I made a mistake. There are eighteen girls in Sigma Lambda Upsilon Tau. Four of us are freshman. There are
at
least four Sigma Lambda Upsilon Tau parties every month. That means, I'm the sacrificial SLUT at least once a month.
At least tonight, I'm not alone. It's the Sigma Lambda Upsilon Tau Halloween party. Tonight the sorority is sacrificing four girls, one freshman, one sophomore, one junior and one senior. It's me, Amanda, Megan and Cindy. Apparently Amanda is my sponsor—she controlled my vibrator at the last party. Megan is Amanda's sponsor and I suppose that means Lara is Megan's. We're four classes of Sigma Lambda Upsilon Tau girls being humiliated together.
Except Cindy doesn't look humiliated. She's got some kind of six inch vibrating plug in her butt
and
a rabbit. I don't think she's come yet. She must be used to this.
I'm NOT!
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. I don't know how Cindy stands it. The egg lodged in me pulses to the beat of the music. My
whole body
pulses to the beat of the music. My clit sparks. My nipples ache. I yank at the fuzzy cuffs binding me to the bar above my head making it rattle on the stand. The other tributes look at me and I think I see pity on Megan's face.
Humiliation blisters me from toes to nose. I try to close my legs. I can't. My right ankle is bound to the stand. My left ankle is shackled to Amanda's right. Our spacing is such that all four of us have to stand with our feet more than a yard apart. When I pull on the blonde next to me, she pulls back. We're right in the middle of the room. Any person can just walk up and touch us. There's rules. Party goers are not supposed to hurt us. They can't mark our skin. They can't leave bruises. They can't put their fingers in us without permission. We can't stop them. Our only defense is our unbound sisters who aren't entirely reliable. It's too much.
I come.
I squeak.
I come.
I hiccup.
I tears leak from my eyes. I drench my panties. I can't stop coming.
There's a sharp whap. Sting erupts in my butt. I jolt. I hiccup. I'm still on edge, but I don't titter over. I gasp for air. I try not to hyperventilate. I shift and rock my core trying to escape the vibrating beat in my box. I can't. Beside me Amanda is hanging from her cuffs shaking and sweating in place. Like the cheerleader skirt some frat douchecanoe removed without my permission, the skirt of her super skimpy boarding school costume is on the floor still hooked to one ankle, because,
of course
, they didn't fully free us when they pulled our skirts down. Beside her, Wonder Woman Megan falls off the cliff. Even French maid Cindy's eyes look desperate and glassy. My humiliating display hadn't just been too much for me it'd been too much for all of us.
Someone behind me lays a hand just above my knee. His skin is rough. It's callused. It's broken. Unicorn sparkles pop and fizzle over my flesh as he trails his hand up the inside of my thigh. The girl lube that's leaked from my panties is like ew-gross but there's like zero I can do about it. The man-boy bumps right up to my back. His hand slides up to my juncture. He fingers my opening through the drenched material of my panties and palms my right butt cheek.
"So good to see you again, Kenzie," Collin's tenor purrs in my ear. His lips are so close I feel the warm wash of his breath across my cheek.
I jerk and rattle at my bindings. I try to dislodge his hand from my center but of course I can't. It's the second time my crush has come to a Sigma Lambda Upsilon Tau party this year. It's the second time I've been the sacrificial slut. Does he plan it or do I just have stupendously unlikely bad luck? He's so close I can smell that woodsy fir and cedar sent that clings to him. The man smell under that does something to me and there's like this screw that tightens in my launch button. His finger feathers me. A desperate sound escapes my lips. I'm not going to orgasm. I'm going to go insane!
"
Col
," I squeak.
"Do you need help, Kenzie?"
Help orgasming? No. Help humiliating myself? No, again. I'm doing both of those things just fine on my own,
thank you very much
. Help getting me out of my cuffs? Yes. Help getting that vibrating devil ball out of me? Please, please,
oh God
, please! Removing your hand from my not so private, private place? Yes? No?
Ohmigod
, I don't know! I don't like it there—but I do.
Collin reaches around me as spreads a hand over my bare belly. I'm wearing a sorta-sporty balconette and a super crop top sweatshirt—so I'm bare from the top of my thong to the bottom of my boobs. Sexy cheerleader, right? That's what I was going for when I put my Halloween costume together. I did not know I was tonight's sacrifice—again! Collin uses my middle to pull me back into his chest. It's solid. And warm. And musclely. I like that. I kinda melt.
He nuzzles my neck. My head falls left. He kisses the tender juncture between the column of my throat and my collar bone. I don't kinda melt. I melt. I'm like girl splatter.
I feel his muscles tense but there's no strain as he take the weight I can no longer support. He nips me and sucks. I jerk at my bonds once more. He slides a thick finger up and down my seam. Every time he reaches my apex, I spark and jolt. Every time he presses against my entrance, I leak. My nips twist up so tight I don't know how they don't poke holes in my bra.
He kisses up the shell of my throat. Nips and licks the flesh along my jaw. His hand slides up my belly, pushes off my left cup and tugs a nipple.
I thrash in my bonds. "Collin," I squeak. I don't believe boobgasms are real, but I might be wrong. I'm close. He pinches and twists. It feels good. It hurts. He was supposed to ask before he did that. I think. But my sisters don't seem to care. I'm not capable of saying, "no," to anything he wants at the moment. If he asked to put his thumb in my butt, I'd say, "yes," right now. I'm a virgin there. Like totally. Nothing as has ever gone
in
my
out
exit, but Collin can do anything he wants to me. Like kiss me. I want Collin to kiss me.
"Ki—ss" I stutter when he lips the little gold hoops in my ears. He tugs the peak of my boob at the same time and a jolt runs from my nip to my clit. Flash fire heat races up my spine to detonate in the most primitive part of my lady brain. I simultaneously try to sink into and escape the sensations. That's when I realize I'm feeling something I've never felt before. The pad of his thumb, it must be his thumb, is pushing my wet-wipe panties in a slow circle around my
out exit.
That shouldn't feel good. Oh God, how does that feel so good? "
Me!
" I finally gasp.
Collin has to lean over my shoulder. I have to lean back. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and...bites. I squirm, putting more pressure on my tail.
Oh fricking fuck
.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I like it. Pleasure blooms against my tail. I like it too fricking much. I forget every last thing I've ever known about what makes a good kiss and maul Collin's mouth. We tangle tongues. We share air. I can't get enough. It's the kiss I've dreamed about for the past four years. He didn't even kiss me at the party last month when he made me come my brains out. Everything downstairs goes haywire. Everything upstairs short circuits. Best. Kiss. Ever.
Collin breaks the kiss. I try to chase him, but I'm shackled and cuffed. I struggle to reach him.
Collin chuckles and Oh. My. God. The reverb. It does things to me. Good things. Wicked things. Really hot, tingly, I'm going to come my brains out again things.
"May I?" he asks. He's tugging the wedgie string on my thong. I don't know if he's asking to bare me downstairs or if I want a finger in my butt. I'd rather he did both in my bedroom. Or neither. Anywhere. But the whole point of me being bound and displayed in the middle of the living-room of my sorority is for me to humiliate myself for the viewing pleasure of our party-goers. I'm the entertainment. I'm the boy magnet. I'm the live porn.
I've done the
dumbest
things since the start of the school year. Yay, college!
"Okay." My voice is breathy with fear and...
desire?
I'm not sure I can be heard over all ninety-five decibels of MKTO on the stereo so I nod. I'm going to be mortified. That's a given. I might as well be humiliated while macking on the boy whose name I helplessly cry when my vibrator gets me off.