The Freedom Ch. 03

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His eyes snap open, the green disk bright and pulsing, rage written across his every feature.

I took five steps back as I watch him shake the shock from his brain, his wounds healing all the while. When he can focus again, I make a big show of licking his blood from my fingertips, moaning lasciviously and fingering myself with the other hand.

"You still think you can handle this, big boy?" I ridiculed, then turned to run.

He literally leapt towards me, hand outstretched. He caught the edge of my skirt and sends me tripping to the ground. I quickly kicked free of it, leaving him a souvenir and me only in my bra, panties, high socks, and Mary Janes. I felt exhilarated, enthralled. I knew we'd fuck, every part of my body was screaming for release, but this wanton destruction and physical violence...in that moment it was like the best kind of foreplay ever.

I got to my feet and a few steps away before he called out to me. Pausing and turning, I caught a heavy metal tray just below my hairline on my forehead. My vision grayed and I fell to my knees. Blood oozed down the side of my face, escaping just prior to The Freedom beginning to close the wound. I lapped at it as I felt it twist its way down my cheek to my lips. Before I could regain my composure, Mark reached me, hoisted me off my feet and pushed me hard against the wall. With an inhuman growl, he kissed me deeply, my blood passing back and forth between us as one tongue caressed the other.

He might have lost himself in our oral embrace, but I was not yet ready to concede, still enjoying the violent chase. Keeping him distracted, one of my hands blindly searched the lab station next to me for something to regain control. Fingers twisted around an erlenmeyer flask and brought it to bear directly against his chest. It shattered satisfyingly, spilling its liquid contents over his shirt. The label proclaimed it "concentrate acid," the part specifying one kind lying somewhere on the floor amongst the broken glass. With a squeak, he let go of me and tore at his shirt. I could hear the sizzle of acid as it corroded the fabric. I smiled in cruel glee.

As he struggled with it, his body simultaneously conveying the pain of a chemical burn and an equally strong sense of pleasure sent by The Freedom, I tried to slip away. Thrashing around blindly to stop me, he caught his hand in my bra strap.

"You're not going anywhere, you bitch," he proclaimed, with all the braggadocio swagger a man who's skin feels like it is on fire can manage, "I owe you some punishment."

I pulled against his grip for a moment, saw the fruitless of it, and reached between my breasts. Locating the front clasp, I released it and awkwardly slipped free of the black lace. I was now topless, in a lab, wearing knee highs, shiny black shoes, and a black thong. It was all I could do to keep the fun going, to not just lay on the floor and abuse my own body, debase myself for the pleasure of any one lucky enough to see.

Instead, I charged across the room, laughing and mocking my TA. Halfway to the door, I heard a clattering quickly draw close. Turning to see what it was, I was immediately struck by the display module cart, used for short demos in class, as it careened down the center aisle. As I lost my footing, I caught a glimpse of Mark advancing, literally licking his chops like a man about to eat for the first time in months. I loved being his object to be broken and used. I couldn't wait for him to achieve his goal.

That did not mean, however, I was going to go easily. As he straddled my prone form, I bit his wrist. His gasping and reaching for the injured area gave me just the break I needed to gather my legs beneath me and put both feet into his abdomen, sending him tumbling down the aisle. Rethinking the main door, I turned my trajectory to the door to the courtyard.

Mark was not as out of commission as I hoped though, and he stepped in front of me, broken beaker in hand, separating me from my escape route.

"Try it," he rasped, looking as sweaty and aroused, his cock rigid and a purple-red with passions simmered to a boiled. I imagined I looked much the same, my schoolgirl outfit reduced to rags around us, my body on nearly full display to his unblinking stare.

"You don't have the guts," I shot back, grinning now.

He gestured and, again, the invitation to try was clear. I called his bluff and sprinted towards him as best I could in my impractical footwear. As I drew near, I realized my error. He was not moving and his eyes glimmered with homicidal intent. The patented leathers offered no traction and I was going too fast to stop or change direction.

With a dark single chuckle, he grabbed my arm as I raced within range, twisted me against him, his unbending desire hot against my back. In what seemed like slow motion, he brought his other hand down, driving the shard of glass into my abdomen.

Everything went silent. Everything went still. I...I didn't feel the glass or see it, even, but I knew it was there, tearing me open, bleeding me out. But for a moment, there was nothing. Not even panic.

Then, my world burst in Technicolor. I screamed a string of obscenities unheard of in our lifetimes. I fell to the ground. I convulsed and shook like a fish tossed on the deck of a boat.

In other words, I came like a tsunami. Hard. Fast. Long. It was a climax that shattered each one of my senses in turn and reassembled them differently. You could have told me my state of being changed from solid to liquid and I would have believed you, I felt so transformed.

The closest I had ever come to an orgasm like this was my eighteenth birthday. My friends convinced me to take some drug cocktail and I was too ready to bust loose into the world to make a good choice. It was mostly MDMA, like they promised, but also much, much more. I don't know what else, but it was strong and mind altering. Some 26 year old pulled me into the bathroom of this club just as it really kicked in, tossed me onto the sink, removed my panties, and buried his face in my roiling pussy. I came then in moments flat and for hours afterwards I could feel tiny electrical storms of my skin each time someone touched me, however lightly. Small, but definite, climaxes of my skin cells. That was great.

This was that times...500.

All from being stabbed.

I pulled the glass from me, crimson slickness on the floor, on my knees, smeared across my abdomen, and watched, still shaking as the wound closed as if it had never been there. In that moment, even the tiny shred of "good" "proper" "real" Wendy thought The Freedom was the greatest substance known to man.

I threw away the beaker and enjoyed its satisfying crash, stood up, and slapped Mark in the face. He blinked but did not move.

"You know how to show a girl a good time, I'll give you that," I flirted, "Now finish the job."

Turning around, I bent over a lab station. I dragged my nipples back and forth, just grazing the cold stone of the tabletop, sending delicious jolts of stimulation through me as I shook my ass in front of him. He stumbled forward, and cut my thong off with another piece of broken glass, then gave me a deep gash just below the dimple on the left side of my back. I came again, not as hard, but still hard enough to make my knees buckle. I could practically hear him grin.

He pushed my legs apart and began to guild himself into my dripping slit. I reached back and grabbed him, freezing his progress.

"You fuck my ass like you promised or you get the fuck out," I coolly commanded.

"Oh, you are a nasty one," he whispered, tone almost reverent.

He banged open a nearby drawer and pulled out what I recognized to be a tube of Astroglide he had confiscated from a freshman guy who had attempted to use it in some prank for Rush Week. Mark uncapped and drizzled it over my waiting ass, the cool liquid making me moan. He rubbed it in with his fingers, then coated himself as well. Adjusting his angle, he slid into me so slowly.

I groaned and dropped my head to the desk. I never had this before, never wanted it. But in that moment, I'd have sooner died then not have his cock fucking my ass.

"So tight," he grunted.

"Been saving this for you," I replied through rapid hissing breaths.

He wrapped his hands around my waist, one on each side just above my hips and began to pull me toward him. Each stroke he went deeper, faster. I groaned and mumbled as he took me, quickly passing from gentle introduction to hard, needy pounding. I took each stroke and invited him to give me more, rougher. The stone below transitioned from cold to warm as we continued, my body heat overwhelming its natural state.

Our "foreplay" had been too much for either of us to last long and soon he was begging for release.

"Oh god, such a perfect ass," he groaned in submission, "Fuck, you are going to make me cum so hard."

"Do it!" I implored him, my fingers finding my clit, "Reward me for my naughtiness teacher! Show me your appreciation!"

"So close! Oh...oh! Where do you want this?"

"Did I say you could cum yet?" I grumbled.

To my surprise, he replied, "No mistress. Please, may I?"

My orgasm rose the moment he pathetically asked for permission so I granted it, "You want to cum inside me, don't you?"

"Oh god...yes! Please, let me!"

"Go ahead, teacher. Fill this nasty teacher pet ass! Give me my extra credit!"

Mark could not hold on another second and released deep inside me, whispering his thanks above me. My orgasm, starting to set, spiked again with the feeling of his seed rushing into me. We held that position for a moment, him straining hard, into me to the hilt, me breasts mashed against the lab table, mouth open in a long, quiet moan. We literally vibrated in place. Then, he broke, hands slipping away from my waist, body going loose like a wet noodle.

He slid free of the tight ass he so loved and dropped, hard, to the floor in a sitting position. Although I saw surprise and confusion registered on his face for a moment when I looked over my shoulder, it quickly dissipated. The refractory period was but a three second window.

For me, the final orgasm marked the end of fun and time for business. The Freedom urged me forward, commanded me to deal with Mark, get him working, and move on. It was advice I could not ignore, but that doesn't mean I didn't take a moment to tease him. I stretched in front of him, lengthening my body, showing off my abdomen, my legs, my ass. I then bent at the waist and shook my tiny tits slightly for his viewing pleasure. Despite obviously being spent, he reached for me. I slapped away his hand and shook my finger at him. He nodded and complied. It appeared I truly was his mistress now.

"Gym clothes, you have any?" I asked him.

He nodded dully and pointed back into the hall. I turned away, heading for the hall, sure to put plenty of swivel in my step. He trailed a few steps behind, picking up his clothes as he went. He wavered slightly at the sight of the still going at it sorority sisters but a quick snap of my fingers brought his attention back.

We got back to the lecture hall and he found his duffel bag. I emptied out the contents and dressed myself in drawstring sweatpants that, even pulled as tight as they could go, still hung baggy on me, and a zip-up hoodie. I tossed him the t-shirt to replace his acid destroy button down. He shrugged it off, presented his ideal chest and torso to me. I shrugged and shot him a "suit yourself" look. I was sure I'd fuck him again, but first, The Freedom had business for us to attend to.

"You know what to do?" I asked him.

Again he nodded, adding, "I can crank them out very quickly after I get the first sample right."

"Good."

"But I might need...assistance," he leered suggestively, "and test subjects."

"I suppose you could call some students down to discuss their grades," I suggested, leaving the lab, "appeal to their desire to do their best...maybe their school spirit."

He rubbed his hands together in perverted delight. I left him to manufacture some Freedom samples and, no doubt, infect any underclass girl he could get his hands on.

I left the lab and immediately altered my course for the campus convenience store. I was suddenly so parched my throat felt like it was lined by some combination of sandpaper and desert air. I grabbed several jugs and dragged them to the register where a 20-something fellow student lazily rang me through.

"Eight dollars," he said, boredom emanating from every bit of him. Without hesitation, I unzipped the sweatshirt and thrust my breasts forward. He stared, mouth agape. From one of the aisles, I heard a voice mutter, "This generation..." and trail off. The 50 something year old that said it came forward as if in a trance.

"Still can't stop staring though can you?" I teased him, "This generation has pretty great tits, doesn't it?" Both nodded dumbly.

I kissed them both then, first the older man, then the clerk. Both reached for my chest.

"Knock it off," I ordered, then bid the clerk come around the counter. When the two stood side by side, I spoke again, "Both of you drop your pants. Touch each other. Jack each other off. If you do well, I will come back and reward you both. Oh, and will doing so, repeat all the hurtful stereotypes you believe about the other."

They complied without hesitation and I left, jugs in hand, whistling to the sound flesh slapping flesh and the screaming of slurs, Two new Freedom recruits.

On the way to Professor and Staff Parking I drained a gallon of water, tossing the plastic container at my feet without concern. I selected a car that pleased me, broke the window with a rock, and hotwired it, The Freedom helpfully telling me how. I opened up the engine without concern for the "Student Crossing" signs and the speed bumps, shooting through campus at record speeds. Destination: The Mall. I needed clothes, immediately. Who knew where my old duds were and, besides, a new me deserved a new wardrobe.

Arriving at the mall, I immediately set pace for one of the boutique-y shops I had always only window shopped and strode in like I owned the place. Despite my oversized men's sweats, I was full of sexually charged confidence. Immediately, a young salesgirl approached me. Around my age, she was short, blond, and bouncy in every sense of the word.

"Hello, I'm Christa!" she announced, wide smile revealing bright white perfect teeth, "Can I help you?"

"Yes you can!" I mirrored back, thinking, "You'll do nicely. Very, very nicely."

"In fact, Christa, I think you'll find we can both help each other," I told her, wrapping my arm around her shoulder, "Now let's see about getting me a dress."

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gleelover69gleelover69almost 12 years ago
amazing

this story is utterly amazing. the most original and sexy story i've read on his site in a while. keep up the good work.

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