What Happened in the Forgotten Classroom in the Basement

I started teaching workshops in the School of Arts and Letters when I was twenty-seven. I wasn’t a professor, just a volunteer with far too much desire to change the world. My friend Gerónimo, from the student union, found me a small classroom in the basement where I taught a cultural mediation workshop on Wednesday afternoons.

At first, two or three people came. That was enough to make me feel useful, to believe I was doing something good with my free time. Then they arrived.

Five guys, all in the early years of their degrees, all far too enthusiastic. Lucas, Bruno, Iván, Nicolás, and Tomás. Within a few weeks, the workshop had grown from three attendees to more than twenty, and they reassigned me to a larger classroom, also in the basement. They volunteered to be assistants, and I accepted without thinking too much about it.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to this workshop,” Iván, the quietest one, would tell me as he prepared the first mate of the afternoon.

I let myself be loved.

***

That June afternoon, it was raining with an intensity that emptied the streets. When I arrived at the classroom, there were only ten people besides my five assistants. Half the group was missing. I chalked it up to the rain and finals.

“Looks like there won’t be many of us today,” I said lightly, setting my backpack on the desk.

“Rain kills anyone’s enthusiasm,” Bruno replied, pouring the first mate. “I came because I like being here. I have a good time.”

I smiled and didn’t make much of it. I arranged my notes, turned on the classroom’s old computer, and just as I was about to begin, the fire alarm started blaring. A sharp, repeated shriek that sent us all leaping to our feet.

“So what do we do now?” I asked, more surprised than frightened.

“I know the procedure,” Iván said at once. “Follow me. There’s an exit down the back corridor.”

I found it odd that the corridor didn’t lead toward the street, but I trusted him. Iván opened the door to a classroom that clearly wasn’t being used: desks and chairs stacked to the ceiling, windows covered with old posters, a smell of damp that worked its way into my throat.

“Are you sure this is the way?” I asked, looking around.

“That’s exactly why,” he said with a confidence I’d never known him to have. “This classroom is isolated from the main building. If something happened upstairs, nothing would reach us here. When the alarm ends, we can leave safely.”

I took out my phone. No signal. Fifteen minutes had passed since the alarm went off, and no one had come looking for us. The classroom smelled of dust and something else, something I couldn’t name at the time.

“God, I don’t have any signal to let Mateo know,” I murmured.

“Don’t get worked up,” Tomás said with a laugh. “We’ll be out of this cave in five minutes.”

I was dressed as I almost always was: tight jeans, a white shirt that reached my hips, shoes with two-inch heels. My hair was pulled up in a high bun. Just a little foundation.

“How long have you been with your boyfriend?” Nicolás asked without looking up from his phone.

“Are we seriously going to talk about that?” I laughed nervously.

“If you don’t want to, don’t answer. It’s your private life.”

“No, it’s fine. Mateo and I have been going out since our last year of high school. Almost ten years now.”

“And is he jealous?” Lucas asked with a smile I didn’t quite like. “Because if I had a girlfriend like you, I wouldn’t leave her locked in a basement classroom with five guys.”

I let out a laugh to disguise my discomfort. My palms were sweating.

“Yes, he’s pretty jealous. If he knew where I was right now, he’d make a scene. But we’re used to it by now. I’m no saint either; I give him reasons sometimes.”

I said it without thinking. I tossed out that sentence like someone dropping a key on the floor and not noticing until minutes later. When I looked up, Iván was standing against the wall with his phone pointed at me.

“Are you filming?” I asked, still smiling.

“Look what I caught,” he said, turning the screen so the others could see. “The workshop leader confessing that she cheats on her boyfriend. If this falls into the wrong hands, it’ll be World War Three.”

Something in my chest tightened.

“Well, the alarm’s over. Let’s go back to the classroom.”

“Go back?” Bruno laughed softly. “This was a drill. They announced it last week, when you were absent. It lasts two hours. Informational talk included.”

I looked at the doors. I looked at their faces. Five guys who had smiled at me, helped me, and listened to me for months. Five guys who were looking at me differently now.

***

“There’s no one left in the building now,” Tomás said, coming closer with his hands in his pockets. “We’re alone. And we’re going to get justice for all those times you came in wearing those tight leggings, flaunting that ass, or that little denim skirt that got all of us worked up, or those little suits that made us imagine you on your knees, looking us in the eye. You’re a tease, Carolina.”

I felt cold.

“If I dress like that, it’s because I like it. It’s not my fault you guys don’t know how to control yourselves.”

“And what if your boyfriend gets hold of the video?” Iván asked from the shadows, still holding his phone. “Will that be our problem too?”

He approached slowly, showing me the screen. There were several clips. Me laughing. Me confessing. Me looking, by any possible interpretation, guilty.

“You’re friends with Gerónimo,” Iván continued. “But I understand he’s closer to Mateo than to you. If I send this to Gerónimo, how long will it take him to kick you out of the workshop and ruin your relationship? Unless the video disappears. Unless it’s deleted. Unless it’s as if it never existed.”

“I don’t have any money,” I blurted, my voice breaking. “The only money I make is from private English lessons.”

“We don’t want money,” Iván said with a calmness that made my skin prickle. “We just want to balance the scales. You said yourself you weren’t such a saint. Say yes to everything we suggest, and the video gets deleted. It’s that simple.”

***

My legs were trembling. I thought of Mateo, the workshop, everything I would lose if that video got out. I also thought, for a fraction of a second that I would later have trouble forgiving myself for, about Bruno and Tomás. About how I sometimes looked at them longer than necessary, about how my panties grew damp when Bruno bent down to pick something up from the floor and the bulge showed against his jeans.

I nodded without speaking.

Nicolás went first. He came over and kissed me on the mouth without asking permission, shoving his tongue deep inside and biting my lower lip until a whimper escaped me. I let him do it. His hands moved from my hips to my ass, squeezing it with both open palms, spreading my cheeks through my jeans as if I were already naked. The others laughed and took pictures, making filthy comments that reached me as if they were coming from very far away.

“We knew you were like this.”

“Look at her tits standing up under that shirt.”

“You’d been waiting for this since the first day, slut.”

“Look how this chick gets us going. I’ve already got a hard-on like a rock.”

Nicolás pressed me against the desk, ripped my shirt off in one pull, and dragged my bra down to my waist. My tits were exposed, my nipples hard from the cold and from something else I didn’t want to name. He sucked first one and then the other, mouth open, leaving my skin covered in saliva, while his free hand undid my jeans and slipped his fingers beneath my panties.

“She’s soaked, you sons of bitches,” he told the others, pulling out his glistening fingers and showing them off like a trophy. “The mare’s dripping, and we haven’t even done anything to her yet.”

I closed my eyes. This isn’t happening. I’m going to wake up any moment now. But his mouth on my skin was real, and my own pussy tightening around his fingers was even more real. He put in two, then three, moving them inside me with calculated violence, searching for a spot Mateo had never found. I arched against the desk despite myself.

“Kneel,” he ordered, pulling his fingers out abruptly and lowering his pants zipper. “I want you to suck me while looking me in the eye. And don’t let go until I tell you to.”

I did it. I knelt on the dusty floor, tits exposed and jeans fallen to my knees, and pulled down his briefs with both hands. He was hard and thick, the tip purple, a large drop of fluid shining on his glans. I took him in both hands, ran my tongue from his balls to the tip, and put the whole thing in my mouth without taking my eyes off his.

“That’s it, slut, just like that,” he growled, grabbing my bun and using my head like a handle. “Suck properly, with enthusiasm. Then you’ll have to suck the other four dicks.”

The others unbuttoned themselves too. Bruno pulled his cock out over his belt and pressed it to my cheek while I had Nicolás’s in my throat. Tomás moved to the other side, grabbing my hair and rubbing his glans over my lips. They began taking turns, one after another, in a choreography that seemed rehearsed. They passed me from one mouth to the next as if I were a toy being rotated.

“Look at her licking her lips.”

“Wipe all the spit off him. Leave her face a complete mess.”

“Shove it all the way in so she chokes a little.”

Nicolás thrust into my throat in one push and held himself there until my eyes filled with tears and saliva ran down my chin. When he let me go, I coughed and drew breath, and before I had recovered, Tomás’s was already inside me, thinner but longer, touching my uvula with every thrust.

“Hurry up. The drill ends in an hour,” Lucas said, grabbing my arm and hauling me to my feet. “I want to make you mine more than once.”

He turned me around over the desk. He planted his palm on the back of my neck and pushed me down until my elbows sank into a layer of dust. He pulled my jeans down to my thighs, ripped off my panties in a tug that burned the elastic against my hip, and showed them to me before slipping them into his pocket as a souvenir.

“Stick your ass up,” he said in my ear, spitting into my crack. “Don’t play dumb. You know perfectly well how this works.”

He spread my buttocks with both hands, ran the tip of his cock over my soaked pussy, and slammed into me in a single thrust, all the way to the hilt. I screamed against the wood. He gripped my hips and began fucking me with a brutal rhythm, pulling almost all the way out and driving back in to the balls while the desk scraped against the wall with every blow.

“What a tight pussy you have, slut,” he panted. “What a fucking pussy. No wonder Mateo won’t let you go.”

Bruno climbed onto the desk and sat in front of me, legs spread and cock aimed at my face. He grabbed the back of my neck and shoved himself into my mouth in the same rhythm Lucas was fucking me from behind. I was impaled between them, jerking like a rag doll, moaning around Bruno’s cock every time Lucas pounded into my depths.

“That’s going to make me come,” Bruno said hoarsely. “If you keep making those little noises, I’ll fill your throat.”

And he filled it. He shoved himself all the way back and came with a long groan, shooting stream after stream against my palate and forcing me to swallow without giving me time to breathe. I felt the semen sliding down my throat, warm and thick, and some of it escaped from the corner of my mouth and fell onto my tits. Behind me, Lucas sped up when he saw it.

“I’m going to fill your pussy, slut. Take it. I’m going to come inside you.”

He dug his fingers into my hips hard enough to leave marks and emptied himself inside me in three final thrusts, each deeper than the last. I felt the hot fluid painting me from within, his cock pulsing against my cervix, and despite the disgust, despite the fear, I came. My legs shook, my pussy clenched around him and milked out the last of him, and I collapsed over the desk with my mouth still open and dripping with semen.

“The bitch came,” Tomás laughed. “She came with Lucas’s cock inside her. Don’t act so dignified now.”

***

I’m not going to recount every detail of that afternoon. Not out of modesty, but because some images stayed burned into my mind while others were erased by my brain out of mercy. I remember the desk scraping against the wall with every thrust. I remember Bruno pressing himself against my face again so I could clean his cock with my tongue while I tried not to choke.

Above all, I remember my own voice asking them to stop. And I remember that at some point, I stopped asking.

Tomás laid me on my back across the desk, spread my legs, sank between them, and pushed inside while sucking my tits with a fury that left my nipples red. He fucked me slowly, pulling out to the tip and then burying himself again, watching me in the eyes, enjoying the humiliation as much as the sex.

“Say you like it,” he demanded, stopping with the glans barely resting against my entrance. “Say it or I’ll send the video to your boyfriend right now.”

“I like it,” I murmured.

“Louder.”

“I like it. I like the way you fuck me.”

“What do you like?”

“Having you put it in me. Having you fill my pussy. Having you treat me like a slut.”

He laughed and thrust all the way inside. Iván filmed everything with his phone held high, adjusting the angle so my face and the cock entering and leaving me could be seen at the same time. Nicolás, who had recovered already, settled beside me and guided my hand back to his now-hard cock, forcing me to masturbate him in time with Tomás fucking me.

“To stay here all afternoon,” he murmured. “All afternoon and all night.”

Tomás came across my stomach, shooting semen from my navel up to my tits, and spread it around with his swollen glans before getting down from the desk. Nicolás replaced him instantly, positioning himself between my legs and penetrating me without even cleaning away Lucas’s dripping come. He fucked me differently, more nervously, with short, rapid thrusts, squeezing my throat with one hand until I began seeing spots.

“Come for me, slut. Come again,” he panted. “Let them know you like it.”

And I came again. With his hand around my throat and his cock pounding me without pause, my face smeared and my hair stuck to my temples, I came moaning as I had never moaned with Mateo. Nicolás came inside me without warning, depositing another hot load between thrusts that shook my entire body.

Iván was the last to have his turn. He got behind me, forced me to kneel on the desk with my ass raised, spread my buttocks, and contemplated me like someone looking at a plated meal. Semen from the other three was dripping from my pussy, thick drops running down the insides of my thighs. He spread the fluid with two fingers, bringing it up to my asshole and pushing it inside with the pad of his thumb.

“Not my ass,” I begged. “I’m saving that for Mateo.”

“Mateo took too long,” he said with a calmness that was almost worse than the violence. “I would have done it to you in the second week.”

He pressed the tip of his cock against my asshole and pushed, patiently at first, then with a sharp thrust that made me howl against the desk. I lost my breath. I felt as if he were splitting me in two, burning me from the inside, filling my eyes with tears. He didn’t move for several seconds, letting me feel every inch installed in a place where no one had ever entered before.

“What a virgin little ass you had, slut,” he whispered in my ear. “What a waste.”

He began fucking my ass with sadistic slowness, gripping my hips, pulling all the way out and burying himself again to the balls. Each thrust tore a new moan from me, half pain and half something I didn’t want to admit. After a while, the pain subsided and became something else, something dense, something forbidden that rose from inside me and made me squeeze my ass around him despite myself.

“Look at this bitch. She’s getting used to it,” Iván growled. “She’s starting to enjoy it.”

He sped up. He dug his fingers into my hip and fucked my ass with increasingly brutal thrusts until he came inside me with a roar, filling me with semen in a place where I had never imagined feeling it warm. When he pulled out, a thick thread ran down the inside of my thigh.

Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes that lasted years. Then they took turns again. And again. And again. They fucked me two at a time, one in my mouth and another in my pussy, another in my ass and another in my mouth, until I lost count of the orgasms and the hands. At some point, they took an aerosol deodorant from my own purse and shoved it into my pussy while Lucas fucked my ass, until I screamed and begged them to take it out. Four guys turning me into their doll, their revenge for something I hadn’t known I owed them.

When they finished, they were out of energy and saliva. They let me get dressed in silence, my jeans sticky and my torn panties tucked into Lucas’s pocket. Iván showed me the screen and deleted the video in front of me, file by file. We left the forgotten classroom, and the faculty was operating normally. No one had heard anything. No one had come looking for us.

***

I suspended the workshop for two months. I told Mateo I was tired, that I needed a break. He didn’t ask many questions, and that was almost the worst part.

When I returned, they were still enrolled. I knew it as soon as I entered the classroom. I waited for the group to leave, for the clock to strike eight, for the basement to empty. Iván and Nicolás stayed behind.

They cornered me against the blackboard and showed me the photos on the phone’s screen.

“We have copies,” Iván said with a serenity that no longer surprised me. “We were always going to have them.”

That afternoon I had worn the denim skirt. The one that got them hot. The one I no longer pretended anything about. Underneath, I wore a black thong Mateo didn’t know about. Iván noticed it as soon as he lifted my skirt against the blackboard, and smiled from the corner of his mouth.

“The mare came prepared,” he said, running his hand over Nicolás’s ass. “She came knowing what was going to happen.”

They knelt me between them, each with his cock out, and I sucked them without being forced. I sucked both of them at the same time, holding one in each hand, alternating my mouth from one to the other, looking up at them from below with eyes that were no longer pretending anything. Then they fucked me over the desk, Iván in front while I sucked Nicolás’s cock, then they switched and penetrated me both at once, Iván in my pussy and Nicolás in my ass, holding me between them like a hammock of flesh. We stayed until dawn in the back classroom. They brought a dildo and used it in my pussy while taking turns fucking my ass. I brought a bottle of water and the silent promise that it would be the last time.

It wasn’t the last time. But it was the last day of the workshop at the School of Arts and Letters. After that I devoted myself to other things, other places, other men. And always, one way or another, I ended up in some similar situation.

I told myself many times that I was a victim. I also told myself, on the nights when I couldn’t sleep, that there was a part of me that had been waiting for the drill from the very first day. Both things can be true. I learned that over the years, when I stopped fighting with that part of myself and began searching for it.

I never told Mateo. We haven’t been together for three years.