Callum bent at the waist involuntarily once more, this time dropping the phone he had been using for directions onto the moving walkway and giving any passersby an unobstructed view of his ass. He had experienced little control of his actions since donning those cursed white panties almost twelve hours earlier, but this was something else entirely. He had cut through the college buildings to make use of the moving walkways – anything to minimise the amount of walking he had to do, anything to minimise the amount of friction... Yet, he still felt like the buttplug was splitting him in half.
Callum hadn't confronted the sorority about the pills, of course. The panties would never allow him such a spine, though he had returned to the house and meekly dropped the drugs at Cynthia's feet. She had simply sighed, a resigned look on her face that said they were going to have to do things the hard way. She called two of the other girls, who led him to a large bathroom. When Cynthia returned, she parted his painted lips and forced a cold metal object into his mouth..
“I would leave it in there a few minutes...” Cynthia advised. “You won't want it to be cold. Not where it is going next.” She paused before adding. “...or dry.” Callum caught a sidewards glance at himself in the bathroom and saw what looked like a jewel protruding from between his lips. It took a moment for him to realise what it was and then his eyes went wide with panic – yet the Prison Panties held him in place, obediently awaiting his next ordeal. When Cynthia finally removed the large buttplug from his mouth, she unscrewed the bud from the stalk to reveal a hollow interior. Winking, she pushed the pack of pills inside before reassembling the sex-toy. Her comrades held Callum's arms tightly as the panties were pulled down just enough to expose its destination but not enough to lessen their hold over him. Cynthia mimicked a ball player winding up a pitch and slowly but firmly pressed the plug into Callum's waiting asshole...
'I'm a drug mule...' Callum thought miserably as he reached the top of the moving staircase. 'I'm a drug mule with six-inch heels strapped to my feet in a summer dress, my second dress of the day not counting the ones the sorority had me try on in the house, that doesn't even the cover the women's panties I am wearing that just happen to have me under some kind of chemically induced voodoo. Oh, and I am pregnant with a screwtop buttplug full of pills...' He arrived at the top and almost fell flat on his face. He couldn't breathe. It was as if the toy was squeezing the rest of his organs up into his lungs. He forced himself upright with a grunt and his asscheeks clenched even harder.
“You!” An authoritative voice called to him through the haze. “You're from Alpha-Phi-Omega, aren't you? Don't lie to me, Girly!” Callum raised his head to see a man in a campus security uniform striding towards him. “I know your sorority's racket and I know you know there's a toll.” The man paused and glanced around and Callum could tell he was looking for somewhere quiet they could go/ “It's the kind of toll you pay on your knees!” Callum wanted to scream – wanted to run, but the panties were already making him obey...
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