Saturday came fast.

The house smelled different this time—cleaner, like they’d scrubbed every surface, lit candles that smelled faintly of cedar and sex. The main room was transformed again: blankets and pillows in the center, but now ringed with three tripods holding actual cameras (one wide, two for close-ups), soft ring lights casting golden glows on my skin. A small monitor sat off to the side so I could see what was being captured. Someone had even run extension cords for extra outlets—professional as fuck for a bunch of frat guys.

Twenty brothers waited, naked or nearly, cocks already hard, stroking slowly. They looked at me like I was their...