Ivy League at Any Cost Pt. 05

Vicki pounded her second shot of rum and tried not to gag. She wasn't good at this.

Kim instantly refilled the glass. Her serious façade was long gone.

"No more," Vicki said. Her stomach was roiling.

She was next door with the other three red collar girls. It was nice to spend some regular time with Kim and Haley. The bloom of alcohol was already helping cut the edge off the awkward butt plug fiasco from that afternoon.

"You aren't nearly caught up yet," Haley said.

"And not just alcohol either," Janette said and winked.

Haley and Kim blushed. Janette had a glow about her that was more than just the alcohol. Vicki saw a similar glow in the other two girls as well.

"How was it?" Vicki asked. She forced herself to say something, but was afraid to be treading on sensitive territory.

"Nice," Kim said. Haley nodded.

Janette plopped down on the futon next to Vicki.

"Nice?" Janette said sarcastically, "You came you damn brains out. How many times?"

"More than one," Kim said.

"Come on you know how many," Janette prodded.

Kim looked away for another second, her dark eyes looking at the floor. Slowly a smile started to grow. "Three times," Kim said. She was beaming.

Janette smiled back, then turned to Vicki. Janette said it with her eyes and her smile. Sex can be fun and stupid and wonderful and even transactional and still be OK. It's not all cruelty and humiliation. Sometimes it's just sex and that is enough.

"Didn't know she had it in her," Haley said.

"There's a lot of things I didn't know... she could have in her," Janette said, stumbling through her line. "Err, I kinda fucked that up didn't I?"

"Yeah, take another drink Big Pussy," Haley said.

"You told her?" Vicki asked. She hadn't processed the events from earlier that afternoon, how Janette had tried to take the butt plug for her, used her special status as the anal queen to intervene. For all the good it had done.

Vicki had signed up for this lifestyle voluntarily, but Liz was something else.

"About my Mafia name? She was at the contest, although I'm not so sure she remembers anything. Right Haley?" Janette said.

"Oh I remember," Haley said. The contest, where they had tied her down and gang banged her. At this moment, she didn't seem to mind.

"You need one too Vicki," Kim said.

"A gangbang?" Vicki asked.

The girls froze, all eyes on Vicki, as if even acknowledging what had happened to Haley would victimize her again.

Haley started to laugh, and the rest of the girls followed.

"Jesus Christ Vicki. A mafia name," Janette said.

"Take a drink for that," Haley said.

So she did.

--

The next day, Vicki was hungover, but things were better. Although unintentional, the hazing had a positive effect. She was in a real sisterhood. These girls were all in deep shit, but they were in it together.

"Drink some water," Janette said.

"That bad huh?" Vicki asked.

"You kinda suck at this," Janette said.

Janette looked as bright and clean as she ever did, maybe even better with her needs recently satisfied.

"How'd you drink twice as much as me, but yet..." Vicki trailed off. Janette's carefree beauty spoke for itself.

"Because I'm from Minnesota," she said, as if that explained everything.

"And?" Vicki asked.

"And I drank much more than twice as much," Janette said.

She never really got a satisfying explanation. So Minnesota girls can drink. "Today I learned," she thought.

--

"Sorry about the study group," Vicki said. Frank was hunched over the lab bench, trying to form a replica chiral molecule out of toothpicks and clay.

He was careful to put the model down and look in her eyes.

"No problem," he said.

It was the goddamn eye contact that got her every time, how he'd stop his world to see her completely, like his big multi-tasking brain stopped just for her.

"You know. Rush. It's pretty wild. Inconvenient on purpose," she said.

He diverted his eyes at the mention of rush. Frank was here on scholarship, his clothes never quite as crisp as the boys that called on the sorority. There was an invisible friction from class difference on the campus that was hard to escape. Vicki felt it at times but tried not to dwell on it.

"It'll calm down in a couple weeks," she said.

He seemed focused on the molecule. So very unlike him.

Vicki studied his face. It was angular, lean. He was tall, on the edge of filling out but still had that boyish lankiness. He'd make a good front man in a punk band if he were just a little bit cynical. She wondered how he'd look in eye shadow. Probably hot, she decided.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked. His eyes shot back up to hers.

She nodded.

"Why rush at all?"

Was it innocent small talk? It felt accusatory, maybe even political, like a Christian asking why she didn't go to church. Like why was she going to the trouble of eternal damnation when the alternative was so obvious?

She tried to look into his eyes but landed on his lips. "Fuck it," she thought. The Truth, or at least as close as she could get.

"I know you think sororities are a four year beauty pageant--" she began.

"I didn't say that," Frank interrupted.

She couldn't tell him the full truth. Not only was it a capital "S" secret, it was ugly. "The Truth," she mused to herself.

Vicki had sold herself into sex slavery out of spite. It hadn't been easy so far, being led around on a leash, her mouth used to warm cock, watching her friends get fucked. But it was only part of the torment. That voice in the back of her head whispered that she didn't deserve to be here. For all the good she had done, all the homeless she had fed and the straight A's, she wasn't as good as Frank. He had a fucking scholarship. They were paying him to be here, while she had to fuck strangers just to squeak in the back door.

The Truth was she hated herself, and at night the only thing crowding out her failure was the rampaging lust in her body. She saw the Truth and it was scary, the air suddenly so thin she could barely breathe.

"Fuck that," she thought. She white knuckled the lab bench and tried to steady herself as a wave of revulsion swept over her, so angry she was nauseous. That voice in her head, her voice, was pathetic. PATHETIC.

"The Truth," she said. Her words were forced. Cold. "It's a competition. Everything is a competition. School. Jobs. Life. It didn't begin when we got here and it won't stop when we leave. That sorority is Carnegie Hall, and I'm NOT supposed to be there. I'm not rich and I'm not white. I didn't practice, and I may not deserve to be there, but I'm there anyway. I'm in. I got a toe in that world, and I'm not leaving. You think I'm too smart or too sweet or too open minded to swim with those sharks, that they'll eat me alive and all that. But I'm not dying. They can fucking choke."

And those big eyes stared into her. She saw the slightest tremble as he turned away.

He was afraid of her.

Good. He should be.

--

Hours later, the house was having a lingerie party. It wasn't open to the public, but the guest list was large. Outside of her group of four, Vicki barely knew the other girls. She didn't know the boys at all. The lights were low and the music was high, the bass so loud Vicki could feel it in her chest.

The boys seemed extremely comfortable in their boxer shorts, almost universally tanned and muscled. It was a mix of upper and lower classmen. She assumed they were from the frat houses. The word "lacrosse" kept repeating in her brain. She couldn't decide if she preferred their muscled thighs or their visible abs. They seemed to alternate wildly between ogling the girls and being too cool to notice.

Vicki tried to lean toward classy in her underwear choice. Her bra was a dark lace that pushed her breasts up, highlighting her ample cleavage while tastefully covering much of her breasts. The matching bottoms covered a fair portion of her ass. Even so, she had been careful to shave thoroughly.

Vicki caught Janette wandering by, all eyes following her roommate as she walked. Janette's lingerie was largely sheer, not bothering to shape or even cover up her body. It didn't matter that you could see her small nipples. Her long legs and sharp ass were her best features. A boy stared her body up and down, and shouted something into Janette's ear that was lost in the music. Janette gave a wicked half smile and kept walking.

Vicki shouldered her way between two guys, careful not to spill her red solo cups full of beer, embarrassed and flustered at the way an elbow grazed her breasts, pushing through towards Janette. She imagined eyes on her ass as she walked, a mix of trepidation and excitement.

The bass was so loud it seemed to crowd out her own thoughts. Even when she found Janette it was almost impossible to talk. She handed her roommate a beer, and slid her body alongside Janette to get access to her ear.

"Where is McKayla?" Vicki asked.

"What?" Janette shouted back. She pointed at her ear and shrugged.

It was hopeless.

Vicki drank her beer and looked out at the crowd, surrounded by people but alone-- a room of sexy guys and girls, getting drunker, bodies moving closer in real time, her sisters testing out their newfound college freedom. Vicki could pick out the other specials in the room, her real sisters in all of this. They were wearing skimpier clothing, but all of them were somewhat aloof, guarding themselves against an unknown future, sex objects not able to indulge their own desires, waiting around to be used.

--

Bill was wearing a tank top and boxers. Vicki was a few beers in, with a thin sheen of sweat. He shouted something at her, but the words were lost in the music. Vicki shrugged her shoulders and pointed at her ear.

He leaned in, his hand on her shoulder and his chest pressed against her. His beard stubble was rough on her cheek as he shouted "Come!" He pulled away and looked into her eyes. They were green. She never noticed that before. His eyes were asking a question, "did she hear him?"

Vicki nodded. He held out his hand. She took it. It was calloused and strong.

Bill lead her through the crowd to a bedroom. Vicki tried to orient herself in the haze. He was Liz's lackey, a stunt cock. He'd already whipped her ass viciously. He'd fucked Janette.

And Janette had liked it.

Vicki figured there was a good chance he was going to fuck her, that Liz had ordered it. She was supposed to hate him. She thought about the paddle on her ass, how she'd struggled to fight through the pain, but it didn't make her want to fuck him less. Vicki thought about how thick his cock was, about how much it would hurt when he shoved it in her. She wanted it to hurt.

He opened the bedroom door. The lights were low, a corner lamp illuminating a small room with a bed and a desk.

And Liz.

"Fuck," she thought. She stepped through. Whatever hazy lust she had felt at the end of Bill's hand evaporated instantly. Bill shut the door behind them.

Liz wore an empty smile. She wasn't dressed in lingerie but her outfit was arguably sexier for it. She had on a short skirt. To say it hit her upper thigh would have been generous. She had a cut-off white t-shirt that hugged her breasts. It somehow managed to cover none of her perfect abs, while also showcasing her nipples. While technically a shirt, it somehow revealed more than Vicki's bra. Liz was like a fantasy mishmash of sexy tennis player and your highschool crush. Vicki was sure it was intentional.

"What do you want?" Vicki asked.

Liz made a show to look behind her. "You want to try again?" she said.

Vicki said nothing. Looked around the room. There was a picture on the end table of Liz and her family. A politician's smile and thick hair (Dad) next to a petite trophy wife (Mom). She'd been too hazy to realize where Bill had dragged her. Liz's room. The dragon's den. There was a framed Bob Dylan t-shirt on the wall. Vintage. Vicki fucking hated that they liked the same music.

"Did you drag me down her for rush?" Vicki asked.

"Well, yeah," Liz said.

Vicki sighed. She was suddenly aware of how naked she felt, how cold the room was, how cold Liz's tone was. A moment ago she was lusting for Bill but not now. She took another deep breath and waited.

"You're behind," Liz said. "After your performance the other day."

Vicki said nothing. There had been no performance. Liz had the stupid ass judgment to try to sodomize her in front of McKayla's boyfriend. What the fuck did she think was going to happen? Some part of her knew it was Liz's job to break her in, but she was tired of the games.

"Something you want to say?" Liz asked.

Vicki stayed silent. Liz nodded at Bill.

Those same strong hands ripped Vicki's panties down to her mid thigh. She jumped, startled at the intrusion. Vicki had come to the bedroom with the express purpose of fucking Bill, but everything was different now. She felt exposed, powerless. Vicki set her jaw and suppressed a tremble.

Liz approached her. There was nowhere to go in the tiny room.

"I know you like it rough. You like to be scared," she said. Liz ran her smooth hand down Vicki's stomach, to the soft folds of her pussy. The fingers danced along the outside of her. "I don't need you to admit it. You don't have to say it. I've felt it."

The pressure on Vicki increased, fingers circling her most sensitive areas until Liz pressed two fingers inside of her.

As much as she hated Liz, the fingers felt wonderful. And for once she was OK with an audience. She wanted the audience. Vicki wanted to say she was wet for Bill, that it wasn't about humiliation it was about lust. She wanted to believe she needed his cock more than she hated Liz.

Vicki stood there, unable to stop the trembling, as Liz ran her fingers in and out, caressing her insides, pulling her closer with each stroke, until she stumbled forward.

Liz leaned in, until her breath was on Vicki's face. Lips brushed lips. She felt the humidity of a near kiss. Liz pulled her closer from the inside, pleasure mixing with pain. Vicki closed her eyes, focusing on the pain.

Vicki felt the whisper of a kiss behind her ear, the brushing of lips. She trembled around those fingers.

"It's not that I find you attractive," Liz whispered. "I don't. I think you are ugly. A fat whore." The words should have hurt, but they were drenched in honey. The fingers inside her were more aggressive, pulling her apart, gripping her. "Hurts?"

Vicki didn't bother to deny it. She nodded her head, as the fingers pressed too hard for comfort.

"I don't do this because I hate you either," she said. Liz paused, choosing her words. "You're weak. You aren't going to make it, and every day you're here you waste everyone's time. The biggest favor I can do is to make you quit."

Vicki opened her eyes. Liz stared into them. So close she could feel her breath, her whole world, inside and out.

"Fuck. You," Vicki said between clenched teeth.

Then the world changed. Liz pulled her fingers out and turned away, wiping her fingers on a towel.

Vicki felt hollow and cold, turned on and empty at the same time. Her panties were still on her thighs. She felt Bill behind her even if he was no longer touching her.

"Ok then," Liz said. "So here is the deal slut. I know you can't fuck for shit. It's obvious, but fortunate for you getting fucked is easy," Liz turned back to face her. It was almost a performance. "These billionaires like their prey to be virginal and naive. It's part of the college girl fantasy, but if I let you out of rush without a proper fuck, it'd be negligent. So Bill is going to fuck you."

Vicki nodded. This had been what she wanted. Her fantasy. Not just tonight, many, many nights. But in the moment, everything felt clinical and cold. She tried to recapture the lust she had felt minutes before. The strong hands and sparkling eyes. Tried and failed. Fuck. Fucking Liz.

Liz reached behind her back, unhooking her impossibly short skirt. It fell to her feet instantly. Liz was naked under the skirt. Toned legs into a tasteful pussy. Pale outer lips, with just a hint of darker inner lips. Like a fucking Barbie doll brought to life. She slid back onto the bed and spread her legs.

"Come here," Liz commanded.

Vicki waddled forward towards the bed. She heard Bill unzip his pants behind her.

"What are you, what are we--" Vicki didn't know what to say. It was obvious but also impossible.

"You may be thinking. Why would I need to eat pussy? Will some beautiful woman buy me for the night?" Liz said. "No. There are no rich, beautiful women buying twenty year old whores. There are only rich men. I promise you that every date will end with a stranger's come in you or on you. But some of them get off on watching a wife or a girlfriend get eaten out by their property. Bend over."

As Vicki leaned down, Liz ran her delicate hands behind Vicki's ears, into her hair, pulling her forward for a kiss. Vicki fell awkwardly forward off balance, unprepared for the aggressive kiss. Liz forced her lips open, flicking Vicki's tongue. She didn't fight it so much as was startled by it. Before she could react, the contact was broken.

"The next time we kiss, you'll taste like my pussy," she said. She lowered Vicki's face down to the bed, between her legs.

Liz leaned back on her hands, shifting her hips up to give Vicki a better angle, but she didn't lay down all the way. Liz stroked Vicki's hair while she descended. Vicki put her elbows on the bed for support as she leaned in.

"You're mine," Liz said. "Say it."

Whatever this game was, there was no use fighting it. "I'm yours," Vicki said, even tried to mean it.

"Good girl," Liz purred.

Vicki bent over the bed, lowering her face down to Liz. She was acutely aware of how naked and vulnerable she was. Her whole body was open as she extended lower.

"Because you are such a good girl, I'll let you pick," Liz said.

"What?" Vicki asked.

"Pussy or ass?"

Vicki froze. Was she getting fucked in the ass or was she supposed to eat Liz's ass? Jesus Christ. She wasn't sure which one was worse.

"P-Pussy," she said. Her heart was pounding.

"You heard her," Liz said.

Vicki felt the head of Bill's cock stroking the outside of her pussy. Was it really this big? It felt big.

Liz scooted further back onto the bed, allowing enough space for Vicki to eat her out while Bill fucked her from behind.

This was it. Vicki lowered her face down to Liz's picture perfect pussy, acutely aware how Bill could see every bit of her backside, her pussy, even her asshole.

"Here are the rules," Liz said. "The fucking doesn't stop until I come. You got it?"

Vicki nodded. Liz stared at her for a beat.

"And don't you fucking come before I do."

Vicki nodded again. "Got it," she said.

Liz stared at her again through tight eyes. Vicki saw a rage she couldn't understand, that was certainly not justified. Liz wrenched back on her hair.

"You fuck this up and there will be consequences," Liz said.

It was a lot to process. She felt Bill's cock nudging into her, and she suddenly needed it. More than before. More than those lonely nights hiding from Janette. It was way too big for her body and that made it the perfect size.

Vicki leaned her face into Liz's pussy, running her lips around the outside of her, using her face to caress it. Behind her, Bill was finding his angle. Vicki put out her tongue, tasting Liz's pussy for the first time, ran it along the outside folds and dipping into the center. Beyond the sweat from an evening spent dancing, it was fine. Musky maybe in a way Vicki couldn't define.

Vicki ran her tongue along the boundary of Liz's lips, trying to imagine what she would like. The head of Bill's cock pressed into her. She closed her eyes, leaning her face into Liz, nose and lips bracing into her tormentor's pussy while she focused on the cock sliding into her. Jesus she was wet.