Cindy awoke with a hangover and an inch on her nose that she couldn’t satisfy. The hangover was from the copious amounts of alcohol she had consumed the night before while out clubbing with her suitemates Tabitha and Lola. Clara was supposed to join too, but she had felt the need to stay in and study for a Chemistry quiz.

The unsatisfiable itch on the nose, however, was due to Cindy’s inability to raise her arm. This struck the awakening girl as odd, and hastened the opening of the drowsy girl’s eyes. What Cindy saw was not comforting.

She was in a small dingy room, the walls lined with shelves. It looked like a storage room or janitor’s closet. That was not the part that set Cindy to panic. No, Cindy’s worry came from three other details about the small room.

The first was that would be the fact that the brunette girl found herself duct taped to a chair in the center of the room. Bands of thick tape wrapped around her and the chair at a variety of locations, from her feet to her arms to her torso. Cindy could wiggle, but not really move much at all besides that.

The second point of concern for Cindy was that her dress from the night before was missing, as was the underwear she had worn beneath it. Her original sensible heels had been replaced with garish stripper heels, stilettos with an absolutely ridiculous height to them that seemed to be locked onto Cindy’s feet with small padlocks at her ankles. While the tape secured her to the chair, it covered nothing important, leaving the sexy brunette’s breasts and pussy on complete display as her legs were held in a spread position.

But the third, and clearly worst, thing that Cindy noticed, the thing that really set her heart to pounding in humiliation-driven fear… was the camera. Well, cameras, plural. The entire room seemed to be covered in video cameras, all pointed at her. A dozen or two different angles of her restrained nudity. The panic worsened, when Cindy read the message painted onto the door in front of her.

The cameras go live to your Instagram when the clock hits 3am.

Love, the Middle College Volleyball Girls ;)

FUCK YOU was what Cindy wanted to say, only to now realize a fourth detail about her predicament: the rather large purple ballgag locked into her mouth. Along with it, Cindy couldn’t help noticing the ache in her jaw, as well as the feeling of drool trailing down her chin and dripping to land on her tits below.

Besides the painted message was a large analogue clock. One that currently read 2:40am.

Panicking, Cindy immediately began to pull and buck against the tape binding her to the chair. The tape was firm, but in the end, it was just regular duct tape. Slowly but surely, Cindy could feel her desperate efforts paying off.

With the clock at 2:50am, Cindy got her first arm free. That sped up her escape some, but not as much as she expected, as picking at the tape with her fingernails was slow. Still, Cindy finally managed to get herself completely free of the chair as the clock clicked past 2:59am.

Desperate to not end up nude on camera, Cindy made a split second decision. There wasn’t time to break or disable all of the cameras in the room, so her only option was to get out of the room.

At a sprint, albeit a very unstable one due to her stripper heels, Cindy made a mad dash for the door. She slammed through it, the barrier opening outward as she stumbled out of the room…

And into the massive atrium where the Archaeology Department was hosting its annual and well-attended Alumni Brunch Mixer…

The naked volleyball girl in stripper heels and a ballgag became quite the object of curious and lustful attention for the gathered academic researchers, but not the only one. But the other surprises at that Brunch are a topic for another story…