Chapter 3
Laura
I am in class trying to concentrate. It’s impossible.
My body is still responding to everything that happened last night.
I should be exhausted, but I don’t feel tired at all.
I feel invigorated, maybe slightly afraid.
What happened to me was wrong, but every time my mind drifts back to the memory of it all, I feel a tingle running through my clit.
My pussy throbs from time to time with an ache that’s going to stay for a while, I think. He wasn’t so rough with me that I am in actual pain, but I can certainly feel the effects of his dominant lovemaking.
Weird to call it that even in my mind. How could it have been love when he simply took me because he wanted me. I don’t know him. He doesn’t know me. I was a victim.
“Miss Brown,” Professor Rollins says, his voice cutting through my reverie. “What are three signs of a disordered personality?”
“Um…”
The entire class is looking at me. I try to get my head back in the game.
Usually I love it when I get called on in class.
I always get the answers right because I study super hard.
I come into class early to review the material before it’s even taught most days.
I didn’t get to do that today, but this is kind of a softball question.
“An unstable or absent sense of self?”
“That’s one, yes.”
“Fear of abandonment?”
“That can depend. Fear of abandonment is one of the most primal and elemental fears a human can experience. People with personality disorders can experience this more often and more intensely, so yes, it’s a diagnostic criteria.”
“Being unable to trust?”
“Yes, that can be another one,” he says. “There are many traits associated with various disorders. What I want you all to notice is how many of them overlap with baseline human experience. It’s a matter of degree, and it is why we believe these conditions can be treated…”
He keeps talking, and I let my mind wander again.
I’m not really listening to the content of his words.
I don’t know that I can manage to focus that well right now.
I let his voice wash over me. He speaks with an East Coast accent.
Sort of New York. He’s from Boston originally, but he’s travelled the world.
Sometimes he sounds even a little Midwest. When he talks about Freud and Jung, he slips into a German kind of accent.
It makes the class feel a lot more interactive, but right now nothing could engage me.
I have a few other classes. I’m not sure I take anything in for any of them. I end up at the library, studying for an English Lit test. It’s quiet, and I’ve picked a floor and a corner where nobody else is.
I notice my hand is down between my legs, sliding beneath my skirt.
I didn’t think about doing it, it just happened.
My finger is stroking over my underwear, rubbing the gusset of my panties against my tender pussy lips.
He fucked me and he came in me, and I know his cum is still inside me.
Possibly making me pregnant. I could take a Plan B, but if I’m already ovulating, which I think I am, it’s too fucking late.
My finger slides underneath my underwear. I’m wet. Thinking about how I was used last night is making me aroused. I slide my finger up and start playing with my clit, echoing the same motions the intruder made last night.
I am completely immersed in my own pleasure when someone steps up behind me. A hand reaches around my neck, fingers brushing against my throat lightly as a deep English accent purrs in my ear.
“Come to the bathroom.”
I turn around, but all I see is the back of a tall, broad-shouldered man’s head as he walks away.
My heart is hammering from excitement and also shock.
I didn’t know I wasn’t alone. Did he see what I was doing?
Does he know I was touching myself thinking about him?
The hair on the back of my neck rises as I realize he must have been following me for a while.
I should pack up my things and leave, but what would that do? He’d follow me again, and when he caught me again—and he would—it would be worse. He didn’t threaten me with that consequence, but he didn’t have to.
I should run. I should go to the police. I should find an adult I trust.
I get up from the desk, and I go to the bathroom. It’s not very far from the table I chose, behind a stack of old books. I push the door open. There are two doors beyond that. One for men, one for women.
I go into the women’s bathroom.
And that’s the last choice I make for quite a while.
My stalker grabs me by the wrist, pulls me into a stall, pushes me face first up against the wall, shoves my underwear to the side, and thrusts his cock inside me. From the moment I walked into the bathroom to the moment I start getting fucked, it’s less than thirty seconds.
“Did you think you could hide here in the library and I wouldn’t find you? There’s nowhere you can go that I won’t find you and use this tight little pussy,” he purrs in my ear.
“I wasn’t hiding. I was trying to study.”
“It didn’t look to me like you were doing much studying,” he says, kicking my legs apart a little more and pulling my hips out to make me bend over for the fucking.
I don’t say anything in response to his accusation. I know there’s no point lying.
“I thought you might have been traumatized after last night. I didn’t think you’d be playing with yourself in a public place the next day,” he says. “You really are a surprising little thing.”
He pushes deep inside me with a long, slow, deliberate thrust designed to make me feel every inch of not only him, but the humiliation of being caught out enjoying my own degradation and use.
For a few minutes, he holds me there and fucks me slowly. I whimper occasionally as my pussy struggles to take his thick cock so soon after our last encounter. He soothes me by kissing the back of my neck and murmuring to me, telling me what a good girl I am.
“Such a sweet little fuck pet,” he praises. “Look at how much you love being fucked. I’m almost sorry I took so long to come to you. You were obviously in dire need of being bred, weren’t you?”
I surrender to the madness of the moment, arching my ass out to meet him as he fucks me. I feel a little safer here in the real world. This is not the dark privacy of my bedroom. This is a college bathroom. I can’t be hurt here, I tell myself.
Smack!
His palm makes sharp contact with my cheek.
“Ow!” I gasp in shock and pain. “What was that for?”
“I asked you a question,” he growls. “Didn’t I? I asked you if you needed to be bred.”
“Yes,” I moan as he pulls out, holding the thick head of his cock right at the entrance of my pussy. “I… fuck… please don’t make me say these things. Isn’t it enough that you’re using me?”
“It’s never going to be enough when it comes to you,” he says. “I’m always going to want more. I’m always going to need everything you have to give. Do you understand me?”
He pushes into my soaked pussy, and we both hear the wet sound my body makes as it welcomes him deep inside me.
Just at the moment I want him to really fuck me hard, the bathroom door opens. Adrenaline shoots through me as he covers my mouth with his hand and holds me tight.
“Not a word, baby,” he murmurs, giving me a few shallow thrusts while the girl takes one of the other stalls and pees.
I can’t believe I am letting this happen to me. I am simply being used, and he is keeping his bare cock deep inside me as he makes me wait to continue being fucked.
He moves inside me a little, drawing out a fraction of an inch and pushing back in again, keeping that hand over my mouth as he plays with my clit with the other hand. It is so hard not to make a noise as I am publicly claimed.
She spends longer at the mirror than I wish she would. Fixing her makeup or something, probably. She has no idea I’m stuck in here, impaled on a stranger’s cock, craving the fucking he’s going to give me the second she is gone.
My tormentor makes it worse by rolling my clit between his fingers, clamping my mouth shut even harder with his hand as I try to make little noises of excitement.
Finally she goes, and it is just the two of us again.
“You’re soaking,” he tells me. “You love this. Everything about this excites you. You’re a hungry little thing, desperate for my cock.”
He pulls out and turns me around. I think for a second I might see his face, but he has that smooth balaclava on again, and we are only eye to eye for a second before he pushes me down to my knees and guides his cock into my mouth.
He holds my head between both his hands and simply fucks my mouth. I can taste my pussy and his pre-cum. I can feel the ache between my thighs, the yearning for his cock to return.
“I thought you were going to fight me,” he says. “But you’re desperate for someone to take control of you, aren’t you. You want to be fucked, you maybe want to be bred, but more than anything you just want someone else to be in charge for once, don’t you?”
Oh, he really knows me too well. It feels like he just reached deep inside me and pulled out one of the secrets I wanted to stay hidden forever.
I do everything for myself. I work hard to put myself through school. My mom can’t help me. I have six younger siblings at home, and I was lucky to be able to make enough to afford tuition for this school. My dad left when I was too small to remember him.
And now my mouth is wrapped around the thick cock of a man who speaks softly and does rough, terrible things to me whether I want them or not. He can feel that wound in me, he can sense the weakness, and he is taking full advantage of it.
“You’re doing so well sucking my cock, baby,” he says, switching to praise.