Alison, Lucy, and Melanie were the three most popular girls in the Paradise Academy for Exceptional Women. They were the queens, the alphas, the top of the food chain. As they strode three abreast through the corridor, the unpopular students jumped from their path, stretching their backs against the walls for fear of getting in their way.

Alison’s round buttocks swayed from side to side inside her designer shorts that were bespoke to her full hips and defined waist. Her thick, blond hair flowed down the back of the V-neck tank top that barely contained her intimidating bosom.

Brunette Lucy’s expensive heels clacked over the floor. Her smooth, tanned legs were on full display beneath a short pleated Burberry skirt. Her long-sleeved white turtleneck hugged her slender frame and enhanced her firm breasts.

California blond Melanie was in light wash, ripped jeans, and flip-flops. She wore a slouchy caramel tank top with a large V-neck that showed off her cleavage and bra straps.

Emily hurried to keep pace with their confident strides, carrying their bags along with her own. It was hard for her to believe that she was lucky enough to have been adopted by the three of them. It was sometimes hard to believe she even belonged to the same species. Yes, they treated her as their lackey and bitch, but in return they protected her. She was grateful. She would never have survived her senior year without them.

Unlike her friends, Emily did not come from money. Her mother could never have afforded to send her to such an elite educational institute on her own. Emily was on a scholarship. And as much pride as her mother had of seeing her genius daughter be accepted into the Paradise Academy, as a scholarship, Emily was subjected to daily reminders of her inferiority compared to her rich classmates.

Like all scholarships, she was at the mercy of the rich, reminded daily that she was a freeloader - a parasite that fed off the wealth and success of others. There were only a handful of scholarships who overcame their lowly status to be considered popular. These were the attractive and outgoing girls. Emily was definitely not one of these.

It was why she worked hard every day to please her friends. Without their protection, she would suffer. She spent all of last night, into the early hours of the morning, perfecting their homework. It was challenging to ensure each of their essays were not only worthy of top marks, but that each was composed in a unique voice with individual, creative, and logical conclusions. Luckily, the intelligence that enabled her to win a scholarship gave her the ability to help her friends excel. It was as if all her prior education had simply been training to give her friends the best chance to succeed. Of course, her own school performance suffered, but that was one of the smaller prices she paid for survival.

The absolute worst were the TikTok videos. She was known on social media as “DumbBitch101” and as the name implied, she did lots of dumb shit. She ate snotty tissues, shoved dirty socks into her mouth, licked toilet seats, and pretty much anything her friends thought might be funny. The three of them were always searching online for more gross shit their little dumb bitch could do. The videos had become quite successful, garnering hundreds of thousands of views.

It had reached the point recently where random people would approach Emily in the grocery store expecting her to drop what she was doing to do something gross for their entertainment. When she didn’t, they would yell at her, push her around, and in some cases assault her. It was becoming scary for her to even leave the house without her friends around to protect her.

The idea for “DumbBitch” began when Alison volunteered Emily to take part in the infamous milk crate challenge. Emily was made to pile up stacks of milk crates like a staircase and then climb and descend the structure without falling. Her height and terrible eyesight made it an impossible endeavor. She fell multiple times, dislocating her shoulder and breaking her wrist. Her friends were in fits of laughter. It gained thousands of views and “DumbBitch” was born.

In her latest video, Emily applied erection cream to her lips. Lucy had teased that Emily’s lips were too thin and that she knew a way to fix them. After all, didn’t Emily want beautiful, full lips like her friends? It was okay for the first five minutes. Her lips even started to pout like a duck. She dared to think this might not be the craziest idea in the world. Then came the tingle, quickly followed by a burn. She rushed to the restroom, leaving the laughter of her friends behind, and tried to scrub them with water. But nothing helped. Even the nurse questioned why she’d done something so dumb. Apparently, the ER had never heard of “DumbBitch101.” Her lips had never recovered from the blisters.

She knew they were exploiting her for their own amusement, but the meaner they were, the more excited she got. She spent as much time as she could masturbating to everything her friends did and said to her. All the humiliation, degradation, and cruelty ... she loved it. Her pussy would never allow her to stand up to them, no matter how much they abused her.

The friends passed by an old poster of Alison from when she ran for Senior Class President. Her picture looked down at the school, commanding the students to vote for her in big white letters on a backdrop of the American flag.

She had of course won in a landslide. Her only opposition came from a scholarship who had been nominated by the popular girls as a joke. The scholarship was already at a severe disadvantage in terms of resources and popularity, but it was made so much worse by the relentless sabotage she suffered.

The popular students made all their victims and lackeys cheer enthusiastically for everything Alison did, and at the same time ordered them to jeer everything the scholarship did. Every speech was drowned by boos. Her social media was plagued by smears declaring her as racist, homophobic, and transphobic. She soon received death threats and could not even enter the lunchroom without being pelted with food.

Alison magnanimously invited the scholarship to her victory party. The poor girl was wheeled out, tied to a handcart in Alison’s promotional banners. She was in tears as she was made to give a speech proclaiming the better woman had won and apologized for all the hurt her campaign had caused. Her mouth was then bandaged up in more of Alison’s banners and a pin with Alison’s face was stabbed through her nipple. She was wheeled outside with all the party guests following to cheer as she was pushed down an embankment and into a muddy creek.

She moved states shortly after this, but her manufactured reputation as white supremacist trash followed her. Social media was forever. There was no escape. She would never get into college. She would struggle for employment. A Google search would always expose her as the girl who ran for Senior-class President on a platform of hate.

Alison’s victory over her was total. It scared Emily to think how quickly and easily that poor girl’s life had been destroyed. It was a warning not to cross the popular girls. Every time Emily thought she could no longer cope with the cost of Alison’s protection, she remembered the awful fate of that girl and worked harder than ever to stay on Alison’s good side.

In the corridor ahead of them stood Peyton. She was a tall, athletic girl in black leggings, a crop top that showed off her ripped stomach, and a cropped leather biker jacket. Her nose, tongue, and the tops of her ears were pierced. Her hand was around the throat of Olivia, a severely overweight girl whom the popular girls nicknamed “Piggy.” Olivia held her t-shirt up to reveal her flabby stomach, covered in red slap marks.