Chapter 3: Embracing the Life

The campus looked different when we drove back through the gates.

I don’t know if it was the desert light, reader, or if it was me. But something had shifted. Something had changed.

The adobe buildings that had once seemed foreign and intimidating now felt like home. The heat that had once suffocated me now felt like a blanket. The students who had once stared at me with judgment now seemed like background noise.

I was different, reader. I’d been transformed.

Zoe was asleep in the passenger seat. Her naked body was curled up, her head against the window, her breath slow and even. She looked peaceful. Serene. Like she’d never known fear.

I reached over and touched her hand. She stirred but didn’t wake.

“We’re home,” I whispered.

And I meant it, reader. This was home now. Not Colorado. Not North Park. This desert campus. This sorority. This cunt face.

I pulled into the parking lot. I turned off the engine. The silence was sudden and heavy.

Zoe’s eyes fluttered open. “We’re back?”

“We’re back.”

She stretched. Her naked body arched against the seat. “I feel different,” she said.

“Different how?”

“Like I’m where I’m supposed to be.” She smiled. “Like I’m home.”

I felt it too, reader. I felt it in my bones.

Sienna was waiting for us when we walked through the sorority house doors.

“Finally,” she said. “I thought you’d never come back.”

“Miss us?” Zoe asked.

“Someone had to keep the cunt faces in line.” She laughed. “Marcus nearly burned the place down.”

“Marcus?”

“He had a session that went wrong. A VIP client. Too aggressive. He passed out for about five minutes.”

I felt my stomach clench, reader. Marcus was the lifer. The one who’d shown me his scars with pride.

“Is he okay?” I asked.

“He’s fine. He’s Marcus.” Sienna shrugged. “He’s survived worse.”

She looked at me. Her eyes narrowed. “You look different.”

“Different how?”

“Like you’ve finally figured out what you want.”

She was right, reader. I had figured it out. I wanted Zoe. I wanted the boxes. I wanted this life.

I went to the Resident Wing that afternoon.

The corridor was the same—long, white, sterile. The doors were the same. The boxes were the same.

But I was different, reader. I was no longer a visitor. I was an owner.

I walked past the first-floor rooms. The non-students. The ones required to be sealed in the boxes no less than twenty hours a week. The ones who were always naked. The cunt faces in those boxes.

Some of the doors were open. I could see inside. I could see the wooden frames, the cushions, the cunt faces protruding through the seats.

They saw me too, reader. Their eyes followed me. They knew who I was. They knew I was Zoe’s owner.

I stopped at one of the doors. A girl was inside. She was young—maybe eighteen, maybe nineteen. Her body was covered in strap marks. Her cunt face was flushed from a recent session.

“Hi,” I said.

She blinked. “You’re Darcy.”

“Yes.”

“Zoe’s owner.”

“Yes.”

She smiled. “She talks about you. She says you’re different.”

“Different how?”

“Different because you love her.” She shrugged. “Most people don’t love us. They just use us.”

I thought about that, reader. I thought about all the people who rode cunt faces without caring. Without loving.

“I do love her,” I said. “I love her more than anything.”

The girl nodded. “That’s good. That’s what we need.”

I found Marcus in the common room.

He was sitting on the couch, his naked body covered in fresh marks. His eyes were tired but alert.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Fine.” He smiled. “I’ve been worse.”

“The VIP session?”

“Sienna told you.” He nodded. “Yeah. It was rough. But I survived.”

I sat down across from him, reader. I wanted to understand.

“Marcus,” I said, “how do you do it? How do you spend twenty hours a week in a box, being ridden, being used?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Because I chose this,” he said finally. “Because every time I’m in that box, I’m proving that my surrender is mine. No one forced me into this. No one made me sign the contract. I chose it.”

“But the deaths—”

“Are part of the deal.” He shrugged. “You can’t have this much freedom without some risk. You’ll learn that.”

He was right, reader. I was learning. Every day, I was learning.

I asked Marcus about the hierarchy that afternoon.

“The novices,” he said, “are on the first floor. They’re the new ones. The ones still learning. They’re in the boxes maybe fifteen hours a week. Always supervised.”

“The lifers?”

“The lifers are on the second floor.” He gestured upward. “We’ve been here for years. We’ve given everything. We’re the best.”

“Zoe’s a lifer?”

“Zoe’s been here for three years. She’s not officially a lifer, but everyone treats her like one.” He smiled. “She’s the most popular female cunt face in the program.”

I felt a surge of pride, reader. My cunt face. My Zoe. She was the best.

“And the students?” I asked. “The ones who still attend classes?”

“They’re in between. Some are novices. Some are lifers. It depends on how long they’ve been here.”

“And me?”

Marcus laughed. “You’re a sponsor. You’re above all of us.”

The next morning, I watched Zoe prepare for her day.

She woke early—before dawn, before the sun. She stretched her body, her skin glowing in the dim light.

I watched her, reader. I watched every movement. Every breath.

“Morning,” I said.

“Morning.” She smiled. “You’re up early.”

“I wanted to see you.”

She laughed. “You see me every day.”

“Not like this. Not like...”

“Not like what?”

I reached for her, reader. I touched her face—her cunt face—and I kissed her.

“Not like you’re mine,” I said. “Not like I own you.”

She kissed me back. “I’m yours, Darcy. I’ve always been yours.”

I followed Zoe through her morning routine.

She started with liquid nutrition—a thick protein shake that provided all the calories she needed for the day. She drank it through a tube, the same way she’d drink it while sealed in the box.

“Some people don’t like the tubes,” she said. “But I don’t mind. It’s easier than eating solid food.”

I watched her, reader. I watched her drink the shake through the tube. I watched her swallow. I watched her cute face.