Page 42 of Frat Row

Gradually, I open my eyes to bright lights shining over me, and my hands and ankles are bound on a table.

My eyes spring open. I am in a hospital room.

Did someone save me? Am I out of the house of horrors? Did I dream up the entire thing? Tears begin forming in my eyes.

That hope is abruptly snuffed out as the doctor who checked me in days ago walks in the door. I gasp.

I look down at my body. I am naked with just a white sheet over me. I see the wires connected to some type of machine that is checking my heart rate and other vitals, I am assuming with the multiple wires.

Then, I notice the IV.

Fuck, what is happening?

The doctor ends the silence and the crazy possible scenarios that are running through my mind.

“You lost quite a bit of blood from the flogging, so we had to conduct a blood transfusion.”

“How long have I been here?” I croak out, my throat dry.

“About twelve hours. Don’t worry, you won’t miss today’s training.” He grins savagely.

I can barely move my head; it hurts everywhere.

“I have bandaged up the cuts along your backside and put some antibiotic ointment on them to reduce the risk of infection, and I also have given you liquids through the IV,” he continues.

“About another hour of liquids, and you can join the rest of the women for day four of your training,” he says happily like I’m on my way to Disney fucking World.

I lay there motionless, not knowing what to do or say. He checks the monitors, squeezes the IV bag, and then leaves without another word.

I have to try to get out of here. I look at the cuffs and try to reach them with my mouth, but they are secured tightly with buckles.

Heaving myself painfully over to my right hand, I use my teeth to bite at the cuff, pulling it as hard as I can, even with the searing pain on my back. My teeth tingle as they cling to it.

To my utter surprise, it loosens.

My heartbeat starts beating erratically. The machine begins beeping frantically, and I stop what I am doing, but no one comes running in. Holy shit.

I quickly begin biting at it again, and it loosens enough so that I can slip my hand out.

I roll over and get to work on freeing my other wrist, working my fingers through the buckle, perspiration forming on my head and my hands.

It loosens, and I slide my hand out. I sit up and groan in pain, rubbing my wrists.

I get to work on my left ankle and free it, then my right ankle, and the cuffs fall to the floor.

Gritting my teeth, I rip the IV out, and blood starts trickling down my arm. I run to the sink and drawers, throwing open the cabinets to find the medical tape. I tape up my arm at lightning speed, understanding my time is limited.

I duck down and move toward the door. There is a small square window at the top, and I don’t want anyone to see me, already hoping that no one heard me.

I sigh, remembering there is a lock on every single one of these doors, and I don’t know the code.

Holding my breath, I try the handle. To my surprise, the handle moves down. My stomach is in my throat as the realization hits me—I could escape. This could actually happen, and I could get out of here.

Slowly opening the heavy door, I peek my head up and down the hall.

Empty.

I creep out of the room and turn right.

Walking turns into full-blown running, looking for an exit like a madwoman; I take turns left and right, weaving toward any door or staircase that could lead me out of this place, looking up for any kind of signs with arrows or words.

I see a guard up ahead, and I skid to a stop, rushing behind a divot in the wall and urging it to swallow me up. I cover my mouth to stifle my heavy breathing and wait a few moments before peeking my head out.

The hallway is clear, and I take off again, some of it looking familiar. I see a door about a hundred yards away, and it looks different compared to the other doors.

Trusting my gut, I sprint toward it, trying to stay on the balls of my feet to prevent noise.

As my hand touches the handle and I feel the coolness of the metal, a force knocks into my side, and my feet lift off the ground as I fly through the air, landing hard on the other side of my body on the tiled floor.

Rolling over, groaning in despair and agony, I hear footsteps approach me.

I open my eyes, and Rio is crouching down, smiling at me.

“I thought it would be fun to watch you try to escape, princess; it was very entertaining,” he taunts.

He grabs my chin, forcing me to look directly at him. “All that hope squashed and shoved right back down.”

Anger washes over me, and without thinking, I say, “You’re a piece of shit,” and I spit in his face.

Still smiling, he sluggishly wipes off his face. “I cannot wait for training today; we are going to have so much fun together. He moves to grab my arm, and I push my body in the opposite direction, sliding on the floor and trying to get away.

He chuckles. “I love it when you fight me; I get bored so easily these days.”

He snatches a handful of my hair close to my scalp and starts dragging me through the halls.

I desperately claw at his hands to try to get him to release my hair to stop the throbbing pain.

He is unbelievably strong, and with such little food provided to us, I feel weaker than ever. However, I don’t give up; my stubbornness won't let me show any kind of weakness to him.

We reach a steel door where he types in a code and walks us through; I am still thrashing as he throws me to the floor roughly.

I get my bearings and look around at where he has brought me.

This room is bigger than the others, huge.

There are multiple beds set up, with four tall metal poles in the corners, and two women sit propped up on each bed.

One woman lies on the bed, hooked up to a metal spreader bar, with her legs stretched as far as they can go, and her ankles are in cuffs with links attached to the poles.

Her hands are stretched back above her head into handcuffs attached to the upper poles.

A guard is stationed at each bed, standing beside it.

There is another bed with a woman hooked up to the spreader bar, without a guard, and I swear my stomach completely bottoms out, knowing what is coming. My feet automatically move in that direction.

Will scoffs at me, narrowing his gaze with an annoyed expression. “You’re late.”

Feeling depleted, I don’t even have a snarky comeback for him.

All my hopes of escaping this place have gone down the drain. To be so close to freedom and then have it taken away in the blink of an eye is depressing as hell.

My body aches, but not as much as my mind and my heart.

This place reaches inside you and pulls out your soul in the darkest and most depraved way, holding it prisoner. I will forever be part of these walls, alongside the other women.

Slowly, it has chipped away at me little by little until, finally, there is nothing left. I feel hollow.

I look up and notice Rio taking the position as the guard beside the woman attached to the spreader bar and me.

There is nothing left this place can claim from me. It has taken my body in every conceivable way, my mind, and now my will.

“Today is your fourth day of training. Your masters will expect you to be able to eat pussy as well as you can suck cock. You will be expected to actively take part in threesomes and orgies regularly, as I know your masters all have, how shall I say it, compulsive sexual behaviors.” Will chuckles and continues, “You will also be expected to satisfy another partner while being fucked by another person or two at the same time.” Will pauses for a dramatic effect and keeps going, “The slave on the spreader will be eaten out first, and then you will switch.” He looks around. “Begin.”

We are all already naked. Even the guards shredded their clothes before Will finished speaking. Rio begins stroking himself.

I have experimented with and kissed girls as a teenager, but never further than that. They want me to make her come? What if I can’t?

I move slowly onto the bed and get in between her legs, which are spread as wide as they can go. She looks me in the eyes and nods, telling me with her body language to go ahead, offering me consent even though we don’t have a choice in the matter.

I am on my knees as I bend forward, taking in the scene. I can see every part of her pussy. I send a quick prayer of thanks that I have spent a lot of close-up time with my own, getting to know my body thoroughly and what turns me on.

I am just going to do to her what I typically like and see if it works. I graze my fingers over her center, lightly touching and rubbing. I see her clit, and I put it in between my fingers and rub it while gently pulling it. She lets out a whimper.

I take my thumb and move it side to side over her clit, and I get another reaction from her; she twitches and lets out a slight groan.

Continuing to move my thumb back and forth over her clit, I take my other hand and easily slide one finger inside her, working it back and forth.

Then, I slide two fingers in, moving them faster. She arches her back, enjoying the pleasure.

I feel myself getting wet between my thighs while watching her. This is turning me on.

I decide to remove my thumb from her clit and press my face closer, sticking out my tongue, and I begin moving it up and down her clit while still sliding my two fingers in and out of her. My ass is in the air as I lap up her juices.

She is moaning loudly now. “Don’t stop,” she pants. “I am almost there.”

I feel movement behind me, but I pay no attention, too focused on wanting her to unravel before me. My legs are kicked apart, and a hand shoves my shoulders down, pushing my breasts into the mattress, and my face is completely in this woman’s legs.

I don’t stop pleasuring her. I replace my fingers with my tongue and fuck her with it, and my fingers go back to working her clit.