College Chronicles Ep. 11

Author's Note: This story is a multi-faceted fantasy. It is not an endorsement of any of the actions carried out, or opinions voiced, by characters.

It includes blatant sexism, homophobia, cruel verbal humiliation, reluctance, coercion, and some exposure in a public setting. It also includes bondage and extremely reluctant rough sex, bordering at times on rape. It may be unpleasant to some. Please read at your own discretion.

*\**

When I woke up, the previous night's events felt like a distant dream.

But the evidence was the throbbing ache of my face and head, the dried remnants of Jaxx's cum strewn across my body. I slipped out of bed and ran for the bathroom, avoiding looking at his hulking figure across the room. Rushing into another hot shower, I hoped to wash away the memories more than the traces of him.

One gone, the other lingering, I hurried to dry myself and scurried back into the room, where I pulled on dark clothes. I knew that Jaxx would be sleeping naked, that if I let my eyes wander anywhere near him I might be pulled in by the magnetic gravity of his cock. I didn't trust myself, and it only amplified my doubts, regrets, and pain from the previous night.

I needed to see Cindy. I needed her gentle touch, her soothing warmth.

Suddenly the strangeness of her behavior occured to me. Why had she left, gone back to the sorority? She was best friends with Jaxx— and more. It's not like they hadn't slept in the same room before. My heart fell. Could she think less of me? Not want to be around me any more? Dread washed over me, but I pushed it back down.

I needed to see her.

I snuck out, carefully closing the door to not wake Jaxx. I would deal with him, and whatever was happening between us, later.

By the time I reached Cindy's sorority, I had worked myself into a bit of a state, fighting deep wracking breaths, tears burning at the edges of my eyes. I didn't want to think about what had happened— but it loomed just on the edge of my awareness, waiting for the moment I let my guard down.

And there was no explanation for her absence, other than awful ones. Maybe she was mad at me for running from her at the club, straight into the jaws of danger. Maybe she was disappointed, let down yet again by my cowardice and passivity. Maybe she was flat out disgusted. Whatever it was, I knew it would be devastating. But I needed to know, hear it from her mouth directly.

Standing in the shadow of her sorority, I took a deep breath and pulled out my phone. Her name was my first contact. When I brought the phone to my ear, I swear there wasn't even a ring before her voice rang out.

"...Sami?"

"I—... I'm outside."

The soft beep told me she'd hung up, but I wasn't offended by the abrupt exit. I knew it was careless haste, a rush down to let me in.

The door swung open in less than a minute. Cindy was still wearing the loose red shirt from her Ivy costume, however now it was fully buttoned, and below she wore fuzzy pink pajama bottoms. Even with casual attire and bloodshot red eyes, she was still effortlessly gorgeous, lustrous auburn hair falling like waves of copper.

We both paused for a second; at first I'd thought she was high, but slight tell-tale lines down her cheeks said differently. Strangely, I was the one to break the silence.

"Cin, I—"

Then she was in my space, pressing herself against me, almost desperate. For once there was no tongue, only lips seeking mine. I fell into her embrace, arms encircling me, looking up to meet her needful kiss.

We broke, and she swept me inside, up the stairs, down a hall, into her room, until we were alone with silent tension between us, another hesitant moment shared. This time we both spoke at once.

"I—"

"—Sami, I'm so sorry." Cindy spoke with as much urgency as she had kissed, overriding my halting attempts,

"I never meant for anything like that to happen. I shouldn't have let you go off by yourself— I shouldn't have made you drink so much... I shouldn't have... Have left..."

She picked up speed as she went, and I could see tears welling in her eyes, hear the lump rising in her throat to choke her words.

"I can't believe... I thought that you wouldn't... Wouldn't want to see me..."

Tears had begun to leak from my eyes, but her last statement nearly made me laugh in bewildered astonishment.

"What? Wh-why wouldn't I want to see you?"

For once Cindy's eyes shied away, downcast, failing to meet mine.

"Well all... What happened... I... I did that to you..."

I finally put it together: Cindy thought I would blame her, would hate her. She was taking the burden on herself; had probably spent the whole night fretting over every choice she had made. As someone who had lost many sleepless nights to regret and worry, I recognized the symptoms. But she couldn't have been further from the truth, and I burst with emotions letting her know,

"No Cindy it's not your fault! It was— i-it's me! I'm... I can't relax, and it keeps getting me in trouble! And it makes you have to... And then he... And I... Cin I... I don't... it's MY fault! All mine!"

Tears were flowing down my face by the end of my tantrum, and I turned away, stumbling across her room, looking for tissues but really for no reason other than to move. Cindy chased, grabbing my shoulders and spinning me back to her. Her eyes glowed like emerald embers in a dying fire, pulsing empathetically to my confused, desperate lament.

"Oh my god Sami, no! It's not your fault! Don't say that!"

She embraced me fully, and I let it out; a long, low wail of a sob that had my chest heaving for air. Cindy held on tight, and when my crying had subdued to whimpers spoke over me again,

"It's not your fault. You didn't ask for any of this. It'll be okay..."

And we went on like that. I cried, Cindy cried, we both cried, working through our pain and our fear and our regret and our sadness. After we cried we talked, and after we talked we cried. I didn't want to discuss Halloween's events, and Cindy somehow intuited that, so conversation rambled through other personal tragedies. Her abusive ex-boyfriend, my highschool victim-hood. Her intelligent and successful but distant parents; mine simple, kindly, and hopelessly ignorant to 99% of the life I lived. In a macabre way the stories and memories made it better, as if digging into pain for strength of experience was fuel for my fire. They do say misery loves company.

Eventually Cindy got out her stash, and we smoked ourselves comatose, self-medicating the problems away. Our conversations wandered and drifted, and before we knew it, it was dinner and we hadn't eaten all day. Cindy ordered food, I picked a movie, and we watched curled up in her bed forgetting the world.

I stayed with Cindy that night, then stayed all Monday as well, only leaving to get food, despite my classes. Cindy had offered to stay with me, concerned about my mental state, but I assured her I just wanted some time alone without professors or roommates, which she'd understood.

By Tuesday morning I was ready to return to 001. Jaxx wasn't in when I did, which filled me with relief, carrying a hint of... longing? I pushed that from my mind. I'd told Cindy I was going to attend classes, but at the last moment I decided not to, again spending the day in bed, on the internet. It was how I'd recovered from bullying episodes— faked being sick and spent the day online. I was good at my process, I told myself. I would recover by Wednesday, go back to classes, and meet up with Natalie. Discuss her trauma, forget mine.

Cindy texted me frequently, casual conversations hiding her check-ups. As her conversation became more normal and light-hearted, I kept expecting her to bring up what I'd done with Jaxx later that night, but she never did. At first I was sure he would tell her, resigned to it. By the evening, I was starting to think he kept it to himself for some enigmatic reason.

Jaxx's motivations were as weather; unpredictable and unstoppable. Like stormy skies, his mere presence spelled trouble for an unsteady, shakeable person such as myself.

It was late at night when I heard Jaxx's return in hushed whispers and a jangling of keys in the door. Like many times before, it swung open to leave Jaxx and his date silhouetted in the hallway lights. They were already passionately entwined, her arms around his shoulders, legs tight around his waist, bouncing slightly on his bulging crotch. I couldn't tell if it was someone I recognized with her back to me, only that she had long, dark hair.

In a few steps, Jaxx entered, kicked the door closed, and had dropped her on the bed. Then they were pulling off their clothes, the girl scrabbling furiously, Jaxx moving with practiced calm. I thought back to my first few weeks in 001, found myself strangely longing for Jaxx to throw her wet panties over at me, involve me in the hot and heavy action. But no clothes came, and I realized he might not know I was there. He had an infuriating tendency to render me invisible. Humiliatingly, it turned me on even more. Jaxx was being his true, dominant self; no act or mask.

I thought about touching my clit for a moment— then I banished the idea. I couldn't do that to Cindy. But I was so horny, worried I might get up and try to join them, against my brain's better logic. So my hand wandered, sliding across my chest, cupping my slight breasts, tweaking my nipples as I used the other to stifle a moan. It roamed further, tracing down my flat stomach and across my hips, fingertips barely tugging at my skin. Then I brought it to my mouth and licked. Dripping with saliva, My adventurous digits slithered between my legs, but not to my clit. Down past, to my little puckered asshole. I began rubbing in circles, astonished by how good the pressure felt, almost squealing through the fingers clasped over my mouth. My middle finger brushed over the center of my hole, sending chills through my body. So I did it again. And again.

Across the room, the girl's legs spread in the air on either side of Jaxx, before wrapping around and pulling him in. I heard a light feminine gasp and a liquid squelch, and then Jaxx's laugh of astonished disbelief,

"Holy SHIT you're wet, Shae."

Shae; the prudish Asian girl who I had scared off and paid so dearly for. She didn't seem so timid now. I heard another gasp, another squelch as Jaxx thrust his pelvis, muscles along his back and ass rippling strangely in the pale moonlight.

"Ughh— and a tight little cunt too!"

There was a third gasp, and the sharp crack of her hand swinging up to slap his face. Jaxx didn't react, didn't flinch; just chuckled as his shadow leaned forward over the bed, setting to work.

Plowing was Jaxx's specialty, and he fucked and fucked relentlessly, pounding her tiny frame against his bed. It shook in the rhythm of his thrusting, banging against the wall with each powerful attack. The room was filled with the wet sounds of his cock pistoning in and out of her and his heavy balls slapping against her ass. Occasionally the implacable fucking would drive moans from Shae's lips; high-pitched, shameful, lustful, incredible moans that made my clit stiffen against my tight panties. Otherwise she was silent, resilient under his onslaught.

I took advantage of the noise, amazed by Jaxx's vigor, and Shae's silent constitution to take his huge cock. I closed my eyes and focused on the sounds of their coupling, forgetting about everything else. I imagined I was under Jaxx, that he was pounding away at me, it was my little body withstanding the brutal fucking he delivered. And I pretended it was me, shuddering with feminine sounds of irresistible pleasure. Desperately horny, seeking relief, my finger softly burst through my ring; first knuckle, second knuckle. I couldn't contain my gasp, but it was lost in the storm of Jaxx's lust. I wiggled my finger, and shivers cascaded up and down my spine and out to my extremities. I tried to thrust in time with the banging if his bed, but I knew my wimpy digit was no match for his unit. Even with poor comparison, the simple act of fingering my own asshole while Jaxx plowed a hot slut was overwhelming. I felt a rising, different from orgasms when I touched my clit. This was closer to the butt plug, waves building just out of reach, a tide ready to sweep me away. I couldn't resist, and whimpered into my hand as my legs shook and toes curled, squirting in my panties.

Despite my loss of control, I went unnoticed— or at least, ignored. It seemed like Jaxx fucked her for hours. He would offer occasional jabs, and I could picture his expression, the galling smirk that made me crazy, as he spread Shae's shy legs wide and went to town on her no-doubt gorgeous pussy.

"Not such a prude bitch now, huh?"

"I knew you were gonna love my cock..."

"Fuck yeah baby, spread 'em wide for me."

"You ready to REALLY take it like a slut?"

With the last, not waiting for any audible response, he shifted position, bringing her legs closer together and pushing them back even further until she was contorted in half, feet nearly over her own shoulders.

Jaxx chuckled again in disbelief, and I felt an unexpected pang of jealousy as he spoke,

"God damn Shae... That's fucking beautiful."

Her voice finally rang out, soft in volume, hard in tone, slightly out of breath.

"I... Used to be...a gymnast."

"That's interesting." He didn't sound interested, and as he spoke he leaned forward, thrusting slowly at first, but quickly building pace. In the new position, Shae couldn't help but vocalize,

"Anh... ah... ah.. ah. ah, ah! Ah! AAH! AAH!"

Her calls were soprano and crescendoed to genuine screams of pleasure, surely audible in every room on campus. I could just see her feet over his shoulders, shaking and curling in convulsions of pleasure.

I was in awe at Jaxx's sexual prowess, how he always made his partners cum. And he didn't just deliver normal orgasms, but earth-shattering ones, melting a well-behaved girl like Shae. It would stand to reason he would be good with his tool, given such frequent practice.

I bet he would make me cum a dozen times before he finished.

The thought came to my head unbidden; both thrilled and terrified me.

During my distraction, Jaxx had begun a low roar that signaled his own climax, still thrusting in and out of Shae's dripping orifice. As he grunted and groaned, it became wetter, squelches turning to obscene sloshing of his heavy load. The sounds gently slowed, and eventually I could hear the susurrations of pillow talk. I drifted asleep to the murmurs, thoughts of Jaxx winding through my head.

I woke the next morning from a dream so life-like I thought it had been real.

I'd been in 001, but I was friends with Shae, and we were executing a plan to get Jaxx's attention (when or why we'd cooked this plan up weren't important, in the floaty logic of the dream). She bared her breasts, and I had sucked and kneaded them, pleading with my eyes for Jaxx's pleasure, as he sat and watched us. Little of the context made sense, but as dreams do it lingered, so when I awoke I was startled, looking around to find where she had gone.

My first instinct was to check Jaxx's bed, and I didn't get any farther than that.

Not because I found Shae. There was no sign of her, not even an empty spot on his mattress— he lay sprawled across the entire thing. She must have run out after I'd fallen asleep, or much earlier in the morning.

Instead, my eyes were arrested by the sight of Jaxx's totally naked, rock-hard, jutting erection. It was swaying slightly in the air with his every stir, and sometimes it even kicked independently, as if it was searching for a hole to fuck. No wonder Shae had screamed so loudly, stuffed with that entire thing.

I had a sudden, disconcerting urge to swallow as much of his cock as I could, to lick it from stem to tip and back. I nervously licked my lips—then, catching myself, bit my bottom lip, regretting my wanton desires, the behavior that betrayed my lust. And I had reason for regret.

A deep chuckle rolled out from above me, and my vision lagged behind my head for a second, stuck on his cock, as I swung up to find him awake. His eyes were a light storm at dawn; silvery grey with a shine of the promising sun. They locked into me, pulling my attention as much as if he'd yanked me by the collar of a shirt, lifted me so we were face-to-face. As he pushed himself to sit up against his headboard, his laugh turned into words.

"Baby if you want it, come and get it."

He spoke with so much confidence; such relaxed, unconcerned swagger. My body trembled. I did want it. His permission, really an instruction, made it easier. It was out of my hands. I needed to help him out. I did owe him for so many things, after all. And it wasn't like I hadn't done it before. What harm could once more do?

With so many reasons in the pro category, I didn't hesitate much climbing out of bed and padding across the room in my skimpy pair of pink hipster panties. I tried to look as sexy as I could: sticking out my chest a bit, tousling my hair with one hand, affecting a bit of a flounce. But I just felt stupid as his gaze bore into me and that maddening smirk settled on his face.

As I arrived at the bedside, he gestured curtly with one hand, a wave for me to come closer. My heart thumped in my chest, and I gulped anxiously as I stepped in. The same hand roamed the small of my back to my ass, stroked strong fingertips across one fleshy cheek, then squeezed, stretching my cheeks apart. I stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do. My clit was suddenly stiff in my panties, pulling them even tighter around my butt.

Jaxx whistled in admiration, and already embarrassed by the attention, my face went hot.

"What do you want?"

He was looking at me again, cocksure smirk and granite eyes. I melted before his will.

"Uhmm... Wha-... I..."

Resistance wasn't even an option, but my intimidated fugue needed more clear instructions. Jaxx understood; was happy to provide.

"Beg to suck my cock."

His powerful hand squeezed again, kneading my ass, and my attention was drawn to his thick erection swaying before me. I could imagine how hot it would feel in my hands, how his skin and muscle would ripple against my fingers.

"Uhm... C-can I... Can I suck it?"

My gaze shyly went up to him, doe eyes at the ready. I thought I could manipulate him, get him to forgive what I knew was inadequate subservience. So, so naive. Whether he saw through me, or just thought I was too stupid to follow instructions, it didn't matter. I was dismayed his expression turned sneer.

"Oh, that's not good enough. I said BEG."

His hand squeezed again, cruelly pinching, and I yelped in shock, jumping into the air and landing on my toes, his hand cupping my butt, basically holding me up. My face burned with humiliation and a strange, thrilling fear, while my heart galloped in my chest. I knew what he wanted from me.

"Oh please? Please let me... suck your c-cock?"

"Better. Call me daddy."

His cold eyes sparked as he blatantly ogled me, eyes stroking down my little chest and hard nipples, shifting to get a better look at my rounded ass, hoisted in one broad palm. I felt so exposed, so powerless, like he could squeeze his fist and crush me to pieces.

"Please, please daddy, please let me suck your cock? Pretty please, daddy?"

I really put my heart into it, and surprised myself with how convincing I was, wheedling and coy and bashful all at once. Jaxx chuckled at my over the top performance,

"Much better. Go ahead, slut."

Like I weighed nothing, he tossed me up and onto the bed. It was unceremonious, but it was the first time I'd been in his bed, where he had fucked so many gorgeous girls. A shiver ran down my spine, and I couldn't contain a whimper at the whole situation. I righted myself, to find I was between his corded legs, staring his monster in its one eye. It leaned forward, rising and falling as he breathed, waiting for my hands. Underneath, his balls sat fat and heavy, despite how he'd emptied them in Shae hours ago.