Wild College Nights Ch. 04byLionheart72©
"I'm afraid," Derrick said softly as he buttoned his neat black shirt.
"Of Ashton?" Amber's gentle eyes studied the reflection of her master's face. The petite blonde coed lay comfortably sprawled on the bed, watching Derrick as he dressed.
"Of what he'll do to Becky and Liz," Derrick admitted. "I should have warned them. I should have stopped them."
"From what you've told me," Amber sighed, "you did try to stop them. Though it might have been better to tell them the truth instead of just ordering them around. You must have known Becky wouldn't respond well to that."
"The truth?" Derrick scoffed. "I should have told them that John Ashton is a psychic vampire who feeds on pain, humiliation and despair? That he's already destroyed at least one girl?"
"Well," Amber rolled over to lay on her back, "I might have gone with 'abusive son of a bitch' or maybe just 'rapist' and left out all the supernatural clap-trap."
"Supernatural clap-trap?" Derrick growled, his voice resonant with strength and menace.
Amber moaned, her body suddenly quivering. Breathing in ragged, uneven gasps, the blonde coed fought to regain control of herself.
"Just because you can do That," she said when she could finally catch her breath, "doesn't make you some kind of warlock, and just because Ashton taught you how to do it doesn't give him power over you."
Amber lithely pulled herself from the bed and came to stand behind her master, resting her hands on her his shoulders. She could feel the angry tension in his body.
"He only has the power you choose to give him." Amber said gently.
"When did you get so wise?" Derrick asked, favoring his lover with a fleeting smile.
"I've always been like this," Amber teased and added, with sudden gravity, "Don't mistake submissive for weak, Derrick. I think you, and Ashton, will find your lovely Liz is tougher than you think."
"Honestly," Derrick replied, "it's not Liz I'm worried about."
"Oh god," Becky muttered, struggling with the laces of her borrowed corset, "why am I doing this again?
"Mostly to get back at Derrick," Liz said with a teasing smile, "for giving you the best orgasm you've ever had."
"No!" Becky snapped, flushing red.
"Sweetie, you passed out," Liz teased. "You had a total, out of body orgasmic experience. I can't decide if I'm jealous of what he did to you or jealous that he didn't do it to me."
Liz smiled as her lover's face grew distant and dreamy. It was one of those rare moments, Liz thought, when she saw the real Becky. Most of the time the younger coed was too wrapped up in the laundry list of expectations put on her by the world, worried about her grades, her job, her friends and society's demands. She worried her breasts were too small, her ass was too big, her hair or clothes or shoes weren't just right. She worried what people thought about her relationship with Liz and desperately tried to define it in some way that made her confused feelings acceptable. Sometimes, in rare moments of passion or clarity or simple relaxation, Liz could see Becky set down those burdens and simply live, being herself without needing to define exactly what that meant. It was the Becky she saw in those moments who Liz loved.
"Now, finish getting dressed," Liz purred, "so we can go to my art teacher's party and have outrageously kinky sex."
The door of Professor Ashton's townhouse slid open on Becky's second knock.
"Well, look who it is," Caitlyn purred. The dominatrix was dressed in a short, red silk robe decorated with oriental patterns. Other than the high red heels, she didn't seem to be wearing anything else. Her spiky black hair crowned her head, sharply contrasting with her pale skin.
Caitlyn gave Becky a tight smile as she held the door open, and Becky grinned viciously back as she stepped into the house, Liz following lightly at her heels.
Letting the door shut behind them, Caitlyn turned and gave the pair a frankly appraising look. As she hung up her coat, Becky stared defiantly back. She refused to feel self-conscious in front of this woman, though it took some effort. The tight black stretch pants Liz had insisted she wear clung to every curve, leaving nothing to the imagination. The tight corset Becky had borrowed cradled her pert breasts, and she was sure her nipples could be seen through the thin white fabric of her blouse. Becky thought she might as well have just come naked, and she still felt more dressed than Liz. Under her coat, Liz wore a sheer lace bra that completely exposed her full, round breasts, and an equally sheer wrap was tied around her bare hips. Her only other clothing was the black collar Becky had given her, cinched around her neck.
Caitlyn's tight smile spread into a lazy grin. "You two just look delicious. I'm so glad you could come."
"Thanks," Becky replied curtly, trying without much success to reign in her seething dislike of the red-clad dominatrix. She'd only met the woman once, at the BDSM club, but had disliked her instantly, and none of the events of that night had changed that first impression.
For a moment, the two young women simply stared at each other. The sound of footsteps from the hall almost echoed in the uncomfortable silence as two figures emerged from a side room.
"Oh," Caitlyn purred, "here are my boys. You remember Toy."
Caitlyn gestured at the tall, powerfully built black man who stepped to her side. The college football player wore only tight black pants which, as revealing as Becky's, clung to every muscular curse and considerable bulge. A spiked collar encircled his neck. He glared briefly at Becky, then lowered his eyes, standing in stoic silence at his mistress's side.
"And this is my new Pet," Caitlyn continued, gesturing at the second man.
"Gary!" Becky gaped at the sight of her ex-boyfriend. Gary, former friend and lover to both Becky and Liz, stood sheepishly, dressed in tight jeans and a loose white shirt.
"Oh, hi Gary," Liz said brightly.
"Hi, Beck," Gary mumbled, averting his eyes. "Hey, Liz."
"Oh, you've met my Pet," Caitlyn purred, cutting him off. "Well, this should be fun."
Furiously, Becky drew in breath to tear into the little bitch dominatrix, but before she could, a deep, resonant voice cut her off and left her gasping.
"Of course it will be fun." John Ashton's commanding voice seemed to fill the hall like a physical presence. "This is a night for pleasure."
Turning, Becky regarded the art professor. He was a tall, handsome older man, his hair touched with grey. He was wearing a black robe, tied around his waist with a silk cord and open enough to reveal his thick grey chest hair. A black hood covered his head and a white mask concealed the upper half of his face. He held a heavy-looking cat o' nine tails in his hand, gently stroking the leather thongs. The appearance of occult sexuality should have been comic, but somehow it wasn't. Frankly, Becky thought it was creepy as hell.
With a start Becky realized there was another person standing just behind Ashton, wearing the same type of white mask and hooded black robe and holding two wine glasses. A woman, Becky realized when she saw the curves of large, slightly sagging breasts. The masked woman regarded Becky with unreadable eyes.
"Um, hello professor," Becky stammered slightly, ignoring Caitlyn's snicker. "Thank you for inviting us."
"Yes, thank you," Liz echoed in a sultry voice.
"Oh, no," Ashton voice seemed to stroke Becky, thrilling her. "Thank you, my dears. I'm so glad you could both be here tonight."
Ashton looked at her, and Becky felt suddenly stripped bare. His eyes didn't just examine every curve of her body; they seemed to devour her. She could almost feel his gaze caressing her legs, teasing between them, stroking her belly and brushing over her hardening nipples. That strange gaze flitted over her lips but never, she realized, rose to her eyes or even really looked at her face. Instead, he turned his eyes to Liz. Glancing over at her lover, Becky watched Liz quivering under Ashton's gaze. Liz's breath quickened, her nipples hardened and she sighed. Becky was distantly aware that the whole hall had fallen silent. Even Caitlyn seemed entranced.
"Your drink," the masked woman said in a soft voice. Becky blinked, realizing that the woman was holding out one of the wine glasses. Shaking herself, Becky took the glass and tried to cover her embarrassment by taking a deep drink.
"Thanks," Becky said as she lowered the glass. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."
"No, dear," the woman said as she handed a glass to Liz. "You don't. But you may call me Masque if you like."
"Masque?" Becky asked.
"That's right," the woman, Masque, said, ignoring Becky's real question.
"Come along, my dears," Ashton said with a smile. "We mustn't keep the others waiting."
"Others?" Liz asked, taking a quick gulp of wine.
"The Watchers are waiting in the other room," Ashton replied. "We'll go in now. Liz, you will come with me. Becky, go with Caitlyn and Masque."
Firmly, before Becky could think to say anything, Ashton had locked his hand around Liz's arm and pulled her along with him. Toy stepped quickly behind her, his large body completely blocking the smaller brunette from Becky's view.
Masque and Caitlyn, the red dominatrix now sporting a red mask of her own, crowded around Becky, guiding her with gentle but firm pushes through the wide doors at the end of the hall.
Liz wasn't entirely sure what was going on, apart from the obvious. Professor Ashton and Toy had escorted her into a luxuriously appointed room. Thick carpets covered the floor. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with books and separated by the occasional piece of sensual looking erotic art. Antique chairs and couches made a semicircle around two large, low tables.
At least a half-dozen figures in black robes, all hooded and masked like Ashton, had been roaming around the room. As the professor entered, their quiet conversations had stopped and they had moved to take their seats. Off to the side, Liz saw Becky wedged between Caitlyn and the strange woman, Masque, being drawn down onto one of the larger couches. Gary stood behind Becky, looking dazed.
Liz wondered what Gary was even doing here. She couldn't make sense of it. It was very confusing and, she realized suddenly, she was having a hard time thinking. I only had one glass of wine, Liz thought, shaking her head, I can't be drunk yet. Ashton was saying something and she tried to focus on that.
"So, I give you Liz," the professor was saying. "This lovely young coed so enjoyed flashing her panties, and finally her pussy, at me in class that I just had to sample her. I can assure you, she is a delight."
As he spoke, the professor moved to stand behind Liz. His hands roamed up and down her body, caressing her arms and her belly. She could feel the soft fabric of his robe against her back and, underneath it, the firmness of his dick brushing against her ass.
"I'm sure," Ashton continued, "that we will all enjoy her performance tonight."
Liz wondered what performance she was expected to give. It occurred to her, as the professor untied her wrap and let it fall to the floor, that she was probably about to get fucked. Liz smiled, thinking they probably would enjoy watching that. Ashton deftly unsnapped her bra, pushing the straps down. Liz quickly shrugged the white straps down her arms, letting it drop. She stood proudly naked in the front of the Watchers.
"Liz," Ashton stepped away from her, his face expressionless, "go and kneel on the table."
Smiling slightly, feeling oddly dreamy and comfortable, Liz did as she was told. Kneeling on the low, heavy table, she faced the masked Watchers with her head high and her back slightly arched to thrust her full breasts forward. There was a sharp crack and Liz cried out as sudden pain flared across her back.
"Lower your eyes," Ashton commanded fiercely.
A second blow followed and then a third, as Liz quickly adjusted her posture. Her back stung furiously and she gasped softly, panting as she tried to get a handle on the discomfort. Slowly she steadied herself and drew herself up again, her face still demurely lowered.
Another sharp crack filled the room. Lines of pain marked themselves against her back and Liz cried out again. More blows followed in a steady, furious rain of pain. With each blow, Liz shrieked. The pain filled her and she pitched forward, catching herself on her hands. The blows stopped but in her haze of pain, Liz didn't realize it at first.
"Stop," Liz whispered. "It's too much."
"You like that, don't you, my dear," Ashton growled.
Liz shook her head, denying his words, but even as she did she felt the heat from her back seem to spread over her body, kindling other feelings. Her nipples hardened as her breasts shook with each panting breath. Her pussy felt warm and wet with growing passion.
"Oh gods," Liz moaned.
"What the hell is he doing to her," Becky said, hardly noticing the slur of her words.
"He's whipping her, of course," Masque replied with a soft chuckle, while her hands agilely continued to loosen the laces of Becky's corset.
Becky wanted to object, but she wasn't quite sure to what. Certainly, Ashton seemed to whipping Liz a bit hard and really, why was he doing it at all. Liz was Becky's sub, after all. Shouldn't she be the one beating Liz... and maybe after that, Liz could eat her until she came, screaming and moaning... while all these strange masked people watched. No, that didn't seem right either. After all, unlike Liz, Becky wasn't entirely comfortable getting naked in a room full of strangers, much less having sex in front of them.
Of course, that was the other thing she felt like she should really object to. Masque was certainly taking some liberties, unlacing her corset like that. And Caitlyn really shouldn't have pulled Becky's blouse down, exposing her breasts to everyone. Though Caitlyn's hands did feel very nice as they played with her nipples. Then there was Gary. Really, what was Gary doing here at all? Hadn't he broken up with her? She was sure he had. So really, he shouldn't have been kneeling there between Becky's legs like that. Though he had always done a wonderful job massaging her thighs, like he was now, and his hot breath was just tantalizing on that wet spot between them. Those stretch pants were just ridiculous, Becky thought. She could plainly see the folds of her wet pussy through the fabric. Why wear anything?
"Oooo," Becky sighed as Caitlyn ceased to fondle her breasts.
The red dom's hands guided Becky into lifting her arms up over her head. The corset quickly followed, passing over her head and disappearing before Becky was really clear on what was happening. Even as she tried to gather her thoughts to object, her blouse followed.
That, she thought, was really just too much. Sitting there topless, she could feel the eyes of the masked strangers on her naked breasts. She tried to cover them with her hands, but Caitlyn and Masque were in her way.
"Ahhhh, yes... that's nice," Becky sighed as their lips and tongues glided over her pert cones and teased her hard nipples. She gasped and jumped as someone, Caitlyn she thought, bit down hard. Becky tried to struggle, but the two women were firmly holding her down even as they sucked and nipped at her breasts.
In the midst of it all, she felt strong hands grab at the waistband of her ridiculous stretch pants. Try as she might, she simply couldn't seem to do anything to stop Gary from inexorably dragging the tight fabric down her legs. Well, she thought, at least those are gone. They had been as bad as being naked. It took her a moment to really grasp that, with her corset and blouse gone and her pants around her ankles, she actually was naked.
"Hey... I'm not like Liz," Becky slurred, trying to gather her thoughts. "I don't just get naked and have sex in front of... ahhhh!"
Becky's thoughts completely derailed as Gary's tongue parted her wet folds and probed expertly at her clit. She was dimly aware of the two women releasing their holds on her breasts, but most of her attention was now focused on Gary and his rapidly moving tongue.
"Oh, god," Becky moaned. "Oh... no, don't... Gary... oh god, Gary... that's good.... that's so goood!"
Becky's fingers tangled in Gary's hair, pulling his face between his heaving hips. Her head rolled from side to side. Intense eyes stared at her from behind blank white masks, watching her moan and buck.
"Oh god," Becky's face flushed red. "I can't... Gary... I can't... oh... no... don't... stop."
Gary tongue continued to feverishly lash at her clit. Becky's hips bucked and her hands pulled him against her. Becky's head rolled limply. She saw Liz, still on her hands and knees on the table. Caitlyn's Toy stood behind Liz, his taut black ass flexing as he trust steadily into her while the masked figures watched. Becky saw some had opened their robes, revealing hard penises. They stroked themselves while they watched Liz, while they watched her.
"Oh... oh, Gary," Becky moaned. "Oh, Gary... no... oh, no... this is wrong... it feels so good."
Becky's body arched and bucked. She could feel her orgasm growing despite her confusion.
"Yes, Gary," Becky sighed, surrendering. "Yes... don't stop... make me come... I want to come."
Suddenly, Gary's wonderful tongue was pulled away from her. Becky groaned and grabbed at him.
"Enough, Pet," Caitlyn purred. "She's ready now."
"What?" Becky muttered, confused. "Don't stop. Please, don't."
"Come with me, dear," Masque whispered, her tongue brushing Becky's ear and sending a shudder through her body.
The masked woman pulled Becky onto her unsteady feet. With her pants around her ankles, Becky shuffled and almost fell as she was guided to the second heavy, low table in the center of the room. As she was laid down on the table Becky heard Liz's harsh, ragged moans.
Becky looked over at her lover. Liz's face was contorted with intense sensations. Her full breasts swayed and Becky was surprised to see a chain swinging between them, held by metal clamps that squeezed each nipple. Angry red welts lined Liz's sides, the legacy of Ashton's beating. The curvy brunette grunted and moaned as Toy thrust his hard member into her. Too high, Becky thought. He's fucking her ass, she realized.
Becky became aware of a low buzzing a second before a wave of pleasure surged through her. Caitlyn loomed over her, a vibrator in her hand pressing against Becky's clit.
"Oh, god," Becky gasped. She moaned, rolling her hips to grind the sex toy against herself.
Focused on the action of the vibrator, Becky barely questioned Masque lifting her arms over her head until she heard the sudden click of the shackles.
"What?" Becky gasped. "What are you doing?"
"Get her ankles," Caitlyn snapped, as she leered at Becky. She pushed the vibrator more firmly against Becky's clit as the blond coed struggled weakly against the shackles.
Becky kicked weakly with her legs, trying to fight them, but Caitlyn and Masque grabbed them firmly and locked them down so that she was trapped, her arms above her head, her legs spread with her knees bent.
"What is this?" Becky demanded, struggling against the restraints.
"This is a vibrator," Caitlyn sneered, picking up the sex toy she had dropped in her efforts to shackle Becky. She held up a second in her other hand. "And so is this. Oh dear, it seems I have too many for you."
"I'm sure we can find a use for the second," Masque purred, taking it out of Caitlyn's hand. Picking up a bottle from the table, the masked woman squeezed a copious amount of shiny goo onto the hard plastic penis.