Ivy League at Any Cost Pt. 07

"How bad is it?" Vicki asked Haley. Vicki had done her best to put a defiant spin on her public blowjob, but she already had an inkling of how it was playing out.

"Not great," Haley said.

Vicki watched her friend search for words. "Just spit it out," she said.

"There are rumors about you," Haley said. "The whole blowjob thing, and some of it is bad. They call you Vicki 'Long Time' as in like, 'me love you long time.'"

That one hurt. Not because she felt any attachment to that racist trope, but because she was sharing a sorority with that level of stupid, with people who would boil her down to a stereotype from some old movie. She was wrapped up in an institution of sisterhood, enduring shared suffering that was meant to drive them together. Now at the first sign of trouble, she was an Other, just because she looked a little different.

"I'm so sorry Vicki. They don't know you like we do. Don't know what we have to do," Haley said.

"That all?" Vicki couldn't take the steel out of her voice. Haley didn't deserve her anger. Vicki had asked Haley for the rumors as a favor.

"And that you fucked Steve, and that's why McKayla broke up with him," Haley said.

"What?"

--

Vicki had been avoiding her roommate since the blowjob. Discussions mostly boiled down to one word answers. Janette didn't seem to understand it, but she got the hint.

The blowjob had been no picnic. Vicki had been manipulated into getting face fucked in front of the whole sorority. Liz even made it look like it was Vicki's idea.

She tried not to reflect on what had happened, the gagging, the cum that got everywhere, even into her sinuses so that days later she thought she could still taste it, running through the house naked, her breasts and ass jiggling for all to see.

It wasn't that she wish it on Janette, but... It just wasn't fair. If Janette had been the one up there, it would have been no big deal. "Of course Janette chose the cock," the other girls would giggle. "Oh Janette, you're such a slut. Maybe you can show me how you do that."

Now she was Vicki "Long Time," the one who thought she could challenge Liz, could handle the cock. Boy was she wrong. Ran out crying, covered in cum.

And why hadn't Janette helped her out? Just a few weeks ago, her roommate had volunteered to strip naked and be led around on her hands and knees with a butt plug lodged in her ass.

Only one thing had changed. Janette had made a real pass at her. Not a hypothetical sharing of sexual exploration. Janette had put something on the table, taken a risk.

And Vicki had turned her down.

Vicki was pissed about quite a few things-- the humiliation, the racism, the snickering and side eye from the other girls, but her friendship with Janette might have been the worst. Whatever she'd thought existed wasn't real, at least not real in the way she thought.

Vicki was deep in her thoughts, changing out of a white top she'd spilled marinara on. She wore a basic bra, utilitarian.

"What's going on?," Janette asked. Vicki had been so lost in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed her roommate come in.

Vicki felt an urge to cover up but fought it.

"Marinara," Vicki nodded at her top.

"Not that. Vicki, something's wrong. You can tell me. You'll feel better," Janette prodded again. "I know the others--"

"Fuck them," Vicki erupted.

Janette just stared at her with those endearing eyes, a look of concern on her face, giving Vicki space to talk.

"I had to do it," Vicki said. "Liz--"

"I know. Now," Janette said. "Haley told me."

There was a note of pain her voice. Vicki had shared the circumstances of the enema with Haley before she sent her out hunting for rumors. She hadn't confided in Janette.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Janette asked.

"I tried. I-- Why didn't you help me?"

"You mean get on my knees in front of everyone I ever met and their plus one and suck Bill's cock?"

Vicki barely had the energy to whisper, "It's what I did."

"Vicki, I'm so sorry that happened. I get why you're mad. I'm mad too," Janette paused. "But why are you mad at me?"

"You didn't help me," Vicki said. "You would have done it before. You had a chance to walk away before, and you didn't. But not now, not this time."

"I didn't know," Janette said back.

"Or didn't care?" Vicki asked. She found her voice trembling, more emotional creeping through than she had anticipated.

Janette's face morphed from quiet concern to anger. Outrage.

"I thought you were worried about me," Janette said. "That's why I didn't suck Bill off. I thought you were sweet, worried I couldn't take the paddle, thought you asked me to do that because you cared about me. I... I saw how much it hurt you last time. I didn't realize you only worried about yourself. So thanks for that I guess."

Janette stormed out, if a hundred and ten pound model could storm out.

"Goddammit," Vick hissed. She wasn't even sure why Janette had come back to their room in the first place.

Their final trial was coming right up, and Vicki was running out of friends.

--

Vicki's head hurt even before she fully woke up. Her throat was raw from cigarette smoke. She tasted stale sugar and something else. Cum?

She groaned. Her stomach fluttered. If she hadn't puked she would soon. It had been a few days since her fight with Janette, and as far as Vicki could put together, it was the day after their final test. The "black-out fantasy."

Liz had explained it to the red collars, said there was something symbolic in their loss of consent, knowing that they were going to get fucked raw while letting go of all control. In practice, the red collars were going to get stinking drunk and let the usual collection of stunt cocks have their way with them, before and after they were too drunk to say no.

It was obviously disgusting and scary. Part of Vicki wondered if it was a setup to take compromising pictures of them, insurance in case things went wrong. What more could Liz do that she hadn't already done while they were sober?

The red collars had promised each other they would lie and cheat to avoid getting too drunk, but the pain in her body and the blanks in her memory indicated that she had fucked up the plan.

Past the pain in her head, there was a familiar throb in her pussy and an awareness of sticky cum between her legs. And her ass ached. Fuck.

Liz had been almost gleeful when explaining about the dangers of anal sex. Liz had stripped them all naked and shoved butt plugs up their asses for "their protection," explaining that anal sex when the participants were black out drunk and inexperienced was actually dangerous. Vicki hadn't been particularly grateful at the time, her asshole stretched around stainless steel.

She reached down to her ass and found... nothing. Her finger grazed her lubed up asshole and not the stainless steel base. The plug was gone. Vicki looked at her fingers. At least there wasn't blood.

Even if she couldn't remember exactly what had happened, she knew. Someone had fucked her ass. Her first time. Not with a loved one as a show of ultimate intimacy. Not with a stranger per se but completely forgotten, lost in a drunken haze.

Vicki tried to roll out of bed but stumbled to the floor, naked knees on thin carpet. She'd never felt so rotten in her life. Nothing in the room felt familiar. Vicki spotted a small office trashcan under a desk. She crawled over to it and vomited. The acid taste filled her sinuses.

She felt some small amount of relief, so small it was practically immeasurable. What was infinity minus one? Still infinity. That was her hangover level. Vicki pulled it together just enough to look around.

She was buck naked in a bedroom, with not even the faintest idea of where she was or how she got there. Morning light streaked across the room.

She heard a groan from the bed above her, a man's voice. Fuck.

Vicki wanted to crawl away, find a hole and die. Despite her extreme discomfort she felt unlikely to die. Vicki stood up on shaky legs and inspected the bed.

A naked man. He groaned again and rolled over toward her.

It was Steve. McKayla's Steve. The "stay away from him" Steve, the beyond the firewall Steve. Not a forbidden fruit. THE forbidden fruit.

The rules were explicit and adamant. Fucking a rando outside of the Program was enough to get her kicked out of school.

What level was this offense? McKayla wasn't exactly her friend, but she had at least been neutral during the initiation. What would happen now? Ritual punishment?

Vicki's sister had fucked up along these lines, had even warned her about it. Months later, Vicki still could remember her sister's words, how her voice was cold and haunted. Whatever happened had been bad, and Vicki doubted her sister had fucked the pledge captain's boyfriend.

Vicki puked again, not even making it all into the trashcan.

Steve stirred but didn't wake.

How did she get here? Would he remember? Maybe he was too drunk. Maybe she wasn't absolutely fucked yet.

Vicki tried to recall the night before, and there was so much, overwhelming flashes of sex and drinking and kissing and Janette and vast, empty stretches of nothing, certainly no Steve.

She had to get out of here.

Vicki looked around for her clothes. She found her pants, but no panties. Then her shirt. It was slick with a sheen of cool vomit. Vicki barely succeeded in holding back a round of dry heaving.

She briefly considered wearing the shirt. Dark on dark-- it was possible not to notice the throw up. But the smell. Jesus. She threw it in the trashcan with the rest of her vomit.

Vicki opened Steve's closet and pulled out the smallest looking dress shirt she could find. She slipped it over her head without needing to unbutton it. Where was her bra?

She tried to recall. Vicki hadn't worn one to the previous night's event. Hadn't brought a purse either. Had she gone directly from one to the other? Vicki scanned the room over and didn't find anything but her shoes.

She put them on and slipped out of Steve's house, not bothering to find her socks or panties.

--

Vicki wished it were dawn or pre-dawn even. It was after 9:00 am on Friday. Steve's house was only slightly off campus, and there was a steady trickle of students she passed on her way back to the sorority house. She prayed no one recognized her.

Vicki knew how she looked, freshman girl fucked so hard she could barely walk home. Even this embarrassment wasn't enough to cut through the power of her hangover.

"One foot in front of the other," she told herself.

--

The house was blissfully quiet as Vicki sneaked back into her room. Janette was asleep. Hair was wild but she otherwise looked OK.

Vicki crept through their bedroom and into the bathroom. Nothing felt right. Even a hot shower felt terrible. She did her very best to put herself back together, slipping into her softest jammies before leaving the bathroom.

"You look like shit," Janette said from her bed. Her voice was gravelly and strained.

"I feel worse," Vicki said. She crawled in to bed, desperate for sleep, needing the day to end, forcing her eyes closed while her head continued to pound.

She heard Janette stirring, getting ready for the day, for class. It was the craziest thing Vicki could imagine.

She had a flash of the night before, the warm mischief in Janette's eyes just before they kissed. It was awkward and tentative and wonderful and wrong. Drunk on drunk, pre-orgy kissing, an impression of the other red collars looking, the boys cheering.

Vicki couldn't remember how it started or even how it ended, but she remembered a whole lot of the in-between. Kissing Janette's thin neck, blond hair in her face, the smell of citrus. Janette's soft hands dancing down her back. Vicki pulling away and glancing at shiny white teeth biting on full lips. Janette leaning in, dragging her soft lips across Vicki's closed mouth. She didn't pull away this time.

Another memory. Sometime later. Hazier, drunker. Soft lips on Vicki's thighs. Blue eyes looking up from between her legs.

"You going to make it?" Janette interrupted her.

Vicki struggled to reconcile the memory of the two of them through the incomplete swirl of memory and emotion.

"What happened last night?" Vicki asked. She was almost talking to herself.

Vicki opened her eyes. Janette was halfway changed. Topless, pulling a pair of blue jeans up her legs. She had bags under her eyes.

Janette gave her a tough look, a tired look. "We got fucked," she said. Janette was talking about the boys. Vicki had flashes of cocks in her face, pressure in her pussy, rough hands on her breasts, moaning and-- she cut it off, focused on Janette.

"No, did we have sex-- did you and I have sex?" Vicki asked.

"That's what you're worried about?" Janette asked. Vicki could hear the hurt in her roommate's voice. She didn't say it, but she didn't have to. For all they were going through, boundaries violated, public humiliation, emotional pain, physical pain, why was Vicki so hung up on rejecting the only person who seemed to care about her?

"What happened?" Vicki asked. More of the night came flooding over her. Kim and Haley getting fucked. Cum on Vicki's face, on her hair. Was it still there when she walked home? Oh Jesus.

But in all of her fragmented memories, there was no Steve. How did she end up at his house?

"I don't remember," Janette said. She stared at Vicki for an uncomfortably long time. "I'm glad I don't."

Vicki needed to ask about Steve. What if no one, not even Janette, knew what she had done? What if she got away with it?

"No. We, we..." Vicki said. She found herself on the edge of tears. "We weren't going to get drunk. You weren't supposed to-- you can handle your alcohol. We were going to look out for each other."

"I guess I couldn't," Janette said. "Not this time."

Vicki flash backed to Steve's bedroom. Vomit and cum. Sore.

"I need to know what happened," Vicki said.

--

Vicki couldn't truly sleep, but she couldn't get out of bed either-- other than to drink water and vomit. At some point her phone rang.

"Where are you?" James asked.

"I can't make it," Vicki croaked. "I'm sick."

There was a long pause. Vicki almost lost track of time, maybe she had hung up. Maybe James had.

"Are you OK?" James asked.

It took eons for her brain to process. "I'll be ok," she said.

More long pause.

"I heard what happened," he said.

Vicki's heart stopped. He knew. How could he know? She started shaking.

"Hazing is illegal," he said. "You could... we could report it. To the police. Or at least the school."

Vicki was too afraid to ask but had to push forward anyway.

"James, what are you talking about?"

Another long pause.

"I heard there was a thing they made you do-- you... you had to give a guy a blowjob," he said. The words were awkward and halting. She could almost feel his embarrassment through the phone.

Vicki put it together quick. James was Linda's tutor. Rush was confidential. Was she just bad at keeping secrets or had she leaked this on purpose? Was Vicki a threat to her?

"I'm fine. There's a lot of rumors going around right now. That's all. Sorority life can be tough. You know how it is. We don't beat each other like the boys. We just spread rumors about each other's sex lives."

"Ok, but--"

Vicki hung up the phone. It sounded plausible. She liked James in a way she hadn't quite yet defined, and maybe he liked her back. She'd been so caught up in the difficulties of rush and her commitment to celibacy outside of the Program that she'd not entertained those feelings in earnest. She wasn't about to start now.

Fucking Linda.

--

Vicki spent the afternoon napping and trying off and on to remember what had happened, how she ended up at Steve's. She didn't remember that specific detail, but she remembered a lot more of everything else.

She remembered laying on a bed naked, her fingers in Kim's mouth. Kim had her legs in the air, getting pounded by Bill's cock. Vicki watching everything, running fingers across her naked pussy that was in full view of the others. She remembered the lust in Kim's eyes, heavy breathing that would sometimes crescendo into moans, the violent rocking of the bed, Kim's small breasts rippling back and forth, and the feeling as Kim sucked on her fingers, like she needed something in her mouth to get off.

Kim was so hot. Maybe a little too thin in every day life, but Bill put her legs on his shoulders and practically rolled her into a ball while he dug his cock into her. Folded up like that, she had just the right amount of everything. Tight ass, abs, breasts, wild brown hair getting on everything. She could make a fortune doing porn, but chose this instead.

Vicki rarely masturbated and never with an audience. Not with her boyfriend, not with Janette, but those past reservations hadn't stopped her from running fingers between her lips next to Kim while her friend was getting fucked. She only stopped when one of the other boys grabbed her legs and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

His cock went in easy. Vicki was wet and drunk. It was big enough to feel good. Not so big that it hurt. She remembered making eye contact with Kim as they bounced together on the bed, getting fucked side by side, held down by strong hands and hard cocks.

Looking back, Vicki wasn't sure how to feel about getting fucked in front of her friends, but her body was less conflicted. She felt the now familiar ache of lust. A part of her liked this, and not just the sex. It was the rough sex that she focused on, the stuff that felt gross and terrible, public and embarrassing, that made her feel used, but also just incredibly horny. She didn't know how to process that, what to think of herself.

Vicki put those thoughts on hold as she reached under her panties and attended her needs. Turning her thoughts back to the orgy, getting fucked faster and harder until he was pulling out, shooting load after load across her belly and on to her breasts. Vicki focused on that part, so that the memory of his coming timed together with her fingers on her clit, moaning in ecstasy in her bed, by herself on a Saturday afternoon.

In her memory the guy pulled out, then Liz was there. Feeding them both more shots, telling Vicki not to bother cleaning up. There was much more to come.

--

Sunday evening. Vicki couldn't help but pass McKayla's open door on the way to dinner. Couldn't avoid her as they made eye contact in the hallway. So McKayla was back. Not good.

"McKayla, hey," Vicki said.

"Sit down," McKayla said, she gestured Vicki inside her room.

She sat down, sitting on the edge of McKayla's bed.

"There is a rumor going around. About Steve. And you," McKayla said.

It had been two days and Vicki still hadn't figured out what had happened with Steve. No one had brought it up directly. Until now.

Vicki wanted to run. She stuck her hands in her pockets to stop from visibly trembling. McKayla didn't know, couldn't have known. If she knew, it would be different. The rumor was out there even before she had-- Vicki pulled her thoughts away back to McKayla.

"It isn't true," Vicki said.

They stared at each other for a moment.

"I know," McKayla said.

"Oh thank god," Vicki said. "When I heard it, I was so worried you'd--"

"Shut up," McKayla said. She took a deep breath. "There's a reason for the rumor. I saw how he looked at you. He said things to me. About you."

"What?"

"I broke up with him. Not because I'm jealous. But because..." She trailed off. McKayla was fighting through something. Not quite tears. "Because he's a bad person," She seemed to making her mind up all over again.

"I think it was Liz. She was the one that made me get naked--" Vicki started.

"I know it was fucking Liz," McKayla hissed.