Sasha, a tall, dark domme.

You feel like Sasha needs help more urgently than the rest. If she's been here weeks, surrounded by such lovely creatures, and hasn't made a single friend, then things are even worse than you feared. You feel a pang of guilt for not seeking her out sooner. You suppose you wanted the easier wins, but what's the point if you left the most victimized alone with no help at all?

First, you have to get through a long day of classes, still horny from the piercings, but feeling like taking them out would be like losing Dee all over again. Luckily, the plug Greta gifted you helps you keep your head above water. By the time the day is over, all you want to do is climb into bed and cry yourself to sleep, but you know you aren't the only one with problems. Instead, you find a student directory and look up Sasha's room and head over to pay her a visit.

You knock on her door and hear her shuffling around, but she doesn't open the door. After a few minutes of waiting anxiously you say, "Sasha? It's Amy...you know the bimboi...that uhm..." you are a little surprised at how hard it is to say. You had hoped it would get easier, but it certainly isn't at the moment. It doesn't matter how hard it is, you promised to make a million right choices to counter your bad ones if that's what it took, and that's what you'll do. "Sorry. I didn't mean to trail off. I'm the bimboi that infected you on purpose to please an abusive bigot. I'm not here to ask for forgiveness, but I would like to help in any way I can."

The door opens and the most beautiful bimboi you have ever met towers over you. She has hair cascading down like spun silk, Bette Davis eyes that pierce your soul, cupid bow lips shooting an arrow into your broken heart, and the delicate features of a porcelain doll. She stands stunning and stark naked, her full breasts heaving and her dark nipples hard. Her figure is sleek and smooth and her cock jutting up a foot at least and dripping precum constantly. The principal said she had been locked up alone for weeks, and from the state of her arousal, you can certainly believe it. As you struggle to come up with something to say, she effortlessly lifts you in the air with one hand and casually carries you inside, slamming the door behind her.

Still holding you hovering a foot off the ground, which is eye level for her, Sasha says, "So...you still want to help me ANY way you can?" Her voice comes out a guttural growl, but you hear more hurt than hate in it, and you've heard enough of both lately to tell the difference. "What if I need your help working out my anger? Will you be my pretty little punching bag? You'll heal up anyway...Hell, you'd probably cum if I kicked your teeth in, wouldn't you?"

Feeling so small and scared, but somehow still more worried for this gorgeous giant than your own safety, you whimper weakly. "Yes. I probably would cum, and then hate myself for loving it, but I am not here for me. If me hating myself and letting you unleash your hurt on me helps you, then I will." No sooner than you finish, Sasha pulls back her fist and a sick smile sullies perfect face. She rockets her fist towards your eye socket. You don't flinch, but she does, stopping at the last second.

"No. That's too easy. Hurting you let's you off the hook too quick. What I should really do is tear down this bullshit nice gurl image you're trying to build. Would you let me fuck you so stupid and slutty, over and over until I either get sick of you or your mind snaps? I'll make it real public too, just like you like, serve you up for lunch in the cafeteria and let all the bimboi bullies take a bite. Maybe if you have enough will power you won't go permanently bimboi blank. Would you do that for little old me?" Sasha pulls you close so that you can feel her cock slide up your skirt and press against your plump, pantied ass.

You can tell this threat is more tempting for her, though it sounds like it scares her more than it does you. You wonder if you would survive another deliciously degrading orgy like the one that ruined so many lives. You wonder if she would survive destroying you, or if it would just drag her deeper down to the depths of despair. You answer faintly, and falteringly, "I...I will. I don't know if you'll enjoy destroying me as much as I will though. At this point, obliteration feels like the easy way out for me."

Sasha looks stricken and she drops you to the floor, but effortlessly catches you in midair and pulls you back so you can see the hatred beginning to overtake the hurt in her eyes. "It would, wouldn't it? Well what if I gave you something truly awful to do? Something that would do worse than destroy you? What if I told you I know a way out of here? It's no use to me of course. There's nothing out there for me now. Nothing but ****. I want you to sneak out and infucked Slade, Brad, and the rest of the football team. None of them stepped in to save me, so they should all suffer the way I have! I can't even wear anything but satin or silk now! I want those fuckers to pay! If it weren't for them, your rented ass wouldn't have been there in the first place! So are you going to help me, or did you just want to say some words at me?"

Sasha stares at you full of fire and fury. You know she means it, and in a way, you kind of agree. All the pain and punishment you put yourself through and you're letting the ones that invited you to the party in the first place off the hook. Isn't it time you made someone else pay?