this monster off before we play more."

With that, Chastity took her place in front of Javier, again choking herself with his cock. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Claire moving around behind him, taking her place on the floor, where she would begin to lap at Javier's bunghole. Getting Claire off had stirred Javier even further, and it wasn't long until he clamped his hand down on the back of Chastity's head, pumping a prodigious load of cum straight into her gullet. He reached around to tap Claire on the back of the head. She backed away from his ass and craned around to see Chastity.

"You save any of that?," she asked.

"Why, did you want to share? He shot it straight into my throat."

Claire moved over to sit on the bed, patting the spot beside her. While Javier went to find a bottle of water, Chastity moved over to sit close beside Claire. They both still wore their little cosplay outfits, though their make-up was ruined. They both had to laugh a little at that—Claire's hair was matted with a copious amount of saliva from Chastity, while Chastity's mascara had run all over, a side effect of all the gagging and choking on Javier's meaty cock.

Claire grabbed a little cotton pad and started to wipe up the excess make-up, revealing the fresh-faced girl underneath. Chastity started to stroke her thighs, smiling up at her and looking at her own tiny reflection in Claire's eyes.

"That was incredible," Claire said. "I want you to feel that. I'll do it for you."

"Feeling you, when you were, you know," Chastity stammered shyly. "It was so amazing."

Claire smiled at her friend's strange sense of innocence, made all the more endearing by the fact that she had moved her hand to brush against Claire's pussy seemingly without thinking. She just had a subconscious need to please others, and Claire hoped that Chastity would give her some of that attention now. Missing the feeling of April's soft tongue and the orgasms it brought her, Claire hoped that Javier wouldn't mind her becoming much closer to Chastity. She saw him come back into the room and plop down in the desk chair facing the bed, his cock semi-hard, long and floppy against the inside of his thigh. She knew he would be far from spent, but in the interval, she wanted to make Chastity cum, make her feel the same, so that she would be able to have her again and again. Putting on a girl-on-girl fuckfest for Javier would smooth over any objections he might have to Claire sampling his girlfriend as well.

They would both get fucked tonight, that was certain. Depending upon how many times Javier could get it up, they might find themselves both stuffed in all three holes. Claire knew how Javier and the guys he associated with could treat a girl. Being with Chastity had mellowed him a ton. He seemed different without Simon's evil influence too. She had been afraid at first, when she balked at rimming him, but he had played it pretty cool, actually. She smiled at Chastity. Sweet Chastity. She's really too good for him.

She brushed the hair back from Chastity's face, before pulling her into a deep and passionate kiss. Javier watched avidly as she gently tweaked Chastity's nipples, making them stand at attention. Claire took the lead, kissing down Chastity's neck before lowering her to the bed and taking her left breast into her mouth and sucking greedily but softly on her nipple. Claire could sense intuitively the pleasure coursing through Chastity's body.

She spun the pliant girl over, startling Chastity with the motion. Now it's time to win him over, she told herself. She tugged at Chastity's hips until she got the idea and popped her ass into ther air, resting her head against a pillow at the head of the bed. Claire ran her tongue from the top of Chastity's ass crack all the way to her clit and thought the poor girl would die of ecstasy right then. She repeated the motion a handful of times before inserting her two fingers deep into Chastity's snatch. A couple of quick darts of her tongue, and Chastity's anus started to quiver and clench involuntarily with pleasure. Claire turned to look over at Javier, eyes glazed with lust.

"You got a plug? I want to stretch her good and well before you get that thing hard again and split her open."

Javier smiled. He could get used to this girl hanging around.

***

Katie spent the rest of her Saturday in preparation. A chance run-in with a couple of Simon's former maids had proven fortuitous—she had learned that Simon's girlfriend would be out of town until Monday. Sunday night was her night.

Her mind had wandered with punishments, but they always seemed to fall into two categories: way too mild and impossibly murderous. She wasn't going to cut his dick off or run him over with her car. Most of all, she wanted to humiliate him publicly and puncture his little sense of superiority. Emasculating him in front of his stupid fraternity would be perfect, and Katie imagined it to be poetic justice if she could do to him, in his own creepy dungeon basement, what he had done to her.

She had the money shot in her mind: Simon, bent over with a large dildo protruding from his ass. The brothers—hell, the whole campus—would love to see that. She would just show him, though, a bit of leverage and payback for her own tape. Now how to get there?

Unlike Simon, she had no drug connections. She didn't own a gun, and would be afraid to hold one anyway. He might kick a knife out of her hand, so that was out. Finally, she settled on a weapon beloved of frightened women: a stun gun, purchased from a police supply store conveniently located near Sindee's adult video and novelty store. There, she had found the right balance of comical and humiliating sex gear to really make her revenge scene perfect.

That night she watched the house where Simon and his perverted friends lived. It was Saturday, which meant a party that could last all night. Groups of people came in and out of the house, while she observed from the car. A girl she recognized—Anna, maybe? Or is it Hannah?—came out a bit disheveled around eleven. Katie slumped down a bit watching the girl as she approached the car on her way back to old campus from the AD house. Probably some innocent girl getting abused in there, she thought.

On a normal night, staying up till three in the morning would have been a tall order for Katie, but this night was different. She was wired from the adrenaline of it all. She had never let her self admit it—she wasn't ready to put it all behind her and move on. Though she had dreaded her conversation with Simon that morning, it had made everything clear to her: until Simon paid, until she had the power and he felt weak and used, she would never be satisfied.

By 3:45, all of the lights were out, including in the room she knew to be Simon's. Now for the hard part, she told herself. Creeping up to the door, she tried her card. The AD house used the keyless lock system that the rest of the campus used, only the brothers had the program to control who had entry to the house. When they were dating, Simon had granted her access, and she could only hope that he had neglected to remove it. When the touchpad turned green, she knew she could enter—in fact, there was nothing to stop her from executing her plan immediately. Her fear, though, was still too great. She needed to mentally prepare herself, to think of every contingency, in order to be ready for anything Simon might throw her way. She backed away from the door and returned home for a well-deserved night's sleep.

The next day, she woke up late from what had to have been a steamy dream. All through the day, she felt incredibly horny, in fact. After lunch, alone in her room, she allowed her mind to wander, fantasizing about sodomizing her hated abuser. She hated the way he smiled. She hated his piercing eyes and chiseled jaw. Hated his quiet but unmistakeable confidence. Hated every time he had made her cum. Hated him for not wanting her anymore.

Almost without thinking, she found her hand down her skirt, mindlessly rubbing the top of her clit. What the hell?, she thought. I deserve this. She was about to bring herself off when her phone rang. Damn! A half-hour of awkward, mood-killing conversation with her dad left her neither ready to start again nor completely over the need to cum. This will have to wait—maybe till afterwards.

All day she counted down the hours, until finally it was still, dark, and empty outside. She made her way, as she had done many times before, to the Alpha Delta house. Once inside, she knew that things could go wrong any moment. She had a cover story—the most obvious one she could find—that she was just there to pick up a sweater she had left behind.

Fortunately, Sunday was one day the brothers often did take off from partying. She got to Simon's room. This is it, she thought. I've got to make him know I'm serious. She approached Simon, fast asleep, and looked into his face. Sleeping, he looked almost peaceful, serene. That changed when Katie placed the piece of black electrical tape over his mouth and jabbed him once with the taser.

A pain, electric and white-hot, shot through Simon. He tried to scream, but the tape muffled it. In a state of momentary shock, he looked up to see his ex.

"Don't say a word. Walk down to the place where you...did what you did to me on Halloween. I will shock you again."

Simon seemed a bit disoriented, but quickly gathered his wits and did as she said. Once they were in one of his private rooms, Katie locked the door and issued her next instructions.

"Put your hands behind your back and don't move."

She cuffed him, and the metal bracelets dug into his skin.

"This was the place where you made me read my article, while you fucked me. Now, you're the one getting fucked."

Katie pulled off Simon's boxers, the only clothes he was wearing. She was afraid he would kick her, so she pressed the stun gun against his side, letting him know she could incapacitate him at a moment's notice. He didn't stir.

The room looked different than before. Is someone living down here?

"Bend over the bed over there."

Katie brandished her dildo, letting Simon guess what she had planned.

"Put your head down against the bed. Now!"

Simon complied immediately, calmly. Once the initial surprise of being woken by 50,000 volts had worn off, he seemed decidedly unimpressed by her revenge, even as he went along with her demands. In fact, his impassivity was disturbing Katie. This isn't how it was supposed to go, she thought. He should be crying and ashamed.

Suddenly she heard her own voice in her head. The adrenaline rush yesterday. The day-long horniness. The daydreams of Simon's abuse. She was getting off on the power of it all. She was just like him.

"Don't move, " she said, before ripping off the tape.

Though it looked painful, Simon followed her dictates. He neither moved nor spoke.

"Do you have anything to say to me?," she asked.

Simon, stripped naked, handcuffed, and bent over a bed awaiting imminent sodomy, nonchalantly replied.

"Hi, Katie. This is a surprise."

"The real surprise is when I show everyone the pictures," she replied, her voice trembling.

"Yeah, I don't see that happening."

"You don't believe I'll do it?"

"Not like this. I think you much prefer taking cock in the ass. This way around just doesn't seem right to me."

It was like he was egging her on, daring her to do it. Yet he seemed wholly unafraid. Everything was ready, for Simon's final humiliation. Katie, however, hesitated. This felt wrong. Could she really follow through with it? Moreover, Simon had yet to show even the slightest fear or shame. Of course, she remembered. Sociopaths don't feel those kinds of emotions. Oh shit...

"You...you don't care, do you? This isn't—oh, God."

For someone holding all the power right now, I don't feel in control, she thought. Get it together!

"Look, you can use your toy on me all you want. It won't change anything. I won't be tied up forever. And I could give a fuck what pictures you take. Deep down, you know I'm going to win this."

Katie fought the urge to start crying. She had gotten this far, had Simon in his most vulnerable state—and he was still winning.

"But, look, I understand your need for revenge. I'll even help you out."

With that, Simon moved from his prone position, standing up and walking over to the bed. I should be stopping him, she thought forlornly. Katie did not so much as move a muscle, offering him no resistance.

"Re-cuff me—to the bedposts this time."

Katie sensed a trap.

"You'll hit me or something. You'll get away."

"I don't want to get away," he replied.

Katie was distraught and in shock. Oddly, she believed him. He didn't seem to want to escape. Her body seemed to be moving of its own accord. Like a zombie, she shambled over to Simon's bedside, dangerously close to him. Still, part of her expected him to hit her when she undid the cuffs—she was an intruder, an attempted (and failed) rapist. But he remained as self-possessed as ever, and allowed her to cuff his hand above his head on the metal headboard rail.

"Good girl. OK, now's your chance. Hit me."

Katie was thrown into a minor panic. She had never thrown a punch in real life. Even a hard slap was out of her realm of experience.

"Don't you remember how it felt when I split your skinny ass open? When you whored yourself out to me? When I blew my load right—"

Katie felt like she had just woken up from a dream. Her hand stung, and Simon's left cheek was now red. I hit him, she thought. And it felt good.

"Is that all your ass was worth?"

Katie slapped Simon again, this time consciously. At that point, the floodgates were open, and she began pummeling him, raining down slaps and weak punches to his chest. Simon laid there and took it, occasionally using a pause to insult her some more: "whore," "cock sucker," "sperm bank." Without thinking, she hopped up on the bed, straddling him to better exert her will over him. That doubt and fear that had stopped her short just a moment ago was gone. She felt the thrill of control again and in the familiar place too.

Holy shit, she realized. I'm so horny right now.

Katie hopped off Simon momentarily to secure the tape over his mouth again. She didn't want to listen to that arrogant bastard when what was about to happen happened. She felt a strong desire to suddenly rip it off again, to do that over and over again until he finally showed her a response—pain, anger, fear, lust. Anything but this casual indifference.




We Rule the School Ch. 04



Once his mouth was safely taped, Katie took her place straddling him again, only this time lower down. Simon's semi-hard cock rested against her now increasingly damp snatch, with only a thin layer of cotton between them. He jostled her slightly, and her nail caught the side of his cheek, gouging into his flesh. A thin gash of red appeared on his cheek. She was momentarily shocked at her own violence, but was too far gone to care at that point about Simon's body. It was his mind that concerned her.

"You piece of shit!," she screeched. "You think you've won—"

Katie resumed slapping Simon, his face now crimson red and radiating heat. The scratch gave Simon's normally smooth, boyish features an air of alluring menace. Despite, or, for all she knew, because of the pain, his cock had grown fully erect and was beginning to rub against her clit through the panties.

What the hell?, she thought, slipping the soaked fabric off. If I'm going to do this, why not do it right? Now Simon's cock could really do its work. Katie ground her pussy into his cock—"dry-humping" an inappropriate word for a girl so thoroughly wet by that point. She wanted to make herself cum without ever letting him slip inside. She furiously rocked her hips into a steady vibration, hoping to reach satisfaction and deny it to Simon.

When she felt herself flagging a bit, she reached down and sharply twisted Simon's left nipple. Briefly she saw his face contort into a mask of pain, piercing the cool exterior he had maintained to that point. Although she had expected it to make her feel even better, she actually recoiled a bit from her action. He had stoically resisted reacting to the scratch on his face, but this pain had momentarily moved him. Seeing him actually feel pain reminded her of the wrongness of her actions. Unlike Simon, Katie had a conscience.

Suddenly, she knew she wanted something else. Control had proven a powerful aphrodisiac, but she wasn't going to be able to climax like this. Shifting her weight, she felt the tip of Simon's steely member rest against the entrance to her pussy.

Here goes nothing, she thought. The surge of sensation when Simon finally entered her triggered an orgasmic wave of bliss, a rush of physical and emotional stimulation that brought her over the edge. Her face contorted into an expression of pleasure and no small amount of pain. The suddenness of her orgasm only demonstrated the potency of her arousal. Simon, mute and bound, spoke with his eyes, but Katie knew exactly what he meant by the arched eyebrow.

You're still mine.

Though her body cried out for her to stay impaled on Simon's shaft, to ride it to orgasm after orgasm, her mind rebelled. With the fog of lust, hatred, and anticipation dissipated, she stood face to face with the truth of the situation.

No pictures. No leverage. No hope. And a remorseless sociopath who owed her for her little attempt at revenge.

She pulled herself off of Simon's dick and began looking around in a panic, as if a trap door would suddenly appear to take her away. Is that...footsteps?

Someone was descending into the sub-basement, into Simon's lair. Fortunately, the door was locked. Katie began to frantically collect her belongings when the lock clicked and the door swung open.

"What the fuck is going on here?"

Katie pivoted towards the door. Glowering with rage in the doorframe was Simon's girlfriend April. The two girls locked eyes, as April started slowly approaching. Katie could not have looked more incriminating: in her right hand a clearly visible stun gun and in her left hand her panties and a rather large dildo. As April came closer, Katie dropped them all into her small black duffel bag.

"This isn't what it looks like," she protested.

"Oh really? 'Cause it looks like you just fucked my boyfriend."

OK, maybe it is what it looks like, Katie thought. She was tempted to grab her stun gun back and knock April out. If it was strong enough, maybe she'd forget all about what she just saw. April had an inch or two and probably fifteen pounds on Katie. Not that Katie knew how to fight anyway.

"Listen, you don't know what he did to me!"

April paused. Katie suddenly remembered that April knew very well what Simon had done: she had watched video evidence of it even. Yet April wasn't mad at Simon; she was staring daggers at her. Without a word, April slid past Katie to Simon's bedside, where she gingerly removed the tape from Simon's mouth. Katie considered bolting for the door, but froze to the spot. She feared that running would only make Simon angrier and stoke his desire for revenge.

"Thanks, April," he said laconically. "If you didn't get here in time, she might have tried to fuck me again."

There he is, Katie thought. Dripping with sarcasm and condescension like always.

"Where are the keys, bitch?," April asked in a huff.

"In the—"

Simon interrupted her.

"Don't bother. At least not yet. I need to prove something first."

Katie had no idea what would come next. She braced herself for the worst.

"April, I'm going to need you to listen to me and do what I say."

April nodded meekly, her rage channeled into submission to Simon's will. Katie could see, behind her acquiescence to Simon's wishes, a wounded sense of anger and jealousy.

"Katie, you are going to do what I say, too. I don't think I even need to bother threatening you, but let me know if I do. I've been waiting for this day to come for a while. I guess it makes sense after we met again. But you came to fuck someone with that thing, right? I'd hate to disappoint you, so go get it."

Katie stood motionless. The silence made her tense. Both April and Simon were waiting for her next move. She could feel goosebumps forming on the backs of her arms and her cheeks flush. Finally, after a virtual eternity, she shuffled over to the table where her bag was left and withdrew the silicone phallus.

"Bring it over here... Good. Now, Katie—start taking April's clothes off."

Both girls looked startled at Simon.

"Now."

He didn't need to yell, or implore, or threaten. He simply said what would happen, and it happened. With fumbling fingers, Katie started unbuttoning April's semi-shear black silken blouse. April had on the kind of ornately embroidered, sexy silk bra that Katie knew drove guys crazy. Katie was, of course, in a much more plain white cotton set—she didn't need much support with her small tits. April didn't move a muscle, forcing Katie to move in closely and reach around her with both arms to unfasten the clasp on the back of her bra.

When April's liberated tits sprung into view, Katie immediately wondered how she had ever satisfied Simon when he could have a girl as sexually alluring and compliant as April. Oh right, she recalled, I didn't. It was just to fuck with me. Katie felt a cocktail of emotions: fear, inadequacy, shame, and lust. She wasn't in to girls, but...

"Get up here and bend over me, April."

April complied without a question, climbing onto the bed with her knees by Simon's side and her hands stretched out to the other end of the bed. Arched over his naked body, her tits swung lewdly from the jostling motion. Her long brown hair hung down, lightly grazing Simon's torso, though a bit still rested on her bare back.

Katie didn't wait for further instructions. Simon hadn't told her to half-undress his girlfriend. She slid the tight red skirt down April's impossibly shapely legs. Naturally, April's lacy hiphugger panties matched. She wondered if Simon had bought them for her. They were the next to come off. Katie waited for her next instruction. She sure as hell wasn't going to do anything without Simon's orders. If something happened to either of him, it would be his fault.

"Now it's up to you, girlie. Pussy or ass?"

"What?," Katie asked, dumbstruck.

"Fuck her pussy or fuck her ass. The question I ask myself everyday. Tonight, it's your choice, and don't ask her. She doesn't like that."

Katie hesitated. Regardless of whether or not she willingly followed Simon's orders, April didn't deserve this. She was innocent.

"But she's your girlfriend," she protested.

"Not right now," Simon answered with a wry smile. "At the moment I think she's about to be your girlfriend."

Katie pressed the head of the dildo to April's pussy lips. This might hurt her, she realized. Katie had completely forgot about lube, so she worked up some spit and drenched the head of the silicone monster about to plow April's cunt.

"You're really getting the hang of this," Simon said appreciatively.

Her guilt assuaged, Katie inserted the saliva-smeared tip of the rubber cock into April, who let out an audible gasp. Katie took things slowly, allowing April to adjust to the intruder spreading her open. As she slowly worked the dildo in and out, she watched transfixed as each outstroke brought it back more and more covered with April's juices. Humiliating or not, she was having an effect.

April's breathing became heavy. Katie watched fascinated as her ass jiggled with each thrust. Secure in knowing she wasn't hurting the poor girl, Katie started to piston in and out of April's cunt with increasing speed. April responded, moaning and whimpering. All the while, Simon sat like stone, staring down Katie and smirking when he began to feel April's natural lubricant drip down onto his crotch and stomach from above.

"April, I want you to tell Katie about our favorite movie."

"Simon, no, please," she begged, her body growing even more flush.

"Don't make me ask again."

Katie's sexual hypnosis was broken. She remembered Simon was in the room. She stopped fucking April's pussy for a moment to listen to the girl.

"Oh, I don't think you want to stop. Tell her."

April took a deep breath as Katie started to again slowly move the dildo in and out of her slit.

"We watch the video of you..."

April turned her head to look at Simon. Katie sensed she was trying to hold things back.

"of Simon fucking your ass. I didn't want to at first, but now we watch it a lot."

Katie subconsciously started thrusting the fake dick harder into April as she spoke.

"Simon likes me to suck his dick when we watch it. And we fuck—not anal, though."

April paused and finally let it out.

"I...like to talk back to the screen. I call you names. I make fun of you for having no tits. I laugh at it when you read your dumb article."

Katie's ferocity was building again. She went off on April's pussy, pushing the girl over the edge.

"I....joke about how the old guys turned you into a cum rag," April said, managing to get the words out right before her mind went blank and she cried out, not Katie's name but Simon's. April's cum coated Simon's cock and balls from above, and for a moment it almost seemed like she would lose the ability to hold herself up and collapse on him.

What came next startled even Katie.

"You think that's funny, whore? This is funny."

The voice that came out barely seemed like it was hers. Katie, without warning, pushed the slick dildo against April's tight anal ring. Despite a valiant effort, it gave way, allowing Katie to bury the thing in just a few strokes well into April's rectum. Katie gave April's perfect, round ass cheek a hard slap.

"I left him when I found out he was a fucking psycho. You fucking knew—and you're still here sucking his dick, watching him fuck anyone he wants. You're fucking pathetic."

Both April and Katie started sobbing, though only April's tears were the product of physical pain. Katie kept up a furious pace, pounding away at April's unprepared asshole. Wincing, April let loose her last, best barb.

"You left him? He left you, bitch."

Katie collapsed into a heap on the floor, thoroughly spent. She once thought that what was done to her—what she had let happen to her—was the most degrading and humiliating thing she would ever experience. It didn't compare, though, to what Simon had made her do. No, that's not right, she thought. He didn't make me do this. This was inside me all along.

From the floor, Katie looked at April, immobile with a dildo buried in her ass. She's not even moving or trying to take that thing out. She fucking loves him. Katie closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

When she opened them, Simon was standing in front of her, his stiff cock at full attention. He slipped the cuffs—I fucked that up, too?, Katie wondered. Then it dawned on her. He could have gotten away any time he wanted. He knew what would happen the whole time. Behind him, April chucked the filthy dildo on the floor and sat up on the bed, observing her man. She looked positively bloodthirsty.

"Well haven't we learned a lot tonight. Katie, do you have anything to say to April?"  "I'm...I'm so sorry," Katie said tearfully.

"Can't we finally drop all the bullshit and the lies. Why can't you normal people stop pretending I'm the only one who feels like this? Tell the fucking truth."

Katie decided that, at least in this regard, Simon was right.

"I...I think you're a stupid slut, and... you're beneath Simon. He keeps you around because you'll go along with whatever sick shit he wants, but he doesn't really care about you."

Simon turned to his girlfriend. She knew what he wanted.

"I think you're a stuck-up bitch." she said to Katie. "You think you're smart just because no guy ever wanted you. The only reason Simon ever had anything to do with you is because he wanted to show those old guys how even a man-hating dyke like you would bend over and take it up the ass whenever he wanted. And it worked, bitch."

Simon let both girls sit there for a moment in silence, turning over the accusations they had made and received.

"Now we have a problem. Katie, I can't say tonight wasn't fun, but I don't think you want this little feud to escalate now, do you?"

Katie simply shook her head. She knew that in a battle determined by who was willing to take things the farthest, she stood no chance against Simon.

"So as I see it, there are three solutions that work for me. I'll let you choose."

Katie tried to focus on Simon's eyes, but, on her knees on the floor, her hands covered in another girl's pussy juices, and a hard cock maybe a foot from her face, she found it hard to focus.

"First, you can run away. Quit school, leave town. If you go far enough, fast enough, I probably will get tired of looking for you and just let you go. You might want to change your name, though."

Katie looked dejected. Her look of defeat only made Simon's cock grow harder.

"Second choice: You might like this one. Truce. I don't see you, you don't see me. Most of the time, that is. But you grant me three wishes—anything I ask, but absolutely no sex. In that respect, you're free and clear of me."

Simon walked forward, and Katie couldn't back up from her position. He draped his dick across her cheek, leaving a barely visible trail of pre-cum against it.

"You take door number two and that's the last time you'll ever touch my dick. Finally, there's choice three. Stay with me, 'cause this might sound crazy. Choice three is: right now, on the spot, you suck my dick. Expect it to go down your throat. You will gag. You'll probably tear up. Forecast says a 90% chance of a mouthful of cum. Then you'll make it up to April by getting that cute little tongue of yours as far into her ass as possible. Once you make us both cum, we'll see about getting you fucked again. It might be her turn."  April smiled when he mentioned the possibility that she might have a go at Katie.

"And—here's the best part—you'll keep doing it whenever we want. You'll cum, we'll cum, you'll clean eat it up with your mouth, we'll make you our skinny little sex doll. It'll be perfect."

Katie resumed crying, while April beamed with pride in her man. Katie looked imploringly at Simon, mutely begging his forgiveness. Suddenly April's smile dropped a bit. She had just done the math.

"I'm still, you know, your girlfriend, right baby?," April asked timidly.

Without turning to face her, Simon responded in a mock reassuring tone.

"Of course, sweetie. You can still be one."

April's look of victory was gone. Katie's head was swimming. I can go—run away or not. She feared the unknown, of course. What would Simon demand of her if she accepted his truce? Her body knew what her brain did not: this wasn't over. Someone like Simon doesn't come into your life and then just evaporate. Despite all her beliefs and even her sense of self, her body showed her the way.

Without a word, Katie took Simon's cock as far into her throat as her gag reflex would allow. There was to be no way out. Simon didn't move. He didn't need to grab her head, to force her to take his cock. He simply stood there and let her choke herself. After all, she knew a half-assed blowjob wouldn't satisfy him. He told her she would gag, and so would it happen.

She thought she was doing a bad job. She thought she was weak for worrying about that. She felt worthless because she was so weak. She wanted to be punished because she was so worthless. She sputtered and retched on his cock because she wanted it to punish her. Her pathetic inability to take his cock any deeper made her think she was doing a bad job.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

The feeling of warm, sticky cum filling her mouth finally freed her of her cycle of self-doubt. I did it right. I made him cum.

Simon patted her on the head, and for a brief moment she felt relieved.

"I knew you would make the right choice. You've been conflicted for so long. But right now, you're exactly where you belong. April is just a little smarter than you, so she figured it out earlier."

Simon's comments cut deeply, stinging her in her one source of pride.

"You were very helpful to me last year, and I'm going to help you. I won't even have to hurt you, because you're going to do what I say, and I'm only going to tell you to do things that you should do anyway."

She was still afraid, but in spite of herself, she felt oddly safer now. The uncertainty was gone.

"After all, you've got a mouth made for sucking cock. I'm going to enjoy it. You've got a pussy that's just dying for a tongue like April's. I'm going to enjoy that, too. And you've got an ass that fits just right around my cock. If you're really good, I'll keep you all to myself. And if you're not, then we'll see who else's cock fits right in that ass, too."

Simon meant it—she knew that more than anything else in her life. She resolved then and there to always be good and never give Simon cause to hurt her or share her with his disgusting little minions.

"Believe it or not, I'm dying to get back to sleep. Katie, just let April take out her frustrations on you a little bit. You might even like it. Then both of you kiss and make up. Come to bed upstairs. I'll expect you both to wake me as usual. April knows what I mean."

Once Simon was out of the room, Katie turned her downcast eyes towards April.

"Please don't hurt me. I'm so sorry."

April's face was inscrutable. No longer anger, or jealousy, or fear. Not lust. Katie had an uncanny sensation. It's like I'm looking into a distorted mirror, like she's me but not me. We're in the same boat, together.

"I'm only going to make your ass hurt as bad as mine does right now," April said, without a trace of emotion. "Then we'll get started tomorrow morning. Simon wakes up with a blowjob—no questions."

As April worked the filthy dildo into Katie's anal passage, Katie started to question if she made the right decision. With the fake cock firmly wedged into her rectum she realized the truth.

It's too late to stop this now.