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I creep into Olivia’s closet, waiting for her to return to her dorm room. I need to see her. To get my turn.
Refusing to invite me to break her in public is wrong on so many levels. She’s my slut too.
A sadistic smirk tugs at my lips as I flick off her closet light. I picture myself ramming my fist down Olivia’s throat and telling her to choke on it. I want to carve my name on her stomach. Paint her pussy in the blood of my rage.
My fingers cinch around one of her tops, and I clutch it to my nose. Growling, I unzip myself, then rut my dick in one of her blouses. Pre-cum gushes out of my tip, and it excites me in the most twisted way to know that Olivia won’t even realize my seed is on her dress the next time that she wears it.
My phone buzzes.
Brock:Olivia needs to learn how to own her sexual power. That’s why we’re so hard on her.
Rook:She was also clearly in need. That’s why we didn’t have time to invite you.
Me:I know.
Olivia is the type of girl who we need to break down in order to build up. She’s not confident in who she is, which ticks me off on a level that’s difficult to fathom. Girls with half her worth parade around Saintswood daily acting like they’re the shit with their Birkin bags and designer shoes when really, their fathers buy them everything. They’ve never worked a day in their lives which is pathetic. They couldn’t manage a panty stand.
Our auburn-haired angel doesn’t flaunt Hermès or don manicured nails that are so long they look like they’ll slit her pussy open when she fingers her clit. She’s virginal, pure, and oblivious to the ways of the world. The whores at Saintswood haven’t spoiled her yet.Every man wants a woman he can build into a Queen. One that he can mold, shape, teach how to be his girl. Not some bitch an inferior man has taught the wrong things.
I can’t help but think of Cady inMean Girlswho was so classy when she first arrived from Africa. One month around Regina and her bitches and Cady was as nasty as they came. She was bitchy, toxic, and wore too much makeup that she didn’t need. She turned into a cunt who didn’t hesitate before stabbing her besties in the back. That’s why us three Sinners need to take control of Olivia.Protect her from the whore mafia.
I clench my dick, images of Olivia swirling through my mind. She’ll come back to her dorm room any moment, and I’ll spy on her from the closet. She’ll have no idea I’m standing here. My dick buried in her blouse. Waiting for her to go to bed so I can finish what Brock and Rook started in the quad.
"I’m dead." Rina enters their room first, then slumps down on their shared sofa.
"You and me both."
"I really need to drop calc." Rina kicks off her shoes. "And the rest of my classes this semester. This college shit is harder than I thought."
"At least you don't have to maintain a 3.8 to keep your scholarship."
Olivia… is on a scholarship.
How I didn’t know this, I’m not fucking sure.
I curse myself, roaring silently through gritted teeth, unable to believe that I’m learning about Olivia’s academic situation for the first time.
A scholarship means she’s smart as shit. First of all, getting into Saintswood is a feat in and of itself. To gain admittance on an academic scholarship, presumably with a full or semi-full ride, is unheard of.
Saintswood isn’t like the Ivies that reserve a certain number of spaces for academic scholarship students every year. We have plenty of athletic scholarships, but that’s because athletes are cool as shit.
At Harvard or Yale, dozens of scholarships are available for every freshman class because the legacy students and donors pay for it. Donors want the best talent from around the country to help their institution remain at the top of the intellectual pack. They’re willing to cough up funds to make that happen.
Saintswood is composed of almost entirely legacy students with zero room for outsiders. We don't want scholarship students no matter how intelligent they are because they’re notone of us.Saintswood values preserving the integrity of the elite over giving some down-and-out genius from the wrong side of the tracks a chance. Everyone is a pretentious rich snob here. It’s why we send more students to Ivy League law schools than any other private institution in the United States.
Olivia must’ve had a spark that no other prospective student had. She wowed someone in admissions, that’s a fucking fact.
Maybe they took one look at her little virgin tits and granted her entry.
Rina kicks her legs up. "I wouldn’t be able to live under that pressure."
"It’s even tougher than you think."
"If anyone can handle it, it’s you, girlie. You’re smarter than damn near all the bitches here."
Olivia twists her hair into a bun. "There are some pretty bright minds here. I have to admit, I’m intimidated."
"You havemorethan what it takes. You’re a real Hermione."
