College Chronicles Ep. 14

Author's Note:

"Anonymous user on 11/21/2020

Can't wait until Jaxx takes Sami's cherry with the girls helping... Sami is going to finally get all the fucking she wants and more!"

😉

Here it is, I hope you all enjoy!

If you're less interested in character/build-up, I recommend you jump to the back half.

Content Warning: Some rough sex, verbal abuse, offensive/homophobic language, anal sex, and just a touch of reluctance.

*

It was an early evening in mid December, and I was alone in 001. But not for long.

We'd reached the ultimate weekend before the last week of classes, to be followed by winter break. A stressful time of year... but Jaxx's 'support' for my academic work had taken a lot of that off my plate. Even so, I thought I'd earned holiday time after finishing all of my work; three papers and a couple of exams!

So I was cruising, mentally past very skippable classes, daydreaming about Cindy.

Once the euphoria of my de-virginizing had worn off, I'd been worried that our relationship would change. With my final mystery explored, all battle lines ceded, would Cindy tire of me? Go back to Jaxx, or move on to someone with more to offer?

But that hadn't happened at all; if anything, our bond was stronger. We'd seen each other every day since that experimental night, and Cindy was even more cuddly and touchy-feely than before, often playing with my hair, groping, and lavishing me with lewd compliments. We'd had sex a few times since, each better than the last as I grew more comfortable with the humiliating, intoxicating vulnerability. It helped that we always did it in missionary-- something about her gorgeous eyes burning with lust and compassion as she took me made every touch and caress thrilling, lit my senses on fire.

One day she'd made me wear a plug to classes again, teasing me via her phone to the absolute edge, until I was whimpering into my hand and fidgeting at the growing wet patch in my panties. I'd gone straight from classes to her room, collapsing onto her with desperate kisses, begging to be fucked. That time her neighbors weren't out, and the next day I was mercilessly teased by her Sorority sisters for the sounds I'd made all night.

Even with our evolving dynamic, I fought a host of fearful specters about the impending trip to my family home. How would my family react to me? Would they be able to see the differences? How would they react to her? Would they even believe we were dating? How would SHE react to them? Her family was wealthy-- would she look down on my ordinary origins? Would my family embarrass me? Make her think twice about being with me?

The questions, worries, and anxiety from the unknown situation were significant. Going home had ramifications on my entire life! At the beginning of the year the whole situation would have had me curled into a ball in a dark room with a bad stomachache, catastrophizing and spiralling further into negative thought patterns.

But months of being around Cindy, her advice, guidance, confidence, occasional torture... it had made me stronger. I was more resilient, more sure. The physical aspect had a part in it; look good, feel good, and all that. There was more though, a psychological change that I couldn't put words to but felt undeniably.

So instead of panicking and spiralling about... everything, I danced around 001, singing along to Christmas music while I worked.

I was wearing a pair of pink sweat pants and one of Jaxx's hoodies, which hung like a tent on my small, slim form. I hadn't left the room all day, and the outfit was just plain comfortable. Plus, I liked wearing his clothes; heavy and warm, they carried traces of his masculine scent like a ghostly reminder of his presence.

The work I was doing was cleaning 001 from top to bottom. That morning, on his way out, Jaxx had asked over his shoulder if I wanted to go out with him and Cindy that evening. I was surprised she hadn't asked me herself, but said yes all the same; what was I doing otherwise?

Unfortunately, it wasn't that simple.

He'd shot me his trademark smirk and elaborated-- we were hosting a pre-game in 001, and he was busy all day. Could I clean up and get things ready? I'd started to stammer a response, but he hadn't waited for yes or no.

"Great, thanks pussy. There's drinks in the fridge, if you want to get started early."

He'd slammed the door behind him, and I'd stood for a second, a little bemused, a little confused. At least there was a thanks, though it was paired with that awful moniker. But so many mysteries remained: Where were we going? Who else was coming?

Of course I hadn't said anything to him about my activities with Cindy. And of course (at least I assumed) she had told him. He didn't mention it, but I knew he knew from the lingering looks he gave me and the increasingly frequent gropings and the sly way he smiled at me. Every interaction had become so dangerous, so full of potential-- even simple conversation was portentous and loaded.

In his absence, a pebble of fear settled in my gut; God I hoped it wasn't another clubbing excursion. But as I said, I had newfound strength, and I was able to shrug off misgivings and, with only a little procrastination, set to cleaning.

Like nearly everything else about us, my space (the corner of the room with my bed and desk) and Jaxx's (everywhere else) were almost exact opposites. I'm a fastidious person, taking pride in eliminating clutter, keeping my room spotless and having a set place for all of my belongings. I even made my bed most mornings, a habit instilled by my mother, who'd spent every other weekend of my childhood cleaning our house from top to bottom, usually with my help.

Jaxx didn't make his bed, to say the least. He brought his chaotic, devil-may-care masculinity to the space, flouting organization like he was allergic. His area was strewn with clothing, papers and books from lessons, even wrappers from food and crumpled drink cans.

His aversion to picking up after himself wore at my patience; clutter was one thing, but the actual garbage was the worst, especially when I came to recognize certain bits that lingered for days as he stepped over and ignored them. But what could I say about it, to his intimidating, iron presence? After a few brushed off requests early in the year, I'd learned to just quietly clean the most offensive mess, and try to live around the rest.

That day, however, I was more thorough.

I started by collecting and disposing of all the trash, gingerly discarding every scrap of plastic and empty beer can, even the ones buried under piles of clothing. I was surprised to find some condom wrappers among the refuse; I'd never witnessed him use one, assumed he refused categorically. I guess some girls were hot enough to make Jaxx compromise. I mulled over that for a bit, a strange mix of jealousy and bemusement. He would never respect a request like that from me... But at the same time, I couldn't imagine why someone would want Jaxx to cover his cock up. It was the best part, feeling it's bulging veins, the incredible heat it threw off.

That was when I needed a distraction and turned on Christmas music: Wham and Mariah and the Jackson Five and more. The songs helped me forget Jaxx's haunting presence and lose myself in the satisfying simplicity of cleaning. Refuse taken care of, I bopped around the apartment picking up scattered laundry. Dirty socks, sweat-stained t's, crumpled hoodies, and worn boxers, all still reeking of him, were distributed across the room in small piles or hanging off of furniture. Maybe I should have been grossed out, handling his soiled clothing. But clothes were different from trash... And I was comfortable enough around Jaxx by then to not mind; I'd had worse than his sweat on me.

I actually kind of enjoyed it. The zen of mindless work drowned out tiny niggling worries, but most of all was nice to feel useful. If I could do well enough, maybe he'd see how much better the room was clean. Maybe he'd notice how hard I worked, pay attention to me for a reason not related to touching me. With that in mind, I split his laundry up by whites and darks, bundled it into hampers and the shared machines in the communal laundry room. I vacuumed and dusted while they cycled, cleaning every inch of our bedroom and bathroom. When the laundry finished I luxuriated in the soft heat of his man-sized clothes, lovingly folded and stacked everything in the most appropriate places I could find.

Finally, I was done, and 001 was as clean as it had ever been. While I was busy, time had flown by, and I was a little upset to find that neither Cindy or Jaxx had messaged me to explain what was going on. My nervous energy overflowed, and I paced around the room, desperate for a distraction but afraid to do anything that might mar my perfect cleaning job.

Then, with almost suspiciously bad timing, a forceful knock sounded at the door. The rapping of knuckles on wood made me jump, and I froze with uncertainty for a moment. It couldn't be Jaxx; he would just let himself in. Cindy wouldn't be so severe in her knocking. There was really only one other possible visitor, but I was too slow to put the pieces together.

They all fell into horrible place when I swung the door open and was almost blinded by the lustrous gold of Aurora's long locks. She swept into the room wordlessly, barely noticing me, but paused in surprise at how spotless it was. The first sounds out of her mouth were a mocking mumble of understanding, for herself more than me.

"Damn, little bitch makes a good maid... "

It was only then she turned her regard to me, and I wished she hadn't as I wilted under the judgmental heat of her piercing blue eyes. She slowly took me in, eyes narrowing in disapproval as she saw Jaxx's hoodie hanging from my small frame.

She put my casual look to shame, dressed for a wild christmas party. Tall green heels led to candy cane thigh high socks, which ended under a shiny green mini dress with fluffy white trimming. The dress didn't have a neckline, secured tightly around her otherwise exposed chest, creating scandalous cleavage. She wore a matching shiny green hat at a jaunty angle; every bit Santa's sexy helper. I couldn't help stare slack-jawed at the sensational beauty before me, but the look I received back was devastatingly dismissive.

"Is THAT what you're wearing?"

Her tone was so haughty and powerful that I was immediately transported back to high school. I felt as small and powerless as I had then, crumbling into stuttering pieces in front of her.

"N-no I-I--"

She didn't wait for my explanation, spinning on one heel and clicking across the room to sit on the couch, where she withdrew her phone. She issued an impatient instruction over her shoulder.

"--'N-n-no I-I-I-'shut up. Take my boyfriend's clothes off, fucking faggot."

I winced at the slur, feeling it like a slap in the face. Then I jumped to follow, tearing the top off to reveal a light white camisole underneath. As I pulled clear, I saw Aurora take notice of my developing chest, visible through the thin cloth.

"Fucking slut."

There was no winning with her.

I turned away, trying to hide the tears that burned at the edges of my eyes. Why was she so cruel? I thought back to freshman meet week. When we spoke in the cafeteria she had been affable, even kind. The next time I saw her, it had been the opposite. And worse and worse since, up to then in 001, where I felt that she was trying to make me cry. I told myself I could resist. She was just some mean bitch. I didn't want to fuck her anymore. Couldn't fuck her anymore... I had Cindy anyway. Aurora was part of Sam and highschool, not Sami and college.

My self-reassurances rang hollow. She was an insanely gorgeous mean bitch, one I was obsessed with. Wanting to have her was a symptom of wanting to be her.

Thinking it explicitly rocked me-- I wanted to BE Aurora. I pushed it down, but couldn't suppress the raging emotions, which brought the frustrated question springing from my lips.

"B-but... WHY?!"

Across the room she turned around to face me, arching one eyebrow, surprised by the volume and dubious strength of my outburst.

"Why... what?"

"Wha-... Why are you so MEAN? I never... I thought... You... When you... In the caf... You were..."

A cunning light shone through her sky-blue eyes, and she threw back her head and laughed, long blonde locks flowing like her ridicule.

"Oh my god, you're so DUMB!"

I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't that. The familiar blush rose hot in my cheeks as she railed against me.

"You expect ME to be nice? To YOU? I don't know WHY you would think that. You were such a pervy fucking dweeb in highschool, always staring at me... Yeah, it was fucking obvious, everyone noticed. That shit was EMBARRASSING. And now..."

She looked me up and down, and if looks could kill I'd have been ashes on a mantle.

"I don't know WHAT you are."

She paused, offered a simpering smile.

"Besides, you threw away your chance to be my friend."

I stammered out a questioning denial without considering possible consequences.

"W-what? N-n-no you--"

"--Yes! I told you to ask Jaxx for my number! You never fucking asked! You totally forgot about me!"

Was that what had happened? I thought I remembered differently... But she was so heated, words firing as bullets, cutting off my denial.

"I didn--"

"--Yes you fucking did! Once you saw that ginger bitch! You totally fucked everything up, you stupid cunt!"

I had no idea what she was referring to. What did Cindy have to do with anything? Luckily, she was mad enough to explain, between insults.

"You were supposed to fucking text ME... you were so creepy and obsessed! I can't believe I was actually going to give you a chance!"

Her smile turned absolutely chilling; gorgeous and deadly. I shuddered at her latent viciousness as frozen words rolled out like smoke from dry ice.

"Then I would have made you Jaxx's bitch, instead of fucking Cindy. You COULD have been with ME."

The simple statement knocked my head into orbit, a remote satellite to reality.

She'd wanted me to text her? She would have guided me through my transformation? I found it hard to believe; but why would she lie? She clearly didn't care what I thought. And her truth hurt; the limitless abuse she piled on compounding my own feelings of guilt, lost opportunity, and fear. Had I actually insulted her? How would things be different if I'd been with her? What was she going to do to me as revenge?

What was even going on? First Cindy, then Jaxx, and Aurora too? Not to mention Natalie... What was happening, that all these gorgeous people were paying attention to me... ANGRY with me for the ways I returned (or didn't) that attention? Something like that would have been totally unthinkable to me in highschool, not even in my dreams. It was hard to believe, even with Aurora shouting at my face.

I had no excuse. It simply hadn't occurred to me to try to contact her. She was unattainable, a reminder of how low and worthless I had always been. There was no patience for my stumbling from her ire, she didn't wait for any response.

"And now you have the AUDACITY to be crushing on my boyfriend?! Yeah, I fucking know about that dance, slut!"

She cut me off again before I could register what she said, before I could offer excuse or denial. It was clear that she wouldn't believe anything I said, anyway.

"It's actually kind of sad... You think Jaxx would go for a little gay boy like you? When he has ME?!"

She gestured to herself, and I couldn't help but gawk. Her hair was long and shiny, skin clear and beautiful, muscles toned, breasts round and full, waist thin, hips wide and curvy. She was too beautiful; angelic. How could I ever have thought Jaxx would even consider me, in a competition with her? Despite my promises, tears began to leak from my eyes at her cruel truths.

She noticed, and took a moment to spare me. Or maybe just to choose a new weak spot. Her eyes sharpened, and a gulp was audible in my throat.

"I'm just hurt, Sam... -i. Especially that you picked CINDY over me. That rich skank has horrible fucking taste. And she looks like a man... "

The sky blue eyes softened, but the hellish light in them flared.

"But I guess that's why you like her, huh faggot?"

A responding fire lit in my gut. I might have been too cowardly to defend myself, but I couldn't let her slander Cindy like that.

"Cindy LIKES me! Cindy is... Amazing! She's... kind! You-... You're horrible!"

"Hah!!"

My outburst was weak and thin; the dismissive laugh was a sledgehammer through it.

"Oh that's so cute, you're like a yappy little dog. Shut up doggie! God, I can't wait till Jaxx... ohh, no no no, not yet."

I didn't understand what she meant, and she changed subject abruptly. The fake smile lighting her face only lasted that moment, before twisting into something more... normal.

"Do you remember when Max shoved you in that locker?"

A real smile stretched her face, and she looked exactly like every other time she had ever smiled when we were in highschool. Then I was back there, back in the locker, and she smiled the exact same way at Max as he barked an ugly laugh and slammed the locker shut.

I froze. I'd managed to forget high school entirely for the past few months, but her spiteful reminder threw me back into that same weak, insecure mindset. She was the exact same. The exact same queen bee unattainable out of this world gorgeous bitch she'd been back then. She pushed the issue, proving me right.

"Didn't you ask me out right before that? Were you too fucking scared to try again, Pussy?"

The fire inside me, lit with indignation at insults to Cindy, blossomed. Maybe she was the same-- I wasn't. I'd changed, even in the small amount of time at been at college. Cindy had showed me things didn't need to be the same, and I didn't need to be ashamed or scared.

There was a deep breath, and Sami responded, not Sam.

"Yeah I did. And yeah, I was. But now I'm GLAD. You SUCK."

Was that surprise on her face? If so, only for a millisecond. The haughty smile returned, and her lips parted to speak. I was determined not to let her bull over me again, to vent my anger and frustration and even disappointment with her, so I opened my mouth too, unsure of what would come out.

But a knock on the door stopped us both, and I finally noticed a light blinking on my phone. Cindy. Not waiting for anything from Aurora, I rushed over and threw the door open, struggling to control suddenly ragged breathing as I lost the battle against tears.

My savior stood in the doorway as I'd hoped. She had a long white bag slung over one shoulder, and was dressed similarly to me, for comfort rather than looks. Her vulpine features carried that sharp, mischievous look that told me she was in a good mood, but it faded as she recognized my own red eyes and pouting lips.

"Hey bi-- What's wrong?"

She stepped in and saw Aurora still sitting on the couch, who waved without looking; the answer to her question obvious.

"Oh..."

I wanted to shout and squeal and snitch. But as I tried to think of words, it all sounded so stupid, even just in my head. 'She called me bad names, she was really mean, she said you look like a man!' I couldn't say any of it in front of her, it would be just... too much. So I held my tongue and made my eyes wide, pleading to Cindy for help nonverbally. Somehow, she got the message.

There was a pause, everyone feeling the charged energy of the room. She took a closer look at my face, a questioning glance back to Aurora, who was taking a selfie with her tongue stuck out and her hand in her hair, as if we didn't exist. Cindy turned back to me and rolled her eyes, speaking in an only barely lowered voice.