College Chronicles Ep. 15 Pt. 02

"Oh fuck..."

"At first I assumed it was 'cause you're the reason Mommy and Daddy got divorced..."

That made Max jump, and me really curious. His parents were divorced? How did Cindy know that? Max was similarly confused.

"Wha--... What the fuck? Ungh... Who the fuck are you?!"

"Oh yeah, I know ALL about you."

She did something; pressed the blade close, or squeezed his swollen member, or any other manner of tortuous tease she had at her avail. He went quiet with a squeak, and she put her head on his shoulder, speaking into his ear and ignoring the interruption.

"But maybe that's mean. You could just be not totally straight; that's okay! Maybe you had a little crush on Sam, huh?"

"The fuck? No--"

Max protested, then cut himself off, remembering Cindy's threats. But I guess she eased off, and he continued after a second, spitting the words with hate.

"...I'm not a fucking fag."

Cindy actually growled, and shot me a profoundly exasperated look.

"Why do boys always get so stuck on labels?"

Max took the brief interruption in his interrogation and found some courage, or at least enough fear, to disobey her warnings and motivate new words.

"Who the fuck are you? Why do you care about Sam? Why are you doing this??"

I think he meant to sound angry, but what came out was frayed and cracking, a list of questions more as whines than demands. Cindy ignored all but his last question, turning to me with a wicked smile.

"Come here Riley."

She shifted with an effortlessly smooth flow, sliding around until she was fully behind him, knife at his neck. Her other hand still circled him, pulling slowly on his erection. I approached slowly, unsure of everything, but her voice was calm and certain, and following instructions made me feel a little more safe.

"Take out your phone."

"Uhmm..."

I didn't know what to say, mumbling a little as I grabbed my phone from where it was stashed. I avoided Max's eyes, which I knew were wide open and fixed on me. Cindy still wore her way-too-pleased smile, like we weren't in a totally crazy situation. She locked onto my eyes, the viridian of hers familiar and striking.

"Take pictures."

"Of... Him?"

It was hard for me to process through the haze of weed and alcohol, and the thrumming undercurrent of my still pounding heart. Max similarly took a second to process what she said, before his own dismayed reaction.

"...The fuck? Don't!"

Despite his words, he didn't really fight back. I couldn't blame him with the blade still at his throat. She ignored him, never letting go of my gaze.

"Yeah, of course silly!"

It was that simple. Cindy wanted pictures. Cindy got pictures. I opened the app, lifted my phone, and snapped a few, capturing his average penis, his physical helplessness. Cindy moved her hands out of the frame and he didn't make a move; maybe he was distracted by my task, or maybe he was just frightened. I was scared as well, phone shivering in my hands.

"Make sure you get his face."

"No, no no no!"

He didn't move despite the escalating panic in his voice, and after a moments hesitation I did as she told me, adjusting to capture his bewildered expression. When I lowered the phone she flashed me a smile so bright I almost felt normal, but it didn't help that one hand returned to pulling on his stick. The simultaneous brusque pat on Max's cheek made it hard to know who she was speaking to.

"There, all done. Wasn't that easy?"

"Uffhh... Why?..."

"Why... what?"

"... Why are you doing this?!"

"Be patient, I'm getting there!"

Then she looked up to me, beckoning with the arm wrapped around Max's shoulder.

"Come closer."

I could sense it in her tone, her expression, the smell of electrical charge in the air like before a big storm. It was almost time for the climax, my big reveal. I didn't know how to feel about that. What would I say? Would I even be able to speak? My brain was racing a million miles a minute, with none of my thoughts about Cindy's instructions. Nevertheless, my body obeyed naturally, floating along the floor to stand a few feet before them. I kept my eyes on her, unable to look at Max from a combination of fear and pity. Cindy's face was an angelic escape, despite her guiding hand in everything that was happening.

"Is she pretty?"

He was getting used to those three emotions, fear, anger, and confusion.

"What? I already said that!"

"I've got a bad memory, tell me again."

Cindy's eyes had found me, even as she spoke teasingly into his ear. Her hand was still slowly stroking at his joystick, and I could tell it was having an impact, despite his resistance.

"Unghh... Yeah... she's fucking hot."

Cindy's smile broadened, if that was possible, and she followed quickly with another question.

"Would you bully her?"

"Wha-... what??"

More confusion on Max's face, though things were finally starting to make sense to me.

"Would. You. Bully. Her?"

Cindy snapped into her impatient, mocking tone, and like always there was an edge of real, genuine fury. She was speaking for me, voicing the anger she knew I wouldn't.

"Nuh... No!"

Max felt the escalating emotions in her voice, and fear returned in place of his confusion. Maybe that was what Cindy wanted; she took it as the turn.

"Take your mask off."

I hesitated, though my hands flew to my face, body ready to obey. I was too overwhelmed for words, freezing for the hundredth time that strange, out-of-control night. But Cindy didn't let me falter, gave me the absolute opposite of the tone she gave Max.

"It's okay baby. You can do it."

It almost sounded like she was in bed next to me, underneath covers and blanket, whispering in my ear. The same way we spoke in secret, deep conversations where we revealed everything that made us who we were. She hit a sacred note that struck my chord, and I was moved to follow through. The mask lifted off my face easily, but I kept it tight in my grip, conscious that I would need it again.

When my hands fell, I accidentally watched Max's reaction. At first he was blank, eyes scanning, revealing nothing. Then the moment of awareness, memory, squinting of eyes followed by lifting of brows, parting of the mouth. Cindy watched the same process, and gave a sarcastic jab.

"Recognize her now? You said... 'Pathetic'?"

"Hooly... What the... Ungh... Oh god!"

Max grunted, and I couldn't look away as Cindy increased the speed of her hand, and his face contorted grotesquely until she suddenly released him. He contorted again, this time his body, buckling as if trying to force more contact to his suddenly deprived dick.

"Hey! God... Ugh... Fuck! God damnit!"

Cindy went on casually, totally ignoring the devastating tease she had delivered to him.

"Yeah. Meet Sami. She's fucking awesome."

I double took at that. The way she said it... I almost believed her. She had such a sense of confidence; superiority. If she'd been against me, it would have been condescending, offensive. But on my side... She was bullying Max. She was helping me bully Max. She was hitting him where it hurt, pulling no punches, spitting words with venom that sizzled in your ears.

"You fucked with the wrong person. Everyone's a dick in high school, but you had to be extra. So after she told me about you, I did some digging. And then we came here, and I did some talking..."

She turned his head, and I was glad I wasn't on the end of the absolutely demonic smile he received.

"...Turns out you're not actually that popular. Sure, people don't really mind you. Some of them are afraid of you, but..."

She paused, licked her lips, a lioness ready to feast on a gazelle.

"... no one really likes you, Max."

There was another crash from downstairs, a little louder than before, and he started, finally hearing it.

"What the fuck?? What was that? And fuck you, people--"

"--Shh shh shh..."

The blade was back and prominent, pushing into the soft skin of his throat, not cutting but threatening to if he even moved to continue speaking.

"... Don't worry about that. Just be quiet."

Cindy turned back to me, and it was time to face my demons. I had no idea what to do or say, and she knew it.

"Go ahead. It's okay."

Her voice was crooning, like she was speaking to a tearful child. I was even softer, barely more than a whisper.

"But I... I don't... Don't..."

"Just talk! Whatever you want to say. Start 'Max, I feel like...'"

"But... What if... He..."

"He won't do shit."

She shut down my fear like it was a gnat, waving a hand to smack Max's cheek twice, roughly. He winced, but didn't move otherwise, still obviously afraid of the knife to his exposed flesh. It did make me feel a little more secure, though not totally.

"But... What about... After?"

I was hesitant, but sure of my concern. We couldn't leave him handcuffed forever, and I knew she wasn't going to kill him. Hoped.

"I think Max realizes how badly he needs a lesson... But if he gets stupid, and thinks about getting back..."

She turned his face to hers, the warning as much to scare him as reassure me.

"... He'll just remember that we can send these..."

She gestured to the phone in my hand, and its camera roll.

"...To everyone he knows."

She had a satisfied look on her face, and even though my compassionate nature made me feel a little bad about just how bad Max was getting it, some of that satisfaction rubbed off to me. He deserved it, didn't he?

"So, go ahead. 'Max, I feel like...'"

He did deserve it. He deserved more; the same, every day of the week, for four years. He deserved the ceaseless, unrelenting fear and paranoia, the same shame and isolation that he had shown me. In fact, he was getting off easy, and he needed to know. I needed to tell him. I could feel something, stirring inside; but it was different from the usual stirring.

"M-max, I f-f-feel--"

Confronting him brought the old high school Sam settling down over me like a familiar, stifling blanket, and I unexpectedly stuttered worse than I had in months. Cindy didn't say anything, just looked at me and exaggerated a slow, deep breath followed by an equally slow exhale. Her encouragement helped, but it was really Max who pushed me over the edge.

He barely said anything, didn't even really make more noise then a chuckle. But his lips curled into the smirk that he plagiarized from Jaxx, a smirk that said 'You haven't changed at all.'

I HAD to prove that wasn't right.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

I surprised even myself, an unfamiliar rage coursing through my veins. It was different than what I felt when Jaxx pushed me; more volcanic, more powerful, more righteous.

"YOU don't get to laugh you... dumb fuck! You fucking ruined my life! You DESERVE to get your balls cut off for fucking... beating... making fun of me, and... fucking..."

He'd kept the smirk for a second, but when I mentioned his balls it he quickly turned more serious, half looking past me as I ranted on.

"...I never did ANYTHING to you, and you fucking... Tortured me! You don't even KNOW what you fucking did, how fucking... Miserable... Every fucking day!"

I had to stop for a second, take a deep shuddering breath, fight back tears. But I was stronger than I had been, didn't let myself lose focus.

"I HATED myself. I wanted to fucking die! And then I went to college... It's not me. It was never me, it was YOU! You suck! You're fucking stupid, and ugly, and you're not cool, and she's right! No one fucking likes you! I... I... I..."

I was gaining momentum, not losing it, and more emotion welled up as I stumbled for words, until I found them.

"... I never did ANYTHING to you!"

And more emotions, and more; anger, injustice, hurt, jealousy, fear, frustration, regret, all bubbled out of me. Though his eyes were cast down and his mouth pulled down into a frown, something triggered me. Whether he twitched just so slightly, or I had been looking at him too hard, too long...

I threw an arm back haphazardly, and brought it forward with all the force I could muster.

*SLAP

Even as a slap, I struck with force that surprised myself, cutting loudly through the jumbled noises of the house, at least in that little room. My hand went numb, then started to sting, but I barely noticed it, caught up in cathartic, teary shouting.

"Didn't do anything!"

*SLAP

Max had looked back up, defiant against my attack, and I followed with a second swing, a second slap. But that wasn't enough; my open palm could be shrugged off, didn't do the damage I wanted to inflict. Even though it must have only taken a second, I vividly remember the feeling of my fingers curling into a trembling fist, nails digging into flesh as I squeezed, seeing red.

"I!"

*THWACK

"DIDN'T!"

*THWACK

"DESERVE!"

*THWUCK

"IT!"

*CRACK

I punched him four times in quick succession, punctuating each word that ripped from my insides, so raw they nearly dripped with emotional viscera. He didn't flinch at the first, but the second caught him square in the jaw and shook him. He moved, and my already flying third punch caught him in the temple with a slightly sickening sound. But I only heard registered it after the fourth was already in motion, and I caught the side of his head and dashed it so hard I heard something crack, and he twisted and fell onto his side.

For a second there was near silence; the only sound was the bumping and crashes from the party below, and the gradually rising sound of my labored breathing. As I regained control, I was surprised to find myself winded with physical and emotional exertion, and the pain in my hand began to creep in through the adrenaline. I clenched my fist and gasped at the sudden sting; could I have broken my hand?

But I wasn't done yet. I looked down at Max's body sprawled on his bed. From that angle, he didn't look intimidating at all. Just disgusting; so disgusting that it freed me to do something as gross and unrefined as him. I didn't even think, I just spat my contempt at his prone body.

"And that's for talking about my mom."

Suddenly, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. My head popped up-- but it was just Cindy, jumping off the bed. She reached out and grabbed my hand, barely slowing.

"Oh my fucking god! Let's go!"

As I fell into her wake, I was slow to realize I still held my mask tightly in one hand. Pulling it on was a struggle, and I ended up half blinding myself, mask sitting awkwardly on my face, trusting Cindy to guide me well. She did; out into the hallway, down the stairs, around and over bodies drunk and amorous.

We slowed by necessity when we hit the bottom. That dancefloor was still packed and heaving in the small hallway, and if anything the tide had grown rougher. Then I managed to fix my mask, looked around, and realized the entire party had escalated. People were FUCKED UP, stumbling, fucking, or fighting all over the place. The house was fully trashed; solo cups, spills, and other garbage lying haphazardly everywhere.

But there was no time to wonder at all that. Cindy fought through, dragging me along, until the threshold and the cold, open night were visible in peeks and bursts through the bodies.

Then a hand from the crowd grabbed my wrist.

I shook my arm frantically, and the hand lost hold, but it was enough to pull my attention. I turned, and found myself face to face with Pete, looking more than a little confused.

"Hey! Where'd you..."

It was like time slowed down.

He looked up me up and down, saw Cindy's hand pulling my arm. Then his eyes went to her, looked at her body, then her face, still uncovered. I could watch him process, putting the equation together. He'd met Cindy, recognized her... So that must mean...

We were gone, almost at the door, and Pete didn't make a move to chase as more bodies filled the space between us. But his eyes found mine, and I could see the recognition, the understanding. His mouth moved; though I couldn't hear him over music and shouts and crashes, I could read his lips.

'...Sam??...'

And then we were out in the freezing night air, and Cindy was running and I ran with her, desperate to keep up. But she didn't run scared; she ran free, whooping and hollering.

"Fuck yeah! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!"

I couldn't help but laugh and join her, not even sure what I screamed. By that point in the night, I was losing touch with my awake self, and everything was getting a bit blurry. I vaguely remember a stop back in the park, both of us peeing in some bushes, giggling uncontrollably the whole time. The next solid thing was us sneaking up the dark stairs of my house, trying to get back to my room without being too loud. In retrospect, I don't think we were successful, but no one came out to confront us.

It's good they didn't, because halfway up the stairs Cindy started kissing me, and by the top we were essentially dry humping each other. We stumbled into my room, and as I struggled to secure my lock, Cindy nuzzled and bit at my neck while undressing me, whispering excitedly in between.

"God I can't get over... That was fucking crazy!"

"What??"

SHE was telling ME that? She had pulled a knife to even the odds! But I couldn't verbalize all that, and she went on as she kissed her way to my face.

"I mean you were so fucking badass! You hit him so hard!"

I swooned under her attention, and eventually I managed a stumbling response.

"I... I did?"

"Oh yeah. And when you spit, and your little one-liner!? It was, like, out of a movie or something!"

Then her clothes were off too, she pushed me into the bed and dove on after; time for conversation was over.

I think I surprised her, knowing exactly what I wanted, unusually assertive, high on confidence from my start to the new year. I maneuvered so I was on top, and she gave me a funny look until I began slithering down her body.

"Nooo, it's too late... I wanna fuck you!"

She wrapped her legs around me and easily flipped us. There was no aggression, all passion, and she leaned down and made out with me for another couple minutes, our embrace hot and heavy. She nearly fell off the bed going to find her dildo, and the base slid inside with an audible wet noise to accompany her gasp.

She was an absolute vixen stalking back over to the bed, staring me right in the eyes with that shining, vibrant gaze. She even managed to sell her drunken wobble as a seductive step, and I moaned impatiently, urging her back onto the bed, and me.

She gladly obliged, hopping up and flipping me over all at once, pushing a pillow under my stomach and forcing herself between my legs, spreading me apart as she licked and nibbled at my neck. It was strange; like she was forcing me, but not. The physical domination and insistent spear rubbing on my thighs and ass, but none of the cruelty, the awful undeniable whispers.

Even if she had been cruel, I wouldn't have been upset. I was so wound up, so horny after my various escapades, and the adrenaline of confronting Max still pumped in my veins, lighting me up with energy. I couldn't stop the release, words ripping from my mouth into the mattress with slurred imprecision.

"Mmmmm fughhh meeee!"

I didn't need to ask twice. Cindy sat up, and I felt cool lube drip onto her cock and my ass. Then one hand pressed into the mattress next to my face, and I felt her fat head probing between my cheeks as she whispered in my ear.

"Stay still... Good girl..."

With one insistent push, she penetrated my willing orifice. I couldn't hide how badly I needed it.

"Ohhhmmgodddyesssssss..."

She chuckled in my ear, laughing at me but also having too much fun to interrupt with conversation. Instead she focused on fucking, starting with smooth thrusts, gradually merging into into rubbing and humping, leveraging the dildo to reach my deepest parts, while scratching her own itch.