Student Life Pt. 04

Student Life -- part 4

How the hell are you supposed to successfully beg to suck someone's cock when you have no idea of the words the person wants to hear, as you hardly know them. And at the same time, you can barely put two thoughts together in a string as you desperately, so desperately, need sexual release yourself? What did get through to me from what he said was that I couldn't cum until he did.

In a way, this was nonsense. In any normal relationship, I'd have told him to go to hell, walked out, and then frigged myself silly back in my room. I didn't need his damn permission to do that. Except this wasn't normal at all. My blackmailer had told me to use whatever methods were necessary for me to get to perform a blowjob on this man, and I couldn't leave until I did.

That put me firmly into his hands, and the power in this relationship (such as it was) was all with him. If he denied me permission to blow him then my life was as good as over. If this was an assignment, then I'd have spent time thinking it through, working out all the permutations. I could barely think of my name now though, let alone the consequences of what I was going to say.

I had no idea how long it had been since I'd entered the room, since he had started touching my body, but it had to be in the region of two hours plus. Didn't it? It was impossible to tell objective rather than subjective time, but for the whole of it he'd kept me on the edge of an orgasm. I hated that I was crying out for it, that my critical thinking had gone to mush.

In all my adventures, I'd never tried this. The point of getting close to an orgasm was to then go on and have one, I'd thought. I'd got myself off as quickly as possible -- often because I couldn't afford to hang around in a risky situation. But even when just in the shower, I wanted to cum, and so I did. This denial thing was absolutely new to me, and it was killing me inside.

He'd, gently enough, put me to my knees in front of him, nicely lined up with the mirror so that he got the side view of me -- all ready for my taking him in my mouth I thought -- as well as the regular top-down one. I could still see the laptop on the desk, so I knew that the computer voiced git on the other end would be able to see everything.

"Please, sir, Connor," and why did I keep calling him sir! "I want your powerful cum inside me. Today I want to taste it, taste you, as you pour yourself into my mouth. Use me, please, use my mouth as a fuck hole for your pleasure. Please, sir, grant me this gift. Cum in my mouth, on my face, my boo... my tits. Defile your flatmate as much as will give you pleasure, so you will always know that you have marked her as your own. Please, please let me do this."

Even knowing that I had to give this man I barely knew a blowjob, assuming he accepted my request, that would still be less demeaning than knowing what I'd just said, and being aware that it would almost certainly come back to haunt me. At least one of the men watching was bound to make maximum use of this.

I'd just asked for my mouth to be a fuck hole, for him to cum over my tits (a word I'd never used before to describe my body parts), and asked him to defile me so that he would mark me as his own. I wasn't even sure what that last bit meant, but it wasn't a good thing! To defile me? Any guy I went with should be treasuring me, not defiling my body!

All in all, it was a horrible thing to know this was now recorded against future needs. I could imagine it being sent out to everyone that I knew. How many would publicly disown me but privately get in touch to ask if I wanted to act the same way with them. How many of my friends, relatives, and miscellaneous others, would want to defile me as I'd just asked this man to do.

Let's face it, I was a good looking blonde with a cracking body, even if a bit skinny for some. I was aware that lots of guys I knew would like to spend time with me, to get physical. That was part of being a woman in the modern world -- being looked at, compared to others, objectified. If these guys saw me acting in this manner, then I'd never have peace again. I'd never have a normal relationship again.

Whatever I did put me more and more into my blackmailer's hands, and I knew that this was a ludicrous situation. I was digging my own hole with no ladder to get me out. I was stuck until he decided to release me, just hoping that he had an endgame that didn't end up with him burning my life as he walked away laughing. I'd do whatever it took to prevent him from sending everything out, but I knew that this might not be enough.

As I finished talking to Connor, finished selling myself out, I couldn't help dropping one of my hands down to my pussy. I was desperate for an orgasm as he had kept me on the edge of one for what had to be quite some time. He'd slowed, then renewed his approach multiple times, and I was desperate. I'd not have said what I did if that was not the case. I looked up at him to find him laughing at me.

"Well, you are quite the slut in heat aren't you. I certainly wouldn't have thought that of you before today. You came across as Miss prim and proper, a good little virgin girl, I thought, but look at your behaviour today. Do you kiss your parents with that disgusting mouth? The mouth that you want me so desperately to fuck and cum in?"

The bastard was toying with me. Wasn't he? He couldn't be about to turn me out of his room when I so desperately needed this. He leaned over and took my arms in his hands, lifting them, and placing them on top of my head so that I couldn't touch my clit any longer. I groaned as he did, a low one of frustration. I had to keep that feeling going. I had to.

"And yet here you are on your knees begging me to defile you, to mark you as my own. Well, you are in luck, my slutty little Amy. I've wanked over the thought of you twice today, so I am going to let you taste my 'powerful cum' as you so colourfully put it. After all, you got me up again, so it does seem fair to let you do what you so desperately need."

I was almost past understanding, past caring. In my brain there was a chemical imbalance being caused by the overload of my system. I simply had to cum to let myself return to normal. I started grinding my thighs together to get some sort of sensation still going in my pussy. It wasn't perfect, but it was helping keep me close to the edge.

My aunt had a dog once that would hump anything. The sofa, the table, guest's legs, nothing was safe from it -- at least until she had it neutered and it lost the urge. I now fully understood its need to get its pleasure where it could. I couldn't use my hands, but I had to do something. I moved forward slightly, until I had a leg on either side of one of Connors, and started rubbing myself up and down on him.

"What the fuck?" He said, looking down at me in amazement. "What the hell are you doing? You're humping my leg? Holy fuck Amy, you really are a nasty little slut! Bloody hell girl, you're leaving your slime on my jeans. You're a fucking snail leaving its trail -- no, a snail has a shell -- you are Amy the slug, leaving your sluggy secretions on my jeans."

He was right, I was some sort of freak slut. This wasn't anything to do with the blackmailer. I was supposed to be doing this to get him off, but here I was with my own needs taking precedence. In my head, that little voice was shrieking its loudest, but my pussy was overruling it. I had to get off, and if being a slug got me to that point, then who the hell cared!

"No more of that girl," he said pushing me off -- the pressure of which felt good to me, "Your job is now to give me the amazing blowjob you've been promising me. Then you can get your reward. I am going to use your mouth. I'm going to cum all over you, and you are then going to eat and swallow the lot. Then you get to cum, slug girl. Only then."

I'd never given a full blowjob, only taking in the very tip of my last boyfriend (a couple of times) to see what it was like, and if I wanted to go further. The answer to which was no, I didn't. There was a slight aroma of pee, it was slimy with unpleasant tasting pre-cum, and the whole thing was just a bit disgusting anyway.

That boy would have been amazed at the way I attacked Connor's cock now as he dropped his jeans and pulled his boxers to his knees. It was only the second one I'd seen in real life, so I didn't have much to compare it to apart from ones seen in porn. Even I knew that while the women in those videos were impossibly attractive, the men were improbably hung.

Not having anything much to measure it against I couldn't give it a size, but it seemed pretty big to me. I tried to take hold of it with one hand, to let me guide it better, but he wouldn't let me do that. That hand joined the other one back on my head.

"This is to be a blowjob, little slug, as that's what you wanted for me. No hands are to be involved here, just your slutty mouth around my cock. Make sure there are no teeth on me either, but I want it nice and deep. Oh yes, I want you to deep-throat me -- can you do that slut? That's what I was thinking about you earlier when I wanked. Your slutty mouth all the way up my cock."

I wasn't totally naïve and innocent, I knew the difference between a simple blowjob and deep-throating someone, but right now, I didn't care if he was upping the stakes. I had it in my mouth, and that was the goal of the last couple of hours. Get his cock into my mouth and blow him. It only counted if he came, right? It was just a cock sucking if he didn't cum?

Clearly, I'd have liked to use my hands for this as I had no experience. How far it was supposed to go in? How tightly were you meant to squeeze your lips around it? Where to position your tongue (and what to do with it) to get the greatest effect? These were all questions I'd have to ask my computer at a later date. For now, I was just riffing, going with the flow.

He was just standing there, so I had to do all the work. My head was bobbing slowly back and forth as I was getting used to the feel of this weird thing in my mouth. I'd sort of done this with a banana, but it was in no way the same. This was warm, and I could feel it growing and moving as I ran my tongue along it. Not the same thing at all!

I was hoping that he'd not notice my rubbing my thighs together, to try and keep my level of stimulation up, what with other things on his mind. He did though, and used one of his feet to kick my legs further apart. For a minute, it looked like I was to concentrate on him and ignore my feelings, but then he used his trainers to press against my pussy and stimulate me anew.

My squealing like a pig as he touched me there would have gone unnoticed by the guys in the rooms on either side, as I had Connor as far into my mouth as he would go as I did so. I knew of the gag reflex but, as I'd not really tested it myself, this was my first time of having to deal with it. Some girls liked this sort of thing? I had no idea why.

As I didn't know the distance from my lips to the dangly bit at the back of the throat that he was banging into with his tip as I went as far as I could, I couldn't tell how much in total I was supposed to take in to deep-throat him as he wanted. Four inches already inside maybe, with another two or three yet to fit in? How the hell did those porn girls do this?

It was pretty awful as, every time he hit the back, I felt like retching. I'd stuck fingers in there to make myself puke years ago -- to fool my mother and get out of going to school -- and this was much the same. Why would a guy want his girl to puke over his cock? If I kept this up I'd be doing it though, as I could already taste the acid of my stomach juices mixing with whatever he was producing.

While still keeping me on edge with his fancy footwork, and oh, that felt so bloody good to me, he clearly decided that I wasn't getting either the pace or the depth (or both), right, and he took over. With a hand on the back of my head, scrunching up my hair to give himself a good grip, he started to increase the pace.

At the same time, he reached down to grab my left boob and, after giving it a couple of good squeezes and pulling at the nipple, the rock-solid nipple, he started giving it some slaps. Again with the slaps. I didn't care anymore though, as that area of my body was way down the list of priorities. The joy in my pussy was being countered by the horror in my mouth.

I'd only been able to take him a certain amount of the way in and had assumed that I'd be able to take more as I got used to it, got better at it. I'd failed on that score. The four inches or so had been the maximum. Once I started to feel the bile rising, I'd backed off each time, and I'd not been able to get myself past that.

He managed though. His technique was pretty simple. Grab my hair tightly, and use the pressure on the back of my head to force my mouth towards him, while simultaneously ramming his cock forward. That he could get himself into a rhythm doing that, at the same time as slapping my boobs (alternately) and continuing to use his trainer to stimulate my pussy, was probably a sign of good overall skill.

I couldn't tell at first if it would have been better if his cock was just left all the way in, as it seemed that every single time that he forced it into the back of my throat, I was gagging. However, when he pushed all the way in and held me so that my nose was pressed up against his skin -- all the way through his pubes (that were tickling their way up my nose, much to my horror) -- then I knew a different sort of trouble.

I couldn't breathe with that, now seeming enormous, thing blocking my throat. I'd hoped that the airways through my nose would have been enough, but they were getting no service from my lungs -- something that should have been obvious to me. I'd held my breath underwater for a couple of minutes at a time, but after only a relatively few seconds of this, it felt like I was going to die.

I tried pushing him away from me, and that succeeded for a second, but I got a telling off from him, and he put my hands back on my head with a warning that if I did that again, he'd put me straight out the door. I'd said he could use me, could use my mouth as a fuck hole (had I really said that!), and this was him making good on my promise.

I couldn't let him stop until he'd cum, and so had to watch as he thrust his way back into my mouth. It seemed like he was deliberately tickling my tonsils this time around, and I did bring up bile into my mouth. This was something I always found disgusting and was one reason that I was cautious with my alcohol intake -- I hated ending up with my head over the toilet bringing it all back up.

With my mouth full, I was just wondering what to do -- swallow or head to the bathroom to get rid of it -- when he started back up with his former rhythm. I couldn't help it. Much of the contents of my mouth was forced out. Some via my nose, which was gross and left me smelling only that for the rest of the evening, and the rest out of my mouth.

There was nowhere for it to go apart from down. Some spattered onto him, but the majority either went down my chin, to drip further down my boobs and belly, or landed straight there and ran down over my pubes, my pussy, and my thighs. This was gross, shameful, and deeply upsetting. My eyes were watering now, and I knew that what little make-up I was wearing must be getting streaky.

This wasn't a one-off though. Now that my body had started, it couldn't seem to stop. Each time he thrust hard there was a similar result. At best, there was a line of slimy drool connecting my mouth, my chin, with his cock as he pulled out. At worst, there was another eruption of my stomach contents.

It was probably a matter of self-defence, some sort of inbuilt mechanism, that came to my assistance. Or was it simple oxygen deprivation? Whatever the reason, my brain, my higher functions started shutting down, and my body was left to get on with it. Left it to try and accommodate itself to the constant invasion, removal, and reinvasion, of my throat.

I went blank, and even the stimulation of my pussy faded into the background. All that was left was the slightly otherworldly feeling of my head being jerked back and forth and the rough passage of his cock over the back of my throat. The slightly burning liquid that mixed with my own drool as it exited my body. My nose kept pressing up against his rough pubes as he went all the way in, but I no longer cared.

When he came, eventually, I was barely aware of it, apart from the sudden ceasing of the motion that I'd become accustomed to. I could hear him making some sort of noise, but he'd been making some kind of mutterings for a while now, and I'd tuned him out, tuned pretty much everything out as this went on.

I think the only reason I noticed at all was that this was a new sensation, something hitting my forehead and landing on my head, somewhere near the crown. The second spurt hit my left eyebrow and the bridge of my nose. The third, the last, he must have deliberately aimed lower. I'd said in my dirty talk earlier that I wanted his cum on my tits -- and that was what I got.

Once the deep-throat work had finished, I started to come alive again and get back to the reality of my situation. Naked, covered in my own drool and puke -- and I do mean covered -- and with a smattering of cum (which was dripping down my face in at least two places). Kneeling at the feet of a man who I knew little about.

I'd asked to be defiled. Somewhere an evil genie must have been listening in to our conversation as that seemed to be exactly my situation as he stuck his shrinking cock back into my mouth and told me to clean it. I'm not sure I could have defined the word accurately before, but now I was a living, breathing, example of it. Take a picture and put it in the dictionary. Defiled = see Amy.

I'd tasted my boyfriend's pre-cum before, but this was the first time I'd had the real stuff to compare it to. I'd also heard that each guy tasted differently -- and that what he'd been eating in the days before could also influence the flavour. None of that came through now though. Even the texture of it was lost in the disgusting mix already in my mouth.

"Well, that was fucking amazing," he said, breathing heavily. "I'm so glad that you came in tonight. So glad that I came in you tonight." He seemed to find this really funny, but I missed the joke. "But now, for the finale, to let you cum as well my dear." And with that, he looked down at his feet. "Once you've licked my trainer clean of your slug juices, you can then finish yourself off for me."

I followed his gaze down to the foot that was continuing to stimulate me and doing a bloody good job of it. My pussy had been producing lubrication for who knew how long, making sure that when, if, I got fucked all would be well. This was all over his trainer and, while this afternoon it would have been a disgusting thought to do anything remotely like this, I wanted to cum myself now.

This price was all wrapped up in whatever part of my brain that was still functioning. Afterwards, I knew I could have just said 'screw you' and got up and left at this point. I'd achieved my mission. I'd succeeded in getting a blowjob out of him, so I had no reason to do anything more. I could have left at any time. I didn't though.

Something had gone wrong inside me, and I'd melded into one of those stupid girls in the porn videos. At least I wasn't screaming out some nonsense about his now owning me -- and that I'd be his sex slave forever -- or some similar shit. What I did need was to cum though, but that was for now, rather than me trying to escape with some dignity to my room (fat chance of that anyway) and doing it there, and so not cleaning his shoe!