"Ah…" In the dorm common shower, I let out a soft groan and dropped the vibrating toy still clutched in my hand. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, my eyes hazy, my face flushed. An indescribable emptiness churned within me. My name is Olivia, though everyone calls me Liv, and I’m a college student. Since my first time in high school, I'd always had a guy. "Pure face, wild side" was how most of them described me. But I never would have imagined that my first boyfriend in college, the one I'd chosen so carefully, would turn out to be more obsessed with gaming than with me. We could be mid-makeout session, and if his buddies called for a game, he'd be out the door in an instant, ditching me to play with them. He couldn't care less if I was satisfied. Compared to Blake, his roommate, who always had a hungry look in his eyes for my butt, it was night and day. I remember the first time I realized Blake's… potential. I'd seen him single and decided to set up my best friend, Ashley, with him. They hit it off, and one night we ended up sharing a hotel room. We booked a two-bed room to save money. I took one bed, Ashley and Blake took the other. In the middle of the night, Ashley's muffled pleas woke me. "Easy… easy there, you're like a wild animal… I… I can't take any more." I cautiously opened my eyes to see Blake aggressively pinning Ashley beneath him, moving with relentless force. After what felt like an eternity—seriously, almost fifty minutes—Ashley couldn't take it anymore. "Y-you… if you don't stop… I'm gonna be seriously pissed!" Blake must've heard the genuine anger in her voice, because he wrapped things up pretty fast after that. I was so envious I practically drooled. Part of me wished I could rush in and take her place. But wishing aside, I never actually did it. Then I thought of my own boyfriend, Brandon. It was frustrating, like wanting something to be better but knowing it just wouldn't be. Brandon was better than Kevin in every way except one: that one thing women crave and sometimes resent. I dried off, pushed those thoughts aside, and got ready to get dressed. But when I stepped out of the shower, still naked, I saw the locker mysteriously shut. Then it hit me: I'd heard the janitorial staff earlier, asking if anyone was in here. I'd been focused on moisturizing and hadn't answered, so they must've thought the place was empty and locked up. "But I'm still completely naked! Not a single piece of clothing left out for me. How am I supposed to get out?" I frantically searched around, a wave of panic washing over me. I was utterly exposed, with nothing but my flip-flops and a towel. I was completely trapped. To make matters worse, tomorrow was the first day of Fall Break. I couldn't even afford to spend the night here waiting for someone to rescue me. Finally, I steeled myself and made a decision: I'd have to go out naked and call for help. Not that I planned on streaking across campus. My idea was to hide behind the door, shield my naked body, explain my predicament, and ask someone to grab me some clothes. It would be incredibly embarrassing, sure, but at least it wouldn't be complete social ruin. Without much more hesitation, I bit my lip, stood up, and carefully poked my head out of the changing room door. "Hello? Is anyone out there?" I called out. Silence. After a moment's hesitation, I used my towel to cover my sensitive bits and tiptoed out of the changing room. My heart hammered against my ribs, a mix of shame and nervousness making my whole body feel flushed. I took a deep breath and called out again, but still, nothing. By now, I was gradually getting used to the feeling of being naked. My nerves had settled somewhat, and I felt a little bolder. I let go of my arms, which had been crossed defensively over my chest, and walked forward, exposed. After confirming the entire floor was deserted, I approached the exit. I looked up. The door was locked! It was a barred iron gate, and one of the bottom bars was missing, leaving a gap about a foot off the ground—just wide enough for my slender frame to squeeze through. I breathed a long sigh of relief. The girls' dorm was too far, but the guys' dorm was just across the way. Brandon and his roommates had all gone home for Fall Break, and I knew Brandon always left his spare key above the doorframe. I could easily slip over there and grab some clothes. No time to waste. I got down on my hands and knees and eagerly started to crawl through the gap in the iron gate. In that position, my slender waist naturally dipped, and my rounded backside lifted high, a truly compromising pose that felt almost… inviting. I knew how scandalous this position looked, but I was so desperate to escape that I couldn't care less. Thanks to years of dance, my body was flexible. My upper half slid through easily, but my firm, full backside got completely stuck. I twisted my waist, wiggling my hips from side to side, trying to flatten my backside enough to get through. Just as I was struggling, about to give up from sheer exhaustion, I heard laughter in the distance. It was a group of guys, noisy and boisterous, heading straight towards me. Suddenly, a strange, dark thought wormed its way into my mind: What if they saw the dance major, stuck in a dog-like pose, half-naked in an iron gate? Would they take advantage? Would they… force me into all sorts of positions? The idea, the vulnerability, sent a shiver down my spine. I wouldn't be able to fight back…
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