The game begins

The first thing they saw as they walked in was how dimly lit the room was. It was almost pitch black after the relatively bright hallway, the kind of darkness that seemed theatrical and purposeful. The two women stopped just inside the threshold, the door swinging shut behind them with a soft click that sounded too loud. They could hear the sounds coming from the center of the room before their eyes adjusted: wet, rhythmic slapping, a woman’s high, shameless moans, the creak of cheap wood under shifting weight, and the low grunt of a man who wasn’t even trying to be quiet.

Elena reached around on the wall, fingers scraping painted cinderblock until they found the plastic plate. She flipped the switch.

Harsh overhead fluorescents stuttered on in two banks, washing the old reference section in ugly white light.

Both Nadia and Elena felt their jaws drop.

Mrs. Reed, Harper Reed, the math teacher who wore cardigans, gold-rimmed glasses and never raised her voice above a polite murmur was bent over at the waist across one of the long tables. Completely naked. Her usual neat chestnut bob was gone. The hair had been bleached a cheap, brassy blonde with uneven pink tips that stuck to her damp neck and shoulders. Hearts had been drawn around her eyes in smeared red marker or lipstick, the lines running a little from sweat. Her C-cup breasts hung heavy and swung with every thrust. Zack Hargrove stood behind her, jeans around his thighs, one hand locked on each of her hips, pounding into her like he was trying to drive her through the table. His smirk was lazy, almost bored, the expression of a guy who had seemed to be enjoying himself.

To her credit, Mrs. Reed seemed to be enjoying it way too much herself. She pushed back to meet him, ass jiggling, spine arched, moaning without a shred of the embarrassment a woman her age should have felt being caught like this on campus by the principal and a student’s mother.

Elena was the first to react. She took a sharp step forward, voice cracking across the room like a whip.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS? MRS REED? WITH A STUDENT? ON CAMPUS? AREN’T YOU ASHAMED OF YOURSELF??”

Mrs. Reed didn’t even flinch at the volume. She just lazily lifted her head, cheek still mashed against the tabletop, and looked at the two older women with glazed, unimpressed eyes.

“Like, shut the fuck up you hag,” she said in a bored, high, valley-girl drawl that didn’t belong in her mouth. “I’m Blissy and I’m getting blissfully fucked by my stud, so shut your bitch mouth.”

She turned her head back and gave Zack, who Nadia now realized was standing with a rope tied around his feet, a sloppy, open-mouthed smile. Then she dropped her cheek back to the table and kept moving, hips rolling to match Zack’s rhythm like she’d been born doing it.

Nadia’s stomach turned. The smell hit her all at once: sex, cheap body spray, sweat, and something sweeter underneath that made the headache behind her left eye throb a lot more stronger.

“Something is wrong here, Elena,” she said, voice low, cautious. “We should leave.”

“No, please! Mrs Moreno, Mrs Hayes!! Please don’t go.”

Zack’s voice called out to them. He didn’t stop thrusting. He just looked at them over Mrs. Reed’s back with wide, pleading eyes that didn’t match the way he kept slamming into the teacher.

“It’s the Mind Melter,” he said, breath hitching only slightly. “He’s making us do this!”

Mrs. Reed’s large breasts swung wildly underneath her with every impact. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of her was obscene in the sudden quiet between moans.

“The Mind Melter?” Elena started. “Who is–”

“I… I am.”

The voice came from the shadows at the far end of the stacks.

A figure stepped into the light.

He wore a cheap evil-clown mask, white plastic, smeared red grin, empty black eyeholes and a crumpled red king’s cape that hung off his shoulders like a thrift-store Halloween leftover. Otherwise he was completely naked. Average build, cock half-hard and glistening, bare feet on the carpet. What stopped Elena cold wasn’t the costume. It was who he was dragging behind him.

Rick.

Her son. Blindfolded with a strip of black cloth. Hands bound behind his back with what looked like a belt. He stumbled when the naked man yanked the makeshift leash.

“Rick!! What are you doing here? Baby, are you okay?” Elena’s voice broke on the last word. All the principal steel was gone. This was just a mother seeing her boy tied up.

Rick’s head jerked toward the sound of her.