Brad started awake from torturous dreams to the soft skin of his mistress’s inner-thigh. The golden glow of the morning sun illuminated the underside of Sir’s satin sheets, lending an angelic quality to her already flawless skin. He lay face-down between her legs. His cheek against her thigh; her fingers still tangled in his hair from the night before. His body ached and throbbed from his ordeal. Every part of him hurt. His fresh piercings, his tortured throat, his injured back-side, the muscles in his shoulders and arms, which remained tightly encased behind him in the nylon sleeve.
Fear frothed within him as he regained consciousness. Had he been given permission to sleep? He couldn’t remember. In fact, he couldn’t remember falling asleep, nor could he remember her pulling the sheets up over him, but he did remember feeling his mistress finally relax into slumber after her third orgasm. She had fallen asleep first hadn’t she?
He blinked the sleep away, trying to clear his head. The perspective that always accompanied the light of dawn settling on him like a massive weight; making his current predicament seem unreal and other-worldly. Like a bad dream. But here, beneath his master’s sheets, wrapped in her legs, he couldn’t deny that it had happened. Brad fought back a sob as the previous night replayed in his mind. He felt horrible — frightened, vulnerable, abused, and alone. But for the most part, aside from the pain, he felt deeply ashamed. Disgusted, by how he’d acted. The things the sorority girls had made him do and say. Ashamed of his weakness and the rapidity of his surrender and subjugation. Ashamed of the pleasure and arousal it had brought him — it brought him still.
It occurred to him that he might escape while the house was still asleep, and fear welled within him at the thought. He was viscerally conflicted about what to do now. Confused about what the right thing to do might be. Part of him wanted to resume pleasing Sir with his mouth, since technically she’d never commanded him to stop. He glanced at her lovely naked slit, the yearning to work his tongue into her originating deep within his belly and emanating upward into his throat. His cock and hips throbbed at the thought of waking her up with his tongue.
But another part of him, a part buried somewhere deep in the back of his skull wanted desperately to run away. A blind panic that demanded flight. It shot down from his head, colliding with his lust and acquiescence. Run or don’t run; neither seemed like the right thing to do. Both seemed equally terrifying and equally wrong.
As if hearing him, Sir stirred, shifting her hips to the side. He let himself slip off of her groin, stealing another wanton glance at her lovely naked midriff, waist, and thighs before sliding over the edge to his tender, bruised knees beside her bed.
He gained his feet quietly and turned toward the door, catching himself in the mirror and freezing at the sight. His idiotic morning hair was the least humiliating thing about him, which was saying a lot. He wore the new collar Sir had secured around his neck; a wide ornate blue-dyed leather collar bearing the Zeta Logo and Colors. Two polished stainless-steel straps ran its circumference, interlocking in the back via a built-in tubular lock mechanism. Its short, matching leash hung from a D-ring below his chin, dangling from his neck like an overly long necktie.
She’d dressed him in a skin-tight blue Zeta logo-T. It was cut off just under the logo so that it covered his breast but exposed his stomach like a slutty halter-top. She’d giggled despite herself as she forced the pair of matching cotton girl’s panties up to his waist. They were probably her own he surmised; at least 5 sizes too small for him, they creaked and stretched, biting into in his muscular thighs, unable to hold or even cover up his insatiable morning hard-on. The final touch was the rubber Pig-nose secured tightly to his face with an elastic band around the back of his head. It glistened in the morning light, still coated in Sir’s girl-cum — the hard-earned result of his efforts to please her.
Sir broke his revere, stirring again lightly, and he flinched, his heart leaping into his throat. Nervously, he turned his back to the door, testing the knob with his hands behind his back.
It turned freely.
He eased the knob clockwise as far as it would go, cracking open the heavy wooden door excruciatingly slowly and stepping backwards into the hallway. He froze as Sir stirred again lightly, turning onto her side and facing away from him, and then ventured another step into the hallway. He was fully out of the room now, and began to turn toward the hallway to ease her door closed behind him. His heart pounded in his ears as he reached this point of no return. He would tip-toe down the back stairwell, there had to be a fire exit behind the showers below. He would sprint away from the quad, away from greek row and, toward university-housing where the grad-students and young professors lived. He would pick a random house and beg for help, laughing it off as a fraternity prank. He’d borrow clothes and make it back to his house. No one would be the wiser.
Suddenly the hallway behind him exploded into violent cheering. He whirled in terror, gaping dumbly horrified at the sight. The entire length of the hallway was lined with Zeta Sisters. Each outside her door. They taunted, jeered, and whistled, several beating the walls and floor with crops and canes. Princess Jasmine blew an air-horn at him, the ear-shattering sound of it sending Brad sprawling back, landing painfully on his already shattered rear.
“hmAHH!” he cried, in terror and pain as he fell back, something soft breaking his fall before his back hit the foor. He looked up dumbly, seeing Sir smiling down at him. Her hair tussled beautifully, she was wearing his Sigma-Nu t-shirt as a nightgown. The one he had worn to the party last night. It seemed like so long ago.
“Whats-a-matter Bradley?” She smiled sympathetically down at him “I’m sure you’ve participated in a walk of shame before. It’s a sigma-nu tradition right? c’mon” she reached down, cupping the back of his head and helping him up to his knees. “Nothing to be scared of. Why don’t you be a good piggy and walk of shame it down to the kitchen and bring me back some breakfast, hmm?”
“Yes sir” he croaked reflexively, swallowing his tears. He’d taken part in plenty of walks of shame, but he’d never been the one doing the walking. He stood shakily, finding himself outmaneuvered once again. They’d known he would try to run before he had. There was no escape for him. He swallowed, looking down the hallway; it seemed to stretch on forever — the Zetas shouted and jeered. His cock throbbed for them, their happy slave. Maybe, the panic-stricken voice in the back of his head whispered, he could power through them? Sprint for the door? What if they’d anticipated that too? And what would they do to him if he failed?
Before he could act either way, he felt Sir spoon him from behind, cupping and squeezing his ass-cheek possessively in one hand and reaching into his halter-top and giving his nipple a playful pinch with the other. Lust thrashed in his groin in response to her touch. Piggy obeys, he thought euphorically.
“Go on.” she urged “Fetch my breakfast bitch”, she pumped her hips violently into his sore behind, sending him stumbling headlong into the hallway.
And so began his walk of shame, the Zetas spanking him down the length of the hall, whooping and hollering as he passed. Some used crops and canes, but most used their hands, which was worse because the open-handed blows reverberated into him, jarring his violated rectum excruciatingly. By the time he made it halfway down the hall he was jumping and flinching comically at their spanking, which only encouraged the delighted co-eds. Every time he’d flinch away, hiding his back from one side, the other side would cheer and smack him twice as much. He shrieked and cried, begging them tearfully to stop, ping-ponging back and fourth down the hall to the end, nearly falling over the banister at the landing as he made it through. They didn’t follow. High-fiving each other and retuning to their rooms, or turning each other to chat.
Looking down into the common room he saw the bondage frame and tables had been replaced with two couches, a throw-rug and a few plush looking chairs. It was as if last night had never happened. The sound of doors closing behind him, and the smell of bacon wafting up from the kitchen, accompanied by the happy sound of eggs frying. His ravenous stomach groaned audibly at the smell.
Another hand on his ass now; a warm chin joining it on his shoulder, he stiffened, expecting Sir’s sultry voice in his ear.
“Morning piggy piggy” Mistress Gina whispered playfully.
“Good morning Mistress Gina” he replied fearfully as the sorority girl who had taken his anal virginity less than 12 hours ago sumptuously explored the swell of his behind.
“Were you a good piggy last night?” she asked, her hand sliding around to his thigh, fingernails scraping across his exposed midriff. “Hmm? Did you give our Sir everything she wanted?” her fingernails bit into his waist
“Everything mistress” he breathed, arousal sloshing around in his loins at her dominant voice and fingers.
“Really? Because I thought you said you were going to.. what was it? Blow your load into her cunt brain?” she mocked, “Did you do blow your load in her brain after all? Or did you drop to your knees, and kneel down between Sir’s legs and worship her clit like a slave?” Brad tingled in humiliation and euphoria. How could it feel so liberating to be enslaved?
“Your piggy worshiped his mistress like the fuck-slave he is.” Brad breathed horsely, his eyes rolling upwards in pleasure as her fingertips trailed lightly down to his panty-line.
“Yeah I bet you did. She looks very satisfied. I guess in the end she made you her bitch huh?”
“yes mistress” he croaked, wincing at the pain in his throat.
“Yeeah. You enjoyed it too huh? All down on your knees like a whore, working your tongue up inside her?” she smiled, running her finger along the length of his hard-on. “Lapping up her cum like a thirsty dog. Did you like being her bitch?”
“Yes Mistress, your piggy loves to obey” he panted
“Nah I don’t give a fuck what piggy loves.” she nuzzled into him from behind, her sinewy athletic frame hugging into his shoulders “I want to hear from Mr Bradley Pritchet, Mr football badass, who told me he was gonna show me a good time. Mr Big Man on campus. I want to hear the Sigma-Nu chapter president tell me how much he liked being a Zeta girl’s bitch last night.” She wrapped her fingers firmly around his cock as Sir’s words echoed in his head: If your Mistress says talk, then talk like Barry White swallowed Shakespeare.
“I ah. I did.” He croaked in a hoarse whisper, turning his head toward her lips “I loved it Gina. Sincerely. I loved it when she shut my bitch-mouth up with the back of her hand. I loved it when shoved my bitch face against the wall and made me cum for her while she violated my asshole. I loved it when she forced me to my knees and made me crawl over to her; how she spat in my face, laced her fingers into my hair and wrenched me into her cunt where I belong. How she steered my bitch tongue where it needed to be as I eagerly worked to please her with my mouth. I love being Zeta’s bitch Gina. I was born to be Zeta’s fuck-toy”
“MMMMmm damn piggy, you sure know how to make a girl jealous. You gonna give your Mistress Gina some of that later?” his knees buckled as she stroked him lavishly.
“uh. As much as you want” he grunted. Gritting his teeth. “Whatever you want. Make me your bitch”.
“Mmmm.” she purred “Good piggy. Now, let’s not keep our Sir waiting” She urged him toward the stairs, giving his ass a healthy smack as he started to descend. Mistress Gina liked him to talk dirty like a slut. He would remember.
Doctor Elenor flitted here and there in the kitchen, naked beneath an apron embroidered with the words I love the taste of duct-tape in the morning. She was obviously a morning person, humming and dancing to the song in her head, her beautiful round ass accentuated by her movement as she happily juggled sizzling pans, coffee pots, and toasters.
“Good morning piggy” she smiled sweetly at him, “don’t you look lovely, all decked out in Zeta blue!” she held out a mouthpiece and he opened obediently. She placed it between his teeth, letting him bite down.
“Nice and tight now” she intoned, “just like last night” she socketed a tray into it and stroked his chin lovingly. He couldn’t help but smile back, her mood was infectious. “Ready?” she asked, holding up a plate laden with bacon, eggs and toast.
He nodded, wincing at the weight of the plate as it settled on the tray, tweaking his sore jaw muscles.
“Ok, up you go. Easy does it.” she gave him a pat on his behind as he turned carefully with the tray. Evidently, he thought distractedly, the Zeta’s found his ass fascinating. They just couldn’t keep their hands off it. His jaw began to throb as he ascended the stairs, and he picked up the pace, making it back down the now-deserted hallway, to Sir’s door before realizing he had no means to knock. He stood there for a moment, panic raising in him as his jaw weakened by the second, considering whether he should kick at the heavy door with his bare foot before another hand appeared on his hip, sliding down and closing around his cock once again.
“mmph” he grunted. This was becoming maddening.
“Are we nice and hard for our Sir?” Her Majesty Mistress Morgana’s voice asked behind him as she lightly squeezed his shaft. Her’s was the third closest door to Sir’s and Brad had began to intuit that there was some sort of hierarchy within their ranks, implied both by title from Sir to Lady to Mistress (the three exceptions being Doctor Elenor, Princess Jasmine, and Her Majesty Mistress Morgana) as well as position in the hallway.
“mmmmph” Brad nodded, hard like the rock of Gibraltar.
“That’s a good piggy. Always ready to be used right?”
He nodded again. Always ready.
“Ok, I’ll knock for you this time, but in the future it’s customary for piggy to face away from the door and knock with his heel against the bottom of the door, even when your hands aren’t tied ok?.”
He nodded again thankfully, as Morgana’s delicate hand moved from his cock to the door, knocking lightly before disappearing. Everyone was being so nice this morning.
Sir opened the door, retrieving his leash. “There’s my good piggy” she cooed, leading him in by his leash before closing the door.
She freed his arms from the sleeve, taking the tray out of his mouth and placing it in his hands instead. “Go lay down” she pointed to her bed. He sat carefully with the tray, laying back against the pillows when she stopped him again.
“tsk, bad piggy” he flinched, expecting a blow but none came, “Not on my pillows, head down where it belongs”, she raised an eyebrow at him.
He scooted down nervously, careful not to drop the tray, placing his head in the wet spot he’d waken up in.
“There we go” Sir cooed, joining him in bed. She sat up against the pillows and grabbing his hair, pulled his head up onto her crotch. Then she took the tray, un-socketing the mouthpiece and reseated it in his mouth. He bit down and she re-attached the tray to it from the bottom instead of the side, using him as a face-up breakfast-in-bed tray.
“Now what have we here?” she poked at the plate, sliding her feet down his chest to his groin, tickling his cock with her toes. “MMM bacon and eggs. But this is way too much for me. I’ll tell you what, you can have my left-overs. You’re going to need your strength today.” her feet worked up and down his cock exquisitely as she began to eat, and Brad, unable to help himself, ran his hands up the outside of Sir’s legs, squeezing her soft thigh’s firmly.
“MMm. yummy” she continued “No bacon for you though. I mean.. piggy eating bacon?! That’s just gross.” she munched thoughtfully. His cock throbbed happily in the throes of her foot-job as his hands worked their way beneath her, exploring from her thighs to her supple rear.
“It’s good that you didn’t make it outside Bradley” she said matter-of-factly, and he froze, his hands going limp between the mattress and her lovely back-side. “Your collar would have shocked you unconscious before you made it past the driveway, and you might have gotten hurt when you fell.” He stirred uncomfortably at the thought, remembering the stainless steel bands encircling his neck and Doctor Elenor’s shock collar.
“I know last night was hard, and today everything seems scary. I mean, it’s a lot of change, and it’s probably hard for you to understand how it’s going to work, but everything is going to be fine.” She reached down, rubbing his chest over his heart. “You don’t need to worry about anything at all. You belong to Zeta house now, and we’re going to take good care of you.” He pulled one of his hands free, grasping hers on his chest. In truth he was scared. He didn’t know what was going to happen to him; what was going to happen to his life.
“We’ve thought of everything: Your parents, your idiot fraternity brothers, your Degree, your future. It’s all in hand. All you need to worry about is pleasing your Mistress, and just leave the rest to us.” She squeezed his hand comfortingly. Could it be true? Could it really be that easy? “We’ve done it all before you know, at campuses all over the country.”
She lifted the tray off his face, taking the mouthpiece and setting it on her nightstand. He gazed up at her worshipfully “You’ll see. Today, you’ll be free to walk around, and we’ll show you what your new life will be like. You won’t try to run away again because you’re an obedient piggy aren’t you?”
“yes sir” he croaked. Why had ever wanted run in the first place?
“And tomorrow, you’ll get one more chance to leave. And after that you’ll be ours for good.”
Brad tried to imagine it. A life of blissful servitude to an ever-changing house of co-eds. A life of pleasure, and lust, surrounded by beautiful masters eager to use and abuse him. Nothing to worry about but his master’s next orgasm. He could picture it — comprehend it. It seemed real. More real than the foggy life that awaited him as an MBA. A life of numbers and bosses and business competitors. A confusing life of children and divorce.
“Forever?” he horsely whispered.
“Yes. Forever and ever. Unless you decide to leave tomorrow. Do you think you will?”
“No sir”
“No.” she agreed, kissing him gently on the forehead “I don’t think you will either”