Student Life Pt. 03

Student Life -- part 3

I stood with my back to the closed door, wondering what the others would be saying about me. They could, of course, be discussing something else entirely, but I severely doubted it. I would be the main topic between them for some time to come. Quite understandably really. They would have a lot to discuss after that display.

I also wondered if the three guys would talk about me in a different way when they were alone, after the ladies had left. Less about what I'd done, and more about what they'd like to do to me. Connor, I was sure, would be quite vocal in his opinions. He'd called me a slut to my face, but would he let the others know that?

If I wasn't the main thought in their heads tonight, as the guys went to bed, I'd be disappointed in a way. While I didn't want this, it was happening. In which case surely it was a positive if they were all going to be fantasising about what they'd been able to do with me, and then what they'd been thinking as they semi-openly kept an eye on me as we watched TV.

Crap. I was getting mixed up in my thoughts. I didn't want this. There was no way that the after-effects should be turning me on in any way -- but they were. It was that final bit with Leanne that had turned something horrific into something interesting. Something with possibilities. Something that I was going to run a mile from right now. Life was complicated enough at this point to even try and sort out what I was feeling. I'd have to shelve it for a future point.

What was clear to me was that I was moving to a new flat, as far away from this one as possible, when I could. When I was freed from the blackmailer I never wanted to see this particular group of people again. The whole thing was just too embarrassing, and every single time I saw one of them I'd be brought back to this point.

Standing with my back to the door. Naked and still showing marks from where they had all groped my boobs -- with my permission -- in public. How the hell could someone live that down? I'd have to not just do that though, but go through much of it again tomorrow, and every day for the next week, until this phase might have an end. What my blackmailer might think of that I didn't know -- yet.

On a normal evening, when coming in to get on with work, I'd make a cup of tea to bring in with me. This time I'd been thinking more of getting the hell out of the main area, and less about my routine. I could always go back out and get one -- thus further confirming my new role in the flat as naked chick -- but, for tonight, cold water from the bathroom tap would do just fine.

While I knew that much of the feeling I had of being dirty was not going to be washed off, I still thought that a shower would help. We each had a bathroom, rather than there being a communal one -- which was one reason I'd chosen this type of flat. Sharing that with a bunch of strangers -- and some of them guys -- didn't sound like a good idea to me.

The university artwork had made a really good job of showing off the tiny bathroom in our rooms to their best effect, and you had to wonder if Photoshop had come into it somewhere. There was a toilet, a sink, and a shower all crammed together in a plastic pod space not much bigger than the size of my parent's shower at home. It was private and did the job though.

I took a fairly long shower and enjoyed the warmth of the water flowing over my body. After washing my hair, I paused over what to do next. This was one of my favourite places, and ways, to masturbate but, while I did feel the need in me to do so, the image that had immediately come to mind was of Leanne.

While there was nothing technically wrong with thinking of a girl while touching myself, I'd never done so before, and it broke me out of my mood. A little anyway, but enough for the moment. If these were normal times, and I was back home, then I'd have gone out somewhere and found a good way to relieve this itch. And if that wasn't possible, then I'd look at the videos on my phone.

And thinking of that was enough to dispel the mood entirely. Recording onto my phone was what had got me into this mess, and I needed to be concentrating on that situation, rather than thinking of my immediate bodily needs. I needed to find a way to stop him from wielding further control over me, and I couldn't do that from the bathroom.

Usually, I'd have wandered around my room with a small towel over my hair and a large one covering up my body. Today, I was not sure that was permitted by the instructions to go naked. Did covering my hair go against this? The large towel would, so I dried off thoroughly and then turned the heating in the room up a little to compensate for the lack of clothing. I'd need to suggest that for the communal area as well.

Going to my laptop, I found that a few people had contacted me to say that they had enjoyed my accidentally sending them my topless photo, and letting me know that they'd deleted the email. Others on the send list hadn't said anything, but I hoped that they'd just deleted it. Maybe it had gone straight to spam, and they'd not even been aware of it?

There was no way that I could ask though. If they hadn't seen it and I then prompted them to find it, that would be awful. Fortunately, none of my close family had been included, and the friends that had been just laughed at me for sending such a thing to them by accident. And they wondered who it was actually intended for... I was obviously in a close relationship with someone to send such a risqué image -- and to say that it was the first in a sequence.

Thankfully no one was creepy enough to ask for the next shot in the sequence so that they could see how this developed. It looked like I'd gotten away with this relatively lightly, but it would be very different if some of the downright pornographic photos -- or any of the videos -- were sent out. Especially if he deliberately sent them to close friends and family.

I looked for the app that I'd downloaded and found it in the list of programmes installed. There was an uninstall option, and I sat with the cursor hovering over that for some time. And then I stopped dithering. I wasn't going to remove it. There was simply no way to live with the consequences of not doing what he wanted.

I realised that I'd been back in my bedroom for a while now but was still naked. Neither my flatmates nor Stephen Hawking could know that I was still naked, so there was no reason for me to be. I put on my pj's and sat on my bed thinking. Did sleepwear count as me breaking the rules in his head? Was I supposed to sleep nude as well?

If I was to continue in this, then I would have to be naked in here all the time -- or close enough anyway. If someone knocked at the door, I wouldn't have time to strip off a full set of clothing before they wondered what I was doing. And if the jeans, or whatever, left marks around my waist then it would be clear that I had been wearing something, and questions would then be asked.

Bugger him to hell! I could get away with my dressing gown, as I could slip that off easily, but everything else was now off-limits until I was getting ready to leave the flat. I liked being nude. I often wanted to be nude. Sometimes I needed to be nude. What I didn't want was for someone else to make that decision for me, and force me to be nude to meet their schedule and plans!

For the next couple of hours I was able to think about other things. Some of my coursework was going over previous studies -- to make sure that we were up to speed -- and it was there that I concentrated for a time. I was sitting at my desk, doing some of that reading and making notes, when I was alerted by the voice of my machine that there was a new message coming through.

'You appear to be wearing clothing. For this you will be punished with a further task today. Remove it, and then I want you to describe what happened earlier this evening and your reactions to it. Be honest, or be punished further.'

Bugger! I wanted to protest that I'd put this on to go to sleep, but I had no idea how long he'd been there watching me. And wasn't that creepy! With the tape over the camera light there was no way for me to know when he was there or not. He'd wanted that done so that I could take the laptop into the living room without suspicion, but it was just as effective on me in here and, with my head in a muddle I'd not properly considered that.

Taking off my pj's and throwing them onto my bed was, in an odd way, more embarrassing than just being nude with him earlier. Why did the act of removing clothing seem so much more sexual than just being nude in the first place? There was something odd going on in my head there that I'd have to try and analyse one day.

As I took them off, I pondered the instruction to be honest or face further punishment. The question I was wrestling with was how the hell would he know? The laptop, and so the camera, had been in here for that whole period of time, so there was no way for him to corroborate whatever I now said.

Unless...? Unless he was in contact with one of the others -- and wasn't that a scary thought! All of their email addresses were on the phone, and we'd become 'friends' on social media as well. He could have got in touch with any of them (or all of them), and there was no way for me to find out.

This was probably a bluff on his part, although he'd not actually said that he'd done anything of the sort, so I could be worrying over nothing. If he had though, coming up with a plausible reason for doing so, then he would know what I'd done. If I lied now, then I'd be in deep shit. Deeper shit anyway.

Damn him! He had me second-guessing everything now! I couldn't see a way out of this that was better than telling him the absolute truth in all matters where either he, or one of my flatmates, could possibly have seen me. Which left me my shower pod, or an empty living area, as the only private spaces I had while at home.

I described what happened to him and did so pretty honestly, as he had requested, just in case there was a way he'd find out. I told him about being admired and then having the guys touching me -- and especially about Connor. I even told him what Connor had said to me, just in case the two of them were now in contact. It was horrible and embarrassing, but there was no choice.

After talking about how the guys had all touched me, I told him about Dionne doing the same, and then Leanne requesting it as well at the end of the TV programme. I did not say that this turned me on a little, as I didn't think anyone could have known for sure. Yes, I'd flushed, but that would be natural in the circumstances. There was being honest, and there was giving too much away.

'Your tasks for the night were complete, but this final one for the day is as a punishment for wearing your pyjama's. This may be unpleasant for you, but so should any punishment. Disobey me again, and the consequences will get increasingly worse for you. Learn from your mistakes.'

The bastard. The absolute bastard! After I'd gone through the scariest, most hideous experience of my life, having to flaunt my naked body to people I'd only been getting to gradually know for a week, and to say to them that I'd happily keep doing so... and now he had more for me to do! And not only that, but something bad as well.

Balls! I'd really, really, hoped that I was done for the night. In fact, part of me was hoping that I was done entirely -- while knowing that was incredibly unlikely. I was a fish caught on a hook, and the angler was playing with me. He was enjoying the experience, but I doubted that the fish ever did so.

However, if he was saying this was bad compared to my day so far then this was going to be really bad! He was going to send me outside somewhere undressed like this wasn't he! It couldn't be far if he was going to watch on the laptop camera as the Wi-Fi range was probably not good -- into the building stairwell?

"Please sir," I said, "this is all too much! My head feels as if it is going to explode as it is. I honestly don't think I can take any more! This whole evening has been awful for me, and I don't think you understand the toll that it is taking on me. Sir." Could he tell that I was close to weeping? I was, and wanted him to see it.

'Do you know the game Snog, Marry, Avoid, or sometimes called Fuck, Marry, Kill?' I'd nodded as he was speaking, so he carried straight on. 'For the three men in your flat, you will choose Mouth, Cunt, Arse. I will then send you out to visit one of them to play the game through.'

"Please Sir," I said desperately. Trying to plead with him -- while knowing it would have no effect. "You know that I'm a virgin, but that goes as far as blowjobs and my bum as well. I've never had a guy enter me anywhere." (Hell, this was mortifying to say out loud, even to a stranger hiding behind my computer screen).

"I've taken the tip of my last boyfriend's cock between my lips a couple of times, my mouth lips that is, but we never did anything more than getting each other off with our hands. I've never even been naked with anyone before today. Please, don't make me do this sir!"

'Your videos show me items that you've put inside both your cunt and your arse. I assume you've done the same with your mouth as well. Choose which man gets which part of you, or I will do it for you. And then send you on to two of them this evening as a punishment for making me work harder in getting this done.'

Well, crap and double crap. He was right that I had simulated sex with a variety of objects, and could get what I thought of as a bit nasty with it. Things did go into all of my bits, and I sometimes got off with the idea of three different men all doing what they wanted with me at the same time. This was not real though.

I didn't want that to happen in real life and would have run a mile to get away from anyone that seriously suggested it. A game you played by yourself in private did not necessarily mean that you ever wanted it to come true in real life. One day, I'd have sex with a man, and who knew what would happen after that. Three at the same time though? Nope, not going to happen outside some freaky, occasional, fantasy.

One thing was for bloody sure, I'd be doing my best to avoid further punishments from him! He clearly wanted obedience, and if he said jump, then I was to do it and not ask stupid questions. Naked meant naked. I asked about the quilt on my bed at night -- as that might count as covering myself up even if asleep -- but was told that would be fine when sleeping. A mighty big concession there!

The clock from earlier in the day being put back onto my screen brought me back to this moment in time. A decision needed to be made in the next 60 seconds, but it was a mad one. I'd not considered any form of sexual activity with the guys living with me. I'd expected at least one to hit on me (and had bet myself that it would be Connor, who had, from the start, seemed a bit full of himself), but I'd intended to turn them all down when it happened.

While having a boyfriend sharing the same flat might be great if it was all going well, if you had a row -- or broke up -- then you'd have nowhere to go to and get away from them. The place wouldn't feel like home for either of you and would be pretty awkward for the others living there as well. No, I'd decided to try and avoid that from the start.

And now, I was going to choose which ones would get deep access to the entrances of my body, and in a no strings attached sort of a way. We'd not be dating. No flowers, no chocolates, no fancy meals, no cinema visits. I'd just be offering myself up to one of them to stick his cock inside me. At least I got to say which one went where, but it was still sick.

As I was thinking of Connor, then let's go with him first. There was no way he was taking my virginity. No bloody way was that happening! While only semi-religious myself, I'd been brought up to think of your first time as being something special for your husband. That was a bit old fashioned and stupid in the day and age we lived in, but it was still there in my head as something not to be given up lightly.

He was not going to go there before I no longer thought of it as a special thing to offer my man, and more of a regular part of sex with whatever man I was with. I never intended to get overly casual about offering to have sex, and so giving access to my pussy, and for the very first time... well, that chance was certainly not going to be his!

Offering him my bum, my first time at any anal activity, had much of the same connotations to me (although access to that part of your anatomy never got mentioned at church youth groups), but, as he was going to be first in one part of me, was this better or worse than my mouth? Worse I thought.

Giving him something that was usually only offered to longer-term boyfriends (as I understood it) would only cement the thought of my being a slut in his head, and I didn't want him acting on that. Not that offering a blowjob wouldn't add to my sluttishness, but that was almost entry-level sex in a relationship, while anal certainly was not.

"Connor gets the blowjob," I said.

Of the other two, there wasn't much in it for me. Scott was on the same course as I was (biochemistry), and so I'd had more in the way of conversations with him than any of the others. Someone at the university had had the bright idea of putting pairs of students on the same courses in rooms with pairs on others. To stimulate conversations or some such, I believe. We'd have to see if that worked as they expected.

Connor and Dionne were both taking politics -- and as the two with the big egos that seemed to suit them as career choices. Leanne and David were both taking computing. One looking more at coding, the other at the computer games industry. I had no real idea as to what either of them was talking about, so those future stimulating conversations there were not looking too bright.

"Scott gets to... gets my pussy. And so David can have my bum."

The timer still had a dozen seconds left on it, but once I'd figured out Connor's place then the rest was easy. Well, not easy, considering what I was offering up, but the truth was it didn't really make much of a difference to me which way round the other two went. Given that I didn't want either thing to happen, with either guy, then what did it matter?

And then it stopped being a theoretical thing. Some sort of multiple-choice questionnaire. This was me actually choosing which man in my flat was actually going to use my body, and how. Bloody hell! I'd had them touch me earlier, but this was way, way, more than touching. Penetration was a whole nother level and meant something entirely different as well.

You might have a snog with someone in a club, and that could end up with having your boobs played with as well if you permitted it. Although outside the clothing where I was concerned, thank you very much. But to have a cock in any of your three openings was, unless you were a slut as Connor called it, not to be contemplated outside of a serious relationship. Very serious for me.

Here I was though, blithely saying to the guy in my computer, and anyone that he cared to show the footage to, that I was ready to take any of the guys into me, and that this was my personal preference. I was shaking all of a sudden and crying as well. Not the sobbing kind, but tears were rolling down my cheeks. I assumed that he could see them, but he wasn't saying anything.

"Please, sir, let me go to Scott, and offer him my pussy. If you want, I can tell him it is my virginity as well, but I'd rather not say so." I had to be beetroot red while saying this, and I was perfectly aware that he'd be recording my speaking. This would be one hell of an extra thing to add to the blackmail pile. My parents would certainly never understand -- especially if he edited it at all.