You at least survive until class

As your first week begins, you really have no idea how you’ve managed to fly under the radar and stay out of trouble. Each day you see new horrific scenes that seem to everyone around you to simply be the norm. From the cafeteria, where guys without proper dining etiquette became the naked tables that women ate off of, to the library, where boys who made any noise were gagged and turned into the chairs the women relaxed on.

The worse was any boys in orange collars, with punishments put on the highest display. These were in the middle of campus, where their humiliation could have the greatest effect. Before this you would of thought public lashing and beatings the worse punishment, but that was mild compared to the creatively sadistic methods of the disciplinary committee. They always seemed to be focused on turning a profit from the humiliation of their charges too. Sometimes that simply meant renting out particularly cute or attractive boys to be fucked violently in public, other times it meant binding them in strange leather pony gear and running a cab service throughout campus. The first guy you saw doing this you felt particularly bad for. He was a skinny white guy, wearing a leather chest harness, armbinders trapping his arms behind him, tall boots forcing him on his toes in horseshoes, and a pony hood that dehumanized him. His pale skin was red with sweat and lash marks, obviously exhausted from pulling a cart with multiple women in such a condition. What stood out the most to you though was not his bizarre conditions or obvious pain and exhaustion, but how extremely hard his untouched cock was. You keep wondering how anyone could enjoy that.

The craziness of the school was not exclude from your freshman level classes. It was here you got the closest to your female classmates, and could find out more about their own hierarchy. Being so new and with the 4 to 1 ratio of women to men, very few of the women had gotten a chance to use or exploit a guy, and only a handful of the 1600 freshmen women had collared their own ****. In all your classes you only saw one red collar, on a muscular black guy naked except for his collar, full gimp hood, and leash held by a particularly scary looking trio of Hispanic girls. They swapped him between them in class, one making him eat her out under her desk, and another smothering him under her ass. Apparently anyone who had a red collared **** was at the peak of the social hierarchy, especially if they were well trained.

With all of this, you had to endure a number of women cat calling and hitting on you in class. It was worse in history class, where you happened to be one of two guys out of thirty students, and the other guy happened to be protected by a blue sports collar. This meant every one of the girls had their eyes solely on you. You’ve never felt so much like a prey surrounded by predators. The girls sitting closest to you had the most persistent suggestions.

The girl sitting behind you, a somewhat heavyset goth girl wearing a black shirt with mesh sleeves and overly done dark makeup kept leaning forward, whispering “you really are cute slut. I bet your ass would be perfect in a skirt... and your lips around my plastic cock.”

A short muscular butch with a undercut boys haircut sits on your right, and her strong hands kept finding their way to your legs and ass. You would flinch whenever she squeezed, and though you glare at her she simply looked amused. Honestly if there weren’t all the other women here pursuing you to get in her way, the butch would likely have done whatever she wanted to you.

On your right was a nerdy girl, wearing a sweater and thick bottle cap glasses. She was one of the few girls here more focused on the actual class than having you beneath her.