All summer long Millie had had this recurring dream of being watched.

That was it, really, that was the whole dream. All she remembered of it. No place, no circumstance, no plot: no one was even doing the watching. It was a fact of nature, like a climate: everywhere, total, motiveless and unyielding. There was nowhere to hide and nothing for her to hide. It was worse than suffocating, she couldn’t find her breath. A person had breath; in her dream Millie was so much less than that,— an incident, a node of attention. Something the network had activated to give it something to surveil.

When Miss Sarah led her back to the party, when she was under all those eyes, that dream sensation had come rushing back. Half-naked, halted in the middle of the room as if for inspection, unable to move or to want to: like prey frozen in the gaze of a predator. A predator that was nothing but gaze. She found herself kneeling without knowing how or why she had done it, bowed down in the focus of that compound eye as if crushed by a weight.

It made her wet, just like the dream always did.

Ultimately that was just stress about her BFA. She’d talked it all through with Jez. Millie was going for performance and she had these ideas about spectatorship and surveillance, being seen as an experience in the body, but they were mostly gestural—in fact she met Jez because he had a theory group that was relevant, one of her profs mentioned it, and she needed some kind of framework to make things cohere. The group wasn’t a fit, but right away Jez appointed himself her informal thesis advisor, which was hugely flattering to her and also a huge turn-on. He’d been a big help pushing her in a more political direction. It wasn’t his fault she couldn’t organize her own thinking. He never got frustrated with her, just kept on trying different angles to strike sparks from. But it did sometimes feel to Millie like she was constantly chasing some new apparition just over the horizon, while the project as a whole kept going further and further adrift.

Tonight though, in with his whole crowd,— tonight she felt different. The year was still young. There was intellect galore. Tonight’s energy was all about breaking through, putting the pieces together. As soon as she’d been liberated from drink service Millie went right over, didn’t even change out of her outfit, and parked herself kneeling in front of the couch, smack in the middle of things. It was bold of her, but she didn’t care. She could go wherever, she was the hit of the party, just like Miss Sarah said. And if she hardly put in a word, the talk itself entranced Millie: how fluidly it moved among the moving groups of people, how its shape and its colors kept shifting, it was a presence to her, a restless sleek animal pacing the outskirts, taking her scent.

Then came the quizzing. People started showing up on the couch to demand—always very politely—an account of her thesis. A small succession of them. That was Jez’s doing, she was sure, trying to draw her out. It never got very far though. She could start well enough: under a regime of total surveillance, what happens to the body? what happens to nakedness? is a self even possible? She had plenty of questions, thanks to Jez’s help, but questions were all she had, and they never stopped chasing each other. Not to mention she was talking about nakedness while she had her tits out in a maid costume, and the longer that went on the more flustered she got. Which started her babbling about her dumb nightmare, and how much it haunted her, and how confused and horny she was all the time now, like right now: and that was it for her thesis. And then she couldn’t say anything about anything because it took all of her focus to just not masturbate in front of the nice people.

There’d been a cute older couple. Super sympathetic. She thought the man was a professor; he had this elaborate way of talking, like when he said “unencumbered by costume”: he meant that he wanted Millie to get naked, but she couldn’t work out the sense of the phrase to save her life. His wife finally took pity and slipped off the couch and started unzipping her, was how she finally got it. They were cute. Millie thought about her and Jez being like that someday. She made out with the woman a little bit, as a thank-you, and let herself get felt up, and it was nice, it reminded her she was here for a party and not just to fail at explaining her work. Randy old broad chafed her nipples something fierce, but Millie was just flattered to know she’d liked her cans.

Getting naked didn’t help her brain work any better though. And after awhile the talk moved elsewhere, and even the couch people went away. And nothing had changed for her. Millie was a dull small purposeless blob on the floor, unnoticed, sinking into it. She felt her hand sneak in between her legs and she let it, just for the company. Not that they’d even care she thought, glancing at the empty couch.

Katy and Jez were on the couch. Millie’s heart leapt painfully. You guys, she wanted to shout, where have you even been? But she was kneeling, and she’d been training herself lately that when she was on her knees to Jez she couldn’t speak without his permission. Part of that weird-but-harmless little antifeminist thing she’d been exploring around her thesis. Not to mention he was so handsome to her from down there, the cat would have got her tongue anyway.

Jez was hunting around in his pockets for his vape. Katy, one long arm stretched along the back of the couch in his direction, playing her fingers in the hair above his neck, reached with the other for a martini glass someone was holding out. She was wearing that lofty, ironic expression of hers, and Millie had never seen a woman she thought of calling delicious before, but Katy was delicious. Katy would do every bit as well as Jez to kneel to. When Katy’s gaze lit on Millie the remnant of hypnoslut roleplay in her made her straighten her back and spread her knees wider apart.

“I think I heard the word ‘surveillance’ over here one or two times,” Katy said. She said it at Millie but she was talking to Jez, who snickered. “One or two dozen,” he scoffed. Having found the vape he took a quick toke before gesturing it in Katy’s direction. When she waved him off he moved to stash the pen away again, then thought better of it. He leaned down and put the business end to Millie’s lips and pressed the button.

He left it go long enough that Millie was coughing and already very stoned by the time it withdrew. But she’d inhale as long as he wanted her to, or at least try. That was another bit of antifeminist training. It was a harder game for her than some of the others, and not her own idea: pot scared Millie still, especially the kind of freaky brain juice shit Jez favored. One day he just started forcing the vape on her, not a word of by-your-leave, and she just let him. If he asked she’d have told him no, and she’d have missed this ongoing lesson in how hot it was not being given a say.

That was the single best thing Jez ever told her about her thesis: to really understand your subject, he said, you’ll have to lose your no.

It didn’t hurt in the least that delicious Katy was watching. When their eyes caught she smiled a thin, sardonic smile, no more than a slight turning-up at the corners of the mouth, a smile so cruel-looking it made Millie’s pussy weep. She took a slow, somehow patronizing sip from her drink, all the while scrutinizing the girl’s nakedness. Millie, flying, could scarcely believe what a lezzie vibe the pot was giving. She had a crazy urge to kiss Katy’s feet. Light glinted at her off the martini glass, and it took Millie with it into a brief, intense daydream of Katy putting the drink down and bending forward and grabbing her by the hair, hard, and shoving her tongue down her throat.

Jez had started going on again about theory. In that same moment Millie knew she was done with it, all that intellectual shit: it was wearisome, she was hopeless at it, better to just admit defeat. “You want to scramble somebody’s otherwise serviceable brains,” he was saying, “feed em on the post-structuralists.” There was a hardness in his tone Millie winced at. “Performance major to boot,” his voice heavy with sarcasm, “like watching a cat try to teach itself algebra.” Nothing she hadn’t heard before, and of course Jez was right. Jez was always right. But she’d tried, really and truly she had. It wasn’t her fault she was stupid. Millie felt a tug of hurt that threatened to swamp the fizzy, sexy mood she’d been in.

Katy looked sternly at Jez. “Well I think it’s cute,” she said, giving Millie a conspiratorial wink. “I think little dollies ought to be encouraged to read whatever they can manage to. Don’t you, Millie dollie?”

The wink put Millie at a complete loss for words. She opened her mouth but all she could manage to do was stare. Katy shook her head and set her glass on the side table. She reached a hand out, as languid as all her gestures, and pressed the tip of her forefinger into the crook of Millie’s nose. Millie’s eyes went crossed trying to track it. “Yes Katy, you’re so right,” she ventriloquized, pushing the girl’s head in an up and down nod, “that’s exactly what I think, Katy.”

The condescension was breathtaking, literally. Millie was past humiliated. By rights she ought to want to bite that finger clean off, but all she could do was smile dizzily and repeat “Yes Katy you’re so right that’s exactly what I think Katy” because of course she did think it, whatever it was, even if all the nodding was making her lose track. It was Katy’s thought, that’s all that mattered. She’d think it better anyway. When she laughed and took her finger back Millie’s empty head kept right on bobbing, like the agreeablest dollie ever.

Katy looked back over her shoulder. The mass of partygoers seemed to have formed up around the couch area now, and Millie saw Miss Sarah coming through them. Hey cutie! how’d I misplace you, Millie thought. Of all people. Now it was Sarah on the leash, and she looked different, imposing somehow. Taller. She was wearing a heavy, evil-looking studded dog collar, her pink hair all slicked back and her face completely empty and somehow the fiercer for it. She moved with a sort of smooth, focused self-forgetfulness, like a real-life version of the fembot Millie was just pretending to be when they played drink sluts.

They brought the senior girl to the edge of the sort of cleared-out space in front of the couch—like a stage, almost—where only Millie had remained. Sarah had on high black spike-heeled boots, skintight over the knee, and under a painfully tight harness of leather straps was otherwise naked. But the cute shaved twat was out of sight, a shiny, realistic neon-pink cock affixed over it, bigger almost than Sarah was. It bobbed and swung in front of her as she moved and was the only part of the girl that seemed to have an independent will. Millie watched the highlights gleam and shift around its thick molded veins.

It hadn't occurred to Millie before they'd want Miss Sarah to fuck her. It made sense though.

“Hey! Drooly.” Katy snapped her fingers. Millie’s mouth was still hanging open, and Katy, smirking, pushed up under her chin to close it. “We getting curious? Little thought-thought percolating in the ole noddle?” She knocked lightly on the top of Millie’s head a couple times.

Katy exchanged a look with Jez, of her seeming to ask, and him to give permission. “Come on then,” she told Millie, gesturing with her hand, “kneel up straight. All the way. Shoulders back! Shove those tits out at me.”

There was a tube of lipstick in Katy’s hand. Millie glanced down and noticed how bad the professor-lady had messed with her titty makeup, and her nips tightened to think of Katy giving them attention. “We’re gonna play a game,” Katy said, leaning in, “a reading game.” She held the lipstick up for Millie to see. Millie couldn’t think what she meant. “Cuz you like to read, remember Mills? You were just telling us.”

Millie was barely able to remember to nod her head. “So what we’re going to do is, I’m going to write a word on your chest. No peeking till I’m done,” Katy said, wagging the tube of lipstick at her. “One teensy little word. And if you can read that word—and nobody. can help you” she added, pointing the tube admonishingly around at onlookers—“well then you know what? You win! And all those pesky questions you’ve been worrying about so will all be answered.”

Katy uncapped the lipstick. It was darker than Miss Sarah’s, and for a moment Millie was worried about her nipples matching, till she remembered they weren’t doing the nips. “I’ll even give you a clue,” Katy said brightly. “The clue is, it’s the title of your thesis. Remember to phrase your answer in the form of a question.”

Millie didn’t know the title of her thesis, but she wasn’t prepared to doubt that somehow Katy would. And Katy was really writing it. Millie felt like she was being accelerated. Her body started trembling even before the lipstick touched her, and once it did she struggled to keep hold of her breath. She fixed her gaze up to the ceiling like a good girl and tried to let the scent of Katy’s hair give her calm. But she was an abject mess of lust and painful anticipation.

There were so many people around now, behind the couch, away to the sides, probably even at Millie’s back. Way more it seemed like than when the party started. Someone said “C” in a loud voice after the first letter, and Katy glared hard in their direction and yelled “No kibitzing!” at them. Mills decided to forget it, since it wasn’t in the rules for her to know any letters yet.

“Finished,” Katy said at last, drawing back. Millie looked down at herself. The first thing she saw, despairingly, was that it looked like two words, one up between her boobs and then a longer one underneath them. She had a sharp feeling of no fair, not that she said anything. Plus the letters were all weird. There was an O and an H you could make out, maybe a backwards E? And whatever letter that guy shouted that she’d forgotten. But really it was just this little thicket of symbols, and it was so much pressure being on the spot to decipher them in front of everyone! Someone commenced with the game-show music and she got a little panicky. She started tracing over the letters with her fingers, thinking maybe that would get them into her head, but they were lipstick and the more Mills tried to force it the smearier and slipperier and more unreadable she got. She saw herself making a spectacle of herself literally greasing up her tits with the title of her thesis and she was too wasted and dumb and ashamed to even be able to stop.

Millie looked up when she realized she was hearing laughter. All the guests seemed to be laughing at her. Katy was laughing. “You precious dope” she said, showing Millie an open compact, “I was going to give you a mirror!”

Mills felt herself crumple. “I’m sorry Katy,” she wailed, “I’m so dumb, I’m not this dumb, really, I— I was trying so hard to…” and after that the apology dissolved into keening, Katy shooshing her and cupping her cheek. “It’s alright baby,” she cooed, wiping with her thumb under Millie’s eye, “it’s alright we like you dumb.” She glanced over at Sarah and with a motion of her head ordered the girl and her giant bobbing cock over.

There was some comedy with the thing prodding Millie in the spine and then trying to poke a hole in her ass cheek, but at last there was Miss Sarah kneeling behind her, her breath warm against Millie’s neck, her hard pink cock tucked neatly under Millie’s thighs. Sarah’s hands closed around her tits and the embrace seemed to right the world again. Millie sighed and settled back against her.

Not that she had forgotten her disappointment. “Did I lose the game?” she asked Katy, feeling still on the verge of tears. Katy chuckled. “How about it,” she looked around at the guests, “E for effort? Who thinks we oughta let the dope win anyway?”

The room broke out in applause. Mills felt like she was glowing. They like me dumb, she thought blissfully. Miss Sarah’s fingers pinched both of her nipples hard, as if she were trying to join the applause, and Millie squealed and writhed in her grasp.

With a glance Katy made her behave. She reached out to the side of the couch and let someone put another glass in her hand. Katy sipped. She set the glass down ceremonially, leaned fully forward and brushed Millie’s ear with her lips. In a stage whisper she said, “The correct question is, what is camwhore.”

Millie had been holding her breath and all at once it sighed out of her. WHAT IS CAMWHORE. It sounded like an oracle. She tried to see the word in her mind but the letters were smeary and cryptic and they wouldn’t stay still. She wanted to pronounce it, to know the shape it made on her tongue, but she was afraid of the word’s power. She was afraid that saying it would hurt her somehow. She looked for Jez but he wasn’t where he’d been sitting, and her gut clenched. Would Katy tell him? Or would it be up to Mills to?

He was standing behind the couch talking to people, fiddling with something in his hand that Millie couldn’t make out. He wasn’t even paying attention. Of course Jez knows, she thought. Stupid. Katy had literally written it on her. He’d seen it, they all had. Millie was the only dummy here who’d forgotten how to read.

One of the people in the knot around Jez Mills recognized as Professor Lady. She had her phone up facing Millie and was looking at the screen. There were a lot of phones up. Miss Sarah had started teasing the shaft of that big plastic cock of hers all up and down Mills’s slit, and by now she needed it inside her bad. She caught the lady’s eye and gave her a smile and a little wave and kind of danced her titties at her, as much as Miss Sarah’s grip on her allowed, to show how she remembered them making out a while back. So much fun! She closed her eyes and stretched her arms all sexy over her head for the lady, flirting her hands at the sky like she was Marilyn or Madonna.

A flash went off. A dozen flashes went off, and there was a loud pop that surprised Millie and made her squeak, the sound of a champagne bottle opening. She saw Jez pouring drinks for some people standing around him. Millie’s pussy was super wet for her strapon fuck now and she felt like it was time she ought to say something, ask Jez if it was OK if they could go somewhere that she could finally let Miss Sarah rail her. Not private exactly, just, maybe not in front of everyone? Like a VIP show. One brainwashed lezzie fucktoy getting raped by another;— Mills loved those kind of scenes. Him and Katy, have the nice professor couple too, they'd been so sweet to her. She was super down for it. A whole crowd of strangers though, it didn’t really sit right.

Jez handed a flute to Katy, who saluted him, then raised it aloft. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Society,” she announced, “I give you: CAMWHORE!”

More flashes popped. A few people clapped, and there was a general shout answering, “CAMWHORE!” Someone turned up dance music. She overheard Katy saying “Jeremy darling she’s everything, you’ve outdone yourself,” and for a moment Mills felt that familiar pride she always had in her clever boyfriend, whose mind was so much above hers. Whatever he’d done, it must be really something if it impressed a goddess like Katy.

Everywhere she turned her eyes now there were lenses, and every one of them on camwhore. Like a weightless but palpable netting fitted exactly to her skin. And she thought, this is the dream. It’s now. I’m in it. She wondered if what was happening to her was really real. Miss Sarah grabbed her face from behind and pulled her into an awkward, violent kiss that left her breathless and stunned. When she let go again camwhore giggled excitedly and turned back to her audience, and she wasn’t afraid anymore. She was happy. She was just where she was always meant to be. Camwhore opened her arms to the crowd and gave them a big showbiz hug. “I’m having the most sexiest dream,” she explained to them. She was weeping and couldn’t tell why. She started blowing kisses, sobbing and exclaiming “I’m a STAR” to all the cameras, but in the din of music and party talk and congratulations not even camwhore could tell what she was saying.

Miss Sarah grunted in camwhore’s ear and at the same time a blow landed across her shoulder blades that knocked her forward onto the floor. The slut’s cock was so big going in, and Millie’s ass so unprepared, it felt like the whole party ramrodding her at once. It was the greatest moment of her life. “I’m a STAR” camwhore gulped when she could breathe again, and then she was repeating it into the carpet, “i’m a STAR i’m a STAR” with each of Sarah’s deepening thrusts, over and over till someone kicked her in the side and told her to shut up.