Try again

You lay on the floor for what feels like an eternity, catching your breath as your heart pounds in your chest. The sting of Chloe’s words, the sound of the other girls’ mocking laughter—it all swirls in your mind, fueling a burning sense of desperation.

You have to do something.

There’s no way you can let this humiliation continue. Not like this. You tell yourself that you still have a chance, that you’re not completely out of the fight yet. You just need to find the right moment—something she won’t see coming.

Slowly, you roll onto your hands and knees, your muscles aching from the fall. Chloe is standing just a few feet away, her back turned slightly as she chats casually with Amanda and the others, her body language completely relaxed. She’s still only using one arm, the other tied securely behind her back, like this is nothing more than a game to her.

You grit your teeth. You’re going to make her regret underestimating you.

With a surge of adrenaline, you push yourself to your feet, trying to move as quietly as possible. Your mind is racing, **** for a plan. Maybe if you go low this time—sweep her legs, take her by surprise—you’ll have a chance to get her on the ground. If you can at least make her stumble, it’ll give you some leverage, something to rebuild your shattered confidence.

You creep closer, your breath shallow, eyes locked on her legs. Chloe’s attention is still on the other girls, and for a split second, you think you’ve got her. You lunge forward, reaching out, aiming to grab her ankle and knock her off balance—

But she’s faster than you. Again.

Before your hand even reaches her leg, Chloe spins around with lightning speed. Her eyes are no longer playful—they’re filled with a sharp, furious intensity that freezes you in place. You barely have time to register the change in her expression before she moves.

With one fluid motion, Chloe grabs you by the wrist with her free hand, her fingers locking around your arm like a vice. You gasp, trying to wrench your hand free, but her grip is ironclad. Without a word, she jerks you forward, yanking you off your feet like you weigh nothing.

You crash to the floor again, the breath knocked from your lungs as you hit the hardwood. Chloe doesn’t let go. She hauls you up by your arm, lifting you effortlessly until you’re stumbling, barely able to stand. Her strength is overwhelming, and you can feel the humiliation setting in even deeper as she begins to manhandle you, all with just one arm.

“You really don’t learn, do you?” she snarls, her voice low and filled with anger now. Gone is the playful smirk, replaced by something much darker, much more intimidating. “I was going to go easy on you. But you just had to keep pushing.”

Before you can respond, Chloe raises her hand and slaps you hard across the face. The sound echoes through the room, sharp and brutal, and your head snaps to the side from the impact. The sting radiates through your cheek, but before you can even process the pain, she slaps you again.

And again.

Each strike is harder than the last, and you’re powerless to stop her. Your vision blurs, the room spinning slightly with every hit, but Chloe doesn’t let up. She’s relentless, her hand moving with terrifying speed, each slap sending waves of humiliation and helplessness crashing over you. You try to pull away, to defend yourself, but her grip on your wrist is too strong, keeping you completely at her mercy.

The other girls are watching, their laughter growing louder as Chloe continues to smack you around like a ragdoll. Every hit sends shockwaves of shame through your body, and you can feel your pride crumbling even further with each slap. The worst part is how easily she’s doing it—she’s barely even using her full strength, yet you’re completely powerless against her.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Chloe stops, her chest rising and falling with controlled breaths as she glares down at you. Your face is throbbing, the taste of blood faint on your tongue where you accidentally bit your lip. You look up at her, dazed and utterly defeated, but Chloe’s not done.

“Oh, you thought you could sneak up on me again?” she spits, her voice laced with venom. “You thought you could win after everything? Pathetic.”

She releases your wrist, but before you can even think about backing away, she grabs hold of your shirt, her fingers twisting into the fabric. In one swift motion, she yanks you forward again, her strength catching you completely off guard. You stumble helplessly into her grip, trying to find your balance, but Chloe doesn’t give you the chance.

Her free hand reaches down, grabbing the waistband of your pants.

You freeze, panic surging through your chest as you realize what she’s about to do.

“No—wait—” you start to protest, but it’s too late.

With a sharp tug, Chloe pulls your pants down to your knees, exposing your boxers to the open air. The cold rush of humiliation hits you like a wave as the room erupts in laughter once again. You can hear Amanda, Vanessa, and Lilly cackling behind you, their voices filled with amusement and scorn.

“Oh my God, look at him!” Vanessa jeers, her voice dripping with mockery. “Thought you were a man, huh? What happened to all that strength?”

Lilly giggles, her voice high-pitched and cruel. “Aww, poor thing. I think we’re stronger and smarter, don’t you think, girls?”

You’re frozen in place, your face burning with shame as Chloe stands over you, her hand still firmly gripping your pants, her gaze filled with nothing but contempt.

“Look at him,” Amanda says, her voice calm but sharp, cutting through the laughter. “He thought he could win. He thought he was stronger.”

Chloe releases your waistband, allowing your pants to fall all the way to your ankles, leaving you standing there in nothing but your boxers. The girls’ laughter continues to ring in your ears, and all you can do is stand there, utterly humiliated, your confidence completely shattered.

Chloe takes a step back, crossing her arms over her chest as she surveys her handiwork. “Is this what you wanted, Tom?” she asks, her voice cold and unforgiving. “Is this how you thought the weekend would go?”

You can barely bring yourself to look up at her. The shame is too overwhelming, the weight of the girls’ taunts pressing down on you like a physical ****. You’ve never felt more powerless in your life, and the realization that this is only the beginning of the weekend makes it even worse.

“Get used to it,” Chloe says, her voice sharp as a blade. “Because this is only going to get worse from here.”

As the girls continue to laugh and mock you, you stand there, pants around your ankles, utterly defeated.