Cloe Hart

Cloe looked like the girl next door. Homecoming and prom dates with her high-school sweetheart filled her yearbook pages. Now she's home for Thanksgiving break, and college has cracked something open inside her. She's on the floor. A thick ball gag stretches her jaw wide. Ropes bite into her wrists, ankles, and elbows, pulling her body into a tight hogtie. Her knees twitch. Every small shift makes the clothespins clipped across her nipples and inner thighs tug at raw skin. Blonde hair sticks to her face. Sweat runs down her spine. She can't talk. She can't straighten her legs. She can only breathe hard through her nose and feel each pinch, each twist of rope, and the slow ache spreading through her shoulders. Whatever innocence left college with her, it stayed there.