Chapter Four

Awakening brought a sudden rush of panic to the young woman in the bed. Julia shifted on her mattress and reached up to touch her throat, her acrylic nails scraping against the pink leather collar fastened securely around her neck. The punitive device served as a stark reminder of her new reality. She wore a white silk nightgown that fell to her mid-thigh, offering a brief physical reprieve from the slutty outfits her blackmailer forced upon her yesterday. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, feeling her false lashes brush against her fingers.

She reached for her smartphone resting on the nightstand and tapped the screen. She opened her social media applications to check her notifications, but a sterile login prompt blocked her access. She typed her password with her awkward artificial fingertips. An error message popped up, informing her that her credentials were changed during the night. She tried her backup email and her recovery accounts, but the system rejected every single attempt.

A sinking sensation settled deep in the transwoman’s stomach. She opened a web browser and searched for her own public profile. The page loaded a moment later, broadcasting a devastating overhaul of her digital identity.

Her display name was changed across every platform. She was no longer listed as Julia Lopez, the aspiring valedictorian and outspoken feminist activist. The bold text simply read Barbie. Her carefully curated feed of academic achievements was gone. In its place was a relentless flood of trashy selfies she never remembered taking. The photos highlighted her bleached blonde hair, her thick makeup, and the swollen, glossy pout of her injected lips. The captions were filled with vapid emojis and shallow hashtags declaring her love for her new hyper-feminine aesthetic. Enzo had to be responsible for this. He had weaponized her online presence to cement her reputation as an airheaded bimbo, ensuring the entire student body saw the degrading images.

She navigated to her messaging application, praying that her personal texts were spared from the digital massacre. She opened her direct messages and tapped on the thread she shared with Kara. A recent text sent from her phone stared back at her.

“Kara, you deserve a real man. And honestly, so do I. I’m just a cock-hungry sissy failure who needs to embrace being a bimbo slut. We’re done.”

The message had the blue tick to signify that it had been read, but there was no reply.

Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to ruin her pristine eyeliner if it wasn’t stuck on. The cruelty of the message took her breath away. Enzo had drafted the breakup text while she slept, utilizing offensive slurs to shatter the most supportive relationship she had ever known. She imagined Kara reading those words and feeling a sickening wave of betrayal. How could she come back from this?

She needed to get to school and set things right. She tossed the phone onto the bed and turned toward her dresser to grab some clothes. Her eyes locked onto a cardboard box resting on the wooden surface. It was not there when she went to bed last night. Someone had invaded her private space while she slept, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to decipher the leading suspect. A black marker spelled out ‘Today’s Uniform’ across the top flaps.

She peeled back the cardboard flaps with her sharp nails, her stomach twisting into a tight knot at the sight of the garments inside. Enzo had provided a mock schoolgirl uniform designed to degrade her even further. She pulled out a pleated plaid miniskirt that was barely long enough to cover her underwear. A white blouse accompanied it, pre-tied at the bottom to expose her entire midriff. A pair of white thigh-high stockings and tall pink stilettos rested at the bottom of the package. It was a humiliating costume meant for a cheap porno, and she was expected to parade it down the high school corridors.

She stripped off her silk nightgown and slid into the trashy garments, fearing the blackmail video on his phone too much to rebel. The short skirt didn’t even reach the tops of her thighs, leaving the lace edges of the white stockings exposed. The tied blouse pushed her small breasts up to maximize her cleavage. She checked the vanity mirror, hating the hyper-feminine bimbo staring back. The thick makeup and plump pink lips still ruined her face. She needed to get downstairs, grab a quick bite, and find her mother.

She walked out of her bedroom and descended the wooden staircase. The sound of morning conversation drifted from the kitchen. She recognized her mother’s cheerful tone, but a second voice accompanying it made her stop on the bottom step. It was a masculine cadence she knew all too well.

She stepped into the kitchen and found Sandra pouring a cup of coffee near the counter. Enzo sat casually at the dining table, wearing his varsity jacket and acting like a polite teenage guest.

“Look who finally woke up,” the girl’s mother said.

She offered a warm smile as she placed the coffee pot back on the warmer.

“Good morning, Barbie,” Enzo greeted jovially.

He leaned back in the wooden chair and offered a smug grin. “Your mom and I were just having a great chat about your new style.”

“Good—” Julia started to reply, but a sharp, electrical frizzle vibrated against the pink leather collar fastened around her throat, cutting her off. The device served as a painful reminder to alter her vocabulary and tone before the voltage punished her.

“Like, good morning,” she corrected herself, forcing a breathy, high-pitched giggle to escape her swollen lips.

Sandra was taken aback by the sudden feminine lilt and glanced at Enzo as if she didn’t know how to react. She then smiled fondly at her daughter from across the kitchen island. “Enzo was just telling me how nervous you were to embrace your feminine side, honey. I’m so glad you have a friend who supports your transition as much as he does. I’m a good judge of character, and this young man is really looking out for you.”

“She just needed a little push,” Enzo said, keeping his eyes locked onto the trans woman to convey a silent threat. “Don’t you think the name Barbie suits her far better than Julia, Mrs. Lopez?”

“It is certainly very fitting for her new look if that’s what she wants,” the mother agreed, pouring a dash of creamer into her coffee mug. “You look beautiful, sweetie. That little uniform is very cute. I’m proud of you for exploring what makes you happy.”

Julia dug her long acrylic nails into her palms to keep from screaming. The athlete was gaslighting her own mother right in front of her, framing the degradation as a courageous step in her gender transition. The collar buzzed against her skin again, demanding a very specific, enthusiastic response.

“Omigod, thank you so much, Mom,” the blonde squeaked. “I’m, like, so happy you like it.”

“Enzo’s one of the good ones,” Sandra replied, checking the digital clock on the microwave with a sudden gasp. “I need to get to work, or I’ll miss my morning meeting. You two have a good day at school.”

The older woman walked over and placed a quick kiss on her daughter’s cheek. She grabbed her purse from the counter and hurried out of the kitchen, letting the front door click shut a moment later.

The polite facade vanished from Enzo’s face the second they were alone. He stood up from the dining table and walked toward the kitchen island, resting his hands on the marble surface.

“You’re getting really good at that voice, Barbie,” the jock taunted, a malicious gleam in his eyes.

“Why are you doing this?” Julia whispered. “You ruined my social media accounts. You sent that awful text to Kara. You want to isolate me from everyone.”

The transwoman thought she had gotten away with it by using a soft cadence, but the blonde cried out in agony as the collar responded with a hard punishment.

Enzo merely chuckled. “You might want to rephrase that, Barbie.”

The jolt of electricity left a lingering ache in her neck. Tears stung her eyes as she rubbed the pink leather strap, terrified of triggering another surge. She forced her posture to soften, tilting her head and batting her massive false lashes at the cruel athlete.

“Like, why are you being so mean to me, Enzo?” she whimpered, raising the pitch of her voice to a breathy squeak. “You, like, ruined my social media and sent that mean text to my girlfriend. Now I don’t have anyone to talk to.”

“Much better. I’m just helping you shed your dead weight,” Enzo replied. “A sissy slut like you doesn’t need a feminist girlfriend. You need to focus on what you were built for. Besides, everyone else is already talking about you.”

“What do you mean?” Barbie asked, her stomach twisting into a knot of dread.

“Tyrone posted a picture online last night,” the bully explained with a wicked grin. “It shows you right at home on your knees in the boys’ bathroom. The whole school has seen it by now.”

A wave of shame washed over the young woman. The bathroom encounter was public knowledge, broadcast for the entire student body to scrutinize.

“I, like, did what you asked,” the blonde pleaded, making sure her cadence remained incredibly ditzy. “I finished your stupid task. Just tell me what this big project is so I can, like, totally earn my freedom.”

Enzo laughed as he reached down and grabbed his backpack from the floor. He slung the strap over his broad shoulder and turned toward the hallway.

“You’re designing the project yourself, remember?” he taunted.

He stopped near the front door and offered a final, cold stare.

“It needs to be a big public display that proves you’ve accepted your place as the school’s bimbo,” the bully commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “It has to be far more humiliating than anything I’ve assigned you so far. I’ll see you at school, Barbie. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

The teenager watched him walk out of the house. She stood trembling in the kitchen, her skimpy uniform offering zero comfort against her rising panic. The clock was ticking down on her final chance to reclaim her life, and she had to figure out a plan before the end of the day.

❖

*Enzo*

Sitting inside the cab of my truck gave me the perfect view of the school parking lot. I kept the engine running just to hear the rumble while I scrolled through my phone. The main student group chat was going crazy this morning. I scrolled up to the top of the feed to look at the picture Tyrone posted last night. It was a masterpiece of humiliation.

The photo showed the little faggot on his knees in the boys’ bathroom. The fake blonde hair was a mess, but that semi-permanent bimbo makeup was locked perfectly onto his face, freezing him in that pathetic, slutty expression. It was exactly where a freak like that belonged. The comments underneath the picture were rolling in every few seconds. Guys were calling him a cheap slut. Girls were calling him a trashy whore. Everyone was laughing. Nobody felt sorry for the supposed valedictorian. I smiled and typed out a quick comment from one of my fake accounts, calling the sissy a cock-hungry bimbo, just to keep the fire going.

I switched over to the messaging app and checked the hacked account to see the damage. I read the breakup text I sent to Kara while the loser was sleeping. The little blue tick sat at the bottom of the screen. Kara had read the message hours ago, but she hadn’t typed a single word in response. There were no crying emojis, no angry paragraphs, and no begging for an explanation. Just total silence. I loved it. The silence meant she was too broken and devastated even to reply. I didn’t care about her feelings. I just wanted to destroy their little fake relationship. Two freaks playing dress-up as feminists always made me sick. The sissy thought he was so smart, acting like a progressive woman who was better than all the athletes at this school. It was all a giant lie. He was just a confused boy who wanted to be treated like a slutty piece of meat. I was doing him a favor by forcing him to accept his true nature.

I looked up from the screen and watched the front entrance of the high school. Students were crowding around the main steps before the first bell. I could see small groups huddling together across the courtyard. They were all looking down at their phones. A few of the guys pointed at the screens and laughed, shoving each other in the shoulder. A group of cheerleaders stood near the glass doors, whispering behind their hands and shaking their heads in disgust. The whole campus was treating the leaked photo like front-page news.

My mind drifted back to the fucker’s kitchen from an hour ago. The look of panic in the boy’s eyes when I sat there talking to his mother was priceless. The stupid woman swallowed every single lie I fed her. She actually thanked me for helping her kid dress up like a bimbo pornstar. She thought the pink collar and the slutty clothes were part of some brave gender journey. People are so easy to trick when you tell them what they want to hear. I despise weak parents who let their sons act like girls, so manipulating Sandra was just an added bonus. And every time the sissy tried to speak up, I just waited until that collar shot a shock right into his throat. Watching him force out that breathy, high-pitched giggle to appease the device was the best part of my morning. He is learning his place.

A familiar car pulled into the parking lot a few rows away. I leaned forward and rested my arms on the steering wheel. The driver’s side door opened, and Barbie stepped out into the morning air.

I actually laughed out loud at the sight of him. He was wearing the mock schoolgirl uniform I left in his bedroom. I had already seen him dressed earlier this morning, but seeing him wear the outfit in a public setting was hilarious. The pleated plaid miniskirt was way too short, riding up high on his thighs. The white blouse was knotted tight, leaving his pale midriff exposed to the morning breeze. He wore white thigh-high stockings with lace edges, and he clearly struggled to keep his balance in the tall pink stilettos.

He looked like a brainless sissy bimbo begging for attention from a crowd of men.

I watched the sissy shut the car door and start walking toward the main building. The high heels made his steps awkward and slow. He kept his head down, trying to hide behind the bleached blonde hair, but the permanent makeup and the massive fake eyelashes made it impossible for him to blend in. Every single step forced his hips to sway just to keep his balance, putting the tiny skirt on full display.

The whispers started the second he reached the edge of the crowd. The students who were just staring at their phones a minute ago looked up and saw the real thing walking right toward them. A sophomore guy stepped into Barbie’s path and whispered a crude insult, asking how much it cost for a quick session in the bathroom.

I watched Barbie freeze. I knew he wanted to yell back. I knew the old Julia would have delivered some pretentious speech about respect and boundaries. But the collar was wrapped tight around his neck. If he raised his voice or used aggressive words, the leather strap would burn him.

Instead of fighting back, the sissy offered a vacant, vapid smile. He stepped around the sophomore and kept walking toward the glass doors. The cheerleaders started laughing loud enough for the whole courtyard to hear. They called him a desperate whore. They mocked the pink shoes and the slutty uniform. Barbie just took it. He took every single insult and kept walking, looking exactly like the pathetic joke I designed him to be.

I leaned back against my seat and tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. The morning was going perfectly. His reputation was as good as dead. His girlfriend wanted nothing to do with him. His mother was clueless. He had no one left to run to, and the whole school knew he was just a submissive slut for the boys to use.

But I knew a few mean words in the courtyard wouldn’t be enough to break him for good. The boy still had some stubborn pride buried deep down inside. He still thought he could go to an Ivy League college and pretend this never happened. That was why I gave him the assignment. The big project. He had until the end of the day to come up with a public display that proved he belonged at the bottom of the social ladder. It had to be something so degrading that he could never come back from it. He needed to willingly destroy whatever future he had left.

I checked the time on my dashboard and grabbed my backpack from the passenger seat. I popped the door open and stepped out onto the asphalt. I was ready to see what the sissy would do to save his friends from getting expelled. I was ready to watch him ruin his own life.

❖

Navigating the crowded high school corridors felt like walking through an active warzone. The morning bell had not yet rung to signal the start of first period, leaving hundreds of students loitering near their lockers and lingering outside the classrooms. The entire student body seemed to be talking about the exact same thing. Whispers erupted into outright laughter every time the young woman took a step forward. Groups of teenagers pointed their smartphones in her direction, making sure she knew they were looking at the explicit photo Tyrone had posted the night before.

She kept her chin tucked down toward her chest to avoid making eye contact with her tormentors. A group of junior boys stood near the water fountain and actively blocked her path. They wore malicious grins and refused to step aside when she approached.

“Hey, bimbo,” one of the boys called out, crossing his arms over his chest to trap her against the lockers. “Tyrone said you swallow on the first date. Is that true? Because my buddy here has a twenty-dollar bill with your name on it.”

The trans woman felt a surge of rage bubble up in her chest. She wanted to slap the smug grin off his face and deliver a scathing lecture about respect, but the pink leather collar fastened around her throat offered a quiet warning vibration against her skin. The device reminded her that any aggressive or masculine response would result in agonizing pain.

“Like, excuse me,” she murmured in a breathy, high-pitched squeal.

She offered a vacant smile, batting her long eyelashes at the boys as she squeezed past them. Their mocking laughter followed her down the hall, echoing off the linoleum floors and driving a spike of humiliation deep into her core. She could not endure another second of this public embarrassment. She spotted the girls’ restroom up ahead and practically threw herself through the wooden door, desperate for a few minutes of isolated space.

The restroom was empty when she rushed inside. She hurried over to the sinks and gripped the porcelain edge with her acrylic nails, taking deep, shuddering breaths to calm her racing heart. She refused to look up into the mirrors, terrified of seeing the hyper-feminine whore staring back at her. The permanent makeup felt like a brand on her face, marking her as a trashy joke for the rest of the school to whisper about. She closed her eyes and prayed for the morning bell to ring so the hallways would clear out.

The main door swung open behind her, shattering her fragile peace.

A group of three senior girls walked into the restroom. Chloe, the blonde cheerleader who usually sat near Enzo at lunch, led the pack. The girls stopped dead in their tracks the moment they saw who was standing by the sinks. Their surprised expressions quickly melted into nasty, predatory sneers.

“Well, look what we have here,” Chloe said, stepping closer with her friends flanking her sides. “The school’s most famous slut decided to grace us with her presence.”

Julia shrank back against the counter, her stomach tying itself into a tight knot. She knew she was cornered.

“I saw the picture Tyrone posted,” a brunette girl added, looking the trans woman up and down with obvious disgust. “You looked right at home on your knees. I guess all that feminist garbage you used to preach was just a cover-up for what you really are.”

“She’s a joke,” Chloe agreed, stepping right into her personal space. “You think you can do what you did and still become the school valedictorian? A brainless bimbo like you doesn’t belong in AP classes. You belong on your knees in the boys’ locker room.”

The urge to defend her academic record was overwhelming. She had worked for years to secure her place at the top of the class, earning straight As and dedicating every weekend to studying. She wanted to tell the cheerleaders to back off, but the collar sensed the rising aggression in her vocal cords. A sharp electrical sting bit into her neck, a painful reminder not to drop the required submissive dialect.

“Like, just let me pass,” the trans woman squeaked, forcing a breathy, high-pitched cadence to avoid another shock.

She stepped forward to bypass the trio, but the blonde cheerleader sidestepped and shoved a hand against her shoulder. Chloe easily pushed her back against the porcelain sinks, blocking the only exit.

“I wasn’t done talking to you, sissy,” the bully spat, a cruel grin stretching across her face. “You think using that stupid fake voice makes you cute? It just proves you’re a brainless freak. Everybody knows you’re just a cheap slut who wishes she was getting fucked by the football team.”

“Yeah, you should just drop out now,” the brunette added, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nobody wants a trashy whore giving the graduation speech.”

Julia knew she could not win a physical fight here, and the restrictive leather strap prevented her from yelling back. She took a deep breath, lowered her head, and forcefully barged her way through the narrow gap between two of the cheerleaders.

“Like, move,” she whimpered, maintaining the ditzy pitch to keep the collar satisfied as she shoved past them.

Chloe shouted another nasty insult, but the trans woman ignored the cruel words. She pushed the door open and escaped back into the corridor just as the morning bell echoed through the school.

The hallways rapidly emptied as students rushed to their designated classrooms. She hurried past a row of metal lockers, not caring where she was going as long as it was away from the mocking crowds. She just wanted to find a quiet corner to sit down and think, but her luck had run out once again.

“Julia Lopez,” a stern voice called out from the end of the hallway.

She froze in her tracks. Mrs. Gable, the strict AP History teacher, stood outside her classroom door with her arms folded across her blouse. The older educator glared over the rim of her reading glasses, her expression conveying a mix of shock and severe disapproval.

“You are late for first period, Julia,” Mrs. Gable scolded, walking briskly down the corridor to close the distance between them. “Why are you loitering in the hallway? And what on earth are you wearing to my school? You look like you belong on a street corner, not in a place like this.”

Hearing her real name spoken aloud felt like a cruel taunt. It reminded her of the intelligent, ambitious student she used to be just forty-eight hours ago. She wanted to apologize to the teacher and promise that she’d get changed this instant.

She opened her mouth to speak, but a tiny surge of electricity shot through the leather collar.

The device punished her for simply acknowledging her former identity. The shock was brief but intense enough to make her knees buckle. She grabbed the edge of a nearby metal locker to keep from falling over. The device was unrelenting. It demanded immediate submission to the new persona Enzo had encouraged her to use.

“My name is Barbie, Mrs. Gable,” she whimpered, raising the pitch of her voice to a pathetic, breathy squeal just to make the burning sensation stop. “I’m, like, really sorry I’m late. I just got lost trying to find the classroom.”

Mrs. Gable’s jaw dropped. The teacher looked at the student as if she had grown a second head.

“Excuse me?” the educator demanded, offended by the ditzy tone. “Did you just call yourself Barbie? Have you lost your mind? What has gotten into you, Julia? You will go straight to the administration office and wait for the principal. I will not have a student dressed like a cheap harlot disrupting my classroom.”

The teacher turned her back and marched into the AP History room, slamming the door shut.

The harsh dismissal echoed in the empty hallway, but it sparked a sudden realization in the blonde’s mind. She finally understood what Enzo wanted from her. The bully hated her intelligence. He hated that a progressive trans woman was the smartest person in the school, outshining all the popular athletes. He wanted to destroy her academic reputation to prove she was nothing more than a brainless sex object. That was the big project he had demanded. He wanted her to willingly sacrifice her pride, her future, and her valedictorian status in front of the entire student body.

A sense of bitter resignation washed over her. She knew she had no choice. If she didn’t give the athlete exactly what he wanted, he would make her time here so much worse, potentially expel her friends, and ruin their lives. She pushed herself away from the locker and started walking.

She navigated down the quiet corridor and turned the corner, heading directly for the main administration office.

The front desk was empty when she pushed through the glass doors. Ms. Higgins, the school secretary, was standing near the back filing cabinets with her back turned, aggressively searching for a misplaced folder. The PA system microphone sat unattended in the center of the wooden reception desk.

She knew there was no going back once she pressed the button. This act would cement her status as a dumb slut. It would kill her Ivy League applications and turn her into a long-running joke. She took a deep breath, accepting her fate, and walked behind the reception desk.

She pressed her thumb against the intercom button and leaned close to the microphone. The system emitted a loud electronic chime that broadcast into every classroom, hallway, and cafeteria on the campus.

“Like, hi everyone,” Barbie announced, her breathy, valley-girl dialect echoing through the ceiling speakers above her head. “This is Barbie.”

She paused, imagining the stunned faces of her classmates and teachers as they listened to the sudden broadcast.

“I just wanted to make, like, a quick announcement to the whole school,” she continued, forcing a ditzy giggle into the microphone to appease the collar and satisfy her blackmailer. “I am officially dropping out of the race for valedictorian. Math and science are just, like, way too hard for my brain. I don’t want to read boring books anymore. I just want to focus on boys and looking pretty for them.”

Ms. Higgins spun around from the filing cabinets, her eyes widening in horror as she realized a student had hijacked the intercom.

“Hey!” the secretary shouted, dropping a stack of folders onto the floor. “Get away from that desk!”

Barbie kept her finger pressed on the button, determined to finish her humiliating surrender before she was dragged away.

“So, yeah, I’m just a brainless bimbo now,” she squeaked into the microphone, her voice trembling as she threw away everything she had ever worked for. “Thanks for listening, guys. Bye!”

She released the button just as Ms. Higgins rushed over and snatched the microphone away from her. The secretary looked furious, pointing a trembling finger toward the principal’s door. The young woman did not argue or fight back. She simply stood there, feeling an immense, crushing emptiness settle into her chest. She had executed her big project, sacrificing her entire identity and academic career to appease a monster, and all she could do now was pray it was enough to satisfy him.

❖

Two grueling hours had passed since the disastrous stunt in the administration office. The principal had dragged Julia into his office the moment Ms. Higgins snatched the microphone away. The resulting lecture was brutal. He handed down an official, final warning, making it crystal clear that one more incident would result in her expulsion. Her entire academic career was hanging by a thread, and she had spent the last two periods sitting silently in the back of her classrooms, terrified of making a single mistake.

The lunch bell finally rang, sending a flood of hungry teenagers into the corridors. Julia walked slowly down the main hallway, keeping her head down as she approached the double doors of the cafeteria. She just wanted to find an empty classroom or a quiet corner to hide in until the afternoon classes started.

“Hey, Barbie,” a loud, arrogant voice called out from the cafeteria entrance.

Julia froze in her tracks. She turned her head and saw Enzo walking through the wide double doors, flanked by a few guys from the football team and a small group of senior cheerleaders. The jock wore a smug grin. He stopped in the middle of the hallway and snapped his fingers, pointing directly at the linoleum floor next to his sneakers. He expected her to come to him like an obedient pet.

The intelligent trans woman inside wanted to run the other way. Julia knew sitting with her blackmailer in a crowded lunchroom was a terrible idea, especially with the threat of expulsion hanging over her head. But she also knew ignoring him would only provoke his wrath. She swallowed her pride, forced her hips to sway to keep her balance in the tall pink stilettos, and walked toward the popular crowd.

The blonde cheerleader, Chloe, stepped forward as soon as Julia reached the group. She linked her arm through Julia’s, offering a massive, fake smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Omigod, hi bestie,” Chloe chirped, squeezing the trans woman’s arm tightly. “You are so brave for showing your face in public today. I mean, most guys would just hide at home after getting exposed as a desperate whore, but you just own it. Your makeup is so trashy, but it really works for a sissy like you.”

“Like, thank you,” Julia squeaked in utter confusion.

“It is just so cute,” the cheerleader continued, dragging Julia through the doors and deep into the crowded cafeteria. “We are going to be such good friends now that you stopped pretending to be smart. You make the rest of us look so good when you act like a brainless slut. I always knew you were faking that progressive feminist attitude.”

Enzo led the group toward a large circular table right in the middle of the room. The entire cafeteria seemed to quiet down as the surrounding students turned to watch the spectacle. The jock took a seat on the bench and spread his legs wide. He didn’t leave any room on the bench for Julia to sit next to him. Instead, he reached out, grabbed her by the hips, and pulled her backward.

Julia gasped as she landed squarely on Enzo’s lap. The pleated plaid miniskirt rode dangerously high up her thighs, threatening to expose her genitals to the world. She tried to shift her weight and slide off his legs to find her own seat, but Enzo wrapped a strong arm around her waist, locking her firmly in place.

“You belong right here, bimbo,” the athlete whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “Sit still and smile for your audience. Play along, Barbie.”

Julia reluctantly decided to stop struggling. She knew fighting back in front of everyone would only give Enzo an excuse to send the cheating evidence to the school. She took a deep breath, swallowed her pride, and plastered a vacant, empty smile onto her face. She chose to play the role of the brainless bimbo to survive the afternoon, resting her hands on her lap.

Chloe sat across the plastic table and pulled out a compact mirror to check her lipstick. She gossiped with the other girls, talking about Julia as if the trans woman wasn’t sitting right in front of them.

“I just can’t believe she used to sit in AP Biology with us,” one of the brunette cheerleaders laughed, picking at her salad with a plastic fork. “She looks like she charges ten bucks for a quick session in the parking lot.”

“I know, right?” Chloe agreed, snapping her compact shut and offering a wicked smirk. “But honestly, it suits her. Sissies are just meant to be used. They don’t need to know how to do math or read books.”

Julia wanted to steer the conversation away from her own humiliation. She scanned the plastic table for any distraction, settling her eyes on the untouched food trays.

“Like, did you guys see the new menu options today?” she asked, forcing her tone into a high, breathy squeak to ensure the pink collar remained dormant. “The salad looks super fresh.”

Chloe simply rolled her eyes and turned her back, ignoring the attempt to change the subject. The trans woman sighed in relief; she preferred their silence over their cruel insults.

Enzo leaned forward, pressing his chest against her back. He brought his mouth right next to her ear so no one else at the noisy table could hear his words.

“Would you rather go back to being a boy, or be a bimbo Barbie?” he taunted, his voice laced with malice. “Because let’s be honest, Barbie. A bimbo like you is built to suck off guys. You are nothing but a slutty mouth and a pair of doe eyes. You were always meant to be a dumb whore.”

While the table chuckled at her expression, Julia swallowed hard, refusing to let his cruel words break her focus. She had humiliated herself in front of the entire school just two hours ago. She needed to know if that sacrifice had bought her freedom.

“So, like, did I pass the project?” Julia whispered, keeping her voice high and breathy as she tilted her head back to look at his face. “I did what you wanted. I showed everyone I’m just a dumb joke.”

Enzo stared down at her, his eyes devoid of any sympathy. He let out a harsh, mocking laugh that made the other students at the table look over in their direction.

“You think that stupid stunt on the intercom was enough?” the bully sneered, his fingers digging into her waist. “That was boring. It was pathetic. You think that was your big project?”

Panic flared in the trans woman’s chest. She had risked immediate expulsion for that broadcast. The principal had given her a final warning, and Enzo sat here telling her it meant nothing.

“But I, like, got myself in trouble,” she whimpered, maintaining the ditzy pitch dictated by the collar. “Like, I gave up everything.”

“You dropped out of a stupid academic race,” Enzo corrected, leaning forward until his nose almost brushed her cheek. “Nobody cares about who the valedictorian is. I told you to prove you belong at the very bottom of the social ladder. I told you to do something so degrading that you could never come back from it. A boring little intercom announcement doesn’t cross the line, Barbie. I fail your project.”

Julia felt the air leave her lungs. The cafeteria noise faded into a dull buzz as the grim reality set in. She had failed.

“But I am in a generous mood. You have until the end of the school day,” Enzo whispered, his tone dropping into a cold, serious threat. “One final chance. You need to do something unforgettable. You need to prove you are nothing more than a cheap, usable whore. If I don’t hear the entire school talking about it by the time the final bell rings, I’m sending the cheating evidence straight to the principal. Your friends will get expelled, and you will go down with them.”

He shoved the blonde forward, forcing her to stand up from his lap. Julia stumbled in her pink stilettos, her hands flying out to catch her balance against the edge of the table. The football players laughed loudly at her clumsy movements, pointing at the short skirt riding high.

“Run along, sissy,” Chloe giggled, waving her manicured hand in a dismissive gesture. “Can’t wait until next time.”

Julia didn’t look back. She turned and walked away from the crowded table, her mind racing with terror. She had just a few hours left to design a humiliation that would satisfy the monster. The principal’s final warning echoed in her head, reminding her that whatever she chose to do next could mean the permanent end of her high school career.

❖

Hiding at the back of the laboratory was the only strategy that made sense. Julia kept her head down, pretending to focus on the chemical equations written on the whiteboard while the rest of the class worked on their afternoon assignments. She just wanted to survive the period without drawing any more attention to her humiliating predicament. The wooden door to the corridor clicked open, breaking the quiet murmur of the classroom. An administrator stepped into the room, carrying a yellow clipboard. The woman walked directly to the front desk and leaned in to whisper something to the teacher.

Mr. Harrison nodded and looked across the rows of occupied desks. He locked eyes with the trans woman sitting in the back corner.

“Julia, you have a visitor,” the teacher announced.

A knot of dread formed in the pit of her stomach. She corrected the teacher on her name, eliciting chuckles from the students in the room. She gathered her notebook and stood up, ignoring the snickers from the junior boys sitting in the next row. The blonde followed the administrator out into the empty hallway, knowing for sure her bully must have had something to do with this.

“A college interviewer from Brown University is here and wants to speak with you,” the administrator said, not looking back as she walked briskly down the corridor.

Julia gasped. Brown was her number one choice. She had spent the last two years perfecting her application, maintaining a flawless grade point average, and dreaming of moving to Providence. This couldn’t be happening to her right now. She frantically searched her mind for a valid excuse to delay the meeting, but she didn’t have time to form a thought. The administrator stopped at an empty classroom, opened the wooden door, and ushered her inside.

A middle-aged man in a gray suit sat behind a small folding table. He held a copy of her academic transcript in his hands. He looked up, and the polite, professional smile on his face vanished instantly. The man took in the sight of her revealing uniform, the mass of platinum blonde hair, and the unmistakable bimbo makeup etched onto her skin.

“You must be, umm, Julia?” the man said, his voice laced with clear skepticism. “I am Mr. Paul. I am the regional alumni interviewer for the university.”

Julia wanted to make a good first impression despite her disastrous appearance. She walked toward the table and stood tall, determined to project the confidence of the intelligent student she was.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Paul,” she began, using her natural, measured cadence.

A sharp electrical sting bit into her neck before she could finish the sentence. The collar punished her for dropping the mandated pitch. She gasped and grabbed the edge of the folding table, fighting back tears as the burning sensation faded into a dull throb. The device served as a cruel reminder of her limitations. She could still say whatever she wanted, but she had to play the vocal part Enzo assigned her.

“Are you alright, miss?” the interviewer asked, furrowing his brow.

“Like, I am super fine,” Julia squeaked, forcing her voice into a breathy, high-pitched register to appease the leather strap. “Thank you so much for, like, taking the time to see me today.”

The man stared at her. He looked down at the impressive transcript resting on the table, then looked back up at the hyper-feminine student standing before him.

“Please, have a seat,” the man offered, gesturing toward the plastic chair across from him.

Julia walked around the table and sat down. She tried to cross her legs modestly, but the pleated plaid miniskirt rode far up her thighs. She adjusted herself in the plastic seat, pulling the fabric down, but sitting modestly was impossible. She knew she looked like a prostitute rather than a prospective Ivy League student.

“Your record is quite impressive, Miss Lopez,” Mr. Paul began, pulling a pen from his suit pocket. “However, I must admit, your appearance today is not what I expected. Brown values students who represent the institution with dignity and professionalism.”

Julia felt a desperate need to explain herself. She needed to explain herself while complying with the dumb rules embedded in that damn choker.

“Like, this is just a big joke,” the trans woman whimpered, keeping the ditzy dialect active to avoid another shock. “I promise I am, um, super serious about my education. I just had to wear this outfit today for a dare.”

Mr. Paul did not look convinced. He jotted a quick note on his clipboard and cleared his throat. “And your voice? Is this how you always come across? It’s not exactly what I would call Brown-esque,” he asked.

“Like, I have a super bad sore throat,” Julia squealed, forcing a brainless giggle to mask the sheer panic rising in her chest. “My doctor told me to speak like this so I do not hurt my vocal cords.”

Mr. Paul set his pen down on the folding table and intertwined his fingers. He clearly didn’t believe the young woman.

“Let us talk about your admissions essay,” the interviewer said, shifting the topic to test her intellect. “You wrote a very passionate piece on the intersection of progressive feminist theory and modern economics. Can you elaborate on the core thesis you presented in that paper?”

Julia’s heart sank. She had written an impassioned piece, but she knew that everything she said in that essay would be undermined if she argued her points in this state.

“So, like, basically, the way wealth is distributed is, um, really unfair to marginalized groups,” Julia whimpered, batting her thick eyelashes as she tried to recall her opening paragraph. “And, like, institutional bias just makes it super hard for people to, you know, get ahead in the market.”

The nuanced economic concepts sounded pathetic when reduced to vapid teenage gossip. She hated listening to her own voice ruin her hard work.

“Can you provide a specific historical example to support that claim?” Mr. Paul challenged, his tone growing much colder.

“Like, yeah, for sure,” she breathed, fighting the urge to drop her pitch as she explained redlining. “In the twentieth century, the banks were, like, super mean and stopped minority communities from buying houses. So they couldn’t build any wealth, which is a huge bummer.”

Mr. Paul picked up his clipboard and slid her transcript back into his leather briefcase. He stood up from the chair and buttoned his suit jacket.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” the interviewer stated firmly. “Brown University is looking for dedicated, progressive minds. We are not interested in students who mock the admissions process and think this is an appropriate prank. This interview is over. Good luck with your future endeavors, Miss Lopez.”

As the man walked out of the classroom, Julia allowed herself a soft sob. That bastard had orchestrated this. She didn’t know how, but he had known the alumnus was coming, and he had made sure Julia looked like this bimbo bitch when the man asked to speak to her. He had sabotaged her chance at getting into her first-choice college.

She pushed herself up from the chair and walked out into the corridor. She needed a moment to breathe. She rounded the corner near the history wing and halted in the middle of the hallway.

Kara stood by a row of metal lockers. Her ex-girlfriend held her smartphone, staring blankly at the screen. Kara looked up when she heard the clicking of the tall stilettos hitting the floor. The anger in her eyes was unmistakable.

“Kara, please wait,” Julia pleaded.

She forgot the rule in her panic. She spoke with her normal, desperate tone, and the collar delivered a subtle shock right to her throat. She gasped, grabbing her neck as the pain flared.

“Do not speak to me, slut,” Kara snapped coldly, closing the distance between them. “I saw the picture Tyrone posted this morning. And I read the texts you sent me last night. I thought your phone was hacked. I didn’t know what to do. But then I see you walking around the school dressed like a cheap whore again.”

“Like, you don’t understand,” Julia whimpered, adopting the required high-pitched squeal to protect herself from another burn. “I didn’t send those messages. I’m, like, in a lot of trouble.”

Kara let out a bitter, humorless laugh. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking the trans woman up and down with sheer contempt.

“Trouble?” Kara challenged. “What the fuck is up with that voice you’re putting on? No one is making you do that. I walked into the cafeteria and saw you bounce on Enzo’s lap like one of those dumb cheerleader sluts. You threw away your valedictorian status on the intercom. You did all of that yourself.”

Julia wanted to scream. She had an answer for all of this, but every response pointed to the blackmail, and that was something she couldn’t let slip.

“Like, you don’t understand,” she squeaked, fresh tears welling in her eyes without smudging the permanent cosmetic ink etched into her skin. “I’ll, like, totally try to explain.”

“Forget it,” Kara spat back. “I defended you to everyone, but you’ve lost your mind. You’re mocking women with your performance, and I don’t want to be around your toxic ass anymore.”

Julia reached out a hand, desperate to comfort her. Kara slapped the hand away.

“We are done,” Kara said with finality. “Do not call me. Do not text me. You’re a joke of a woman, and I never want to see you again.”

Kara turned around and walked away, disappearing down the long corridor. Julia stood alone by the lockers, the silence of the hallway pressing in on her. She had lost her college dreams and the love of her life within a single hour. She was running out of things to lose, leaving her with only one terrifying option to satisfy the transphobic bully before the final bell rang.

❖

Retreating into the empty girls’ locker room was the only way Julia could survive the rest of the hour. The sports classes were outside on the football field, leaving the long rows of metal cabinets deserted. The blonde pushed through the swinging double doors and collapsed onto a cold bench. She reached down, unbuckling the ankle straps of her heels, and slipped the shoes off her aching feet. The cheap material of the skirt scratched against her skin as she pulled her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her legs and let the quiet isolation wash over her.

Tears spilled over her cheeks, running down her face without ruining a single drop of the semi-permanent cosmetic ink. She didn’t know what to do. The brutal confrontation with Kara played on a continuous loop in her mind. The girl she loved despised her, convinced she was just a toxic slut acting like a slutty pick-me girl for the boys. She couldn’t even defend herself without the collar around her neck shocking her throat into submission.

She stared at the blank tiles on the wall, processing the sacrifice she had made just a few hours ago. Giving up her spot in the valedictorian race was a monumental deal. She had spent years studying late into the night, sacrificing weekends and parties to secure the top grades in her class. That dedication was her entire identity. Throwing all of that hard work away in front of the whole school was the hardest thing she had ever done. She honestly thought surrendering her pride and her future would be enough to pay for her freedom.

But Enzo was just a thug. The bully didn’t care about her grades, test scores, or college credits. He wanted to see her ruined on a base, primitive level. He wanted an event. He wanted to prove she was just a cheap whore for the school to use.

Julia lowered her legs and stood up from the bench. She walked over to the row of sinks on the opposite wall. The mirrors above the basins reflected a stranger. She looked at the platinum blonde hair, the slutty ensemble, and the bright pink lipstick over her overly inflated lips. The driven, intelligent student was gone. Only the bimbo remained.

Can I really do this? She thought to herself. This would ruin my life forever, but at least my friends would be safe.

She gripped the edges of the sink, looking deep into her own eyes. She had no other options left on the table. If she backed down now, Enzo would send the cheating evidence to the principal. Everyone she had helped would be expelled immediately. Their futures would be destroyed, and her reputation would still be in tatters.

She let go of the sink and walked back to the lockers. Her purse sat on the bench where she left it. She pulled her phone from inside and stared at the dark screen. The threat Enzo issued in the cafeteria echoed in her ears. He gave her until the final bell to deliver an event everyone would remember. She needed to do this.

She unlocked the phone and brought up her messaging application, staring at the empty interface while her mind raced with the terrible implications of her plan. If she went through with this idea, there would be no going back, and the student body would forever look at her as nothing more than a punchline. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and tapped the icon to create a new group chat, determined to see this nightmare through to the very end to ensure the others were protected from the scandal.

Instead of selecting a handful of people, Julia started scrolling through her directory and tapped the name of every single male student saved in her phone. She added the athletes who were amused by her changes, the boys from her morning classes, and guys she barely even interacted with during the semester. She watched the recipient counter climb higher and higher, forcing herself to include everyone she could find to ensure the audience was massive enough to satisfy her blackmailer. Her thumb moved with steady purpose, selecting the names while the fear inside her chest morphed into a hollow acceptance of her fate. She knew a bully like him only respected the worst public degradation, and she was prepared to give him an event that would fulfill his demands without leaving any room for him to fail her.

Once the group was fully populated, she shifted her focus to the blank text box at the bottom of the interface. She needed to write something provocative enough to guarantee they would actually show up, typing out a highly suggestive invitation to meet her in the middle of the gymnasium at 3 PM. She read the humiliating words over a few times, feeling a fresh wave of nausea roll through her stomach as she realized what she was about to do. She stared at the send icon on her screen, acknowledging that tapping the glass would finalize her transition into the campus whore, but she pushed the button anyway and watched the message go out. There was no turning back now.

❖

Standing in the center of the gymnasium was a test of endurance. The large digital clock on the wall ticked closer to three in the afternoon, signaling the end of the school day. Julia stood alone on the polished floorboards, her heart pounding as she stared at the doors across the room. The silence in the cavernous room stretched out, leaving her to wonder if anyone was actually going to show up.

The metal handles on the doors rattled before pulling open. A group of five seniors from the football team walked into the gym, pausing near the bleachers to look around. Tyler, the starting quarterback, led the pack with a suspicious grin on his face. He scanned the corners of the room, expecting a prank or a setup, before his eyes locked onto the blonde standing alone in the center circle.

“So what’s the joke, Barbie?” the quarterback asked, taking a few cautious steps forward with his friends trailing behind him. “Everyone is talking about that text.”

Julia forced her painted lips into a wide smile, pushing down the terror threatening to consume her mind. She knew she had to convince them to participate, or the whole thing would fall apart.

“Like, there is no joke,” Julia squealed, talking like the dumb, brainless slut she looked like. “I just need you boys to fuck me hard before you go home today. Deal?”

The boys stood frozen in disbelief, exchanging uncertain glances as they processed her blunt invitation. They didn’t expect a direct proposition from the former star student, lingering near the bleachers in a state of awkward hesitation as they tried to figure out if they were walking into a trap.

Julia tottered closer toward them, swaying her hips to sell the hyper-feminine act as she approached the group of athletes. She reached out, grabbing Tyler by the hand to lead the quarterback over to the bench sitting beside the blue wrestling mats, pushing on his shoulders to sit him down on the plastic surface before dropping onto her knees in front of his spread legs.

She reached for the zipper on his denim jeans, pulling it down to expose his throbbing erection to the open air, leaning forward to wrap her glossy lips around the head of his dick. She took him deep into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the sensitive skin to shatter the awkward tension in the room. Tyler groaned, reaching down to weave his fingers through her blonde hair, holding her head in place to guide her mouth down the shaft until his hips bumped against her nose.

“She’s actually doing it,” one of the other seniors laughed, stepping closer to watch the explicit scene unfold in front of him. “She’s sucking him off in front of us. What a tranny slut.”

“Shut it,” Tyler reprimanded his friend, gripping Julia’s hair tightly to push her further down on his cock. “Suck it, bitch.”

Julia kept her focus on the task at hand, bobbing her head to take the thick length down her throat while the surrounding seniors cheered their friend on. Tyler groaned loud enough to echo across the empty room, thrusting his hips forward to drive his erection deep past her lips, forcing her to take every inch of him. She swallowed the discomfort to keep the event moving forward, wrapping her tongue around the shaft as she worked him closer to the edge of his climax.

The metal doors at the entrance pulled open again, allowing a flood of older students to pour into the gymnasium. Word had spread through the senior class, prompting dozens of young men to rush the physical education building to take advantage of the suggestive invitation she had sent them. They crowded around the wrestling mats to watch the school bimbo service the quarterback, shouting crude insults and unzipping their own jeans to prepare for their turn.

“My turn to use the slut,” a tall athlete named Derek announced, stepping forward to grab Julia by the shoulders.

Tyler pulled his cock out of her mouth, leaving her gasping for air as Derek shoved her down onto the padding. She landed hard on her hands and knees, feeling the fabric of her skirt ride up her thighs to expose her bare ass to the growing crowd. Derek dropped his pants to his ankles, gripping her hips to line his hard dick up with her tight anal entrance.

“Like, please be gentle,” Julia squeaked, ensuring her voice maintained the breathy valley-girl pitch.

“Nobody is going to be gentle with a whore like you,” Derek sneered, driving his rigid length deep inside her ass with one brutal thrust.

“Ghhh, ahhh-mmphh,” Julia cried out, but her moan was silenced by another student thrusting his thick cock down the blonde’s throat.

The student standing in front of her grabbed the back of her head, locking his fingers into her hair to hold her steady while Derek pounded her from behind. The dual penetration overwhelmed her, stretching her body in opposite directions as the two seniors established a punishing pace on the blue mat. She kept her palms planted flat against the plastic surface to maintain her balance under the rough treatment, letting her bimbo persona absorb the pain to ensure Enzo got the exact event he demanded.

She tried not to vomit as she thought about what she was doing. She was a lesbian. She had never thought about a man touching her like this before, let alone penetrating her orifices. Yet, she felt her small girlcock stir as the man behind her massaged her g-spot with his member.

Another man took one of her hands and directed her to his cock, guiding her to stroke it as she was used in both entrances. “Mmphhh,” was all she could muffle as she tasted the odor of the man fucking her mouth.

The student thrusting into her face pulled back suddenly, stroking his length before painting her cheeks with strings of cum. The fluid splattered across her permanent makeup, dripping down her chin as another senior took his place. He grabbed her sticky face and shoved his raw dick between her lips, forcing her to swallow the mess left behind by his friend. Derek groaned and pulled out, leaving her gaping hole exposed to the gymnasium air for only a second before a new athlete stepped up to drive his erection inside her.

The crowd of boys formed an endless line around the wrestling mats, unzipping their pants and waiting for their turn to use the school bimbo. Julia kept her hand wrapped around the shaft of the boy standing beside her, pumping his meat up and down while her mouth and ass accommodated the relentless pounding. She let her mind detach from the physical pain, focusing on the fact that this horrifying event guaranteed everyone she had helped would never be expelled. Enzo wanted a public display of her degradation, and she was delivering a gangbang involving dozens of senior boys. There was no bigger sacrifice than this.

“Take it all, sissy whore,” a boy sneered, slapping her bare ass with an open palm as he drove his hips forward.

“Glcck, mmph,” she choked, bobbing her head to service the guy in front of her.

As soon as one guy finished unloading inside her body or across her face, another student seamlessly took his spot. The boys showed no mercy, pulling her hair to control the depth of their thrusts and calling her every vile name they could invent. She took it all without complaint, detaching herself in the moment and accepting her role as a disposable set of holes for the boys to use. Her thighs trembled under the strain of holding herself up, but she forced her free arm to stay locked straight against the plastic mat.

A boy stepped back from her mouth and shot his load across her chest, covering the fabric of her tied blouse. Another guy grabbed her shoulders, pushing her flat onto her stomach to expose her back and her ass to the surrounding crowd. She squeezed her eyes shut as two boys stepped between her spread legs, one thrusting into her ass while another knelt down by her head to shove his dick into her mouth.

“Look at this tranny slut taking us all at once,” a voice cheered from the crowd.

“Mpphhh!” Julia squealed out as she was fucked in the most humiliating of ways.

She lay pinned against the mat, taking the hard thrusts as the seniors used her body. The boy at her head pumped his hips forward, sliding his thick member down her throat while the student behind her pounded her ass. She kept her mouth open, letting the cum and spit pool on the plastic surface beneath her face, making sure she played her part. The crowd cheered louder, throwing disgusting comments at her that her formerly feminist mind would have been horrified to hear. She felt another boy finish inside her ass, pulling out with a slap before a new senior stepped in to take his place, pushing his own erection into her abused hole. She gagged around the dick in her mouth, closing her eyes as the room dissolved into a chorus of grunts and mocking laughter.

A sudden, booming crash echoed through the gymnasium, silencing the cheering crowd in an instant. The double doors banged against the walls, flying open to reveal a tall figure blocking the entryway. Coach Miller stood in the doorway, staring at the pile of half-naked athletes surrounding the blonde bimbo on his wrestling mats.

“What the hell is going on in here?” the physical education instructor shouted, his deep voice carrying across the silent room.

The boys panicked, pulling their cocks out of her orifices and scrambling to pull their jeans up before scattering across the room, running toward the various exits to escape the furious adult. Julia collapsed flat against the padding, left exposed and covered in cum on the mat as she waited for her punishment. Expulsion was a certainty. Her high school career was over.

❖

Following the physical education instructor down the quiet corridor felt like the end of her student life. Julia dragged a white towel across her skin, wiping the sticky layers of semen off her face as she struggled to keep up with his brisk pace. The makeup stayed intact under the mess, forcing her to wear the slutty cosmetic mask while she contemplated how this meeting was going to go. She knew expulsion was the only logical outcome, expecting the furious man to march her straight into the administration wing and hand her over to the principal after catching her taking part in a gangbang just hours after the administrator gave her a final warning.

The older man didn’t take her out of the sports wing, however, taking a sharp turn down a hallway leading to his office. Coach Miller walked through the doorway, stopping beside his desk to wait for her to step inside the room before he pushed the door shut. A loud click echoed through the small space as he turned the lock, twisting the deadbolt into place to ensure nobody could interrupt them. He reached for the cord hanging beside the window, pulling it down to close the plastic blinds and isolate them from the outside world.

Miller walked around his desk and sat down in his rolling chair, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. He stared at the student’s stained uniform, taking in the sight of her bare legs and white marks covering her top.

“Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you are in right now, Miss Lopez?” the instructor demanded.

Julia kept her eyes focused on the floor tiles, clutching the dirty towel against her stomach as she formulated the only response she could give.

“Like, I know I broke the rules,” the blonde squealed. “I’ll totally accept whatever punishment you give me.”

Coach Miller leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against his armrest as he watched her squirm. Suddenly, a perverted smirk crossed the man’s lips as he stared the former honor student up and down.

“You’ll accept any punishment, eh?” he asked, although the inflection in his question worried the young blonde. “I wonder what punishment would be suitable right now.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the surface of his desk as his expression shifted to something far more predatory.

“Take off your clothes, Barbie,” the older man ordered. “That is what you prefer to be called, after all.”

Julia froze in place, her heart racing as she processed his blunt command. She looked up at the authority figure, expecting to see him laugh at his cruel joke, but his gaze was locked directly on her chest. She searched her mind for a way out of the situation, realizing with sickening clarity what he was asking for.

“T-take off my clothes?” she stuttered. “Like, all of them?”

“Every piece,” Miller stated, his tone leaving no room for argument or negotiation. “If you want to stay enrolled at this school, you are going to show me exactly what kind of whore you are.”

She reached up with trembling fingers, struggling to untie the messy knot holding her stained blouse together. Her mind screamed at her to stop, begging her to run out the door and accept the expulsion, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The fabric finally parted, exposing her bare chest to the perverted older man. She let the garment slip off her shoulders, dropping it onto the floor beside her shoes while she kept her eyes glued to the tiles. She stood before him in just her pleated skirt, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze.

Miller didn’t say a word, keeping his eyes fixed on her body as she moved her hands down to the waistband of her skirt. She unbuttoned the side, letting the material slide down her hips and pool around her ankles in a heap of fabric. She stepped out of the mess, standing in front of his desk wearing nothing but her stripper heels and the leather collar fastened around her throat.

“Good girl,” he said as he studied the young trans woman’s body. “Jeez, those lips look like a permanent invitation.” Suddenly, his eyes drifted lower and rested on the student’s flaccid penis, licking his lips at the sight.

“If you want me to keep my mouth shut about what happened here today, we’re going to have to enter into a little arrangement,” the coach stated, reaching out as his thumb rubbed against her jawline, his gaze dragging over her body. “I have a thing for sissies, and you are the hottest fucking sissy I’ve ever seen. Now, from now on, you will come to this office whenever I tell you to, and you will let me use you however I want. You’re my personal whore now. Do you understand, Barbie?”

Julia stood frozen under his touch, her stomach churning as the older man stroked her face. She orchestrated the explicit event to escape Enzo, sacrificing her body to earn her freedom and protect her friends from the cheating evidence. She thought the nightmare was over, and she was ready to face expulsion. Instead, she found herself standing naked in front of a faculty member, blackmailed all over again. The irony of her situation made her want to vomit. She had given up her valedictorian spot, destroyed her relationship with Kara, and surrendered her dignity to a crowd of young men just to end up right here.

“Like, yes sir,” Julia squealed, the breathy dialect mocking the despair tearing her apart inside. “I understand what you want.”

“Good,” Coach Miller grunted, stepping closer to crowd her space. He let his hand drop from her jawline, trailing his fingers down her neck to trace the edges of the leather collar. “Because if you refuse my demands, I’ll make sure CCTV of that incident in the gym is posted all over the internet by morning. You’ll be a star, and I’ll be rich. You are going to be a good sissy slut for me, aren’t you?”

Julia swallowed the lump forming in her throat, knowing she had no options left on the table. She had to swallow her pride and submit to the older man.

“Like, I will be a good slut for you,” she whimpered.

The coach grabbed the back of her head, weaving his fingers through her hair to force her down onto her knees. Julia landed on the floor as she adjusted her posture. She looked up at his crotch as he stood over her naked form, his imposing figure dominating the small office. He pushed his hips forward, bumping the rough fabric of his denim jeans against her permanent pink lipstick.

“Start proving it, whore,” the man ordered, unbuckling his belt and letting the metal clasp clink against his pants. “You already serviced half the football team today. Now you get to service their coach. Open your mouth and suck my dick.”

Julia opened her mouth, her mind shutting down as she accepted her dark reality. She reached forward with shaking hands, grabbing the zipper on his pants and pulling it down to expose his erection. She wrapped her fat lips around the head of his cock, swirling her tongue over the sensitive skin to appease the man.

She bobbed her head, taking the thick length down her throat as the physical education instructor groaned above her, cementing her place as the school whore. Julia was certain that Enzo would pass her big project, but suddenly, as she sucked the coach’s cock, what she had lost in the process didn’t feel worth it anymore.

End of Chapter Four.