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I was so excited to pull up at Saintswood two weeks ago for orientation. I was finally away from my stepbrother and I could start a new life. Find myself. Read poetry as I meandered around the quad of one of the most elite private institutions in the country.
Instead, I encountered three menaces. Bullies who take what they want without asking.
A chill travels up my spine as I exit the bathroom. I recall Colt’s face, his dead eyes as he stared down at me with abject apathy. His cock was so thick and strong in my throat and I can still taste his cum even though I’ve brushed my teeth a dozen times.
Brock’s phantom hand on my head has never left even though I’ve brushed my hair countless times. It holds me in place, preventing me from looking left or right, forcing me to stay on my knees like a good girl and take Colt’s cock. Then, Brock’s cum splatters on my head, some trickling onto my neck which makes me tense up.
I feel Rook’s giant shaft in my right palm. Even though I wipe my hand on my thighs every time I recall this memory, it doesn’t go away. It stays there, pulsating and aching, the tip angry and pink and ready to paint my cheek. Then, the blast hits and I try to blink hard to keep his seed out of my eyes, but some slips through. The whites of my eyes are pink as I splash water on my face in the bathroom, attempting to scrub every trace of it out of my mind.
Rook’s finger has stayed in my pussy every day this week. I clench instinctively, yet it doesn’t dispel the sensation. It sticks inside there, like a doctor who crosses boundaries during a physical examination. It plunges deeper, before traveling to my clit and squeezing it.
"I can’t believe it’s only the start of the semester and this has already happened to me."
I’m wearing my baggiest sweatshirt with a hood and sweatpants today because the last thing I want is for any more Sinners to look at me. Something about my sweater that night must’ve sent Colt, Brock, and Rook the wrong signals. Or maybe it was when I caught Brock and Rook’s eyes across the room, only because I couldn’t believe I was at the same party as the football players I’d watched on my laptop so many times.
Their cocks were on me. In my throat. In my hair. Painting my cheeks. Dousing me in cum.
Think positive thoughts. Quit being so negative.
Countless girls at Saintswood would kill to be in my position. I saw the way those girls in the kitty ears threw themselves at Colt as if he was a God amongst men. Heisa deity at least according to the rumors I’ve read about him on the campus gossip sites. In the locker room, the other players dry him off after showers and dress him, and even get him Gatorade like whimpering little bitches. He owns the administrators, professors, HAs, and entire student body. Nobody is off limits to Colt because he could bring them to their knees with a single glance.
Many girls have tried to lock Colt down. One of those girls is Trace Jenkins, the Dean of Students’ daughter. I looked up her TikTok and couldn’t believe how cute she was. Rumor has it that she’s tried to get with Colt for years because Colt once fucked one of her friends, but he turns her down every time. That doesn’t make sense to me. She’s an actual supermodel who’s walked runaways in Rome, Paris, and Milan. She’s the type of girl who turns what she touches into gold, and no fewer than one hundred percent of the men here on campus want her. Yet Colt didn’t choose to go after her at the party last weekend. He picked me.
I also read that many girls here have tried to take Brock off the market. One post that popped up this afternoon confirmed that he’s a total playboy. A few sophomores took a shot at him after practice and he told them that they disgusted him.I didn’t disgust him.
And lastly, Rook. I envision the way his mammoth erection spurted on my face and think about all the girls who must be fighting over his huge cock. Never in my wildest dreams did I picture Rook’s dick to look like that. How does he keep it in his pants during games? He must tie it in a knot or loop it around itself three times. No nut cup on the face of this planet is giant enough to contain it. And his balls, too. They’re so thick and huge, full of what he must give. There must be dozens of girls after Rook, even though the rumor is that Rook isn’t into girls his own age. He likes older women. Mature ladies with experience.
I rub my arms, then bite my lower lip. I don't have experience so I don't know why Rook picked me. Or Colt or Brock. I was probably the only girl at that party who was a virgin and they destroyed me. Called me a slut. A whore.
I’m none of those things.
I’m a good girl.
Nate:I hope you’re doing well at Saintswood <3
Most times, an unexpected text from Nate would gross me out. Today, even my creepy stepbrother is a comforting presence.
Me:Just going through typical freshman shit
Nate:No hazing, I hope
Me:I got bullied pretty badly last weekend, but I’ll manage
Nate:Tell me who those girls are. I’ll kick their asses
I wonder what Nate would do if I told him that my bullies weren’t girls. They were fully grown men with bulging muscles, chiseled jaws, and washboard abs that put Nate’s scrawny body to shame. Men most girls would pay to have them bully them around.
Me:I can handle it. If anything changes, I’ll let you know
Nate:I miss you, stepsis :)
My stomach churns when I read this message. Sliding my phone in my pocket, I pretend like I didn’t see the smiley face he threw in like he didn’t think I'd notice.
Nate was always weird when I was growing up. Even before he started getting naked around me, he’d randomly start singing at odd hours of the day and fly into rage tantrums. He broke a few windows because my mother wouldn’t let him smoke on the porch as a teenager. When she passed away, he didn’t even attend her funeral.
That’s when Nate started paying more attention to me. He began complimenting my appearance, telling me that he couldn’t believe I was growing up so fast. The times where he’d strip off while exiting the shower began, too. He’d plop down next to me on my bed totally naked and ask me what I was up to.
"How did I get into this mess?" I want to text Rina, but I don't want to come across as pathetic and weak. Besides, Rina wouldn’t understand what I went through. She’s a popular girl with a perfect figure and she’s never lacked for male attention. At least, that’s what I think. She probably gets with guys like Colt, Brock, and Rook all the time. She might even tease me because I can’t handle being with real men like them.
