"Jerk Me Off, Joan!"

Never in a million years would I have guessed that Paul would be the one to break, much less the one to break the game. While Molly was still spitting acid at him he blocked her out and looked at Joan. “Truth or dare?” he said.

Joan sat up straight. Oh, that poor girl. The look on her face. She was heartbroken. If she was willing to wait, why couldn't he? In her mind, she and Paul were just the same. She didn’t understand the difference. A pretty girl who doesn't fuck is making a choice. A homely guy who doesn't is boiling in lust. “Dare,” she murmured.

Wrong move.

Paul pushed his hand down his own pants. My eyes went wide. He was hard, I could see it through his sweat pants. Jack's humiliation of him and Molly's meltdown hadn't turned him off. They just reminded him of every time he went to bed horny and alone. “Jerk me off,” he growled.

“Paul!” I shouted. My half-decent opinion of him cratered. The only difference between him and every other guy was that he couldn't live out his pervy little dreams.

“Paul, man, come on,” mumbled Harry, going to the other boy's side. The high of the coke had worn off in a flash. Paul pushed him away. Harry swayed in place, not quite solid enough yet to really enforce his will on Paul.

“That's the game. You said dare. Jerk me off, Joan!” Paul said. He looked like he was on the verge of fishing his cock out of his pants. Just like Jack did, I thought. Like he believed he could one up Jack by demanding this virgin girl give him a handjob.

Half of us were screaming at each other by this point. If we hadn't been the only people left in the building, someone would have called the cops for sure. But no one would've come. We were as shut out from the police as the rest of the world.

“Or you could do some fucking coke,” Jack giggled as me and Molly argued with him and Paul. Joan sat in between us, never moving from the chair. She was white from head to toe. Joanie, doing a line? That was the only thing more unbelievable than what Paul had demanded of her.

“You don't have to do either of those things. They aren't the cops,” Molly said, shooting dirty looks at both our enemies. She still looked green, like she hadn't gotten over the disgust of having Paul reveal their ‘trifle.’ I didn't want to think about that, to be honest. We had bigger fish to fry. “You know what? Let's just go back to our room right now. Fuck all you guys. If any of you are actually decent fucking people, you'll come too.”

“Wait,” said Joan.

She hadn't spoken a word since Paul made his demand. Now she was holding onto Molly's elbow. There was this weird rigidity in the way she sat, like she was going to fall over if she made another move. Then I put it together. Those stupid comments about drowning had gotten to her. She was terrified of being alone right now. Not to mention the fact that the room she shared with Molly was on the first floor. If anything was going to flood, it would be there first. “Let's just keep playing the game, I'll do it, it's no big deal,” she said, but she didn't sound like herself.

Maybe that was enough to make Paul reconsider. He looked back and forth, trying to fight the urge to be a real sicko. The sicko won, at least partially. “Okay, okay, okay,” he grumbled. “Joan doesn't have to jerk me off. But then you and Violet have to instead,” he said, trying not to look put out.