A house full of horny, self-centered frat boys and copious amounts of alcohol is a recipe for disaster… A local fraternity house has hired my cleaning service. Late-night parties will turn that otherwise beautiful mansion into a pigsty, and these guys have no intentions of cleaning up after themselves. Typical rich frat boys, expecting women to clean up after them while they play beer pong in the middle of the day. In their eyes, we exist solely for one of two reasons: sex or to be their mother without shaming them for their actions. But cashing in on their mess is only one of the reasons I accepted this gig. I can’t wait to hear about how they use women for pleasure, only to dispose of them like yesterday’s trash. Once they meet Elvis, the most realistic toy I own, the tables will be turned. Instead of laughing at sorority sluts taking the walk of shame, they’ll be the ones walking in shame out of The Dungeons. By the time I’m done with these so-called men, their little frat boy escapades will look like child’s play. Because once they cross the threshold into my chamber, they won’t be able to go back to their old, misogynistic ways.