<span style="font-weight: bold">Naomi Thompson</span><br/><br/>I squirmed in my seat, as Xarces half-gloated, half-promised how<span style="font-style: italic">delectably delicious</span>a meal he’d make for some unsuspectingly lucky girl someday. I wondered if he’d given that speech to Rachel, if the fear of losing her demeanor might be what<span style="font-style: italic">kept</span>the ice-queen from devouring him whole… Clif, at least, seemed equally stunned and uncomfortable, albeit for different reasons.<br/><br/>Curse that it was the<span style="font-style: italic">beginning</span>of our shift. I wanted a stockboy, bought and bound and<span style="font-style: italic">banged</span>before sending him on the long slide down into my stomach. I<span style="font-style: italic">needed</span>that. I knew I was panting, rubbing my thighs together on the damp heat between them, and I hated Xarces a little for that. Looking at him, I couldn’t help but<span style="font-style: italic">lick</span>my lips and wonder helplessly what it would be like.<br/><br/>“We’ll make sure no-one gets expelled by the end of this,” Xarces promises -<span style="font-style: italic">you</span>might be, I thought viciously, hungrily, lustily - and it<span style="font-style: italic">settles</span>me as the vehicle brakes<span style="font-style: italic">hard</span>through the corner onto Greek Row, and continues to slow to a screeching halt before the Eta Beta Eta house.<br/><br/>It sprawls upto three floors, not counting the half-basement, and windows in the attic betray the later conversion of that space into yet more bedrooms and bathrooms. If less than a hundred girls live here, it would be surprising.<br/><br/>The basement’s windows are barred, glassless… stockboy holding pens. As the sirens die, you can hear the soft sobbing, the pleading for release… and the cruel, mocking, girlish laughter of the sister whose turn it is to<span style="font-style: italic">oversee</span>.<br/><br/>Even with them, the chance of survival for<span style="font-style: italic">any</span>boy passing these walls is… minimal. The only exit, its said, is through a sister’s ass.<br/><br/>The plumbing is certain to be<span style="font-style: italic">superb</span>.<br/><br/>Naomi grabs her kit and dashes for the door without a second though, quite ignoring the horror below...