Rose's Dolly Pt. 02

"Oh... So you weren't really mad?"

"I mean..." she seemed for a second to be figuring out how to phrase it. "Like, I wasn't mad for real, but I just got way into the scenario, just dove into the anger my character was feeling. I don't know, it's been a while since anything real made me mad like that, and so the roleplay scenario helped me unlock this level of, I don't know, abandon, I guess, that I'd been craving. And so, yeah, I was one hundred percent planning the whole time for you to cum on Miss Nail, so that there could be that turn, the reversal of power, you know?"

"Got it," he slumped his head back on the desk. She'd told him, hadn't she, that a turn was coming, and like an idiot he just forgot all about it. Ah well.

She walked over toward him. "Hey," she stroked his hair, "you did really good. Like, you played the character really well, like the sexual tension was fucking dynamite for a second there, wasn't it?"

He shrugged. "I guess."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Dolly, you came twice, don't pretend you got nothing out of this." He said nothing. She stood there seeming glum for a moment, then glanced at him and added, "Sulky little bitch."

He just sighed. "Whatever. Am I free to go?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Rose said with a dismissive hand wave.

He stood up and let the ruined clothes slide off his body. He walked over toward his pile of clothes, but as he was about to bend down and start putting them on, Rose caught him by the hair.

"One more thing, I'm just gonna keep pretending I think you showed up here tonight because you wanted to see me again. Cause if I thought you were here to do something sneaky, if I thought you were trying to act against me... Ooh, I wouldn't like that. If you think I'm scary now, sweetheart, all the times we've been together so far have just been me having fun. You don't wanna see me mad for real." She released his hair. "Not that it's relevant, because as we established, you just showed up because you were craving some Rose cock, weren't you?"

He looked back at her resentfully. But he just said, "Yes, Mistress."

"Mmm," she said, seeming somewhat appeased but still kind of edgy. "You'd never do anything to oppose me, would you sweetie?"

Sigh. "Of course not Mistress." He bent down to pick up his pants, which had the effect of presenting his gaping, cum-soaked ass to her.

"Hmmmm, there's a sight," she murmured.

"Yeah yeah."

"Oh," she added as he slid his jeans on, "we're still on for Thursday, by the way. This was just a little bonus I gave you," she smirked evilly at him, "cause I'm so nice and all."

He buttoned his jeans. He kept not looking at her. "Thank you Mistress."

Soon he was down the stairs stepping out the door. The night air was cool, even in his hoodie, but it was good, being outside, under the stars, nobody around to bother him. He was alone, just the sounds of chattering insects and leaves rustling in the wind. God, he had Dylan's clothes back on, but he didn't feel like Dylan, not really. Underneath the trappings of Dylanness, he was still Rose's filthy cumsoaked fuckmeat. He needed a shower. Probably no one else would be using them at this hour... God, what time was it? It was after midnight when he left, so probably it was late enough now that he shouldn't bother with sleeping.

He reached into his pocket for his phone, to check the time, and felt an unfamiliar key. It took a second but he remembered, oh shit, he'd stolen Rose's house key. Only so long before she noticed that, and probably he'd be the first person she assumed was responsible, shit shit shit.

He had an advantage now, that was good, yes, but he'd need to act quickly. What to do, what to do...

As he walked through the frat house back toward his room, he noticed the light was still on in Bray's room. Door was left open very slightly too. Gears began turning in Dylan's head...

He knocked on the door, then entered without waiting for a response. "Hey man," he said softly.

Bray had been sitting on the bed facing away from the door, hunched over his phone. When he heard Dylan, he spun around, wide eyed look of surprise, and his hand turned so that the screen of his phone was hidden. "Uh, yeah, hey, what's up man?" he said, trying not to sound startled.

Dylan raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing, checking your Grindr?"

Bray jumped at that, "Who told you?! I mean, no?"

"Right," Dylan said drily. "Like, three different guys mentioned it to me. People are talking, dude."

Bray rubbed his face with his hand. "Oh, God..."

"So hey, like, this is about what happened with those futa girls, right?" Dylan asked. "Like, I don't actually believe that you're, you know, a faggot for real."

"Nah, nah," Bray said, nodding vaguely. "Like, I'd for sure rather be with, like, a futa girl again..."

"No yeah, there's a difference, there really is," Dylan said.

Bray nodded vigorously, although still not making eye contact. "Yes! Yes, thank you, it's not the same thing as being into men at all. None of them would ever get it."

Dylan shook his head. "Small minds, small imaginations, narrow categories."

"For real," Bray said. "Thing is," he scratched the back of his head, "I just can't get over, like, how it felt. Being... dicked down, I guess. And I don't know how to find another futa, so..."

"So," Dylan cut in, "I happen to have Rose Nail's phone number..."

"What?" He seemed so eager. I've got him, thought Dylan. "Fuck, can I have it? Please, I'll do anything dude. I'll suck your-"

"Easy there, cowboy," Dylan said with a smirk, "Yeah, I'll give you Rose's number, on one condition: whenever you get around to seeing her-"

"Shit, dude, if you give me her number I'm trying to see her tomorrow," Bray had this glassy look in his eye, big dumb eager grin on his face.

Yes yes YES. "Well, regardless, when you get her to come over here, let me know, okay? Rose and I are sort of in this... conflict. A battle of wits. And it will be to my advantage to know she's occupied for a period of time, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever, I'll let you know," Bray shot back.

Dylan grinned smugly. "Excellent."

So, Dylan thought, walking down the hall to his room, tomorrow we either figure a way out of this situation or we are completely fucked. It has to be tomorrow. No second chances.

Four in the morning now. Time enough for a solid couple hours of sleep at least. Standing in his darkened room at the foot of his bed, he sent Kim a message; "Babe, I'm taking you out to dinner on Thursday."

He flopped down on the bed, nervous but optimistic.

Sure would suck though, he thought as he adjusted himself on the pillow, if I fucked this up now.

TO BE CONTINUED