Introduction Ch. 08byAriel797©
Spring break was over, but most students weren't ready to study just yet. Dr. Bloomfeld had given me a present at Christmas, a really nice clit piercing. I hadn't been sure if I would like it, but Jason ordered it, and Bloomfeld did such a nice job. The metal rode the length of the nerve in my clit, a vertical piercing, and sometimes I would remove one of the little balls on the end and add one of the attachments Bloomfeld or Jason had given me.
Right now, I was wearing one that Bloomfeld had given me, little fine chains that were on a small metal ball that screwed onto the top of the clit bar, so that the little chains dangled down and flicked back and forth under my skirt when I walked; no panties, of course, so there was plenty of flicking. I was constantly aware of the metal bar, and it felt good, and the ends of the tiny fine chains continually tingled against my clit as I moved. Running lightly up and down stairs felt very good.
And who wants to study now? It's warm and it's spring, flowers are blooming, I could be at the beach -- who wants to study or be in class?
I asked Eric and Richard this at lunch in the cafeteria. I was poking at whatever was on my plate. I'm not sure what it was. I finally pushed it back and told them about my clit piercing.
"Cool!" said Richard. "Can I see?"
"Sure!" I'm always willing to show. But I trust these two; they're fun to play with.
We dropped off our trays and went to one of the older buildings. Nobody was in the hallways, and we found a women's bathroom. I peeked; nobody was inside.
"Come on!" I waved my hand at the guys. They dashed in, Eric putting an "Out of Order" sign on the door. We locked it.
One of the windows were open. It was an old bathroom, with the thick glass frosted, and at the very top of the room. Nobody could see in. We dropped our books on a ledge.
"So, this is the girls' bathroom," Eric said. He was leaning against the wall, watching. I grinned and pulled up my skirt.
"Awesome," breathed Richard, leaning down for a closer look. "Can I touch?"
His finger ran slowly along the little metal ball at the top of the rod, fingered the chains a little, then ran down my clit. I shivered. His finger finished at the small knob at the end of the rod. He looked up at Eric, sitting back on his haunches.
"You know, we could have some fun with this."
Eric crossed his arms. "How?"
"Ok, ok, I mean -- what do you mean? What're you planning?"
Richard bit his lip. "You have that new videocam..."
Cut to the three of us back in that same bathroom, a little later, Eric setting up a tripod "to keep it steady." The guys were going to wear ski masks. Each of us had a backpack with a change of clothes.
"Um, aren't you going to get hot?" I asked. They finally cut off the bottom half of the masks. Hopefully the yarn wouldn't unravel too quickly.
I was going to wear a blindfold. First, we filmed the two masked college boys, bringing in a helpless, struggling blindfolded college girl into a darkened bathroom. (Eric had turned off the light and shut the window.) My wrists were tied. Eric filmed Richard holding me over Richard's shoulder, turning slowly to show that my skirt, always short anyway, had hiked up. Eric got a really good shot of my bare bottom perked up over Richard's shoulder; Richard smacked my bottom and rubbed it, grinning into the camera, the top half of his face and his hair hidden. I squealed, and he smacked my bottom again. Eric stopped the camera and had Richard put me down. They untied my wrists; I took off my blouse, then my bra, then put my blouse back on.
I stood there while Eric inspected me, walking around. He faced me again.
"Ummm. Ok, how about -- " he grabbed my blouse and yanked it apart. Two buttons flew off and hit the wall. I giggled. "Better." He grinned under his half of a mask. Richard lifted me onto his shoulder again, Eric adjusted my blouse. I was wearing my nipple rings, and the material felt cool and erotic on my bare skin.
So, filming again: Poor poor struggling college girl is brought into the dark bathroom over the shoulder of a masked brute. Cut to brute's back, college girl's wrists tied as she struggles, blindfolded and gagged. The gag had been Eric's idea. Her breasts are nearly exposed through her torn blouse.
Now to front of brute, and close up of struggling girl's naked bottom just barely visible under the short skirt. Brute (Richard) now pushes up skirt, leering into the camera. He smacks my bottom, then rubs it. I squeal and struggle. He strokes my bottom again, smacking it. Eric and Richard laugh evilly. I struggle.
A few minutes with a screwdriver had removed the old doors and partitions on the three stalls, so that all that was left was a big metal frame. It was perfect.
It was a little warm in the room, but comfy. While the camera was stopped, we set up the next scene. The two masked brutes had tied the beautiful college girl to the frame, spreadeagle, standing upright. Her torn blouse was still partly tucked into her skirt; the skirt was short enough to see that she wore thigh-hi hose, the white delicate lacey ones I liked so much, and black pumps. Ok, trite, but it worked for me. I was excited.
Eric and Richard worked with the ropes until they were satisfied with the look. I made sure that the ropes really were tied well, so I couldn't move. Otherwise, I would have tugged them loose, and it wouldn't have looked, or felt, dangerous. They agreed. They had wedged an old wooden chair under the doorknob as a safety precaution.
So: In the frame of the missing doorway in the middle stall, I'm standing. My arms are raised up very high overhead for that nice stretch I love so much, each wrist tied outward and up. Below, each ankle tied outward to the base of a frame for what used to hold doors and partitions. Without the partitions, Eric and Richard could move freely back and forth.
Now back to the filming.
The struggling college girl in the old dark bathroom is tied spreadeagle, standing up, between the frames. She pulls and tugs. She is blindfolded and gagged. She whimpers when one of the two college boys, masked, puts his hand in her blouse and squeezes a breast. Another college boy speaks softly to one side, his hand sliding up her leg. Her head turns, following his voice. She shakes her head "no," and "no" again. They ignore her.
The taller one (Richard) can be seen rubbing his crotch, and then he rubs against her hip. She squeals and tries to pull away, but the other man, (Eric), slimmer, laughs. He nuzzles her neck with her mouth. He pulls her blouse out of her skirt, slowly, and pulls one side of the blouse open, revealing her right breast. She shakes her head no, no, very hard, but his hand keeps moving, holding her breast, squeezing a little. His thumb flicks her nipple ring up, then lets it flop down.
Richard is panting, rubbing and pressing his crotch against my thigh. "What's under this?" he whispers, and his hand goes under my skirt, feeling. I moan against the cloth in my mouth. He looks across at Eric, and I will later see for myself all of these looks, and whispers, "I think I found something interesting."
Eric unzips my skirt, slowly, and you can hear nothing in the room but me whimpering, the boys breathing heavily, and the slow creaking noise as the zipper slides down and the skirt band loosens. Outside in the distance is the sound of a lawnmower somewhere on campus. The zipper stops. Eric looks at Richard, then hooks a thumb into my loose skirt band, and pulls down. I squeal and shake my head, hard, "No! No!" but they laugh and tug at the skirt. It stops midway down my legs, of course, held there because my legs have been tied wide in an inverted V. Eric pulls out his pocketknife and rips it down the material, and the only sound is that ripping noise, and I moan. They pull off the remnants of the skirt and toss them aside, and I am naked from the waist down, except for the hose and the heels. A tiny gold chain is around my waist, glistening and picking up the small amount of light in the room. Eric, or maybe Richard, then both, smooth their hands down my belly, my thighs, dipping in. I shake my head "no!" and pull and tug at the ropes, but they hold. They hold.
I feel fingers rubbing me, rubbing on the clit piercing. My head is back and my hips are forward a little.
In one fast jerk, Eric rips my blouse with his hands, then uses his pocketknife, tearing, ripping, shredding the blouse, until all of that is gone, too, and I am tied there between the posts in the old room, naked and helpless, blind, gagged, their hands touching me. They're enjoying it, and they tell me later that they liked it because they hadn't played with me when I was tied that much. They enjoy it, and they like the power of it. It seems to make Richard more aggressive, and Eric a little crueler and bolder.
They pinch my nipples. They roll them between their fingers, one standing on each side of me so the camera has a good view. A hand comes between my legs, lifting up a little. I hear Richard, heavy panting, a harsh whisper that I almost don't recognize, and he's saying things in a way he's never said before, and I'm excited.
I hear his belt sliding out of the loops, I hear him unzipping his pants. I know the camera is filming him, showing his cock springing out, ready.
I don't know the belt is coming at me until I feel its sting against the inside of my thigh, and I jump and squeal for real. The belt swinger is good. I think it might be Eric, but I'm not sure now. They both seem a little -- different with the masks, the blindfold, the gag.
The belt catches me between the legs, flicking up, and I'm saying "Mmm Unnn unnnnggg" over and over, keening. A hand is in my hair, twisted in it, pulls my head back, and a hand is rough on my breasts, a mouth on one nipple, a hand on my other breast, squeezing roughly. They are getting rough with me, and I am tied and helpless, and the camera films on.
They move the camera at one point to the side a little, and Richard is harsh with his voice now, and louder, more aggressive, and he's telling me, "You want this, I know you want it. Say you want it" and now I feel his hands on my bottom, squeezing hard, harder. He's rough, and he grinds against my pussy, not entering me, just grinding and digging his fingers into my bottom, jerking me against him, pulling at my bonds. "SAY IT!" he growls, and I moan and shake my head "Yes" and try to say it, but can't through the cloth.
"You'd better say it," he growls again, angry, and this is not a Richard I know now. "Say it, or I'm gonna hurt you," and I try again to say "Yes" but it does not sound clear. He leans back a little and squats slightly, then pushes up into me very fast and hard, lifting me up off the floor a little, and I squeal. It does hurt a little, and his fingers are gouging into the flesh of my bottom, and he's crooning, "OH yeah, yeah, I knew you wanted it, you want me in you, don't you, flashing your pussy all day where I can see it, not letting me touch -- well, touch THIS" and he jerks and thrusts into me hard and fast, and I am almost like a puppet, tied to my strings, unable to get away, and he is piercing me and digging deeper into me than maybe anyone has before, and it hurts a little but more, more than that -- it feels GOOD. I moan and shudder.
"Yeaaah I knew it, I knew you were a slut, aren't you?" he grunts, and I nod and my head flops back again, and I arch into him. He finishes and wipes his cock on my belly. "Yeah," he says, panting. "You liked that, didn't you."
I'm shuddering and trembling a little, and Eric's voice whispers in my ear, but loud enough for the camera, "and now I'm really gonna hurt you," and I feel the belt again on my pussy, hard, smack! and smack again. He's fast, and he's letting the end of the belt loose, to flick up and slightly into me. I kick at the ropes a little, but they hold.
"Yeah, we should bring the whole football team in here," Richard says from somewhere else in the room, and I moan. Eric smacks the leather strip against the insides of my thighs, over and over, now against my clit, then against my belly. I moan and yell out against the cloth, struggling for real. The belt finds my hips, while my thighs and pussy ache for more. He stops for a moment, and I whimper, wanting more. He laughs. I feel the belt go around my waist, and he threads it through the metal buckle, holding the loose end in a fist. He pulls the belt tight, and pulls me toward him a little, and I am stretched tight against the ropes on my wrists and ankles.
And now, when he uses the belt around my waist to pull me up against him, I realize, he's naked, or at least, from the waist down. I feel a quick flicker of cloth and realize he's wearing his shirt, unbuttoned I see later, flapping as he jerks and swings the belt.
But now, at this moment, he has used the belt looped around my waist, to pull me up against his cock and his hips. His hand pulls the belt tighter. "I could squeeze you so tight," he says, and one hand holds my back, his fingers going down towards the top of my rear. He uses that hand to press me against him even more. I wait, quivering.
"I think this slut needs more," he says over his shoulder. Richard grunts, watching.
The belt loosens, I move back, then the belt is removed, and Eric steps away and I feel a loss. He pulls the belt up between my legs, lifting up, a hand on each side of me. "Ride it," he says, and lifts up until it digs into me, presses my clit and the piercing and its rod, up between my legs, and he slides the belt back and forth. It feels so good. I moan. He leans forward and bites a nipple, hard, and I yell, but I arch my back and try, hard, to open my legs more.
He laughs. "Look at her. She wants it." The belt snaps hard against my pussy again, and I gasp. At the same time I still feel the sting, he grabs my waist and shoves into me, rough, hard.
"You like being used, don't you" he grunts, and doesn't even see that I'm nodding my head vigorously. I moan and pant and push against him in a rhythm, bucking up to meet him, and he fucks me.
Later, we went to my place and the three of us took a shower together, and we watched the film. Later still, at my suggestion, they took it to their fraternity for a party, and the guys loved it.
Much later, I sent a copy of it to my uncle, Jason.