They immobilize me.

My panic erupted completely when I saw one of the officers pull thick leather straps out of a supply closet. The raw reality of what was about to happen brought back a desperate, primal strength within me.

“No! Let me go! Please!” I screamed with all my might, trying to wriggle free from their grips while my feet, trapped in stiletto heels, slipped clumsily on the cold cement.

In the middle of the struggle, as two of the officers lifted me bodily to crush my resistance, my glasses flew off my face, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Suddenly, the world became a blurry, hazy smudge of siren lights and menacing shadows. They forcibly pinned me down on the gray metal surface, and I felt the rough, ruthless yank of the straps tightening firmly around my ankles and my wrists—which were already joined by the handcuffs. They stretched my limbs to the limit, securing them to the table’s tie-downs until my body was left fully arched, tense, and vulnerable.

“HELP!” My desperate screams bounced off the cold concrete walls, but all I received in return were mocking laughs that deepened my helplessness.

“Scream all you want, Lola. Nobody’s going to hear you down here,” Officer Ramirez whispered, leaning over me.

Suddenly, I felt something shoved roughly onto my face. It was my glasses. One of the officers had picked them up from the floor and carefully adjusted them over the bridge of my nose.

“Much better,” he murmured, staring at me with obvious lust behind the lenses. “With your glasses on, you look like the perfect student in a forbidden movie. Besides, I want you to see everything we’re going to do to you very clearly. I don’t want you to miss a single detail of your evaluation.”

Sick of my screaming and begging, the officer searching the closet took a dark cloth handkerchief from the supplies and wadded it up. They forced my mouth open under pressure, shoving it deep inside to muffle my voice. Right after, they sealed my lips firmly with a strip of industrial duct tape. My cries for help were cut off instantly, turned into muffled, useless moans that died behind the gag.

Now, with my vision fully restored thanks to my glasses, I was forced to look straight ahead as the five men crowded around the metal table. Their eyes were fixed, almost in a state of morbid hypnosis, on my large breasts, which rose and fell frantically due to my ragged breathing and crying.

“Look at the size of these...” Miller said, dragging his heavy, rough hand over my exposed bust. “It’s incredible that the university kept a pair like this hidden under those baggy hoodies. They’re definitely the main attraction of this ‘gift.’”

They began touching me without the slightest restraint, squeezing and tracing my fair skin with an obsession that made me feel nauseous and deeply humiliated. I felt their cold, rough fingers over my nipples, hardened by the basement chill, while another officer positioned himself firmly between my open legs, bound by the straps. Despite the hatred, the terror, and the total lack of consent, my own body—subjected to rough, constant, mechanical stimulation by hands that knew exactly where to press to break my resistance—reacted in a purely physiological and involuntary way.

I felt a violent electric jolt run from one end of my spine to the other. My hips arched uncontrollably against the leather restraints, and a sharp spasm shook my thighs. Behind the gag and through my glasses, my eyes went wide with shock as my body reached an involuntary climax born strictly from traumatic tension, fear, and physical pressure.

“Well, well...” Ramirez said with a triumphant, ruthless smirk as he watched my legs tremble against the table. “Look at her. She says she doesn’t want to be here, but her own body is delivering a different verdict. Looks like the ‘perfect student’ is responding very well to her punishment.”

“She’s a hypocrite,” another officer spat, unbuckling his belt with a metallic click. “She plays the victim, but the physical evidence doesn’t lie. We’ve played around with foreplay enough. Now we’re moving on to the part we’ve all been waiting for.”

I shook my head in desperation against the table, trying to scream behind the duct tape that it was an involuntary biological response beyond my control. But my own unavoidable physical reaction had granted them the “permission” their minds were seeking to complete my total destruction in that lawless corner.