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.