My name is Ethan.
I was nineteen when I walked onto campus.
By twenty-one I had fucked my way through half the women in power and still couldn’t walk straight.
100 % first-person male diary • college sophomore turned campus sex toy • sorority initiations • married professors • lacrosse team gangbangs • faculty wives • zero limits • 18+
I was hauling boxes into my dorm when the Delta Phi seniors showed up in cut-off shorts and crop tops. They said they were “helping freshmen settle in.” By sunset I was naked on the quad, wrists tied to a tree with jump rope, while twenty-two seniors took turns riding my face and cock until the campus police finally broke it up. I came six times. They filmed every second. I still get hard every time I walk past that tree.
Pledge week was simple: I belonged to the entire sorority. They kept me in the basement on a mattress, door never locked. Any sister could walk in, use me, leave. I ate pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They made me keep count on the wall in Sharpie. Final tally after seven days: 187 orgasms given, 43 received, zero hours of sleep.
Dr. Evelyn Hart, 42, English Lit, wedding ring, perfect ass, locked her office door at 4 p.m. every Tuesday, bent me over her desk, and fucked me with a strap-on while making me recite Shakespeare. If I messed up a line she spanked me until I cried. I intentionally flubbed iambic pentameter for months.
The women’s lacrosse team won nationals and decided I was the trophy. Twenty-three athletes, one mattress, no safe word. They took turns sitting on my face until I passed out, then revived me with ice water and kept going. I woke up inside the team captain while the next morning and stayed there until practice.
Word spread. Three tenured professors, all married to other faculty, started a “study group.” Every Thursday night in the faculty lounge. They took turns riding me on the leather couch while the others watched and graded papers. One husband walked in once. He watched for ten minutes, jerked off in the corner, then left without a word. They gave me an A+ in every class anyway.
Sorority paid for everything if I agreed to be the house toy for ten days straight. Private villa, infinity pool, twenty girls rotating in pairs. I didn’t see daylight for a week. They kept me hard with little blue pills and cold bottles of water on my balls, and pure greed. I still have sand in places sand should never be.
Finals week the library closed at 2 a.m. At 2:01 the entire third floor became clothing-optional. Sorority, lacrosse team, four professors, six faculty wives, and me. We fucked on study tables, in the stacks, on the circulation desk. I came so many times I started dry-heaving. They just laughed and kept going until the sun came up.
I’m twenty-one now. I still live in the same dorm, but my door is never locked. My phone buzzes 24/7 with new invitations. I haven’t paid for groceries, rent, or tuition in two years. I also haven’t worn underwear since move-in day freshman year.
College is supposed to be the best years of your life.
Mine just happen to be spent on my back.